#IS IT FANFIC? YES DO I CARE? NO

[threearmedsweater]

Headlines are starting up about Brendan Fraser doing another Mummy movie if he got the chance, and y'know WHAT...

I'm gonna shoot my shot. Gonna have something in the back pocket. Just in case.

[calicos-clones]

I don’t think people realize how freaked out fanfic readers get when their favorite author(s) doesn’t update their ongoing schedule ON TIME.

And it’s not cause we want the chapter…it’s cause we’re so fucking worried about the Author.

Like— OMG ARE YOU OKAY? YOU’VE BEEN GIVING US THE TRAGIC UPDATES OF YOUR LIFE IN THE NOTES THE PAST 10 CHAPTERS?! WHY STOP? ARE YOU DEAD? DID YOU GET STUCK IN THE WALL LIKE YOUR CAT?? HAVE YOU EATEN?? HAS YOUR BRAIN EXPLODED??

Readers no longer care about the story when they don’t get their usual update. We panic and flag S.O.S as we track down our wayward author who has been both blessed by the universe with a creative mind and cursed all the same with the worst luck.

So any authors who are reading this please understand— when we comment “hey are you okay?” in your comments. No, we are not asking about the chapter.

We are legitimately concerned for your wellbeing. Do not force yourself to shit out a chapter just to appease other ppl when you yourself are not in the mental state to enjoy it or even write it to begin with.

TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF DAMMIT

[snailtrain]

actually E2 for Desmond and Altair too

ehehehehehehe

this is a fill for this meme

[harringtonswriting]

would you maybe do ❝  you’re the only thing that matters anymore.  i can’t eat,  i can’t sleep—  all the goddamn cliches from every stupid movie and song.  you’re all i think about.  i’m useless except when i’m yours.  ❞ with Steve?? Seems very much like a Steve thing to say with a grand romantic gesture maybe 💕

ahhh i definitely agree, this is absolutely a steve thing to say and i hope the romantic gesture is grand enough!! 💕

...

Thunk.

You’re not quite sure what that sound is or where it’s coming from. You look up from your book, one you had been completely engrossed in for the last few hours, but when you don’t see anything moving or notice anything that’s fallen off your bed, you go back to it. You get about half a page of reading in before it comes again.

Thunk. Thunk. Thunk.

You put your bookmark between the pages and close your book before you get up off your bed to search for the sound. It keeps coming, and you realize it’s coming from your window. With all the weird happenings in Hawkins you’re more than a bit wary, because you’ll be damned if you’re going to end up monster food for whatever weird creature of the week is showing up now, so you grab the biggest, heaviest book you own to protect yourself before walking towards your window. You’ve hit someone with it before, completely accidentally, and knew it would be an excellent way to bludgeon something that might attack you.

Except it’s not some weird monster, or a Russian soldier, or even a government goon. No, standing on your lawn at nearly ten o’clock at night, is none other than Steve Harrington. Who’s really the last person you’re expecting to see right now, and the reason you’re spending your Friday night at home with a book.

Okay, well, you can’t put all the blame on him; most of it you put on yourself and the stupid crush you’ve been harbouring on him since you’d made the stupidly wonderful decision to go to Scoops Ahoy last summer, before Starcourt Mall burned down. Unfortunately, as you’d gotten to know Steve and become friends, that stupid crush had only gotten bigger and harder to contain. And when he’d been working in the mall, scooping ice cream with Robin and taking time to chat with you when you stayed way past your break time, he hadn’t been having any luck getting dates—something you were happy about. You felt bad being happy, yes, but him striking out meant you could spend more time with him (and Robin, lovely Robin, who’d very quickly become a staple in your life along with Steve).

But since leaving Scoops Ahoy and starting work at Family Video, Steve’s game had apparently done a 180 and now? Dates all the time, with all the very pretty girls who you’d gone to school with. Never more than once with the same girl, but Steve’s got his groove back and it aches a little, seeing him so excited every time he has a date. But you’re his friend, of course you are, so you push down your own feelings to smile and laugh and encourage him, just the same as Robin and Dustin and the others do, though it’s been getting harder and harder to do lately.

So you’ve been slowly pulling away; you find yourself visiting Family Video far less frequently, usually when Steve isn’t there. You find reasons to skip on group movie nights or hang outs at the Harrington house, and start keeping more to yourself. It’s just until you get over this stupid crush, you tell yourself, and you even tell Robin one night, when you’re on the phone well past midnight and she manages to drag your reasoning for skipping on an outing to Indianapolis with her and Steve.

You’d thought Steve hadn’t noticed. But obviously he had, because here he is. So you put the big book down on your desk before you unlock your window and open it.

A rock goes whizzing by your face, barely missing your cheek, which you were not expecting. You yelp, and that catches Steve’s attention.

“Shit! Sorry! Did I get you?” he yells up at you and you lean out the window to shake your head where he can see you.

“What are you doing here, Steve?” you ask, resting your hands on the window sill so you can lean out a little farther. You can see him shuffling from foot to foot, a big silver boombox resting by his feet. One of his hands is constantly running through his hair, a nervous habit you know he has. His BMW is parked at the end of your driveway.

“I have something I gotta tell you,” he calls up, gesturing with the hand not in his hair. You feel your stomach twist in your abdomen; is he here to break off your friendship? Maybe he knows about your crush and he’s finally had enough. What other reason would he have to be here right now? He probably just finished a date with his latest girl—Heidi? Lauren? You couldn’t remember and honestly, you didn’t want to. Especially not if it was someone Steve was choosing over you. Not that you’d blame him, but still.

“Steve, really, you don’t have to say anything.” Because it’ll hurt more to hear you tell me it’s over before it even began, you want to say. But you don’t. You start to head back in through your window, but Steve shouts and stops you before you can get back in.

“Wait! I do have to say it, because I can’t stand that we haven’t been as close lately. It’s killing me and I can’t keep going like this.” You’re silent, watching him move closer to your house, grabbing the boombox to hold up to his chest. “You’re the only thing that matters anymore. I can’t eat, I can't sleep—all the goddamn cliches from every stupid movie and song. You’re all I think about. I'm useless except when I'm yours.”

Holy shit.

That is definitely not what you’re expecting him to say, and one hand comes up to cover your mouth because that was actually the sweetest thing you think you’ve ever heard him say to you.

That’s when he starts fiddling around with the buttons on the boombox until he gets it to do what he wants, and he cranks the volume dial all the way up before he holds it up over his head. It takes a second before you hear the opening bars of Careless Whisper start to play. He starts swaying back and forth, boombox held high, and god you feel yourself falling even harder because Steve is here, doing this for you, after telling you something that sounds like it would be straight out of one of the romance novels on your shelf.

You get to enjoy the sight in front of you for about a minute before you notice a light turn on and start shining from the house next door.

“Turn the goddamn music down!” You hear your neighbour, old man Mitchell, yell from the vicinity of his yard. It ruins the moment, just a bit, and you can’t help the laughter that bubbles up as Steve nearly drops the boombox on his feet in his rush to turn it off.

“Sorry!” Steve yells back, and you laugh louder. Steve laughs too, the sound floating up to your window, and you can’t help the smile on your face.

You wave your hand at Steve, gesturing for him to come inside, and even from your window you can see the way his entire face blossoms into a wide grin as he lowers the boombox and makes his way towards your front door.

Steve wants to be yours. And you want to be his. And when you unlock the front door and pull Steve in for a big kiss, you press play on the boombox so the two of you can dance to George Michael’s unbearably cheesy song in your living room while you tell each other how you feel.

[notveryflamboyantofyou]

Hehe I have made fanart for the levels fic A Tale of Spirits by @unorthodoxx-page!

I did take a few liberties on the rise boys designs but I stuck mostly to how I felt they were described (single shots and one without the text under the cut)

[qcomicsy]

Lately I've only been wishing to grab a comic about my favorite character and just have a genuinely good time reading it.

[transmechanicus]

I feel like you’re giving me a warped impression of what 40k is like.

Is this because of the adorable catboy dark angels? Do you hate me bc i like it when my power armored kittens yell "REPENT FOR TOMORROW YOU DIE"?

[tassodelmiele]

Noisy little mess

Hi sweetie ⁓

I'm actually surprised someone appreciated my little attempt.

I'm jiggling happily, even though you can't see.

Also, I'm unexpectedly enjoying writing in english, so as long as whatever I'm goddamn studying will let me, I'll keep on with this experiment.

I hope you like it!

Also forgive me again for any mistakes, english has too many consonants that are not pronounced and I mess up every time

DISCLAIMERS: no smut (sowwy) just some recollection of dirty moments, GhostxReader and Soap and Gaz 'cause finally they're throw into this mess, arguing (again), the gnome-nickname thing, blame shifting (again), how-not-to-do-training, ignoring doctor's advices, insubordination and yells ('cause me too i yell like an eagle when i'm angry), mask covering embarrassment

..................................................

Second part here:

................................................

And you do. You ask. And you shouldn't have.

«Of fucking course we noticed. It was like ye were constantly overwhelmed by…i don't know what, i've not a degree in women's hormones»

Johnny sips his morning coffee with nonchalance, while Gaz nods, sitting in front of the two of you. 

You're almost gonna faint. 

«And…and why the hell none have told me-»

«Oh, sure lassie, and how do ye think ye would have taken the news? "Hey dall, you know that ye're almost dripping from your panties?"»

Gaz throws a towel at him, but he agrees with another nod.

«Speak as you eat> he scolds him, then he turns at you: <he's right, though. You've acted weird the whole two last days. Why are you asking?»

 You bury your head in your hands, swallowing breakfast as it is dry sand in your throat.

«…nevermind. I'm just sorry at this point»

«There's no use lassie, we know ye» Soap's arm surrounds you, squeezing away a little bit of the anguish. «And ye'r not the only girl at the base, ya know? It happens»

«Seriously?»

«'F course»

«…my god. So now you know the period calendar of every female being at the base?»

«Kinda»

«…mh»

«Is he bothering you?»

You look at Gaz. He seems concerned and curious, and you don't really want him to be none of that. You don't know what to answer anyway, and reply arrives with ten seconds of delay:

«…he?»

«Ghost»

You shiver instinctively. And you know for sure that Johnny has felt you, but you shake your head like hell, pretending vigorously that you don't even know what Gaz's talking about.

«Why?»

«We've seen him around you a lot. And he could be demanding when someone's not giving his best at training. And…»

«…ye'r clearly not doing it» Soap ends the sentence with a teasing smile.

You answer with a pout, flexing your muscles.

«That's totally untrue. I'm always at my best»

«Raise your levels than, since i think he's ready to squeeze you like a lemon today»

It seems like Gaz 's talking really philosophically this morning. You raise an eyebrow at him, then follow his gaze behind you.

And you gulp, seeing a big, dark figure walking toward the table.

You swallow an oatmeal crumb, risking choking on yourself. Then a firm, strong grip holds your shoulder, making your bones crack like they're made out of crackers.

Ghost's voice hits you like a truck.

«I was wondering what could've made you late for the training». He glares at you from the top. «Breakfast. Of fucking course»

You hear the light laugh of Soap and Gaz, who're apparently taking the Lt.'s threatening as a funny joke. You're not. You're shivering, swallowing hot air, lowering your eyes deeper and deeper in the oatmeal. Your heart skips a beat as he tightens his hold on you.

«You have one minute»

And you swallow a "yes sir" in a breath.

Today is not your day. Not at all.

You've already noticed it, but it is clearer now that you're in the middle of the training field, with everyone's eyes on you, while your Lt. (who's fingered you, like, two days ago) has just chosen you for fight practice.

You're sweating like hell, taking deep breaths. You're already drained, even if everything you've done till now is just tryna not to be touched by his fists; and he's trying to knock you out with way more diligence than you've thought.

You're dodging, your legs tremble at every sudden jerk you make to avoid crushing your nose on his fists, and the tactic seems to be working till he reaches your leg with a kick. You fall on your back, hitting your head on the ground like an idiot, and he's on you in a blink of an eye, squeezing your wrist in one hand and your throat in the other.

You panic.

And the tiniest of the whines break on your lips.

He squeezed harder all of a sudden, gripping your throat with full strength, gazing at you with a strange, really odd sight. Like he's annoyed, angry and aroused at the same time. 

He lets you go, and you start to cough, with your throat bruised and your head and lungs hurting. You glare at him, and he does the same.

He spits out a cold: «what?» as if he's throwing an ice cubes bucket at you.

«Is not that fair» you don't fear to answer honestly, even if you're voice is being squeezed out of your lungs «fighting with a girl who's 30 cm smaller than you»

«Oh, my bad. And, out of curiosity…» he lowered his face down to you, pinning you to the ground with just his sight «what are you planning to do if you'll face an enemy my size?»

«Shot at him»

«Good one, gnome. But you're disarmed by now»

«…run, then. Hide, i dunno. There's no point in start a fight that's lost from the beginning»

And he smile. You know he's smiling, part 'cause the others rookies surrounding you are watching in total silence as they're afraid he might choose one of them to break their bones (and he might); and part 'cause he knows he's in control. 

He suddenly breath, sharp like a knife: «than, run»

You stare at him.

He's joking…right?

No.

He's not.

And you understand it as he stands up in all of his height, grabbing you by the arm and lifting your weight as if it's nothing. You stumble on your feet, breath still scattered, and again he glares at you, shouting a clearer:

«Run»

Your legs move by themselves.

You find yourself running like hell throughout the training field, clearly feeling his presence behind you, and you know how goddamn fast he is. You skip through other training groups. slipping between obstacles, your eyes fixed in front of you and your lungs about to explode. You keep going for what's like an eternity, and when you think you're doing it…

a firm grip holds you by the arm. Your body is forced to stop so suddenly that your breath is broken under the pressure of an opposite force throwing you on the ground. Your spine is smashed on the field, lungs are shaking and throbbing in your ribcage and, as you turn over on your stomach to try and get up again, he just kicks you in the back, grabbing your arm and pin it behind you so tight, rotating it with a lot of strength.

Too much strength,

And you yell like an eagle, feeling the nerve in your elbow cry as it turns on itself.

«Ulnar nerve compression»

Doc is so professional in front of you two, who, on the other hand, seems like a cat and its owner at the vet after a bad fight.

Ghost is clearly embarrassed. He's trying to be professional and stern, but he can't even face your gaze, which is ice-cold. You're sitting next to him, your arm bandaged just as much as it is needed to make sure you don't move it, and you're trying to squeeze a laser beam out of your eyes and make your lieutenant into a strainer.

What in the actual fuck

«Do not move it for a day. It is better for you to make it rest, otherwise you can make other damages. And» doctor gaze at Ghost under his little round glasses «please, be more careful with the training»

It seems like he would like to add something (it's the third time in a month Ghost nearly breaks someone's body part just for training), but the doctor just sighs. He let you two get out of the infirmary, and as soon as you're alone in the corridor Ghost collect his breath to shout a not so convinced:

«…i'm sorry»

But this time you're ready.

«No. No, you're not»

«I am»

«You're just amused»

He stops, looking at you while you walk away in all of your 165 cm of glory and stillness. Then he reaches you again, not daring to touch any part of your body since he's already done enough damage.

«What does that even mean?»

«It means that you enjoy being able to crush whoever you want with bare hands»

«Like 's something the others don't enjoy»

«Not in that way». You raise your bandaged arm, hissing a painful breath. «We were training! Why couldn't we just do it normally?»

«Fight practice is normal, gnome»

«Not like that! My elbow had turned fucking purple!»

«You could've just run faster»

You stop. Your face jerks toward him, glaring at his goddamn mask like you're gonna spit fire from your mouth, and you have to look like a crazy owl since he doesn't seem to be frightened.

«Look» you start, restraining yourself from yelling «I'm not the best soldier, but I've never had problems with any of my superiors, i do my work and i don't act like a pussy. But I'm human. Ok? H-u-m-a-n»

«Seems like you know your limits»

«Of course i do, that's why-»

«You could've just told me to stop»

«Why me?!» you suddenly hiss through your teeth, looking desperately at the man who seems to enjoy your incoming aneurysm. «We…we used to eat the same breakfast, laughing with your team, speaking about cats in the morning…why have you started to play this goddamn game with me?? What has changed in two days?»

«You»

He breathes the answer like it is obvious, and your brain glitch for a second.

«…what?»

«You've changed» 

«Are you joking with me? What-how would i…»

Then you start connecting dots. Your gaze meets him again, piercing his mask.

«…is it because of that night? Is it still because of my goddamn moaning?»

And you know he's embarrassed.

You know it, since he doesn't know where to put his hands, and how to look properly at you. He rushes to speak again, choking the sudden loss of words in a stern: «I've already explained: it's your behavior»

«Seriously? You can't go forward? Did it seriously hit you that bad?»

«Don't» and he gives back the piercing-sight «play with me, gnome. Watch your fucking mouth»

«I've literally done nothing»

«You breath»

You raise your eyebrows, charge your voice and blow your cheeks: «oh, i'm so sorry if i function like a human being!»

«Is how you do it, you stupid little-»

«Oh no, don't you dare try to-»

«To what?»

«To put the blame on me!»

«Well i can't do that much 'bout it!»

Voices are lowering a little too much outside the infirmary. You stop your feet, turn again at him and stare at his glare with arms crossed, ready to scold your superior (even if it is the most stupid thing to do)...

but you shut.

He's a few steps away from you, eyes down on the floor and head a little titled. Your jaw dropped a little.

«…are you flustered?»

You can clearly see his brain snapping at light fast. And you know well how better it is for you to shut, pretend nothing happened and go away on your feet (till you've got functioning legs), but you can't do much about how fast your mouth opens, and your voice starts to come dangerously out in a whispered:

«Am i really turning you on?»

....................................................

[thenocturnenarrator]

For the forgotten ones by I’m sorry buddy. New episode dropped. This does not only apply to this Ink but also canon Ink.

Ink every time he meets Aster from Zephyrtale:

[3-heartstyle]

Somethin' Stupid - Frank Sinatra & Nancy Sinatra

[autistic-katara]

there r fics that make u insane (so amazingly good it’s removed ur sanity) and then there’s fics that make u insane (you need to fistfight the author for how they did a specific thing that caused u to rant for hours)

[lilacprose]

“I’m what remains.”

MECHANICAL MIND // MECHANICAL BODY — a star wars story

Coming to AO3 on May 24, 2024.

ao3 | askbox | main

[hanni-simp]

I know nothing about how the military works. I do not plan to educate myself. I will write fanfiction about military men being in the military. Will I know what I’m doing? Not at all. I will rely solely on knowledge given by other fanfictions. I will not my information up to test its accuracy.

When I write my military propaganda fanfiction I will write it as god intended, uneducated and free.

[yellowistheraddest]

one thing i wont ever get is people being attracted to fictional characters. and before youre all "yellow are you aro/ace???" NO im fine with real people but as soon as its someone fictional or a famous celebrity my brain just doesn't care about them in that way. when i love a character a lot its either the way you love your child or the way you love a bacterial culture you've been growing in a lab for several months, alternatively theres also love-hate where its the love and fascination you have when you see one of those test cars driving into a wall and getting absolutely destroyed

[orlissa]

One word prompt: imp, Darklina

The door of Aleksander’s study flew open without any warning—no-one, no-one, save from himself, came into this room without knocking and explicit permission to enter.

No-one but Alina, apparently.

She was slightly disheveled—some strands of her hair were sticking up stubbornly, there were red patches on her face, and she was panting, like she ran, no, escaped  here, which was enough to rang the alarm in his head, even though she had a smile on her lips that was downright impish.

“Alina, what is—” he started, immediately standing up from behind his desk, ready to face any foe, but she cut in.

“I’ve been here for a while, okay?” she rushed out, closing the door behind herself and resting her back against it.

Aleksander’s brows shot up nearly to his hairline. “What?”

“We have been…” she looked around frantically, her gaze settling on the unset chess table in the corner. “...playing chess, for the last hour. If anybody asks, that is. I was definitely here, with you.”

That’s when it clicked—she was looking for an alibi.

Heart rate calming and his lips pulling into a sly smile, he sat back and regarded her with a glimmer in his eyes. “That is not going to work.”

“What?” The red on her cheeks deepened.

“No-one is going to believe you have been sitting here, playing chess with me for the last hour when you are in such a state.”

Alina gaped at him, wide-eyed, for a moment, then hummed and shrugged, and said, “Then I guess I’ll need another cover story that includes more… strenuous activity.”

When Ivan—covered from head to toe in splotches of paint in a rainbow of colors—entered the room—after knocking—five minutes later and found the General in his chair, with the Sun Summoner perched on his lap, the two of them intertwined in a passionate embrace, he simply raised his eyebrows in a slightly startled, slightly judgemental way, then backed out and closed the door without a word.

[starlooove]

I rlly liked red hood the hill bc besides the gift it completely ignored everything else with the batfam which to meeee I’m taking it as the hill has been overlooked by the bats forever (see Orpheus rising) so yeah nobody there gives a fuck about those people and jason knows better than to bring that shit over there