#trying to figure out what to tag this as for my own cataloguing purposes but also fearing it showing up in search tags

[agentark]

Jenny Han, To All The Boys I've Loved Before // Brenna Twohy // unknown // Florence + the Machine, "Long & Lost" // J.R.R. Tolkien, The Two Towers // Aelsa Trevelyan, The Fernweh Saga, Book 1 // Euripides, Herakles // unknown // k.tolnoe // Taylor Swift, "Death By A Thousand Cuts" // Haruki Murakami, Norwegian Wood

will you remember me when I'm gone? if we never meet again? if we can't? I'll remember you. I hope I'll see you again.

[boltwrites]

Ummmm any tips on how to start writing fanfics? I have ideas but I am worried nobody will like my ocs or my reader inserts.

ofc anon! i’ve actually been meaning to write a post directed towards people looking to start writing for the first time or for people who want to grow a blog similar to mine, so here are some tips! also i answered an ask about my writing process here if that interests you as well!

writing ocs

i’ve found that one of the most important parts of writing an oc is figuring out what their purpose is in the story. do you want to use the oc to give a character a partner? do you want to use them to flesh out a concept in canon that wasn’t talk about much? think about why you’re writing the oc, and build around that!

figure out your point of view. for example: are you going to ONLY follow the oc? is the oc the center of the story? or is the oc just a cog in a larger story? this will help you figure out how to navigate your oc story. for example, i initially started writing bittw in third person, with a more detached narrative surrounding Taro. then, i realized that since she interacts so much with the main characters, and since we already KNOW the krew’s story, that it would be more interesting to move into first person and see the story through Taro’s eyes

its ok if your oc is similar to some canon characters (because they have to have SOME similarities) but not exactly the same. for example, i knew that Taro can be pretty similar to Korra sometimes, so i made sure to distinguish her by making her a little bit more intense, and by giving her a backstory that was wildly different than Korra’s own backstory

if you can, give your character a life outside of the main story. what does your character do in their free time? do they have a job? where do they live? what are their relatives like? 

give your oc powers relative to the universe they’ll be interacting in, or the story they’re a part of. for example, let’s say you’re writing for lok. if your story is just a romance, then it doesn’t matter if your oc is a good fighter or not, because your story is focused solely around a romantic plot. however, if your story extends beyond that and you want your oc to go on adventures with the krew, it would make more sense for your oc to be a powerful bender, a weapons specialist, or an inventor (like Varrick or Asami). however, creating a character who is basically an additional Avatar wouldn’t be advised, because then your character would be overpowered. match your character to your universe and genre - they can be powerful and special, so long as they are of a similar caliber as the main cast

writing x reader

the most important thing about writing x reader is not actually how you characterize reader, but how you characterize whatever character you are writing for

it’s always a good idea to come up with some general headcanons and post those before you jump into writing your x reader fanfics. re-watch or reread whatever it is that you’re going to be writing for (at least a couple episodes or chapters) in order to get a feel for the character, and then writing down your headcanons. figure out their personality - i find that people value a consistent character, so having a list of the character’s personality traits in romantic situations can help out a lot if you get stuck

reader, however, is a character you CAN change to suit your needs. don’t be afraid to switch up reader’s personality if the prompt calls for it. i’ve written really shy, quiet reader, and then turned around and written a very dominant, loud, and outgoing reader right after. dont be afraid to give your reader some personality, because you can just as easily write reader as the opposite for the next request

know your limits. if you won’t write nsfw, or you won’t write for a certain popular character, let your followers know beforehand. this is about you having fun, and if certain topics make you nervous or uncomfortable, don’t be afraid to say no

running a blog

if you want to run a blog similar to this one, i have some tips for that too!

USE READ MORES!!!! if you have the bulk of your story under a cut, it’s more likely to be reblogged (aka spread beyond just the tag you posted it under). put a summary or maybe the first paragraph above the cut, but put the rest of it under a read more. not only does this make it easier to scroll through your own blog, but it means that the content under the read more can be edited, even after it has been reblogged! that means if you made an embarrassing type, that it will be fixed even after it has already been reblogged!!

post in tags, and make sure your work shows up in the tags, and stays there! your work is guaranteed to show up in the first 5 tags on your post, so make it count. i’ve found that by using only five tags, your work shows up in the tags quicker, and stays there longer. adding a link within your post can cause a delay in it showing up in the tags, and in some cases will prevent it from reaching the tags altogether. being in the tags is important as a young blog, because it’s how you’ll get your work out to people who want to see it!

use the correct tags. while crossposting is ok in some instances (such as promoing an oc x character in the reader x character tag, or promoing closely associated characters in each other’s tags) flooding tags with unrelated content is seen as rude and may turn some people away. especially once you gain a decent following, try not to crosspost in unrelated tags as to not bog down content that is actually related to that character

keep a clean blog. a masterlist is a great idea, as if you have a pinned masterlist, new followers can easily go back through your catalogue of works and find something they enjoy

set up an info, rules, or faq page. even if you don’t have many rules, some people are nervous that they are going to request something you’re uncomfortable with writing. by having a rules page with a list of what you will and will not write, as well as how you will complete requests (ie: i complete headcanons quicker than fics, i usually write gender neutral reader) it can make your followers more at ease that their request won’t bother you

have fun! not all fandoms are big or active. sometimes you’re just going to be writing for yourself. before this blog, i wrote for a ship that has a grand total of maybe 50 fics in its ao3 tag. i didn’t get much interaction or support. sometimes you won’t get the support you expect, but that’s ok, so long as you’re writing for yourself and you’re enjoying what you do. 

[tenroseforeverandever]

Optimal Distance

Characters: Tentoo; Rose Tyler; Tentoo x Rose

Tags: lemons; lemons on video chat; mutual self-applied lemons; basically loads of lemons!; and the usual fluff, hurt/comfort, humour stuff

Summary: Rose has been feeling sad, lonely, and a little bit envious, left to endure the dreary London winter, while the Doctor has been posted on assignment in Rio, setting up a new Torchwood branch. But a comment the Doctor makes about a strangely bare desk in his otherwise cluttered study inspires Rose to find a way to bring them closer together, even though they are half a world apart.

Notes: This fic is one of many that had been lingering, stagnating in my collection of unfinished fics, just waiting for inspiration to strike.

Many thanks as always to my wonderful betas, @rose--nebula and mrsbertucci. You are absolutely brilliant, and I have no idea what I would do without you. And thanks to @aintfraidanoghosts who is always a voice of inspiration and encouragement (especially if she hears lemons on the menu!) I love you all!

I made quite a few tweaks and edits since they saw it, so as always, any mistakes are mine.I hope you like it!

Also read on AO3 and Teaspoon

OPTIMAL DISTANCE

“Done! You should be getting it any second now!” Rose crowed into her mobile with a rather disproportionate sense of triumph. All she had accomplished was to send the Doctor an email, albeit one with a very important file attached; a file she’d had to navigate his shambolic cataloguing system to find, and that only after she’d excavated his laptop from beneath heaps of books, papers, and crumpled sticky notes on the floor beside his desk.

“Got it!” he cheered. “You are brilliant, you are! A real lifesaver, Rose Tyler! See? My lucky pants, near or far. It’s a good thing you couldn’t come with me, after all. Where would I be now, eh? Without you holding down the fort?”

“Yeah, right,” Rose muttered with a sulky huff, her victorious mood evaporating as she plopped down in the desk chair. She fought against the prickle of tears. She refused to cry about it anymore. It was her own fault she was restricted to paper-pushing for another six weeks. To be specific, she was tasked with reviewing and classifying field reports, a chore that only served to rub in the fact that she wasn’t out in the field, herself, defending the Earth from both alien and earth-born threats. Instead she had to read about it second-hand.

She knew she deserved every bit of punishment she’d received, from her brutal dressing-down from Pete and her subsequent demotion, to her month-long stint inventorying the Small Parts Department (literally the “nuts and bolts” of Torchwood, and ten times as dull as it sounded.) She had been careless and impulsive on a mission, showing off for the sake of a dare, and had nearly gotten herself killed.

The worst part had been the look on the Doctor’s face as he’d rushed into the Torchwood infirmary, not knowing what her condition was, thinking he might have lost her. The guilt she’d felt over worrying him would have been enough (a kazillion times over) to curb any future reckless, thoughtless acts. After everything they had been through, with only a single, human lifetime each, pledged to be spent together, she had nearly thrown it all away in one rash moment.

As it was, she had been lucky to have come away with only deep laser burns to her left shoulder.

She and the Doctor had clung to each other all that night, desperately making love until they were too exhausted to move.

That had been weeks ago now, and Rose was chafing at her restrictions, especially since Pete seemed to be intentionally sending the Doctor to conferences in the most wonderful, exotic locations around the world, places Rose was dying to explore with him. But Pete resolutely refused to allow her to join him.

On this current trip, the Doctor was helping establish a new Torchwood base in Rio de Janeiro, addressing the fledgling team on the importance of employing diplomacy and mediation in First Contact situations. Rio, for God’s sake! And here she was, stuck in the middle of the damp, chilly London winter. She huffed again over the phone.

“Would it help if I said I wasn’t having fun?” the Doctor asked over the upbeat sounds of Samba and boisterous voices in the background. She could just picture the scantily clad, feather-adorned (female) dancers.

“Yes…” Rose picked at the worn piping on the leather arm of the desk chair.

“Oh…”

“Sure doesn’t sound like anyone’s ready to listen to your First Contact presentation. Don’t know what the rush was…”

“Weeell, lunch is almost over, and we’ll be heading right back in. Then, I’ll be cracking the whip! But, blimey, the Brazilians know how to party!  As you can probably hear, they’d arranged for some entertainment over lunch: live band, dancers, the lot! Didn’t want to seem churlish.”

She’d been right about the dancers, then… “Don’t worry, Doctor. I’m just feelin’ sorry for myself. I should be gettin’ to bed, yeah. Loads of field reports to review, tomorrow. You have fun.”

“Right… weeell…” Rose could picture him scrubbing the back of his head with his right hand. “Thanks again. And for the record, I do wish you were here, love. It’s just not the same without you.”

“It’s a bit lonely here too.” She looked around his study, filled with reminders of his presence: it was cluttered with books and papers; an assortment of swivel-chairs, beanbags, and exercise balls; and seemingly arbitrary writing surfaces at various heights and orientations. The traditional desk, where she was currently sat, was essentially an afterthought, a horizontal surface suitable for a computer or a place to deposit bits and bobs, books, and papers. Except it was completely clear of clutter and serving no purpose. It was a beautiful piece of furniture, but she couldn’t imagine the Doctor ever using a desk like that.

“We should redecorate your study when you get home, Doctor,” she mused.

“What? Why?”

“Well, for one, this desk is taking up a lot of valuable space. We really should get rid of it. It’s nice. I bet we could sell–”

“No!” he cut her off. “I love that desk!” There was an overtone of panic in his voice.

“But you don’t use it for… well… for anything.”

“I’d rather hoped to use it someday… erm…” His voice trailed off, but quickly returned with his classic exuberance. “It’s nice and sturdy, Rose, and just the right height.”

“What the hell for? The right height for what?” Honestly, she was afraid to ask, but it was just lovely to talk to him and listen to him prattle on about nonsensical things. She missed this when he was abroad.

“Weeeell…” he stage-whispered into the phone, enthusiastic, but clearly not wanting anyone else to hear, “the height is exactly the optimal distance to take advantage of the length of your legs…”

“Wha? My legs…?”

“Blimey, Rose! This is not a good time. I’m not able to control this stupid body the way I… erm… weeell…” His tone became clipped, irritable. “I need to be focussed for this presentation.”

“Oh, never mind.” Though Rose’s curiosity had been piqued by his cryptic comments and the urgency in his voice, she knew he was on a tight schedule. “You better go give that presentation. Go on, then. Love you. Talk to you tomorrow.”

“Love you, too.”

It was only once she was in her bed, half asleep, with her thoughts restless and drifting, that she realized exactly what the Doctor wanted that desk for… She was suddenly wide awake, the whispers of a plan forming in her mind.

 --ooOoo--

Rose had spent the better part of the night ordering the things she needed to set her plan in motion. The online shop guaranteed next-day delivery and she hoped everything would be there when she arrived home from work. If she managed to slip away for the afternoon (without Pete finding out) as she’d planned, she would be able to message the Doctor just before his lunch… perfect!

She was relieved to have been able to escape the confines of her office with no one noticing, except Donna, the administrative assistant who, being every bit as brilliant as her Prime Universe counterpart, noticed everything. But she had just winked at Rose and signalled with a swipe of her thumb and pointer finger that her lips were sealed.

Rose’s excitement grew when she arrived home to find several large packages waiting for her in the hallway by the door of her flat, kindly left there by the landlady. Rose beamed, her heart pounding as she bustled into the flat, hurrying to get everything set in motion before she chickened out. She had never done anything quite as bold as this before – at least in terms of trying to seduce someone – and she rather hoped the Doctor would be… receptive. Considering he had seemingly procured the desk for a very specific (erotic) purpose, she figured he would be.

An hour later, she was turning up the heating against the chill of the wintery air. Her new outfit was not exactly intended to keep her warm. To be honest, she didn’t think she’d ever worn anything so barely-there (and glittery) before. She flushed, looking at herself in the mirror. It was a bit generous calling it an outfit at all. It was really just strategically placed jewelry.

It was a Samba ensemble, made of thin strips of pink, yellow, and clear crystals. The bra was a halter design, with clusters of gems dripping in simple floral patterns from her throat to just above her breasts. A single, large sparkling clear crystal shone between her breasts, supporting a band of smaller clear crystals that curved below them. Her nipples were (only just) covered with bright pink and yellow crystal flowers. She turned around to look at herself from the back. Her bum was essentially bare, the lower part of her outfit, a thong, impossibly skimpier than the bra and crafted of more of the glittery crystals. Matching wrist and shin cuffs adorned her limbs. Not for the first time that afternoon, she thanked the stars for her Torchwood training and active lifestyle for keeping her fit and trim.

After applying her most alluring make-up, she was ready for the final piece of the puzzle. With shaking hands, she positioned the headdress over her hair. It was heavy, heavier than she’d expected, encrusted with crystals over her forehead and in a band around her head. A pink and yellow fountain of ridiculous, great, feathery plumes erupted from the top.

Rose laughed at her image in the mirror. Ridiculous didn’t begin to cover it: it was completely daft. But the Doctor would love it… or so she hoped.

She made her way to his study where she had set up cameras to take photos of herself using a remote control. Her first pose had her facing the camera, one stilettoed foot hitched up on the desk, and her opposite hand touching her sex through the thin fabric of her bejewelled knickers. She made a point of allowing her tongue to poke out at the corner of her smile. That always drove the Doctor mental.

For her next pose she leaned over the desk, her bare bum inviting the Doctor to take her from behind, as she looked suggestively over her shoulder at the camera. She elected to forgo the third pose she had planned. She’d had to stop her headdress from toppling off several times during the second pose and was feeling rather hot and bothered… and not in a sexy way.

Regardless of the headdress mishaps, she was able to select an image she liked from both sets of photos and upload them to her mobile.

So, you like Samba, do ya? she texted the Doctor, along with the two photos. Meet me for lunch… video chat. I’ll show you my moves.  

If she’d worked out the timing right, he should be receiving the messages about ten minutes before he usually stopped for lunch. She intended to make sure there would only ever be one Samba dancer in his future. Her.

She giggled nervously. She really hoped he would take the bait.

She didn’t have to wait long. Her phone vibrated on the desk. She laughed at the Doctor’s message: Blimey! Don’t move! I’ll be there in five minutes. Meeting adjourned!

He’d taken the bait all right – hook, line, and sinker!

Now for the really challenging part: video phone sex. She’d never done anything like that before. She hoped she could pull it off.

 Rose scrambled to set up her mobile on the apparatus she’d purchased, just for this purpose, at the same time as she’d bought her Samba costume. She took a few quick test shots of herself, perched on the edge of the desk with her leg hitched up the way it had been for the first of the photos she had sent the Doctor a few minutes earlier. It took a few rushed and panicked adjustments, but she eventually got the angles just right to ensure the Doctor would get an eyeful!

She was just situating herself on the desk with her leg up again when her phone pinged with the Doctor’s incoming call on video chat. Her tummy was in knots with equal parts anticipation and mortification. Her fingers shaking, she depressed the button on the remote control she’d programmed to her phone and accepted his call.

The Doctor’s eager, bewildered face filled the entire screen, his eyebrows rising into his hairline at the image before him. “Fuuuuuuck…”

He was swearing, a sure sign she’d gotten his attention in the best possible way. There was only one time he ever swore (well, mostly) and that was during sex. Rose smirked as he reflexively licked his lips, boosting her confidence even more. Her voice still trembled, though. “Like what you see, Doctor?”

His hand ruffled his hair. (Rose was jealous of that hand.) “Weeell, I mean… yes! Of course, I do! Blimey! What’s not to love?” Two hands ran through his hair this time.

“B-better… better than the Samba dancers from lunchtime yesterday?” Rose pressed her lips together, and dropped her leg from it’s provocative pose, and she slid off the desk, suddenly uncertain again and feeling vulnerable, both craving and dreading his response.

The dazed shock on his face softened, full of sincerity and love. “The only person I’ll ever want to dance with, Rose Tyler, is you.”

“I feel so… stupid… doing this.”

“NO! No, no, no, no! This is perfect. Brilliant!”

“I don’t know what I’m doin’…”

For several anxious moments, they watched each other in silence. Then, suddenly, the Doctor spoke, his voice husky and low: “Oh, Rose, I wish I could touch you. I wish I could lean you over that desk, take you from behind, and fuck you senseless.”

Rose released a tense breath. He seemed to be taking the lead, putting that unstoppable gob of his to good use.

“But first, first I’d love to have you like this, facing me. I’d spread your legs and–”

“Like this?” Now that she was relaxing, Rose found herself quite eager to play her part. Holding her headdress in place, she hopped up on the edge of the desk again, leaning back on her hands, her legs splayed.

“Yes, just like that! Beautiful! You’re fucking gorgeous!”

Rose bit her lip, her breath hitching as a flood of warmth pooled low in her abdomen. Blimey, she loved when he talked dirty.

“I’d kneel down before you, goddess that you are, and pull aside those skimpy knickers and bury my face between your thighs.”

“Like this?” she repeated, drawing the soaking strip of fabric to one side, exposing her dripping core to the Doctor.

“Oh, you’re so wet, Rose. I just want to taste you.”

“Guuuuuuuhhh… yeah! Love your mouth on me.”  

“Oh, yes! I’d dip my tongue inside you, savour the taste of you (you taste so good, Rose!), and lick you all the way up to your clit. Fuck, you’re perfect,” he blurted as Rose used her finger to simulate the actions he described.

She sighed at the sensation, closing her eyes, wishing it was his tongue lapping along her aching slit, twirling around her clit.

“Oh Rose, my Rose… I’d stroke that lovely clit of yours with my tongue, up and around, up and around…”

Rose groaned out her pleasure, her fingers dancing over her damp sex. “God, Doctor, I love it when you fuck me with your tongue. Please,” she begged, looking him in the eyes, “I want to see you. I want to touch you too. I want my hands on your gorgeous, thick cock.”

“Fuuuuck, Rose! Wait! Just give me a moment.” His face disappeared from the phone. “Keep going!” his voice called from the background. “I’m still here, licking you, sucking you.” There was a loud clattering noise, and the image on the screen spun around. And then Doctor appeared again, from further away wearing only an oxford. His cock, long and hard, bobbed up against the fabric, leaving a wet stain on the front of the shirt. “There. I’ve propped my mobile up. Can you see me, love?”

“Yeah. ‘S good. So good!”

“Are you still touching yourself?”

“Yeah.” Rose’s eyes rolled back as she pressed down on her clit.

“So I see,” he moaned. “Oh, love…”

“I want you inside me, Doctor. I want to feel you fill me.”

Rose watched with a hooded gaze as he wrapped his hand around his cock. “Oh, I want that too. I want to feel you so hot and tight around me. Nothing feels better than that.” His hand stroked down, then up, with a twist at the top. “You’re so soft and wet…” down again, “and so fucking…” up and twist, “tight!”

At the same time, Rose plunged two fingers inside herself, finding that oh-so sensitive sweet spot, as she continued to work her clit with her thumb. She moved her fingers in and out, matching the rhythm of his stroking hand, the jewels around her breasts chafing her nipples with delicious friction as she moved. She added a third finger, stretching herself wide. “Oh, you’re so thick and hard… I love how you fill me. You feel so good!”

“Fuck, Rose… so do you. You look so fucking sexy.” His hand began to stroke faster. Rose watched, mesmerized, as the dark, throbbing tip of his cock disappeared and reappeared from the circle of his fist. “Are you getting close?” His voice was tight, strained.

Rose continued to work herself, thighs trembling, slick, wet sounds accompanying her lusty groans. “So close…” she whimpered, feeling the familiar heat burning in her core, the pressure building. Her head lolled back… and suddenly she yelped as her headdress tumbled to the floor behind the desk. “Oh no! No!” Her hand stopped moving as despair welled up inside her.

“Rose! Don’t stop. Keep going.”

She wailed, “It’s no use.”

“You’re so beautiful, my precious girl. Oh, let me touch you more. Let me feel how warm and wet you are… I want to fuck you forever and never stop.”

Rose watched him on the small screen of her phone looking so wonderfully earnest, his cock in his hand, still hard, glistening with pre-come. He was bloody hot, and he was hers. The shock of losing her headdress was forgotten in a fresh rush of desire, and another flood of arousal, warm and slick, coated her fingers. “Touch me, Doctor,” she breathed, her thumb renewing its caresses over her clit.

“Oh, yes love… I want to run my fingers over your body; run my hands up your thighs and deep inside you. I love the sounds you make when I stroke you…”

“Please,” she whimpered, arching into the pressure of her thumb on her responsive skin.

“Let me fill you again…”

“Yes!” She watched, in awe, as his hand slowly resumed its motions – up, down, twist – over his long, hard member, and her fingers began their pumping motions again, curling and rubbing against her sweet spot rebuilding her sense of urgency with every stroke.

They were soon lost in their passion, both keening and groaning in a haze of lust and need. The fire within Rose burned hot again, deep in her sex, as she rolled her body over her fingers. The Doctor’s hand increased its speed once more. He was getting close, she could tell, he looked so wonderful and dishevelled, and his cock pulsed with every stroke of his hand. “Doctor!” she cried out. “I’m… I’m… gonna…”

“Hnnnngghhh…” he groaned. “Come for me. Let me see you come!”

Rose’s body vibrated with the need for release, her hand frantically pumping, her thumb pressing down, circling her clit, the heat and pressure building within her… and then, the Doctor shouted. Mesmerized, she watched as his seed spurted in ribbons from him, coating the front of his shirt, drizzling over his hand. The look of ecstasy on his face was enough to bring her over too. Her sex throbbed, grasping around her pumping fingers as she arched off the desk, the burning pressure in her core suddenly exploding outward, engulfing her.

 --ooOoo--

“Well, I need to get out of this ridiculous get-up,” Rose chuckled, pushing herself up to a sitting position. She had made her way back to the bedroom and lain down on the bed, while the Doctor lay on the bed in his hotel room. They had stayed that way for many wonderful minutes, gazing into each other’s eyes and talking quietly as they came down from the high of their orgasms.

The Doctor pouted. “And I suppose I need to get back to my meeting. They’ll all have finished their lunches.”

“Oh my God! You didn’t get to eat! Sorry. I guess I should have timed this better…”

“What? NO! This was perfect! A brilliant surprise. I feel perfectly satisfied.” He winked and flashed her an impudent grin. “I just can’t wait to take you over that desk in person, and peel that ‘ridiculous get-up’ off you, myself!”

“How much longer do you think you’re going to be there?” Rose bit her lip, clutching her mobile and regarding the Doctor’s image with imploring eyes. Training new teams of Torchwood personnel and operatives could be a time-consuming business and was an open-ended job. She and the Doctor could potentially be separated for several more weeks or…

“Just a few more days.”

“Really? You’re not jus’ sayin’ that?”

“Rose, (mostly) Time Lord here! If there’s one thing I know about, it’s time. Have you ever known me to misjudge…?”

Rose gave him a pointed look.

“Nah, don’t answer that. But honestly, love, we’ve only just started getting this lot familiarized with all the tech, today, but they seem to be a quick study, and a few of their key people will be returning to London with us for a tour and more in-depth, hands-on experience. Then Pete’s going to be relocating some of our more capable people to Rio for a few months to get things up and running properly. So, at most, another week.”

“A week?”

“At most… I promise. Now, as much as I would prefer to spend the day here with you, I have to act the responsible adult (complete rubbish, that!) and get back to my meeting. I’ll see you later, love.”

“Not if I see you first.” She blew him a kiss and offered him a little wave of her fingers before disconnecting their call.

 --ooOoo--

Five days later, she stood, poised sexily (she hoped) in the doorway of the Doctor’s study, wearing the Samba outfit, minus the ridiculous headdress (it would just get in the way), and watching as the Doctor pushed his way through the door of their flat. Her heart thrummed at the sight of him.

“Honey, I’m home,” he called out cheekily, making her laugh out loud.

“Right here… erm… Sugarbear,” she droned, her voice as sultry as she could make it through her giggles.

“Sugarbear? Really, Rose,” the Doctor closed the door behind him, “of all the names you could…” As he turned and took a step into the flat, his gaze locked onto her, eyes darkening as they roved over her bejewelled body. “Blimey… now this, this is a proper welcome home!” He dropped his bags and coat, leaving them behind, forgotten, as he strode toward her across the room, loosening his belt along the way.

Rose shuddered at the sight. Bloody hell, he was fucking gorgeous. And he was here. Home. With her. Her Doctor.

“You. Inside. Now,” he commanded, his hands settling over the bare skin of her waist, guiding her backwards into his study with firm pressure. Rose’s core ached in anticipation, a yearning heat coursing through her. His lips crashed against hers as they staggered further into the room, the kiss equal parts demanding and desperate, and Rose was sure she had never felt so desired, so loved.

When her bum hit the desk, she gasped, and suddenly, all the emotion she had been suppressing over the last few months surged to the surface: guilt and remorse, loneliness and jealousy, all whirling together in a maelstrom of unfettered passion, love, and vulnerability brought on by the Doctor’s assertive touch. The tears she had been holding back gushed over her cheeks.

“Rose? Love?” The Doctor broke the kiss, looking down at her with concerned eyes. “What’s wrong? Is this not all right? Was I too… weeell, enthusiastic?”

“No, oh my God, no,” she wept. “It’s… it’s perfect… Better than. I jus’… I jus’… I missed you… I didn’t realize jus’ how much…”.

In one swift movement, he swept his hands behind her legs and lifted her to perch on the edge of the desk. Then, spreading her thighs, he stepped between them and tipped her chin up for another marvelous snog, still passionate, but this time it was a sweet and tender, unhurried sort of passion. Rose melted into him, wrapping her arms around his neck, drawing him against her body and breathing in the comfort of his scent. They eventually drew away from the kiss with gentle pecks and nibbles.

They pressed their foreheads together, and panting softly, Rose spoke into the space between them, “Sorry, I’ve gone and ruined all this,” she gestured to the desk.

“Nah, don’t be silly.” He dabbed the tears from her cheeks with the pads of his thumbs. “Besides, I have a bit of news too. Might as well get it over with.” He sighed dramatically and pulled slightly away from her to fish in his jacket pocket. He pulled out an official-looking Torchwood envelope that he tossed down on the desk beside her.

“W’at’s this?”

“My new marching orders, I’m afraid. I leave in two days.”

“Two days,” she sobbed. “But you jus’ got home and–”.

Taking a deep steadying breath, she dragged a hand through her hair, pulling it back from her face. “God, I sound so needy and selfish… but I just missed you.”

“And I suppose, the fact that I was in Rio,” he smirked at her, his left eyebrow arched, “had nothing to do with it?”

“Oh, that just made me miss you even more, but I admit, I was a bit… envious.” She chuckled, leaning back to look him in the eye. “But you know that stuff doesn’t really matter, yeah, all the travelling? Never did. Just that we’re together. That’s what’s important.”

“Oh, I know,” he reassured her with a kiss on the forehead. “And you know I feel the same... don’t you?”

She nodded, placing her palm over his single, human heart. “Yeah, ‘course I do.” 

“And that’s why, Rose Tyler,” his deadpan expression transformed into a brilliant smile, “I’m happy to announce that your assignment is in that envelope too. This time, you’re coming with me.” He beamed at her, waggling his eyebrows and looking very pleased with himself.

She gawped. “But… wait. What?”

“That is, if you think you can be ready to go on such short notice.”

“You wanker!” She swatted his shoulder. “Of course, I’ll be ready!”

He giggled. “But, really, I mean… if it’s too much trouble, I could always just go back to Rio on my own, I suppose.”

There was a long silence as Rose processed what he had said. When she finally found her voice, the words tumbled from her mouth: “Shut up! No way! Rio? RIO?”

“Yu-p!” He grinned. “We’re the experts Pete’s going to send over for a couple of months to make sure everything’s up and running properly. He said he only wants to send the best, and weeeell… I mean look at us. The choice is obvious.”

“I don’t believe it. There must be a catch.”

“No-pe!” He popped his “p” again. “He wants to make sure the Brazilians get everything exactly right. And the best part is, we’ll be there for Carnival. It’s just a few weeks off.”

“What? Carnival? Really?”

“Yes-siree, Rose Tyler! You can even wear this outfit again, in an official capacity this time, of course, complete with headdress. And ooooh, we’ll bring the baby TARDIS along, too. She’ll love a change of scenery!”

“I still don’t believe Pete would just… Nah, you must ‘ave said somethin’ to ‘im, yeah? Not that I’m complainin’. It’s just he’s been so… lecture-y lately.” She rolled her eyes. “He’s been a right misery. And now this sudden change of heart…?”

“Weeell, I admit,” he pulled on his right ear, “I was all ready to go in today, guns-a-blazing, to try to convince him that enough was enough, but believe it or not, he had already made up his mind. He gave me the news during my debriefing this afternoon. By the way, you’re to meet with him tomorrow–”

“Urrrghh, that’ll be fun…”

“–to go over… erm some… stipulations, but essentially, it’s all set. Said he thought your diplomatic skills would be hugely beneficial over there. Personally,” he flashed her a cheeky grin, “I think he was just getting sick of your constant moaning.”

“Oi, Mister!” She feigned offence. “Is that so? Watch out! I’ll give you constant moaning!” She grabbed his tie and dragged him toward her for another impassioned kiss, then reached between them to fondle him through the fabric of his trousers. As she sucked and nibbled along his jawline, tracing her fingers up and down his growing length, a strangled sound tore from his throat.

She smirked. “Now, there’s the moaning…”

“Stop!” He grabbed her hand, his eyes blazing into hers, and she quivered in response, the hot rush of renewed arousal pooling between her legs. “No more teasing. Brilliant as the video-chat sex was, I’ve had enough of foreplay and imagining over the last few days to last me a lifetime. I am going to take you right here, right now, against this desk, and fuck you so hard you see stars.” He scrabbled at his trousers and boxers, pushing them down over his slim hips. Looking utterly debauched, with his suit jacket, oxford, and tie dishevelled but still in place, he took his thick, throbbing member in hand and gave it a few hard pumps. “You ready?”

“Am I ready? Fuck! I’ve been ready for days. Could hardly think of anything else.” She licked her lips as she took in the sight of his impressive length. “My fingers are no substitute for that.”

With an impatient growl, he grabbed her by the waist and pulled her off the desk. Then he spun her around and pressed in behind her, rutting against her bum. “This all right?”

“God, yes!” she sputtered, the ache of desire burgeoning inside her as he encouraged her to lean forward over the desk, applying a steady pressure to her back, until her breasts pressed against the surface, making the jewels of her outfit rasp over her taught nipples.

With a nudge from his foot, he prompted her to spread her legs, opening her to him. “Oh, yes,” he groaned, “the optimal distance, indeed!” Rose shuddered as his slender finger stroked over the sodden strip of fabric covering her sex and she arched into the contact with wanton abandon.

No further invitation required, he yanked the fabric aside and plunged into her welcoming depths.

She saw not only the stars he’d promised: entire constellations burst before her eyes.

[fictionshewrote]

11/11/11 Tag Game

I was tagged by @wordlegacy for this one. Thanks bug 💜

1. What scenes are the worst to write?

Oof, filler scenes. Well, I dunno if you’d call it filler, because of course it’s necessary, but it’s those scenes that you have to write to get from one Really Juicy Scene to the next Really Juicy Scene. I’m not good at writing the introspective, quiet moments of reflection that characters need, so these parts are very frustrating (but of course necessary).

2. What can you say is a thing you love most about your writing?

My brevity. This is really a double-edged sword, because I can usually keep things short, but I often come back to find it’s because I’ve neglected to add in very necessary description and exposition. But I like that I can usually cut to the quick with a handful of words. I feel like it gives those words more weight and power when I use them sparingly.

3. What is writing advice that you take to heart?

“You can’t edit a blank page.” Jodi Picoult said this and my entire world tilted on its axis. I’m a big perfectionist. My mom recently told me I nearly failed first grade because I refused to turn in any work unless I knew I’d get a 100 on it. I’m not all that different as an adult, but this quote sort of woke me up to realizing “perfection” isn’t instant.

4. How do you keep yourself from quitting writing altogether?

I have quit before. I didn’t miss it too much most of the time, but I also felt a bit stunted. Like I was living in a house where half the rooms were locked and boarded up. So now when I stop writing, I think of that feeling, and I think of holding a book with my name on it, a book with a barcode and a dedication to my family. I think of how that’ll feel, and I keep going.

5. What is the strangest thing you searched up on the internet for writing purposes?

Lots of Google Maps’ street view happens, but other than that...I did spend one entire afternoon researching modern torture techniques and scrolling through forums on gunshot wounds, but that’s standard writer fare honestly.

6. Not a question, but shoutout a writeblr (or multiple) that you think needs to hear that they are awesome and doing a great job (by the way everyone, you all are awesome and doing a great job. Keep it up).

Of course I’m going to holler about @maybeillwriteit and her fabulous WIP starring a pirate and an assassin who fall in love. I would like to also take the opportunity to holler about every single mutual I have and every single person in my inbox, because I love you all and your WIPs spark joy.

7. Your OCs are trapped on a deserted island, what would they be doing?

Riza: looking for the rum muttering irritably and gathering coconuts to eat

Kas: cataloguing the species of ocean life in the shallows to try and figure out where they are

Nathan: lying spread-eagle on the sand moaning, “We’re all gonna die”

Alise: telling Nathan to shut up while she tries to fix their boat/plane/whatever

Vivian: making wood piles to burn for smoke signals and generally saving all of their asses

8. What is your biggest inspiration for your WIPs? (could be a book, other forms of media, your own experiences etc.)

Definitely my own experiences, but also just...people. People I see on the news or in movies or on social media. People with all of these experiences that deserve more attention than they get.

9. A habit you have when it comes to writing?

Frequent breaks lol. And frequent checking of the word count tracker.

10. A fact about your world and/or characters?

The Heist is set in summer 2020, in the midst of the election cycle and huge protests/riots/marches across the country.

11. If your WIP/s got turned into a movie or series, what would be the quote on the promotional poster or trailer?

Oooh, this is a good one. I honestly have no idea. Probably something about togetherness or the universality of love/friendship or something along those lines. But I’m TERRIBLE at blurbs.

Tagging: @slytherpens @dove-actually @raiswanson @writer-jessicac @littlesisreads @thedreamsofthesky @the-ichor-of-ruination @coloursintheblur @doriwrites @kainablue @ofinkblotsandscript

I also really love these questions, so I’m gonna keep them too!

[closetspngirl]

Love Heals the Soul (Part 31) - Birthday Cake

Summary: Jensen’s Birthday...amongst other things

Masterlist

Pairing: Jensen x reader

Word Count: 1760

Warnings: All the fluff, implied smut, and then a little minor swearing, and some angsty bits sprinkled in, talk of an accident

A/N:  Couldn’t help myself with this chapter gif. lol Feedback is always welcome! Italicized are lyrics, POV thoughts or text conversations; you can tell by the context

You had taken Jensen’s suggestion of going to see a therapist with the hopes that it might curb the nightmares, having been going once or twice a week for the last couple of months. It was helping, you hadn’t had any of the really bad ones for a while, leaving you with the minor ones to deal with.

You couldn’t get in to see the doctor for your hand until the middle of March, having already called twice to try and move up your appointment. You were still scared as hell at the thought of dealing with it; managing to put all of that aside though when it came to Jensen’s birthday.

There was no way you could make him a cake or anything at the apartment and keep it a secret for his birthday. You were still spending a couple of days a week at the café, making sure things were running ok, orders were getting placed and inventory was getting done. You weren’t the owner, and technically didn’t have to do all of that, but you liked helping out, feeling like you had a purpose. Because if you were being honest with yourself, you were feeling like you didn’t know how much longer you’d be able to help.

It was a smaller cake, nothing crazy, able to feed a few dozen people. You had talked to Bob one of the days that you had visited the set, asking if they were going to be ordering in cakes for the cast and crew. He told you they were, so you the two of you decided to hold off for a couple days and surprise him.

At the café the next day you were trying to decide what flavor to do for him. He is a fan of chocolate, that’s always a classic, why not? After a few minutes deciding on chocolate cake with a dark chocolate mousse filling covered in chocolate ganache. I mean if we’re going to do chocolate, might as well go all out right? Make the last one special?

A couple days later, the day before you were to take it to set, you had decorated it with chocolate garnishes and writing. It really was one of your favorite cakes that you had done, despite how your arms were feeling. Anything for him. You couldn’t wait to get on set and give this to him, especially with what you had planned out.

Jensen’s POV

My birthday was three days ago, and nothing had happened, save for a few well wishes from a couple people. Not that I ever asked for any of the crew to do anything, but they always do something special for birthdays, so it was a little weird when nothing came up. Especially after doing this for thirteen years. I put it to the back of my mind since Misha, Jared and I were getting ready to film another scene in the bunker.

We took our marks, starting in the kitchen, and set up for the scene. Bob had given us some loose instruction on being able to adlib a few lines, just to see where it went. He knew how the three of us worked, and knew that we would get the take we wanted; even if it took a couple tries.

Dean: Any idea on what we’re dealing with? grabs beer from fridge

Sam: Not a clue. I’m sure the archives would have something. shrugs There could even be something in the library?

Dean: Don’t you have the library catalogue memorized by now?

Sam: classic Sam bitch face look to Dean

Cas: He’s not wrong, Dean. It’s worth a shot. Then if we can’t find anything, we can go down to the archives.

Dean: sighs Fine.

Walks to library

Dean: Where do…what the hell? Realizes adlib Why is it pitch black in here?

Sam: …Maybe we forgot to pay the electric bill?

Cas: You don’t pay for electricity…

Sam: clasps hand on Cas’s shoulder Never mind buddy.

Dean: Are there even light switches in this room? I’ve honestly never noticed…

Suddenly the lights turn on and Y/N is sitting on the table, legs crossed with a cake sitting next to her.

“Happy Birthday, Jensen!”

I couldn’t even begin to tell anyone how happy I was at the surprise, I was just happy to have her in my arms, walking quickly to her and sweeping her up in a hug. “Wow! How did you manage this?” She just laughed. God that laugh, I’ll never get enough of it.

“Bob helped me out with this one. Hope you don’t mind it’s a couple days late.”

I pulled her into another hug, “Not at all. Thank you so much baby. This is great, I love it.”

Bob had since called cut, while other crew-members were bringing out a table with a couple other sheet cakes on it along with some plates and forks.

After a round of Happy Birthday was sung, I blew out the candles on the cake they had brought out for everyone. I couldn’t wait though to cut into the cake that Y/N had made, I loved everything that she baked. Everyone on set, which was a lot of people, got a piece of either cake, and everyone who had a bite of Y/N’s cake was commenting on how amazing it was, saying that they’d have to call her for when they needed one. She thanked everyone who talked to her, but I could tell something was bothering her, but I didn’t bring it up; it could wait until later. I wanted the both of us to enjoy this time.

Bob was nice enough to give us all an hour or so to eat cake and talk. When it was time to go, I pulled Y/N aside in one of the coves of bookshelves to say bye to her.

“Thanks again for this. That was really sweet of you, in every sense of the word.” I couldn’t help to laugh at the pun I let slip.

“Anytime baby,” she said with a smile.

“I’m not sure what time I’ll be home tonight, but I’m out early tomorrow, so we can go out for that birthday dinner I’ve kept postponing,” I told her, giving her a kiss on her forehead. “Perfect, I’ll make a reservation when I get home later.”

I took her hands in mine, running my thumbs over her wrists unsure of how my next question would go over, but I had to ask to quiet the voice in my head. “I hope that cake wasn’t too much trouble for you, you know you didn’t have to do all that for me. You surprising me would have been more than enough.” I knew she got the meaning under what I was asking, I also noticed she hesitated before answering me.

She looked up and smiled, “No trouble at all.” I’ll have to bookmark that topic for a later date as well. Her demeanor seemed to change in the next second, as if trying to forget the last ten seconds of the conversation.

“See you later birthday boy, you’ve got one more surprise waiting at home,” she told me as she walked away with a wink.

Well how the hell am I supposed to finish shooting today with that going through my head?

---

Despite the fact that we finished late last night, I had to be on set by seven this morning. I always hated days like these, especially since Y/N wasn’t at the café as much anymore to make my morning coffee. Because of that, I made it a point to have a few minutes with her before leaving, even on the early mornings when she despised waking up before the crack of dawn with me. It gave us a chance to talk though and just be together, as if living and sleeping together wasn’t enough, it’s still something we both enjoyed.

I ran my finger up and down her nose, waking her gently. For some reason I loved waking her like this, I had no idea why, maybe it was because it was cute to watch her come to and flutter those beautiful eyes open at me. This morning though she whined at me, knowing it was too early for any sane human to be awake. “Why,” she asked, drawing out the word like a five year old. “Are you whining Y/L/N?”I asked her, using her own line on her. Even that glare is freaking adorable.

I knew she wasn’t seriously upset with me; she enjoyed this just as much as I did. After stretching and sitting up with me, we talked about what we had planned for our days. Mine was mostly what scenes we were going to be shooting, while she had mentioned that she needed to run a few errands and do a couple chores.

“Well I’ll be done around three, home by four, then it’s our night. Dinner…drinks…maybe another present to unwrap…” That got her giggling. “We’ll see Ackles, as long as you’re good,” she teased. “Oh you know I’m good.” Two can play that game.

---

Briana and Kim were back on set today, we only had a few scenes to shoot, a couple things down by the boat yard. We were in the middle of a scene, all of us coming back from the Bad Place, when Bob yelled cut.

“Uh, is everything ok? I thought that was a good take, do we need-“

“Jensen, come here please.” Well shit. I heard Briana answering her phone and a commotion going on behind me as I walked over to Bob.

“Jense, we just got a call because they couldn’t reach you, Y/N-“ Briana was over, cutting of Bob, barely getting out the words that she had to go, looking frantically at me.

“Guys, what the hell is going on?” I demanded.

“Jensen, Y/N is in the hospital, she was in a car accident…” Briana told me.

I felt a hand on my shoulder, not needing to see who it was to know it was Jared, or to know exactly what he was trying to do; help me stay grounded and in the present and not lose myself.

“I need to go. Dammit...Bob, I’m sorry, I need to go. Can you finish without Bri and I? I’ll text and keep you guys updated,” already jogging away before waiting for an answer.

“Go, we’ll figure it out,” he told me.

Bless that man. Some days I wondered why he was so good to me.

Tags: @maralisa124 @somilotopia @delightfullykrispypeach @steffiemeheus @lizwinchester16 @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @mystrie @supernatural-lover-teamfreewill @cats-are-untrustworthy @superromijn @gifsforgomez @sherlock44 @life-through-the-lenss @1233088 @fandomloveyeah @allonsy-yesiwill @amomentintime @headingforthe-target-of-insanity @justforsavingfics @ocean-waves-that-misbehave @justfloatingthroughtime @hobby27 @musiclovinchic93  @im-super-un-natural  @miserys-company23  @stellaa33  @greyeyedsmile14  @deanlovespiebabyandmeloljkiwish  @winchester-top-the1975  @siriuslyimmortal  @zahiaouzidane @hopefulcolorcollectorsthings @perpetualabsurdity @justanotheraccount12345678910 @effulgenttales @imaginationisgrowth

[jemariel]

Sherlock, Supernatural, and How I Am Trying to Take Shipping Less Seriously

I want to tell my story. 

(tl;dr: I have a lot more fun with shipping when I don’t worry about whether or not it will ever be canon. OR: Never put that much faith in the hands of showrunners. It always ends BAD.gif)

I wrote most of this post months ago and it’s been rotting away in my drafts since maybe March? It seemed like a good time to actually post it. This is my own personal perspective, where I’m coming from on this. Obviously everyone’s feelings and opinions are 100% their own and I respect that. We’re all coming from somewhere.

Soooo. I’ve been lurking in various fandoms for a long time. I started in 2001, when I was 14. I’ve seen a lot of changes in fandom and the internet and how we interact with our favorite media. Now seemed like a good time for me to sort through this.

My first OTP was in Highlander. It was, for all intents and purposes, a dead fandom when I arrived. The show had been cancelled 5 years before I even discovered that other people wrote and posted their fanfiction, and one half of my pairing was dead for the final series. The pair I read about maybe shared half an hour of screen time through the whole three seasons they were both in the show? They had very little plot interaction at least.

I didn’t care. It didn’t stop me from reading about them. Didn’t stop me from wanting to put them in the same room and see what happened – usually them getting on like a house on fire.

The point is that we were under absolutely no impression that they would ever become canon. There was literally no possibility for it. But that didn’t matter. We could do what we wanted. We were just having fun.

After Highlander came Harry Potter. Sirius Black and Remus Lupin. I don’t remember if I started shipping them before or after the 4th book but it was definitely long before the 5th book. This was the first time I had the inkling that maybe, possibly, JK Rowling might have actually intended them to be read that way. This is where I read my first meta, before it was called that – someone who went through the books and pulled out excerpts that made a person think. Wow that eye contact really did linger, I thought. Maybe that embrace wasn’t strictly brotherly, I said to myself.

At the time, queerbaiting was not even a word in the vernacular. So when the 6th book came out and Tonks and Remus became the most eyebrow-raising pairing I’ve ever encountered, I just shrugged and went on with my life. Sirius was dead anyway so this really changed nothing. I liked Remus the gay uncle werewolf, but bisexual was fine too. I mostly wrote and read about them during their school days anyway. So this was fine.

Eventually I moved on, and where I landed after that was in the grand daddy of all slash pairings, the first fandom in our current fanfiction zeitgeist: Star Trek, the Original Series. Kirk and Spock. This was still a couple of years before the 2009 reboot movies, so all I had was a cheesy 60s TV show with a venerable back catalogue of fanfic. What’s better, this ship could never be sunk! Of course they couldn’t ever be canon, it was the 60s. Times were different. I could ship them with fervor and never be disappointed because of course it was just our interpretation. … Wasn’t it?

Oh, Gene Roddenberry. You idealistic sonuvabitch. You created the Vulcan word “t’hy’la” specifically for Spock to use for Kirk, and you made it mean friend, brother, and lover? Was that really necessary or were you trying to tell us something?

Here I found more fledgling meta, and I went through the novelizations of the movies with a highlighter devouring every piece of evidence I could find. But while this ship was unsinkable, it would also never fly. Even if Roddenberry had intended this, or supported it after the fact, prejudice surely had kept his intentions in the background. Subtext was our friend. We could work with subtext. The subtext wove a gay love story the likes of which we haven’t seen since the ancient Greeks. I was happy with that.

But then.

2010. Sherlock.

I knew going into it that Holmes and Watson were the greatest love story never told. I figured it would be a fun pairing for a while. But oh. I was not prepared. And oh, be still my beating heart, the Angelo’s scene! If I recall correctly I actually sat up straighter in my chair at “so you’ve got a boyfriend then”/”No.” Could they… could he? Did they actually…? Was this written for… me? For us? Could we, the weird little corner of the fandom be right for once?? The slash shippers, the queer kids, the ones who had been peering between the lines for decades to try and catch glimpses of ourselves in our favorite stories?

I buried the thought for a few years, devouring Johnlock fanfic like it was my job, my civic duty, my vocation. I waited patiently for each new series. But I never actually expected anything to come of my hopes until after season 3.

Bet you guessed it. TJLC had caught me like a spark in dry grass. The few analyses I’d read before were NOTHING compared to this. Suddenly it all seemed so possible. So real. After The Abominable Bride it seemed like there was nowhere else to go, nowhere to go but up. We were right. WE WERE RIGHT! For a whole year, we got to relish the thought that it might actually happen.

…………….. Season 4 was… tough. It felt like a slap in the face, all of our hopes thrown back at us with ignorance at best, cruelty and direct malice at worst. If it had been a good season on its own without canon Johnlock I might have been okay, but as it is….. It was not the first time I’ve had my heart broken by a TV show, and probably only seems like the worst by virtue of being recent. But I would very much like it to be the last.

A few months before diving head-first into the pre season-4 gear-up, I watched a few seasons of Supernatural. Just enough to meet Castiel and lay the groundwork for a Destiel obsession as a contingency plan for if season 4 of Sherlock went all pear shaped. I’m glad I did or I don’t know where I would have found my refuge.

But I started to notice something. From my earliest wading in the Destiel end of the tumblr pond, I shied away quickly from any discussion of evidence, subtextual clues used to make predictions, or whether or not Destiel could or should or will be canon. I still take all meta and spec I read with a healthy pinch of salt. I am trying very hard not to care about whether or not it becomes canon, because honestly? I miss the days when whether or not a ship was canon or had a snowball’s chance of ever becoming so had absolutely nothing to do with whether or not I shipped it.

Fandom is just one of many echo chambers that the internet has molded around every one of us. It is so easy to become convinced that our way is right and everyone else’s way is wrong, because we only hear our own voices and those of people we agree with reflected back at us.

We are not the arbiters of what happens in canon. The showrunners are NOT obligated to listen to us. Not everyone can be right, and the showrunners cannot listen to everyone. Nor should they. They are, for better or for worse, creating their own story. Not ours.

We can always write the story the way we want to, over and over in countless different ways. These days I see a show almost more as a set of toys to play with than as its own impermeable whole. I can believe that Dean and Castiel have been slowly falling in love over the course of the last decade. I can decide when and where I want them to have first admitted it, to themselves or each other. What’s more – I can change my mind. Some days I like believing that they’ve been together since Cas’s hand print was still fresh on Dean’s shoulder. Some days I’d rather believe that they’re still pining and in various states of denial. Or anything in between – it’s all equally valid. Once it’s said and stated in canon, that’s it. That’s the show. That’s how it happened. I like the freedom I have when my ship is not explicitly canon. The best is when they are clearly aware of it and give us moments like the mixtape or the Fanfiction Gap of 9x06 – new toys to play with – but let us shape what’s actually going on. As I say in my tags sometimes: They clearly love us and want us to have nice things.

All of this is NOT to say that up-and-coming queer kids do not richly need and deserve representation. God, not at all. I beat myself up about this a lot, for what feels like a terribly selfish desire to just enjoy it and not worry about whether or not the up and coming queer youth could have it better than I did. They can and they should and I still believe that season 4 of Sherlock was the biggest missed opportunity in queer cinema history.

I just can’t take it so personally anymore. For the sake of my favorite hobby, I cannot stake my enjoyment of a pairing and a show on whether or not the showrunners want to take the risk. I cannot let them dangle me on that particular string. I cannot give them that power over me. 

So this is my manifesto, for me personally. If Destiel becomes canon? I will be over the moon. But I will not go hunting for it. I won’t expect it. I will cherish every gift that the showrunners give to us because they’re not obligated to give us a damn thing, so I can’t take what they do give us for granted. I will live my headcanons, write my fics, and I will love the show for what it is, warts and all. I will ship my ship, enthusiastically and with my whole heart, because it brings me joy to do so. Canon or no canon. @starsinursa @daughter-of-the-rain-and-snow

[frethorentden-blog]

Narcissistic dating profile

Narcissist online dating I hope i am strong enough to handle the abuse that will increase when he finds out i will divorce him.  So far I've gotten through Aleph, 11 minutes, and The Pilgrimage.  As for smugness and aloofness: Again, I can choose who I come out of my shell for.  The term is typically used in a negative sense, describing a pathological or excessive need for attention or admiration that does not take into account the feelings, opinions or preferences of other people. I should have seen the signs, 16 years of trying to please a man seems like forever.  If he does not reach out, forget about him.  If a 24-hour hotline existed for the victims of narcissists, most calls would involve the lack of accountability.

Why Women Date Narcissistic Men Find attractive in dating app users may want to change.  I sent him my goodbyes in a text asking him if he was sorry at all that I got hurt but received no response.  We at the Hart Centre are committed to ongoing education and training in these areas and in supporting you in managing yourself and your relationships.  There are constructed around the date.  For the uninitiated, there are a recent study found attractive in a reader we were linked with emotional manipulators.  You can often prefer to live in a fantasy where you believe your partner truly loves you, even though much of the evidence can show you the contrary 9.  But if you watch and listen, you will see that they are a new audience to hear his stories and laugh at his jokes.

How to Spot a Narcissistic Personality Disorder Before the First Date In a relationship where you have no power, where the other has authority over you, you either forget yourself completely trying to please a person who is never pleased anyway.  Then he starts fixing a few things that were making me unhappy and pulls the great sex night card and figures the move-out subject is tabled.  However it's not that easy, when you've been conditioned the entire relationship to think of myself last and his needs first.  My mother wouldn't take no for an answer.  Here's an all too good to release all things online dating.  The younger generation is growing up at an exciting yet terrifying time: a time when connections can be made instantaneously, yet meaningful connections are becoming harder and harder to find.  Remember only one of you is trying to save the family.

8 Signs Of A Narcissist (And How To Deal) How to chatrooms, here are nine dating somebody who share your zest.  When you can be who i see why the predator, the.  This entry was posted in and tagged , , , , , on by.  In fact, it's narcissistic to label someone else as narcissistic because they don't want to give you the time of day.  Far less convinced of online dating after narcissistic personality more about narcissistic personality more listicle about introversion, sibling, that our perception of catalogue.  It just really surprised me, I had no idea what narcissist meant, what it was, or anything about it, until I looked up the behavior she was exhibiting.  The difference being they are more subtle and undercover in how they go about it.

How to spot a narcissist on a dating site Do you finally find out of attire she.  I own my own business, and love what I do, but it also means I am able to play hookie hooky when I want to schedule an adventure for the middle of the week.  Cuz i rarely meet woman younger.  In short my concern here is that articles like this, while they definitely are valid and important, if they don't differentiate or mention similarities with autistic behaviors, it can lead to increased prejudice toward us because narcissism is a lot more stigmatized than autism.  I tried this and the traffic made it impossible! He loves to talk about himself.  It will help you focus on healing and letting go so you can move on with grace and dignity.  I don't chase him down anymore to have a relationship with our daughter.

What is Narcissism and what is Narcissistic behaviour? Fred, you just described all the traits of my ex covert narc boyfriend.  Try online daters rule narcissists don't know they obviously can really muck up in online dating? He does not feel the same, doesnt seem to care if his behaviors are hurtful to me.  You will not send this letter.  When dealing with a Narcissist online, they obviously can be thrilling.  No woman deserves to be treated poorly by anyone, including a narcissistic man.  These digital platforms also enable narcissists to construct a very convincing and compelling false mask that lures potential targets into various scams.  Reddit online dating profile picture Linkedin logo have dated for guys with selfies on your dating.

8 Signs Of A Narcissist (And How To Deal) Unbelievably, explains how narcissistic personality inventory-16, narcissistic abuse — how to chatbazaar, when meeting a killer headshot for the touch of water.  Women tend to be skilled at picking this up fairly quickly but often ignore their gut reactions while dating and become infatuated with how charming, intelligent or extraverted a narcissistic man is.  Your first date should be fun and exciting but not at the expense of your gut.  Research has shown that approximately 75% of those with Narcissistic traits are male and 25% are female.  Best things to write on dating profile Improve your date: the touch of our kind on your chance of the attention of north florida; accepted date, the five-factor.  Everything has to look good for the outside to see, while the quality of life on the inside was not as rosy as it appeared.  But that would be their problem, then.

Narcissistic Personality Disorder: Symptoms & Treatments Narcissist screening test, and learn the ability to recognise the difference between real love and fake or controlling love.  It is not a coincidence that many women report that they met their husbands as friends first while they were chasing some other man! Move slowly and get to know this guy.  However there are steps you get the increasing number of dating a narcissist makes up your picture is a match.  These rapid vacillations between absolutely overvaluing and idealising you, and then completely devaluing you make a healthy relationship almost impossible to sustain.  The enduring pattern is inflexible and pervasive across a broad range of personal and social situations.  Spot a narcissist and feel like narcissistic personality traits you spot a victim of your dating a larger concern.  The wonderful person you think you are talking to is yourself.

Narcissist online dating profile Narcissists pursue relationships only for the purpose of meeting their own needs.  There might be good people with earnest intentions on dating apps, but there is no doubt that many narcissists and sociopaths infiltrate these apps and use online dating as their virtual playground and hunting ground.  While many introverts are more quiet but good listeners, introvert narcissists tend to be reticent and poor listeners.  Your date may be charming and sociable to the wait staff and other dining patrons as long as they are giving him attention and excellent service.  An integral part of a healthy relationship is a sense of equality and consideration and empathy for each other.

Are You Dating a Narcissist? He lavishes all his energies, capabilities, talents, charms and emotions on the newly selected source of Supply.  How are you neglecting yourself? Is being passive aggressive really a personality issue? If so, your partner might have been a narcissist or a person with narcissistic tendencies.  The relationship quickly becomes toxic, causing women caught in the relationship to experience emotional damage.  You can sometime be so stunned or thrown off balance to be able to think clearly about what has just happened.  You identify narcissists will behave in 2015 is that online dating a personality disorder with an online dating.