chatgpt is a threat to the symbiotic relationship between fanfic writers and their betas. we are losing our traditions. eradicate the soulless machine and ask your friend who has a full time job and 3 kids to annotate your omegaverse fanfiction like any other responsible adult.

Seeing the diminishment and erasure of the legacy of Anne McCaffrey's Dragonriders of Pern series occur in my actual lifetime is mind-boggling.

You've got people out here making youtube videos about the legacy of dragons and dragonriding in fantasy fiction without talking about the dragonriding Grand Master of SFF herself Anne McCaffrey.

This isn't some obscure thing where I'm trying to promote someone who is only kind of known because of forgotten representation. Anne McCaffrey was A HOUSEHOLD NAME when I was a kid when it comes to fantasy literature. She's the first woman to win a Hugo and to win a Nebula. In 2002 there was a TV pilot filmed for Dragonriders of Pern.

Eragon, Temeraire, Toothless, and the dragons of Fourth Wing exist because these people grew up on the blueprint set by the Pern novels. Talking about dragons and not mentioning Pern is like talking about Orcs and not mentioning Lord of the Rings.

Y'all need to read your fucking classics before you go talking like an authority on a topic. Jesus Christ.

we’re going to have to call smut ‘lemons’ again, aren’t we? 

Hey just in case anyone was on the fence about going to see Project Hail Mary in theaters or ever this is your sign to go see Project Hail Mary in theaters and also buy it physically. This movie fucks severely. It is immaculately paced, not a single second was I bored or waiting for a scene to finish up. It is incredibly charming, with strong characterization and main characters who are charismatic and flawed and incredibly compelling at every second. The plot is bananas in the best way and every second of it feels reasonable and earned. It's funny as shit, with the entire theater around me laughing out loud at least a dozen times. It's tragic and hopeful and made me at least tear up several times. And it's beautiful and that man's soulmate is a rock and it's the best fucking movie I've ever seen, I would recommend it to absolutely anyone in a heartbeat.

Go see Project Hail Mary!

Reblog if you have contributed to the 17 million fanworks posted on Archive of Our Own ♡

that ‘pakige?’ post but me, a couple hours after posting a fic, like ‘comints?’

The worst part about writing fantasy is being keenly aware that you’re writing fantasy, which means that you always have to straddle a thin three-way line between anachronism, cliche, and clunk.

Take money, for example. You can’t just have people in a fictional fantasy world walk around using Euros. You consider something generic, like ‘silver coins,’ but before you know it your world starts sounding like a shitty ren faire.

So you think about the world you’ve built and its needs and its history to come up with some unique and relevant terms. But if your terms are too unique and relevant you wind up writing “yarr, you’ll be ransomed for a hundred Trade League Silver Gyrblonks” and realize your worldbuilding is now getting in the way of basic readability.

Opera plot: Local Noble realizes that his affections for Pretty Village Girl have a rival in the form of Honest Laborer. Having read enough romances to know that a girl asked to choose between a rich man and a poor man will always pick the poor man, whereas in a love triangle between two rich men it's anyone's game, he decides that his chief object must be to elevate his rival's wealth and status as quickly as possible. What the Compte de Genre-Savie over here forgot to account for, however, was the overwhelming power of the Pygmalion Effect, and now he has to deal with watching two people he's in love with develop ever-stronger feelings for each other. Eventually all of this resolves via...I don't know.

My sister and I worked out the perfect cast for Muppet Dracula

online communities are so strange because people slip away so easily. you can be on here for years, folding people you've never met into the fabric of your daily life, and then they disappear, leaving only ghost posts scattered across tumblr behind. or their blog stays dormant, for weeks, months, years, until you're only still following them because you remember that they love sunflowers or they were kind to you when they didn't have to be or the last thing they posted was sad and raw and you still worry about them sometimes.

and sometimes they come back when you least expect it, years later, even, and there's this sudden rush of relief like there you are, there you are, even though you barely knew each other.

there's a strange kind of love to it. i don't know you and i want to hold your hand across miles and time zones and oceans. i can still see the imprint of you in this community you left. you don't think anyone will notice or care when you're gone, but we notice and we care and we wish you well.

i hope you're all okay out there. i hope the sun is shining on your face and you are breathing deeply. i miss you.

Meteor Shower, oil on panel by Mia Bergeron