Why do people stop commenting on fics if they’re more than a week or two old? Please comment on old fics. Tell me you like my one shot from 2014. Tell me you like my old multi-chap I finished in 2016 that I spent a year writing. I will be fucking thrilled.
Fics are not social media posts. There’s no “stalking” someone’s “old posts”. They’re meant to be found and enjoyed years down the line. No need to be nervous.
extrovert privilege is being able to post pics of your poop or like you with your balls out online as a joke and its still weird but everyones like “yeah hes a joker. hes wild” but if an introvert posts his poop and balls online all of the sudden its like “oh what a sick fuck”
because why would an introvert feel comfortable doing that unless the aim was to make people uncomfortable lol js
so the extrovert just gets a pass to parade his balls and poop around? meanwhile introverts are left by the wayside. taht seems fair to you?
it’s about intentions tbh. that’s what causes the difference in reaction (not that anyone?? is doing that?)
what if the introvert just wanted to cut loose for once and show off his poop and balls
Oh, yes.
A few years ago I went to pick up a woman I met on OKCupid for a date, and a friend of hers was there. They kind of over-explained “Oh, she just showed up to say hi” and there was a vague nervousness in the air that even my autistic ass was picking up on. Her friend was playing conspicuously with her phone. I went “Ah, the safety. Need to get a picture?”
Dead silence for about a second and a half, then the friend took a picture, looked at my date, and said “Have fun” and walked out the door.
(I would ordinarily have been clueless, but I’d just been asked to be the safety the previous night.)
My advice to male-presenting folks: recognize that this not your problem. By which I mean, this sort of security check isn’t a problem for you. It doesn’t hurt you. You aren’t being insulted or disrespected. And if you treat it like what it is– a reasonable adaptation to an unreasonable situation– and just roll with it, your dates will be more comfortable, and you will have a better time as a result.
The same applies to phone calls mid-date. Let them answer the damn phone without drama.
They aren’t accusing you of being a dangerous person. The very fact that they are willing to go on a goddamn date with you means that they have extended a certain level of trust. But the fact remains that there isn’t really a way to distinguish between “a man who isn’t dangerous” and “a man who knows how to behave like he’s not dangerous.”
there isn’t really a way to distinguish between “a man who isn’t dangerous” and “a man who knows how to behave like he’s not dangerous.”
i can’t even quite articulate what it’s like to be socialized on tumblr from a teenager to adulthood without sounding insane…. it did a lot of damage to me unquestionably but also i genuinely feel like I Am Built Different than my peers who did not have that same experience. actually you know what it’s literally just the blade runner ‘i’ve seen things you people wouldn’t believe, moments lost in time like tears in rain’ speech….i am cringe but i am free
Just a short little oneshot for fun!
No warnings and no reader descriptions - just Nestor being a good and protective boyfriend.
It wasn't the first time you had been in the back of a police cruiser. Granted, it had been quite sometime, it was more of a habit back in your wild and crazy youth but it still felt a little too familiar.
You remained quiet, cooperative, but quiet. The entire ride to the police station, through the long hours left waiting in the "interview" room and through the beginning stages of that interview.
When the two investigators sat down across from you, you kept your face as blank as could be. "I want to call my lawyer."
an actual conversation i had tonight;
guy: so [my friend] tells me you like star trek
me: uh… that is factually accurate, yes
guy: what shows have you seen?
me:
me: all of them
guy: woah
me: yeah. you sure you wanna do this?
Move in together. Problem solved
That witch hasn’t said a single word but im calling it now - Himbo.
Also yes move in together, platonically or romantically doesn’t matter, I’d watch the hell out of that wlw mlm solidarity fantasy sitcom anyway.
A fair maiden knocks on the goth lady’s door and says she’s here to find love.
The goth sighs, points across the road and says, “Witch is over there. He doesn’t do love potions because consent but he might be able to make you prettier, although 90% of the time it turns out the spell didn’t do anything but make you more confident.”
The maiden blushes and sheepishly explains that she knows he’s the witch, she just talked to him and he sent her over here.
Goth looks over her shoulder to see the himbo witch standing outside his house giving her a grin and a double thumbs up.
the monsters of hellboy ii, guillermo del toro // wintersong, s. jae-jones // larry fessenden // wicked saints, emily a. duncan // monster movie, nicola maye goldberg // c. joybell c. // frankenstein, mary shelley // fortesa latifi // crimson peak, dir. guillermo del toro // start here, caitlyn siehl
so much talk about love in the kitchen... what about the kitchen breakdowns
i am talking about baking at ungodly hours because you can’t sleep. i am talking about sitting on the kitchen floor sobbing. i am talking about staring into the fridge or the cabinets for minutes, there is nothing to eat and it makes you upset. i am talking about cooking at the stove, and then you’re wondering what it feels like for someone to wrap their arms around you from behind, and then you’re crying. i am talking about dishes upon dishes piled up in the sink. i am talking about eating on the floor. i am talking about the moment you realize that cooking for one stopped being efficient and started feeling agonizing. i am talking about mumbling to yourself in the kitchen and crying to yourself in the kitchen and when there’s only yourself in the kitchen
this
EZ asks fic requests:
Dating Both Reyes Brother (HC style)
Drunk & clingy EZ - coming soon
Blackout - coming soon
Breeding Kink (requested)
Dad Bish (requested)
Dad Riz (requested)
Friday morning fluff (requested)
Breeding Kink (requested)
Your man getting injured (EZ,Angel,Bishop)
Getting your period unexpectedly (EZ,Angel,Bishop)
Getting your period unexpectedly (Riza,Taza,Gilly)
Quickies (EZ, Angel, Bishop, Nestor)
C*ckwarming (EZ, Angel, Bishop, Coco, Nestor) - coming soon
Meet Cute (Hank, Nestor)
Multiple Characters asks (no specific pairing/relationship implied)
Hiii can I make a request for Hank? Like a really fluffy first meeting type thing? If you don’t like to write for Hank, then for Nestor? Thank you!!
You caught me feeling generous, and weak for two good men, so you can have both 😘
Pairing : Hank “Tranq” Loza x you, Nestor Oceteva x you
Warnings : Some swears, mention of “reader/you” borrowing Nestor’s clothes
Hank
When Hank had agreed to drive Letty the 45 minutes to the large outlet mall so she could go shopping he’d assumed he’d spend the time she was shopping in a coffee shop somewhere mindlessly scrolling through his socials or having another go at online dating.
He had not anticipated having to go into the stores with her to give his opinions on outfits or carry her bags, but here he was sitting on an uncomfortably low stool, surrounded by bags, waiting for Letty to show him another top and skirt combination.
He earned a fair few looks from other women using the changing rooms but no one had said anything and Hank wasn’t making a nuisance of himself.
“Okay, what about this one?” Letty said, yanking the curtain of her dressing room open and stepping out. She turned in a slow circle so Hank could see the whole outfit, not that there was much to see.
“Uhhh,” he struggled for the right words, “there’s not a lot of it,” Hank said as he looked everywhere else but Letty. She looked down at herself, her brows furrowed together.
“Where were you gonna wear it?” Hank asked.
“Just out,” she replied with a shrug.
“I liked the other one better,” Hank said, thinking any outfit where the skirt actually covered her buttcheeks would be a better choice.
“Okay, there's two more to try okay?” Letty said as she stepped back into the changing room and pulled the curtain.
“Love it, great,” Hank muttered to himself.
Three new women came into the changing rooms, taking the three cubicles up from Letty’s, their arms filled with things to try. Hank stole a few glances as the three of them showed each other the outfit choices, while he waited for Letty.
Two of the women left, having made their choices leaving just the one still trying on. Letty showed Hank another outfit, this one was jeans but with a crop top that he wasn’t totally sure about and Hank wondered if Letty would make her father do the same thing and how Coco would react to her choice of clothes.
“What do you guys think of this?” the voice of the woman a cubical up said as the curtain was pulled back and she stepped out. Her eyes focused on the mirror in front of her, turning and twisting, trying to assess from all angles.
There was no one else there to reply so Hank did.
“Looks lovely,” he said, glancing shyly at her.
“Oh!” you exclaimed on hearing the unfamiliar voice, “I’m sorry, I thought my friends were still here,”.
“They left a few minutes ago,” he replied, “but that does look lovely on you,”.
You felt a smile pulling at the corner of your lips as you smoothed your hands over the fabric, you’d been uncertain about it before but you were suddenly much more in favour of it.
“Do you think I could wear it to a wedding?” you asked.
“I absolutely think you could wear it to a wedding,” he agreed with a smile.
“Or a date?” another voice said and you saw the young woman standing opposite the man, a grin on her face.
“A date?” you questioned.
“Yeah, a date with Hank here!” she replied, her grin getting even wider, “he’s painfully single,”.
“Is that so?” you replied, your eyes on the man who was looking at the young woman with horror in his eyes and shaking his head, there was also a flush of red in his cheeks, like he was embarrassed.
“Sure is! I’ll go get changed so you two crazy kids can swap numbers,” she said before disappearing into her changing room again.
“I’m sorry about her,” Hank said.
“Hey! Don’t apologise for me!” she called from behind the curtain, making you and Hank laugh.
“I’m very open to the idea of a date though,” you said with a shy smile.
“Hank! Give her your number!”.
“Shut up Letty!” Hank hissed before he stood up, moving toward you.
He extended his hand toward you.
“I’m Hank, and I’d love to take you out sometime,”.
Nestor
This was it! The big day, you’d finally secured an interview for the position you’d been working toward for years, after all the hard work, the long hours and graft and heartache you were one interview away from it.You’d even splashed out on a new outfit for the interview, wanting to look as professional as possible.
You’d arrived 45 minutes early, sitting in a coffee shop just across the street from the place, your leg bouncing nervously as you sipped at your drink. In your mind you ran over all the things that were possibly going to come up and tried to prepare your answers as best you could.
With 20 minutes to go before the interview you stood and headed toward the door, your eyes fixed on the building just across the street. You were so focused you didn’t see the man at the counter, two large take away cups in his hand turning and stepping into your path.
In fact you didn’t even know he was there until you slammed into him, the two drinks he was holding bursting out of their paper cups and soaking the two of you.
“Jesus, fuck,” he exclaimed as the liquid scalded his hands.
“Oh shit,!” you cursed, jumping back and looking down at yourself, your new blouse dripping in black coffee.
The man looked at you, ready to curse you out for not looking where you were going but he paused, taking in your ruined top and the panic on your face and his eyes softened.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t see you coming up behind me,” he said.
“No, fuck,” you replied, as your mind raced, trying to work out what to do, “I wasn’t looking I’m sorry,”.
He bit back his sarcastic comment that it was fairly clear you’d not been looking, he grabbed a handful of napkins that were being offered to him by the girl behind the counter and he passed half to you.
“You were really focused on something,” he said, dabbing at the front of his shirt.
“I’ve got a job interview in 20 minutes,” you replied, looking again at your ruined clothes before bursting into tears.
You didn’t have anything else to wear, you couldn’t go home to change and you couldn’t wear your current outfit, you felt your chance slipping away and you wanted to scream and wail.
His eyes widened as he panicked for a few seconds, he didn’t know you but he didn’t want to see you cry, he reached out and touched his hand to your wrist.
“Don’t worry,” he said softly, knowing that telling you not to worry was hardly going to help.
“I can’t go in there looking like this!” you said, “they’ll think I’m a joke,”.
“Okay, I’ve got an idea,” he said, taking another look of you up and down, “your pants look fine, they’ve been saved from the worst of it it’s just your top but I’ve got a spare shirt in my car you can wear, if you put your jacket over it no one will know,” he explained, giving your wrist a gentle caress.
“Do you think so?” you asked, wiping at your eyes.
“Give me two seconds,” he said, turning and rushing out of the shop, returning a few seconds later with a dark blue dress shirt on a hanger.
“Here,” he said, passing it to you, “go put that on,”.
You took the hanger from him, you could tell from the weight of it that this wasn’t just any mass produced cheap thing, it was expensive.
“Thank you,” you sniffed before heading toward the bathroom and closing the door.
You pulled off your own ruined blouse and dabbed at your skin so it was dry before unbuttoning the shirt and slipping it off the hanger, the fabric was smooth and cool and slipped over your arms easily. You buttoned it up as best you could, finding that the buttons across your chest pulled open a little but once you’d tucked the length into your pants and thrown your jacket over the top you looked almost as good as you had before. You took a few seconds to fix your make up before stepping back out into the shop.
The man was waiting outside the bathroom door for you, two new coffees on the table beside him.
“Perfect,” he said with a smile, he slipped his hand into the pocket of his trousers and pulled out a card, “that’s my number, call me and I’ll come and get my shirt,” he added as he passed you the card.
“Thank you, and I’m sorry,” you replied, glancing at the card.
“Don’t worry about it, good luck with the job as well,” he said.
“Oh fuck,” you glanced at the clock, it was 5 minutes now until yout interview time, “I’ll call you,” you said as you dashed toward the door, you heard the man behind you chuckle as you yanked the door open and ran across the street without looking.
When Nestor finally picked Marcus up that morning he was 30 minutes late.
“What took you so long?” Marcus asked as he climbed into the car.
“Had a run in at the coffee shop,” Nestor replied.
“What kinda run in?” Marcus questioned, “the good type or the bad type?”.
Nestor couldn’t help but smile.
“The good type, I hope,”.
Taglist : @appropriate-writers-name 💜 @aria725 💜 @rose-bliss 💜 @noz4a2 💜 @blessedboo 💜 @yourwonkywriter 💜 @amorestevens 💜 @lovebishoplosamiguelgalindo 💜 @chibsytelford 💜
A/N : The ask box is open, please feel free to share your deepest , darkest thots with me, also requests for HC, drabbles, imagines ect. Also please feel free to check out my small but every expanding masterlist. ily. And just for today, it’s coming home.
To all the kids whose parents couldn’t help you with this kind of stuff
hc for how poly!angel and coco would react to seeing reader out with a guy they don’t know? Reader and guy are sitting a little to close for their liking ofc she’s not cheating on them though.
This shit is so extra why would you trigger my overactive imagination like this lmao
Do you ever think you'll stop drawing fanart? No offense it just seems like the kind of thing you're supposed to grow out of. I'm just curious what your plans/goals are since it isn't exactly an art form that people take seriously.
Ah, fanart. Also known as the art that girls make.
Sad, immature girls no one takes seriously. Girls who are taught that it’s shameful to be excited or passionate about anything, that it’s pathetic to gush about what attracts them, that it’s wrong to be a geek, that they should feel embarrassed about having a crush, that they’re not allowed to gaze or stare or wish or desire. Girls who need to grow out of it.
That’s the art you mean, right?
Because in my experience, when grown men make it, nobody calls it fanart. They just call it art. And everyone takes it very seriously.
It’s interesting though — the culture of shame surrounding adult women and fandom. Even within fandom it’s heavily internalized: unsurprisingly, mind, given that fandom is largely comprised by young girls and, unfortunately, our culture runs on ensuring young girls internalize *all* messages no matter how toxic. But here’s another way of thinking about it.
Sports is a fandom. It requires zealous attention to “seasons,” knowledge of details considered obscure to those not involved in that fandom, unbelievable amounts of merchandise, and even “fanfic” in the form of fantasy teams. But this is a masculine-coded fandom. And as such, it’s encouraged - built into our economy! Have you *seen* Dish network’s “ultimate fan” advertisements, which literally base selling of a product around the normalization of all consuming (male) obsession? Or the very existence of sports bars, built around the link between fans and community enjoyment and analysis. Sport fandom is so ingrained in our culture that major events are treated like holidays (my gym closes for the Super Bowl) — and can you imagine being laughed at for admitting you didn’t know the difference between Supernatural and The X Files the way you might if you admit you don’t know the rules of football vs baseball, or basketball?
“Fandom” is not childish but we live in a culture that commodified women’s time in such away that their hobbies have to be “frivolous,” because “mature” women’s interests are supposed to be marriage, family, and overall care taking: things that allow others to continue their own special interests, while leaving women without a space of their own.
So think about what you’re actually saying when you call someone “too old” for fandom. Because you’re suggesting they are “too old” for a consuming hobby, and I challenge you to answer — what do you think they should be doing instead?
This whole modern approach is also seriously undermining just how important fanfiction is - from a historical standpoint.
The concept of fanfiction formed and forged the earliest stages of literature in Europe. Because the majority of authors in France, Germany and Great Britain looked at that funky little Celtic dude Arthur and thought “hey, he’s neat. I wanna write about him”.
The entire concept of a book outside of religious purposes was born out of fanfiction in my country.
There is no “first canon” for Arthur where he came as the prince of Camelot, with his sidekicks Lancelot and Merlin and his endgame love interest Gwen.
Arthur was some random hunter when he started out.
Someone’s fanfiction made him a prince.
Someone else’s fanfiction gave him a round table.
Someone else’s fanfiction gave him Merlin at his side.
Someone else’s fanfiction gave him Morgana, gave him Gwen, gave him his swords.
And, to this day, we still write Arthurian fanfiction. Literally last year there was a movie adaptation that is, by all intends and purposes, fanfiction, because it wasn’t even close to a literal adaptation of the source material (The Kid Who Would Be King). Heck, BBC’s Merlin, itself an Arthurian fanfiction, remains one of the biggest fandoms that people today write for on AO3.
You were a joke in the middle ages if you tried to write your own stuff. Who’s interested in your stuff? You were only a respected author if you wrote fanfiction. The most famous medieval German authors are famous because they wrote fanfiction about some knightly OCs they created who served on Arthur’s court. That is the literary legacy of the middle ages. Arthurian fanfiction.
Yet somewhere along the way, this concept of “I find x story/element cool and want to elaborate on it more, shift the focus onto an aspect of this original source material” has gotten this “eh, it’s fanfiction” connotation and lost respect.
Even though this very concept is still being used - even outside of the actual medium of fanfiction - and it is still being used for the very same purpose it was used for in medieval times. Original movies often don’t get as much recognition as adaptations of existing source material that the audience is familiar with. People see a movie about a character they’re familiar with and seem more inclined to buy a ticket to see the 10th new interpretation of Batman or Superman or Snow White. How are these new interpretations of familiar source material that usually add to the lore, reinterpret characterizations and dynamics, any different from fanfiction?
But heaven forbid we call The Dark Knight Nolan’s Batman fanfiction. No, fanfiction is that silly thing that we can’t take seriously, but that new Joker movie, that however is high-end art.
SO IMPORTANT
This. Fanfiction is variations on an existing theme, simultaneously making use of and satisfying people’s existing love for a story that they’re happy to consume more of, and cultivating the synergy between an existing story/mythos and a new author who, in interacting with characters they’d never have created themselves, creates something that neither they nor any of the story’s previous tellers could have made all by themselves.
Fanfiction is the new whole being greater than the sum of its parts, and fanfiction is the story being made limitless, retelling by retelling, and it is wonderful.
It’s also worth noting that Batman himself only came into being because of The Scarlet Pimpernel, a series of books about an extravagantly rich foppish playboy by day, daring hero in disguise by night (I mean, loosely. He also fopped by night and heroed by day, but you get my drift). Written by a woman no less.
Batman is a transformative work with a modernised crime-fighting SP but also borrowing strongly from earlier comic books, and yet it is seen as definitive.
Coming back here to say that I think the derision for fanart also has some of its roots in our capitalist hellscape.
It’s the age old “If thing not make you money, why you care about thing?” that’s so prevalent in the system. Of course some people do make money with their fanart, but I think that is still part of the scorn.
It’s supposed to be something you do not just for fun, but for practice, people like this think. Once you’re good at it, you can drop it and make money by focusing on your OCs and original work!
**smashes reblog**
Couldn’t agree more. Fan art and fic are absolutely valid. We really need to stop putting an age limit on fun as well!
Funnily enough, my Mum sent me this just today. It was in the front of the Doctor Who book she’d just purchased. (My Mum’s in her 70btw… tell her she’s too old for fandom, I dare you…)
Fandom, fanart, and fanfiction is for everyone. No, it isn’t something you “have” to grow out of. If it brings you joy, then who cares?
Always reblog
may I please ask for a Pelle imagines where yn was kidnapped from the community as a kid and doesnt remember anything. he finds her at university and they are truly soulmates,with a happy ending. pleeeeease
ooh i love the concept! thanks for the request! it’s kind of vague if that makes sense? hope you enjoy it!
title: home
Is it cliche to say that Pelle felt like home to you?
From the moment you met him, you knew he was the one. There would be no one else for you.
Your whole life, you had felt misplaced. Like you never really belonged anywhere, and Pelle… he was the one thing you were sure about. So when he had asked you to come to Sweden with him, you did.
The air was familiar. The lush, green felt right. It all seemed to click into place.
No one had to tell you this was your home. The faces of the people were the ones you saw in your dreams. They welcomed you like the others, with open arms. You felt like one of them, and you were one of them.
This was your family. Your home.
But wherever Pelle was… that was your home.
How about L 5 For the Angst prompt.
"You know I have feelings for you."
L hunched in the chair beside her, his eyes ever so often drifting from the monitor that held his attention. It has been this way for months now, the slow creep of interest in another person morphing into something more. He never found the courage to admit it to her or himself, better to keep it locked inside, chained in his heart where no one could get hurt.
Lately, though, he was realizing it was harder than he had anticipated…keeping his feelings for her in check, buried away like a secret that didn’t deserve to see the light of day. What if she didn’t feel the same for him? Surely, and more so likely, her reciprocating his affections was not guaranteed. He easily took chances when there was a calculated risk, but this…this was something even his logic couldn’t touch.
His thoughts drifted back to the times they had spent together, The fine line between professional and person always being skated, even crossed in the hours his demons awoke, seeking comfort in her friendship and kindness, remembering the way he confided some of his deepest truths to her about his past, how she didn’t bat an eye at them, just smiled and took his hand gently in hers, never asking for anything in return.
The more he thought, the more he decided she was worth the risk.
She turned to face him, a smile growing on her blushing lips. “You’ve been awfully quiet. No luck with that batch of evidence?”
Her soft whisper broke him from his thoughts, immediately realizing he had been staring at her this whole time. “Hmm? Oh, no, that isn’t it.”
She looked at him with concern, but tried to hide it. “Oh…did you find something? What’s on your mind?”
“You know I have feelings for you, correct?” The words blurted ineloquently from his lips, a scowl becoming heavy on his face.
Her entire expression softened, one he couldn’t read or decipher. “Yes, Ryuzaki. I know.”
