#lunul

[autism-purgatory]

Seven Deadly Sins Tag

thanks for the tag @the-golden-comet and @tragedycoded!

Rules: which of your OCs would you assign to which of the seven deadly sins and why?

Starting off with Greed: Obviously Ra from LunuL. Being both the most powerful crime boss in Libertas and the landlord of the Wildfire, he’s unsurprisingly a dick who’s barely keeping his composure, especially after the Children of Oculus came into the picture.

Sloth: You know what I’m putting Cole from Viscered here. I can’t blame him tho, can’t imagine being anywhere close to a functional human being after your wife dies and your son might also have body horror powers. Oh, and also being spied on.

Wrath: Plenty of characters I’d choose *cough* Claw *Cough* but I’ll go with Loksworn from Our Lonely Ocean. The bloodthirsty Viking from the ever-frozen Freylands bumps heads with Tors a LOT. You kind of have to be like that in order to survive in the fantasy equivalent of an eternal nuclear winter.

Gluttony: Eh I don’t really know? Can’t think of an OC that fits this.

Envy: Max from Loop of the Hollow. I’d elaborate but that would also spoil the ever loving balls out of the story.

Lust: …Tors…and Feron what who said that.

Pride: Gonna go with Tors again! His whole deal as the royal knight has lead to both an ego and some serious self worth issues. Spoilers :)

tagging @moltenwrites @willtheweaver @cowboybrunch @deanwax + open tag

[autism-purgatory]

Leo has a prosthetic eye that can move independently. he lost his right eye when a mech demonstration went haywire. He is also autistic and experiences overstimulation often because most of his senses are cranked up to eleven.

Am, a close friend of his and a prosthetist, has tremors in both of their hands, but was heavily injured during the same mech demonstration. They now have a prosthetic arm that reaches to their elbow and a prosthetic foot, alongside various metal plates across their face and torso. They now run a shop for prosthetics and customization. I’m tempted to make their prosthetics look different every time they appear in the story with how much they tinker with them.

tell me about your disabled characters!

[squawkoverflow]

A new variant has been added!

Lunulated Antbird (Oneillornis lunulatus) © Tim Forrester

It hatches from brown, eastern, emphatic, female, male, northeastern, scarce, similar, tan, and white eggs.

squawkoverflow - the ultimate bird collecting game          🥚 hatch    ❤️ collect     🤝 connect

[popolodipekino]

eccetera, perché

[...] proprio di geometria si occupa nel folio 245r del Codice Arundel, l'ultimo foglio scritto da Leonardo nel 1518 mentre soggiornava nel Château d'Amboise, nella regione francese della Loira, dove gli appunti che accompagnano gli schizzi di triangoli con inscritti rettangoli equiestesi si interrompono bruscamente con la famosa annotazione, scritta con la solita minuta calligrafia specularmente capovolta, "ecc. perché la minestra si fredda". da G.I. Bischi, M. Bischi, Le lunule di Leonardo, in Giornale di Astronomia, Vol. 46° N. 4, dicembre 2020

[autism-purgatory]

id say I’m most proud of this work. I just released the 5th chapter not too long ago.

Kinda hoping to get more writeblr friends cos I wanna see everyone's writing, soooo

Reblog this with a link to your best written excerpt/short story and I'll go check you out??

This is totally not a way to procrastinate writing my own stuff 🥺

(Also here's a shameless plug to one of my stories :))

[autism-purgatory]

someone keeps clicking on LunuL. Don’t think I don’t see u.

[autism-purgatory]

and it’ll only get worse from here! 🕺

April Fool's! Instead of sharing an excerpt, share a meme or incorrect quote related to your WIP, OCs, or published work 😘

[gorjee-art]

CULT OF THE LAMB - THE MAKING OF IDOLS

Instead of faith it runs on admiration. Goal of the game is to make the gods “beautiful”. With the help of Lunule muse of vanity and Sonule muse of soul, you’ve been gifted the powers of creation. Crawl through each realm manipulating dungeons to your personal liking, no uncultured swine is safe from your magic touch. Trap god’s likenesses in Statue Gardens, Paintings, Poetry, and Song (may be freed later on). Over the progression of this tale you will meet several side characters, however Midas will be a bit of importance as he takes interest in your quest, aiding your journey in making everything beautiful.

Finding your Corpse (Story Point) -

There it stands. The Masterpiece of a lonesome, pitiful, artist. Name unknown, it stands here forgotten, devoted to it’s craft, the love for it’s muses. Your final breath was taken here. You’ve broken and ruined every bone in your body for your art and for what? You weren’t unloved, everyone warned you to stop.

Now here you rest, Left buried in the sands of time.

Was it worth it?

Rituals

Ritual of Performance - Feel like royalty as you choose which follower gets to entertain you. The performance is judged by the crowd over how well they did. It’s up to you to spare or execute them. (Even if spared they may not survive the humiliation.)

The Knowledge of the Muses - Give followers your inner ichor for them to devour and taste, locks admiration for 3 days and increases inspiration. Weakly followers have a chance to become deformed, body unable to handle the love of their leader.

Midas’ Touch - Sacrifice one of your followers to make a decorative statue. Increases admiration every time a follower passes by it, and gives warning to every dissenter. (Gifted Ritual by Midas)

Forever Yours - Your followers may asked to be sacrificed under your name. Thus the forever immortal ritual, they’ll allow you to do whatever change you desire to them, immortalized as a work of art no longer among the living. This ritual gives helpful trinkets for your crusades (they last every three crusades before disintegrating, special followers can give hardy trinkets that last longer)

- Follower Heart : Gives more starting hearts

- Follower Spine : Melee Damage

- Follower Eye : Forcefield Damage/Copies Curses

- Follower Teeth : Long Range Damage

- Follower Lungs : Increases your Speed

- Follower Head : Dissenters/Enemies will be paralyzed with fear

Muse’s Mercy - Strike your followers with maddening amounts of inspiration , they must create! Serve! Worship! With no end in sight. This ritual will increase cult productivity with no sleep, eating, or needed care for three days. (downsides is that 80% will be exhausted as soon as the ritual is over)

Follower Traits -

Critic - Like you they are very hard to please and level up, may be bribed to increase admiration.

Zealous - Fanatics, have unending fountains of admiration they want to be just like you! May be dangerously obsessive however. Be sure to stop them before they get a chance to become you and live under your skin. Oh how they love you so…

Gluttonous - Crayon Eaters…odd bunch. They like to eat art. So pretty they deem it to be tasty…

Tortured - High levels of admiration. The pursuit of perfection can lead your followers to madness… They’ll laugh, scream, and cry. If not careful, they might be driven to die or murder another follower.

[the-golden-comet]

✨Happy Fanfiction Friday!✨

Hellooooo~! This week has been very busy with leadership meetings, and I have six more in June (end of fiscal year. Lots of reports. Lots of retreats) so I haven’t been as active with the motivational days. I’ve also been writing my own story 🧞‍♂️, so it may take a while for me to respond if you tag me (please still do! I love to hear from you all. lt may just take me a little bit to respond 💖). Just know that you are lovely and I appreciate all your beautiful art ✨

However, this post will serve as my weekly contribution, as it has already reached so many artists and writers. I am so thankful it did, because y’all need to hear it. You lovely people need to hear these things. No more tearing yourselves down; it’s time to lift artists and writers up like the beautiful souls you are 💖

Speaking of supporting writers, it’s time for my fanfic recs. I’ve read a lot of your stories so far, so here are just a few of the myriad of lovely works I have had the pleasure of reading recently:

I Am Your Lover (I Am Your Jailor) by @justabigoldnerd (18+)

OKAY, you maybe saw me gush about this yesterday but it’s true— @justabigoldnerd masterfully crafts a fantasy narrative between Illya and Solo from The Man From U.N.C.L.E. His handling of heavier topics mixed with a lighter prose makes this just a gorgeous piece of literature. It’s got gay knights, a gay prince, and sex. Yes, I’m biased.

Also interwoven in between are some of the TENDEREST and FLUFFIEST moments that will make your heart melt. The villain in this story will make you viscerally upset—just as a heads up. @justabigoldnerd accomplishes all of these complex emotions so incredibly well, and I HIGHLY recommend you read it for yourself.

Five Years Is a Long Time to Not Call Your Mother by @poorreputation

Okay so this is Part 2 of their fic Dimples, which legit made me ugly cry with how good it is. So when this showed up in my inbox, I SCREAMED with joy. This is the sequel to this wonderful story on the fic’s birthday, and I cannot WAIT to see how it goes (though I will wait, because art this good takes time to make ✨)

Doom Metal Love Story by @fortunatetragedy

Okay I may be breaking my rules here with an original work, but FUCK the rules because THIS 🤌✨ beautiful story captures the raw and rigid emotions of Royston and Cole (what I’ve read so far), a beautiful train scene that I could paint in my mind thanks to @fortunatetragedy’s amazing prose work. Any story that can get me to paint a picture in my head like that is deserving a shoutout.

Speaking of fucking the rules:

LunuL by @autism-purgatory

This one. Right now. Drop what you’re doing and read it. Beautiful futuristic sci-fi with mad science thrown in and mixed masterfully, cyborg and cybernetic enhancements, and a beautiful bond between Leo and Ren, this is a must read. He works so hard on worldbuilding and it SHOWS, and his details are STILL beautifully crafted. Seriously, go read it.

That is all for now, but again—SO MANY STORIES. This doesn’t include the beautiful originals I’ve read here on Tumblr (Before Deluca by @dyrewrites has captured my heart with the insanely romantic storytelling style). Now, because of all of your wonderful and inspiring tales, I’m off to write my own ✨

[autism-purgatory]

I’ve got a lil sci fi story about the shenanigans of cringefail bounty hunters, one of which is just a sad wet cat. It’s five chapters in and I plan on releasing the next one sometime this month!

Hey writeblr! I’ve been struggling to sit down and read lately and I need something to put breaks in my endless scrolling and also my Job Hunt From Hell.

So, this is a call, send me excerpts, tag me in things if you want, or reblog it here, or DM me a link to a piece you’re proud of! I’m a tag rambler, I love horror, the supernatural, fucked up religious themes, sci-fi with a focus on the unknowable expanse of space, the deep sea, and any character so pathetic you can’t decide if you want to see them grow and be better or die tragically.

[papillondusublime]

Comme je descendais des Fleuves impassibles, Je ne me sentis plus guidé par les haleurs : Des Peaux-Rouges criards les avaient pris pour cibles, Les ayant cloués nus aux poteaux de couleurs.

J’étais insoucieux de tous les équipages, Porteur de blés flamands ou de cotons anglais. Quand avec mes haleurs ont fini ces tapages, Les Fleuves m’ont laissé descendre où je voulais.

Dans les clapotements furieux des marées, Moi, l’autre hiver, plus sourd que les cerveaux d’enfants, Je courus ! Et les Péninsules démarrées N’ont pas subi tohu-bohus plus triomphants.

La tempête a béni mes éveils maritimes. Plus léger qu’un bouchon j’ai dansé sur les flots Qu’on appelle rouleurs éternels de victimes, Dix nuits, sans regretter l’oeil niais des falots !

Plus douce qu’aux enfants la chair des pommes sures, L’eau verte pénétra ma coque de sapin Et des taches de vins bleus et des vomissures Me lava, dispersant gouvernail et grappin.

Et dès lors, je me suis baigné dans le Poème De la Mer, infusé d’astres, et lactescent, Dévorant les azurs verts ; où, flottaison blême Et ravie, un noyé pensif parfois descend ;

Où, teignant tout à coup les bleuités, délires Et rhythmes lents sous les rutilements du jour, Plus fortes que l’alcool, plus vastes que nos lyres, Fermentent les rousseurs amères de l’amour !

Je sais les cieux crevant en éclairs, et les trombes Et les ressacs et les courants : je sais le soir, L’Aube exaltée ainsi qu’un peuple de colombes, Et j’ai vu quelquefois ce que l’homme a cru voir !

J’ai vu le soleil bas, taché d’horreurs mystiques, Illuminant de longs figements violets, Pareils à des acteurs de drames très antiques Les flots roulant au loin leurs frissons de volets !

J’ai rêvé la nuit verte aux neiges éblouies, Baisers montant aux yeux des mers avec lenteurs, La circulation des sèves inouïes, Et l’éveil jaune et bleu des phosphores chanteurs !

J’ai suivi, des mois pleins, pareille aux vacheries Hystériques, la houle à l’assaut des récifs, Sans songer que les pieds lumineux des Maries Pussent forcer le mufle aux Océans poussifs !

J’ai heurté, savez-vous, d’incroyables Florides Mêlant aux fleurs des yeux de panthères à peaux D’hommes ! Des arcs-en-ciel tendus comme des brides Sous l’horizon des mers, à de glauques troupeaux !

J’ai vu fermenter les marais énormes, nasses Où pourrit dans les joncs tout un Léviathan ! Des écroulements d’eaux au milieu des bonaces, Et les lointains vers les gouffres cataractant !

Glaciers, soleils d’argent, flots nacreux, cieux de braises ! Échouages hideux au fond des golfes bruns Où les serpents géants dévorés des punaises Choient, des arbres tordus, avec de noirs parfums !

J’aurais voulu montrer aux enfants ces dorades Du flot bleu, ces poissons d’or, ces poissons chantants. – Des écumes de fleurs ont bercé mes dérades Et d’ineffables vents m’ont ailé par instants.

Parfois, martyr lassé des pôles et des zones, La mer dont le sanglot faisait mon roulis doux Montait vers moi ses fleurs d’ombre aux ventouses jaunes Et je restais, ainsi qu’une femme à genoux…

Presque île, ballottant sur mes bords les querelles Et les fientes d’oiseaux clabaudeurs aux yeux blonds. Et je voguais, lorsqu’à travers mes liens frêles Des noyés descendaient dormir, à reculons !

Or moi, bateau perdu sous les cheveux des anses, Jeté par l’ouragan dans l’éther sans oiseau, Moi dont les Monitors et les voiliers des Hanses N’auraient pas repêché la carcasse ivre d’eau ;

Libre, fumant, monté de brumes violettes, Moi qui trouais le ciel rougeoyant comme un mur Qui porte, confiture exquise aux bons poètes, Des lichens de soleil et des morves d’azur ;

Qui courais, taché de lunules électriques, Planche folle, escorté des hippocampes noirs, Quand les juillets faisaient crouler à coups de triques Les cieux ultramarins aux ardents entonnoirs ;

Moi qui tremblais, sentant geindre à cinquante lieues Le rut des Béhémots et les Maelstroms épais, Fileur éternel des immobilités bleues, Je regrette l’Europe aux anciens parapets !

J’ai vu des archipels sidéraux ! et des îles Dont les cieux délirants sont ouverts au vogueur : – Est-ce en ces nuits sans fonds que tu dors et t’exiles, Million d’oiseaux d’or, ô future Vigueur ?

Mais, vrai, j’ai trop pleuré ! Les Aubes sont navrantes. Toute lune est atroce et tout soleil amer : L’âcre amour m’a gonflé de torpeurs enivrantes. Ô que ma quille éclate ! Ô que j’aille à la mer !

Si je désire une eau d’Europe, c’est la flache Noire et froide où vers le crépuscule embaumé Un enfant accroupi plein de tristesse, lâche Un bateau frêle comme un papillon de mai.

Je ne puis plus, baigné de vos langueurs, ô lames, Enlever leur sillage aux porteurs de cotons, Ni traverser l’orgueil des drapeaux et des flammes, Ni nager sous les yeux horribles des pontons.

-Le bateau ivre, Arthur Rimbaud

[infinitesofnought]

Comme je descendais des Fleuves impassibles, Je ne me sentis plus guidé par les haleurs : Des Peaux-Rouges criards les avaient pris pour cibles Les ayant cloués nus aux poteaux de couleurs. J'étais insoucieux de tous les équipages, Porteur de blés flamands ou de cotons anglais. Quand avec mes haleurs ont fini ces tapages Les Fleuves m'ont laissé descendre où je voulais. Dans les clapotements furieux des marées Moi l'autre hiver plus sourd que les cerveaux d'enfants, Je courus ! Et les Péninsules démarrées N'ont pas subi tohu-bohus plus triomphants. La tempête a béni mes éveils maritimes. Plus léger qu'un bouchon j'ai dansé sur les flots Qu'on appelle rouleurs éternels de victimes, Dix nuits, sans regretter l'oeil niais des falots ! Plus douce qu'aux enfants la chair des pommes sures, L'eau verte pénétra ma coque de sapin Et des taches de vins bleus et des vomissures Me lava, dispersant gouvernail et grappin Et dès lors, je me suis baigné dans le Poème De la Mer, infusé d'astres, et lactescent, Dévorant les azurs verts ; où, flottaison blême Et ravie, un noyé pensif parfois descend ; Où, teignant tout à coup les bleuités, délires Et rythmes lents sous les rutilements du jour, Plus fortes que l'alcool, plus vastes que nos lyres, Fermentent les rousseurs amères de l'amour ! Je sais les cieux crevant en éclairs, et les trombes Et les ressacs et les courants : Je sais le soir, L'aube exaltée ainsi qu'un peuple de colombes, Et j'ai vu quelque fois ce que l'homme a cru voir ! J'ai vu le soleil bas, taché d'horreurs mystiques, Illuminant de longs figements violets, Pareils à des acteurs de drames très-antiques Les flots roulant au loin leurs frissons de volets ! J'ai rêvé la nuit verte aux neiges éblouies, Baiser montant aux yeux des mers avec lenteurs, La circulation des sèves inouïes, Et l'éveil jaune et bleu des phosphores chanteurs ! J'ai suivi, des mois pleins, pareille aux vacheries Hystériques, la houle à l'assaut des récifs, Sans songer que les pieds lumineux des Maries Pussent forcer le mufle aux Océans poussifs ! J'ai heurté, savez-vous, d'incroyables Florides Mêlant aux fleurs des yeux de panthères à peaux D'hommes ! Des arcs-en-ciel tendus comme des brides Sous l'horizon des mers, à de glauques troupeaux ! J'ai vu fermenter les marais énormes, nasses Où pourrit dans les joncs tout un Léviathan ! Des écroulement d'eau au milieu des bonaces, Et les lointains vers les gouffres cataractant ! Glaciers, soleils d'argent, flots nacreux, cieux de braises ! Échouages hideux au fond des golfes bruns Où les serpents géants dévorés de punaises Choient, des arbres tordus, avec de noirs parfums ! J'aurais voulu montrer aux enfants ces dorades Du flot bleu, ces poissons d'or, ces poissons chantants. - Des écumes de fleurs ont bercé mes dérades Et d'ineffables vents m'ont ailé par instants. Parfois, martyr lassé des pôles et des zones, La mer dont le sanglot faisait mon roulis doux Montait vers moi ses fleurs d'ombre aux ventouses jaunes Et je restais, ainsi qu'une femme à genoux... Presque île, balottant sur mes bords les querelles Et les fientes d'oiseaux clabaudeurs aux yeux blonds Et je voguais, lorsqu'à travers mes liens frêles Des noyés descendaient dormir, à reculons ! Or moi, bateau perdu sous les cheveux des anses, Jeté par l'ouragan dans l'éther sans oiseau, Moi dont les Monitors et les voiliers des Hanses N'auraient pas repêché la carcasse ivre d'eau ; Libre, fumant, monté de brumes violettes, Moi qui trouais le ciel rougeoyant comme un mur Qui porte, confiture exquise aux bons poètes, Des lichens de soleil et des morves d'azur, Qui courais, taché de lunules électriques, Planche folle, escorté des hippocampes noirs, Quand les juillets faisaient crouler à coups de triques Les cieux ultramarins aux ardents entonnoirs ; Moi qui tremblais, sentant geindre à cinquante lieues Le rut des Béhémots et les Maelstroms épais, Fileur éternel des immobilités bleues, Je regrette l'Europe aux anciens parapets !

J'ai vu des archipels sidéraux ! et des îles Dont les cieux délirants sont ouverts au vogueur : - Est-ce en ces nuits sans fond que tu dors et t'exiles, Million d'oiseaux d'or, ô future Vigueur ? -

Mais, vrai, j'ai trop pleuré ! Les Aubes sont navrantes. Toute lune est atroce et tout soleil amer : L'âcre amour m'a gonflé de torpeurs enivrantes. Ô que ma quille éclate ! Ô que j'aille à la mer !

Si je désire une eau d'Europe, c'est la flache Noire et froide où vers le crépuscule embaumé Un enfant accroupi plein de tristesses, lâche Un bateau frêle comme un papillon de mai.

Je ne puis plus, baigné de vos langueurs, ô lames, Enlever leur sillage aux porteurs de cotons, Ni traverser l'orgueil des drapeaux et des flammes, Ni nager sous les yeux horribles des pontons.

– Arthur Rimbaud, "Le Bateau ivre"

[autism-purgatory]

Thanks for the tag @elsie-writes

Incorrect Quote Tag

Using this link

.

Astra: Why are there little handprints all over the walls?  Ren, whispering: Why are there little handprints all over the walls?  Leo, whispering: Because I have little hands.  Ren: Because they have little hands.

Ren: Leo, please calm down.  Leo: I asked for two large fries!  Leo: *dumps fries onto table*  Leo: But all they did was give me a MILLION FUCKING LITTLE ONES!

Leo: I don’t even have time to tell you how wrong you are.  Ren: Okay?  Leo: …  Leo: …  Leo: Actually it’s gonna bug me if I don’t, so—

Leo: We’ll find another route, it’s not safe for amateur adventurers.  Ren: That sounds like a challenge.  Leo: I have to stress, that is not a challenge.  Ren: ...Is exactly what you say to dissuade the weak of heart from accepting the challenge. Well, challenge accepted!  Leo: There is no challenge!

Ren: I'm having problems with a guy...  Astra: Like his dead body won't fit into your trunk kind of problems, or you like him kind of problems?

Ren, texting Astra: Roses are red, Tony Hawk is a skater…  Astra′s phone, auto-replying: I’m driving right now–I’ll get back to you later.  *Later*  Astra, texting back: Fuck you.

these aren’t incorrect quotes bc they absolutely would have convos like these

Open tag bc I don’t want to bother people yaaay

Thanks for this glorious tag @kaylinalexanderbooks! I might have gone a touch over board :)

Incorrect quote tag

Using this link

.

Mashal: *running towards Ivander with open arms*

Ivander: *moves out of the way*

Mashal: Hey, why'd you move?!

Ivander: I thought you were going to attack me.

Mashal: I was going to hug you!

Ivander: Why would you hug me?

Mashal: WHY WOULD I ATTACK YOU!?

Astra: I'm not funny, I'm just really mean and people think I'm joking.

Ivander: Tired of just deserving better. Gonna start taking it by force.

Astra: *banging a pen on the table out of frustration*

Mashal: Stop that. How would YOU feel if I banged you on the table?

Astra: I—

Astra: I mean... >;)

Djek: Kill me nowwwww.

Twenari: Sorry, no can do. I need your help with my homework.

Twenari: Izjik, why are you crying?

Izjik: This book is so sad!!

Twenari, picking it up: But this is my diary-

Djek: I was born for politics. I have great hair and I love lying.

Sepo: Don't worry, I've got a few knives up my sleeve.

Twenari: I think you mean cards.

Izjik: He did not.

Sepo, pulling out knives: I did not.

Djek: Sepo! I thought you were dead!

Sepo: No, just in deep cover.

Djek: ...But it was an open casket.

Sepo: It was very deep.

Sepo: Wow, they really hate us.

Izjik: Yes, perhaps they’re homophobic.

Sepo: But we’re not gay, Izjik.

Izjik:

Sepo:

Izjik: We’re not?

Twenari: So, what is Izjik to you?

Sepo: The reason I wake up every morning.

Twenari: ...That’s adorable.

Izjik earlier that morning, barging into Sepo′s room, smacking pans together: WAKE UP WAKE UP WAKE UP WAKE UP WAKE UP!!!

.

I'll tag @mk-writes-stuff @kbwritesstuff @kosmic-kore @elsie-writes @roach-pizza @buffythevampirelover and who ever else would like to play!

[detournementsmineurs]

"Lunule" de l'Âge de Bronze en or (circa 2000 avant J.-C.) dans la "Collection Al Thani” présentée à l'Hôtel de la Marine, Place de la Concorde, Paris, décembre 2023.

[autism-purgatory]

Hello, GJ! 👋

For the ask game, can you give me Pantser and Architect please? 💫✨

thanks for the ask!

Pantser: Oh god, so much stuff for LunuL was changed the literal day I started actually writing it. Leo’s sensory issues were never really explored, Ren was originally named Bruce 🤢 and Astra was WAY more of a cunt than she is in the final version. Claw’s whole deal was completely different, Am didn’t exist. In fact there were little to no side characters besides Claw. It was only when I started the rough draft that I realized how little of the plot I had actually fleshed out. Also keep in mind i had LunuL in my head for a whole year before I started writing it

Architect: The setting, the end, the characters, and the story arcs. Writing in arcs has been super helpful bc I don’t run into the issue of knowing the beginning and ending but coming blank with everything else.

[the-golden-comet]

Okay, I need to say this:

The last time I read a book, like actually read (not my own proof reading for stories) was college. Not a lot of required literature could hold my attention for too long, due to my hyperactive brain.

But the stories I’ve read on AO3, from my mutuals and otherwise, have been some of the most outstanding works I have ever had the pleasure of coming across. Not only are these stories captivating, tear-jerking, and heartwarming, but they are so carefully crafted that I’m wondering how I’ve ever missed them.

I’ve said this before, but I’ll say it again: It doesn’t matter which fandom a work is from. A good story is a good story, and with a strong enough narrative, it can pull ANY audience.

I’ve been shown the pleasure of amazing fandoms, from TMFU (thank you, @justabigoldnerd ), to ATEEZ (thank you, @froggy-pposto ), to Original Stories like LunuL (thank you, @autism-purgatory ), NFL Hockey (thank you, @glasshouses-and-stones ) Banana Fish (thank you, @gioiaalbanoart ), among many others (thank you @alwri-tes , @alinacapellabooks , @poorreputation )

You are all fantastic writers, and if I missed anyone: just know that you’re a fantastic writer, too! I have had so much fun reading all your stories, that I gotta start back writing my WIP.

Thank you all for your creativity. You all are inspirational, and your works are phenomenal. 💫