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#I should write a longer concept post about this
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Current fantasy: having you rub your vibrating wand all over my cock while I'm still wearing my tight silky boxers until I cum inside them.
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cherry-leclerc · 5 months
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bye bye baby ☆ dr3
genre: angst
word count: 2.5k
inspired by this !
cherry here!... the req was to write about danny boy, but the concept of this was that i was feeling very dramatic, per usual, duh. wrote this today since i’ve had bye bye baby stuck on REPEAT. 2 posts in 1 day, YIKES. enjoy! :)
The ups and downs that take place in your relationship once Daniel is left without an F1 seat. 
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“What do you mean you’re out?”
Furiously, Daniel unzips his fireproofs as he ties the sleeves around his waist. Rummaging through his duffel bag, he grows more and more impatient. Taking a cautious step forward, you hand him his water bottle. “Thanks,” he lowly mutters as he takes a long sip. He shakes his head as he looks blankly towards the white wall. “They want someone younger. More talented.”
“But you’re talented, Daniel! You’re better than anyone here!”
Letting out a weak smile, he angles himself lower to hug you before pulling away and brushing your hair behind your ear. “No, I don’t think I am anymore.”
That was 2 months ago when news came out that your boyfriend would no longer be driving for McLaren. It was a complete shock, considering everyone loved the bubbly Australian, but it honestly didn’t hurt anyone more than it did you. Often, he would remind you that he was the one left without a seat and that you should be glad you would both have some time to disconnect and be together. 
Shaking your head as you munch grumpily on a stack of pancakes, you say, “I love that you’re around - of course I do - but what they did to you was completely unfair. Who in their right mind expects good results for a shit car? That’s their fault, not yours.”
Walking around the kitchen island, he lets out a smile. “Relax, baby. I get it. You don’t want me around.” Narrowing your eyes, you fling a pair of gloves at his chest - from his recent addiction to dirtbiking. Don’t even, you warn. He lets out a sigh as he opens his mouth for you to pop in a bite. Digging your fork on a piece of pancake, you raise your arm up to feed him. He hums at the taste. “I was kidding, but seriously - it’s okay. I’ll get over it. You should, too.”
As much as he said he was doing fine, you knew something wasn’t right. He was hurt; felt betrayed and it did him no good to keep rejecting his feelings. But you didn’t bring up the topic anymore. You knew he didn’t like the reminder of what once was.
-
Dirt crunches underneath your boots as you walk up to him and Scotty. The Australians are hunched over, trying their best to fix their bikes as they share a bottle of cheap beer underneath the blazing sun. The 29 year old spots you first as he squints his blue eyes at you. You’re up early. You flip him off as you pretend to kick a pile of dirt at him. He comedically raises his arms as he wiggles his brows. “Chloe is looking for you. I think she’s gonna beat your ass.” 
He quickly stands up as he blows a deep breath directly to your boyfriend's face. You cringe. They share a quick look before Daniel shoots a thumbs up. “You’re good.” Thanking him, Scotty rushes past you as he hands you his left over beer. Making your way over to the brunette, you take a seat next to him as you spill the remaining dark liquid.
“Isn’t it too early to be drinking?”
“Isn’t it too early to be looking so beautiful?”
You muster a glare. “Don’t change the subject, Daniel.” Avoiding eye contact, he just keeps his tired gaze entertained on an Acacia tree. Bringing the bottle up to his lips, he lets out a low whistle. It’s hot. A cold beer helps. “Right,” you mumble as you flicker your own eyes towards the green tree. You can still spot it - your initials and his engraved. He had done it one evening when he and Scotty had one, too many drinks. He had stumbled all the way to you just to drag you and show you. Because I love you. Even when I’m drunk, I love you like crazy.
“Trees getting old. Might be time to cut it down.”
You flinch at his words. “Can I have a sip?” He raises his brows as he hands you the bottle. You just had one, he tries to joke as he watches the way you chug it down. Drying your lips, you crane your neck to look up at the blue sky. “You never minded sharing before.” He can distinguish the way your voice sounds - as if you’re upset over something he might’ve said - but he knows he hasn’t done anything wrong. Standing up, you hand him back the glass bottle.
“Cut the tree. I don’t care.”
-
“And to my beautiful girlfriend - you’re everything to me and I love you. Without a doubt, the best birthday present I could ever ask for.” Raising his Coca-Cola can, the brown eyed boy sends you a wink with a bright smile plastered across his face. A face you’ve grown to recognize. The one you love.
Making his way over to you, he throws his arms over your shoulders as he rocks you side to side. You smile against his chest. “How does it feel to be 34? Do you have bad knees already?” He lets out a toothy grin as he slaps your ass. “It’s just a question!”
“My knees are fine. As long as I can still kneel down in front of you - that’s all that matters, no?”
You blush at his words as you jokingly push him away. This only makes him cling onto you harder. Squinting your eyes up at him, you trace heart shapes against his biceps. You sincerely feel the happiest you’ve felt in ages. This is the Daniel you knew like the back of your hand. “I was thinking maybe we can take a trip. Anywhere, really. To celebrate-”
“My birthday?” He beams. “This is why you’re the sweetest girlfriend in the entire world!” No problem, you shyly respond as you pinch his t-shirt in between your fingers. Kissing you one last time, he excuses himself to go welcome some late-comers. Chole zig zags her way over to you as she gives you a side hug.
“How’d it go?”
You sigh. “He forgot. He completely forgot. I don’t think I can entirely blame him - I mean it is his birthday.” The fact that you have to defend him makes the blonde furrow her dark brows. Shaking her head, she hands you a slice of chocolate cake.
“Never in a million years did your guys’ anniversary slip his mind. What a dick.”
But you’re not even listening. You’re too flabbergasted that he cut his cake without you being there with him. 
-
Whether it was a trip to Vermont for his birthday or your anniversary, it didn’t really matter because you loved every second. It’s almost like he needed this break. To do something different that didn’t feel like a forced routine. You went hiking, apple picking, to a million bars that only served barbeque ribs - and you never felt more at peace.
Handing you a bouquet of flowers, he kneels down in front of you. You roll your eyes as you take the colorful peonies from him - though inside you were shaking like a 17 year old getting her first glimpse of love. “What’s this for?” He shrugs as he takes a seat next to you.
“Just because.”
Those were your favorite types of flowers. Intertwining his fingers with yours, you both continue chatting about anything and everything that crossed your mind. As you both pass by a peach tree, he lets go of your hand as he brings up his camera with sudden determination. Stand right there, baby.
Trying to express your happiness as best as you can, you hug your gift close to your face as you smile so wide, your eyes nearly shut. 
“You’re mind blowing,” he murmurs as he snaps the picture. He takes a moment to admire you as you jog over to him. Show me! He clicks his tongue. “It’s digital. You’re gonna have to wait.” You pout as you pinch his cheek. Bringing your hand up to his mouth, he presses warm kisses.
“I have something to tell you.” Your heart stops; suddenly filled with nervousness as he smiles with giddiness. What is it? “I’m going to be driving again! I mean it completely sucks for Nyck, but I’m just so happy to get back into an F1 car.”
“Nyck? As in the Alpha Tauri driver?” 
He nods. “I got the call last month - a few days after my birthday. Best present ever.” Once again, his words cut you deep without him even noticing. Nevertheless, you force a tight smile.
“I’m so happy for you, Danny. You’re finally getting what you’ve wanted for so long.”
-
When you both get back to Australia, it surprises you a bit how normal things have stayed. He’s smiling more - if that was even possible - he’s laughing louder, too. Roaming the house, you rub your eyes from sleepiness. Scotty and Chloe share a laugh when they spot you. “And Sleeping Beauty has finally woken. I didn’t think that was possible.” Chloe smacks his chest as she sends you a wink.
“Humor me, why don’t you?” Your gaze flickers across the living room. “Where’s Danny?” 
“Outside.” 
Sliding the door open, you step out as you try your best to adjust your eyesight to the bright sun. As soon as it does, your stomach drops. You run up to the brunette as you pull the ax from him.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
Startled, he jumps up as he takes his earphones out. “Holy shit. You scared me, don’t do that!” Tears fill your eyes as you analyze the chopped tree. You’re no expert, but even you can tell that there’s no going back. The only result that comes out of this would be for the tree to fall down. Rushing over to you, he checks you everywhere to make sure you weren’t hurt. You brush him off.
“Why would you do this?”
He cocks his head to the side, brown eyes filled with confusion. “I’m so lost, what did I do?” Anger bubbles up inside of you as you force yourself to not yell at him. “You’re okay, so why are you crying? Oh no. Did Scotty wake you up again? I told him not to do that anymore!”
“I’m done.” You wipe your tears as you let out a bitter laugh. “I am so done.”
“What do you mean you’re done?”
“I’m saying I give up! Fuck, I give up. That’s it. You win. I just - can’t.”
He tries to take a step closer but you only distance yourself twice as much. “You’re scaring me. What’s wrong?”
“I’ve tried so hard to understand you, I really did, but I’m just as tired as you are. I tried to ease your pain when McLaren let you go, but you kept pushing me away. I tried to be there for you on days you felt like nothing, but to me you were always everything. I tried to not let you see how much it hurt me when you forgot our 5 year anniversary. I tried to not act like it bothered me when you cut the cake I spent hours baking for you, without me. I tried to not act surprised when I found out you kept the news from me about you returning to F1 for one fucking month. But I can’t try and pretend that you cutting down this tree hasn’t broken my heart.”
“It’s just a stupid, old tree-”
“I don’t think you understand! It may be old and it sure as hell could be stupid, but it was ours.” You grab his hand harshly as you drag him to the other side of the tree. His eyes grow wide. I didn’t remember - I swear I forgot that was even there! You let out a wet laugh as you toss your hair over your shoulder. “You’re hurting me, Daniel. Can’t you see?”
“You’re the one who said I should cut it down. You can’t seriously just be blaming me.”
“And who came up with the idea first?” 
He lowers his gaze as he runs his left hand against his clenched jaw. “I’m sorry.” He connects his desperate eyes to your glossy ones. “But don’t say all those things, please. You’re right. I’ve been an awful boyfriend, but no one understands me better than you.” Placing his hands on either side of your face, he lets out soft pants. “You’re everything to me, how could you have possibly felt that way? I love you.”
“Love me like what?” He furrows his brows as he searches for an answer. You scrunch your nose as you push his hands down. “I thought you loved me like crazy.” His stomach churns. “Listen, I love you, Daniel. I love you so fucking much, but even I can see that I’m not you’re happiness anymore. Not the way I used to be, at least. You have other priorities; other plans-”
“No, you’re my priority. You always have been.”
“Except I haven’t. For a moment, you went radio silent. It was a one-sided relationship, but I loved you so much that I stayed. I pushed past it. Then - one random day - your shine came back. You were insanely happy and I thought-” You shut your eyes. You can feel your salty tears trickle down your face. “I thought it was because of me. Now I realize, it hasn’t been about me for a while now. It’s so obvious that the only reason you were cheerful once again was because you got what you wanted. You got a seat.”
“You’re wrong-”
“I’m not.” You let out a shaky breath as you bite down on your lip; a weak attempt to not out loud sobs. “I would have gladly taken part in your pain, but you never let me join you. You never let me get close enough to help you out.” Making your way up to him slowly, you tippy toe as you lean in for a kiss. What hurts the most is that all of a sudden - he’s kissing you the exact same way he did when he first told you that he loved you. He was giving it his all. Pulling away, you let out a low whimper as you feel your chin tremble. Your smile wobbles. “Can’t force something that’s not there anymore, can you?”
Taking him in one last time, you rub his forearm as you gently pat it before you walk away. Daniel feels paralyzed as he watches you go. He’s expecting you to turn around at least one last time and he’s expecting his body to let him run after you, but neither of those things happen.
Hesitantly, Chloe and Scotty make their way to their frozen friend. They had heard the fight, but decided it was best to not intervene. 
“She left.”
The couple share a concerned look as they take in the weak tree that was clearly about to fall at any moment. Chloe sighs as she walks away, making a beeline to find you. Though, she knows you better than anyone. You weren’t going to return. And she completely understood.
Scotty takes a step back as he shakes his head in disbelief. 
“She fucking loved that tree.”
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toffeecoco1 · 28 days
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A concept:
SQH is forced to reveal the system and/or his status as a transmigrator, due to a truth serum or whatever other convenient plot device. I HIGHLY doubt MBJ would just pass this knowledge on to LBH, especially if LBH didn’t ask—and how on earth would he think to ask??
So instead, I think at least part of it happens with LBH around. He watches SQH have a meltdown over being revealed, spewing nonsense about writing a book and then waking up inside it. He doesn’t even need to catch the entire mess, only fragments of it—enough to understand that it’s possible to jump from one world to the next, to end up in a world you already know.
And he starts wondering. Thinking about someone else he knows who has always known too much and brushed it off by claiming he read it in some book or another that Binghe can’t confirm exists. And though SQH appears to have found himself in this world as a child, who’s to say that’s the only possibility? His shizun’s personality changed suddenly and drastically, and he has no memories of his shizun having such startlingly extensive knowledge before that event.
What happens then depends on when this takes place: if it’s post-canon, he probably corners SQH to ask, and is smug about threatening him, then cradles the knowledge he receives close to his chest. Whether he brings this to his shizun is hard to tell, but he’d definitely carry himself with a light, happy air. Knowing that his shizun has always been kind to him and always loved him is simply euphoric. SQQ might notice him acting different and ask him about it, which might lead to a conversation—where SQQ is terrified at first, but relieved and simply relaxed by the end. He truly doesn’t mind being Shen Qingqiu and living what is technically a lie, but it’s… lovely to let his guard down a little around his husband, even if by this point “Shen Qingqiu” is no longer a mask he has to hide behind.
(Being post-canon is also fun because binghe can think back to the mausoleum and go “wow. maybe this should have been obvious.”)
Alternatively, I LOVE the idea that this happens earlier, during the 5 years where SQQ is dead. Rather than excitement and giddiness at solving a puzzle and figuring out more about his beloved, Binghe feels only grief and a slow horror as the pieces fall into place.
Maybe he still doesn’t know why his shizun pushed him into the abyss, but if none of the abuse he suffered was actually at his hands, if shizun truly was only ever kind to him… at the least he can begin to understand why his shizun might have sacrificed himself for him.
When he corners SQH this time, it’s with real anger, laced with fear and regret. SQH’s panicked answers give him enough information to piece together that SQQ likely didn’t have a choice in pushing him into the abyss.
So he wallows. His beloved never once tried to hurt him, was always kind to him and protected him. Likely knew he would escape the abyss alive. And he repaid that with threats and coercion, and drove his shizun to his death.
Years later, when he is in a dream and suddenly realises that his shizun is real, he doesn’t slowly smirk and begin to plot. He instead falls to his knees, gripping tightly to his shizun’s clothing and sobbing—much to SQQ’s confusion. But, still slightly numb with the whiplash of being kissed clumsily without warning and then suddenly cried on by a man he’s convinced is going to kill him, all SQQ can do is gently pat his disciple’s head.
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displ3azant · 25 days
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(Before cut is In-Character.)
Hiii! Helloooo!
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Hello!!!!!! Hehe, thiz iz actually super weird trying to write an intro-- give me a minute.
So, HIII!!!!!!! I'm Unpleasant! That'z not a joke, that iz literally my name. There'z no "deep reason" behind it, it iz literally just what people refer to me az. But, if that'z too weird, I do also go by Unplez or Plez for short.
Uh, pronounz? I don't really care, actually. I don't have a set gender, I've never really met a gradient who doez. That being said, since I started hanging with Infected I have been called he and she specifically a lot... so if it'z easiest for you, just roll with the crowd.
Right, so... the blog. Thatz thiz blog, haha! Well, the easy answer iz I waz super bored, Infected can suck a huge ####, and I like talking about myself! But... I kind of suck at talking in general, so I guess I'll type and answer questionz about myself.
BUT KNOW MY BOUNDARIEZ BEFORE YOU ASK QUESTIONZ! 👇👇👇
(Below cut is Out-Of-Character.)
To those who know me: Good to see you're still stickin' with me! I promise I will make an effort to make this blog much less of a dumpster fire like the last one.
And to those who are only now coming across this blog: Hello! My name is Hex. You don't have to call me "Mod Hex", or anything, just "Hex" will do. I'm the only guy running this thing here. I'll talk more about myself soon, because oversharing is what I do best.
Blog-Context
So, if it wasn't obvious enough from the intro, this is an ask/rp blog for the Unpleasant Gradient from Regretevator, but specifically in the context of the plez-centric au I have created for him. Or, well, the "AU" in question is actually just some freaky amalgamation of all my fucked up headcanons, which means...
I AM NO LONGER DOING DIRECT BLOG ASSOCIATIONS! Really sorry about that, I love my friends with all my heart but if I wanna keep consistency, I'm gonna have to "write the story" on my own. However, I do want to give full credit to my friends @sk8tr1101 and @party-noob for some major concepts involving Unpleasant, especially Audrey who already has some awesome ideas herself. Go check them both out!
MAIN TAGS:
#unpl3zansw3rz - Asks
#unpl3zrambl3z - Non-ask related posts/reblogs
#unpl3zlor3 - Plot points and similar
#ooc - Out-of-character post
OTHER TAGS (to be updated):
(nothing yet, hehe)
Blog-Owner
So hiiii, I'm Hex. If I can be bothered, out-of-character posts will either have the #ooc tag, be in purple text, or be signed off with my name. I'd prefer if you refer to me using he/it pronouns, thnx!
I'd also like you all to keep in mind I am 17 years old, therefore a minor, and even if I wasn't 17 I do not appreciate NSFW/Explicit jokes towards me, ESPECIALLY if you don't know me. It's one thing when you're my very close friends or my partner, it's another thing when you are a stranger on the internet asking me things I should not have to answer.
My other accounts are: @hexexists - my main blog, if you receive notifications from this account, please know it is just me! @hexational - my regretevator blog @geometricgiovanni - a Jeremy ask/rp blog set in the same universe as this one! Please note, however, that in the context of this blog, Unpleasant is not aware of the blog nor would he like to be.
Ask/RP-Boundaries
Let's start off by reiterating that I AM NOT OKAY WITH NSFW/EXPLICIT ASKS IN ANY CAPACITY! Sick of getting them, they're repetitive and annoying. Asking safe-for-work questions involving Unpleasant's anatomy is one thing, but I am not responding to ANYTHING involving genetalia.
ALSO! I am very unlikely to respond to things that is either hard to make a unique drawing for or don't progress the story (unlocking "lore" and such). I'm watching your ass, Mango, I know what you like to do (/lh). Joke asks are still okay, you don't *have* to progress story, but please keep in mind my "criteria" for answering asks when sending them. A clean inbox gives me a clear mind. I do not like notifications.
Shipping content: Shipping content is okay, but I don't care much for romance personally and so will likely not play much into it. Please don't push anything, I guess, and nothing that promotes proshipping or any kind of literally illegal pairing. If you dislike any direction taken ship-wise for this blog, then block me and move on with your day.
Roleplaying: While I'd prefer to not be in direct contact with other rp blogs, I am totally cool with roleplaying side stories and stuff, interactions and such! Please keep in mind though, Unpleasant in this is not a very social person, so you're probably not going to get the reaction you want.
Also! I think OCs are super cool and am happy to respond/interact with them as well! However,
PLEASE DON'T SEND YOUR GRADIENT OCS TO THIS ACCOUNT IF YOU WANT ME TO DRAW THEM! Please instead send them to @hexational! A lot of people were sending me their Gradient ocs to the previous Unpleasant account, and as much as I love seeing Gradient ocs and Gradient sonas, I'd love to be able to draw them, and if you are just asking an opinion on them and not an in-character ask or a genuine question involving other gradients I'd much prefer you send them to the account previously tagged!
That's pretty much all I can think of! Sorry for the long post, I just have a lot to say hehe
Lots of love, - Hex
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tenpintsof-sundrop · 5 months
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My Top 10 Fics Of 2023
So, because it is the 'wrapped' time of year where everyone looks back on their year through playlists and other types of stats - I thought that I would look back on my year through something completely nonobjective and based on exactly 0 data - my favourite fics I have written this year that are based completely on my personal enjoyment of them.
Last year, I did something similar to this where I counted down the top ten fics based completely on data - how many notes each fic had gotten on tumblr. But most of the posts were shorter fics that I hadn't spent a lot of time working on that I wasn't very proud of. (Like the fact that my current most popular fanfic on my sideblog for fanfiction is the shortest in word count.) So I have decided to go over the fics that are the most popular in my heart - countdown style.
This year I have written 39 different fics and I have written over 395,000 words, and these are my favourite fics that I have written.
Honorable Mentions:
Black Suit - Emily Prentiss x Fem!Reader (2,900 words). One of the most well-rounded fics I have written in such a short word count. And just - look at her.
My Bleeding Heart - Draco Malfoy x Fem!Reader (3,400 words). I have never used Death Eaters as the basis for angst in a fic and I had so much fun with it. Plus the kidfic fluff at the end was really fun too.
IFHY (I Fucking Hate You) - Abby Anderson x Fem!Reader (8,100 words). So @holy-minseok made a post about how there isn't enough fics with reader characters that aren't nice and sweet and I haven't stopped thinking about it since. Because I have so many fics with rude, toxic readers and this is absolutely one of them. This reader is a Grade A Bitch and that's a huge reason why I had so much fun writing it.
Better Than Sleeping - Jason Todd x Fem!Reader (5,300 words). This is some of the best quality smut I have written this year, hands down.
The Patron Saint of Liars and Fakes - Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader (8,200 words). I love writing fics based on specific episodes of a show, and this definitely helped to fulfil my whump quota for the year.
Sweet Revenge - Ellie Williams x Fem!Reader (16,200 words). This is a fic that definitely converted me from a hardcore Abby girl into an Ellie girl. I am very proud of it. (And eventually I became an EllAbs girl, as god intended.)
Free Use Day - Poly!OG!Titans x Fem!Reader (14,300 words). This is probably my most epic and honorable of the honorable mentions. This is the first time in years that I have written such a long pwp, and it's written about some of my ult favs. So I fucking love it. (It came so, so close to making the top ten.)
(Now, onto the top ten.)
The Top Ten:
10. Dreaming Of You - Gar Logan x Fem!Mute!Reader (31,300 words)
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You and Gar have been best friends for a long time. Nothing could disrupt the harmony of such a perfect friendship. Nothing except maybe… your usually predictable powers going haywire and somehow showing you all of his heated daydreams about you. But he couldn’t possibly have romantic feelings for you. He couldn’t possibly want anything more than your close platonic friendship and the occasional steamy fantasy. Right? Gar Logan x Fem!Mute!Powered!Reader. Best Friends to Lovers. Smut and (Slight) Angst. Set during Season 2.
At first I wasn't even sure if I should put this one on the list, because it's technically a re-post, but I was like fuck it, I make the rules here. And the reason it's at 10 is because technically I wrote most of this in 2021 originally (though it feels like longer ago than that omg), but this year I heavily updated the fic, including writing some new scenes for it that flesh it out very nicely. To me, this is everything a good re-post should be. It cleans up what was already there and amazing about the fic and it enhances it so much.
I loved the concept of this fic from its core, and now I get to be so, so proud of the way I have enhanced it years later. To me, this will always be my core Gar fic (as much as I will always write more for him) - and it is something I am truly, genuinely proud of. If you love Gar and you love smutty fantasies involving him, I highly recommend checking this fic out.
9. No Brainer - Derek Cho x Fem!Reader x Melanie Cross (Mayhem (2017)) (7,100 words)
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When the ID-7 Virus, aka the Red Eye Virus hits Towers and Smythe Consulting, it throws the entire office building into chaos. With a mandatory quarantine from the CDC in action, that chaos builds in on itself, and somehow, you, Derek, and Melanie get everything that you want. aka You have something Derek and Melanie need. Derek and Melanie have something you want. You all agree to make an exchange, and everyone ends up more than happy. Derek Cho (Steven Yeun) x Fem!Reader x Melanie Cross (Samara Weaving). Co-Works to Lovers. Smut. Based on the film Mayhem from 2017.
This is one of my personal favourite fics of mine that I believe very few people following me have ever read. I absolutely love writing fics based on random one-off horror movies - I have way more in my drafts, and one of my goals for 2024 is to complete and post more of them. But one night I was laying in bed and I randomly watched this film because I knew Steven Yeun was in it. I had seen a lot of clips of him covered in blood and yelling, and I found him really hot in those clips, so I knew that I would enjoy the film. And I absolutely fucking did. Not just based on his hotness, but just - the entire film was so, so enjoyable.
Also, the ID-7 Virus, a fictional sickness that lowers your inhibitions (something that is shown in the film to work like sex pollen) is the perfect basis for a fic. So I literally started writing this on my phone before I had even finished watching the film. And I posted it a few days later. I think it's just pure fun. One of my favourite things to write about is a healthy combination of horror and sex, and this is definitely toeing the line perfectly in my opinion. If you haven't seen the film, I highly recommend it - watch it, and then come back and read this fic.
8. My Heart Is The Worst Kind Of Weapon - Ellie Williams x Fem!Reader (9,600 words)
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Ellie confronts your abuser, and after years of torment, you finally feel free. Ellie Williams x Fem!Reader. Strangers to Lovers. Hurt and Comfort.
This is a fic that is very close to my heart. Not only is named after a tragically underrated Fall Out Boy B-Side, one of my favourite songs ever, but it is a fic about conquering the abuse of a family member - and when I wrote this, it was coming from a place of the utmost sincerity.
I am someone who has experienced abuse from a family member, and it felt so entirely empowering to write this - to write about someone coming to your rescue so honestly. Someone rescuing you out of pure want, not because it's an obligation or a burden. But because they are compelled by their own morals and they feel that your abuse is a cruel injustice against the world. This and the companion fic I wrote for Abby with a similar storyline are two of the most important fics that I have written this year.
7. Ghosting - Mike Schmidt x Fem!Reader (3,700 words)
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Mike has been in love with you for as long as he can remember. For about as long as the two of you have been best friends. He always thought he would have more time to work up to confessing those big, dangerous feelings for you - until something more dangerous swooped in and stole any time he had left with you. Mike Schmidt x Fem!Reader. Star-Crossed Lovers. Pure Angst. Set during the events of the movie (and features spoilers for the plot).
I feel like this list would be incomplete if I didn't pick at least one of the FNAF fics that I wrote (and two of them ended up on here). With how much it was delayed, it was actually wild to see the FNAF Movie actually come to life before our very eyes, and it was amazing to actually write some fics about it. This is the first time (in a very long time) that I have written pure angst with no sense of fluff at the ending, and it was actually so much fun - it's fun to give into the darker side of a fic, and to write about the most torturous human emotions with absolutely no relief.
Also, I think dying in someone's arms (especially holding your lover or your would-be lover) is such a compelling trope and I loved writing about it. This was so much fun for me to write, and it was something so interesting to explore aside from the usual smut that I write.
6. From Your Lips - Jennifer Jareau x GN!Reader (3,000 words)
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After JJ is attacked by dogs on the Hankle farm, everyone is busy worrying about Reid’s missing status, but you take the time to check on JJ and try your best to calm her flustered mind. Jennifer Jareau x Gender Neutral Reader. Friends with Benefits. Smut and Angst. Set during Season 2, Episode 15.
This year, I had another large foray into the Criminal Minds fandom, and I wrote a JJ fic for the first time. And just in general, I am so proud of this fic. I think even for a short fic, it has such a great essence - again, I love setting fics during specific episodes, and I found it so fun to play around with the religious imagery and the religious themes already in this episode, as well as the imagery of rabid dogs.
To me, this is what truly makes fanfiction great - taking details of the canon, chewing them up like bubblegum and then adding something else in to make them your own. I had so much fun writing this fic, 10/10.
5. Love From The Other Side (aka The Golf Club Fic) - Abby Anderson x Fem!Reader (5,600 words)
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Abby kills the man that has been haunting your nightmares for years. You find it only fitting to give her a proper reward. Abby Anderson x Fem!Reader. Established Relationship. Smut. Set during The Last of Us Part II. (aka - the fic where Abby fucks the reader's pussy with the golf club that she used to kill Joel.)
So, as you will notice with this fic and the next one, 2023 was the year I truly said fuck it. There used to be a time when I was afraid to admit my weirder kinks and fantasies (like, I used to be afraid to even say that I read A/B/O), but then I realized that this is the freak-nasty website. And way too many people are shy. So I must be the one to provide the freak-nasty fics.
This is a fic I had in mind since the very first time I watched TLOU2 gameplay. And originally, it was going to be a simple, purely pornopraphic fic about Abby fucking the reader with the golf club - but as I was writing it, it turned into something that I find oddly beautiful. And (again, just like with the next fic) I find that writing about kinks in long-term relationships, especially the kind of relationships that have come to be co-dependent - it's like writing this toxic, cathartic poetry.
It's writing about two people who need each other but can be so horrible for each other - and it is one of my favourite things to write about because it's so damn interesting. This was a slay, and generally awesome because it was getting out an idea that's been in my head for years.
4. Damn The Man, Save The Empire - Vanessa Shelly x GN!Reader (6,100 words)
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Vanessa has always taken care of you. Since the two of you were kids, she has put her neck on the line for you, and you rarely knew how to return that epic kindness. One night, while both of you are raw and on-edge, the dark cloud of your strange past looming over both of you nearly swallows both of you whole - and once again, Vanessa is right there, taking care of you. (Dark)Dom!Vanessa Shelly x Sub!Gender Neutral Reader. Toxic Co-Dependent Relationship. Smut and Angst. Takes place before the main timeline of the film (features spoilers for the movie).
Again, like I said with the previous fic - this was one of my favourite fics to write because it is so delightfully unhinged. I really enjoy exploring toxic relationships through fiction because - for one, writing healthy, functioning relationships is not always interesting. And there is something so beautifully dark and poetic about writing two people who have grown into each other like twisted tree branches and need each other, but are so bad for each other.
And this year I have been exploring gender neutral smut a lot more. I used to always write fem reader smut as my default, but I have been having a lot of fun with the creativity of writing smut without describing the reader's body in detail. I love coming up with metaphors and describing around the body parts. I find it to be a fun creative challenge. Anyway - this was a lot of fun to write, and I highly recommend it if you enjoy reading darker fics.
3. Lessons For A Genius (Lesson One) - Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader (17,200 words)
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What could a certified genius possibly have to learn from someone like you? Turns out - a hell of a lot.  And the real ‘teaching’ started when your graphic explanations of slang toward Spencer for the sheer shock value of it turned into something a lot more… hands on.  Sub!Spencer Reid x (BAU)Dom!Fem!Reader. Co-Workers to Friends with Benefits. Smut. Set during early Season 2.
I feel like it would be a miss to make this list without mentioning a fic that I obsessed over for two weeks straight - a fic that drove me insane in the best way. Of course, there is also the sequel, but I personally prefer the first lesson. This fic has been brewing in my mind for a very long time, because it is painfully obvious to me that Spencer (in the early seasons) is an awkward virgin, and I have always wanted to ruin him.
This fic is a lot of my fantasies brought to life, and I feel like it's a really masterful painting of those fantasies - for once, without overly focusing on the murder mystery aspect of Criminal Minds fanfiction (which I have a tendency to get distracted by). I am really, really proud of this fic, and I know you guys enjoyed it. It is definitely a highlight of my writing this year.
2. Emergency Contact - Jason Todd x GN!Reader (10,500 words)
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After Jason miraculously comes home from his brush with Deathstroke, you’re both feeling it in very different ways. You have an unexpected physical wound from the battle, and he has many (very expected) emotional wounds. You help each other heal. Even if it’s very stubborn on both your parts. Jason Todd x GN!Powered!Reader. Enemies/FWB to Lovers. Angst and Hurt/Comfort. (Slight Smut). Set during Season 2, Episode 5.
This is a fic I have talked about a lot recently, because I have been working on the sequel. (I was hoping to get the sequel finished and posted before the end of December, but it's gonna be a longer fic, so it's looking like it's gonna be one of the first fics of January instead.) Anyway - to me, this is by far one of my best fics and one of my most important fics of 2023. This was battling for the top spot.
But even if it's second place, I am so incredibly proud of this fic. I think it's beautifully written, I am incredibly proud of the literary references I worked in with The Great Gatsby - especially because I feel like Jason would be the type to read Gatsby and compare himself to someone tragic and doomed like Gatsby (he would soo compare himself to Gatsby, especially because he was also a poor kid who was randomly sponsored by a rich man who saw potential in him). Overall, I just had a very distinct vision when writing the fic, and that vision came to life. And I really, really hope that my vision comes to life in the sequel too.
1. King For A Day - Poly!Golden Trio x Fem!Reader (22,400 words) 
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You have always had a special relationship with Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, and the one and only Harry Potter. When you set out to help them find and destroy Lord Voldemort’s Horcruxes, it seems that your intimate knowledge of them is the one thing keeping them together - until the unique dynamic shifts, thanks to one of those pesky pieces of dark magic. Angry voices carry, and it turns out - moans of pleasure do too. Poly!Golden Trio x Fem!Reader (Fem!Reader x Harry Potter x Ron Weasley x Hermione Granger). FWB to Poly Lovers. Smut (with a slight bit of Angst). Set during Deathly Hallows.
And finally, we get to my favourite fic of the year!!
So, I'm gonna be honest, a huge reason that this fic gets the top slot is because of my nostalgia for Harry Potter. This year was the first time in a long time that I have written Harry Potter fanfiction, and it felt like a reawakening of my soul. I was genuinely happy, and I was spending time enjoying concepts and characters that I have not thought about for a long time.
This fic in particular, I feel like I have been working on it for years in my mind. This fic is a culmination of all my thoughts about these characters, all my time in the Harry Potter fandom, and generally, I am so, so proud of it. I am proud that my love for Harry Potter has come to fruition in this form - a poly smut fic, something that is just so me.
Overall - I had such a great year chasing fic ideas that make me happy, despite the popularity of the characters or the fandoms, and I encourage you guys to spend 2024 doing the same. Cheers!
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gothhabiba · 9 months
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[ID: a tumblr post containing a screenshot. Text in the screenshot reads “lol @ academics on twitter dotcom once again handwringing over students using chatgpt to write essays. don’t work for the enforcement of access barriers institution and then get mad when people try to elide or mitigate the access barriers, hope this helps.” The OP of the post adds this commentary to their screenshot: “I think the access barrier is the borderline incomprehensible amount of money you need to pay them to let you matriculate (this was about america). not the fact that you’re expected to be interested in the course once there.” end ID]
some people are so allergic to questioning anything they consider to be “common sense” it’s pathetic. worshipping meritocracy and the supposedly automatically edifying qualities of “effort” and suffering while also proclaiming oneself to be some flavour of progressive. sheesh
also I know this isn’t the point but it never stops being fascinating to me that so many people with this “you need to learn to Be Literate In The Correct Ways, Which Is An Easy Thing That Anyone Can Easily Do” sort of attitude (the elision between “think in the incredibly specific way and write in the highly specific way required to complete an essay that adheres to this particular school of thought about what essays should be like” and “be interested in the course” is telling here) are also, like... not great at reading comprehension imo.
it was super clear, even just in this ungenerous cropping of a longer point, that the original post was (among other things) criticising academia as a whole for being intended to institute access barriers to accumulating wealth, prestige &c. such that skills the university considers necessary (& performance within the limits afforded by university disability ‘accommodations,’ which are a joke) are considered automatically necessary, unquestionable, unimpeachable &c. as though the academy and its conception of “literary” are natural and inherent facts of life, rather than representing a particular interpretation of which “skills” are needed and how those skills are evaluated based on what the institution of academia is intended to do, economically / politically / socially, within a given society (cf earlier discussions on my blog about the material circumstances under which the field of literary studies arises)
which is simply basic materialist analysis. but most people in the notes were again too busy being outraged at the people trying to “game” this already highly rigged system to be able to comprehend a criticism of the highly rigged nature of said system
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Your Mihawk has me weak on my knees so I wanted to request something for him.
S/O has scars on her body, mainly on arms. She does fight but some of them look… too precise. One time after she loses a fight she is really pissed and nervous, she goes to a place alone. There he sees her just giving herself a scar with a knife on her arm. Turns out she was taught scars are signs of losses and if she doesn't get one in battle then afterwards she needs to do it herself. That's why she's so determined to always win. She hates scars.
@patisilence tagging since I'm not sure if you'll get this since I had to save it as a draft to format everything right.
Anyway.
I DID IT I ACTUALLY FINISHED IT
I'M SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG 😭😭
And I honestly really really want to thank you. This is my first ever fic-request, for one.
And also, writing this has been an absolute emotional rollercoaster. I have kind of a personal history with self-harm and I wanted to depict it as realistically as possible. Which resulted in heavy focus on character development, which resulted in this practically turning into a novella. I'm going to split it up into a few chapters to streamline things and link them all in this post.
If I do it right, then the entire thing should already be posted when I post this, but I'm still pretty new to Tumblr so bear with me. Each chapter should be between 3k-4k words.
And ALSO ALSO I've been planning a longer Mihawk X OC fic, and I really hope you don't mind me using this concept for it? Because it honestly ties a lot of things together for me
Soooooo without further ado, here's the whole author note thing.
Your Scars Are Mine
Ch. 1
LA! Mihawk X AFAB!Reader
Tags: Fluff, Smut, Hurt/Comfort, Graphic Mentions of Violence, I guess that's it, I'm bad at this
⚠️ MASSIVE ASS TRIGGER WARNINGS⚠️ : Self-harm, Blood, Implied PTSD
Summary: In the few months that he has known you, Mihawk has noticed the scars on your arm. You've refused to talk about them and skirted around the subject successfully, but a trip to Shells Town throws everything out into the open in a way that neither of you were prepared for.
Ch. 2
Ch.3
You were hiding something.
In the few months that Mihawk had known you, he had come to learn a fair bit about you. He knew, for instance, that you had over the past few years made something of a name for yourself as a sword for hire, typically among pirate crews who required a more discreet touch.
That this reputation of yours had led the Buggy Pirates to hire you to assist in stealing a map of the Grand Line from a Marine base in Shells Town. You had failed to procure the map before it was stolen by other hands, leaving you in their debt. Buggy had sunk your sloop to prevent your escape, and you had gotten stuck working for the ridiculous crew for a brief time, remained stuck with them until the Strawhat upstarts offered you passage with them.
Mihawk knew you had traveled with them as far as Baratie, where you had crossed his own path for the first time at the bar on the ship's deck. Where you had approached him with a bargain—if he left Roronoa Zoro alive after their duel the following morning, you would serve him for a year, an errand girl to send off on whatever menial tasks the World Government assigned him.
"And why would I want a little bird flitting around after me around for an entire year?" Mihawk had asked coolly.
And yet you had made a fair point—acting as a government lapdog was growing old. He had been sent after the vice admiral's grandson, for heavens' sake, as if he had nothing better to do with his time than to handle the old fool's family disputes.
Though the surly pirate warlord wouldn't have dared to dream of admitting it at the time, you had his attention. Your offer of unquestioned devotion, your confident demeanor as you sipped a glass of whiskey and kept your eyes on his without showing an ounce of fear or intimidation. You were certainly an interesting diversion from the otherwise dull task that had been laid before him, and your certainty that he would accept your offer had irritated and intrigued him in near equal measure.
It was intrigue that won out in the end. He had left his challenger clinging to the edge of life and taken you with him on his departure. You stayed toe to toe with him in wit and banter, and that alone would have been more than enough to draw him closer to your charm. He had wanted you before two weeks were out, wanted to claim you as far more than his "errand girl," and it was easy to see from the way you effortlessly returned his subtle flirtations that you wanted the same.
And now you were lying back across his broad chest in the hammock aboard your new sloop, a book open over your chest and his hand resting over your stomach, his other tucked under his neck as he frowned thoughtfully up at the roof of the small ship's cabin, pondering over the whirlwind of events that had led up to this moment.
It had been just over two months since the pirate lord had taken you as his lover, and you had been an open book about most things. Your training under your grandmother. Your setting out on your own from a small island village to find your parents, or some clue of their disappearance. The many and varied pirate crews you had served as a hired hand.
Yet you refused to discuss your scars.
Any seafarer with a history as sordid as your own had their share of battle scars. Mihawk had a fair few of his own; one didn't become the most renowned swordsman in the world without a few losses, after all. Yet your voice turned to clear contempt when yours were mentioned, even in passing, and you tensed like a statue when his hands brushed over them. You were confident to the point of near arrogance, yet you clearly held nothing but shame and contempt for the many marks that marred your delicate skin.
Some of which appeared oddly...uniform, for having been gained in battle.
It was in part—in great measure, honestly—the mystery of you that had drawn him in to begin with, and this was just another mystery that Mihawk intended to unravel.
You closed your book abruptly, stirring him from his thoughts as he glanced down at you. He watched you gaze thoughtfully toward the ceiling for a long moment, your hand resting over his at your stomach, before you finally spoke up.
"Reading a book is just staring at a dead tree and vividly hallucinating."
You tilted your head back, grinning as his mouth turned down in a frown and his brow furrowed at your ridiculous statement. Mihawk sighed wearily, plucking the book from your hands and lightly rapping you over the forehead with it.
"No," he scolded, as you giggled softly. He sighed heavily again, dropping the book over the back of the hammock before pinching at the bridge of his nose. "Are you trying to give me a stroke?"
"No," you said, imitating his scolding tone. You stretched your arms out over your head, arching your back for a moment, before rolling over to lay across his chest and brush your lips to his. "But it's fun seeing the look on your face."
"You irritate my very soul, little one," he said, shaking his head as he wrapped his arms around your waist.
"And I enjoy every second of it," you countered, grinning as you laid your forehead against his.
"I can tell."
Your grin managed to draw a small smile from him, before he lifted a hand into your hair and pulled you down into a slow, deep kiss. Your fingertips came to rest at his broad shoulders, the hammock swaying slowly in the steady ocean waves carrying the ship along. He knew as well as you did that he wasn't honestly irritated—your strange sense of humor had grown on him, as starkly as it contrasted to his dry sarcasm, and he rarely had the pleasure of meeting anyone as adept at keeping up with his own banter.
You lay your cheek at his shoulder when your lips parted, your eyes slipping shut and your contented sigh tickling against his neck.
"If the wind holds steady it will be a few hours before we make port," you said, your voice low and soft. "I suggest we don't move from here in the meantime."
"I'm not sure I've ever heard a finer suggestion."
Mihawk pulled one of your hands to his lips, brushing a kiss across your knuckles. He pulled his hat down over his eyes to block out the sun pouring through the windows of the small cabin, tucked his hand back behind his neck again, and shifted beneath you to get comfortable as he closed his eyes. His arm remained curled around your waist, his hand slipping just beneath the hem of your shirt so his thumb could rub slow circles over your soft skin as you both drifted off toward the peaceful recess of sleep.
The first thing that struck Mihawk when he woke was that you weren't in his arms.
Every day and night for nearly two months, he had fallen asleep and woken with you against him, and the absence of your warmth jarred him instantly awake and aware. His eyes scanned around his surroundings as he sat up, taking in where he was—the small cabin of the sloop he had recently bought you as a replacement for the one Buggy's crew had sunk.
His sharp yellow eyes darted toward the door, taking in the sound of unfamiliar, muffled voices outside the cabin.
He was standing in an instant, straightening his hat and pulling Yoru onto his back as he slipped silently through the door and onto the small deck of the sloop.
There was another sloop tethered to yours.
A pair of no-name pirates holding you against the bow ny your arms, their captain pressing the barrel of his pistol to your forehead as they bickered.
"There has to be something on board."
"We could just take her. Looks like she's probably a feisty little thing."
"Still have to check the cabins. Could be—"
Mihawk cleared his throat.
The trio turned their heads in almost comedic synchrony, their jaws dropping at the mere sight of him leaning against the door of the cabin. Mihawk's eyes flickered from them to you, and you averted your eyes, clearly ashamed to be seen in such a compromising situation.
So he shifted his gaze back to the opposing pirates, his eyes flickering between each of them.
"You will remove your hands from the girl or I will gladly remove them for you," he said levelly, lifting his eyebrows.
They quickly let go of your arms, and stepped away when he moved forward to wrap a hand around your wrist and pull you to him. He curled his arm around your waist, lowering his head over yours for a moment and murmuring quietly, "Are you hurt?"
You shook your head no quickly, your jaw set at a rigid angle as you turned your gaze down to your feet, your shoulders tense. He pressed a light kiss to your temple for a long moment before lifting his gaze back to the trio that had dared board your ship, his eyes narrowing in an unspoken threat.
"Go." They remained frozen, glancing between each other. "Now."
They scrambled back over to their ship immediately, severing the ropes that were tethering it to yours. Mihawk kept his arm around you, but his eyes remained trained onto the opposing sloop as it drifted away on the wind, debating on just drawing his sword and splitting it in half on the spot.
He turned his attention back down to you when you began to pull away from him. He pulled you in close again, frowning. It wasn't at all like you to be bested by a few no-names, and it was clear that you weren't taking it very well.
"Tell me what happened," he said finally.
"I woke up," you said curtly. "Thought I'd check the charts and see how far we were from Shells Town. They were already on the deck. Seemed to think this was a small merchant vessel since there's no flag. I'd left my knives in the cabin and I was still half asleep when I came out here. By the time I registered what was going on, one of them had a pistol to my head."
You really weren't making a very good case for him to not sink their boat. He cut his eyes briefly toward the sloop before looking back down at you, your face shadowed by your hair as you stared down at the deck floor.
"Their captain started questioning me about cargo," you continued. "Told them there wasn't anything valuable on board. They were discussing taking me as compensation." You sighed heavily. "And that's when you chose to enter stage left and take approximately twenty years off the end of their lives."
He rolled his eyes the slightest bit at your quip. "I would have taken a great deal more than that had they hurt you."
"Well, they didn't," you replied, your voice still curt. Mihawk lifted an eyebrow. "And it's perhaps best not to go splitting any boats in half a stone's throw away from a naval base," you added, nodding back toward the bow of the vessel.
Mihawk gave a quick glance as well. He had been too focused on the fiasco he had just awoken to to notice that Shells Town was visible on the horizon now. It wasn't as if the Marines could do much about it if he did sink the sloop, but you were right—it would still be more of a hassle than it was worth. He sighed, shaking his head a little, and curled a hand under your chin to lift your gaze to his. You still kept your eyes averted, your jaw set. He hadn't seen you lose a fight before—apart from sparring with him while training, but that hardly counted.
You had proven to be quite the fighter when he had decided to test you. You were nowhere near his equal, but you knew precisely how to play to your strengths with your pair of daggers and your throwing knives. Your stature made you difficult to target even in single combat, your movements a graceful dance that toed the line between evasion and power.
Yet one loss—and a rather inconsequential loss, at that—and you were beating yourself up over it quite a great deal more than what constituted normalcy. Mihawk wasn't sure whether to scold you for being dramatic or attempt to comfort you.
"You were caught off guard, little one," he said after a long moment, brushing a thumb across your cheek. "There's no need to be so upset over that."
"I'm not upset, I'm annoyed," you retorted, pursing your lips a little. "Blades or no, I should have been able to take care of those idiots."
"Annoyed, then," he allowed with a small sigh. "And I've no doubt you would have had I not woke. I was simply able to handle it a bit more...subtly."
"Oh, yes, because sauntering out onto the deck with a giant sword and threatening to cut off their hands was so subtle," you said, your voice dripping with sarcasm as you finally rolled your eyes over to his, lifting your eyebrows.
"Don't be a brat," he chided lightly. "We still have at least half an hour before we make port." Mihawk abruptly wrapped his hand around your chin and pressed his lips to yours in a brief, deep kiss that made you draw in a sharp breath. He parted just as you started to lean into it, resting his forehead against yours. He lowered his voice to an intimate murmur. "I would truly hate to have to spend it punishing you, my little bird."
You quirked an eyebrow, your lips curving in a small, coy smirk. "No you wouldn't."
He gave you a thoughtful frown and a small shrug of his shoulder. "Perhaps not." You let out a small cry of alarm when he stooped down and quickly scooped you up from the deck floor, one arm beneath your knees and his other curled around your back. "I suppose we'll just have to find out."
You chuckled lightly as he carried you to the door of the main cabin, plucking his hat off of his head and placing it on your own as you brushed your lips to his in a soft, teasing manner. Mihawk lifted his eyebrows when you nipped lightly at his bottom lip.
"You're really pushing your luck, my dear," he cautioned.
He lowered you down to the double bed in the cabin, his thumb rubbing small circles at the back of your neck. You lifted yourself onto your elbows, your lips nearly brushing his before he pulled back just far enough to stop you, lightly gripping your hair at the nape of your neck to keep you from sitting up any higher. You gave a small whine of protest, but didn't try to struggle against his grip—you and he both knew there was no point.
"Lie down." His voice remained low and intimate, but there was a subtle command in his tone, in the way his gaze burned into your own. You bit your bottom lip lightly, lowering yourself back down onto the bed fully. A soft, quivering sigh left your lips as he slowly began slipping the buttons down the front of your shirt loose. "Hands over your head. And you don't move them an inch until I tell you you can."
"Mmm..." You hummed thoughtfully, and Mihawk paused in unbuttoning your shirt as you lifted your arms from the bed, holding your hands high above you, straight up in the air. "I think my arms might end up getting tired."
Your lips pursed a little, clearly struggling to keep a straight face, and he lifted an eyebrow at you. "You're certainly in rare form today."
Mihawk wrapped his hand around both of your wrists, shoving your hands down into the plush white comforter over your head, and a couple giggles escaped you before you bit your lip again. It was honestly a bit endearing, how cheeky you were being—and all the moreso, as it appeared you were being so brazen just so he could have his fun with your punishment.
You were enticing him more and more every passing day, beyond the physical desire that had led him to claim you as his a couple months ago. It wasn't a feeling he was particularly accustomed to, nor was he quite sure what to make of it yet. He knew only that when he had seen you held captive against the bow of the boat, an emotion had flashed through him for a moment that he hadn't experienced in years.
For the briefest moment, Dracule Mihawk had felt fear.
He was not ready to contend with the connotations of that.
And he was a bit too busy at the moment, anyway. He let his forehead touch yours, his lips hovering a breath away from your own.
"You don't move your hands," he repeated, tilting his head to just barely graze his lips against your neck, drawing a small moan from your lips, "until I give you permission. Understood?"
"Yes, sir..." you sighed softly, your eyes slipping shut as he kissed down your collarbone, pushing your shirt open. His hand released your wrists and trailed down your arms, down to knead at the soft tissue of your breast through the sheer lace of your bra, feeling your nipple harden against his palm. He tugged the cups down, just a bit too hard given he felt one of them tear in his grasp, but that was a problem for later, not now.
You gasped out when he briefly pulled one of your stiff nipples into his mouth, his grip tightening slightly around your ribcage as you arched your chest toward his swirling tongue. His gaze flicked up to watch you writhe and shudder under his touch, your fingers digging into the bedsheets behind you, your hands searching for anything to keep occupied with.
"Very good," he praised, lifting a hand to brush a few strands of hair out of your eyes and brushing his lips to your jaw. "You see?" He wrapped his hand around your jaw and lightly pressed his lips to yours. "It's much better when you're a good little bird, isn't it?"
"This—doesn't feel much like a punishment," you commented, gasping softly as he circled the pad of his thumb around your nipple, lightly skimming across it once or twice.
"Yet," he corrected.
And gave you a small, devilish smirk, before lowering his head and biting down on the tender skin at the crook of your neck. Just hard enough to leave behind a small bruise, to draw a sharp cry from your lips and send a shiver through your body.
He straightened out as you heaved a sigh, standing over you. Your eyes remained glued to him while he shrugged away his long coat and tossed it back into a chair behind him, noting how your hands tightened down on the bedsheets again.
"Remember we still have a half an hour before we reach Shells Town." His fingertips curled around the waist of your shorts, the lace of your panties beneath them, and slowly inched them down your hips. "I could spend the entirety of it teasing you." Mihawk noted the movement in your throat as you swallowed in nervous anticipation, your eyes glued to his as he pulled them up the length of your legs and off, flinging them aside. "Making you beg for release but never allowing you the satisfaction."
How beautiful it was that it only took a few words to pull a blush to your cheeks and make your breath hitch. He brushed a light kiss to your calf and pushed your legs apart, rubbing his palms up your inner thighs.
"You're going to have to be on your best behavior if you want more, my sweet little bird." Trailing a single finger up your soft folds, dragging through your slick arousal and across your clit, pulling a small whimper from your lips. "Or would you rather I just torment you?"
You bit your lip, shaking your head quickly, your eyes flickering between his eyes and his fingertips trailing up. It was a struggle for him not to chuckle at you—always just cheeky enough to be amusing, but you knew the pleasure he could give you, were so desperate for it that you folded like a cheap deck of cards under his slightest touch.
Absolutely perfect.
Mihawk moved his hands up from your thighs, curling an arm under your back to lift you up and shift you further back on the bed. Your breathing was ragged with anticipation as he brushed his lips to your stomach, trailing his hands back down to your hips, his lips lower and lower, grazing slowly across the soft skin between your hip bones.
Shifting lower and dragging his tongue slowly up your slit, circling the sensitive bud at the apex, giving a quiet growl of approval as your breathy, shuddering moans filled the small cabin and your hips arched in his hands.
His gaze turned up toward your face, watching you draw closer to falling apart with every passing moment. This was only the beginning, and he still hadn't decided if he was going to give you what you wanted...but the sight of your divine, nearly naked and writhing under his touch with his hat still resting on your head made him just a little weak.
He moved from between your legs before he could get lost in the sight of you and the sweet sounds of your moans, reveling in the agonized whimper that left you as he trailed his mouth back up your stomach.
Across to your ribs, pausing at your breasts to brush his lips and his skilled tongue across your sensitive nipples.
Dragging his tongue up the column of your throat, seizing a fistful of your hair and crushing his lips to yours in a deep, possessive kiss, shoving your hip down onto the mattress to keep you from grinding against him, shifting his hand between your thighs to circle a finger around your tight entrance without pushing in. Your low moans and whines of protest were like music to his ears, your knuckles gone white from the force with which you gripped at the sheets over your head to keep your hands from wandering.
Every slow pass up and down your body brought you closer to the peak of pleasure but never quite there—and brought him closer and closer to caving in and giving it to you. He had to wonder whether you had any idea just how much of a temptation you were to him. It had been years since the pirate lord had allowed any woman to affect him quite as strongly as you had.
How much time had passed couldn't be ascertained for sure when he reached his breaking point—his mouth pressed into the crook of your neck while you moaned and begged desperately in his ear, one of his hands squeezing your breast hard enough to bruise the soft flesh while his other worked his belt buckle open and shoved his pants down his hips in a desperation that rivaled yours.
He shoved your open shirt up your shoulders and arms and flung it away; gripped one of your thighs, pushing your leg up as high as it would go, and the low growl that left his throat as he thrust into you was drowned out by your own cries of abandon. Your hips arched up from the bed to meet his, one of your arms flinging around his neck and your hooking beneath his arm to grip hard at his shoulder.
"I don't recall giving you permission to move," he breathed into your neck. He gritted his teeth as he pushed his hips forward hard, shoving yours back down into the bed as you cried out again, your slick walls tightening around his cock.
"I—I'm sorry, I can't—I can't—please—" You gasped, your head falling back as he moved in you in deep, hard thrusts, your fingernails dragging down his back. "Oh God, please—"
He lifted a hand to grasp at your hair as he crushed his lips to yours, delving his tongue into your mouth and drawing in a deep breath as you moaned desperately into the fierce kiss. The prospect of punishing you, of what the hell he had even been punishing you for was forgotten in this rush of unquenchable lust and desire, of pure carnal need for your body.
He normally hated losing control, but this was on another level entirely. There was no room to hate this, no room for anything but pure pleasure, for getting lost inside you as your walls tightened around his cock, as every muscle in his groin tensed and tightened in anticipation of impending release—
Your lips breaking away from his, your cry of abandon as your climax swept over you pulled him right over the edge with you. He pulled your hip up from the bed to slam into you as he came, gritting his teeth against a low groan, the rhythmic contractions of your tight channel milking him dry. His hips jerked toward yours with each intense wave of pleasure, fingers tangling in your hair as he pressed his lips to your neck, the two of you shuddering and tangled together over the bedsheets.
Mihawk heaved a shuddering sigh into the crook of your neck, his fingers tangled in your hair as he brushed his thumb across your temple. Maybe it was the lingering euphoria, but he didn't even think about the next words that left his mouth before he heard them himself.
"God dammit, (Y/N), I love you."
But it was impossible to deny any longer. You really were everything he had never realized he craved. No, it wasn't just the euphoria in the moment—it was that brief flash of fear earlier at the thought of you being hurt, at the thought of losing you. The utter fury at the morons who had briefly held you captive. How perfectly you balanced and complemented his desires.
He felt as much as heard you draw in a small gasp beneath him. "Y—you—wh—?"
"You heard me," Mihawk interrupted your quiet, almost cautious stammering, murmuring against your neck. He brushed his lips against one of the small, round bruises he had left on the soft skin, and said it again, quietly, "I love you."
You were quiet for a long moment, but he wasn't concerned, still trailing kisses up the side of your neck. He had seen it in your eyes before now, heard it in the softness of your voice when you lay against him, your fingers in his hair and your lips brushing his.
Several seconds passed, before you turned your head slowly and pressed your lips to his, tentatively at first, and then deepening the slow kiss with a soft sigh. He shifted onto his side, tugging you to him by your hip. Your forehead came to rest against his as your lips drifted apart, still barely a breath away, your eyes closed, your voice a quiet whisper.
"I...love you."
(Ch. 2)
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miracledarling · 1 year
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if you feel stuck
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intro
at some point, we may sometimes feel stuck when manifesting our desires. it sucks right bae?💔😞maybe we feel like giving up, or it wouldn't work for some reason. even after others succeed. maybe there is loss of hope. but the world is yours, remember? are you going to stay stuck and complain, or do you truly want your desires that you'd finally change yourself?
why we feel stuck
it sucks right? to read all these success stories and only wish to be the one writing them? to have tried all the techniques you seen on youtube, tiktok, tumblr, twitter, you name it. and still, you've been stuck in same place, same circumstances. only dreaming about your dream life. you're still the same, you didn't change yourself. you remained in square one because you didn't move. do you want it or not? do you have it or not? why are you complaining all day? who stopped you from getting what you want? who gives it to you in the first place? yourself.
how to get unstuck
before you continue, i need to remind you that it's no use to read through this post and then keep scrolling on tumblr without applying the law. because you'll just be trapped in the cycle. no matter how many posts you read, you aren't getting anywhere without applying.
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work on self concept
the first thing you can do is to simply work on your self concept. why is self concept important? well self concept is the way you view yourself in the world. changing self concept changes you and everything about you. it changes what's around you. how you look, your abilities in manifesting, the way you're treated, etc. is self concept necessary? well no, you can manifest without doing it but self concept is very helpful to many. i'll make a self concept challenge soon but changing self concept is very easy. just become the desired version of yourself. you also do this by affirming self concept affirmations. you can also use different methods like visualising or sats but methods are optional of course.
take a break
another thing you could do is take short break from manifesting. sometimes we may experience burnout or feel exhausted and it's okay because wer're humans. so taking a break from manifesitng and taking your mind off of these worries can ease stress to help manifesting. but be sure to pick yourself back up afterwards and keep going.
keep persisting
sometimes our manifestation is right in front of us. we're so close and there is no reason to give up. perhaps it could happen if we just persisted for one more minute, so maybe you just need to keep going a little longer because it's working even if you don't quite expect it.
stop overconsuming, apply
seriously, take a moment to reflect on yourself. are you really applying? or are you just scrolling on tumblr again? did you really apply? did you actually even try or do you just affrim 5 times, check 3d, and read another blog post. overthink the law, get discouraged, complain about 3d. like stop right there, that isn't helping you. you should be applying, not reading all this stuff that you already know.
restart
i do not recommend doing this just because usually it would cause you to restart over and over again and repeat the cycle. however, if you've really been "manifesting" something for a long time and seeing nothing, then it may be time to compeltely restart. either revise it, or learn from the past mistake, and from now on apply the law. like actually apply. and do what works for you of course.
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ending notes
remember that you create reality. it's the law of assumption. you're the only one who can change circumstance and you must make that decision. so take accountability, be disciplined, and reflect on yourself. don't look for success story for boost of dopamine. motivation don't help you until you truly apply. you must do before you feel motivated. applying comes before motivation. discipline is more important than motivation. ask yourself if you're applying, remind yourself you are limitless. all you gotta change is you 🤍
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archie-sunshine · 4 months
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Another unhinged fic concept: driftrod DRIFT FUCKS UP edition
alright fellas I need y'all to stick with me on this one again. Also i've already finished writing this fic, and it turned out way longer than I thought it would be
SO! The topical datapatch from c.5 of Survey Says-! stuck in my brain and didn't leave and I thought! what other creative ways can i use this to bully rodimus?
Just for safety, here's your final warning before i start explaining this fic concept. (TW: DUBIOUS CONSENT, but in like? a comedy of errors sort of way)
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(let us all pray that this post doesn't get penis blasted for suggestive material)
Not to sound like a broken record but i think rodimus should get punished for being a bad captain who sucks at his job as much as physically possible.
The concept is- Drift has a topical patch that's supposed to reward for good behaviour and punish bad behaviour. He codes it so that it rewards when rodimus does his job right and it punishes him when he fucks up or is mean
THE CATCH IS! DRIFT DID NOT THINK THE PATCH WAS SEXUAL IN NATURE. Hence why he was comfortable sticking it on his amica/throuple partner without telling him.
ANTICS ENSUE
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Rodimus on the other hand, starts feeling bursts of pleasure and shocks for no reason, that only started when drift showed up, and immediately assumes that it's his doing, and its a fun kink thing that Drift decided to try without telling him. Rodimus is stupid and also a whore so thats fine with him.
He immediately, very expectedly, figures out the way to get pleasure from the chip, and devolves into the mindset of a lab rat pushing the treat button in an experiment like a million times.
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He gets a little bit carried away.
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Other stuff happens and rodimus gets reduced to a puddle, drift regrets his decisions and tries to help him, etc etc
But yeah! thats the fic!! Id love to know if u guys want me to post this one, bc it just needs to be edited and junk.
I'll also take this post to quickly mention that my inbox is still open, i love receiving asks and fic ideas and headcanons for various stuff! I'm planning on writing a post at some point about my elaborate blanket lost light jump ending au and headcanons, so u can look forward to that, but for now, i just love hearing peoples elaborate thoughts and headcanons on the mtmte characters SOSOSO much, the more schnasty and out of pocket the better, i always get a kick out of how feral this fandom gets over robots.
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I wanna tie you down to the bed and make you watch me use your favorite vibrator on my cock until I cum all over you. Then I’ll just leave you there covered in my cum and rub the vibrator all over your pussy until you cum on it too.
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edenfenixblogs · 4 months
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hey, gentile here. just came across this post of yours and, first of all- it's SUPERB. it showed me a perspective on being a jewish ally that i really wouldn't ever have considered by myself, made me more confident in my choice to put combating jew-hatred above the friendships I've recently lost, and gave me a really useful direction on where to go as an ally to jewish people onwards. that being said, there's a few details about it I'd like to press you about, if it's not too much trouble.
this point is probably worthy of an eyeroll as i'm a culturally christian atheist (making a concious effort to not be *that* kind of atheist), but: when you refer to G-d as the creator of all things, you stress that that includes evil- but that, in so doing, G-d is not evil themself. now, I'm asking this with the express purpose of you correcting me, so: why does this G-d- as a G-d fundamentally distinct from the Christian conception of God as a Super-Mega-Ultra-Perfect God Who Can Do No Wrong Ever- create evil? i, personally, have been led to believe by @/spacelazarwolf that it is simply because G-d, too, makes mistakes just like any human being, but the way you worded it in this paragraph (which I've included as a screenshot below) had me interpret G-d creating evil as a concious, intentional action. did i just not read it correctly? and, if i didn't, then is the reason G-d creates evil part of this central struggle you went in detail into in the same paragraph, and as such, a very individual part of Jewish belief that no two jews agree on? and if that is so, would you be comfortable with sharing your version of it?
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a few paragraphs after that one, you dedicated many words to make it absolutely crystal clear that, in the process of unlearning and combating jew-hatred in the society around me, i should, in spite of the vitriol that they propagate, love the former friends i lost to antisemitism. how- and *why* should i love the people who, on an early october 8th morning, actively celebrated the news of a massacre of Israeli civilians? who mocked- and still mock- the survivors and the families of hostages? who wield the memory of the holocaust as a baton against Jewish people's right to self defense? who deify terror groups who are up to their necks in atrocities? who make an active effort to spit on the face of *reality?* How could i possibly look at the face of a friend who chose allegiance to a terrorist group she did not even know existed four months ago over me- who she had actively interacted with for much longer?
would you rather we called ourselves "gentiles" or "goyim?" I've been calling myself a gentile for the longest time because i see jamming a word from a language i don't speak at all in an otherwise english sentence to be disrespectful and constitute appropriation, but you and other jumblr blogs have given me the impression that that is not the case. furthermore- i believe it was @/bambahalva who pointed out the usage of the word "gentile" in antisemitic segregation policies.
that is all- i hope this message finds you well. oh, yeah one more thing- what do you think of The Forward news network? i came across them by chance and next thing i knew I'd gotten into their newsletter.
WARNING: I HAVE FINISHED WRITING THIS AND IT'S LONGER THAN I EXPECTED AND ALSO MORE JEWISH THAN I EXPECTED LOL! I have done the most Jewish possible thing I could do and answered all of your questions with questions. I'm sorrryyyyyy! This is what happens when you grow up surrounded by rabbis and future rabbis! LMAOO
Oooh! What a good ask! I love this ask. OK, so! Let's go in order.
First of all, thank you so much for your kind words. And thanking you for backing your words with the action of prioritizing kindness over hatred. It matters. More than I can ever explain. Thank you.
You know, it's funny. People ask me a lot of questions about i/p that they think will have simple and straightforward answers that just don't. And I end up writing a lot of essays because of this. The questions you wrote me seem like they should be complex, but feel relatively straightforward to me.
Now, to your first bullet point: I don't know. I truly do not know. I think that G-d is fundamentally just...G-d, and in so being, G-d is truly unknowable to me. I think many Jews have many different interpretations on why G-d creates evil. I'm no rabbi, but one of my BFFs is and so is her mother and great grandfather. That doesn't give me any kind of authority. It just means I've spent a lot of time thinking about theological questions like this. As for my perspective, I'm a progressive/reform Jew, not a humanistic Jew. I do actually believe in G-d, but I vibe with the community philosophies of Humanistic Judaism a lot. So that's the perspective I'm coming from here:
I'm not a particular fan of the Book of Job, because I think it gets twisted and interpreted in Christian ways more than most Hebrew books and it can too easily be twisted into a "Don't question G-d, because G-d is perfect" narrative that I find to be fundamentally at odds with how I practice Judaism. Also, it's just a very sad story about how a good and kind man lost everything, and it makes me sad to think about. HOWEVER, that traditional "Don't question G-d" narrative is not how I learned to think about that book. The way I learned it, I believe the Book of Job describes this issue most explicitly. After Job loses everything he holds dear and talks to all his friends and begs again and again "Why? Why did G-d do this to me? Why would G-d do this to me when I'm a good person?" And basically G-d hears everyone answering for G-d with various reasons, "Maybe you were bad." "Maybe you should make an offering" Maybe this. Maybe that. And eventually G-d responds from within a storm (paraphrased of course) 'Why the fuck do you think it's your business to know? I made the whole universe! I made everything you see. I made the world that gave you your family in your first place. Why do you think you get to question my motives?'
The way I always interpreted that is: I don't fricking know! It's not really my business. What am I gonna do? Stop G-d? How does my knowing why G-d creates evil help anything? It doesn't mean we don't question G-d. It means we should instead focus on what we CAN control. I can't make 10/7/2023 not happen any more than I could stop The Holocaust or form an ocean. That's divine business, not human business. What I CAN do is make the world better now. What use is it challenging things that we cannot change? Things that are in the past? What's the point of asking why bad things happen when we can instead focus on stopping more bad things from happening. G-d named us his people when Abraham fought with G-d to stop the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah. Abraham repeatedly asked, "But are you sure? But what if there are 100 good people? 50 good people? 10 good people?" And G-d kept responding, basically, 'I mean, there aren't. I know this cuz of how I'm G-d and know all the things. But knock yourself out looking.' My interpretation of this was that G-d doesn't get mad when we do our utmost to help our fellow human beings. G-d gets mad when we waste our energy that we could be using to help our fellow man to instead be angry and rage futilely against the past. I say this as someone with PTSD as someone who attempted to stop a tragedy from occuring and failed and can never understand why. What informs my trauma and what makes it so hard to get past isn't that G-d allowed it to happen. It's that people did. It's that I begged for help before it happened--over and over and over to dozens of adults in various positions of authority in order to prevent this terrible thing from happening (no, I will not now or ever disclose what that thing is). And all the people who could have helped failed me, and now two people are dead. Because someone did an evil, evil thing. And a bunch of other people let it happen. I'm not mad at G-d. I'm mad at people. And yet, I also know that hating people and finding reasons to dismiss them and despise them is what leads to more tragedies like that happening. So, despite my rage, truly the only thing to do is to love people. It's the only that helps. It's the only thing that repairs the world. It's the only thing that we can control. So, in short, my answer to "Why does G-d create evil?" is "Why should I spend my valuable time on earth trying to answer that question when, instead, I can spend that same exact amount of time asking millions of people, 'How can I help? What's wrong, and how can I help make any part of it better?'?" We don't need to understand G-d to make the world a better place. I'm fine leaving G-d stuff to G-d and spending my time on the human stuff.
Now, your second bullet point. Love their souls. You don't have to love what they've done. But they are human beings, as are we all. I think this can also easily be twisted into the Christian framework of "Hate the sin, love the sinner," but that's not what I mean at all. People's evil deeds are a part of them. They need to take responsibility. There is no divine absolution for crimes that people do unto each other in Judaism. If you harm a person, G-d cannot forgive you for that. Only the person or people you harmed can forgive you. And to a certain degree, we are all defined by our actions toward others. And so, no. I do not forgive the terrorists who woke up and decided to kill a bunch of Israelis and Israeli-adjacent humans. I do not forgive those who celebrate the deaths of Israelis because of some misguided sense of justice. I do not forgive the people who continue to send me hatred and death threats day after day after day after day. And I do not love the parts of them that did and do those horrible, unforgivable things. But my goodness. They were babies once. They either had parents who love(d) them, which is so sad, because they have this life of love and they chose instead to fill it with so much hate. Or they didn't have any parents or loved ones or anyone to guide them and, my goodness. That is so sad. How terrifying and alone that must feel. Maybe they have friends and family who love them and are instead wasting their precious time on this planet directing their energy at raging against me and 15 million other Jews they've never met. Or maybe they don't have anyone who loves them and they think that hating me and harming me will bring them some sense of purpose and joy. What a horrid way to live.
My Grandpa died last year. I have a wonderful family for whom I'm very grateful, and I even have good memories with my Grandpa. But he was not a good person. He came from an abusive home, and weaponized that abuse on his loved ones until he drove them all away. He was a narcissist. Not in the pop psychology sense. But in the actual clinical sense. He ruined every relationship that ever mattered to him--personal and professional. And in the end, because of his own actions, he died alone. He had pushed everyone so far (often with legal threats and action) that when he died, he laid on a slab for weeks because nobody could figure out who to call, because he had no one left. (For reference, Jewish burials are supposed to happen rather quickly and two weeks is...not good.) He was the only person in his generation who was not born in Israel--my family on his side has lived in Israel since looooong before even the British Mandate and he was the only person in his family born and raised in the US. As far as we can tell, the family on that side has been in Israel for as long as Jews have existed. He was religious. And while I've never been to Israel or met any of my family there, he did go. And he kept in touch with his relatives there before driving them away too. He was a wealthy man, but convinced himself that everyone only wanted him for his money and then decided to horde it instead. He left nothing to his children or to me. He left all his money in an endowment to his university--a place that uses that money to fund anti-Israel organizations now. He died alone, without his family that lived nearby, and with a legacy that will now cause active harm to the family that lived far away. He could have died surrounded by the loved ones from around the world who wanted nothing more than to be near him and loved by him. His story is a tragedy. The story of every person who chooses hatred over love is a tragedy. The story of someone who woke up and chose to murder others or to delight in the death of others is a tragedy. I love the soul in the center of these people. I loved my grandfather. I could not be around him. I cannot forgive some of the things he said and did. But I love the person he could have been. I love the part of him that gave me some good memories. I love the family he gave to me.
No, we do not all need to love or forgive those who have wronged us or terrorized us or murdered our loved ones. But that is different from mourning a human soul. From loving the potential of a human soul to do good in the world, and mourning the loss of that soul and its potential. Every human being--every single one no matter what they have done in their lives--has the potential to create goodness and make the world a better place. Every moment of every single day is a new chance to meet that challenge and do our best. Sure, not all of us have it in us to try our best every single moment. Sometimes life is hard and we're sad and tired and hungry and angry. And that's ok, because we have tomorrow, and an hour from now, and a minute from now. But the moment someone chooses to take action and decides that action should be to cause another harm or celebrate the harm that was caused? That's a tragedy. And when a life is extinguished, that is a life that loses its potential to try again and do better. We shouldn't love people because we deem them worthy of love. We should love people because they are people. And so are we. And how wonderful is that? I could choose to hate them. It would be so easy! But why should I do that? What do I gain? What do they gain? And isn't it so wonderful that I chose to love instead? And isn't it so wonderful that you can, too?
As for your final bullet point: I have no preference. I say goyim cuz it's easier for me. Goy/gentile/non-Jew are all fine to me. I have some icky feelings about the word gentile for a variety of linguistic reasons I won't bore you with. But some other people don't like when non-Jews appropriate Yiddish words. Others (including me) find it wonderful when non-Jews call themselves goyim. All my closest non-Jewish people call themselves goyim, including my sister! Non-jew is the most neutral in English and least likely to offend anyone. But it still separates Jews as an other whereas "goy" is a way to distinguishing yourself from Jews while also being an acknowledgment of our culture. As far as I'm concerned as long as a goy is being a goy (ally, positive) rather than a goy (derogatory) I don't mind that they call themselves goyim. LOL! Idk, friend. Do what makes you happy! What do you prefer?!
Regarding The Forward news network: They are a reliable Left-Center source with a high credibility and reporting rating and only one failed fact check in the past five years for which they issued a correction. I would consider them a reliable source. They cover legitimate issues of people who support Palestinan self-determination ostensibly being punished for their stances. They publish Op-eds critical of Netanyahu, who is terrible. And they address how antisemitism is harming diaspora Jews. They seem to consistently emphasize the humanity of everyone, which you can tell based on the rest of my post is very important to me, but they also avoid over-editorializing on news that is not in the Op-Ed section. I'll never endorse any source as perfect or guaranteed to be free of problems or harm or bad takes, but they do seem to make a genuine effort to be factual, clear, and wholly truthful. Note: I highly recommend that everyone installs the Media Bias/Fact Check extension on their web browsers. Get in the habit of checking and evaluating sources critically. It's a skill that will serve you your whole life.
@clawdia-houyhnhnm I hope this helps. And thank you for your thoughtful ask and commitment to intercultural understanding. <3
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pretty-weird-ideas · 8 months
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IWTV Twitter and the so-called "Fake Black Fans" Invasion
Something that I've been seeing a lot after it gained traction on Max is white fans condescendingly talking down to Black fans, some of whom have been in this fandom longer than they have, and acting as if they don't know what they are talking about because of their critique including a concept or subtext they wish to ignore. I want to repeat that this doesn't happen in the same amounts to white fans who make analyses or memes, it seems to uniquely be Black fans speaking AAVE or with Black pfps (visibly black bc of this) being bombed in the comments for having valid opinions.
I reached about the fifth tweet of white women going onto posts of Black people (particularly older women on Black Twitter) talking about IWTV and saying "You don't know what you're talking about, read the source material/finish the show" or entirely saying that "You don't understand fandom culture". Prompting those Black people to respond curtly that they, in fact, have read the source material, finished the show long before they have, and have been a fandom elder since before they even rolled into town. I witnessed someone doing BABY talk to a 30-year-old Black woman who was talking about episode 5, with "Well you see, it's not my fault you can't read". And when the woman professed anger back, she was the one blocked.
I witnessed this backhanded shit FIVE TIMES over the course of this week. With different white women doing the job of whitesplaining fandom culture and Anne Rice to random Black fans who already know unprompted with a level of passive aggressiveness and annoyance that only comes with doing it repeatedly. I must assure you (white people who are doing this) nobody asked, you can put down your task and stop pretending like you are doing something Sisyphean. You are not legally required to explain and describe IWTV poorly while getting into screaming matches with far more educated Black fans on Twitter and Tumblr.
People are acting as if there's a rising population of Black fans who are "Fake Fans" and must be stopped, lest they start up the freaky discourse. OOHHH NOOOO! Whatever are we to do then???? And therefore it is completely normal and a civic duty to blast Black fans in the comments of everything that they say about the show or the books.
I've been seeing people unironically football tackle reaction posts of the show with paragraphs worth of text that is inflammatory and backhanded. This is even more apparent when the poster is visibly black or uses AAVE. The association is that Black people who use AAVE or memes obviously are uneducated, lack media literacy, and cannot consume content the way that "White" fans do.
It is an attempt to tone police Black fans away from creating new topics of discussion or creating/expanding the fandom space with the growing watcher-base. It always has to happen in their chosen language, on their time, in the places they can reach us and yell some more. They are very discomforted when Black fans have pockets in fandom where they can't be outnumbered and they do in fact control discourse in a way that isn't productive to respectability. (As much as I am a big fan of big words and rambling, that is somewhat what is expected in this fandom as a Black person to be considered "respectable" and I'm not willing to ignore or shy away from that).
This is also hand in hand with my previous thoughts about fans' dog-whistling about media becoming accessible/mainstream and how "Others" will ruin it and outnumber them. I noticed that in the IWTV fandom, it seems like white fans believe that the "Others" is just Black Twitter in general. Not just "Twitter" but specifically Black people who don't fit into their narrow respectability politics.
I hate to tell you all this, but Black fandom culture is still fandom culture, and Black people do in fact read and write. I should not be seeing a pattern of random white fans going into the comments of Black people who mention IWTV and automatically assuming that they have no clue what they're talking about.
Like clockwork, exactly as when the show came out, racist white book fans started up the discourse of "The Black people are going to ruin fandom with their racism discourse and spit on Anne Rice!" and then when that time passed, the show reaches Max, and here they go barking again.... We really need to get a muzzle.
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simmyfrobby · 2 months
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Being a bitch about the leafs getting a dewey is immature. Sadposting and making little edits about how awful Toronto is? Fuck off. Just because your team cant make the playoffs dont blame the teams that can. We will love him on the leafs. Get over yourself.
okay so i normally delete these kinda asks without bothering w a reply because i honestly think they’re kind of tiresome & because i know you’re just being a fan and if i can forgive wild fans for being unreasonable about their team i then i can forgive leafs fans for it too. 
with that said: braindead take.
just. stupid. so stupid, in fact, that i will write a reply because i think it genuinely might make me feel a little better. 
okay so lets start right at the end. WHY should i get over the fact that a player i like is no longer on my team. why should it matter that you’ll love him. my team was sold of in little bits to teams i either don’t care about or actively root against. 
that?? sucks?? 
i care about my team. i want my team to win. i want my favourite players to stay on my team and when they don’t that’s upsetting. this is not a revolutionary concept.
also the way it all played out was kinda shitty. i knew we would likely lose duhaime, but after losing pat i thought we would maybe get to keep dewar. and when the deadline passed i thought we were ok. hell, even connor thought he was safe. and that he would get to stay with his friends. and then it turns out we lost him at the last second. and that’s fucking gutting. 
“we will love him in toronto” ok. even if that is true, my favourite toy was taken away and given to some other kid. i don’t care whether or not they’re happy to have him. i didn’t want to give him away. were you happy for the canes when bunting went there instead of coming back to the leafs??? no because that’s not how this works. i don’t want good things for the leafs i want good things for my team. i don’t want other teams to win i want my team to win
and that’s allowed.
encouraged even.
“sadposting and making little edits” ok this is fair and accurate and i might make it my blog title if you don’t mind. it is funny to me that you interpret that poem as being about how much the leafs suck and not about?? how being traded suddenly?? and your best friend being traded away?? sucks??? poems are funny things and don’t say anything definitively, so you are allowed to interpret it however you like, but i haven’t gotten any angry avs fans in my inbox yelling about my "duhaime sadposts"?
but ok! directors note & something worth keeping in the back of your mind when interacting w this edit and also all other dewar edits: 
This is not!!! About you!!! 
i am not trying to hurt your feelings!! i do not care about your team!! for the love of god please just unfollow my blog.
also. and this is pedantic but i want to say it because its been bothering me. you don’t get “A Dewey”, you get Connor Dewar. the deweys were a matched set and without duhaime on the same team what does that even matter. you don’t get “dewey 2” you get Connor Dewar. congrats! that's great! he’s wonderful. please treat him nice etc etc.
being a bitch about the leafs is immature and i will do a better job of tagging my anti-leafs posts from now on. ill even tag all of my dewey poems as anti leafs if they're this upsetting to you.
one final thing: the wild not making the playoffs is very much the fault of other teams and i absolutely could blame other teams for it. theyre better and they beat us and now we might not make the playoffs. again: that's how this works. i get your point though, its not the leafs´ fault the wild have been miserable this season but i reserve the right to dislike them either way :)
congrats on the cute little guy. i will miss him very much. and again: PLEASE unfollow.
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zerobaseonefics · 1 year
Text
reaction to the lipstick trend (pt.2) ㅡ park hanbin, junhyeon, kamden
boys planet trainees x gn!reader
genre : fluff
I HAD SM TROUBLE WRITING FOR JUNHYEON FR. YOU WILL PROBABLY FEEL IT </3 hope y'all like it tho 😔🤙🏼
pt. 1 here
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• P.Hanbin
at first, hanbin bring that trend up as a joke... but he didn't expect you to be so hyped up about it and to run to find the lipstick. he's not complaining tho, he thinks you're cute when you're excited about something. even more if the something is peppering his face with kisses.
when you came back, you had two different colors. you plopped on his laps, sitting sideways, as you showed both of the colors.
"which one do you prefer?"
an idea bloomed in hanbin's mind. you know, there are basic principles for an healthy relationship. one of the main point is to trust your significant other. however, you made a mistake by trusting hanbin, because he was literally going to scam you in order to get more kisses.
faking hesitation, hanbin chooses the pinkish one.
you fell into his trap with no problem, applying the lipstick on yourself with hanbin telling you when it was good since you had no mirror with you.
your attention went back to him, and with no hesitation whatsoever, you started planting soft kisses all over his face. they were longer than a simple peck, to make sure the stain would be visible enough.
hanbin closed his eyes, a shy smile that he tried to refrain on his face. you started with his nose, then moved down to his chin, back to his cheeks. he savored the feeling of your soft lips on his skin as you kissed his jaw. your kisses ended up going to his forehead and you finished, looking at his pleased face.
hanbin didn't open his eyes yet, thinking you would kiss him more. when he felt one of your hand ruffling his hair, only one of his eyes popped open.
"you're already done?" he asked.
"yes! i think you have enough marks on your face."
"could've let you kiss me all day" he muttered inaudibly as you grabbed your phone. it was okay, he had a plan anyway.
"should we record now?" you said and he nodded.
you recorded the video the same way it was done on tiktok, and you sat with him to review it, making sure it was good enough to post. you loved it. hanbin loved it. but it isn't about love right now, it's about being a fraud. hanbin was a fraud but that is a okay, because scammers also deserves a love story!
"i think we should do it again because the color isn't suitable with the light of the room. it's not pretty enough with the color of my hair neither. when i think about it, maybe we should try again with your other lipstick."
everything goes according to plan because you were completly oblivious to his stratagem. you simply grabbed something to wash away the stains on his face and the color on your lips. he let you cup his face while you softly brushed a tissue against his skin to take off the previous kisses. that's how hanbin, a mastermind, succeeded in making you do that trend three times in a row in order to have more kisses.
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• Kamden
"i would rather stand naked in alaska cornered by a hundred people than do this."
you felt like your jaw dropped to the ground when kamden replied this to your request. sure, you knew he would be reluctant, but not that much! he just couldn't take this seriously, the whole concept sounded stupid to him.
"so. you want me to sit here in front of a camera while you reapply lipstick but you fail just for the sake of failing and i use my finger to do... whatever they are doing on that tiktok and then i have to look at you like i'm.... yeah no. do it with your teddy bear or something."
you whined at his brutally honest opinion, a bit shocked considering the fact he spit his venom with a straight face.
"what? it's cute, right?" you insisted, sure he was going to change his mind for you. he looked at you as you gave him dejected puppy eyes. kamden scoffed, looking away. there was no way he's falling for this. no, he was stronger than this. in his opinion, intimacy was supposed to stay... intimate. why would people on the internet have to see this kind of content from you two? plus, it just ruins a moment to turn on a camera while he's with you. it's staged. it's not natural.
you sighed in defeat, realizing there was really no way in hell kamden would do this.
"right... that's okay, i'll ask a friend to do it with me."
"yeah, just do tha- what?"
an alarm has been triggered in kamden's brain. if you did this with a friend, wasn't it weird? and what friend were you going to do it with?
"what friend?"
"you mean 'who'?"
"yeah, who?"
"i don't know, maybe jay."
it was enough for kamden to change his mind. he pointed his finger at you, with a new found energy.
"bring that damn lipstick." your face lit up at his words.
"we're doing it?" you exclaimed.
"yeah, only if you don't post the video."
you nodded frantically. after you went to grab what was need for the video, you sat next to him. "you're ready?" you asked, "yeah, whatever".
despite his grumpy attitude, you weren't oblivious to the way he played nervously with his fingers when you planted the first kiss. you weren't oblivious to the fact that he was biting his inner cheek in order to not smile, either. you knew he liked it, otherwise you wouldn't have done it.
kamden knew he liked it as well. but how could he show it? it would be embarassing after all the fuss he made not to do the challenge. you guys filmed the video, and you respected your promise by not posting it online, keeping it to yourself. this was the day kamden realized he loved cheek kisses the best, and he waited for you to sleep to send himself the video secretly.
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• Junhyeon
you literally asked the wrong person. yes, junhyeon accepted your request, but there was something about him you forgot. junhyeon would combust if he didn't create a mess each day. even a little one, it was fine by him, but this menace could not go to bed happily if he didn't participate into chaos.
"how about i apply the lipstick on your lips for you?" he proposed. you didn't think about it twice, handing him the makeup supply. you felt the makeup on your lips as junhyeon was putting it for you. at first he did it right, but you noticed that little by little, a smirk appeared on his face and he started to go overline. pulling your face away, you jokingly hit his arm.
"what are you doing" you said, acting like you were mad even if you find the joke funny.
"what? isn't overlining the lips trendy?" junhyeon responded, acting innocent.
"yeah, act like it wasn't one of your jokes" you rolled your eyes still pretending to be annoyed.
"you were so pretty i couldn't stay focused, that's why" junhyeon explained in a dramatic tone.
you made an exaggerated grimace after hearing his cheesy words, hitting him once again. junhyeon's laugh ringed through your ears while you were catching a tissue to clean up your lips. he looked at you from afar, a smile on his face. junhyeon got up from the couch he was sitting on and went to backhug you. you put your hands on his as you felt his lips planting soft kisses to your jaw.
"i'll do it properly this time, if you still want to do it" junhyeon said, resting his head on your shoulder.
"is it another joke" you answered with a straight face.
"yes."
you whined while he started laughing once again. hearing your complaints, he didn't let go of you to make you turn around and face him. then, junhyeon leaned in to kiss your lips quickly. "i'm kidding, i'll be serious this time. i want kisses too."
after that, junhyeon got kisses from you indeed, but not because of the trend.
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elasticitymudflap · 5 months
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you think your boy Simon is gonna come back for season 2 or is he all arced out?
LISTEN *GRIPS U* SORRY IM ALL CAPS IM JUST BEING VERY NORMAL RN
SEASON 1 WAS BASICALLY ABOUT GETTING HIM TO THE POINT WHERE HE WAS SIMPLY NO LONGER LOOKING FOR AN EXCUSE TO THROW HIS LIFE AWAY, AND RECOGNIZING/NOT ROMANTICIZING THE CONCEPT OF SACRIFICE IN HIS RELATIONSHIP WITH BETTY BECAUSE OF HOW DISPROPORTIONALLY SHE SACRIFICED HERSELF FOR HIM IN WAYS HE WASN'T COGNIZANT OF.
IMHO:
SEASON 1 BARELY TOUCHED UPON ADDRESSING OR WORKING THROUGH HIS ICE KING TRAUMA. THIS IS MY FIRST MAIN THING I NEED THEM TO TOUCH UPON.
IT CONCERNS ME THAT SIMON DIDN'T EVEN COMPLETELY CONNECT THE DOTS IN THAT ALL THE CRAP WORLDS THEY WENT TO WERE HINGING ON WHO HE IS AND THE IMPACT HIS LOVE AND SACRIFICE (OR THE LACK THEREOF) HAD ON THE WORLD (DID SORT OF FOR A MOMENT IN THE STAR BUT NOT NEARLY ENOUGH IMO)
HE'S OBVIOUSLY STILL PROCESSING HIS YEARS TAKING CARE OF MARCY IN THE APOCALYPSE???? THERE WAS NO FOLLOW-UP WITH HER PHONECALL EVEN IN THE FINAL MONTAGE???? WHAT HAPPENED IN OOO WHEN HE DISAPPEARED??? THESE TWO NEED TO FUCKING TALK FOR REAL
WHAT DOES SIMON'S LIFE LOOK LIKE WHEN HE'S NO LONGER AN EXHIBIT?? HOW THE HELL DID HE BECOME/CONSENT TO BECOMING AN EXHIBIT IN THE FIRST PLACE I MEAN WHAT THE FUCK?? HOW DID HIS LIFE CHANGE SO DRASTICALLY (OR DID IT NOT) FROM OBSIDIAN??
THE MORAL OF "MAYBE WE SHOULD HAVE GONE ON THAT TRIP TO AUSTRALIA INSTEAD / WHO KNOWS WHAT LIFE WOULD HAVE BEEN LIKE" IS SO BAD FOR HIM TO END CONCLUSIVELY ON AFTER EVERYTHING WE'VE SEEN BECAUSE THE WORLD STILL FUCKING ENDED??? MAYBE HE FOUND THE CROWN, MAYBE HE DIDN'T, BUT EITHER WAY FROM WHAT WE SAW IN THE ALT WORLDS IT WAS ALL GOING TO END IN TRAGEDY AND MAYBE THIS IS THE ONLY WORLD WHERE WE GET A BITTERSWEET END INSTEAD OF A HELL WORLD THANKS TO THEIR DESICIONS??? IDK!!!!!! I'D LIKE TO EXPLORE THAT CONCEPT I THINK
THE UNIVERSE IS OUT OF HIS NOODLE, BUT DOES SIMON'S HEAD-PORTAL STILL WORK?? CAN HE CONNECT TO FIONNA WORLD IF HE'S IN HIGHLY CHARGED MAGICAL ENVIRONMENTS??? ACTUALLY, WHAT THE HELL ARE THE LONG TERM EFFECTS OF A HUMAN HAVING A UNIVERSE IN HIS DANG HEAD
HE'S CONNECTING WITH ASTRID NOW AND SEEMS TO BE ON MUCH BETTER TERMS, IS SHE GOING TO INSPIRE HIM TO START WRITING FIONNA AND CAKE STORIES AGAIN TO COPE IN A HEALTHY WAY WITH HIS PAST THIS TIME??
SIMON'S RELATIONSHIP WITH ICE THING???
SIMON'S HUMAN PAST IN GENERAL: WHY IS THIS DUDE THE WAY HE IS??? WHY DID HE BELIEVE THE THINGS HE DID, STUDY THEM, MAKE THEM THE THINGS HE HINGED HIS LIFE AND CAREER ON???
ON THAT NOTE: FLASHBACKS. MOTHER FUCKING FLASHBACKS. MORE OF HIS ADVENTURES WITH BETTY. WE ACTUALLY SEE SO LITTLE OF WHAT THEY WERE LIKE TOGETHER WHEN ACTUALLY HAPPY, HUMAN, AND IN A RELATIONSHIP TOGETHER, IN THEIR ELEMENT, AND NOT STRICKEN WITH LIFE-OR-DEATH DESICION MAKING EXCEPT FOR HIS DUMB ASS GETTING BRAINED BY A CHERRY JAR
HIS YEARNING TO FIND BETTY AND APOLOGIZE TO HER WAS "TECHNICALLY" HANDLED IN THE SHOW, BUT YOU CAN NOT TELL ME THIS DUDE DOESN'T HAVE LASTING ISSUES AND TRAUMA AROUND THAT. ABOUT THE FIRST TIME HE PUT ON THE CROWN AND BETTY DISAPPEARING FOREVER. ABOUT THE GUILT AND FEAR ABOUT HER BEING DEAD DURING THE WAR. ABOUT LIVING NINE FUCKING HUMAN LIFETIMES IN A HAZE WHERE ALL HE KNEW WAS HE HURT THE PERSON HE LOVED MOST AND HE JUST NEEDED TO FIND HER. IT BECAME AN INTEGRAL PART OF ICE KING'S CHARACTER, HIS MOST DEFINING TRAIT STRIPPED TO THE STUDS. HE HELD ONTO THAT LAST PIECE OF SIMON PETRIKOV SOME HOW UNTIL SO MUCH TIME HAD PASSED HIS ONLY HOPE TO EVER FIND HER AGAIN WAS TO USE TIME TRAVEL. I'D LIKE SOME MORE OF THAT, IF YOU PLEASE.
HOW IS HE ACTUALLY COPING POST-SEASON 1? WHAT ARE HIS THOUGHTS ON ALL THE WORLDS THEY VISITED, THE THINGS THAT HAPPENED TO HIM, THE IMPLICATIONS, HIS INTERPRETATIONS? HE MAY BE IN THERAPY BUT HE'S STILL DRINKING.
ANYWAY
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tenpintsof-sundrop · 5 months
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I really really hate to be that person - especially because I know a lot of people are under the impression that fanfic authors are greedy and we should be grateful for any comments we get, even if those comments are full of unauthorized concrit, even if they're kind of rude, even if they're weirdly self-shaming (sometimes insinuating that people should feel bad over reading the dark or smutty content in the fics or that we should feel bad for writing it in the first place even though you're also reading it??).
But like, lately, I have been getting so many comments along the lines of "this fic should be longer!!" "I wish this was a series!!" "please turn this into a series!" "I would read endless sequels of this!!!" - today someone literally commented on one of my fics saying that it was a war crime that the fic was 30k instead of being 'a whole series'. And I totally understand the mindset that if something is good, you want more of it. If you enjoy something, you want more of it. But these comments are definitely not as flattering as people think they are.
When reading those comments - it doesn't always come off as a compliment. Most of my fics range from 5k to 30k on average, and they are usually oneshots or oneshots that I have split into multiple parts in order to be more readable - most of my longer, ongoing series are abandoned because I didn't have the steam to maintain them. (Most people don't know at all how hard it is to write a good, coherent, well-plotted 100k fic and actually keep up with it.) After I post the fic I have written later this week, I will have written over 400k this year alone, with my entire AO3 having over one million words split between 79 different fics.
So often, having people look at my fics and having their only comment be to 'write more' - feels like an insult. Because I do write more. I have written more. I write consistently. (It just sucks that people have almost nothing to say about what I have already written.)
Having people look at my fics - usually very long fics - and go "hey, this would be better if it was longer!!" or "hey, that was good, but the only productive thing I have to say about it is: make it longer" - it always feels very discouraging.
It doesn't make me want to rush to write more of that fic. In fact, most of the time, I actively avoid working on sequels to fics where the only comments are 'more please' because I know the only thing people will say about the sequel is 'when are you gonna make more?' - and oftentimes, I don't intend to make more.
I have said this in another post, but the ending to my fics are always intentional. I don't write fics with the mindset of turning them into a 100 part series. I write fics with the mindset of making them like a film or a short TV series - telling a capsule of a story with a very intentional beginning, middle, and end. And if I write a sequel, it's because I feel there is more to be told - but I will also cap off that sequel with a very intentional ending.
(Also, don't get me started on the complex of - if fics don't have the classic 'happy ending' people feel like every single thread needs to be resolved until it gets to a more classic happy ending, when I love writing intentional melancholic and thoughtful endings.)
Also - in general, I feel like people don't understand how much work goes into a fic. It might take you about 2 hours to read a fic that's 30k (and a lot of people who are avid readers probably read faster than that, reading it in an hour or less) - but concepting that fic, writing that fic, and meticulously editing that fic so that it can be readable and pleasant for people takes upwards of 20 hours of work. I would say realistically, upwards of 30 hours. And those are just working hours - hours sitting at the computer actively working. That doesn't include the time spent in between workshopping the ideas in my head while I am doing other mundane tasks in life.
It's very, very easy to consume a 30k oneshot in one sitting and then hold out your plate and go "more please!!" without putting any thought into how much work went into the original fic.
All of this just to say - please think about these things next time you are commenting on a fic (or even closing a fic without commenting at all), or doing something stupid like generating a fic with AI - which steals from everyday hard working fanfic writers. Fanfiction is hard work - it's a labour of love, and it shouldn't be about blind consumerism where you finish one and then rapidly start looking for the next one. You should appreciate each one like a good, hand pulled taffy instead of gobbling them all down like cheap candy mass made by factory machines.
Yeah - I think that's it.
-your local over worked (but still passionate) fanfic writer
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