And Gem without hesitation agreeing is amazing

Something about hanging out with Grian brings out the goblin in Gem. Not that she's not mischievous or chaotic on her own but it's a different brand with Grian.

There was one person? Who tried but they were oddly polite about it like they asked me if I wanted to see it. Like? Is it a tumblr thing? Is there a consent rule here that even the lowest of the low follow???

I have seen the odd comment about fics being put on there before, but I never looked much into it until now. Since when did people think that this is okay? To review fics like they are an £11.70 hardback book they purchased from Waterstones and then decided they didn't like, even though it had a pretty cover? They are created for the author, no one else, and the option to close the tab is ALWAYS there. Nobody is forcing you to read it, so your unnecessary comments are just that. Unnecessary!

I am honestly trying to work out whether the people who upload/review/hate on fics are completely oblivious to the effect this has on authors, of if they simply don't care? Like honestly, I am one of the luckier ones in this aspect but even what I experienced was enough for me to take my fic down and my motivation to edit and get it back up has literally obliterated. Every time I open the document, I just can't be fucked, and it has affected my desire to write in general as well as my mental health.

So genuine question - do you realise what you are doing to the authors behind the fics that you are shitting on? Does it bring you joy to make them feel like this, or are you genuinely oblivious and think that this is okay???

Everything that has already happened, combined with everything today, makes me question if I even want to keep fics up, let alone stay in this fandom. And i would not be surprised if every other author out there feels exactly the same.

   papers lay scattered across the desk. coffee 𝑐𝑜𝑜𝑙𝑠 in a mug; blue eyes are glued to a microscope. he watches the bacteria wriggle and pulsate against the walls of the petri dish. his eyes follow the 𝙱𝚁𝙰𝚅𝙴 𝙵𝙴𝚆 who branch into the middle, writhing their way across the small expanse of their enclosure. he watches it all, notes their movements in a NEAT hand.

   he was early. there’s another microscope nearby, lens trained on an identical petri dish. there’s enough water in the kettle for another coffee, or tea; the water is still hot. he didn’t know whether his partner would prefer tea or coffee. he leaves it up to her.

   a door 𝐒𝐋𝐀𝐌𝐒. shoes scuff against the linoleum. he pushes his chair back from the desk, spins around to face the doorway; he scoops up his mug, raises it to his lips as she walks through the door. 

   “ hi. ”

   the mug lowers. a 𝒃𝒐𝒚𝒊𝒔𝒉 grin flickers onto his features.