#but i appreciate every word you said

[mollymarymarie]

I completely understand your rightful aversion to JKR and her horrendous views, but oh, selfishly I really wish you would continue to write Wolfstar. You write them so beautifully, and I think your art highlights, celebrates and encourages queer love stories like no other. Your work is certainly very important to me personally and helped me through some things in my personal life, and I'm truly sorry to hear you feel like you have to give it up because of her. She's taken so much from all of us - if writing Wolfstar brings you joy, why let her steal that from you too? (This is all said with the greatest love and admiration, of course)

oh friend 🥹🥹 you are so kind, thank you

honestly, that was why i KEPT writing wolfstar, as a big queer fuck you to jk for being such a fucking garbage can of a person. i kept writing them because sometimes, people told me the same thing you did, that my stories helped them/you through personal shit. i kept writing because i knew she could never take them away from us, not the wonderful myriad of versions that WE created of them.

and then i got shit for being over 30 and writing fanfic, being over 30 and writing HP fanfic, writing fanfic in general, writing HP fanfic when jk is such a piece of shit. so, unfortunately, it wasn't JUST jk's transphobic bullshit that made me shy away, it was other people.

i know this probably makes me sound childish (mean people on the internet were picking on me 😫) but i'm just a person with a regular job and i was doing it for fun. posting my words for fun. so when i started associating that activity with those mean people on the internet, it gave me more stress than anything else. i think i'm still easing back into writing, in general. long periods go where i don't write at all. i still struggle with analyzing everything i say or do.

but i'll never stop loving wolfstar. it was my biggest hyperfixation for so long, i don't think that will ever go away. and maybe i will get back into writing them, i'm not sure. if i do, it will be because of messages like yours that gave me a reason to remember why i started <3

[c28hunter]

Do you know that I absolutely love Nace Jordan?

That I absolutely love how kind hearted he is? How skilled he is? How he smiles with his eyes? How he laughs with his whole chest? How he cares for his bandmates? How lovely he startes at them and gives them his love?

Do you know that I love Nace Jordan's body? Do you know that I love every single inch of it? From the tattoo sleeve, through the tits (I am feral) till his thighs? Do you know that I think he's one of the most beautiful men on earth?

I love Nace Jordan for simply existing.

If you didn't know that, now you do

[sky-squido]

i, like every other fic author in existence, love getting comments from people who enjoyed my work. i don't care if your comment is "late" (that's so weird to me like it's literature—do you apologize to homer for being late to reading the odyssey?) or "unintelligible" (late night commenters, english language learners, people who feel like they "just aren't that good with words", believe me, i entirely understand what you mean and appreciate it immensely), or anything else that you feel might make your comment 'not good enough'. i love all of the comments i receive and i am eternally grateful to all of you for your continued support.

and yeah, i've read fics where i felt like adding a comment would be doing the fic a disservice because there was nothing that could be said that wouldn't cheapen or patronize the magnum opus i'd just witnessed. in instances like this, that is exactly what i say in the comment: "there's nothing i can say that doesn't do this work of art a disservice. thank you for writing this."

actually, now that i think about it, there are a bunch of ao3 comments i've gotten that i still haven't replied to because i felt any thanks i could give would be inadequate. i should really get around to replying because i want them to know how spellbound they left me. i love you all, have i ever mentioned that?

all of that being said, i would like to make a public service announcement!

at least under default settings, ao3 authors do get notified every time you edit a comment. i've accidentally hit send too early before, or realized i forgot something i wanted to say, i get it, i really do. i have edited many comments in my day.

but you don't have to do this. really, it's okay. most of the time i honestly can't tell what the difference is. i'm not going to think worse of you for having typos in your comments because i guarantee that there were more in the fic you just read sfkljghsl

also these edits were over the course of twenty full minutes. i got another email while writing this post and had to update the image. please do not spend 20 minutes agonizing over your comment and changing the capitalization and adding a few words. it's okay, i promise. i love your comment, and i'm very very grateful for it, regardless of how "polished" it is. i'm not your english teacher in disguise.

tl;dr, i love you all and i hope you don't feel anxiety or a compulsion towards perfectionism in my ao3 comments section. i won't judge you, i promise <3

[ishikawayukis]

welcome back kang younghyun 💕

[loving-jack-kelly]

i think. for spot being in love is the biggest and most unexpected thing in the world to him he didn't expect it he doesn't quite believe it's real he can't get over it. and for race it's another tuesday. and this means that race says I love you first because it's not hard for him and race says it more often because it's not hard for him and race says it more casually because it's not hard for him but spot says it and feels it from his head to his toes and there are not three words in the English language that mean more to him than "I love you" to say. or to hear.

[vampiricgf]

I feel like this rn <3

[origami-butterfly]

Ok but sometimes the most infuriating political stance a person can have is point blank refusing to discuss social issues with you when you bring it up because they "don't want to get political". Don't open the tags unless you want to read a rant

[loppiopio]

the chances of the people seeing this aren't super likely so this is highly inefficient but i'm too afraid to approach people personally…. yet i've been burning with the need to express my gratitude for the tags i've received individually somehow and figured, i could do it the way i do best. in the tags 😅

(sorted by most recent) (i capped the limit hard here) (some ✂️✂️ had to be done 😔) (i still like this format a lot though) (might do this again in the future idk would people like that??) (i hope it's not mortifying for anyone……..)

it's sorta the way i like it, indirect and unimposing, even if it's kinda. wieldy. but it's just on my blog so anything goes right? although in saying that, i am open to being imposed on. like if someone wants to talk about aci or something, like other fic?? i'm a big fic fiend. or anything else lol not sure what else you'd wanna chat about since so much of the stuff i've put out is just. about fic. but hey, if you're a person i don't mind being approached :>

(lol the way i've made this like a *throws out a bunch of paper slips* find your's 🎉) (might be obnoxious hm) (sorry...) (find your's if you want though 🫡)

[bisexualseraphim]

Very kindly begging ‘trans allies’ to stop forgetting about us and using non-inclusive language.

Just as a fairly common example I see here: “I wouldn’t know anything about dick because I’m a lesbian 🤪” okay but that has nothing to do with you being a lesbian. If you’re not into dick that’s totally fine but you being a lesbian is separate from that. You can absolutely be a lesbian and like dick or have experience with dick. Just say you’re not into dick and it would get the point across the same without alienating transfemmes.

As I saw someone say earlier (lost the post before I could save it, sorry), using inclusive language isn’t all about not hurting trans and intersex people’s feelings. It’s about making sure we’re not forgotten. And when you claim to be an ally but constantly and casually exclude us from the conversation, it comes across like you only remember we exist when you think you have a good reason to. “Oh yeah trans rights and fuck JKR!” And then you still constantly use cisnormative language and fall into bioessentialism.

Stop forgetting about trans and intersex people when it doesn’t suit you to remember. Stop erasing us. Please.

[itcouldwearyourskin]

.

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

I love you. How do you always manage to answer each and every ask with that same refreshing excitement. I love you. How do you always manage to talk with us anons as if we have always been long time best friends. I love you. How do you always manage to pour your whole soul into every piece of writing. I love you. How do you always manage to alter my brain chemistry everytime I read what you write. I love you. How do you always manage to give me the feels even when I think that nothing could ever touch me anymore. I love you. How do you always manage to make me want to talk to you even though I know nothing about you. I love you. How do you always manage to make me smile every single time I read your rants. I love you. How do you always manage to be the reason for me to look forward to opening Tumblr everyday. I love you, with no ulterior motive, just from human to human because everyones attractive, you included. I simply hope you know that.

🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🍦🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🍦🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 ignore the ice creams idk how they got in there BUT ANON… this is such a heartfelt lovely note i had to take a breather…….. i feel a little like i’m being serenaded…. do u happen to know ur ring size by any chance 😳😳

no but genuinely this is SO sweet of you i think it made me shy so my brain is kinda. broken rn. BUT I’M VERY VERY TOUCHED i’ve said it before i think but i’m sooooo lucky w my anons???? you’re all so sweet?????? i imagine u as little tiny puppies that show up to my doorstep with letters T—T… i have a parasocial connection to every single one of my anons actually i love all of You specifically <33333

AND i’m so happy that my blog can bring you some comfort/joy!!! that’s all i could hope for!!!! :’3 this really does mean the world to me….. you can’t see me anon but i am in fact tearing up a bit. i love you sm!!!!! and i hope you have the most wonderful day or night a person can have !!! <33333

[shandykey]

sigh, time to get engaged I guess....

[dwellerinroots]

Trinkets

Just a short little story. What are you doing here?! It's untagged. Begone, unless you know the password!.. Oh, you do? Fine, just follow me under the cut...

Wood shavings had gathered around the floor, discarded dust that mirrored the weather outside. Most of the people he'd met fought it well enough; But there was a point in the relentless advance of white powder where – No matter how early, no matter how prepared – There was nothing to be done to prevent the snow from piling up, from overwhelming, from hiding everything beneath. Landscape became solid white, people hid indoors with their fires and their loved ones, and waited until it disappeared – though it never did. In this country, where it was never truly warm, tomorrow's weather would be the same. As it always, and always would be, even if the sun rose out from behind a cloud, and the snow never fell another day in his life. Scritch, mewled the knife gently, as it cut it's way through wood. Tertius had tried several different carves; each one wasn't quite right, and he'd set them aside. A tiny grouping of tiny forms, watching him with eyeless and unfinished faces. If they were judging, whispered a quiet voice, perhaps that too, was a comfort. The back of his hands had grown paler, here, too. Place had a way of leeching out colour; you started to forget what it was, until you saw the bright rise of mountain flowers bloom briefly, falter, and fade. It was a vivid explosion that your mind scarcely had time to register – He lost concentration, and the knife struck deep. Cursing contently, he put the latest failure to his side, and seized another small block. Aspen wood was plentiful here, and if he'd been slightly younger, his hands wouldn't have shaken so much – a lie, even as it was halfway to his mind as a convenient justification. But the labour was pleasant. Each failure carried with it no real cost, and brought him slightly closer to the results he desired – probably. Probably. Even if there was as much point to the work as in challenging winter itself. As the fire spat embers, and with nobody present to see him in the tiny little cottage, he considered chucking a few of the failures in with the childish grin known to any who occasionally made up elaborate stories for the demise of old toys. But the hairs on the back of his hand stood out against bronzed and weathered flesh, and the silly desire fled as quickly as it had came over him. Fortunately, too; The door swept open, carrying with it all the cold weather that had been locked out.

All the frigid tendrils of winter crept in, and he glowered at them – also, the entrant. “Wassail, as they say! Hrmn, looks as if I caught you doing something, should I be leaving..?” “No.” He answered to the bundle of robes in the rough shape of an Argonian, and then clarified. “Last thing I want is anyone out there; in that. Least of all you, but not anyone in particular. Was tempted to close the door on you, though.” “Brutal and unkind, well, if you're inviting – Hey, now! Who gave you permission to use that?” Strides always left a clutter of tools wherever she was, and wherever she had been. He hadn't documented them all; had no desire to. But he didn't have a good wood-carving knife, and it was very clearly a good blade. With a sigh, he ran calloused fingers through a fringe of short-trimmed black hair, ignoring the strands of grey. “Mmn. Sorry.” “Oh, don't – worry about it, what's mine is yours, bahahaha, ah – You aren't – you're really torn up about it, huh? Ah, er, well...” The briefest cloud of an awkward moment hung between them. It dissipated just as quickly, however; you had less time for these things, the older you got, and the more familiar you became with how people were. Didn't take a genius to know it clearly had mattered to her, and of course he'd gone and done something without thinking, but... Strides had already moved on, her layered hoods down as she buzzed around the basin, washing greenery and placing it aside. He watched the blur of motion as the faded blush of blue around white scales danced from basin to table, hid the small smile when she looked his way – and returned to carving. “Good day, then.” “Yep, yep. Best day in a long while, I'd say! You know, not like it's even a par-ticularly important day or anything, but... Hmn, and what might these be?” Instead of dinging his latest attempt, Tertius set it down at a small – And equally dented – Table the lay beside him. Pretending to grumble, he folded his arms across his chest, only to let them reach for the fire. “Well, don't blame the artist. Each one was supposed to be you.” Once she'd finished howling with hoarse laughter, lidding her eyes and bursting into laughter again, having possessed the decency to look only slightly chastened, Strides nodded authoritatively, taking one of the miniatures in open palm. “I see, I see. I really hope this isn't how I look in your eyes!” Perhaps someone else would've found reason to lose heart, but – There was no-one else here, and he could risk it. With a wry smile, Tertius shook his head. “Used to be better at it. Carve enough pila, though, and everything starts to turn into one. Kind of a poor Heart's Day present, but I had a lot of fun.” “Hmn.” She didn't reply at first; not to any one particular thing he'd said. And, with her back turned to him, working one of the aspen figures over and over, it was impossible to glance into her eyes or determine her expression... That too, was fine. “I like each and every one a lot. You're going to have make a lot more, though. Wait. Unless you've given these out to old Legion buddies who all turned up dead. I'm just superstitious enough that I'd like to avoid any potentially cursed items – “ He snorted, cricked his neck to the side, and stood up – walking over to her side. “No curses here, ma'am. I do think a friend of mine sold his; High Rock. Collectors apparently like this sort of thing. Might be able to make a profit – “ “How convenient that we're in Camlorn right now!” “ – Ignoring that... Would've tried to find flowers, too. Not big on ceremony, but.” but he'd wanted to. Strides turned to her side, to face him. The white of her maw was stretched in the slightest of smirks, but – It shouldn't have taken anyone who knew her to know that she must be thinking of a hundred other things, as well.

Even so...

“Aren't you a fortunate one, then. I've already been gathering flowers, some of them edible, some of them potentially dinner. See, I got to thinking that if flowers are romantic, eating them has to be twice as romantic!”

“Seems reasonable.” Her clawed fingers eased an incomplete figurine against faded white, before setting it down as he replied. He placed his palm to the back of her hand, and held it there;

And if they were silent, for awhile, that was fine, too.

“... Anyway, the truth is that I've been – thinking a lot. I'd wanted to surprise you a bit, but I couldn't think of anything you like – “ “You.” He answered shortly, to a sputtering and incensed reaction that could barely be called speech.

“That's all fine and well and good! But I meant – things! Material things, gifts – anything, really. And then my mind wandered a bit, and...” “Mmn. Should I go stoke the fire a bit?” “Please. Hope you're looking forward to a hearty stew on Heart's Day!” And naturally, he was. He'd made crumbly cakes with honeyed glaze for dessert, but they weren't –

Nothing here was entirely the same, and the snow continued to fall outside.

Their conversation fell as well, but the silence was comforting.

With the two of them in constant motion, anyone watching might have seen a cottage and known it as a place where smoke rose from chimney and folk lived;

Not phantasms, not ghosts, but people.

It was only some hours later, as the evening had bore down with all the force that winter held, that the quiet warmth begin to recede –

A bit, only a bit, and yet something that could not go unnoticed.

“Here we are then! All the High Culture of all Tamriel!” Strides-Elsewhere said spectacularly, over two wooden bowls of mixed green stew and herbs, some slightly withered winter flowers, and a sea of poorly carved wooden charms. He hadn't meant to cry; but it was how it was.

Being able to cry honestly is a sign of trust, and nothing more.

“... Sorry, I'm sure you must abhor high culture, then...” “Mmn. No. Just happy.”

“Yeah. Me too. … Me too.”

But of course, an even more painful intimacy is knowing when those you love aren't;

And when, like the snowfall burying the next day, and the day beyond it, there simply isn't anything to be done.

Even such moments fade.

“... Nnf. You know I – Here's a Heart's Day story for you. There was a girl, had a crush on. Wouldn't have worked out, she was taller then me – “

“Oh?!”

Strides, who was (of course) taller, had grown instantly interested in the tale, and he felt a momentary prideful grin slip easily across his face as he wiped the remains of tears from under dark green eyes.

“Yep. Anyway. Cult said, love is basically good. And I thought – Good way to win a lover, right, was a serenade – “ “Oh, no - “ “Shush, now. You're spoiling the story.” Making a clatter as she dropped her wooden spoon to the table, Strides stuck a clawed finger towards him, accusatively. “It's your story! I can't possibly spoil it!” “Aha. But what if that's not true – sorry, I'll go on. Fun teasing you.” “It is.” (Said Strides, with unconcealed pride in something very few would've been proud about; But, with all the good grace of a gentle victor, allowed his further tale-telling.) “Right. So. Snuck under her cell, and by 'snuck' I mean, made an awful din. Even the half-deaf priest of Arkay heard me, I'm sure. Poem was good; my reading...” He smiled in reflection. (A little proud, himself.) “Anyway, she was the only person who couldn't hear it. Thought a wild cat or something had parked outside the window. Got an bronze water-kettle thrown upside my head. … So, I'm saying, that's about what I expect from you, this Heart's Day.” For whatever reason, for reasons that hardly mattered, they turned to the window. Snow had grown so tall that the last of the dwindling light seemed stretched out, beyond. It would be hidden soon, and only twilight would remain. But twilight did not need to be a curse. Very slowly, Strides looked back at him, and spoke – And if her voice was tender, and the rasping gentleness of her words made it clear that... No longer were they talking about prior things, that too was fine. “I'm not going to throw a kettle at you, now or in the future.” “Mmn. I – I made desserts, too. Not my best work – “ “At least as good as your carvings.” “... Perhaps so. Anyway. I thought we could share them, and perhaps a few more stories.” He had turned to fetch them; left to wonder what her garnet-coloured eyes saw in his back, even as he once again was left without the reassuring smile that so often graced her snout – even when it accompanied nothing reassuring, at all. “I'd like that a lot. But you have to know – I only know sad stories.” “Fine by me; might change the ending a bit. Bit of a brat like that.” “... Go on, then.” The cakes were crumbled, and slightly burnt; The honey tasted like it had been kept in crystal for many years. The snow had buried the last of the light entirely, and only the faintest glint of fire and candle kept the room lit. But they spoke well into the evening, or past it, and if the sounds of quiet laughter were proof of life, then not all the cold in the world had hidden it away;

And so it was that a celebration was kept, and passed, and the next day begin -

Much as things were, and are, and have always been.

[doinggreat]

"i like this player! he is doing great! he has the potential to be one of the greats"

random weirdo: "bUT MESSIIIII? MESSI WON 37 BALLON D'ORS AND 462 INDIVIDUAL AWARDS!!!"

can we not bring up messi in every single conversation jfc there's a new generation of players and you cant compare them. they're playing a different style of football in completely different environments with different players. no one is disputing messi's success but he doesnt have to be brought up in every football related conversation. sorry i had to vent somewhere

☝🏼☝🏼☝🏼

THANK YOU 🙏🏼

i dont even want to compare them, cause imo they’re different in many ways as you said. i think it’s also funny that people always love to compare messi with current players but not the past

[tbcanary]

i say if the arrow family being together will cause some great disaster we should let it happen. it’s about time they got to give everyone else a massive headache.

[purring-tiefling]

not vent but vent. like. i think i would attribute anything negative to venting. anyways it's in the tags