Let’s say, theoretically, there is an amazing au fic for your otp that first got published almost two months ago. Now, when the fic was published the author indicated that the entire fic would, theoretically, be three chapters long. That’s fine because you know the author, and you know the fic will be well thought out, with fleshed out characters and ridiculously hot smut.

So when the first chapter comes out and leaves you panting for more, that’s ok because, theoretically, the next chapter won’t be too far behind. Then, lo and behold, part two follows part one pretty damn closely and holy shit did it deliver on the hotness while breaking your heart because damn you can feel the characters’ pain even if they won’t admit it themselves.

Then you wait, and you wait, and you wait, until (theoretically, of course) a month goes by and part three is posted. But instead of being the final reward for your patience, you find out that the fic will actually be four parts instead of three. Well, that’s ok because, again, the author is awesome and you kinda don’t want to let go of this story yet. But then you actually read part three, and holy shit did it kick you in the balls (again, theoretically because your anatomy does not actually include testicles), and now the wait starts again.

And so you wait, and you wait, and you wait. Now, theoretically, some of you are patient and leave the author alone, after all fanfic is free, authors have real lives and real jobs, you can’t always predict when the muse will strike or when they will have time to create, and that’s ok and perfectly legitimate, and you’re happy to wait on the author. Then, theoretically, there are those of you who will drop an ask or message the author to find out if the next part will be coming, being mindful that things happen and there is no rush, you’re just curious that’s all. But then, there are those of you who, theoretically, spam the author with messages and asks because jfc how could you leave us hanging like that, it’s cruel and inhumane and the author made your heart cry and you need your otp to be happy and why can’t they be happy already???

So, theoretically speaking, @this-too-too-sullied-flesh if I were to say that I fall somewhere in between the first type of reader and the third, and I now you have a lot of real life family and work things going on, would it be ok for me ask, beg and/or plead for part four of… crap, what the hell was the name of your fic again? It’s been so long, I’ve forgotten it…

So I figured it was time for some fun headcanoning.

When Emma finally learns how to poof she goes completely over the top with it. 

Poofing in the middle of a crowded diner (and scaring everyone shitless) 

Poofing on top of the roof of her parent’s place (that one is actually an accident, she’s still learning the ropes)

Poofing on top of some thug that was trying to mug someone (she’s very pleased about that one actually)

And then there was that one time she wanted to show off her skills to Regina and poofed into her shower stall instead of the living room. While Regina was actually in said shower stall. Naked. (Regina wasn’t too amused, until Emma’s clothing started to soak through and she figured the situation had its possibilities)

Dear roleplayers/admins/etc that use the “rp is supposed to be fun!” excuse,

Who is it supposed to be fun for? If it’s supposed to be fun, and that’s your excuse for not including diverse characters, what does that mean? Is RP only supposed to be fun for cis het white people? 

“RP is supposed to be an escape!" 

Is it an escape from a diverse world, then? Are you escaping to a world where cis het White people are the dominant force and POC are put on the back burner? Because last time I checked, that’s a lot like the real world. And if this is your escape, why do you want to escape to a world where POC and other groups aren’t properly represented? 

Sometimes I just feel like I’m playing house.

Like my whole life is just pretend.
Like nothing is real.
Like everything I’m doing is for nothing.
Like the only reason I’m doing all this
is because I’m “supposed to”.
I’m just traveling on this empty journey
filled with empty words
and empty promises.
Like no one is who they say they are.
Like everyone else is just pretending too.
Then one day,
someone will wake up.
It may not be me,
but it would be someone.
They would wake up,
decide not to pretend anymore,
then they’d be gone.
Then this pretend life we have
would be over.

Why I love the internet
  • Me:omg so many feels about such a weird specific subject I am such a loser no-one understands I can never tell anyone they would think I'm so strange I am ~forever alone~
  • Internets:No baby come here there are a million of us we've been here for years, come read all these fanfics and watch these videos and check out these graphics and listen to this podcast and read this essay I just wrote on that same subject and do you want to join our discussion group every tuesday at 10pm?

today i woke up and my body was a hive of wasps; i am empty of words yet strangled by thoughts.

the ends justify the means. the ends justify the means. if i sail myself deeper into bad things, my writing will profit. i get so much work done when my anxiety is sharper. how do normal people function. when you notice you’re gaining weight do you just eat better and work out more often. is starving it off not an option, much less the first one. the ends justify the means. i woke up and couldn’t taste my dreams.