#yelling about writing

[snugspheal]

I love Russell's writing style so much!!!

[riddlemearose]

I think we as the LU fandom need to stop the whole "Sky gets mad at Wild for the Master Sword breaking in TOTK" and start going "Sky is going to throw hands with TOTK Ganondorf no matter what laws of magic he has to break to do so".

Bc let's be real here, if Sky ever found out that Ganondorf tried to kill Wild and literally destroyed Fi while attempting to do so bc she was protecting Wild the best she could, he really would just go and kill Ganondorf himself.

He would manifest himself into Tears of the Kingdom in any way he possibly could (as a ghost, via possession, literally forming a physical body out of pure spite and rage, fistfighting the Shadow to open a portal) and he would jump into the Hyrule Castle rift and murder Ganondorf single-handedly.

And Wild would 100% be on board with this bc 1. now he has the best back-up he could possibly ask for; and 2. he knows that Sky murdering Ganondorf would be glorious to watch

[anachronistic-falsehood]

i need to sit down every fanfiction writer who writes smut about trans guys and i need to explain to them the effects testosterone can and will have on a transmasc person's body and also explain how depictions of trans guys in porn can come off as extremely fetishizing when written carelessly and they really need to speak to transmasc people and see them as People before throwing them into a fic to get fucked by some extremely masculine cis man

[nibbelraz]

A writer and His number one fan hater

[notquiteaghost]

as we know i have a starkly different take on tatooine era obi-wan to ~canon. because now the canon is in the hands of cowards. he is NOT experiencing hope he is laying facedown on the floor for nineteen years waiting for someone else to do something because demonstrably he cannot be trusted with action.

the point of the hell cody fic is not to diverge from the correct timeline of events (the republic falls > obi-wan spends 19 years wallowing in despair > leia tells him about the death star > he kills himself to avoid actually training luke) but to. have cody be there. in no better shape.

and like i don't want the end note to be depressing but the hopeful element is the fall of the empire. circumstances will improve, for everyone else, offscreen. fic postscript: okay now go watch the return of the jedi

trying to articulate to myself the tone i want the back half of the hell cody fic to have. why does caring about the art mean making it is so difficult

[buddie-buddie]

“So,” Buck says, blinking up at Tommy. He still hasn’t gotten over how good that feels– looking up at his partner. Being with someone whose warm, protective hand settles on the small of his back and nearly spans the distance between his hips. Someone whose big, strong arms envelop him when they hug, someone who can tuck Buck into his chest almost effortlessly. Someone who makes him feel grounded, protected, safe. In more ways than one.

“So,” Tommy returns the word, accompanying it with a warm smile, the kind that reaches all the way to his eyes and makes them sparkle as he looks down at Buck. 

“You met my parents,” Buck says with a laugh, because really– how could he not? It’s a little ridiculous, now that he’s saying it out loud. “On our third date.”

Tommy nods, leaning against the wall outside of Buck’s front door. “Mhmmm,” he hums, watching Buck with a fond smile as he fumbles for his keys. “Sure did.”

It takes a minute, but Buck finally manages to get his keys out of his pocket and into the lock. Tommy is nothing but patience and fondness, watching him with a sparkle in his eye that makes Buck feel warm all over. When he finally gets the door open, Buck’s chest swells as Tommy’s big hand comes out to hold the door open for him, nodding for him to head inside first. 

That’s a first. Buck’s stomach flips, a warm, pleasant feeling skating across his skin as he pulls his key from the lock and steps inside. It’s the same feeling he had on their first date when Tommy pulled out his chair before he sat down. The same one he had the first time Tommy texted him Be safe at the start of a shift. 

A smile tugs at his lips as Tommy follows him into his apartment and the door clicks shut behind him. There’s something so simple about it, something so mundane and normal and domestic that it makes Buck’s head spin and his heart pound against his ribcage in the very best way. He wants this again. And again, and again, and again. Wants to come home with Tommy. Come home to Tommy. Wants the door to close behind them, wants to leave the world outside and exist only in this world here, in the one with the warm glow of the kitchen lights casting shadows on Tommy’s face as he toes his shoes off beneath the bike that hangs on Buck’s wall. The one where he pulls two beers out of the fridge and sets them on the counter, and Tommy opens them wordlessly, the silence comfortable as it stretches between them. The one where the necks of their bottles clink and their knuckles brush and Buck’s skin hums and his heart sings from just one small taste of Tommy’s skin against his. 

Buck’s the one to break the easy, comfortable silence. He does it with a small laugh, just shy of a giggle, as he thinks back to the look on his mother’s face when he walked into Chim’s hospital room with Tommy by his side and she connected the dots. “You were covered in soot.”

“Wasn’t the only one,” Tommy points out, grinning against the lip of his beer bottle as he takes another sip.

keep reading on ao3

[spacedace]

Okay but the Justice League finds out their new baby hero teammate Phantom is the Ghost King by virtue of the Fright Night showing up while they're in the middle of a meeting, looking terrifying and such and scaring the shit out of everyone- even more so when Constantine starts freaking out over the fact that the sworn night of the King of the Infinite Realms is in the Watchtower what the fuck that's apocalyptically bad Pariah Dark is supposed to be locked the fuck up forever - but instead of trying to smite them all or yeet them into the nightmare dimension he just pulls out a space themed packed lunch??? And gives it to Phantom??

And the mildly eldritch giant murder ghost is talking about how "The Queen Mother commanded me to ensure you ate my Lord, she says you missed your morning meal."

And Phantom is just grumbling about over protective sisters and "there's a cafeteria i would have been fine" what the fuck is happening right now?

What do you mean "oops you forgot" Phantom I thought the ghost thing was just a theme!

[miriamforster]

I HEARD Y’ALL LIKE SHARKS

Well I ALSO have a big pretty shark book, and it’s 50% on Amazon as of this posting.

[catnykit]

SOOO TIRED OF EMOTIONLESS MAD SCIENTIST LIKE MOTHERFUCKER SCIENCE AINT FUCKING LIKE THAT OK

OK HEAR ME OUT

SCIENCE REQUIRES A STUBBORN LEVEL OF CURIOSITY AND PASSION.

IF YOU'RE GONNA DO A MAD SCIENTIST,MADE THEM COMPLETELY HYSTERICAL ABOUT IT. MANIAC. LET THEM GO ACTUALLY CRAZY AND SQUEAKY AND EXCITED CUZ IF YOU LOVE SCIENCE YOU DON'T WANT TO KNOW,YOU NEED TO KNOW

GIMME A MAD SCIENTIST WHO EVERYONE IS NOT ONLY SCARED OF BUT ASLO CONCERNED. BECAUSE THATS AN UNHEALTHY OBSSESION BABY.

GIMME A MAD SCIENTIST THAT GAVE UP PROFESIONALISM FOR SHEER ENJOYMENT. WHO'S GONNA JUDGE THEM FOR THAT IF THEY'RE EXPERIMENTS AINT EVEN LEGAL

GIMME HYSTERICAL,PASSIONATE,MANIATIC AND OBSSESED MAD SCIENTIST. BECAUSE SCIENCE IS MESSY AND CONFUSING. SCIENCE IS FUCKING AROUND AND FIDING OUT AND IF YOU'RE MAD YOU CANNOT DO THAT AS CAREFULLY AS IT NEEDS TO BE

AND MORE IMPORTANTLY,

MAKE THEM SO UNPREDICTABLE THEY'RE SCARIER THAN WHATEVER COLD PSYCHO YOU'VE SEEN WITH A LAB COAT

[thugbiscuits]

don’t judge me bc i’m not a writer! i’ve just been thinking about it… also jimmy is mentioned. oops, 18+ only (minors / ageless blogs will be BLOCKED)

thinking about boyfriend!curly (who’s lowkey a golden retriever) and reader who have an apartment together and they live their best domestic life. and jimmy, your boyfriend’s shitty little friend is always coming over unannounced. curly being the best boyfriend he is, reminds you that you have nothing to worry about. he usually tells jimmy to stay away from you, his princess, anyways. claiming that you’re too sweet to be looked at like that. but jimmy is one of his best friends, you have to let him come over. even if he is a little creepy, and smokes his cigs on your patio. and gets into an argument with you EVERY single time he sees you.

what you don’t know is that jimmy is teaching your beloved boyfriend!curly about some pretty depraved stuff. they sit around outside with their beers, talking about the gross shit they’ve done in bed. (jimmy is a gross mf, curly comes to find out). Curly’s in awe of the things Jimmy tells him — it’s news to him that women like being slapped around a bit, and talked down on, in a consensual manner, ofc. (don’t blame him, he’s been in space for a year!) but not his pretty princess, right? He can’t barely imagine what your reaction to hearing all this would be like. Damn jimmy trying to fill his beautiful girl’s head with all this nasty stuff.

when jimmy finds out you two live a pretty vanilla life, he reminds curly that he can spice it up. telling your sweet doting boyfriend that he should be a little tougher on you in bed.. and that maybe it would keep you in line more. jimmy actually encourages Curly to discipline you, seeing as he’s much bigger than you and all. and that gets Curly to thinking. boy, does Curly’s dick get hard thinking about pulling on your pretty hair.

well the next time you’re complaining to Curly about that shirt he left on the floor he’s using his Captains voice now. being a little more firmer than usual when it comes to you two sharing a space.

(okay i ran out of brain juice, but you get the idea. hopefully 😂)

but idk what do y’all think?

[honeypiehotchner]

reader and hotch in the enemies to lovers fic btw

[backslashdelta]

@klainesecretsanta2024 gift for @spaceorphan18!

When I think of Pam I can't help but also think of the pages and pages of meta she's written over the years covering Klaine's story through the seasons. It didn't seem quite right to focus on one specific moment in their story, because how does one choose?? So instead I decided to focus on so many of the moments that make up their entire story - I hope that's okay! ;)

[artuurle]

I would be lying to @wishgraanted if said I wasn't hopelessly dependent on the Toby.

[mobius-m-mobius]

You wanna hear a good story? Listen to this one.

Mobius + comfort

[bluewolfangel01]

Random human: "Why are you sitting in a circle of salt?"

Mc: "Oh because my partners are demons and I am mad at them."

Demon Brothers: "YOU CANT STAY IN THAT CIRCLE FOREVER!!!"

Mc: "YOU LET ME HAVE A CHILL DAY WHERE MY LIFE ISNT IN DANGER AND THEN WE WILL TALK!"

(Not exact) Quote from Chikn Nugget and idea to use from @h0ney-mushroom

[buddie-buddie]

Buddie + “Who did this?”

“Who did this?” Eddie’s voice is hard and icy in a way that's almost foreign to Buck. Almost, but not entirely. His eyes drop to where Eddie’s lips are pressed into a line, his jaw set, and memories of derailed trains and risky rescues and Abby flash in his mind. 

Buck doesn’t have time to focus too much on that, though, because Eddie's closing the distance between them and taking Buck's chin in his hands. Everything else fades away until there’s nothing but the familiar warmth of Eddie’s gentle touch and the pleasant ache in Buck’s chest, the same one that blooms behind his ribs each time Eddie’s nearby. 

Eddie touches him like he's something sacred, holds him like he's something precious.

“I–” Buck hesitates. It’s not that he wants to hide anything from Eddie, he just… he doesn’t want to worry him, is all.

It’s bad enough he has a fresh bruise blooming across his jaw, blues and purples swimming beneath swollen skin. Swollen skin that’s split in one spot, held together with a butterfly bandage that Hen insisted he actually needed, despite his protests and attempts at bargaining. Of course Eddie’s going to worry when he sees that.

And see that, he did. About three seconds after Buck walked through the door of Eddie’s house– no, not Eddie’s house. Their house. His lease on the loft had officially ended two weeks ago, but he’d been living at the Diaz house for the better part of the last four months, since the morning he woke up sleepy and cranky, grumbling about having to stop by the loft before their shift to get more clothes and Eddie had kissed the spot behind his ear and murmured, “What if you bring them all over?”

Buck had turned over in Eddie’s arms, suddenly wide awake. “E-Eddie.”

“Bring them all,” Eddie had said, bringing a hand up and tracing Buck’s birthmark with gentle, reverent touches. “And all your shoes, too. And the frying pan Bobby got you for Christmas two years ago that you said you want to be buried with. And the books on your coffee table and that plant you keep killing and honestly? Your mattress. It’s better than this one.”

“Eddie,” Buck had breathed, unable to get anything else out past the lump that had suddenly appeared in his throat. 

“Buck,” Eddie said simply. Buck would never tire of hearing his name on Eddie’s lips. “Stay.”

And Buck did.

This isn’t just Eddie’s house anymore, it’s their house. And a few minutes ago, when Buck got home, Eddie had come to the front door to greet him, just as he always did when he heard Buck’s key in the lock. He rounded the corner with a warm, easy smile, one that instantly fell the second his eyes landed on Buck. He had stepped forward, closing the distance between them and reaching for Buck’s bruised face with a gentle insistence that was still fond, even when laced in desperation. 

Buck didn’t want to worry him any more than he already had. Plus, really, there’s nothing to worry about. Their last call of the shift had been to an overturned vehicle, and the driver was more than twice the legal limit and just as combative as he was plastered. Buck had tried to stop the guy from crawling out his window– Chim and Hen had wanted to get him on a backboard– but it was no use. The guy was out of the car and stumbling towards Buck with a fury in his eyes, accusing him of being the one to call the police. Buck was halfway through denying that claim when a fist flew at his face, pain exploding from his jaw as he reeled back, stumbling to the side as his hand flew to his face.  

There’s a fire burning in Eddie’s eyes, dark and protective. But more than that, there’s a softness there, a gentleness hidden in the way Eddie’s eyebrows lift just slightly, his eyes wide and searching as he waits Buck out.

“Buck,” Eddie says finally, barely above a whisper. It’s a plea more than anything. 

Six years of knowing Eddie and six months of dating him and Buck still folds like a cheap suit when Eddie looks at him like that. “It's nothing. Just a drunk idiot on our last call.”

Eddie makes a dissatisfied sound under his breath, running his fingers over the bruised skin with a touch so light and careful, it sets Buck’s heart on fire. “And this person was dealt with.” It’s not a question so much as it is a statement, one that speaks to his trust in the rest of the 118. His faith in them to have Buck's back, especially when he can't be the one to do it himself.

Buck nods the best he can with his chin still in Eddie’s hands. “Bobby,” he says, and it’s explanation enough. “And then Athena.” 

Eddie hums, and Buck can tell that while the answer satisfies him, it’s not enough to chase away all of the concern that’s needling at him. Buck brings his hands up, curling his fingers around the warm skin of Eddie’s wrists. The steady beat of Eddie’s pulse beneath his fingertips is instantly grounding. And maybe just as much for Eddie, too, if the small sigh that falls from his lips is any indication. 

“Baby,” Buck says softly. “It’s okay. I’m okay.”

Eddie’s voice is small when he answers, quiet and resigned in a way that splits Buck open just as much as Eddie’s words do. “I wasn’t there.”

Through no fault of his own. Christopher was running a fever the night before their shift started, and with Pepa out of town and Carla at Morongo again, Eddie had called out to stay home with him. Which he feels guilty about, if the resignation in his voice and the regret in his eyes are anything to go off of.

“You were exactly where you needed to be,” Buck reminds him. 

Eddie lets out a small sigh. “Yeah,” he agrees. “Doesn’t mean I hate it any less, though.”

Buck shrugs. “Never expected you would.” A small smile tugs at his lips, and he ignores the way that even the slight motion sends a fresh wave of pain radiating across his jaw. “Chim says we’re ‘sickeningly codependent.’” 

“Maybe,” Eddie admits, his thumb ghosting over Buck’s bottom lip. His gaze skates from Buck’s eyes to his lips, then back up again. Buck can see the moment Eddie hesitates, can see the flash of trepidation in his eye. 

“You’re not going to hurt me,” Buck assures him. “In fact,” he says, almost conspiratorially. “It could be what heals me.”

Eddie hums, a smile playing on his face. “Better give it a try, then.”

“Guess so.” 

Eddie finally, finally kisses him, and it may not patch Buck’s skin back together or undo the broken blood vessels, but it chases away every last bit of the pain. It ebbs away until there’s nothing but Eddie. Nothing but the feel of Eddie’s fingers in his hair and Eddie’s lips on his, nothing but the way Eddie grins against Buck’s mouth and Buck feels good and right and whole. He feels like an unmoored ship who’s anchor’s just hit the sand, no longer adrift. Steady. Grounded. Safe. 

He feels like he’s home. 

After all, he is. 

prompt game