#keep fandom to fandom spaces

[theyjusthowl]

I can't even.

There are bucktommies out there asking the community to rally for Tommy to come back, but politely. Swamping the poor ABC intern with mails and commenting on every single Instagram post to bring back Tommy is still harassment even if you say please and thank you. You don't run the show, showrunners do. It's not a choose your own adventure situation. That's what fandom spaces are for.

It's unhinged tbh can you imagine trying to stalk HBO into reviving that one secondary HotD character you really liked for the combined 12 minutes he was on screen? These people don't know how TV works, bestie if they were writing for the audience ratings buddie canon would've already happened.

[theyjusthowl]

No for real tho bc the 911 Thanksgiving reel on Instagram is full of #ThankfulForTommyKinnard and the idiocy. They gave us a great example of someone flawed and prejudiced to highlight that queer people aren't all sunshine and rainbows and perfection and somehow they overlooked what fundamentally makes Tommy Kinnard a great plot device, which is, again, his glaring hypocrisy. They just ran away with it because Tommy is a white, somewhat conventionally attractive male, and had the gall to say it was about queer representation as if HenRen or Tarlos never happened. That's bordering on M|M fetishisation, not about representation at all.

I'm so thankful for Tommy Kinnard as an eye opening experience for Buck so now he knows his past relationships didn't fail because he was dating the wrong gender, which is what that scene with the chick during the anniversary dinner is trying to convey imho. But I'm not hoping to see him again because the plot has been furthered and the device is no longer necessary, there is not much more that Buck can learn from this experience and pestering your ex who broke up with you civilly because your life projects are headed different paths is not okay and definitely not "working for the relationship". Piggybacking on an innocent promotional action that doesn't even include Tommy at all like an angry mob is also not okay and stalker behavior. Keep fandom to fandom spaces for the love of god.

This whole Tommy Kinard fiasco is the perfect example of how male-centric fandom is bc female LIs have been hated and had every kind of poison thrown at them (some even written in fics) for being much much much much much less of a shitty person. Ana was literally just a woman who made one potentially ableist comment and people were writing her as if she was an absolute MONSTER. Like can you imagine if Ana had a racist/sexist past? If she left Eddie on the curb for not being ready to date for whatever reason? If she almost outed someone through a shitty joke? If she consistently was shown to not give a single rat about what Eddie likes? People would be making petitions to have her executed in canon. And yet Tommy fucking Kinard has done every single one of those things in canon and he’s got one of the most rabid and annoying fanbase ever. Just bc he’s a white man who was kissing another man.

[spirk-trek]

Common Ground Fanzine Covers | Lorraine Brevig, 2009

[anetherealpoetess]

shipping discourse is so crucial because it encourages people to examine and re-examine their perceptions of female characters. when we actively think about why a ship feels comfortable or uncomfortable, we are less likely to be swayed by patriarchal notions of womanhood disguised as progressive ideals within fandoms.

female-dominated spaces, like many fandoms, are growing more conservative in tone, especially around complex female characters, and there is a growing discomfort with heroines attracted to villains. this trend parallels the conservative impulse to judge a person's morality based on their reading preferences. (a bad, bad thing.)

we are seeing a huge shift towards puritanical ideals of female purity (check out the trad-wifers on tiktok), and it is a rot seeping into fandoms. we have to keep shipping discourse alive. we have to keep talking about female characters and their complicated relationships with themselves, but also with other characters, including their attraction to morally-grey or outright villainous characters. keep asking people to examine and re-examine their perceptions of womanhood. keep them thinking.

we cannot let our fandoms reduce complex female characters and their relationships to simple moral statements. this approach creates a pipeline to conservative radicalisation, where the only shipping discourse allowed is through a tiny patriarchal lens. fandoms are spaces were we should explore, brainstorm, and celebrate female complexity, resisting the urge to flatten characters and their relationships into 'good' or 'bad' based on narrow conservative ideas of female purity.

[graendoll]

A number of fanfiction authors are pulling their fics from Ao3 because people are illegally selling bound copies of these fics on etsy.

Pretty sure this hasn't happened to any of my stories. And I have given permission to folks to bind copies for personal use, which is perfectly legal and just and this post does not apply to those situations.

But this needs to be said:

If you are the kind of person who would download something from Ao3....bind it....and sell it on Etsy...you're dead to me.

The fact that people have the balls to take creative works that aren't theirs, that are provided for free to the world because of the joy it brings authors to share their stories with people who love the characters as much as we do, and turn around and sell them for HUNDREDS of dollars is gross and morally corrupt.

And the people who buy these copies, knowing they are putting the entire world of fanfic at risk, are just as bad.

It is ILLEGAL to sell fanfiction. It is immoral to buy it.

Fanfic exists in a liminal space where writers are protected because no money exchanges hands. The greed of a few is going to fuck it up for the rest of us. If you see bound fics for sale, please report the sellers.

[housederiva]

Is it just me or is there way less fanart being made for this game than the previous ones? Kind of makes me sad, I remember with dai I could check the tags every few hours and find something new weeks after launch, now I only can get away with only looking a few times and week and miss nothing.

I don't think that's Veilguard exclusive.

Things I and my mutuals draw now are getting less notes/reblogs than they did even one year ago, regardless of the fandom. Fanfiction is getting less comments and kudos on ao3 too (not that they were getting many comments in the first place) Less gifs are being made because gif makers weren't getting reblogs. Hell, most of the post I make have a huge discrepancy between likes and reblogs and add polls into that? A thousand people voted on something and only a dozen people reblog it. It's a hollowing feeling when you realise you're calling out to an empty void, I don't blame people for creating less art because of that.

I don't see a vast majority of the people who follow me in my notes because I have likes disabled. Multiple times someone has sent me an ask apologizing for spamming me with likes and I don't understand it? That is not a bad thing And unless you reblogged anything along the way, I didn't even realise you were doing it in the first place. And the people whose notes I do see are not annoying in the slightest, I love the tags you add and I'm sure the original poster does even more so

I'm not trying to shame anyone Into interacting with the fandom spaces they're in but the whole point of Tumblr and what makes it a blogging platform and not social media is that this is a show and tell website. You're supposed to look at something you think is cool and then wave it around for your followers to see and then they pick it up and do the same regardless of how old it is

When you reblog an ask game from someone it used to be common courtesy to send that person one of the asks from it. Folks used to leave comments analysing paragraphs from stories people wrote and theorising about what would happen next on every chapter. We used to send each other asks just asking about our ocs unprompted

If there's no interaction or community when you create something, then what's the point of creating it? It sucks that fandom is morphing into something to be consumed and thrown away the second it's more than a week old unless you're one of a handful of blogs that got lucky and picked up traction at just the right moment

I'm sorry for the rant but I get emotional when I think about the decay of fandom spaces for too long. And this goes without saying, but you guys can reblog anything on my dash if the button isn't disabled on it

[swiftmitsu]

*places Nightmare in your hands*

Here is your King, my liege 👑✨

[montesmithart]

“ It was only the sun back then. She would waddle around and have the misfortune of attracting other weird lively planets to stick to her other end, although she never disliked them, in fact, she loved them! It was company for her billion years of existence and it was nice to conversate with them until they eventually turned into a ball on her body, to thrive off of her and live peacefully. Neptune, her last visitor, wasn't so lucky to share the same pleasant chat with her like the previous others did. He was sick. Infected with a parasite that only wanted to be included too. Bursting out of his body and taking over his shape, Pluto stayed and remained. The sun tried to get rid of Pluto but failed as he was attached to her, physically and emotionally. Any other planet that dared try to take out Pluto would only help elongate his new shared body, ending the cycle of beautiful colors for good with his own

The sun tolerates him now. Has to. No matter what he is

Pluto is a planet too. ”

-

Character belongs to me, design and backstory by boogn on Toyhouse! Please check out their work and characters, it’s incredibly beautiful 💛

[mobius-m-mobius]

#too soon NASA... too soon 😅🎄

[aroaceleovaldez]

i think the thing i'm most disappointed about with riordanverse fandom now versus like 2014 is not only has the fandom not gotten any less racist or queerphobic or ableist (in fact in some regards its gotten worse!) but now it's just boring too. like there's no fandom infrastructure anymore - the community these days is almost entirely source material-driven - and you deviate from canon even slightly people get weird about it. whatever happened to the post-HoO fanon boom. the fandom needs to get weirder again. and self-sufficient. and less offensive.

[kinardscake]

Every day we are one day closer to getting BTS pics from the set confirming that Lou will indeed be a part of S8 and that Buck and Tommy will continue to thrive ✨ (or we get the official confirmation first but it all will still mean the same. Tommy's not going anywhere✨🥰)

[dead8bit]

hmmm ihnmaims fans on tiktok acting like they havent been in a fandom space before . i say we subject AM to the wonders and horrors of the internet !! pls keep the art , cosplays , and fanfics coming i say 🤷🙎

[herefortheships]

Lydia sleeping on one side of the bed like she's leaving a space open for Betelgeuse at the end there. 😌

No but seriously she totally is? Subconsciously there's a space for him in her life always. I know I keep saying this, but she totally has feelings for him, buried inside her. What those feelings actually are is something she has to figure out. (She started that journey in BJBJ; she even got to face him and banish him and all. Did that manage whatever feelings she has for him though? Nope).

She's sleeping alone and yet she's leaving all that space next to her like she's sleeping with a spouse. The visual storytelling here implies she's longing for someone to take that space.

And who else is she longing for if not Betelgeuse? It's not Richard, hello. Ok it's past midnight and I'm exhausted so maybe I'm reaching. But this makes sense to me rn so I'm posting.

[otrtbs]

anyway if a tumblr post of mine ever inspires any of yall to write anything for fandom i think that’s rad and really cool and you should 100% write it + link me to it !!

[menlikeair]

NEW YORK AINT THE SAME WITHOUT YOU. [aidan shaw x fem!afab!reader]

mdni. smut. mentions of alcohol, mentions of cheating. intoxication. language. oral m receiving. angst! unprotected sex, aidan is kind of an asshole, be warned.

words: 3.3k

new york city drummed on balmy summer nights and the heat only amplified its pulse. people from all walks of life were carving out their own spaces in a city that never slept.

except for you, alone in your apartment. left to your own devices with nothing but the hum of sparse traffic outside and the patter of rain against your window. it poured heavily and bounced from the pavement, adding a rhythmic backdrop to the humid summer night.

the city seemed to mock your solitude with the straight downpour.

on the other side of chelsea, in stark contrast to your state, aidan stepped out of the club into a relentless sheet of rain, his mind a whirlwind. neon lights reflected off the wet pavement, casting a glow around him.

betrayal still stung, and in true aidan shaw fashion, rain or shine, baby, he had once told you. he kept his promises.

the street bloomed white under two jittered flashes of lightning.

“juliet, give me my sin again!” he shouted, his voice cracked and carried a lazy slur. if you hadn’t known this tone so well, you’d almost mistake it for a teenager shittily spewing out shakespeare in hopes of getting some while his little juliet’s parents weren’t home.

you stepped from the bed and to the window to confirm what you already knew. it only took a small squint through the flowy curtains. it would almost be romantic if he wasn’t sopping wet and pathetic with a cocky shit-eating grin plastered across his handsome face as he caught a glimpse of you peering down at him.

you paced down each step before slinging the walk-up apartment’s heavy oak door open.

he leaned forward with both hands against the stairs gate, trying to keep his balance as the water soaked through his clothes and he laughed deeply to himself.

“really cute, but in case you didn’t notice, people live here, romeo.” you hissed and reached down to pull him up the stairs by the collar of his shirt.

aidan trudged up the narrow staircase closely behind you as you stomped. each step creaked under his weight.

“that was stupid, wasn’t even funny,” you mumble and glance at him from over your shoulder as your hands fumble with the keys in the lock.

“i come by it honestly.” he placed his hand over his heart and grinned mockingly.

the air inside your place was thick with the scent of fresh paint and sawdust. remnants of ongoing renovations.

he stumbled slightly, catching himself on the doorframe as he craned his neck to look around you. he surveyed the construction disaster of your so-called ‘living room.’

“well, look at you, little miss la-dee-da.” he pressed past you through the entrance.

“you’re dripping all over my rug,” you muttered from behind him.

“am i?” he sneered back at you.

his gaze flickered to the half-finished bookshelf in the corner.

“i’m quite the handyman, sugar.” he declared as he stripped himself of his jacket and tossed it onto a loveseat sitting awkwardly in the middle of the room.

“could’ve done this for you in a day if you kept me around long enough…” his finger glided over the drywall dust that had collected on a stack of books against the wall before turning to walk closer to you.

“so. what’s new, pussy-cat?”

the tone in his voice seemed to imply he was toying with you. the response was caught in your throat like an air bubble with no escape way.

you studied him quickly, almost obsessively. everything about him was different. they say hair holds memory, and for your own sake, you hoped that had been true. aidan had rid himself of his lengthy cupid curls, and as his broadly toned abdomen pressed against his clinging white dress shirt, you guessed a gym membership was included in the deal.

“what are you doing here, aidan?” you tiredly muttered, trying to hide any expression of shame that dared to ghost across your expression.

“thought i’d see what you were up to, troublemaker.” he grinned deviously, raising his eyebrows as he swayed a bit. he slowly turned on his heels to continue his track around your disastrous living room.

“man, the tunnel! great little place, you been?” he leaned down to pick and prod around at all of the misplaced trinkets on your coffee table. a dull thump of an overplayed club hit rang through his ears, and a few too many straight whiskeys clung to him.

you glanced at him and your mouth fell into a slightly o-shape in a lousy attempt to force the words out of your throat.

the audacity.

you rolled your eyes, “yeah, the tunnel. heard of it.” you mocked back sarcastically.

he hummed in response before letting a short huff of breath out. he turned to face you once again.

“anyway,” he raised his eyebrows and stepped close. too close for comfort. his broad frame towering over you made your heart thump harder and your mouth go dry.

“i think you got some explainin’ to do, little lady.” he expressively pouted his bottom lip.

“you look…different…” you squeaked embarrassingly in response and cleared your throat to divert the attention away from yourself.

“i thought you’d like it.. look like one of those limp-dick wall-street boys you’ve been runnin’ around with lately..” he grinned as his hands wrapped around the small of your waist to manually pull your body closer to his, leaving a suffocatingly insufficient amount of space between the two of you.

his words took you by surprise. on very rare occasions had you heard the man speak with hostility, it just wasn’t his thing, so you wondered why the words left his lips so naturally and smoothly.

“you’re very drunk..” your hands landed on his wide shoulders as you arched your back in a lousy attempt to create any amount of extra space with the man who effortlessly towered over you.

“no, ma, i ain’t.” his deep voice mocked an exaggerated southern drawl as his body leaned closer to dispel the newly added space.

you huffed, exasperated. a strap from your ivory nightdress slipped down your shoulder. you brought a hand up and pinched the bridge of your nose in frustration and took a step away from his grasp.

images of a night months ago flashed through your mind. you remembered the dull headache that pounded between your eyes as sunlight poured through your apartment's cracked window. slamming doors and jumping up to run to the window, hoarsely yelling out for aidan, to tell him it wasn’t what it looked like.

but it was exactly what it looked like.

some lousy bartender with a pierced eyebrow sprawled across your bed right beside you in his underwear, there was no way to explain.

so, you didn’t.

you took your last look at aidan as he quickly hurried away from your apartment for the last time. until now. no email with an explanation or apology. no phone calls, no letters. and, at last, he was here for his closure.

he stepped away and leaned back against his palms on the island bar that separated your tiny living room and kitchen. an unfamiliarly smug smirk painted across his defined face. you caught a glimpse of his ribcage snugly pressed against the damp white fabric of his dress shirt, the newly toned muscle between each column of bone made your breath hitch. rainwater trickled from his brow onto the linoleum below his feet.

“aidan, i’m sorry,” you muttered apologetically. your expression softened as you searched for the words to explain, “i was very drunk and my friends.. they wouldn’t stop pressuring me.” your teeth sunk into your bottom lip as you continued.

“always in my ear about me losing my youth dating someone older, and—”

the shame flashed across your face sent a fresh wave of irritation through him. a deep hum from aidan stopped you and you watched as he tilted his head to the side to examine you. his hard expression didn’t change and your blood went cold as you realized that soft spot in his heart for you had long since turned rock-solid.

he adjusted his hips as his thick length twitched impatiently against his left thigh.

“you left me hangin’, baby, high and dry..”

he sucked his left cheek between his teeth and tsked, glancing down at his feet and he leaned back further against his palms, stretching his toned body.

you threw your hands up with a shrug of your shoulders in defeat “i’m sorry, i don’t know what else to say…”

aidan took one hand he was leaning against and completely grasped around your wrist to pull you a step closer.

“come here. what are you standing so far for?” he relaxed, looking down at you as he examined the surprised micro-expressions lighting your face up. the feeling of your wrist in his hand made his already-drunk thoughts spin. his jaw went slack as his body pressed into you with ease.

“you can’t just do this.” you hoarsely stammered, the pressure around your wrist applying as he pulled you closer.

“do what?” the man grinned against you teasingly. he turned his body and boxed you into the counter, bracketing you against the faux marble.

aidan's broad six-foot-five frame completely engulfed you. his hand released your wrist before snaking around your hips to pull you into his torso.

“busting in like you own the place and—” you sunk your teeth into your bottom lip and pressed into him closer, motioning over his body with your eyes

“this.”

you nervously toyed with the neckline of his shirt, slipping your fingers underneath to slide against his collarbone.

aidan’s breath hitched as your fingers traced against him. his eyes darkened, and he leaned in closer. the heat between you was palpable, and every inch of your body was hyper-aware of his proximity.

he ducked his head down and hunched over you, slowly pressing a kiss against your mouth and using his tongue to push through your lips like an intruder. you melted into him. thoughtlessly, like second nature.

and for a sudden, hopeless moment, you missed him. you missed his weight against you. his lips on yours just like this, slacking your jaw to allow his hot tongue to slip against yours as his hungry hands palmed your ass through a thin and nearly iridescent night dress.

you felt his thickness twitch against you, behind the constricting material of his tightening dress pants.

you were drunk on the way he smelled.

it was overtly masculine, everything about him was and always had been. heavy, earthy, and warm, the tinge of whiskey lingered on his lips and the scent of oak on his skin long after he’d left his workshop.

he pulled away to step forward, guide you into the living room, and sit in the heavy oak chair he’d designed with his own hands, sprawled back cockily. it creaked beneath his weight.

go on, baby.

you didn’t know whether it was his husky voice that had commanded you or your subconscious guiding you to pay your karma, but you obliged.

watching him loosen his belt, you lowered yourself to your knees and scooted forward.

“pretty girl,” he muttered to himself and tsked his tongue against his teeth in thought.

“you hurt me, you know that?” he felt better when he wasn’t made of steel with you.

his head tilted to the side to examine your flushed face and you instinctively pulled him out of his boxers. you craned your neck forward to trail a lick up the underside of his cock. his familiarity and warmth made heat coil low in your belly, pooling wet and anxious between your legs. he held you off, just enough so that he could watch you struggle forward trying to take him into your mouth fully.

he twitched against your tongue, huffing out a sharp breath. the uneven hitch of his breath urged you to continue and you take him into your mouth further. your throat constricted wildly, and he hissed through his teeth.

the two of you belonged to each other once again, the salvia pooling in your mouth, running down his length as your mouth and lips did the apologizing that your words couldn’t, belonged to him. his hand at the back of your head which felt like security, raising his hips to fuck up into your mouth. his groans belonged to you, just as they always had.

you whimpered softly as he tugged your hair to pull you from his flushed cock. a line of spit hung off your bottom lip, sticking to your chin. you wiped away tears from your clumped eyelashes with the back of your hand and sunk your teeth into your plump bottom lip eagerly. the need to please him was sudden and violent. his strong hand caught in the soft tangle of your hair.

his face was stricken with an expression you couldn’t quite grasp. with his nostrils flared and jaw clenched, you could recognize anger. but his softened gaze and furrowed eyebrows felt like sincerity, guilt. he couldn’t tell if he wanted to fuck a lousy apology out of you or send you to bed and leave as if nothing had ever happened in his drunken haze.

he used his large hand to wrap around his shaft and drag his slick tip against your open lips before pulling you down onto him once again.

your apology was warm around him, pressing up against the back of your throat.

it hurt in the way it was supposed to hurt — your guilt scorching away inside you.

he forced you down, filling your mouth with his cock, tears clouded your vision. your whimpers were garbled, broken things around his cock.

he’d been the one to teach you how to take it without a fuss, maybe he didn’t hear you over the resounding crashes of thunder and your window rattling on his hinges. couldn’t see the tears welling when you fluttered your eyes open up to him as he tilted his head back against the chair in a guilt-stricken haze of pleasure.

his gaze fell onto you, and his strong hand released the grasp on your hair.

“come here.” the man muttered, motioning you up with his head.

your fingers hooked at the straps of the flowing night-dressed and it fell to pool around your ankles. you stepped out of it, slipped onto his lap to straddle him, and closed your eyes as you sunk onto him with ease. he didn’t give you time to adjust to him before he rocked his hips to fill you completely.

a sharp hiss of an inhale left through your teeth as his tip reached far deeper than you had been used to in your time apart.

he leaned forward and groaned against your warm skin as his hips guided themselves upwards, he closed his eyes. his hands grasp around your waist to steady you and hold you in place as your legs shook in response. his head dipped down and his lips and tongue sloppily grazed your nipple.

“ ‘m sorry. ” your words left your lips like a soft cry as his cock reached deeply inside you, making your head fall backward, torso and breasts arching further against his mouth.

“you’re always doin’ shit you need to be sorry for.” he grunted into your skin and pulled you from his cock with both hands on the sides of your waist. he angled himself back and slowly rocked into you with a moan.

“gotta have the patience of a fuckin’ saint with you.” his jaw clenched as his thrusts went harder, deeper than you could handle.

you whined, an attempt to writhe away from him, but it was no use. you were his, and his strong hands around you made it impossible to lift yourself from him. your fingers dug into his wide shoulders over the translucent material of his damp shirt.

“it’s too much, it’s—” you took a ragged gasp as he pressed deep inside, screwing your eyes tightly shut.

he leaned closer as your body cautiously moved up and down.

any expression of guilt or shame had long been replaced by something else. anger, hunger, and he wanted you to feel it.

“it hurts, baby? does it?” he tilted his head with his slack jaw, a ghost of a smirk tugged the corner of his lip while watching you nod weakly through half-lidded eyes.

his free hand reached between you to draw slow circles against your swollen clit with the pad of his thumb.

“how bad does it hurt?” he sneered at you. his words were like venom. any ounce of sympathy had long since flown out of the window by now. he hoped it hurt.

at least this is the type of pain you could contort and manipulate into some kind of unsettling pleasure. you should consider yourself lucky.

he pressed further and you arched forward with a gasp, your lips trembled as they tried to form words that were no longer there, letting out a desperate sequence of moans, whimpers, and sobs. you answered his thrusts with weak rolls of your hips, pulsing around him. enveloping him. your body seemed to respond with a will of its own.

you thread your fingers into his hair at the nape of his neck. you leaned forward to kiss him, sloppily and still salty from his pre-cum. your surrender was sweet on his tongue and he trapped it in his mouth, it belonged to him, anyway.

his thumb continued its path against your clit, spelling his name against you slowly, long and drawn out so you wouldn’t forget.

you were close, desperately so, and your hand slipped down to brace yourself against his chest. you pant into his mouth, sinking and drawing him further inside. he buried his face into your neck, and rocked his hips against you. he felt your throat constrict, your breasts heaving against his chest as he lazily worked his name against your clit with the pad of his thumb, over and over.

you kept making those pretty sounds, clasping your fingers into his hair and holding yourself steady on his broad chest. his orgasm convulsed through him as he moaned, a ripping noise from his mouth that ricocheted through his brain and against the thin skin of your neck. he rocked unthinkingly into you, riding out the rolling tremors that racked his body.

aidan swallowed unevenly, his breath escaping his swollen lips in shaky bursts. his thumb left your swollen clitoris. you whined sweetly in response, trying to rock yourself against his toned naval for any kind of friction. the constricting tightness as you wordlessly begged for more made his hips jolt in over-sensitivity. the feeling dizzied him, striking into the sides of his skull.

he braced himself and stands with your legs wrapped around his waist.

he carried you through the hallway effortlessly and laid you onto the unmade bed with ease.

when he pulled out, you whined and writhed in discomfort, the feeling of anxious excitement pooled somewhere deep in the pit of your stomach. you wanted him, his hungry mouth against you, coaxing you to an undeserving climax with his tongue. not tonight.

he dropped his pants around his ankles and stepped out. from his thighs, he pulled the elastic waistband of his boxers back around his hips snugly and tugged the uncomfortably damp shirt over his head.

aidan watched as he leaked from between your legs, coating your inner thighs. he reached between to gather a bit of it. he brought his two middle fingers up to press past your lips and onto your tongue, watching intently through bleary eyes as you suck him clean.

with a soft groan, he laid down to pull you onto your side and flush against him. he wrapped his arms around you, tucking your head under his chin. you leaned forward to press a ghost of a kiss against his neck.

every breath you took sent the thud of your heartbeat thumping through your head.

you could feel the man radiating heat, his eyes fluttered closed tiredly. you listened intently to the rapid thrum of his heart against his chest.

[redwinterroses]

Okay so lately I've seen two big discussions:

a) How content creators are "invading" fan spaces and interacting with fan content, and how they should know this isn't acceptable. How they certainly shouldn't interact with /neg content, especially in front of an audience, but even with positive things like fanart and memes they should keep it to themselves and either enjoy in silence or just stay away altogether

b) If you love a piece of art or a fic, comment on it! reblog it! Don't hide your appreciation in a private chat where the author never gets to see, here's a story about someone who decided to delete all their fics because they found out that they had a bunch of people enthusiastically chatting about them in a private discord but none of those people understood how much it means to an author or artist to get that kind of feedback directly

...Y'all seeing the problem here? Obviously, there is an extreme on each end of this spectrum. Yeah, I'm not a fan of a content creator taking fan content and using it to mock the fanbase (I'm looking at you, Steven Moffat) and obviously there is some discernment that authors etc need to have because if you read enough fic about your work there's a chance you can get accused of stealing ideas from your fans.

And at the other end, an author who finds out about a thriving discord screaming about their work but never gets any comments or direct feedback has every right to be frustrated and hurt by that. If they choose to stop writing for those "fans" then that is 100% their prerogative.

But you can't hold both extremes. You can't demand that CCs stay out of fandom spaces and never engage with the cringy or critical stuff -- fans put it out there to be seen, and CCs have every right to engage with things that are made about their content. And if you DO want to demand that, then you can't turn around and say "reblog, don't just like!" and "authors need your feedback! comments feed them! they deserve to know that you enjoyed what they put so much work into!"

The right to engage with people who read/view/enjoy your work doesn't go away when your audience reaches a certain perceived size. There is a nuanced conversation to be had about what's good for the mental health of a creator, and where fans can go too far, but generally speaking: if a fan puts it out into the world, there is literally no reason why the person they're a fan of should have to not engage. Creators who respect fandom hashtags and such are commendable, but that is not and should never be the expectation.

If you don't want someone to see it, don't put it on the internet, plain and simple.

Stop trying to gatekeep the people who gave you the storyworlds you're playing in to begin with. Sometimes they're going to be assholes about it, because humans are unfortunately like that. But that's their right, just like it's your right to create cringy memes and, shall we say, "wildly inventive" fic about the stories and characters you're borrowing from them. (And, important side note, it's also your right to stop being a fan of that franchise/person/concept if you don't like how they interact.)

Moral of the story: comment on fic, tag the art, and stop freaking out every time a CC sees your insane tier list that has their name on it.