#this has been such an ass day if pin doesn't cop on and start giving me good pics i'm acc gonna lose the will to live

[jackdaw-kraai]

Hey, Jack? Do you have any advice for dealing with those who do nothing but demand updates for your fics? I'm pretty sure most writers have to deal with this crap, it's just… I have one reasonably popular fic that's been on hiatus for over a year, and it feels like almost every comment I receive is just another demand for an update. I'm starting to regret ever posting that damnable fic in the first place. I don't want to delete it, that would be cruel to the other readers, but I'm already stressed as hell, I already felt guilty for the long hiatus, and these constant demands just kept grinding me down to the point I can't stand to even look at this fic, much less continue writing it. So… any advice?

Oh I have different tactics for different platforms, so I'll give you some tips for all the ones I use and how they synergize. First of, on Ao3, I generally put something in the notes like "writing takes a long time and real life doesn't always cooperate, so be patient. I'm the one actually working on this, so you can deal waiting for me to pour my labor and passion and time into this. Cool? Cool. If you can't be cool, I'll block/mute/freeze you." Then, I put places in the notes where they can find me outside of Ao3 like my tumblr and discord and explain what they can find there, usually this will help redirect. Then, once in a while, I'll answer a comment if I'm feeling like it like "life is still busy, working on this is still fun but very labor intensive in order to make it, ect". If they get pushy, I block them.

On tumblr, if people get pushy about it in the asks, I block them. No question about it, I block them. Once in a while I'll publish one of them with either a compassionate, curt, or snarky explanation depending on my mood, but I don't give all of them the time of day because oh my gods, who has the time once you ask box hits the triple digits?? I also keep a pinned post on my blog with links where you can find my stuff, so people can easily locate it instead of pestering me about it.

On discord I'm most active, so there's a lot of info to find there, but also, there's a lot of friends there who can help intercept anyone asking questions like that and inform them "writing takes time, cool your heels." Having a good moderating structure also helps with this, as well as spoiler channels where you can rant about your progress to people who are willing to be spoilered, or point at to people who aren't down for spoilers but still want info like "them's the rules for the info, if you don't like it, tough tits." I also flat out have a rule amongst the server rules list (mostly stuff like "don't be a bigoted cunt," "don't air your dirty laundry in #general," "if I catch you being a creep to minors, I WILL call the cops on your ass") that says "don't harass the author" and enforce it by having the server closed to anyone who doesn't tick the little box at the top saying "I have read the rules and agree to them." You very quickly get a self-selecting audience that way that knows you won't take their shit.

Key to all of this is to assert yourself and be willing to step on toes to make people back off and give back your personal space. You can't be shy about setting your boundaries, and you don't have to be polite to people crossing them. Even the kindest celebrities often have bodyguards for this reason, and while we may not be celebrities, we can be our own bodyguards enforcing our boundaries. Try giving people a space they can go for information, but information that's given on your terms, not theirs. Pinned posts and A/Ns and the like are excellent for this. And finally, just block people. Literally just block people, even if they're fans. If people make you uncomfortable, remove them from your space, you can literally just do that. You don't owe them access to be able to harass you, and if they can't be polite about this, you can deny them access to you, period.

Fans are a lot of fun, and I love interacting with them! I met some of my best friends as fans first, and they're lovely folks! But you gotta stick to your boundaries in order to keep it fun for everyone, and make sure you state them loud and clear. And if people pretend to not have heard them, you can remind them this isn't a court of law, and even if it was, ignorance of the law is not defense of breaking it. Evict them from the premise without further notice if they won't comply.

[shallowseeker]

AU where Dean is Claire’s t-ball coach.

He doesn’t care too much for her parents—they’re fine. Bit boring, but fine.

One day, Jimmy starts acting like an asshole and Dean doesn't know why, but's it's...very vexing. He doesn't know what crawled up his ass and died, but fuckyouverymuch, Jimmy.

---

There's a pattern to it. Whenever Amelia isn't there, Jimmy becomes a bastard. A whole year goes by, and Dean feels a little swimmy around Jimmy sometimes, but he manages to ignore it. It's wildly inappropriate, for one. Awkward as Hell for two.

---

The next year, he stays with the same group of kids. It's coach-pitch and boy, that's a blast. Claire makes it a personal goal to hit Dean with a line drive, the little shit.

Unfortunately, as the kids get older, the parents get crazier. Usually, it's nothing he can't de-escalate.

Until the day of the disaster.

---

They're playing one of those fancy, over-country teams. You know the kind, completely branded from bag to cleat. Matching shoelaces. Parents with "I <3 my shortstop" tee-shirts.

God.

The trouble starts when Sam's the only umpire available. He does it part-time, and usually he never calls Dean's games.

This is why.

Halfway through the game, one of the opposing parents figures out that Sam's Dean's brother, and it all goes downhill from there.

---

Dean's team scrapes a win, but Dean would happily give it up to avoid the whole fiasco--the accusations of cheating.

It gets worse and worse, until one of the parents is spitting in Dean's face after the game, screaming and cussing and making the worst scene Dean's ever been apart of.

Just as Sam is about the step in, it transforms from a bad scene to national news-in-the-making. SOB pulls a gun, and Dean's older brother instincts kick in, stepping in front of Sam's giant body to shield him.

That's when Jimmy comes flying out of the crowd and like a linebacker pummels the crazy parent to the ground, breaking his hold on the gun. Once he has him down, Jimmy clonks him brutally in the forehead, a Glasgow kiss that knocks him out cold.

Dean doesn't usually need help--he'd been a wrestling champ in high school--but hot damn if his ill-advised attraction to Jimmy hasn't come roaring back to life in an instant.

Claire, too brave and not at all aware of the danger, dances around the felled goon, cheering Jimmy on. "Dad," she shrieks, and Dean can't tell if she's happy or upset, "Cas killed the bad guy, Cas killed the bad guy!"

Something about that is confusing.

Cas?

And Dean does a double take as Jimmy's gentler-looking double steps into view, concerned but relieved. Dean blinks, looks between the Jimmy on the ground and the Jimmy standing just a few feet away.

Amelia says, "The cops are on their way. Jesus, I'm glad Cas was here."

Dean cant' help it. He blurts, "Cas?"

And now it's Jimmy's turn to look perplexed. "You've met my brother. He's been bringing Claire to games for two years."

Cas doesn't move from his deadly pin, but he fixes Dean with a steely, x-ray-vision-kinda-look.

"I--I thought he was you this whole time."

Jimmy and Amelia exchange knowing looks, like this is typical behavior for Cas. Jimmy steps forward to swat his brother on the back of the head. "You didn't introduce yourself?"

Cas shrugs.

The man underneath him groans, apparently coming back to life. Only when the cops arrive does Cas ease his grip on him.

When he stands, Dean tries to introduce himself, awkwardly shoving out a hand with a, "Thanks for that. Guess you're Cas then?"

Cas looks at his hand with deep suspicion before taking it and giving it a firm squeeze that goes right to Dean's toes.

How could Dean have missed it? This guy is nothing like Jimmy. He's not even wearing a wedding band.

[babylooneytoonz]

Its A Sunday!

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Fem! Reader

Written for @writeroutoftime 's 1k challenge. Hope you enjoy reading this, Rita.💛💛

Summary: Based on the prompt, “Would it be alright if I borrowed your sweater? It smells like you.” and how it feels like spending a Sunday with your "Super Soldier Boyfriend".

Warning: tooth rotting fluff

[My Masterlist]

You woke up to the chirping of the birds, your eyes fluttering open, only for you to clench them shut once again. Your hand reached out, grabbing a pillow that had been kicked off to the other end of your bed, right where your feet were, by your boyfriend. Groaning, you pressed your face into the pillow, wondering how it was possible for the super soldier next to you to be in such a deep slumber, even though you had been wiggling around in bed.

Yes, right, it was a Sunday, which meant that you got a lot more time to spend with your Captain, but Steve never missed an early morning run. His alarm would go up at 6 every Sunday. He would kiss you at the back of your head and you would groan in annoyance, your sleep having been disturbed. This was like your little routine for Sunday to begin the day.

Shaking your thoughts away, you pressed your face into the pillow, having rolled on your front now, staying like that for a few seconds until you got frustrated and rolled back again. There was no way you could go back to sleep again.

Just then, a heavy hand came to rest on your waist, until you were pulled from the spot you lay, into the super soldier's arms. You opened your eyes, blinking at him, to see his sleep filled eyes looking at you with a faint smile on his face.

"Good morning, doll," he chuckled, his voice raspy, and low, sending shivers down your spine.

"Mornin," you began, but before you could even wish him a good morning, a massive yawn overtook you, and there you were yawning away with your mouth outstretched, like a baby hippo. Steve couldn't help but chuckle as he propped himself up on his elbow, and peered down at you, his naked, glistening chest peeking out of the blankets the two of you were wrapped in.

"Yeah, laugh at me, Rogers, real nice," you grumbled as you rubbed the remainder of sleep away from your eyes and saw the man leaning over you. Your hand came to rest against the side of his face as your thumb began to gently stroke against his stubble, and he inclined his lips so they were directly above yours, his eyes on you.

"Mhm, just wondering how I landed the most beautiful woman in the world," he rasped, as he was pulled down by you, your fingers buried into his messy locks, and you pulled him towards you, your lips locking with his into a gentle smooch.

"You're such a sap, Steve," you pulled apart, wiggling under the covers until you found your right leg on top of him, as you rolled over and pinned him to the bed, and you positioned yourself flat over him, looking down at him, "I can't help but wonder what it would have been like to date you in the 1940s though."

"Really?" He chuckled, staring up at you, as you grabbed the tip of his nose between your lips and began suckling on it teasingly. "Well, I'd have taken you dancing to jazz music, we would have taken late night strolls in the city, under the stars, I think."

"We could still do those things, Stevie. We don't need the 1940s to do it," you grinned as Steve turned to his side, and you came crashing against the soft mattress, giggling slightly until the two of you were now laying on your sides, admiring each other for a minute or two before Steve pulled the covers off himself and sat up in bed.

Your eyebrow shot up in question and Steve smiled, grabbing your chin with his index and his thumb, raising your face up slightly, "I'll go and make us something nice to eat, doll." He rolled to the side of the bed, his feet pressed against the carpeted flooring of your shared apartment when you grabbed his wrist and tugged on it, pulling yourself up too.

"Stay in bed, Rogers, you practically save the world, and the least I can do is cook us a nice Sunday breakfast," you gave him a pointed stare, a stare that meant that he should be in bed, and he chuckled, falling back in bed, almost nodding when suddenly, his phone began buzzing.

He reached for his phone that was laying on the bedside stand, and his eyes narrowed when he saw Bucky's name flash on the screen.

"Doll, I," he began, and you waved him off and nodded at him as you slid into your slippers and started making your way into the kitchen, scratching your head as you began readying the contents of the breakfast.

You could hear Steve on call with Bucky in the bedroom as you scrambled the eggs in a bowl, and began beating them to froth, when Steve poked his head in to the kitchen with an apologetic expression on his face. He tiptoed into kitchen and fixed himself behind you, pinning you to the counter and sighing into your back.

"Well, who needs saving now?" You sighed back, pretty much aware what the call was about. The truth was you were used to this, you knew what you had signed up for when you decided you wanted to date Captain America. Well, he did come with his baggage, and you had learnt to live with those.

"Buck, well he sort of got into a scuffle with the cops?" Steve drawled apologetically, causing you to chuckle dryly as you flipped the pancake in the air, and caught it in the pan.

"And if I am not wrong," you murmured, letting Steve rest his head against your shoulder, while your hands worked on the breakfast while at the same time, your mouth and your mind were busy with your lover, "Barnes wants you to save his ass once again."

"But it's Sunday, and this is the only day I get to spend time with you, Buck should realize that before getting into messes like these."

You turned the burner off, and turned towards him, so that you were facing him now, and you placed both your hands on his shoulders, your fingers toying with the back of his head, "I know baby, but I still think you should go."

"Really?" His eyebrow perked up as he regarded you carefully, with his blue irises, trying to study you, and figure out if you were just saying it sarcastically, or did you mean every word of it, but your face showed no signs of malice as you smiled at him and nodded.

"Well, to be honest? I sort of wanted you to make a fuss? Would have given me another reason to say no to Buck and sort out his own mess, so I could stay in with you?" He winked, and you laughed in response.

"I guess you picked the wrong woman then, Rogers. I am of an arduous belief in Captain America, and that man has a duty that doesn't give him Sundays off particularly." You chuckled.

"Yeah well that duty is saving Buck's ass," he wiggled his brows, and you couldn't help but contain your giggles. It was always refreshing to hear your grandpa boyfriend use a derogatory language, that you had made him accustomed to.

"I guess I'll go on then, and let you have breakfast in peace, but I'll be back as soon as I can, doll," his hands on your hips, you leaned up to plant a kiss on his lips, and he retaliated, kissing you back gently, before he pulled away.

Turned out, Steve Grant Rogers didn't come back for lunch either, and as you sat, crumpled into a ball in front of your television set, randomly flipping through the channels in an attempt to distract yourself from missing your boyfriend severely, an idea struck your mind.

You pulled out your phone and dialled Steve's number, waiting for him to pick up and just like you had expected, he picked up on the first ring, "hey, doll, sorry. Things are worse than I imagined them to be. I'll be there by dinner?"

You sighed as you fell back against the couch, pulling the comforter over your legs and let out a sigh, receiving a sigh from him on the other end too, "I love you much to be mad at you, Rogers. I'll see you at dinner."

"Bye, doll, I love you too!" Steve was almost pulling the phone off his ear when your voice rang out through it, and it was more like a yell, causing Steve to hurriedly fling it back to his ear again.

"Steve! Wait! Don't disconnect yet. Would you mind if I borrow your sweater? It smells like you."

It was funny how Steve had never thought of this before, and neither had you. The two of you were living together, and the two of you were in love. But never had you borrowed Steve's clothes before, and it had never come up. Steve swallowed thickly, and for some reason, his heart swelled upon hearing your words.

"I can't wait to see you in my sweater, doll. Don't change out of it then, until I am back," he commanded, and you smiled, stretching your legs in front of you as you replied, "Aye Aye, Captain."

[lost-eternity]

Matchup Requests: CLOSED

Match up request for: @ imightsecretlybeadragon

Okie dokie. I match you with...

I love your tag name, hun

I had to ship you with Sherlock himself 

I was originally considering Mycroft but he honestly can't handle spontaneity 

That's more Sherlock's thing

Although the number of hobbies you have tried your hand at, only to drop most of them, tells me that you grow bored easily and hence need things to occupy your time

So does Sherlock. Except his methods of quelling boredom are not nearly as tame as candle making. 

He'll keep you on your toes

I also considered Mary as a potential match but finding information on her online is incredibly scarce, for some reason. RIP

I believe that your ambition, drive, and willingly to throw reason to the wind and embark on thoughtless adventures is the perfect reason why you would mesh so well with Sherlock Holmes. You would totally be willing to jump out of windows or attempt crazy experiments with him instead of judgmentally staring as most would

As much as Sherlock enjoys John's company, he cannot handle people asking him questions all of the time

Either they need to be on the same level as him- or shut up and do as he says until he reveals his thought process in some theatrical way

While you may not be able to under exactly where that man's mind is at, you are definitely smart enough to understand the general gist and decide for yourself whether or not you want to follow through 

Because sometimes Sherlock really needs someone to look him in the eye and say "no". Instead of passively being yanked around like a dog on a leash.

Both of you have a habit of becoming so engrossed in your work that you forfeit biological functions like sleep. Sherlock really appreciates your understanding in regards to this because he knows that you will not disturb him. 

But when he is going on three days without sleeping or eating, your more nurturing side will step in, force him to rest and give that man some damn sustenance.

Which is why I feel like you would work very well with him. You know when to back off and give him the space he needs, but you aren't complaining like him because you also know when the is challenging the limits of what his human body can handle and will step in to make sure he actually takes care of himself

Like, dude. Take a freaking shower, you both look and smell like a writhing sack of horseshit 

Sherlock would probably find your tendency to be loud quite intrusive. He claims that "even your thoughts are loud. I can feel you thinking. Stop that." And promptly kick you out of the room

Try not to be too offended by him

He is like a toddler. He doesn't know any better

But feel free to give him a scalding tongue lashing afterwards

Sherlock would never admit it, but he does genuinely care for you. And it can sometimes be hard to tell. He constantly berates and criticizes you. But only because he is worrying over your well being and gets super mad if you do sometimes that puts your life in danger. Sherlock can't even bear the thought of losing you, and like everything else he doesn't like, he chooses to ignore or "delete" it. So when that fear becomes a reality,  he flips out, masquerading his concern as anger. Because he does not want to appear weak

His criticism comes from a well meaning place. He genuinely wants you to improve and do the best you can in life to become successful, he is just piss poor and phrasing. Instead his critiques come off as purely negative. You may have to remind him of this and he would be quick albeit awkward to correct. 

If you show him a painting:

"No, the lines are all wrong. The focal point should be here, but because you used 45° angles, the focal point ends up down here."

Cue an unamused look from you

"What? Oh... uh. Y-your use of colour palate is... adequate...."

He's trying

~

Knowing Sherlock, you did not really ever "meet"

At least not how most people would

The first time you met, Sherlock had you pinned beneath him on the ground, demanding that you take off your clothes.

But I'm getting ahead of myself. 

Let's start from the beginning 

You were near Hyde park, cloaked in a heavy woolen coat to combat the biting cold of the winter-scape around you

With your hands shoved deep in your pockets in an attempt to warm them, you continued at a brisk pace, wanting to get back to your flat before the scheduled snowfall 

That was when a dude on a motorcycle nearly careened into you. You jumped back and glared over your shoulder, fully prepared to tell him off. Instead, what you saw rendered you speechless

The guy who almost hit you was wearing a... bunny head mask. What the hell?

So distracted by this weirdo on the motorcycle, you did not notice another man in a black trench charging down the way. He actually did hit you from a full sprint.  

The force of the impact knocked the air from your lungs and caused you to fall over, he taking a tumble shorter thereafter 

The man, now having you stretched out beneath him, seemed entirely preoccupied. If he recognised the implications of your situation, he gave no indication to it. 

He spared you a single glance before looking back after the motorcycle bunny guy. 

"I need your jacket, now!" He demanded, not once looking at You

"Excuse me?" You asked.

"Jacket!" He demanded again. "Take it off!"

Were you being robbed?

If you were, this was one weird ass mugger. 

Another man came jogging up, his breath short and strained as she rested his hand on his knees. He looked horrified then apologetic  "Sherlock! Get off her!" 

The rude trench coat fella scrambled to his feet, as if just now realising he had been on top of you. He must be Sherlock.

The second man continued. "I'm sorry about him, we aren't mugging you. We would just like to borrow your jacket for a few minutes."

"Watson, he is getting away!" Sherlock complained

You removed your coat, and handed it over, completely confused. What else were you supposed to do?

The cold air bit your exposed skin, sending goose-flesh across your arms as you shivered from the chill

Sherlock and his big ass coat moved at a dead sprint towards an ice-crusted fountain 

Watson sighed and extended a hand to help you up. He shrugged off his own jacket, offering it to you.

You immediately refused his gesture, despite the sheer cold causing you to shiver. 

Watson frowned slightly at the rejection, his forehead creasing

You watched as this Sherlock character leapt onto the fountain,  nearly losing his footing as she scrambled across. The motorcycle man had almost reached the road, if he got there, he would be lost. 

Sherlock pursued him, jumping over gates and pushing past pedestrians to cut him off on the main trail.

You did not think he would make it, but remarkably, he did. He stood before the motorcycle your jacket extended in front of him

Bunny guy did not hesitate to charge at him, probably planning to run him down

Your breath hitched in your throat as you gazed at the scene. Like a matador facing off against a bull... except Sherlock had no sword. No back up. Just a jacket. How in the world was he going to stop a guy on a motorcycle with only a jacket???

You watched in anticipation, the cold you felt completely forgotten as the motorcycle drew nearer and nearer. 

Sherlock did not once hesitate nor flinch. He remained rooted in spot, his eyes steely with determination 

The bunny suit man got within a single metre of Sherlock.

You thought for sure that you were about to witness a collision. 

You were wrong

Sherlock threw your coat then rolled out of the way.

The coat hit the back wheel as it spun, getting snagged in the shifting gears and mechanisms. 

It wrapped itself around the back wheel, seizing it up and causing the motorcycle to skid out, slipping across the ice before colliding into a nearby tree.

Sherlock was quick to pounce, restraining the bunny suit guy. 

You were absolutely amazed. Both you and Watson seemed to have the same idea as you rushed over. Watson scolding Sherlock for pulling the stunt and you out of concern for your poor coat.

~

It wasn't long before the police arrived. Apparently bunny guy was some sort of expert thief turned murderer known for his iconic bunny suit. The cops have been after him for months and Sherlock had been the one to flush him out and trap him

You were mostly distraught over the loss of your jacket.  It was a good jacket, now completely lost to the motors and gears on the cycle

Watson promised that he would buy you a new one.  He even invited you back to his flat for some tea because he was worried you would catch cold if you walked all the way back to yours

You were going to refuse and just take a cab, then you learnt that Watson and Sherlock were flatmates. 

How could you say no?

You just met some of the most interesting people on the planet, how could anyone say no to tea with them?

Sherlock seemed adamantly against the idea, complaining loudly about Watson "taking home too many strays" because "they ruin my work."

"You should have thought of that before you ruined my favourite jacket." You retorted

They were both taken aback by your wit

Watson appeared rather smug. "Yeah. You could have just used your own."

Sherlock seemed positively offended that anyone would dare suggest such a thing. "Not my coat! The coat is iconic."

Watson just rolled his eyes 

~

Despite getting off on the wrong foot, you and Sherlock hit it off rather nicely 

You were amazed by his observational abilities, but shocked him by understanding how he came to his conclusions before he even explained.

This was when Sherlock began to like you

And Sherlock doesn't like anyone

It kinda baffles John, really

Sherlock, finding you rather entertaining, is fine with you popping in for tea every once in a while. 

He even let you assist on cases

This is where he really began to fall for you

He admires your intellect and thought process, considering it formidable albeit slower than his own

Let's be real, it's Sherlock 

But things kinda start out rough

At first, when Sherlock first realises that he has feelings for you, he "deletes" them

It's scary admitting when you fancy someone

And not just scary. Dangerous. Especially for Sherlock. 

He can't allow himself to be focused on anything except for work

Of course, the more time he spends with you, the more his feelings keep coming back, regardless of how often he deletes them

So he pushes you away

He lashes out

Becomes cold and distant, trying to make you give up

But you won't. You're having the time of your life with him and always comes back. No matter how many times he yells for you to go away. Its infuriating, actually 

There will come a point where Sherlock has to make peace with his own attractions but it will be very difficult for the both of you

You will have to work with him through this

Cause Sherlock is not going to be an easy catch. And an even harder one to keep

But I have faith in you.

I hope you enjoyed dear, let me know what you think :)