Hello

My name is Mango (Snake from the Haus of Salt) and I write

[katiehavok]

Affirmations for fanfic authors

It’s okay to take a break. - We all need time to recharge, and your fans will still be there when you get back!

It’s okay to go from fandom to fandom. - Nobody is going to criticize you for following your muse, and if they do, then you know who not to associate with in the future!

It’s okay to have a niche. - If smut is where it’s at, then write smut. If you’re all about the fluff, then schmoop away. If angst is what does it for you, then invest in tissues. Nobody has the right to tell you that you should be doing something else if that isn’t what interests you!

It’s okay to be critical of your own work. - Just don’t allow yourself to become so self-deprecating that you freeze!

It’s okay to ask for help. - If you’re unsure of a trope, concept, fact or universe, reach out to your circle of friends. Chances are, they’ll be more than happy to help you because they want to see you succeed!

It’s okay to ignore criticism. - Constructive criticism is only constructive if it helps you. If someone says something that doesn’t assist or improve you in any way, then please feel free to ignore whatever nugget they are imparting, because chances are good they don’t have the best of intentions for you!

It’s okay to stop writing all together. - Your fans will miss you (and chances are good you have way more than you realize,) but sometimes, you just gotta do you!

It’s okay to write with whatever method works for you. - Long writing marathons where you bang out 12,000 words in one day? Great! Linear, dry style that means you occassionally get stuck because you can’t figure out this scene, but it’s all worth it in the end? Rad! Piecemeal work that you thread together at the end? Fabulous! As long as it works for you, there is no wrong way to write!

It’s okay to have fun. - I think this goes without saying, no? But it seems that sometimes, authors need permission. So consider this permission to wile the hell out, and enjoy the ride!

[marciaillust]

There’s only one thing worse than coming up with names for your ocs ,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,it’s coming up with their surnames

[mechanicalriddle]

dude have i got the thing for you

[onlyawfulrpgideas]

I don’t know how these are being generated but they are so, so good

[sheikofthesheikah]

Injury angst for writing dummies.

Hospitals and injury are always such a staple of angst fics, but 9 times out of 10 the author has clearly never been in an emergency situation and the scenes always come off as over-dramatized and completely unbelievable. So here’s a crash course on hospital life and emergencies for people who want authenticity. By someone who spends 85% of her time in a hospital. 

Emergency Departments/Ambulances.

Lights and sirens are usually reserved for the actively dying. Unless the person is receiving CPR, having a prolonged seizure or has an obstructed airway, the ambulance is not going to have lights and sirens blaring. I have, however, seen an ambulance throw their lights on just so they can get back to the station faster once. Fuckers made me late for work.

Defibrillators don’t do that. You know, that. People don’t go flying off the bed when they get shocked. But we do scream “CLEAR!!” before we shock the patient. Makes it fun.

A broken limb, surprisingly, is not a high priority for emergency personnel. Not unless said break is open and displaced enough that blood isn’t reaching a limb. And usually when it’s that bad, the person will have other injuries to go with it.

Visitors are not generally allowed to visit a patient who is unstable. Not even family. It’s far more likely that the family will be stuck outside settling in for a good long wait until they get the bad news or the marginally better news. Unless it’s a child. But if you’re writing dying children in your fics for the angst factor, I question you sir. 

Unstable means ‘not quite actively dying, but getting there’. A broken limb, again, is not unstable. Someone who came off their motorbike at 40mph and threw themselves across the bitumen is. 

CPR is rarely successful if someone needs it outside of hospital. And it is hard fucking work. Unless someone nearby is certified in advanced life support, someone who needs CPR is probably halfway down the golden tunnel moving towards the light. 

Emergency personnel ask questions. A lot of questions. So many fucking questions. They don’t just take their next victim and rush off behind the big white doors into the unknown with just a vague ‘WHAT HAPPENED? SHE HIT HER HEAD?? DON’T WORRY SIR!!!’ They’re going to get the sir and ask him so many questions about what happened that he’s going to go cross eyed. And then he’s going to have to repeat it to the doctor. And then the ICU consultant. And the police probably. 

In a trauma situation (aka multiple injuries (aka car accident, motorbike accident, falling off a cliff, falling off a horse, having a piano land on their head idfk you get the idea)) there are a lot of people involved. A lot. I can’t be fucked to go through them all, but there’s at least four doctors, the paramedics, five or six nurses, radiographers, surgeons, ICU consultants, students, and any other specialities that might be needed (midwives, neonatal transport, critical retrieval teams etc etc etc). There ain’t gonna be room to breathe almost when it comes to keeping someone alive.

Emergency departments are a life of their own so you should probably do a bit of research into what might happen to your character if they present there with some kind of illness or injury before you go ahead and scribble it down.

Wards

Nurses run them. No seriously. The patient will see the doctor for five minutes in their day. The nurse will do the rest. Unless the patient codes.

There is never a defibrillator just sitting nearby if a patient codes. 

And we don’t defibrillate every single code. 

If the code does need a defibrillator, they need CPR.

And ICU. 

They shouldn’t be on a ward. 

There are other people who work there too. Physiotherapists will always see patients who need rehab after breaking a limb. Usually legs, because they need to be shown how to use crutches properly.

Wards are separated depending on what the patient’s needs are. Hospitals aren’t separated into ICU, ER and Ward. It’s usually orthopaedic, cardiac, neuro, paediatric, maternity, neonatal ICU, gen surg, short stay surg, geriatric, palliative…figure out where your patient is gonna be. The care they get is different depending on where they are.

ICU.

A patient is only in ICU if they’re at risk of active dying. I swear to god if I see one more broken limb going into ICU in a fic to rank up the angst factor I’m gonna shit. It doesn’t happen. Stop being lazy. 

Tubed patients can be awake. True story. They can communicate too. Usually by writing, since having a dirty great tube down the windpipe tends to impede ones ability to talk. 

The nursing care is 1:1 on an intubated patient. Awake or not, the nurse is not gonna leave that room. No, not even to give your stricken lover a chance to say goodbye in private. There is no privacy. Honestly, that nurse has probably seen it all before anyway. 

ICU isn’t just reserved for intubated patients either. Major surgeries sometimes go here post-op to get intensive care before they’re stepped down. And by major I mean like, grandpa joe is getting his bladder removed because it’s full of cancer. 

Palliative patients and patients who are terminal will not go to ICU. Not unless they became terminally ill after hitting ICU. Usually those ones are unexpected deaths. Someone suffering from a long, slow, gradually life draining illness will probably go to a general ward for end of life care. They don’t need the kind of intensive care an ICU provides because…well..they’re not going to get it??

Operations.

No one gets rushed to theatre for a broken limb. Please stop. They can wait for several days before they get surgery on it. 

Honestly? No one gets ‘rushed’ to theatre at all. Not unless they are, again, actively dying, and surgery is needed to stop them from actively dying. 

Except emergency caesarians. Them babies will always get priority over old mate with the broken hip. A kid stuck in a birth canal and at risk of death by pelvis is a tad more urgent than a gall stone. And the midwives will run. I’ve never seen anyone run as fast as a midwife with a labouring woman on the bed heading to theatres for an emergency caesar.

Surgery doesn’t take as long as you think it does. Repairing a broken limb? Two hours, maybe three tops. Including time spent in recovery. Burst appendix? Half an hour on the table max, maybe an hour in recovery. Caesarian? Forty minutes or so. Major surgeries (organs like kidneys, liver and heart transplants, and major bowel surgeries) take longer. 

You’re never going to see the theatre nurses. Ever. They’re like their own little community of fabled myth who get to come to work in their sweatpants and only deal with unconscious people. It’s the ward nurse who does the pick up and drop offs. 

Anyway there’s probably way, way more that I’m forgetting to add but this is getting too long to keep writing shit. The moral of the story is do some research so you don’t look like an idiot when you’re writing your characters getting injured or having to be in hospital. It’s not Greys Anatomy in the real world and the angst isn’t going to be any more intense just because you’re writing shit like it is. 

Peace up.

[artificial-mango]

Slam - Mango (Viadore ish)

A/N: okay so it’s been a while and I have a more fluffy Viadore in my docs that just needs to be edited and shit but yeah I hop you guys like this and feel free to hit me up at theartificialmango which is my main and Genuinequeens which is my shared one with Ruby, Lex, Ame and Köhler. Oh which reminds me this is sort of for Lex and I’m sorry. ENJOY

TRIGGER WARNINGS: abuse, severe abuse, literal abuse I’m not kidding.

Adore was crying. That much was evident. Ugly tears were cascading down her face. But Violet didn’t give<i> a fuck.</i> Violet didn’t care when Adore started to hiccup between her sobs, she didn’t care when Adore rubbed her nose along her sleeve and she especially didn’t care when Adore started begging her to stay.

“Please Vi, please don’t leave. Please, I… I don’t think I can survive without you anymore.”

A beat of silence.

“Violet please How do you expect me to live-” Adore’s sentence was cut short by the slam of Violets suitcase. Her hands were shaking and quiet tears were sliding down her face. She didn’t care how but she needed out.

“Adore. I’m leaving. Get over it.”

Violet zipped her suitcase closed and turned, only to be met by Adore’s pleading eyes. She grabbed Violet’s wrists and clutched them to her body in what Violet <i>presumed</i> was supposed to be an act of love but all Violet could think of was scorching red marks, drunk screaming and angry slashes. Her eyes were wide and staring at Adore’s face in fear while the blonde rambled on about commitment and sacrifice.

“Sacrifice? Are you serious? I have sacrificed most of my adult life to be with you, Adore. I wasn’t the one who decided to break our commitment by bringing someone else into our bed. You destroyed this relationship the minute her name slipped from your mouth.”

“But you ;forgave me! You forgave me, Violet. Forgiveness is key to a healthy relationship!”

That was the final straw for Violet. She yanked her wrists from Adore’s grasp and shoved her back. Adore fell to her knees and the look in her eyes only fuelled Violet more.

“And when that’s not enough? What then? Slapping me across the face, throwing me down the stairs, breaking my ribs? Are they key to a healthy relationship?” Violet was seething, taking large breaths in and out and angrily wiping away tears. Adore’s mouth opened and closed, silimiar to that of a fish, and Violet couldn’t stand to look at her anymore.

“I told you I was sorry, Violet. I apologised.” Adore whispered quietly, her hands shaking and her eyes downcast. Violet scoffed, making Adore flinch.

“Sorry? Sorry? Oh. That makes it so much better. Yes, I forgive you then. I forgive everything you’ve ever done. Why don’t I go put dinner on and when I get back, you can break my pelvis.” Adore remained quiet.

“Oh no wait, you already did that, didn’t you? How much have you had to drink today Adore? Are you going to leave a goodbye memory on my skin?” Adore slowly rose to her feet. There was truth in Violet’s words. Whenever Adore drank, she became someone else, something else. But she couldn’t help it, alcoholism ran in her family. Adore averted her eyes, momentarily landing on today’s pile of discarded empty beer bottles that lay beside the bed that they once shared.

“Violet..”

“I’ve already called Michelle. She’ll be here any minute. Don’t even try to convince me that you’ll change, Adore. The amount of times I have believed you.”

A strangled laugh left Violet’s lips and it only wedged the knife deeper into Adore’s heart. Violet turned back to her suitcase and zipped it closed. Adore’s blood began to boil at her words.

“You… You ungrateful bitch.” She yelled, grabbing Violet by the hair and yanking her to the ground. Violet’s hands flew to her scalp but she knew better than to scream out.

“It’s because you’re having an affair with that asshole assistant of yours, isn’t it? What’s his name.. Danny? Lesbian my ass, I made you who you are today. You should be thanking me for the shit I put you through. You wouldn’t be ‘Violet Chachki’ without me. You’d just be another whore living on tips from a strip joint!” Adore let out a frustrated kick into Violet’s ankle, a sickening ‘crack’ echoing around the room

Adore released Violet’s hair with an aggravated sigh and rubbed a hand across her own face. Violet stayed cool, knowing the only way out of this situation was to remain calm and not make any decisions that could land her in hospital, if not the morgue. She slowly got to her feet and edged her way around Adore, back to her suitcase. If only she could just…

“We could make it work. I still love you, Vi. We have to make it work. Please..” Adore reached for Violet and the brunette launched into action, quickly swinging her suitcase and smacking Adore head on, knocking the blonde to the ground, hitting it with a distinct ‘thud’. She only had mere seconds before Adore would come to and show Violet just how sorry she would be. Violet grabbed her phone and suitcase before fleeing the room, flinging the bedroom door open and slamming it shut, locking it. Violet’s breath was laboured, her hair a mess and her ankle was throbbing with pain.

Limping down the stairs as fast as she could with the suitcase and phone in hand, she nearly fell when she heard angry thuds land against her bedroom door. Adore was awake and fuck, she was not happy. Violet made it down the stairs and texted Michelle a quick 'u near?’, grabbing her coat and throwing it over her arm. Her ankle was screaming at her to stop and take a break but she couldn’t. She had angered Adore more in the past 10 minutes than she had in their entire marriage, and angry drunk Adore was the worst type of Adore.

Unlocking the front door to the house, she hobbled out and locked if after her, receiving a 'right around corner shud be a min’ text from Michelle. Well, Sharon technically. Michelle wasn’t stupid enough to text and drive and she had already been picking Sharon up from AA, agreeing to swing by and collect Violet herself. Dragging her suitcase down the driveway, her mind was flooded with thoughts. This would mean a divorce. This would mean the return of Bianca Del fucking Rio, Adore’s lawyer and total asshole. She had gotten Adore off of one case of battery and assault already and Violet feared what would happen this time.

THUD. THUD. THUD.

Violet swung around quickly, facing up to her bedroom window. Adore was manically slamming her hand against the window, screaming words that were landing on deaf ears. She was huffing and her shoulders were moving up and down at a rapid rate. She pointed a finger to Violet, and narrowed her eyes, giving her a look that meant a thousand things. 'This isn’t over’, 'You’re dead to me’, 'You’re dead full stop’, 'You’re going to regret this’. Violet’s heart was in her throat when Adore backed away from the window.

Violet had been foolish enough to think it was over.

Her vanity box came crashing through the window, smashing it to pieces and breaking at her feet, as if it was there to personally tell her she was fucked. The sound of a car registered in Violet’s ears but all she could focus on was Adore as she climbed through the window into the balcony and started to climb down. Everything happened so fast.

The screeching of tires.

“Vi, come on! What’s wrong- OH SHIT.” It only registered to Sharon that Violet was in trouble the moment she saw Adore climbing down the side of the house, hands red with blood. “Shit. SHIT. Michelle keep the car in drive. Fuck!” Sharon practically kicked open the car door and wretched Violet’s suitcase from her hand, throwing it quickly into the boot of the car. Time was essential and if it ran out, God only knows what Adore would do to Violet. After the boot was successfully closed, Sharon basically shoved Violet into the back of the car, not even bothering to put her seatbelt on before barreling into the car herself, shouting at Michelle to drive. Adore had only reached them as they sped off, a bloody hand mark left on the back of the car. Violet turned in the seat to look at what used to be the love of her life. Then she looked at her hands, shaking, her ankle, throbbing and she raised a hand to her head, it coming back sticky and wet. Yes Adore used to be the love of her life but not anymore, and never again.

~Frickfrickfrickfrickfrick~

The day had finally come. It was the day Violet Delano was about to become single. Divorced life had never been so appealing. Michelle had pulled some strings and somehow managed to get a close friend of hers to judge the court hearing. Judge RuPaul, a tall powerful black woman that didn’t take shit from anyone. Unlike any other judge, she was the one to make the final call, not the jurors. Bianca had come to see Violet before, claiming that even though she was practically Satan, she wasn’t cruel enough to defend a clearly guilty Adore. “As someone who has faced domestic violence first hand, I could never defend someone who was so clearly guilty. Adore’s new lawyer, Mr. Rice, is one of the worst in the business. If you need anything, please don’t hesitate. I know I’ve been a bitch but if there’s anything I can do…” Holding out her card, Bianca had smiled at her and left.

Violet had been so nervous that she had been ready 4 hours early. “Don’t worry,” Michelle had told her, “we’re gonna get this bitch.” Violet was ashamed to admit it, but even after all the crap Adore put her through, the brunette still felt a rush when she saw her face. It had been an emotional trial, both sides presenting picture evidence and worded statements. Sharon had testified, Michelle played her part as the tough bitch lawyer and eventually, Violet won. RuPaul had glared at Adore.

“I sure do hope orange is your colour, now get the fuck out of my courtroom. Now”

After all of the legal things had been settled and Violet was finally able to leave the courthouse, she breathed a deep breath in and despite the paparazzi and journalists that surrounded her, she came to a conclusion.

She felt safe.

She felt like herself.

Most importantly, she felt free and she’d be damned to let anyone else take her independence away from her ever again.

[musterniillustrates]

is anything as pure as a mango. is anything as humble and good and forthright as a mango, i ask you.

[llauraprepon]

[froginakettle]

fanfiction writers be like

[otpprompts]

Person A is a poet and Person B is an internet friend of theirs. A sends B poems whenever they write them and they send B a love poem one day. B jokingly says that they’re jealous of whoever it was directed at, not knowing that it’s them. Whether or not A tells them is up to you.

[best-of-memes]