it seems like something out of a fan fiction

Some long thoughts on a few #Gates

Right, I’m back and plan on reopening my asks soon-ish. Before I do that, though, I just want to address a few of the big dramas that unfolded in my absence. This is mainly so that I won’t end up addressing these questions through various ask replies, so if I don’t respond to your message it’s probably because I’ve said the last thing I’m going to say about it here. Onward!

On #RomanceGate

As we have previously established thanks to a tweet from David Kamp with the full, unedited transcript of the excerpt of the interview pertinent to romance, the published Vanity Fair article did not fully reflect what Rian was actually trying to say about the question of romance in Episode VIII. The Vanity Fair article said this:

FIVE THINGS THAT ARE NOT IN THE LAST JEDI

A big, central-to-the-plot romance. For all the fan-fiction fantasies of “Reylo” (an imagined union of Daisy Ridley’s Rey and Adam Driver’s Kylo Ren) or “Stormpilot” (the same, for John Boyega’s ex-stormtrooper Finn and Oscar Isaac’s pilot Poe Dameron), Johnson says that The Last Jedi offers “no one-to-one equivalent of the Han-to-Leia, burning, unrequited love. In our story, that’s not a centerpiece.”

And this is what was actually said between Kamp and Johnson in the interview:

Now, what initially seemed to rule out any inclusion of romance in The Last Jedi actually suggests something quite different - Rian seems to be saying that he was keen to include a big, sweeping romance, but that when it came to it the characters didn’t seem to be in the right place for that to happen. He doesn’t at all rule out subtle traces of romance or flirtation (as Kamp highlights in his tweet), thus the classic ‘wait and see’-style response. 

It is also very important to point out that the references to Reylo and StormPilot were clearly Kamp editorialising. While terms like ‘imagined’ and ‘fan-fiction fantasies’ sting to anyone familiar with all of the misogynistic BS female fans have to deal with for daring to be interested in the human relationships in these stories, as I see it the references to popular ships are simply there to provide context for the mainstream audience and boost SEO rankings. Rian Johnson has been very emphatic about distancing himself from Kamp’s phrasing, and the full quote makes it clear that no specific relationships were raised in the context of the original interview.

So, while I still think we need to be cautious and keep expectations for an overt Reylo romance in The Last Jedi low (as Rian says, there is no central romance plot in his film), I certainly think that the full quote should relieve the anxiety that love and attraction won’t be in play to some extent. Although I don’t think that we’re going to get a Reylo kiss (that’s my opinion re. The Last Jedi - come back to me after December to get my thoughts on Episode IX), it clearly isn’t out of the question that The Last Jedi will progress Rey and Kylo so that they are ready for a full-blown romance in the next film. I can’t stress enough that Rey and Kylo end The Force Awakens on different sides, with Kylo having killed his father and Rey having just slashed Kylo’s face open. They both have huge personal journeys to go on (Rey has to come into her own in the Force, and Kylo has to wake up to Snoke’s evil and show remorse for his terrible mistakes) before they can truly go on a journey together. Essentially, to progress from the current state of affairs to a consummated love affair in the space of a single movie would, to put it mildly, be pushing it. 

Speaking for myself, I would be ecstatic if The Last Jedi simply shows Rey and Kylo developing empathy and perhaps even compassion for each other. Rey has already defeated Kylo in a duel, so their journey together going forward won’t simply be one of antagonism - as J.J. said in his commentary (which was recorded after he had read the script for The Last Jedi), Kylo is “a character who [Rey’s] going to have a very interesting relationship with moving forward”. In short, I have no fear that the dynamic between Rey and Kylo Ren is going to remain static or be less important going forward. Rey and Kylo are crucial to each other’s stories, and we have every reason to believe that Rian is honouring that. 

On #PlotGate

These are the tweets that started the famous #PlotGate:

Now, this actually didn’t worry me at all. But why would I - one of the people who has written thousands of words analysing the minutia of The Force Awakens - be unconcerned by the suggestion that Rian could do whatever the hell he wanted in The Last Jedi? Why am I not freaking out when there doesn’t seem to be a plan for the trilogy?

Well, the simple answer is that I’m not alarmed because these kinds of sentiments are far from new. From the very beginning, the narrative has always been that each filmmaker has a considerable degree of freedom to tell the story they want to tell. For a great explanation of how the early development of The Last Jedi worked, see this quote from J.J. Abrams from November 2015 (particularly the bold bits):

The script for VIII is written. I’m sure rewrites are going to be endless, like they always are. But what Larry and I did was set up certain key relationships, certain key questions, conflicts. And we knew where certain things were going. We had meetings with Rian and Ram Bergman, the producer of VIII. They were watching dailies when we were shooting our movie. We wanted them to be part of the process, to make the transition to their film as seamless as possible. I showed Rian an early cut of the movie, because I knew he was doing his rewrite and prepping. And as executive producer of VIII, I need that movie to be really good. Withholding serves no one and certainly not the fans. So we’ve been as transparent as possible. Rian has asked for a couple of things here and there that he needs for his story. He is an incredibly accomplished filmmaker and an incredibly strong writer. So the story he told took what we were doing and went in the direction that he felt was best but that is very much in line with what we were thinking as well. But you’re right—that will be his movie; he’s going to do it in the way he sees fit. He’s neither asking for nor does he need me to oversee the process.

There are endless quotes from J.J. and Kathleen Kennedy supporting this picture, and I think this is exactly as it should be. Rian is not making The Last Jedi in a vacuum - he is building it on the foundation set by The Force Awakens, and had a say on the development and presentation of that film so that it would weave seamlessly into his movie. Rian even reiterated this sentiment himself in the main Vanity Fair article on The Last Jedi:

J.J. and Larry and Michael set everybody up in a really evocative way in VII and started them on a trajectory.

Rian is insistent on stressing his independence as a filmmaker at every stage because people are keen to paint him as a slave to the Walt Disney Company’s whims. At every turn, he has to deal with people assuming that The Last Jedi will repeat the trick played by The Force Awakens by mirroring its famous and beloved antecedent - for The Force Awakens this was Star Wars, and people expect it to be The Empire Strikes Back for The Last Jedi. Understandably, Rian wants to stress that The Last Jedi is his baby - it’s infused with his own creativity rather than studio notes and nostalgia. 

But, at the same time, that doesn’t mean that Rian can do whatever the hell he wants. I can almost guarantee that Rian would have received furious correctional notes if he had tried to pitch a story where Rey Rey Binks died in the second act. There will be certain strands established in The Force Awakens that The Last Jedi will nurture and evolve, and Rian will be taking pre-existing characters and relationships and building on them further. As Pablo appeased an anxious fan on Twitter:

In short, there absolutely is collaboration - between the individual filmmakers, and between the filmmakers and Lucasfilm. Rian is free to tell the story he wants to tell, but that story has a baseline in The Force Awakens and also has a responsibility to establish a platform for Colin Trevorrow to build on with Episode IX. The filmmakers are talking to each other, and there is absolutely collaboration and handoff between them so that these film will ultimately make sense as a trilogy as well as on their own terms. 

In other words, I really don’t see much to worry about. I have seen nothing but praise for the script for The Last Jedi, and Rian’s filmography amply demonstrates his talent as both a writer and a director. 

I’m as excited for The Last Jedi as I ever was, so I hope I’ve been able to put some people’s minds to rest with this. Bring on December!

Tired Rick being strangely cuddly

 To all that were waiting I am so sorry but thank you for being so patient. I rewrote this thing about 5 times so I really hope you all enjoy it!

Something Else (Rick x Reader Imagine)

It was one of those cold nights where all I wanted to do was crawl into bed with a hot cup of tea and a good book. But of course, a night like that seemed far out of my reach.

Ever since that dangerous encounter in who knows what dimension, he keeps coming over drunk out of his mind, with the smell of alcohol lingering on his breath. He would come in and just make himself at home, raiding my cupboards of all my wafers, drinking whatever liquor I had , and crashing on my couch.  By morning, he would be gone and leave nothing behind other than a bunch of fucking crumbs on my lay-z-boy.

But tonight was different.

I placed my glasses on the nightstand and crawled into bed hoping to get a decent sleep. Then I heard him come in. As usual, he had little regard for whose house this was, let alone the person living in it. I heard the door slam shut and the twist of the lock. This was normally followed by the drunken steps towards the kitchen but instead there were slow steps, struggling to come up the stairs.

Oh, please don’t turn on the light.

flick.

I groaned in annoyance and threw the covers off. It was hard to adjust to the light without my glasses, but  I could make out that a blurry Rick had shrugged off his lab coat and just about everything else but his underwear. Before I could even say anything, the lights flicked off and I felt his weight on the bed. He pulled up the covers and tenderly tucked us both in.

What the hell is happening right now?

I tensed up as a cold, long arm wrapped around my waist.

Rick Sanchez was being the big spoon.

“How drunk are you right now?” I questioned. There was a warm feeling in my chest. Something I’ve never really wanted to admit I felt because I knew the consequences. I knew how he would feel about it.

“Not-not drunk enough.” His voice was hoarse and you could hear how exhausted he was.

There was a heavy silence in my bedroom as we lay together. Rick moved closer giving me a squeeze so there was no space between us now. His chest was like an icicle against my back but it didn’t matter to me how cold he was; it just made that warm feeling inside grow two sizes more.

Hesitantly I reached out to him and intertwined our fingers. His long and slender fingers slipping into the spaces like a jigsaw piece.

This was a side of Rick Sanchez I had never seen before. The drunk blue haired menace to the universe was a crude and cold old man who shouted odd catchphrases and went off on people’s flaws with quick wit. But yet here he was, holding me in his arms as though I were about to run off. Like I was something to … protect.

The sound of his soft snoring brought me out of my head.

I went to sleep with a smile.

On Writing Fan Fiction

Anonymous asked: “Hey Lizard, do you have tips for fan fiction writing?”

I don’t really follow fandoms too well and the more I try, the more I’ve come to the realization that I’m pretty pop-culture illiterate in a lot of ways. Sometimes I think, maybe I just watch TV wrong because I just never really automatically “shipped” anyone with anyone else.

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Jonerys One Shot: She’s One of Us Now

Jon had arrived at Winterfell earlier that evening, greeting his family with tight embraces, unshed tears glistening in his eyes. They exchanged sweet remarks, and Jon felt younger that he had in years. Remembering his courtesies, Jon gave them a quick introduction of their new Queen, to which they replied accordingly but not warmly. Daenerys greeted them in turn, and Jon could see the faintest signs of nervousness on her face. Arya pulled him closer, beckoning him to the castle, and Dany told him she needed to oversee her troops camp, and turned to leave, but Jon impulsively took hold of her hand.

“Daenerys,” he called unthinkingly, nearly a plead. 

He wanted to spend time with his family that much was true, but he also wanted for her to keep him company. He let her hand go quickly.

“Will you join us at dinner?” He asked softly.

Her face was almost unreadable, but Jon had learned to see through her Queenly act. Her eyes flickered to his sisters, and she placed a docile smile on her face. 

“Thank you for your hospitality, Lord Snow, but I’m sure your family would be glad to spend time with you tonight.”

Neither wanted to keep their affection a secret, but they understood that it might come as an unpleasant shock to those who did not know her. Still, Jon only cared about keeping her at his side for as long as possible. Winter was here, and he oft wondered if they would live to see spring.

“Yes, your Grace,” said Sansa with a smile, “Thank you for your understan-”

“I’m sure my family would enjoy your company, too,” he interrupted. 

At that, Daenerys gave a true smile. She regarded him for a moment, but agreed, “Alright. I’m looking forward to it.”

Jon was glad that she turned away at that, and mounted her Silver filly out the gates, or else he might have kissed her in the public Courtyard. He led his family into the castle, and mussed Arya’s hair as he had done many years ago. She grinned affectionately and showed him the sword she had kept all along. 

They were in his study. Bran kept quiet, but gave Jon a pleasant smile when he turned his way. Sansa was smiling too, clearly relieved that her brother had returned safely to her. But the memory of the Queen in the courtyard made her uneasy, and he turned to look at his brother warily once again.

“You bent the knee,” she began.

He sank on the chair in front of the fire, “I did.” 

Arya climbed onto the desk, swiftly, but careful enough not to knock off the ink bottles and parchment. Sansa wheeled Bran closer and sat at a chair next to them.

“Whats she like?” Arya interrupted, “The Queen?” 

“She’s…” Jon kept his face guarded and considered his words, “A just ruler. Her people love her, but she gives good reason for her enemies to fear her.” 

“Then its good we’re not her enemy… yet. But she chose Tyrion Lannister as her hand, how can you trust her?” Arya wondered.

Sansa shook her head, “Tyrion is not a bad man. He has good cause to hate Cersei too. But-” she looked at Jon, “How can you trust her?” 

“She’s never given me reason not to,” he said simply. 

Sansa breathed out impatiently. Surely there was more to it, but he was holding back from them. She exchanged an irritated look with Arya, but her sister just smiled. 

“Sansa’s been waiting for weeks to quarrel with you,” she said, smirking, “I told her she ought to let it go, that you wouldn’t give the North to someone that didn’t deserve it.”

Jon looked over, “You’re right, I wouldn’t. At first, I thought she wanted to have me burned alive for not bending the knee the first time she asked but-” the ghost of a smile threatened to appear on his lips, “-She’s not cruel. She wasn’t pleased, thought. Tyrion said I was the most stubborn Northern fool he’d ever met. Nothing he did or said changed my mind.”

“But something did,” Bran said, looking passively to the flames.

Jon’s brows furrowed, but Arya pipped in, “What changed?”

He swallowed and turned back to the flames, “She’s the best chance we have.” 

Arya’s playfulness had ceased, replaced by intrigue and concern. 

“Why didn’t you tell us anything?” Sansa demanded, “Why couldn’t you send me a raven?”

Annoyance flickered on his features, “What did you want to hear?”

His words vexed her, “I don’t know, Jon, anything, anything at all! Why couldn’t you ask for our insight?” 

Arya knew that by “our insight”, Sansa meant “hers”, but she said nothing. 

“I knew what you would say,” he explained, “And I told you- I wasn’t going to bend the knee, damned if she burned me alive and conquered the North on her own-”

“But you did bend the knee, Jon,” Arya cut in, “We’re not young girls anymore, Winterfell is our home too.”

“You left me alone, here,” Sansa said, raising her voice, “You were the last family I had, and you left me. I was so worried that you wouldn’t come back, that I would see Targaryen armies marching through our gates and see your head on a spike. Seven Hells, Jon! You could have sent-”

“I KNOW!” he exclaimed, standing up. 

Sansa flinched, and he immediately filled with guilt. He knew his sister was strong, but she had also fought a battle of her own, with the scars to prove it. 

“You’re right I should have,” Jon lowered his voice, “But there was nothing you could have said to stop me.”

Sansa’s breath caught in her throat. Arya studied his face carefully. He sat back down, but this time, he did not look away from them.

“Daenerys risked her life to save my own. She knows whats coming, we’ve seen it. When the dead march on our walls, she will be the reason why our lives keep going.”

Arya turned to her sister and exhaled, then, “Bran, is it true?”

Jon looked over at his little brother as his eyes rolled back into white slits. He let out a shaky breath. After a moment, Bran’s eyes rolled back.

“You saw him,” Bran stated, “Beyond the wall.”

He closed his eyes tightly and nodded, remembering Uncle Benjen’s scarred face. Bran looked to his sisters.

“Its true. The Night King took something dearly from her. She saved Jon’s life. She might well be the one to end the war, and-” he glanced at Jon, “-maybe more.” 

Jon took a deep breath, “I’ve missed you more than I can say, all of you. I am here now. I’m here to protect the North, and to keep the people I love safe. I can’t do that if I don’t have your support.”

Arya stepped off of the desk, “You have mine.”

“Our support,” Sansa said carefully, “For you- and for Daenerys?”

“Yes,” he said firmly but not unkindly. 

Her eyebrows creased, but she nodded, “Alright.”

“Good,” Jon said with a light smile, standing up and wheeling Bran’s chair to the door, “Come on, then. I haven’t had good ale since I left for Dragonstone.”


I TRIED OKAY. no this wasn’t the super long one shot I promised you guys, I’m not done with it haha, but keep an eye out, I think i might call it “The Bastard’s Queen Song” or something like that idk 

Let me know if you liked this, and please for the love of god, don’t hate on Sansa, I always try to make her seem extra likable on my fics because she gets so much hate. Okay, love ya, Enjoy! 

bookcaseninja  asked:

Do you have any tips for rewriting a fairytale?

I personally love a good fairytale retelling. I feel like this is a theme that’s a little more popular especially in fan fictions and YA books. I remember when Wicked first came out there seemed to be a flood of stories that started surfacing because people love seeing classics re-imagined. There are a few key elements that can help your story stand out.

Originally posted by heartsnmagic

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Today, I Learned a Lot

When I started shipping Outlaw Queen I felt like I had found a fandom of people who were nice, who seemed to be anti bullshit, who said nice things to me when I gave them compliments. Who told me they liked that I was bold and stood up for people who didn’t have a voice.

They made me feel like I was part of something, and I’ve never been much of a joiner, but I joined the OQ fandom, willingly. I reblogged posts, fan art, fan fiction, sent nice little asks…and then I slowly realized that I was pushing myself into a place where I didn’t belong. Still I brushed it off as insecurities, told myself “Chill out, they like you Dee-see they Reblog your posts, they respond to your nice words. You’re just tripping, these people like you. Don’t make such a big deal out of it”.

Today, I witnessed a very ugly side of fandom. There were people whom I have had lots of chats with, people whose fanfics I read and love, people who I felt respected me.

Today, those very people either bitched about my OQ post as if I couldn’t see it, unfollowed me on social media, or took slick shots about my OQ post on Twitter but didn’t have the guts to @ me.

They banded together…against me. Isn’t that funny? They downright ostracized me today. It’s like, the more people reblogged my Tumblr post the more people kept making post about how it was okay to not be over Robin being dead and how nobody has the right to make you feel otherwise.

Today, people that I respected very much, folks whom I thought would read my post and do what they always do-bring the peace, respect everyone’s opinion and keep it moving, didn’t do shit.

Today, those people in the Outlaw Queen fandom that I thought would help me, who I looked to, were silent.

I honestly expected more from OQ shippers. Today I was left to drown in a pool of my own blood.

The reaction I received today makes me feel even more confident in my post about OQ fans. It confirmed a LOT of what I said. They would rather defend themselves and how they feel then to actually listen to what I, a WOC have to say and how I feel.

I got whitesplained, Whitesplained about my own damn feelings 😂😂😂 the laughing emojis are to keep me from throwing my fucking phone because of how mad and disappointed I am.

At first, I felt bad for what I said; I even told my mom “I didn’t mean to start a war”. I was made to feel guilty for having a voice…no, no, no I was guilty for having an opinion that didn’t make people feel good about themselves or their ship.

As a result, I found myself in an apologetic mood even though all I did was spoke my mind. My anxiety was through the roof all damn day. I had shit to do today but I was so fucking distracted-on edge about who would say what and what other person would be condescendingly patronizing that I was unproductive as fuck. I literally laughed (and cried) as I imagined how many people wouldn’t bother to read, process, and then respond. Because I wrote that post last night at least 8 times or more. Because I didn’t wanna offend anybody. But then I was like “fuck it, you’ve been watching this shit go on for nearly 2 years; there’s no nice way for it to be said”

Granted what I said wasn’t in a nice manner, but I had been sitting on my issues/ feelings for a long time, a very long time. I was a ticking time bomb that blew up.

As I sit and look at the carnage of my own self destruction I sadly see that hardly anyone from my own ship stopped to help me, save a few people. I even had two of the biggest voices of OQ step in and say “respect Dee’s opinion and voice” and STILL people are over on twitter passively aggressively bitching about my post, or acting like it was a blip on their radar.

I got more support and understanding from people who detest Robin/OQ/Sean Maguire than the people who claim to love him and Regina and OQ so much. That’s ironic; they hate Robin but came to my defense.

I’ve got a mix of emotions running through me right now-numbness, shock, anger, sadness, disappointment, frustration, bewilderment.

I honestly held OQ shippers in such high regard but today…I don’t even know if I’ll be able to even read another OQ fic, write another OQ fic because the disappointment hurts you guys, it hurts forreal.

It’s like finding out Santa Clause isn’t real (though I never believed in him but I can imagine this strange feeling is how little kids must feel).

What’s sad is that these people, these same people are still following me (well, some of them are) and they’re going about their day, still protecting their shipper status, still claiming to be allies and so progressive, but a Black girl from Alabama makes a post that challenges that position and everybody either loses their shit, becomes passive Aggressive or pretends not to notice what’s happening.

Today OQ fans, a ship mate jumped ship and y'all let her drown.

Y'all let ME drown; in fact y'all mothefuckers saw me jump off the ship and didn’t bother to stop me.

*sigh*

This was a valuable lesson, a sad but valuable lesson for me.

You OQ shippers have real deal left me without words…y'all can have Robin and Regina, I don’t want either of them at this point.

They’re not worth it and neither are y'all…

Title: In too deep
Ship: Jughead Jones/Betty Cooper
Fandom: Riverdale
Episode: 1 X 03
Summary: Betty and Jughead are at the Blue and Gold offices working on the Jason story when they share an unexpected kiss and everything changes.
Rating : Mature

Notes: My first fic for this ship. I’m bughead trash. Please forgive any inadvertent errors; English is not my first language.


“It isn’t fair”, pouted Betty. He smiled at her petulant expression. They were at the offices of the Blue and Gold, looking at the story on his laptop. It was getting dark and the dim lights in the office cast spooky shadows on the walls.  

“You write so well. So effortlessly. You know just how to hook the reader in! You have a natural talent, Juggie”. She sounded so honest.

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ChanBaek rant. (Don't worry, I ain't freaking out about the 'Baek has Chan keke')

What pisses me off is that it’s been so long since Chanbaek have interacted(as everyone has noticed. Everyone). So, so long, and the over-the-top shippers(the ones who are going after the boys because of Chris fckn Lee) still don’t seem to understand that it’s because they’re uncomfortable? Like imagine you see something funny on stage and you turn over to tell your best friend and God forbid he throws and arm around you and the next day there are about thirty thousand comments on all your social media about how you’re both in a relationship and how you should just come out already or release your sex tape. Do you really think either Chanyeol or Baekhyun or both aren’t gonna think five times before interacting? There’s nothing wrong with shipping two people. I ship Chanbaek. I ship it hard. I read and write fan fiction, reblog gifs, and pictures and anything else that’s related to them. But I do NOT bombard Byun Baekhyun’s live show with repeated questions about whether Chanyeol and him are together, or how they are in bed, or make a big deal out of the fact that he works out with his best friend. I gym with my best friend. What does that even prove? That they spend time together? Why is that news? And even if you do want to make a big deal out of it, there’s a platform for idiosyncratic delusions, this beast of a website called Tumblr(You’re probably on here if you’re reading this). Use it. Scream about it here. You can even scream about it with me, if you’d like. Don’t use CB’s live’s or social media as a form of expressing your OTT feelings. There’s AO3, and AFF, and LJ for that. All at your welcome disposal. Regardless of whether or not they are in a romantic relationship, please don’t let these boys lose a friendship that is beyond words, and clearly so valuable to both of them.

Toxic [II]

Summary: “We all know him to be a proud, unpleasant sort of man; but this would be nothing if you really liked him.” -Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice. His dark demeanor is nothing more than a mystery to you. His dark past explains the reasoning of his desired passion to completely destroy every inch of your innocence.

Warning: Angst [M]

Word Count: 4k

Toxic Masterlist

Originally posted by co-kai-ne


It was clouding your thoughts like smoke, suffocating you with every inch of those words that left his lips. His voice cycling through with every breath of air you thought you could take. You had known him for less than 24 hours and he had already made it clear that he was going to the center of your attention without having to tell you.

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hansbekhart

reblogged your post and added:

I’d rather discuss what you think of my argument.

Then I hope you don’t mind me putting this in an extra post, as the original thread is getting quite long. 

I’m copying/posting your last reply here:

I don’t think it’s a contradiction though. I think it’s a miscommunication, stemming mostly from privilege. The disconnect in this argument is over what, exactly, is problematic.

Fandom has always imagined itself as a place of progressive values - a place where (predominately) women can explore their own sexuality and recreate community in a way that isn’t hostile to them, as a lot of the real world is. But this world we’ve created still has all of the prejudices that each member was brought up with - there’s no way that it couldn’t, firstly because many of our prejudices are invisible to us, and secondly because a lot of fandom works were created specifically to remix that already-existing culture: fan fiction is a mirror that we bend to find stories that include ourselves.

I think that the expression “fandom has always imagined itself” is a bit of a generalisation that does not hold up to close scrutiny: fandom is extremely diverse, and I don’t necessarily think that everyone who participates in it - or even the majority of people who participate in it - frame their contribution in these terms, or see it in that light. 

So while such a narrative exists, especially when it comes to the defense and representation of fandom in media, I wouldn’t agree that this idea of “progressiveness” is at the center of fandom for a majority of fans - at least not for those who never engage on a meta level. People often politicize fandom, but I’d argue that fandom, as such, is personal rather than political.

I absolutely agree wtih you that fandom content reflects our perception of the world, and all of our biases. But for me, that’s pretty much a given, and I’d like to add that the same applies to every kind of art and literature: whether we try to avoid it or not, everthing that we create is a reflection of our environment (geographical, historical, political), our personality, our prejudices and biases, our personal issues. 

And since it’s squeezed through what could arguably be called a feminist lens (because it positions female sexuality and self-exploration at its center), we fool ourselves into thinking that all the bad stuff - the parts of the world we were so alienated by that we were compelled to fix them - all that ugliness, we think it all gets left on the other side of the glass.

I don’t think that is the case, actually. At least I can’t confirm that from my own perspective and experiences. Very few people that I’ve spoken to - very few people who I argue with - would claim that fanworks are necessarily “better” or “less problematic” than the sources they derive from. Such a statment, I think, would be difficult to uphold when one takes a closer look at the average fanwork, the 90% between “My Immortal” and your Personal Favorite. 

I think that there might be a bit of confusion - or disagreement - about the nature and purpose of fanworks. In my understanding, fanworks are a form of wish-fulfillment and self-empowerment for those who create it. Fanworks can be progressive, sure, and they can be political, but I see that as side effect rather than a primary purpose. First and foremost, fanworks are hedonistic. They are the self-expression of individuals, the purely self-indulgent outlet for personal creativity. 

Of course, I have no idea what goes on in the mind of any given fan creator or writer. But speaking from my own perspective, when I write fanfiction, I write things for my own, personal enjoyment, for my own, personal amusement, or, if I wanted to be flippant: Because I can. Nothing inherently progressive about that. 

I’m saying “we” not just as a fan, but as a demographically representative one. Fandom is majority straight, white, and female - I’m two of those things, and can pass for the third. The reason I called this the White Feminism of discourse is because that’s where I think it comes from: a centering of a certain sort of narrative and victimhood to the exclusion of all others. Not necessarily out of maliciousness, but because a large proportion of fans don’t see the persistently racist problems in fandom - because it doesn’t affect them. Because they’ve never experienced racism personally, and are blind to the way they (we) perpetuate the microaggressions or outright racism that literally every fan of color has experienced in fandom. It’s a language we can’t hear unless we really, really listen.

Fandom is mostly white and female, though not necessarily straight, but that’s another matter. 

I think we need to make a distinction here, and that’s between fandom as a space for individuals, and the idea of fandom as it is currently presented in media by pro-fandom voices, which indeed often paints fandom as a beacon of progressiveness and female empowerment. 

When it comes to the individual fan and their contribution to fandom … I hate to say it, but there is no reason why any given fan should priotitize anything but their own, selfish enjoyment. I’m not in fandom to contribute to the joy and happiness of other people. I’m here for my own. 

Creating art of fiction is always a selfish act. No writer writes something they don’t want to write (unless they’re paid for it, or course), no artist paints something that they don’t want to paint. That’s how we create: it’s our personal, self-indulgent vision that we turn into something that other people might enjoy. Or not enjoy, whatever the case may be. 

The argument that I often hear is “if your personal enjoyment comes at the price of other people’s hurt feelings, it’s oppressive and immoral”, but that only applies when I actually force people to consume the product of my imagination. But as long as they have the freedom of choice, why should their feelings take precedence over mine? 

Especially, and I feel that this is an important point that doesn’t get stressed often enough, when I don’t even know who these people are? We’re on the internet. I have no idea whether the person I’m dealing with is actually who they claim to be. I have no idea what their life looks like. I have no idea whether they were actually “triggered” by something (I’m using quotation marks because the way the word is used here on tumblr, it can mean anything, from mild annoyance to great anxiety) or are just striving strive for power and control. 

I can totally get where the people who write this sort of positivity posts about fandom are coming from, and I can get why it seems like these are attacks out of left field. But when you (and not meaning you specifically, OP - all of us) claim essentially that all media/fandom is good, and all ways of consuming media/fan fiction are good, that ignores the way that media/fandom continues to be a really hostile and ugly place for a lot of people. You may mean, “There is no bad way to explore your sexuality,” but it can sound like you really mean “Even if it includes explicit, unqualified racism.”

But who says that media/fandom has to be “good”? Who made that rule when I wasn’t looking? When I “joined” fandom, I never agreed to limit my own, personal enjoyment to what minorities find acceptable. And while I get that some people think they’re entitled to that - that it should be my goal as a “decent person” to make them feel included, safe, welcome, and cared for - that’s not what I’m here for. 

You may find this a controversial statement, but actually, it shouldn’t be controversial at all. I get that some people would like me to sign a metaphorical contract, with the fine print written in their favor, but the truth is that such a contract does not exist within fandom.

No other person has the actual authority to tell me that my own enjoyment should not be my sole and ultimate goal. People might think they have the moral authority to tell me that, but there is no reason why I should have to accept that.

Why should I let other people dictate what my contribution to fandom should look like? Or, what’s more to the point, why should I let a bunch of strangers with funny urls do that, who willingly choose to engage with the content that I post on my blog or to my AO3 account? 

ESPECIALLY because, when confronted with that exact challenge, a lot of people double down on that and admit that yeah, the racism doesn’t really bother them. Which is what’s happening here.

It’s not a contradiction, but an unwillingness to confront an ugly truth about fandom because it doesn’t personally affect you. Fandom has a huge problem with racism, and pointing that out is not an act of The Morality Police.

Well, I’m one of these people. Though I think it’s fair to say that while racism does, in fact, bother me, my understanding of racism does not conform with the US American definition, and I’m not inclined to re-frame my worldview according to US American sociological theories just because fan culture happens to be dominated by US Americans. 

It’s not only racism, though, is it? It’s  “abuse” and “homophobia” and “transphobia” and “ableism” and “misogyny” and so on, and I can tell you that most of what I’ve written and published would raise the hackles of one minority or another, if they came looking. 

Or rather, raise the hackles of some individuals, which is another issue: very rarely, in my experience, has there been an agreement within a minority group on whether something was actually “harmful” or “offensive”. So, when I’m faced with a couple of people who come to my inbox, often in a very hostile manner, to tell me that something is offensive to people of color, or Jewish people, or trans people, or disabled people, and so on, they might be making a lot of noise, but I have no real means to say whether they are actually representative of the minority they claim to speak for.

In reality, it might look a little like this: My piece of dark fic, which was clearly labeled as such, got twohundred hits. Ten people left kudos, one left a positive but trivial comment, and now suddenly three people, one after the other, leave their comments in quick succession, neiher politely worded nor inviting a discussion, informing me that this piece of fiction is problematic and needs to disappear. Because they say so. 

That’s the point where I have to ask myself: if I give in to that kind of intimidation and pressure, am I doing it because these people are in the right, or because I’m afraid? Am I willing to follow their moral code, which apparently includes dogpiling, intimidation, and name-calling, or do I trust my own? 

Meanwhile, the people in my comment section are in all likelihood not willing to take my opinion into account. Any attempt on my side to justify myself just leads to statements like “check your privilege”, “you’re a nazi apologist”, “white (cis, straight, abled) people don’t get a say in this”. Disagreement is not an option. They’ve decided that my content problematic, that I am problematic, and that’s that.

I’ve seen this play out in a variety of instances, and quite honestly, I think it’s very important that people don’t give in to that kind of bullying. 

Finally, let me just add, for good measure: I think you’re right in one point, and that is that we might want to stop pretending that fandom is all about progressiveness, when progressiveness is mostly accidental, and yes, we can absolutely point out that fandom content reflects the preferences of those who contribute to it. If that’s mostly white women, the content will reflect that, as we’ve basically agreed above. 

On the other hand, if everyone keeps making the kind of content that they want to see, instead of bemoaning that others don’t make it for them, fandom will continue to change.

Just don’t expect fans to go to great length to make fandom a better place for others if that’s not what they signed up for. 

dean ambrose { spiders }

      PETE - BARON - TYLER - SAMI - FINN

 NOTES: As promised, the Dean Ambrose version. I think this one turned out to be more sexy than fluffy, but it’s still fluffy… I hope it is, at least. Apologies if he’s not IC here. I tried? I want to do a TJ Perkins and a Cesaro one next, but I make no promises because I also have a few other ideas that I might do too….  – love, Amber.

   TAGGING: @alexablss , @believe-that-001 , @littledeadrottinghood and @writergrrrl29.. you are all awesome and I love you all and I’m also tagging @fan-fiction-galore because she’s a sweetheart and I think she’d like the fluffiness that may or may not be present.

  WARNINGS: Partial nudity, Amber’s potty mouth and an intense makeout. This one is strictly SFW, though God knows Dean and imagined reader both seemed to strongly want otherwise..


I was super engrossed in a horror movie when I felt something crawling up my shirt, slowly moving from my abdomen to my tits. I jumped up and shook out my shirt on instinct, but instead of falling out of the shirt, whatever it was moved into my bra cup. Suffice to say, I shed the Guns N Roses baggy t shirt I was wearing and my M&M’s went flying everywhere as I hurriedly stripped off my bra too.

It was that exact moment that I knew I’d probably just fucked up. I froze and screamed like a banshee, a sofa cushion over my bare upper body as my room mate coughed from the doorway.. Or he was coughing until I felt the damn crawling sensation marching right back up my leg.. Then I launched myself right into Dean’s arms, pointing and stammering and just being extra about it, basically.  "Kill it! Kill it now!“ I was practically shrieking.

Dean bit his lip, his gaze not leaving my eyes after the one accidental glimpse he’d gotten of my tits. His face was a little red and he chuckled, nodding to the floor. "Kill what?”

“Did you not fucking see Spiderzilla?”
When he realized what all the fuss was about – because the spider chose that moment to scamper up the living room wall, he almost dropped me, the ass was laughing so hard. I pouted and he shifted me around in his arms, eventually sitting me on the counter separating the kitchen from the living room.

I was still clinging to him and our lips brushed when he told me quietly, “If ya want it dead.. Ya gonna have to let me go, doll.”

I blushed a deep shade of red beneath my tan when I realized that yes, I was clinging to him and yes, I was shirtless and the sofa cushion I’d grabbed for the sake of ‘decency’ was long gone.. And he was shirtless too and damned if his skin against mine didn’t feel just like heaven. I sucked in a breath and tried to get myself calm.

The spider scampered back towards the web it spun in the living room and Dean eyed me a few seconds. “I’m gonna step away now. Are ya okay?”

“Just kill it, please?”
He gave a nod and lifted the high heel I’d taken off earlier in the afternoon, stealthily moving towards the web the spider retreated to after scaring the living shit out of me. When the spider managed to fall out of the web and down onto him, and he was swearing and jumping around too, I couldn’t help but giggle a little bit, quickly going silent when he turned and said “I oughta just leave it alive.. Laughin at me.” while pretending to pout.

“DEAN!” I pointed to the spider as it scampered for a corner and quickly, he bought his foot down on top of it.. And then, he grabbed something and scooped the spider and it’s guts onto it and pitched it into the garbage… When I looked up again, he was standing in front of me, this look in his eyes, his tongue slowly trailed over his lips.

He was holding my gaze intently and he wasn’t backing down. He moved to stand between my legs, his hands gripping my thighs and when his gaze lowered accidentally, he swallowed hard and looked back up at me.

I bit my lip as they started to tingle, this urge to kiss him overtaking me. I’ve probably been in love with the dork since we became room mates about two years ago, but every time I even think about making a move, I chicken out or the timing is wrong or something else.. Excuses, basically.. Not to mention I’m on the shy side and Dean, he tends to focus solely on what he does for a living, I mean in the entire two years we’ve been room mates, I haven’t once come home to find another girl with him or heard him sneaking in past midnight with a female giggling and kissing all over him.

I never find phone numbers in his pockets or lipstick on his collar..
So maybe he just doesn’t date?

He grumbled something as his hand reached out, resting across the nape of my neck. He scooted me closer to his body so I was completely pressed against him, clinging to him again and nipping at my lips, he mumbled into the kiss, “That’s better. Just stay right there.” and I whimpered, gripping at him, my legs biting into his hips to bring me even closer to his body. My hand dragged through his hair and I could taste the energy drink on his lips as we kissed. He groaned and nipped at my lower lip. “Vanilla lipgloss.” he mused as I nodded. “Tastes good.. Sweet.”

His hands wandered up my sides, cupping my breasts, pushing them together as he let this low growl leave his lips and he bit his lip, his gaze meeting mine. “So soft.” his voice was quieter and huskier, his slight accent thicker when he spoke. I could feel wetness flooding my thighs and instinctively, I felt them clench and I tried to catch up and process what was evidently happening.

“Dean?”
“Yeah, babe?” he met my gaze and then he rubbed himself against me, his cock strained against his jeans as he admitted, “Two fuckin years, babe..  Danced around the way I felt about ya for two fuckin years. But tonight.. Tonight when ya threw yourself at me because that spider freaked ya out.. I can’t keep it in anymore.” and I whimpered, rubbing against him in return, craving the friction.

“You have no idea, do you?” I muttered against his lips, looking into his eyes. “I feel the same way.”

“Why didn’t ya say somethin?” he asked, a confused look.
“I have seen the women you work with? And yeah.. I’m just me.”

“I fuckin hate spiders.” he muttered and I added with a nod, “Me too.. But that one kind of did us a solid?”

“I still hate 'em. Ya probably the only person I’ve ever willingly killed one for.” Dean admitted and I leaned in, stealing a kiss as I smiled against his lips and held his face in my hands. “Aww.. You know, when you’re not being a grump, you can be a real sweetheart.”

“Keep that between us.” Dean chuckled as he picked me up, carrying me down the hall to his room…

Roommates ch. 6: Dangerous game

Tyler was scared. Josh seemed to be carefree, but tyler was slipping deeper and deeper. Or maybe josh was just as deep and he didn’t realize it yet. do things people say during sex ever really mean anything? I’ve been thinking of you all day. Couldn’t wait to get back. If that was so true, how would he make it 3 days without tyler? Tyler purposefully brought up the trip twice during their date, hoping at one point josh would ask him to go. Both times, josh skirted the issue or completely missed the point. Of course he could have just came right out and asked to go, but if josh wanted him to go, he certainly would have asked first. So it was obvious that he didn’t want him to go. Tyler laid in bed all day doing what he did best - hopelessly overthinking things. He should be happy, but instead, he’s wallowing in his own self-pity.

When josh came home, he didn’t see tyler first thing as he usually did. He frowned, missing the younger man’s presence. “Tyler?” josh called. When there was no response, he figured he must be in his room. He decided it wouldn’t hurt to check on him, considering he was no longer just his roommate. When he opened the door to his room, he seen a lump under a pile of blankets which he assumed was tyler. Still not satisfied, he walked closer to the bed and pulled the blanket down a tiny bit. Tyler didn’t move, just inhaled sharply and kept sleeping. He pulled it down past his shoulders and caressed tyler’s smooth skin, from his bare shoulder up to his neck and face, admiring how his eyelashes fanned over delicate cheekbones. Tyler stirred a bit, but still did not wake up. Josh took off his shoes and laid next to tyler. The motion of the bed must have woke him, because he finally opened his pretty eyes.

“Hi josh” tyler spoke, lips curling into a soft smile.

“Hey, sleepy boy. Still worn out from yesterday?” josh asked.  

“Mmmm, how could i not be?” tyler groaned, relaxing as josh scooted closer to him and pulled him in.

“Can you take off your clothes?” tyler asked, wanting the comforting sensation of josh’s skin on his.

“Already? But i just got here.” josh joked, and tyler playfully nudged him. Still lying in bed, he stripped down to just his boxers like tyler.

“Better?” josh asked as he laid on his back and tyler snuggled up to him, breathing in his scent and kissing his chest.

“Yes. you’re so cold.” tyler said, looking up to meet josh’s lips in a soft kiss.

“You’re so warm baby, warm me up.” josh replied. tyler whimpered as tongues became involved in the kiss. Josh met his whimper with a deep chuckle when tyler dipped down to suck his collarbone, then his nipple. He leaned his head back against the pillow, letting tyler take control.

“You horny for me, baby?” josh asked, lightly scraping his nails against tyler’s scalp and breathing heavily. Tyler finished with a chaste kiss to his neck.

“God, yes. Been dying to feel you inside me all day.” tyler admitted. Yes, he was worrying about josh being gone and the possible temptations, but his body had other concerns.

“Oh, is that so? Well i can help with that, turn over.” josh said. His voice sounded more demanding than usual and it caused a stir of excitement in the pit of tyler’s stomach. He quickly flipped onto his stomach like josh demanded.

“So eager” Josh teased, sitting up on his knees and beginning to massage tyler’s neck, working his way down his shoulder blades in slow circles. Tyler moaned appreciatively, not sure how else to respond to such treatment. He continued working down his spine and sides, peppering kisses along the way.

“You’re so good with your hands, josh” tyler said, still moaning.

“Oh yeah? I’m good with other things too.” he kept working lower until he got to the top of tyler’s ass and paused. Tyler gasped, not sure what to expect next. He half expected him to keep going, but instead he worked his way back up. Tyler was not about to complain though as it felt amazing. He was getting harder by the second and he moaned josh’s name needily.  

“Tell me more about how you want me inside you, baby.” josh said, working his way lower again. The tone in josh’s voice in combination with his strong hands at his waist and what he was asking caused tyler’s brain to short circuit.

“I-i kept thinking about your thick cock in me, stretching and stuffing me so full with your cum. It feels amazing when you fuck me and i can’t get enough.” tyler answered, words spilling from his lips like truth serum as josh’s hands rested on the backs of his thighs. Josh’s cock strained as painfully as tyler’s, but he wanted to carry this out. Tyler was already putty in josh’s hands, writhing and moaning under his touch.

“That’s right, baby. And this cock can’t get enough of that tight, pink little fuckhole of yours either.” josh said, grabbing the top of tyler’s undies and pulling them down over his ass. Tyler lifted his hips so josh could get them all the way down, then his hands were back at his thighs and guiding them apart. He sat between tyler’s legs, hands finally massaging his perfect ass as tyler grabbed his pillow, biting it in pleasure. Josh sensed his desperation and held his cheeks open, dripping saliva onto his hole and began massaging the rim with two fingers.

“Ohhhhh fuck, josh please” tyler begged as josh slowly pushed them in all the way to the knuckles.

“Did you finger yourself earlier, ty?” josh asked, thrusting his fingers in and out.

“y-yes, ahhh” tyler sighed. His cock laid hard between his body and the mattress, giving him a friction that was almost too much with josh fingering him. Sweat beaded up at his temples as he strained not to fuck the mattress.

“Good boy. On your knees, i want you to cum just from me fucking you” josh instructed, smacking tyler’s ass lightly. Tyler scooted up on his knees, resting on his forearms and arching his back for josh. He felt josh leave the bed for a brief moment before he was back, the bed dipping behind him and the pop of a cap. Josh squeezed some lube onto his fingers before they were back in tyler. He worked up a pace until tyler was a panting mess, rocking back against josh’s fingers, the only sounds being tyler’s moans and fast, wet squelching. Josh curled his fingers, making tyler squeal and his whole body to jolt. He repeated the motion, inducing the same response.

“Is that it?” josh asked, rubbing the bundle of nerves inside tyler with the pads of his fingers. Tyler arched more, writhing and panting as josh stroked the spot harder.

“M-more” tyler whined. josh leaned down, licking around where his fingers were all the way inside tyler. Josh was loving it as much as him. He loved keeping his boy on edge and listening to the assortment of whines, moans, and whimpers that tyler provided as he ate him out. Tyler obediently kept his hands in front of him, continuing to rock back against josh’s fingers as his achingly hard cock swayed and dripped onto the sheets. Josh removed his fingers, grabbing tyler’s hips and sliding in his full length, filling him up the way he wanted. He set a brutal pace, rocking tyler forward, skin slapping with the force of each thrust.

“f-fuck, your cock feels s-so good” tyler praised, chest dropping down to the mattress and back arching almost painfully. Josh pulled him back to meet his thrusts.  

“You like that, baby. Like being fucked mercilessly like a little s-slut, oh shit i’m close” josh grunted, thrusting even harder and setting off tyler’s climax. his cock spurted several times untouched, leaving a thick trail of white on the sheet.

“Fuck, tyler” josh moaned, squeezing his hips tighter and speeding up his thrusts to cum in him before it became too much. Tyler’s broken little whimpers of oversensitivity set him off, riding it out until his cock twitched a final time. He gently pulled out, leaning down to lick his cum from tyler’s gaping hole, gripping his ass like his life depended on it. Tyler shivered at the gush of warm liquid filling him, followed by josh’s slick tongue teasing his used hole as cum dripped down his inner thigh.

“Joshhhh” tyler whined, and josh realized his boy must be sensitive as fuck.

“Sorry, baby. Got carried away” josh admitted, lying back down. tyler flipped onto his side facing josh, avoiding his own cum puddle and catching his breath.

“You’d tell me anything, right?” josh asked, breaking a comfortable silence. Tyler looked at him, somewhat confused by the randomness.

“Yes, of course.” tyler answered, unsure why he was asking. But to josh, it was obvious. tyler wasn’t very good at hiding things, at least not like josh. 

“How do you feel?” josh asked, hoping tyler would understand what he wanted to know because he wasn’t even sure.

“I feel so good, josh. You make me feel so good every time.” tyler said, nuzzling josh’s neck and kissing him.

“That’s good, baby. You make me feel so good too, but is something else bothering you? you could tell me.” josh said.

“Umm..” tyler mumbled. He had flashbacks to earlier that day - obsessing over josh and his trip, possibly meeting someone and leaving. He stayed silent for a moment, not sure how to bring it up.

“It wouldn’t be…about my trip in a couple days, would it? Because I was thinking, if you’d like, maybe you could go with me?” josh asked, and tyler could not believe what he was hearing.

“Oh my god, how did you…”

“Well, the closer it gets, the more i’ve been thinking about how much i’ll miss your cute little ass even if it’s only for a few days. so if you wouldn’t mind staying in a hotel…” josh said.

“No, i wouldn’t mind. I didn’t know how to ask without seeming like some clingy headcase” tyler admitted.

“I could never think that of my boyfriend” josh assured, a little insecure at his use of the word ‘boyfriend’. he expected tyler to say something like “you mean friends with benefits”. But when tyler didn’t correct him and he seen realization spread across his face, then a smile break out, josh’s heart melted. 

anonymous asked:

there are some starco shippers that are apparently harassing people supporting other ships. since part of the fandom seems to see you as some kind of authority, could you please call those annoying fans out for their behavior? thanks

I’m sorry for this, unfortunately shipping often becomes source of rudeness, even harassment, on Internet. And this is absurd. I understand full well being passionate about something fictional, but this shouldn’t ever be a reason for attacking what other people’s ship, the ideas and opinions they have on the show. 
I have no authority to police others’ behaviour, nor I feel it’d be right, but…

To whoever may concern,
Come on, stop being like that! Being polite should be the norm even on the web! And no one likes entitlement, nor people who defend their positions by insulting others.

anonymous asked:

I've been following the discussions about the Supergirl cast incident and your opinion that a large part of the issue is that the cast doesn't understand fandom culture, especially non-canon shipping. As someone involved in fandom for a few years now, but has never seriously shipped a non-canon couple, I would agree that fanon shipping is a subculture all its own. And tbh, it's one that I've never quite understood in spite of being actively involved in fandom for years. (1/5)

I’ve asked non-canon shippers why why choose their ship, and isn’t it frustrating to support a relationship that they never get to see on screen? The general answer has been that they HAVE to ship non-canon, b/c the relationships they want to see (usually LGBTQ relationships) aren’t represented by most shows. OK, fair enough. But I still didn’t really get it. I can honestly say that I’ve never sent hate to anyone for shipping non-canon – that’s not my style – but I didn’t really get it. (2/5)

I had a small light bulb moment recently, though. An anon sent hate to one of my shipmates over her fic, in which she portrayed the main female character as overweight. (The character is not overweight in canon.) Anon called the fic – and the character – gross and asked the writer why she would twist the character that way. I was indignant on behalf of my shipmate that she’d been insulted like that for a work of fiction, in which she should be able to express herself however she wants. (3/5)

Furthermore, as an overweight woman myself, I was infuriated that this anon implied that fat women have no place in romance stories. Don’t I have just as much right to see myself represented in fic, as the thin and conventionally beautiful women do? And that’s when I remembered all the comments from LGBTQ fans who ship non-canon couples and just want to see themselves on screen, and it clicked. (4/5)

I am NOT trying to say that these experiences are equivalent. I know that the LGBTQ community struggles more for representation than a straight, white, overweight woman. But this is the (very roundabout) way that I, someone who’s actually in fandom, came to understanding non-canon shipping a little better. So I’m not really surprised that the showrunners and casts of popular TV shows don’t get it. It’s very unfortunate that they don’t understand, but not surprising. (5/5)

It’s good that you found a way to understand this.  I do know that a lot of fandom doesn’t understand it either.  Especially when “boy slash” and femslash actually have different and basically unrelated subcultures.

I’d add two things for you.  The first is that often times the canon LGBT ships aren’t treated the same way as canon het ships.  There is never a will they wont they phase for us.  We are always told before the characters even appear on screen who the designated gay couple is and there will only be one of them so sucks for you if you don’t like them.  Could you imagine what your shipping experience would be like if you didn’t get a choice to about which elements of a couple you prefer or not.  Sucks to be you if you like the tropes around Captain Swan.  All you get on screen is Rumbelle.  And you have no hope of getting another couple.  LGBT ships are often less visibly affectionate.  A kiss is racey.  All this stuff about implied sex scenes that Once canon shippers are demanding?  Pipe dream for us even when we’re dealing with canon representation.  Oh… and time.  Straight people always seem to think the LGBT couple is on screen a lot longer than they actually are.  By something like 50%.  So we get no choice, a less full story, and half of it.  And that’s if you are shipping a canon LGBT couple.

Where as if you are shipping an non canon couple anything in the world is possible.  The other day I reblogged someone who said that fan fiction was the only place two women meet and immediately start flirting.  It’s the only place where no one has to have a coming out story or explain their gayness.  A non canon LGBT ship is literally the only way we can find the stories that are written equally to the ones you enjoy on screen because we write them ourselves.

Do I love canon LGBT couples?  Sure.  More of them please.  But let’s stop pretending that they’re equal or they should be enough.

And let’s stop treating non canon shippers like they’re naive fools.  No one needs you to tell them that their ship isn’t happening.  Even if they’re asking when it will be they’re having a fantasy life where they are safe and normal and they get to ask content creators when they’ll be getting something that you get given automatically.  Maybe the casts and the writers don’t want to be pestered.  But why are we prioritizing a minor annoyance over someone’s right to just have a tiny space to imagine that they might be safe and normal and accepted totally? 

So nonnie i’m going to leave you with a charge, you straight shipper, the next time you hear one of your ship mates say “well they’re just letting them down easy” or “telling them the truth” or “letting them know it wont happen” I’d like you to tell them to stop assuming they know better than the non canon lgbt shipper.

anonymous asked:

Sam has never been more appealing then he is now. I love Outlander and Jamie as a character and Sam does an amazing job. But, it has been so great to see him do something outside of Outlander. Sure, some so called fans are upset that he isn't actually the red haired fictional character of their dreams, but to me, it seems like he is finding his footing and adjusting to fame. He just seems more confident lately. Love your blog and I wish there were more fans like you who simply support Sam.

All of this! Maybe some will not agree, but I LOVE to see Sam out of the Outlander world. And I agree, now he is really at his best, physically, mentally. It’s time to shine. And thank you so much for the compliments to my blog. My purpose is to support Sam, his career, his activities. I want people to see a great actor but also a wonderful person.

Out of Place (my first fic)

Title: Out of Place
Request: nope :p
Warnings: none… unless some realll fluffy cuddles count!
A/N: This is my first official fic and I really hope you liked it! I’ve never written a reader insert *cough* or fan fiction in general *cough* but I hope you enjoyed it!! Thanks for the read! Feel free to point out any errors or give me some constructive criticism! ~ enjoy! <3

When you woke up that morning nothing felt out of place. The morning sun streamed through the blinds, playing gently on your features. Something however began to feel different, something felt off. Your body felt warmer than usual, and the blankets draped around your waist seemed heavier. Before you took any action to solve the mystery, you looked sleepily around the room.

That’s when you noticed a pair of black skinny jeans on the floor. Beside them were a pair of black converse. You didn’t own black converse, or at least you didn’t remember ever owning a pair. Suddenly, you felt what you thought was your blanket nuzzle into your Y/H/C hair. You froze, hearing your heart thud in your ears. You slowly turned your head to glance at the figure who was currently holding you to their chest. All you could see was a floof of green hair sticking up from beneath the covers.

You took your hand and raised it to better reveal the cuddle culprit by moving the covers down. Just as you began to move them, the figure bent down and kissed the base your neck, their lips warm and soft to the touch. “G̵o̶o̷d̸ ̵m̸o̶r̸n̶i̶n̶g̷ ̶Y̸/̶N̷,̶ ̸h̸o̴w̴ ̸d̴i̸d̷ ̶y̴o̶u̵ ̴s̵l̵e̴e̴p̷ ̸l̸o̷v̴e̶?̵” his voice was still full of sleep. You soon recognized the way it sounded, the way his accent stuck in your brain. You put a voice to a face and soon rolled over to reveal Anti. A smirk played on his lips as he said, “D̵i̴d̵ ̸y̴a̵ ̷m̶i̵s̷s̶ ̶m̴e̵?̷”

Miss him? He snuck into your bedroom during the night and cuddled you after not seeing you for weeks! You were mad, but seeing him with a toothy grin plastered upon his face made up for it in too many ways to count. “Of course I missed you. I just wished you would’ve come sooner.” You spoke as you lovingly gazed into his green eyes. “I̷ ̷k̴n̵o̶w̴ ̸I̸ ̷s̸h̴o̴u̷l̶d̴'̸v̴e̷ ̸b̵e̵e̸n̵ ̴h̷e̶r̸e̵ ̷s̸o̴o̵n̶e̷r̸,̵ ̴b̵u̷t̴ ̸I̷ ̴h̵a̸d̸ ̸b̸u̴s̷i̵n̶e̵s̸s̷ ̶t̵o̷ ̵a̴t̶t̷e̵n̷d̸ ̶t̷o̷.”

He looked at you with a more sad expression on his face, but that soon changed to a happy one when you leaned your forehead against his, noses gently brushing. You brought a hand up to the side of his face and rubbed your thumb along the side of his cheek. “It’s okay, I could never be mad at you.” He leaned into your touch ever so slightly. A low sound almost like a purr rumbled in his throat. At the sight of another sweet and tired smile on his lips, your heart melted. Before you knew it his eyes were closed and he had pulled you into his chest. You too drifted off to sleep listening to his heart beat and feeling his chest rise and fall.

Crookedly in Love - Chapter Forty Four (A Shawn Mendes Fanfiction)

Shawn and I got back to the hotel late at night. The gala had stretched on, and I had smiled for far too long. Pretending like Shawn was the love of my life. That he and I got along great.

Everyone who met us was curious to know about our story. The best friends who fell in love. The magical duo who could write hit songs together.

I exhaled with relief once I was back in my own hotel room. No more masks. Shawn and I barely uttered goodnight to one another.

I checked my phone, and I had saw the missed call notification from Brad. I decided to ignore it for now. It was best not to get involved with more complicated relationships.

The next morning, I went down to scout out the breakfast options, when I heard my name from behind.

Selena was sitting at a table with her laptop. I walked over to her, smiling.

“Hey girl,” she greeted. “Sit! I just ordered my eggs.”

I sat down with her. I couldn’t believe she was sitting across from me. I mean, this was every person’s dream. She seemed so normal.

I still felt weird about her calculated stares she gave us last night, but maybe I was overthinking things. I tended to do that a lot.

“So, did you have fun last night?” Selena asked.

“Yeah, it was super fun,” I answered.

“Taylor and I got fries after,” she laughed. “Did you and Shawn hang out afterwards?”

“Um, no,” I hesitated. “We were just so tired.”

“Yeah, makes sense,” she responded. There was that strange stare again. “I love you guys together. I think you both are so adorable.”

“Thanks,” I laughed nervously.

“So, wait, tell me. When did you guys officially get together?”

“Um, we got together…” I trailed off. There was a lot of back and forth in the beginning, and I had to get the timeline right. “Shortly after we went on tour with the Vamps and Fifth Harmony.”

“He initiated?”

“Yeah.”

“Did you guys ever go through a rough patch? Because of the media and stuff.”

“Um, sort of,” I alluded. “It was hard at first because everyone was watching your every move.”

“Tell me about it,” she responded. “It’s like living under a microscope. Like you’re under observation for a science experiment at all times.”

“Exactly.”

“Yeah, like what are her eating patterns? Sleeping habits? Her favourite places to go?”

I laughed. “Yeah, Shawn and I had some arguments in public and then they would be broadcasted the next day. You just forget people are trailing you.”

“It’s weird,” she nodded. “Did anyone ever catch wind of what you were arguing about?”

“No, thank God,” I said, laughing. She laughed too, but her laughter was uneasy. Maybe mine was too.

“Shawn seems great though. He seems to worship you.”

I snorted. “Not always.”

“Hmm?” she asked, intrigued.

“Oh, nothing,” I said. “He definitely is great now. He definitely used to take me for granted in our relationship though.”

Now, I was speaking easily, forgetting about public truth versus actual.

“He did? I thought you guys said Shawn was the one who was in love with you secretly. That you kind of took him for granted.”

My cheeks burned.

“I feel like the feeling went back and forth,” I said, nervously. I didn’t want my voice to shake because that would be a dead giveaway that I was lying.

What was wrong with me? I had to be more careful. She nodded, letting it go.

“Ah, yeah, for sure,” she said. “I have to use the ladies’ room. Be back in a second.”

As she got up and left, her laptop screen flickered with a new message. My eyes flit towards it, and I saw an article of Shawn and myself up. I narrowed my eyes in suspicion.

Why was she doing her research on us?

I took a sip of water the waitress poured for me, and I stewed in this feeling of self-consciousness. We carried on through breakfast like I saw nothing. But doubt and suspicion creeped into the back of my mind.

*

I was about to meet up with Shawn to practice for the tour that night. I was going to tell him what I saw on Selena’s computer.

Something was not sitting right with me. She was snooping for something. Or she wanted something. Or she just wanted Shawn.

All of these things were tumbling around in my mind, and I didn’t know how to bring it up to him. Usually, I would feel comfortable approaching him. But seeing as we barely talk these days, I felt uneasy.

When I walked into the studio, I heard laughter. I furrowed my eyebrows as I walked in. Lo and behold, Selena was there sitting next to Shawn. She was carrying a cup of tea and wearing a large oversized sweater, and she still looked like a model.

I rolled my eyes to myself. Something in the pit of my stomach roared.

“Hey guys,” I tried to say calmly.

Selena and Shawn both turned to me. She and he were smiling wide.

“Hi Jules!” Shawn said. Selena waved.

“Hey,” I said again.

“Well, I’ll let you guys get to your writing,” Selena said, getting up.

I don’t know what willed me to do this, but I followed her out.

“Hey, Selena, wait up.”

She slowed her pace, and I walked out with her. She looked at me with a smile, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

I didn’t mean to confront her. But something was blazing inside of me that this was not right. Or she had ulterior motives.

“Sorry, I just,” I faltered. “I don’t know, I just wanted to say that I don’t want there to be any weirdness between us.”

I didn’t exactly sound intimidating.

“What do you mean?” she asked.

Her head tilted appropriately in a confused manner, but I could tell she was nervous.

“I just, I mean, I don’t know. Lately, I’ve been feeling some sort of tension.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she replied.

“Selena, come on,” I said. Not in a mean way. Just in a ‘let’s not play these games’ way.

“Julia…”

“I saw your computer screen this morning. You were reading about me and Shawn.”

Her face flushed. “Oh, I…”

“I’m just saying…I mean, I don’t know if you like him, but…”

She studied my face. She looked like she were going to divulge a huge secret. She looked like she had something she wanted to say and she so furiously wanted to let me know. But, that look went away, as she though better of it.

“I’m sorry, Julia,” she said. “You’re right. I’ve been flirting with him, and that’s not right. I’ll stop.”

I smiled at her.

“I like you a lot, and I want to keep hanging out. Okay? Let’s just forget about this,” she said.

This conversation was so civil, so normal. It was so normal, it was weird. I nodded, and we hugged.

But something seemed off to me. In the weeks to come, I would find out the real truth she was hiding.

Screw Your Courage to the Sticking Place part 6 (Lin x Reader)

Warnings: a little insecurity and explicit language

A/N: I finally finished planning this out and there’s going to be seven chapters, so this is the second to last one. Also thank you all for the feedback, I love you all so much. 

tags: @21phantasticromances @mukeforpresident

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 


On Tuesday, you head down to the theater to get your final fitting for the light blue dress and dark blue robe that Eliza wears in Best of Wives Best of Women. You walk through the doors at a quarter till two, an extra large caramel latte in your hands.

The fitting actually goes really quick because both the dress and robe still fit perfectly. The dress is soft against your skin, secure around the bottom of your breasts without being too tight. The robe fits equally as well, wrapping around the same spot as the dress. The dress flows loosely to the floor and you can’t help but give a little twirl and admire your reflection in the mirror. 

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I promise imma shut the fuck up in a minute.

But I love that Jacqueline clearly knows how Kat feels about Adena. Probably from the moment Adena got detained. Like when she was telling Kat Adena was brave and didn’t sign the letter as if she was reassuring Kat that she was right to believe in Adena. And when she told Kat she knew how hard it was for her not to send THAT tweet, she seemed like she really did KNOW why it was so hard.

Then, of course, when she went to bail Kat out of jail and LITERALLY had an amused smirk on her face the entire time (what the fan fictions call a “knowing smile”) like she didn’t need to be told it had something to do with Adena. Kat is all “I just reacted” confused by her own actions and Jacqueline is just steady giving her the “my sweet summer child” face.

THEN it was Jacqueline who confirms Adena’s fears to Kat, which led to Kat forgiving Adena and lady kisses.

Bless mom boss!

The List (Gabentine Fan Fiction)

Summary: Gabe and Clem hang out for the first time alone. This is part 1 if you guys want more. Let me know.

Setting: A few months after Clementine comes back with AJ.

Praise or critiques are verrry welcome here!

Gabe sat on the ratty couch, twisting a piece of paper between his fingers. His foot, resting on the coffee table in front of him, tapped along to the rock music thumping in his ears. Well, technically it was one ear. The earbuds were broken on one side, but the CD Player he’d traded for a year ago worked perfectly. In his open ear, Gabe heard three taps at the door followed by a delayed forth one, their knocking code for each other. Gabe shot up and the CD player flew off his leg and onto the floor. He flinched, but decided to focus on his guest first. “Hold on,” Gabe called out. He practically ran over to the mirror in his bathroom. A few hairs stuck out of place and he smoothed them down. He cleared his throat and looked over his clothes for any stains or wrinkles he’d missed on his button-up and jeans.  When Gabe got over to the door, he swung it open a bit too eagerly. Clem stood there with a brow raised at Gabe’s apparent excitement. Today was an important one. It was the first time Clem would come over without Javi home or AJ in tow. She had her hair tied up, though most strands hung around her face, too short to reach the attempted bun. She wore men’s cargo pants and a tank top since it was still hot outside. After the two surveyed each other’s appearance, Clem was the first to speak.

“You gonna let me in?”

Gabe shook his head. “Yeah. Yeah, Come in.” He took a deep breath once she passed through the doorway. He had to get a grip. They’d spent time alone together before but there was something different about doing it on purpose. This meeting had been planned a week ago and that thought was already enough to psych him out. Gabe watched as Clem plopped down on the couch, setting her feet where Gabe’s had just been. How was she so cool about everything? Gabe suddenly felt stupid for dressing like he was on a date or something. It wasn’t a date. Just two friends hanging out. Usually by now they’d be quizzing each other on their weeks and telling funny stories or jokes that they’d heard. Clem seemed perfectly fine with the silence and Gabe realized she’d been studying the fallen CD player. It lay on the floor with the front skinny part hanging off by its edge.

“Oh, shit,” Gabe cursed as he walked over to inspect the damage. The rounded plastic part stayed connected when he lifted it so that was a good sign. Right? He wiggled it, unsure of its purpose.

“Let me see?” Clem leaned forward, holding her hand out. Gabe took the opportunity to sit next to her, giving Clem the device. She opened it, spun the CD, closed it back, and put a earbud to her ear. “No sound. I think it’s broken.”

His mouth dropped open. “What? Are you kid-” Gabe started, but Clem began laughing.

“Gotcha, Dork.”

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