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autistichalsin · 21 hours

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A fic writer's guide to leaving comments

I'm sure you've seen posts from fic writers expressing dismay at the death of feedback culture, and especially lamenting the phenomenon of people making private Discord servers to share fic recs, so that instead of having a chance to stumble on nice comments in the wild on Tumblr, Twitter, etc, fic writers are increasingly less likely to see good comments left about their work.

I also see the comments on those same posts flooded with people with concerns about commenting, so I am writing this as a guide for those new or unsure.

Firstly: some of you are probably asking, "why do fanfic writers need feedback at all? Shouldn't they be writing just for themselves?"

Well... No. Not really. People can and should create things for themself, yes, but that doesn't mean "continue to post content when no one seems to be engaging." Imagine cooking for someone who eats in utter silence and never says a single word about the meal. Imagine putting on a concert and receiving not a single applause, a cheer, nothing at all. It sounds utterly horrifying, doesn't it? Maybe even humiliating?

Writing for oneself means that positive reviews shouldn't be the sole factor in deciding whether to write/post/continue a story, not that a writer should feel obligated to write thousands of words for a story no one really reacts to in any way, especially when the writer sees creators of similar content (edits, fanarts, fanvids, fansongs, etc) get praised effusively for their work without this expectation being placed on them. It is very rare that artists are told they should draw for themselves the way fic writers are.

Further, and this may be a hot take, but I actually don't think it's inherently wrong to make positive reviews the main or even sole reason for writing or making art to begin with. People like being praised for things they do well. It's one of the most basic parts of human psychology. Human beings want to be praised, encouraged, validated, and celebrated sometimes; why do you think we celebrate birthdays? It's not egotistical. It might, perhaps, be setting oneself up for disappointment, but there's nothing inherently wrong with it, anyway.

Basically, all that to say: it's nice to tip your Uber drivers and baristas. It's nice to thank/compliment your spouse when they make you dinner. And it's nice to thank fan artists and fanfic writers when they make arts/fics that you enjoy.

Moving on: I also know some of you have some specific things you worry or are confused about, and those things might be stopping you from leaving feedback. So here is an FAQ of sorts:

Q: What if the story has a lot of chapters/the author has written many stories? Won't it be weird to go and leave so many comments on them?

A: You definitely can review only the latest chapter/fic and future installments if you so choose, but for the record, fanfics aren't like Instagram/Facebook; mass-commenting and kudosing old stories and chapters isn't seen as stalkerish. It's seen as a sign you're enjoying the content we made. Think of it this way: if a new Star Wars came out, and you were new to Star Wars, it would only make sense for you to go and watch (and post about) the previous movies, right?

Q: What if I don't know what to say?

A: That's perfectly okay! I have a guide at the bottom of this post if you need some ideas. But honestly, writers would rather a single ♥️ than nothing at all, so if you really can't think of anything, that's a good last resort.

Q: I'm afraid of saying the wrong thing and upsetting the writer.

A: There is almost no chance that you will say the wrong thing, unless you are giving unasked-for criticism (see below).

Q: What if I don't like the fic? Should I still comment?

A: No, it's definitely better to silently move on when you didn't enjoy it at all.

Note that while in the past, giving criticism was common practice, this has generally become less of something authors enjoy over time (perhaps tied in with the general lack of feedback; getting fewer comments in general can make it far more frustrating to get critical ones). If you are close to the writer, or if the criticism is just a SPAG issue, you can try asking the writer if they'd like to hear it, but otherwise, leave it be unless the author has indicated somewhere they're open to it. But please be nice. Anything you wouldn't say to an artist, don't do to a writer, please.

Q: In the past, I commented and the writer got mad at me.

A: If you weren't leaving unasked-for criticism, then likely the problem was that particular author. Don't let it deter you from commenting on others. Every group of people has assholes, including writers.

Q: I saw an author who requested no comments on their fic/turned off comments on their fic.

A: Not every writer ultimately DOES want comments, though the majority do. Likely that person was having anxiety, or had recently been harassed/received rude comments and didn't want to bother with it.

Q: An author limited comments to registered users only.

A: See above; likely they did this either as a harassment mitigation member or to prevent minors from reading their fics, especially if it was an NSFW work.

Q: I saw a note that a writer had "enabled comment moderation" on their story. Does that mean they don't want me to comment?

A: Not at all! It means they likely have been harassed/received rude comments, or have reason to fear they will (I.E. have recently posted a story dealing controversial themes, or have received such comments on other sites), and are activating a setting where you can comment, but they need to manually approve the comment before it shows up, which will prevent nasty comments from being read. In these cases, a nice comment might actually mean even more to them, because it shows they have support- so by all means, show them some extra love!

Q: Are there any cases where I shouldn't comment?

A: Yes, but these are mostly individual cases, not a hard rule. In addition to the circumstances listed above (author preference or leaving a negative comment), please do not comment if you are a minor and the fic is rated higher than teen (you shouldn't be reading these to begin with, but if you are, please don't make it obvious you did so), or conversely, if you write higher-than-teen-rated fics and the fic is written by a minor. Also, if the author has blocked you on other platforms, do not comment, as this is block evasion.

Q: Is it okay to comment just to ask for an update/to prompt another fic?

A: It depends largely on context, tone, etc. "I hope this updates soon" is 100% fine. Guilt trippy messages, like "it's been two years, I know you have been going through a lot but you have an obligation to your readers" are NEVER okay. Similarly, with prompts, saying "I hope you explore (thing) one day" is fine, especially if you know the author, but if your first comment to them ever is requesting a fic for a completely different scenario, ship, etc than they wrote, with little or nothing about the actual fic you're replying to, it will come across as rude.

Q: Is it okay to ask an author for permission to translate the fic into another language or make another derivative work?

A: Absolutely, but not every author will want this to be done, and you need to be prepared to respect their no if they give one. Think of it like asking a restaurant for one of their recipes. Some will happily give it out, others consider it a personal/guarded secret.

That said, do not even dare ask about feeding the work to an AI. Fanfic writers DO NOT want AI touching their work. Same for artists. Yes, this includes trying to make an ending for an abandoned fic. Do not do it.

Q: The author of this fic has held their story "hostage" by refusing to update until they get a certain number of reviews. What should I do?

A: This is a hard one. Of course, no one owes an author reviews, and this sort of thing is considered cringey, and endlessly mocked, for a reason. However, please try to do some perspective-taking and practicing empathy here. Authors are having to put out PSAs on this site and others just to try and get people to engage with their content. Imagine being a musician, getting on stage, performing song after song, and being met with silence, or maybe a single courtesy golf clap here or there. You'd start to doubt yourself, wouldn't you? You might feel inclined to stop playing unless you start getting an indication people actually care about your music, because performing to utter silence is absolutely humiliating. The manner of doing so is all wrong in this case, but try to show a bit of compassion, and imagine how awful, how utterly crushed the author must have been to do this in the first place.

It is definitely your right to not engage with the fic/author anymore, especially if you had been reviewing before the fic got taken 'hostage' and felt the author wasn't grateful for your comments. But if you wanted to be especially kind, you could take some time to try and lift the author up instead, and show them that even if others are not leaving comments, the fic ultimately does mean something to you. It just might be enough for the author to rethink their position.

Q: Why isn't a kudos enough?

A: It's not that a kudos isn't enough, per se: we all enjoy getting likes. But to continue my metaphor above, well... when you perform music, a cheer does feel very different than a courtesy golf clap, you know? You appreciate the golf claps, they are very kind and always welcome, but cheers, "YEAH!"s, and such are what you really live for. And a standing ovation? That could literally change your entire opinion on your art.

Q: I want to leave a comment, but I'm really scared/don't know how/don't know what to say.

A: That's totally okay. Below, I give some ideas of what to say, but keep in mind that if you really don't know what to say, emoji are totally fine! A ♥️ is still really great and will make us smile. Put some keysmashes! Put in just a ton of exclamation points and nothing else! "AHHH OMG!" Those are all perfectly fine!

BUT, if you want to leave something a little more in-depth, here are some great places to start! Trust me, fanfic writers LOVE all of these and would be delighted to get these comments.

ASK QUESTIONS! "Does this mean x?" or "I'm curious, when x said y, is that a sign that z is at play?"

Tell us how you felt while reading the story/chapter. If we made you cry in a particularly sad scene, PLEASE TELL US FOR THE LOVE OF GOD! WE LOVE THAT!

If you are in a Discord or other space that's talking about the story, tell us what you/your mutuals/your friends are saying about it. This is a great idea for if you don't know what to say! Even just a "we never shut up about this fic in the Discord" is wonderful to hear.

Tell us what drew you in to the fic (did you like the summary? Was it recced somewhere?) and what made you stay.

Say something you found unique/intriguing about the fic. Maybe you liked the characterization, or the author did a really good job of setting the scene. Let them know!

Make a personal connection to the text, especially if the author wrote something that felt very real to your lived experience.

YELL IN ALL CAPS THAT YOU WANT TO HURT THE VILLAIN OR HUG THE SUFFERING WOOBIE OR SMACK THE MAIN PAIRING FOR BEING OBLIVIOUS ABOUT THEIR FEELINGS!

If this story has changed something for you, tell us. If it changed how you see a character, made you ship a ship you never thought of before, changed how you see canon, opened your eyes to a societal issue, gave you a line you think about a lot- please tell us!

Indulgently play along with our cliffhangers. Pretend you don't know that the character will be fine. Pretend that we would actually do it and you're SO SCARED RN for this character.

Wanna know a secret? Wanna know a writer's catnip? Want to know an instant way to make a writer print out your comment for motivation to read later? Quote/paraphrase/reference a bit of text that you loved and tell us your exact thoughts and emotions on it, why you loved it, etc. Quote half the damn chapter back at us in the comments and we will probably propose marriage to you on the spot tbh.

Remember, if you truly can't think of anything to say, just a single emoji still does wonders!!

Hope this guide helps! Happy commenting!

#fanfiction #ao3 #archive of our own #fandom #fandom culture #fanfic

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justsomerandom-nerd · 5 months

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I saw a head cannons that maybe Mags knew Mizzen or Coral, but I raise you: her being Mizzens big sister. Her watching the screens with some flint of hope, that maybe just maybe her little brother makes it home. Her watching as Coral takes care of him in the arena, the way she desperately wishes she could.

And then he dies tragically, and she swears she will make his loss mean something.

The next year Snows changes take place, and she becomes one of the first volunteers. There’s more than just her life, there is glory in it. A moment of defiance, a way to bring home something to her district besides loss. A way to honor her brothers memory or go out in a blaze of glory.

And then she wins, but there’s a bitter sense of loss hidden in that victory. She embarks on her victory tour and sees the family’s of the other tributes- some but not all of which she killed. They’re just like her- mourning and empty with the loss of their children, their siblings.

The years go on and others follow in her footsteps. She’s among the first mentors. Most tributes never see home again, but sometimes she manages to bring one home. More kids volunteer as the years go on, the older, stronger ones. But those first couple, she still gets a few too young to stand a chance. Like her brother.

But then the 65th hunger games, she’s been doing it for years. She has a list of suspects in who might volunteer, knowing just how eager some have become for the glory they may bring their district.

He’s one of the youngest volunteers she’s ever seen- 14. His district partner fairs a far better chance, tall and broad shouldered, eighteen and out of school. He’s just a boy. When his hand shoots up, the crowd clears to show this defiant child, who strides forward with an unmistakable since of readiness. Eager, almost it. It sends chills down her spine.

Finnick Odair, destined to die like every other child thrown into the games.

She feels sorry for him. She can see her brothers ghost in his every movement, from the second he enters the arena she is thrown over five decades ago- she’s a girl again, watching her little brother fight for his life.

But against all odds, he wins it. He’s the youngest victor in the history of the games, and he quickly becomes a capitol darling. She’s glad- happy to bring him home. Their bound together from then on, and for once she feels like she has a family again.

Every year, they get on that train with two new kids, hoping one will make it home. Every year, even when one wins, they’re left mourning another fallen tribute.

She gets to watch as he grows up, watch him fall in love with a vicious girl- someone that reminded her of Coral with her pretty red hair and ruthless spirit, desperate to win. She watches as that girl changes to- no longer numb to pain, the horror in her eyes that possesses every tribute once they realize just how real the games are. She watches as that girl- Annie, become unresponsive at the worst possible time. She watches as Finnick uses what little power he has to convince the game makers to flood the arena.

Sometimes she calls him her brothers name- slips he ignores for her sake. And in turn she ignores what he does while their in the capitol- something she stopped having to do along time ago, becoming numb to the sensation of it. She only ever offers him a listening ear.

Sometimes she’s thankful her brother died rather than endure what comes after the games, the cruelties of having to relive it every year with a different set of kids. The horrors of being sold, being an object for purchase. But from time to time, she can’t help but see him in Finnick. She can’t help but see him in every twelve or thirteen year old who goes into the games, no matter their district.

#the hunger games #mags flanagan #finnick odair #mizzen tbosas #tbosas #thg series #I honestly really want to write a fanfic about this #but let me tell you it will be longgggg

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wolfsbanesparks · 8 months

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What's your favorite fic that you'll never post (doesn't necessarily have to have been written)

What an awesome question!

(not me saving this as a draft and thinking I already answered)

Now i don't want to say never, but there are a few story ideas that I've come up with that I love but am hesitant to write/post, mostly because I'm not sure if people would want to read it (and because they would be a little more controversial and I'd rather not deal with people's opinions on that)

One idea that immediately came to mind when I saw this ask that I have plotted out and go back to more often than I want to admit is a Pretty Woman esque AU. Basically the premise would be that Damian Wayne (~18) is struggling with his sexuality (asexual, gay and demiromantic) and decides that the best way to get everyone (friends, family, the press) to stop making sly teasing comments about his love life (or rather lack thereof) would be to get together with someone (a girl in particular because he's working through some things), drag them on a few dates, and maybe figure out why everyone is so obsessed with sex by trying it out himself.

Cue Billy. He's working two jobs and still broke, living in a terrible apartment and trying to scrape enough money together to go to community college. He meets Damian under less than ideal circumstances and finds himself accepting his offer to be his fake girlfriend (because he may be trans but he is willing to wear a dress in exchange for the hefty sum of money Damian was offering--also Damian doesn't initially realize Billy is trans).

Together they have to convince everyone (including the entire Batfamily) that they are an actual couple--which has the unintended consequence of everyone being very concerned about Billy's safety and his penchant for getting into trouble.

Crucially they are both still heroes (unbeknownst to each other) and won't get together in a traditional way (maybe a QPR, but I'm not sure). Also there's just a silly idea that Billy manages to charm everyone, while Damian gets lots of (not necessarily good) dating advice.

It would be a fun exploration of queer identity, gender, relationship expectations, class differences, as well as an excellent way to showcase Billy being badass as himself.

The main thing stopping me from writing/posting it is that it involves a lot more explicit content concerning sex and sexuality (and sex work), and that Billy would be misgendered throughout a good chunk of the story and I know that my usual readers might not be comfortable with that.

#ask me whatever you want y'all #billy batson #damian wayne #my writing #fanfic asks #I want to write this someday but I'm honestly kinda nervous about the reaction I'd get #I feel like if I do write it I have to work up to it #But I have spent an unreasonable amount of time thinking about it #a Pretty Woman AU does come with some ExpectationsTM #But I think it could be really interesting to explore

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kanene-yaaay · 5 months

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Cuddle Time

Kanene's notes: This was supposed to just be posted tomorrow but I got too excited dfghjhgfgh. I am extremaly weak for any fanfic with cuddles and Guapoduo so I decided to get one of my favorite tropes and add some giggly fluff to it. Hope you like!

Warnings: This is a tickle fic. There's a lot of swearing. But besides that, this is purely fluff with a pinch of angsty thoughts that are barely there before going away. Ler!Roier and Ticklish!Cellbit. Around 2.500 words. My spanish is still something I'm trying to improve so pls forgive any grammar mistakes.

[~*~]

Roier was on his lap.

This was a common occurrence, nowadays. Still, it made Cellbit’s heartbeat in a samba rhythm before calming down to a song of safety and happiness every time he thought about it. Feelings which only increased as Roier kept idly playing with his hair and massaging his scalp.

Technically, he knew exactly what his husband was doing. He used the same technique every time the detective got too lost in his enigmas, trying to claw and rip his way into the Federation’s secrets so they could have a tiny chance to escape from this island. First he would come to his office (not the one in Order Theoritas, but the old one because he kept forgetting to move the computer to the new building) and call him to go home, one, two, even three times before giving up and following one of the three usual routes:

1) Going away and doing whatever project he had in mind - usually with Richarlyson, - ending up in their Castle to sleep when he was over.

2) Staying on the coach nearby and sing while going through his albums, both the one with their investigations or the other with their daily lives, pulling Cellbit’s attention from time to time to remember some lost memory while showing him a fun picture of Cellbit’s first day in the island or Foolish shooting Slime in their wedding.

3) Deciding to make this the perfect opportunity to have his own quality cuddle time with his husband. This route usually brought plenty of other options that could consist in: Choosing to drap himself on the other’s shoulders and play with his free hand, talking about any and everything or just keeping the soft silence between them. Or giving him a massage, not without chuckling and throwing pokes of fun in a teasy tune about how the other would absolutely melt with the touch and pretend that he wasn’t fighting to keep his eyes open.

Sometimes, like this one, he would simply sit on his lap and rest his face on the creek of his neck, smiling half amused and half fondly about how Cellbit wouldn’t even comment or blink when he decided to do that, just open his arms and then keep writing or typing when he was comfortable on the new position.

The brazilian couldn’t actually point with precise exaction when each route was chosen every time, especially since others factors played in this like his husband’s feelings, Forever and Felps coming with Roier to help him to pull him out of the dark places of his mind after a bad day of working for the Federation or when Richarlyson would be around, wanting to spend time with him and Cellbit would be too much of a butter heart to actually deny his son anything under the Sun.

(He was doing all of this for them after all.)

Even when he thought he had finally come to find a pattern in Roier’s choices, his love would just come with a new route or decision that would totally throw him off the track and oblige him to reorganize all his thoughts.

But it was okay. He didn’t mind being wrong in this at all. Actually, it was like a domestic, nice puzzle that Cellbit could spend the rest of their lives trying to solve and he just couldn’t wait for when this would be his only worry.

He only was certain on one thing: most of the time Roier preferred to keep the third option for when Cellbit spent too much time on his books and forgot to keep up with simple human things like day and night, sleep schedules and eating. Cellbit was actually grateful that, even so, his husband would still keep trying to quietly convince him to let go of his enigmas with soft touches, some jokes, distracting kisses and complaints until the other finally caved and went home with him than Roier actively coming and physically pulling him out of his chair to rest.

Even if the idea of being carried in his strong arms, toned with muscles and strength, would sometimes make his brain and face fry, both knew that his investigation was way too important and his mind too set in find a solution for him to try to rest even when papers and books and photos weren’t in front of him. This action would just make both of their frustration grow when his thoughts wouldn’t just shut off and Roier wouldn't get to rest as well.

So, they played this game.

Roier pretended that each one of his moves were just him enjoying some quality time with his husband and not a plan to lovely break his resolve bit by bit until he went to eat and sleep and Cellbit pretended that he wasn’t, piece by piece, archiving a few good leads to follow on the next days and finishing his thoughts with the ones he already had in hand as yawns crept their way up his throat with each minute of the snuggle.

Right now the mexican was rubbing his back, changing from feeling the goosebumps following his fingertips when they lightly traced the skin to listening to his small (barely even audibles if he wasn’t so close) appreciative hums when he firmly pressed his thumbs in circles on his shoulders, following the path to his neck and going back before re-starting his circle.

(...)

It’s been a couple of hours since Roier first appeared and demanded cuddles - determined to make his husband get out of his office this night after spending the last three days there, - until he finally stopped listening to the typing of his computer. He turned his head from its resting place on the other’s shoulders, watching as Cellbit pinched the bridge of his nose with a tired, frustrated expression on his face.

Trying to know anything about their current prison was a painfully slow and exhausting process. It was no news to watch the shadows under his husband’s eyes get darker and darker as each answer brought other 4 new questions. Sometimes, Cellbit would confess in the sleepless nights, he came out of his investigations feeling much emptier than when he started, sensing his hope starting to give out to desperation.

And how could Roier let him shimmer in those thoughts under his supervision?

He turned around and kissed his chin, hands slowly creeping up to his sides, laying there for comfort and warmth as Cellbit twitched instinctively, sighed and opened a tiny smile at the other, letting his hand fall on Roier’s arm and rubbing circles there, still staring at the computer.

“Terminó? (Did you finish?) Did you already…” he then began typing idly on the back of the chair, pretending to be the detective “....hacked la Federacion?” (the Federation?)

“Uh hm, uh hum.” Cellbit immediately jumped on his silliness, also typing quickly and senselessly on his computer before doing a lower, grave voice full of glitching. “I’m in.”

“Apoco si, pendejo.” (Sure, stupid.)

“É verdade, é verdade. It’s true. I called a boat to come get us all of this, it must be getting close.”

“Si, si. Ya están en Vergiça, cabrón.” (Yes, yes. They’re already got on Dickland, idiot.)

“Oh, did you find them when you went there?”

“En portugués, Cellbit, en portugués.” (In portuguese, Cellbit, in portuguese.)

The brazilian let out a fond snicker, rolling his eyes, trying but not succeeding to hide how much happy it made him that the other was making a true effort to learn his language just as much as he tried to learn spanish.

“Ok, ok. Você encontrou com eles quando foi pra lá?”

“No, no, no. No pude ir porqué (I couldn’t go because) mi pepee is very small.”

Cellbit couldn’t stop the crackle that was fished from his throat at this, hand lightly hitting his tabletop and coming to hide his eyes, losing their battle of keeping a serious face as the conversation grew more and more foolish and they went deeper and deeper in the joke.

Roier smiled. He missed hearing that freeing sound. Even though Cellbit got much more relaxed and happy around him, it was easier to see that, since Jaiden’s mission in that giant dungeon, he had been much more stressed and on edge.

That is why he couldn’t help but immediately reflect the joy in his husband’s face as his laughter took turns in being totally quiet or having high pitched sounds. It was adorable.

Also, it gave him a very good idea.

He absently adjusted his hold on the other’s waist, glad that his smirk was hidden due their position.

“Que te ries, cabrón, eh? Que te ries?” (What are you laughing at, huh, idiot? What are you laughing at?) He threw the bait, already knowing what the other would say.

“Nothing, nothing.” Suddenly a squeal filled the room, which might or not be related with Roier choosing this exact time to rhythmically squeeze his sides, going up and down on the tickle spot quickly and skillfully, counting that the surprise attack and fast scribbling of his fingers would be enough to not allow the other to turn the tables before he could enjoy at least a good amount of Cellbit’s cute laughter. “Guapito!”

“Huh? Que dije, gatinho? No hablo inglés, sorry, sorry.” (Huh? What did you say, gatinho? I don’t speak english, sorry, sorry.)

“Pendejo!” He tried to grab his wrists, but with a swift movement Roier caught one of his hands and intertwined their fingers, pulling his arm up and then having no obstacles to attack his unprotected armpit with all the scratches and pokes that he knew that would make the detective completely lose any trace of coherent thought.

Cellbit threw his head backwards with a short ‘eee’ sound, silent laughter ringing in the air for a few seconds before he tried to become a ball of protection, squeaks and yelps falling like a waterfall from his lips as his hand went from trying to hide his smile to pushing the tickling away.

“Awww, no mames, wey. Cellbit you’re so ticklish, man. You’re ticklish everywhere.”

As if to prove what he was saying, Roier began spidering his fingers anywhere his fingers could reach, prodding the space between his ribs, scribbling on his sides, squeezing his hips, tracing his neck all while watching the other’s laughter descend in a string of high pitched giggling that made his cheeks burn and eyes gleam in mirth.

“Literally ticklish everywhere. A ver, a ver: Boom” (Look at this, look at this)

A poke on his armpit and another squeal shot through the room, more of them following as he kept poking his entire torso randomly, drinking on the gigantic smile on Cellbit’s face. “See? Very, very ticklish. Boom. Boom. Boom.”

“Não, sem cócegas, sem cócegas!” (No, no tickling, no tickling!) His voice was breathless, the words barely understandable with all the giggles.

Roier adjusted himself to a sitting position on his lap, letting go of his arm so both of his hands would be free. Cellbit latched on his wrists but didn’t actually push him away.

“Oh no,” He gasped dramatically, making his voice in a deep tune of despair that he knew sounded ridiculous enough to increase the foolishness of all of this, both of his hands following Cellbit’s torso around when it instinctively tried to squirm away from his hold, digging on any tickle spot available before happily jumping to another, no matter how much the detective tried to wiggle away or cull in protection. “Las cosquillas, Cellbit! Las cosquillas te encontraron, nooo! Ya no puedo salvarlo, és muy tarde.” (The tickles, Cellbit! The tickles found you, nooo! I can no longer save you, it’s too late)

Roier then added a few grunting sounds as he made an entire show of fighting his own hands, throwing himself from one side to another and swearing before finally stopping his attack. He felt a bit silly in doing all that but seeing the blush crept in Cellbit’s neck and how his snickers still danced joyfully in the air for the next few minutes even after he ceased his attack, he felt proud.

The brazilian tried for a third time to open his eyes - black and glinting with a playful mirth and a few unshed tears - and endured exactly two entire seconds of looking at Roier before his chuckling grew anew. Roier couldn’t help but laugh with him.

“Se murió, noo. Estás completamente muerto.” (He died, noo. He is completely dead.)

Cellbit weakly punched his shoulder, his own still bouncing with the leftover laughter.

“Callate, estúpido!” (Shut up, stupid!)

“Eh? Estúpido?” Roier didn’t wait not a single second before clawing on his stomach, sniggering malefically at the surprised crackling that exploded from the other, his hand hitting the tabletop. “Ya está, ya está. Ya no voy más a dejarte ir. Grosseirinho. Gatinho grosseirinho” (Enough, enough. I’m not letting you go, now. Rude. Rude gatinho)

“Desculpa, desculpa.” (I’m sorry, i’m sorry)

“Nah, nah, nah. Con esa boquita me besas?” (Do you kiss me with that mouth?)

With a bolt of strength Cellbit adjusted his hold and pulled the other forward, making him lose his balance and fall on his chest. He lost no time before capturing his lips in a kiss, immediately making Roier’s brain stop and his entire body freeze before melting on his chest, the tickle attack coming to halt, totally forgotten.

They spent a few moments like this before breaking apart.

“Si, con esa boquita te beso.” (Yes, I kiss you with that mouth.) Cellbit replied, satisfied in taking the other’s teasy grin right out his lips.

Roier, ignoring how hot his cheeks felt, snickered at how proud and playful the other’s smirk was, especially when Cellbit didn’t try even the slightest bit to hide how smug he felt since, even with a rushed plan created while he was laughing his ass off, he knew his husband well enough to know exactly what to do to stop his thoughts and attacks immediately.

It wasn’t easy to catch the flirty fighter out of guard but it was worth it every single time.

Still, Roier just couldn’t help himself but tease his love just a tiny little bit more.

“Nah, pinche beso sin fueza. (Nah, what a fucking weak kiss) One more, one more.”

He then lowered his head, pretending to go for another kiss before quickly changing his direction and planting a raspberry on the other’s neck, quickly following it with another and another and a fourth one before losing the battle against his own crackles and resting his forehead on Cellbit’s shoulder, still not believing in the honest to god shriek that came out of the other’s mouth, more laughing quickly following it.

Cellbit sweared at him and lightly pushed his arm, but both just let themselves calm down from the adrenaline and the high in a melody of increasingly quieter giggles.

“How did you say cosquillas in portuguese? Co… consewhat?”

“Nah, nah, nah. I’m not teaching you that.”

“Come on, man!”

Cellbit squeezed his side, making him jump with a yelp and get out of the chair while he was quick to follow, standing on his feet and stretching with a yawn. A worryingly number of cracks followed that action and that made Roier relax, knowing his husband would be too tired to get any revenge now. It was almost 4 am, afterall.

“Outro dia te conto. Vamos, pendejo,” (I will tell you another day. Let’s go, idiot) the detective turned off the computer and held his hand out, giving Roier’s one a tender kiss when he immediately answered the gesture before intertwining their fingers. Roier could feel a bolt of electricity and warmth travel his entire body at that “Let’s go to the castle. I will finish the rest of my work tomorrow.”

Roier kissed his cheek and pulled his warpstone, smiling. “I will follow you, gatinho.”

No matter what or where, he really would.

Cellbit smiled, pulled his own warpstone, starting to disappear in sparkles of purple. “I will wait, guapito.”

And, for forever, that is also true.

They slept relaxed and in peace that night.

[~*~]

Random fun fact: Forever and Felps are the only ones capable of making Cellbit stop working for very different reasons: Forever because he also has a thick skull and can and WILL spend the entire night complaining about the fact that Cellbit isn’t getting out of his office and how HE is already bored for being in his office and even calling Richas and Roier to try to help him. While Felps is because the logic and serious part of his brain automatically shut off everytime his best friend is around and usually they get lost talking about semantics and philosophy and random questions like what can and can not be considered a soup.

#I was today's years old when I discovered that q!Cellbit's eyes are actually black/dark brown like DEFRGYUIOIUHYGT #qsmp tickles #Ticklish!Cellbit #Ler!Roier #yeah when he gets Roier back he will teach him how to say 'cócegas' and asking for him to say it while he is in a mess of laughter #<3 them #qsmp tickling #I could honestly spend hours and hours writing about how I love to read fluffs where they are cuddling and hugging and being soft #and I still wouldn't be done sdrftyuijhj but also I wanted to add a lot of pokes of fun here because they really do be teasing each other-#-all the time #Kanene's fic #Kanene's fanfic #bruh I forgot but I have to update my masterpost augh

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yume-fanfare · 5 months

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writing comics is quite the exercise in that you have to condense what you want to say because no way im drawing all of that, but still stay in character. other times i end up using the word "really" in three sentences in a row

#IT HAUNTS ME.#i should edit it maybe #my english vocabulary feels really lacking orz you guys need proper augmentatives #but yeah it's like this grey area between fanfic and fanart?#i do stress over characterization but it's less than a full fic #though ive also seen japanese twt fan comics that have So Much text honestly i should do that sometimes #comics give u the ability to go straight to The Scene you thought about without having to build the entire fic around it #so its at least convenient in that aspect #i do want to write fic again thoughhh maybe ill make that a 2024 goal #mar's midnight rambles

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hallufabrication · 5 months

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It's a small world

A fic about various things I wanted to write about instead of rambling about them; focuses on Manta and Hannah. The whole thing is under the cut.

Manta didn’t expect his and Hannah’s connection to fizzle out the way it did.

Not that he was expecting anything specific; She wasn’t someone he would really consider a friend. At the same time, though, he couldn’t deny that they weren’t exactly strangers, either. They hung out sometimes, she tried to help him during his illegal race against Corto, and they bonded over how great they thought Teach tech was – something that left a bitter taste in his mouth now.

He would have expected some kind of a lukewarm goodbye, or an awkward wave as they stepped onto the boats meant to take them to their homes. But as the boat steering towards the Solar Sea took off, there was no exchange between them - in fact, he wasn’t even anywhere nearby, instead preparing for his and Shino’s attempt at getting a better life for themselves.

He did think then if he should have approached her outburst the day before the way he did. Back then, he didn’t see it as anything more than a show of weakness; she wouldn’t have lasted a day in what he had to live through on Polaris. Why should she get sympathy for being a double-crosser? For only feeling bad now that it was too late anyway, now that Gavinda’s plan was in full swing?

But it wasn’t too late. Not to her and the Tikis, anyway. And she did her part in fighting against Teach…

Unlike him, at first.

No, Hannah wasn’t weak. After everything, Manta could tell that much.

Maybe he shouldn’t have underestimated how cruel Teach could have been to her. Maybe that shouldn’t have been his last words to her.

“Oh well. Too bad”, he thought, going back to packing his stuff. What’s done is done.

He hasn’t really thought about this, or anything related to the Mirages, for the next few months. He had more important things on his mind - building a new life from scratch with Shino (and Debbie) on an entirely new island was challenging enough to take away any time he could have had for reminiscing about his old acquaintances from the Whale Cup.

They weren’t on his mind these few months later, as he was walking through one of the lesser known alleys of Tortuga to his boat, either - at least not until he saw a familiar looking silhouette walking through one of the streets he’d usually pass.

“Hannah?” He called out instinctively, more out of surprise than anything else.

“Oh– hi, Manta.” She replied, turning around to face him. “Been a while, huh?”

“Yeah, but– What are you doing here?”

“On Tortuga? I came for the Rotor Punch, obviously.” She shrugged. “But, I wanted to see how you’re doing with my own two eyes while I’m here, too.”

“You heard of me?” He asked, squinting his eyes.

“Duh. It’d be harder to not hear of the famous White Tiger, honestly.” She said, leaning on the wall next to her. “You’re taking Aquagram by storm– You know that, right?”

He shrugged and made an indecipherable hum. Debbie did tell him that he was getting more popular day by day, but he never really got interested in how popular he was outside of Tortuga, exactly. His winning streak mattered to him more than whatever she was doing over on her hologlove.

“Wait, but– Rotor Punch? You’re competing?”

“What, you think I can’t handle it?”

“It’s just– I didn’t know if you’d still be racing after… Everything.”

Hannah frowned for a short second, but quickly smirked instead.

“It takes more than that to make me quit, you know. I managed to get into Solar Empire’s drone guard.”

She crossed her arms, still leaning on the wall.

“So, I’m the one representing the Empire this year.”

“Oh, wow. You got yourself a solid position, huh?” He said, walking over and sitting down on the stairs next to her. “How’d you even do that?”

“Eh, turns out getting to the finals of the Whale Cup was good enough of an achievement to sign up. Only had to climb a few ranks after that.”

“Pshf, sounds easy.” He teased. She only hummed in response.

“What about Adam? Is he participating with you?”

A slight grimace showed up on Hannah’s face. Manta wasn’t sure how to decipher what emotion it was supposed to show.

“...No, he’s not. He hasn’t reached out to me after Teach’s defeat.”

“Oh.” Manta said. “...Sorry.”

“It’s fine.” Hannah sighed, sitting next to him on the stairs.

“...I haven’t tried to reach him, either. At first I thought I should, since Teach manipulated him, too, but… He was always more invested in her plans than I was. It seems like we both picked our sides.”

“...I see.”

“Yeah.”

A moment of silence fell upon them.

“And you’re…not worried?”

Hannah glared at him for a few seconds before deciding on an answer.

“I… don’t know. I have mixed feelings about it all.” She stated, resting her chin on her hand.

“Teach was cruel to him, too. She’s not going to suddenly do a 180. But, if that was his choice, then–”

She suddenly waved with the same hand in the air, leaning back.

“--so be it! I’m not going to chase after someone who made up their mind!”

She let out something between a groan and a sigh, hiding her face with her hands for a moment.

“...What’s it to you, anyway? I didn’t take you for the type to talk about this kinda stuff.”

Manta shrugged, looking somewhere else.

“You were the one who said it’s been a while.”

“Heh– yeah, that’s true.” She chuckled. “I guess it did a number on you.”

“Hmm.”

They sat for a moment in silence before Hannah stood up from the stairs.

“...Well, I should go. I take it you’re taking part in the Rotor Punch too, right?”

“Of course. Who do you take me for?”

“Yeah, thought so.” She smirked again, turning back to go about her way.

“I’ll see you around, then. Just don’t expect me to go easy on you.”

“Psh, as if I’d need that. But yeah. See you around.” He replied, also getting up from the sidewalk.

As he got back to walking to his boat, he felt a sense of a relief he didn’t expect.

Turns out, he was sorta glad to see her again.

#i dont really know why anyone would do this but just to be sure?? don't tag as ship? like any relation mentioned in this #droners #droners hannah #droners manta #droners season 2 #droners fanfic #i mentioned in the tags of that adam ramble that i was thinking of hannah's POV too but wanted to write it. well. heh #its done finally #at first i was kind of surprised to see that she didn't even mention him but as i thought about it it did make sense #we don't really know much abt what they went through long-term together but afawk hannah has no idea abt what happened in the titan #meaning she doesnt even know adam was taken by teach against his will #from her POV he might as well be staying on her side willingly. and maybe she is upset about it #but unless he's mentioned by someone else she's moving forward & not thinking about him #which honestly good for her that she's not letting this bring her down #there is also the fact that its been a few months #even if this 'moving forward' would be harder at first she had time to get used to it #so. yea #still hoping that they'll adress it in the show #but i don't really feel her not acknowledging all this as OOC

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