#but then i always have to check my own damn formatting bc i post like twice a year. oops.

[aseplant]

otiose

“Okay, sure, still—you shouldn’t… do that, Min.” He doesn’t even look at her. “Why?” (Because what does pain even mean anyway, if you’re the only one who will ever remember?)

surprise - ep.68 min & sayeon, now beta read! ily hake.

[invisiblequeen]

Didn't even know this existed until one of my faves posted...

@pamsimmerstories : I've been obsessed with their landgraab gen 2 story since i stumbled upon it a couple of months ago. I'm constantly checking for updates and the one day I don't is when they upload a whole handful of posts! But I've been with them since this one couple I won't name was in teenager mode, and now that couple has three darn kids and one of them is already in child mode. I'm not ready to see time move on! I'm not ready to see their parents meet the grim reaper! I've gotten too attached!

@samssims : Yes, my contestant for the Mildred BC didn't stay long, but I love the concept of a Challenge like this for an elder sim who used to be a star back in the day looking for love after two divorces. I'm eager to see who wins!

@lindyloosims : Let's just say I'm lovestruck over luka, his personality, his rosy cheeks, his quirks and his interactions with the contestants here to win his heart. Lindyloo is great with the dialogue and narration--it keeps me engaged as hell. Also her simself is the host of the BC and I just love that detail!

@saruin : One of the first cc creators I found when i discovered cc at all. Her creativity knows no bounds, and the presets she's created have helped expand my own creativity when it comes to making sims. More often than not you'll find at least one thing of hers in any post I make. Hell, she made a set of teeth with color swatches for the TONGUE. How can I not "stan?"

@cinamun : Things Fall Apart, but not my commitment to this woman's story. I wasn't there when it first started all those years ago, but dammit, i'm here now (since dira's graduation arc) and i'm not going anywhere. From the dialogue, to the characters, to the style of shots themselves, she literally has me in a chokehold. And she's the one who was wheezing and screaming over Kendrick performing Not Like Us fifty times on Juneteenth! If that doesn't cement her as an icon IDK what does! (ironic that hers was the first tumblr faves post I saw that led to my own lol)

@cawthorntales : You all know I live for BC challenges. This man right here never, ever, EVER stops delivering on those. EVER. He always has an established storyline for the character he provides us to make a sim for, as well as a funny dialogue between said sim and the "cameraman" to start it off. I need for more people to know who he is so we can get MORE contestant for his challenges so I can witness MORE of my sims in his gameplay!!!

@akitasimblr : Found her during the Dreadful BC Challenge and haven't looked back since. She is VERY serious about this gameplay BC Challenge business. She gives you CLIPS formatted as live streams with "chat" on the side reacting to what they see. She has a leaderboard with a system to rank all contestants on friendship and romance and etc. And she's currently doing a crossover of the bachelor and SURVIVOR! go check it out!

@novapark : This one right here is a COZY Bachelor Challenge gameplay. Their shots are so deliciously saturated and warmly lit that it makes me wanna get a cup of tea and a snuggie to watch it. I like the style of a narrator popping in to watch all the ways Izan (the bachelor) wins and fails with his contestants (sims are so weird when it comes to their mood switch-ups i swear). And yours truly has a sim in there, too, so that's an added benefit for me, but just off the way they shot this challenge I'd still be checking it out regardless!

@jayveesim : You. YOUUUUUUUUUU. You have ruined me. You have ensared me. You have cost me my former life before I knew of your gameplay. You and that DAMNED BLAKE PARSONS! You've snatched my wig. You've dragged me across the floor by my eyelashes. You've scorched my edges! I have rarely been so fired up and passionate about a pixel baby the way I have been about YOURS and their DECISIONS! I won't even try to explain it to y'all, you gotta go check it out yourselves, and then we can scream about it together in this evil genius's comment section! LMFAO

This is a great chance for us all to big up fellow simblrs, so I hope to see more of these posts!

[carpathianspaceprincess]

Wintering (The Irish Poem) - Joel Miller x Reader

Summary: Joel reads a favourite poem of yours, and reflects on the subject's similarities to you.

Rating: E. minors dni.

Pairing: Joel Miller x SeasonalDepression!Reader (F)

Tags: Irish coded reader. a little bit of Gaeilge. One Shot. Happy Ending(™). FLUFF. Sickening fluff. Soft!Joel. Established relationship/situationship. No smut in this but could be in the future.(❀❛ ֊ ❛„). Book a dentist appointment my friends, you will probably have cavities after reading this.

CW: brief mention of suicide and overdose attempt, mentions of seasonal depression/mental illness symptoms, mention of SSRIs. 

WC: 2.4k

A/N: Happy late St. Patrick’s Day! This work was inspired by an Irish poem called “Geimhriú” by Ailbhe Ní Ghearbhuigh. The translation came from this post, and I only have a little Irish but it seems right. The Irish language is beautiful and I love it dearly, so I wanted my first posted work to celebrate it (i'm terrified of sharing this btw lol). I wrote this bc culture and language is nearly always left behind and forgotten in survivalist worlds like TLOU, and it’s rarely a theme in fics, but is an essential part of survival, especially for Irish communities. I may potentially expand this work to a series to explore more aspects of Irish culture as part of the story if it's well-received and I feel like it. btw this is not beta-read and idk how to format anything - this is genuinely my first time posting so there are likely mistakes! please comment if you find one, or have constructive criticisms, and of course like/reshare and interact if you had a good time reading this, it would mean the world to this little Irish gal.

(♡ ὅ ◡ ὅ )ʃ♡ enjoy!

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊.

Even at the end of the world, in the fucking apocalypse, in this shitty, godforsaken place, you were still somehow suffering from a seasonal affliction. 

Depression, that is. 

Joel saw it immediately, the way you took a little longer to answer the door when he came for you in the mornings, the bags under your eyes just a little more pronounced as the days in your district grew less colourful and the dry leaves wilted to the sodden earth. He also saw how you tried to hide it and for a while, tried to respect your clear denial of something being very, very wrong. 

To your credit, you did what you could; soldiered on. Ate and slept more than usual, like a bear. Before the outbreak, you’d been on Zoloft, then Wellbutrin, but the chances of any SSRI medication still existing were so slim you knew you didn’t need to bother checking. 

Even so, it frustrated you every morning, the fact that you weren’t like Joel. That you couldn’t just get up and get on with your day, that you needed some stupid chemical to make your brain work just because the weather was cold and the sky was churning furiously, gnashing it's teeth on nothing but grey, day-in and day-out. 

You couldn’t make sense of it. You were living in near constant poverty, under a dystopian military dictatorship and in the middle of a civil war every god-damned fucking day whether the sun was shining or not, so why did the fields being barren and slick with sleet make you viscerally despise life so much more than seeing them full of fresh flowers and humming with bees? You’d still be hungry at the end of the day. Exhausted. What should the seasons matter to you now? There was no difference. No future. Not then.

You had hoped that maybe eventually, living in constant survival mode might, y’know, actually make your brain want to survive. But it didn’t. You hated it. But what you hated about yourself most of all was the fact that you desperately needed help. It was pathetic. Weak. 

Joel didn't see it that way. Well, he didn't now.

At the start he thought it hadn't been too serious. Maybe you were 'just tired'.

But then winter had nearly taken you from him that year. The sudden and shocking bone-chill of Boston post-October had him practically dragging you out of your own bed every morning for the “supply run” he had taken to bringing you along on; silently begging you to get up and keep going for his sake if not your own. Telling you if a man from Texas could survive it, you’d better get your sorry ass up and do the same. 

He’d found you then, in late December, the dead of night, throwing up and barely breathing. You’d collected enough opioids to kill a horse and tried to take your own life. You’d been lucky to see the next sunrise, and that was the last time he’d allowed you to sleep on your own. And the first time he’d heard of “Seasonal Depressive Disorder”, or whatever it was. 

You’d explained that before all this, you’d had medications that would have stopped this issue for you; so Joel, having then appointed your fragile well-being as his responsibility, had looked for some. But of course there was nothing. So much to everyone else's delight, he spent the winter just like you; because like two really fucked-up peas in a pod, if you were in a foul mood, Joel’s was never far behind. With the QZ being overcrowded, freezing, and insistent on working you both to the bone, you were always in a foul mood. 

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

So now he can admit to himself that he likes this; likes seeing the glow of your rosy, apple cheeks in the tangerine afternoon rays of a tired day. The way the sunlight dapples the colour of your hair; the lazy smile that breaks across your gentle mouth as the cool breeze caresses you both. This wheat field is completely abandoned, high bland stalks swaying quietly. The rush of the little river nearby. A perfect place to take you; you who were beaming so joyfully, could’ve replaced the goddamn sun itself as far as it concerned him. 

He feels the embroidered spine of your book in his hand, holding it away from your reach. The one you always had open on the same page, the one he caught you reading when you were supposed to have your hands on your rifle and your sharp eyes looking for guards and raiders.

“Let me read it.” he grins without realizing it, stretching a little further away as your fingers grab for purchase, pointlessly. You're too short to even touch the cover as he leans over you. “No!” You reiterate, and he frowns, a finger coming to his lips to remind you of your surroundings. Still careful. “Why not, huh? Can't be that bad if y'like it so much.” 

A slow blush stains you as you huff, dropping your arms to your sides. Like a petulant child. Admitting defeat.

“Fine, but it’s not even in English.”

He quirks an eyebrow at that, and keeps your gaze as he flips the faded, worn pages open to find the one he’s looking for. “You won’t understand it.” You whisper. But he doesn’t need to understand it, he just wants to see. It makes perfect sense to him that you're bilingual, he doesn't know a lot about you, but he knows you're smart, and sharp as a tack...as long as something interests you.

The paper of this page in particular is dog-eared to the point of severe damage, and marked to all hell, but it isn’t dusty at all. Whatever this is, he sees that it’s well-loved by you. Well-read. His curiosity gets the better of him as you make one last reach for the precious item and he, with ease and very quiet glee, denies you. 

He doesn’t try to read it aloud though, the words roll around on his tongue unfamiliar, tangled up in the calculator of his brain that is so used to the anglo-saxon american structure of speech. But he scans it quietly all the same, to your surprise. 

Ná labhair focal,

ná féach im threo,

tá duifean ar mo chroí

nách n-ardófar. 

Géillim don ngeimhriú

Ní aithneofar mé 

go péacadh na mbachlóg. 

Ailbhe Ní Ghearbhuigh.

He clears his throat, and runs a finger along the last line of text; “This the author?” 

You peer over, nodding. He hums in acknowledgement, filing the information away for later. Then he graciously hands the book back to you, brushing your fingers with his, and you snatch it away; folding it closed against your lap. A low gust of wind makes the hair that frames the sides of your face dance delicately. You lean back on your arms then, to appear relaxed. Trying not to think of the delicious electricity sparkling under your smooth skin at his touch. Failing. You're hot, now. The humidity doing nothing to cool off the desire pooling in your belly as you look up at him through thick lashes. He's chewing a thought in his mouth, you can see it.

“Gaelic?” 

You are actually taken aback, but smile and shake your head good-naturedly at the attempt. “Gaeilge.” 

A look of confusion crosses his brow and a laugh, golden and sugary, pours from your chest. It squeezes him with violent affection for you. “Gaelic is Scottish. This is Irish. Gaeilge.” You repeat, cocking your head. “They’re different.” 

He nods slowly. He wants to ask you how you came to speak it, and is that why you have a lilt in your accent? did you come from there? From Ireland? And how did you manage to keep speaking it after the outbreak?

 But, he thinks those questions can wait til later. You'll tell him your story on your own terms when you're ready, and he respects that. What he does know is that this must be important to you somehow, and he's happy to focus on that for now.

 “You gonna tell me what it’s about?” 

“I could...but those are meant to be read and understood in the spirit of the language they’re in. They’re not meant to be in English.” You season the last word with some disdain, teasing.

He gives you a dry look and you laugh again. Rolling his eyes and pretending to fall over, he pops back up and props his dozy head with his elbow against the coffee-brown and burgundy leaves that have scattered and broken on the ground beneath gale-swept branches. Then he waits. 

You take him in in all his intensity, the way his curls ruffle against his hand. The sleeves of his shirt pushed to his elbows, muscles and tendons flexing and taut, brown in the sun and from working outdoors.

You guess you do owe him one. Reaching your free hand towards him, he turns his face into your gentle touch on his jaw, and you just about explode. How could you deny him anything when he looks like this?

“Alright,” You give in, and it feels like the easiest thing in the world.  

The book opens once more, and his pretty eyes follow your slender finger against the printed words with his gaze; you feel observed; shy. And you begin, your voice unsure of itself. But his hand on your thigh is cosy, encouraging.

“Don’t say a word,

Don’t look in my direction,

There’s something on my heart 

That can’t be lifted. 

I give in to wintering 

You won’t see me

Til the buds begin to blossom”. 

“Til the buds begin to blossom.” He repeats slowly, intentionally. 

“You a man of literature now, Miller?” 

He exhales sharply. “Not at all, ma’am. Just a curious one.”

The corner of your lips tugs upwards at this easier side of him - and you hum as you close the book and set it down with care, next to you. You each settle against the other comfortably then, taking in the sights and scents around you. A tranquility has made home inside your bones, with the feeling of his warm front against your back and you raise your face to the rays of sun; still beaming onto you from the early evening sky. Your whole body rests now, soothed by his presence.

Comfortable silence blankets over you both, for a few minutes. 

“So, d’ya like the view?” He asks all of a sudden, kicking his feet back and stretching against the massive tree he’s got you both behind - completely hidden from the view of the gate patrol. He’s been scoping this place out for weeks, he knows it’s safe. 

You feel his shirt ride up against your back and it ignites something that quickly dwarfs anything mellow or peaceful inside you.

“Do I like it, Joel Miller?” You repeat incredulously, turning around and crawling onto his lap; with only a little grace. His rough, calloused hands instinctively come up to your hips, and the denim of your worn jeans suddenly feels far too tight and restrictive for the kinds of lovely, fuzzy messages your body is giving to you. You straighten up, leaning in to breathe; a faint hint of whiskey, lot of smoke. Lot of man. Yours. Your man. 

Before you can unleash the teasing reply you had tucked away for him, an unwelcome thought sobers you. He notices the shadow cross your pretty face, the terrible memory flickering away in the back of your mind. Calling back to your thoughts before, you realise very abruptly that you do owe him one. In fact, you owe him your life for this very afternoon. The seeping heat on your skin and the pastel wildflowers. The gorgeous vermillion colour of the sky. The rush of contentment in your heart.

“I never would have even seen this sunset if it wasn’t for you.” You murmur, lowly enough that he has to strain to hear it. A grumble rumbles in his chest but he says nothing in reply, so you stay quiet, and take his larger hands into yours. Trying to convey how grateful you are with your touch. Hoping it'll osmosis or something. Knowing you can never repay him for his selflessness, his friendship, his sacrifices. 

He clears his throat then, to get your attention, and you lock eyes with him; searching and deep. Knowing. 

“You know I love it.” you whisper, appreciating the deep brown irises framed by spectacular eyelashes. The eyes you’d know absolutely anywhere. “I love it more than anything.”

You’re not talking about the view anymore. 

 He knows it, too; lines softening at the complete adoration on your face, the vulnerability; the way you’re giving it all to him. And he wants it even though he really shouldn’t. He wants you exactly like this for the rest of your lives. Warm and happy, tucked up next to him in some butt-fuck middle of nowhere place in the sun, tending to your garden and reading your books and your poems, unbothered by the harsh realities of the world revolving around you. Away and safe from the sickness and cruelty of the cities.

 He watches carefully the radiant glow that’s touching your expression, and he can’t help but understand then, why you like that poem. 

It’s you. 

In moments like these, when you’re pressed up against him and smelling so sweet he feels heady and drunk, it’s much harder to shove away those very domesticated thoughts he’s been having; of you and the kind of things he wants to give you. The kind of life he wants you to have, together. Although he couldn’t tell you out loud, not yet anyway. He’s working on it. 

You wonder what he's thinking about, leaning to press a soft kiss to his chin to bring him back to earth- closing your eyes at rough stubble brushing against your cheek. You feel an earth-shattering smile and wish you could see, but it’s gone by the time you raise your head again. 

What you do see is a tanned arm reaching behind you to pluck something from the soft earth.

It’s a sunflower. Bright and plush and golden. 

 Like you, he thinks. 

Firm fingers gently and deftly push your strands aside, carefully slipping the green stalk of it right behind your left ear.

Leaning back to peer at you and admire his handiwork, he tucks his hands behind his head.

 He compares what’s in front of him now to his memories of last month; your face tear-tracked and pale in his bed, telling him you didn’t want to live. Him never knowing how to help you, spending those bleak evenings with fear poisoning his every thought, constantly worrying he would come back home to you cold and still. Wrapping himself tight around you in his bed late at night in the hopes he could somehow just piece it all back together by holding you. The memories the experience brought up for him; the ones fuelling his terror of failing you, like he failed her. 

And now you here, surrounded by spring buds blossoming in the sweet change of the season. Wildflowers, peonies, just like you, so easily pleased by the sun and the green of the forest and the view from the top of your apartment building once the snow had begun to melt. Softened by just a little bit of warmth and a lot of love. A lot of care. He's proud of you and how hard you've worked to drag yourself out of the place you were in.

He’s suddenly finding it difficult to control the way he wants to cry with relief. 

You don’t know any of this, of course. But the way he observes you so deliberately sends little shivers down your spine, despite the humidity and haze. You do feel kind of silly sitting like this though, so you reach up to pull the flower from your hair, but his fingers grip your wrist hard and fast before you can get to it and they tell you otherwise, pressing indents into your skin that you'll remember later tonight.

“Don’t.” He says softly. “I like it.”

You try to stop the grin from breaking out but fail miserably, and he's dazzled by it. One smile, and he’s completely and overwhelmingly filled with love for you.

 Yes, he thinks; even at the end of the world, even in this shitty fucking place, this apocalyptic nightmare, you still somehow manage to blossom in the sun.

[rukunas]

post inspired by this, also this is a complete self-insert bc i hate one of my roommates LMAOOO hope she never sees this…. completely unedited too i’m sorry

cw: bakugo is in his 20s + reader is in college, suggestive

pro!hero bakugo always wonders why you don’t ever invite him back to your place.

well, to be fair, his place is amazing. even for just starting his agency, he gets a decent pay, and he put his first check into a penthouse that overlooks the whole city. crystal clear windows that go from the ceiling to the floor, more rooms than he can use— so of course, he randomly finds your things littered around everywhere. you probably like his place even more than him.

but he knows you have a place at your college campus. you’ve never invited him inside, though, always hurrying out the door whenever he picks you up. you’ve complained to him about one of your roommates once, but besides that, he knows nothing.

��what are you doing here?”

bakugo’s busy peering in over your head, trying to catch a glimpse of anything in your apartment. “brought you dinner. can i come in?”

it’s funny watching him, seeing how shocked he is at seeing how you live. “your kitchen is so small. how do ya fuckin’ cook in here?” “this painting isn’t bolted. do ya want it to kill ya?” and his reaction to your bedroom— “fucking hell. how do you have so much stuff?!”

it’s even funnier when he complains about the size of your twin bed as he rams into you.

“fuck.” he spits out angrily, sweat dripping down his brow as he curves his back to keep his frame above you and most importantly, on the damn bed. he gets why you like his place so much.

sleeping together afterwards is a whole other story. he takes up the whole bed—mind you, his feet hang off— and you’re left to lay on top of him, limbs all tangled up. (he honestly kind of likes it, but he’ll never admit it).

bakugo wakes up in the middle of the night to find you at your desk, typing away at some essay due tomorrow morning.

“come back in bed.”

“‘m almost finished. promise. just need to proofread and edit and… shit, what format do i need to use?”

bakugo sighs, lifting out of bed. “can i get water?”

“yeah, my brita is in the fridge. it’s blue and has my name on it.”

he’s standing in the glow of the fridge light, trying to figure out where the fuck your brita is, when someone shrieks.

“h-holy shit! you’re— you’re dynamight!” your roommate— the one you’ve said is annoying, always asks for my homework answers, never takes out the trash. “holy shit!”

“oh, um.” bakugo realizes too late that he’s only in his boxers. “yeah. do you know where my girl’s brita is? said it’s blue.”

her eyes bulge out of her head. “oh! i used it by accident.” she laughs awkwardly, grabbing it off the counter to hand it to him. “forgot to refill it though.”

bakugo feels his own blood boil. he recalls the time he lived with denki— the fucker would do the exact same thing. before he can open his mouth to spew out everything you’ve said about her, your face pops around the corner.

“hey, i finished. did you get water?”

“yeah.” he manages to pour in half a glass before the brita empties. he hands the glass to you. “drink this. i’ll refill it.”

“thanks, baby.” you try pecking his cheek, but he turns his head so that you reach his lips. he smirks into it, wrapping his arm around your waist but quickly realizes that he has an audience.

your roommate gapes at the two of you, jaw practically on the floor. “you didn’t tell me you’re dating dynamight.”

“um… yeah.” you nod your head stiffly. “if you’re going to use my brita, can you at least fill it up?”

you tug bakugo’s arm to bring him back to your room, ignoring (but also basking in) the way your roommate still stands in utter shock.

the next morning, he finds himself on the carpet. he must have rolled off the bed in his sleep. his final straw.

so, he proposes you move in with him. it’s better if your place also happens to be his.

[sun-flower-children]

BakuSquad’s Boy Part 1

A/N: Based on a fic that doesn’t exist anymore :( I’ll be adding my own head canons from what i remember of the og fic. This whole thing is in a headcanon format :)))

Kirishima was sitting down when he noticed their new transfer student walking into the cafeteria looking lost. Without thinking twice he quickly caught the attention of the male and motioned him to come over.

“Is it okay if I join you?” you asked, recognizing the spiky haired student as your classmate.

“Of course, let me introduce you to everybody!”

The redhead introduced all the guys sitting at the table. The talkative blonde with the lightning bolt in his hair was Kaminari . The smiling black haired boy with oddly shaped elbows was Sero and the angry-faced pale blonde with red eyes was Bakugo. While the rest smiled at you he merely sneered and ignored you.

“Don’t let him bother you too much, he's a grouch!” Kirishima said smiling.

The entire lunch period was spent talking to the Bakusquad and explaining how you transferred from the hero school in your home country and enrolled at UA. Laughing with them and bonding over memes and hero training.

It didn’t take long for you to become part of the friend group.

Y’all are a chaotic group of motherfuckers

The group chat is mess; Bakugo is trying to help people w homework, Zero is constantly sharing tick tocks and at 2 am Denki will spam it with memes ( which pisses Bakugo off bc it wakes him up when he forgets to mute his notifications)

Y’all will study together, which surprisingly, can be super productive sometimes.

It honestly didn’t take very long for you guys to become inseparable. They have you back and you have theirs. Training and working out together is a plus because sometimes y’all are too busy to actually fully hangout.

Kirishima will compliment you in a “manly” way and will totally be your hype man. Will be ecstatic when you give back the same energy. One time Bakugo joined you guys for his morning workout and his jaw almost fell to the ground when he saw you take your shirt off.  He couldn’t help but stare like holy shit you were ripped. Training with Kiri really did pay off. Bakugo smirked to himself when he noticed his red haired friend was also checking you out when you didn’t notice. 

Going to the mall with Sero and Denki is a whole ass ride. Y’all will go to so many stores and either waste all your money or just fuck around. Hot Topic is definitely a favorite of theirs. They don’t care if it’s not your vibe because they will want to deck you out in the fitting rooms to see what you look like. Once they pushed the curtain before you were done changing your shirt and both pairs of eyes went straight to your body, making you blush.

After being friends for so long the Bakusquad could read each other's emotions and all recognized that they had crushes on you. They talked about it and concluded that this would by no means would get between their friendship but would amicably flirt with you.

They organized a sleepover not too long after. But it was basically them all fighting each other about who’s room they would be staying in. Ended up going to Bakugo’s room because it was the closest for most of them. When you got there you were so caught up with the movie that you didn't realize they were low-key fighting each other for a spot next to you/ touching you in general. It was when y’all were going to sleep when you realized you left your sheets and what not in your room. Bakugo without missing a beat said you could sleep with him which then prompted Denki to tell you that “Bakugo’s feet smell like shit you don't wanna sleep with him” for Kiri to go “ Hey that isn’t manly, you should sleep w me Y/N.”. While the three of them were battling it out you and Sero were just sitting crouched in the corner. “I mean Y/N I could always get sheets and stuff from my rooms ‘cause it's not that far from here.” only for Bakugo to throw a pillow straight in his face yelling “Shut it Soy-Sauce face!!” Yeah they felt really bad in the morning when you ended up sleeping on the floor with nothing covering you.

Sero will want to smoke with you. The first time he smoked with you, you ended up having a panic attack and he felt responsible for making you panic and so anxious. He tries to smoke by himself for the meanwhile until you convince him to let you try again. It goes much better this time. Y’all start vibing to his latin playlist and he tries to teach you but y’all just end up stumbling over each other and constantly laughing. When dancing becomes physically exhausted and watches tick tocks and videos on his phone. Which ends up with y’all crying over the video where the racoon tries to wash his cotton candy but it dissolves. At some point the tears become too much and you both reach for each other which ends up with y'all sobbing and cuddling each other. Y’all fell asleep like this :)

The whole squad smokes at one point or another. Kirishima does it whenever he’s just in the mood to hangout and he uber chills. Bakugo does it to relieve stress and just enjoy life a bit. Denki smokes the 2nd most in the group just whenever he needs to kill time or he wants to vibe.

There will be times when y'all will smoke together and just fuck shit up. Like, one night after exam y’all are smoking but shit starts getting wild. Like y'all are hopping off the walls and dancing around to random music. Denki will find a roach that's stuck on its back and trying to get back off its legs but y’all are dancing all around it thinking it's like break dancing. “ AYYYY FUCK IT UP” Bakugo would yell “GET INTO IT” Sero would then yell. One of y’all took a video and accidentally posted it on Snapchat so the next day Mina would ask like wth happened last night bc y’alls tik toks and snapchats were wack af. Sero would probably speak on behalf of the group and say “ We were just really hyper.

When they all become hyper aware of their feelings not only for you but like low-key for each other they all change a lil bit. Like:

Denki stops flirting with people outside of the Baku Squad. He’s more touchy with y’all. Holding onto arms, arms over shoulders, hands on waists, holding hands, sitting in y’alls laps (this is a big one)

Kirishima has more energy when he’s with you guys. Like he could be running lower on battery than normal but one of y'all just comes up to him and he lights up like a light bulb.

Bakugo stops ruining desks and promptly yelling at people. He’s toned down and becomes a bit more chilled out. Mostly when he's with you guys. He is still a grumpy gremlin when he is with people who aren’t the Baku Squad.

Sero actually hides it pretty well and no one notices and changes that are indicative of a crush. Probably a bit more confident in himself

Kirishima and Denki acting like they haven't seen each other in sages when it really has only been like five minutes.

“ OMG BRO IT'S BEEN FOREVER”

“OMG DENKI MY MAN I MISSED YOU SM!”

“ BRO C’MERE AND PLANT A PHAT ONE ON ME!”

“HELL YA MY DUDE, THIS IS GONNA BE MANLY.”

And then proceed to aggressively walk toward each other, slap each others asses and plant a kiss on each other's cheeks before erupting into a huge fit of laughter. While people around them are just like ‘wtf is going on’

Touching becomes a thing.

Y’all will actively find each other when y'all want a hug or cuddles or smth. Forehead and cheek kisses are a thing. Bakugo takes much longer to warm up to everyone starting really with you and Kirishima. most comfortable holding y’alls hands loosely and rubbing your knuckles. Denki probably does this the most. He lives for physical affection, just give this poor boy his much needed cuddles and kithes.

Despite y’all high-key crushing for each other you all still are absolutely focused on your career paths as heros. Bakugo helping teach english and you trying to help ( if you know english well enough to teach )

“Ok idiots for the last time what word do we use to describe Sarah?”

“I mean she took these poor dudes apples and all of these are positive adjectives...i think.”

“Yeah Sarah’s kind of a bitch.”

“SHUT IT YOU TOO AND ANSWER THE DAMN QUESTION!”

“I mean Bakubro they aren’t wrong...”

“NOT YOU TOO KIRI!”

You guys work so well during team vs fights bc of how well you all know each other.

It’s an absolute mess but y’all love eachother <3

I will be making a part 2 ( + 3 i think ) so hang around for more :)

MASTERLIST

[nikkoliferous]

Nikko, I just want to say, that latest check-fact post is both hilarious and awesome! Tbh I silently hope more Anti-Loki's would start their argument just so I can watch you murder them😂 That being said, stories, i.e myths, do seem to like villain-washing characters just bc they don't fit in the Society™. And people just follow the narrator to the end-comma without giving a damn. Now the first thing I do if I find a myth-based book is to check who is the villain and why they are the villain

Haha. I sort of feel like a cat playing with a dead mouse. Like, it's fun for a little while, but eventually you get bored because you're not really being stimulated in any way. But I did have a lot of fun doing the fact check format. Made me feel all official somehow. Lol

And yes! Hero characters are, by definition, defenders of the status quo. And consequently, villain characters are, by definition, challengers of it. Their behaviours are often either temporarily (as in the case of Loki) or chronically immoral, but it's always worth looking at why they are considered villains. Especially when their history is, more often than not, no more bloody than that of many characters who are allowed to claim the mantle of "hero". What would it take for Loki to be widely accepted as a hero? Simply not doing evil things? He hasn't filled the role of the "villain" in nearly a decade, and yet he is still considered by many people to be one. So surely, it's not that. Perhaps if he were to finally prostrate himself before our heroes, consent himself to being judged by—in his own words—people who are no more virtuous than he is. In other words, if he too were to become an agent of the status quo. Then he might be worthy. Then he might be redeemable. Loki's greatest crime, not only in Odin's eyes but in the eyes of many consumers of media, has always been non-conformity. Even when he was being a "good boy" for the one thousand years prior to the events of Thor (2011), it is clear he failed to conform on some level to Asgardian social norms. Even while struggling to measure up to Odin's impossible demands, he retained his spirit of individuality. His descent into "villainy" only amplified his persistent quest for independence, for agency, for his own identity. And that's just not okay. Humans need the world to be able to be broken down into neat categories like "good" and "bad". It is how they make sense of the world. It is how they protect themselves. It is an understandable impulse. And it should be resisted.

What is most troubling, I think, is that I suspect many of the people who think this way do not even realise it. Many of them believe they are objective. Many of them believe they do think critically. But their behaviour and their inability to recognise narrative spin says otherwise. Something my former pastor used to say often was, "The only true objectivity is subjectivity rendered conscious of itself." Meaning, there is no such thing as a truly objective person. We all have biases. We are all susceptible to spin and propaganda. The best that we can do is to be aware of what our specific biases are and be willing to challenge them by asking ourselves hard questions. My bias is that I identify with and empathise with Loki. Why do I connect with him? What is it in him that calls out to me so strongly? Why is it important to me that he be defended? Why does it matter that people see him the way I do? Am I being overly merciful to him? If I am, what's compelling me to do that? Am I not being merciful enough? If not, why? How has my perspective been skewed to this point? What does my perception of Loki say about my core values? Am I satisfied with what it says about my core values? And on and on.

This got way longer and ramblier (not sure that's a word? lol) than I intended, but TL;DR it's always a good idea to take the time to ask why a villain is a villain and a hero is a hero, even if you ultimately come away with the conclusion that they indeed are one. The value is in the question as much as it is in the answer.

[freebooter4ever]

i’ve seen the discussion going back and forth on boundaries and sexual objectification, and i don’t have much to add to the conversation other than to say everyone is allowed to determine their OWN ‘lines’ and just because we don’t vocalize them doesn’t make them any less valid. but here’s the limits i set for my blog if anyone feels it is important for them to know (<3):

personally I consider ‘characters’ fair game for anything goes, with ‘public personas’ a little more iffy. ‘RPF’ isn’t new - it just takes on a new more accessible/visible form nowadays. i remember reading my first fic about a ‘real person’ back in my LOTR fandom days - it was a story in first person perspective about the main character meeting orlando bloom on a plane before he was ‘famous’. like a lot of these types of stories, it wasnt so much about the person as it was about the meet cute. the actor was just a convenient placeholder with a handsome face and some personality quirks thrown in to make the romance/dialogue more specific. i personally dont read much xReader fic nowadays, but mostly only cause i’m an old fart who can’t relate to the ‘you’ format. i miss the good old days when people actually created OC’s and then inserted them into things LOL. but also LOL if you think i’ve gone an entire year of quarantine without some imagined personal fantasies of joe mazzello (or steve aoki in the years before)(ramilicious can attest to this. she can also attest to most of these fantasies ending in friendship rather than anything explicit cause that’s just how i roll these days lol). the line i draw is i would never post these types of fics in a place where the subject could accidentally find them - you have to go looking for this stuff on tumblr, most fics are given explicit ratings and under read-mores. with the blacklist tags it’s pretty easy to filter things out. its even easier to add filters to ao3 searches. i am NOT going to do something like message steve aoki and say ‘yeah i watched that movie Ibiza like five times, here is my 1k fic where you’re the dj and i’m the one night stand’. but obviously people still enjoy imagining scenarios like these otherwise movies like Ibiza wouldn’t exist?

for art, i consider anything already on display up for grabs, we all know a certain person’s ass is all over the place...all you have to do is google ‘need for speed’ and rami’s name. HOWEVER, in the case of actors i personally would not draw anything more explicit than what’s already there. i’m not gonna draw full frontal nudity for rami (unless he gifts us with it in a movie, i suppose) or anyone. this is 100% a personal choice for me. 

i was a sophomore or junior in college when i volunteered as a figure drawing monitor where i’d time the nude model’s poses and help them set up the stage and lighting and such. there was this one guy in his mid forties probably, a regular who came every week, and i always thought of him fondly till one day (the day after i ran into my Hot Programming TA during dinner and later sent him an email begging him to go on a date with me because i was desperate for kissing experience)(and Hot Programming TA emailed me back within minutes saying yes) this artist guy who i saw all the time and thought i knew fairly well, decided to draw me instead of the model. which would have been fine except he drew me naked. i was NOT naked at the time, i was wearing a shirt, and a bra, and a full prairie skirt with alternating calico and floral patterns. he drew what he imagined was underneath all that. he came up to me after the figure drawing session and showed me his drawings and told me i had been ‘glowing’ and my response was to laugh it off awkwardly and get the hell out of there as soon as i gave the model their pay check. but inwardly i was thinking a) i was NOT glowing for this creepy man twice my age and b) i did NOT give him consent to sexualize my body under my clothes and then SHOW me that objectification. i never said anything to him or anything else, i continued to be the monitor, and i continued to field off creepy advances from him including multiple job offers, but when i finally realized i could just...stop..and i passed the student volunteer monitor job on to my friend naeem, i also realized that what that older male artist did was NOT ok in my book. and it was probably not something he would do while naeem was monitoring.

nowadays im working in an industry that regularly objectifies female bodies. in the past year alone i have had to deal with requests to make breasts bigger, i have been given character rigs that in addition to the usual elbow, knee, and spine joints also have ‘nipple’ joints but ONLY for the women (to make them jiggle for animation), every time i send out a female pose i get it back with notes that push it further into the sexy type of body language reserved for women (twist the spine more! sway the back more! give it ‘energy!’), i have been told to erase wrinkles and fat and pores but ONLY for the women (men you ADD pores bc realism! and manliness!) and this is all me working for a company that is actually fairly progressive in terms of sexism compared to OTHER studios.

like it or not, sexual objectification is a huge part of specifically women’s lives and how we react to that is our business. for me, turning the tables and putting men on display feels like fair’s fair. i cant stop the men from doing it, so if i want to enjoy sexualizing male bodies, damn it im gonna! like dang it, boy do i want to send steve aoki a thank you note every time he posts a video of himself doing those ice baths during the sunset golden hour bc holy shit gorgeous or working out in his gym wearing VERY little clothes, but i dont because i know what its like when someone imposes their personal fantasies on the subject. or, god, there was that time i had to unfollow nicole’s insta for a while bc i had a very explicit dream about her and realized, shit, i need to take a break and get my emotions under control before i can refollow. and god some of the stuff i see dudes sending her during her live videos on mental illness/meditation is TOTALLY gross and not something they should be confronting her with. and she’s not even ‘famous’ famous. or how some fans send their idols explicit direct messages without consent. THAT feels inappropriate to me.

a part of me feels like i shouldn’t have to defend this. men don’t. they’re even encouraged in mass media to sexualize women. but i also recognize the importance of talking about consent. the importance of recognizing that a celebrity deserves to have their boundaries respected. these are my lines in fandom. other people have different lines they won’t cross, and that’s okay to me. i block or blacklist any blogs or tags i think go over the top.

heck, even in fandom-only spaces i still try to keep my own more sexual fantasies off this blog and only in private messages with my friends and mutuals, and i feel like that might come across as unintentionally prudish or judgmental sometimes. i’m not ‘horny on main’ very often. but like...every time i reblog that particular ‘washing machine’ gif of joe mazzello am i thinking about him naked and thinking about how he’s got very loooooong feet, and ‘gee i wonder if that means /other/ things are Too Big for my tastes’ but also ‘gosh wouldnt that make a pretty picture to draw’???? hell yeah.

i dont know who is gonna actually read this essay but yolo i guess :)

[terribluh]

i wrote this for me

ive got this zadr au in my head ill never do anything with and its not particularly special bc every iz fan comes to this inevitable zadr au lmao

this got very long and probably ooc lmao rip dont worry u dont have to read it in fact please dont read this i did not format this at all and i did not proofread 

basically dib and zim are dating and dibs home situation has deteriorated, and in light of irkens managing to escape the florpus hole, they kinda go, “lets be young and free and run away together” and so they go to space!!! i feel like these self serving jackasses probably wouldn’t join the resisty straight up?? theyre too dumb for that, like yea dib has a hero complex and zim would probably love to be incharge of people but alas, dibs actually an asshole and zim probably wont hurry to align himself with irken enemies despite kind of being one himself.

so they float through space. things r kinda bad kinda good, but theyre surviving. the irken armada isnt exactly after them, but i imagine they probably have a run in with irkens who just start trying to kill zim and realize avoiding irkens is something they should do. the idea that zim terrifies the tallest is hilarious bc then they operate on a, ill avoid u if u avoid me basis and thats such a concept bc im thinking dib and zim become space pirates. will be honest, got a lot of inspiration from ravagers in gotg bc thats an aesthetic and i was way into kragdu at some point in my life. also im a slut for space operas.

they r in space, kinda keeping to themselves and stealing things. they become space cryptids. i love the idea that they become space cryptids lmao. zim is just such a small irken and dib is this tall gangly human and no one knows what the fuck a human is. lots of humans are fucking weird to other aliens stuff. also i love the idea of them in a fight with space bounty hunters or something, and dib gets shot and just keeps going. this strange lanky figure in a dark coat with blood spilling from his injured shoulder just not going down. and zim as an irken is functionally immortal anyway so theyre like an unstoppable team. i love battle couples! 

i like the dynamic they could of had in canon, someone made a post once, where zim wouldve been the one to fight and dib wouldve been mission control, but i think in this au, it would be the other way around? or more equal idk. zim has to learn to do the talking bc dib dont speak alien, and dib has to protect zim a lot. and then over time they just pick up each others slack lol. i just like the idea of dib being kinda intimidating looking, which when paired with zims shit eating grin is such a combo. 

theres probably a scene where an alien is like ooh scary bounty hunter that even the fucking irken armada avoids and is scared shitless but its just dib. and dib, never having seen this kind of alien before, starts asking a million questions and is just kinda offputting/adorable lmao and then zim has to drag him out. 

anyway things keep like this, they hash out a living on stealing and trading. their number 1 priority is avoiding the massive and any irkens out there. maybe dib misses earth. maybe zim misses… something. the ship they have is kind of scrap and very much homebrewed, all stolen parts and mishmashed pieces and it was originally zims voot lmao, but zim is a genius and dib is a membrane and it still works. zims house computer is in the ship now and minimoose lives in the vents.

and then theres gir. i love gir but also i feel like theres a lot of untapped gir related angst like, gir is essentially scrap??? shit breaks 

they shut him down a lot for his own good bc he malfunctions sometimes and its awful bc zim loves gir. 

and then one day, zim and dib making a run for it, dib scooping zim up and hoofing it with the alien in his arms shooting over his shoulder and yelling at dib at the same time. and someone or something hits gir hard enough he shuts down, eyes dimming into black and collapsing mid giggle and zim loses it, destroying the attacker while dib grabs for gir and checks his internals and has no idea how to fix him because nothing seems wrong. 

and this is something like the breaking point. things were ok, but now things arent. maybe zims pak is broken, has never worked properly, is dying, and they get by with scraps and parts but its very borderline. and the ships basically scrap and supplies are always tight but they make do. 

but then gir shuts down, and suddenly they cant keep living on scraps and avoiding the armada. bc they need to fix gir no matter what  

maybe theyre like theres no parts enough to fix him oh no, but look theyre right around the corner from the massive and it just so happens the resisty are attacking so zim and dib are like. “were really doing this arent we” and the computers like sigh ok 

they really intend to grab a random sir unit and cannibalize it for gir and jet but zim cant keep his mouth shut and suddenly theyre arguing, fighting their way through some irkens that are really just doing their jobs and had the misfortune of running into zim and dib making their escape and its really strangely easy. zims kind of an op destructive force and dibs so used to fighting zim at this point these irkens are like ants and theyve been in space for like a decade at this point, and theyre always in danger anyway, and its easy to get into the swing of it. shoot shoot stab kick yell at zim blast an irken. 

and next thing they know theyve busted through the door to the bridge where a showdown is happening between the tallest and the resisty leader and everyone deer in the head lights. 

both parties yell “ZIM????” like the beyonce meme and zim instinctively goes “yes it is i ZIIIIM” and dib facepalms behind him the tallest are like panicking and the irkens milling around start gunning for zim and the resisty in equal amounts and theyre severely outnumbered and zim and dib start fighting for their lives foreal this time 

and zim yells, “computer! bring the ship around!!!” and dib is like “zim if i die like this-”, “you won’t zim guarantees it.” and its kind of romantic but theres plasma beams everywhere and a deactivated sir unit in zims arms and theyre both hurt but thats what its like, thats what its always like for them and honestly they wouldnt change it for anything. 

maybe dib gets zim to go on ahead and escape without him with the sir unit, or zim goes on ahead himself all i have a plan. and dib is mistaken for a resisty agent bc he obviously isn’t irken and unwittingly teams up with then and then all hope seems lost and dibs like “we’re screwed- “

and gir blast through the glass of the ships bridge all, “Maaaryyy i missed you!!!!”

“gir youre ok!”

and then gir barrels into dibs arms, dib jolting back from the impact with an oof 

“i died but im ok now!” gir screams as he cuddles into dibs neck  

and its v cute but dib is kinda preoccupied with not dying and hes just like “thank fucking god get us out of here” and girs eyes flash red and he salutes “yes sir!” and jets off by grabbing onto dibs back with his tiny hands and thats when the ship pulls up. zim is in the drivers seat and everyone fucking sees him because hes screaming, why is he screaming? hes zim, of course hes screaming. they get away all well and good but lmao their interference was enough that the resisty was able to escape with far less casualties than they wouldve had. 

bc they were losing, real bad lmao zim and dib saved them but they dont even care because that wasnt what they were going for but to the resisty theyre heroes and to the irken armada theyve declared war. and dib and zim are just like “our actions will not have any negative reprecussions no siree.” bc theyre idiots!! 

their actions have negative reprecussions. 

and then they join the resisty. 

and at some point dib goes home and reconciles with his family and gaz kicks his ass 

anyway i just love the idea that zim and dib dont do nothing on purpose but every damn thing they do affects something big. like some kinda cosmic karma, i amn jus standing herr kinda thing lmao a lot of coincidences and pure luck shenanigans. 

an overarching theme of “everything in zim and dibs lives suck except for how much they love each other” 

[kewltie]

YEAR END FIC REVIEW

This year I wrote: 

biological imperative 

wings of icarus

war of the roses

sugar, we’re going down

you are cordially invited...

garden of eden

your kiss tastes so red

hana to ryuu 

a demolition boy & his cryptid bf

the fox’s bride

when dandelion roars

hope is a four letter word

butterfly pinned under glass

the devil and the deep blue sea

vol 1: goodbye halcyon days

papa said to knock you out

my boy builds coffin

love meme, hate meme

interlude: paper darling

in rouge

at the feet of the world

that’s 21 stories (124k words!!!) and that’s discounting all the random fic snippets that i wrote only on tumblr so far. 

Overall thoughts

My actual writing year didn’t really start until like in May which mean the bulk of my writing was in the last half of the year. I spent most of the first half reposting and moving my eunhae fic over to ao3 so I didn’t actually have any new fic to post (even tho i was prob still writing away with random fic ideas anyway but no actual completed fic to post) until I wrote BI for bakudeku and that pretty much sealed the deal for me. New fandom, new pairing, and new obsession. Honestly coming in I was worry how slow I was writing and how I didn’t get much done but looking at my fic list and my wordcounts and HOW I DID IT ALL IN HALF A YEAR... im pretty impress with myself :D.

Also, I think it’s a good time as any to finally realize and accept when you finally  move on to a new fandom. So thank you v v v v much to my old fandom for nurturing me and helping me grow as i writer these past five years. You made every eunhae fic worth it, thank you again!!!!

My best story of the year

“A demolition boy & his cryptid bf” if all the kudoes that keep on coming tell me. Here’s a random tidbit about it: i wrote it all in like 2-3 days in some sort of mad spur. social media style fic was something i did for eunhae before so it wasn’t new to me so i guess that’s why it came easy enough LOL but this was little more intensive just bc i wanted it look even better but im sooooo glad ppl were so accepting of it despite the style of the fic and the way it was format. you guys rock!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! gave me enough confident to start “love meme, hate meme” even tho im pretty sure i was going to do it anyway lol. 

My favorite story of the year

“love meme, hate meme,” only bc it is my masterpiece in term of how fucking damn pretty it is and how much blood, sweat, and tears i poured into it just to get that damn FONT COLOR RIGHT. 

Most fun story to write

“papa said to knock you out” aka kasumi ‘verse only bc she literally wrote herself. her voice come clear and true to me and i had such a fun time writing in her pov!! it also plays into my dumb romcom trope that i always love bc royalty au? CHECK? single parents? CHECK CHECK? past secret love affair? CHEEEEEEEECK. it’s just all so damn cliche and it’s me to T and i fucking love it. 

Story with the single sexiest moment

“In Rouge” played with a lot of things i love where it borders on sexy/intimate without crossing the line. like im 90% sure bakudeku were going to bang in the restroom but the fact that it’s THE RESTROOM IN THEIR SCHOOL and katsuki is damn good bf and wouldn’t want their first time in that shitty place so yea hands to themselves. but honestly i don’t do smut/nsfw but i always tread the water with it lol with my kink fics bc i am kinky v v v much so but i do in a way that is comfortable with me without dealing with explicit sex and im really glad i get to show off that in my fic bc sexy doesn’t alway have to lead up to sex ya know???? 

Most "holy crap, that's wrong, even for you" story

"my boy builds coffin” a katsuki that kill sends shiver down to spine but man writing it and thinking what push him over the edge was exciting only bc i love my fluff in general but i highkey love dark and edgy stuff too esp super dysfunctional relationship, yo. 

Story that shifted my own perception of the characters

"My boy builds coffin” for sure. Only because I wanted to stretch how Katsuki would fall and understand the length he would go to ensure a future where izuku is alive and thriving and I THOUGHT man if your future bf who is this scarred and traumatized individual person come back in time to protect you by killing every fucking thing that hurt you and instead of freaking the fuck out you’re like “um, IM SO JEALOUS OF MY FUTURE SELF TO HAVE THIS PERSON DEDICATE THEIR LIFE TO THEM” and im like fuck bc that’s the kind of fucked upness that i love. 

Hardest story to write

if it isn’t “love meme, hate meme” than THIS IS YEAR IS FUCKING CANCEL. the formatting,juggling a gazillion of usernames, the font color and text, THE FANFIC ARCHIVE etc everything i have to carefully format and code even tho i have extremely and bullshit knowledge of it. 

Biggest disappointment

nothing???? i love ALL MY BABIES. but no really that fucking mad max au im writing and was supposed to be posted yest.... DAMN YOU. 

Biggest surprise

Uh, “demolition boy” and probably “kasumi verse” only bc i never intend for either of them to happen :P. 

Most unintentionally telling story

the vampire fic my entire reason for writing it is so I CAN PROCRASTINATE ON THE ACTUAL FI IM SUPPOSED TO BE WRITING. i wrote it all in one sitting passed waaaay into the AMs. that’s... some dedication to my procrastination. 

Story I haven't written yet, but intend to

the age gap abo childhood friends au i have been working on the side :S.

Goals for this year: 

Finished all my major projects (kasumi ‘verse, wedding verse, social media au, stepbro au)

hopefully i can get started on gasoline verse aka the post zombie fest where bakudeku tried to survived it by building the most codependent fucked up relationship possible :D; it’s letting your bf become a ‘zombie’ just bc you can’t live without him 

WRITE AT LEAST ONE TODODEKUBAKU FIC!!!!!

thank you soooooo much for putting up with this year!!!! i know im really bad at replying/commenting and interacting with you guys but i want you to all know i feel incredibly blessed and humble by all your kindness and support. you all treated me so well last year and this year I hope to return your kind gesture by giving you more stories to read in 2019!!! :D

[staybythekidlaroi]

the scenarios aren’t always about who i like but i definitely understand the annoyance of ppl trying to tell me what i like. i know what i like and you giving me an essay in mla format on what you think i like isn’t going to change my mind. i guess the moments i hate the most are when it actually does get to me and i start doubting myself so yeah... like you i don’t share as much with ppl i know will push back and just keep things to myself or tell the friends i have that aren’t judgey or try to project on me. ppl really need to learn to just mind their own business 🤦‍♀️

hi anon first off i’m so sorry if you sent this awhile go bc i just checked my inbox now and saw this here!!! anyways i did have to go back and check what i posted about and yeah i fully understand... my issue is that i do tend to become close to people quickly and then i feel comfortable sharing lots of my thoughts and whatnot when tbh i probably by definition am still oversharing.. and i tend to share these thoughts thinking people will understand me or my pov and they are people who i consider close and value the opinions of. but then they comment on things that like you said really aren’t any of their business at the end of the day and it makes me question the validity of our friendship because going back to my original post it was a comment made by one of my old co workers who at first i got rly close with and considered a good “friend” but then over time she started to tell me i was judgmental and one night made an unnecessary comment about the kind of people she thinks i am and am not attracted to. and from that point on i started to get a bad taste in my mouth about her (she’s not a bad person) because i felt she was being a hypocrite and also i knew she was holding maybe ill feelings towards me because she had opened up to me about her bf and how he was p shitty to her but then ended up changing her pov and thinking i was an asshole for not liking him lmao. i’m sorry i didn’t intend for this to be a word vomit but i just had to get it out of my system. but yes, people need to mind their damn business or just respect and support their friends instead of trying to act like they know more about someone else than the person themselves!!!!!

[cookinguptales]

okay, so late ‘90s, early ‘00s badfic 101

A lot of fic was either on fanfiction.net or private archives. People would also post things to fic communities or private journals on LJ. (Which was a whole...thing, with some people friends-locking their work because they were afraid of sporking/flames or they were just pretentious.) ff.net had a whole HOST of problems, like a variety of terrible ways your formatting could get borked (like you couldn’t use repeating characters, which made line breaks hard; that’s why you’d get increasingly “arty” line breaks that could be...cringey), policies against allowing any fic of media created by people who didn’t like fic (see: Anne McCaffery, Anne Rice, other crazy Annes, etc.), puritan anti-smut policies which often got applied to slash fic more than het fic, and just...in general, terrible fic. Private archives were often manually curated by their owners, which could be fine or it could lead to cliques and circlejerks. The Harry Potter archives seemed to get especially crazy with this and some truly epic wanks came out of that. You’d also see people hosting fic on their own sites (usually angelfire or something) with big slash warnings and IF YOU’RE UNDER 18 GET OUT warnings. A lot of fic archives wouldn’t host slash or porn, and you were liable to get in trouble in fandom or otherwise if you didn’t strongly label LGBT/18+ themes. Especially if the fic in question contained both. Like. I don’t like the OTW for many reasons, but I have to admit that AO3 is basically a godsend. We lost a lot of fic to purged LJs/deleted websites.

SUPER purple prose. Older fic in general tended to be a bit more “literary” and purple and it sometimes read like J.R.R. Tolkein was having a stroke. By the time the ‘90s/’00s rolled around, you’d just get this sort of halfway point where people would have generally unornamented text except for things being thrown in like this character’s cerulean/azure/periwinkle eyes. The shade would change by scene, and you’d always know because there’d be a lot of stuff like “the cerulean-eyed man shook his head”. EVERY CHARACTER IN THIS SCENE KNOWS HIS NAME, USE HIS NAME. Or they’d refer to a character’s glimmering green orbs or something. It was painful.

In anime fandom especially, you’d get a lot of these epithets that referred to their abnormal hair colors. People saw “brunette” and were like “shit, I can adapt that” so you get ravenette and bluenette and silverette and pinkette and kill me now. Some people got pissy about like -et/-ette endings re: gender, but after you’ve gone to the bluenette place, it doesn’t even fucking matter anymore. Grammar is dead.

Anime fic also tended to have a lot of so-called “fangirl Japanese”. Writers would just sprinkle in any Japanese words they knew for no goddamn reason, which would usually end in glossaries at the end like *kakkoi means cool! *aoi means blue! and goddamn guys, these are all words than have legit English translations.

Script fic. Just... script fic. More on that at the bottom bc I had to use some special formatting.

“Crack” fic. This would be fic that was purposefully OOC (out of character) for comedic effect. Tended to utilize “omg so random!!” humor. It usually was pretty much only comedic to caffeinated 13-year-olds. This was literally all Invader Zim’s fault and you know I’m right.

The “disposal” of female love interests in slash fic. Used to be much more of a problem than it is now. Now, I’m not talking about fics that just don’t talk about female characters or retcon a relationship or are like “they broke up!!! moving on!” I’m talking about fics that turn all female characters into shrieking homophobic harpies that would probably rather their canon love interests be dead than fuck a dude. This was applied even to like the nicest characters in the world, or even to characters who weren’t in canon romances with the male characters but were deemed to be threats. They often got smacked around or died or whatever. Things were a lot more sexist in fandom back then. There was a yenta trope that kind of arose as backlash to this but was really just as annoying in a different way. That usually involved a canon love interest going full yaoi fangirl (for some reason) and shipping her love interest with another guy, then involving herself in their love lives to a truly creepy extent so she could hook her boyfriend up with another guy. These were also sexist. Both situations tended to make the female characters incredibly OOC and prevented them from having any real human reactions/emotions.

Mary Sues. Now, the term has lost a lot of its effect in recent years. Mary Sues (or Gary Stus) used to have a really specific meaning. They were OCs (original characters) that were the prettiest, smartest, most powerful, popular characters in the whole world that had glittering orbs for eyes and usually had some kind of special magical power that made them better than all the canon characters. These were self-insert characters -- in other words, even if they didn’t have the same name as the author, they were wish-fulfillment characters wherein the character was used as a stand-in for the author, who could then write all the canon characters loving them. Now people just use the term for any female character that’s powerful and central to the plot, so...it’s not a useful word anymore. As for the old school Sues, well... I don’t necessarily think they were bad, but I will say it’s a hell of a lot more fun to write a Suefic than to read one. That really goes for most fanfics with OCs that have been elevated to a prominent status. People generally read fanfic because they want to read about the canon characters they love, not shallowly-written OCs that take over the fic. I don’t think OC-driven fic is bad to write... But again, yeah, it’s usually much more fun to write than to read. I think it’s helpful to be cognizant of that.

Reviewer participation fic. Mostly an issue on ff.net. It used to be that there was no way to reply to comments on ff.net, and as I’ve said before, there was a strong comment culture back then. Just not replying to reviews could be interpreted as very rude. (It would be unfathomably rude on LJ, which was more community-driven.) So to get around this, people would include a section to reply to reviewers at the beginning of the next chapter or their next one-shot or whatever. So you’d get long interminably long fics on ff.net with like 40 chapters in which nothing happened, and to get ideas, they’d ask reviewers. Worse, sometimes people would try to incentivize readers to review by offering to put their loyal reviewers in the fic. So you’d have this long section at the top of the chapter which might have a conversation that’s been going on between them and a reviewer for the past 8 chapters (and hell, they might’ve made a new chapter just to reply to them) except multiplied by however many reviewers there are, and then the reviewers worm their way into the fics, too! Oh my god.

Passive-aggressive fic. This was especially an issue on LJ as a personal response, but would show up on ff.net as response to wider fandom tropes. These would be fics where a character is like “WOW I WOULD NEVER DO X, THAT WOULD BE SOMETHING I’D NEVER EVEN CONSIDER DOING. WHAT KIND OF IDIOT WOULD THINK I’D DO THAT?” And X is usually (a.) something a reviewer told them would be more IC than what was in their previous fic, (b.) something another writer just put in their fic, or (c.) a ship they don’t like. (This would also extend to fics where characters would be like I’M NOT GAY, I’D NEVER FUCK A DUDE, EWWW!! as anti-slasher rhetoric.) Back then, you could reasonably expect that people in your fandom would at least see, if not read, your new fic. On LJ, you saw basically all the fics because they were posted in wider communities, and fandom was, as a whole, more community-driven back then. If you insulted another member of the community via fic, they’d know in about ten minutes. It was throwing down a gauntlet. lol

The crack fic genre also extended to crack pairings. It wasn’t unusual for people to dare each other to write weird pairings (often characters who’d never met), the more bizarre the better. This was the era of Hogwarts/Lake Squid. These fics were often sporked, but in a more delighted way than usual. There really was more of a sense that people could and would write anything. Some people came to actually ship these pairings like legit and ship wars would ensue. And sometimes some cracky pairings just became really popular for assorted reasons and that made other fans really mad. This still happens, honestly.

Ship wars now are often dressed up in social justice terms, which is a trend that I find frustrating bc I feel like it denigrates important issues. Ship wars in the ‘90s/’00s, on the other hand, were just balls to the wall insane. I still refuse to engage in ship wars because damn, man, the shit I’ve seen. People were much more open about the fact that they hated people who shipped other pairings because they just shipped something else or were squicked by the pairing or whatever. The Harry Potter shipwars got particularly fucking weird. So it wasn’t generally a slash vs. het thing, like some people will have you think. Some of the worst ship wars I have ever seen were het shippers at war. Never again the harmonian times.

Frankly a lot of other things that my mind is rebelling against remembering.

Script fic (often with author interludes) was eventually banned from FF.net, which kind of killed it in fic because that was the main posting venue back then (unless you wrote slash or porn, which could be taken off if people reported it; technically slash wasn’t against the rules unless it was explicit, but they didn’t often check the reports carefully). What I mean by script fic is like

Karamatsu: wow I sure like these sparkly pants Chibita: I don’t (A/N: I do!!!!111 I have a pair like them at home!) Karamatsu: let’s fuck now Chibita: but offscreen because we want to preserve our soft M rating!

The A/Ns (author’s notes) could get really in-depth sometimes, with an author often RPing the characters OOC or using them as their “muses”. So sometimes you’d get a mess like

Karamatsu: gosh it sure does suck that everyone treats me like dog shit Chibita: true (A/N: serenaxkittyx755: That’s not true, Karaboy! Choromatsu: Yeah, we like you less than dog shit. Ichimatsu: Way less.)

Except my example was honestly more IC than most of these tended to be. You’d often get “muses” saying “ewww” or “that’s hot” during romance scenes, even when this made no sense whatsover. Or offering commentary on some random non-karamatsu character’s fashion choices or something. Purposeful “crack” was considered not just okay but in fact desirable back then.

basically, badfic was hell.

[birlcholtz]

for the better

read it on Ao3 (part of the Zimbits Airport AU-verse) (I would recommend reading this on Ao3, actually, because of the formatting, but it’s here too for convenience) (also let me know if the link doesn’t work? bc i’m not 100% sure about it)

Jack’s been planning this day for a long time now. He even made a Twitter account for it, two months ago, and tweeted occasionally to build up a following (it was easier once he got that little check mark thing next to his handle). He has a few thousand followers, which is enough to get the message out, and he even has his tweet drafted.

The first draft of it was ‘hello everyone, I just wanted you to know that I am bisexual.’ Tater had taken one look at that and vetoed it. With every extra revision Jack suggested (adding an exclamation point, saying ‘you all’ instead of ‘you,’ et cetera, et cetera, et cetera), Tater had still shaken his head. So Jack took it to Georgia.

“I mean... it’s okay,” George had said, furrowing her brow at the screen. “It’s a little terse, though.”

“But I don’t need to say anything else to get the point across, do I?”

“Well, no. But it’s still very detached.”

Still, after a lot of reworking (and, okay, George does scrap that entire thing and make him start from scratch), they come up with something acceptable. Something that Jack might even say is good.

And then it all gets ruined at the last moment.

Monday morning at around ten o’clock (he’s been given the day off from practice to sort everything out), Jack opens up his Twitter account, intending to post the string of tweets that he and George have planned out, but the first thing he sees is a tweet from Kent.

Kent V. Parson @kparse

tired of all the marriage proposals from women, so i’m just gonna say it: i am both gay af and not taking offers of marriage at this time

Kent V. Parson @kparse

#sorrynotsorry for stealing ur thunder @jlzimmermann

Jack sighs and texts Georgia before composing a tweet as well.

Jack Zimmermann @jlzimmermann

disappointed in @kparse for ruining my announcement

Jack Zimmermann @jlzimmermann

he *did* already know i was going to come out as bi today, so this is quite rude

And then he leaves it like that and texts Georgia that he’s already gone ahead with the plan. She still hasn’t replied to the first one, so she’s probably either working out or so exasperated with him that she’s just decided not to reply. He also silences his phone, then texts Bitty, who’s back at Samwell.

Jack: I did it.

Bitty: congratulations!! <3 on twitter?

Jack: Yeah.

Bitty: you seem kind of put out?

Jack: Kent Parson came out before I did.

Bitty: hold on i’m going on twitter rn

Jack waits for a little while, long enough for Bitty to plausibly have read both Kent’s and his tweets, and then sends a text back.

Jack: Very rude of him. Now I can’t even be the first out player in the NHL.

Jack: That’s probably why he did it, to be honest. He likes being first.

Bitty: it might also work well for u, though

Bitty: take away some of the backlash maybe?

Jack: That’s true, but it doesn’t mean I can’t still be annoyed at him.

Bitty: yeah ofc, i would be too

Bitty: anyway i gtg to class so i’ll ttyl, take care of urself today ok?

Jack: Yeah.

Bitty: text me if u need anything, have a good day <3

Jack: You too <3

Bitty: :)

Georgia calls him about half an hour later and outlines the steps that the Falconers’ management are going to take, then promises to text him when they’ve released their statement and makes him promise to take care of himself today, just like Bitty. She also requests that he leave the apartment as little as possible, preferably not at all, so reporters don’t try to corner him in public. No sooner has she said goodbye and hung up than Jack hears knocking on his door. A glance through the peephole reveals it to be Snowy, Tater, and a case of beer, and he opens the door.

“Good job today, Zimmboni,” Tater says as soon as the door opens, shoving the beer into Snowy’s hands so that he can hug Jack. “Poots said to tell you he is proud. He is with trainer, pinched nerve. He will be here soon.”

“Everyone else is scrimmaging, or at least they were when we left,” Snowy adds as Tater releases Jack and steps past him into the apartment. “I don’t know if they saw us leaving and decided to let it go or genuinely didn’t notice.”

“They’re welcome to come over too once practice is over,” Jack says, stepping back to let Snowy in and then shutting the door. “But not before they’ve showered. Also, they should bring their own beer. I don’t have enough.”

Snowy nods. “I’ll text them.” He pulls out his phone and texts the rest of the Falconers, but then checks on something else and bursts out laughing.

“What?”

“Parson started a hashtag.”

“A hashtag?”

“Yup. A fucking hashtag.” Snowy shows Jack his phone screen.

Kent V. Parson @kparse

@jlzimmermann It had to be done. #StealJacksThunder

“Great,” Jack sighs.

“But that’s not all.”

“There’s more?”

Tater pokes his head out of the kitchen. “You are talking about hashtag, yes? Many people are using it.”

“Like who?” Jack asks. “And what are they doing with it?”

“Rob Jeffries from the Schooners did,” Snowy says before Tater can answer. “Jack, just check Twitter for yourself. There’s way too many of these for me to tell you all of them.”

Jack does.

“Holy shit,” he mumbles.

Rob Jeffries @rjeffriesnhl

@jlzimmermann Sorry, man. I’m bi too #StealJacksThunder

Las Vegas Aces @lasvegasaces

Proud of @kparse for starting his own hashtag. The Aces organization supports players no matter their orientation #StealJacksThunder

Aleks Olsen @aleksolsen

maybe not first out LGBTQ+ NHL player in league, but am first on Oilers & officially first out aro/ace NHL player #StealJacksThunder

Providence Falconers @pvdfalconers

The Falconers organization stands with & supports our LGBTQ+ players. Congrats @jlzimmermann for starting this whole thing

Las Vegas Aces @lasvegasaces

@pvdfalconers Excuse you, @kparse came out first

Providence Falconers @pvdfalconers

@lasvegasaces Excuse *you*, it was @jlzimmermann ‘s idea. Don’t try to #StealJacksThunder on our watch!

Besides the team Twitter accounts bickering with each other, it just goes on and on and on— NHL players deciding, on the spur of the moment, to come out on Twitter, and all of them using that same hashtag. The one that makes Jack almost drop his phone, though, is a string of tweets from someone he knows very well.

Bob Zimmermann @mrbadbob

Extremely proud of my son @jlzimmermann for having the courage to show the world who he is. Cannot fully express how happy I am for him

Bob Zimmermann @mrbadbob

There were LGBTQ+ players when I was in the NHL, there always have & always will be & now we are free to be ourselves

Bob Zimmermann @mrbadbob

& say what you like @kparse but @jlzimmermann started this, u just made a hashtag :P

Bob Zimmermann @mrbadbob

I’m almost done I just have one more thing to say, and that is: sorry, son, I’m pansexual #StealJacksThunder

Jack looks up slowly, aware that both Snowy and Tater are staring at him. “My dad just came out as pan on Twitter. And he used the goddamn hashtag.”

“I love your dad,” Snowy says as Tater howls with laughter. “Oh, that reminds me.” He taps at his phone, and when he turns it off and puts it back in his pocket Jack checks his own— sure enough, Snowy has mentioned him in a tweet.

Aiden Snow @asnowynhl

@jlzimmermann im gay #StealJacksThunder #sorryjack

“God damn it, Snowy.” Jack doesn’t mention that as far as he knew, Snowy wasn’t out to anyone— him included— before just now. Maybe saying it through a screen is easier for him.

“At least I apologized in the tweet,” Snowy says. “Let’s open that beer, I suddenly have a need for one.”

They do pretty much nothing for the rest of the late morning and afternoon. Poots arrives about an hour after Snowy and Tater did, and the rest of the team barrels in through the door at around four, which is before practice was supposed to end. Jack doesn’t ask. They have, in fact, showered and brought their own alcohol. Jack turns on the TV and somehow finds his way to a TV show about hunting sasquatches, which works well as background noise, and every so often someone pulls out their phone and announces the latest NHL or ex-NHL player to have come out via Twitter. It’s an impressive list.

When there’s another knock on the door a little after six-thirty, Jack looks around, confused. Practically the entire roster is here, except Socks, who’s got a mild concussion and is staying home. Regardless, he gets up to answer it.

“Jack!” Bitty cries once the door opens, practically glomming onto him like a koala and wrapping his arms around Jack’s neck. “I saw the hashtag, and all the players, and your dad— how are you doing?”

“Okay, considering,” Jack says, holding Bitty up with one hand while he closes the door with the other. “I’ve only been looking at the hashtag, haven’t checked any of my mentions.”

“That’s probably smart,” Bitty says. “You can put me down.”

“Do you want me to put you down?”

Bitty considers. “Not really, but my arms are going to start hurting if I keep dangling off of you like this.”

Jack swings Bitty’s legs up so he’s in bridal style. “Better?”

“Yes, thank you.”

“Fine, Zimmboni,” Tater shouts from the living room.

“How do you know I’m committing a fineable offense?” Jack yells back.

“Is obvious. Bitty is here.”

“Fair enough.”

Just then, a sasquatch-y howl emits from the other room— probably the TV. Bitty raises one eyebrow. “What on earth was that?”

“We’re watching a TV show on locating Bigfoot,” Jack says by way of explanation. “It doesn’t make a whole lot of sense and the reenactments are awful but it’s a pretty good distraction.”

“We? How many people do you— don’t tell me, the entire Falconers roster.”

“Yeah. Except Socks— Sokolov. He’s staying home because of a concussion.”

“I must say I never took you for a partier, Mr. Zimmermann,” Bitty says, smiling up at him. “We’re just learning more and more about each other every day, aren’t we?”

“Oh, yeah. Friday evening I learned your deepest, darkest secrets, Saturday I learned how good of a baker you are, Sunday I learned your favorite color, and here we are now. Seems to me we’re doing things in reverse order.”

“Who said there had to be an order?”

“That’s true.”

Bitty nods towards the living room. “Let’s go that way. I want to see this sasquatch-hunting TV show.”

“As you wish.”