#AND THAT STINKIN FANFIC

[wonderwiggs]

aaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH

OKAY SO

There was this fanfic I think called

Come what may AND IT WAS A SOMETHING OF AN OPRA OF OBI WAN SINGING COME WHAT WAY AND HIS OTHER SONGS

I HAVE SPENT THE LAST YEAR TRYING TO FIND IT

It’s EMBEDDED IN MY BRAIN AND I WANNA READ IT SOMEONE HELP OR MAKE ME A FANFIC OF MY LOVELY OBI WAN SINGING

EL DE TANGO ROXANNE

I will be in your dept 😭😭💜

[metalmiez]

My dear friend @hopelesslysleepy wrote a stinkin‘ cute one shot for Halloween, and of course I couldn’t resist drawing a little illustration for it ❤️

Go and read Paws and Portents and leave her some love ❤️

[iheartjameshetfield]

Okay okay I know I would kill for James and the urge to be his girlfriend is killing me but imagine being his girl bsf.

Like from kindergarten you and him where friends and now you two are inseparable. Just for him to be so comfortable around you makes me feel a type of wayyy. And you two tell each other like EVERYTHING.

Because your parents are always out of town, James would always come around to your house and stay for days on days.

(Like when you two are like 15 or something) You somehow manage to get alcohol and cigarettes. So you two would just get drunk to a degree and mess around in your back yard.

Like having that kinda friendship with James to the point where you are like brother and sister is so fucking cute like OH MH GOD SOMEONE HELP ME. 🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️

Someone send help this boy is too cute

NO CUZ IVE HAD THE SAME THOUGHT

like as much as i literally wanna marry this beautiful specimen of a man, just imagine being his best friend in the whole world.

you would’ve been there for all his shit and he would be there for all of yours. i feel like james use to be the type of person who didn’t know how to comfort someone that much, like he’d be more awkward ‘how do i stop her from being sad’ he would mean well but he just wouldn’t know what to do

but with you? god you’ve been friends for lord knows how long, he knows that he doesn’t even have to say anything. he knows that you just being in his embrace, hugging you for as long as you need it and him murmuring sweet words to you is enough. he knows that you’ll be ready to talk about it on your own pace. he knows not to try and give you advice. he understands that you just need someone to understand and hear you

during classes, you two wouldn’t even focus. you would just keep talking and talking, shit talking everyone you can, drawing the weirdest shit you can think of in each other’s notebooks or playing games like tic tac toe.

most of the time, one of you, if not the both of you, were asleep. you grab his wrist slowly to be sure not to wake him up and draw on his hand or write meaningless notes or insults on him. or when you’re the one who is asleep, he’d mindlessly play with the ends of your hair. i feel like he would also take notes for you if you fell asleep during smth important. you couldn’t even count the amount of times you both were late to class because both slept throughout the session, james’ back slouched against his chair while you rest your head on his arm.

he would alwayssss make sure to walk you to your class first, not caring how late he would be to his own.

sometimes, when you both were sooo done with school, you’d ditch. you would leave early and go back to your house. you would eat whatever snack you found while he shows you something new he learned on the guitar, or you’d both be in the back yard, listening to whatever was on the radio while you pass a joint back and forth, talking about whatever came to mind since there were no secrets between the two of you

james would teach you how to drive since your parents didn’t have the time. he’d make silly remarks, pretending to clutch onto the seatbelt harder than necessary as he prays to god to forgive him for everything he’s done while you tell him to shut up and not be overdramatic.

during prom, you were sort of down that no one had asked you, although you weren’t surprised since you didn’t really interact with anyone from your grade other than james.

to make you feel better, he would buy you flowers and ask you instead. he’d do the whole matching his tie with your dress and even pick you up from the front door like a gentlemen.

when you guys were in middle school, you started using this camera that you found somewhere in your house. you would take pictures of the weirdest things or take pictures of james during the most unusual timings. he could be opening a can of beer, or picking out a record, or even tuning his guitar and every three seconds, he’d feel you take a picture of him.

it annoyed him a lot at first, which only made you take more pictures of him, but after a while he got used to it. in fact, he enjoyed it and would sometimes use the camera to take pictures of you or the both of you together.

james sees you as his little sister, so he hates it whenever you’d wear something a little showy. whenever you’d go to a gig with him or a club or just anywhere, he always makes sure to stay close to you, chasing off any guy that even thinks about making a move on you. you get annoyed at him most of the time but other times, you were thankful. although you did find it irritating whenever he’d pull your shirt up or your skirt down or even giving you his jacket, telling you to cover up.

this picture of james is so childhood-best-friend trope i cant explain it, but he would totally smile this way with you only or when you tell him to smile big for the camera, he’d give you this goofy grin 😭😭

[whumpdoyoumean]

Sometimes being a fic writer is just, "I'm not getting as much writing done as I wanted, but I am learning a lot about taro roots!"

[ishipthis]

So I know that you're all patiently waiting for the next chapter of I didn't see this coming, and it's on its way, I promise. (Unexpected emergency room visit be damned!) Butttt in an unexpected turn of events, during all the shenanigans, me and one of my absolute favourite people @gleektasticklaine started writing a new fic together that is going to blow your minds!

Seriously, we are SO EXCITED about it.

So yes, I didn't see this coming IS coming. BUT, so is something else, and it will cruising in to Ao3 and your dashboards sooner than you think. ;)

It's going to be a splash!

[riickgrimes]

IM IN LOVE WITH EDDIE DIAZ

[blorbologist]

Two for joy - Chapter 22

[This one can be read without context of the other chapters! It’s some Perc’ahlia elopement fluff, with a couple AU twists here n there <33]

“Maybe this was a bad idea.”

Percy, on the bed, hums. “Then it was a bad idea.”

“But we can’t not send someone-”

“This is your father we’re talking about, yes? I say it’s perfectly good for him to be stood up.”

Vex’s exhale is knocked further from her lungs with each step as she keeps pacing. When she reaches the opposite wall, the desk, she turns on her heel, running her hand over the length of her braid. “This isn’t just about him, Percy - it will hurt Whitestone too if no ambassador turns up. Or if it looks like I chickened out -”

“Then we’ll weather it.” It’s almost frustrating how calm he is about this when everything is almost ringing in Vex’s ears. On them, snagging on the points of them, where they might glide off rounder or sharper ones.

She hears the bed shift, his book find its place on the side table. She keeps pacing, looking at her feet - one, two, three, four; one, two, three, four - because there’s so much moving in her chest that her legs and arms and hands and mouth want to writhe in sympathy, and if she’s marching into that city again at least she can get some practice in and - one, two, three -

“Vex.” He catches her on the turnaround, hands raised like he means to hold her arms. She bumps into his chest and latches on - Percy adapts easily enough to hold her.

“Vex’ahlia,” Percy murmurs into her forehead, before she digs her nose into his shoulder. He smells different, now - less of his terrors follow him to waking, and more of his little pleasures. Tea. Bookdust. Fresh air. Sheets - their sheets. “As Mr.Vessar knows all too well, you are -”

“Baroness of the Third House of Whitestone and Grand Mistress of the Grey Hunt,” she says as he does. Her smirk spreads ever broader with each syllable.

He chuckles. “Exactly. You are incredibly important. Very busy. Who knows - something could have come up, and we are so dreadfully sorry, have… I don’t know. Jarett. Jarett can play ambassador for a day in your stead.”

“You would need to give him a bonus.”

“The treasury can handle it.”

He holds her until the caged animal in her chest has, impossibly, grown to love the space. It feels like home, between her ribs - like he’s cradled in here, and not pressing sparse kisses to her hair.

[One for sorrow] [Ch1] [Keep reading on AO3]    

[nepherium]

now this. this is the reason writing takes so long for me.

[tiredas]

"If he wanted to, he would"

Nanami Kento: aight bet

It was an average Monday morning when you, Nanami Kento's wife, were turned into a cat.

"An unusual Curse," Shoko had said, "not longer than a week, surely--"

"Not--not longer than a week?!" Kento spluttered, his glasses lopsided, and, dangled in front of him beneath the arms (legs-- legs, he reminded himself)...you.

You, with two pointed ears, a long whippy tail, your many toe-beans and a perturbed little head-tilt. On the doctors' office couch, a neatly folded (if a little furry) pile of your clothes.

"Meow," you had said.

"Don't 'meow' me," Kento spluttered again, fixing you with a stern look that barely overlaid his concern. You simply stared up at him, long, and feline, and unblinking...and reached out one little paw, pressing it onto the end of his nose.

Kento sighed; a bone-deep, weary sigh. Shoko put out her cigarette, speaking through a haze of smoke.

"Like I said. Give it a week, and Mrs.Nyanyami will be back to nor--"

"What did you just call her?'

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Mrs.Nyanyami, the cat formerly known as Nanami Kento's wife, wanted for nothing.

"I think that tuna's more expensive than anything I've ever eaten," whispered Yuuji to Gojo. On the other side of the conference room, you sat upon the desk before Kento, waiting patiently for the next lump of tuna (meticulously cut into cat-appropriate cubes) to be delivered in his chopsticks.

As Kento's hand approached, you held it close with paw and claws, to steal the pink fish from him. He looked like a surgeon performing heart surgery.

"I just...dont know how he can look so serious while he's doing that," Gojo whispered back, to Yuuji's frantic nods. Still, they watched this freakish nature documentary with quiet obsession.

A higher-up sat down beside Kento, waiting for the meeting to begin. Jolting back, and grumbling, he did a double take.

"Young man-- you can't bring a cat to a Sorcerer's meeting--"

"That's not a cat," Kento snapped, frosty, "that's my wife."

And so began the rumour amongst the higher-ups, that Nanami Kento had gone mad.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

"You should leave her at home--"

"--absolutely not--"

"--really, Nanami...just put the television on, she'll be fine--"

"--unequivocally, no--"

"--why not?!"

Silence. An awkward shuffle on Kento's thick chest. You peeked your head out of the pocket of the cat-carrying hoodie that Kento wore over his shirt and tie, and turned to Gojo with narrowed eyes.

"Meow," you had said, batting at Kento's strings, and hooking his tie out with your paw, to kick it to death with your legs.

"I agree," said Kento, whispering and scratching you beneath the chin until you purred, "he's wrong, isn't he? Stupid Gojo. You'd get lonely. You'd get bored. Yes you would..."

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

"Oh my god...he's gorgeous...you should get his number--"

"--I'm not brave enough...you go. I'll get our coffees."

"--okay, okay..." The woman cleared her throat, sweeping her hair behind one ear with her best smile. Kento looked up from his coffee, with one finely raised eyebrow.

"Can I help you?" He lied, unwilling to help anyone at all before he'd finished his croissant.

"Hi, yeah, I just...can't help but notice you're sitting alone, and my friend-- well she-- she just wondered if she can have your number, and--"

The woman broke off into shrieks. Climbing up her leg, all claws and furry vengeance, was you. She shook her leg, shrieking. You hissed. Your cup of steamed milk clattered over the table, slopping everywhere.

"--o-oh my god-- oh my god, what the hell is this cat doi--"

"I'm sorry," Kento sighed, not sorry at all and dabbing his mouth with a napkin and doing absolutely nothing to help, "it's my cat. She doesn't like company--"

Hisses. Claws. Dirty feral yowls.

"Get this fucking thing off me--"

"I can't take you anywhere. No more steamed milk for you."

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

At times, you seemed so human. At others, undeniably cat.

Kento would wake to clattering from the kitchen, bleary and feeling around for you, only to remember, and trace his hand up to the furry, round little patch you'd leave behind on your pillow. He allowed himself just a moment of misery, before getting up.

He followed the sounds of cups and kettle and coffee machine, and leaned against the doorway with sleep-mussed hair and a squinting, teenagerish glare.

You were up on the counter, all four paws and determination. You had gotten as far as switching the kettle and coffee machine on, and heaving the cupboard open with your tiny limbs. Kento watched as you tipped your head sideways, managing to drag two mugs out in your teeth. He winced as they almost smashed upon the counter.

"Come on," Kento rumbled, his voice rusty with sleep, "let me do that."

You meowed at him, batting at the air with one angry paw when he stepped closer. Kento huffed, raising his hands in surrender.

"Fine," he tutted, "but I'll pour the water."

"Meow."

"Why? Because you don't have opposable thumbs, darling."

The fur stood up along your spine. You turned around, and around, in a circle, then sat upright. You turned your back on him while you waited for the kettle to boil. Your tail flicked from side to side, irritable. Kento waited, too, reaching out one hand to stroke your ears.

You nudged your back paw out, and pushed his mug off the side to smash on the floor.

Silence.

"...what is wrong with y--"

"Meow."

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Skitterskitterskitter.

Distant meows.

Kento groaned, rubbing down his face. He checked the clock, frog-blinking; two in the morning. He groaned harder.

Skitterskitterskitter.

Thunk.

More distant meows.

"Please just come back to bed," Kento moaned into the hands pressed over his face.

SkitterskitterskitterSKITTERSKITTER-- rustlllleerussstle--

Directly over his face.

"Meow--"

"I am begging you--"

RustlerustleTHNKskitterskitterskitter.

Distant meows.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

"I miss you."

You raised your head to look at him. Your purring hitched. Your ears tilted.

Kento had murmured, his low voice barely audible. The only light in the living room was the ever-changing light of the television screen. Laid on his back on the sofa, with you curled on his chest, Kento stroked down your back with longing.

You crept up his chest, pressing your cold wet nose to his, and purred. Nose to nose, and cross-eyed, Kento could have cried.

"I really miss you," he repeated, swallowing around the lump in his throat. Your claws dug into his chest, just a little. You rub, rub, rubbed your warm furry head along his jaw until he sniffled, and gave a choked little chuckle.

He fell asleep with you on his chest that night. In so many ways, it was familiar; home. In so many others, you were gone forever.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

"Meow."

Kento shuffled. His chest felt heavy...warm. His belly felt warm, too. And his lap, and--

Kento's eyes shot open, his head lifting up from the couch.

You bit your lip, naked on top of him, and smiling. Human. An angel.

"Oh, my love," Kento moaned, crushing you to him in a bear hug from shoulder to toes, "you're back-- I missed you, I was so worrie--"

You batted an arm out, swiping last night's wine glass from the coffee table beside you, to shatter on the floor.

Silence. Kento blinked slowly, looking from the wine glass, to you. You felt your cheeks grow hot, swallowing hard.

"God, I...sorry, Kento. Force-- force of habit--"

[electricneonvalkyrie]

As an autistic person, being even a small part of a fandom is so special to me. But I have noticed over time how toxic our communities can be.

The worst part, though? Often times, we do it to each other. Like our 💩 doesn't stink, right? Attacking each other or being petty, in a public arena where we get to hide our identities but not our words. I don't understand why we're so prone to this.

None of us are without flaws. None of us have life all figured out.

Really, we're all just a bunch of nerds who love the same thing. That should ultimately bring us closer together. Friends from all over the world who fell head over heels for the same special interest. How cool is that?

If we want online spaces to feel safer and less overstimulating... if we want our fandoms to stay alive and even grow... it starts with us.

It breaks my heart to see talented artists and writers abandon platform after platform because simply being in these spaces affects their mental health negatively.

I used to love having my asks open and interacting through my old account, but I have to maintain strict boundaries with that now. People can be cruel and more than that, people tend to feel superior as soon as they're behind a device. Forgetting entirely that we are all just looking for a place to go, where we feel like we belong.

If we collectively put some effort into being kinder, I think we'd see an uptick in the positive participation in our favourite fandoms. More fanfics to get lost in. More art to fall in love with.

So before we post something that might turn people away, or genuinely hurt someone we don't even know, we should ask ourselves if it harms our community or helps it thrive.

There are important matters we have to address and we absolutely should. But if the meanness aspect of it could leave the chat forever, that'd be great. I don't think it achieves anything in the long run.

Maybe it's wishful thinking, but... just my two cents.

P.S.

Abby is on my side with this one. God, she's so stinkin' cute when she's not crazy about murdering. 💜

[elderscrollingtheinternet]

Fanart for TheInsaneFoxWriter's FNAF fanfic, A Change in Fate.

I stinkin' loved this fic, the intense scenes are all vivid and well written. But then there's also so many sweet scenes and angst and I love it.

[skojukebox]

I've been fanfic writing for like... 2 months. Sonic is Missing is literally the first fic I ever wrote, so I have no experience whatsoever. So I have to ask - do other fanfic writers deal with the "My fic is garbage why does anyone like it" thoughts or is that just me? Don't be afraid to answer. If it's common, then I know there's nothing wrong, and I can ignore the thought as "everyone goes through this including awesome writers so it's not indication of bad writing". If it's me, then I know it's stinkin' thinkin' and I can fight it with practicing good mental health exercises.

I can't speak for literally everyone of course, but I get that nagging feeling all the time. I don't know how many times I have finished a chapter, looked back at it and gone "nobody's gonna like this shit" or "I totally failed (random section) but I need to get this out of the door." Even after a fic is finished there's the occasional nagging regret that I could have done something better.

I feel like it's just part of the creative process. The way we make things is inspired heavily by the things we consume otherwise more often than not, but that also means that you're constantly comparing yourself to those things. That's just natural; the key is to not let it become unhealthy and drag you down. The phrase "You're your harshest critic" exists for a reason, just don't give into every little thing that inner-critic says and let it become a roadblock

[vilemint]

How dare you. How DARE you do this to me. Look at her. Cheeky little thing.

Jk jk I FUCKING LOVE IT LOOK AT HER AHHHHH BABY GORL 🥺 this is the first fanart I've ever received EVER, AND IT SBEYOND PERFECT

ngl might make it cannon that her nose adopts a black spot when she gets angy it's SO cute on her in your style

Hey, don’t actually know how to post on here cause I haven’t used tumblr in the past 10 years BUT @vilemint I told you I might get inspired~

Hope you enjoy some fanart of Mavis!…probably will have some more in the coming month (I’m trying to figure out their hair situation and now I’m determined to get it right).

Also, dear GOD don’t look at my page…I need to redo it cause I haven’t been on tumblr in a hot minute and I made this account back when I was an angsty teen and a baby fangirl to boot. If you wanna see more of my stuff until I can get my profile revamped, my username is some variation of Taro_art.io on all the major platforms (trust me you’ll know which one’s mine, you can’t miss ‘em).

Anyways, hope you like the doodles! - Taro

[soapysudz]

Wait wait wait, what happens with Levi and Xavier??? How does brunch go, who moves in with who, is a spring wedding???

One minute I’m happily scrolling on tumblr and the next I’m rabidly flipping through reblogs trying to figure out if there’s a part 2 to the hallmark movie fanfic I just got conned into reading.

What have you done to me???

In true holiday spirit we shall now suffer together <3

But they're so stinkin' cute right??? Levi is head over heels and yet also in denial which is kind of adorable and sets the scene for the most amazing slowish burn idiot (s) to lovers. Levi might confess while they're walking Xavier's dog in the fall (this is mostly inspired by one time I was walking behind two people on a cold night and they looked at each other and exhaled at the same time and the vapor formed a heart in between them. Anyways. ) Xavier would be like duh (Levi is not subtle at all, poor dude lol).

I'm also picturing a scene when they're officially together and they run across their exes again. Maybe Xavier could get that guy back for punching him? Or Levi could.

Wow yeah this has overtaken my thoughts

[frostycatblr-fandom-files]

Help a gal with decision paralysis out, if you would be so kind!

No "vanilla extract/I'm bald/tell me in the tags/nuance" option for y'all. It's happening one way or another and the less options YOU guys have, the better it helps ME make one stinkin' decision.

I have one Feral Opress x Reader fic I wrote several years ago at this point, and I'd like to "repost" the fanfic to my own account. I say repost in quotes because this was a fic I submitted to another blog; I didn't understand at the time that when you do that, you don't get notified of any likes, reblogs or comments, the other person gets that interaction in their notes.

There's nothing strictly wrong with that, but I don't exactly think to check a blog I no longer interact with much anymore to see if people have given it more than 14 notes, y'know?

It's my fic, so I can do whatever the hell I want with it. And I want it on my blog. Dress it up a bit with a nice little fic banner, better formatting, and better tagging (now that I know what I'm doing)!

What I find myself stuck on is if I post the material as-is, or find the time to give the writing a glow-up after taking care of other WIPs that are higher on my priority list right now. This was my first ever SW fanfiction, and I was pretty proud of it at the time given how rusty my skills were. It's pretty clear my skills have grown a lot since then and I think I could do better if I gave it a re-write; I'm just terrible at making decisions (and sticking to them) unfortunately.

[luminousnotmatter]

@bradshawsbaby right?! The man that Bob Floyd is….😍🫠😍

Oh my goodness, Y E S, to each and every one of those adorable, loving little Post-It notes from your Bob!! 🥰💯♥️

And what about voicemails too? And texts?? Ugh, ✨swoon✨.

*beep* “Hey you…” *you can hear the warm smile in his sweet, deep voice* “…just wanted to check in, was wondering if we’re still on for meetin’ Mickey and his fiancée for trivia night later? He was askin’ me earlier so I thought I’d call since I have a minute between all the new maneuvers Mav’s havin’ us practice. Anyway. I know your week at work has been super hectic so I just wanted to check and see, make sure you’re still feeling up to it. No pressure if not, yeah? It’s every week and the invitation is open, so we can totally go another time if you’d rather stay in tonight... ‘Kay, that’s all. Let me know when you can. Love you, My Sweetheart. Have a good rest of your day, bye.” *click*

Or a text: “Wanna take Rusty ((quick Imaginer’s Note: in my mind Rusty is one of those beautiful, deeply amber-colored Golden Retrievers, whom you and Bob adopted as an anniversary gift to yourselves one of the first few years you were married. 🥹🤭🥰♥️)) to that dog-friendly beach we drove by the other day? Maybe this Sunday, after church? Think it over, Sweetheart…���⭕️❌⭕️”

He truly is The Husband We Deserve, My Sweet Sarah, and I say we should have him!!! YESTERDAY!!

You’re so welcome, Darling! All my love. 😘♥️✨

I’ve been pondering the notion of Bob calling Wifey “My Sweetheart” all day today and have been utterly ✨gooey✨ about it. 🥹🫠😭 Heading little love notes to her that way, calling her that verbally, having her saved as that in his phone contacts, you get the picture. Ugh. Does that qualify as a soft thought? I hope so. 💕💗🩷

Love you dearly, My Bee! Sorry to hear you had a rough ending to your day. 🥺🫂 Keep your head up; just one day more to get through and then you can enjoy your much-deserved, well-earned time off! ♥️♥️♥️

*sigh* That man 😍

I can totally see him leaving little Post-it notes around the house for you to find while he’s at work—one on the mirror in the bathroom that says, “My sweetheart is the most beautiful woman in the world,” one on the coffee pot that says, “A morning pick-me-up for my sweetheart,” one on the patio door that says, “Hope you enjoy the sunshine today, sweetheart.”

I love him so much and I need him in my life!

Thank you, Clara! ♥️