#Wow this is the most rewarding story to write so far so many people comment
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Prompts are closed and I shall eagerly await next time as I am once again intrigued by the winding possibilities your writing provokes and in awe over your creativity and imagination! Hope you had fun with them all!
haha thank you! but it's not over quite yet. I still have about 30 prompts to fill over the next couple of days and I adore every single one thats been sent in. it really is an amazing experience to have so much opportunity to create and weave stories that stem from other peoples thoughts.
because while i can wonder what someone is hoping for, i know i'm never going to truly meet it and so it's this... it's this bridge of risk and reward, right?
because asking for a fic is also a risk in being disappointed and i appreciate people risking that with me.
it's why i try to remember to mention that i hope the prompter will like it. because they dont have to but i am hoping they will, it's nobodies job to like and appreciate my work, even if they've asked for a prompt. and if someone doesn't get what they want, they can always ask again more specifically. or they can avoid my page or block me if i accidentally traumatize them. and since most prompters are anon, there's no risk of public awkwardness in the risk.
and also sometimes people are worried about being judged, and sometimes the fear of being judged is more terrifying that the actual circumstances of it. i've used the anon button so many times myself because i was too nervous to use otherwise. i have social and generalized and paranoid anxiety btw so i curate my experience how i need it and hope others do too
wow i don't know the last time i slept but i have to be up in two hours so i'm gonna finish this up so i can crash since i'm going so far off the path that i'm a mountain goat.
basically uh yes, it is a lot of fun for me.
and i appreciate how many people are willing to participate and engage with me. i was not expecting how many responses i got today and it was really just, it was nice and it overflowed my brain with so much worldbuilding that I was able to zone out and just enjoy writing.
and while i do love getting comments and responses to my fics, i also am okay not getting them? i mean i prefer them but i know life is just really hard right now and everyone has limited energy and i really am just enjoying myself writing.
i'm writing to heal and lots of people read to heal. i had to take a few years of reading myself to get here
but also i am just a really tired insomiac nerd who is terrified of most social interaction but if you get me talking about a special interest i am a jackalope.
and malec has been a special interest and stayed one since 2017 which is the longest i've ever stayed interested in a pairing or fandom without dropping it for a few years. so i'm always happy for meta questions, head canon questions, specific au questions etc.
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A little distraction Part 3
This was prompted by @rufina72 as well as two anons and at least one AO3 user. I have to admit I lost track on AO3 because apparently people really enjoy this story line XD Hope you do to!
Fandom: Detroit become human | Ship: Reed900, Hannor/Hancon Part 1 link not available [Part2] [Part4] [Part5] [Read complete on AO3]
‘S-s-so Connor is your brooother?’ They were driving through Detroit’s streets covered by snow slush and salt. It would be a pain to get the hardened dirt from the road off his car later, Richard thought as quiet Christmas music accompanied their drive. ‘Yes. Older by roughly five years’, he answered. ‘We’re very close.’ ‘And he w-w-will be the only one there?’ Again, Richard nodded. ‘Yeah, him and his boyfriend. Guess I have to update that to husband soon, they plan to marry as soon as legislation has caught up with recognising androids as persons in every aspect.’ ‘No other f-f-family?’ Richard frowned, face falling instinctively, before he forced himself to cheer up.
‘Nah. Our father died in a car accident. I was three years old; I don’t remember much of him but photos. Connor knew him more and always said he was a nice guy. Our mother was always at work, too absorbed in her studies. It changed a bit when father died, but still she wasn’t home much. Connor basically was the one raising me, and he blames mom for not being there for me.’ ‘And y-y-you?’ ‘Nah’, he laughed. ‘It was normal for me; I didn’t know anything else. But we both agree that me and him, we are family and she doesn’t belong in that definition. And that we’ll do it better should we ever get kids.’ Gavin nodded slowly. ‘How’s he?’ ‘Caring?’, Richard began, having to think of the right words to express what he felt when thinking of his brother. ‘Overly protective. Overly friendly. It can be annoying at times. But he is honest too and understands boundaries. He never said anything when I had my silent phases, just came to my room and did whatever he did close to me keeping me company. He seems to always know what you need right now and I think that’s his most treasurable attribute.’ ‘Hooope he knows that with meee too, not just you. Wh-wh-what I told you, I won’t tell anyooone else.’
Nines risked a look to the side to Gavin, who had ducked his head in between his shoulders and fidgeted with a button on his shirt. ‘Hey.’ He stopped at a red light and was about to touch the android comfortingly, refraining from it last second as he remembered his reaction to that. ‘Hey, if it gets too much at any point, tell me. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.’ Gavin quickly looked out of the window and nodded, obviously embarrassed.
-
They arrived at a small house draped in tasteful Christmas decoration. Not too much and in exactly the right colours to make it feel cosy, warm and welcoming. Gavin stepped out of the car watching the lights and trying not to think of how he had lifted up the kids so they could help putting them up in their old home. They were fond memories made all the more sour by his loss. He knew his LED was likely red again, alerting the strange human that had picked him up of his composure slipping, but if Richard noticed, he didn’t say anything, just walking ahead and smiling back at him as an invitation to follow him. Gavin swallowed and hastily walked through the snow to the freed path leading to the door. Nines was already standing there, hand hovering over the doorbell.
‘Richard!’ The door was almost ripped open by someone who looked exactly like the other human, maybe an inch smaller and a lot more expressive. ‘You came!’ ‘I promised, didn’t I?’ Connor hugged the other human and grinned from one ear to the other. ‘Yes of course, but still!’ Only then did he turn to Gavin, who was awkwardly standing half behind Richard and watched them. It was hard to blink away the warning popping up over and over again. Connor moving towards Richard. Threat. Warning. Richard returning his hug, the arm passing through Gavin’s personal space at that. Warning. Threat. Connor turning around. Threat. Run. Gavin didn’t know since when he was stuck in this analysis mode, but he was sick of flinching and glitching at any movement. ‘This must be your plus one?’, he asked Richard with a wink and held out a hand towards Gavin. ‘Hello, I’m Connor.’ Gavin couldn’t suppress taking a step back. ‘I-I-I’m Gaaavin’, he said, cursing his voice box for glitching now out of all times. Connor let his hand fall, but smiled at him, completely ignoring his stutter and hangers. ‘Hello Gavin, nice to meet you! Merry Christmas! Come in, you two! Hank’s getting out the food already!’
They followed Connor in and got rid of their shoes, before entering the living room. Connor instructed them to sit down and hurried into the kitchen to help Hank. When the larger android came to greet them, Gavin dared to relax a bit. He was deviant too, sending a friendly greeting ping to him. He looked gentle, trusting and didn’t have any marks on him. Hank put down plates for Connor and Richard, while Connor came back with two mugs of warmed Thirium for the androids as well as blue tinged cookies. ‘Can you eat?’, Hank asked him then. ‘You are an older model, right?’ Gavin nodded. ‘I am. B-b-but I caaan eat. I g-g-got the upgrade when Kathy- I got the upgrade.’ Hank lifted a brow at the errors and swallowed sentence, but otherwise didn’t mention it. ‘Then I hope they taste, Connor made them. He has no talent.’ ‘Excuse me?’, the human answered, elbowing Hank. Gavin expected damage, but it was a friendly gesture. ‘I can cook great.’ ‘Yeah’, Hank countered. ‘If you count heating up frozen pizza.’ ‘Hey, that’s all I can do, too, so I’ll side with Connor here’, Richard laughed. ‘What’s your verdict, Gavin?’
He looked into the other’s faces, still overwhelmed by it all. Instead of answering, he took one of the cookies and nibbled on the edge. He hadn’t really eaten much since he had gotten the upgrade and his tank didn’t allow for more than one meal anyways. It tasted… sweet. The texture was interestingly grainy and gave in to force easily. Not able to stand being stared at any longer, he just shrugged and said: ‘It tastes good?’ ‘See!’, Connor grinned. ‘Gavin likes it. I can’t be that bad then!’ ‘Or your recipe was good.’ ‘Or he did something wrong and accidentally saved otherwise horrible cookies.’ Connor crossed his arms. ‘Oh, shut up, Nines, try baking something you can’t even try because it’s literal poison for you!’ Richard laughed, and it eased the mood into simpler waters.
They continued talking for a while exchanging about what they had been up to lately. Gavin listened, but was content not to be involved at all, eating the cookies Connor had prepared. He actually liked them a lot and it was quite relaxing to just munch away on them. ‘And? How did you two get to know each other?’ He froze, sharing a look with Richard. ‘Errr…’ ‘Do you know that red light at the corner of that mattress store?’ Connor frowned, then nodded. ‘Yeah, you have to wait ages until you can drive on.’ ‘Somehow timing was perfect, and we saw each other every day when my shift ended.’ He looked over to Gavin and he nodded, thanking him inwardly to not tell them his whole life story. ‘Today I decided to talk to him.’ Connor looked over to Gavin disbelievingly. ‘My brother spoke to you first?’ Gavin huffed. ‘Y-Yes, he did. I-I-I lost my family because of the revolution. Had nowhere to go. He invited me to come with him.’ ‘So you really aren’t more than strangers’, Hank asked. ‘Kind of?’, Gavin shrugged. ‘But Richard seeeems like a nice g-g-guy and I don’t have m-m-much to lose.’ Connor swallowed. ‘I’m sorry to hear that’, he said. ‘You are welcome here any day if you need a place to stay.’ The android ducked his head, blushing. ‘Richard offered that already and I agreed to try it out.’ That shifted their attention towards the man completely.
‘Nines, are you ill? Initiating conversation, bringing someone for dinner and inviting them into your home?’ ‘Fuck off, Connor, seriously. Call it a Christmas miracle.’ Connor shook his head. ‘Would be one hell of one.’ Richard threw him a look and laughed. ‘Connor, just because it’s rare it doesn’t mean it never happens.’ ‘It was awkwaaard as hell too’, Gavin added carefully. ‘Have to admit I thought he was some sort of weirdo first.’ Connor smiled as Nines rested his hand on his arm. ‘Okay, that sounds more like my brother.’
‘Really? A weirdo?’, Richard asked Gavin. ‘I thought aaaaafter our last talk you appreciated h-h-honesty.’ ‘Yeah, okay, but you don’t just tell someone they are a weirdo.’ ‘It’s the truth.’ Richard sighed. ‘I don’t think you are oooone now th-th-th-though’, he added. ‘Thanks, at least there’s that then…’ Richard looked up at Connor. ‘What?’
The other human was grinning at them both and tried to hide it badly. ‘I’m happy, Nines. Really. I’m glad you both are here today. Come on, let’s watch a movie and then presents!’
-
The longer they spent at Connor’s house, the more at ease Gavin felt. No one asked him about his past or why he was malfunctioning all over. It surely was a question that burned in their minds, he could feel it, but they consciously didn’t question him. He was just being accepted as a part of their Christmas celebration as if he hadn’t just been picked up from some scrapyard and put into nice clothing. It felt like he… Like he had been here last year and the year before. Almost like… like he belonged. Like a family. He just had to reach out a hand and take the chance Richard had offered him and all of this would turn from pretend to reality. It was weird thinking about it, especially when every connection to the word family brought up memories of loss and grief about old happiness.
But was it wrong to want this again? To wish for another chance at building new memories? He looked at Richard from the corner of his eyes. The man was completely fixed on the TV in front of them, body relaxed and close to him but far away enough not to impose or cause stress. Gavin swallowed and looked over to Connor and Hank on the other couch under a blanket lying close, Hank holding the human and caressing his hair. He could have this again. This casual comfort, these caring touches, this feeling of safety and belonging. The home he had lost and tried to build for himself in that scrapyard could be his again, if he just allowed to let it happen.
He swallowed and pressed his eyes close to block out the warnings of threat, warning, run, danger. Then he scooted over slowly until he hit Richards warm ribcage. He felt the other shift around his frozen body, then an arm was draped around his shoulders carefully. ‘This too much?’, Nines whispered near inaudibly over the movie running and Gavin shook his head. No, he wanted this, he just had to get over his own barriers. A few minutes later, he tried opening his eyes again and was surprised his systems weren’t bombarding him with errors. Instead, his status box read safe and Richard’s body was marked as friend/ally. Gavin sighed deeply, dropping into the carefree touch completely.
When Richard dared to look down the next time, the android in his arm was smiling just the slightest and his LED was circling somewhere between blue and yellow – the calmest he had seen Gavin so far. By the end of the movie, Gavin wasn’t moving anymore, the LED pulsing slowly. Nines looked over at Hank questioningly and the android nodded. ‘He’s in stasis now.’ ‘Wow’ Richard said with raised brows, looking down on the sleeping android. Connor sat up and threw them their blanket. ‘You can stay the night if you want. Guess I have to call you Tens now’, he joked. Nines huffed and answered deadpan: ‘Do that and I’ll stop talking to you to go back to Nines.’
[>next part]
#detroit become human#dbh#Reed900#RK900#Gavin Reed#dbh reverse AU#human RK900#android Gavin Reed#Hannor#Hancon#Hank Anderson#Connor dbh#RK800#android Hank Anderson#human Connor#Wow this is the most rewarding story to write so far so many people comment#if it continues like this this will surpass my main projects XD#nevermind already did if I count in tumblr comments#I'm really happy you like this story so much because I certainly love it#I have a soft spot for reverse AUs and even more so for damaged but badass android Gavin
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do you have any recommendations on being a better fic writer? I’ve written some that I think are great! but they don’t get the same notes as other fic writers :/ I LOVE your work and wanted some advice from someone who writes so beautifully. 💕
This question makes me so sad.
First of all, wow, wowee, thank you so much!! That’s so lovely of you to say, thank you. 💖
As for any recommendations or advice I have, I’m afraid to say I don’t really have any.
Writing and art in general is so subjective and wonderfully nuanced that any advice I could give, someone else may look at and think what the heck, or it just wouldn’t work for them. When writing we all have our own, unique voices, that’s what makes reading so fun; discovering new authors and their take on things. I’ve read stories that have thousands of notes and rave reviews, and they haven't really resonated with me, but other people have clearly loved, and I’m sure some people read my work after someone else has recommended/reblogged it and thought nah, not for me. Try not to get too caught up on what makes a ‘good’ writer, because there is no one-size-fits-all. Write with your own voice, how it comes naturally. The world always, always needs new, different voices.
And I know it’s easier said than done, believe me, I still struggle with it, but please try not to focus on how many notes your stories are getting. Engagement is down across the whole of Tumblr, and it’s incredibly shitty. Not to be completely shaking my fist and muttering back in my day, but a couple of years ago, engagement was so much higher, which made writing so much more rewarding and fun and exciting. (I mean this in terms of reblogs and comments, whereas now people just ‘like’ a story and that’s it, which doesn’t say or mean a lot to me, personally.)
Unfortunately now, too, you have to tag things the right way and make sure your work actually shows up in the tags. Far too many times I’ve checked about an hour after posting and my work just isn’t there, and in this age of content overload, that can sometimes mean missing the perfect window to find an audience because people are already refreshing the tag and looking at what’s most recent.
I know this may not have been what you wanted to hear and I’m sorry for that, but please keep writing if it makes you happy, that’s all that matters. If you keep doing you and writing what you love, then the right readers will respond to it and it’ll be all the more rewarding.
If you’re happy to tag me in any upcoming stories you have, please do so! I hope you’re having a lovely Sunday 💖
#ask#anon#please reblog people's work#it makes me so sad that people think their work isn't good because of lack of notes#if you don't engage with or reblog people's work then they will stop posting it#i could also do a whole post on supply and demand with regards to tumblr these days
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WHY is fanfiction not the appropriate venue for your political or social battle?
We can all agree, I posit, that there are changes that need to be made in the world (racism, for example; patriarchal inequalities; rape culture; capitalism; plug in your personal cause here).
We can all ALSO agree, I think, that the way culture, media, etc. portray things influences a consumer on an unconscious level.
We can agree that, in real life, certain things are clearly bad: abuse of others, non-consensual sex, systemic inequality, I can go on….
So. Let me feel my way through this. I, personally, feel like fanfiction (specifically on AO3, since that’s where I encounter it) is NOT an appropriate battleground for enforcing cultural change by:
Leaving comments about how someone’s work is (in your, the commenter’s, opinion) wrong, damaging, unfair, insensitive, etc.
Telling the writer they should change this or that.
Telling the writer they must add or delete tags.
Broadcasting your opinion of the writer’s egregiousness outside AO3 (twitter, for example, or here on tumblr).
Organizing a campaign of harassment against the author if they don’t change to suit your personal requirements.
First of all:
Be the change you want to see.
Fanfiction, unlike any other media out there, is INDIVIDUAL. It is one work, from one single person – voluntary and unpaid. You yourself are one single person. You can have as much influence as this writer. Write the works you want to read, instead of demanding that the writer change to suit you. This is how romance novels changed from non-con, non-condom-wearing, shudderingly unequal stories in the 70s and 80s to where they are now, for example. New people started writing stories, and eventually established authors started changing, too (or dwindled away).
Remember that you know nothing about the author.
You don’t know their culture, their skin color, their age, their gender. You don’t know their socioeconomic status or how much free time they have. You don’t know their current mental or physical conditions. You don’t know any of the things going on in their life. AND. You are not entitled to know these things. When you lash out at an author for not doing research, for not editing, for… anything at all… you cannot assume that they’re not fourteen, not suicidal, not a native speaker, not disabled such that writing a single paragraph is a tremendous effort. You don’t know they’re not in an abusive situation, or economic peril. You do not have the right to tell them to change. Whether you are asking them to change text, tone, tagging, ships, plot, you name it. Anything.
Dead Dove: Do Not Eat.
Don’t like, don’t read. These are simple concepts, and the tagging system on AO3 helps you to avoid many triggers. Simple common sense, once you're into a story that’s raising your hackles, will warn you away from the rest. If you say, ‘no, this person can’t write that, it’s contributing to pain in the Real World’ then you are functioning as a censor. I mean, at its most basic level, a censor is someone who strikes out passages in books or other media because it’s… immoral/bad/etc. The problem is that morality is incredibly tailored to the group you’re in, and also incredibly fluid, shifting over time. So… why do YOU get to be the censor and not the author? What makes YOU the final word? Seriously, think about it.
Fanfiction writers are the most vulnerable group you could target.
Which makes them easy prey, and possibly makes them the juiciest and most satisfying targets. Address your anger to Hollywood or Simon & Schuster or Congress – and your voice will doubtless get lost in the shuffle. Address it to an author on AO3 and you can deliver your blow personally, one on one, and witness the damage. There is no professional buffer between your resentment and their reaction.
Who are fanfiction writers? Overwhelmingly women, overwhelmingly queer, often very young and inexperienced. Wow. What a rewarding group to start slapping around. You wouldn't be the only one to think so. Seriously. Aim your anger at someone who is STRONGER than you. Not someone who is (likely) weaker than you. You’re kicking a kitten, while a lion lounges behind you.
Censoring someone’s thoughts is bad.
People should be allowed to THINK. And they can think whatever they want. Whether and where and how it should be expressed is another matter. AO3 is a safe place for whatever weird-ass thoughts you have. It is expressly written into their mission statement. AO3 was SPECIFICALLY DESIGNED so that authors could have a place for their dead dove fics.
So. Why is [your pet cause] okay on AO3 and not on a script in Hollywood?
AO3 requires membership before you can post anything, so it’s arguably private. AO3 provides tools for readers to avoid works they might find triggering. AO3 profits no one. Follow the money, and there are your true culprits. Not a housewife from Hoebokken.
Fanfiction writers make no money. When they write, they are not lawmakers, filmmakers, teachers or preachers. This is not their job. They do not have a responsibility to the community, because they are vested with no power and no paycheck. Please move your battlefield to one of these other venues. Your fight will be harder, but it will also do a lot more good than traumatizing some naive kid away from writing forever.
Fanfiction comprises an individual’s personal thoughts and personal works, written for their own enjoyment, shared only through AO3 to (presumably) like-minded readers. Fanfics are a person’s fantasies and daydreams. They might be an author’s therapeutic exercise. Or someone trying to explore something new, whether it be cultures, ideas, sexualities or kinks. Humans need a place where they can be wrong and make mistakes. Think about that, I implore you. If you are constantly pointing out someone’s errors, you may eventually either silence them forever, or instill in them permanent resentment. This does not further your cause.
You have your personal cause.
I’ve seen a lot of them. Incest is bad, you’re not allowed to write about it. Pedophilia is bad, you’re not allowed to write about it. Abusive relationships are bad, you’re not allowed to write about them. Racism is bad, you’re not allowed to write about it. Genderswap is transphobic, you’re not allowed to write about it. A/B/O romanticizes damaging gender inequalities. There are many. If every single one of you got to stamp out your personal crusade, then fic would be scant on the ground and many people wouldn’t try to create anymore. It’s stifling to creativity and terrifying to an author that they might slip up and be called out. No one, as far as I know, likes to think of their fanfiction as something that will be turned in for a grade.
Your standards are your own.
What are the precise parameters of an abusive relationship? Transphobia? Racism? Pedophilia? Fetishism? Where does dub-con become non-con? No one is the mouthpiece for the whole world. You are only the mouthpiece for yourself.
If you think to yourself that it’s not okay to tell someone they can’t write about, say, a gay relationship, but it IS okay to tell them they can’t write about a certain ship or dynamic (for Reasons), then maybe you should step back and check yourself and your entitlement to someone else’s endeavor.
In conclusion:
I’m not saying that racism doesn’t exist in fanfiction. Or creepy sexual abuse, or glorification of harmful dynamics. It certainly does. I’m not trying to play semantics with you.
But when you see these things, when they bother you... back right out.
That’s it. Just back out, ignore it and find a different fic. (Or better yet, write your own!) Shower the fics you approve of with love and comments about why you think they’re great. Give them kudos and bookmarks and shout-outs on your blog. Eventually, if your opinion is popular, authors who thought otherwise will realize that readership is looking for something different. They’ll change or they won’t, but the body of work will change over time, and THAT is what you’re looking to accomplish. Not to stamp out fanfiction altogether.
#mojo muses#fandom wank#censorship#social justice#fanfiction#fandom#I am not disputing the validity of your opinion on Thing#I am disputing your right to push it on a fic author#these are two separate things#cancel culture#antis
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I need to gush about Honor Bound for a bit, I apologize for how long this might get, but I figured it can’t be too wrong to show gratitude for something you hold dear! I found Honor Bound through the “Bleeding through the Bandages” chapter in book 4. I got into whump around that time, mainly as a coping mechanism for my own pain, and I saw that chapter pop up on my dashboard and I didn’t really consider it was part of a bigger story and I needed a distraction so I was like, might as well. And then it ended up being the best depiction of what I was feeling that I’ve ever read; not just the pain, but the frustration, and the exhaustion, and the mind-numbing boredom shown in other chapters too. I read the previous chapters of book 4 and then decided I wanted Context and also More Sam and then I read the first three books in two days. And then I reread them all in one day because I needed to reprocess the journey that was. And then I reread all of them again with book 4 when it finished, and then religiously followed book 5 through the worst time I’ve ever had, and reread the previous books multiple times as 5 was updating as well. Needless to say it quickly became my comfort series, and on multiple occasions waiting for a new chapters was one of those little joys that kept me going. I am so, so thankful I found it when I did. The Honor Bound family is like no other found family, at least to me. All of them are such complex individuals, but their interpersonal relationships are just so deep and meaningful and each is so incredibly unique, I could honestly write essays upon essays analyzing each one. And the way you connect everything and weave tropes into the overarching plot is just Insane, it’s truly like you’re… retelling a story that actually happened, you know? Like these are real people and real stories. Because I can’t com prehend how you come up with some of this stuff. And there are so, so many “cinematic” moments that are just. So raw and hard-hitting and just stay with you. Big and small moments alike. The Ryan reveal, Joseph Stormbeck’s death (best death scene ever by the way?? I’ve told everyone I know about it when I read it I was absolutely in Awe. Never recovering from that), every moment between Sam and Isaac (I also have a sibling who I’m not technically related to by blood but would like, probably die for, so I just really appreciated everything about them and we need more stories like theirs) (and also every time Sam called Isaac out. Good for them), Sam talking Gavin through his caning holy shit that was a religious moment, Gray’s slowburn adoption of Gavin and when Gavin decided he wanted to be a Uriah (and how his initial thought to getting asked what he wants to be called was “Moore”. And then he was like “Well fuck.” Love that dumbass), just every single thing Finn ever did for the family, Finn and Ellis and Gavin’s monologue about giving Finn a concussion (!! chills!!) and their reunion after Coleen, Vera and Tori and the Work Song scene??, Vera and Tori lowkey adopting Edrissa and Edrissa’s character development and her rants about pretty things and her and Sam and Zachariah’s adorable Young Love that made me so giddy right along with them and Sam and Zachariah’s meet-ugly (I mean it was kinda sweet), Gray being the parental figure we all needed, and Nata and Zelda and Nata helping Sam (and now Gavin!!) and Vera being so proud of her puppy. Also, Isaac and Gavin’s relationship…Insane. The most dramatic enemies to lovers and I love them for it. Invented love. It’s so crazy to read the beginning and see how far everyone’s come and think about everything that has happened from that one Whumptober prompt. It’s a lot but it also makes so, so much sense. I can’t imagine a version where Isaac and Gavin aren’t together in some way (and since I started out of order, when I realized it was a enemies to lovers I was really excited to see how all of that happened. Especially after reading the first book, because it (1/2)
(2/2) was like, how the hell are they gonna get from point A to point B. No way those are the same characters, how is this ever going to get justified? And then Gavin ended up having the best character development Ever, and I love that, I love that he had to work for it and that we as the readers have to work to love him too, because it pays off). And now the ending of book 5! Oh God. On that note, you’re so good at writing villains; making them human and also absolutely detestable and killing them off in the most satisfactory way tailored to them. There was never a point after a major arc where I thought “oh, I wish this had happened instead of x, I wish this had gone this way instead”. Also, to go back on the topic of pain (physical and mental both)! The way everyone copes with it differently, it’s the same thing but it’s unique to the person dealing with it and that’s so clear in your characters, and I also love, love how you made a point of showing how pain changes people because that’s something that I find so often gets ignored, whether voluntarily or not, even in whump. But, yeah, pain definitely changes people. And that’s not always bad, and it’s not always drastic, but it happens and it’s not a shameful thing. Everyone breaks. And HB made me believe that I was allowed to break, and that it’s still possible to live a life you think is worth it. And I won’t even get into how much it’d taught me about friendship and family and how it made me reflect on my own relationships with my loved ones (especially Isaac’s perspective, oh God). It’s just such a rewarding journey. That’s the best word to describe it, I think. And this latest chapter: “The sun shone brightly on the hood of the car, so bright Isaac almost had to close his eyes. The wind moved through the trees that swayed on either side of the lane. Isaac rolled his window down, and he could hear the birds calling to each other, and the sound of the wind rustling the long grasses that smelled so green. With each heartbeat, Gavin relaxed in his arms, his head falling against Isaac’s shoulder, his breaths becoming deep and slow again. A tear rolled down Isaac’s cheek, and he hid his smile against Gavin’s hair.” That image. It’s so vivid and visceral. It gives me the exact same feeling as spring after a long winter (which is…super fitting, actually). It’s that moment of pure contentedness when you realize it’d all been worth it. I don’t know, it just really, really struck me, and I’m so glad the book ended on that note. Despite knowing more hurt awaits, even that feels okay, because happiness will always find a way to seep through. And God, do they deserve that! It’s gonna be heartbreaking when their story ends, but I also know it’s gonna feel right. Like a peaceful retirement. Just, thank you for sharing this world with us, Athena. I hope you’re aware how meaningful this story is to so many of us. And being able to follow it in real-time and hear your inputs and chat about the characters and scream in the comments and reblogs is such a privilege (and being able to read it for free at all? Five books (six counting Vera)! For free! Though I will be getting books 1 and 2 soon hopefully actually). I cannot wait for book 6 and I Will be crying about book 5 until then (and long afterwards, most likely). And I wish you all the best in everything you take on next.<3
Wow, I... wow. I had to set down my phone and just sit in silence after I read this. I’m just... so humbled and amazed that you were able to connect so much with the story and the characters. I’m so glad that you saw something of yourself, and that you were able to find comfort in it. I find comfort in them, too, just knowing that the characters are there when I need to write them.
It’s important to me for things to turn out ‘right.’ That’s part of why I write whump: the bad guys can be defeated, the good guys emerge safe, and love prevails. Writing Isaac and Gavin’s love story was absolutely the biggest surprise for me, it really did feel like I was the last to know. But I treasure them both so much and I love writing them. The family is so fun to explore, with each relationship being so different from the other. I’ve poured so much of myself into this story and into every single one of the characters.
Book 6 is going to be such a challenge. It’s the last book in the series, and the one that’ll (hopefully) tie everything together. I’m giving myself a little break, but I’m also a little scared to start it because once I start it, then each chapter will be closer to the end, and then it’ll be over. I have a few more things in store for the family but at the end, I hope they’re safe, happy, and together. These characters mean more to me than I can say and I’m so happy I’ll have you with me along the way.
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how’d u get into writing? like, writing fic and being part of the silm community, being Known, that stuff? i’m really new to being a silm cc and i’d love to know ur advice! also: how’d u build up the confidence to start posting meta/hcs? bc i have a Lot of hcs and meta ideas but also i’m really anxious abt posting them bc yknow anxiety is like that
these are some great questions, anon! I’m gonna go through them one by one :)
how’d u get into writing?
not to be like, super cliche, but I’ve...kind of always been a writer? as long as I can remember I’ve been telling stories, and when I was too young to read or write I would dictate them to my mom, who would type them up for me and help me choose clipart illustrations to accompany them. when I got old enough I would always be writing; I attempted my first novel at age 9, and while that never really went anywhere I did finish the darn thing and it had some pretty sophisticated plot twists for a 9-year-old!
like, writing fic
around the same time I got into fandom! I was deep into Warrior cats (like. really deep) and I believe I started writing my first fics when I was like? 10 or 11? my memory is kind of fuzzy on the order of things, but I know I got an account on the Warriors forums when I was 9, and that I was already posting my fic there when I made my FFN account. I believe I was 12 when that happened, but who knows. I haven’t the faintest idea of what happened with those forums, but uhhh pretty much all of my Warriors fic is still up on FFN lmao. you could probably find that if you want to but um...maybe don’t?
my first Big Fic was a self-insert of...my entire 5th/6th grade class into the then-current timeline of the Warriors books...well. I honestly think that might still be my most popular fic of all time l m a o though I try not to think about it because Hashtag Cringe. though as much as I look back on that time with a “yikes,” I am very grateful for the Warriors fandom in a way? that place was so accepting and encouraging of OCs, of AUs, of completely disregarding canon, of worldbuilding that is completely alien from canon - it was a fantastic sandbox to begin with, there were so many ways to write stories and practically all of them were accepted and had fellow fans invested in them!
and being part of the silm community,
soooo I wrote Warriors fic until my freshman year of high school (wow sdjfhkdsjfh), which was when BOTFA came out, and I was absolutely wrecked by the ending and immediately started writing my own fixit fic. I was also super hooked on Kiliel! so that was my intro to the Tolkien fandom; and simultaneously, I joined tumblr, and, well, the rest is history tbh.
I honestly do not remember when I first read the Silm, but I kind of got into the more obscure parts of the Tolkien fandom through fandom osmosis, and I do have a vague memory of doodling the Finwean family tree in geometry class so it might have been later on in freshman year? that was also the same time I was having my Queer Awakening, and Russingon definitely contributed to me unlearning my internalized queerphobia, so probably around then.
anyway - queer awakening, tumblr, Tolkien, transitioning from FFN to AO3 - all of that was happening around the same time. I know I dipped my toes in the Silm fandom then, but I was still primarily a Hobbit fic writer focusing on Kiliel. toward the end of high school I kind of shifted to LOTR and (qp) Gigolas...but somehow the Silm fandom is the most active of the Big Three within the Tolkien fandom, and I was getting dragged further and further in.
it wasn’t until @backtomiddleearthmonth 2019, my freshman year of college, that I really dove into writing Silm fic! I picked some Silm-specific bingo cards and never looked back :D that was really not all that long ago but I am obsessed in a way I don’t really remember being even with TH/LOTR, I obviously cannot see the future but I anticipate hanging out here for a long time. the Silm fandom is great overall and there’s just so much material to work with!! <3
being Known, that stuff?
so I don’t really have a whole lot of context on how “well known” I am in the fandom?? definitely within the past year and a half or so I’ve noticed that I like, get asks like this, and get a significant amount of notes on my posts, and I’ve made a lot of fandom friends especially since I joined some Silm servers on Discord (hmu if you want invites; I’m on the SWG server and 2 general Silm servers and the Russingon server) this past year. and I have 3,000 followers as of this month - and while ever since I hit 1k I don’t particularly pay attention to my follower count I can definitely say that I have more engagement now than I used to! but it took me a long time to build this “audience,” I suppose; I’ve been around the Tolkien fandom since late 2014, so nearly 6 years of this, lol.
really the best way to build a following, in my experience, is to just post a lot of stuff. when I started making edits I got a lot more engagement, because for a long time I would post one every day! (I made them in batches and queued them; I didn’t actually make one every day lol...and now I’m too busy to do that, so I just make edits for events and whenever I feel like it) And I have [checks ao3] 145 works in the Silm fandom as of today - I’m fairly prolific! I’ve come to generally expect 3-10 comments on most of my oneshots, which is a lot more than I used to have back in the day. consistency and quantity are more likely to attract people to your work - and quality, of course.
also: how’d u build up the confidence to start posting meta/hcs?
I’ve been writing since I was very young, and I’ve been writing fic for like...11 years? I think? in that time I’ve produced a lot of garbage, but imo most of that was in my Warrior cats phase, so I came into the Tolkien fandom with confidence in myself and my writing. I’m also working on original fiction on the side (I hope to eventually become a published fantasy author, but right now school takes up most of my time that I don’t devote to fandom, which gives me more immediate gratification and also is just Very Fun) and I know I’m a good writer.
basically, I’ve been doing this for like...half my life, and I’m still fairly young, so I’ve had time to build up my skill and confidence and I know I’m only going to get better with time. you will get better with practice. like I said, I’ve written a lot of terrible stuff, and it’s only through sucking for a long time that I’ve gotten to the point I am now. and I am far from perfect; I know I still have lots of room to grow!
for meta and headcanons specifically, I started with writing fic, and then when I didn’t think I could stretch something into an entire fic I would just make a hc post. I have a vivid memory of writing my first meta in a notebook during driver’s ed because it was so goddamn boring and I had Thoughts about Tauriel and Thranduil!
in my experience, meta comes from having Opinions and wanting to share them and most importantly to back them up - you need to have sources! you need to have reasons! you need to have justification! otherwise it’s not meta, it’s a headcanon or an AU. which is fine!! I love hc/AU!!! but they are not the same as meta, and I’m a stickler for being accurate when it comes to meta. if you have sources and shit to back you up, that will help you build the confidence to share your meta.
sharing disinformation and passing it off as meta instead of just coming out and saying this is a headcanon/baseless theory/AU or whatever is such a fandom pet peeve of mine; it’s not bad for something to not be Accurate! you just have to have that disclaimer - and even when you’re writing meta, you’re offering an interpretation of the text, and you need to acknowledge that other interpretations also exist and are valid.
um. I hope this answers your questions? and sorry for basically word-vomiting my entire life story, lol. this post got long; the main reason I’ve written so much fic is because I really just cannot shut up for the life of me. sooo if you can tear of that filter of being shy and just. say shit. you can go so far~!
OH and one more thing - I can’t believe I almost forgot this - but part of being a writer is participating in the community. this is code for LEAVE A DAMN COMMENT IF YOU LIKE A FIC. that’s how I made most of my fandom friends before Discord! I follow @ao3feed-silmarillion and stalk that blog for new Silm fics; I read the ones that interest me and comment on them.
I know this is not really the most common way for folks to find fic but it’s so rewarding to interact with new fic, new writers, new commentors, new stories - you can find gems that don’t rise to the top of the kudos/bookmark lists; you become friends with your fellow writers; you can watch people grow and change; you support smaller content creators. yeah, you might not be getting Just The Best Stuff, but it’s so so so worth it!!
and if you make friends in the comment section of other people’s fic - I guarantee you some of them will go to your AO3 profile and check out your fic, too! and they’ll leave comments! this is a fic community, and that’s what I cherish about fandom most of all, tbh.
anyway - again - sorry for rambling so much, but I hoped this helped! feel free to send in another ask, or to come talk to me off anon if you’d like! and definitely send me your stuff if/when you decide to share it; I would love to support you!!! <3
#silm#silm fandom#silmarillion#fan culture#tmi anna#(for real this time sjdfhdkfh)#tefain nin#long post#anon#answers
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I don’t really have a platform or any sort of public voice, I know. But there’s something that I want to talk about anyways because it’s really important to me and if even one person understands it or even sees it and keeps it at the back of their mind, it would make a difference in my opinion.
I want to talk about one of my best friends’ dads, Dr Hasan Gokal. You may have seen him all over the news, labeled “thief” by our lovely sensationalist media. I was really hesitant if I want to include him being my friend’s dad because I know it adds an element of bias to my argument. But I think it adds another perspective, another angle that the media can’t cover- I’m far enough that I have no obligation or pressure to go out of my way to support his cause. I’m close enough that I truly do see his side of it- the whole story unfold from before it ever hit the media: the struggle, the confusion, the misunderstanding and the pain that family is going through. My point is- I wouldn’t be writing this unless I truly believed him to be innocent.
Dr Hasan Gokal is accused of stealing vaccines. But he didn’t. Not really. He used up the remaining doses that were about to expire because he was ordered from higher ups to simply ‘find arms’ and use them all up because there was a shortage and we couldn’t afford to waste any. He filed all the appropriate paperwork, he asked permission from the highest higher-up available at the time. The word stealing implies the worst image: someone breaking in and stashing them in their bag and running. Which I know, is a technicality and it might technically be ‘stealing’ legally- but the way the media took that phrase and ran with it is extremely harmful to someone’s career. It is slander and deceitful, fueled by the media’s obsession with sensationalizing and demonizing people of color, especially Muslims. Especially someone who did something heroic and brave where he absolutely didn’t have to.
Dr Gokal was looking at the bigger picture, what truly mattered at that time, which was saving as many lives as possible as fast as possible. Each of those vials in his hands could have been someone’s life. Every arm out there was another person who could have caused another chain of infection. How could he bear to toss them in the trash? And I know- I know very well that protocol is important. The government, the healthcare system, they claim to take care of the bigger picture, “just do what we tell you, don’t think too much, too hard”
And I also know if everyone applied their own morals and ethics and ignored the system in place, there would be chaos. But in healthcare, you have to admit that there is a clear, clear grey area for unexpected situations such as these. These are unprecedented times, times with barely any frame of reference to look back on. All the protocol, all the rules, seem hastily made and vague and self contradicting. There’s orders from superiors to “find arms, waste nothing” And there’s orders from superiors saying to waste nine out of ten vaccines. Which are you supposed to follow? Dr Gokal was in an extremely grey area, and he made the best judgement call he possibly could have, given his time limit and his situation. He literally called and reported it to his superiors and filed all the necessary paperwork the next day. A ‘thief’ or anyone who believed what they did was wrong would not have done that.
Legality should not determine morality- wildly inhumane things were once determined legal by our country such as literal slavery.
This is not to say abandon all sense of propriety and do what your heart says- but I think Dr Gokal did an excellent job of balancing legality and morality. He did what he believed was right despite it being unconventional AND he followed all protocol- asking permission first as well as filing it in immediately after.
Admittedly, it may have been not the smartest thing to remove the vaccines from the site and administer them at people’s houses. Even so, it’s something that could have been cleared up with a fine or strict warnings. A court case and firing is very extreme for someone who was only going above and beyond to only do what the government and the hospitals were encouraging in the first place, to not waste.
Some aspect of racism definitely applies here, especially with the comment about “too many Indian names” brought up in court. The only reason he vaccinated many people from his cultural community was simply because they were the first ones he could reach. He called as many people as possible, his only goal was to just find arms. This would not have been brought up at all if the doctor were white and he vaccinated his friends Debby and Charles and Linda and Bob. No one would’ve raised an eyebrow and said ���wow an awful lot of white people you vaccinated there.”
Well obviously? Maybe he was white and he knew many white people or lived in a white area? The sad truth is, that if it were a white man, he would be celebrated as a hero, not a criminal.
The racist comments I’ve seen are literally insane. I’ve seen people say Dr Gokal must be mailing vaccines to middle eastern terrorists- Please what?? I believe all logic goes out the window when some Americans see someone a few shades darker than themselves.
The biggest argument I’ve seen by far is- it’s not fair. But. How? These vaccines were being trashed. Wasted. They were not going to someone who could’ve deserved them more. They were being crushed when they were most needed, most precious. And most importantly- every person who got that vaccine was one hundred percent eligible. As in, if Dr Gokal hadn’t given his friends and family the about-to-be-trashed vaccines, they’d be in line within that next week anyways, consuming another entire set of vials. He could’ve gotten his people fresh new ones, but he didn’t because he felt it would be a waste of resources when there was already such short supply. This man prioritized you all’s health over his own family and community’s. He gave his people, his ‘inDiaN nAmEs’ the almost expired ones so there would be enough for the rest of the city. For all of you.
For every person he vaccinated that night, there opened up an empty spot in line the next day. A spot for your grandmother maybe, for your sick child maybe.
Someone could be alive today from his actions.
Dr Gokal helped conserve vaccines and he’s being labeled a thief. This is how our country rewards heroes. This is what our healthcare system prioritizes- petty legal formalities above human life. In a time when people are dying left and right, this is what they chose to focus their attention on. Hunting down a man who went above and beyond with zero regard for himself or his own gain and blasting him on social media and news as a criminal.
I’ve seen what it’s been doing to their family. They are so so tired of the stress, of the pressure. They don’t deserve this.
He is not a vaccine stealer. He is not some strange man from another country. He is American, just like all of you out there. He texts his daughter to please study and he plays hide-and-seek with Mikey the cat and he fixes our bikes when they break. He did the right thing and our blasted system is making him pay for it because we are so caught up in the details we hardly know right from wrong anymore. We are willing to let people die- as long as all the precious paperwork is filed, as long as our maze of systems remain perfectly in place.
Justice for Dr Hasan Gokal because he did what no one else could- care for his people. And maybe if our country cared half as much as he did, billions of people wouldn’t be dead today.
Please please sign this to help his cause
https://www.change.org/p/harris-county-district-attorney-kim-ogg-the-prosecution-of-dr-gokal-is-unjust-and-da-kim-ogg-should-stop-his-prosecution?utm_content=cl_sharecopy_27323511_en-US%3A4&recruiter=826836508&recruited_by_id=6d273550-c08c-11e7-8bf0-510c1cf8213e&utm_source=share_petition&utm_medium=copylink&utm_campaign=psf_combo_share_initial
For the full story of what actually happened that night in detail:
https://www.nytimes.com/2021/02/10/us/houston-doctor-fired-covid-vaccine.html
Thank you for reading it means a lot🤍
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Top 10 films of 2019
Here’s my very belated top 10 films of 2019! Note that this is a list of films that were released in the UK theatrically in 2019, meaning it includes certain releases that would be considered to belong to 2018 by others.
Honourable mentions: Joker, Hustlers, Booksmart, A Private War, Fighting With My Family
(And don’t worry - Little Women, 1917 and Uncut Gems are all already on my list for 2020.)
Look out for my most anticipated films of 2020 list, coming soon!
With that out of the way, here’s my list (in ascending order)! Do share your picks in the comments!
10. The Irishman (dir. Martin Scorsese)
This is clearly the work of a master filmmaker with much on his mind. In telling the story of Frank Sheeran, Scorsese is telling the story of a man who makes his trade in violence. Instead of elevating Frank as a hero or a figure of glamour, he’s consistently shown to be rather pathetic. He stumbles into the role of hitman for various factions of the criminal underworld, and sticks to it seemingly because it’s what comes most easily to him. The violence enacted by Sheeran is inane and routine, with no thought given to the personal cost until it is far too late. The final 15 minutes of this film show a life petering out with a whimper, laying bare the indignities of old age and the cold, empty horror of enduring it with no company besides your own regrets. The Irishman is a portrait of a life lived badly, and in the hands of anyone besides Scorsese it could have been dry and tedious. Instead, the filmmaking is incredibly assured and the editing is whip-sharp (in Thelma Schoonmaker we trust), making it a pleasure to watch even with the lengthy runtime.
9. The Farewell (dir. Lulu Wang)
The Farewell is a personal story about a young Asian-American woman (Awkwafina) struggling to reconcile her heritage with her current situation and values - specifically, she is tested when her grandmother is diagnosed with cancer and the wider family make the decision to hide the truth from her. The Farewell does a fantastic job of generating empathy for all the different perspectives and positions in play, but it’s truly anchored by Awkwafina’s amazingly nuanced and tender performance - basically, anyone who’s ever loved a grandparent should leave this feeling incredibly moved and inspired. The themes of The Farewell are both specific to the Asian-American experience and general to anyone who has struggled with maintaining bonds over a vast distance, whether physical or cultural. Lulu Wang is an exciting new voice in cinema, and I will watch her career with great interest.
8. Pain & Glory (dir. Pedro Almodóvar)
Almodóvar is one of my favourite filmmakers, and one of the reasons I love his work so much is its wild diversity. My favourite from him is The Skin I Live In, a film that could not be more different than Pain & Glory. This is a small, very personal film telling the story of a middle-aged director (Banderas, clearly playing a version of Almodóvar himself) who’s struggling with his legacy as a filmmaker and the increasing privations attached to middle age. Suffering in the present, Salvador finds himself retreating into memories of his childhood - particularly of his mother (Penelope Cruz) and his first crush. The childhood sequences were where the film really sung for me, perfectly capturing the sun-dappled glow of reminiscences of childhood. And the ending, where Almodóvar truly shows his hand, is delightfully mischievous and the perfect cap on this very personal picture.
7. Once Upon a Time in ... Hollywood (dir. Quentin Tarantino)
This is a slice of life movie, but while that might call to mind ‘kitchen sink’ dramas, this is unabashedly a ‘slice of life’ movie about Hollywood and the mythology that has developed around it. It’s meandering and feels rather aimless for the bulk of its runtime, but that’s kind of the point. It’s exactly what the title promises in that it recaptures what life was like in a very specific time and in a very specific place - it’s an idealised, loving depiction of the Hollywood of the time, with the movie stars, flawed and fading as they are, cast as heroes menaced by the drugged-up hippies poised to dismantle the status quo. It ends in the fashion you’d expect from Tarantino, but here I found his revisionist approach to history remarkably poignant and effective. Film is a magic medium, with Hollywood serving as the ultimate dream factory - it feels completely right that Tarantino would attempt to use celluloid to right one of the great tragedies of Hollywood history.
6. One Cut of the Dead (dir. Shinichirou Ueda)
I went into this with no expectations whatsoever - and what a treat it was! One Cut of the Dead is easily one of the funniest movies I’ve seen in years, taking what initially seems like a trite concept (a crew is filming a zombie movie at a desolate location ... only to discover that the zombies are real!) and twisting it in a truly ingenious way. The comedy is very broad, but it is consistently delightful and always manages to avoid becoming crass - the movie even has some really sweet family dynamics at the centre of it, which gives it some real emotional heft. The success of this film is heavily reliant on a major twist that occurs part-way through, so the best advice I can give you is to stay as far away from spoilers for this one as possible - go in blind, and you will be amply rewarded for your faith.
5. Midsommar (dir. Ari Aster)
I went into this film with reservations, since I wasn’t a huge fan of Hereditary (by the same director), which I found to have extraordinary moments but iffy execution overall. This movie, however, wowed me. While marketed as a freaky/arty horror film, the director has described it as a fairy tale, which is the level on which is spoke to me. Midsommar follows Dani (an incredible Florence Pugh), a young woman who has suffered a terrible loss, as she travels with her boyfriend and his friends to a pagan festival in the Swedish countryside. Dani is painfully isolated, and her grief is hers to shoulder alone since her boyfriend is un-receptive and entirely unprepared to help her. Over the course of the film, destruction and creation are conflated in ways that are both beautiful and horrific - this film spoke to me on a profound level, and the way it ended gave me an incredible sense of catharsis. This won’t be for everyone, for I found it to be a deeply special film. Let’s all raise a toast to the imminent, and much welcome, reign of Florence Pugh.
4. Parasite (dir. Bong Joon-Ho)
Parasite is that rare film that more than lives up to the massive hype surrounding it (you don’t get more hyped than winning Best Picture at the Academy Awards!). It’s hard to write about this film without spoilers, since so much of the joy of Parasite lies in discovering what the hell is going on. This is an ‘upstairs downstairs’ movie for the 21st century, where the downstairs people have fierce designs on the lives and pleasures enjoyed by their social superiors. The rich people here are not vilified, though they are depicted as vapid and shallow, perpetually searching for new ways to fill their lives with meaning. Their struggling counterparts from the rough side of the city are struggling only to get by - their lives too hard to allow time for such indulgences. This is a film about the fantasy of social advancement, and the power that dreams have to hold us in thrall to hopeless ambitions. It’s masterfully directed, acted and designed, and it has been extremely gratifying to see it receive such widespread recognition.
3. Marriage Story (dir. Noah Baumbach)
I was always going to see this (hey Adam Driver!) but I was entirely unprepared for how great Marriage Story was. Easily Baumbach’s best film, Marriage Story is a masterclass in acting and character writing - it’s fiercely intelligent in how it constantly forces you to reassess what you’re seeing and where your sympathies lie. Does Charlie seem like an oblivious, navel-gazing asshole? Sure, but he’s also confused and vulnerable and thrown entirely off balance by his awakening consciousness of his wife’s dreams and ambitions. Nicole is self-effacing and self-denying, as so many women are, which makes her emerging confidence and newfound sense of direction incredibly satisfying to witness. In the second half of Marriage Story, Driver’s Charlie undoubtedly takes the spotlight - it’s clear to me that he becomes the focus largely because he continues to flounder as Nicole finds her footing. Baumbach, wisely I feel, is most interested in his characters when they’re lost, struggling to be better but barely understanding what that means. Even if you don’t sympathise with Charlie by the end of Marriage Story, I can promise you will come away with a thorough understanding of him thanks to Driver’s extraordinary performance. Superlative work, all round. (It’s also, just for the record, the only film of 2019 to make me cry.)
2. Portrait of a Lady on Fire (dir. Céline Sciamma)
This is the 2019 film I am most excited to see again (it’s coming out in a week in the UK - I’m so excited!). Sciamma’s film is an incredibly moving and deeply beautiful love story, depicting how a female artist in 18th century France falls in love with the woman she has been covertly employed to paint. Portrait is very much a film about the act of looking, and in many ways it’s the ultimate female gaze film - it’s all about women looking at women, as depicted by a female filmmaker. Gazes are political as much as they’re romantic - here, our two heroines drink each other, aware of exactly how dangerous and forbidden their mutual intoxication is. The woozy thrall of their relationship is exquisitely conveyed through the cinematography and direction, and the final shot - which I won’t spoil - is an all-timer that serves as an exquisite coda to the entire film. This is a truly superb film, and I’m still incensed that it received no substantial awards recognition. Let’s hope it goes down in film history as the masterpiece it is, yet another omission proving the limitations of the Oscars as a metric for great art.
1. The Favourite (dir. Yorgos Lanthimos)
This completely wowed me, and against all the odds it stuck with me as the best film I saw in 2019 - it features a trio of magnificently compelling female characters (played by Olivia Colman, Rachel Weisz and Emma Stone) operating at the court of Queen Anne (Colman is Anne, Weisz and Stone are courtiers), and is laser-focused on the shifting sands of the power dynamics between them. The script is savage without sacrificing poignancy, witty without ceasing to be emotionally honest. And while I’ve seen some react to this film as a comedy (and it certainly has laughs, most of which are tightly packaged with shock), for me it was very clearly a drama about the inscrutable and complicated relationships that exist between women. Specifically, it is about how those relationships run the gamut from sincere affinity to ruthless manipulation. This is a spectacular movie, visually and thematically rich in every frame, and it also has the best use of an Elton John song in 2019 (sorry, Rocketman!).
Fly away, skyline pigeon fly, towards the things you’ve left so very, so very far, behind.
#the irishman#portrait of a lady on fire#the favourite#midsommar#adam driver#marriage story#florence pugh#the farewell#awkwafina#parasite#once upon a time in hollywood#film#cinema#best of the year#2019#one cut of the dead#pain and glory
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Hola! I hope you day has been good so far! :)
I know I am not the only one to feel this but I adore your blog! I, too, and a fellow writer, but I was wondering how did you gain an audience? How did you start from your first post? Did you wait for requests? Or did you just jump right in?
Sorry, that was a lot of questions, but I was just curious as I’m trying to start up my blog! I really look up to you and your blog! 🥰🤩🥸
-🪐
Hello, hon!
First off, let me just tell you how overjoyed I am at the fact that you thought to ask me. When I first read this I had the biggest smile on my face. It means so much to me that you look up to me. Literally, I am crying over here!
Second of all, I wish I had some really good thought out advice for you. But I really don’t, however, I will give you the best advice that I can.
The first time I ever wrote fanfic, it was an idea that had been plaguing my mind for days. I tried to find other fics that would satisfy me, but I just couldn’t. So I sat down and practically said “Fine, I’ll do it myself.” I had no experience writing but I tried to give it my all. I don’t know why, (But I am thankful I did), but I decided to set up a Tumblr account and post it. I had no expectations of it going anywhere.
However, I woke up the next day with so much love and support being shared over my fic. That is the one thing that has really blown me away; How amazing every single person is in this fandom. They offer so much kindness that it has become mindblowing.
Now, what I do when I write is, as cliche as it sounds, I just write. Whatever comes to my mind, I put it down on paper. (Well really a google doc but we don’t need to know the details) Or if I am laying in bed and something pops into my mind, I write it down on any paper I can find. Now, I just have a pen and notebook that permanently stays on my night desk. Oo, also, whatever you write down doesn’t have to be elaborate, just whatever will make you remember your ideas.
One piece of advice is, when you are writing and you seem to be in a good flow, don’t let little details stop you. If you have no idea where to go next, or what a character should say, just add those handy three little dots, and continue on. Don’t get caught up in the little things! Sometimes I have a plan for a fic, other times I have no idea where I am going with it. But those are always the most fun to write, at least for me.
Writing, for me, is like a puzzle. It has little pieces that when put together, make one really beautiful picture. However, there is no right way to put those pieces together, just whatever seems to work for you.
Now, for how I gained an audience. Man, I really could not tell you. I am still flummoxed with how many people interact with me. However, I would say, make sure to use tags. I know that when I first started reading fanfic I would just read everything under the recent side of a certain tag. Other people do the same thing, so using tags is a huge thing!!! Use gifs and photos, to draw people's eyes to your fic. Do a small summary, make them want to read your fic! Capture them with that first paragraph!!!!
Get yourself out there! Ask for feedback, maybe find a friend who could read your stuff and give you an honest review. I edit my stuff at least twice before I post it. Read through it with a fine pick comb. Read it out loud, does it flow right? Do you stop on any words? Did you misspell anything? Did you use the right version of their, there, or they’re? How about your and you’re? I always find that these simple little things are the ones I often look over, it sucks!
How did I start receiving requests? Again, I have no idea. I just woke up one day and saw that someone had put one in. I was like, hell yeah, let's do this! And I started to write for it. Usually, once people see that you are open to taking requests, they’ll start to ask themselves. It’s kinda a “get the ball rolling” situation. You could also just do a post saying that you are taking requests. In addition, just keep posting, at least semi, regularly. (I need to get better at this too.) Get people to keep seeing your account.
Did I just jump right in? Hell yeah! As I do with everything in my life, why not start big. Like I said before, I was not expecting myself to blow up this much, I still find it crazy. But I just started posting little stories I had written without paying attention to the note count.
It’s easy to become hyper fixated and base your worth off of how many likes you get, how many reblogs you get, and how many people comment on your stuff. In my case, a few months ago, Tumblr was not sharing my stuff so I would only average about five likes per post. Sure I was discouraged, but I had taught myself not to base myself off on those numbers. Thankfully, it has been sorted out, but do you get what I am trying to say? You should be posting for yourself, not a number on a screen.
I try to write as much as I can now. Even if I don’t want to post anything, I still try to do even a small creative writing. You’ll notice that at the beginning of my masterlist, my writing is not as good as my writing now, and probably in a few months, my writing will be so much better. It all just comes down to practice.
Descriptive words are your friend!!! If it’s one thing I’ve learned from all my writing classes, it is to set the scene. The setting is such a big part of a story, and yet some people tend to look over it. Really try and immerse yourself and your characters into the plotline.
Try not to have your sentences start with the same word over and over again. Also, break up your sentence structure. Sure you want a nice flow, but it doesn’t want to become monotonous. In addition, try not to use the same words within your sentences. Just as speaking, when someone says a single word a ton, the listener will become fixated on that word and not pay attention to the rest of them. So, moral of the story, break it up! Find new cool words to use. I always have a tab open where I can just put the word I want to use and look up cool new synonyms.
But at the end of the day, this should be something you enjoy. I’ve seen way too many writers get burnt out and start to view their writing as a job. If you notice that this is starting to happen, take a step back and ask yourself why? Is it the genre? Are you just not feeling the vibe of a story? Are you just in a funk? Etc. Take a break until you feel better! Self-care is the best medicine!
In conclusion, thank you so much for asking me. I wish I had some vast knowledge of fanfic writing, but I really don’t. I am still learning every day. But that is the best part! I love looking back at my old writing and going, “wow I really have grown.” It always feels so rewarding.
I hope this helps you, I know it’s kind of long, but I thought they were all good points. If you want, please tag me when you start to post, I would love love love to read your stuff! Obviously, I understand if you don’t want to, no hard feelings there.
Thank you again, darling. If you feel like no one is supporting you, remember you have me over here ready to help you in any way, shape, or form! I love you so much, and good luck!
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Inconsequentials
Moodboard Credit: @alottanothing
Summary: You’ve lived in New York City for a few years and were one of Angela’s roommates in college. You bump into Elliot on the night of Angela’s birthday party, and you and Elliot connect. Smut’s at the end.
Warnings: Smut
* * * * *
The noise of the bar is too much; it isn’t the competition between the music and the televisions, or the cacophony of alerts on cellphones that people couldn’t bother to silence for one night.
It is the loud conversation, or rather, attempts at conversation. The too-loud small talk with people You only vaguely knows and honestly doesn’t care to know. The endless cycle of too-loud questions: “Hey! Good to see you! What have you been up to?” and “Are you seeing anyone?” and “How are you?” and “What’s new?”
Unable to bear another hour, you make your goodbye to your old roommate, citing an early morning meeting as an excuse, and then quickly exit through the door of the bar, hoping to slink unaccosted by anyone else into the city’s quiet nighttime.
However, the solid body you collide into as you round off the stoop makes your quick exit come to a pretty damn obvious halt.
“Shit! I’m so sor—"
Your words escape you as your eyes lock onto the most ethereal eyes you’ve ever seen. You think, for an instant, that if you got close enough to them it would be like that final scene in one of the Men in Black movies where doors keep opening and opening and opening just to show us how insignificant our understanding of the universe really is.
You realize that you’re standing there, open-mouthed, like an idiot and quickly take a step back before beginning your apology again.
“Sorry about that.”
“It’s okay.”
Jesus. Fuck me up and drive me crazy. Even his voice is otherworldly.
“I must say, though, that’s not the safest place to stand considering the endless parade of just too much to drink that walks out of this place.”
The man looks at you and you can feel his mind working, feel his tenseness over whether or not to talk. You almost begin to apologize, again, when he speaks.
“I’m supposed to be in there. It’s my friend’s birthday.”
“You know Angela?”
His eyes widen, although it seems impossible that they could get any larger.
“You know Angela?” He echoes and you can’t help but chuckle.
“I do believe I asked you first,” you say through a grin.
He smiles, just a quick blink and you’ll miss it quirk of the lips, but you definitely categorize it as a smile.
“We’ve been friends since we were kids. And we work together now.”
“You’re Elliot,” you state with a finality that surprises him. “I went to college with Angela and we shared an apartment with two other girls, Jess and Annamarie—actually, both of them are still inside, and you know how it is. Late night talks. Shared childhood stories. I have an odd affinity for remembering inconsequential details. Not that you as a person are inconsequential!”
Fuck. You’re babbling like an idiot, and sort of shocked that this almost-stranger could make you so school-girl nervous.
Elliot did that almost smile thing again and seemed sort of surprised at his own response.
“Aren’t we all inconsequential, though? Swallowed up by the people we answer to? Or by society’s expectations and our inability to meet them?”
As soon as the words leave his mouth, he seems paralyzed, like he can’t believe he said them out loud.
“Shit. I didn’t mean to say—"
“Sure you did. But I suppose it has something to do with you not wanting to go in there? Maybe worried that you’ll feel weird because you don’t know anyone other than her?”
Elliot watches as you tilt your head to the side just a bit and finish simply by saying, “Or maybe you just hate people?”
Elliot turns to look inside giving you an opportunity to look at him properly. He’s head to toe in black, a worn hoodie clinging to his thin frame. His shoes are scuffed, also worn, but you can’t help but to let your eyes wander up his denim clad legs and to his ass, outlined nicely enough in the tight pants.
And that face. You could look at that face forever, like a piece of art that has layers and layers of depth. How many times do you meet a person in real life with a face like that?
Elliot sighs and turns back to you, your eyes snapping up to his.
“You’re not missing anything. Unless you enjoy watching Angela’s latest terrible choice in men cling to her like she’s a life preserver and he’s drowning.”
Your comment earns a snort of derision from Elliot.
Emboldened by his response and the fact that he has made no move to go inside the bar, you ask, “Instead of going in there, do you want to maybe go somewhere else? Engage in some horrific small talk until we get to the good stuff?”
“Okay.”
One definitely awkward, mostly silent ten-minute train ride and an equally awkward and mostly silent block and a half of walking later, you are at your favorite dive bar. It is in an old building that should’ve been torn down a decade ago but escaped the clutches of modernization. Stale cigarette smoke still clung to the walls even though smoking was banned inside years ago. Despite the aged odors and decor, it was clean and quiet, full of regulars who also wanted to hold onto the past, desperate to have a place to just watch the outdated TV above the bar and talk with people like themselves, desperate for a time before Snapchat and Facebook and the stale conversations of the superficial, of people who only pretend to know you because they only really know your profile and your posts.
No one pays any attention to you and Elliot as they walk in and head to one of the booths in the back. You slide in and shuck off your coat as Elliot pulls back his hood, his hands running through his hair quickly.
You wet your lips at the sight of his face without any barrier and at the practiced way his hands fix his hair.
He’s beautiful.
And what an idiot you feel like as you think it, but wow. You make a mental note that despite the worn hoodie and boots, he must know he looks decently good if he visits a barber regularly enough to get a high maintenance haircut like that. Elliot was shaping up to be a true enigma.
“What do you want to drink? My treat,” you say through a quick smile.
“I’ll have whatever you have.”
You slip out of the booth, and when you place the order, you make sure to lean just a bit into the bar as you wait in order to show off your ass.
When the bartender returns, you ask, “Sammy—is he looking? Did he check out my ass?”
Sammy chuckles and leans in to whisper, “Oh, yeah. Didn’t even try to do it discreetly.”
“Interesting,” you reply. “I’m not quite sure what to make of him, but that helps a bit.”
“I’ll keep an eye on you, babe.”
You chuckle, pay, and say your thanks.
“Coors Light. Bottled. I’m pretty much as basic as they come.”
Elliot sort-of smiles, lifts his bottle to his mouth and takes a long drink.
“So, back to the whole idea of the inconsequentialness of humanity—what makes you believe that?
Elliot shakes his head and starts to backpedal, but you push him.
“Don’t tell me you blurt out dark truths about humanity but don’t mean them. Don’t be that guy.”
“Most people don’t want to hear the things that I keep in my head. I’m not sure you really understand what you’re asking.”
You raise an eyebrow, a little annoyed at his reluctance.
“I assure you . . . I can handle it. I taught high school for a few years before I got my current gig in the city. If anyone can understand cynicism, it’s a teacher.”
Elliot leans forward, his fingers lightly tapping against the sweating bottle.
“Why’d you stop? Teaching, I mean. Isn’t it supposed to be . . . rewarding?”
You genuinely laugh and it is loud enough and strong enough to make Elliot blink in surprise.
“Christ. Those moments are so few and far between the chaos of putting out everyday fires that after a while, it just isn’t enough. The bad outweighs the good. And I knew I didn’t belong in front of those kids once I felt like that. Now, I work for a mid-size company writing and editing technical manuals and working on grants to get more funding so they can expand. I’m just an inconsequential buried in work by the people who are hoping to become people rich enough to run the world.”
Elliot is quiet for a minute or so, most likely processing everything you unloaded.
After another drink, he says, “I work at Allsafe. It’s…it’s a cybersecurity firm. We protect companies from cyber attacks. We protect those big companies that are actually rich enough to run the world.”
You roll your eyes and nod in agreement. “It seems like the more I read, the more depressed I get because those companies just eat up everything. Consumerism, I guess? As long as there is something they can convince people to buy, they will continue to take people’s money and they will continue to be richer than god.”
Elliot studies you as he finishes off his beer.
“My turn,” he mumbles as he grabs your empty bottle and heads to the bar.
Conversation becomes easier; while you definitely are the one talking the most, Elliot does relax and stops looking so shocked every time he shares something with you.
At the end of the night, and after you’ve both developed a good buzz, you slide out of the booth. You give Sammy a smile and a wave to let him know you think the man in black is alright after all and the two of you head back toward the subway. As you walk, your shoulder brushes Elliot’s, ever so slightly.
“I’m really glad I quite literally ran into you,” you say, sneaking a sideways glance as the two of you jog down the stairs.
Elliot’s hands are buried in his hoodie pockets and you can just make out the small smile that crosses his lips.
“Me, too.”
“Text me sometime?” you ask as you hand Elliot your phone.
You watch as he enters his number, his fingers moving almost faster than your eyes can register, especially due to your tipsiness. He hands your phone back and you let out a huff of a laugh as you see he’s already texted himself. A simple, “Hi.”
Your train arrives at that moment and you give Elliot a small wave as he watches you step through the doors. You take a seat and turn to look out of the window, meeting his eyes once again. As soon as the train pulls away, your phone vibrates and you grin.
It’s stupid, really, to feel so happy. All he’s sent is a simple message: Goodnight : )
* * * * * * *
Over the next three weeks, you and Elliot text a lot, meet up for coffee twice, and then decide to go for drinks at your bar again. The night progresses in a similar fashion to their first night together, but this time, when Elliot walks you to your train, you ask him if he wants to come over.
“I don’t think I’m ready for the night to end this time,” you confess as you look up at Elliot, running your hand through your hair and biting your bottom lip.
“Okay,” he says in more of a rumble than an actual word.
The train ride seems to take twice as long as usual. You sit close together but not quite touching; you’re just close enough to feel the presence of him, to feel the heat of him, and to breathe him in. You desperately want to lean into him, to rest your hand on his thigh, but you know that touching is something of a struggle for him. It’s going to be up to Elliot to cross that line.
It is a short walk from the subway to your apartment. You live in a decent enough neighborhood where people mind their own business but are still friendly enough to hold a door open for one another.
As soon as you’re inside, Elliot busies himself by moving around your space, his eyes searching everything and nothing at the same time. It is a small studio apartment so it’s pretty easy to take everything in. You were lucky enough to find a studio with a loft, so the bedroom isn’t currently staring obscenely at the two of them, reminding you of the line that you so desperately want Elliot to cross.
You take off your jacket and your shoes, happy to finally be barefoot. You go to the fridge and grab a bottle of water for lack of anything else to do while Elliot finishes his inventory of your stuff. Seemingly satisfied, he takes a seat at the barstool on the other side of your kitchen counter, which doubles as a table. He still has his hands stuffed in his hoodie and the hood is up. You’re eyes inadvertently flick to the hood, and he reaches up to take it down, mussing through his hair in that same way that makes your lick your lips every damn time. God, how you want to be the one who fixes his hair when he takes that fucking hood down.
“I really like you. These past few weeks have been nice—having someone to talk to,” you say as you twirl your water between your fingers.
“I’m not very good at this,” Elliot says in a too-loud blunt voice as he looks away, a slight blush coloring his cheeks.
You laugh softly but stop the instant you see Elliot’s hands twitch up, as if he’s about to pull on his hoodie again.
You move quickly around the counter and reach out, your hand barely resting on his covered arm.
“I mean, who is if they really like someone? It’s always weird when you’re deciding whether or not to cross that line.”
Elliot turns those eyes on you, large and dark in the dim lighting of your apartment, and full of vulnerability. He presses his lips together and takes a deep breath. You’re pretty sure you can hear his heart beating, but then again, maybe it’s yours?
He turns his body toward you and skims his fingers, light as feathers over your arm before grasping just above your elbow. Your eyes are locked on Elliot’s as you step between his legs, closing the last bit of distance. He looks up at you and uses his other hand to grasp your chin and pull you toward his mouth.
Your first kiss is soft, hesitant. Your lips ghost against his as you slowly open your mouth more and more until he is the one to slide his tongue past your lips. You don’t mean to, but you let out the tiniest groan of pleasure as you open your mouth wider to his explorations and begin to return the kiss. The heat between the two of you is such a mixture of chemical wantonness and desperate urgency not be alone that it’s amazing neither of you combust.
Elliot’s hand slides from your chin to your hair and you’re gripping his thigh so tightly as you lean into him that you’re sure it hurts. But if anything, he’s opening up for you, sensing in you the same feelings of loneliness he has buried within himself.
You move your hand from Elliot’s thigh and from the back of the barstool to place both in his hair. You’ve been desperate to touch that black mess since the first night you saw him remove his hood and fix it himself. His hair is thicker than you expect, but so soft and when you dig your fingers into his scalp and move impossibly close to his body, he moans.
You pull his head back to angle his gorgeous jaw to your lips. You kiss his chin, moving your lips slowly and softly along his jawline, peppering it with sweet kisses until you reach his earlobe. You close your teeth over it before kissing just underneath his ear.
Elliot’s hands have moved to your hips and he’s gripping them almost as ferociously as you gripped his thigh.
You pull back and look at each other, searching each other’s faces for any sign of leftover hesitation. He looks so sexy with his lips just a little raw from kissing, shining with saliva and still slightly parted.
“Upstairs?”
Elliot nods and takes your hand as you extend it to him, trailing just behind you as you walk up to the loft.
“Are you looking at my ass?”
Elliot laughs, a sweet, short burst of noise that you want to memorize in case it never happens again.
“That’s how I knew you liked me that first night,” you explains as you reach the top of the stairs and turn to face him. “I asked Sammy if you looked.”
Elliot smiles as he answers, “You have a great ass.”
You laugh at his frank reply, and he pulls you into him. He kisses you until you need to pull away to breath and that’s when you knows it’s good—that he’s crossing the line and that it’s a good, good thing.
He reaches around to grip your ass through your jeans and you grasp his shoulders. He pushes your hips into his and you can feel how hard he is already.
“Way too many clothes,” you mumble into his neck.
He steps back and unzips his hoodie, shrugging out of it, the clang of the zipper hitting the floor making the reality of what’s about to happen all the more intense. You pull your top over your head and let it fall from your fingertips. His eyes are taking you in and you enjoy the heat his gaze brings to your core. You reach up and unhook your bra, Elliot’s eyes watching the front clasp spring apart. He steps forward and slides the straps from your shoulders. He reaches out to cup your breasts, his thumbs sliding over your hard nipples. He pulls gently at them, watching your face instead of your body. Your eyes slide shut and you groan at the motion, and he does it again before he trails his knuckles over your stomach and grasps the front of your jeans. He pulls you into his body, encapsulating your lips in a heated kiss as his hands travel over your back, into your hair, and back to grip your ass again.
You need to feel his skin against yours, so you reach down to pull his t-shirt over his head. You immediately move to kiss the smattering of freckles across his shoulders, your mouth leaving hot kisses from shoulder to shoulder, stopping in the middle to lick at the base of his neck. His body is hot and tight and your fingers are in love with the feel of him.
You trail kisses down his chest, tweaking his nipples in a motion that mirrored how he had touched yours. Elliot groans and his head drops back as his eyes close. Once you’re on your knees, you pop the button on his jeans and his head snaps back to attention, watching you with those goddamn eyes. You look up as you palm his hard cock through his jeans and he moves your hands out of the way so he can unzip and open his pants, inviting you to touch him.
You pull his jeans down and off, tugging off his black socks as well. You know you shouldn’t, but you chuckle, low in your throat.
“My god, you really are the man in black.”
Elliot shrugs his shoulders in response and you smile as you pull his boxer briefs over his erection and down his legs. He steps out of them and you look up and raise your brow.
“Impressive.”
Elliot doesn’t have time to debate with himself on a reply because your mouth is surrounding that impressive length, your tongue cradling his cock as you take in the taste of him. You suck, hollowing your cheeks as you grip his hips to keep him steady. You alternate between slow, torturing licks and engulfing him in the heat of your mouth until his hands grip yours, signaling you to stop. You give a final lick to the tip, enjoying the saltiness of his precum.
He holds his hands out to help your stand back up, and as soon as you have your footing, Elliot’s pushing you toward the bed. You lie back stretching, teasing him as he looks at your body. He reaches down to open the button on your jeans and unzips them, tugging them off of your legs. Elliot traces his fingers up your legs, pushing them apart. He runs his thumb over your still-under-wear-clad center. He presses on your clit, gently testing your arousal.
You moan and push yourself into his touch. You don’t care if you sound needy.
You continue to watch Elliot as he lightly fingers over everything but your clit, and you’re just about to beg as he slides his finger into your underwear and lightly grazes your core. He brings that finger to his lips and slides it into his mouth, closing his eyes at the taste.
“Jesus Christ, El. You’re killing me,” you pant.
He smirks, just a quick twitch of his lips.
“I like when you call me that,” he begins as he reaches up to slide your underwear off.
“But I think I want to hear you scream it,” he finishes as he closes his lips over your clit and sucks.
“Fuck! Elliot, El, oh, fuck!”
Your body is trembling with its need to orgasm and you’re pretty sure that Elliot’s lips are built for the sole purpose of making your come, but you want the first time you come with him to be while he’s inside of you.
You wiggle away from his face, and he looks up, his lips glistening, his brows furrowing until he sees what you grabbed out of the nightstand’s drawer.
“I want you in me when I come,” you say, tearing the foil packet open, probably looking a little more like an animal than a seductress but so desperate to feel his cock inside of you that you don’t even fucking care.
However you looked, it worked for Elliot. His eyes are blown wide and so dark with arousal. He shudders as you push the condom over him, not even giving him time to process the sensation as you pull him by the base of his cock toward you.
He doesn’t hesitate to slide into your soaking center, both of you moaning at the feeling of him finally inside of you. You tighten your thighs around him and hold him still, relishing in this sensation that only happens once in every relationship; the first time he sinks into you, the first time you experience what it’s like to be sated by this person you’ve allowed to cross the line is a true moment of intimacy that is only ever experienced once in every relationship. Each subsequent time just attempts to chase the high of that very first time.
You eventually loosen your grip, allowing your body to respond naturally to his. Elliot is slow, methodical, at first. Beads of sweat are forming at his temples and he looks so lost in the feeling of your body, lost, but at peace, like everything in his head is finally quiet.
He fucks you at that excruciatingly slow pace until you beg him to go faster, harder.
“Please, El. Need you. Need you so much.”
Elliot’s hips begin to rock into you, your hips rising to meet his until you create a perfect rhythm. You can tell he’s getting close from the red blush that creeps across his chest and the slight faltering in his pace. He changes his angle so he can watch you as he rubs your still swollen clit, your hands reaching up to grip the headboard as he slams into you.
“Oh, god Elliot!”
You cry out as your orgasm finally shocks its way through your body leaving you a trembling mess as Elliot stills himself in you and comes with a groan that sounds a whole lot like your name.
He falls half on top of you, careful not to crush you, but you can feel his heart pounding, echoing your own heart’s strong beats. His breathing is deep, but slowly returns to a steady pace. You have your arm flung across your eyes, still steadying your own breathing as you feel his weight shift as he gets out of bed.
Elliot hisses just a bit as he pulls the condom off. The silence is long and awkward enough for you to remove your arm and look over at him, standing adorably in a state of confusion as his eyes dart around the room. You giggle as you realizes he’s looking for the trash can.
“Shit—sorry!” You slide over and open the front panel of your nightstand to reveal a trashcan inside.
He tosses it in the bin and quirks his head at you stating, “You’re very. . . clean. I mean, like, organized.”
“One of my idiosyncrasies. Why? Are you a slob?”
“Uhhh. . .”
“Alright. So, next time, we go to your place and maybe we clean instead of doing this?”
“Was I really that bad?”
You laugh and hold the sheet up, inviting him back into bed.
Elliot slides in and lays his body half over yours. You slide your hands up his smooth back and he dips down to kiss you.
“You know that was amazing,” you say softly.
And you think to yourself that you could get really used to the feeling of Elliot’s lips quirking into a smile as he kisses your neck.
* * * * *
Note: I’ve wanted to write Elliot for a while, but I’ve never been confident with my characterization of him. I guess I just want happy Elliot too much, so sorry if I’ve mucked it up.
Also, the line, “Fuck me up and drive me crazy” is stolen from the Lil Peep song, “I’ve Been Waiting.”
#elliot alderson#elliot alderson x reader#female reader#elliot x reader#elliot alderson smut#rami malek#mr robot#elliot alderson imagine#elliot alderson fanfic#rami malek imagine
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Update: I’ve been super sick ever since the morning. I think the stress piled up because I was super nauseous (and I... don’t even get nausea? Maybe I’ve thrown up once or twice within last 10 years and that’s it? So it’s extremely rare for me to get this bad?) and I had to skip my morning classes, then I dragged my ass to campus miserably on a terrible cold rain because I had to join biochemistry lab (labs are mandatory and if you miss one lab session you fail the lab), then I came back to home righf after, read a lil Falling for Your Voice and then just slept like the dead.
It’s around 9.30 pm now but I feel as if I was hit by a truck. On the bright side, maybe this was the decharge I needed, because I slept a lot and while my stomach still hurts I feel very rested, mentally and emotionally, which means I’m ready for the weekend in which we are going to study hard because we have three midterms ahead! I’m planning to reward myself with pizza and dessert tomorrow (definitely not today, I feel like my will to eat is back but I don’t want to risk it) and... get it done? Really.
There was an interesting encounter between me and my friends today. You know, college is college— it’s normal for people to have suicidal tendencies or make dark humor jokes at this point. By no means I think less of anyone, but one of my not-so-high-scoring friend jokingly said during the lab like, “I think I’m gonna kill myself on tuesday, there is so much going on.” and another friend of mine joined jokingly like, “Well, call me if you do, not to stop you but to die with you.” and I honestly thought of Dazai Osamu but anyway that’s not the point��
Another friend of mine, whom I briefly had a crush on in fact, approached from behind and joined halfway through the conversation asking what we are up to. Now this guy is a high scoring one and he’s kinda sweet and he multitasks many stuff and he usually does it well. So my other friend complained about how she was going to die (jokingly), and he just put his hands on my shoulder reassuringly, grinned at her, and said, “Well darlings, it means we are going to work a lot, get lil sleep, but also get this done!” and in that moment I noticed what a big difference the mindset can make.
Because that girl doesn’t believe in herself. She will just pass through but she will spend most of her time feeling sad instead of getting the work done (how do I know? Haha. Maybe I was like that too.) while he will just, get the work done, regardless. Both will suffer but in the end he will at least get a payback for his suffering? And the fact that he can say this smiling, with a non-sarcastic smile as well? So cute. I mean coUGHS that seriously gave me some motivation! I didn’t talk in that conversation I think, I was so blown by my realization of how important mindset is and also how he touched my shoulders but wow good shit.
I think I’m getting back. I won’t be too slow getting back to you all and getting back to my life but I won’t jump right away either because I still feel mildly in pain, which is a huge indication that it is me overworking myself.
Me and my friend had talked what we’d go out partying no matter what tonight but since I’m sick I cancelled that as well.
Also, I don’t know whether the authors of the fanfics will read this completely random diary-based post of mine until the end but honestly? Reading Falling for your voice calmed me down, like, I did try to write some of my fanfics but I was having extreme writer’s block and I couldn’t think of anything better than reading that cozy story (and also the author handles hurt/comfort so well? Unlike me who downright breaks the characters. I feel like I’m safe when I read the stories, which is so odd, but comforting), and also there is this nsfw-ish request of mine that was written sjfkvkdn and I kept thinking about Ray Grace smacking Norman’s fine butt and it is so hot and I’m so pleased and like. I also got COMMENTS like multiple COMMENTS on my fics aND alSO aaAaAAAaAAAAAaA Ari sent me?? Pics of?? Ray the perfection???? Of the perfect art?( and his ice cream???? AND THE FLOUR ON HIS CHEEKS?????? AND HIS SHY, UNCOMFORTABLE LOOK???? I JUST LOVE?? So much?????
As I said I’ll take things a lil slowly so I’m just making one big post about all updates today and getting individual replies back tomorrow. For now I need to eat (would u believe me, ME, the girl who lives for food hasn’t eaten anything except half a banana entire day) a bit, and then do biochemistry revision. It is cold outside, but somehow my heart feels so warm after my encounters with my friends and also from everything that happens on Tumblr.
Okay, this post doesn’t have a conclusion, but like... I really wanted to draw fanart for falling for your voive except I’m not an artist and I don’t know how to make Normie and Ray look nice. I know that’s not an excuse, I can just learn, but honestly, with this workload I can’t afford that yet. I don’t know. As I said, I am hesitant to go all way as I get myself back to life because I’m worried of another collapse, so this is enough for today. I apologize from everyone whose replies I delayed. Honestly, it is same on my irl messages too. I tend to not find the energy to reply back sometimes and these last two weeks were really some tough college life. Don’t ever take it personal! Anyway, complaining about past has a limit, I’m looking forward to revise my favorite class now! (Yes, biochemistry, haha. Though I only love it because I love the professor and the theory. Biochemistry labs are always so time consuming and I’d rather do something like bioinformatics if I chose a career. But still, biochemistry is all about understanding the life... it always mesmerizes me. I’m amazed.)
So stay safe and please don’t hesitate to message me even if I reply late! I really get this warm safe feeling when I am here, and, not detached. ❤️
Ah, enough talk, I feel like I’m talking to void since this isn’t a private message but I’ve written so far so I might as well post it.
Oh— one last thing! I seem to have a writer’s block! It is okay, I know it is temporary, but since I’m both short on time and not inspired, it is likely that there will be no updates this week! But after that I get two weeks free before finals so I may post! Maybe I update The Promised Wonderland, I like soft boi Norman having his innocent crushes, he is so cute, and pure, and I love these babies.
#nila stuff#update#rambling#i could tag many things but dont wanna tag bait#a generally positive post#college
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idk if you're still doing the ask thing but uhhh what's it like being one of the best writeblrs in town? what's your primary source of inspiration? are there any old wips that you gave up ages ago but are tempted to go back and change/finish? are there any wips that you haven't told anyone about yet but are dying to share? (pls share if you want!) Finally, why do you like writing so much? (you don't have to answer all the questions i just really like asking people these questions bc they're fun)
Thank you so much for all of the questions! I really enjoyed answering them :)
It’s a bit long so I’m putting it all under a cut!
What's it like being one of the best writeblrs in town?
Oh my gosh, I really don’t think I’m anywhere near being one of the best writeblrs in town, but I’m super flattered that you think I am!
Overall, I love being a writeblr, and I love the little community of friends, mutuals, and followers that I have. I definitely wouldn’t still be around if I didn’t enjoy the community so much! I love being able to support people, and sometimes sharing what little I have. The amount of passion, creativity and kindness here is phenomenal, and I’m really honored to be a part of it!
It’s pretty normal, honestly. I’m definitely not one of the super popular writeblrs that gets a whole lot of engagement (though I am really thankful for every bit of engagement I get 💙💙) so I think that I have a lot less going on than most people might think. That’s mostly my own fault though I think, because I haven’t shared a whole lot of my writing or projects. I reblog stuff, post stuff sometimes, I try to reblog and leave comments on people’s work when I’m feeling up to it, and occasionally I’m delighted by a very kind comment.
It’s not all roses and sparkles though, a lot of really hard work went into getting where I am. Being a bigger blog with a certain reputation also brings with it a lot of problems and frustrations that I usually don’t talk about because I think it’s pretty tacky to rant about publicly on my blog.
But it’s worth it, you know? The positives definitely outweigh the negatives, and I met so many amazing people here which is the best gift. I just don’t think that my writeblr experience is that different from most other people haha!
What's your primary source of inspiration?
My writing partner is a really big one. She’s super creative and I absolutely adore writing with her. She comes up with the best ideas, and talking about our ideas and projects and characters with her is always a surefire way for me to get excited and inspired about something, even if I’m in a slump!
TV shows, movies, books, video games that I’m into also sometimes ignite a spark! When I’m creatively drained or suffering writer’s block, I always try to just disconnect from writing for a bit and immerse myself in other media until something clicks.
Otherwise, aesthetics are one of the primary ways I get into an idea or a concept so that’s pretty important as well!
Are there any old wips that you gave up ages ago but are tempted to go back and change/finish?
It’s been a really long time since I’ve written for any of the WIPs that I’ve announced on tumblr. For Queen and Country, Morsmordre, Post-Script, Wanderlust... Between me and my partners feeling burnt out, or stuck, or just otherwise busy with other things, they’ve all fallen to the wayside a bit and that makes me a bit sad.
I don’t think any of us have given up on them, but right now they’re not active and I really wish that they were.
Are there any wips that you haven't told anyone about yet but are dying to share?
YES!!! Two of them, in fact.
One of them is a fanfiction that will be accessible to people who aren’t part of the fandom and have no knowledge about it — it will have no spoilers for the fandom, and all of the fandom-specific worldbuilding and such will be explainable. But it’s an incredibly original idea; there’s no fic anything like it on AO3, fanfiction.net or wattpad, and I’m a bit paranoid that once I start talking about it, people might take the idea and run with it? Which you know, might not happen and I know I’m being overly cautious. But I’ve demanded a gag order until we’re ready to post the actual story. It’s so good and I can’t wait to tell people but I want to keep it a secret until it’s ready and faljdskhcnlkdsjcnlakdjn
The other one is my Nano project!!! I’m really close to being able to share it!!!!! So close, yet so far... Hoping to be able to announce within the next week or so.
Finally, why do you like writing so much?
I’ve been writing for my entire life basically, ever since I was 5 years old. It’s just been my choice of a creative outlet, I suppose, and I never really questioned it.
My first serious attempt at writing was play-by-post roleplaying, and I adored that because it allowed me to flesh out characters and character relationships with other people. That’s still a massive part of the appeal because I write with partners. Being able to collaborate on an idea, and endlessly talk about character relationships, dynamics, and plotting is definitely among the most rewarding experiences I’ve gotten with writing.
Like I said before, writing it my creative outlet. I’m a really creative person, but writing is really one of the only ways that I can express it because I’m not artistic whatsoever, and I don’t have a whole lot of other skills. Writing is something I can do though, and I often feel like I’m going to explode if I go too long without creating something. And it’s so immensely satisfying to be able to look at something I wrote or created and be like “Wow, I did really good.” My progress isn’t easily trackable, but I am able to look at my writing and see that I’ve improved, which is really motivating.
But when it comes to the question, why do I like it so much... I’m honestly not sure! Writing has always just been one of my things, and I’ve never actually delved too deeply into the why. It’s an interesting question though, and hopefully I’ll find an answer someday!
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'Fake news'... is it a problem?
Hello again everyone, i just wanted to post a little something in regards to the essay i am writing for one of my classes at university in regards to fake news because, wow, i found a lot of information. Some of which are humorous examples of misinformation and others that have proven to be harmful.
Im sure a lot of you have heard the term fake news at least a thousand times because of the uprise of Donald Trump and his election. But did you know this term (fake news) is problematic to the delicate content of what is in fact, information disorder?
Im going to be short since this is a dragging topic, yet it is one we should be aware of. I know a lot of us scroll through tumblr, facebook, instagram and other platforms seeing first hand the viral nature to fake news. Here i will give a short list of examples to misinformation, disinformation and malinformation and just how these categories of what is widely 'information disorder'— fit into the picture.
Misinformation — this term is used within information disorder; that has been generated with no intent to harm but all in all; is still false. Such as Justin Bieber eating a burrito sideways. Did anyone else see that? In fact that photo was a fake, the man was a 'doppelgänger'-look-alike of Justin himself and was sent to America to shoot those controversial photos because seriously, who eats a burrito sideways? Thats madness!
Disinformation — disinformation is actually intwined a lot with misinformation, just with a bit more seriousness involved. The content of disinformation is deliberated shared and created to decieve the readers. Its the soul purpose in the creator/s mind. The group of visual artists and photographers that had the decieving idea to share a fake Justin Beiber eating a burrito works with this category.
Malinformation — this is where it gets serious guys. Malinformation is the creation of harmful conent with the underlining intent to in fact, harm. This stuff is what is put out there to strike some fear into the readers mind, scare them, hurt them and worry them. We see this a lot these days with islamic content and the mislead of muslims, to the mass shootings and the killers purpose all the way to the defamation of celebrities and rumours, sex scandals and illegal doings. Such as the Pizza shop incident, a store innocently known to sell some great pizzas. Rumours spread that this shop was in fact the show down of a sex ring scandal involving Hillary Clinton and other famed members. The malinformation spread like wildfire, as a rumour that complex would, and resulted in a shooter to come in one day with a rifle. Luckily, no one was injured. But it is a prime example of malinformation.
In saying all of this, my research in information disorder and such else has shown me a few things. Ill list them here.
Information disorder can be commonly involved in political events such as elections (as we saw with Donald Trump) and allegations. Which makes sense, politics is politics, if things werent to be misconstrued there then where else? Exactly, 'where else', everywhere.
Information disorder and its spread actually causes more harm than good once we disregard the 'entertainment hit' we get from gossip and content. Such as false body imaging, which stronger leads to the rise in eating disorder. Research shows body image and false imaging of standards can impact eating disorders, causing women and men to avenue their lives through unhealthy paths.
Unbelieveable content is in fact, believeable. I saw so many stories that were a big 'wtf!' Moment in my mind. I questioned how on earth could something like this be believeable to not just a few people but hundreds upon millions.
Habits. I learnt this not in my research but in a book i am reading. The spread of information falseness can in fact be linked to our daily habits, the ones like brushing our teeth and how we get out of bed, how we spend our day. A lot of us find a habit much like flossing, in the process of 'fake news'. Habits are a cue, response, reward type deal. And if we are going to put this into media terms we would say this:
Cue — a controversial 'fake news' topic blindly hidden within allegations and media. Such as what i said about Justin Beiber side ways burrito or a news article on mass shootings etc.
Response — share it! The brain almost unknowingly most times, tells you to share it with the intent it will get that reward. Without thinking to much into 'is this real?' You are most likely just going to like and share, right? Everyone has done it.
Reward — likes, comments, shares. Attention. When others see the topic you shared and like it, its almost as great as someone liking your new profile picture. Your opinion, your freedom of speech? It was heard by that person. It was liked and shared therefore you as a person feel good. This is the reward process.
I was amazed just how much i have learnt so far on this topic. And how it has led to the paychological impacts to individuals and surrounding society. I think the fact i can write this essay and link it to a psychological aspect is great since that is something i want to study in the future and i was amazed to find out just how much psychology is involved in things like this.
That is all for now everyone, i hope you found this just as interesting as i did. Who knows, maybe you even share the same view as me. Heres just a little section id like to take for you to get to know me a little, send some asks, it could be on anything i dont mind. Is there a topic youd like to see my opinion on? Ask away. Or do you just want to ask something weird like 'do you put milk in before cereal?' Im fine with that too.
P.s. cereal before milk, always!
#blogger#daily blog#study#blog post#study motivation#studyblr#studylife#studyspiration#blog#psychology#media#social media#controversy#fake news#fake#misinformation#disinformation
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Bounty: Chapter Three
Plot: Olivia starts to grasp the basics of life in Riverdale as she starts to attend college. Evelyn and Quinton struggle to reach a compromise, as a mysterious figure has Olivia on their watch.
A/N: Okie, so I’m sorry this is a day late! But I’ve not been feeling well and haven’t been very inspired. But I ended up writing a longer chapter and I hope you guys enjoy this <3
Words: 3,163
Warnings: Mentions of murder, indications of stalking
Cast // Story Summary // Introduction //Chapter One // Chapter Two
CHAPTER THREE
Fangs walks up to Olivia’s doorstep and quickly knocks on the door, checking his phone to see if he was either too late or too early, time is still something he is still working on. When he hears the door start to unlock, he steps aside and greets her warmly. “Good morning to you, Scarlett. Ready for your first day at school?” He hands Scarlet her very own hoodie for the Riverdale College. “Though this could help with getting into the school spirit. If it’s too big or too small, I can always trade it in for you. I help out with school merchandise sometimes, keeps me sane doing something thats away from my degree.” He chuckles.
“I’d probably do the same.” Olivia slips on the hoodie, seeing it fall a little too big but the extra material made it somewhat more comfortable. “Thanks Fangs. It’s perfect.” She follows him to his car, tossing her bag to the back as she straps on her seatbelt, getting comfy and adjusting the shade to avoid the bright morning Riverdale sun from drying out her eyes.
“Have you decided what it is you want to study?” Fangs questions as he looks over his shoulder as he backs out and starts to drive towards the College.
“Nah, I think I’m just going to give classes a try, here and there and then see where my heart falls.” Olivia shrugs her shoulder as she looks outside, watching the view phase past her. “I have interests in a lot of subjects and topics so it’s hard for me to make an easy decision. Maybe I will even try something new, who knows. All of this is new to me and I might as well take risks while I can, ya know? I don’t know how long I’m going to be here anyways, I don’t want to get too attached to anything.”
He nods to himself as he grips the wheel, stopping at a red light and looking over at Olivia, who rests her head against the window, he sighs softly as the light turns green and starts to drive once more. “Understandable but, word of advice, don’t use that as a way to assure yourself to not enjoy what Riverdale has to offer. Yes, this town may be small and not as exciting as others but you’ve been through a lot and maybe this is the universe’s way to reward you for making it thus far. Your time may be limited here and unpredictable but who knows when you’re going to have the chance to live this freely. I say, take it as you can.”
The rest of the ride is silent, Olivia dwelling deep into her thoughts, Fangs still grasping at the many questions he has about her but one thing is for sure, he commends her for the way she holds herself. Whatever it is that broke her down this way, he could never push himself through it and still go out and experience life. As he parks, Fangs grabs their bags and hands Olivia hers. Both of them walk down towards the main entrance and weave through a few hallways before Fangs stops by her locker. “Do you think I should wear this jacket?” Olivia takes out a black hoodie from her backpack, looking at it before looking up at Fangs, waiting for his comments.
“Why would you want to wear that jacket? It gets hot in here.” Fangs inquires, he looks down at her arms and realizes why. “You want to hide the bruises and cuts, huh?”
Olivia bites at her lip and nods. “I don’t want people to look at me like I’m a freak. You guys already did and I can’t imagine an entire school doing that.”
A pain pangs in Fangs heart hearing her talk, he didn’t consider her to be a freak, he didn’t think of her as someone that has something wrong with her, she’s just someone that’s clearly struggled through hell. It hurt to hear her say that they consider her a freak. She’s nothing near. “Please don’t think that way.” Fangs sucks in a breath as he takes a step closer to her, placing a comforting and reassuring hand on her shoulder, careful to not go anywhere near her bruises. “I don’t consider you a freak, and neither do the others. When we saw you, we were just shocked, shocked at how beat up you look. We were more concerned about who may have done this to you. I’m sorry if we made you feel like a freak show, you aren’t. People will ask questions and look but just know I see your cuts and bruises as Battle Scars. You’re a warrior Scarlett, and you’re here to win.” Fangs grins and takes the hoodie she is holding. “I say rock it. If anyone tries to hurt you, I won’t hesitate to fight.”
Olivia looks up at him, raising an eyebrow at his last statement. “Sweet Pea said you weren’t much of a fighter before and now.”
Fangs chuckles as he throws the hoodie to sling over his shoulder. “I’m here to protect, I’ll do what’s needed to do so.”
She closes her locker and snatches the hoodie from Fangs and ties it around her waist as she follows him to their class. “You do you, Fangs. I can’t stop you and won’t.” Olivia and Fangs sit around one of the lab tables as he slides her his own textbook to take a look at as he takes out his notebook and pencil case, making sure he’s got it all before setting his bag down on the floor. Olivia takes the book closer to herself as she skims through it. “Oh wow, this is….a lot.”
“Tell me about it.” Fangs hands her over the much thinner guide. “This is a heaven. It’s a lot to take in but it’s absolutely fascinating. There’s so much to know and learn about the beautiful creatures around us that we usually don’t take into account and with this knowledge, we can help them when they’re hurt. I once volunteered at an animal hospital and it was so sad seeing how damaged these fur babies were but being able to heal them and give them a second chance at life…” Fangs happily sighs. “…that’s what I live for.”
Olivia’s eyes widen as she nods in approval. “You’re really passionate about that, huh?”
He shrugs his shoulders as he rests his elbows on the table and leans forward a little, scooting his chair with him. “Yeah. I wasn’t too much of a fighter, as Sweets was, mainly because I had the biggest soft side beyond the jacket and Sweet Pea was a lot better at putting up a tough front to cover his soft side. I love to help and bring animals to their full selves again. Giving back, I guess, is something I’ve always wanted to do with my life. Doesn’t sound like it considering I joined a gang at 16.”
“Maybe I can help out, if that’s alright.” Olivia hands back his books, taking out one of her own notebooks. “If I’m going to live the most of my time here, I might as well engage with the community.”
Fangs face lights up immediately. He excitedly reaches into his bag to grab two business cards, scribbling a note on his paper and ripping it out to hand to Olivia. “You should! It’s so rewarding and really gives you a different perspective. I’ve been volunteering there since I started my program and we are always looking for new people to join. We are non-profit and run on donations and amazing volunteers. I can show you the place this weekend if you’d like! Sorry, I’m just excited to have someone else I know being interested in helping out.”
She takes the cards and tucks it safely into the small pocket of her bag. “I’d love that. Thanks. I appreciate.”
“I appreciate you wanting to help out. We’re currently running low on people, any help counts.”
Suddenly Olivia’s phone vibrates violently on the table, she looks down on it and an unknown number pops up but as she takes a closer look, her entire body almost shut down; her expression dropping and her heart stopping. Fangs notices as he gets ready to question her if she’s alright but she quickly excuses herself for a moment before racing out of the room and finding a small, isolated hallway. Olivia answers the phone and looks around attentively to ensure she is alone. “What the hell are you doing calling me, Vincent? This is fucking dangerous, you can blow my cover.”
“Relax. We’re both untraceable. I’m smarter than that.” Vincent states.
“Stop being cocky. This isn’t the time, nor place, to do so. Now, why the hell are you calling me?” Olivia pops her head out and sees the hallway empty.
“Evelyn is going to meet with Quinton today. They’ve placed a bounty on your head and this time, they don’t care if you’re dead or alive. She’s going to try and negotiate a deal with them in exchange for your safety. I’ll let you know how it goes.” Vincent fumbles through some papers as he rests the phone on his shoulder. “So, how’s the small town treating you. Is it weird? Is it cozy? I heard from Evelyn you’re under the protection of some local gang? Seems a little counter-productive if we’re trying to keep you alive for stealing top secret documents from your ex-boyfriends…”
“Just shut up.” Olivia cuts in. “Quinton made his decision. He betrayed us and that’s that.”
“Sorry.” Vincent mumbles. “It’s just, I don’t understand how you were able to walk away and not want to murder his ass the moment you had the chance. The two of you crossed paths so many times, You’ve had your gun against his head, more than twice and not to mention, the time you shot a crossbow arrow at his arm and leg. Don’t you want to incite revenge, especially after what he did?”
It’s true. Vincent is right. As much as the darkness within has wanted to rip apart Quinton, Olivia has managed to suppress it each time realizing that she’ll only be as much of a monster as he is if she murders him. There have been so many nights where she’s dreamed of that very day, the day she kills him. Throwing him off the cliffs, slowly searing a knife right into his core and even planting one in his head with the barrel pressed right up against his skull. “I do, more than anything. Hence why I stole their papers.”
“What were you even going to do with them? As much as I aspire to be as good of a field agent as you, I think I realize the dangers of stealing an agencies documents on the complete roster of their agents. It’s like you’re asking for a war.” Vincent slips the phone to the other side as he organizes a few papers and documents in Evelyn’s office.
“To be honest?” Olivia pauses. “I don’t know.”
Vincent pauses, slamming the document he is holding onto the table as he grabs a hold of his phone. “You didn’t know?” He screeches. “What the hell were you thinking, Olivia?! Are you just asking to be killed because that’s where you’re headed!”
“Maybe this was my revenge. If i managed to get their most prized procession then maybe I could have the upper hand on my part. And blackmail Quinton into doing what I want. At the time, it was fool-proof.”
“It never was!” Vincent exclaims. “Sometimes I wonder how and why Evelyn puts you in the forefront. You’re still young, Olivia. It’s too dangerous for you to be fighting these waters. You’ve got yourself in a bit of a pickle here, my dear. Your actions are both admirable and dumb. Please, just promise that once this all blows over you’ll be decently conscious about what your actions can bring?” Vincent begs.
“Fine.” Vincent lets out a heavy sigh of relief. “Keep me in the loop. I’ve got to go. I’ll talk to you later.” Olivia finally hangs up as she walks into the class just as the teacher is about to call out the attendance. She slides back into her seat next to Fangs. “Sorry about that. It was an emergency.”
“Is everything alright?” Olivia nods. “You made it just in time. Are you ready to learn?”
“More than ever.”
Whitticker Agency Unknown Location
Quinton sits by his office desk, his hands together as he anxiously checks the clock on the wall and the watch on his wrist. Any minute now. The door handle on the door jiggles, snapping his head up he lets out a disappointed breath as he sees Amelie walk in. “They haven’t arrived yet. If that’s what you’re wondering.”
“That’s not what I’m here for.” Amelie rolls her eyes and approaches the desk, handing over a folder to Quinton. “It’s an itinerary of everything your girlfriend stole from us.”
Girlfriend. Quinton angrily takes the folder from her hands as he scowls at her. “She’s not my girlfriend. That part of my life is long gone behind me, the moment I entered that ballroom.” He opens the folder as his eyes scan the extensive list, almost shocked at the extent of it. He only figured that she stole a lot less. “It was initially reported that she only stole the undercover dossier. Why are our 401Ks and weaponry list on here?”
“That was before we were able to determine everything that’s missing.” Amelie leans back on the small seat. “Maybe you should’ve left the Ballroom gig to me. It triggered something in her and now she’s trying to bite back at us because she saw you.”
Quinton momentarily takes his eyes off the documents. “It would’ve aroused more suspicion if I wasn’t. Cormac was expecting me too.”
“Ah yes, our dearest Cormac. He’s still missing, you know? Interesting how Vanguard can conceal an agent but can’t find their own leader. Wonder where he went. I reckon he went insane from seeing his wife killed and is hidden somewhere deep in the woods going coo-coo and drinking animal blood as wine.” Amelie chuckles as she gets up from the seat. “Whatever you and Evelyn are going to converse about, you better step up and earn a point for us because, as I see it, we’re the losers right now and everything we’ve worked on is on the verge of falling apart. For once, don’t act like a heart-broken, revengeful ex and lead this team the way we voted you in for.” As Amelie walks out of the office, Evelyn and Vincent walk by the same time. The two of them share a deadly glare before the door closes behind Vincent.
Quinton tucks away the folder, standing up and shaking Evelyn and Vincent’s hands as the two of them sit. An uncomfortable silence falls between them at first before Evelyn finally speaks. “This is something I never thought I’d ever do. Cop a deal with an ex-agent sitting across me in a rival’s chair.” Evelyn scoffs. “I suggest, after everything you’ve done to this agency, take the Bounty off of Olivia’s head and we’ll return the documents in their entirety straight to your door. It’s a simple move. I’m pretty sure that’s something you can shake your hand to.”
“And I’d assume you’re smart enough to know that it’s not that easy, Evelyn.” Quinton pulls out a sheet of paper from his desks holder and reads it out. “Twelve Whitticker Agents confirmed dead, more than 25 minority injured and around six critically injured and three of which are still being treated at the hospital. More than 450,000 dollars in damage and around 20,000 dollars worth of equipment stolen and used, only 1,000 of which we were able to recover using a further 890 dollars to either replace parts and or repair them.” He hands the paper over to Vincent. “Olivia did more than just steal the identity of all our agents, she has caused more damage than the documents can.”
Evelyn sighs, handing the paper back to him. “You know, I’d figure that after what you did to her, you’d at least be rational on how you punish her for breaking in and stealing your things. Don’t you think you’ve caused the girl enough damage, Quinton? I mean for gods sake, you initiated the brutal execution of her mothers murder that she witnessed AND now her father has been missing and now this! God knows how long her own sanity is going to last before it kills her!” Evelyn shouts. “You are the very reason she got driven to do this. You’ve brought this upon yourself. Don’t you dare try to play the sympathy card because you have not shown any remorse or sorry in two years.”
“I had to do what I had to do and it wasn’t me that called for her murder.” Quinton defends himself. “I didn’t know that was going to happen. I was just as horrified.”
“Bullshit and you know it. You have forever engrained a title of complete and utter stupidity in the eyes of the Vanguard’s. You’re a traitor. A fake. A useless, spineless devil! You’ve caused enough damage, Quinton. Is that not enough?!” Quinton falls silent and Vincent too, caught between their feud. “I swear to god Quinton, if you lay one more scratch on my agent, it’d be I who personally kills you. So, this is your last chance. Take my deal, or I will threaten to declare war on you.”
Riverdale
Olivia sits comfortably on the stands as she watches the female college football team kick around. The sun is shining perfectly bright, a view she isn’t so used to enjoying. She picks up a few chips from the bag and stuffs them in her mouth as she begins to sketch the view, her eyes squinting due to the brightness. Fangs walks up the steps and takes a seat next to her, eating a few snacks of his own. “Are you ready to head back home?”
“Yeah, if not then I’d want to stay here forever.” Olivia laughs lightly as she starts to pack up her belongings. As the two of them start heading down the stands, Olivia felt the familiar burning feeling of watching eyes on her but when she scans the area and sees nothing, she throws it off as being paranoid and follows Fangs towards his car.
Hidden in the distance, between bushes, a mysterious figure smirks to themselves as they manage to evade being spotted. They raise take one last look at Olivia as she looks around before entering a vehicle. The figure notes down Fang’s license plate and takes a few photos before proudly walking away. The clock starts ticking.
TAGLIST: @i-am-de-queen @serpentbucky @inlovewsweetpea @mildly-human @spam-to-follow @superhalsteads
Want to be added to the taglist? Just message me and I’ll add you into the next chapter!
#riverdale#riverdale fanfic#riverdale imagine#riverdale x oc#original character#original character fanfic#riverdale fanfiction#fanfiction#spy fic#fangs forgarty#spy fanfiction
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Stop Asking Women Why They Are Traveling Alone
All Photos Courtesy Of Audrey Farnsworth
Yes, I am here by myself. No, I am not upset about this.
When I tell people that I travel by myself for work (I’m a travel editor, after all), I am met with mixed responses, from, “Oh, cool!” (the general and normal response to hearing about anyone’s job) to, “WHAT? YOU GO ALONE???” (usually from men! Not all men–but enough of them for it to be a noticeable trend).
There are a thousand million reasons a woman (or any person) might choose to travel alone. I, personally, travel by myself frequently for work. I’ve grown to love it, and over the past three years, I’ve become quite content with extended periods of alone time–it’s taught me to truly enjoy my own company and, most importantly, to trust myself in new situations and places.
As I went on more frequent solo trips (and posted updates to my personal Instagram account), I noticed a common occurrence: people–sorry, men, it was absolutely always men–asking me very leading questions about how it must feel to travel alone. And if it wasn’t a question, it was a direct statement as to how I must be feeling (i.e. “You must be so lonely being there by yourself!”).
This made me think about the politics of being alone. As far as being “uncoupled,” there is a lot of stigma in it for women. Historically, women have been looked down upon by society for being unpartnered. Derogatory terms such as “spinsters” and “old maids,” are reserved for unwed women of a certain age, while uncoupled older men, on the other hand, are referred to as “bachelors” or, say, “silver foxes.” The framing of these titular discrepancies, though not particularly nefarious, illuminates another lens of patriarchy—one where solitary women are to be pitied or scorned, while men are celebrated.
So, I have decided to go ahead and compile and answer a few of those leading questions about how it must feel to travel alone—the ones I have actually been asked, by various men–here.
When I am asked this question, I answer straight away that it’s not a vacation I’m taking—it’s work. I highly doubt that a man traveling solo (business or otherwise) would, A.) be asked whether or not he’s sad to be solo in a destination because it’s considered “romantic” or B.) be asked this question at all.
It seems inherently sexist that women are asked when traveling solo if she is upset about visiting a “romantic” location sans partner because the concept of romance, in general, is a thing people assume women to be obsessed with, or at the very least, predisposed by.
Sad and solitary are not the same thing, actually.
Secondly–what? Wait, so just because I’m alone in a place deemed “romantic” (which, sorry, can be literally anywhere—something is romantic if you are experiencing romance), you assume that I am… upset about being by myself? I am enjoying this beautiful place I don’t live in! Also, let’s talk some more about the term “romantic,” please. Just because something is considered “romantic” doesn’t mean a person shouldn’t experience it without a partner. Yes, Venice is very romantic and a perfect setting for couples. However, I don’t define myself by relationship status, and therefore do not define an entire city by it–no matter how much of a “perfect honeymoon locale” it may be to some. Romance is subjective, and only an adjective you can use to describe something when you’re in a certain state of mind. As I’m not in that state of mind on these trips, I’m not moping about Venice like, “Wow, this place is garbage because I’m uncoupled,” but rather I’m walking around with an open-mouthed, weird grin saying, “This place is pretty and I don’t live here!”
INSIDER TIPGoing on a gondola ride with a partner is equally as dumb/amazing as going on one by yourself.
For obvious reasons, to start: my friends, family, and potential +1s have jobs and they understandably can’t necessarily drop everything and pay a bunch of money to go with me to wherever my work is sending me or I am choosing to explore for a couple of days. Also, when I am traveling for work, I’m… well, I’m working! It’s very different than going on a vacation in that I need to be professional when I’m there and I can’t put a friend’s enjoyment as a top priority, so it’s generally easier to go it alone anyway.
Literally, a man asked me this on a first date. Yikes! To you, sir, I say: Well, first of all, stay away from me. That is quite the projection! And second of all: Sad and solitary are not the same thing, actually. During these “solitary” times, I am teaching myself how to get around in the world and do so without anybody’s help. During these “solitary” times, I am writing and creating. During these “solitary” times, I am thinking and being and learning and enjoying my surroundings, and also making myself laugh and having a REAL good time, because, actually, as it turns out, I am pretty damn fun, even when I’m by myself. Traveling alone helped teach me to enjoy spending time by myself, which was something that I didn’t always know how to do. So, no, it’s not sad. It’s actually pretty rewarding.
Oh, and in many cases, during these “solitary” times—and I cannot state this enough—I AM WORKING. People take business trips all the time. Why would it be sad? Why wouldn’t it be exciting or affirming of my own personal success or whatever?
How will I ever enjoy this all on my own?! How?!
My friends are at home, man, and I plan on hanging out with them when I get back into town. Good lord.
Again, this is not a question I could see someone asking a man, but this time, I (unfortunately) understand why: Women traveling by themselves are much more vulnerable than men in terms of safety, as there are countless horror stories from women (who did not even necessarily put themselves in “harms way”) being attacked while traveling. But traveling by myself has taught me many safety lessons and made me a much more cautious traveler. However, the answer to this question is: Yes! I do feel unsafe while traveling alone—not all the time, but periodically. Thing is, I also feel unsafe walking down the street in my own city periodically, as well, so this doesn’t just apply to travel, unfortunately. Feeling unsafe in certain places or at certain times is just part of being a woman.
At the end of the day, as my mother always told me, “We’re all in this together, by ourselves.”
Is it usually men that make me question my safety during these times? Nine times out of ten, yes—that’s been my experience. As it shouldn’t be our responsibility as women to have to go to extra measures to keep ourselves safe while traveling alone, we don’t have any other choice. Because we also shouldn’t have to forgo the ability to see the world.
Let me get one thing straight: People need to stop pairing being alone (and traveling alone) with loneliness. It’s very important for anyone to learn how to be alone–and, honestly, traveling alone teaches you a lot, and QUICK. At the end of the day, as my mother always told me, “We’re all in this together, by ourselves.” As important as it is to cultivate meaningful relationships and connections with other people, it is equally as important to nurture one with yourself. Traveling alone has had a big hand in my own journey of learning how to trust myself, and it’s shown me that I am capable of figuring out many a dire situation.
I’ve been lost in the middle of the night in foreign cities. I’ve missed flights and thought I was to be completely stranded somewhere. I have been in situations that Past-Me would’ve assumed I would be so stressed out that I would’ve just straight up fainted, but you know what? I didn’t. Perhaps, at first, I did it kicking and screaming (a.k.a. crying a lot) but over time I stopped kicking, screaming, AND crying, and learned to pull myself together and just get it done. This lesson is invaluable. This lesson stays with me for the rest of my life.
So, now, whenever I get a comment from a dude about how I must be sad while traveling alone, I always say the same thing: Hahaha. No, dude. I’m fine.
The post Stop Asking Women Why They Are Traveling Alone appeared first on Tripstations.
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elle1991's 2018 round-up!
Wow, it's hard to believe the year is almost over. It's been an exciting one, so let's take a look back on what's happened, and what's coming up in 2019!
The stats...
In 2018:
I wrote 9 stories
I wrote 313,591 words
88,619 of you read my stories
The fics...
Here is a full list of the stories I wrote in 2018:
Steve And Bucky's Kinky Alphabet (176,544 words) - 26 chapters of explicit porn-with-plot featuring Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes. Each chapter focuses on a different kink, with one chapter for every letter of the alphabet. Or: the one where JARVIS goes rogue and kidnaps the Avengers until they can sort their mental health out, and Steve and Bucky fuck a lot and fall in love.
I Like Cats, Too (10,526 words) - The Avengers are more than just a team; they are a family. When that family is torn apart by the split caused by the Sokovia Accords, Natasha regresses into herself and lapses into a prolonged period of silence. As Team Cap hide away in Wakanda under the protection of T'Challa, will anyone be able to help Natasha overcome her depression and mutism? Enter a very special cat named Midnight...
At Your Service (12,931 words) - Clint and Natasha lose a bet. For the next 24 hours, they have to dress up in matching outfits and do everything Phil Coulson says... Or: The one where Phil gets Clint and Natasha to dress up and act out some of his many, many Captain America fanboy fantasies.
Secrets (40,706 words) - Bucky Barnes is a man with a lot of secrets: he is a member of the elite Avengers squad; he is 100 years old; for 70 years, he was HYDRA's weapon, carrying out countless acts of horrific violence whilst under their control. Nevertheless, despite his dark past, he is trying to move on with his life, working hard as a SHIELD agent and even developing a relationship with Tony Stark, a fellow SHIELD agent who heads up the R&D division of the Tech department. All seems to be going well, until a security breach at SHIELD threatens to expose Bucky's past as HYDRA's secret weapon. With one SHIELD agent already murdered by the mystery thief, it is a race against time to find the individual responsible and put a stop to their sinister campaign. Just how long are Bucky's various secrets going to remain secret...?
The Adventures Of Steve Rogers, Newsboy Extraordinaire (11,161 words) - 7-year-old Steve Rogers does not have many friends. The other children in his class think of him as the weird kid who can't speak. His next-door neighbour Bucky Barnes doesn't care about Steve's Selective Mutism though. He thinks Steve is awesome and is willing to fight anyone who says otherwise. When Steve gets a part-time job as a newsboy, it triggers a chain of events that no one could have predicted. A mystery robber is targeting local businesses, putting Steve right in the firing line. Will Steve find the courage within himself to save the day - and even find his voice?
The Black Widow Ice Cream Parlour (3,746 words) - Natasha Romanoff is used to being the least celebrated, least appreciated Avenger - which is why it comes as a shock to stumble upon an ice cream parlour devoted to her whilst on holiday in an obscure corner of Italy. Or: The one where Natasha meets one of the people whose lives she has saved, and finally gets the appreciation she deserves.
Love Is Blind (14,512 words) - After a mission goes horribly wrong, Natasha Romanoff is left completely blind. Whilst SHIELD scientists desperately seek a cure, Natasha struggles to come to terms with her disability. With boyfriend Clint Barton by her side, can she come to terms with a world without sight?
Black Widow By Day, Black Kitten By Night (6,164 words) - Natasha has a kink for kitten pet play. Clint is only too happy to oblige. Or: the one where Natasha dons her cat ears, Clint ties up his pet, and hardcore, steamy sex ensues.
Time After Time (work in progress) - Steve Rogers, Iraq war veteran and long-time loner, feels like his life is stuck in a rut. With no family and a grand total of two friends, he spends most of his spare time alone, painting, jogging or having flashbacks of the war. Which is why when Natasha invites him to a masquerade party at a kink club, Steve throws caution to the wind and decides to give it a go. There he meets the mysterious Winter Soldier, but as things blossom between them, so does a dangerous undercurrent. Both are harbouring a big secret from the other, and the fallout could have lethal consequences...
Captain America Reverse Big Bang ❤️
I cannot talk about 2018 without mentioning the incredible @capreversebb. It was my first ever time taking part in a fandom event and I want to thank the organisers for all their hard work because I had an amazing time! I wrote fics for two incredible artists (@massivespacewren and @ranaraeuchle) and made friends with a bunch of amazing creative people along the way. @chiyume, @velvetjinx, @whatthefoucault, @thelittleblackfox, @cryo-bucky, @buckities and so SO many more folks, my life is richer with you guys in it. Thank you for being so lovely and friendly and just fantastic human beings. You guys rock and I love you all ❤️
Coming in 2019...
I look forward to continuing to entertain you guys in 2019 with more stories! Here's what's in the pipeline:
Finish writing Time After Time (Estimated completion date, based on posting one chapter per week: early May 2019)
Dear Steve (Part I of The Stucky Letters)
Dear Bucky (Part II of The Stucky Letters)
UNTITLED (A Clint Barton origin story based in my Fearless universe)
Like the sound of these fics? If you want to get an email whenever I post something new, then click on my AO3 profile and become a user subscriber.
My personal life...
2018 has been quite a special one in terms of my personal life, too.
At work, I got promoted... twice!
And the one I'm most proud of: I overcame a lifelong dental phobia! Honestly, it has been a rollercoaster journey, but now I've finally done it, I feel an incredible amount of relief and empowerment. If you're struggling with something similar, it might be useful to (1) try to identify exactly what you're afraid of, (2) try to identify what things will help to reduce that fear, and (3) just take things one little step at a time. Keep chipping away at it and, most importantly, don't give up! Good luck, with whatever it may be. You deserve to live a life without fear and if someone as once-terrified as me can do it, it is absolutely within your ability to do it too ❤️
A special message for you...
And last but certainly not least, I cannot talk about 2018 without giving a huge hats-off to you guys, my readers! I love writing and would do it even without an audience, but the fact that there are thousands of you out there who read my fics makes it a million times more rewarding!
THANK YOU for your readership, your loyalty, your kudos, your comments, your love, your excitement and your enthusiasm for my stories. You make writing so much more fun, and knowing that you guys enjoy reading my works and that these stories touch your lives in some small way is just such a humbling and wonderful experience.
I look forward to sharing more stories with you next year, and reading your thoughts in the comments section of AO3! And if you've been a silent lurker so far... come and say hi! I'm not scary, I promise, and I love to connect with readers ❤️
All the best for 2019, folks. See you on the other side!
Lots of love,
Eli
xxx
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