#not the point of those fics like probably at least 90% of the time i feel like

[and-i-said-fewer]

ok ok ok ok ok but like where. where do i find the fics that go 200% on the ‘jaskier and geralt don’t know how to communicate healthily (read: communicate at all) on issues between themselves’ angle

i NEED them i need them soooooo bad

[vroomvroomcircuit]

You pulling in made me wish your Dad pulled out

(A/N): Thank you to @foreveralbon for workshopping this fic with me with this prompt. I don't know what to do if you weren't my muse.

Summary: Charles pissed off his neighbor with his parking. Her answers are notes taped to his car window. How can evolve more out of that?

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x female!reader

Wordcount: 1.6k

🏎Masterlist🏎 ________________________

(Y/N) knows that she isn’t the most professional car parker. She should never start a career as a valet for sure. After all, she needed a second attempt on her own practical test to attain her drivers license.

But there is this one neighbor of hers. She doesn’t know what he looks like, what his name is or where he even lives. But (Y/N) knows one thing for sure: He is a shit parker.

Like, he is the worst person at parking that has ever walked the world. If he could, he probably would park his oh so expensive car onto other cars. But she tries to not let that get too close to her. After all, we just talk about parking spaces and it’s not worth getting her blood pressure up over it.

But (Y/N) found her tipping point.

Her whole morning has been a shit show. Her alarm went off, but she accidentally turned it off instead of giving herself another five minutes of sleep. Five minutes turned into 45. That meant the young woman had to rush through her usual morning routine and she is 90 % sure that she put at least one clothing item on the wrong way.

But it’s ok, she is still on time. She just needs to get out of the car par-

This is where (Y/N) last thread of patience with that neighbor snaps in two like a potato chip, crisp and unclean. This person parked the front half of his car in a way that completely blocks (Y/N)’s rear end from exiting the car in a way that does not hinder the sidewalk.

It takes a solid seven minutes to get out of her spot, trying not to scratch hers or another car. Arriving a few minutes late at work because of that and receiving a reprimand from her boss is really the young woman’s last straw. On her lunch break she does some snooping on the internet and comes across a really fine find. It’s worth the price and shipping cost to her.

Actually, she can’t wait for the week it is supposed to take to arrive at her doorstep.

But the time between that particular day and the day of arrival do fly by when you use it getting madder and madder at the dickhead that is unable to park like a normal person.

The next occurrence doesn’t take long after (Y/N)’s package finally arrives. She wanted to park her vehicle in her usual spot when Mr. Ferrari already took his and her own too. How can one person be such an asshole?

(Y/N) takes one of the business card sized cuts out of her glove box and puts it in the slit of the black car’s window. Satisfied with her work she steps back into her vehicle and looks for a different spot, ending up walking several minutes back to her apartment building, having to look somewhere farther away.

Charles can see from a distance that there is a card at his car’s windowshield. Which makes him suspicious. Surely no one thinks that he wants to sell his car for cheap, so it can’t be one of those car handler’s business cards. Maybe it’s a new ruse of thieves, trying to get him to stand long enough at his car to read it and be able to steal his car. Or they are kidnappers. Anyways, he makes quick work of putting the card into his pocket and drives off at a neck breaking speed.

When he arrives at his destination, the Monegasque pulls the piece of paper out and reads it. “The way you pulled in makes me wish your dad pulled out”, he reads aloud, laughing a little to himself.

He has to admit that he might not be the best at parking. Who is he even kidding, he would win the world championship at being the worst car parker possible. But the thought of someone getting that angered over his non-existent skills.

It’s something that makes him happy throughout his entire day. Which is his main reason to try and look how much he can piss that particular neighbor off even more.

So Charles starts parking even worse. If he also starts on the habit of watching out of his window more often now, he would claim it is just a coincidence. But something in him wants to meet that neighbor.

That person that gets more and more creative with their insults. One time they called him an obstacle to evolution. The other day the business card said something along the lines of him belonging to the asshole club now.

Another, a handwritten, note asked him not to reproduce. The neighbor even left a condom for him. This made Charles laugh so loudly, that (Y/N) looked out her opened window.

She just finished one of the worst shifts she ever had since starting that job and all she wants is just a quiet evening to come down from the stress. Just the noise of the laugh is enough to set her off again.

Seeing her handsome neighbor from under her apartment pocketing the note and condom she left just minutes earlier isn’t what she expected. Watching him opening the car, sitting down and driving off is even less on her list.

It kind of destroys her world view, realizing that hot neighbor and asshole parker are the same person. In the last couple of weeks (Y/N) started to get some fun out of the mean comments she left at the black Ferrari’s window. This also could be her chance to finally make a move on him.

The young woman waits for the brunette to return with his car and stays seated on her couch for another couple minutes, for extra measure of course. After that, she leaves the apartment building with her prepared note and tapes it to the car’s rear window.

Charles on the other side stays glued to his window as soon as he enters his apartment. He finally wants to catch the person that gets angrier and angrier each time he parks in an outrageous way in the act.

Seeing the beautiful neighbor, who lives above him, sticking another note to his car makes his heart flutter in an unexpected way. For some time now he wanted to get to know her and if everything went according to his original plan, ask her out on a date. But maybe he can now use this to his advantage.

As soon as the beautiful neighbor is back in the building Charles waits an extra couple minutes before he once again makes his way to his car.

Running over his vehicle with a pep in his step, Charles is kind of excited about what insults or threats await him now. He has to admit, he actually parked pretty decently. Or as decent as he is able to. So the note has to be at least a little bit nicer than the previous ones.

“Hey neighbor. I thought instead of shitting on you and your parking skills even more, I want you to help and get better. I may not be a driving teacher, but helping you wouldn’t make your skills worse. Just text me with the times you are available at ;)” signed with (Y/N)’s name and number.

It’s kind of funny to explain to the press later how Charles met (Y/N) and became her boyfriend.

"Yeah, well I know that my driving has become sort of a, a meme,” he answers when asked a week after his announcement on instagram, “And my neighbor wasn’t too fond of it either. So she started to leave me these really funny, but also really aggressive notes at my car. One said something like I won the inconsiderate Parker Price. Which made me quite proud.” This entices a laugh out of the journalist. “Yeah, (Y/N) has a really good way with words, I fear. But in the end she offered me some parking lessons.” Charles smiles and thinks back to them.

He had texted (Y/N) immediately and they set up a date for the lesson two days away. But they still continued to text non stop and by the time they met up, it felt like they had been friends for years.

Which didn’t stop (Y/N) raging at Charles after his fifth failed attempt of parking his car according to her instructions. “I don’t believe you anymore. With the way you park you are not from Monaco but the deepest and wildest parts of Italy! Your Ferrari seems really fitting now!” This drew a laugh out of him until she graced him with the meanest look he didn’t expect her to be able to muster up.

“How about dinner as a thank you and apology?” He asked sheepishly, trying both to diffuse the situation and make his move. Why not shoot his shot right now?

Luckily the young woman agreed.

“In the end my parking skills weren’t enough to win her over, but my charm was what scored me a second date.”

And a third. A relationship. After some more funny parking jokes and him kneeling down on one knee with a ring and the promise to take lessons to keep their future family safe he even scored himself his unexpected forever.

[bookish-bogwitch]

Thank you @roomwithanopenfire, @rimeswithpurple, @blackberrysummerblog, @nausikaaa, @larkral,

@hushed-chorus, @alexalexinii, @monbons, @whatevertheweather, @run-for-chamo-miles,

@artsyunderstudy, @mooncello, @brilla-brilla-estrellita, @forabeatofadrum, and @aristocratic-otter for the tags over the past few weeks. I've had a crazy month (90% in crazy a good way) and too frazzled to come up with my own WIP posts, but have enjoyed reading yours and being included.

Here are six ten moody little sentence from Chapter 11 of Basil Pitch's Diary. (In case you missed it, I posted Ch. 10, September, a few weeks ago, then fled the country.) Baz is hanging in in Niall and Dev's room:

The last time I was here with Niall, he’d told me to hold out for more than ear scritches and the occasional carrot. Now we sat on his bed with a chessboard between us. “Baz,” Niall said quietly. “What are you doing?”  “Beating you.” I moved my queen to menace his remaining bishop. “With Snow, I mean.” Niall did that thing where the rook and king hop around, which shouldn’t be allowed, and I realized he’d won. Again. Somewhere, in a parallel universe, there is a me who grew up with someone to play against, demolishing a Niall who never went to math camp.

Below the cut: musing, a posting plan, and more tags.

Musing: I've actually written a ton since the last chapter even though I've been AWOL, but for a while no matter what I wrote, Baz felt out of character. I'd write a scene, like it, and then think "but why is he doing this?" Then I'd rewrite with Baz behaving completely differently, and that also felt OOC.

I worried that I'd somehow doomed myself with inconsistent characterization, but then I figured it out: Baz at this point is deeply inconsistent. He presents himself to the world one way, he tells the reader / himself that he's something else, and deep down he's a secret third thing. And sometimes his masks slip.

To some extent this is every unreliable narrator. But boyo has REALLY tangled himself up at this point. Something's gotta give. Until it does--which it will, soon--I have to be very clear in my mind, even if Baz isn't, about which Baz is driving the Baz at any given moment.

A lot of you can do that sort of thing intuitively. I can't. So I've been building this out (showing you just the headers b/c spoilers):

This might stultify some (most?) of you. For me, though, it's freeing. When my brain isn't trying to keep track of everything, my imagination can unfurl.

"'Everything'?" you ask. "This isn't that plotty a fic." It's not, but it's already 2.5x longer than anything else I've written, which means developing skills I haven't needed before. Anyway, my BPD chart and I are having fun. We're very happy together.

Posting Plan

I pushed myself to get Ch. 10 up before leaving home for three weeks, because Ch. 9 had ended on such a wretched note. While I was happy to have gotten it up, I didn't love the self-imposed time crunch (though betas @cutestkilla, @facewithoutheart, and @thewholelemon were fuckin' heroes). Feeling rushed had me stressing and second-guessing choices that were probably fine.

My plan now is to pause updates until I have at least a very rough first draft of the final chapter, then post it all at regular intervals. I know a longish pause means some folks who'd been reading along will wait until it's complete, if they return at all. To those folks--sorry, and I get it, and thank you for reading in the first place, and I love you.

Tags and shy waves to @brendughh  @beastmonstertitan  @carryonsimoncarryonbaz  @carryonmylovelies  @creepyspice

@comesitintheclover @cows4247 @confused-bi-queer @artsyunderstudy@chen-chen-chen-again-chen

@chronicallyhomoerotic @drowninginships @dragoneggos @excalisbury @emeryhall

@erzbethluna @ebbpettier @fight-surrender @fatalfangirl @gay-at-ikea

@fiend-for-culture @forabeatofadrum @foolofabookwyrm-activated @arthurkko @j-nipper-95

@gekkoinapeartree @goblindad-emoshit @henreyettah @hertragedyconnoisseur @hushed-chorus

@icarus-n-flames @ineffable-grimm-pitch @ic3-que3n @ionlydrinkhotwater @iamamythologicalcreature

 @ileadacharmedlife @ivelovedhimthroughworse @shrekgogurt @im-gettingby @youarenevertooold

@monbons @mooncello @raenestee @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @messofthejess

[demonictumble]

fic rec list (1/??? )

this is a fic recommendation list for whomever wants a good read. All of these are on AO3. I have not provided links, so just search them up!

If you do end up reading any of these, or really any fic in general, remember to leave the author comments!! They deserve them, esp because they do this for free and they deserve to know how beautiful their writing is and how appreciated they are.

My PSA: COMMENT ON FICS AND DONT TAKE AUTHORS FOR GRANTED

DC..

IMPORTANT NOTE I am not a religious fan where I only like a fic when it adheres to canon characterization or texts. I can enjoy fics even when they completely throw off what's actually canon and that's okay for me, but it might not be for you. So just keep this in mind and the back button exists for a reason if you don't like something.

Buy Back the Secrets by Sundiscus (incomplete)

Tim Drake and Kon El centered!! OH MY GODS. I could rave on and on about this fic all day but I'll have to keep it brief. I've reread at LEAST 5 times. It's brilliant. The writing, the plot, the characterizations!! They are incredible. If I had to use a phrase to describe it, it would be "identity shenanigans and timkon" but that simplifies the absolute masterpiece that it is SO MUCH

Executive Assistant to the Batman by heartslogos (complete)

Tim is basically Bruce Wayne's assistant and is desperately trying to avoid letting them know that he knows. This is complete crack, but it is hilarious. The writing is so funny and It's what I need after a bad day or anything tbh. It may not be completely true to characters or whatever, but it makes up for it a thousand times over in spirit and the laughs it's produced from me.

anything (not the title because literally ANYTHING) by IzzyMRDB

I can rave about them all day because the dc/batfam fics I have seen them right are all so delicious and I devoured them far too fast and momggg its just so good. and I love their writing style <3

Reverse Robin AU by yellow_cabellero (complete)

I CANNOT DO THIS SERIES JUSTICE WITH MY WORDS. IT is a must read for me. The writer writes spectacularly and the characterization, even though its a reverse robin, feels on point, especially considering the circumstances (Im a huge believer in circumstances shape a person's personality, which is what I think occurs beautifully in all of these fics). They're just so GOOD.

Also this author has a STEPH FIC that is stunning. 10/10. Steph is a character that doesn't get the appreciation she deserves, so this fic was especially more touching for me. It was terrific seeing her girl bossing in the 90s (IT ALSO FELT SO PERIOD ACCURATE CAN WE TALK ABOUT THAT). Not to mention, the author shows off character flaws in a believable manner and nobody is a Mary Sue and it's just EVERYUTHING IS JUST *chefs kiss* by them.

The Fishbowl by LordLuxury (complete)

This is Dick Grayson centered. THEY HAVE MADE A MASTERPIECE. I genuinely mean it. Dick is constantly trying to pull the family together, he is trying to be the glue as everything tries to go the opposite. LET THIS MAN HAVE HIS FAMILY. This had me in shambles. Bad Dad Bruce hurt me, but it was just so realistic. That's what gets me. The whole dynamics portrayed in The Fishbowl are so goddamn realistic and it feels so real. Everyone is flawed in their own way and its just... PLEASE READ IT I BEG OF YOU.

Love and Bruises by Acin_Grayson and Hoebiwan (complete)

Despite what the title may suggest, this is actually funny! Jason thinks Batman is abusing Bruce. And I just remember dying of laughter as I read this. Terrific! Would read and Will read again

Marvel (I am a movies fan so most if not all fics I recommend from here on out will be probably based on movies!)

Tennessee Outreach for Spider-Man and Friends by ciaconna

GREAT FIC. Harley (potato gun kid in one of the iron man movies for those who don't remember) gets an internship with Tony stark for college application reasons and its to help Spiderman. Peter Parker and Harley whateverhislastname is such a funny duo and they made the fic spectacular. Terrific writing omg.

Peter and the Jailbirds by beautifullights

I THINK THIS FIC HURT ME. I don't really remember much bc its been a year and a half, but I think my emotions remember because I feel mildly sad when I think about it. Peter is on the raft and bonds with the ex-avengers also on the raft. The premise of a teenager possibly spending the rest of his life in prison is terrible, but I swear this fic has funny moments and the conversations that occur are to die for because the WRITING. WHEW.

O Brother, Where Art Thou? by theskeptileptic

Tony survives and it's set after No Way Home. Where I'm pretty sure the only people dead are May and Pepper. Morgan saves the day by remembering her big brother (Im a sucker for big brother Peter arc). Peter is kind of a mini Tony in this one I think, which is such an interesting take. And it's such a coming home story and its just so beautiful.

Cross Overs:

Even Heroes Have the Right To Dream by Bounemr (complete)

mlb/dc crossover!! where marinate and Jon are retired superhero and go to college together! Great writing and plot with a good ending. Fluffy for the most part as far I as I can remember (it's been a year since I've read it so you know it's good if I can still remember)

Hired Hands by neighborhood_yogurt (incomplete)

Percy Jackson/ DC crossover!! It's been a while since I've read this one too but It's stuck with me. It's hilarious and I need to reread it but Percy is accidentally on Penguin's payroll because he's just a dumb blonde at heart, but it's okay we all love him. And Shenanigans occur. I don't remember exactly what happens so reminder to read this again for myself as well!

(IDK if any of these authors have tumblrs, if they do, someone please tag them and I will forever be in your debt)

[unmotivatedwrit3r]

Cheese of the Stringable Variety

damian wayne x reader

(A/N): I’ve been wanting to write something like this for a while now and it is by far the most niche thing I have ever written. I intended this to be around 1k, looked at the word count before I’d even gotten to the section I wanted to write this for, and then checked again at the end and viola 3k. I am of Arab-American heritage myself and slowly learning Arabic and connecting to my culture, but this type of string cheese has always been a part of my life and my role in my extended family. I also hope that those who don’t share these experiences can still enjoy this fic, if only for the amount of storybuilding that wormed it's way in. (Also worth mentioning that the having separate bedrooms has no cultural relevance whatsoever; I just like the concept.)

Note: reader is implied heavily to be of Middle Eastern heritage, though there are no features described. The region is also unspecified but the Arabic dialect is Levantine because that’s where my family is from. 

warnings: a lot of food mentions; a mild curse word in Arabic; use of a knife for food related things; discussions of extended family 

wc: ~ 3100

~~

On your way out the door in the morning, you took the braided cheese out of the fridge and left it on the counter, a post-it note on top of it. Leave out of the fridge! was scribbled hastily in your handwriting as you rushed to work. In the apartment behind you, you could hear the sink running. After a long night of patrol, Damian was fortunate his meeting started at eleven am and not eight am. 

Every time your phone screen lit up as you headed home in the evening, it taunted you with the time. You didn’t mean to be back so late; it would take hours to string the four braids of cheese you’d picked up from your جد, your grandfather, the day before. At this point in the evening, you’d probably have to get up earlier in the morning and finish it then. At least an early tomorrow would mean “no sleeping in” rather than “running on five hours of sleep” before a family function. You’d done it before. It sucked. 

You pulled your laptop and a couple other items from your bag before heading to take a shower and change into comfortable clothes. A sweatshirt of Damian’s caught your eye after you’d gotten changed, tossed haphazardly over the edge of your bed. You hung your damp towel in the bathroom before heading back into the kitchen. Halfway there, you turned and grabbed the sweatshirt, pulling it over your clothes. 

“مرحبا حبيبي,” you greeted Damian as he shut the front door behind him. Hello, my love. “How'd the meeting go?" 

“مرحبا أملي,” he replied, dropping a quick kiss on your cheek as he passed through the kitchen on his way to the bedroom.

Damian’s Arabic was better than yours. Every time he said something to you that you understood, a satisfied trill shot through your chest. Ameli, he called you this time. My hope. Damian had a handful of various pet names for you that he cycled through, many of them in Arabic. 

“The shelter proposal’s been fully approved,” he informed you, “so I’m expecting the distribution of funds to begin in the next few weeks.”

“Oh that’s great!” Setting up properly funded, city-wide animal care facilities was one of the first things Damian ever brought up to the WE board. “You've been working at that for years.” The microwave beeped and you silenced it quickly, pulling out the container of leftovers you’d been heating up. You opened the second container and covered it with the same paper towel before placing it in the microwave.  The timer was set once more for 90 seconds. Before the food was done heating up, Damian returned to the kitchen, work clothes traded for a compression shirt and shorts. He owned half a dozen of the exact same black compression shirts. They functioned most often as his first underlayer on patrol. 

“Here, Dames.” You held the first container out to him, a vegan pasta dish he made earlier in the week. It was still steaming.  

“Thank you, beloved.” Damian took the container and sat down at the table, eyes scanning something on his laptop. If you had to guess, it was probably the drugs case the entire family had been working on recently. The two of you had hosted Dick the other day, up from Blüdhaven following the same case. He’d stayed in Damian’s room while the two of you crashed in yours. Dick was at the manor now, but he’d promised to stop by before he went back home. Some part of you figured it was at least partially motivated by the fact that you were inevitably going to be taking home leftovers tomorrow. Dick had tried some before and loved it. He probably wanted some. You didn’t blame him; you already planned to be hoarding your favorites for yourself. (And Damian. But mostly for you. Your family wasn’t vegetarian.)

The microwave beeped again. You pulled the second container out before grabbing forks and making your way over to the table. Your dinner was mostly the same as Damian’s, but with chicken added into the dish. The two of you didn’t always store leftovers that way, but sometimes it was easier to create two separate servings if you expected to be eating at different times. Damian scribbled a note down on the pad of paper next to him and closed the laptop. 

“We’re finally raiding the first warehouse tonight,” he offered, accepting the fork you held out to him. The paper and pen were pushed to the side before Damian started eating. 

“Oh yeah?” You asked around a bite of food. “So that stakeout paid off then?” 

“It did. But Dick and Timothy are following other leads tonight so this won’t be the end. But it should be a good start.” 

“Good,” you agreed. “I’ll be glad when the operation’s dismantled. You wake me up if you need me when you get home, okay?” 

Damian nodded. 

You weren’t sure you actually believed he would wake you, but you knew Babs would even if he tried to convince her not to. Sometimes you thought being friends with Oracle was the only way you stayed somewhat sane while dating a bat. She sent you injury reports. Alfred’s injury reports, not the lame ones Damian, his father, and his siblings wrote in an effort to not get yelled at by their friends or S/Os. 

Dinner didn’t take long. You loaded the dishes into the dishwasher as Damian collected his duffel bag for patrol. 

“Love you.” Damian pressed a quick kiss to your lips and another to your temple before ducking out the window. 

“I love you too. See you tomorrow.” 

There wasn’t secret bunker in your apartment. There was a significant amount of both weaponry and uniform equipment and outside direct access to transportation to one. You watched Damian’s bike disappear behind a false wall before turning back inside. It may not be Gotham-saving, but you, too, had stuff to do. 

The microwave clock declared it just after ten pm by the time you’d completed the handful of household chores you wanted done—the ones you expected to have time for until you got home late. You deliberated for a moment before grabbing two braids of cheese and a bowl that your dad had given you for that express purpose. You’d leave the other two out and string them in the morning. Leaving the cheese out all day had done its job. When cold, it would snap too easily when you tried to string it, and take much longer to do. 

The speaker that lived in the kitchen turned on with a swooshing noise and an acknowledgement that it was connected to your phone via bluetooth. It was a little late for anything too upbeat, but you found a good playlist after only a minute or so of looking through them. You tied back any loose hair, washed your hands, and grabbed a small paring knife from a drawer before sitting down at the table. The knife, sharp as it was, cut through the plastic packaging with ease. 

You moved the empty plastic off to the side and unraveled a twist, cutting each end so that you had two thick pieces a little under a foot long. The second braid was left whole for now. Once you got started, it would be harder to find pieces yet to be strung under the stringy parts already finished. So you’d break apart the larger pieces as you finished the ones before. 

Your music kept you company over the next hour and a half. The huge pieces were pulled apart into larger pieces then into medium pieces then into smaller pieces before finally being teased apart into the stringy texture that gave the cheese its colloquial name. It was just before midnight when you graded your efforts adequate. You poked one final time through the two braids worth of cheese and pulled apart any of the pieces you thought were just a little too big before calling it a day. 

The bowl was full, and you covered it in plastic wrap before putting it in the fridge. In the morning, when you did the remaining two, you’d have to start a new bowl. There was no sense in leaving already strung cheese out on the counter. You washed the knife and tossed the plastic wrappers in the trash before sending a goodnight text off to Damian. 

Goodnight, حبيبي, it read. Then, Be safe. There was no response. You didn’t expect there to be; he’d see it when he could, and you’d see him in the morning. 

Your bed was occupied by just you when you woke up which meant one of three things. Either Damian had gotten back too late that he would have woken you up by joining you, he’d gotten injured and knew he’d fail to hide it, or he needed a little bit of solitude. There was no injury report from Barbara when you checked your phone, but the little marker under your text to Damian from last night said that he hadn’t seen it until after three am, which meant it was probably four at the earliest by the time Damian had gotten to bed. You missed the warmth of waking up to him with you even as you appreciated his decision. It was only eight am now. You would have no doubt woken him up with your alarm. He desperately needed sleep, even if only a couple hours more. 

The remaining braids of cheese were in the same spot you left them on the counter last night. You moved them and a second bowl to the table, then grabbed yourself a bagel for breakfast. Your friends from New York disagreed, but you’d tried both and New Jersey bagels were far superior. 

It was half past nine by the time you finished scraping the hummus from your blender into various containers. One larger container would go with you and Damian to your grandfather’s house. The other one was staying in your fridge. Between the two of you, it wouldn’t last very long. You didn’t make hummus very often despite the fact that you both enjoyed it. What you could boast, though, is that you’d converted Damian to your family’s way of making it. Critiquing supermarket-available hummus became a shared habit. 

The completed bowl of string cheese fit perfectly in the fridge on top of the larger container of hummus. Most of the blender parts went in the dishwasher, and you set the cycle to rinse so that the hummus wouldn’t dry and congeal onto the plastic. The blender blade stayed on the side of the sink, already rinsed off. You’d wash it later. First, you had to finish the cheese. You opened your playlist from last night and hit play, bluetooth off this time. If it was loud, it would wake Damian. 

Damian’s bedroom door opened near silently when you were nearly done with the third braid. You took a momentary break to nudge the tea kettle on by pressing the button with your elbow before returning to your seat at the kitchen table. The bathroom door shut then opened again a few minutes later. His footsteps, quiet even in his home, meant that you didn’t notice him heading into the kitchen until he was already there. After months of living together and months before that where you might as well have been, your partner appearing silently beside you didn’t startle you anymore. 

You never got tired of seeing Damian without his guard up. It was an image only you and his family got to see: a Damian squinting in the morning light, hair a mess of waves that dried pressed against a pillow. The sight of him dressed in nightwing pajama pants and an old college t-shirt was yours, now. 

“Morning, my dear,” you greeted him. Small strands of stiff cheese stuck to your fingers. You picked them off and dropped them in the bowl before getting up to give your partner a hug, wrists bent awkwardly so that you wouldn’t touch his shirt with your hands. 

“صباح النور” Damian murmured, his arms heavy around your shoulders. Good morning. “What are you doing?” He asked as you let go. 

“Remember how I had to pick up cheese from my grandfather’s house the other day?” Damian nodded. “I’m stringing that. I wanted to get it done last night but I got home a little late. So I’m finishing it now.” 

You retreated back to your spot at the table, finishing the last of the third braid. Black caraway seeds were scattered around the table and you brushed them into your hand before returning them to the bowl. “The kettle should be done pretty soon. And your mug is on the counter.” 

Damian didn’t say anything until he sat down beside you, cup of tea in hand. 

“You’re stringing the cheese?”

“Yeah, it’s the thing I’ve been assigned to bring to the family events. I’ve been doing the stringing part since I was a kid but since I started living on my own I’d string it at home and bring it with me. And this year I’ve been upgraded to making hummus, too. I made a double batch so there’s a separate container for just us in the fridge.” 

“You went to a family birthday party months ago and didn’t bring it then,” Damian pointed out. 

“Yeah, if my aunts and uncles host the event,” you explained, “their family is technically supposed to string it. I mean, a lot of the time I’ll get there and they’ll ask me to do it anyway, but it’s not officially my job. And I don’t have to pick it up if it’s not my job. This is the first full family event that we’ve lived together for, I think.” You thought for a moment. “Wait, no, there was thanksgiving. But you were at the manor then.” 

Damian watched as you opened the fourth braid. The plastic wrapping joined the one from earlier. 

“I’ve just got this one left.” You cut both ends and pulled one of them apart. “Do you want to help? You’ve just got to wash your hands first.” 

Damian detoured to the sink before sitting in the chair beside yours.

“How does it work?” 

“You just kinda pull it apart and then keep stringing until it gets to be really thin.” You demonstrated quickly, stringing a small section of the larger piece you were holding until it resembled a pile of embroidery floss. 

“Like this, just for the whole thing. But it will snap if you try to brute force pull it instead of string it.” You handed him one of the larger pieces. “Here, you try this one.” 

Damian’s face of concentration sent a burst of warmth through your chest. He was following your instructions to perfection, entirely focused. It took effort not to burst into a full grin. You watched him for a moment before continuing on. Two songs went by on your playlist before Damian said anything. 

“This takes ages.”

You laughed. 

“Yeah, it does. Which is why I spent nearly two hours at it last night and we’re still doing it now. I’ve gotten so much faster at it, though. I can do two braids in less than an hour and a half. It used to take me an hour each. But it’s faster only if it’s warm. If I have to string it right out of the fridge, it’s harder to do.” You smirked. “And it tastes worse.”

Damian quirked a disbelieving eyebrow. 

“I doubt that.”

“It’s true. Ask my family members when you meet them later.” 

“I will not.”

A laugh burst out involuntarily. 

“Yeah, maybe having a debate with my family about food isn’t a great idea. They’d scare you off.”

“No they wouldn’t,” Damian argued, eyes lowered. “I have fought the League and the worst of Gotham—“

“And it’s still okay to be nervous meeting my family. But you know I don’t actually care what they think right?”

“Tt.” Damian stopped stringing to look at you. “They’re your family.” 

“Yeah, and so are you.” Your shoulder nudged his, hands still hovering over the half-finished bowl of cheese. “And I know for a fact that you know me better than most of them.” Damian scoffed a laugh. 

“I know more about you than your estranged cousins? What a great achievement,” he deadpanned. You rolled your eyes at him, returning to the piece you’d neglected. 

“You’re the first significant other in a long time,” you revealed after a moment. “My family is big, in a different way than yours, and they scare people off. So if a cousin brings someone to a holiday celebration, it means we’re serious about the person we’re bringing. All of my cousins-in-law are the people my cousins brought to gatherings like this.” In your peripheral vision, Damian stiffened. You kept stringing, anxiety twisting in your chest. 

“I should have told you that earlier, I’m sorry, I don’t even know if you’re fine with that implica-” 

Damian’s hand reached out to still yours. 

“حياتي,” he said, head dipping down to meet your eyes. “That’s okay with me.” 

“High-ah-tee,” you sounded out, repeating it back to him. “What’s that one?” 

Damian pressed a kiss to your lips. On instinct, your hands moved to cup his chin. Drying strands of the string cheese in between your fingers had you pulling back. 

“العمى,” now I have to wash my hands again. And you should wash your face, Dames.” 

“Be right back,” he said, moving quickly to the bathroom. You watched him go before turning to wash your hands. Damian hadn’t returned by the time you’d finished, so you moved back to the table, resuming working on the strand you’d left behind.

“You didn’t tell me what it means,” you reminded him as he sat back down next to you. “Hayati, that is.” 

“حياتي,” he said slowly, “means ‘my life.’” 

A smile split your face. “Yeah?” 

“Mhm.” 

“Hey,” you began. Damian turned to you, mid stringing his own piece of cheese. “I love you.” 

Your partner’s lips quirked up into a grin. He pressed his forehead to yours for just a moment before turning back to the cheese. “I love you too.” 

“Now,” you mock-admonished, “if we don’t get this done in the next 45 minutes, we will be leaving late.  And my grandfather hates it when the cheese is late.” 

Damian huffed a laugh, following your lead as you returned the majority of your attention to the bowl in front of you. 

“Maybe we’ll beat your father there.” 

You barked out a laugh. 

“Oh, my grandfather would find that hilarious.” 

Damian’s smirk was visible even as you reached for another piece of string cheese. 

“A first impression that will be remembered, then.” 

“If we’re on time with the cheese and hummus? And your stringing skills are already pretty good? I think my grandfather will just never let you go.” 

“Lucky for him,” Damian said, grabbing the other half of the piece you’d just begun, “I don’t plan on that being a problem.”

[tauforged]

Are you okay?

in the grand scheme of things? yeah i’m chillin. what happened isn’t Serious serious. it was just weird. like i’ve been iffy about saying anything because i don’t wanna kickstart it into a major ordeal again but it’s just like. a couple weeks ago? at this point? i think? i got upset after someone id been following posted what essentially boils down to rape fic. i was really in my feelings about it in the moment because it honestly triggered the fuck out of me and i definitely lashed out a bit but it was late i was very tired and stressed out and ultimately not really thinking about the consequences of my actions, just ranting about something that really upset me. the blowback i got in response has been INSANE and kinda sobering. 90% of the other wf bloggers i know of and had up until that point been mutuals/friendly with all blocked and cold shouldered me overnight. i had at least one person combing thru my sideblog and alt twitter for dirt on me so they could send anons about how much of a hypocrite i was. i’ve been extremely cagey about posting anything personal at all, even stuff that isn’t at all related to what happened, because im suddenly aware that my blog is being checked up on frequently and anything i post can be taken as a slight and used to justify saying some really cruel and heinous shit about me. so much has happened that i don’t even have the words to explain in a neutral manner right now, and i don’t want to put anyone individually on blast either because i honestly don’t even have it in me to feel spiteful about it anymore. i’m just very tired. a lot of bridges got burned right out from underneath me and now im feeling kind of stuck and isolated.

i don’t post about it often because i’m aware of how easily it could be used against me, but to be entirely frank; i’ve struggled with paranoia around being stalked/surveilled as well as moral ocd and all the baggage that comes with both for a very VERY long time, and this is just all like. the perfect storm to trigger serious episodes. i’ve been really hot and cold lately and stressed beyond belief. i’m convinced there’s someone out there checking up on me and talking about me behind my back, but i can’t do a damn thing about any of it aside from continue trying to mind my own business and hope that everyone who’s stuck around thus far is doing so for the right reasons and not just out to get me. trying to redirect myself onto what usually helps me take my mind off these things isn’t really working because it keeps circling back around to huge reminders and i’m having a harder than usual time escaping those mental loops lately. trying to forcefully will myself into being Okay has been really tiring and i think i’m just gonna have to let myself be. not okay. for a while.

it’s a lot of stress to come out of video game fandom posting on tumblr, yeah, i know, and ultimately none of it matters. but it’s still a really weird situation. feels unsafe and precarious. i’m trying very hard not to completely and totally isolate myself and retreat into a bubble because to be frank i do really need to put myself out there and interact with people more, it’s just been blow after blow lately.

to answer your question - i think im gonna be fine. this whole thing has for sure done a number on my physical and mental health (not that i was a beacon of health and wellness before either) but i can say i’m certainly not going anywhere and i dont want to let this whole thing ruin something i love and that means so much to me. im in a weird place right now and will probably be kinda squirrelly for a while…. but ill be alright. i appreciate your concern 🫂❤️

[bp-zb1fics]

hello !! could u write something with jeonghyeon and reader in school like they are already dating, and it would be about them being the "famous" couple in their school !! lijeong being a genius and the reader being dumb like an airhead but she really kind and all. teachers and students could be teasing them about being an odd couple haha

So without meaning

pairing: leejeong x reader

genre: highschool au (same verse as shy,shy,shy and tall& handsome), fluff

tw/tags: sort of character study, class couple, mean girls reference, flirting, kisses, woongki being salty, leejeong simp agenda as usual

wc: 756

summary: it’s not that you were an odd couple, more like you were smart in different ways.

a/n Kind of put a spin on the req but I hope you like it anon~ it's also super late so there's that but these weeks have been rough tbh. also anyone who doesn't get the mean girls reference, jail for you jk

check my pinned for more fics!

When Gyuvin first transferred, Gunwook and Junhyeon made it their mission to introduce him to everything that there was to know about their highschool, sort of like those 90’s teen movies. So far, they’ve done a decent job. 

Gyuvin now knows they served donkatsu at the cafeteria every second Tuesday, how to not piss off Baek Kooyoung-seongsaengnim and every notable class couple that he shouldn’t get in the middle of.

Case in point, you.

It wasn’t that you were stupid. No, definitely not. Maybe you made stupid decisions sometimes but doesn’t everyone? Sure, you weren’t the brightest bulb in the box (is that the correct analogy?) but you made do. You got decent grades, teachers liked you even if you had a tendency to daydream during class. And it helped that you were really nice in the very unintentionally genuinely good way that very few people were these days.

It’s just- your boyfriend was-

“That’s Lee Jeonghyeon.” Junhyeon whispers to Gyuvin as they watch the older boy walk down the hallway towards you. “Genius, sort of a lone wolf, all sorts of rumours floating around him.”

“What kind of rumours?”

[insert unnecessary montage]

“Lee Jeonhyeon is flawless.”

“He has an endless supply of bracelets and only owns green sweaters.”

“I hear his jawline is insured for 10 million won.”

“I hear he does underground rapping.”

“His favourite colour is green.”

“One time, he got recruited by this company and they told him he could be an idol.”

“One time, he punched me for trying to kiss him.” A pause. Cha Woongki takes the time to flip his hair before sighing wistfully. “It was so hot.”

[end montage]

Gyuvin’s eyes have grown twice their original size in disbelief. Junhyeon nods solemnly. Meanwhile, you and your boyfriend are none the wiser. In fact, he’s completely preoccupied by you grabbing his hand, chattering about something brightly as you tug him towards the cafeteria.

Most of the students give you a wide berth. But that’s probably because your boyfriend is at least 185 cm and looks like he can cut a bitch on a good day. It was also sort of interesting, the contrast between you, like a manhwa plot coming to life. The resident genius and the bubbly airhead, complete opposites and completely enamoured by each other.

“Jeonghyeoniee,”

The withering look that your boyfriend gives Park Hanbin would probably deter anyone else. But Park Hanbin is a dazzling force of nature with a brilliant smile and military commander-like focus when he gets invested in something. Trailing behind him is Kim Taerae, resident class-crush with his church-oppa like charms and soft, sweet voice.

“What do you want?”

Maybe Jeonghyeon would look more intimidating if he currently wasn’t letting you feed him like a petulantly adorable child, practically glued to your side, holding your other hand under the table. You ignore the other boys, bringing another spoonful of rice and meat to his lips.

“Thank you aegiya.”

“You’re welcome, Leejeong-yah.”

“God, I hate love.” Woongki fake gags from the other side of the table.

“Wow, way to be single and bitter.” Hanbin shoots back, the other gasping dramatically.

“I am not.”

“Are too.”

“Am not.”

“No fighting!” You insist after swallowing the bite your boyfriend fed you. Woongki coos at you.

“Oh my poor, innocent baby, how did our big, bad Jeonghyeonie manage to score someone as sweet as you?”

“Woongki-ah, I punched you once, I can do it again.” Jeonghyeon grits out before obediently opening his mouth so you can feed him.

“Oh please do,” The other boy says way too eagerly. You sigh. And they said you were the dumb one when you could clearly see your boyfriend being played. Also your food was finished and you kinda wanted one of those pudding cups that they brought out after you had sat down with your trays.

“Leejeong-yah?”

“Yes aegiya?”

“Want pudding.” You pout, You really don’t need to. Your boyfriend stands up right away and goes over to the counter to fetch one for you. Woongki rolls his eyes, applauding you slowly.

“Ugh, your power. Literally you need to tell me how to get a boy completely whipped like that.”

You shrug. Jeonghyeon comes back with your much-desired pudding cup, proffering you a spoonful.

“Leejeong-yah, kiss?”

The rest of the table groans as he leans down and gives you a peck shamelessly. You smile and eat your pudding, stealing more kisses in between spoonfuls. Jeonghyeon might be a genius but he wasn’t the only smart one in the relationship.

[plasticbag3207]

Alastor and Vox Possibly Knew Each Other in Life

I recently started writing/planning a fic centering around how Alastor and Vox met, and how their friendship turned sour into what their rivalry is today. I’m sure people have already written fics like this but I haven’t seen any (not that I’ve been looking) with this as the main plot and without heavy shipping.

Until literally this morning I wasn’t ever quite able to peg down Alastor and Vox’s ages. I assumed they were at least in their 30s, though it didn’t seem out of the question to say they were older or maybe even a little younger.

That is until I found the leaked character sheets of them. Apparently a year (or two?) ago someone leaked a lot of the character sheets/voice sheets for most of Hazbin Hotel’s cast. Obviously leaking is bad, don’t do it. I also don’t know if everything on those sheets is still canon, so I’m only going to talk about the ages. Also massive thank you to my friend for talking about this with me and helping me come up with stuff :)

(Theories, Headcanons, and Spoilers for the fic below the cut)

According to Alastor’s character sheet, he’s roughly in his 40s, and I’m going to say he was born in 1891. Assuming sinners don’t physically age at all after going to hell (because I’m 90% sure they don’t), that’d make him 42 at his death in 1933. Vox on the other hand, I’m saying was born in 1902, and died in 1955, making him 53 when he died. With these dates Vox and Alastor were only 11 years apart.

In my headcanons Alastor landed his job as a radio host in his mid 20s (1913), and built his way up to being the most popular radio host in New Orleans. By 1918 (27 years old) he had his own full show, which ran for 15 years until his death—and was wildly popular.

My headcanon for Vox on the other hand, is that he started as an actor. He always loved attention, and soon by his early 20s (1924) became a big hit on the silver screen. Very quickly he climbed to the top, becoming beloved by Hollywood and starring in many more movies over his lifespan.

I don’t think Alastor had such a massive disdain for television or visual media yet, though I’m not going to say he loved it. He saw Vox as some attention hound, constantly desperate for more with an insatiable appetite—not unlike himself.

Vox at some point stumbles apon Alastor’s radio show, and instantly loves the guy. He laughs at every joke, loves the creativity of the sound effects, and such. After some tugging of strings he meets Alastor in person and offers to interview him on one of his late night shows. Alastor reluctantly accepts, though the two can’t help but be put off—and even annoyed at times by each others’ presence.

The interview, to say the least, does not go very well. Alastor found it a bit humiliating, Vox being too caught up in the spotlight and not all that willing to share it with Alastor. After that, Al decided that “this face was made for radio” and radio only.

They potentially saw each other in passing, but beyond that their interactions were limited.

Eventually Al dies, and is outed as a serial killer. Vox becomes ever more popular with televisions becoming a household item of the 50s until he dies.

Yippie :)

I’m not 100% sure how much of this is canon compliant, but whatever it’s my fanfic I’ll do what I want with it. Also don’t worry I didn’t spoil the entire thing, just aspects of their human lives. Most of the fic will probably be in Hell. (When/if I post the fic on Ao3 I’ll link it here aswell)

EDIT: I started the fic, it’s a little rough but I’ll polish it up eventually. I also can’t promise I’ll stay 100% true to everything I talked about in this post but it’ll probably be pretty close. Anyways, I hope you enjoy :)

[leupagus]

I've never had a mystery plot so completely mapped out in my head that was so secondary to the actual Plot of a fic, please ask me all the questions about Oscar Underwood and Matthew Lannisford

(This is more of the conclusion to the Shipping Forecast trilogy, which at least now I have the excuse that I've been acting parent to my nephews this week and good lord jesus children are exhausting, how Ellie manages her kids AND managing Hardy is a mystery for the ages)

~

They duck back into her car just as the rain really starts in, hitting the roof and the windshield like a million angry football hooligans after a loss. "Christ, somebody ring Noah," Miller laughs, tugging at her hair elastic. "I think I've got a — yeah, here." She twists round in her seat to pull at something behind her.

Hardy gives her room to half-crawl into the backseat, the bottom of her shirt riding up to show a flash of stomach, the sweet give of her waist. He looks away, toward the house. "Do you think he's lying? About knowing about Underwood and his son?"

"I think," Miller grunts, "That he's been lying to himself for over a decade, and probably longer than that, and at this point it's impossible to tell what he thinks is true and what he doesn't. And of course, what he thinks is true might not even be true. Got it!" she adds, and flops back into her seat with a wrinkled towel. She begins patting gently at her hair, the rain still bright on her cheeks and neck. "This case is like one of those Russian dolls, you know, the wooden ones? Every time you think you've cracked it, there's another one waiting for you."

"Matryoshka," Hardy offers, watching her. Her nose is getting red, the way it always does when she's cold. "Turn the bloody heater on, would you?"

"Fine," she grumbles, and shoves the towel in his face.

"Thanks very much."

"Oh, it's barely damp. And your hair's going to go all sticky-uppy the way you hate if you just let it dry on its own." She turns the ignition and fiddles with the heater; a moment later lukewarm air blasts at their ankles. "God, this bloody car. Can you get me a raise so I can buy something from this century?"

"This is a 2005 Volkswagen," Hardy feels compelled to point out, but obediently scrubs at his scalp.

"So all right, say he's telling the truth, that he had no idea Underwood and Matthew were an item. Back in the 90s, that sort of thing — Matthew might never have said. Fathers and sons and all."

"We're still basing all of this on the idea that they were an item," he says. "There's no proof either way. They could've just been work colleagues."

Miller makes a considering noise. She's staring out through the windscreen, unseeing. "They were both out. Despite what Matthew's dad claims, we know neither of them made a secret about it. In a town like this, back then? Options would be limited."

"So you think they started shagging because they couldn't find anyone better?" Hardy can feel the sharpness in his own voice, but he can't seem to do much about it. The towel is scratchy against his skin, too rough, and smells of her shampoo.

"Maybe, or — I don't know." She doesn't seem fazed by his tone, but then she rarely notices it these days. "Underwood loved someone. Desperately, the sort of love that makes you do desperate things. Before he died, he wrote that letter, hoping whoever it was he loved would find it."

"Meaning what, exactly?" he demands, the towel creaking in his fists.

She turns to look at him, eyes large and dark and horribly beautiful. "Sometimes the right option is the only option you've got," she says, and Hardy can hardly breathe round the stone in his throat. Then she scowls at him, her gaze roving, and snatches the towel back. "You're still dripping, I just got the upholstery cleaned, come here," and she encases his whole head and shoulders in the towel while he protests, rubbing at him like he's a wet dog who'd got mud on the carpet.

"Bloody hell, Miller," he grumbles, once she's done to her satisfaction, and she smiles at him and puts the car into gear, taking them back toward home.

[fandomwave]

TCOAAL UPDATE 6 LETS GOOO You know the drill don't give yourself hives

I have been rolling this around for a few days now and again, absolute blind shot in the dark is to say that this is probably him about to confess to Ashley that he and Julie are dating. I cannot WAIT to get more context, if Andy is worried about her reaction to him dating, if he's feeling conflicted internally and unsure as to why that feeling is there. There is so little available to know what this could fully mean but I am thrilled to learn more AND THEN THE GOT DAMN VID 1) nice to know we have confirmation that his biting his knuckle is a nervous tick 2) MOM NAME! That'll make fic writing easier lmao 3) God there is SO much to unpack here We kinda always knew that Renee suspected Andrew of having some sort of inappropriate attachment to Ashley. This is something she hints at a few times in chapter 2 and more so when you reject the olive branch. Renee keeps dropping points in parent of the year it's almost comical. I am genuinely interested to see what the game has in store for her and if we do get a little more empathetic to her situation as playing her, given that we clearly have a round to do so. Also the fact she was looking for condoms is.. Good lord this lady will die before she gets therapy for her kids... I LOVE seeing the fact that we get confirmation that Andrew is able to lie on the fly. It's again implied but the fact he was able to make up, some bullshit about a show she's never seen. That's some fascinating skill knowing A) It's a show she doesn't watch B) Because of which he CAN just make up whatever because she can't confirm he's lying C) Creativity to weave a fib about a show he's probably also never seen. We know he can do poetry on the fly so making up a plot about a show must be as easy as breathing. The sheer fact Renee has Andrew labeled as Disappointment and Ashley as Embarrassment is incredible too. Fantastic work. A fun little showcase of her relation to them both honestly.

All of this is just causing me to vibrate in place in anticipation. I'll admit TCOAAL is fun in terms of it's world, but rotating each character around and really picking them apart? That's why I can't shut the fuck up about this game. Everyone is so INTERESTING even if they are the worst people alive. I am THRILLED about the idea of getting to know their mother better as a means to understand the foundation they come from. Like the idea Andrew is labeled Disappointment is so telling. She clearly had higher hopes for him, clearly was content to pin those to him and when he fell short of, lets be honest, of those probably unrealistic expectations. > She did basically ask him to raise an entire human as a child himself. > I hate that I have to say this but in the 90s having a college degree meant you eared the good money. Andrew going to college would imply that he would make enough cash to at least be a source of pride in the family given that the implied economic situation of Renee and her husband is that neither of them are college educated.

Andrew still being at home, still clinging to Ashley (literally), still ruined his life with whatever happened to Nina, it's easy to see how she feels like he's the biggest letdown. A bright spot in the family squandered. Ashley being labeled Embarrassment is no surprise. She already clearly harbored some ill will towards her even as a baby, and with how much of a fucking handful Leyley is, it seems like that trend continued well on past infancy. Then her being out of school, I can only assume without a job (or at the very least one that can't pay for her own apartment) and worse now, potentially in an fucking relationship with her brother is... Yeah I can see the tagline pretty easily got applied. Now again, that's because it seems like this woman is critically allergic to Getting Her Kids Help, but what ifs and what coulds need not apply, we're lookin at what we got :D ANYWAYS OK IM DONE NOW BYE I HOPE YOU ALL HAVE A GOOD ONE!

[olderthannetfic]

I'm in a fandom with a lot of virulent antis (surprise surprise, it's heavily dark source material and I don't know why they're here at all) and a lot of the pairings that aren't the main badwrong ship on ao3 now have DNI tags on them for shippers of the badwrong ship. I guess not enough to break the TOS (no direct threats?), but still full of stuff like "x shippers DNI", "get help you freaks", "You're disgusting" etc etc.

Its just... so frustrating. Like that's a pretty red flag for me that a fic probably is going to be in an immature writing style so I probably won't read it anyway, but every time I see it I just.... heave a big sigh. Why these people are in this fandom or on Ao3 at all I'll never know. Its not even helpful - the tags are there to help describe the fic, if I didn't want to see that kind of content I could just... avoid content that's tagged that way. Why even add that to a fic that's not even about those characters at all?

Honestly, my real question is.... Olderthannetfic, how do you do it?

I feel like I do it "right", in fandom, or at least I try. I always just block and move on. I don't follow the discourse where I can help it and block a lot of the relevant tags. I keep to a small circle of folks that have the same fun brainrot I do and have fun, generally. But this kind of stuff still slips through the cracks in a way that's unavoidable if you're ever online at all. To be honest, it still hurts a lot to see each time, and be reminded that some people seem to literally want me dead over reading a story. And I can't help the doubt and the self-flagellation that creeps in. Despite my best efforts, and all my research, and living to the ripe rip van winkle tumblr fandom spinster age of 27... I sometimes have a moment where I think, maybe I really am a freak or a degenerate, or an evil predator waiting to bloom.

Do you ever experience this? Does this feeling ever go away, or at least dull to a more bearable exasperated eye roll? Do you ever see these anti idiots grow up or grow out of this mindset? Is it just a matter of time, age or experience? Is there a point at which you felt like it affected you less, or perhaps it didn't affect you like that at all? Is there a secret to navigating it calmly and with confidence? Do you have any advice to give in the, er, art of not giving a fuck?

--

Why would I quail at a stupid child on the internet after coming out as queer when I was 14 in the 90s?

I grew up with very open-minded, supportive family aside from my mother's conviction that BDSM was something people were into because they'd been abused. Even then, I remember privately snickering because I was super kinky, and wouldn't that upset her given this silly world view?

I had it easy compared to most in the 90s, but I still saw a lot of nonsense, like good old Mom on the topic of kink or murders in the media. But I also spent a lot of time reading educational sexuality books that debunked myths about fantasies and kinkiness.

Maybe a firmer grounding in sexuality stuff would help you? Nancy Friday's work on women's fantasies is a common starting point. I'm partial to The Topping Book, which is full of "it's great to be a top, actually" and not "you only do it for the sub".

Getting older does usually help though. Most 20-somethings are insecure in their sense of self. Middle age is when people's fucks generally run out, and that only continues to grow. Watch a stupid child go after some 60-something zine writer lady. She's going to laugh in their faces. Some people remain insecure forever, I suppose, but not anybody who had to woman up to be in fandom in the first place.

It's not just that these little idiots are wrong about us being predators: it's that they are the morally degenerate ones for spreading the psychological equivalent of "vaccines cause autism" or "Jews want to steal your Christian babies".

This idea that The Bad People are infiltrating our minds with their propaganda overlaps heavily with anti-semitic conspiracy theory right wing fundie nutjob ideas, and yet these young fools claim to be pro-queer and pro-civil rights. They're an embarrassment to any progressive movement and it disgusts me.

When someone goes "You're not a Christian, so you're going to hell", do you have a moment when you wonder?

Because that's the level of absurdity here.

Even if they don't bully, even if they don't include threats in their DNIs, the fact that they're spreading myths about sexuality that have been thoroughly debunked many times means they're doing something unethical, anti-intellectual, and anti-science.

I'm not afraid or guilty. I'm embarrassed for them.

--

Do antis grow out of it? Yes, frequently.

They are—either literally or functionally—victims of right wing Christian cults. They have the same trajectory of realizing they've been had and slowly trying to work through the raging guilt and religious trauma.

I have limited patience but some sympathy. Like other victims who were indoctrinated to hurt people, escaping the cult is hard. It means not only giving up your false sense of safety and all of your friends but facing what you've done.

[such-a-barbarian]

🚄 w e e k ly 🌊 t a g ✨w e d n e s d a y ✈️

Thank you as always to @mybrainismelted and @jrooc for the tags!

_____________________

Name: Kell

Age: mid to late 30s

Location: the great white north!

we're going on a trip!! woot woot!

📍where are we going? Seeing as this time next week I will be Mexico, let's go early!

📍whats the weather like there right now? Warm and Sunny!

📍are you an over-packer or a light-packer? oh boy - chronic over-packer! Why do I need 10 pairs of underwear for a 7 day trip when I will be in swimsuit 90% of time? I DON'T KNOW OK! 

📍are we taking a plane or a train? I don't think you can get there by train and if you could it would take far too long. Plane it is!

📍early morning departure or an overnight trip? Seeing as there is no time change between here and there I prefer early morning. If there was a significant time change then I'd prefer overnight.

📍what song are you playing in the car while we drive to catch our departure? Probably whatever is on the radio.

📍we need to grab something on the way, starbucks or dunkin? Neither. I don't drink coffee. But since we are on an early morning flight I am stopping at McDonalds for a McMuffin and a hashbrown

📍we've made it to the transportation place 🚂✈️! be honest, are we on-time or are we rushing because we're running late? on-time. In fact, I am probably over an hour early. Being late gives me the most anxiety. If I'm not somewhere at least 10 minutes early I panic.

📍are you taking the window seat or the aisle seat? Window for sure. 1) I love watching the world get small. 2) I need to know when we are about to hit the tarmac.

📍we're settled in our seats, are you gonna read or watch a movie/show? Unlike my trip next week, for this pretend trip my kids aren't with me, so in that case I will be reading.

📍what are you reading/watching? So much fanfic. I currently have 92 fics on the "marked for later" list, so probably one of those.

📍are you using wireless or wired headphones? wired. I do not own wireless headphones. Actually, I'll be lucky if I can find my wired ones before the flight...

📍are you going to take a nap or stay awake? Chances are pretty good I will fall asleep at some point.

📍do you want a salty snack or a sweet snack? both?  Yes. (excellent choice Jess)

📍we've arrived! are we heading straight to activities or are we gonna rest at the hotel? Head to the hotel just long enough to drop the suitcases and change into a swimsuit, then it's immediately to the beach for me.

📍finally, pick a treat to reward yourself for a travel day well done! Something fruity and slushy and alcoholic with a tiny umbrella.

Also including this picrew! Forever in a hoodie.

tagging @francesrose3 @juliakayyy @tanktopgallavich @transmickey @babygirlmickey @zutaralesbian @lupeloto and @krysmiss if ya wanna.

[liminalmemories21]

Fic Writer Interview

tagged by @jesuisici33. Thank you.

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

33 apparently. How did that happen?

2. What’s your total AO3 word count? 

486,829

3. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

first four fics in the Long Story Short Series, and then It came without ribbons! It came without tags! It came without packages, boxes, or bags!

The first doesn't surprise me, just because those were the first stories I wrote so they've been up the longest. The second does.

4. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Yes. I love reading comments, and I always kind of feel like I'm having a conversation between the fic I wrote, and the comment, and then the response. It's nice.

5. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

None? I honestly don't think anything I've written has an angsty ending.

6. What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

All of them? I'm not writing fic to depress my serotonin levels.

7. Do you write crossovers?

Not really. Or at least not yet. I've referenced 911 (OG) in a couple stories, but no real crossovers. There's one I kind of want to write where Carlos and Eddie knew each other from before, but I haven't figured out what the point of the story would be beyond - hey look they're both from Texas (and not even near each other in Texas)

8. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Just once. It was weird.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I have taught myself how to.

10. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I'm aware of.

11. Have you ever had a fic translated?

No.

12. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Not one I've posted. I have co-written a couple fics that never quite got finished with a friend, in a different fandom.

13. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

Well, to write it's definitely TK/Carlos, although I have an unfinished Academic!AU for The Old Guard that I love. To read . . . do not make me choose between my children.

14. What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

See above about Academic!AU for The Old Guard. I mean never say never, but it's been a couple of years.

15. What are your writing strengths?

I like to think, dialogue, internal monologue, and a vibrant OC

16. What are your writing weaknesses?

Staring at my google docs folder and going, nope not today when it comes to editing.

17. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I don't. A word here or there, but my Spanish is limited to menus and slowly working my way through a museum sign. I wouldn't try and write anything in it.

18. What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Published? Tarlos.

Unpublished? Umm, let's not talk about that Smallville fic that's on a thumb drive somewhere. Or the Merlin Acamedic!AU that was just an excuse for a friend and I to write about our love affair with Edinburgh. Or The Old Guard, which I wrote recently enough that it's probably not actually embarrassing and I should really go back and reread and fix because it's like 90% done.

19. What’s a fandom/ship you haven’t written for yet but want to?

RWRB. I love those characters so much.

20. What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

Knave-verse. Specifically Knave 2.

Also, I have a really soft spot in my heart for through sames of am through haves of give about TK's relationship with Enzo, because I love Enzo and it is criminal how the show has never given us an Enzo (although, let's be honest I'm going to be disappointed if they do and it's not Stanley Tucci).

tagging @carlos-tk, @heartstringsduet, @irispurpurea, @lightningboltreader, @orchidscript, @reyesstrand, @theghostofashton, and @walkinginland

[just-antithings]

Not really an anti thing per se, but something I feel the need to vent about:

One of the reasons I feel so conflicted on the Harry Potter thing is not only my concerns about continuing to give Rowling a platform, but also just, unpopular opinion, I… kinda think the fandom can be almost as performative as the haters?

I KNOW HOW THAT SOUNDS BUT HEAR ME OUT!

First off: they’re always going on about how "oh, we’re making ALL the hp characters trans to piss off the TERF!" and then you look at the fics and art and stuff and it’s like, at least 80-90% is just the same cookie cutter "Draco and Harry are gay trans men who make out 24/7 and there's some trans gay WolfStar in the background too, I guess, and also maybe black trans Hermione can have a cameo at some point as a treat, but who cares because it’s Drarryin' Time! *proceeds to Drarry all over AO3*" fics.

Like… why is it that after Rowling announced her status as a card-carrying fascist, "all the hp characters" suddenly became just Harry, Draco, Remus, Sirius and maybe Hermione if you're lucky? ESPECIALLY considering the fact that I know from experience that the fandom used to have way more diversity headcanons than this?

What about Ron "angsty because his mom wanted a daughter" Weasley? Or Neville and Hannah, who never had children (clearly, one of them is trans! Or maybe both are trans AND ace! Two groups Rowling hates for the price of one!)? Where are the Trans Dean/Seamus and Trans Lavender/Parvati fics? Trans Luna??? One of Bill and Fleur's kids being the first known male Veela hybrid in the series (literally a fuckin' goldmine of gender possibilities)???? What about fuckin' Nymphadora "gender nonconforming shapeshifter who hates her traditionally feminine name" Tonks (if ANY character would’ve been made trans or enby to spite Rowling, I’d have thought Tonks and her son Teddy would be the FIRST choices)???? EBONY DEMENTIA DARKNESS RAVEN WAY (objectively the BEST Harry Potter character)??!!!????

Part of me suspects that this is at least partly because these characters aren’t "popular" and therefore won't get the same attention as the Drarry "rivals to lovers" vibe and the All The Young Dudes spin-offs, but I can’t be fully sure of that.

And like… a lot of times it looks like their activism just, begins and ends with fandom activity? A lot of the same questions levied at HP haters ("are you supporting and/or donating to pro-trans causes?" "Are you making an effort to understand WHY TERF ideology is bad?" etc., all 100% valid questions) can also be levied against fans who make their headcanons and shipping the main source of their activism.

I’m not saying that NO hp fans are doing actual activism, I’ve seen a few examples, but it feels to me at least like the majority are not. It just seems they think shipping Harry and Draco whilst transing them to pretend it makes the TERF seethe (when really she probably doesn’t even know your fanfic exists) is a substitute for activism, just as HP haters think hating the series and patting themselves on the back for not reading it when they were twelve is a substitute for activism.

I guess the bright side is that at least the Drarry shippers aren’t harassing people? There are testimonies from trans people about hp fans harassing them, but the majority of those fans obviously wouldn’t also be writing trans Drarry fics so ehh?

Idk, like I said I’m conflicted and I need to vent. I’ve been holding this vent in for a while now.

I guess my thesis statement here is: HP fandom, if y'all really want to "diversify Harry Potter to spite the TERF", then please for the love of Glaux ADD MORE CHARACTERS AND IDENTITIES TO YOUR HEADCANON ROSTER.

.

[fereldanwench]

Questions for Writers

I was tagged by @corpocyborg! Thank you, bb!! ♡

Last book I read: I still haven't finished There's No Such Thing as an Easy Job Kikuko Tsumura I started back in January, lmao. Not for any reason other than I just haven't been in the right headspace to sit down and read for the past few months--What I have read of it is great, so hopefully, I can make the time to pick it up again.

Greatest literary inspirations: I like the female protags in Karin Slaughter novels, and I love Tanya Huff's Torin Kerr from her Confederation series--I'm sure they've inspired me on some level. Oh, and Phedre from Jacqueline Carey's Kushiel books, too, although it's been ages since I read those. But I think most of my inspiration actually comes from other forms of media. I love the action babes of the late 90s/early 00s: Lara Croft is the number one inspo here, and pretty much all of Michael Turner's comic girls but especially Sara from Witchblade. And I think Better Call Saul is easily one of the best-written shows ever made--That's one I always go back to when I feel like I need to refill the inspo well.

Things in my current fandoms I want to read but I don't want to write: I have a confession: I usually only read a ton of fic when I first get into a fandom and I can't get enough and I just want to soak it all up, but after a certain point, I just don't have a lot of headspace for other people's stories. 😬 I feel bad about it sometimes, and it's not like I never read anything after that point, but 90% of the time, what I wanna write is what I wanna read. It's kind of a closed loop, I guess.

Things in my current fandoms I want to write but I think nobody would be interested in them but me: Well, I'm not at all deterred by being the only person interested in something I write, haha. One of my favorite one-shots I've ever written is between my Cousland and Hawke meeting briefly at Ostagar, and it's probably my least popular fic on AO3 by a big margin. But I do like deep-diving into my own OCs, and it generally is harder to get an audience for fic that doesn't have canon characters. Ain't gonna stop me, though!

You can recognize my writing by: Lots of pining and banter; obvious thesaurus abuse

My most controversial take (current fandom): Yeah, no, not gonna be sharing my actual most controversial takes, lmao.

But I do also love the Devil ending! I don't think there's one objectively "best" ending--What's good for one V isn't necessarily good for another--But for my Valerie, it suited her story the best. I love the poetry of her going back to Arasaka after getting fired by them, I love storming Arasaka Tower with Goro, I love the conflict with Johnny, I love making Goro confront how fucked up the Arasakas are, I love the possibilities of Mikoshi--The only way it would have been better for me is if this nixed idea had actually been put into action.

And I wish we could roleplay a V that is actually more "pro"-corpo in the game, especially if we had the corpo lifepath. Sticking it to the man is sexy and all, but I just love delving into characters that align themselves with shitty institutions and exploring different motivations (I personally like cynical pragmatism/self-preservation and delusional idealism) that lead a person there.

Top three favorite tropes: 1) Rivals to friends to lovers 2) Mutual pining 3) Forced proximity

What’s your current writing mood (10 – super motivated and churning out words like crazy, 0 – in a complete rut): Like, 0.5, lmao. I've been rereading and organizing my WIPS, so there's some effort being put in there, but I'm very much in one of my "ummmm, how do I even write fiction?" phases.

Share a random frustration: I have ZERO discipline when it comes to writing. I need to be in a fully feral, totally isolated from distractions place or I just can't get shit done. When I'm in the zone, I'm in the fuckin' zone, but I get like 3 months of that every 5 years, lmao.

Tagging (with no pressure, as always) @ur-friendly-nbhd-cardassian, @dread-red-queen, @vorchagirl, and @aceghosts <333

[tandaforever]

Get To Know Me Ask!

Too many good questions! Couldn't narrow them down! ☺️

🎂 when is your birthday?

✈️ favorite place you’ve traveled

🎵 favorite artists

🔐 something no one would guess about you

🍅 least favorite food

🍐 if you could make one character real, who would it be

🍒 what is your earliest memory

🖇️ what are your favorite asks to answer

🪐 favorite shows / series of all time

🍀 what is your comfort show/series and why is it your comfort show? How has it helped you?

😘

Awww that's more than fine, because I love answering these 😘... you're the best!

Let's get to know me (run ppl runnn)...

🎂 June 24

✈️ London

🎵 Led Zeppelin, The Cure

🔐 I've never been in a relationship. Or on a date for that matter.

🍅 Okra (that's the only thing I could think of)

🍐 this is hard 😭... Chandler Bing -- we'd be best friends. Every other character I love has a tragic story so noooo they can't be real.

🍒 walking home from school, down the road when I was 4 or 5 and my dad trailing behind me, letting me think I was walking home alone (the 90s were different folks lol) but I knew that I wasn't 🥰. Hmmm I don't even know if that's real or not, I probably forgot the part where he actually picked me up.

🖇 these ones... and any really. But writer/fic/ prompt ones are special.

🪐 Friends, Supernatural, How I Met Your Mother, SAS Rogue Heroes, Merlin, Wheel of Time... so many more and sorry got carried away

🍀 I have two.

Friends, which I've rewatched a million times since high school. Wherever I am and however I'm feeling at that point, it always makes me feel like I'm at home, and the jokes still make me smile.

SAS Rogue Heroes, which really shouldn't be anyone's comfort show because by God... do those boys have issues. But it came to me early last year, during a time when I really needed a distraction. Not only did it distract me, it also led me to a new ship that I adore, and it helped me deal with grief as a character was also dealing with it (except I didn't blow shit up, I just watched a TV show lol).

Alright that's enough about me 😅

Thank you 🤗