#in hits and kudos

[jomiddlemarch]

With you nothing is simple yet nothing is simpler 

Rose stood before her, drooping, her braids coming undone, shoes scuffed, a new rip in her overalls, giving Hermione a look of absolute incredulity when faced with the undeniable truth:

Hermione had forgotten to pack snacks. 

She didn’t even have a bloody Polo mint somewhere in the recesses of her beaded bag, Transfigured to look like an ordinary mum’s ordinary leather handbag, designed to carry her through her day at the Ministry and any trips she might make to Muggle London. 

Forget about something healthy. 

She had planned to rely on the water fountain, that wasn’t another complete miss on her part.

She opened her mouth to begin the explanation-slash-apology that would not satisfy either one of them. Rose already had that furrow in her little brow that meant she planned to invoke Nan, which only ever meant Molly, and how important Nan said it was for growing human beans to have good homegrown food and not that muck Mum bought from Tesco’s.

“I have plenty, if she’s hungry. The fruit’s already cut, it won’t keep, and these pesto egg muffin bite things he said he liked yesterday, so of course I’ve gone and made far too many.”

That was Draco Malfoy, sitting on the bench just next to hers, a rucksack and some sort of sport-inspired hamper beside him, unable to resist rubbing it in, that he was a better prepared and more attentive parent than she was, the he his neatly and comfortably dressed five year old son Scorpius, who somehow made the jersey and shorts he wore look like the ideal outfit for a Wizarding child. His fringe was the proper length and not slicked back with some imported pomade like Draco’s had been for the first three years at Hogwarts, and he was busy constructing something tower-like from the stones, twigs and other assorted detritus he’d scoured the park for while Rose ran around, screaming like a banshee and climbing halfway up a tree before scuttling down again before Hermione had to call out to tell her too high, Rose!

Hermione turned her head to convert her explanation-slash-apology into a far more gratifying coldly cutting retort that she had to trust to inspiration to supply, since she had nothing approaching the moral high ground, when she actually looked at Draco’s face, which was tilted in an encouraging and frankly kind manner, and consider the tone of his voice, which had been commiserating and not the least judgmental. Hermione was quite familiar with the myriad shades of judgment and Draco’s voice hadn’t held even one.

He was also incredibly fit.

(That wasn’t really relevant to her decision-making, but it was note-worthy as a general fact.)

“Rose, Mr. Malfoy has some fruit if you want a snack. And something else tasty and homemade, just like Nan would have given you for tea,” Hermione said. Rose sized up Draco in an instant, pivoted to rifle through the sporty hamper, retrieved a little baggie of apple slices and another of the unexpectedly attractive pesto egg bites that reminded Hermione she’d also forgotten lunch and a stale ginger biscuit at her desk was going to have to hold her until after Rose was asleep.

Again.

“Ta,” Rose said, about to fly. It was impossible that she wouldn’t be Quidditch-mad. 

“Rose,” Hermione said. 

“Thank you, Mr. M’Foy,” Rose said. It was anyone’s guess if she would have gotten Malfoy correct without her mouth half stuffed with Braeburn. 

“You’re quite welcome,” Draco said.

Hermione nodded and Rose scrambled away, as fast as her hand-me-down trainers could take her.

“Thank you. I appreciate it. Her wild magic on an empty stomach is terrifying,” Hermione said. Was she bragging about Rose’s magic, when she’d heard rumors Scorpius Malfoy might be a Squib? Probably and she wasn’t proud of it, but that wasn’t unfamiliar either.

“I find them terrifying full-stop,” Draco said. “Adorable, would lay down my life for him in a heartbeat, makes me question every decision my own parents ever made on my behalf, but terrifying nonetheless.”

Hermione laughed. It was the first time she could remember laughing at something Draco said without there being any seething vitriol or tearful desperation she’d had to tamp down or put aside. It felt…nice.

“I have a bit more sympathy for my parents,” she offered. “My wild magic started when I was a toddler and they had no idea what to make of it. No context at all. My mother told me, during out sixth year, that she’d thought she was losing her mind. I was well on my way to inventing Leviosa before I got a hold of the first year spellbooks.”

“Yes, I can see how that might be where one would go. Madness, that is,” he said. There was a frankly companionable silence between the two of them and then he spoke again. “Sometimes, I can’t help regretting it.”

“Regretting what?”

“I love him, with all that I am, my heart and soul and magic. And I can’t help regretting sometimes I agreed to it, having him when I, when we did,” he said. He turned away slightly, so that she saw him in profile, a face like a god’s on a coin, the straight nose, the full lower lip, his jaw held tightly. 

“Why are you telling me?” she asked.

“For one, I don’t think you can think any worse of me than you already do, so that makes you perfect for such a shameful admission,” he said, shrugging. “Secondly, you let your daughter eat the snacks I made. Not that I’m trying to make you feel like you owe me something, that I’ve caught you out. You trusted me with your child, that’s what I meant.”

“I think you underestimate how I think of you,” she said slowly.

“Is that better or worse? Do you mean you think well of me and now I’ve dropped in your estimation? Or did I somehow go from sniveling worm beneath your heel to abysmal slime-mold you wouldn’t use your wand to scrape off with magic from said heel?”

He sounded resigned, amused, self-deprecating. His voice was low, a rich baritone, only a little of that drawl he’d had at Hogwarts left. The perfect amount. 

“I wear flats unless I’m in court,” she said. “I don’t hold the past against you anymore, we were children, child-soldiers, pawns moved around by people who should have known better. Played a better game of Wizarding chess, given that it was our lives they used. I regret it, myself, having her so young, though I don’t let myself think it if I can help it. I can’t, if I want to keep being a decent mother.”

“You are clearly an exceptionally fine mother. Why did you do it? You’re Hermione Granger, you don’t make decisions you regret,” he said.

Now she laughed, a bitter sound, that kept the tears in her eyes from spilling. 

“Don’t believe everything you hear. Or read,” she said. “I lost my parents in the war. They were both only children, my grandparents were gone a long time ago. Rose was my one chance to have a family, someone who belonged to me.”

“I’m terribly sorry. I hadn’t heard they’d died,” he said.

“They’re alive. Just…lost. Turns out, if you do a thorough enough Obliviation, there’s no return. The person they were before is effectively dead. They’re just not sad about it. That’s for other people,” Hermione said.

“Astoria told me it was her dying wish to have a child, even though it would kill her,” Draco said.

“That’s why you agreed?”

“No. I refused when she said that. She used blood magic, from the binding. Once that was done, it was either lose them both or just her,” he said. “She didn’t know that for sure, there was plausible deniability and we’d said someday. She made someday happen sooner than I thought possible.”

“You loved her,” Hermione offered. She’d never met Astoria, who’d been a few years behind them at Hogwarts and in Ravenclaw, had only a dim memory of the photo that had been in the Prophet when the marriage was announced, a slim, dark-haired young woman wearing a lot of lace standing next to Draco, who’d been all in black. Wizards wore all sorts of things to funerals. Only Hermione saw him in mourning at his wedding.

“In a way. I hated her too. I didn’t want to be either of my parents and I didn’t know how to be anything else,” he said. “My parents were overjoyed, a Malfoy heir, no miscarriages, no stillbirths. A healthy Pureblood baby. That’s quite rare, all the inbreeding, you understand. They think Astoria was a paragon of virtue and also, they didn’t give a damn about her.”

Scorpius ran over and stretched out a hand to show Draco a stone. It was an unremarkable piece of quartz, though it did catch the light.

“What a find, love. You can bring it home if you like or leave it here. You could even hide it, like goblin treasure,” Draco said, studying the stone, reaching out to straighten the collar of Scorpius’s jersey. He touched Scorpius’s cheek fondly, but he didn’t try to wipe the smear of dirt there, nor did he say anything about his son’s grubby hands. Hermione recalled what a pristine child he’d been, all silver and green, how he’d stand between his parents, very still, as if a portrait were being painted. 

“Hide it—” Scorpius said and darted back over to the field, just at the edge where a copse of trees stood, shadows beckoning. The whole playground was heavily warded and there were monitoring spells St. Mungo used for observation. It was safe enough to let him run away.

“That’s what I thought,” Draco said, shooting her that familiar parental glance, proud and powerless. 

“Ron begged me not to end the pregnancy. It wasn’t planned. The Healers said the curse damage I suffered from Bellatrix was unpredictable, the interactions with contraceptive charms and potions would have made them less effective. It wasn’t my fault, except I never told them I hadn’t bothered with any spells or potions, so it was, in a way. I didn’t care and then I did. I told Ron I was pregnant and he told me he was gay and in love with Theo and it would break his mother’s heart if he never gave her a grandchild. My parents were gone. Harry and Ginny were expecting, Andromeda was raising Teddy, Bill and Fleur just had Victoire. It was easier to say yes. It made so many people happy and Ron did what he said he would,” Hermione said. Andromeda knew most of it, but Hermione had never told anyone all of it, certainly not in one sitting, not sitting on a park bench in the weak English sunshine, without a Polo mint to her name. Augusta Longbottom had said Hermione should do as she liked but it was rare to see such a strong magical signature in the first trimester, though likely it would happen again, for a witch of her abilities. Likely hadn’t seemed like a good enough bet, not when Ron’s blue eyes had pled with her and he’d held her hands in his instead of touching her completely flat stomach. 

“What he said he would?” Draco repeated. He sounded encouraging, not nosy. Not prepared to made a rude remark about Ron or the Weasley family as a whole. It felt…good.

“Molly wanted me to name her Frederica. Winifred. Or Elfreda. It was ghastly. Even I knew Fred would have loathed it. Ron put his foot down and told her we weren’t doing that to a baby and that I had final say on her name. Then he came out to them, Molly and Arthur, so the name part receded as something anyone cared that much about,” Hermione said. “I don’t have to tell you how Purebloods feel about that, however warm and Muggle-forward they seem to be.”

“Bloody hell,” Draco said.

“There was a lot of screaming. Arthur finally told Molly to be grateful she had a son alive to tell her what made him happy and she piped down,” Hermione said. “She started knitting a jersey for Theo as soon as Ron let it slip they were involved. It was a little forced, but I think the knitting settled her down, let her feel like she was back in charge of the family. Molly had a great need for that.”

“Ah, the famous Weasley jersey,” Draco said.

“Infamous is more like it,” she replied. “Fleur won’t wear hers at all. But she’s married to Bill, so she can get away with it.”

“I gather you don’t have the same option,” he said.

“Molly watches Rose when Ron and Theo and I are all working or busy, always sends home dinner, invites me to Sunday lunch even when Ron and Theo have Rose. She’s Rose’s only grandmother. She means well,” Hermione shrugged. “Fleur wears cashmere and Molly sniffs. I Transfigured mine into a cardigan. Molly didn’t mind that, as long as the H is all on one side. I hid the pockets I added.”

“It’s hard, isn’t it?” he said, squinting a little against the light, the sun lower in the sky. Rose had approached Scorpius and now they were working on something with less height but a larger area. Hermione suspected St. Mungo’s had tracking spells to evaluate wild magic. At Rose’s last Healer’s visit, Hermione had been advised to stock up on Easiheal and beginning Arithmancy books, as if she and Ron hadn’t already done so (plus the Wizarding chess set Theo had brought out to let Rose watch them play.)

“It beats the alternative,” Hermione said. He shifted, faced her full on. They both looked older than they were, Draco with shadows under his grey eyes that spoke of broken sleep, Hermione with a streak of white in her hair like a ribbon, neither of them partial to glamours. He’d grown a fair amount after Hogwarts, his shoulders broader, his lanky frame filled out, and he dressed the part of an older man, much as Hermione had her mum’s uniform on. For a moment, she only saw the boy he’d been, too clever by half, preening, insecure, nervous he’d be caught caring. He’d taken the Dark Mark or rather, it had been forced on him, hidden by the sleeve he had securely fastened with monogrammed cufflinks. He could be the Dark Lord’s deputy, she could be dead in a ditch, both their first wands broken.

“I don’t think that’s as true as people say,” he replied. “We could have been given a chance to grow up. To put ourselves first, not the survival of the Wizarding world or the Noble House of Black. We could have found ourselves here in another ten years or twenty, with children we had chosen to have. Had wanted to bring into existence from dreams. We wouldn’t have to be alone, here, and at home, sitting by ourselves with a drink after we put them to bed, wondering what happened—”

“It’s hard,” she said, to stop him, because he was so right it hurt. She drank tea at night, even though it kept her up, because drinking wine or whiskey alone was worse. Ron and Theo encouraged her to go out when they kept Rose, but she didn’t. She didn’t want to explain who she was and she couldn’t bear it they already knew. She drank oolong, Darjeeling, PG Tips, always black, and she never read the leaves.

“What if it were easier?” he asked.

“Easier?”

“What if you told me what happened and I told you, after we put them to bed. What happened that day, not just what Rose did and what Scorpius said, but how you dealt with that stroppy minister from Croatia and how I heard back from Damaris, in Alexandria, about that manuscript revision, and what we could bring to the potluck Neville’s insisting on hosting instead of getting a proper caterer,” he said. “Samosas, for the record. Though I can manage vol-au-vents in a pinch, if you wanted to be Muggle retro about it.”

“That’s a lot happening,” she said. It was a leap, an enormous, across-a-chasm leap, he was describing and also just words, a possibility she could dismiss with a shake of her head, a slight frown, some politeness he’d accept instantly. His eyes, though, were hopeful, watching her.

“Scorpius will probably interrupt. He usually wants a glass of water exactly when I’m at a good part,” Draco said.

“Rose talks in her sleep. In French. It’s quite distracting,” Hermione said. When had she ever backed away from something daunting? Granted, she usually did some research first. Draco knew what a vol-au-vent was; she clearly wasn’t the only one who prepared. “It’s better than mine. She talks to Fleur and Gabrielle a lot.”

“I’m fluent,” he said. “In French and wheedling.”

“I’m good at pouring a glass of water wandless. I make the water take the shape of a dolphin going into the glass but I can do a Hippocampus too,” Hermione said.

“Are you hungry? I have apple slices and pesto egg muffin bites going begging,” he said, smiling. He had a sweet smile and a gleam in his eyes that was positively, gratifyingly filthy. She blushed, dropped her gaze from his.

“You’re a very pretty mummy, Hermione,” he said softly. “But it can be whatever you want, however you want. It can be maybe later, after you look at your calendar. Half-past never. Whatever’s easier—”

“I didn’t bring any snacks to the park and I have nothing planned for dinner unless we get Indian takeaway again. For the third time this week,” she said in a rush. “It would be easier to have someone else take care of dinner. I’m not picky, Rose isn’t either.”

“Bolognese or carbonara?” Draco asked. “Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy is made 98.2% from pasta. Don’t be deceived by the organic apple slices and pesto egg affectations.”

“Carbonara’s faster,” Hermione said. 

“But what do you want?” Draco hit the you and want with a perfect balance of emphasis. It made her remember she was only twenty-four years old. Hermione, not only Madam Granger and Mummy and ‘Mione.

“Bolognese,” she said. She reached over, touched his hand where it rested beside his leg. He couldn’t mistake her intention. “Everyone calls her Rose, but I named her Roseline, from Shakespeare. Roseline’s the one Romeo liked first. She goes away. Lives her own life off-stage.”

“I had to pick a constellation. I wouldn’t do it again,” he said.

Ten years later, after a long day and a longer night, he arrived, only a little later than they’d planned and just as they’d hoped. They named him Hugo.

#dramione #hermione x draco #post-hogwarts #family #angst #meet-cute #ron weasley being not as bad as you think #ron/theo #weasley family #dad!draco #mum!hermione #park bench #kidfic #since my fic tagged colic has outstripped my sex pollen tagged fic #in hits and kudos #I decided to double down on DILF!Draco #scorpius malfoy #rose weasley #epilogue what epilogue #very canon au #single parents #widower!draco

[writeouswriter]

People sorting ao3 solely by stats and only clicking on fics with a certain amount of kudos or comments, you will not survive the winter, nor the summer, nor at all, *brings out knife,* run

#ao3 #fanfiction #because if everyone thinks like that then so many fics that might be great get buried and fall into the void #someone has to read it with no hits or kudos #not to mention sometimes people just have wildly different tastes so you don't know unless you look at it yourself #i put a bunch of exclusion filters and then go by summary and tags and open all the ones that sound interesting to me #if they're bad well easy enough to move on #but lotta good ones hidden in there with not a comment in sight and i must change that #knife tw #? #tw knife mention

[stiffyck]

Giving all fanfic authors a smooch on the forehead <3

And also giving a little flower to everyone who comments on their fics <3

#stiff talk #ive been looking at the ration on fics of like the kudos and hits and comments #and its insane how little comments there are #just leave “<3” guys #i can assure you the writers will appreciate it

[puppyeared]

aughg

#hahaha.... oh no............... #u know i hit rock bottom when i pull out detco art <- is crumpling under assignments lying on the floor fetal position #i dont think im ever gonna be normal abt thse idiots. im sorry gang i got curious and i dont even fucking go here #ive never watched nor plan to watch dcmk im just fascinated by thief/detective enemies to lovers and i have a crush on kaito kid. thats it #its literally platos allegory blorbos. also gave shinichi a beauty mark bc i learned his moms an actress and thats such a missed opportunit #ill probably be embarrassed when i find this later. ughhh #myart #my art #doodles #detective conan #dcmk #magic kaito #case closed #shinichi kudo #kuroba kaito #kaito kid #hattori heiji #hakuba saguru #gosho boys #? is that the tag? #detective conan case closed #detco

[sanguinarysanguinity]

To the authors who are unhappy about their hits-to-kudos ratio on AO3: as a kindness to yourselves, please stop. That hit counter doesn’t mean what you think it means.

First, not all those hits are people. A substantial chunk of those hits, as I understand it, are machines, looking to see what the page is. The hits-to-kudos is whack from the hour a story is posted, because a bunch of those hits are machines.

Second, multiple hits can be the same person on their first read of the story. If I open a story in a browser tab to read later, my browser sometimes/often unloads that tab in the interim, resulting in it reloading that tab and creating a new hit when I finally go to read it. If reading it requires multiple sessions, that’s multiple new hits. If I then leave it open for a while to remind myself to leave a comment, my browser will reload it again, generating another new hit, before it lets me write a comment. Altogether, my first read of a story, plus leaving a comment, can easily turn into five or more hits, depending on how hard I’m finding it to find reading and commenting time.

Third, if your story has been up for a while, the people who adore your story are driving up your hit counter with their re-reads. They go away, they come back, they re-read, and they do it again, and they do it again. It’s probably only a small subset of your total readers, but if one of your stories becomes someone’s go-to comfort read for times when they are stressed out (or, if it’s an explicit story, if it becomes their favorite jack-off material), that one person’s devoted re-reading might easily hit your story dozens of times. But most readers feel hella shy about admitting that they treat your story like a fuzzy blanket (or a vibrator); either way, it’s pretty rare for them to tell you about it. (Which I’m sympathetic to! Fuzzy blankets are a very personal thing, and no one wants to feel stared at by the author while they’re having a vulnerable moment.)

Fourth, stories get read by people outside of fandom, people who don’t think of themselves as your friends/neighbors/community-members, and who just... never think to hit kudos, at all, because their social context is so far removed from ours. I’ve got a couple of stories that were linked on TVTropes once upon a time, and their hit-to-kudos ratios are fucking absurd. If your story got linked outside of fandom somewhere, odds are that most of the people coming in from that link will never think to hit kudos, no matter how much they liked it, because they never quite connect that there’s a real live author, breathlessly hoping to be liked and appreciated, standing just behind the screen, and that maybe readers should be polite and say ‘thank you’ to them when they finish the story and leave.

tl;dr Do not assume every hit is new human reader who didn’t like your story and clicked out. Your hit counts will often be ten times greater than your kudos, just for stupid ordinary internet-traffic reasons, and the older a story becomes (and the more times bots and re-readers hit it), the wider the hits-to-kudos gulf will become. Do yourself a kindness and stop calculating that ratio -- and if you can’t stop making yourself crazy about it, go into settings and turn off your hit counter displays. Please be tender to yourselves; being an author is hard enough as it is.

#ao3 #hits #kudos

[bakudekublogblog]

the funniest part about coming to mha late, was I knew bkdk was extremely controversial and had seen some of the discourse about from the outside, so when I finally decided to watch it I was shocked to discover just how much of the plot revolved around izuku having a huge crush on kacchan

#bakudeku #bkdk #chases him down with a broken arm to tell him his secret #gets powers from all might bc he saw his beloved was the boy being attacked by the sludge villain #ochako: isn’t that the kid who bullies you? izuku: YEAH HES AMAZING #I WANNA BEAT YOU BC YOURE AMAZING KACCHAN #copies all his moves #only decides to take the tournament seriously when kacchan does #just the entirety of kacchan v deku part two #trains with kacchan shares his top secret meetings with all night with kacchan #watches him longingly as he saves to win during the training exercise #goes into a bloodlust when kacchan takes a hit for him #only returns home when kacchan pleads with him to come back #kacchan gets murdered specifically because izuku loves him so much #izuku takes the fight with Shigaraki to the ground to protect kacchan’s dying body #longingly staring at him as kacchan saves all night #little baby izuku chasing him around and staring at him bc he’s just that besotted #kudo teasing izuku by bringing up kacchan #and that’s all just izuku don’t even get me started on Our Gaylord and Savior Kacchan

[thermodynamic-comedian]

uhhhh if this post gets 1k notes im gonna stop feeling bad about writing self-indulgent fics that only i enjoy [thumbs up emoji]

#''i write for myself'' well i try to . but the dopamine hits when i get kudos and comments is soo <3 <3 <3

[gunpowder-tim]

seen this post a couple times on my dash and this shit is wild. yall care abt hits & kudos? i read what sounds good from the summary & tags. i barely ever even look at the word count.

#rai.txt #like. do people often look at hits and kudos? #is this just a thing of im in a small fandom and read fic abt it so those things matter less like????

[alkalinefrog]

I'M NOT DEAD, I just spent the last couple months moving! One of my roommates convinced me to say hijack with my full chest and most of my friends know about this blog anyway :'''D

Hiya hiya, my name's Kai and my insta's @fisheye.kai! I'm gonna start posting there again as a new year's resolution!

Also gonna open commissions soon so keep an eye out for those!

#my art #selfies #tloa is still alive and well and being written don't worry I hit 420 kudos (blaze it) and now I have to follow through

[bamsara]

hey did you know you're the #1 kudos fic in Fnaf? congrats!

hi this is actually terrifying

#im gonna be real with you #i havent really been looking at hits or kudos because i just pay attention to comments and they get sent directly to my email #last time i remember someone showed me it was on the first page but i kinda #forgot #lmao #anyway remember to read non-dca centered fics to give the rest of the fandom and other creators love #gonna telepathically send this image to 2015 me who was writing fnaf fanfiction on wattpad back in the day

[bluerasbunny]

so who was gonna tell me that VKTRS hit 1000 HITS and 100 KUDOS...

by god you're all insane. /pos as a thank you for the continued support, here's a render i was working on!;

#grayy art #dca fandom #fnaf moon #vktrs au #video killed the radio star au #dca radio host au #id in alt #1000 HITS... 100 KUDOS THATS INSANE YOU'RE ALL INSANE /pos #THANK YOU SO MUCH!! WHAT THE HELL!!!! /pos

[weebsinstash]

more valentino PLEASE 🙏

How does the saying go, "i want this man in ways that are concerning to feminism"?

I was thinking of how Angel used to live in V Tower and, how fucked up would it be for him to receive a good morning text from Val to head up to his room, and AD is thinking it's a booty call, but it's ACTUALLY Valentino being a manipulative piece of shit

Angel comes into the room and Valentino is already half or fully naked but like, he's not hard or anything and Angel is confused? The moth is just, chilling naked smoking with this satisfied look on his face? And Valentino just, gives him some menial command to run him a favor, and he pauses mid-sentence to turn and call out YOUR name before regarding his Fizz Bot, "Kitty, why don't you make my baby a drink?" and you're just like, slinking out from under the covers, ashamed that Angel now knows you slept with the Overlord, let alone someone you know uh, treats him pretty fucking poorly (although I imagine not like, the entire entire brutal extent of it, also, Angel Dust using Reader as a shield against Val because they're both calmer when you're around)

Could you imagine some scenario, platonic romantic it doesn't matter, where like. Angel is talking to Valentino and he sees you in the corner of his eye and he just stops mid sentence, does a double take, looks at you half naked in his boss' bed, and Val forces him to focus and carry on the conversation while he's crying. Angel is just all but sprinting out of the room by the time he's dismissed and Valentino may even play fucking mind games to make him like, MARINATE in how horrible this makes him feel. Valentino is dragging out the conversation and putting on his nail caps or doing his skincare routine at his vanity and making Angel sit there and wait as he's deliberate dragging on his sentences and constantly pausing but if Angel moves to leave Val snaps IMMEDIATELY. So Angel is just. Forced to stand there.

VALENTINO TALKING TO Y O U, MAKING YOU ACKNOWLEDGE ANGEL AND THE REVERSE. Valentino being manipulative and awful and shitty and doing shit like "so Angel baby, I was gonna take a trip to the spa tomorrow, mhm, and also hey you're coming too *looks at you* so Angel what do you think we should get my other amorcito over here done?" the evil bastard is making you two talk to each other, about each other, when you're both like, IN TEARS

Angel, trying to hold on to the last shreds of his sanity: s so... h have you... ever had a facial before

Valentino pausing from doing his mascara with the biggest shit eating grin on his face: oh yeah, someone just had a really, really BIG one

Reader, happily getting drunk off the drink Kitty brought you because it helps take away the pain of this entire interaction: a. .. a massage or something might be nice

Valentino, doing his contour: but baaaabe, I thought you told me you were shy about who puts their hands on your body. Are you trying to make me jealous?

Angel, desperately trying to ignore Val blowing you a kiss and you clearly having bites and hickies alllllllll over you like there wasn't a single inch of you the moth didn't put his hands mouth or otherwise on: uh huh! Cool! So! Guess we can! Decide later right! :)

Valentino, doing his nails: wrong 💅 I also need you to

And the mf is just doing that shit for like 20 minutes straight which doesn't SOUND like a lot but when you're standing there just talking and waiting and, especially having a moment like THIS, it's just DRAGGING ON, and when Angel finally leaves, you're crying, and here's Valentino, "awwww, pobrecita, come here, what's wrong?" and hugging you and you need the comfort and you're drunk and, now maybe you're just a little scared he's the only person you have left....

Also. Bonus round for the angst. Can you imagine. Angel runs off and it's you sleeping with Valentino that finally hurts him so much he's finally RUNNING running away, meeting Charlie, having another place to live. He's still working under contract but the second his shift ends he's out of the studio without another word because... he can't protect you anymore. He feels like this is his fault. He failed Molly and now he failed you and he's worthless and trash and an addict loser-- meanwhile you're beating yourself up because you've lost your only friend down here and also your biggest supporter and Valentino all but lovebombs you (and the worst part is, it's genuine and if you reject ANYTHING, he's getting Offended Bigly)

Ugh. Ok. I'm sorry. Finally finishing the post with one more thing. Valentino is definitely the type to give you expensive gifts and he doesn't actually care about the amount of money he spends on you BUT, will use the fact he's spent so much money on you to manipulate you IN A HEARTBEAT

And also. You're not allowed to reject gifts because it sets him off in like 5 different ways. "Oh so my gifts aren't good enough for you?" "Do you have any idea how much I spent on this?" "I TOOK THE TIME to get this for YOU" God forbid if it's something custom. Could you imagine he offers you something and he doesn't immediately tell you it's custom, like he's got sketches in a notebook somewhere, this is MADE WITH LOVE ableit his creepy obsessive love, and you could literally have a very polite "oh my gosh I couldn't that's so expensive I, I don't deserve it, wow" where you're obviously very happy but just shocked and feeling guilty, like a FLATTERING rejection that is obviously an insult to YOU, NOT him, and he's just. The switch fucking flips. His head tilts. He lets out a hum as his smile pulls way too tight. Lashes out within seconds. Grabs you. takes that jewelry or watch or expensive thing he bought you and literally forces it onto your body, and he's not screaming or raising his voice, he's getting right up in your face and growling out the deeeeeetails of how he got this for you until you're crying and apologizing for your ingratitude

Ugh he's so cunty and mean and awful UGH WHY WOULD I LET HIM HIT, he would use that heart shaped belt he has to put heart shaped welts on your ass and then set your cute bruised heart covered butt as his phone wallpaper and your icon in his contacts and save your name as Ropebunny or something rhfkcsbfkhdxkfh

#yandere hazbin hotel #yandere x reader #valentino x reader #hh #yandere hellaverse #sinprompts #i actually started thinking of an idea where val calls reader bunny but funny enough bunny reader x val fics exist! kudos #in my idea reader isnt a bunny but jokingly calls themself the energizer bunny after val comments on them fidgeting while serving him #he starts calling you bunny so then he has 'his Kitty and his Bunny' fndkcbffjf #ive also thought of scenarios where valentino accidentally breaks kitty and forces reader to be his new servant and keeps it that way #like can you imagine. kitty gets fixed and val STILL has you wait on him lmao. reality hitting you like a brick wall

[nana-41175]

Gonna be putting these screenshots here as a basic lesson on how NOT to be an ASSHOLE READER/COMMENTER

Tip #1: This author ABSOLUTELY WILL NOT engage with anyone who goes around giving "DON'T READ THIS FIC" recommendations to others. That kind of asshole behavior is VILE and CRUEL and this author does not take kindly to assholes

Tip #2: That Hit-to-Kudos ratio is a HIDEOUS example of a BADLY DESIGNED AND UNRELIABLE measuring tool to gauge the "success" or "popularity" of a fic and anyone fool enough to use it as the standard to read/recommend/evaluate fics is seriously missing out on a lot of good stuff out there

Tip #3: If you gonna be thinking this author thinks "everything I do in a good story is awesome and even the tiny stuff that means nothing to the story... and turns people off accidentally must be kept!" simply means you DO NOT HAVE A CLUE as to why the author chose to use that crucial scenario as a catalyst to finally bring the two lead characters together. You failed to get the point when everyone else did? That's on you. If you don't get it, you don't get it, but don't foist your idiocy on to the writer

Tip #4: Thank you, but no. All those backhanded compliments are NOT compliments at all

Tip #5: As a commenter, you are judged by a set of standards as you would a writer, beginning with whether you have a valid point, which you clearly do not have. The second thing we look out for is, is the commenter an IDIOT? Yes, in this case.

Furthermore, there is an unspoken rule of etiquette observed by conscientious readers at AO3 that-- ignoramus that you are-- you've trampled all over: if you don't know the author, your best bet is you DO NOT leave unsolicited criticism that exposes you as the over-privileged, entitled idiot that you are. That obvious need for attention and validation behind the putdowns, the FIC GRADING (seriously??) just to make oneself look bigger and somehow relevant? Not a good look

Tip #6: Spare us the ESSAYS. They're just gonna be DELETED faster than you can write them and you will be BLOCKED

Tip #7: Oh, so you're a writer as well, with just one WIP to your name? It's omegaverse, too, with a very limited view of a/b/o dynamics yet you somehow think you're some sort of expert? Tsk tsk. Starting to get the full picture now. Remember, what goes around comes around.

#asshole reviews #my lord the idiocy on display #that hits-to-kudos ratio thing is pure bullshit

[mishy-mashy]

Just a little fun detail..

THAT KUDO IS SO SHORT HE TUCKS HIS PANTS IN HIGH BOOTS.

Bruce wears those pants just fine, so he wears normal shoes. But Kudo? Look at how big they are on him. He wears boots almost up to his KNEES just to wear those pants. They're so baggy on him that the middle part for where the crotch goes, it's also almost down to his knees

Guy, where'd you get the pants? Are you just that short? Or did you take them from the long-legged Bruce?

#SHORT KING? #SHORT KING! #such a cute detail #meanwhile if bruce stood up straight hes gonna hit his head on the doorframe #everyones heights compared to each other is always inconsistent from angles and just because and such #but kudo with big pants and tall boots for said pants? never changes #kudo #bruce #yoichi shigaraki #bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #no ones brought this up. WHY? ITS CUTEE #it cant be that Bruce is just super tall #yes bruce is really tall and maybe kudo took his pants #but kudo is still short compared to the vault door #yoichi is probably taller than kudo. and yoichi was born with a weak and tiny body #resistance and tall bruce follow around muppet smile short king kudo #the demon lord AFO is afraid of the short guy #and ended up holding him at his death so hes taller than him. kudo is the bigger man to AFO #makes a more menacing memory? the guy you hate and are so scared of is actually taller than you (totally) #in reality he has two thumbs (first pic) #spoilers

[frownyalfred]

saw a post on the ao3 subreddit that made me remember…

your smut/NSFW fics don’t necessarily have bad ratios, they’re just content that people are much more likely to:

be nervous about attaching their username to by leaving kudos

visit multiple times

privately bookmark

privately share only with friends/closed discord channels

leave kudos as a guest (if at all)

(you shouldn’t put too much stock in hit to kudos ratios, but that’s another post)

#thanks to the Reddit discussion #I feel like people know this #but the reminder is also important #if you’ve ever felt bad about the hit to kudos ratio #DONT!!!! #ao3 #archive of our own #fic #fic things #fanfic #fanfiction

[rux363]

"He was, unfortunately, very handsome."

This one's a real interesting prompt because I overthink this a lil too much - but here’s what I have for this year's KaiShin One Prompt Challenge!

Please do check out how everyone has gone about with the prompt at @dcmkkaishinevents! And once again, thank you mac for organising it!

Thoughts on it under the cut!

Right. Okay. I really struggled with this one. Not only in terms of time constrains (it's been a really busy time) but also because the prompt is reaallllly interesting. Like super interesting that I just jumped onto to join the event because I wanted to challenge myself (been in a slump lately and this prompt was screaming at me) and I was latching on real hard to something here:

Shinichi and Kaito look alike. So alike that Kaito has gotten mistaken as Shinichi before, and he has used it to his advantage too.

How do I use the prompt, while also remembering that they would look the same? I thought about going the crack route, as seen below:

Kaito: He is, unfortunately, very handsome ??: ... don't you guys look exactly the same? [Narcissist much?] K: oh. Right

But I wasn't up for it. I tried thinking about the idea of one of them looking like an absolute dork (affectionately), and then the line - but it kept feeling wrong to me, because I feel like that would be attractiveness. Handsome is too much of a physical word for me.

As Faith (@indelibleme) says, "this prompt is more for the "damn he's hot" type of vibe lol" - which is absolutely true.

So it's something about the physical appearance. Or at least that's what I want to focus on. But they look the same. (Kinda. You get the idea)

And then, it hit me. What if we make it so that Kaito likes Shinichi - everything from his intelligence to his appearance, and it's not because he looks like Kaito - he doesn't feel attracted to himself duh - but it's because it's how Shinichi looks. Kaito just happens to look like him. And is pining after him in the mirror.

Like. Does that even make sense? Probably. I don't know And right after that thought, I had that image of Kaito looking at the mirror and seeing Shinichi.

AND THEN THAT ONE FIC THAT POPPED UP IN MY HEAD KEPT REVOLVING IN MY HEAD WHENEVER I THINK OF THIS BECAUSE IT IS ABSOLUTELY NAILING IT I JUST HAD TO HUNT IT DOWN AGAIN yea. Here's the link to it: the only victim of these innocent crimes (is me) by dytabytes - it's an explicit fic so 18+ only and please read the tags and summary. I guess this drawing is an ode to that fic because when I went back to reread it, the premise really hit all the right spots.

Anyways, again, Kaito and Shinichi has their similarities, and they also have differences. This is just one route I went and m quite happy with what I have.

There was going to be an exposition and conclusion that used the prompt more explicitly, featuring the crack portion, before what I have - but time and energy. I am lacking of them.

If you have read uptil here - seriously thank you and have a good day/night/whatever time is a social construct haha

#DCMKOPC24 #kaishin #kudo shinichi #kuroba kaito #I spent too much time over thinking about this #like - it's such a odd train of thought - even for me #but I really like it haha so here we are #seriously though - if you like something like this - read dytabytes “the only victim of these innocent crimes (is me)” #11/10 hit that crave - just make sure to read the tags and summary yourself - not your thing? move on #also m alive yay #ruxart