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Motivation
Each character, no matter their significance to the story, wants something. Their actions and presentation are in the interest of their end-goal. So, for each character, the most important questions you must be able to answer for every character are 1.) What do they want? 2.) What do they think they need? 3.) What do they actually need?
Steps to turn safari tumblr into a separate app on iOS
Wanted to put together a guide for less phone-savvy people (like me) who want to avoid this batshit tag censoring by using tumblr on safari instead of the app. Less gooooo
1) Open up tumblr.com in safari and click on the little export button at the bottom of the screen
2) Click the âAdd to home screenâ button
3) Click âAddâ and youâll have a new icon on your Home Screen that will open the safari version
Conveniently, the icon will have the default tumblr logo and even opens fairly seamlessly into what looks like itâs own app (one that you can now tag posts properly with again!)
Dark Academia (photos of white kids in fancy uniforms at british private schools/redbrick universities)
Cottagecore (loads of photos of upper/middle class british gardens, houses, and villages)
British period dramas (literally just members of the gentry/nobility wafting around looking elegant)
Things the americanised internet thinks is funny and/or gross:
the british working class accent (notably the Multicultural London English dialect)
'chavs'
any british poverty food - baked beans on toast, cheap cut pies, chip butties, etc
pretty much any british regional accent (i know you cant understand louis from one direction pls just shut up about it. the upper class monopolises the media and arts so naturally you're more used to their accent)
when british people have bad teeth (dental care is not covered by the NHS and many working-class people cannot afford care out-of-pocket)
that the national dish is a curry. even though its a specific dish created (or at the very least heavily adapted) in the UK by the British Bangladeshi community? I lose my shit over this one. Like seriously the way you guys talk sometimes its like you think 'british' is synonomous with 'white'. You can't just erase entire communities to fit your narrative. I won't get too much into the racial aspects of all of these points but it's important to note jamaican, african, and south asian immigrants have brought a lot to british working class culture specifically. Like... you guys think its bad that they continued to enjoy their own cuisine and share it with the people around them once they got here? I swear some of you go so far with cultural appropriation you come right back around to 'everyone should go back where they came from'.
I understand most of you aren't surrounded by the cultural framework to understand how classist you sound talking about modern britain, but you are not immune to british propaganda just because you do not live here, in fact you're probably less immune as you (somewhat understandably) do not have the cultural knowledge to notice the red flags. But ignorance isn't a good enough reason to propogate classism thoughtlessly. I'm not saying you can't engage with elements of cottagecore or dark academia, but you definitely can't put repackaged aspects of middle and upper class british culture on a pedestal and then shit on all the aspects associated with the working class its so blatantly fucked up. Theres a good reason a lot of British people get so touchy about strangers on the internet mocking the rhotic british accents, americans just don't understand it because class-specific accent privilege doesn't exist within your cultural framework in the same way. You clearly all decided British people can't take a joke, but honestly it's just you're being a lot more offensive than you realise.
Do you not see how deeply wrong it is that so many of you seem to enjoy the superior feeling you get from trampling another culture? You guys will straight-up whitewash britain just so you don't feel guilty about it. You clearly think you're punching up but you're not, being british does not ensure affulence or 'whiteness' any more than being american does, and whenever any of you goes to say anything about Britain in a non-historical context all that comes out is pure classist ignorance as you leave middle/upper class britain absoloutely untouched. So educate yourselves, please. Working-class americans have more in common with working-class brits than they do anyone above them on the social ladder in the US.
The American replies are completely missing the point. We all know that America has a form of class system, as well as differently perceived accents. This is the case for basically every country around the world. What you donât understand is that the class system in Britain is extremely prominent. It is essentially the root cause of nearly all of our current problems and inequality. The RP accent is not just an accent that comes from good education, or the area you grew up in, it is a tool that has been specifically created in order to divide people, a tool that has been created to separate, oppress and differentiate.
Living in Britain, not a single day goes by when our class system isnât prominent. Every time the news is turned on, we see the country controlled by those who were rich enough and privileged enough to obtain the correct education and the correct accent. Every day, we are bombarded with propaganda about the âsuperiorityâ of the RP accent and the middle/upper class lifestyle. Every TV show I watched as a child on the BBC had a majority of middle class actors/voice actors with the RP accent. It is literally drilled into the heads of British children that the RP accent and the middle/upper class is superior.
A good example is my father, who comes from a working-class background, yet he was lucky enough to go to a private school, and as a result he obtained the RP accent, and is now privileged and respected wherever he goes. The working class accent, which is basically every accent in the UK that isnât the RP accent is looked down upon by those who are oppressing the nation and is seen as inferior. Half the country is locked out of good education, half the country is told from the day theyâre born that their accent and their class is inferior. Yes, Americans also experience class and accent prejudice, but how many times a day are working class Americans specifically told by their teachers, their TV, their news outlets, their peers, and their family that their class and accent is inferior? Because for British people it is every. single. day.
I know that America understands what a class system is like, and the privileges that come with having certain accents. What you donât understand is the extent that it controls life in Britain, and how much of our history has been dictated by it, and how many people are suffering daily because of it.
And I could go into a full history lesson, I could go into how every minority in the UK, whether it be racial minorities or the LGBTQ+ community is effected by the class system, and perhaps I will at a later date. But any American coming into the replies hitting me with âwe have a class system too, we understand.â No, you donât. Iâm sorry, but you donât.
My father left school at 15. He managed to get a job in a shop, something that was outrageously and fantastically middle class to do, but the shop owner told him he could only have the job if he lost his accent. He was told to speak as though he was singing.
Where I grew up, you could literally hear the class divide - the working class kids had Welsh accents. They were considered the stupid ones, who would never amount to anything and could barely read.
Audio: Two guinea pigs munching away on broccoli. One of them picks up its broccoli and bonks the other on the head with it, with a cartoon sound effect
tw/Â off-screen implied character deaths, descriptions of blood and violence, a brief line about implied suicidal thoughts towards the end.Â
âHigh in the Halls of the Kings who were gone, Jenny would dance with her ghosts...â
In some way, deep down, Damian always knew that when he would die, he would die alone. Itâd began as a small voice that had steadily grown surer as the years went by. Turning from uneasy anxiety to grim inevitability.
He had told himself that heâd resigned himself to it, that was he was prepared. But as Damian limps down the cold stone stairs, down into Fatherâs old ruined cave, clutching his bloody side, steadily bleeding out, he knows that was a lie.
Outside above ground, Hell had come to Gotham. Parademons, creatures of Darkseid had come to raze the Batmanâs city to the ground, one final dishonour after the Justice Leagueâs annihilation. With no more heroes to defend it, Gotham had been left to burn.
Heâd tried everything, played every trick he could think of to save the last piece of his home, but it hadnât been enough. He should have stayed at the centre of the chaos, regardless of how he would be certainly overwhelmed. Stayed and try to save as many as he possibly could have. That is what Father would have done. He would have been disappointed to see him nowâŚ
The echoes of dragging footsteps are too loud, too resoundingly empty as he climbs the metal stairs up to the baloney where the suit displays are. There were no bats left living in the cave now, only ghosts and memories.
The latter comes to Damian in waves. Father, with strong arms and broad back, towering larger than life.  Alfredâs cool hand soothing his fevered forehead. The smell of cheap tobacco that clung to everything Todd wore. The way Stephanie hugged her sides and threw her head back when she laughed. RichardâŚ
Longing, more agonising and terrible then any of his wounds, swells within him. He told himself that he should have stayed, stayed to complete the mission, to be a hero he was taught to be. But at the bones of it? He was no hero. He was selfish, and a coward, andâ andâŚ
And he just wanted to see his family again.
Damian staggers past the Robin memorial cases, his hand leaving a dark red smear behind it as he leans heavily against the display glass for support. Every breath is a battle now. He can feel his ribs rattling in their cage, his pulse sluggishly pumping in his ears. Heâs forced to continuously swallow back blood to keep his airways clear.
Past the Robin cases, he makes it. There between Red Hood and Batman case, is Nightwingâs. A violent shudder has his knees buckle and send him crashing to the foot of it. He manages to twist his body as he goes down, collapsing with his back against the chilled glass instead of going face first into it.
Propping himself up with a groan of pain, he closes his eyes for a long exhale. Swallows back more blood, his throat gives a clogging gulp. Everything was beginning to go numb.
Just give him this, he prays to whoeverâs listening. Just one moment for himself to grieve, to say goodbye.
But he can already hear them coming, chittering and snarling as they rip the clock entrance off its hinges. They spill into the cave like a rat plague, red eyes and fangs drooling with hunger to finish off the kill.
Damianâs gaze drops down at his sword by his side, still somehow grasped in his hand. He didnât have to die screaming, he could spare himself that torment. He knew how to make it quick.
But looking up, he sees heâs not alone. They are there with him now. Father, Alfred, Todd, Stephanie, Duke, Drake, Gordon. They all look at him, waiting.
Damian forces himself to his feet. For them. He grips his trembling sword tighter.
âŚ
His family watches as he fights until the end.
Even as heâs thrown off the platform and into the mass of writhing demons, even as Damian feels himself being ripped apart, his eyes search for Richard with desperation.
He finds him, standing up on the baloney between Father and Alfred, looking down at him with them. Not old and tired like the last time Damian had seen him, but as how he was the first. Young, beautiful. Nightwingâs blue phoenix bird emblazoned on his chest, drawing him in like a beacon.
âI missed you.â
Richardâs face is sad, but still he smiles for Damian, teary eyes creasing the same way they used to.
âI know, kiddo. Me too.â
As the world grows dark and his heart slows, Damian holds it for a beat longer.
And then, he lets himself goâŚ
'High in the Halls of the Kings who are gone,
Jenny would dance with her ghosts.
The ones she had lost, and the ones she had found,
Leave a comment! Really, it can be as short as â<3â or âbonus kudos!â and hereâs the fun thing: thereâs no limit on how many comments you can leave! you can leave a â<3â comment every time you reread a fic, I canât think of any authors who wouldnât be excited by that!
So I have read several people complaining that they can't be expected to know the "unwritten rules" of fandom. So here's what I wish people knew:
Fanfiction is fiction.
Fictional people are not real.
Fictional people do not have rights.
Fictional people cannot be abused.
Reading or writing about something does not mean the desire to do or support it in the real world.
If I find art upsetting/triggering/disgusting/outraging/unpleasant/squicky/distressing/offensive, it is on me not to read it, not the creators and hosts to remove it.
Curate your own experience. The back buttons exist for a reason.
If you don't trust yourself to do that, get someone you trust to do it for you.
Fandom is an adult space. Adults create and own and host fandom spaces. If minors want to participate, then the onus is on them and their parents/guardians/trusted adults to ensure they participate appropriately, not on strange adults to stop being adults.
You often don't know the assault status or mental health status or neurotype or race or nationality or religion or gender or sexuality or age of a creator or consumer, and they do not have to disclose to you to justify their fantasy.
AO3 is not a safe space. It is not intended to be a safe space. Proceed accordingly.
Just because you don't like something or find it offensive doesn't mean it is a "problem" that "has to be dealt with".
Most characters in anime are not white.
There is no onus on you to reblog or share anything.
Everyone makes mistakes in fandom and is less than their best self sometimes.
Persistent pseudonyms encourage long term relationships.
Ship wars are stupid.
Someone else enjoying things does not impact on your own enjoyment of other things.
Tagging and warning is a courtesy, not a requirement. Assume any fic might contain untagged content.
Rating is an imprecise art, not a science.
Don't hassle IP creators.
Most people who are in fandom are hoping to make connections based on a shared passion.
Trying to profit from transformative fanworks puts us all at risk.
No one is obligated to share your head canon or fanon.
Being kind rarely fails to pay off.
It is okay to block and remove people who make your experience unpleasant. You don't have to placate them. (Learn from my mistakes).
Britpicking is a good thing.
You don't have to justify why you like a canon/pairing/trope/kink. Sometimes navel gazing is fun, but you don't have an obligation to explain yourself, especially to strangers. I share the overwhelming desire to refute an unfair accusation, but the people accusing you are rarely doing so in good faith, so you're batting a losing wicket.
I'm not your Mum. (Well, okay, a very few of you can call me Mum or Mom, but if you are one of them you already know who you are â¤ď¸)
If you aren't mature enough to take responsibility for your online experiences, you aren't mature enough to be in fandom spaces.
âď¸âď¸âď¸âď¸âď¸ Although I'm still the Fandom Grannie, and I still love you all, this is a darn good reminder that each of us are responsible for our own fandom experience
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