#reader feedback

[destinationtoast]

Hello! I keep hearing that fandom culture has changed, and there are less comments now than there were years ago. Have you noticed this in your analysis? Is the percentage of comments being left today lower than before?

Hey! Thanks for the question -- it prompted me to start collecting data about comments (after procrastinating on it for a while, because I had to write new code to gather comment data). I've also seen other discussions from folks also thinking about how to do this kind of analysis (like in the fandom data projects community) -- hopefully we'll end up with multiple people attacking this from different angles and getting a variety of data about comments!

I'll give a sneak preview that partially addresses your question and contains some good news. If we look at the fraction of AO3 works that get at least one comment (focusing just on one-shots for now), I think things have gotten better over the past decade on AO3*:

In other words, it tentatively looks like more works were getting at least one comment in 2024 than in 2014 (for a variety of time periods). One caveat, though -- if a bunch of works with no comments got deleted in the interim, there will be survivor bias here. I'll try to look into that possibility later. Another caveat: this is based on only like ~100 randomly selected works from each year -- this may all change with more data!

Another interesting tidbit: I still see some of the 2014 works getting comments. In fact, ~30% of works have gotten new comments over 5 years after they were posted, and it looks like ~10% of one-shots posted back in Mar 2014 got a new comment in 10 years later, in 2024.

I'm still doing other analyses; there may be other factors that better match with the discourse around how comment culture has changed. It could be that comment activity peters out faster now than it did back then, for instance. Or the total number of comments left on the popular works is less now than it was back then (though my current methods may not be able to capture that). Edit thanks to quick eagle-eyed readers: it's likely that some of what people are thinking about is ratio of comments to hits -- that is hard to compare in 2014 to 2024, because we don't know which hits came from which years. But I am working on some analyses along those lines. :)

If you have other hypotheses about what's changed in commenting culture, feel free to share! I'll look into what I can.

Some methodology notes:

*I've been tackling this by comparing AO3 one-shots posted in early 2014 to one-shots posted in 2024, and comparing activity in the days/weeks/months immediately after the works were posted. (To start with, I'm only scraping the first page of comments for each work -- meaning the first 20 comment threads -- so there are lots of comments I'm potentially missing for the really popular works. But for many works, this captures all the comments, and I think it may be sufficient for a lot of the analyses I am interested in.)

I'm choosing to focus on 2014 vs. 2024 because 2024 is close to now (but it's been long enough for comments to have settled down a bit), and 2014 was well after AO3 was established (thus it was already a pretty lively time on AO3). I don't want to collect data about every single year because it's too time intensive/too hard on AO3's servers. But if people think that I should be looking at different years, I'm interested in feedback.

Because it's only been ~10 months since March 2024, I am limiting a lot of my analyses to only look at commenting activity the first ~10 months after works were posted in both cases.

[tealin]

Hello! First I just wanted to say WOW I can’t believe my favourite fan artist from what feels like AGES ago (Cabin Pressure!! Discworld!!) is now making a graphic novel of Worst Journey! It’s like going to high school with someone who’s now a worldwide rock star!!! Massive congratulations!!! And good timing too, for the last two years polar and especially Antarctic exploration has been my rabbit hole!

Second, I really do just love your art style! I’m so glad I’m seeing it again and you’ve gotten such recognition!!! Thank you for continuing to inspire me (and others I’m sure!) to keep practicing my art — and now, to keep researching!!

It's always a special day when someone who knew my work from way back happens upon what I'm doing now.

Although, I can guarantee you, I am anything but a worldwide rock star.

Keep drawing! (and researching!)

(If you don't know what anon is talking about, go to worstjourney.com or indeed @worstjourney on this very social media platform.)

[novankenn]

Tenuous Partnership - A Question

A question for those who are enjoying this story. I have an idea that I do want to explore, but I'm not sure if you my readers would find it reasonable to add to this particular story.

Basically it boils down to... do I mutate Jaune. Below are two images of Medusa(Gorgons), now Jaune will still remain male I'm just wondering if I should make him even more monstrous in appearance.

(Images sourced via Google. No rights assumed or claimed)

The FIRST picture is basically how Jaune is now. Human, but with snakes for hair, and some hidden traits.

The SECOND picture is what I'm thinking of having Jaune morph/mutate into. Basically his lower body fuses and becomes that of a large snake.

FEEL FREE to offer other ideas in the comments. Thank you for helping me out. I have one from @deserteddanny suggesting just giving Jaune a monstrous transformation.

[scottxlogan]

Friendly Reminder

If you happen to visit AO3 today and read a fic make sure before you leave you give the author a kudos. Trust me they will appreciate it!

Also if you are thinking about going to AO3 and have a favorite author give them a kudos as well to let them know you love what they do. It will make their day!

Plus, if you weren't thinking about AO3 but you might be looking for something fun to read, head on over and give an author a kudos! It will be the best gift you can give for their efforts (aside from a comment if you feel so inclined to do so!)!!!!

Thanks!

[lightthewaybackhome]

"Psyche's job, everyone's job, was to do the hard things that needed doing, trusting that somehow it would be well. It would not be, the Song reminded her, an easy hope. It was not a lazy summer morning hope. It was the sharp cut of ice, the depths of snow, the frozen night sky. It did not mean - it had never meant - that anyone escaped suffering. It had never meant that Psyche could not lose everything she cherished. But it was hope nonetheless. A hope that promised all evil, no matter how twisted, could and would be straightened back to good."

-Stoneheart

Our book is live! This is a dream come true! Here is a book I wrote with my name on it! Thank you, @alana-k-asby making this story more beautiful and joining me on this journey!

[worstjourney]

Just wanted to say I read volume 1 today and did not put it down until I finished reading it AND all of the annotations!!! Absolutely loved it!!!

Thank you anon! This is very kind of you!

If anyone is following who does not know what anon is talking about, may I direct you to worstjourney.com ...

[lilibookverse]

✨ Golden: The Royal Merchant Hunt ✨

🌻☀️✨🍯🐝💛🌻☀️✨🍯🐝💛🌻☀️✨🍯🐝💛🌻☀️✨🍯🐝

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☀️ Chapter 5 Previous | Current | Next

⏳ Word Count: 2k9

🔗 Read it on Wattpad: in English, and in French

This hand… She could recognize it among thousands. 

The coldness of the silver rings, the light tanning, and the softness of his skin — each sensation intertwined with memories that flickered like candlelight in the girl’s mind. 

Camilla's heart pounded in her chest as she wriggled free from his grip, spinning around to face him. Her breath caught, and for a brief second, neither of them spoke. She stepped back, eyes wide, taking in the familiar blond hair, his face shadowed with tension. JJ’s fear of being caught by the owner of the house was suddenly replaced by confusion. 

“Cami’ what the hell are you doing here?”.

“What?” She blinked, caught off guard.

“This is a drug dealer’s den! You shouldn’t be anywhere near a place like this, it’s not safe for a girl like you!” The blond boy’s frustration flared; his fists clenched at his sides.

“A girl like me?” She echoed, stunned, her eyes narrowing as the words sunk in.

A girl like her. What was that supposed to mean? Did he really see her as some fragile, porcelain doll — something so delicate and fragile it might shatter at the slightest touch? Camilla's chest tightened at the thought. She refused to let herself believe it. She was not someone who needed protecting. And then it hit her — what was he doing here?

“What are you doing here, J?” The question slipped out before she could stop it.

For a moment, JJ froze, stunned by the nickname. It had been years since she had called him that. Something warm flickered in his chest, softening the tension in his body, and a faint flush crept across his cheeks. When he looked up again, he realized his hands were still on her arms, holding on as if he was afraid to let her go. Embarrassed, he quickly released his grip, his fingers lingering for a second longer than they should have before he shoved his hands deep into his pockets.

Camilla, as for her, did not waste a second as her eyes scanner his face, searching for answers. The bruise on his cheek and the cut on his lip told a different story than the one she had hoped to find. 

She reached up, hesitantly placing her hand against his cheek, her fingers brushing over the swollen skin. He flinched at her touch, but did not pull away. He had been in a fight — and not long ago, judging by the fresh, pinkish color of the bruise.

“Were you coming back from your place?” She asked softly, her voice uncertain, careful not to rush him.

JJ only nodded, not wanting to dwell on the subject. He hated when people saw him like this, saw his weakness, even if it was Camilla. She let her hand drop, and as if on cue, JJ stepped back, the distance between them growing as he resumed walking. 

He lit his juul, taking a drag, the small cloud of vapor filling the air between them.

“JJ! Wait up!” Camilla called after him, quickening her pace to match his long strides. “Are you going to John B’s?” He did not look back.  

“It’s none of your business. I’m not on the clock, princess.” He bitterly joked.

“Actually, it is. I wanted to apologize for yesterday… What Rafe did… Well, he really acted like the biggest jerk I’ve ever met…” She said, ignoring his sharp tone. 

“Great. Nice to hear. Anything else?”

His voice was cold, a clear signal he did not want to continue the conversation. Camilla bit her lip, sensing the wall he had built around himself. So, she gave a small nod, watching as he disappeared into the trees, his figure swallowed by the fading light of the setting sun. 

For a moment, she stood there, alone, the weight of everything heavy on her shoulders. The quiet crept in around her, and with the sun sinking lower, she decided not to stay around for longer. With a sigh, she made her way back to her car, hoping that when she got home, her father would not be waiting.

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The moment she opened the heavy oak door, Andrew greeted her with a sympathetic smile.

“Your father wants to see you in his office, Mademoiselle. Immediately.” Her heart sank, but she went without protest, heading straight to the office.

As she entered, she noticed the new picture frames her father had placed on his desk. One caught her eye — a family photo taken in front of their Christmas tree, eleven years ago. Her mother and father were beaming at each other with such love in their eyes, while she and Amaury, her brother, stood proudly holding their new toys. Camilla picked up the frame, her fingers tracing the glass, lost in the memory of happier times, when her family had been whole. But her reverie was shattered when her father stormed into the room, slamming the door with a deafening crash. 

His face was twisted with rage.

“You are grounded! No parties, no going out! For two weeks!” His voice was a roar.

“What? Why?” Camilla’s shock quickly gave way to indignation.

“You’re talking back? Make that three weeks!” His anger flared hotter.

“But-”

“Do you want to make this worse for yourself? Go ahead, just tell me then. Where have you been all day?” His eyes blazed, daring her to lie. 

“I was at Topper’s! I spent the whole day there.” She snapped, rolling her eyes, trying to make the lie sound convincing.  

“Wrong. I know you went to The Cut. I told you not to go there! And to top it off, you took one of my cars without permission and lied straight to my face!”

“How do you even—?”

“In your room. Now!”

“What, are you spying on me now?” Camilla shot back, her voice rising with frustration.

“No, I’m protecting you. Those people are a bad influence, and they’ll drag you down with them! Now get to your room!”

Camilla stood frozen for a fraction of a second, rage bubbling under her skin. Without another word, she stormed up the stairs, taking them four at a time, her heart pounding with fury.

“And don’t you dare slam that door!” Her father’s voice echoed from below, a final warning.

Bang. The door slammed shut with a violent thud.

Downstairs, her father stood fuming in the wreckage of his office. In his fury, he swept everything off the desk, sending papers and books crashing to the floor. Then, his anger subsiding into something deeper, he sank into his chair, reaching for a glass of whiskey. 

His hand trembled as he picked up the same family photo Camilla had held earlier. His gaze softened as he stared at the picture, his heart aching for a time long gone — for the laughter, the joy, the light that had once shone in his little girl’s eyes. But she was not that girl anymore.

Upstairs, Camilla collapsed onto her bed, tears stinging her eyes as she reached for her headphones. She turned the volume of the music loud enough to drown out the world, to block out her father’s anger, her own hurt, and the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside her. 

She hated him in moments like this, hated how he could shift from caring to cruel in the blink of an eye. His work consumed him, blurring the lines between his job and his role as her father. He treated her problems like they were just another law case on his desk, no different from the wealthy clients he dealt with, always whining about paying back what they owed. 

As the music blared in her ears, she focused on nothing but the rhythm, letting it wash over her, a wall between her and the outside world. Slowly, the exhaustion took over, and she drifted into sleep, clutching the worn teddy bear her mother had given her when she was five — the same one she had once hold up so proudly in the picture.

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Meanwhile, on the HMS Pogues, which was lazily drifting along the marsh, the Pogues sat around, sipping beers and bickering as the sun hung low in the sky. The afternoon air was thick with the sound of waves crashing softly on the hull, but it did not drown out their banter.

“Hey, guys, I saw Camilla on my way here.” JJ said, abruptly cutting short the conversation about Pope’s scholarship. 

“What? Where?” Kiara asked eager to know more about the girl she used to spend hours talking to about turtles and saving the planet.

“At Barry’s house.” JJ answered casually, like it was the most normal thing in the world.

“What was she doing there?” John B asked, narrowing his eyes, as JJ shrugged.

“Dishing out groceries, helping whoever needed it. Usual saint stuff.”

“That girl really is something else…” John B joked, earning an annoyed glance from JJ, his jaw tightening. 

“She said she was sorry about Rafe’s outburst at the beach… and everything else.” JJ passed along her message, his tone softer than usual. 

“Well, instead of apologizing, maybe she should stop hanging out with that douche. That’d solve a lot of problems for everyone.” Kiara muttered, rolling her eyes. 

“If you say so, Kie.” JJ replied, as John B leaned forward, frowning. 

“Don’t you think it’s weird?” 

“What’s weird, JB?” Pope asked, leaning back against the boat’s worn seating.

“I don’t know, man. She disappeared two years ago, cut you guys off, no explanation, nothing… Now, all of a sudden, she’s back?” 

“Oh my God, are you seriously starting a conspiracy theory? Are you complotting?” Pope laughed, shaking his head. 

“No… I’m just saying it’s suspicious…” John B insisted, his voice rising defensively. 

“And I’m pretty sure you are over-thinking this whole situation.” Pope gave him a look. 

“Like always.” Kiara joined in, raising her beer. “Everything’s weird to you, JB.” 

John B opened his mouth to retort, but JJ, grinning wider by the second, interrupted. 

“Hey, Kie? Weren’t you the one who hated her guts? And now you’re all ‘Camilla’s misunderstood’?” The blonde’s grin grew even wider as he watched her expression falter. 

“Not you, of all people, trying to call me out, JJ.” Kiara shot back, folding her arms. “Besides, I think she had her reasons for leaving. Just like she’s got her reasons for coming back.” 

Pope hummed in agreement, though not entirely convinced. 

“But…” JJ trailed off.

“But she’s still a bitch!”

The group burst into laughter, the tension evaporating as they joked and continued their plans for the summer. They were aiming for one thing — good times, all the time. 

Annoyed with the chatter, JJ wandered over to the edge of the boat, brimming with energy and a new idea for one of his many ridiculous party tricks.

“Hey, Pope! Can you go a little faster?” JJ called, raising his beer high above his head, the light from the sun glinting off the bottle. 

“Here we go. I’m movin’…” Pope muttered as he revved the engine slightly. 

“Doesn’t work. We’ve tried this like 6,000 times.” John B scoffed, watching JJ with a bemused expression. 

“I got this! It’s gonna work this time!” JJ insisted, adjusting his arm, trying to angle the beer just right, hoping the speed and gravity would pour it straight into his mouth.

From behind him, his friends started complaining.

“You’re getting beer in my hair!” Kiara groaned, flicking droplets from her forehead. 

“Oh my God, seriously, JJ?” Pope rolled his eyes. 

“All right! All right, you’re done.” John B said, stepping in like a parent corralling an over-excited kid. 

Before JJ could react, the boat’s motor sputtered and rattled violently. The sudden jolt sent everyone stumbling, and before they knew it, JJ was catapulted headfirst into the water with a splash, his beer flying out of his hand. 

“Jesus, Pope!” Kiara groaned, pushing herself off the floor of the boat and rubbing her forehead, still reeling from the shock. 

John B scrambled to the edge, peering into the water. 

“You okay, JJ?” 

“I think my heels touched the back of my head.” JJ groaned, floating on his back, his voice muffled by the water.

After calming down from the incident, they all looked down in the marsh, finding out that what caused them to abruptly stop was a boat. John B dived into the water, resurfacing with a motel key.

The four friends then decided to report their discovery to the Coast Guard, hoping it might lead to some reward or at least spare them from a summer of work.

But when the officer brushed them off, dismissing their find, the group — against Pope’s better judgment — agreed to investigate the motel themselves. They wanted to know who owned that mysterious boat.

“I thought the Château looked bad.” JJ scoffed as they arrived at the rundown motel. 

“This place is a shit show.” John B agreed. 

“Motel or meth lab?” Kiara chimed in. 

“You be the judge." Pope muttered. 

“Doesn’t look like a place somebody with a Grady-White stays…” John B observed.

“No. Looks like a place someone with a Grady-White would get killed…” 

“This is your captain speaking. HMS Pogue comin’ in for landing. Whoo!” JJ cheered, jumping off their boat with the anchor, tying it to the shore.

With half-hearted promises to ‘be careful’ that no one actually believed, John B and JJ headed up the rickety motel stairs toward the room tied to the boat owner. As usual, JJ could not resist teasing his best friend.

“Just be so careful, John B.” JJ said in a high-pitched mockery of Kiara's voice, massaging his friend's shoulders exaggeratedly. “Give me that John D already.” John B shot him a warning look.

“Shut up, dude.”

“When are you gonna swoop on that, man?” JJ pressed, smirking.

“Bro, you know the rule. No Pogue-on-Pogue macking.” John B reminded him. “Plus, you’re the one always hitting on every girl. What’s the name of the latest? Carla? Carola?”

“Camilla.” JJ corrected. “And yeah, of course I hit on her. Super-hot rich chick avoiding me? Makes sense. Her boyfriend’s a jerk anyway. But I’m pretty sure the door’s locked because I’ve tried it before.” John B rolled his eyes.

“You need help. Not a little help, you need a lot of help. It’s like every girl who has a heartbeat; you’re like ‘Uhhh’!” He mimicked JJ, walking forward with exaggerated desperation, reaching out like he was chasing a girl, while JJ just grinned.

“What? It’s not a big deal. Is that us?” They arrived at the door. “Twenty-nine.” JJ knocked lightly; his voice suddenly high-pitched again. “Housekeeping!”

When no one answered, they decided to walk into the room and rummaged through it. John B desperately tried to keep an eye on his friend who was busy stuffing random items into his pockets, clearly up to no good. The police then showed up and it all got down pretty quickly. 

They hid on the window threshold; JJ accidentally dropped a gun he had previously snatched from the room, the metallic clatter nearly giving them away. As soon as the coast was clear, they bolted out, back to the HMS Pogue. At The Château later, the group huddled on the patio, tension thick in the air.

“Okay. So, um… We didn’t see anything. We don’t know anything.” Pope insisted, pacing anxiously. “We need to have total and complete amnesia.”

“Actually, Pope’s right for one.” JJ said, mocking him with a grin. “See I agree with you sometimes… Deny, Deny, Deny.” 

“Guys, we can’t keep that money.” Kiara interrupted, trying to talk sense into them.

“Okay. Not all of us can afford unlimited data plans, Kiara” JJ retorted.

“Like you use data plans anyway… You never call anyone.” John B snarled. 

“I could call someone?”

“Oh yeah, like who?” 

The two boys kept on bickering about whether JJ was right or not, before Kiara jumped in to try and settle the situation.

“We have to pass that off to Lana Grubbs. Otherwise, it’s bad karma.” She cut in, throwing her hands up in the air.

“Bad karma to be implicated in a felony, too.” Pope stressed. “We gotta go dark.”

“If that means we get to keep the money, then I agree.” JJ shrugged.

 “I’m not!” John B cut in. JJ looked at him, surprised.

“What? Why?” JJ asked, as John B raked a hand through his hair, thinking aloud.

They all needed the money, but something about it did not sit right. He exposed his facts, trying to convince his friend to do something much bigger. Indeed, Scotter Grubbs was known to be a dirtbag marina rat, begging for change, never having more than 40 bucks in his pocket. How comes he get a brand-new Grady-White? A boat that coasts about fifty thousand dollars. 

Something was off, and John B could feel that there was much more money sitting in the boat, waiting for them to come and take it. 

“For the record, if that is a smuggling ship with illegal contraband on the inside of it, it probably belongs to someone else.” Pope pointed out.

“Minor details.” Kiara muttered. 

“They could come looking for it.” Pope warned, his voice rising. “Taking it would be catastrophically stupid.” JJ waved him off, flashing the cash he’d swiped. 

“Right, well stupid things have good outcomes all the time!” He hummed. “All we need to do is figure out a way to get into the cargo hold of that wreck. Until then, we just lay low. Just act normal.” Pope threw his hands up.

“And how exactly do we do that?”

“Kegger?” Kiara proposed.

🌻☀️✨🍯🐝💛🌻☀️✨🍯🐝💛🌻☀️✨🍯🐝💛🌻☀️✨🍯🐝

📢 Taglist: @lomahdu @gaborane @dellslibary @h3r-h3arts-with-obx @natashaluv05

🌻 Reblog & share if you enjoy! Your support means the world!

🌻☀️✨🍯🐝💛🌻☀️✨🍯🐝💛🌻☀️✨🍯🐝💛🌻☀️✨🍯🐝  

✦ Written by: @lilibookverse ✦ All rights reserved – do not copy, repost, or claim as your own

🌻☀️✨🍯🐝💛🌻☀️✨🍯🐝💛🌻☀️✨🍯🐝💛🌻☀️✨🍯🐝

[malecaptions]

Hey! I've been browsing your blog on and off all day and I think your captions are great.

I have to ask though: is this a kink? Or are you a closeted trans man? Or is this a parody? I genuinely can't tell. You also don't have to answer if you don't have one, of course. I'm just trying to figure out what draws you to this genre.

Regardless, I love the way your mind manages to take all these random images from pop culture and turn them into force masculinization scenes. Some are clever, some are funny, and they're all fun to me.

I hope you have a good day today!

This isn't the first time someone's wondered if this is a sexual thing. It isn't anything serious like that, these are just fun ideas that are neat for me to think about sometimes, but I don't want to judge people who have any of that going on themselves.

It feels very rewarding seeing that my captions are fun for other people online too. Thank you for writing to me!

[arrolyn1114]

Why Can't You See What You're Doin' To Me? Taglist Post

Just making myself a taglist post with everyone I've gathered up so far. Existing people: please let me know if I need to make any changes. Hopefully I haven't missed anyone so if I have please let me know. And if anyone who isn't on here yet sees this post and wishes to be added just let me know and it shall be done. Thanks y'all!

@thatbanditqueen, @be-my-ally, @ellie-24, @whositmcwhatsit, @vintageshanny, @from-memphis-with-love,

@xanatenshi, @karel-in-wonderland, @peskybedtime, @alienelvisobsession, @louisejoy86, @artlover8992, @windsofthesea, @gayforelvis, @notstefaniepresley, @lovininapinkcadillac, @dkayfixates, @jaqueline19997, @presleyenterprise, @crash-and-cure, @literally-just-elvis-fics, @wildhorseinkansas, @tacozebra051, @lookingforrainbows, @spooky-hazex, @powerofelvis, @ashtag6887, @myradiaz, @richardslady121, @elvisrealgf, @genetakovicluvr, @thetaoofzoe, @mydarlingelvis

@j-v-9-2

@mspoisonivey

@aaron57070

@rainyday10-4

@rocknroll50sep

@dream-in-x-dream2

@sasural

@satisfy-the-crave

@velvetelvis

@sillybookmarks

@everythingelvispresley

@elvisgirly

@1dluver13xx

@thedaisymaisy

@amydarcimarie

@p0lksaladannie, @oh-my-front-door, @fallinlovewithurlove, @shantellescrivener, @i-r-i-n-a-a, @stargirllily19, @laura23elvis, @meetmeatyourworst, @rachelljeann222, @precious-lil-scoundrel, @peaceloveelvis, @returntopresley, @tupelomiss, @archival-ep

@pinkcaddyconfessions, @gatheraheart, @rachel-snider19, @tina2345678, @annapresley8 @deniseinmn, @elvispresleywife, @elvispresleysslut, @lovemoonsstuff, @sfull12345

@rosarodrigues, @all-hookedup-on-elvis, @queenheartz

@little-laamb, @pixiedustcosmos, @indiatuck, @sabovanhalen, @obsessionisthecure, @hooked-on-elvis @aprilbluey @laurenoned

@epthedream69 @underthememphissun @presley72elvis @m-s30 @eapep @rjmartin11 @dreamingofep

@vaelzz @atrophyingaphrodite @lola-1013 @atleastpleasetelephone

@that-hotdog @slayingjd @i5uckersblog @alittlemoreelvis @where-are-you-everywhere

@cherrycolaride @ourjoyfulwhisperscollectorworld @fabrygeimsdin

[destinationtoast]

Hi! You made another (absolutely fascinating) post about commenting trends in fandom over time, and that got me thinking about another thing I’m curious about: differences in comment culture across fandoms. Anecdotally, I’ve noticed several fandoms (the Silmarillion and The Murderbot Diaries come to mind) that seem to get proportionally more / more detailed comments than other fandoms I’ve been in. I have no idea if this is backed up by evidence or if it’s possible to analyze that kind of thing with actual data, but I think it’s interesting!

Hey! Sorry this took ages to respond to -- I believe you were probably referring to this post or the original of that thread, if you or anyone else wants a refresher on the context. :)

That's really interesting, and matches with my own anecdotal experience when I've observed when I've dipped my toes into fandoms that were smaller but had at least a handful of people posting. I would bet that communities are more likely to form in smaller groups -- you keep recognizing and interacting with a smaller group of people, and you feel more motivated to be thoughtful about their fanworks. Which I suspect then encourages even folks outside the tight-knit core community to leave longer comments.

But I have no relevant data yet -- that's all anecdotal/speculation on my part. I hope to get back to working on my ao3 comments soon and to keep looking at comment trends over time, though. And you've helped inspire me to think about analyzing comment length and to compare different fandoms, as part of that! :)

I'd also love to hear if anyone else has relevant data, or feel free to share your relevant experiences and/or hypotheses!

[novankenn]

Question... What Folklore/Monster should I turn Jaune into Next?

So thinking back on my stories, I've made Jaune into quite a few different monsters here on Tumblr. So what type of creature should I play with next? (I really have fun doing these and trying to keep Jaune close to cannon (at least I hope I do)).

For Reference these are the ones I've already done...

Gorgon/Medusa - Tenuous Partnership

Sime(Girl) - Secretly Rare

Wendigo - Ravenous Familiae

Demon Possessed Serial Killer - Unnatural

Fae (Fairy) - Things Best Left... Alone

Generic Malevolent Entity - Sweet Dreams

Zombie (sort of) - Corpse Queen

Machine Doll/Golem - Unbreakable Machine Arcs

Genie (sort of) - One & 1/2 Heroes

Mime - Power of the... Mime!!!

Angel - Coco's Search for a WAIFU or The Purgatory of Jaune

DeathKnight - All we have... is now..

I wish to avoid the more popular ones like Werewolf, and Vampire, as other authors have done excellent versions of that Jaune.

So I have collected a few monsters/spirits that I think could be fun to play with. But feel free to add others in the comments if you wish. Yes I know most of these are "traditionally female"... but I'm more interested in the abilities/motivations than the appearance.

As always feel free to add to this through the comments sections. This is to give me an idea what types of "creatures" you would like to see. Multiple pulls from this list are going to happen.

(A/N - Can't believe I forgot to include my most recent Monster!Jaune story in the examples list. Duh!)

[i-prefer-base-twelve]

Jsyk the mention in NITW to Squall typing like a homestuck is like. Getting clobbered over the head by a snowball your ex threw in the middle of August. No matter where I go I never escape it.

ahahahaha I'm so sorry But listen - the story is set in 2014 or 2015 (I forget now. But I think it's 2014). We're lucky Homestuck doesn't get more than a passing reference.

[grounded-gryphon]

A reader just compared my writing to Ursula leGuin and I am SO stoked!

(Specifically said that Planting Life feels 'LeGuinian' to them.)

[fixomnia-scribble]

On Ao3 Hits

Like other animals, human writers have a variety of motivations. Food, pets, et cetera. If you are a human writer who is motivated by hit:kudos ratios, this is your reminder that:

ONE HIT ≠ ONE READER

Ao3 calculates a single hit as "any number of page or chapter views from a single IP within a single day".

If someone refreshes a page, or switches devices, that will add another hit.

If someone comes back after that day, that'll be another hit.

There may be other fine-tunings, like cookie dumps etc, but I haven't confirmed those. Feel free to elaborate in notes.

So, if you are feeling bummed by the ratio, in this era of much reduced feedback, remember a rise in hits with no kudos can mean a bunch of people coming back to re-read who have already left kudos, or have switched devices. Which can account for a lot.

[lilibookverse]

✨ Golden: The Royal Merchant Hunt ✨

🌻☀️✨🍯🐝💛🌻☀️✨🍯🐝💛🌻☀️✨🍯🐝💛🌻☀️✨🍯🐝

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☀️ Chapter 3 Previous | Current | Next

⏳ Word Count: 3k

🔗 Read it on Wattpad: in English, and in French

The sweet heat of the sun caressed the pale skin of the young girl, coaxing her out of her sleep like a lover. It warmed her, chasing away the icy echoes of the night — those hollow hours of discomfort she had experienced among all those guests, all those strangers. 

Camilla winced. She hated mornings like this, waking up after another of her father’s social parties. They were nothing more than glittering facades to stockpile allies, probe enemies, and keep Hugo Laurent one step ahead in his power and mind games. They drained her, these nights, filled with shallow conversations and hollow gestures.

She despised the way her father used people like chess pieces, each event meticulously calculated to expand his influence. 

She could predict the routine of these gatherings with nauseating precision. 

First, the whisper of an “exclusive” party would spread, though in truth, there was nothing intimate about it. Her father, as a lawyer, had mastered at playing on the vanity of the upper class. He knew well that exclusivity was the golden bait. 

Andrew would then be tasked with assembling everything — lavish decorations, staff bustling about like invisible hands, each detail designed to outdo the last soirée. And at last, her family would make their grand entrance: the perfect tableau of unity, all smiles and grace for an audience who had no idea of the fractures beneath the surface. 

“Camilla?” Andrew’s voice, gentle yet firm, broke through the silence. She groaned, pulling the covers tighter.

“Yes?” She mumbled, praying he would leave her be, though deep down, she knew better. He never left without her. Not until she was presentable and ready to join her father at the breakfast table, another part of the routine.

“Your dad is waiting for you downstairs.” 

Of course, he was. Her father expected nothing less than perfection.

“Tell him I’ll be down in a second!” She tried, the sweetness in her voice thin as ice, hoping to buy herself a few more minutes of peace.

“Camilla…” Andrew said softly. “He wants you to join him now.” A sigh of defeat escaped her lips.

“Fine, fine! Give me two seconds to put something decent on.” She heard Andrew’s faint chuckle through the door. 

“Sure.”

The sunlight, still harsh and bright, spilled into the room as she yanked the curtains open, flooding the space with a blinding warmth. It was too much, too fast — like everything in her life these days. 

She dragged herself towards the wardrobe, choosing a light-green floral dress that clung to her chest but flared out at the waist, soft and free. It was a small rebellion, something light and airy in a world that felt suffocating. 

She slipped on her white tennis shoes and tied her hair into a high ponytail, the strands of her ginger locks defying the neatness of her effort. Andrew was waiting by the door when she opened it, his face calm, patient.

“You didn’t have to wait.” She teased half-heartedly; her voice touched with affection. “You know how much he hates it when I’m late.”

“The rules are the rules, Mademoiselle.” Andrew quipped, a twinkle in his eye.

His voice was joking, but Camilla knew there was always an edge of truth to the formalities the old man adhered to. She smiled, faint but genuine.

Andrew had always been more than a servant to her. He had been there when her father was not — helping her with homework, playing with her in the quiet corners of the house when the world forgot she existed. In his eyes, he could still see the little girl she once was. He had been her anchor in a home that no longer felt like hers. 

When she walked into the dining room, her father barely glanced up from his newspaper.

“Ma fille, you look beautiful.” He commented offhandedly, his eyes still scanning the headlines. 

Camilla nodded, not bothering to respond. Her father’s praise felt hollow, a scripted line from a play they both knew too well; and she did not care to act her part this morning.

“Father, I was wondering… Now that school’s over and you don’t seem to need me today, would you mind if I went out with T’?” Her voice was syrupy sweet, a practiced tone she used when she needed something from him. 

Hugo looked up, a flicker of something — hurt, maybe — crossing his face before it was swallowed by indifference.

“Do as you wish.” He said briskly, standing up and leaving for his office, his sancturay.

The exchange was cold, polite, like strangers passing on the street.

The man she once called ‘Papa’ had disappeared two years ago, swallowed by grief and denial. He had buried their shared pain with their loss, refused to acknowledge it, refused to acknowledge her. 

The silence between them was suffocating. She did not blame him — at least, she told herself that she did not. But it hurt. More than she ever allowed herself to admit. Her throat tightened with the weight of unshed tears, memories clawing at her chest, but she swallowed them down. 

Not today. She had gotten good at locking those feelings away. She downed her orange juice and fled the dining room, out the door, where Topper’s familiar voice greeted her.

“Hey, I thought you’d never show.” He grinned.

“Still a morning person, I see?” Kelce teased, his voice dripping with sarcasm, but his smile was playful.

“Haha, hilarious, Kelce.” She retorted, rolling her eyes but feeling the warmth of their easy banter soothe the ache in her chest.

“You know what Topper, I’m pretty sure we should not take her with us… This girl is too condescending… Plus I kinda hate her…”

“Oh, shut up, we all know you love me!”

These boys, her friends — they were her escape. A distraction from the emptiness of home. 

She opened the backseat door, revealing Rafe and Sarah. She got in, and Topper took off to the golf court.

“So, T’, you hate me that much?” Camilla asked her cousin while placing her head in between the two front seats, patting the boys shoulder. “I mean putting me in the no-man’s land… Huh?”

“Oh, come on they didn’t even argue yet…” Kelce said, pushing her back in her sit while she stuck her tongue out at him.

The banter between them filled the remaining car ride to the golf course, the tension of the morning lifting as they all settled into the familiar rhythm of laughter and teasing. Even Rafe, with his brooding energy, managed to coax a smile from her as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, planting a kiss on her cheek. It was fleeting, a rare softness from him that made her heart flutter, but she quickly brushed it off.

When they arrived at the golf course, the boys were already eager to get into their game, while she and Sarah lagged behind, chatting idly about nothing and everything. The subject of Rafe inevitably came up, and Camilla found herself smiling despite herself.

“So, my brother huh? You like him? I mean you certainly do since you two are pretty close…” Sarah asked curiously. 

“I mean he is cute and quite nice with me…” The blond girl started to laugh when Camilla added, “In a Rafe way… I mean I’ve never seen him smile or be nice… He is always so tensed.”

“Tell me about it… I live with the boy. 24/7. I swear that’s the worst torment God could have afflicted me!”

“Okay… Look. I know he is a dick, most of the time. I mean I had my fair share of it… But I don’t know, when he is with me, he’s different. Softer. Like he leaves all the anger behind.” Sarah raised an eyebrow, her laughter a soft burst.

“Soften? My brother? Are we talking about the same Rafe?” Camilla’s smile faltered, just for a moment.

Maybe she was imagining it to make it all softer on her. Maybe the version of Rafe she saw — the one who let his guard down, who smiled, who was not so damn hard all the time — was not real. But then again, was not that her entire life? The illusion of something that used to be, something that never really was? 

The day passed in laughter and fleeting moments of joy.

Soon, lunch time came, and the little group walked towards the country club’s restaurant in order to eat. They laughed; making memories at times they were happy in order to remember them when they were really down. They then took Topper’s new boat out and went on a little cruise on the marsh.

The boat ride, the wind, the water — it all felt like a glimpse of freedom. For a little while, the weight of her world lifted, and she was just Camilla again, not Hugo Laurent’s daughter, not the broken girl everyone thought they knew.

“Okay, okay! Boys! Listen up!” Camilla said over the group of boys who were loudly singing, alcohol running in their veins. “What do you think about, we get to my house, take my brother’s boards and go surf a little bit? I haven’t been in such a long time!” She asked with a big smile when she got the attention of the group.

“I would be down but at this time those Pogues are gonna be there.” Kelce said with a disgusted smile.

“So? Are you really gonna deprive yourself from a very good time with your friends just because some other people on the beach? Come on Kelce… You are a strong Kook as you always say!” Camilla tried to reason the boys, hating the words that were coming out of her mouth.

“Yeah, she is right boys.” Rafe agreed.

“That would be cool, but I can’t tonight…” Sarah said. “Scarlett invited me to come over to her house…”

“Sarah, babe, come with us…” Topper pleaded.

“Hey T’ stop being a simp! I think you will survive without her…” Camilla gently mocked him. “We’ll drop you off on the way there!” She then said turning to the blond girl.

They did as they said, and in a blink of an eye, they were at the beach, taking their clothes off, just to leave them in their swimsuit, getting ready to hit the waves.

As they neared the water, the familiar sight of the Pogues made her stomach churn. She knew what was coming. The boys would pick a fight, the tension would spike, and she would be caught in the middle, like always.

But she wanted to come here, she had not surfed in a very so long, she was not going to let them distract her and ruin her happiness. She deserved it. After all the bad times she had spent the past two years, dealing with the emptiness her broken family had left, she deserved to spend some good moments, to make some new happy memories, just like she did in the afternoon.

When JJ cracked a joke at her expense, she barely flinched. But something in the way he smiled, that cocky grin of his — there was something beneath it. Something familiar. She hated how she noticed it. How even when he mocked her, his words still left a twinge in her chest, a strange mix of hurt and something else — something that made her breath catch for just a moment.

“Gotta admit, Laurent, you look a little lost here. Still tagging along with your trust-fund boys?” JJ’s voice was playful, as he shouted from his board, but there was a spark in his eyes, a challenge.

Camilla shot back a biting reply, her tone sharp as ever, but her voice wavered slightly, as she walked into the ocean, to meet with her friends who were already floating in the waves.

Their gazes locked for just a second too long. There was heat in that look, something unresolved, and though she quickly buried it, her heart stuttered in response. She pushed the feeling aside. It was ridiculous. JJ Maybank was nothing but trouble. Rafe’s arm snaked around her shoulder, pulling her back to the present.

“You’re not worth it.” He sneered at JJ, his anger palpable as he squared up to the blond Pogue, the tension thickening between them.

But instead of retaliating, JJ simply smirked. 

His blue eyes lingered on Camilla, just for a moment — a moment that felt like a spark in a room full of gasoline. She caught it, that subtle shift in his gaze, and for the briefest second, something flickered between them. She did not know what it was — did not want to know. It made her stomach twist in a way that confused her. 

She looked away quickly, not willing to confront whatever that feeling was. 

And as the tension between Rafe and JJ was about to escalate further, Kiara’s voice cut through the moment, sharp as a blade.

“Are you kidding me? What happened to the girl who always avoided fights?” Camilla met Kiara’s gaze, feeling a pang of the old Camilla stirring beneath the surface — the version of herself who used to avoid conflict, who stayed in the shadows of the chaos around her. 

But that girl was fading fast, leaving behind someone who no longer cared to play the peacekeeper. The part of her that still longed for an escape, for something more, struggled against the new reality she’d resigned herself to. She didn’t answer Kiara.

Instead, she turned away, biting back the words gnawing at her insides. She hated the constant tug-of-war within her — the Camilla who wanted to run and the Camilla who had chosen to stay. 

“I didn’t even know she was back…” Kiara said, her face betraying confusion, as she walked the group of Kook laughing in the distance.

“Yeah… She arrived yesterday.” JJ replied nonchalantly, his focus shifting toward the wave building in the distance.

“How come he knows that?” Kiara pressed, raising an eyebrow at the surprising piece of information.

“His dad hired him to work for them.” Pope explained, watching JJ ride the next wave with ease. “Said he didn’t care who he worked for as long as the money was good.”

“Of course, he doesn’t care.” John B chimed in, rolling his eyes as he recalled the conversation they had earlier.

“Wow, that asshole almost hit me on a wave!” JJ complained, paddling back toward them.

“Probably wanted to make some space for his girlfriend.” Pope teased, nodding toward Camilla as she caught a wave of her own, her body gracefully balancing on the board.

Camilla took the wave with practiced ease, her body moving like she was born to surf. But just as she neared the shore, her foot slipped. She tumbled into the water with a splash.

A second later, she emerged, laughter bursting from her in a way that felt contagious, her face glowing with a huge, carefree smile. The wind tousled her hair as she wiped the water from her face. She missed this — the feeling of the sea against her skin, the rush of the waves beneath her board. There was nothing like it.

For a brief moment, she was free, unburdened by everything else weighing her down.

“I don’t like her, but I gotta admit, she’s really good at surfing.” Kiara conceded, crossing her arms as she watched Camilla from the shore.

“Not only at surfing…” JJ quipped with a mischievous grin, the words rolling off his tongue before he could stop himself.

“Oh my god, JJ,” Kiara groaned, smacking his arm. “I could’ve gone my whole life without hearing that.”

As she turned away, her friends chuckled, but JJ’s eyes lingered on Camilla for just a moment longer. 

There was something different about seeing her like this, out of the gilded cage of the Kook world, laughing without a care in the world. He did not know what it was, but something about her today gnawed at the edges of his thoughts.

The Kooks started heading back to the beach, their laughter trailing in the wind, but even as the distance grew, Camilla felt JJ’s gaze, like a shadow she could not shake. 

She told herself it did not matter — that she did not care. But the lie tasted bitter on her tongue. As she climbed back into the car with Rafe and the others, she could not shake the feeling that something had shifted. Something subtle, but real. 

JJ’s voice lingered in her mind, his teasing words intertwining with that look he’d given her—a look she wasn’t ready to think about just yet.

The car ride was quiet, Camilla lost in thought. She dropped her friends off one by one before heading home, the energy of the day still buzzing around her, but fading with each mile. 

As she unlocked her front door, her father gave her a confused look. 

“Everything okay?” 

“Yeah, just tired.” She muttered, walking straight to the kitchen to grab a water bottle. 

The house felt too still, a sharp contrast to the excitement and tension of earlier. She slipped upstairs and closed the door behind her. Sinking onto the edge of her bed, she buried her face in her hands. 

Today had been amazing — she had laughed, surfed, and felt truly alive. But then there was him — JJ. His teasing, his lingering gaze, the way he seemed to read her without speaking — it was too much. She did not understand why it drained her so completely, why he left her feeling raw, exposed. 

Maybe it was how he effortlessly crossed that line between playful and something deeper, something she was not ready to face, something she would never be allowed to face. 

She threw herself back onto the mattress, staring at the ceiling. Her mind replayed fragments of the afternoon at the beach — the jokes, the fleeting touches of an eye. She did not know how to feel about it anymore. 

All she knew was that something about JJ had sucked the joy out of her night, leaving her feeling unsteady, unsure. With a deep sigh, she closed her eyes, trying to think of a way to shake it off, but her exhaustion won. She drifted off, the weight of the day pressing down on her.

🌻☀️✨🍯🐝💛🌻☀️✨🍯🐝💛🌻☀️✨🍯🐝💛🌻☀️✨🍯🐝

📢 Taglist: @lomahdu @gaborane @dellslibary @h3r-h3arts-with-obx

🌻 Reblog & share if you enjoy! Your support means the world!

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✦ Written by: @lilibookverse ✦ All rights reserved – do not copy, repost, or claim as your own

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