#and basically just slop 24/7 and well!

[shangyang]

let's talk about fic

buckle up boyos, this one's long AND rambly. there's a TLDR at the very end for those of you who don't wanna read all this, but still wanna get my main point. you can scroll to that.

i feel compelled to talk about this, if only because my timeline has been an insane back and forth whiplash between people (rightfully!) lauding and praising a piece of fanfiction, and the ongoing discourse in fandom regarding the complete and total lack of respect fic and fic authors are given (which has been amplified, seemingly, as of late.)

WRITING IS ART. WRITING-IS-FUCKING-ART. writing is a craft honed over years. some people are more naturally skilled, others must work a bit harder at it. some people have no skill with it, but continue to do it nonetheless. but regardless, writing is an art because what writing seeks to do is connect people on an emotional level. can we acknowledge that? that writing is art? in the "real world" (as in, not the online, fan-run spaces), writing is so much of an artform that there are innumerable different internationally recognized awards for it: the Hugo awards. the Nobel prizes. booker awards. Pulitzer prizes. the list goes on and on and on.

the ability to write is a skill - just like the ability to draw. both are ones that are honed more by the intake of other works of art, and ones that are honed through a sort of stylistic cannibalism. i cannot name an artist or writer whose style is not, in some way, inspired by hundreds of other artists and writers that drew and wrote before them. when you look at a renaissance painting in a museum, you are looking at a life's worth of blood, sweat, tears, and study. when you pick up a copy of that latest, greatest many-times-over acclaimed novel, you are ALSO looking at a life's worth of blood, sweat, tears, and study. rome wasn't built in a day. and the parable of the sower certainly didn't spring, fully formed, from Octavia Butler's head one day. that's just not how these things work.

but let's move away from the art definition. i don't believe that anyone reading this would deny that the examples I've listed - those legitimized by their status as published and acclaimed works in their respective artistries - cannot be considered works of art worthy of both respect and praise. but let's talk about fanworks, instead.

i think there's a kind of disrespect baked in to the idea of being a fan artist and fan writer: ultimately, in the "real world" fanworks are always disrespected once they breach containment, so to speak. it's in both the little and big ways: the ways actors and writers attached to a beloved IP might react when confronted with fanfiction written about them (looking at YOU, Jensen Ackles), or even the way your parents might have reacted when they found out that, in fact, you were reading and writing fanfiction on the family computer instead of doing the Kumon exercises you were supposed to be doing. there's a de-legitimacy assigned to the simple act of playing in a sandbox that's not yours, and a kind of ridicule heaped upon you for daring to step into it. i know we all understand it - if you create OR consume fanworks, you have lived through this experience before.

but make no mistake: there is a difference in the way fanfic and fanart is treated in fandom, especially today. i really can't speak to why - i can only make my own, biased guesses: art is viewed as something people either can or can't do - so it becomes almost divinely ordained, in a way - meanwhile a lot of people look at a piece of fanfiction and think "WELL, I CAN DO THAT TOO," since in some paradoxical sense, writing is viewed as the easier of the artforms, not instead as an equally as challenging one. but i also think the legitimacy conferred to fanart in fan spaces has as much to do with all that as it does the fact that fanart is PROFITABLE, and fanfiction is…not so much. or, at least, when fanfiction DOES become profitable, it does so at the risk of turning the writer into an object of ridicule both within fan communities and outside of them, in the "real world." that containment breach is nothing to laugh at, folks.

when i say this, i think a lot about conventions, commissions, and portfolios. you can get a job as a concept artist, a storyboarder, and any other number of art-related jobs within the creative field by drawing fan art. storyboarders who create fan animatics prove that they have a keen eye for movement and dynamic shot composition. fanartists with enough skill can be hired to do splashes and spreads for gacha games, comic book covers, or even social media advertising posts. and most of all, fan artists have the ability to commercialize their fanart through the creation of merch: prints, charms - the whole shebang. it's an awesome way for artists to capitalize off a skill they've spent decades honing, while also getting to create more art for the shows, books, and comics that they love. i LOVE conventions. i love seeing fanmerch for my favorite shows. i love getting to see how happy artists are to make those kinds of connections - but i also think that ability to profit and profit without severe risk of judgement from outsiders (so to speak; and this is not to erase the fact that anime conventions and other "nerdy" fan gatherings are still the subject of ridicule outside of those who enjoy them) has a tendency to legitimize fanart and fanartists more than fanfiction writers. there is a clear value to the time that artists spend on their fanworks. no such clear value assignment exists for fic writers, who live and die instead by the attention economy, and the often quite fickle whims of the readers who fuel it.

if a fanfic is written, it is done for free. and often only in the writer's free time. there is very little chance that a fic writer can capitalize off of their love of a fandom - even slimmer of a chance that they can make a career of it. while the creation of fanart can also sometimes toe the murky line of legality, the creation of fanworks explicitly for profit is much more of a risky endeavor. look up the anne rice lawsuits, and read up on AO3's reasons for creation, as well as what the site's parent org, Organization for Transformative Works does - all 3 searches should give you a decent idea as to why the idea of profiting off of fanfiction is taboo, and often akin to courting some kind of lawsuit. not to mention, to profit off of your fanfiction can often mean losing the ability to post on ao3 at all, as the archive's TOS forbids conducting "any commercial activity" on the website. selling of fanfiction published on it included.

all of this is a long winded way of getting to the main point: if you enjoy fandom, if you love it and you love participating in it, actively and passively, you had better SHUT UP about fanfiction writers. fanfic writers are the backbone of a community - one of the oldest recorded fandoms, the Trekkies, organized and brought fanworks to the modern age through the creation of handmade zines - many of which contained primarily fanfiction about kirk and spock. (thank you trek grannies) but more than that, regardless of skill level, competence, or even general coherence of plot, you ought to respect the fact that fanfiction is created - for free - as a labor of love, same as we do for fan artists.

i understand the kneejerk reaction to paint fanfiction as "junk food," and something unrefined and sloppy. but the thing is, that's not the case for all fanfiction. there is fanfiction that people have plotted and carefully planned, written with more eloquence and skill than authors legitimately published today. but there are also hobbyists who just throw words on the doc and call it a day. both are legitimate. but we don't see people calling hobbyist fanartists work "junk food" and "slop." we respect that the artists do this for fun, and in their own free time. why is fanfiction and the writers behind it not afforded the same, basic dignity and understanding?

if you want to exist in a fandom where no writing is created, fine. keep talking the way you do - keep pushing writers away, and discouraging new, young fans from dipping their toes into fanfiction writing. but in doing so, you cut fandom off at the knees. there's some saying about bridges, and how they can't stand while halved and, well, it applies here. you can't have fandom with just artists. and you sure as hell can't have fandom that's just made up of sour-mouthed assholes who have no other contributions to the community other than lip service and other, worthless bullshit. fandom exists because writers, artists, and observers come together to create it.

a tldr for those of you who don't want to read all that: unless you wanna start making your own damn food, shut the fuck up and get out of the kitchen. for all that you mouth off about how bad fic is, i don't see you writing it! so either do it yourself, or shut up, exit the page, and find something better to do with your clear overabundance of time. maybe get a job. or touch grass. i don't know. but stop making your lack of creativity fanfic writers' problems.

[shrapnelstars]

Jack wanting to retire from youtube doesn't surprise me. I've gotten that vibe from him for the past 5 years or so, which is the same time frame he mentioned in the video.

While there's a lot of good that's come from the paradigm shift on youtube (now home to many creative independent series and animations as well as a great place for documentaries and literary analyses), I definitely understand what he means about how it's no longer the relaxed environment that it was up until 2015. You basically have to have all your shit together from the start now, and basically be a one-man professional broadcast setup if you want to do anything anymore, which isn't fair to anyone who wants to relax and upload just for the fun of it.

I mentioned this a few years ago during the pandemic, but especially with the retirement of MatPat and several others, the era of individual personalities just goofing off and drawing an audience based on that is kind of over. You have to be making something specific now, kinda. Either that, or be relegated to grinding algo-slop/reactions. You can't just be "you". You need to be "the person that does X", with "X" as the focus of the channel, not the human who makes it. You need to be working 24/7, or youtube will start cracking the whip and intentionally instilling anxiety with the metrics warnings.

As much as I miss that bright eyed and bushy tailed era of youtube that Jack is talking about, with people just laughing and being silly and not having too much of a care in the world, I'm starting to be at peace with it's death, and if Jack wants to retire, I want him to find something that makes him happy and move on with his life. He said he only has 2 years max left in him. I say that that's way more than I was expecting, in a good way.

While Mark, Jack, and MatPat helped me get through a very difficult portion of my life (horrible college and horrible job), I'm more and more alright with the final vestiges of that phase finally shutting down. One of my favorite bands finally retired last year, too. I'd rather my favorite entertainers and artists retire on their own terms, moving on to something happy, than crashing or burning out in frustration.

[mounikadivvu-blog]

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[kyojinofbraveos]

Long Tag Game Thingy

So I got tagged in tag games many times... Here is a complete post of it!

Game 1:

rules: answer the 20 questions and tag 20 amazing followers you’d like to get to know better!! I was tagged by @shitpost-no-kyojin , @kaschy , @jacaraandaas , @eldian-scum and I guess @sluttttysurveycorps ? Anyways, thank you all and sorry if I forgot that you tagged me!

Name: Berfin

Nicknames: Berfo, berf, berfike and god knows how many else...

Zodiac Sign: Capricorn

Height: 1.70 m

Orientation:

Het

Nationality: Soup

Fave fruit: Mandarin

Favorite Season: W I N T E R  - S P R I N G. I miss you babe, come back!

Fave book: How dare? I do not choose between my children.

Fave flower: Poppies

Coffee, tea or hot chocolate? : TEA. TEA. TEA. Always.

Average sleep hours: 8+

Cat or a dog person : Cats for sure! 

Fave fictional character: Ymir my goddess is always a first, though I feel Bertolt on a spiritual level in these days where temperature is 40+ degrees and I sweat like Colossal Titan.

Number of blankets you sleep: None. Even wearing clothes make me melt these days.

Dream trip : Travelling the world has always been my dream. 

Blog created: 2016!

I am tagging anyone who wants to do this.

Game 2:

I was tagged by @xleviiiix to answer her questions. Thanks!

1. What do you love most about your blogs?

Well, it is more like an archieve of my own. A place where I feel comfortable.

2. Favorite Anime/manga

Is this a trick question lmao ofc Shingeki no Kyojin!

3. If you had to pick between living in a hot area vs a cold area, which would you pick?

I’d kill to go some place cooler. I. AM. MELTING.

4. Small things that cheer you up

Snk, tea, air condition, music, art, rain, dancing, cool air, spending time with my friends, wind, hot chocolate.

5. Favorite drink

Tea. Ice tea these days.

6. Rain or snow?

AME! Rain!

7. If you could, what color would your eyes be?

Hmm, I think brown is going just fine for me! But green eyes would be cool, I guess?

8. What species would you like to be besides being human?

I’d be a whale! Maybe... A Space whale? I made my cameo at new opening already.

9. Name your pet peeves

I am getting really angry when people act cocky to me. Yeah, we get it. You know something. Stop pleasing your ego because you know something more than others. I also am getting really angry when people make weird noises around me, I want to hit their mouth. Especially, when people slop while eating food. Just. Stop. Other than that, I don’t like many people in general. Fiction is right on one thing, we people suck lmao.

10. PizzaHut or Dominoes or Papa Johns!

PizzaHut! This question made me want a pizza lmao

11. Things you love and hate about tumblr

This is a weird website you know. All those art and creative content you see is really cool, you meet with very cool and talented people here too but there are some very wrong stuff going on here. Like, being a hetero person is considered as a bad thing and all heteros are evil? Why? Makes no sense whatsoever. I totally understand the troubles lgbt+ people are facing but aren’t they doing what has been done to them to heteros on tumblr? There are also a black and white world view going on, people do not have respect to each other. They send hate anonymously and even rant about other people on other websites, like twitter, just because that person didn’t agree with them? Just because they have a different idea? Shame, shame, shame. Basically, people need to stop acting like they are the heroes of their narratives and stop hurting people for idiot reasons. Can’t you see how idiotic this is? Like: I want this two characters to fuck, if you want that person a to not fuck with person b but with another person c, I’ll rant and send hate to you with my friends. And does this make sense? If it does, you should stop being on internet and go see a therapist. Ah, and there is this white ppl/ others thing. I am not even getting started on that. Wow. I am so fulled about this topic lmao. A

I don’t want to write questions because I am lazy.

Game 3: 

I was tagged by @pureren to do A-Z game! Thank you!

A- age: 19 B- birthplace: The capital of dankland C- current time: 13:24 D- drink you last drank: tsatsiki 

E- easiest person to talk to:  @all-my-ships-are-snking ilu hoe. Also @momtaku . F- favorite song:  ( x ) this has been my number one for days! Also I really love this G- grossest memory: So I was 7 year old and just began to school. Since our school’s bathrooms were really dirty, it was really disgusting for me to go there and our home was not really close to school. So I was holding myself not to pee and like, it got really hard for me one day but I need to wait until school was over then started to ran home but ofc... ı failed and peeid in front of everyone. Ah, and I once step on horse poop. H- horror yes or no?  I am mostly laughing at horror movies lol I- in love? Never fall in love before. J- jealous of people? Nope, I don’t think so. But sometimes I got jealous of my friends when strangers pay too much attention to them. This is a bad childish habit I am trying to kill,  K- killed someone? ???? Take a wild guess   ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

L- love at first sight or should I walk past again? Don’t waste your time it is hard to conquer my heart. M- middle name: berfin is my middle name actually!  N- number of siblings: 1 O- one wish? Travelling the world and getting the hell out of Turkey. P- person you last called? An irl friend of mine. Q- question you’re always asked: So... whe will you get a college? R- reason to smile: season 3 will be out next april?? I know this is not official yet but this makes me happy af! S- song you last sang: here T- time you woke up: 11 am. I woke up late  U- underwear color: white. V- vacation: Unfortunetely, I am still in this hell. Burning. For my sins. W- worst habit: biting my nails X- x-rays: Why is this a question???? Y- your favourite food: soups in general Z- zodiac sign: Capricorn

I am tagging anyone who wants to do this!

[embracetheapocalypsewithme]

Embracing the Apocalypse, Part 6: A Faint Whiff of Bullshit in the Air

Summary: Negan has impure thoughts about a certain green-eyed cutie, but battles away the urges with spaghetti. Lying to yourself is easier when you're carbo-loading.

Word count: 1,494

Warnings: Smut, Negan, Negan being Negan, Comic Negan being Comic Negan, oral sex, and inadequate pasta.

Part 1: The Tale of Thelma Facefuck

Part 2: What’s Up, Doc?

Part 3: A Successful Job Interview Begins with a Firm Handshake and Ends with a Salty Surprise

Part 4: A Crack in Everything

Part 5: Sorting Duty Sucks

Part 6: A Faint Whiff of Bullshit in the Air

Part 7: Turn and Face the Strange

Part 8: Poor Life Choices

Part 9: 8.5 out of 10

Part 10: No Plan

Part 11: Negan Settles Rebecca’s Hash

Part 12: I know Where That Hand Has Been, Negan

Part 13: Gimme Danger

Part 14: The Loneliest Hours of the Morning

Part 15: Well, Fuck You Too, Kitty!

Part 16: That Escalated Quickly

Part 17: Well Fuck Me Gently with a Chainsaw

Part 18: Shards of Glass

Part 19: Donkey Heaven

Part 20: Morphine Dream

Part 21: Promises to Keep

Part 22: Are You a Killer?

Part 23: That the Hill You Want to Die On?

Part 24: Keeping Up Appearances

Part 25: Bird on a Wire

As always, you can read it below the cut, or by clicking this lovely link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/8807527/chapters/20855636

Tags: @unicorn-blood-splatter​ @negans-dirty-girl​ @opheliadawnwalker3​ @negans-network​ (If you want to be added to a tag list, let me know!)

 Part 5: A Faint Whiff of Bullshit in the Air

When he had opened the door to the janitor’s closet, Negan had expected to catch one of the Sanctuary’s citizens in the act. Which act, he wasn’t entirely sure. Fucking? Smoking? Drinking maybe? 

Finding Rebecca hadn’t been quite the scandalous conclusion he had hoped for, but he couldn’t necessarily say that he was disappointed either. Her eyes were bloodshot, making their green colour appear even more brilliant. 

Were those tears rimming the corners? She had claimed that her allergies were acting up, but he thought he detected a faint whiff of bullshit in the air. As they spoke he began to analyze her mannerisms, looking for any indication of the issues “Doctor” Krouse had mentioned earlier. He found none. 

Her tone was jovial and even a little bit playful. She seemed relatively at ease, even teasing him about his name again. He watched her walk away for the second time that morning, enjoying how her hips swayed back and forth before his eyes. 

Her comments about “the man upstairs” going down on her had conjured up some fun images for his brain to contemplate. Most of them were of her perched on the edge of his bed, bare legs spread open for him as he knelt before her and teased her clit with his tongue. He could almost hear her moans as he felt another pang of arousal hit him, this one even stronger than the last.

(bet she tastes sweet like honey)

(damnit, you idiot! stop this shit! you can’t)

As she neared the end of the hall, he noticed Rebecca’s pace slow. She stopped dead in her tracks and stood rigidly, her whole body tense. He considered for a brief moment that maybe she was going back into the state she had been in when she arrived at the Sanctuary. He had no clue how this shit worked. Did people just pop in and out of being catatonic?

After what felt like a very long time, but had probably only been a few moments, her body relaxed. He thought that he heard her whisper, “Oh, fuck me!” to herself, but she was far away and it was hard to be sure.

(wishful thinking probably) 

Her shoulders raised and lowered as if she had taken a deep breath. She resumed her journey, turning around a corner and out of sight.

(weird. but nothing too strange. probably forgot something in her room. maybe she’s not as fucked up as brad thinks)

He shrugged and turned in the opposite direction from where Rebecca had gone. He had business to attend to.

The remainder of his day consisted of meetings with scouts and scavengers, debriefings with supervisors, and planning sessions with the Saviors. He had forgotten how many details there were to go over just to keep the place running on a basic level. There were supplies to find and infrastructure to maintain. 

Now that they had to barter fairly, rather than shaking down the nearby communities for half of their shit, it was all that much harder to keep going. Every day was like an eternal struggle just for the basic necessities, and he was at the centre of it all, orchestrating every detail. By the time dinner rolled around, Negan was equal parts exhausted and hungry, but opted to get reacquainted with his bed before even thinking about food.

His private room still bore many of the decorations that had been there during his first stint as leader: deep red chairs and a sofa, a four-poster bed with dark sheets, bookcases, and a fireplace. Sherry hadn’t bothered to change everything after taking over, it seemed.

(could it fucking be that she didn’t actually hate my taste in everything after all?)

He kicked off his boots and sat on the bed before deciding to lie down for a moment. He just needed to close his eyes and rest. A nap would be perfect. He would tune the world out for a while, and then he could deal with dinner.

But as he tried to allow his body to slip into sleep, Negan found that his brain would not settle down. Images of green eyes, teasing smiles, and curvy hips flashed before him in the darkness behind his eyelids. The pangs of arousal were relentless now. He could feel the crotch of his pants tighten over his hard cock as he thought about soft lips murmuring in his ear, kissing his neck, trailing down his chest and stomach to finally taste him.

“Fuck!”

He sat up quickly, pissed off at himself now. This was stupid. He had just met this girl; had only spoken to her twice in his life. She wasn’t even really his type. She was too cutesy and petite and he felt like he could crush her beneath his large frame without even trying. But he had to admit that there was something about her that made him feel like he simultaneously wanted to protect her from the world, whilst absolutely defiling her with his cock.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fucking fuck.”

He swivelled around with an annoyed groan until his legs were dangling over the edge of the bed. He knew that sleep was going to be impossible, but he didn’t want to give into his brain’s urge to jerk off right now. Deciding that food would be more productive than trying to sleep, he slipped out of the bed and put his boots back on before making his way down to the building’s cafeteria. Dinner was just about to be served.

***

The cafeteria was harshly lit, crowded, and noisy. Benches and long tables filled the expanse of the room. Today’s meal was “spaghetti”, according to the menu board. The dish appeared to consist of overcooked noodles and under-seasoned sauce from a tin, and it tasted like something usually fed to patients recovering from surgery. 

But it was food. That was something to be treasured in this world, at least. 

Normally he ate quickly in his room and spent his nights reading or bullshitting with his Saviors over a glass of scotch, though the latter option had become somewhat rare lately. Some of the old Saviors who had survived the war were still around, and new recruits had been added to their ranks during his absence, but it seemed like the dynamic had changed somehow. Most of them tended to avoid socializing with their “fearless leader”, so he was mostly on his own in the evenings. Hell, the even scotch supplies had started to dwindle, much to his disdain.

Tonight he would try eating in the cafeteria. Maybe he would even make a friend. Grabbing his plate and cutlery, Negan scanned the room for a place to sit. Without fully being conscious of it, he looked for dark hair with faded red at the tips. Finding no friendly or familiar faces in the crowd, he sat in a corner and ate his meal slowly and unenthusiastically in silence. By the time he had finished eating, the room was beginning to empty and the kitchen crew had started to pack up the leftovers. It was then that he realized he hadn’t seen Rebecca come down to eat yet.

(it’s not that i was looking for her. i’m just a perceptive guy. that’s all. i have to be to keep this place running. can’t have people fucking starving on my watch)

His inner pep-talk had nearly helped him convince himself that he hadn’t, in fact,  decided to eat in the cafeteria for the sole purpose of running into Rebecca again. He stood and made his way to the kitchen’s counter where a man with a mustache and graying temples was packing up for the night.

“Hey,” Negan began.

“What do you want?” the man asked with a hostile look.

“Give me some spaghetti in a container...to go.”

The man smirked, “What’s the magic word?”

Negan’s eyes narrowed, “The magic word? Oh, I guess that would have to be FUCKING NOW, DICKFACE!” he was raising his voice and making a scene. Several groups of stragglers began to get up from their tables and vacate the room, hoping to avoid being caught in the middle of a fight.

A female voice from the back of the kitchen called out to Mr. Mustache, “For Christ’s sake, Ed! Give the man a fucking plate and be done with it.”

“Yeah, Ed. Give the man a fucking plate,” Negan said flatly. Then, in a lower, menacing tone: “And don’t spit in the shit either. It’s not for me.”

Ed began angrily slopping noodles and sauce into a container before slamming it down on the counter as hard as he could without breaking it.

“Gee. Thanks, Eddy. Have a magical evening!” he called over his shoulder after picking up the container and walking toward the exit.

He made his way from the cafeteria to the room that he knew “Doctor” Krouse occupied on the second floor, and knocked on the door. After a few moments he heard rustling from within. The door opened a crack and the paramedic-turned-“Doctor” peered out at him.

“Oh, hello there. I wasn’t expecting anyone tonight. Uh…nice to see you again.”

“Don’t worry about it. I just need to get some information from you,” he held up the container of sad-looking pasta, “Got a delivery to make.”