#yall dont mind the grammarly..

[tojis-gf]

How do you do the gradient text in your pinned post? It’s really cute and I have no idea how to do it 🫠💕

hi anon!!! okie so im gonna try to be as thorough as possible, dis is really ez too btw (if on mobile, you may have to use browser mode)

so first, i use dis website right here

n pretty much, what u do is paste or type whatever txt u want here:

n then choose which kind of gradient u want, i typically do horizontal but its totally up to preference : ) then u pick ur colors using the hexcodes (if u tryna create like a certain palette from an image, use dis website click dis), and font for me i dont usually change, if i do its usually arial, i change the size tho depending on how big/important the txt is ! and for bold/italic, thats something u can always edit using the tumblr editor like how u would normally bold and italicize any other txt : )

okie so i picked my colors n stuff n now what ur gonna wanna do is copy the html code (bottom box) if u wanna make the bottom box bigger, just drag the bottom right corner out : )

next thing ur gonna wanna do is go to tumblr n go to whatever post/create a new post and click the gear in the top right hand corner of da post n then scroll all the way down to the bottom and change rich text -> html.

so for this one, bc i'm doing a header for this ex, between the h1s, im just gonna paste the html txt from the gradient website. n honestly, if u wanna paste the text after the header, or u dont want a header txt at all u can just copy the html code into the html editor and it should be fine !

and this should be ur end result ! (i made the txt smaller in tumblr editor lol

[lilmissasap]

agape- nicholas britell

summary: miles is takin down ur braids 

published: july 27, 2023

warnings: Grammarly hates me, the patriarchy, a dash of toxic masculinity, miles being a product of that grrah grah boom type masculinity, aave (no im not translating shit for you yall got access to urban dictionary and its not really a warning), i edited it myself so lmk if there are any mistakes

sueñito- little dream, bonito- handsome/ pretty boy, no me importa- i don't care/ it's not important to me

w/c: 1.5 k

reader's black coded cus im black so deal w it <3

i think this something every black boy be needin deep down

“Stop movin, ma” 

“It’s knotty,” 

“You had these in for how long?” 

Silence. 

“There's your answer right there, mama,”  

“Sorry,” 

“Nun to be sorry for, just hold still,” 

Currently sitting on the bathroom floor criss-cross apple sauce, Miles was sitting on the toilet, your head between his knees, while he was taking down the frizzy lemonade braids that barely hugged your scalp anymore. 

“Miles?” 

He hums in response, rat tail comb in one hand, a tub of coconut oil in the other, threading the tail of the comb through the extensions down your back  

“You’re the prettiest boy in all of Brooklyn,” 

“Shut up” 

“Prettiest boy I’ve ever seen,” 

“Nuh-uh,” 

“Fuck you mean ‘nuh uh’? The little freckles all over your cheeks? Cutest things I’ve ever seen, especially how they’re all slightly different shades, like lil polka dots all over your face, gives me a map a’ where to kiss. The little tiny dimple on the left side of your face? Adorable, 10/10, no notes. Also very kissable." He's still now, staring at the back of your head, using bundles strewn over his shoulder, mouth agape. “Them thick and long ass eyelashes? I could stare at ‘em all day, they look like teeny tiny butterfly wings when you rest your eyes.” 

“Shut up,” he whispers, still unmoving, the little dab of coconut oil on his fingers slowly dribbling down his wrist 

“Your mind pretty as hell, too, I like listening to what you have to hear when you let me,” you mumble, pressing tiny kisses into his cargo pant–clad kneecap. 

“Stop doin that shit, ma” 

“What?” 

“Talkin all crazy like that,” 

“I’m not talkin crazy, miles I’m being honest,” 

“You makin me out to be some weak ass lil boy,” 

“Miles.” you turn around abruptly, staring at him dead in the eye. “I’m jus being honest wit you. What's going on?” 

“It’s nothin, ma, turn around”  

“Sueñito. Lemme know what's up,” 

“It’s nothin,” 

You huff, turning around to face the bottom of the sink again. Silence bellows throughout the bathroom, Miles rubbing oil on your braids to detangle them to later drag the comb in once again and throw the discarded hair extension over his shoulder. The only sound between the two of you is the Marvin Gaye spinning on the record player, rooms away, dull basslines thrumming through the apartment. 

“Ion like this,” 

“What?” 

“Whatever jus happened, we talk about what's bothering us,” 

“Ain't nothin botherin me, ma,” 

“Then why you start buggin' the second I get to complimenting you?” 

“Cus ian wit all that girly shit,” 

“Fuck you mean girly shit, I’m jus tryna love up on you Miles,” your nostrils flare as you stare ahead of you.  

“Baby, I’m all for that but–” 

“Miles, did someone tell you boys can't get that?” 

A silence. 

“Baby.” 

“What?” 

“Jus cus you a boy dont mean you don't deserve love,” 

“Aint nobody say allat–” 

“Shut up Ian done,” you say, swiftly turning around and snagging the oil and comb from his hand “jus cus you a boy doesn't mean you don't deserve to feel shit miles. Ion know what it was like wit your last girl, but Ian her. Okay? You allowed to be a person wimme, you know that right?” 

“Ma–” 

“Shut up I still ain't done yet. Miles I’m real, I’m right here. real like you, I promise you I’m not goin nowhere right now,” 

“You done?” 

“Yeah,”  

“C’mere,” he motions to his lap, taking the comb and oil out of your hands and setting them on the tiled floor, laying out the discarded bundles.  

“ ‘s oil all up on my hands” 

“No me importa ma, come up on here,”  

Obeying and wiping the excess coconut oil off your hand, you do. Straddling his lap, and looking into his eyes, examining the twinge of sadness in his eyes. 

“Talk to me, mama,” 

“I want you to know that you deserve love and that you’re allowed to feel some typa way. I want you to talk to me, Miles. I care about you so much and I wanna make sure you’re good. I love hearing you talk, but Ion like havin to beg you to talk to me. I love jus bein in your presence, but I hate feelin like that Miles. I don’t know who told you whatever's going through your head right now but they dead wrong. I wanna know how you be feelin, I wanna know.” 

“Why you even talk like this to me?” 

“Cus I’m your girl, n I like to kiss up on you and love all up on you,” 

At this, he averts his eyes, trying to escape your gaze, his breath audibly speeding up. 

“Mm mm, don't do that Miles. Please breathe,” 

You plead, subconsciously pressing your middle three fingers under his jaw trying to measure his heart rate. Almost as a reflex to hide from you, he shrugs your hand away from under his jaw and pulls his hoodie over his mouth.

“Nah nah, don't hide from me neither,”  

“Ain’t nobody hidin from you,” 

“Jus cus you a boy don’t mean you don't deserve them random ass cuddles, or someone to tie up your durag or wash your hair. It don’t mean you shouldn't get flowers or hugs or them lil hickies behind your ear. Don't mean you not allowed to be sad or mad or wanna cry. Now Ion know who told you or made you feel that way but they dead wrong Miles. You allowed to feel with me,” 

“Ian some lil boy runnin around though, that shit ain't for me,” 

“If you wasn't supposed to feel and acknowledge your feelings, why would you be able to feel them? They there for a reason,” 

Still straddled on his lap, he looks up at you with the tiny leverage you have on him. His eyes are big and doe-like, almost as if he’s scared to make this next step, say this next sentence.” 

“Ion know why,” he mumbles, voice soft and scared. suddenly he’s kissin up on you, gripping anything he can get his hands on, like he’s making up for lost time, lost feelings. It's urgent and a little rough, though his lips are soft and velvety, a twinge of menthol chapstick on them.  

“Yo yo yo, slow down. Ian goin nowhere” you whisper into his mouth, nails gently raking across his neck “ ‘m right here Miles, see?” you ask, guiding his hands to feel on the left side of your chest, right above your heart. “ ‘s my heart under there, I'm right here okay? I’m real, Miles I swear,” 

“You’re real?” he whispers, breath shaky and uneven fisting the thin fabric of your camisole under the evergreen zip-up, in an attempt to feel more of your heart. 

“You allowed to feel your feelings the same way you feel my heart,” 

He still looks astonished, scared, and frozen. suddenly it wasn’t him you were talking to anymore. it was the scared little Brooklyn boy who had all these feelings stored away inside him, unsure of what to do or who to show them to.  

“ ‘m sitting right here miles. I’m your girl, okay? This is real, and you are real,” 

“I’m real?” tears begin to swim in his eyes. 

“You’re real miles. and those feelings in that big heart of yours? Those are real too. And if you let me, I wanna hear all of 'em.”  

His body stills once more against you, a small tear gliding down his cheek. 

“I love you,” 

And then he’s sobbing. 

“Sshh, hey it's okay” you whisper, holding him close to your chest. “I love you so much I can’t hardly breathe when I'm around you. It’s okay and you're okay, Miles. I’m real and this is real and you. You are real.” you mumble into his braids, holding him with the protectiveness of a mother with a small child. 

He just sat there, his head buried in your chest as he cried quietly, letting everything out. You just sat and let him cry and vent through his tears. All the things he had bottled up, discouraged to show to anyone. Sooner or later the tears slow to a stop, his face puffy and hot. 

Gently tugging the ends of his braids, he looks up at you. 

“You feel better sueñito?” you ask, dragging the cuff of your sweater to dry his face and pressing butterfly kisses to his cheeks in its wake. He did nothing but nod lazily, seemingly lighter, and nuzzling his face into your chest. 

“Lemme finish wiping up your face n then you can be all up on me, bonito, okay? 

He just nodded, dropping his head back to rest against the bathroom wall, the half-taken-out braids on your scalp no longer th task at hand. Reaching behind him you grab a baby wipe and swipe the tears and snot off his face, leaving his skin with a glossy finish. Holding his chin up, you look dead in his eyes. 

“You so beautiful Miles.” 

And this time, he nods. 

🩷 reblogs are always appreciated for reach <3

[damnfandomproblems]

7061

Op, you are complaining about peoples writing while typing "cuz" perhaps you should write your complaints with the same standards you place upon hobby fanfiction authors. I am joking, dont worry. Here is my real issue with this post

And I'm not saying this to discourage people from writing. Most of yall should at least be 16 and I know for a fact yall can write better than this. I'm just fucking begging yall to stop putting absolute garbage writing up and to learn how to actually write engaging, immersive stories that people can read without having their soul sucked out. Attend your fucking English&reading class.

let me express to the best of my abilities, why you come across as an arrogant entitled bastard.

most sites require users to be at least 13+ and people can lie about their age. Bold assumption that most people you are speaking about are 16+. grammarly, auto correct and other tools may help younger people in general avoid the misspellings and wordings that may make it obvious they are younger.

People can not only be held back for a year or two in schools missing out on education they are assumed to know but also drop out of school, making it so that their education was limited.

If someone had a hard time by experiencing mistreatment within school, even if they did their best, they may not remember after leaving that class because of the stress they were put under.

Not every english teacher cares about teaching and not everyone will be able to learn in a class setting.

Homeschooling is an option but the quality is all dependent on the parents so still an english class or reading class may not help them or in fact it could be worse if the ones teaching them are also not that well prepared to teach english and literature

People with mental disabilities exist that may make it harder to communicate or to write down and eloquently express the story they have in their mind.

Your only exception was non native speakers but in my humble opinion having a certain standard for hobby literature and artwork with anyone, including native speakers is what kills fandom. Even good artists and authors will stop publishing if they feel it will not neet the standard that others expressed they only want to view.

You come across as entitled to others free time and no author or artist should take your words to heart because you cannot offer the smallest bit of understanding or empathy to peoples potential struggles or the simple fact that...

...Fandom is a hobby...

...not a business and not a career, no one gets paid unless it is legally questionable. Fandom is not a space that should be held to the same standard as commerically produced works.

If you want more higher quality fanfictions, do it yourself instead of spouting shit online to belittle others or pay someone else "But i said i am not trying to discourage-" but your intentions do not matter when everything else shows you are discouraging people and you are being vile to the treatment of hobbyists because you want top tiet commerically produced quality goods for free. You saying that did not make you less discouraging, it just showcased you are unaware of how your words came across and that you are blind to your own faults yet expect others to be held to your standard

I do hope i worded myself as clear and directly as i possibly could. I had to make sure you can read my words without feeling enraged at my grammar and spelling, it may not be immersive but tough shit because my dumbass aint a writer. Just someone who reads fanfictions and appreciates those who put time and effort publishing free fanfics

Posting as a response to a previous problem.

[tuzesdays]

17. Talk to me about the minutiae of your current WIP. Tell me about the lore, the history, the detail, the things that won’t make it in the text.

(This can also be in dms :3)

its 3am and someone just set off two fireworks directly outside my home so hi andy good morning lets talk dayshift

so i use grammarly and basic spelling correct to edit, right? what yall dont see, that i do, is before every chapter i plug everything into the text box and let grammarly go at it - usually this ends up with.... id say the average number of corrections it suggests is around 70. and every time, i go thru the whole thing checking every correction because man, grammarly does NOT know how real people talk. theres a certain cadence to verbal speech yknow? something i try to emulate in my regular texting style, but in a properly formatted story its different (not harder or easier, different) because while you cant capitalize random words for Emphasis, you CAN do a whole bunch of other stuff: dashes, sentence breaks, i especially like to split a chunk of dialogue in half with a described action. maybe not every misspelling is intentional, but all the words are.

and some of the stuff i thought about is NEVER - or at least UNLIKELY to be - coming up in the story!! for instance, i dont do things like flashbacks. what you see of the characters background and experiences either comes from what they say or what their actions imply. sunbite gives the benefit of internal dialogue and memory, but its a yn fic so even thats spotty sometimes.

people who just read the fic would Never Know that sunbites blood relation father only ever saw them once. and i also dont include things that wouldnt be apparent to the characters- it has no effect on them, how would they ever know? how would sunbite ever know that they have a little sibling, possibly more than one? how would you ever know that obi's "heirlooms" from his grandmother included another ring passed down maternally for the last five generations with a decent sized sapphire on it? would you know that sunbite loves dogs because their first imaginary friend was one, and they named him Lucky? this stuff has no effect of them now, practically forgotten about. but its there cause i say it is.

storytelling is fucking Wild, dude. of course i took some inspiration from bamsara and naffeclipse (god damn at this point what dca writer hasnt a little bit) but also im pretty proud of my 'do no harm, take no shit' yn. it was always gonna be them, theyre the only person for the job in my mind. the way ive structured things and the way things are going to go, only people with that attitude - and that unkillable amount of hope and love - would be able to make it all the way through. maybe thats not the easiest character to project onto, but hey, its more a personal thing. dayshift go figure is, among other things, a power fantasy.

anyway, took the oppurtunity to ramble, its 3am. tldr; i put a lot of thought into word usage and character history, and most of those thoughts arent important to anyone but me.