#reader discourse

[littler13]

What if…

Fem!Reader (Isabel Magnolia’s sister) x Levi Ackerman in a secret affair.

Not a full day goes by before Levi makes his way into the clinic again, locking the door behind him as soon as he gets in. Like a man on a mission, set on what he wants — the only way he knows how to live, an intensity that consumes you entirely. You turn to look at him from where you’re standing in front of the desk, frowning while he approaches.

“I wasn’t expecting you today,” you’re cut short and breathless when he reaches you, picking you up and landing you on the table in a swift movement. You hear the sound of objects tumbling to the ground, impatient hands moving them away. There’s not even time to giggle before his lips are covering yours, soft and wet and demanding, but you smile against them nevertheless. “What about Furlan and Isabel?”

“I told them I’d meet them at the apartment later, and that I needed to clear my head or another dumb excuse,” he breathes close to your mouth, closed eyes, hiding the heat that lives within them for this short instant.

You nod and sigh, already crumbling under his hands so easily. There are many things you know by now, about his body as well as your own, all the different ways desire and pleasure can be dragged out and brought to completion. Still, there are some things about the nature of this that you can’t quite figure out, which maybe attests to your lack of experience beyond him: are you supposed to feel your pulse quicken from the sight of him only? Sense his presence like a shift in atmosphere, engulfed by the scent of him from afar? Be consumed by the familiar tugging in your lower abdomen and have heat spreading through your center even before his touch has reached you? Could any man make you feel this way, if not Levi?

It’s been months of this, quick escapades between patients and robberies, secret sessions of stolen kisses and undercover sighs. You’re used to his impatience, the urge he has to reach out and touch after days of carefully crafted indifference. He was never one for physical contact, and you suppose you weren’t, either. You wonder why it feels different, now: is this only the effect that life-long deprivation can cause in people? Is that why you feel addicted to it, while he looks restless and even greedy every time you do this? In spite of your own natures, closeness calls to you, as if you’ve only recently found out that you’ve been starving from the lack of it.

Whatever it may be that causes this, you like it. You like it too much , a scorning voice appears to whisper in your ear. Its insistence makes you pull away, also halting his crumpling hands over your shirt at the sides of your body. It’s only then that you’re able to take a good look at his face, the slight furrowing of his forehead that indicates he’s upset about something.

“Elric withdrew from the deal again, the bastard,” he explains before you even ask. “He said it’s become too risky to conduct business with us, because of those idiots from the Military Police that have been on our asses. As if they’ll ever even come close,” he scoffs. While he speaks, your fingers drift from his nape to the sides of his neck, unconsciously trying to soothe him. You think he likes that — one more idiosyncrasy in your arrangement —, but you never really asked.

That’s a big issue, because Elric is an important client with enough purchasing power to push you closer to the surface with each successful business. His withdrawal is a tough setback, and it also means less money to afford the high-end medicines that Yan requires. Levi has every reason to be disappointed.

He leans in again, making his intentions clear. No more talking . This is what he does: he’s upset, he comes here. He’s particularly satisfied about a deal, he comes here. He’s not feeling anything at all, just drifting through the day and trying to find something to take him out of his numbness, his footsteps lead him to this same awaiting place with open arms and legs. This will never not be a mystery to you: why does he do it? Is it boredom, routine, distraction? And why do you keep letting him in? You can pretend not to know the answer to this last question, even though the truth of it has become increasingly hard to ignore.

His kisses become more pressing, hands working to open the buttons of your shirt, lips falling to your neck — good . He mumbles against your skin, finger drifting to draw patterns on the patches of your body he skillfully exposes. There’s a drunkenness to him that only becomes evident in moments such as these, which makes you think he actually likes this as much as you do. There’s lust in his stance, but also care — right?

You sigh and try to keep up, but the rushing thoughts slow your movements. It’s not that you’re starting to question this; it has more to do with the fact that you haven’t questioned this at all, ever since it started. Things just happened and kept on happening, and you told yourself that it was enough to go with the flow, just following wherever it would lead you. You don’t know what changed, exactly, but something seems to have, as the strong pounding of your chest every time he walks in would indicate; or the way you’ve been struggling to keep your hands to yourself in front of Isabel and Furlan, now, having to be extra careful not to let your excitement show when Levi’s fingers graze your skin or when Levi’s eyes flicker across the room to find yours.

“Aren’t you afraid Furlan will figure it out at this rate? He did say he’s onto us,” you recall the vow Furlan swore to see through only yesterday, trying to sound playful, both arms around Levi’s shoulders. Still holding him close in spite of your unexpected, spiraling doubts, legs opening to accommodate his body. He sighs and rests his forehead over your shoulder, leaning both hands on each side of you over the table. Sensing your hesitancy; frustrated about it? He raises his head to look at a spot beyond you, and you want to kiss his cheek. But you refrain yourself from doing it, because that would be purely affectionate, not at all seductive. Would he like it?

“It took months for him to even start suspecting,” he huffs. He seems tired, as the marks under his eyes would suggest. And he came here. Your heart aches inexplicably just from the sight of him, a disgruntling sensation. “At this rate, we’ll find our ways to the surface long before his slow head figures it out”.

And would that be so bad? , you bite your tongue before you say it. Not telling seemed to make sense when this abruptly started. It was never a decision, but something you ended up rolling along with, since it was easier to just keep it between you than to try to explain — hey, we’re casually fucking, is that cool with you?

But time passed — months that seem to hold the same worth of decades. Isabel is not a training girl Levi and Furlan took in anymore, but a steady part of the gang. And you’re not simply Isabel’s sister, but a close addition to the group and a constant part of their plans and ideas. You can’t see yourself parting ways with them, the closest to family you think you’ll ever get. None of you ever dared say the word to each other, almost afraid to jinx it; but it’s true.

So you want to say something about it, but you don’t know what . It’s been a thrilling secret, and maybe you should feel satisfied with that. But you want more , and you’re afraid he’ll keep getting comfortable with less , until whatever this is will just fade into nothing.

“I’m sorry for the deal,” you whisper instead, trying to remind yourself of why he’s here , convince yourself of a satisfying reason. It’s not just sex, but the comfort that exists in it. Deep down, he must know you understand , and that you’re someone he can share his frustrations with — which has happened time and time again, in the form of disgruntled, scattered admissions. You know him, and he knows you; that’s enough, or it has to be.

He doesn’t respond, but his eyes soften, his hand raising to hold your cheek in a way that is almost tender. When he kisses you again, you can feel the vibration of a hum pouring into your tongue, low and sultry, reaching out to spread through your whole body. Languidness takes over the previous rush, your hands bringing his face even closer, wanting to exist in the way your mouths meld together. He bites your bottom lip hard and licks it within a heartbeat, blurring the line between pain and pleasure until you’re unable to tell them apart. Unable to recognize your own voice, needy and breathy, whimpering his name in half agony, half rapture.

His left hand continues to cradle your face affectionately — you can tell yourself that —, tongue meeting yours in a slow dance. Your fingers dig into his hair, then wander down to feel the expanse of his chest, the shape of his muscles, almost cut-open and bleeding from the sharpness they meet in every corner of him. From the ethereal contour of his face to the honed sturdiness of his body, all of him seems to rip you apart and exposed, an incredibly gentle experience in spite of the deadliness. His hands are soft where they touch you, intent and so warm, drifting to rest on your thighs. Kneading, coaxing, thumbs circling the sensitive region of your lap until you’re dizzy and panting with want.

Your shirt is already half open from his previous efforts, enough of your cleavage showing for his eyes to get caught in it, simultaneously glinting and darkening with lust. He kisses his way down your throat and collarbone, his rhythm building into what it was before, desperate and hungry while he ravages your skin and leaves hidden marks on his wake. You almost cry out when his fingers graze your center, at the same time his lips close around your pebbled nipple over your thin undershirt.

So good , you can hear him mutter from time to time, nodding your head in earnest. He’s not much of a talker when you do this, but his occasional words of encouragement and appreciation are enough to make your insides melt. This is good , your mind repeats in a loop, too damn good , your shirt finally falling all the way down from your shoulder while you work to undo the buttons of his, completely intoxicated in him. His scent, the sweep of his tongue against your lips, the flexing of his arms when they pull you impossibly closer. You have all of this memorized by now, even if it feels new in every repetition.

You’re unraveling with every one of his low groans, the spark in his eyes raising too big of a fire that licks you inside and out, an exquisite burning. This is good , and you know him, don’t you? You know the effect he has on your body, the lowness of his voice, the bite of his clever statements as well as the softness hidden behind the harsh way in which he sometimes delivers his words. But you also know why he holds teacups from the top instead of the handle, the story of how hot liquid stained his clothes and scorched his skin when the delicate china snapped, making him too wary to trust it again. You know how he and Furlan met, the kind of childish alliance that only neglected kids can find in each other, growing into an unbreakable fellowship with every passing week, for years, now. You know that he hates his birthday and the way that it coincides with Christmas, reminding him of the kind of homely celebration he will never experience. The smell of death and the ache in his stomach at the small room he was confined to when too little to escape it, as well as the second desertion he was met with in his life when mysterious eyes turned his back on him for the last time.

You bury your head in the crook of his neck and sigh, letting the feeling of his hands on your breasts take over you completely, the familiarity of it all. The dangerous, delicious familiarity.

[watchingwisteria]

listen there really was just something about how in the book, snow’s 3-page descent from hesitant lover boy to deluded mfer happens entirely in his mind. lucy gray gives him no indication whatsoever that she suspects him, that she’s going to leave or betray him. he’s just sitting quietly in the cabin waiting for her to return when that seed of calculated suspicion, which he has needed to survive the capitol, takes a hold of him and chokes the life out of any goodness left inside him. it really drives home your terror as a reader that “oh my god did he kill her? did she escape? what happened to her? why would he even think that?” in a way that when the movie had to adjust for visualization it lost some of that holy shit this guy has lost it emphasis.

[unlikelypandahologram]

Who will win the fight for Optimus Prime's love? His canon girlfriend? His worst enemy who's tried to kill him multiple times?? His best friend??? The guy who screams a lot???? Place your bets now folks!!

(Commission for me by the very talented lextodrawstuff! Also, BONUS LMAO)

[miindjack]

friendly reminder since discourse is happening and peepaw is tired:

this is okay to reblog. in fact, i highly encourage it.

[fulltacs]

IT’S A MIRACLE Y’ALL!!!

@codslut ROSE FROM THE DEAD TO BLOCK AND UNBLOCK ME AFTER MY LAST ADDITION TO HER/ @sheheal ‘s POST!!! HALLELUJAH!!!

bitch.

[alucarddear]

Position anon again, would you please write a NSFW alphabet for Alucard? Pretty please? 🥺

Alucard N S F W Alphabet*

I'm personally offended that I haven't done this for Lulu before. Anyway, rather than just spelling out his name, I'll give you the entire alphabet. Heh. This is LONG! Your thoughts and keyboard smashes are welcome. 🤭

P.S. I go explicit and specific; read at your own risk. I also tried my best to keep it as gender-neutral as possible, so this is [Alucard x You]. However, I did have a little self-indulgent fun with W: wild card, the only section with an obvious she/her indication. Just so you know!

A: Aftercare (what they're like after sex)

Aftercare is not optional to this dhampir. It's a must. It doesn't matter if you had a quick romp or a long night, he'd still take the time to treat you right, especially if he'd been rather rough with you.

Forehead kisses, soft caresses, helping clean you up—you name it and he's got it covered. It's all about making sure you feel loved, appreciated, and cared for.

Alucard is not one to just up and leave or make you feel used. In fact, it's noticeable how much more he dotes on you after actually using you up good and fucking you raw into next week. 😏

B: Body part (their favourite body part of theirs and their partner’s)

Your neck. Let's not even pretend that Alucard doesn't gravitate towards it. As you ride him, he buries his face in the crook of your neck and nips and pecks at your throat. There's a part of him that wants to sink his fangs into you then and there and another that wants nothing more than to whisper sweet nothings against your skin as you throw your head back in bliss.

Alucard likes his hands—the way they're so large against yours; how perfectly your hands feel in his own. He likes his hands gripping your thighs or hips, his hand coming down to slap your ass, his hands caressing every inch of you. The way his hand closes around your wrist, encircling it completely as if it was made to do nothing but. The way he pushes you down with his hand on the small of your back as he prepares to take you from behind. Most of all, all of the things his hands can do to make you cum.

C: Cum (anything to do with cum)

Alucard's desire to spill his seed inside you is next to nothing sometimes. If you'd let him, he'd bury himself balls-deep and cum inside you each and every time.

He loves to make you cum, loves the way you sound—the hitching of your breath, your begging, the way you can barely keep yourself from shaking as he coaxes yet another orgasm out of you. He loves to praise you for it. "God, you're fucking beautiful," is something you hear often. It just never gets old.

D: Dirty secret (a dirty secret of theirs)

Alucard loves when you allow him to bend you over whichever way he pleases. Loves how tiny and pliable you look underneath him, adjusting and propping your arms and legs as he sees fit. Just the sight of you like that, it's enough to push him over the edge.

So, you know he draws you—you are his muse after all. You've seen his sketches. But not the ones of your beautiful, naked body. Not even the tasteful pieces he draws as you sleep. Not the ones where, try as he might, he just can't replicate how utterly divine you look when he fucks you. He's a talented artist, but nothing tops the real thing.

E: Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Is he very experienced? No. Does he know what he's doing? Hell yes. His mother was a doctor and his father is a man of science. He lives in a castle full of resources. He has deep knowledge of biology—he's got the theory down pat. Sure, he fumbled a little the first few times, but he quickly learnt how you like to be pleased.

Besides, being a dhampir, Alucard is in tune with your body's responses to his ministrations. When you're intimate, he can practically feel your heart racing, dear. He knows when you're close, can tell when he's hitting it good, need I say more?

F: Favourite position (this goes without saying)

Mastery. He sits on the edge of the bed, feet flat on the floor to support you sitting on top of him with your legs bent on either side of him, your feet flat on the bed. This position allows you to wrap your arms around his neck and kiss. It lets you start off slow, very intimate—with you grinding against and riding him. Once you're a little tired (or he starts growing impatient), he simply grips your hips and pounds up into you until you're a screaming wreck. His grip on your hips and his feet securely planted on the floor allows him to rut into you fast. And the view? Fucking fantastic. He loves watching you come undone like this, seeing you throw your head back and expose your throat to him. Yes.

For a quick romp, you can't go wrong with doggy style. When you're in his study and you both get a little too distracted? He’ll bend you over his desk and have his way with you.

G: Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Oh, he's very serious about giving both of you a good time, alright. He might do something that makes you giggle, sure, but for the most part it's probably accidental and not his intention. Sex with Alucard can be intimate and sweet or downright animals humping in the undergrowth (👀), no in between. He's not here for the shits and giggles, darling.

H: Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

It does match. Maybe not all the time completely bare, but he keeps himself neat and tidy. Do you see his luxurious hair? He takes care of himself down there too.

I: Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Alucard loves to see you and hear you. He's considerate and goes out of his way to find what works for you. So much so he probably has ruined you for anyone else. You'll never find a more receptive lover; it’s time to accept that.

When you make sweet love, he whispers sweet nothings against your skin. He peppers kisses all over you and makes you feel like the most gorgeous being on the planet. He's not afraid to voice his thoughts out loud too, praising you and urging you on.

J: Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

You remember those naughty sketches of you? Yep. He has used them a couple times while you were away. You're in his thoughts whenever he touches himself.

K: Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Edging. He not-so-secretly loves it when you beg. How are you to know how much more you can take? He'll just have to show you.

When you moan his name as you grip the sheets and quake beneath him? Yeah. He loves it, especially when you can barely even make out the words for “Adrian, please, please, please.”

When you take control and ride him like your life depends on it, it does something to his brain. You on top, taking control and looking absolutely beautiful as you do so... he could cum just from the thought of it.

There is a part of him that likes the thought of cumming deep inside you and breeding you. Maybe it's that loneliness that sometimes nags at him, maybe he yearns for a family, but he can't lie this feels utterly divine.

L: Location (favourite places to do the do)

The bed is cliche, but it works and is comfortable. Your kitchen counter, desk, against the wall or a tree, table, or out at some secluded clearing by the lake... Alucard is truly not that picky, as long as you're not out in the public for other eyes to see and you’re both comfortable.

M: Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Your reactions and enthusiasm. Knowing you're into it just as much as he is.

When you sashay towards him, crooking your finger at him to beckon him closer? He's right there with you in a heartbeat.

When you wear his shirt and it swallows your smaller frame? It turns him on more than he lets on.

When you moan his name and gasp and writhe in pleasure. When you beg for him to take you harder, faster, and deeper. It just about short-circuits his brain.

N: No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Any form of bondage or restrictions to his movement. It brings up unnecessary trauma and makes him feel that he's not in control or safe. He is mostly a switch, sure, letting you take control and dominate too, but tying him up is just a no-go for him.

He won't transform into a wolf. It's practically bestiality, which he's not down for.

Somnophilia or any other act where consent can be dubious. He's just big on consent and trust, for obvious reasons.

O: Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He loves having absolute control over your pleasure, knowing it's him coaxing the sighs and moans and screams out of you. He enjoys how easily he can make you cum and drive you mad.

That said, he also loves watching you pleasure him, taking as much of his hard length as you can, especially whenever you greedily swallow his load.

P: Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

It really depends. Sex can be whatever it needs to be in the moment. While he loves nothing more than to take his time and make sweet love to you, he also loves ravaging you and leaving you utterly spent. It's satisfying either way.

The usual case is he begins slowly and sensually, but by the end of it (and sometimes without warning), he's rutting into you like his life depends on it.

Q: Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He isn't above having a quickie if that is all time permits, but he would really much rather have his way with you properly!

R: Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Given that he's a dhampir, he knows exactly how to go unseen or unnoticed. It's likely his risk assessment is much more honed. You might think you're being risky, but he is well aware of the chances of you getting caught in the act.

As for experimenting—other than his hard reservations (the ones listed in N), he is game to experiment and try different things you may be curious about as long as you both feel safe and comfortable about them.

S: Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He's a dhampir... need I say more? The chances of you exhausting him first is little. Sorry to burst your bubble. 😆 He's got stamina for days, honey.

T: Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Alucard is not above using toys to pleasure you. But what can a toy do that he can't do better? Hah. Chances are he will attempt to learn how it pleases you and try to replicate that with his own cock, mouth, and hands.

U: Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He can be such a little tease. You know the way he banters. That snark and sass can sometimes make their way inside the bedroom too.

"What was that, darling?" he'd ask, as if his amazing sense of hearing wasn't enough to register your begging as he edges you for the nth time. "Tsk. Patience, my love..." he would even dare chide you!

Alucard also loves to glide his fangs over your skin, just enough to leave a faint mark but not enough to draw blood.

V: Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He’s not shy to let you know he’s having a good time, but he’s also not overly loud. He gasps, moans, and curses, a tight-lipped “Fuck!” slipping out once in a while.

W: Wild card (a random headcanon)

He loves to praise you. His way of talking dirty is to let you know how good you feel around him. How ethereal you are, how perfect for him, how you taste so sweet.

He encourages you as he pushes you over the limit. “Yes, yes, darling, you can take it. Cum for me,” he would say. He’d place a kiss on your open mouth as you convulse around him as he rips yet another orgasm out of you. “My sweet darling,” he would groan, wiping the sweat off your brow. “How perfect you are. Good girl.” And just like that, he’s about to do it all over again. RIP. 😫

X: X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

He’s active and it shows. He’s well built without being overly bulky. It suits him—muscular/toned yet elegant and lean.

He’s packing a just-about-above average penis, but nothing you cannot handle. The man’s over six foot, it just fits.

Y: Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Alucard is the type to yearn and pine, so set the volume level up cause he cannot get enough of you. Enough said.

Z: Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Sometimes you drift off to sleep together, but you usually fall asleep first.

He’s a night owl. He’d take you in his arms and stroke your hair as you sleep, admiring the way you glow under the moonlight, and wonder how he got so lucky to have found you. 🤍🌙

[roanniom]

About this post, he would like know all the little known tricks too, like he’d pick up guy and girl-targeted magazines in order to gain as much knowledge as possible. The man is a nerd, he’d absolutely read up on giving a girl head. He knows the ‘come hither’ motion, he knows how to pay attention to the clit, he knows about pacing, and you bet he knows about the ‘seven pleasure points of women’ from Friends.

Critical Hit

Virgin!Eddie Munson x Fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ ONLY, fingering

I’m just imagining Eddie Munson looking at you naked for the first time and just freezing. You think it’s cute and so you’re all gentle and sweet and encouraging and you just lay back and let him explore you.

But within 0.5 seconds he’s got his fingers in your pussy and his mouth on your tits and he’s sucking and thrusting and rubbing and you are writhing beneath all the attention.

“I thought you didn’t know what you’re doing!” you accuse with a yelp, eyes rolling back in your head.

He pulls off your breast with a pop and looks at you with a furrowed brow and wet, pouting lips.

“I have no idea what I’m doing!” he insists anxiously. But his fingers keep fucking you and your legs try to close in on his hand, back arching off the bed.

“What the fuck, Munson! Are you hustling me? I’m - mmm - it’s been like five minutes and I’m already - fuck!”

He perks up at that, using the hand not inside you to pet at your clit. The pressure is irregular but somehow exactly what you need??

“You’re already what?” he asks. Incredulous and eager and way too much like a puppy. “Do you mean you’re gonna cum?”

“Fuuuck…” you whine, dragging a pillow over and covering your face with it, really in order to bite into it. You feel embarrassed about being so easy for him, and for assuming he’d be some lost teenager when it came to your body. Virgin or not, Eddie Munson was playing you like one of his guitars and you were about to snap.

“No no don’t hide! That’s not fucking fair,” Eddie all but whines like a petulant child, tugging at the pillow till you let go of it weakly. His eyes blow wide and his fingers pick up the pace on your sopping wet, clenching pussy. “Are you…are you drooling? Cuz of me?”

You swipe at the errant spit left at the corner of your mouth from biting the pillow and frown.

“Shut up.”

“That’s fucking hot, Princess,” Eddie says with reverent awe. “You’re so fucking hot.”

You go to respond but can’t because he switches the direction of the swirl on your clit and suddenly you’re coming with a soundless moan that has you gasping open mouthed. Eddie waits patiently through your convulsions, staring at you wide eyed till you drop, spent, back into the sheets. Only then does he punch the air with his fist.

“That seemed like a critical hit of an orgasm if I do say so myself.”

“A critical…wha?” you pant, still not fully back to yourself yet. Left fuzzy and dizzy as you stretch your legs and savor the delicious ache.

“So in DND when you roll a natural 20 - ,”

You throw a pillow and smack him square in the face before he can say another word.

[phlorealcalicanto]

I just read all of Worm in like a month and I kept frantically reaching for the next chapter thinking surely, SURELY this is the one where the tension between Taylor and Rachel reaches a breaking point and they fuck messy style while some unspeakable calamity happens around them. And it just. never happens. (the fucking I mean, the calamities keep happening a bunch)

[konigsblog]

crazy, how the majority of my haters are either hypocrites, or are just straight up LYING. lmfao, i've written rape before and i apply appropriate warnings, but i've never ever written PEDOPHILIA. 😬

their username on tumblr is @asgardswinter, they have continuously mentioned me on their blog. it's literally creepy and clearly obsessive, lmfao, and lying about me writing pedophilia is real fucking weird considering they don't apply any further context or include any evidence to back up this claim...

i'd appreciate it if you reported their twitter account or blog for like harassment ����‍💨

[bookofspiders]

there is absolutely nothing a nightly doom scroll on jstor won’t solve

[oh-katsuki]

i haaate when I end up on fanfiction tiktok like get me away from here. “y/n shouldn’t have a backstory or a personality because then I can’t completely insert myself” OKAY! that’s fine actually because I’m writing a story for myself and it seems like you want a blank piece of paper. I will literally blow up this entire planet.

[faerygardens]

There are more tallulah & tommy fics on ao3 than there are pac & mike fics

[genetics4life]

If your actions contributed to the mass exodus of Pedro boy writers in the past 48 hours: I hope your botox migrates, you wake up with a sore neck every morning for the next 10 years, and you get audited on your taxes.

[spacecasehobbit]

After seeing yet another popular tumblr post with thousands of reblogs bemoaning the state of comments on fanfics these days - more specifically, the supposed lack of commenting these days, as opposed to The Good Old Days - I have decided that this is in fact a hill I am willing to die on. I'm making a separate post about it rather than reblogging the latest iteration, though. This is hardly the first time I've seen these types of discussions, and my issue is with the mindset in general, not any of the specific people who hold it.

In the most recent version, the entire post with all its various arguments and assertions was plenty frustrating across the board, but it included one line in particular that cut beautifully to the heart of my issue with this type of discussion. The line in question:

"fanfic authors now are treated like content mills, and not like valued members of a creative community who thrive on interaction."

Once I read this bit, I had to stop, take a few deep breaths, and then go make my own post before I imploded over the sheer level of NOPE this line inspired. And okay. The thing is... I want to say this as gently and kindly as I possibly can, but I need to be real blunt for a minute, too.

That line I quoted sounds like a wannabe social media influencer.

It sounds like a person who thinks fandom is - or should be - comprised of fanfiction writers, aka Valued Content Creators, and their respective communities of readers, aka Content Consumers, a strictly distinct group from fic writers, for whom they create fanfiction content and who in turn pay them back with attention and validation in the form of comments and praise.

It does not sound like a fanfiction author who enjoys the creative hobby of writing stories based on characters and worlds from existing stories, engaging in their hobby within a community of other likeminded creators of fan content.

Frankly, fandom has always been worst when it starts obsessing over Big Name Fans who wind up treated like elite fandom social influencers, instead of hobbyists engaging in a fun hobby together based on mutual interests. A shift towards the idea that every fanfic writer should be effectively a social media influencer whose community consists of fans reading the content they oh-so-lovingly create (but only if they get enough positive attention from passive consumers, presumably readers who don't write their own fic or expect comments back from the author in return) sounds like an absolutely awful direction for fandom to take.

I don't want fanfiction and fandom spaces to turn into another social media space full of Our Valued Content Creators, all fighting to build the largest "community" of passive consumers turned devoted followers.

Again, that sounds frankly fucking awful.

The people who only read fanfiction are not your fanfiction community, because they are not engaging in the shared community hobby of writing fanfiction. Your fanfiction community is, perhaps, the other people who are also writing their own fanfiction based on someone else's original work.

So perhaps if comments really are declining on fics these days, instead of asking why passive readers aren't heaping praise on every fic they read and making sure it all happens where the Valued Creator can hear it, you should ask yourself how many other fanfics you've commented on recently, and then go comment on another one if you're still feeling down about your own work.

Or, I dunno, find a fic author you admire and send them a message on tumblr, if you've already commented on all of their fics that you read and enjoyed.

Or start your own discord for likeminded fans, or find a way to set up your own fandom forums centered on your personal fandom interests and invite other fic authors to come join.

Or, like, anything that involves reaching out to the actual community of hobbyists you can reasonably consider to be a community you are actually a part of.

Aka, other fanfiction writers.

[sofiadragon]

Hey fanfiction loving friend!

AO3 has the ability to turn off comments, moderate comments, restrict comments to logged in users only, or let anyone comment on your story. Most other fanfiction hosting websites do not allow comments to be turned off and in the case of some (wattpad) highly encourage comments even on individual paragraphs.

Over on reddit, someone said it is an unwritten rule of fanfiction that you should never leave a negative or critical comment on a story. This was countered most strongly by many arguments. Despite many people asserting that their stance was the one truth and that there was no debate on the topic - there was a lot of debate about what criticism even is and where the line should be for if giving concrit is alright.

So give this some thought:

If you have tea to spill, examples or an argument you want to make, please do. I have some that go both ways, but I'm going to wait for a few responses so I don't pre-empt the results. I'm not going to vote myself for a while, either, so I won't know which way the poll is leaning when I do pour my tea. I tried to cover all the flavors of debate I've seen in the many "definitive" posts I have read here and on reddit. Please reblog for a wider sample!

[bookwyrminspiration]

It's fun to bemoan the odd lines and such, and I was gonna make a joke, but I do think it is genuinely sad how much of Unraveled's promo is leaning so heavily into shipping.

Not because I hate sokeefe or Keefe, but because this is such a massively popular story that has so much to offer outside of a single ship, and it's such a disservice to the years of work Shannon has put in to crafting these characters' stories and world. And to the countless fans who adore the story and characters outside of this single ship.

Both Sophie and Keefe are more than sokeefe, and the way this story about injustice, and rebellion, and loss of self, and grief is being overshadowed by a relationship? See the kiss scene! sokeefe art! foster-related quote! These things themselves aren't bad, but there's no balance; they should be part of more, not the whole thing. KOTLC deserves to retain its complexity in marketing! The readers, including young, deserve to have the story not watered down for them when it's being pushed!

There's also something about how publishers told Shannon KOTLC wouldn't sell because Sophie's a girl, and she pushed through that, only for Sophie to become almost an accessory to Keefe's story here? Making appearances that focus on what Keefe thinks of her instead of Sophie herself. I don't have this fully articulated, but hopefully you see what I'm getting at

Shannon's said for years she hates love triangles, didn't mean to write one, and tries to stay firmly Team Sophie. And I believe her, which makes it worse seeing how despite Shannon's efforts, her story about a brave, stubborn, reckless, passionate girl trying to find herself and do what she can to right the wrongs she sees in the world is getting pared down to a love story.

Now we do have six more weeks to go, so we could get some variety in the future. it's just frustrating so far, and as fun as it is to make silly little jokes about it, I do think there is a genuine critique here of publishing and marketing and treatment of female led stories (yes, unraveled is about keefe, but Keeper is about Sophie), and I wanted to say something