#holy shitballs the tags....

[canidaedreams64]

ngl im kinda considering reading mha but only for present mic and the hashtag yuri

[storyknitter]

.

[greeneyezblackheart]

There’s gotta be a picture if Izzy’s dick out there somewhere right caise I need pictures or visual descriptions of what it’s like !!

I can help you with that. Look closely. You can’t see the whole thing, but you can see part of the head. I would like to see a full-on pic of this man’s cock, bcs as I’m sure you’ve heard, he’s supposed to be fucking HUGE. This is probably as close as we’re gonna get, though. Unless you count the various dick print/bulge photos out there. 😮‍💨

Mary mother of fuck, he’s hot. 🥵🥵🥵🤤🤤🤤

[merriclo]

jurassic park is seriously such a good book. on a completely unrelated note id like to involve more gore in my writing.

[cha-melodius]

@welcometololaland requested this with 4 question marks so I officially can't refuse, and also tagged by @kiwiana-writes, @iboatedhere, and @three-drink-amy, thanks to all of you! Have a particularly juicy morsel:

Nora raises her hand and starts ticking off her fingers. “You haven’t stopped smiling since I came in. You’re practically bouncing around the shop while you clean up. And you were fucking whistling.” “I was not,” Alex protests automatically, even though now that he thinks back on it he might have been. Whatever, he had a song stuck in his head. “It was just a good day. We had a big sale.” “Were they hot?” she presses, leaning forward now. Alex bites his lip and absolutely fails to not conjure up Henry’s features in his mind’s eye. “I mean, like, objectively yeah, I guess.” “You guess.” Nora straightens up and turns back to the computer. “I’m looking up their credit card info.” “Nora, you can’t—” he says, even though she absolutely can. He’s sure she’s got the sale pulled up before he can think about stopping her. “Percy Okonjo?” she reads off a moment later, her eyes going wide in shock. “Like, that Okonjo?” “Yeah,” Alex confirms. “Holy shitballs. Is this number real?” “Of course it is,” Alex huffs. “They mostly weren’t his. He paid for his friend.” Nora’s wicked grin comes back in force. “His friend, huh?” she says slyly, leaning over the counter again. “Did she flirt with you? Is that what’s got you all hot and bothered?” Something weird twists in Alex’s stomach. He should just tell her, right? That Pez’s friend was a guy. It’s not a big deal. He was objectively good-looking. And he did flirt with Alex. And maybe Alex flirted back. It was just fun. It doesn’t— it doesn’t mean anything. “I really don’t know what you’re talking about,” he mutters instead, avoiding her gaze. “I’ve gotta… do something. In the back.”

Tagging @cricketnationrise, @clottedcreamfudge, @stutteringpeach, @indomitable-love, @orchidscript, @14carrotghoul, @sherryvalli, @myheartalivewrites, @celaestis1, @lilythesilly, @tintagel-or-cockleshells, @xthelastknownsurvivorx, @leaves-of-laurelin, @everwitch-magiks, @loki-is-my-kink-awakening, @mirilyawrites, @dewdropreader, @nicijones, @celeritas2997, @rmd-writes

Also tagging @wolfpup026 and @natendo-art if you want to share any art WIPs!

[withlovefromsimtown]

Hey New Folks!

I think someone must have reblogged or tagged me in something that someone found interesting because holy shitballs there's an amount of ya'll the past few days.

I'm not the type of person who gets upset about people going through & liking/reblogging everything on my Tumblr, & I have like a decade of content out here to pick through, so >Check Out My Pinned Post Of Semi-Organized Content Tags/Links (this is a link)< if you like what you see, & ya'll go wild.

Keep it respectful in comments/tags & thanks for enjoying the things I do!

[yourlocalartsonist]

Holy shitballs y'all MFIP chapter 9 is actually coming out tomorrow-

I'm not kidding, it's finally FINALLY gonna be out for y'all to read tomorrow. Man was this unexpectedly tough to get through. There was so much that kept constantly happening and then my notes for the chapter got deleted and so much of it had to be re-thought and re-worked and just-

Honestly, hella worth it in the end. It's so genuinely fantastic compared to my first concept for the chapter, it def needed that rewrite

Not to mention I had to get a new team to help me work on it. They did so absolutely fantastically man, MFIP's never had such a polished chapter before. Words cannot express my appreciation for their hard work and effort and genuine passion they poured into helping me with my dumbass turtle fic. These folks went above and beyond man. I already credited them on the master list and they'll be credited on the chapter too but just gotta give an extra special thank you to them all again so I'll be tagging em at the end of this post

But yea! I'm beyond grateful for all of you sticking by and giving so much love to my story. I hope the next few chapters will be FUCKING SHORTER but I've learned my lesson to not make any promises🧍‍♀️

Tagging the team!: @yosajaeofficial @urlocalmj @chaoticspeedrun @ramblehour @goldanrabbit and misfortun3_ismyname (TikTok)

—

ROTTMNT: Moths Fly In Packs

[bluejay-07]

I have two opinions on the MAGP premiere, and two opinions only:

I’ve only had Colin for about three hours, but if anything happened to him I’d kill everyone else in this Tumblr tag and then myself

THAT SOUNDSCAPING MAN HOLY FUCKING SHITBALLS

[angerissue]

Yeah, so I posted this on my personal blog already and I'm posting it here too. Recent events consisting of health issues and harassment, along with my recollections of what other people have been through lately on this website, have made me rethink my priorities. I'm going to be stepping back from tumblr.

I'll move my fics to AO3. I'm still deciding what to do about my collaborative writing and all the threads and headcanons.

Honestly, leaving has been on my mind for a while. But the absolute bullshit behaviour I've seen demonstrated towards me, and so many other people, has made me seriously question why I'm still here. I've never posted anything controversial. I've never intentionally tried to hurt people, or spread bad ideologies. I'm a conscientious person of what I think is good moral fiber. But holy fucking shitballs, what has happened to this website? The last few years on this site have been atrocious with all the harassment, the dogpiling, and the other shit where people derive, frankly, a scary amount of joy and amusement from attacking others like it's some kind of entertainment.

People have discovered that if you want attention here, you can do it quickly by fabricating "outrage porn" and dragging someone through the mud. People will believe it without hesitation, because they are so angry about what they are being told, they don't stop to think. People really eat up the "us versus them" mentality, especially when it allows them to feel like a part of a group, and when it gives them a purpose in harassing and/or getting rid of people who are designed to not be in that group. It's especially insidious because all of this harassment seems to be rationalized and justified by the groups participating in them. It's all in the name of this-or-that, it's just moral crusades, just socially-acceptable bullying and/or death wishes with a fresh coat of paint to appeal to a younger crowd. Because it really does seem like a vast majority of the people doing this stuff are in their early twenties or in their teens.

I really do understand why other people have left this website - it is such a buzzkill to feel like you're swimming in a shark tank. I have no desire left to share my work in a place like this. Why make content for a website where its users are so quick to steamroll others, for a quick laugh, no matter how vanilla the content? Why put in the effort to get suspicion; why put in the effort when it feels like I'm just rewarding a Bad Thing, at least to a sizable extent?

Like, I've been posting in the Bruce Banner tag since The Avengers came out. I've been here since many of those popular ship tags were literally empty. And despite the positive reception and complete lack of criticism, despite the masses of people who liked my content, I'm completely unmotivated to post things there now. Last year, there was an isolated incident with fanpols and moral panic people, where one person went out of their way to post some untagged ship hate in the Bruce Banner tag, and after I told them to tag it, they spent three hours scouring my blog for ways to retaliate (and it seems they still haven't blocked me). It was a textbook case of, "lol, let's point and laugh and tell someone they're better off dead because they write a character yet don't incorporate my own headcanons, let's call them [a dozen different types of bigot without due cause]." Predictably, none of their followers reached out and actually inquired about what they saw in the person's smear campaign (all the "damning" screenshots they posted of my blog were headcanons for Bruce Banner, none of which were any indication of personal views and were easily chalked up to either bad wording, ignorance, or literally just nothing because they were reaching farther than Elastigirl to find shit, and upon later inspection, it appeared they even shared many of the same personal headcanons they had harassed me for, which... Eugh). Nobody asked for clarification. They were told what to feel, which was outraged and vitriolic, and they clamoured. Guess what happened when I woke up, saw all this, and blocked everyone because I wasn't having that shit? "Lmaoo they must have blocked me because of my gay ships lmao what a homophobe".

I just. What.

How are people okay with saying this kind of stuff. Like, my brother in christ, you were blocked because you were a twatwaffle, a participant in an outrage porn dogpile. I have dozens of Bruce Banner versions in my headworld, and a shit ton of headcanons of both Bruce and other characters that run the entire gamut of sexuality and orientation; I'm literally a trans person with gay ships; the first ship I ever made fanart of was Cherik, for crying out loud, and two of my favourite ships have always been BrucexLoki and BrucexTony. You are not as accurate as you think you are. Not at all. Get off your high horse before you fall off, it's made of playing cards.

Oh, but I guess it's "funny". I guess it's okay to throw around loaded terms in that case.

Some of this stuff genuinely was funny to me. Because this person had literally scoured my entire blog (and when I'm saying "entire", I mean they went through every page, every post, every single bullet point in my extended reading portal, and there's a load of content in there, folks, and all their visits were recorded in my statcounter so it was pretty easy to see they had spent three hours on there looking for "bad stuff"), found one line in a headcanon that said (in keeping with official canon) this specific Bruce tends to be most attracted to people of the same ethnicity... And they sent me an ask saying, I kid you not: "does Bruce hate black people".

What even. How does this compute. The ask couldn't even offend me if it tried at this point, it was hysterical because of the total quantum leap in logic. I had literally never posted anything else, not a single other line, about ethnicity in any sense, nor would I ever insinuate what they were claiming. It was just a line I threw in because, like most lines, it's nice to paint a more complete picture, and if you've ever seen my content and how outrageously exhaustive it can get, I love painting.

It was less funny when they used this single throwaway line to call me a racist.

But seriously - the entire harassment campaign was based around stupid shit like that, and funnily, it was all tacked onto the original ship hate post this person had originally posted, which was pretty much bait for attention in the first place. Some of the screencaps they took even had contents that directly contradicted what they were even trying to roast me over.

In the end, once they realized I'd blocked them, they dared me to, just about verbatim, "come back and defend this boring white bread man you created".

Sure. Boring. So boring they needed to read all my content for hours (which showed a huge inability to curate their content consumption like an adult), and so boring they stalked my blog for months after the fact and made fun of the fact I went to the ER for an unrelated health issue. It's just ridiculous, especially because if all this criticism about my headcanons had actually come from a place of reparation and not using me as entertainment fodder; if someone had actually talked to me about something that concerned them, I would have completely cooperated and taken the advice. Because I really don't want to be a dick on the internet, I actively look for edification, and I really do want as best as I can.

But I digress.

It's strange, because despite what happened with these clowns, it's not that I'm afraid to be here. I haven't been intimidated into keeping quiet. Rather, I simply have zero motivation to be here or contribute. And really, I'm just deeply disappointed in all the disgusting actions I've seen in this fandom and elsewhere on tumblr, the brazenness of it these last few years. I don't know what happened, but it was never this bad. And people don't deserve it. I've seen a lot worse than what I've received, and let me tell you. It is horrible. Content creators don't deserve to feel like they're playing Russian fucking roulette every time they post some new content, or be fearful that the wrong person will see their work and make a playdate out of harassing them for literally no reason. And on top of that, nope, tumblr just enables this bullshit and doesn't do a thing.

There have been three cases in the last, what, three years, where people I know were dragged severely for doing absolutely nothing wrong. For making boundaries known, for writing certain things, for not responding within a certain time frame. In all but one case, it was always the same ending; they left.

Participation in fandom should not be this stressful for anyone. It really makes me miss the 2012-2015 era, because while it certainly wasn't perfect back then, it was a lot better than nowadays, with all the renewed moral panic shit that is doing nothing of value. It's just carpet-bombing the userbase, and disincentivizing people to make new things, any new things. If there isn't something obvious for the impassioned bully to hit, or something they can manipulate, they'll just make shit up on the spot. Want to guess how many people of good character have been ousted from the Marvel fandom alone since, say, even 2018? Well, I don't have the numbers, but I'm sure they're substantial.

It just kind of sucks, because I've written this version of Bruce here for over twelve years. And seriously, I have never seen anyone take issue with my headcanons until the harassment last year. I'm pretty careful about what I write, so naturally with the harassment aside, I did review all the headcanons I had written, but after that, and after getting the opinions of a few trusted friends (which I am so grateful for), there wasn't... Anything to fix. They were just headcanons. Not only was this harassment limited to the last year or two, but almost all of the harassment my friends have received has been within the last couple of years, too. Like, alarm bells should be going off there, because wow. Especially when I also consider how much harassment has happened to people outside of my friend group. Especially when I consider how commonplace it has become to throw around shit like "kys" or "I wish you died in the ER" to people you don't like. Especially because it seems like it's just getting worse and worse. I'm seeing this kind of shit in casual posts now, not even directed to anyone. "Go kill yourself". I can open ten carrds, and five of them will have "swallow a knife :) :)" or something in them.

Is it a wonder there are so few content creators here now? Especially fandom olds?

So yeah. I'm out.

If you're a genuinely good person who doesn't make a pastime out of harassing people, and if you ever recall seeing my stuff in the tag and enjoying it, be it my gifsets, my headcanons, or my fics, thank you for that.

If anyone here wants my AO3 or discord, send me a message.

Toodles.

[frenchiefitzhere]

5 Things You Never Get Tired of Writing

Tagged by @ejunkiet, who is so cool and kind and I still kind of can’t believe you read my stuff and like my stuff and want to keep talking about stuff I write (because you’re kind of freaking amazing yourself if you didn’t already know holy shitballs)

1. Songs

I figured I’d get the obvious one out of the way. I started writing character-based songs (very musical theater-y) for the Redacted bois & their listeners back in January of 2022. Before then, I had never written a song in my life. I had set some existing texts to music and written some terrible poetry before, but now this shit just flows out of me and it makes me so happy and also it’s a little bit like a strange disease but it’s my favorite disease. When do I do all the songwriting? In the car or going for long walks, mostly. I record little snippets into Voice Memos and then transcribe them later when I get back to the piano. I can’t believe how fast these things happen.  To date, I have written 65 songs for Redacted characters

2. Banter

Especially for sassy characters. Or villains. Or sassy villains (President Moore, my beloved!).

3. Setting: Living spaces & work spaces

I don’t have a very good visual imagination, so I have a hard time picturing characters’ faces until I see some artwork. On the other hand, my spatial sense is highly developed, so I will fully deck out the details of Imperium Lasko’s office, the library/study room at D.A.M.N., or a food truck park in the middle of Dahlia. These are the sensory details that make me happy.

4. Marie

The Shifter Chick Who Lives in My Head. The Amalgamation of My Ancestral Accents. The One For Whom I Wrote My Very First Fan-Art Song. I love you with all my heart, you beautiful wolflady. She’s not even my character, but she feels like family. 

5. Collabs

I’ve said it before; I’ll say it again:

My desire to encourage participation is pathological.

I want to enable creativity.

In the last few weeks, I’ve been extra, extra blessed to be invited to collaborate or to entrust an existing project to someone. But my first collab was a song... Summary of DMs: Me: Curse you and your awesome Vega fics. You’re making me like Vega. @teafairywithabook: Mwhahahahahahah. You should do a Vega song. Me: Idk what Vega would sing about. You’re the Vega expert. If you want a Vega song, you have to write it with me. Two days later: 🎶Corresponding Demons🎶

(I'm finna tag @tepid-judas and @beewithknee and @gingerbreadmonsters to tell me 5 more things each pls and thx)

[zmediaoutlet]

I posted 4,203 times in 2022

That's 812 more posts than 2021!

178 posts created (4%)

4,025 posts reblogged (96%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@samshinechester

@zmediaoutlet

@mannequin3thereckoning

@silver9mm

@stanfordsweater

I tagged 4,198 of my posts in 2022

#spn - 1,940 posts

#art - 689 posts

#dean winchester - 294 posts

#sam winchester - 237 posts

#jensen ackles - 125 posts

#:) - 119 posts

#the boys - 119 posts

#wincest - 116 posts

#lol - 114 posts

#thanks canon - 99 posts

Longest Tag: 135 characters

#hunter corp john got dean a custom-built vermeil cock cage for dean's 21st birthday and it's dean's favorite present he's ever received

I sent 2 gifts in 2022

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

fic: the constant vow (chapter one)

You ever have that fic idea that you think, mm, that'd be fun to write, and you keep kind of prodding at it and tweaking it and reworking, and then it turns out it's like 9 years later and you finally sit down to write it and it turns out to be long and complicated and, oh damn, quite the endeavor indeed? Yeah.

I'm going to post the six chapters of this over the next six Fridays (barring getting hit by a truck or something) and, I'll be honest, I really hope people give it a shot in sequence even though it's technically a wip. Hopefully each chapter will be satisfying, even if you have to wait for the conclusion.

title: the constant vow pairing: Sam/Dean (brief Dean/others) rating: E length: 12348 (chapter one) warning: dub-con tags: Season/Series 06, First Time, Case Fic, Genderswap, Fuck Or Die

summary: With Crowley apparently dead and Sam's soul back in place, even though Eve is a worry and Castiel's fighting a heavenly war, Sam and Dean at last have some space to get back to what passes (for them) as a normal life. They've just finished up a pretty standard job and are killing time in snowy Wisconsin when Dean wakes up no longer looking like Dean. That's just the start of their problems.

(AO3)

82 notes - Posted August 5, 2022

#4

can I ask what the appeal of wincest is to you? do you have a manifesto somewhere?

I do not have a manifesto. Do people write manifestos?? The only manifesto I can imagine being required is from people whose literal not-ironic favorite movie is Sharknado. And even then, the answer should be: "lol, why not?"

I can't decide if this is a bad faith ask or not but let's assume it's not, for fun and profit: the first level of the answer is lol, why not.

The second and largest part of the answer is: by watching the show as it's presented to me, without trying hard at all, I see a deep and tangible connection between the two main characters which is so intense that it actually would be less weird if they were fucking. The fact that they aren't, according to canon, actually makes Sam and Dean Winchester very fucking strange indeed. No one is that world-leveling over a sibling. It's insane behavior. They're bringing each other back from the dead and ruining each other's romantic relationships and accusing each other of cheating (thanks Sam) and condemning all of humanity to a world that still has demons in order to keep living in the same underground bunker together. Holy shitballs.

In some ways, wincest-where-the-relationship-is-physicalized is kinda cheap and redundant. Their actual-canon gencest relationship is so intense and over-the-top and strange that physicalized wincest almost becomes the only way we can talk about it, because we can't really conceive of relationships outside of romantic ones that are that powerful and all-consuming for characters.

So given all that, why not have them express their apocalyptic, world-ending (and world-saving!) love for each other via penis jousting. Like, might as well.

136 notes - Posted August 3, 2022

#3

if you could completely excise an element from your fandom -- like disappear it forever, there would never be another post about it and indeed the thoughts that caused them would never even appear in another fan’s head so as not to potentially foul the air with their presence -- what would it be

150 notes - Posted May 23, 2022

#2

Sam’s fiftieth birthday isn’t much of an event. They don’t do much for their birthdays, never have, and even milestones have gotten lost in the general maelstrom that their lives became. When he was eighteen he ran away from home and felt so gut-shot horrible about it that he puked five times on the Greyhound taking him to what he’d thought was a new clean future. On his thirtieth he was in a coma in a hospital, getting nonconsensually filled with an angel. The years in between, May 2nd was a nonevent, other than a bloody reminder of bad times that weren’t far enough in the past.

In 2033, it’s different. Still reminders but they do feel distant. Some glass partition that’s slid down, between the bad old days and the current ones. They’re good, Sam guesses, but more than anything they’re---neutral. They’re exactly the days that he makes out of them, every morning. Lot of lives he could have had that would be worse than this one, and he knows that better than any other human in the universe, bar one.

It’s a Tuesday. A cool morning, for May. Sam goes for a run, like always. He comes back to the coffee not started, like always, so he starts it, and then goes and takes a shower. His knee hurts but not any more than his knee usually hurts, these days. Jeans, a sweater. The bunker seems colder than it used to, but then he’s a little skinnier than he used to be. A sweatshirt helps.

In the kitchen he pours two cups, and walks them careful back down through the halls to room fourteen. The door’s still just cracked and it’s dark inside, and he’s quiet as he sets the one mug on the bedside table but there’s a rustle, anyway. “Oh,” Dean says, and coughs phlegmy, and Sam wrinkles his nose but murmurs, “Sorry.” A waved hand, pale peeking out of the blankets, and then it gropes for the coffee. Sam shakes his head, goes to leave---thinking of the book he’s got split on the arm of his favorite chair in the library---but his knee’s hooked before the first coffee slurp is even over, and he waits. 

“Ugh,” Dean says, like always---Sam rolls his eyes, like always---but then there’s a little tug at Sam’s jeans and he sits, obediently, and waits for Dean to gulp down half the mug, and even in the half-light from the hall he can see the grimace. Dean sighs, putting the mug back on the table. “One day you’re going to learn the right amount of grounds to put in, dude.”

“One day you’re going to get up early enough to make your own, dude,” Sam says, and Dean blows a half-hearted raspberry. Even with the queen mattress they moved in here years ago, there’s not much room; Sam props himself up with one hand on the other side of Dean’s hip. Sips his coffee, looks at Dean waking up. Even with a drool smear he’s clumsily wiping off his jaw it’s a nice sight.

Dean curls an arm under his head, stretching his legs out lazily. “Fifty years of being my little brother, you oughta have realistic expectations,” Dean says, airy, but there’s a little smile curled in through his beard, and Sam pauses with his cup lifted halfway to his mouth. Surprised, sort of, and then not surprised. He finishes the sip and then sets his mug next to Dean’s, and when he leans down Dean’s already tilting his chin up for a kiss. Coffee and morning breath, and the soft scratch of beard. If he had any tension in him anywhere it’s gone, just from the taste of him, in the warmth of their bed in the morning. Dean’s fingers slip through his hair where it’s still wet at the back, slide down to hook into the v of his sweater. Sam pulls away from his mouth, kisses his cheek instead, and Dean huffs and pushes him back, just fingertip pressure but Sam sways easy with it, propped over Dean, thinking---nothing. Nothing at all.

“Want to go over to Marlow’s and get burgers for lunch?” Dean says, after a little while of looking all over Sam’s face. Sam wonders what he sees. He’s content to wonder. “And I got a good lead on a bottle of scotch that might just be hidden somewhere in the library.”

“Oh, a mystery,” Sam says, dry, and Dean smiles at him outright, easy, no smirking or holding back, and god, he’s just. He’s so. Sam smiles back, helpless to do otherwise. “Yeah,” he says, and then has to clear his throat of thickness. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

“Cool,” Dean says, casual, like he didn’t just catch Sam in the middle of loving him. 

Just another day in the life, together. Every morning that’s true---Sam wouldn’t  be caught dead calling it a gift, certainly anywhere that Dean could hear it, but. It’s something, all right.

“Maybe after some scotch you’ll let me do that thing you’re embarrassed you like,” Dean says, and Sam refocuses to find Dean looking a little less sweet than previously, and---goddamn him, it’s not fair that after fifty years he can still make Sam---

“Dude, cut it out,” Sam says, and Dean grins filthy and says, “Come on, remember? That time in Germantown where I got your leg bent back to your shoulder and---”

“I hate you,” Sam says, getting up, and Dean crows back, “Oh, I know how you do,” and just for that Sam takes both coffee mugs with him, and what’s so supremely irritating about Dean is that Sam’s flushed (not blushing, thanks) and annoyed and is now thinking about how his knee isn’t so bad today that they won’t be able to do---that---which he’s not embarrassed by, he just doesn’t like how he gets so out of his mind when Dean---when they---

Dean’s cackling back in the nest of blankets. Sam heads determinedly out of range and thinks about pouring the rest of the coffee down the sink, just for retribution, but it’d be a waste of good coffee. 

That night, in bed, after lunch and a movie and scotch and then other things and then clean-up, because even if Dean doesn’t mind it Sam’s never going to like sleeping like that---Dean curls up to his back, kisses behind his ear. “Happy day, man,” he says. “Many more.”

“Minimalist,” Sam says, and Dean snorts. Sam covers Dean’s hand, where it’s settled naturally over his breastbone, and thinks of all the days to come.

(on AO3)

156 notes - Posted March 30, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

hello, hello -- happy w.w. to all who celebrate -- and as part of that delightful day, I wanted to get a sense of interest in a similar project that might have a slightly wider scope. You'll see the details in the linked google form.

Fandom's not *dead*, it's just... tired. And busy. And overstimulated-while-simultaneously-not-taking-anything-in. And sometimes people feel like they can't send a message or leave a comment or whatever because a) they just didn't have time when they saw it, or b) because they thought the post was too 'old' and it might feel weird, or c) who knows! Tons of reasons. But, in general, it's the interaction and communication that makes fandom feel alive, so -- we want to encourage that! Wouldn't that be fun? A little 'hey, I see you!' across the various dashboards.

It'd be super helpful if you'd take the little survey. (It's seriously little: two questions plus an optional short answer.) Share it widely! Tell your friends! Tell your enemies! And then, at some point, a later project (with an actual title) may come your way.

180 notes - Posted October 5, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[abstractreign]

#[ behold Star's perch-- I mean the amazing Joshua and his lovely mun King!!!#but seriously their Josh is so well written and so much fun to bounce against and seeing him make connection is so interesting??#look at him go while still working on his own plans#and King!!!! such well thought out takes and nicely done world building#every detail is accounted for and explained#do yourself a favour and follow!! ] : kind words courtesy of a very, very cool bean who writes at @/drolliic

{ saving these tags ( as well as the others on that promo, now that i've gone through them again, holy shitballs— ) because aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

[heytherebuddychumpal]

I posted 144 times in 2022

That's 25 more posts than 2021!

0 posts created (0%)

144 posts reblogged (100%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@determinators

@fitzroythecreator

@weirdmageddon

@spamtondoingthings

@drowninnoodles

I tagged 12 of my posts in 2022

#sans plinko - 1 post

#his theme music is just that one clip of a dude playing the sax that went fucking viral - 1 post

#ahahaha nice - 1 post

#this is so fucking cool - 1 post

#holy fucking shitballs - 1 post

#yooooo - 1 post

#hahahahagahahagagaa - 1 post

#'gamer cake' i'm dying help lmaooo - 1 post

#the fact that theyre canonically exes still fucks with me - 1 post

#deltarune - 1 post

Longest Tag: 87 characters

#his theme music is just that one clip of a dude playing the sax that went fucking viral

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[searchingforacircuitbreaker]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Band of Brothers Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Lewis Nixon/Richard Winters Characters: Lewis Nixon, Richard Winters Additional Tags: Pre-Canon, Music, Nonverbal Communication, First Time, First Kiss, Semi-Public Sex Summary:

1942. Dick, Nix, a jukebox. In the early days before they learn to read each other's mind, they find a way to communicate that doesn't require talking.

[i-guess-im-a-fanfic-writer-now]

Markiplier x Reader

TRIGGER WARNING: mentions of parental abuse and abuse from family in general (physical, sexual, emotional), self harm (cutting), trauma stuff. If you’ll be triggered by reading this, don’t read it, or at the very least be really careful. Skip the self harm parts if you need to. Take care of yourself, eh?

I wrote this for myself because I needed this shit, and this is my first time ever writing a fanfic. Tell me if there’s stuff I can do better when writing?

Here we go

The last month had been going relatively well. You were finally living away from your relatives, and had moved in with your best friend, Mark. He was recording videos every day, editing them for hours, and you stayed out of his way when he was busy, not wanting to bother anyone, even though you logically knew that he wouldn’t be annoyed. Growing up in a place where everything you did and said was a problem, it made an impact.

But flashbacks quickly made their way back into your life, becoming more realistic every time, leaving you shaking and sobbing on the ground, curled up into a ball. 

After some days with particularly rough flashbacks, you couldn’t function properly, you could barely speak, even. And sometimes dealing with the pain of the memory was so hard that you couldn’t resist hurting yourself.

Today was one of these days.

You made lines in your skin, again and again, and, a few minutes after, reached for something to clean up the blood, wincing as the damp fabric touched your bloodied arm. You stared at your scars from all the other times, scratching at the scabs, and hid the blade you had used.

Footsteps were coming close to the door of your room. “Must be Mark”, you thought, quickly pulling your sleeve down as your heart raced from fear that he would find out. He couldn’t find out. What if he’d end up hating you because of it? What if he got mad? You couldn’t risk getting kicked out by him. 

Seconds later, you heard a knock on your door.

“Yes?”, you said. 

The door opened, and Mark walked into the room, with his goofy smile and messy hair. 

“What’s up, (y/n)?”

“Not much, just reading”, you nodded at the open book on your table and smiles slightly at Mark. 

“You okay?”

He tilted his head, seeming suddenly worried. Maybe it was the smile. “Crap”, you thought, “I hope I didn’t ruin anything. My smile needs to look more real.”

“Yup!”, you replied, trying your very best to sound cheerful, “What about you?”

“I’m great!!! Wanna watch (your favourite movie) with me? I don’t really have much to do at the moment! Might as well hang out, if you want to.” The worry had faded from his face and was replaced with joy. 

You smiled at the mention of your favourite movie, and nodded. “Sure, why not? Let’s watch it for the ninth time!” Not exaggerating. 

You both went to the living room, Mark grabbing a pack of popcorn on the way through the kitchen, and sat down into the extremely comfy couch. Mark logged in to Netflix, searched the movie, and immediately put it on play. You moved closer to Mark,  trying not to let him notice it, but he grinned at you and put his arm over your shoulders and pulled you closer. You flinched away from his arm at first, but hesitantly let him do it after a few seconds, realizing he wasn’t going to hurt you. He still seemed concerned because of the flinch. 

“Popcorn?”, he asked you, tilting the pack at you. You took a bit of it and curled closer to him, getting a bit more comfortable being right beside him. 

A few hours later, you finished watching the movie and were both starting to get awfully tired. You decided to get some sleep. Before you even got off the couch, you heard a sudden loud noise, your eyes widened and you flinched hard, covering your ears with your hands and starting to shake. Mark didn’t react to the noise, but he looked at you and gently touched your arm. He then took your hands just as gently, whispering “It’s okay” a few times. You were still shaking when he quietly asked you what was wrong. 

“It’s.. it’s nothing... I’m, I’m okay...”, you said, trying to stop shaking and panicking. 

“(Y/n), that’s not nothing. Please tell me. I’m here for you, alright? You keep flinching all the time. Did something happen?”

After a few moments, you nodded slowly, refusing to look into his eyes. 

“Who hurt you? Who did this? It’ll be alright, (y/n), I promise.”

You stayed silent for a few minutes, your hands still in his, and then started talking.

“My.. my mother... and almost everyone else in the family.. they kept hurting me, screaming at me.. telling me things...”

“They’re assholes. I’m so sorry you went through that. I wish I could’ve helped you. Do you want to tell me what they told you?”

“They kept saying that I’m a worthless, stupid bitch, that I can’t ever do anything right.. a-and they... they hit me, and kept kissing me when I didn’t wanna be touched.. my mother, she... she screamed at me even when she found out I.. when she found out....” 

You kind of shut down, terrified of what would happen if Mark found out about your self harm. Noticing that you were starting to rock back and forth, Mark tried to calm you down. 

“(Y/n), it’s okay, you can tell me. I won’t hurt you or be mad at you, I promise.”

You waited a few minutes and took one of your hands out of his. You carefully pulled your sleeve up a bit, letting Mark see the cuts and scars on your arm. You were too scared to look him in the eye, but you mustered up the courage to look at his face. He looked sad, scared, hurt, but not angry.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to”. You stared at the floor. 

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m here. You can always talk to me. You’re my best friend, and I’m here for you. None of it was your fault.” He seemed a bit lost, as if he didn’t really know what to do, how to help. 

You nodded and curled as close as you could. You shut your eyes as Mark gently rubbed your back and told you things will be okay someday, and that he’d make sure of it. 

[because-imma-lady-assface]

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