#that I’ve had the time to get so invested

[zeroseuniverse]

please give haneul's dad a love life 😔🙏 he's miserable, I can hear him sighing all day and night and I don't even live nearby. please help a young nurse be well fed with fluffy warm pancakes in the morning 🥹🥞

please make a silly old anonymous reader happy by writing a part 2 of "My Dad is Single!" ☝️

You ask and you shall receive my darling Asks are my number 1 priority so I typically try to only take 2-3 days in writing them, I enjoy providing what my readers want so I hope this came out in a timely manner for you!

My Dad Is Single II

S.Coups had no idea how he ended up here.

One moment, he was just a devoted single dad trying to survive his six-year-old's chaotic antics. The next, he was standing in his kitchen, flipping pancakes while Nurse Pretty—sat at his dining table, chatting with Haneul like they were old friends.

Haneul had orchestrated this whole thing, obviously. After her legendary text message, she had laughed it off but agreed to come over—"just for pancakes," she had said. But from the way she kept smiling at him over her coffee, he knew she was enjoying his flustered state way too much.

"So, Haneul," she said, resting her chin on her hand. "Tell me—why are you so determined to find your dad a girlfriend?"

Haneul sighed dramatically, like this was a burden only she could bear. "Because Appa is so lonely."

S.Coups groaned from the stove. "I am not—"

"He sighs all the time," Haneul interrupted. "Like, so much. And he watches sad movies at night."

She smirked. "Ah, the sighing. You told me about that before."

"Right?!" Haneul threw her hands up. "It’s a problem."

S.Coups turned around, pointing a spatula at his daughter. "You’re making me sound like a tragic drama lead."

"You are a tragic drama lead," Haneul said, dead serious. "But don’t worry! This is the episode where you find love again."

She burst out laughing while S.Coups slumped against the counter, defeated.

"Unbelievable," he muttered for what felt like the hundredth time.

"You say that a lot," She teased, taking a sip of her coffee.

"Because this keeps happening!" He gestured at Haneul, who was happily munching on a pancake like she hadn’t just thrown him under the bus.

She just smiled. "Well, I have to admit—this is probably the most unique way I’ve ever been asked out."

S.Coups nearly dropped the plate he was holding. "Wait—was this… an ask out?"

she tilted her head, pretending to think. "Well, I was invited to your house. You cooked for me. There’s a cute child who’s very invested in our future. Sounds like a date to me."

S.Coups blinked, completely thrown. "I—uh—what—"

Haneul leaned forward and stage-whispered to her , "He’s shy."

she grinned. "It’s cute."

S.Coups groaned again. "I am not shy!"

"You’re blushing," Haneul pointed out.

He pressed a hand to his face. Oh my God, I am.

She reached for a pancake, her smile softening. "Relax, S.Coups. I’m just teasing. But… I wouldn’t mind getting to know you better. If that’s something you’d be open to."

S.Coups stared at her, completely caught off guard. He hadn’t expected this. At all. And yet, with Haneul beaming up at him and her looking at him with those warm, patient eyes, he found himself… considering it.

Slowly, a small smile crept onto his face. "I guess… I wouldn’t mind either."

Haneul exploded into cheers, nearly knocking over her juice. "YES! Finally!"

she laughed, and S.Coups couldn’t help but chuckle too, shaking his head.

"Unbelievable," he muttered one last time—but this time, it felt different. Lighter. Like maybe, just maybe, his little drama lead moment was turning into a rom-com after all.

[lavender-twilight23]

IMPROMPTU FANFICTION TED TALK

I’m gonna address something that I have thought about recently and then also give a little pep talk to anybody else that might be feeling this way or in a similar way:

Fanfiction is a valid form of expression and it’s okay to write fanfiction, no matter your age, no matter your life circumstance!

Recently, I’ve had doubts about whether or not I should still be writing fanfiction. I’m in my second semester of college, pursuing film, and I have plenty of original stories (three novels, four screenplays) floating around in my head that I keep telling myself I should get back into. But I still find myself feverishly writing fanfiction and pouring heaps of creative energy into that. And especially with how much fucking fanfiction I’ve written in the past six months, (over 201,000 words worth) I’ve had tons of thoughts like:

“You’re pursuing your passions, looking toward the future into your career ambitions, AT COLLEGE, and you’re STILL writing fanfiction?”

“It’s ridiculous how much fanfiction you’re churning out with all the original stories you have sitting in the back of your head that need to get written.”

“You’re wasting your time writing fanfiction, you should be investing your time into your original works, y’know, the things that are ACTUALLY gonna get released into the world one day.”

“You not gonna get paid for writing fanfiction– put more energy into writing the stories that you’ll actually end up getting paid to write rather than spending your time writing things that will only ever seen the light of a social media website.”

And shit like that. So I have thought recently: Why are you still writing fanfiction now that you’re taking active steps toward pursuing your dreams? Why are you writing THIS MUCH fanfiction when you should be spending your creative time working on your films/original novels?

Yep. So I guess some sort of guilt, or self-deprecation about writing fanfiction. And not just about the fanfiction writing itself, but also about HOW MUCH fanfiction I’ve been writing, to a point where I either 1) always have a project going, something I’m in the middle of, 2) always something next on my queue (I literally wrote a whole fanfic queue and color coded it to organize it for future fanfics and I have a huge-ass note on my phone/computer dedicated to recording/brainstorming ideas), or 3) spend more time in my fanfic-planning journal than taking notes for my college classes.

I’m doing well in classes and all that shit, but still, I find myself feeling bad that I write so much fanfiction, so to both combat that, and to give validation to others who might be hesitant about writing fanfiction as I've felt in the past:

IF IT MAKES YOU HAPPY, IT’S VALID, AND YOU SHOULD KEEP DOING IT.

If it brings you joy, it has a purpose in your life. Fanfiction is just yet another way to express love for something you like, something you love, and that obsession comes out as passion, which has to be expressed, and it’s no different than drawing fan art, making edits, or even any hobby that ISN’T directly tied to a fandom.

If writing fanfiction is how you prefer to spend your creative time, then it has a place in how you live your life.

If it makes you happy and brings you joy, then it has a reason for being in your life.

Fanfiction has a purpose in your life, let it fulfill that purpose.

Thank you for coming to my TED talk.

Carry on. ❤️🩷🧡💛💚🩵💙💜

[utilitycaster]

I’ve never actually watched a campaign of critical role live, like I first heard of it at the start of c3, didn’t finish campaigns 1 and 2 until episode like 80, and decided to just let c3 finish airing so I could binge. You’ve been in fandom since c2, and I wanted to ask two questions. How does criticism of c3 differ from c2, or even c1? Also, since the fandom has grown and the cast is now much more removed from the fans, do you think if they ever do another long form campaign they’ll try and address some complaints people have had about c3? Or will they just continue to do their own thing? It just feels (to me with no point of comparison) that a lot of people have a lot of valid complaints about c3 and I can’t imagine they’d just ignore all of it, but I could just be naive

Let me answer the ending question first, which is that I do not know how much the cast sees and honestly I wouldn't even blame them for ignoring most commentary during the campaign because I think it's hard to actually run a campaign constantly trying to make the fandom happy. I also have some guesses that the cast has their own doubts that are perhaps less harsh than what many of us have been saying, but are present. Like I can't imagine they missed how rushed the emotional beats of this campaign felt, and how bad this party is at making decisions that feel earned and interesting and don't take them 3 hours, even if they might keep that private. I think the flaws of this campaign are also a bit of a perfect storm, namely, Matt had a very specific plot in mind but ran this campaign with too open a hand, and the cast of characters they played could have used a bit more balance. I mean, I'll admit to being unimpressed by a few of Bells Hells' initial premises compared to other parties, but most actually could have become great if they were in a more character-tailored campaign like the previous two. I think without this goal of creating a big culmination in a hypothetical future campaign, this problem of having ill-suited characters for that type of plot and then pushing development aside in the service of that culmination becomes a nonissue.

Now, fan criticism. This gets tricky, because a lot of criticism, to be blunt, sounds similar on the surface no matter how valid it is. For example, "this ship lacks chemistry and development" is basically a criticism people throw at any ship they dislike. Chemistry is ultimately subjective, or at least impossible to measure in a meaningful way (this is why the But Number Go Up crowd hates when it gets brought up, like, doesn't matter how many fics your ship has if I think the characters are cold fish with each other; I'll never like it) and development is not but requires strong meta to back it up and it's hard to prove a negative.

Shipping aside, though: I think the clincher for me is that people who ended up disliking Campaign 2 any time between the ending of the hiatus or after the finale, were as a rule invested in one very specific outcome: either they quit because their ship didn't happen (including the many, many people who thought Fjord and Jester or Beau and Yasha would break up in the finale, apropos of nothing); in the case of Shadowgast that the ship didn't happen in the way they expected; or they quit because Molly was not resurrected. There was certainly a lot of trepidation going into the finale that not all stories would have a satisfying conclusion (notably Caleb, Yasha, and Fjord, all of whom did get meaningful resolution in the finale) but, at least in my circles, no one was arguing that the Nein as a whole felt robbed and that the campaign did them dirty. You had the weirdass Caduceus stans who failed to understand that his story was precisely what he wanted, or the Caleb Should Have Killed Everyone In The Assembly people, but honestly at least in my recollections a lot of those were secondary to various shipping/Molly complaints and grew out of there as a means to bash the campaign for additional reasons, rather than as a root cause for dissatisfaction themselves. Here, we have people who are ostensibly thrilled with the shipping outcome and the endstate with the gods becoming mortal and who were crowing about that up until the finale announcement at which point they, in their own words, crashed out and suddenly began agreeing with everything this campaign's detractors had said re: lack of character-focused arcs and rushed pacing, and I think that's notable.

I don't feel qualified really to speak about Campaign 1 because I wasn't there, but I think in addition to the violent misogynistic hate which Critical Role obviously did not nor should have listened to and taken as guidance, there was the usual "MY SHIP DIDN'T HAPPEN SO THIS CAMPAIGN IS BAD AND PROBLEMATIC" complaints we saw with Campaign 2.

I guess my point is, getting back to that first paragraph about shipping, you can't go off of the phrasing of criticism; you really do need to take it in context.

[beesunshiny]

I quite literally a bit ago did this take on fanon James (for funsies, the Black brothers too) if he was Americanized. See here

I figured why not throw in Remus & Peter to complete the gang. I’m not going too deep into this (spoiler alert I got too deep into Remus), but I’ll explain a little bit since there’s not a lot of race/ethnic debate on these two.

Remus in my mind is most definitely Southern-Southern Central Appalachian coded. Idc where at in the areas you want to settle at, but it would be in that region. The reason I feel this way leans heavy into some of the wolfstar hc’s I’ve come across. For example: Remus is Welsh & has a thick accent which Sirius heavily fucks with.

That perfectly ties into why I’d pin him as Southern-Southern Central Appalachian. You can’t tell me that rebellious New Yorker nepo baby Sirius wouldn’t love a thick Appalachian accent…especially if you consider the overlap of Remus feeling outcasted & Sirius sticking close to him.

People having a hard time understanding him due to his accent & him suppressing it. Ask any southerner how it feels to be perceived by every other region in the USA. (As a southerner…we’re perceived as dumb/slow bc of our draw from the accent so we suppress it to integrate because otherwise people don’t take us seriously & impose harsh stereotypes onto us).

If I had to narrow it down to one state instead of a regional stretch of land…maybe Louisiana. Bro would definitely be in the Bayou region of Louisiana. They also tend to have really thick accents because of the Cajun English.

Peter I feel like would be from either Washington, Oregon, or maybe Colorado. He would be that white kid who grew up in a relatively expensive area that was suburban. Like yeah, he lives near a big city like Seattle, Portland, or Denver…but mainly stays out of the hustle & bustle of loud areas. Probably lives in a gated community, good school, high marks, parents are busy but invest in his future etc.

He’s socially awkward, and he doesn’t really have a strong social system, so I feel like he would maybe have one friend or tolerate disrespect from a small group of people because it’s better to have some friends than none.

Please remember this is just for funsies…I’m not saying the Marauders are American or should be Americanized, but if they were this is how I’d feel about where they are located regionally.

Hope you enjoyed!

[kt1018]

Not Looking for a Hero.

This is an unravel as I go story. A SLOW BURN. My first dip into the Rafe/OBX world and my first direct to Tumblr story. I’ve only ever written for Dramione and I only put out 2 of those stories so… *shrugs*. I’m not sure how long this will be or 100% how I’ll get to where I want to go.

But if people enjoy it I’ll keep going. :)

Warnings : Language and references to cheating. The warnings might change by chapter but I can say there will be language, violence and sexual content in the future. Just not sure when yet, but I’ll do my best to update as I put it out. So don’t get invested if that isn’t something you will want in the future.

This is Rafe Cameron x Y/N (female) Reader 18+

It’s late now.

Or early you suppose?

Close to 2am at this point.

It’s quiet and so are you, walking down the night covered street.

You’re holding yourself tight while an index finger grasps the heels you foolishly chose to wear.

But you don’t mind the feeling of the gravel pushing into the soles of your feet. Growing up in OBX you spent most of your younger days barefoot running around.

That’s not where the pain is sitting anyway.

It’s in your head.

Your head is practically exploding. You can’t believe you’re going through the exact thing everyone warned you about.

Your piece of shit boyfriend, Elliot Coin, cheated on you at his cousin Topper’s “Summer Kick Off” party and you walked right in on it. You arrived not even knowing he was back in town. School ended so you knew he was coming back soon, but he didn’t tell you he’d be here tonight. You were blissfully unaware of how foolish you would feel in just a few short moments.

You showed up late. Walking through the open front door, you received some off glances here and there, but nothing that fully registered enough to pause. At least not until you arrived at the back door to the patio.

Ruthie, Topper’s ex girlfriend, swung in front of you with the most infuriating grin plastered on her face like always.

“I wouldn’t go out there right now if I were you.” Ruthie spat out so matter of fact.

You roll your eyes and step to the side of her, moving back onto your intended path. The beers up for grabs were usually kept by the pool and you needed one ASAP. You weren’t going to engage with Ruthie of all people before having a drink in hand.

That’s when you saw him.

Across the pool.

Elliot positioned in between the legs of some random girl, perched up on the garden wall.

She was running her hands through his now repulsive to you blonde hair. He was rubbing his now vile fingers up her thigh and below her skirt. Faces so close they were practically welded together.

You were so unfortunately sober, everything hit you fully and all at once.

You have been with Elliot for a year. He lived up in Boston during the school year and you met at the start of last summer. At Topper’s kick off party actually. Fitting. Full circle moment.

It was the definition of a perfect summer fling. Beach days followed by pool evenings. Weekends on the yacht, partying with the whole group. Exactly what anyone would dream for the break before senior year. Living like a Kook 101.

You weren’t technically a Kook, but you definitely weren’t what the Pouges would consider on their level. You had friends on both sides of OBX and never really fell too far into one crowd or another. Your family sat somewhere in the middle. Never went without, you just weren’t inherently wealthy.

Not like the Thorton family.

Elliot loved to flaunt his privileges for everyone around to see. Topper was full blown Kook, he was just less in your face about it day to day. They would invite their girls, you and Ruthie, along with a handful of friends out on the water. Spending hours on end drinking and partying, until the sun started to set. Then you’d take the party back to someone’s home until it was time to rest before it all began again the next day.

It was never deep with Elliot in the beginning. During the break you guys would party and hook up. Nothing substantial. You weren’t expecting anything serious from someone who didn’t live there year round anyway. To your surprise though, he asked to keep it going the night before he flew back home.

You agreed.

For awhile you would fall asleep on the phone with him a few nights a week. He would visit when he could, long weekends or breaks. You even went to spend a weekend with his family in Boston. Your textbook long distance arrangement.

It all appeared simple on your end. You didn’t mind him not being around all the time. It allowed you to keep things pretty normal. Focusing on school and your friendships. Not allowing a relationship to engulf your entire world.

Seemed pretty perfect.

Then the week before New Year’s he let you know that he wasn’t able to come down. You were disappointed, but you understood.

You understood in February and April and all the other long weekends that followed.

You understood that the calls became less and less frequent.

Chalking it up to him taking the end of senior year seriously and buckling down. Or just him living in his world, you in yours and how far apart they were. You didn’t want to overthink anything because you had no reason to. Even though it spread over a few months the relationship was still new, so you didn’t want to stress over what was possibly nothing.

Now you’re here. Finding out that it was clearly something and you feel like an idiot. An idiot that was just slapped with her lack of self respect with a force.

You felt like you just let this happen. You ignored all the signs and chose to stay quiet. That led to you getting a front row view of Elliot, clearly forgetting or maybe just not caring that you could show up at any moment.

You stumbled back a few steps bumping Ruthie’s arm with your shoulder. You look towards her, finding that same smirk looking back down on you.

“I tried to tell you” she shrugged with a dry laugh as she walked away, probably to her next victim.

It took everything in you to not snap, taking your new sudden fury out on her. Instead you continue to back up the way you came.

Through the patio door.

Back past all the stares that you now fully recognize.

Right out the front door.

You got to the end of the driveway and leaned against a random car. Taking your first breath, you feel, since you saw Elliot all over that poor girl.

“Fuck!” You choke out partly furious at him and the rest disappointed in yourself.

You pull out your phone to order a car and immediately remember your phone died on the ride there. You had added grab a charger to your to do list, but things clearly spun out before you did.

With another sigh you start to unhook your heels in preparation for the hour ish walk home. You don’t even know what more you need other than that right now. Home. Your bed. Then maybe you can dabble into processing what just happened.

You just needed to get away from this party immediately.

That’s how you find yourself 20 minutes in, barefoot, cold, sober and more tired than you would’ve been had you actually attended this party.

You feel foolish for not paying attention to any of the warnings about Elliot. Foolish for letting his behavior or lack of attention slide. Foolish about ignoring the fact he hadn’t even texted or called. Foolish for not noticing your phone needed to be charged before leaving the house so you weren’t stranded walking home at almost 2am.

You trudge on. What else are you going to do at this point?

Suddenly you hear the sound of a vehicle approaching over the hum of whatever bugs were hiding in the tall grass. You glance behind you and see headlights gaining fast. You move off the road to avoid getting hit and feel the rush of wind whip around you as the truck speeds past.

Just as fast as it went by, the brake lights lit, shift to reverse lights and back up towards you.

Great. Now you’re going to be a roadside victim from one of those made for TV movies your brother falls asleep to on the couch every night.

You shift your grip on your heels so you have one in each hand, ready to take a swing if needed.

The truck meets you before going into the park.

Then the passenger side window rolls down and the cabin light gets flicked on.

“Hi. Y/N… You good?” Comes from the driver's side in the familiar voice of The Rafe Cameron.

Again, your eyes roll. “Yeah Rafe, I’m fine.” You step back out onto the road and continue on towards home.

Rafe Cameron is the biggest player in OBX. The party boy. The Kook Prince, which you always assumed was self titled. You don’t have anything really against him, but you also don’t have anything really for him either. You hangout in the same group and had your basic sarcastic comment here followed by a snappy response there, relationship. He’s not the worst person you know. Especially not today.

There wasn’t much more to like or dislike beyond that.

Besides, you don’t need to be around anyone right now. A long self destructive walk home is better than any company right now. So you walk on.

You hear a click and the sound of tires rolling across the ground as the truck pulls back up onto your left side.

“Not to disagree here but, you don’t look like you’re fine… even if you were, it’s 2 in the morning and you’re strolling barefoot down a dark road in a party dress?” He says with his usual mixture of sarcasm and cockiness.

You stop to face the window and Rafe puts on the brakes to idle by your side. You sigh, shifting your weight to your left leg followed by an annoyed head tilt. You hope this is projecting a casual stance and not even a sliver of the impending stress explosion bubbling so close to the surface.

“I really am fine. Thank you for your concern but you can go now.” You swipe your hand to the side for direction, as if he wasn’t the one just headed that way.

Rafe contorts his face in his typical I call bullshit look. “Right. How about you and I pretend you’re fine” he throws up air quotes to really set in stone that he doesn’t believe you “But you get in the truck anyway and I drive you home so you don’t end up on a milk carton?”

You go to throw a witty retort back and pause. A second attempt that again is followed with just you standing there at a loss.

“Fuck.” You groan.

His offer is the quickest way you can get home. You’ll also avoid any other possible passersby, good or bad.

“Okay. Fine. Thanks” You go to open the door but it’s locked. Your eyes instantly snap up to meet his and to find he has a smirk plastered across his face.

“Sorry.” His tongue lightly swipes his bottom lip and he reaches back to hit the unlock button without losing eye contact with you.

You throw another eyeroll and open the door. As you settle into the passenger seat you adjust your dress so it doesn’t rise up too far.

“Thank you.” You say quietly.

“Hey. I see a damsel. I save a damsel.” He was definitely joking, but you weren’t in the mood.

“Look I appreciate the ride, but there is no saving going on.” You place your shoes next to you and cross your arms to keep yourself warm or protected. You’re not sure which.

Rafe nodded with a light chuckle and took off towards your house.

The windows were all open letting in the summer air. There was a slight chill so you held yourself a little tighter in the breeze.

Rafe must have noticed and absent mindedly grabbed a sweatshirt that was draped over the seat, placing it in your lap.

“Thanks… again.” You say as you throw it over your head. Immediately feeling the warmth cover you.

“No worries.” He says keeping his eyes ahead.

“If you take this right here…” You start.

“I know the way.” Rafe states off hand.

Another quiet nod from you and the rest of the ride is pure silence. You leaned on edge of the window letting the breeze swirl your hair around.

After 20 minutes Rafe pulls into your driveway and puts the car in park. “Well not damsel. Your non-chariot has arrived at your destination.” Then turned to you to see your reaction, resting his elbow on the back of the seat.

You had a slight smirk on your face. “Well thank you anti-hero. I appreciate your service.” You gather your things and step out of the truck. “Oh.” You turn back around and start to remove his sweatshirt.

“Nah. I’ll get it back another time.” He waved you off.

“Okay thanks. If you’re sure.” You pulled the sweatshirt back down.

Rafe nodded with a grin.

You close the door with another barely there smile and walk towards the house.

Rafe backs out and starts to pull away. As he goes by he leans out the window one more time. “Sleep tight Y/N. See ya around.” With a wink he waits for you to get inside, before he takes off.

Finally you’re home and you clean up. Reaching your room you change into a large shirt and crawl into bed.

Then the reality starts to hit after you were able to briefly forget. “FUCK” you whisper louder this time and roll face first into your pillow. You now have to fight for sleep in between the revisiting visions of Elliot and that girl.

It was a hard battle, but eventually sleep started to take over. There was nothing more you could do about it tonight.

Tomorrow you’d put more effort into cleaning up this mess.

Part Two (I will start working on finishing pt. 2 soon)

[rainia]

why would I obsess over a goddamn dnd podcast that goes on perpetual hiatus with no sign of return dudeeee I should never have trusted those white boys

[no1ryomafan]

I realized more and more how my “robo autism” as I call it differs from other people’s obsession with robots because I’ve seen people who like robots completely looking un human as possible and there also be little humans within in the media, they just want robots, meanwhile the reason I enjoy robots is when they are used as a way to look into the philosophy of being human.

I like robots that are made to look human and interact with human for the conflict it causes of “how human can you make something that’s not human? Is it worthy of being accepted as a person?” since it brings up a lot of existential and interesting questions. I only tend to like robots that don’t look super human if they’re mechas cause they still have a relationship with humans, the sentience can go either way as even if I do like robo sentience not every mecha story needs it and I oddly prefer the route of “it can’t speak but it’s alive” rather then it talking, because it just feels more eerie then a giant talking robot.

I know to some people if they see this I’m gonna come off boring and like yeah maybe I do cause I know robot designs have more potential when they aren’t bound to human stuff, and I’m not saying anyone who enjoys the other way is bad, but this is just why I realized certain robot media clicks with me and others don’t. (Also my brain makes everything needlessly complicated lol)

[deepseawave]

obsessed w the tags on ur last reblog

Omgg, thank you haha, it was a quality post so I just had to appreciate it in full force 😂❤️

Can‘t believe someone would actually enjoy my yapping :,D

[mycological-mariner]

My mother watched a documentary about the Endurance expedition and she’s already an angry woman but she was just straight up throwing curses and things at the screen

[look-at-the-stars-tonight]

I ran this morning AND wrote some AND made art and I’m so proud of me

[glittertimes]

My problem is that there is a very jaded smart part of me that isn’t surprised when ppl are awful and shitty this part of me fights back whenever I’m hurt.

But there’s also the naive caring part of me that just wants community and connection and I still don’t know how to be both at once so I can stand up for my boundaries but still be caring and understanding.

[seilon]

jesus christ I feel like shit

[acotars]

(I have no idea if this will make sense—sorry I’ve had some wine this evening and so I’m rambling)

I think this is a “popular” opinion but not widespread—people need to understand that there is so much nuance to reading. Obviously there’s the “you can like things I don’t like” and vice versa, but also in HOW people enjoy things. Like take Fourth Wing (I know I know), but while I also agree with a lot of the complaints, I still was just like “that was a fun time, I totally ignored all the sex scenes bc I hate how they were written, but I was vibing the whole time.” And I feel like some people would still respond to my opinion like “okay but it was so horrible how did you even enjoy it at all??? Lame”

Like okay Betty, I love high fantasy as much as you, but sometimes I want something that just fucks, okay?

(and not to say you aren’t allowed to not like things, but there seems to be a fine line between “hey! I didn’t like this but that’s okay” and “I hated this and I CANNOT comprehend why ANYONE could find even an inkling of fun from this + I’m going to subtly implicate that I think people who like this are stupid”) (obviously not for books that are objectively hurtful or offensive)

And of course you can go so many different ways than just that example, but it’s a mix of gate-keeping, prejudice, lack of empathy, and a bit of a superiority complex that makes it so hard for the reading community to really be united.

[mollyrolls]

highlights from my notes app. 30/79 and i couldn’t even finish the last chapter

⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖ AKAASHI KEIJI

undone ⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖

she would do anything for her best friend. including, but not limited to, pretending to be his girlfriend, so he can get the attention of the girl of his dreams, as much as it hurts

PAIRING: akaashi x fem reader

STATUS: complete

TAGS/WARNING: unrequited love, fake dating, angst, pining, friends to lovers, university au, language, alcohol use, warnings may change

MDNI: will contain adult content (marked in chapter)

TAGLIST: complete this form to be added

PREVIEW: real

CHAPTER ONE: evidence

CHAPTER TWO: complications

CHAPTER THREE: close

CHAPTER FOUR: truths

CHAPTER FIVE: plans

CHAPTER SIX: act

-> SEQUEL

[thesillygoosecompany1]

people in Disney music video comment sections piss me off so much

(absurdly long and angry rant in tags lol)

[steviescrystals]

my tags on the post i just reblogged got me thinking so here’s my current stream of consciousness