#based on a post i can’t link bc the account is deactivated :(

[livwritesstuff]

elaborating on a throwaway line in this in which I referenced robin telling one of steddie's daughters to pull a fire alarm

So Robin and Nancy have elected to remain childless. Among other reasons, they love their jobs, and their jobs involve a lot of travel (plus women can still have happy and fulfilling lives without pursuing motherhood, blah blah blah). 

Despite not wanting children of their own, they do still like kids and love being aunts to Steve and Eddie’s daughters. They make an effort to take them off their dads’ hands for a day at least once every month or so.

The first time Robin and Nancy take all three girls, Moe is 5, Robbie is 3, and Hazel is about 6 months old. At the time, Moe and Robbie are very into being fancy – tea parties, and dressing up as princesses, and Eddie’s been on a kick of reading to them old books about tragic children – think Secret Garden and A Little Princess – and Moe’s just old enough to start getting into American Girl Dolls and she’s obsessed with Samantha (“of course she likes the fanciest one the best,” Ed had grumbled about this, “She’s you to a goddamn T, Stevie.”), so they figured that taking the girls to Boston’s Museum of Fine Arts (where Robin works as a curatorial chair) would be a good idea, because they could get all dressed up and act like proper ladies.

Secretly, Steve thought they were crazy. He and Eddie are hesitant to even bring the girls to the children’s museum these days nevermind a prestigious fine arts museum, but he’s also aware that they tend to behave a hell of a lot better around other people than they do around their dads (also, he and Eddie haven’t had a kid-free day together since even before Hazel was born, so he keeps his mouth shut).

It all goes completely smoothly, actually, up until it takes a dramatic downward spiral. They do get very dressed up, and before they head over to the museum, they have brunch at a tea room where Robin flexes the history half of her art history education to tell the girls all about “fancy people” decorum. Then, about halfway through their tour of the museum, three-year-old Robbie points at the one non-art object installed in the wall – a bright red fire alarm – and asks, “What’s that say?”

Had Nancy been asked this question, she would have said something like, “That’s a fire alarm. We only touch fire alarms if there’s a fire. If there was a fire here, you would pull the handle and it would make a loud noise so everyone knows to get out of the building.”

Unfortunately for the entire museum that Saturday afternoon, Robbie doesn’t ask Nancy.

She asks Robin.

And Robin tells her, “It says ‘pull.’”

Nancy’s call to Steve goes something like this:

“Hi. Just want to let you know before you see it on the news that your daughter managed to evacuate the entire museum.”

“What?”

“Robin told her to do it.”

“Please elaborate before I have a heart attack.”

[therealsehinton]

Not a request just a question.r u a radfem/terf bc,I see the “posts for radfems/terfs” and it’s empty and I can’t tell if u don’t like radfems/terfs or are a redfem/terf?

hi there! I’m definitely not a radfem lol. That link belonged to someone who either deleted the post or deactivated their account, but it was articles explaining how terf rhetoric is inherently racist and far from progressive—since there was a random influx of transphobia in the inner outsiders circle and yk just general tumblr terfs in general

I will say: radfem is just a term that combines the words “radical feminist”. I do 100% consider myself to be a radical feminist, and radical feminism is a significantly valuable and helpful wave of feminism in underdeveloped countries. Especially in places where women protest femicide and genital mutilation. Unfortunately, those places have very sex/afab based oppression so it becomes very easy for ppl to conflate this idea of feminism with trans exclusionary rhetoric.

That’s simply not true, I think we can easily acknowledge that trans women, cis women, and trans men go thru different forms of misogyny that can only be solved through feminism which MUST be radical. Radfem is, unfortunately, a term that got heavily co-opted by American and European cis women who simply have no idea what they’re talking about. But I don’t judge EVERYONE who labels themselves as a radfem as long as they uplift and listen to trans voices :) I just prefer the label “intersectional feminist” or “womanist”

[bts-ficrecs]

900+ BTS Fic Writers Galore! (REVAMPED)

Hello! You may or may not have seen an older version of this post/spreadsheet circulating around for the past year. You probably may not have lol

Anyway, I created a Google slide listing a whole bunch of fanfic writers on tumblr who write (or used to write) for BTS. Let’s say hypothetically we have at least 300 blogs that have written at least 2 decently sized fics for BTS... that would amount to 600 (six hundred!!!) fics just waiting to be devoured whole by you, dearest reader!!

The reality is that there are so many writers on this hellsite (affectionately or nah? lol) it’s hard to keep up with them all. That’s part of the reason why I created this in the first place. Then I thought well shiiit I spent so long on this it would be a waste not to share 💀

so without further ado, HERE’S THE LINK (I promise this isn’t spyware or whatever. It’s legit. I really do have over 900 blogs accounted for. Yes I’m aware I have no life.)

More info under the cut!

i have links to:

writers who are currently active or have gone MIA for unknown reasons or are on a hiatus

writers who have deactivated (bc i like to keep track - also when my brain short circuits and i freak out when i can’t find them it helps to remind me they gone)

writers who’ve changed their urls (a few times or 21930 times) - please use the “find” key to search for urls

some of the above writers AO3 accounts (i can’t go searching for everyone’s ok. so if you know one that i’m missing, tell me)

etc etc.

900+ writers is a lot to keep up with ok. so message me or leave a comment on the sheet if:

a link is broken or if there’s no link provided

someone deactivated or changed their url

i have someone coded/tabbed incorrectly

you know someone’s AO3 that i don’t already have up

you know a Tumblr-based BTS fic writer who isn’t on the list (so i can add them!)

i have a link to someone who isn’t a writer

also! for writers who happen upon this, if you don’t want to be here or if you don’t want your previous urls attached to your current one, do let me know and i’ll edit it asap!

P.S. let’s give 3478 rounds of applause for all fic writers out there in this world. y’all the MVPs <3

P.P.S if you have any suggestions to make the spreadsheet prettier to look at or more organized...pls. share. lol but also be prepared for me to beg u for help bc this takes way too long

[diningpageantry]

Don’t @ Me

Archive Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18215168/chapters/43092371

Chapter 1/10 of It’s A Handheld Disaster

Word Count: 3118

Fic Summary: Teenage life is hard enough, but with the added weight of their lives, both Simon and Baz thrive online in a fandom for the British crime show, Gastrell, about the genius Huxley and his "flatmate" Sam. Through Tumblr, they find each other, and sink into something more than just being mutuals.

Chapter Summary: A shitpost is taken a little too personally, and an argument breaks out. In true Baz fashion, he seeks to prove himself right in the most ridiculous way possible.

BAZ

Morning routines are the most menial shit in the realm of existence of arbitrary tasks.

Everyone seems to have them, yet nobody really has a set one. For example, my step-mum has a long, seemingly pointless hour of simply facial cleansers, serums, and hair products. When I’d asked her years ago why she does it all, she shook her head and said “You’ll never be an aging woman, Basilton.”

I couldn’t quite argue with that.

Regardless, it’s a part of life. The routines. Wake up, morning routine, morning activity, eat, afternoon activity, usually afternoon snack, evening activity, dinner, night-time activity, sleep.

A boring, underwhelming cycle of the day.

Although, I suppose it’s shittier for me, since the homeschooling doesn’t give me a chance to do much besides sit and read. Of course, I have my car and I can drive off to whatever. Hell, father even suggested I get a job to occupy myself, but I don’t quite see the point given how much money we have (and the risk factors with moving around so frequently).

So, here I am. Finishing my classes in a matter of months, then having an entire year of pointless bullshit.

Needless to say, my entire day’s routine isn’t the most thrilling. Wake up at 10 on a good day, check social media and emails, then just lay here until I can’t wait to piss. Piss. Go to eat breakfast and get greeted by screaming children and my poor step-mum trying to wrangle them in. Go upstairs, go back online, see whatever’s on my dash, reblog some shit, then try to do something vaguely productive. Check Archive, check email again. Nothing’s on the emails, ever. Text Dev and Niall, who get awfully pissed since they are in school. Get more food. Eat. Bring tea upstairs, despite the disdained look from our maid (who hates collecting my piles of mugs). Write for a couple hours. Take an afternoon nap, if I please. Wake up and sit there (again). Maybe lonely wank. Go back to the bathroom, stare at myself in the mirror for a good few minutes. Sit on the toilet for half an hour for no reason besides the fact that my phone seems more interesting while sitting there as compared to sitting in bed. Sit then on the bathroom floor doing the same thing. Go back to my bed, listen to music on my phone and work on my laptop. Write, maybe scroll. Get dinner brought to me as they tut that I should be more active. Eat. Go downstairs for an evening workout (they’re right, I shouldn’t confine myself to my bed). Come back, do exactly what I do for half the day until I pass out somewhere around 3 am. Repeat.

Dream life for an 17 year old. Social life of a god.

Somewhat.

It’s shit to say (and sort of embarrassing to share) that there’s sort of a social media presence around me. Not quite the Instagram model bullshit, but based around fan life.

Yes, it’s a laughing stock. That’s where my popularity lies--a mixed grab-bag of various ages gathering around various platforms to enthuse about certain topics. And I’m somehow lucky enough to have the slightest bit of popularity here.

As in, a large following. A large, somehow active following.

It isn’t exactly thrilling as one would like to think. Sure, it’s fun to see a scattered group of regulars pop up, and I have my mutuals, but it’s a sad existence to sit around and make various shitposts with nothing better to occupy my mind. Or, at least, that’s what Dev and Niall tell me.

All in all, I blame Fiona. She’s the one who got me into the show, saying she thought the character was a bit like me. After I saw it, I found the three connections she’d grasped at.

Gay, dark-haired, and violinist.

As if that’s a rarity.

Yet, surely enough, I did love it. The cinematography, the characters, the storyline. It was intriguing--captivating.

It doesn’t hurt that the online community was still on the smaller side when I first got there. The show was only a season in when I made my blog, and I’ve stuck through all this bullshit to get me here. One of the regulars. Reposted everywhere, uncredited usually. Big fics, large interactions. Shitposts with thousands upon thousands of notes. I’m recognizable; a suggested name.

Don’t get me wrong, the attention is spectacular. I love interacting with people beyond this depressing household, and they’re usually fairly nice (usually) (except those ravenous for an argument). It’s just awkward to share at times when people ask why your mobile’s got 99+ symbols next to the apps and you just shrug and say “I’m shit at checking it” to avoid the conversation because most people see it as childish.

It’s a shame, really. Especially since I feel emotionally attached to these goddamn fictional fuckers.

I suppose that’s what makes it all the more personal, then. Even the shitposts mean something to me.

Which is what makes this is a long, winded way of saying fuck whoever’s arguing with me about whether or not Huxley is a fucking Ravenclaw. (He is. Hands down.) How’d I get here, staring at my mobile in disbelief at a brief back and forth post turned fight? Because it feels like a reasonable question to wonder.

I got here because, as almost all mornings, I woke up, opened my phone, read my notifs, then sat here, thinking of something. Anything. Then, in a tired haze, typed out a single text post on tumblr.

huxley gastrell is a ravenclaw send tweet

Following so, I went about my typical morning. Of course. Then--then--I check my phone as I’m going downstairs and I see it. I see the “@bi-sammy mentioned you in a post!” notif, then read the God-forsaken reblog.

@gaystrell op do you take criticism on your posts?

I frowned at my phone, typing out a quick response before tucking it back into my pocket.

@bi-sammy no.

What I hadn’t anticipated, though, was the reply I’d open up to soon after I’d started poking at my morning meal.

@gaystrell well too bad bc ur WRONG and ur opinions are UGLY

#he’s clearly a slytherin this is slytherin oppression #don’t tell me he and bryonie aren’t from a slytherin family

Now I sit, staring and completely awestruck at such a post. Now, I won’t deny Bryonie Gastrell is definitely, in all possible ways, a Slytherin. Cunning and ambitious as fuck, as any political spy may be, but fuck anyone who tries to dismiss Huxley’s clear Ravenclaw leanings.

It takes me a moment to fully process, mouth robotically chewing my eggs as I contemplate my answer.

@bi-sammy there is absolutely no proof of huxley being a slytherin and more than enough support towards him being a ravenclaw. get your clueless negativity off my blog, you utter tit.

With that, I settle my phone face down onto my table and try to enjoy my lovely plate of scrambled eggs, barely ignoring the boiling of my blood.

SIMON

My phone lights up with the new notification, dragging my attention away from my laptop as the words slide down onto the screen. “@gaystrell mentioned you in a post!” I hate to admit that I get a little pattering in my heart, urging my hand out to grasp the mobile as I pause the Youtube video currently playing. As I read his words, I slowly blink out of my excitement.

Tit. He called me a bloody tit.

Of course this fucking wanker called me a tit.

He must think that since he’s this big bad blogger, he can call me a tit right out in the open. (Although, he is talking to me, so that’s a plus) (No! No no no, bad validation, Simon. Bad). What, with his thousands of followers and fans of his own, he thinks he can try to say shit out in the open?

Fuck it. He’s either getting a DM or a bloody fist fight from me. I’ll take a train to wherever the fuck he lives (which is somewhere in England, since that’s what his bio says) (and his aunt lives in London, since he’s posted about visiting her) (I really do wonder where he’s from and how close he might be--what if I run into him one day?) (No wait fuck I don’t want that anymore).

Clicking on his blog, the little person drop down gives me the option of a message. I barely think as I type it out, vision going spotty from the adrenaline of the twinging anger.

bi-sammy: i swear to god there was no point to the battle of hogwarts if you’re just going to go around and absolutely slander the slytherin name and dare say that huxley is not one of them and, rather, is a ravenclaw

At first, I grin at it, watching my lone message appear into the empty chat. It’s so freeing--so powerful to send it. I pride myself, in the moment, for this solid move of communication. Of course I’m fucking proud. I messaged the arse myself and gave him a space to fight.

Maybe Penny’s right, I should dial down the confrontation, but it’s just the internet. Nothing important happens through a stupid little argument over Huxley’s true Hogwarts house (although, I’m sure I know I’m right in my heart), but it is a bit of fun to fuck around with someone. It’s a distraction. And that’s why I’m here, afterall. To have a distraction.

Penny thinks it’s a bit silly, but she doesn’t really complain. All she’s ever said was  “I thought we left fandom stuff behind us when we were 14.” She said it over lunch, watching me scroll through my at-the-time new tumblr.

It’s funny, I thought I did leave it behind when I was younger. It seemed unneeded as life shifted. I’d just found a stable foster home, with someone who was going to keep me for a while. I found Penny a couple months before I deactivated my old account. I was happy; we were free. I didn’t need a venting place.

Shits been sort of hitting the fan recently, though. No uni plans, David’s been getting more controlling, and of course, Agatha dumping me. It all crashed on top of me a few months ago, and somehow, the only place that I could find healthy coping was online. So, I started fresh. Made a blog and settled in. It’s not big, but I’ve had a few posts get noticed. I have a good few hundred followers, and one nice anon who asks me how I am every few weeks. It’s not a lot, but it’s comforting.

I feel at home here, even with a little discourse.

Well, only when the discourse is answered. Which, in this situation, I don’t know if it will be, given it’s been over an hour now and Baz hasn’t answered.

If that’s even his name.

It’s what his bio says, at least.

baz. 17. cisguy (he/him). gay. don’t interact if you think huxley is remotely straight.

I’ve wondered for a while what Baz stands for. He refuses to answer it in asks; he always says it’s too personal. He’s sort of odd like that--never posts pictures of anything that could be linked back. Seems sort of creepy, but then again, a lot of people follow him. It’s reasonable to want space.

Maybe that’s why he’s not answering. He probably wants space of some sort, but it’d be at least decent to answer someone who tried to have a discussion (that’s at least what I’m calling that message I sent--a discussion starter).

I frown at my phone, keeping it on silent as I slide it into my front pocket and settle into my seat in maths. I’ll say it--I sulk in class, a little bitter that I don’t have his attention (despite the fact that he seems like he’s always active online, which seems odd). Eventually, I exhale and try to let it slip away. There went my one interaction with him. My few seconds of the weirdest fucking bliss online, gone.

Then, it happens. As the class is ending, I pull out my screen just enough to see and there it is. A clear notification telling me he’d answered. Oddly enough, it’s just him sending me a link to a Google Doc.

Weird.

I ignore it for the moment being, letting myself ride the wave of relaxation that I actually got a reply. It passes my mind until I’m sitting in the back of Agatha’s car, listening to Penny and Aggie in the front talking about whatever’s on their mind. The rides are sort of awkward as of recently. At least Agatha agreed to drive me home (it’s a good 45 minute walk, if not) after some convincing from Penny, but her and I don’t really chat. It’s just the two of them.

Given that time, I have a chance to pull out my mobile and thumb through what was sent.

gaystrell: https://docs.google.com/document/d/175qFASmqD7hey8lE0eoE-6VhhFYE9DP6bpnI32Aay98/edit?usp=sharing

I click on it, not expecting that much (or, really, not expecting anything at all). Yet, the second it pops up and loads, my jaw drops.

“Jesus fuck,” I say aloud, scrolling through it. Penny turns her head, frowning as I stay locked on my screen.

“What? What’s wrong?”

“No--no nothing,” I say, waving a hand. “It’s nothing.”

“It’s got to be something for that reaction,” she says, keeping turned in her seat as she eyes me up. “Just tell us, Si.”

“I mean it when I say it’s nothing.” My voice gets quieter as I shift, reading the title. “It’s just fandom stuff. It’s really nothing.”

I hear her disgruntled huff as she turns back, mumbling something about me reacting too dramatically to this. “It isn’t even real.” It’s said under her breath, yet it still rings clear in my ears.

It isn’t really fake, either.

Hell, this is six pages of real. “Why Huxley Gastrell is, Without a Doubt, a Ravenclaw”. Shared by Basilton Pitch (is that his actual name?!). Fucking hell, it’s detailed to no ends. You’d think, with this much writing, there’d be pages of pointless filler where he’d just type “im gay hi huxley is also a gay we’re all gay here aren’t we”, but no. It’s full, grammatically correct sentences detailing his points.

It’s a bit much to read in the car, so I settle my mobile face down onto the seat as I’m left reeling. That… was a bit more than I’d expected.

Shit, did he write that for me?

This isn’t real. This can’t be real.

BAZ

Whoever says that having a flair for the dramatics is pointless has clearly never met me, because I wouldn’t quite call this masterpiece of an essay “pointless”. In fact, I should send it to academics. Rename it “A Study In Multi-Dimensional Characters and their Associated Generalized Personality Traits”. I’ll be hailed as a genius, as I deserve to be.

I crack my knuckles, and see the little person pop up.

Surely enough, it’s @bi-sammy’s name that he has listed online, Simon. It’s curious, he has his last name listed as “Snow”. Although, the smallest part of me believes it’s a pseudonym. Given our interactions, I doubt he’s clever enough to think of a solid pseudonym. And, even at that, why pick Snow?

Either way, it’s surprisingly endearing. Simon Snow. Sounds sweet. Sounds innocent.

I watch his cursor turn on, then his icon goes grey after a few moments. My heart starts to trip, making my cheeks begin to flush. Is… he ignoring this?

No. He can’t be. I put in hard work and dedication into this work, and I deserve the respect I’d sent into it. Fucking hell, three fully developed points (his devotion to intellectual work, his effort to step out of public light for Sam’s sake, and his overall lack of ambition for moving forward). I clearly set it out, and ended it properly; I’d proven that Huxley is a Ravenclaw. Case and point, opinion made, the end.

And, here I sit, watching him have the audacity to open it up then close it back. That was my hard work put in there, and he closes it? Who in the name of all that is sacred thinks he’s that above other people to the point where he just ignores--

Oh. He’s back on. Nevermind.

He’s… probably a school student. It’s roughly the time that most classes end, I suppose.

I make a mental apology to him, despite having never ranted directly to him in the first place.

He stays active for a good bit; long enough to show he’s reading. I assume that he’d just close off and message me, but after minutes, I notice a little highlighted comment pop up on the last sentence.

Simon Snow i………. owe you every single possible apology

Each word makes me grin like I haven’t in a while. A wide, cheek-creasing grin. There’s something so sweet to that--so personal. It feels like a note passed to me in a classroom under the tables. Like a cute “Blink if you like me”, although I doubt he has quite an intention.

Nevertheless, it warms my chest, sending my head back as I smile. I’m not sure whether or not it’s the satisfaction of winning, or his words, but I laugh outwardly into the room. It stays with me, reverberating onto my skin and my throat.

I look back at the comment, then leave it untouched. If he won’t remove it, then I won’t either.

With a glance at our personal messages tab, I figure that’s that. Even field, no more argument. No more interaction. It’s a bit of a shame, given the effort I’d just extorted for his sake, that he hasn’t answered in our chat.

While I’m disappointed to close off the document, I smile at it one last time. Sometimes I have to move on from random people, especially when they come on a bit strong.

Except, I find, moments later that I’m wrong about one thing--the moving on. He didn’t just stop his interaction, but instead made a public post.

“@bi-sammy mentioned you in a post!”

This time, I really laugh. A full bellied, hand-covering-mouth laugh.

i guess i have to suck @gayhuxell’s cock now because i was wrong and the bloody arse was right. huxley is a ravenclaw.

#fuck me i guess

I take a minute, rereading over his words a few times before typing a simple answer with my reblog.

i’m available anytime behind a mcdonald’s parking lot

[bts-ficrecs]

900+ BTS Fic Writers Galore!

hello. you are fic hungry, are you? you are looking for more content, yes? well then! HERE YOU GO!!!

here is a spreadsheet listing a LOT of fan fic writers on tumblr who’ve written at least 1 BTS-centered fic. and by “a LOT” i mean almost 1k... 933 to be exact (as of october 15 2020 anyway).

so. nobody gets to complain that they got nuthin good to read bc let. me. tell. you. 900+ writers with at LEAST 2 BTS stories posted is. A. LOT. of stories to read!!!!

i have (unique identifier) links to:

writers who are currently active or have gone MIA for unknown reasons or are on a hiatus

writers who have deactivated (bc i like to keep track - also when my brain short circuits and i freak out when i can’t find them it helps to remind me they gone)

writers who’ve changed their urls (a few times or 21930 times) - please use the “find” key to search for urls

some of the above writers AO3 accounts (i can’t go searching for everyone’s ok. so if you know one that i’m missing, tell me)

etc etc.

- link under the cut -

(oh my glob can you imagine if i included all the BTS AO3 fic writers as well dajfalkjhae my fingers and my eyes would die.)

900+ writers is a lot to keep up with ok. so message me or leave a comment on the sheet if:

a link is broken or if there’s no link provided

someone deactivated or changed their url

i have someone coded incorrectly

you know someone’s AO3 that i don’t already have up

you know a Tumblr-based BTS fic writer who isn’t on the list (so i can add them!)

i have a link to someone who isn’t a writer

without further ado, here’s a link to my spreadsheet :) feel free to share it around! i’ve made it so anyone can comment on there.

also! for writers who happen upon this, if you don’t want to be here or if you don’t want your previous urls attached to it, do let me know and i’ll edit it asap!

P.S. let’s give 3478 rounds of applause for all fic writers out there in this world. y’all the MVPs <3

P.P.S if you have any suggestions to make the spreadsheet prettier to look at or more organized...pls. share. lol