#how does social bookmarking work

[akgtechinfo]

What is Social Bookmarking in SEO in Hindi? Find Out in 2024

🔍 Wondering What is Social Bookmarking in SEO in Hindi? 📌 Social bookmarking involves sharing, organizing, and saving web pages on social platforms.

It helps boost SEO by generating backlinks and driving traffic to your site. By posting links to valuable content on popular sites like Reddit or Digg, you can increase your website's visibility and authority in search engines.

Stay current with the latest SEO strategies by exploring how social bookmarking can elevate your online presence! . 🌐 Click the link above to read more! . Contact us here:-👇 . 📧 Official Gmail ID: contact@akgtechinfo.com . 👉 Follow us to get more informative posts: @akgtechinfo

[janeyseymour]

hi i just wanted to say i love your writing so much and thank you for all that you do!! i’m not sure if your requests are open but i would love melissa coming home from a brunch with barb and accidentally hearing readers angelic voice for the first time. like saturn by sza on blast while cleaning or something

this one was like genuinely just inserting myself into this story... i loved writing this short little ditty.

Sing Me a Melody

“I’ll be back, babe,” Melissa tells you as she presses a kiss to your head. You’re still laying in bed, but she’s up and about getting ready to head to brunch with Barbara. The two had invited you along, but you politely declined. You’ve been drained lately, and your body is craving the sleep that it’s been missing out on lately.

“Sounds good,” you reply softly, eyes half open. “If you need me to come pick the two of you up again-” 

“This place does not have bottomless mimosas,” your girlfriend smirks. “I already checked.”

“Still,” you chuckle.

The last time the two work wives had gone out to brunch, they accidentally picked a place that offered bottomless drinks, and… you got a call around one from the place, claiming that you had to come pick the two up or they would be arrested for public intoxication.

Of course, you were their knight in shining armor, but you could hear the way that Melissa was protesting being ‘thrown out of the restaurant’.

“Honey,” you had tried to explain to her so many times. “They aren’t kicking you out. They’re closing, and they’re helping you by not throwing you out onto the street to get arrested.”

She had huffed the entire way home, and Barbara couldn’t help but laugh at how ridiculous her friend was being- it reminded her of the way her kindergarteners act when they didn’t get their way.

Once they both sobered up at your place, they were beyond hungover. They claimed they were never drinking again- until the next time. But they vowed that they would never go to a bottomless mimosa place again unless you were there to supervise (which would also lead you to get heavily intoxicated, and then all three of you were hungover as hell after breakfast).

After Melissa leaves, you sigh. You should probably be getting up for the day, but you really would rather be lounging around and doing nothing all day. So you stay in bed for a bit longer, scrolling through the different social media apps that you have on your phone. It’s nearing noon when you decide to finally get out of bed and become a functioning human of society. 

You roll out of bed and throw on Melissa’s sweatshirt that she wore to bed last night, loving that it still smells like her. You ball up the ends and hold them tight as you make your way into the living room and kitchen. You pull up Spotify and put up your playlist that has soft music. You reach for your coffee mug, loving that there is already warm coffee in the pot. You pour yourself a generous amount before fixing it to your liking. That first sip is perfect, warming your cold body- the knowledge that Melissa had prepared that pot of coffee warms your heart and your soul.

You curl up on the couch with your mug and a good book, fully planning on catching up on your book while your girlfriend is out for the day. You get about four pages in before you realize that you just can’t focus with the music playing quietly from the television. You reach for the remote and turn of the device before cozying back up with your book.

Still though, you can’t focus. You’ve read the same page four times, and you still haven’t taken in the information on the page. So, with a frustrated sigh, you put your bookmark in and close the worn book that you borrowed from the library.

You don’t really know what else to do, so you sit on your phone for a bit longer and scroll mindlessly through TikTok. But eventually, that becomes boring to you too.

You have papers that you could continue to grade, so you huff as you go back up to the bedroom and grab your school bag filled to the brim with essays to grade.

You get through about half before you’re beyond frustrated. You have no idea what you’re supposed to do while you wait for Melissa to come home- the two of you have plans to curl up on the couch and watch a movie when she gets home, so you don’t want to start watching television now. But then you remember that Melissa has a guitar that she keeps in the living room, mostly for decoration. You haven’t played guitar in years… but maybe?

You quit when after… well, it doesn’t quite matter. He’s long gone, and you thought your love of creating music was too. The point is, you haven’t picked up a guitar or thought about playing in so long.

Curious about your ability after years of not playing, you cross the room and pick up the guitar. Looking at it, the strings are somehow not rusted, the neck seems to be in the right place, and there are no cracks in the body. You strum it, and it’s terribly out of tune.

Taking it back to the couch with you, you tune it up quickly and strum again. It sounds beautiful.

Muscle memory takes over, and while your fingers are going to be shredded after digging the tips of your fingers into the strings without any calluses, you feel somewhat healed being able to play again. You go up and down the neck, fingers strumming and picking different melodies that you remember.

You clear your throat before softly beginning to hum the melody of the song to the tune that you’re playing.

Eventually, you start singing freely- playing some oldies, some of the newer songs you know, playing around with songs that you’ve heard on the radio that are simple enough to break down into basic chords that you can sing over, and even just fully starting to sing songs that you’re making up on the spot.

You used to love writing music. It used to be the thing that you were most passionate about- but he took that love with him. You really should start writing down the lyrics and music that you’re making up.

You settle for singing a few of the old songs that you had written, and you get so into the music that you don’t hear the door open.

Melissa makes her way in, full from brunch and expecting to see you on the couch with your book in your hands, when she hears a melody and a voice that she’s never heard before- it’s beautiful. It doesn’t sound like it’s coming from the television or from the speaker on your phone. She steps into the living room to see you sitting criss crossed with the decorative guitar that she keeps. You look angelic, the light hitting your face as you have your eyes closed and you’re singing from the heart.

She had no idea you could play. She had no idea you could sing. She sets her purse down silently, eyes never leaving you. The redhead sits quietly, absolutely enamored with your voice and hidden talent.

Only once you’re done singing one of the songs you had written in college does she make her presence known, applauding you. Your eyes snap open, and your face immediately flushes red. You had no idea she was there, much less heard you sing.

“Hun,” she breathes. “Holy shit.”

You bite your lip and tuck your hair behind nervously. You have no idea what she’s about to say. Is she going to yell at you for touching the decoration? “Yeah?”

“When the hell were you going to tell me about this?”

“I- uh,” you shrug. “About what?”

She gestures to the instrument in your hand. “That. I had no idea you could play.”

“I didn’t either?” you smile nervously.

“I’m callin’ bullshit on that one. I mean, I knew you had could kind of hold a tune with all of your humming to the radio, but… babe, you sound like an angel.”

Your blush only gets worse at her sweet words. “I’m not that good.”

“You are,” she insists. “What song were you singing?”

“I don’t know it’s name,” you tell her honestly.

She makes a face. “What do you mean you don’t know the song’s name? It’s clear you know the song very well.”

You scratch the back of your neck. You suppose with two secrets out- that you can sing and play guitar, you should admit this one too. “I don’t know the name of the song because… I wrote it and never gave it a name.”

Her eyes go comically wide, and her jaw drops. “You wrote that?!”

“Y-yeah?”

“Honey, that’s something I would hear on the radio!” she exclaims. “Why aren’t you a famous singer/songwriter?”

“Not in the cards for me,” you chuckle nervously. “My heart belongs with the kids.”

She shakes her head. “How long have you been playing?”

“I started when I was four… but I haven’t played or sung in years. Lost… my passion for it,” you frown a bit. “But uh, that felt nice. Sorry I touched your guitar without asking first.”

“Hun, if I had known you could play, I would’ve been begging you to play it for the last two years.”

“It’s been longer than two years since I’ve played,” you shrug. “I didn’t know I could still play like that.”

“What other secret talents do you have?” she teases.

You purse your lips as you think, plucking the strings absentmindedly to create a beautiful little lick. “I can play the uke, I write songs when I’m feeling inspired, I used to paint a lot… I can make balloon animals and juggle?” you chuckle softly. “And I used to do gymnastics… was pretty damn good at it too.”

“I think you’re more mysterious than I am,” Melissa laughs. “Damn, babe. I won the lottery with you.”

“I wouldn’t say that.” You roll your eyes.

“I did,” she tells you seriously as she picks herself up and settles on the couch near you. “Sing to me?”

“I thought we were gonna watch a movie when you got home,” you tell her quietly.

She hums. “We can watch a movie after I’ve listened to you for a while… I mean it when I say you got a voice on you. I wanna hear it.”

You spend almost the whole day singing to her- all of the songs that you know, all the songs that you’ve written, and just little melodies that you come up with in the moment. Your fingers are shredding and aching by the time you put down the instrument, but it’s worth it to see the relaxed smile on your girlfriend’s face.

After you put down the guitar, you curl into her arms and watch the movie that you were promised. She falls asleep halfway through. You find yourself looking longingly at the guitar, and by the time she’s woken up, you’ve written another song- one about her: Redheaded Angel. 

[librarycards]

what did you mean about being blackpilled about reading as a hobby because i think i have similar feelings, and i haven't quite been able to articulate them?

i think that reading - not specific books or series, but the idea of reading - has been fandomized to the extent that books are presented more as accessories and aesthetics to display and consume rather than...actual vessels for stories. this is how you get these specialty overpriced book boxes and themed candles and bookmarks and other merch that no one needs. it's also how you get a contingent of book social media people whose primary goal is not to communicate their opinions or recommendations, but to arrange their reading-related accoutrements, receive promotional packages (this style of consumption is supported and bankrolled by big 4 publishers), and advertise both their "hauls" and the meeting of arbitrary reading benchmarks (reading 50, 100, 200, etc. books a year).

taken together, this turns the hobby of reading from something based on reading the works one enjoys and talking about them, to a competition based on metrics of material and imagined intellectual consumption. it's no longer an enjoyable hobby, but a task or job to "get through" and "get done", and one on which a reader can "come up short" if not efficient or wealthy enough. it's one people can face judgement for if they consume the "wrong" (less popular/buzzy) books, books that do not contain the requisite keyword "tropes," or in the wrong form/medium. there is such an infatuation with the idea of being a reader & stylizing one's identity around this nebulous status that the actual practice becomes unimportant.

i think that this is tied directly to the lack of critical thinking skills so many self-styled readers come to texts with. the idea of "being a reader" is separate from being someone who reads, and the former does not require someone to stretch their thinking skills at all. instead, it rewards excess buying, skimming, and competing with rather than collaborating and discussing stories.

[olderthannetfic]

I know the response to this will be "WRITE FOR YOURSELF!!!1!" but when I look at things I worked really hard to write that have zero comments and the things I threw out there on a whim that actually appear to have made people happy, I feel so much less motivated to write the former. I know I'm supposed to be "doing it for myself" but I don't know what that means. It feels like those 90's movies saying "be yourself" or my therapist saying "be authentic". It's a nice enough sounding thing, but what does it mean? Does it mean writing in obscurity is more pure or more artsy? Is it supposed to be more moral and demonstrate integrity?

There's an agreement in fandom that writing for others is bad. It's impure. It's selfish. But no one has really ever explained why. Nor am I getting much out of writing a story that means a lot to me and getting dead silence in response. I like entertaining others and making them smile.

I can practically feel the, "uh, back in my day fic was hosted on a server and we didn't see hit counts let alone get comments and we were happy with it because we weren't whiny and in need of validation like Gen Z!!!1!" people gearing up to yell in the replies that they're good writers who don't care about comments. That's great for them, and I mean that sincerely. But equally sincerely, how are you supposed to maintain passion for something no one else is interested in? I've been told it's better to get validation via hit counts or bookmarks but numbers don't really do anything for me. Someone saying, "I loved this! Can't wait to see what happens next." can make not just my day but my week.

I know what people say. Fandom isn't a popularity context. It's not social media. You're not supposed to like talking to people about fandom things. But... I do. And the utter silence that is modern fandom - of the 100 last published fics in my fandom, only 10 have comments, and only 4 have regular commenters - is just really not fun to me.

--

Yes, lots of people do think it ~demonstrates integrity~. People who never finish anything.

People who actually succeed at making art will say superficially similar things, but what they mean is "If you write things you aren't actually interested in, you will either burn out or the art won't actually be satisfying to the audience or both".

--

The thing about back in the day is that we only got comments. You're dead wrong about that part. Yes, people whined that there wasn't enough feedback, and they will continue to whine about this until the end of time, but your description misses the most important part about the rose-colored glasses and what people are trying to explain about the past in most of those posts:

We couldn't see the lurkers (hit counts) but we did see some actual interactions. This allowed us to imagine that the comment rate was way higher than it actually was and to see fandom as a close-knit community (which was maybe somewhat more accurate than now but never as true as people believed).

--

You have fundamentally misunderstood what the (saner) posts about this are saying.

You shouldn't care about overall numbers. You should care about meaningful social interactions. Obviously, people like connecting with others via art.

Fandom is not a popularity contest. That's why you should enjoy talking to actual peers about things. Genuine connection is not about being a celebrity with fans: it's about making friends.

--

Some fandoms do have interactions. Maybe if you start interacting with others' works, that will help. Maybe you need a different fandom. "Modern fandom" isn't this total wasteland with no interaction, nor do most people find a total lack of it fun.

[valeriianz]

For the fic writer asks:

4. Obviously you did research for BitB. I'd love you to ramble about it if you like I'm sure you've got STORIES

5. Did you outline it?

7. How'd you decide it would be Hob's pov?

25-27 I'd love to know a/some favorite lines, details, and any lore you might want to share

omg TJ what wonderful questions! thank you!! this is going to get LONG!

4: Rambling about research!

do you wanna see a screen shot of my bookmarks under my "band au" folder?

man, and that's only what could fit on the screen.

there is... SO MUCH i chose to ignore for this fic. ideas that i had to drop, lines or extra details about the other band members equipment. more logistics, what Lucienne actually does, what Mervyn has to put up with as the new touring stage manager... i realized very early on that i couldn't possibly cram all this (super cool and eye opening) information into the fic and still keep reader's interest and, most importantly, to not stray away from the fact that this is a dreamling fic. whenever i felt myself getting carried away with a side character or job or even social media numbers, gossip, outside POVs, i had to reign myself in and get back on track. there will be time for exploring everything i missed in side stories after BitB is finished. i just hope i still have the energy to write it all.

once, i was so deep into research that after publishing chapter 2, i went into work and when my chef asked what "GA" meant on my prep list, i answered with full confidence, "general admission."

(it means "get ahead.")

the worst part of this entire writing process is im still learning new shit. i havent rewatched or read a lot of what i've saved because, to be very honest, i was feeling a little burnt out. it's why we're kinda full steam dreamling now. it's why ive been glossing over a lot of technical stuff and being vague about conversations amongst the crew/not including it at all. i don't prefer ignoring my research, but at the end of the day i want to still enjoy writing this fic and finish it. even if i can't be as descriptive and detailed and nuanced as i used to be.

5: Did you outline the fic?

(also asked by @hardly-an-escape!)

i wouldn't call what i have a proper "outline," it's more like a 20k word document filled to the brim with notes that i skim at least a dozen times while i'm writing a new chapter (being in my brain is literally hell). i live multichapter life very dangerously. i copy and paste lines or sections (always scattered, never together! augh!) that are meant to go together and plop them in a new document titled "band au ch.#" and then i structure the chapter around what i want to happen.

but to answer this question in the plainest of terms: yeah. i know exactly what's going to happen up until the very end. even if its all in my head and the only concrete shit that's written down are beats/plot points. i'll figure out the rest later!

7: How'd you decide it would be Hob's POV?

i actually never even considered writing it from Dream's POV. this was my first fic in the fandom (which is so nuts to think about lol) and writing in Dream's POV sounded so scary lol. i also just thought Hob's would be easier because i have worked a few backstage shows, back in my college years. i figured eh, i can make this work. and i loved exploring how weird and mysterious musicians can be, from a normie's POV. making Hob a fan first and having him worry about developing a parasocial relationship... it was fun to explore.

25: Share your favorite line

oh god, i have so many haha.

“What are you thinking about?” starting in ch.2 and onward lmao

“It’s–” Dream laughs quietly, bitterly. “I don’t like change.” He says each word with emphasis, eyes trailing down to fixate somewhere past Hob. “And I still hold onto the things I can control, like my instruments–” his eyes swing up to regard Hob apologetically. “Or my clothes or my–” he brings a hand up and wiggles his fingers around his head. “My hair.” ch.4

"His majesty is pleased." ch.5

“You are obsessive,” he states, slow and cool and with a quiet smile cracking through his composure. “Just like me.” ch.7

“You look good.” Hob has to lean in to say so, unwilling to raise his voice amongst the roar of the fans. ch.11

“Del looks like porcelain, but she’s actually made of steel.” Desire swirls the contents of their glass before pushing their shoulders back with a deep breath. “She's tougher than all of us.” ch.11

“Everything. I want…” his fingers tighten in Hob’s hair, pulling him closer, speaking against his lips. “…Everything.” ch.14

26: Share your favorite detail

how intentionally coy Dream behaves. i love keeping him a mystery and deciding when and how much to allow his intentions to peek through has been so fun lol.

Despair is in fact covered in tattoos and piercings! i say this because i feel like sometimes i forget lmao. (but also her and Hob don't interact much so. my bad haha).

Delirium's constant explosion of color in the way she dresses <3

Hob's dedication to his job, Dream, and the people he cares about the most. i don't care if people think i'm making him too soft and good, im gonna project on that man and make him a sweet, sweet simp lmao

and ah, this doesn't matter anymore, and i kinda regret doing it but. i originally had Dream's favorite bass all black but the pickguard was white. so it actually looked like Jessamy. not gonna lie when @designtheendless drew it all black i decided i liked it better that way. and truly i do. that's when i went back to ch.1 and changed it haha. to actually see the guitar with Dream, all done up sparkling black and purple flecks... gosh it's just so him. but then i got up to the reveal that the guitar's name was Jessamy and i was like, "oh, right." lmao. no one seems to care so i'll leave it be.

27: Share a piece of lore you made up for the story

i have a lot lmao. and this post is already so long... im hoping i can get to some if not all of it in side fics in the future. but for now, here's some that's more like headcanons but:

Dream hates flying. he can full on go into panic attacks on the plane if he allows himself to get into his own head.

this was mentioned briefly in ch.4, while Dream was discussing the formation of the band, but Despair was in another band before joining Endless. she is the only character in the fic who gets to keep her English roots (lol sorry) and is the oldest in the band (30).

all of the band members ages: Dream, Desire, and Death are all 28 and Delirium is 22.

Dream can experience subdrop after going too hard during a performance.

Dream paints his own nails, it's very therapeutic.

as an exercise, i explored my own headcanons for Dream in this verse in a word doc, and one thing i will share from it that you might find interesting: If I were to ever give Dream a theological values, I would describe him as a satanist. He is a physical and pragmatic person, nonconforming, and although he is introverted, he enjoys being a part of a community (he loves his band).

also found this in my notes: How Desire and Dream got along was Death making them fight it out. Hob raises an eyebrow “like in a brawl?” He couldn't imagine Desire throwing hands. “No, in a pillow fight that escalated in hair pulling and verbal taunts.”

fic writer asks

[lacefuneral]

ok i've seen some posts about the tumblr alternative cohost but none that were actually helpful so!

(disclaimer: i am very new to this website. users who have been there longer can and should chime in with additions and/or corrections)

Cohost Introduction Post

What is cohost?

Cohost is a fledgling website that is essentially a tumblr clone, but with its own culture and site-specific features. It is also very much a work in progress. You are encouraged to talk in the cohost forum to suggest changes for devs, report bugs, and upvote other people's suggestions. This website WILL grow and change over time. And as such, I do not know if/when the information I share here will be outdated. Edit: To answer an ask I received, anyone can join cohost without an invite. It used to be invite-only. It is not this way anymore.

Is "adult content" allowed there?

Yes. Cohost is not on the app store, meaning that it is not subject to Apple's specifications. You can post illustrations, writing, and photographs (cohost does not support any video formats at this time, just gifs). Cohost has an elaborate filtering and trigger warning system (moreso than tumblr), and you can disable adult content for your entire account or for individual tags. I actually don't engage with the adult content at all on there. Visual CSEM (both real and fictional) is specifically forbidden (although frankly I think the guidelines could be stricter wrt written content. Still, does seem to handle this better than AO3 does, going as far to say that written content about real minors is forbidden.)

How are minors protected?

The minimum age to join cohost is 16, and requires proof of parental permission to join. Users who are under 18 are automatically age-gated and cannot view adult content.

If cohost isn't on the app store, how is it used?

You can, of course, use cohost on a computer, but it is designed with mobile in mind. Opening the website on any IOS browser, clicking "share", and then "add to home screen" will install an app for you to use. The same can be done on an android. There is a guide here.

How does cohost work?

First, you create an account. Then you wait for approximately two days (read: weekdays) for the account to be activated. This is done to prevent spam bots. In the meantime, edit your profile. List some interests, your pronouns, your other social media links. Give yourself an icon. Note: icon and banner file sizes are small. You may need to shrink and compress images.

After the two days are up, make your first post! Write a basic introduction (with what you feel comfortable you feel sharing) and list some interests you like, maybe some hobbies, media, etc. And then tag this post with "#welcome to cohost". This will let existing members know that someone new has joined, and they may initiate conversation and/or follow you.

Next, go to the search and type in "The Cohost Global Feed" and click on the tag. Bookmark this tag. This is essentially one giant community space where you can find random users. (There is currently some discourse on the website as to whether this tag existing is a "bad thing" or not because "cohost isn't supposed to have a global tag". Just ignore that lol). Next, go back to search and type in things you like. TV shows, maybe. Video games. Music. Anything. See if people have posted in the tags. Follow them. Comment on their stuff. Click "like" to bookmark the post if you want to.

Most crucially, make sure that you bookmark the actual tag so you can look in that tag again later without having to manually type it each and every time. Also, you get a feed called "bookmarked tags" which allows you to scroll through all of them at once, which replaces the "for you" feature other websites have.

You can "share" a post (called "rebug" in user slang) which serves the same purpose as a reblog on tumblr. In a rebug, you can add your own tags or comment in the body of the post. Cohost users do not talk in tags as much as tumblr users - they tend to prefer to speak in the body of a rebug, or in the comment section (replies). At this time, you cannot view all reblogs. But you can view all comments in the comment section. Any post that is rebugged will preserve the tags of the OP, with any additional tags added being attributed to you. Rebugs are named after the website mascot Eggbug, a purple bee-like insect.

Posts are called "chosts" - and shitposting is called "shitchosting." Two examples of global shitposting tags are "#css crimes" - which is when a person does goofy things with the HTML/CSS editor to make colorful text, fake chat windows, and such - and "#shitchosting" which is a general shitposting tag. I've also seen people use tags like "#random".

If a post makes you laugh, check out the OP's profile. See if they post frequently, and if you have any common interests. If you realize you want to block or mute someone instead, you can.

You can send asks just like on tumblr, but your inbox must be manually opened first. So remember to do that.

How do I look at my own blog?

This is one of my gripes about the UI. You would think, intuitively, you would click here (at the top of the screen). But you would be wrong!

It is ACTUALLY under the sidebar menu, called "Profile." And I'm not the only one to to complain about this. (To get back to your dashboard, by the way, you click on the cohost logo.)

Are there sideblogs?

Yes! Each sidepage (sideblog) has its OWN set of likes AND followed pages (blogs). This allows you to easily switch between multiple sets of dashboards. A lot of users use this to have a SFW dashboard and an adult content dashboard. But it works like tumblr, too. You can have a side page/dashboard for whatever you'd like. Maybe one of your pages is for programming. Maybe another is for photography. You switch between your pages by clicking the arrow next to your icon/username at the top of the screen. ("Ohhhhh.... THAT'S what that's for.")

What's the userbase on there like?

Mostly programmers. Trans people. Furry artists. Plural systems. Furry trans plural programmers. Certainly a lot of shitposters. The website is trans-run and, as such, has zero tolerance for TERFs. Everyone seems pretty friendly from what I can tell. And there's very much a culture of "follow someone randomly based on their vibes" that doesn't happen as much on tumblr. Tumblr is more like "I really like this TV show, I'm going to follow 40 blogs about just this interest." Because the cohost community is so much smaller, there is a lot less content overall, especially fandom content. You can't follow 40 fandom pages because your fandom tag has a total of 3 posts, all made by one person approximately a year ago (well. for me anyway).

Cohost, then, actually has much more in common with real-life socialization. You seek out people with interests that may be very different from your own, and to find a common interest is very exciting! Unlike tumblr, you are encouraged to tag as much as possible. This allows your posts to be seen, to find common interests. And, of course, don't forget to look in "#Welcome To Cohost" too! You may find some new friends there.

What file formats can I post in?

Currently, I am aware of basic image formats working (like jpeg, png) animated gifs, and mp3s. You currently cannot upload videos to cohost. I believe the reason is not related to server costs, but rather as a way to curb the uploading of copyrighted content.

How does cohost make money?

There are no ads, and yet, as far as I am aware, cohost is operating comfortably. There is, however, an entirely optional "cohost plus" that is $5 USD a month. Currently, there are a few perks, but not enough to convince me.

What if I think something about cohost should change?

Cohost has a forum where users can submit ideas for features and other users can discuss/upvote those ideas.

Here is a list of posts made for newcomers to read:

[cameronspecial]

Before The Last Petal Falls (Part 2)

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: N/A

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 2.5K

Summary: It's always a funny thing to be invited to your ex-boyfriend's engagement party. It's an even funnier thing when it seems all his family members have something to say to you.

Masterlist

“How about Lace Place?” Lacey asks, flashing her hands in an ark to imitate the arch of the sign she is imagining. Y/N gives her a funny look at the words, “Babe, that sounds like you sell drugs. If you name your restaurant that, you’ll be attracting the wrong type of clientele. Although, if a stoner accidentally walks in, maybe you’ll get some business from the munchies.” Lacey cringes at the realization and nods. “Hey, you think I could sell some cookies at your bookstore? Maybe, it can help drum up some business,” Lacey suggests. 

“I don’t see why it would be an issue. Let me just read up on the regulations on it just in case we need a special license or something, but it’s such a cute idea. I can get one of those rollie carts and call it the Cookie Cart. Ooh, maybe I can give a free bookmark with each purchase of a cookie.”

“That’s a great idea. Then I could offer the same thing when someone buys a certain thing at the restaurant. Like, get a ten percent coupon for the bookstore. How do you feel about being a dinner special?” 

“Ahh, I love this idea. We are just two business girlies supporting each other. Soon, well, be girl bosses dominating the world.”

“Uhh, excuse me. Last time I checked, you were already a girl boss, who dominates the world. I mean In The Shadows has been in The New York Times Best Sellers for fifty-two weeks, now. You went on an international book tour for your debut book and you are writing the much-anticipated sequel as we speak. You made it, girl.”

“Okay, okay. Don’t discount your achievements though. You literally worked at a Michelin-star restaurant and graduated top of your class at Le Cordon Bleu in Paris. Now, you are opening your own restaurant at twenty-three.” 

The girls laugh at the little spiel they went on about being proud of their achievement and return to the paperwork they were going through for each of their respective businesses. In the five years since graduating high school, Y/N graduated from Oxford at twenty-one, but not before signing a deal with a major publisher for her book. A year later, her book is on the best sellers list and she is whisked away all over the world to promote it. She does recognize that her success may in part have to do with her mother and considered writing under a pseudonym, but decides against it when she realizes it wouldn’t really do anything. Using a fake name would mean she wouldn’t be able to make an in-person appearance out of concern for being recognized. It’s not exactly like her face has been hidden from her mother’s social media page. She really wants to have those moments to connect physically with her fans.

 On the other hand, Lacey had gone to culinary school at Le Cordon Bleu, and then quickly got a job at the Michelin-star restaurant. She decided to quit her job there so that she could open up her own restaurant. 

——

Y/N has no clue where she is going. Mason had just told her to get dressed nicely and to get in the car. She couldn’t get a question out, so she followed his instructions and got changed. She put on tan-coloured pants and a light pink balloon-sleeved satin blouse. She wore a black belt with a gold buckle and golden jewellery to pull the outfit together. Y/N sulked as she walked to Mason’s car. Her pestering as to where they were going went unanswered. When she sees where he stops the car, she wants to literally jump out of the car and run home. “Why did you bring me here, Mace?”

“It’s their engagement party today. I wasn’t planning on bringing you, but Blythe called and she literally begged me to bring you today. She knows how much you meant to Rafe and wants to get to know you more. She hopes, maybe even, that you guys can make up.” 

Y/N gives Mason a questioning look, “She wants her fiancé to get along again with his ex-girlfriend?” Mason nods and gently moves to bring his sister inside. “Blythe is a sweet girl and she really loves Rafe. She feels secu-.” Realizing that what he was about to say may have made his sister feel bad, he quickly switches to a different path. “Blythe is really friendly. She makes it her mission to help mend broken relationships. Rafe told me that she got two girls who were best friends when they were younger to make up after they got into a two-year fight over a boy. Can you just go in? You don’t have to talk to anyone and I literally brought you a book.” Y/N isn’t too excited about going to her ex-boyfriend’s engagement party, but she does as her brother asks. 

The twins enter Tannyhill together and are immediately given each a hug from the excited bride-to-be. “Ahh, and in comes the best man. You are only a tiny bit late, Mace. Y/N, I’m so glad you decided to come. I just know you and Rafe will make up in a jiffy.” Y/N gives an awkward smile, “Yeah, I totally chose to be here voluntarily.” Mason discretely elbows his sister in the stomach with a smile on his face. Play nice, the action signified. Blythe doesn’t seem to sense the sarcasm in Y/N’s words and turns towards Mason. “We are going to take the wedding party pictures now. Come on,” Blythe orders, taking Mason’s hand and dragging him away. “Rafe, say hello to Y/N.”

Y/N hadn’t noticed that Rafe had been standing at the main entrance too. Blythe has a way of holding everyone’s attention in a room. He had been standing there quietly observing the greetings. He quickly murmurs a hello then goes off after Blythe before Y/N can return it. She isn’t sure what to do and seeing as the only people she knows at the party are groomsmen, she goes upstairs to read on the balcony. She knows she probably shouldn’t be up there, but the balcony was guest free and she really didn’t want to explain who she was to anyone else. 

The broken silence from the front yard causes her to look up from the book. She silently watches as it appears the party is being moved outside. Rafe’s arm is wrapped around Blythe’s waist as she makes a speech thanking everyone for being there. Once she is done talking, Rafe follows her around whilst she talks from guest to guest. Rafe and the older lady listen to something Blythe says and they both laugh their heads off. This is why Y/N had to break up with Rafe. She could never be the social butterfly that matched his need to be around people. She could never fake pleasant conversations with people she doesn’t know. She would never want any of the traditional things associated with a wedding. And Rafe deserves all of that. Watching Blythe be all of those things for him cements the idea into Y/N’s mind that she did the right thing for him. He was able to move on and thrive with someone much more like him. With someone who didn’t hold him back. 

“Why does it not surprise me that you are up here?” A voice breaks the silence. Y/N turns to see a much older Wheezie at the door of the balcony. “OMG, Wheez. Look how big you’ve gotten. You are such a dignified young woman. Are you driving yet?” Wheezie moves herself to go sit beside Y/N, “Thank you, but I only seem to have gotten bigger because you haven’t seen me in five years. And I am driving. Rafe and Sarah are too scared to be in a car with me though. Blythe lets me drive her but I think only because she wants brownie points with me.”

“It’s still nice of her though. Do you like her?”

“Yeah, but you would let me drive you because you believe in my driving. Not because you want me to like you. You bribed me with cookies for that. She does it because she wants me to like her. She’s nice, though. But you know, she doesn’t make Rafe’s eyes twinkle as much as you do.”

“Louisa, you can’t keep comparing me to her. She’s the one marrying your brother.”

“And you are the one who still has a tighter hold on his heart even if he won’t admit it. You know I’m still angry at you for breaking up with him in the first place. But I missed you too much to be mad at you right now.”

“You gotta stop saying that. And I know you are mad. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have iced you guys out like that. I’m back now though and you can tell me all about your high school experience.”

“Yeah, yeah. We can talk about that later. Right now, I want you to sign my book.”

“You read my book?”

“Of course I did. You tell the best stories. You know Damian is an interesting character.” 

“He is, isn’t he? Don’t you just love a good demon love interest?”

“Yeah, that’s totally why I find him interesting…” 

Y/N doesn’t comment on Wheezie’s crypticness and follows the girl to her bedroom where the book sits. She signs the book and is dragged back downstairs to the party by the younger girl. Wheezie promises to come back and darts off to who knows where. Y/N is left alone in the kitchen she once used to make dessert cookies for her first date with Rafe. She resorts back to reading her book on the kitchen island. The sound of someone entering the kitchen causes her to look up from her book. Rafe is at the entryway staring at her with a scowl. “Where did you run off to, Y/L/N?”  

“I was upstairs on the balcony, reading.”

“You know, typically guests aren’t allowed upstairs during a party.”

“Wheezie didn’t seem to have a problem with it.”

“Yeah, well, she worships the ground you walk on so she isn’t exactly a non-biased host.” 

They stare each other down for a few seconds in silence before Y/N decides to break it. 

“You told me you wanted to get married at twenty-five.”

“And you told me that you wanted to be with me forever. I guess we are both pretty good at changing our life plan without telling the other.” 

“Haha, such a good retort. You really thought that would hurt me, Rafe?” Her words are only half true. The reminder of the choice she made stings a lot if she were to be honest, but she wasn’t about to admit that. Rafe just shakes his head and pushes past her to get to the fridge. He gets a drink out of it, “Whatever, I don’t have time to deal with this.” On his way out of the kitchen, he accidentally brushes her arm with his elbow and the scent of sea breeze and pool overwhelms her. The fact that he still smells the same after all these years causes her breath to hitch and tears to start to swell in her eyes. Rafe wants to pretend like he doesn’t see it. He wants to pretend like he doesn’t care, so he does. Now, she is left alone in the kitchen, wondering where the hell Wheezie went. 

Y/N goes in search of the younger girl, but it seems to be like playing a game of Where’s Waldo with the amount of other people in the house. Somehow, Y/N always seems to find herself in the same room as Rafe and it doesn’t go unnoticed by her that every time he spots her, he moves to another room. He’s avoiding her and she obviously understands why he would. Eventually, she gives up on finding Wheezie, but she soon regrets staying in the now-empty backyard. Because Ward Cameron is quick to make his presence known to the girl. “I didn’t think I’d be seeing you here.” Y/N looks at Ward with critical eyes, it’s not every day she sees the human embodiment of her insecurities in person. Her hands go to hold her locket and plays with it between her fingers. 

“I’m not here out of my free will. The bride wanted me here and what the bride wants, she gets.”

“Ahh, yes. Blythe,” Ward begins, they both look at Rafe and Blythe through the window. “Isn’t she a much better fit for him? She went to UNC with him. She moved to the OBX for him. Look at everything she sacrificed for him.” Y/N watches as Blythe and Rafe interact with the guests of the party. She can’t listen to Ward’s insistent belittling of her, so she does what Rafe would argue she does best and runs away from Tannyhill. She runs as fast as she can back home without a care for her tired limbs. Once safely in the sanctuary of her room, she slams her back against her door and starts crying. She doesn’t know why she is; she’s over Rafe. She let him go, but something about Ward poking holes at all of her insecurities brought back some complicated feelings she always seems to want to repress. 

——

Rafe had seen Ward talking to Y/N through the glass and he watched confused as she ran off after something his father said. He had no idea what Ward said but he was sure as hell going to find out. The engagement party has finally come to an end. Rose and Blythe went out to do some wedding shopping, while Sarah and Wheezie went to go do sister things, leaving Rafe the perfect opportunity to interrogate Ward. “What did you say to my ex-girlfriend?” Ward turns toward his son in his desk chair, “Nothing she hasn’t already heard before. What does it matter? As far as I know, you didn’t want anything to do with her.” Rafe shakes his head at his dad’s callousness. “Really, Dad? Even after we’ve been broken up for five years, you still find a way to torment her,” Rafe argues. 

Ward gives a questioning tilt of his head towards his father, “She broke up with you. How could you still care for you?” “She may have made the decision to break up with me and I will always be angry at her for that. But I’m not oblivious enough to think you were a harmless observer in Y/N and mine’s relationship,” Rafe begins. “I know you probably said some things to her that set our break up into motion. I want to make something clear, Dad. Even if we are broken up, I don’t want you to get your claws into Y/N’s head ever again. She doesn’t deserve it no matter how much she hurt me.” Rafe finishes his threat and gets up from the chair he sits upon. He storms out of Ward’s office without another word. 

Taglist: @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @gillybear17 @f4ll-for-you @winterrrnight @maggiecc

[starfieldcanvas]

SUSPICION POLITICS vs SOLIDARITY POLITICS.

i was going through my old twitter bookmarks in anticipation of deleting all my activity from my old politics account and i found this absolute banger of a thread from may peterson (which WAS originally public, it's just private now because every sane person is privatizing all their old twitter shit.)

if you've been frustrated (on either side!) by the talk about reaching out to men to counter their radicalization, you should 100% read this thread so you can start to see the parallels with other problems in social justice movements.

transcript below the cut

a series of tweets from May Peterson, username maidensblade on twitter. (for context, may peterson is a trans woman.)

seeing discussion of what defines TERF rhetoric, which is a good place to practice distinguishing between what an ideology PROFESSES vs what it DOES Misandry is often seen as the core of TERFism, but this lacks explanatory power and can lead us to miss a deeper issue 🧵

Misandry isn't useful to explain why and how TERFism works, although suspicion toward men is an important ingredient (more on that later)

TERFism does a great job of showcasing something about how philosophies of the oppressed can become something harmful

TERFs *profess* suspicion for maleness, and this is advanced as their main charge against trans women. And this is for a reason, all ideologies have more than one simple cause.

But what TERFism *does* is to sharpen the divide between the sexes created by white male supremacy, by favoring gender policing, pushing for a dualistic concept of gender, and approving of fundamental parts of white male supremacy ("women are weak, men are strong")

It's normal for an ideology to have effects that disagree with what people with that ideology profess to care about. TERFs profess to want to topple patriarchy (male supremacy) but their ideology in practice feeds into reinforcing male supremacist functions like gender policing

TERFism by and large is not a threat to men, but it is a threat to trans people and especially trans women. This is partly because of what the TERF ideology declares to be the solution to the problem it identifies (which is: men oppress women)

It's likely to only add confusion to try and diagnose what the ideological root of TERFism is, because not all TERFs have the same conscious thoughts, and because thinking is not as deep or as motivating as feeling. So let's look at the emotional shape of TERFism

TERFism is a good example of a SUSPICION POLITIC. This arises from an oppressed group (in this case, cis women) coming from their emotional reality as the subject of violence and exploitation that seems relentless and hopeless to fight.

What a SUSPICION POLITIC does is offer an answer to that state of fear, rage, and helplessness, which is to encourage its followers to be suspicious toward people who are, or might be, members of the group that collectively represents their oppression.

IOW, TERFism as a suspicion politic is saying "men rape and abuse and oppress you, but there's no end in sight to this problem, so you should armor up as much as possible against men. Don't give them any chance to hurt you. Be distrustful of everything to do with men."

The original state is FEAR, which calls for action to find safety. Since a strategy to stop gender violence has not successfully emerged yet, the next response is LACK OF TRUST. The entire worldview about gender is thus poised on a trust-mistrust axis.

The action that arises from suspicion politics tends to include some kind of separatism, a call to close ranks within an in-group, and deep hostility to the out-group.

Yes, for TERFism, this does mean making women and -in-group and men the out-group.

This is an expression of the suspiciousness embedded within radical feminism in general; feminists have seen the lack of impact of liberal feminism and moved toward a more radical posture, but one that was also less hopeful and more inclined toward suspicion.

Women don't have a meaningful way of dismantling male supremacy, so as the trust-mistrust axis becomes the center of the politic, those practicing it have to funnel energy toward anything that feels like it creates armor, even if it doesn't do anything to solve the problem.

So radfems became split along this line: police the in-group as much as possible by transferring this suspicion toward trans women—whom cis women do exercise power over—as a way of *feeling like* they're sealing up cracks against the invasion of male violence.

The other side of the split is feminists who saw solidarity with trans women as a way to unite against male supremacy and give refuge to an even more battered victim of gender violence.

But to TERFs, the ones scapegoating trans women as a way to feel safer, the solidarity extended by the other radfems was a sign that the transfeminine "infiltration" was successful and exactly the thing to be feared that they felt it was.

We can absolutely narrate the development of the TERF movement as coming from an understandable fear of men among women that hardened into a politicized mistrust, which got transferred over to trans women.

However.

This narrative only makes sense if transmisogyny was already there was a path of least resistance.

We have what happens a lot with suspicion politics, which is moral discharge. You can't fight the real problem so you discharge against someone you can fight.

Feminist and queer circles tend to have very poor transmisogyny literacy partly because it's a complicated oppression that clusters together a bunch of different tools male supremacy has to maintain its gender system.

Those tools are like release valves, things people use to relieve stress on gender relations, and these become more and more critical to use when you're trying to use a gender distinction to create safety.

I fully believe that ideologically, consciously, many TERFs do feel that the real agenda is to rebuke men and that transmisogyny is just an acceptable byproduct of that.

But if we buy this without question, we miss that the outcome harms trans women much more than it harms men.

Moreover, we miss a much larger lesson that EVERYONE could be learning right now: this is a common outcome of suspicion politics.

Genders are not naturally very distinct, so to be suspicious of a gender means you need to be able to suss out who is part of that gender.

The only way for this to work is to double down on tools used to regulating gender grouping, which always always turns into transmisogyny eventually no matter what the motivation is.

But the bigger piece of this is that suspicion politics are in contrast to solidarity politics, like I mentioned above with cis women offering refuge to trans women and trying to build solidarity with us.

Here's the thing: solidarity politics is the only method that has any chance of being effective. It is 100% impossible for oppressed groups to simply hole up in a paranoid shell and endure against oppression forever, which is ultimately a form of defeatism.

TERFism is particularly instructive about this because cis women are *the largest group of oppressed people* in the world. And even they can't simply pull away from society and hide behind armor. It isn't going to work.

But the problem with solidarity politics is that it is scary and it feels absurdly counter-intuitive.

It says "you know how X people have hurt you a lot and will hurt you again? Okay, turns out you need to make friends with some of those people"

On an emotional level, this feels like self-destruction. It's asking you to give up the one piece of armor you do you have that at least gives you a sliver of protection against the onslaught. Why would you do that?

That's the question we all need to be asking ourselves, because here's the punchline: suspicion politics of some kind is what most of us practice, and what most of us have come to when everything else stopped working. So it's, uh, relevant

Why should oppressed groups give chances to people outside of our in-groups, when so many of those people have earned our mistrust? Well, this isn't just paranoia talking, it's survival instinct. It's natural for oppressed people to become suspicious

The divide between suspicion politics and solidarity politics is the difference in emphasis on self-interest vs. shared interest. And it is really hard to tell someone whose self-interest has been continually violated that they should give it up.

This is also why it's useless to try and get TERFs to change their minds. Their problem isn't intellectual. Contradictions in their reasoning don't faze them. Their problem is emotional: they're legitimately afraid, so they double down on what power they have to curb that.

The real, lasting solution to that is to actually solve and abolish oppression. I want even TERF cis women to stop being oppressed too. No oppression is good. But that's a long way off.

Don't get me wrong, *trans women* don't owe TERFs solidarity. They owe solidarity to us. And this is also instructive because it's something else we have to ask to make solidarity politics viable—who does the solidarity need to be coming from, and with who?

With TERFism, the answer is pretty simple. With political ideologies like social justice, it's more complicated because we have vast webs of cross-community clashes and shared interests contrasting with opposed interests.

The answer to "who owes solidarity" is often "you do." And that really hurts to hear because, man, I know I'm not the only marginalized person who feels battered by neglect and aggression and wants to finally be heard about my needs and not have more responsibility put on me.

I see this a lot in dynamics on Twitter. In particular with intra-queer community suspicion toward transfeminine people, who are highly susceptible to moral discharge. But it also happens in other ways; another big example on Twitter is discharge against Black people

When a small cluster of oppressed people starts being able to create an in-group, it can be an incredible relief because finally you're able to exercise some control over the social dynamic. This is a survival response.

When one in-group has to parley with another cluster of marginalized people, who have their own in-group, what tends to happen is that each ask the other for solidarity.

And then, often, each group treats that request with suspicion.

Can you think of times you've seen this?

Do you see how rational it is? Do you see how understandable those emotions are, when pressure to relax a protective boundary feels like a threat?

The outcome I see the most is for those groups to develop an uneasy alliance, with at least some effort made on both sides to signal alliance and yet some tightness and discomfort to occur when one group has to make space for other group's needs.

The complexity of oppression systems means we all have really, really good reasons to fear being erased, and this fear is so intense that it's hard not to be suspicious when someone is asking you to think of yourself as a potential oppressor who has responsibility toward others.

Oppressed people are tired of hearing that we're the ones with responsibility. We would rather focus on how others are responsible toward us, because our needs have gone unmet for so long and when we try to center those needs, we often end up nickeled-and-dimed into compromise.

The core of TERFism in terms of *power* is transmisogyny.

But the core of TERFism in terms of *emotion and psychology* is suspicion.

There's something universal about this suspicion dynamic and it's something social justice communities need to reflect on.

We're never going to feel our needs fully being met while oppression continues. This is the sad, enraging truth of our situation.

But we benefit more from building around shared interest than we do from hostility toward other oppressed groups.

This is another place where I wish social justice would emphasize emotional work much more than mental work. Because oppressed people are often coming out in public flushed with stress hormones and fear and anger, and this is only aggravated by social media.

It makes no sense, emotionally, to tell people to be less suspicious, unless we are doing something to naturally relieve that fear and create an environment that feels safer.

Social justice communities tend to lean hard in punishment, which is also a product of a suspicion-infused environment. But this means the fear is only increasing, turning into a subculture of paranoia because trust isn't being built.

As a result, marginalized people who spend time in social justice tend to easily become burned out, to lose what trust they do have, to be socially harmed or disposed of, and to grow more suspicious and less hopeful that solidarity is possible.

Every environment has a problem with transmisogyny, yes, but that's not the only thing we can learn from TERfism. I think the appeal to see misandry as the bigger problem is an attempt to identify the problem of suspicion politics.

This is why we have to look at what an ideology professes vs. what it does. Social justice is supposed to be about making social environments less oppressive, but the outcome is often that marginalized people are only hurt more.

A big thing everyone can to do be less like TERFs is to consciously choose solidarity with trans women, in a way that's charitable, leaves room for imperfection, that gives second chances, and looks for shared interest.

This is also the model for solidarity with anyone, and it's not something you can take on as a program, a self-improvement project. Solidarity has to grow out of relationships of trust.

This isn't to say "suspicion bad." That is, ironically, the mentality of suspicion politics itself, which is motivated to root out impurities and treat reality as black-or-white.

[bigcats-birds-and-books]

Books of 2024: July Wrap-Up.

This month, I picked my knitting back up with a vengeance, started a Three Sentences Writing Challenge, AND participated in several work-adjacent Social Events (who am I, even), On Top Of accidentally nerfing myself with several brick-like books, so! This little stack isn't half bad. Photos and/or reviews linked below:

ORDINARY MONSTERS - ★★ This was a miss for me, y'all, AND it was a brick, so it took a hot minute to read. I wanted it to be better than it was, but it rambled and wandered Too Much (which, coming from me, you KNOW is bad). Salty also-rambly 1.5k review linked.

IF FOUND, RETURN TO HELL - ★★★½ Way cuter than I was expecting!! I had a good time with the second person. Hugely relatable (which. wild. all things considered.).

THE HAUNTING OF HILL HOUSE - ★★★½ Funnier than anticipated, and very readable for something out of the '50s! I see why it's a cornerstone of the (sub)genre. Glad I have a copy on hand now.

THE ACTOR AND THE TARGET - ★★★★★ This Rewired My Brain. It took me three (3) weeks to get through. It was so good. If you're a writer, definitely check this out, 10/10 recommend.

WHEN AMONG CROWS - ★★★½ I checked this out from the library because hardback novellas are Expensive if you're not sure you vibe with the author's style, but I had a good time! Witcher fans should descend on this, I think.

ALWAYS COMING HOME - 76*/618 pages read; will report back later. I asked the People about this one, and the People have Spoken (read: this won my What Do I Read Next Poll), but I may or may not have miscalcuated how many brain cells I have available lately between work and writing, so I may or may not be cutting this with library books. I'll finish it. Eventually. (*asterisk because she keeps referencing Other Pages In Line, and every time she does I jump ahead to read those pages instead and then come back to where I was. I'm dual wielding bookmarks through this tome, it's an Experience™ so far!)

Under the Cut: A Note About ~*★Stars★*~

Historically, I have been Very Bad™ about assigning things Star Ratings, because it's so Vibes Heavy for me and therefore Contingent Upon my Whims. I am refining this as I figure out my wrap up posts (epiphany of this month: I don't like that stars are Odd, because that makes three the midpoint and things are rarely so truly mid for me)(I have hacked my way around this with a ½). Here is, generally, how I conceptualize stars:

★ - This was Bad. I would actively recommend that you do NOT read this one, no redeeming qualities whatsoever, not worth the slog. Save Yourself, It's Too Late For Me. Book goes in the garbage (donate bin).

★★ - This was Not Good. I would not recommend it, but it wasn't a total waste or wash--something in here held my interest/kept my attention/sparked some joy. I will not be rereading this ever. Save Yourself (Or Join Me In Suffering, That Seems Like A Cool Bonding Activity).

★★★ - This was Good/Fine/Okay/Meh. I don't care about this enough to recommend it one way or another. Perfectly serviceable book, held my interest, I probably enjoyed myself (or at least didn't actively loathe the reading). I don't have especially strong feelings. You probably don't need to save yourself from this one--if it sounds like your jam, give it a shot! Just didn't resonate with me particularly powerfully. I probably won't reread this unless I'm after something in particular.

★★★½ - I liked this! I'll probably recommend it if I know it matches someone's vibes or specific requests, but I didn't commit to a star rating on Goodreads. More likely to reread, but not guaranteed.

★★★★ - I really enjoyed this!! I would recommend it (sometimes with caveats about content warnings or such--I tend to like weird fucked up funny shit, and I don't have many hard readerly NO's). Not a perfect book for me by any means, but Very Good. This is something I would reread! Join me!!

★★★★★ - I LOVED THE SHIT OUT OF THIS, IT REWIRED MY BRAIN, WILL RECOMMEND TO ANYONE AND EVERYONE AT THE SLIGHTEST PROVOCATION (content warning caveats still apply--see 4-star disclaimer). Excellent book, I'll reread it regularly, I'll buy copies for all my friends, I'll try to convince all of Booklr to read it, PLEASE join me!!

[mfragilevanilla]

My Armin Arlert bf headcanons ♡ sfw!!

➴ Armin is the type of bf whose love language is acts of service. He adores small details the most, small acts that show all his love. He’ll put his hand on your head when you kneel down to pick something and your head is about to bump on a table, or he’ll prepare a warm bath for you before you come home when he knows you’ve had a hard day, because he genuinely loves you and wants you to be happy.

➴ He also appreciates it the most when you do it for him. He will notice each one of the little things you do for him, like worrying about applying sunscreen on him when you’re at the beach even if he wasn’t thinking about doing it, or simply giving him little gifts based on his likes. He almost cried when you gifted him a handmade drawn bookmark with little seashells and book quotes he liked.

➴ Words of affirmation makes him weak in his heart because he adores feeling loved by you. He’s really insecure with his self, and when you tell him small things you like about him through the day he’ll feel his heart warm and how he slowly falls in love more with you each day. Just tell him how pretty his eyes look while he stares at the sea or how much you appreciate the things he does for you and you’ll have him melting in your hands.

➴ There’s something about physical touch that makes him excited. He doesn’t like overtouch or invading your personal space, but he surely loves giving you hugs from behind, or resting his hands on your waist while y’all kiss just to make sure you don’t go away. He’s clingier inside home than outside, because he feels really shy with being touchy or loving when you’re around people. He’ll sometimes give you small kisses on your cheeks when he feels extra lovey-dovey though, his hand always glued with yours.

➴ He’s the biggest people pleaser, and more with you. He hates denying you stuff, even if it’s the smallest thing because he hates to disappoint you. When you ask him to do something he doesn’t like, he’ll simply smile nervously and nod, doing whatever you told him to uncomfortably. You’ll notice this each time and simply stop him, knowing he’d jump off a bridge if that would make you satisfied.

➴ People think he’d like a dominant, stronger partner, but I personally think he’d just like someone sweet and someone that can understand the little things he likes. He’d like someone that shares his opinions and someone sensitive that would love him like he could love.

➴ This man would respect you the most. He’s head over heels for you and loves you more than anything, so you wouldn’t hear a single word of hatred or disrespect for you coming from his mouth ever. As I mentioned, he appreciates all your little details, and would worship the hard work you make everyday so much.

➴ He will also be your biggest supporter in all your hobbies and interests. You like to draw? He’d hang your drawings on his room’s walls and keep every single one of them. You like to dance? He’d go and watch every one of your performances and trust me when I say he’ll be the one to clap louder. You like to do whatever you like to do? He’ll worship and enjoy anything.

First time posting this kind of stuff ♡

Hope y’all liked it!! And also feel free to request whatever you want, I’ll try to do my best <3

@mfragilevanilla 🐰

Do not repost on other social media pls!

[dragonagefanevents]

What is a Zine?

"Zine" (zeen) is short for magazine, and they have a rich history both inside and outside of fandom. In fandom, they are most often magazines put together by groups of fan creators over the course of many months, and published publicly for free or for purchase.

Fandom zines create some of the most beautiful art and fic - and merchandise! - you can find about the series. By virtue of how they are run, copies of the zine and the extra merch that may go with it are rare and hard to find once the event is over, making them treasures.

If you want to learn more about fandom zines and how you can find them, or participate, read on below.

What kind of events are there?

Whether zines are small or large is simply limited by imagination. Technically, a zine could be little more than a hand-written pamphlet of collages from art and words that is photocopied and distributed en masse. Most often, fandom zines are digital PDFs of curated art and writing arranged by someone with semi-professional publishing/layout experience.

Zines can be digital (PDF only), digital with digital merchandise/extras (such as bookmarks or desktop backgrounds), or physical (printed softcover books, with or without physical merchandise such as bookmarks, enamel pins, stickers, keychains, etc).

Zines can be art-only, writing-only, or a combination of the two.

Zines can be collaborative, where each artist is paired with a writing contributor and they create related works. Or, zines can simply be curated collections, where artists and writers make works that are connected only by the overarching theme of the zine.

Zines can have broad or narrow themes, ranging from a single character, a single ship, a whole class of characters, a whole region, or an abstract concept. See the bottom of this post for examples.

Zines can be profitable, where artists and writers and mods get paid a cut of the money collected in zine sales. Zines are often for charity, where creators and mods are unpaid and all profit (barring printing costs, etc.) go to a chosen charity. Zines can be free and for no reason at all.

Zines may or may not have an (unofficial) connection to the creators of the IP the zine is a fandom for - this can range from a forward written by one of the IP writers, or a print copy signed by a voice actor, etc.

Zines are often NOT annual, but rather one-time events. New zines are organized all the time under different names.

Where are events hosted?

Zines are often advertised on twitter and tumblr.

Interest checks are often run through Google Forms.

Zine creation is often coordinated via Discord servers specifically created for the event.

Zines are often sold via BigCartel, gumroad, itch.io, or another of the (many, many) e-sale sites for this purpose.

What does participation in the event look like?

▸Interest Check

A zine profile (tumblr or twitter or both) will put out a google form for anyone to fill out. These will often inquire about:

the theme of the zine, sometimes with many options/focuses

the content (would you like to see art, prose, poetry)

the extras (what kind of merch/extra content would you be interested in, besides the magazine)

the format (digital vs physical)

the cost (how much would you be willing to pay for each format/bundle)

are you interested in being a contributor/buyer

▸ Moderator Applications

Can happen simultaneously with the interest check. Usually a zine is started by an individual or small group of individuals with gumption (or experience), but they often are looking for additional:

Social Media Mod(s)

Art (Organization) Mods

Writing (Organization) Mods

Graphics Mods

Printing/Shipping Mods

Merch Mods

Editor Mods

Treasurer Mods

The form and requirements of each moderator application vary greatly depending on the person organizing the event.

▸ Contributor Applications

In addition to contact information, contributors will be asked to provide examples of their previous works as a portfolio.

Sometimes creators will be asked to provide "prompts" or "pitches" - their ideas for what their contribution may be, very specifically.

Artists

⤷ Portfolios may be looking for google drive galleries, dedicated art blogs, dedicated social media account/thread/hashtag, etc.

⤷ In addition to a portfolio, may be asked to share a few specific, additional works, that highlight their strengths/interests and what they specifically will bring to the zine.

⤷ May be asked whether applying for cover art, page art, or merch art.

⤷ Merch artists may be asked to show actual physical merch you've made before, to show you know how to get things printed.

⤷ May be asked what kind of merch you would like to make.

Writers

⤷ Longform (2500 word is usually standard) or shortform (write short fics, usually multiple up to 1000 words each)

⤷ Mods may look at your overall writing portfolio

⤷ In addition to a portfolio, may be asked to share a few writing samples with min and max word counts - excerpts that showcase writing strengths.

▸ Creation Period

Contributors will be given a date to get a final pitch approved by the mods. After they can be approved, the contributors can get started.

How many check-ins/WIPs mods require from contributors will vary from one, to many. These are collected through google forms or emailed directly to the moderators.

Typically required that contributors proof and edit their own works to the highest degree possible and deliver the level of product they promised. Betas/editors/screening may or may not be provided by volunteers.

Artists will typically be provided with a template that shows the gutter/bleeds. It will typically be specified to work in CMYK, a specific file type, and file/page size.

Contributors work on their pieces.

Merch artists tend to work most closely with the mods, compared to other contributors, throughout the production process. Merch artists usually have an expedited schedule with earlier deadlines.

Cover artists may also have an expedited schedule with earlier deadlines.

▸ Production Period

Contributors will likely be able to share snippets/previews of their work - either a cropped image, or a paragraph+ excerpt of written work - as a way of drumming up further interest for the zine's sales. Snippets may be posted to the official event socials, or contributors may post them to their own socials and get re-shared by the official event socials, depending on the organizer's preference. This may overlap with the creation period.

Works are turned in.

▸ Sales & Sharing Period

The zine is available for purchase/download/ordering.

After orders close, for physical zines, moderators will place the order for printing (and merch, if applicable).

Usually when distributing only physical zines, the orders go directly from the printer to the customer.

If physical merchandise is bundled: typically, the zines and merch are shipped to a moderator's home where they are physically bundled together, then shipped from the moderator to the customer.

There may be a period of time sales closed and shipping is concluded where any extra goods may be offered for sale again, as supplies last.

⤷ OFTEN, when physical copies are offered, contributors may be gifted physical bundles of the zines (including merch). This is not always true but often happens as thanks for contribution.

Please, be discerning.

Because the commitment is very high for zines, a lot can go wrong. In addition to the usual risk of poor communication and delays (which can happen even with the best intentions).

Moderators may or may not be reputable characters and you may run into poor communication and organization - or even theft.

Whenever money is involved, or physical shipping is offered, be very wary of giving away your personal information!!!

Zines can be organized as a way for "moderators" to get free art; if money is not handled transparently, moderators can abscond with the funds. Sometimes contributors will be told that they will be paid, but then moderators will say that you will not be paid actually.

Zines can fail for a variety of reasons and never reach the publication stage. Zines can recruit contributors with the promise of the quality of the zine production/design but fail to deliver.

While these are some of the worst-case scenarios, keep in mind that fandom zines are not professional and run by volunteers. Moderators are often the most passionate and hardest working people involved in the events, doing their absolute best based on their resources and experiences.

Examples of Zines

Solamancy Zine (Archived)

The Keeper's Codex (Archived)

TheDragonAgeZine

Lotus and Root (Archived)

[olderthannetfic]

I just got a comment saying I should have tagged for dom/sub undertones and I'm a little confused. In canon, this guy always bosses his wife around re: doing shit that's healthy for her - napping, drinking water, remembering to eat more than once a day, getting more than 3 hours of sleep - and she lovingly calls him "Boss Man" as a nickname because of it. On some occasions where she's gone more than a day without eating he'll swipe her phone and order her to eat before she gets it back, something she always seems to find endearing. There's a lot of 'I didn't mean to worry you', 'you're worth worrying about, now here's your favorite homemade walnut bread' stuff, all there in canon, just lifted from canon and transplanted into my fic.

Is this dom/sub stuff? I'm aroace so I've never been in a relationship, but I assumed "take care of yourself" "I will but I will call you a silly nickname over it" was regular relationship stuff. Or is it that the frequency of it makes it dom/sub stuff, and I'm just not grasping that because my neurodivergency is making me not read the social cues correctly? I was only recently diagnosed but this has been a problem for a long time, the whole line between normal and abnormal behavior, so I thought I'd ask you. You're much more well-read than I am and know a lot more about shipping dynamics and how they're tagged. I feel like you're an expert whose opinion carries a lot of conclusions-informed-by-knowledge and so your take could help me figure this out.

People who are doms or subs or write them, if you have a guide on this stuff, that'd be cool, too. I want to educate myself more so I know if I should tag something. After all, I can't get my story to people who want to read it if it doesn't show up in the tags they're searching for. Readers aren't mindreaders. It's on me to make sure they can get ahold of the things they're looking for. I just need to work around my own ADHD-addled brain to do it.

--

I think this is the usual pattern of demanding silly tags that would only make sense in that reader's own bookmarks.

Yes, caretaking and food control of various kinds can be a part of BDSM. No, your description of canon does not make it sound like this has obvious undertones.

Readers are going to have different interpretations. It's possible that other readers would agree with this one. I have my doubts. I suspect they're projecting. But sure, maybe other people would think there was some of that vibe.

However, if you did not intend the fic to read this way, I would not add the tag. This is not what the fic is about.

--

As for what this kind of thing can look like when it is intended as a dom/sub activity, the movie Secretary has a bunch of examples. She calls him on the phone to tell him what her family's dinner looks like that night; he gives her instructions about which things she can eat how much of. The way she acts while making that phone call makes it clear it's an exciting game to her. Another time, he tells her she's not allowed to cut herself anymore: he will provide what she needs.

Even if the characters are being playful, just nagging someone to do basic self care doesn't really come across as this. It's more charged when it's an intentional power exchange thing.

It's more like... hmm... if you and a friend agreed to LARP as characters for a day. Even if you were acting fairly normal and doing things you'd often do anyway, there would be this added extra vibe to it that someone who knew you well could probably detect.

It's not so much about the specific behaviors: it's about the extra meaning those people ascribe to them. If it doesn't seem like the canon characters think of this caretaking any specific way and you, as the fic author, don't see it that way, then I don't think it will generally read as a dom/sub thing to most readers.

[altocat]

You helped me, my friend, so now it’s my turn to help you ❤️

From a complete kudos, comments, and bookmark stance, I can’t express enough how AO3 can get into our heads in terms of wanting to perform well. Despite having no set “algorithm”, being a more library-organized system, that’s not gonna stop the rat race of social media standards from messing with us! I think it’s more than understandable to want a fic to do well; I think it’s more than understandable to want those kudos numbers to be triple digits; I think it’s more than understandable to compare which kinda things resonates with people more in order to achieve those things — bc there IS an undeniable validation and satisfaction that comes with seeing those fics perform well! It’s just how things work in 2024, imo, as good and as bad as it may be. So plz know that, at least from me, you have all the empathy in the world when it comes to this kinda stuff 💞

HOWEVER!~

We can’t let those pressures squash our own creative drives ❤️ Bc at the end of the day, we ARE writing fanfiction… we ARE writing a genre that is completely and utterly free, that has no limitations and no guidelines! We ARE writing a genre that, as much as our brain wants to convince us otherwise, is for Us. There’s really no better ecstasy out there than knowing a fic we wrote is appreciated by others!! (Again, that validation!!) But it should never be the other way around ❤️ It’s a hard endeavor in the world of social media, but we shouldn’t be the ones seeking that appreciation from others. I can tell how much you love to write angst from the sheer passion that goes into every single brutal fic you put out. And lemme tell you know — whether I’m being a broken record or not! — you are So. Fucking. GOOD at it ❤️ Beyond good. Beyond great. Straight up masterful. AMT’s wouldn’t be what it is without the heart-shredding angst that made it as powerful as it was. Sinners wouldn’t make me shriek into my pillow if you weren’t go gifted at wielding the angsty blade. Barrage wouldn’t bring me to tears the way it did; Flashes Before Your Eyes wouldn’t still linger in my mind the way it still does. And I can go on and on, but I think you get my point ❤️ You are beyond extraordinary at what you, my friendo. It still leaves me speechless to this day.

So, I guess what I’m trying to say it… if you wanna write angst, PLZ HECKIN’ DO!!! If only for the fact that there is so much love that goes into it when you do ❤️❤️❤️ And that love is palpable, and it leaves impressions, and those impressions make for one heck of a wildly blessed author. I honestly don’t think a fluffy fic written for the sake of it being fluffy will be able to have the same kinda heart that something like Unrequited did… y’know what I mean? 💖 And plz do not get me wrong — Shelter is phenomenal, and every kudos and comment and bookmark is so, so deserved and more!! But I don’t think that should be the basis/comparison point for your fics. You don’t have to be an “angst” writer; you don’t have to be a “fluff” writer; you don’t have to be anything.

Just be you, Alto ❤️ Bc you are fucking incredible. And I wouldn’t want you to be anyone else ❤️💖

*jumbo hugs!*

(P.S. - I was thinking recently that I should switch over to primarily angst writing bc I thought that’s what the people wanted 😂😂 But maybe the Yin and Yang of fanfic genres are simply meant to balance each other out lmaooo!)

DFGHJGFDSAWSEDFG Thank you Pichu!!!! Don't worry, I wasn't seriously considering cutting my angstfics. Just sort of speculating out loud and seeing if people had preferences. But with that said, this all means so much to me to hear. And I'm so grateful that my fics have meant something to you in the long run. I write for fun, mostly as a means of expressing myself or exploring ideas that are bubbling in the surface. So I'm glad it appeals to an audience, however niche.

I'm rambling lolol Thanks so much. You're such a good writer and a kind friend ❤️

[mysteryinkkat234]

The Night of Pleasure and The Past (Astarion x F!Tav/Reader)

I have lived, where have I been, how should I explain myself? The short version: work, school, low motivation, and being very very sad. But I'm back again, with a new obsession. For real, if I'm not working or at school or doing homework, I'm playing Baldur's Gate (I have four separate playthroughs Gods help me). Anyway, this series, Fangs and Nightshade, is going to be many anecdotes about my playthrough with my blue tiefling cleric, Luxia Nightshade, and her escapades with a sad vampire boy. The stories will be in order in the game so spoilers abound. I hope you enjoy it. If you have any suggestions or story ideas, my inbox is open.

Also shout you to my new friend @leighsartworks216 for peer reviewing, thank you!!

Summary: It was meant to be a night to escape from their days of fantastical shenanigans. A hag, the goblin camp worshipping a new and mysterious god, exploring the Underdark, there was a lot of stress built up in everyone. Luxia Nightshade, resident Cleric and unofficial 'mother' of the group, decided to take up Astarion's offer, to get lost in the night. But during it, she could feel something was wrong.

(This contains spoilers for Act 1 and references to Astarion's past, read with caution)

This is 18+ and deals with a lot of heavy subjects, especially about sex, if you are underage or your account does have an age, DNI

Spice Level Anaheim Pepper (500 - 2,500): This smut contains vaginal sex, outdoor sex, fingering, nicknames (bunny and pup), and basically everything that happens in Astarion's Act 1 companion scene.

Word Count: 4,300+ words

Read and Bookmark this story on AO3

~~~

It was a night of fanfare and victory after the Absolute Cult was defeated in the temple. The tieflings set up a small party at their camp. Everyone seemed to be having a lovely time: singing around their campfire, finally talking casually instead of tactically, and most of the children wanting to pet Scratch.

Everyone was having a great night… except Astarion, leaning on one of the poles holding up his tent, silently chugging the bottle of cheap and gross wine. It’s not that he was grateful to save these tieflings, it was more that it was the first time in two centuries that he did something good, something nice, something to help them instead of to gain something. He didn’t get a choice whether or not he wanted to save these tieflings, that would be the party’s unofficial leader: Luxia Nightshade. 

A blue tiefling with eyes as white as the moon, horns curled like a sheep’s, and the personality of a doting mother. Gale joked that Luxia acts as a mother and the rest of the party are the ‘unique’ children she has to watch over to make sure nobody dies a grizzly and painful death. Soon, that title of ‘mother’ seemed to stick to her. She would laugh at Karlach who instead of calling her ‘soldier’ started calling her ‘mom’. Luxia’s giggling at being called ‘mother’ was almost infectious… almost nauseating.

Astarion hated her. He thought she would be easy to manipulate; he looked almost like a lost child looking for her mother. When Luxia caught him about to bite her, she wasn’t angry… well sort of. More disappointed that he didn’t tell her in the first place. Is she being serious? Was she expecting him the first time they met: ‘Hello, My name is Astarion, I am a vampire’? But, she wasn’t an innocent kid – she was an adult, an adult with an understanding for others, no matter who or where they came from.

He knew after that day that Luxia could be trusted. She wasn’t asking about someone’s personal life for blackmail purposes, she was just genuinely curious. She was an open book.

Astarion thought about this when he saw her, socializing with the party’s wizard, Gale. Gale and Luxia looked perfect together; two magical dorks, plain and simple. It wasn’t that Astarion was jealous… maybe a little bit… He shouldn’t be, I mean, Luxia was pretty open with their friendship, she would probably tell someone that she liked them… and Luxia has said she liked him, as a friend, as a companion… was he reading too much into this?

“Astarion,” her sweet voice broke him out of his questioning. He almost stumbled a bit. She seemed to have a knack for appearing out of nowhere – she was probably small enough to do it too, being the shortest in the group. “Are you… ok?” She asked politely. Astarion coughed.

“Oh! Hello dear, didn’t see you coming.” Astarion lied, trying to act casual.

Luxia didn’t believe it though. Instead, she laughed, covering her giggles with her hand.

She immediately retracts her arm, holding her hands together behind her back. “No, I get it. I assumed you were getting all drunk and merry.”

He laughed at her comment. “You know, I never pictured myself as a hero.��� Luxia tilted her head. “Never thought I’d be the one they toast for saving so many lives. And now that I’m here…” Astarion took another slug of wine from the bottle. “I hate it. This is awful.” 

Luxia shook her head, laughing again. “Come on, it wasn’t all bad,��� she whined. “We took out the cult from the inside out, we found a ladder to the Underdark, the fire we made in front of the temple. Think about all the goblins you killed with that Alchemist’s Fire!” Her white eyes gleamed when she retold the story. Astarion could see her feet scuttling while she talked, like an excited kid.

He laughed to himself. “True. That was fun. Still, I would’ve liked more for my trouble than a pat on the head and vinegar for wine.”

“It can’t be that bad.” Luxia gently took the bottle out of Astarion’s hand. She took a sip and made a face. It was sour, almost too sour for it to be edible. She silently gave him back the bottle.

He exhaled through his nose as Luxia made a face. “See?” he asked cockily.

“Yeah… I’m more into sweet alcohol, I’m not a partaker in it anyway,” she said quietly, almost embarrassed by her expression. 

“I’m just looking for a little bit more excitement, a little bit more fun.”

Luxia tilted her head again. She knew where this was going, but she’ll play along. “What do you mean? Is living in constant peril not exciting enough for you?” she quipped back. His laugh was more audible, and her face was flushed, trying not to make direct eye contact. 

“Don’t be so sour – literally,” he snorted. “I like a good time as much as anyone.” Astarion’s ruby eyes trail off to Luxia, analyzing her body. Unlike the last time, when he looked at her and wanted to feed off her, he could feel a heat that wasn’t caused by the fire. She’s so small, Astarion could easily pick her up and ravage her, pin her against a tree, and make her squeak with pleasure… an idea popped into his head. He scratched the back of his neck. “You know, we could always make our own entertainment, darling. Get a little closer, so to speak.” His voice became more sultry, trying to lure her in. And it was working. 

Luxia looked down, her face darker from blush. She bit the knuckle of her pointer. She laughed to herself, trying to be composed. “Maaaaybe,” she steps a little closer to Astarion, “if you say ‘please’.”

Astarion was taken aback, dumbfounded. “What?”

She stepped closer and looked directly at him. She leaned forward, their chests almost touching. “Say ‘please’.” 

Her voice… Gods her voice, so sickly sweet, like honey slowly dripping down a hive. Astarion didn’t know she had this confidence – he took her more as the one to get hit on instead of the other way around, or maybe it was liquid courage.

He inhales through his nose, getting closer to Luxia’s ear. “Please?” He whispered. She could feel his hot breath, he could hear her exhaling quickly. He took her breath away. A sly smile planted on his face.

She laughed again, stepping back to give them both space. “Maybe. I’ll think about it. There are some other people I want to talk to. It’s not like I don’t want to, I just…” She took a deep breath, closing her eyes. “Let me think about it, ok?” 

“Hm, fine, I guess,” he sighed, both in disappointment and how he believes, “I’ll be waiting for you. We’ll find each other.” Luxia simply nodded and turned around. However, she was stopped as Astarion kept speaking. “I never thought you could make such a devoted leader. I’m happy for you.”

She smiled, her oddly cute pointed teeth shined in the moon. “Thank you,” was all she said, as she walked away from him, almost skipping for a few steps.

Astarion simply watched, his eyes still moving down to her waist: an innocent little skip with hips swaying back and forth, her tail whipping with it. He sighs, looking up at the stars. He indeed was just looking for some sex and that’s it, but that ‘something’ was back. He closed his eyes and imagined Luxia. Instead of pinned on the tree like last time, he could imagine her in an elegant bed, covered in the silkiest of robes or blankets… no, a nice dark blue silky robe. Maybe one of the sleeves falls off her shoulder, showing off her freckles sprinkled about… no, why was he thinking this? Did he think about this with other people? No, they were only victims, for him.

He looked around, looking for her again. She was with Shadowheart, sharing a bottle of that god-awful wine. Didn’t she just say she didn’t like it? They were laughing and giggling together, Luxia covering her face for a moment, to cover her flushed cheeks. In the night, Astarion could see her moon-shaped eyes looking right at him before she quickly averted her gaze. This was going to be a long night of waiting.

~~~

He rolled his neck as he waited out in the middle of the woods, far away enough from the camp, but not too far away that it would be that long of a walk. He rubbed his chest, thinking deeply. She probably won’t come, he thought. She’s probably with Gale like I thought, using his Mage Hand to pleasure her. 

The rustling of the grass snapped him out of his trance. He turned his head and saw… Luxia? She walked slowly around, clearly looking for him. Astarion took a deep breath and made himself known to her. 

“There you are,” his voice was deeper, more sultry. “I’ve been waiting. Waiting for the moment I set my eyes on you.” He paused, he slowly brought his hand to her face, his fingers tangled in her messy blue hair. She softly smiled. “Waiting to have you.”

She laughed lightly, her hand slithered over his hand, interlocking through the gaps. “You don’t have me, yet.” Her thumb rubbed over his palm, her nails only grazing. “Were you waiting for me this whole time? What would happen if I didn’t show up?”

Astarion chuckled darkly. “Well, you’re here now, aren’t you? And, I don’t think you came here just to talk.” His hand slowly moved to her jaw as he stepped closer, the space between them closing slowly. “I think you want to be known, to be tasted.” His thumb rubbed her bottom lip. Gods her lips were so soft. He’d tasted her blood, and he hoped she tasted just as delectable as that.

Her smile went neutral, and she wrapped her hand around his wrist, taking it away from her face. Despite the feeling, Luxia could feel something underneath the showmanship. it almost felt… uncomfortably familiar. She took a deep breath before she spoke. “What exactly do you want then?”

“What do any of us want? Pleasure. Yours. Mine. Our collective ecstasy,” he clearly dodged the question with another question. Luxia started picking at the skin on her fingers. “That is what you want, isn’t it? To lose yourself in me?” He smiled, and his hand moved back, this time both of his hands rested on her jaw. 

Maybe he just wanted a distraction: They killed a hag, saved the Emerald Grove, and explored the Underdark – there was so much bottled-up stress that was in everyone. This’ll probably be the only night they get to feel something other than fear. People have different ways of releasing all this stress, and maybe this was his way of dealing with it. Luxia has met people like this and it was fine. She nodded in his hands. “Yes,” she whispered.

His smile turned more sly. “That’s what I thought.” His chuckle sent a shiver down her spine. “Now, how about I help you get comfortable.” Astarion began moving his hands around her body, starting with the blue corset compacting her, loosening it. Luxia sighed, now with her breasts freed from the confines of such an uncomfortable piece of clothing. She started undoing the buttons on her blouse, and soon, her chest was free. Astarion looked in awe.

A chill ran through the forest, making Luxia and Astarion’s nipples harden. Luxia hugged herself, covering her perky breasts in the process. Astarion laughed. “Don’t be afraid, little bunny. I have been waiting way too long to see your gorgeous body.”  

“It’s cold, Astarion,” Luxia whined as Astarion started loosening her pants, pulling them down with her underwear in the process. Luxia could still feel the chill, from head to the tip of her tail that started swaying more quickly than usual.

He laughs again as he loosens his own pants. “Darling, I will have you burning with desire from the inside out, hotter than the Hells itself.” When his pants and underwear were finally off, Luxia stared, trying not to linger for too long, but she was a bit obvious about it. He laughed. “You are just the cutest thing in all of Faerûn.” They finally did it, they kissed. And Gods her lips were just as delectable as he thought: soft with the subtle taste of mint and that sour wine. But, somehow, it tasted sweeter.

His tongue swiped her bottom lip, tasting that mint and wine, and plunging his tongue in. The moan that came out of her, sounded so heavenly, just as sweet as her laugh in the morning. He broke away, a string of saliva the only thing connecting them. Luxia looked into his eyes, red eyes staring back. She noticed that he had these moments of constantly looking around, probably so he could take something without anyone’s notice, but during camp, his eyes were always darting. Luxia felt important at the moment, but there was a feeling that… he was dissociating. 

“Astarion…” she whispered, her breath still taken away. “Are you okay?” she asked with genuine concern, her arms wrapped around his neck.

“Oh, I am more than ok.” His voice kept getting darker, his eyes trailing down to her lower half. With a sudden movement, Astarion lifted her up by her bottom, her legs suddenly locked around his waist. He laughed, carrying her and planting her back on one of the trees. His kisses continued, starting from her lovely lips to her neck, littered with freckles.

His lips grazed the puncture wounds, the same marks he made when she let him bite her. As he licked the wound, Luxia’s body shivered again. Inside of the chill was pleasure. “Fuck!” she exclaimed, her grip on his back grew tighter and more painful, her nails close to digging into him. “Fuckfuckfuckfuck!” She squealed under her breath. 

“Ah, so our innocent leader does have the mouth of a sailor,” he teased her. One hand left her bottom, his fingers masterfully massaging her folds and clit. Luxia gasped again. “I wonder what other cute noises you can make.” Astarion’s finger slips in, Luxia’s plan of desperately trying to keep her moans in has failed. Her body moved up and down Astarion’s body, her fingers moving around his back. Despite all the fights they’d been through together, his skin was quite soft, though she could feel prominent scars on his back – they didn’t feel random, they felt intentional. 

She laughs at Astarion’s little comment. Luxia gave him a slow and sensual kiss. “Really? Because I wonder what kind of cute noises you can make, too.” She leaned her full body forward, making Astarion lose his footing, stumble, and soon fall onto the ground. 

Now Luxia was on top, she thought her flirty little comment would ‘spice things up’, to try and one-up Astarion’s constant comments. But something still didn’t feel right, he was still staring, and his eyes didn’t seem to move to look at her body – not at her tail, freed from the tree, now wagging once again, not her hands on top of him, or even her blown-out white eyes, now filled with desire. Though he had a surprised expression when she ‘pushed him’ down, it immediately shifted to that damned smirk. Is he… getting any satisfaction from this?

Luxia smiled innocently, ready to suggest riding him, or maybe… she could go down on him? Get back at him? When she tries to move down to his lower half, Astarion stops her, gripping her by her shoulder. “Astarion?” she whispered, not sure what he wanted. Astarion through this whole situation didn’t communicate anything to her, he didn’t ask what she wanted, what he wanted. Body language can only go so far, especially when he looked like he was in a dazed state through the whole thing. 

Astarion’s sly smile became more toothy, and with the hand on her shoulder, he pushed her off of him. Luxia was pushed onto the ground, his arms trapped her underneath. “You think you’re shrewd, don’t you? Cheeky little pup,” he chuckled, looking at her shocked and blissed-out face. “Perhaps it’s time for the puppy to finally be punished.” 

He began rubbing himself up and down Luxia’s folds, now wet from Astarion’s previous escapade. He leaned his head down, kissing her neck softly. Even though he was a vampire, and technically undead, his body felt like it was on fire. His kisses felt like small embers hitting her neck, making her squeal and jump from it.

Astarion laughed, probably for the final time tonight. Simultaneously, he inserted himself quickly inside her and bit into her neck.  

Luxia moaned out, a mix of pain and pleasure. She wrapped her arms around his neck, Astarion’s thrusts were slow at first, probably because he was focusing on sucking Luxia’s blood. “Astarion stop~ I’m going to… pass out.” Her breath was being taken away, and she could feel her body getting weaker and weaker.

“Oh, darling~ Hold on for a little longer,” Astarion moaned out, his fangs finally out of her. His thrusts began getting harder, and the sound of slapping skin echoed into the woods as he sat up, holding her hips in place. Luxia’s hands scrambled, she had the instinct to hold onto his hands, the idea of her finger interlocking with his. When she moved her hands to his, to snake her fingers through, however, Astarion had different ideas. 

He lifted her legs, her ankles now resting on his shoulders. Astarion’s grip on her hips was steely, to the point it was starting to hurt. There was no room for her hands, so instead, she locked onto his wrists. His thrusts became faster, making Luxia more audible, her head snapped back from the pleasure. She started to beg. “Astarion, please~ I can feel it. Please, don’t stop~” she moaned out. The grip on his wrists, her nails were close to puncture his skin. “Please, hah~ Astarion!!” 

Luxia’s eyes were shut tight through the orgasm, her grip on his wrists finally let go, and what remained were small marks, thankfully there was no blood. She tried to open her eyes, the foggy outline of Astarion stretching. Luxia’s head started to hurt, her eyes slowly closed, and the cold embrace of the grass tickled her burning skin. Her breaths were heavy, trying to catch as much air as possible. Luxia let sleep take hold of her, thinking of Astarion holding her, as the world around her became muffled.

~~~

The sun’s rays shot through the branches onto Luxia’s body. Her eyes slowly opened and squinted at the new day upon her. She moaned out a yawn, stretching her legs, arms, back, and tail. Luxia rolled her neck as her vision cleared, and soon the image of Astarion appeared, bathing in the sunlight, his arms spread to take it all in. Astarion told her before that the tadpole allowed him to be in the sunlight without disintegrating. Luxia felt sorry for him – this was probably the first time Astarion got to bathe in sunlight in over 200 years.

She smiled at him, holding onto her knees. “You’re not going to stay and cuddle?” she asked, cheeky but also disappointed, hoping to hold onto someone. 

He inhaled, sighing. “You sleep light. I thought you would be exhausted after last night,” he commented. 

“Yeah, me too,” Luxia laughed it out, holding onto her bruised neck. Feeling the puncture wounds he left, a green glow emanated from her palm, healing the blood and wounds. She went back to a more serious tone, “Did you… enjoy it? You didn’t look like you were… all there.” Luxia said it with genuine concern, hoping he would understand it.

“I was holding back a little, it’s true. I didn’t want to lose control. Delicious as you were, I didn’t want to go too far.” Luxia blushed from the compliment, hiding her face in her knees. “Now, shall we go? I want to go before anyone else thanks me for saving their tails.” His tone changed, and he was quick to leave. Thankfully, Luxia was quick to stop him from leaving, wanting to talk to him more.

She now had a clearer view of the scars on his back. Just like Luxia theorized, the scars formed two circles of Infernal script. She paused, making sure she said the right words without offending him. “Wait, your scars… Where… How did you get them?” she asked in her curious and polite tone like always. It didn’t sound like she was fucked to the high Heavens last night. 

“It’s a poem, from Cazador. He considered himself quite the artist and used his slaves as a canvas. He composed and carved that one over the course of a night. He made… a lot of revisions as he went.” Astarion’s voice grew sad and cold. 

“Gods, I… I can’t imagine.” Luxia stood up as Astarion turned around to face her, stretching out her legs once more. As she walked over to Astarion, she could see the marks more clearly… it was written with a very familiar script. “Why is it written in Infernal?” she asked plainly.

This took Astarion by surprise, This took Astarion by surprise, how fast she was to jump to that conclusion, He was flabbergasted. “Infernal? I… who knows? The bastard was insane.” 

“You know, I could read it for you,” Luxia suggested, eager to help him in any way possible.

His eyebrows raised in surprise at her eagerness. “I… I suppose it couldn’t hurt.” Astarion was hesitant at first, Astarion was hesitant at first, but he allowed her to look at his scars. 

Luxia skimmed through the script, inching closer to him. She could piece together certain words that were familiar, but they looked to be random words strung together. “Oaths… fires below,” she whispered, her hand reaching out to maybe feel the words, but Astarion could feel the heat of her hand coming closer, and he stepped away from her, clearly uncomfortable.

“And? What does it say?” Astarion sounded embarrassed and insecure.

“This isn’t a poem. It might be part of a devil’s pact,” Luxia explained. “The word ‘oath’ is definitely a dead giveaway, but other than that, I can’t make out the other words.”

“Really? A tiefling not able to understand Infernal?” he scoffed.

Luxia pouted. “I’m sorry, but did you hear any of the tieflings speaking infernal in the Emerald Grove?” she snapped back.

Astarion paused for a moment, clearly embarrassed. “... A little?”

She laughed it off. “It’s fine. There were no other tieflings living in Karador besides me and my parents. I do know Elvish and Gnomish!” 

“Yes, because that’ll help us in the long run,” he spoke sarcastically, he turned around, not interested in this new information, “Still though, an infernal pact? What was that bastard up to?”

“If he did make a devil’s pact, he’s more dangerous than we thought.” 

“More dangerous than you thought, perhaps. I’ve never had any doubts. But if this is part of a contract, it must be powerful. Or valuable. Or both.” Astarion sighed. “No wonder he wants me back. What have I run off with…?” 

“Does Cazador know Infernal? Did he ever write in it before?” 

“No. I could have missed it, of course, but I doubt it. Cazador was only figuratively hellish - there were never any devils hanging about the crypt. Whatever he’s left carved in my flesh, it’s a mystery to both of us.”

“If you’re comfortable, when we get back to camp, I can get my journal and write out the signs. I can probably find a book that translates Infernal text.”

“... Thank you, that would be… nice.” Astarion relaxed, he picked up his shirt and Luxia’s clothes, handing them to her.

[lilolilyr]

random questions ♡

Tagged by @elizabeth-mitchells, thank you very much!

: ̗̀➛ what’s ur fav color: I don't really have one favorite, it depends on what it's for, plus lots of colours are just really pretty, especially combinations! but the one I always claim as 'mine' for board games and such is yellow :)

: ̗̀➛ how long have u been on tumblr for: literally half my life.

: ̗̀➛ wheres a place u always wanted to travel to: I always wanted to go to South Africa because my parents were there during their university days, and last year i got to go as well! :D

: ̗̀➛ what’s ur fav clothing brand(s): I haven't got one. I have 0 brand loyalty. Mostly shop second hand anyway

: ̗̀➛ what’s ur fav singer/band(s): been listening to a lot of classic rock lately (every year a local-ish radio station does a 'top 1000 songs' thing and there is always a lot of classic rock in there and every time I get stuck on it for a while), Deep Purple, Metallica, The Cure, Led Zeppelin, Pink Floyd, Queen, Genesis, ... Apart from that the one band I've been listening to entire albums of for a while now is Dirt Poor Robins, they're doing very theatrical rock, I love it! More long term favs of mine are Annie Lenox, Hayley Kiyoko, The Pretty Reckless, MCR, Stevie Nicks, Måneskin, Florence & The Machine, Eric Clapton, Coldplay, Taylor Swift, Sting, Sarah Connor, Amy MacDonald, oh gosh I could go on... Definitely don't have one Fav, just many many great musicians I listen to! :D oh, and the Instagram guy who does the 'green socialist vampire/free range organic humans' music reels, he's so on point and hilarious. Never do remember his name until I come across a video again though.

: ̗̀➛ what’s ur current phone lockscreen: standard fairphone 4 background design. never got around to changing it and at this point it's grown on me... I usually stick to one background the entire time I have a phone, but usually it's at least something I picked xD I've had this phone for two years now, so I think it's stuck now xD

: ̗̀➛ most recent/current hyperfixation: star wars! Specifically, fanfiction either about time travel or mandalorians. Or both. Usually featuring some combination of Obi-Wan Kenobi, Jaster Mereel, Jango Fett, Ahsoka Tano, Commander Cody, Yan Dooku... Well, and others too, but I think those are my favs lately! Before that it was more Anakin/Tatooine centric fics but I'm back on the Mando train now, also have a whole list of all the mando'a vocab mentioned in fic, at this point I probably know more words in that made up language than i do in Spanish (my 3d language in school, nothing bloody well stuck. Should've tried teaching it to me by telling me it's from Star wars hmm xD), if you're interested in Star Wars fics check out my 312 bookmarks on the topic, nearly all of them from this year! Also, NCIS because I've been watching the first seasons on DVD. Also also, twilight memes, specifically all the hilarious fake names for the demon spawn! (& prev re your answer, thank you for telling me who elizabeth mitchell is xD I do try to at least keep up with your urls!)

: ̗̀➛ what’s ur relationship status: single

: ̗̀➛ what’s ur dream job: being paid for tumblrin (more realistically tho, I do genuinely like building social media presences, doing video editing, and a lot of other parts of online marketing, plus it tends to be a job that can be done partially or completely in home office... So I hope I can find some job that a) I don't hate and b) leaves me enough time to actually live my life lmao)

: ̗̀➛ outside of tumblr, fav social app: telegram messenger where my irl friends are <3 also atm Instagram but not for the social aspect, oh no, it's November which means it's my yearly quest of entering every single giveaway in the hope of winning an advent calendar or at least some other trash. Usually works, too, lmao, I mean it's just math, if I enter a couple hundred giveaways each entered by a couple hundred people, I'll probably win sth xD yeah yeah I'm gambling but at least I'm just wasting time on my phone instead of betting money? Instagram has currently restricted me from commenting though for a whole week, apparently it's convinced I'm spam now xD I mean I could switch to my cosplay account but then I'd have to clean that up too in January, I mean I do need/want fo unfollow all those giveaway brand accounts again -_-

: ̗̀➛ do u have pets (if u do have pets, what kind/how many): no

: ̗̀➛ do u prefer tea or coffee: tea, preferably rooibos or green tea, assam in the mornings to wake up

: ̗̀➛ whats ur fav ice cream flavor: this year I discovered hazelnut ice cream and it's brilliant!

: ̗̀➛ tag at least three other tumblr accounts: @toboldlynerd @squishmittenficfan @jackwolfskid @mindless-mars @hereforamediocretimenotalongtime @lavendelhummel @asstraightasau-turn @purlturtle @viharistenno only if you want to of course :)

Blank for ease of copying: : ̗̀➛ what’s ur fav color: : ̗̀➛ how long have u been on tumblr for: : ̗̀➛ wheres a place u always wanted to travel to: : ̗̀➛ what’s ur fav clothing brand(s): : ̗̀➛ what’s ur fav singer/band(s): : ̗̀➛ what’s ur current phone lockscreen: : ̗̀➛ most recent/current hyperfixation: : ̗̀➛ what’s ur relationship status: : ̗̀➛ what’s ur dream job: : ̗̀➛ outside of tumblr, fav social app: : ̗̀➛ do u have pets (if u do have pets, what kind/how many): : ̗̀➛ do u prefer tea or coffee: : ̗̀➛ whats ur fav ice cream flavor: : ̗̀➛ tag at least three other tumblr accounts:

[wrongcaitlyn]

Do you have any fame aus or anything else that inspired you for the dear reader series?

no fame au's, unfortunately :( i am a BIG fan of fame au's, however, so i do have some recs! but the inspiration for dear reader was largely just me listening to my music and forming an au around it - one playlist turned into two, which turned into seven, which turned into 16, etc - and then i had a full au plot in my head😭

but for recs!! i bookmark pretty much every fame au i read just because i love them so much. they're definitely my niche i just cannot stop putting these people on red carpets - and it's always been this waySDKJF

you'd be paranoid too (if everyone was out to get you) by harrowhark is a catradora fame au (popstar!catra) and it was one of the first fics i ever read on ao3 and literally changed my brain chemistry. now this was like 3-4 years ago, so it's been a while since i've read it, even though when i was in my shera hyperfixation i re-read it like six times i think - if you ARE a shera fan, i would 100% recommend this one, i still remember how incredible it was! did it inspire the dear reader-verse specifically? no, they're very different in terms of plot/characters, but i feel like if i'm talking about fics that inspired me this one's essential😭

everyone wake up new jinx album just dropped by Drindrak is similar to the first one in that it is a fame au that just made me love the trope so much, even though it is much more crack than angst, unlike you'd be paranoid😭it's an arcane fic where jinx... becomes a popstar? except it's like, set in runeterra and vi is still in jail and all of that. like. I DONT KNOW HOW TO EXPLAIN HOW MUCH I FUCKING LOVE ITSKDF i swear i just love a good crack fic every now and then, and this did it WITH fame?? i love. and so yeah, looking back on it, i actually do think it inspired dear reader a bit in the way that jinx was absolutely chaotic (will i ever stop on the jinx nico parallels? i wrote a goddamn solangelo timebomb au already but i'm still going to be pointing it out)

he was seen on occasion (pacing the rocks, staring out at the midnight sea) by stargirltv is a solangelo fame au!! and i know that i already rec'd it. but like. you have to know how much i LOVE this fic and though, once again, the plots are pretty different - but also similar in the sense of the character dynamics! so yeah tbh i'd say i probably did, unintentionally, take a lot of inspo from this, just because i do love it so much, and it was one of the only fame au's for solangelo that i had read (i've read much more now, ofc, seeing as i stalk the fame and social media tags like a hawk)

and then the last thing i feel like i have to mention when talking about the inspiration for this fic is the book, red white and royal blue. i think i mentioned in the first chapter of talk your talk's end note that this entire au?? started off as a rwrb crossover in my head. nico's age was calculated with alex's in mind. will going to college at nyu was because i originally planned for alex and him to idk meet at a class or smth. cecil was originally a law student (another ironic thing for a child of hermes, and yet i ended up making him work towards cyber security lmfao) just so he could somehow become friends with alex. i was fully emerged in this universe where somehow these friend groups collided, and i fully orchestrated nico as a popstar just so that they'd have double the fandoms to go crazy about it. so does it really have to do anything with rwrb in terms of plot?? no, but alex and henry are entirely to thank for this!!!😭

i know that i kind of took a bit of a strange route for a popstar au in talk your talk so it doesn't really match the usual trope? like person is already famous -> meets someone, either famous or not -> fight to get together bc of the press -> some sort of leaked photo of them -> they choose each other in the end. and dont get me wrong, i will eat up that trope any day, but i do really like what i did with talk your talk! i love any form of fame au, and so it's always just fun to see different spins on the common tropes :)

thank you for the ask!!