#or the fanfic I’m reading/writing

[goldencherryskies]

I love being a fan of media that has different interpretations with different actors because yeah, of course Patrick Swayze and Dan Berry are making out in my mind right now

[blackynsupremacy]

black girls,

make the content you want.

i’m serious.

idc if you think it’s gonna flop.

idc if you think you’re a terrible writer or artist.

idc if you believe that character/celebrity/athlete/whoever likes black girls or not. (who cares what the fandom says anyway!)

idc if you’re the first and only one to start that _____ x black reader tag.

make the content you want to see!

do it for you most importantly! (you will inspire others ofc)

in conclusion, you won’t get it if you won’t make it.

[magic-owl]

I don’t believe in gatekeeping at all but if you flat out admit to me that you’ve consumed little to ZERO of the canon media and have gotten all of your information based off of reading fluffy fic with woobified characters, I will not be taking ANY of your fandom opinions or meta seriously

[qweenofurheart]

a couple of people told me the comic i made reminded them of A Meditation on Railroading by eggmacmuffin, so i had to draw a scene from it

[ao3-shenanigans]

Shout out to all the beginning authors, don’t be afraid to write badly and to write for yourself

we will love you regardless

[frownyalfred]

Certain sections of tumblr will truly have you believe that proshipping, shipping “problematic” pairings, or shipping anyone with an age gap of more than thirty seconds is worse than like, the actual Holocaust or something and I’m here to remind you that it absolutely, absolutely isn’t.

You are not a bad person because you read [trope/pairing]. Conversely, you are not a better person if you avoid [trope/pairing]. It’s all down to personal preference, and the more we buy into that peculiar flavor of Puritanism, the worse off we will be. Even if it feels morally “right” to some of y’all.

[myokk]

She hears him calling her name as she flees down the spiral staircase, almost tripping over her feet in her rush to get away from him, but he catches up quickly, reaching out to grab her arm in an attempt to slow her down. She stops running immediately - she supposes her traitorous body wants to see what he has to say, or maybe it just wants to bask in his intoxicating proximity. He crowds her space, and she sees that unfamiliar look in his eyes again. So very different from the cold disdain she had seen the last time she had been this close to him, during the argument that had ended their friendship.

Oh, Merlin, he's getting closer to her, and she can now clearly see the freckles dusting his cheeks and nose and forehead and then before she knows it, his hand is sliding up her arm, leaving goosebumps everywhere he touches and then he's caressing her jaw with his rough thumb and he pauses. Her eyelids flutter closed as her head tilts towards him - she couldn't stop herself even if she wanted to (what does she want?). She can feel his warm breath ghosting over her lips and she has the improbable, ridiculous thought - how is he remembering to breathe? - before he speaks. His lips brush against hers with every soft word and a deep shiver runs through her body.

"I," she hears him say, his voice so, so low, "haven't been able to think since last week."

That's all she needs to hear, the brush of his bottom lip against hers all she needs to feel, to push her into closing what minuscule distance there is between them and then his lips are on hers and it's better than anything she's been imagining. His mouth is soft against hers, insistent, and her hands go up to grip the collar of his plaid jacket to make sure he doesn't go away or disappear on her.

from my oneshot💘

[fckbatmanhiskidsareminenow]

What’s for Breakfast?

(yes it’s the parsnip fic)

(tw mentioned nightmares and mildly dissociation)

disclaimer: this will probably be ooc, i’m still extremely new to the fandom so be nice please

description: jason decides to cook and is interrupted by the rest of the bat siblings.

word count: 1556

All he came here to do was drop off some intel for Bruce but now? Now Jason is standing in the middle of the Wayne manor kitchen, with his hands on his hips, wondering what he should cook. He’s hungry, alright, sue him.

It’s Sunday and Sunday is the day Alfred restocks the kitchen so the chances of Jason actually finding something other than premade pancake mix was not great.

The first ingredient item he finds is a few parsnips. He passes one between his hands trying to think of what he can make with them. After a few seconds he comes up with something, tossing the parsnips onto the counter and he collects some onions, a leek, flour, eggs and vegetable oil. He gets the grater out and it’s decided. He’s gonna make parsnip and onion fritters.

Jason starts with slicing the onion. Just get that shit over and done with. The familiar burn of the onion begins in his eyes and he is immediately reminded of the last time he cooked in here. He was 15, it was a few weeks before his death. He and Alfred were making home made burgers, requested by Jason himself, and they made caramelised onions to go with it.

He’s pulled out of the memory by the wet feeling of tears dripping down onto his hand. He glares down at the vegetable as if it had personally wronged him. And you know what? It did. He’s crying all because of a fucking onion.

He continues slicing only slightly more aggressively when he hears a soft patter of feet.

“Todd?” At the sound of his name he looks up and is met with a sleepy Damian staring back. The kid’s got on a set of cat pyjamas, that Jason can admit is kinda cute, and is wiping away what looks to be tears. Must have had a nightmare or something.

“Cooking.” Jason replied gruffly. Damian approaches the island he’s cooking on and stands on his toes to try and see what Jason is cooking. Once again he can admit the kid looked kinda cute with only just his head and little hands poking over the bench.

“Cooking what?” He asks softly and with genuine childlike curiosity, which is rare for Damian. Jason breathes out a sigh and walks over to the small table on the far side of the kitchen and pulls a chair up against the bench.

“Parsnip and onion fritters. Wash your hands and come grate the parsnips for me.” He usually would tell him to fuck off but the kid looks like he could use a distraction and he does love a mission.

Damian washes his hands, climbs up the chair and starts grating.

They slice and grate mostly in quiet, only breaking the silence to quietly giggle at each other's onion induced tears.

“Cooking?” The sound of a voice startles them both so badly Damian almost throws a parsnip and Jason damn near cuts his finger off. When they look up at the source, Cass is standing there with an eyebrow raised.

“Christ, Cassandra, you could have killed us.” Damian says as he lowers the parsnip. Jason huffs out a laugh.

“Again.” He mutters and doesn’t miss the nasty look Damian throws him. Cass only smirks and shrugs. She looks dishevelled but Jason chooses to ignore it. She wanders over to the island, inspects what they’re doing before sitting on one of the stools and pulling her phone out of her pocket. Jason and Damian share a look before continuing what they were doing.

They finally get through all the slicing and grating when Steph and Tim stumble in looking like they had not slept all week. Jason stops what he’s doing just to look at them judgingly.

“Where the fuck have you two been?” he asks like he doesn’t want to know. Steph groans and collapses into the stool next to Cass.

“We were out all night for a stake out that turned up nothing.” Jason makes a confused face at that and looks to Tim who is all but dragging himself to the coffee machine.

“I don’t even want to talk about it.” He says holding a hand up to block out Jason’s judgmental look. Stake outs like that happen, not often but they happen. But for Tim? It’s even less often, he gathers all the intel he can before going out. Make sense for his mood to be shit.

Jason can practically sense Damian is about to say something so he scoops him up by the armpits and places him onto the ground.

“Your jobs done now.” He tells him before the kid can protest. He only receives a slightly grumpy nod before Damian drags the chair back to its regular spot and sits down. Tim looks away from the coffee machine.

“Are you making breakfast?” He asks half judgy half genuine. Jason almost responds with some snarky sarcasm but just looking at Tim tells him the poor guy's exhausted brain would probably melt if he did.

“Yeah I am. Parsnip and onion fritters.”

Steph lifts her head from where it was laying against the kitchen island.

“What the fuck is a parsnip?” Jason chuckles and holds up one of the unused parsnips.

“It's like a white carrot thing. They taste good, trust me.” Steph eyes it suspiciously before shrugging and laying her head back down.

Duke runs in while Jason is mixing in the flour and eggs. He stops and looks at everyone surprised. To Duke’s credit it is rare for all of them to be in the same room for a non vigilante related reason. He looks at Jason and into the bowl.

“Hey, that looks great! I’m heading out to patrol but save me some for when I get back?” He says as he grabs an apple and speeds out of the kitchen without waiting for an answer. Jason files the information to save some away in his head before he continues mixing. He makes sure everything is evenly coated before heating up a pan and drizzling some vegetable oil onto it. He places as many scoops as he can evenly spread on the pan and waits until he can flip them.

The sizzly of the fritters and the oil almost covers up the sound of a new pair of feet entering the kitchen.

“Whatchya making, Jaybird?” This time he doesn’t jump at the sound of Dick’s voice coming from directly over his shoulder. Just by looking at Dick’s eyes tells Jason the eldest is floating in between a dissociation episode. He’s not really all there.

Jesus Christ, was he the only one who had a good night? Well, he doesn’t really know how Duke’s night went but with the way he was rushing to get on patrol, if Jason had to guess it would be probably not good.

“Parsnip and Onion fritters.” He replies while scanning the kitchen for what task he can give Dick to help him out.

“Hey, could you do the dishes for me? I wouldn’t want Alfred to wake up and find the kitchen a mess.” He asks softly. Jason doesn’t mention that Alfred is already up and upon seeing all of them in the kitchen, about ten minutes ago, gave Jason a soft smile and left to do whatever Alfred does when he’s not butlering.

Dick turns to where Jason points to the dishes and nods.

“Oh yeah, of course.” He says spacely. Jason fights the urge to fist pump. If he’s learnt anything it's if you wanna get Dick Grayson to help himself, you gotta guilt trip him a little bit. He does take the knife before Dick can add it to his washing pile. Yeah he’s got some less than moral helping tactics but he’s not gonna let the guy hurt himself.

Damian gets up to help Dick with the dishes and they make quiet conversation. With Damian occasionally yelling when Dick splashes him or tries to place bubbles on his head.

Jason hands the empty bowl to Dick before placing the last of the fritters onto one big plate. He quickly whips up a greek yogurt and herb dip sauce. He grabs out enough plates for everyone and places two on a plate for Duke before wrapping it with foil and placing them in the fridge. He then hands the remaining stack of plates to Dick.

“Alright losers follow if you want breakfast.” He calls out before heading into the proper dining room. Dick sets the table before taking one for himself.

Jason will never tell anyone but he did feel nervous waiting for everyone’s reaction.

“Wait, why is this good?”

“I can’t tell if these are good or if I’m just really fucking hungry.”

“These are really good Jaybird.”

He tried to hide the way the tension fell from his shoulders before digging into his own food. The atmosphere was good and it made Jason kinda miss moments like this. This sense of family and belonging. Just a family having breakfast together.

“Is there any left for me?” Bruce asks as he walks in. Jason looks up at him. He’s met with a proud look he hasn’t seen in what feels like a lifetime. He hides his face and gestures to an empty chair.

“Take a seat, old man.”

I hope the fic is a good as you guys imagined 🥰

here’s a special thanks to @kaycynyrs for sending in the ask that inspired me to look at this fic again and @yourlocal-edgelord for encouraging me to rewrite it and to @heavenssolitude for being there and supporting me 🥰

(i’ll totally untag you guys if you didn’t wanna be tagged. just wanted to say thanks)

[vicartless-bowuigi-space-au]

“What are you scared of?”

Luigi felt the Star's unease fill his every being—a child shaking in a dark alley, crowding against a corner with no escape. And with a voice that stole Luigi's breath, the Star responded.

“Her.”

[overthinkinglotr]

People always say “Thorin could never retire in the Shire because he has to be King” — and I think the funniest way to handle that plotline would be for Bilbo to convince Thorin to eliminate the monarchy.

Bilbo has lived all his life in the Shire, where they elect their main leaders in a democratic system. Thorin is the first king he ever meets. Bilbo would initially think monarchy was very storybook-like and fantastical, like the things he’s read about in tales from distant lands…..but he would quickly find the reality of monarchy underwhelming, baffling, and annoying. Thorin/ Thranduil/Bard would make Bilbo decide that all monarchies are terrible. Being a king makes you self-important, haughty, greedy, and warlike. Kings are too powerful and use that power to fight over utter nonsense. They’ve got no one to keep their stubbornness in check. He would come to decide that the Shire really did have it right by holding elections.

I’m imagining a scene where Thorin dramatically confesses “I suffer under the burden of my duties; heavy is the head that bears a crown” and Bilbo flatly responds “don’t be king, then. >:/Elect someone else. If your people don’t want you then they won’t choose you! Im very tired of this whole affair and I wish I were back in the Shire, where folk are more reasonable >:(“

Thorin is enchanted by the strange foreign Hobbit custom of “elected leaders.” He has never considered this as a possibility. Overwhelmed by the Hobbit’s wisdom after the Battle of the Five Armies, Thorin converts his kingdom into a democratic republic and retires from public life.

This causes a domino effect. Other kingdoms across Middle Earth are inspired by Erebor’s example, and band together to reject their monarchical systems. Revolutions ensue.

Thorin’s consort “Bilbo Baggins,” known only as “the dwarf-king’s advisor who first set off this wave of revolutions,” becomes one of the most controversial and reviled people in all of Middle Earth. Bilbo becomes a figure of mythic proportions, loved by the democratic republicans and despised by the royalists, each of which invents their own wild legends.

To the democratic republicans “The Great Baggins” is glorified as a great warrior sent from Valinor to restore the long-forgotten wisdom borne out of The West— he snaps his fingers and with a poof of smoke he washes away all the old corrupt systems of the world, just as the Valar washed away Numenor.

But to the royalists, “The Mad Baggins” is a scheming shadowy monster who crawled up from the deep places of the world to burn the very foundations of Middle Earth to the ground; he’s a monster more powerful and terrible than a dragon or a balrog, who threatened Thorin into submission and brought the world into chaos. he snaps his fingers and monarchies collapse in a puff of smoke.

Meanwhile elderly Bilbo grumpily putters around the Shire with Thorin, mostly oblivious to all of this.

[swanlux]

So many more wonderful silco fanfics arising because of the success of season 2, I’m going to spend so many evenings absolutely devouring them. Thank you to all the lovely writers and artists in this fandom, you are all so unbelievably talented <3

[blackynsupremacy]

Reading BWWM love stories on wattpad be like… I’m about to talk shit under the pic. 🗣️

I’m not gonna out the writer…I’m not gonna drop the title of the story either. As a black female reader who has “If he fine, he fine” energy and wants to enjoy stories of my favorite characters or celebrities who happen to be of different races and ethnicities and have them paired with a black reader or black oc as a romantic interest…

Black women are people and they should be seen as such. We are more than our outside appearance. We are more than breasts, ass, hips, and lips. No, we do not taste like chocolate because we’re not food because why does being attracted to black women have to mean you’re a “chocolate lover”? Also, just because the character or celebrity is a different race does not mean you have to put in the fact that they “never really been into black women” before dating them and then after seeing one that’s conventionally attractive, they believe they’re gonna start to like all of them like we’re an experiment or something. This goes for any writer of any race that wants to write for an interracial pairing, just be careful how you word describing people from your own culture or another’s. It was a bit romantic in the first half but, damn! Please write black people like we have personalities, feelings, and substance.

Ya’ll can agree or disagree, I’m gonna say what I’m gonna say.

[i-suc-at-art]

Ummm.. I really love this fic

*hands @basilf1res this gently*

Any ways go read project “GH05T” it’s really good :)

[toxintouch]

crazy idea… what ab ais and vere with someone whos kinda obsessed with monsters?? like they study them for a living. idk where you would go with this but i just thought it would be interesting!!

it was indeed very interesting, anon, tysm for sharing!! ["You" pronouns used! to make it easier for me to use the plural "they"]

MONSTER 101:

✦ They both start out assuming that your interest is more suggestive in nature. That your insistence on "studying” Monsters is a smoke screen for your true desire to "consort" with them.  So they are both waiting for you to ask something–shall we say?–uncouth.  In fact, they have a little bet going…  

Realizing that you are just legitimately interested…

They are both intrigued, though it comes in different flavors.

✦ For Vere, it is somewhat begrudging.  He appreciates your ability to look past rules and accepted conventions.  (There’s Monsters aplenty in Eridia but few humans are trying to understand Monsters, and of those near none are willing to be open about it due to fears of social ostracization.  And even then, there’s usually some other motive at play…)  Vere's unhappy to find he has a slightly high opinion of you.  He really didn't mean to.

✦ He hates that a lot of his seduction techniques and attempts to catch you off guard or otherwise make you react are ineffective because you will just intellectualize them.

✦ Any time Vere mentions you studying monsters he says the word heavy with implication. “Studying.  Is that what they're calling it, nowadays?" Including after he’s realized it isn’t like that; he’ll still imply it whenever he gets the chance.

✦ (The bet is still on, by the way.  The fact that they’ll have to lead you into asking something questionable to win is just added spice.)

✦ And Vere is impatient to win.  Plus, he’s curious to see what makes you tick.  What button does he have to press…?

✦ He starts offering increasingly more and more inappropriate things.  (In the vein of tail tugging, etc.)  All to toy with you further your academic achievements, of course.

✦ Until he finally asks if you'd like to see him hunt.  

✦ And that sends a thrill of a shiver down your spine–you can’t sort out if it’s due to fear or excitement.

✦ He sees your reaction and oh, isn’t that just delicious?

✦ Your instincts react before you fully understand why, gooseflesh covering your skin, the prickly feeling of your muscles flexing minutely making your hair follicles rise.  You’re confused for a moment, your mind trying to make sense of the sudden surge of adrenaline–you’ve been so focused on Vere’s silky words that you didn’t even realize he’s gotten so close, that he’s starting to circle you, his eyes focused, pupils contracted.

He hums, inspecting you, turning your face this way and that, his neat claws skimming against you making you quiver.  This close, you can see his pupils expand slightly, the way his jaw trembles just the slightest amount after he takes in a luxurious whiff of your scent.

Like he’s hungry,

   like he’s starving

“Perhaps someone should study you for a change.”

✦  You’re breathless.  Your mind scrambles for a moment before picking back up.  What was that feeling, just now? You’ve read about this before, but–to experience it first hand–(and live)!  You gush at Vere about how the experience was both everything and nothing like your studies have described.

✦  Of course, hearing Vere’s age is amazing to you–he’s such a unique source of information, he’s seen so much, he’s so old!  But then, getting that information out of him is difficult on the best of days.  And the information you do receive is difficult to sort through.  Vere’s not exactly the most reliable narrator; you spend a lot of time trying to figure out what’s true and what’s an embellishment or elaborate joke.

✦ The idea that this is a job for you means that somebody must be paying you for this information. "You do plan on sharing the wealth, don't you? Dangerous things happen to those who don't keep their sources well fed."

✦ Ais admires your willingness to explore information, think things through for yourself and form your own opinions.  After dealing with Mhin hating him for “no reason”, it’s a breath of fresh air.

✦  Ais’ personality tends to be a lot more straightforward…  

✦  But when the information you’re curious about isn’t something he wants to disclose, he’s not above being unbearably vague.

✦  You ask Ais’ age, since Vere was willing to disclose his (kind of–you know he’s been around since Eridia was "a miserable little smear") but Ais keeps leading you in circles. 

✦  “Cumulatively?  Might take me a while to count that high.  Lot of group inside this mind.”

✦  He’s not above teasing you either.  “More questions?  If you’re not careful, I’ll start to overthink your interest.”

✦  He does wonder what you're hoping to achieve with this knowledge. What's your goal? Do you even know? "Be careful with that curiosity of yours. Some might find it...impolite."

✦  He realizes that he tells you to be careful... a lot. And he tells himself that he's not responsible for your safety, but...

✦  Will challenge you to earn your answers from him. He's not interested in money, but he can't just be handing things out for free to you all of the time. So: "What's it worth to you?" Is there anything you think you can beat him at? Or maybe you know something he'd trade for. A new language? A secret?

✦  If there's any kind of mutual attraction…  He’s actually kind of frustrated when/if none of your questions appear like they are going to turn in that direction.  He’s not looking for a commitment, but he hates the feeling of ambiguity between you two.  Makes him restless. If you give him any type of indication, though, or if your questions ever do stray away from the academic, he’s asking you if you wanna literally fuck around and find out.  He hates a will-they-won’t-they, he finds it tedious and annoying.  Unless…it comes with a competitive edge.  If it’s a war of attrition, a challenge of 'who will break first'…? That’s a game he’ll consider playing.  For the right reward. Hope you’re willing to deal with the consequences, though.

✦  He thinks it’s funny how you have so many questions.  Avoiding answering them is even more amusing, though. 

✦  Is he nocturnal?  ("Who said I sleep?") What are the interpersonal dynamics like between Monsters? Can he confirm the existence of nonverbal communication cues (scent, atmospheric changes, etc.)?  (“Yes.”) Will he tell you what they are? (“No.”)

✦  He avoids having you at the Sea Spring, though he never outright tells you that you aren't allowed there. And he's not very forthcoming about the topic. He's openly disinterested, in fact. If you don't take the hint, he'll tell you he's told you everything there is to say. Take the hint, alright?

✦  Your curiosity about Monsters extends to his Soulless too, doesn't it?  If it didn’t, it’s about to.

✦ He takes you out in the wastes one day so that you can meet Princess and the others. Just on the outskirts, where no one will bother the two of you. He has to show Princess off. "I wanna show you her tricks."

✦ Petting Princess is...interesting. It's amazing to be able to get this close to a live Soulless without fearing for your life. The texture of her is unlike any other creature. She's sleek, leathery. Your brain fights the proximity at first. It's hard to divorce yourself from the idea of danger but you push past it to pet her. (You hear Ais make a little hum at that - surprise, approval. You can't tear your eyes away from the Soulless in front of you long enough to check his expression. There's the ghost of a smile on his face when you finally manage.)

✦  And the fact that she purrs... He hears you talking to yourself about how that's absolutely fascinating, the implications, do the Soulless communicate (unprecedented information!) or is this something specific to the Sea Spring? Wait, even if it is Sea Spring specific, why does she have the anatomy to make a purring vocalization? It's not like the Sea Spring changed her physically...? Although... maybe it did...?

✦  Ais can admit that your scholarly tangents are endearing. You could have chosen a safer interest/profession, though. One less likely to get you into trouble. But you've survived this far. Maybe he should give you more credit.

✦  Needless to say: being around them both at the same time...they're more than just a handful. (Don't say that to Vere. The handjob joke makes itself.) They are terrifying as a team, constantly bouncing off each other trying to mess with you.

✦  And about that bet...they suppose they could share the win. If that's what it takes.

[calicos-clones]

I don’t think people realize how freaked out fanfic readers get when their favorite author(s) doesn’t update their ongoing schedule ON TIME.

And it’s not cause we want the chapter…it’s cause we’re so fucking worried about the Author.

Like— OMG ARE YOU OKAY? YOU’VE BEEN GIVING US THE TRAGIC UPDATES OF YOUR LIFE IN THE NOTES THE PAST 10 CHAPTERS?! WHY STOP? ARE YOU DEAD? DID YOU GET STUCK IN THE WALL LIKE YOUR CAT?? HAVE YOU EATEN?? HAS YOUR BRAIN EXPLODED??

Readers no longer care about the story when they don’t get their usual update. We panic and flag S.O.S as we track down our wayward author who has been both blessed by the universe with a creative mind and cursed all the same with the worst luck.

So any authors who are reading this please understand— when we comment “hey are you okay?” in your comments. No, we are not asking about the chapter.

We are legitimately concerned for your wellbeing. Do not force yourself to shit out a chapter just to appease other ppl when you yourself are not in the mental state to enjoy it or even write it to begin with.

TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF DAMMIT

[aftgphoenix]

I’m thinking of a Neil with a kid fic but the kid is one that Neil found abandoned somewhere as an infant and decided to raise them. Maybe after he buried his mom on his way to Arizona?