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#it was the ratings that mattered

crushofdoves · 2 months

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okay so in the last few days i’ve seen at least a dozen tik toks from various hp fic writers (mostly dramione) who are taking down their work from ao3/tumblr because it’s being bound and sold on etsy without their permission.

and i’ve seen even more videos from the people who read these fics, talking about how they can’t believe people would go so far against someone’s wishes and be so disrespectful.

but then the caption says “I have the pdf, I can send it to you!"

and there are hundreds of comments asking for it.

the lack of self-awareness is insane. y’all are so unwilling to believe that you’re part of the problem.

some of these fics have been online for over 15 years and are well-known and loved by entire communities online, and they’ve been able to stay up for that long without any major issues up until the last few years when people who have no understanding of how this shit works have come out of the woodworks.

idek what to say about it anymore other than i’ve been in fandom longer than some of y’all have been alive and i have never seen anyone act this entitled. never seen anyone have less respect for the people who put this work online for free. it’s exhausting. and it’s an issue in every corner of the hp fandom bc i see it here in marauders every gd damn day.

if a fic writer takes their work down, it’s because they don’t want any more people to read it. it’s bc they don’t trust their community to respect their work. and it’s really fucking sad that this is what it’s come to.

#can’t stop thinking about the 1 star rating someone gave ywlm on goodreads #bc it doesn’t matter and who cares but also #why would you do that #anyway #fandom wank #marauders

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clockwayswrites · 9 months

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A reminder to everyone that ao3 bookmarks are public by default and everyone, including the author, can see what you write. If you're going to do a rating system or add critique, make your bookmarks private!

#always nice to see something you've worked endless hours on called 8/10 #but at least I'm not the person they rated 3/10 !#and went on about how horrible and cringe the fic was #and how they hated it #fandom matters

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sergle · 6 months

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ironically i love thrifting but ive never thought about using ebay, do you have any tips or keywords you use on it to find deals and shifty stuff/wording to look out for?

honestly I don't find ebay to be shifty for buying stuff! people are scared about using it sometimes and I think it's a little funny lol I guess the tip would be that if you search for an item with vague enough terms, you'll get some SHEIN-esque mass produced clothes muddying the results. and you know it when you see it, because those listings look like shit btw. this type of thing:

like, these are real listings and everything, and you'd get the product, but they are obviously not what you're looking for. you can ignore these, but if you want to filter them out, you can just narrow the search to SPECIFICALLY pre-owned items.

There isn't really any wording to look out for-- the only other thing would just be to make sure the stuff you get can be returned, bc sellers can specify whether or not they'll take the items back!

#aside from that you can search by brand if you're looking specifically for like. modcloth dresses #you can look for that! and obviously it lets you sort by size and color and whatever #people post pics of the clothes on a hanger or laying flat on a bed/table or on a mannequin #or they'll reupload the original product photo from the origin website lol and that's fine too. honestly sometimes prefer that.#people really optimize search terms on there so you can be vague or specific it doesn't really matter #I think pre-op I was looking for button up pajama tops. bc they're soft and have fewer buttons. and I looked exclusively for pre-owned #so they'd be cheap lol #ebay is really strict actually and if an item doesn't show up or there's a hole in a shirt or whatever you aren't left in the lurch #and the sellers really really want good ratings #sergle answers #It's a problem though actually bc I really really really like shopping for clothes. but also. I got no money #there's lots of great stuff ppl put on ebay instead of in a physical thrift store

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skyrim-dungeon-ratings · 13 days

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Ansilvund

RATING: 6/10

Here we are. The place that re-ignited my passion for Skyrim’s dungeons. A long and mildly troublesome to navigate dungeon full of draugr and mages, hellish for even a high level character. It contains no puzzle doors, nor trapped chests, but instead an interesting narrative of a bereaved wife taking it out on others after her husband was killed and ‘defiled’ in the war. Some portions of it are claustrophobic; others are fairly open. It’s definitely an oddball dungeon. If you’re playing through it, the final boss might go through the floor on death- which is annoying when your way out is a key in her pocket.

In exchange for all your effort, you get the unique weapon Ghostblade. A translucent ancient Nord sword that does 3 unblockable extra damage. In hindsight, it wasn’t a very good dungeon, nor a fun one, and the reward only does a paltry 17 damage per hit without improvements.

But the thing that got me going was how no quests led into it, and it had no greater purpose. It was just there. It didn’t even have a word wall. But someone put time and thought and care into it, made a custom character with her own storyline, and used draugr in a unique way. And furthermore, it’s one of the only dungeons I can name off the top of my head to use crush traps. Not just once, but repeatedly! And it wasn’t used in anything!

I hope that, if nothing else, my ratings will make people want to discover their own version of ‘Ansilvund’.

#dungeon ratings #ansilvund #skyrim dungeon #skyrim #mages #draugr #the elder scrolls #tesblr #elder scrolls #was it a good dungeon? not really #but there is heart in it and that what matters #the true joy of doing this. The real and true joy of this is finding spots like this #Where there is no purpose and no pressure and the dungeon is unique regardless #It doesnt matter if the dungeon is poorly done to me. Not really.#Its the experience that matters

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vonehrenfest · 7 months

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DCxDP: Dead guys stick together

(A Batman 138 fix-it)

After Bizarro becomes King of Hell he watches the mortal world and is distraught to find that his brother/best friend/sorta father-figure has been hurt very badly and is calling out for help.

Distraught, he goes to another lord of the netherworld who he's heard has access to a portal (and subjects a bit more compatible with the act of helping someone). He asks King Phantom would he please please help him protect his brother/friend, and if he does Bizarro will owe him a favor and leave his realm alone.

When the inferno had initially breached the Ghost Zone Danny had thought he was going to have to deal with f*cking Trigon again, but as it turns out that guy's been replaced and the new guy is pretty nice. After a brief cosmic battle and a clearing of misunderstandings, Danny agrees to Bizarro’s request.

While Gotham's vigilante civil war continues on its rooftops, Jason is in a cell. He is trembling, practically catatonic again, and losing his mind. He’s seeing the flaming figure of a knight on horseback appear from the shadowy far wall of his room, like some kind of fairytale nightmare version of Batman. It takes a while for Jason to realize he’s talking.

“... part of the treaty between the King of Ghosts and King of Demons, Jason Todd: Prince of Demons has been granted special status and is henceforth a protected and honorary citizen of the Infinite Realms.”

Nightmare-Bruce touches his flaming sword on Jason’s shoulder and the unearthly fire instantly engulfs him. Relief washes through Jason, and it’s so strong he nearly drops asleep.

Bruce is apologetic when everything’s over and he realizes the mistakes he’s made... but nothing really changes. (It is a relief to Bruce that no one died or was permanently injured, Jason's condition resolved itself somehow, and Bruce is normal now so really everything is fixed or at least it will be fixed.)

Just like when Jason first came back from the dead, Bruce's response makes him hurt deeper than the physical torture itself. Jason is the one who died but Bruce acts like the ghost. Singleminded, possessive, stuck in time and blind to it; bound to repeat the same cycles again and again. Jason is the ghost but he's died multiple times now, and maybe that's kind of like living and maybe that means he can move on.

Dani and Bizarro become friends, and she gets Danny's friend Tucker to somehow set up a working Wi-Fi connection in hell so they can all play games together. (He’s not going to question it. Everything about Amity Park is abnormal. They helped him and they’re good to Bizarro, that’s all that matters.)

Jason forges a fake identity for Dani. He might ask Babs to make a better one for her if she ever needs it but he doubts that's likely. He hasn’t had a living identity for years now after all, he’s an old hand at fake identities. Dani is delighted and starts attending school soon after.

Danny has good friends, and as far as Jason can tell plenty of reliable mentors in the ghost world. You wouldn’t think it, but Jason’s less worried about Danny in his role as a little godling than in his civilian life. He’s got too much on his plate- too much power yet not enough to actually resolve his real issues. Not enough to protect himself where he’s vulnerable.

The “Guys in White” that Danny likes to complain about are concerning. So is the fact that Danny’s lives with mad-scientist parents who are trying to hunt down his alternate identity. So is his ever grinding cold-war with the mayor of his town… And something else too that had been niggling at the back of Jason’s mind ever since he’d first gotten to talk to these kids.

One day Danny’s sister, Jazz asks to talk to him. He’s an adult she says. That’s true he replies. He’s capable of protecting himself and other people, she says. Well, he has the training and experience for it, he agrees. If things go wrong, would Jason let Danny or Dani stay with him- just until she becomes a legal adult? She asks. Jason’s... not the sort of person who should be taking kids in. Danny saved his life though. He won’t say no. He says of course.

Jason knew it. Everything about Amity Park is abnormal.

The town doesn’t technically exist- there are no maps that include it and even satellite imaging is corrupted where Danny describes his hometown is supposed to be. There are no references to it on the internet that couldn’t be referring to a totally different Amity Park elsewhere, and judging by the problems they occasionally had on gaming nights and the odd offhand remarks Danny and his friends sometimes made, it was looking extremely likely that all communications between Amity Park and the outside were being heavily censored. Before Jason knew it he had started a full-on investigation on the GIW, Mayor Vlad Masters, former Mayor Montez, and Axion Labs.

Hope and fear lodges itself in Danny’s chest. Jason’s an adult and he’s actually going to help.

#Batman 138 #Context for anyone unfamiliar:#This is the issue wherein Bruce injects a device into Jason that releases fear toxin when his heart rate rises in order to make him docile #I was horrified so I wrote something like a fix-it scenario and then I got ahead of myself and wrote a whole thing.#comics Bruce is really different from the animated Bruce I grew up with :(#I just want Jason to be safe and not have to be alone #this arc can go straight into Danny Jason and babs/birds of prey bringing the anti ecto laws to the JL #one of the major problems Danny faces is that he has good friends and good ghost mentors but he doesn’t have any real world adults #he knows his parents will love him no matter what but it’s clear he doesn’t trust them #he prefers them not to know even though he has faith they’ll still live him #love him I mean #dpxdc #Jason Todd adopts Danny #danny adopts jason #Gotham Wars

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desceros · 5 months

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Mr. LEON (think late 30's/early 40's) reuniting with his spouse after a long time away. It's sweet, it's silly, it's followed by absolutely nasty half-clothed, sweaty sex.

me, asks for rise leo prompts, instantly regrets it also i'm not saying this is a tactical!leo fic, but i'm also... not NOT saying it leonardo/reader, EXPLICIT, female reader, 2.6k; leo comes back and wants to smell like home again. filthy nasty smut, soft doki dokis, lame married people jokes, one (1) defiled couch

It’s been so long since you’ve seen him, you don’t think twice when you see the rustle of your curtains. Not when you’ve finally, finally trained your stupid heart into not thundering out of your chest when you see it, thinking he’s back when it’s just the breeze. Today, you hardly even glance at them as you continue watering your plants, unbothered, humming, unsuspecting.

It’s so, so typical of him to wait until now to come home.

“Boo!”

Your scream fills the apartment as you flail, pulse rocketing to the atmosphere in panic when you’re very suddenly not alone. Hands catch you mid-flinch, and it takes you a second to realize that your assailant is, in fact, perfectly safe and didn’t deserve the mighty swing of your watering can.

Except actually, yes he did, this little asshole—!

“Leo!” you wail, letting him gather you close and press him to his plastron. Your hands clutch at the edge of his keratin, face burrowing in his throat. “You fucking asshole, you scared the shit out of me!”

“Sorry, sweetheart. Couldn’t resist,” he says, his laughter still rolling at the crown of your head as one hand spreads into your lower back to press you close and the other cups your nape. “You just looked so cute, y’know? My adorable little wifey, wearing my shirt and humming in our living room.”

“Stop talking,” you mutter sulkily, wrapping your arms around his neck and swallowing the tears you feel burning at your eyes as happiness swells in your chest like a mighty wave. He always makes fun of you for crying when he comes home, and you’re already a little miffed.

Your ire dies as you feel him nuzzling behind your ear with his beak, his lungs expanding as he inhales your scent. He’d confessed to you once, a few years into your marriage, that this was his favorite part of coming home; more than the sex, more than the home-cooked meals, more than sleeping in the same bed two nights in a row. He caresses the line of your throat with his beak, stitching your natural perfume back into place in his mind, sinking into you because it’s not the walls around you that he calls home.

“…Missed you,” he murmurs, making you sigh as he brushes lovesick kisses to your shoulder.

“You were gone too long this time,” you tell him, lowering one arm to press a palm to his plastron when you feel his lips seeking more skin, letting him pull the neckline of his shirt away from your clavicle. “Thought you were the breeze, coming in.”

His mouth curves into something filthy at the dip of your throat, his hands finding your hips and giving them a squeeze. “Yeah? Funny. I plan on coming in something, all right.”

You laugh way too hard, a little mortified that after all these years you still find this clown funny at the lamest lines. Worse still is how he watches you do it, his face going stupid with naked fondness like making you laugh is the best thing he’s done all day.

“You are such an unfunny loser, oh my god,” you say, pressing your forehead to his.

“And yet you’re still laughing,” he says, his smile widening when you roll your eyes.

“I’ve been stockholmed,” you tell him, reaching up your hands to cup his beak and pull him into a kiss.

Leo has always been good with his mouth, in every way, all the years you’ve known him. His kisses are no exception; seconds into it you’re purring, the sweet friction of his mouth against yours warming you from the inside, parting on a soft sigh when a hand grips your nape and tilts you just so.

“I wanna fucking eat you alive,” he mumbles against your mouth, his tongue sliding against yours once, twice, three times before he sinks his teeth into your lower lip and tugs. You tremble, and you know he feels it as his hands go a little tighter. “Missed you.”

Your fingers find the tails of his mask, tangling in them and using them to pull his face away, just a little. He growls, but you ignore him easily. “Don’t you want to take a shower, baby? Get comfy while I cook you something to eat? You smell like work.”

“I know,” he says, his other hand sliding down to the cloth shorts that are barely visible beneath the hem of his shirt, his fingers gliding up the back to cup the curve of your ass. “And I wanna smell like you, now.”

…He gets like this, sometimes, when he comes home. Touchy. Possessive. You’ve always wondered if it has to do with how he doesn’t smell himself on you when he’s been gone, or if it’s because you start wearing his clothes like he’ll feel it wherever he is. The longer the separation, the worse he gets.

The worse he gets, the better it is.

“Yeah? You wanna smell like me?” you echo as you trail your touch along the red crescents prettying his face, playing into his turtle-brain, feeling your eyelids close as his fingers flutter on your skin. Oh, he wants it bad. “What do I smell like, handsome? I smell good?”

“So fucking good,” he groans, his huge hand releasing your nape to grip your jaw, pulling you into a kiss that’s wet and deep. It feels good, claws a mangled moan from your chest that has him mirroring the sound himself. He pulls his head back, pressing his thumb to the corner of your mouth and sliding it under your lower lip where you feel the slick mess of his kiss. “…Open,” he says, making your lip pucker under his touch.

You obey, watching his pupils dilate as they lock onto your mouth, then your tongue when you let it press against the pad of his thumb where he’s holding you open.

“Shit. You’re so hot,” he says, a wounded rumble that makes your lips curl into a coquettish smile before you wrap them around his thumb, sucking and lathing it with your tongue, pressing your teeth in and closing your eyes when you hear him moan.

“Not gonna smell much like me by staring at my mouth,” you tell him when you let him go, your hooded eyes meeting his as you smile.

“Fuck, I missed you,” he wheezes, and with three steps he’s got you splayed on your couch, the weight of him pinning you to the cushions while his mouth fucking devours you. All you can do is hold on, one hand tangling in his mask tails and the other clutching as his carapace, crushed and absolutely thrilled about it.

When he breaks the kiss to grip his hands in your shorts, pulling them down, you laugh, drawing his hungry gaze even as he doesn’t stop disrobing you.

“What?” he asks, mouth going just a little crooked in a smile of his own as you shake your head, staring at him adoringly.

“Just love you,” you tell him, shifting your legs to help him out a bit and biting down on a grin when you can finally spread them and slink your knees to either side of his hips. You slip one of your arms over your head to grip one of the throw pillows, your other trailing down your throat to entice. “C’mon, pretty boy. Let me see you drop.”

Leo maintains the stare as he straightens his spine, his hands going to his belt buckle to slide it out of place with a metal clink. The button is quick to follow, and when he unzips and slides his pants down just enough for his cloaca to glisten in the afternoon sunlight, you press your fingers to your mouth, tongue instinctively seeking contact.

“God, look at you,” you whine, your thighs rising to cup his hips and squeeze. “I wanna lick you. Come up here?”

He shakes his head, sliding two of his fingers into your open mouth and pressing on your tongue. “Later, baby. If you want a show, you’ve got, like, thirty seconds for it.”

Moaning, you soak his fingers with your spit, watching with hazy eyes as he brings them to his cloaca and slides in to the knuckle. He’s always rougher with himself than you are with him, even though he’s told you again and again he prefers it when you’re the one fingering him.

He makes pretty little gasping moans as he fingers himself hard, his arm flexing and drawing your hungry gaze. He’s gotten so god damned big over the years, making you feel small every time he does something that highlights the difference. It feels good, makes you feel kept, protected. So long as Leonardo Hamato draws breath, no harm will ever come to you, a promise he has the strength to keep.

“Fuck, fuck,” he grunts, eyes squeezing shut as the slick sounds of his fingers pumping in and out of himself get wetter. It’s a familiar sound that makes you ache, craving the thick cock you know is about to slide out like it’s air.

“You’re so fucking pretty, Leo,” you babble in praise, knowing he likes to hear it, that you like telling him. “Handsome as fuck. God, I can’t believe you’re mine, that you let me see you like this—”

“Shit,” he hisses, pulling his fingers out of you and pressing his cloaca to your cunt, his wet fingers gripping at your hips as he rubs your slick against his. “You can’t talk like that, baby, I’m gonna—”

He cuts himself off on a low groan, his hips rolling against yours and his tail pressing hard between your thighs to garner the friction. It feels so good, so fucking good, your skin burning hot with each messy glide of him against you. Your head rolls, fingers gripping in the pillow behind your head and back arching to try and writhe closer.

“Leo,” you keen, breath heaving when he releases his death grip on the back of the couch to plant his hand by your head, his back arching over you and blocking everything else out.

“Don’t come, don’t you dare come,” he hisses, lips curled into a bit of a snarl. “Not until I’m inside, understand?”

Eyes wet, you nod, choking back the shimmer on your skin that builds as he keeps rubbing cruelly. With one particularly good roll of his hip, you snatch a hand to his bicep, trembling. “Stop, stop—!”

He pauses, letting you claw away from the brink to obey. Sucking in a long breath, you open your eyes and see that he’s staring at you like he’s gone mad.

“Okay?” he asks, voice fucked out, and you nod, whining when he resumes rubbing his cloaca against you, your eyes falling shut and head lolling to the side as you start the burning process all over again.

“Feels so good, Leo,” you breathe, skin glowing when you feel him duck in close and glide his tongue up the side of your neck. You’re soaked all over with sweat and slick, every muscle in your body trembling from taut desire that’s just shy of too-much, leaving you delirious and stupid.

With a hitched breath, Leo reaches between you, fingers preparing you for the familiar penetration you want more than anything else. With a hiss, his body goes taut, his cock dropping and sliding inside like his katana into its sheath; like you were made for him, perfectly molded, expertly designed.

“God, fuck,” he wheezes, his forearms framing your face as he leans down and captures your mouth in a kiss that breaks on a low moan. He pumps his hips against yours slowly, shaking with each breath that has him bottoming out where he belongs. “You feel so—I missed you.”

Floating with pleasure, you cup his nape, wrapping your legs around him as best as you can to pull him deeper, needing to feel him in your throat. Your hands find the back of his head, sliding easily on his rough, sweat-slick skin, seeking his kiss and finding it. “Oh, Leo, love you, love you so much.”

He marries his mouth to yours as he fucks in in in, feeling a bit like he never pulls out for how full he leaves you. Every neuron in your body stands at attention, taking note of his weight crushing you, the smell of his salty skin, the taste of his tongue as it curls against your own.

“Look at me, look at me when you come, pretty girl,” he chokes, because he knows your body better than you do and can tell you’re close before you feel it. You open your eyes and meet his, untying his blue mask and letting it slide to your chest right as you feel your orgasm rising.

“Leo, gonna come,” you whimper, watching as he nods, one hand finding your cheek, his thumb tracing under your eyes where they’re wet.

“Let go, sweetheart. Let me feel it.”

Like you do with everything else, you obey and come. It’s a long, wrenching thing, the pleasure washing over you like waves of a mighty ocean as he keeps moving, prolonging it, intensifying it. On and on it goes, your body awash with ecstasy and Leo, always Leo, there to hold you and let you fall.

“Please,” you gasp, clenching at his carapace, begging him to meet you here in the glow. “Leo, please—”

His hand drops down to your throat, fingers ever so slightly curling around as his hips thrust a little harder, the wet sounds of your hips meeting loud in your ears now that you’re listening for it. It’s filthy, his mouth hanging open and eyes going wild as they gaze at you like you’re the best thing he’s ever seen.

With a wounded sound he comes, his forehead dropping to your shoulder and hand going a little too-tight on your throat as he fills you over and over again, each hot thread coating and claiming in equal measure. You let one hand grip the back of his wrist where he’s choking you, crushing him in harder as he groans and presses into you even further as he finishes, watching as the edges of your vision go a little hazy before he releases you and lets you suck in a gasp of air.

After a few moments of catching your breath, he picks up his head, his beak wrinkling a bit as he stretches his leg out with a hiss. “Gah, fuck, we’re getting too old for couch fucking. Made a fucking mess.”

“Never too old for couch fucking,” you rasp, causing his eyes to fall to where there’s a mark on your throat in the shape of his hand. He licks his lips, and you feel his cock give an interested twitch. “Oh? You gonna make good on that?”

“Too old for back-to-back marathon fucking,” he pouts, though he does arch his hips once in a good sport try that makes your skin light up a bit. “Gimme like, fifteen. I’ll eat you out while we wait, then we can do something about it.”

You raise an imperious eyebrow. “Fifteen minutes of you eating me out? You? Leonardo Hamato? Only fifteen? I can’t believe an imposter of my husband is here when I was so sure it was him.”

He grins, a boyish thing that makes him look younger and captures your heart all over again. “…Yeah, okay. Let’s be ambitious and say half an hour.”

You settle into the couch, waiting for his cock to retreat back into his cloaca and spending the meantime trailing your fingers along the back of his nape, sighing out in delight.

“…I missed you, too,” you tell him, watching as his face smooths out and every concern flies away like a butterfly startled by the breeze because he loves you so, so much and you know it. Then, realizing you hadn’t said it yet, “…Welcome home, Leo.”

“Yeah,” he echoes, bending down and nuzzling his beak against your temple, inhaling deeply with a smile. “I’m home.”

#tmnt #rise #my fic #ask tag #THERE WERE. SO MANY GOOD OPTIONS. Y'ALL SO DELIVERED OH MY GOD. esp the one w the body shot You Know Who You Are #i'm going to write all of them tbh. but this one. oh my god. i could not resist the siren song of dilf leo.#anyway wow. thanks for helping me try to get leo out of my system. it didn't fucking work!!! but we tried and that's all that matters :)#leonardo/reader #rating: e

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