#i wish tumblr would just fucking delete those posts honestly

[super-duper-stupor]

Just so you guys know I will never EVER reblog those fear inducing "reblog this or so and so will happen to you" kind of posts. Nah I'm not gonna put that fear in y'all😑

[mrsjavierpena]

All the roads lead to a jar of pickles | Pickled Peña

summary: Javier keeps finding promises to make every New Year's Eve

pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader

warnings: fluff, alusions to smut, mentions of narcos, no use of y/n, just javi being so in love and receiving the love he deserves

word count: 4k (yeah i got carried away

IMPORTANT: English is not my first language, i've done my best with grammar but there will be mistakes (fuck prepositions i hate them), so pls overlook those

an: this is a one shot to the @pickled-pena writing challenge! i was super excited to write this and it was indeed a challenge since tumblr decided to delete what i wrote twice, but i loved to participate. also, i procrastinated and literally wrote this right before posting to no lose tbe deadline (not proud, but i made it

hope you enjoy it!

Javier didn't use to be a man to make many promises. He made a few during the years, promises like quit smoaking, clearing Colombia from cocaine, to take care of himself for his mother on her deathbed; he didn't keep any of them. It wasn't like he didn't try, though, Javier was a man of word, things just went out of his control: he did arrest Los Pepes, but the traffic of coke was at full stem ahead even without them, consuming the country, ruining and taking lives of innocent people; it was logical to imagine that taking care of himself was more under his control, but honestly, Javier didn't even know how to do that anymore, his life going south for so long it felt like changing wasn't a possibility.

He still had his father, and living with him back in the ranch again definitely had Javier in the most healthy state of his life that time. His return to Laredo caused quite the commotion, him abandoning Lorraine in the alter was never forgotten, but being part of the chasing of Escobar got him in Laredo's good grace again, he was a hero after all. He hated all of it: the praises and congratulations he didn't deserve, the back pattings and hugs that invaded his personal space, the audacity the people had to 'forgive' him, as if they were people whose opinion he valued.

It's not like he wasn't used to it, he was born and raised there and small towns had small towns' issues, but that didn't mean it didn't piss him off still. His big, nosy family was a part of it, all over his head asking "what was his plan now that he was back home", about "getting a girlfriend to become a wife and finally have kids", because "he wasn't getting any younger" and "was the only single cousin". It was like all his concerns were thrown in his face. He loved them, they were all he had left, but god, didn't they make him feel like shit. Because he had accomplished nothing in forty years, and it was clear that every person around him could notice that too.

The coming of a new year was another reminder of that. During his years in Colombia, he didn't do much other than a dinner with Steve and Connie, neither of them was in the mood of anything fancy at that time, and when they left the country, he simply worked or, in the best scenario, slept. In Laredo, though, his family wouldn't miss an opportunity to throw a party.

"What are your resolutions for the next year, Javi?" his cousin asked.

They both were in the kitchen, the task to cut pickles in very thin, even slices given to them by one of their aunts. Javi stopped his work with the knife to not lose a finger as he side eyed his cousin.

"Don't look at me like that!" she laughed "I'm asking you a question"

"What do you mean?"

"Resolutions, Javi" she rolled her eyes "Like your wishes for the next year"

"You mean, like, manifesting? Are you into that shit?" he couldn't hide the frown on his face.

"No, Javier, not manifesting, even though there's nothing wrong with that" she gave him an irritated look "You write down what you would like to change in yourself, to be a better person next year"

"Is that your way to say that I'm an asshole, prima?" he narrowed his eyes at her and she laughed loudly.

"Well, not just that" she shrugged "I like to do that every year, helps me to keep focused in what I want. And I see the look in your eyes, Javi" she wore a sympathetic smile as her hands caressed his "You have dreams you want to chase, why not start by that?"

A loud scream made them both jump in their places, a tiny human coming through the kitchen threshold with his hands thrown up in the air.

"Mijo" she laughed at the child's prank and the boy giggled.

His cousin had been married for almost ten years by then, a little boy and one girl on the way. Her being younger than him and having accomplished his dreams made a claw made of jelousy wrap its nails around his throat.

Javier wanted a wife, he wanted to marry someone he loved, he wanted to build a family of his own, he just was focused on the wrong things at the wrong time.

So he decided to start with something that should be simple, only one promise to himself: to meet someone in the coming year.

It should have, didn't mean it was, though. It was scary, he found out, to get to know someone after so long, especially at a small town where he knew almost everyone. Javier never had problems to get laid, but most of the woman he hooked up with didn't really seem interested in more than that, after a while it started to feel like a him problem. That being said, Javier didn't know how to start, so the next time another cousin of his said that he would really get along with a co-worker he had, he finally accepted.

The date was... awkward, to say the least. They went to the most popular restaurant in Laredo, every person there looking at him the whole evening; she didn't seem to mind the attention, but Javier did. He tried to make conversation, to ask about her interests, to compliment her, but he was as rusty as a cheap aluminum pot left in the rain for months, years, in his case. She would ask a lot about him, too, but not his hobbies or what he liked to hear on the radio, she would ask about Escobar, how was it like to catch bad guys, if he still had his gun. Javier tried to change the subject, but she would insist on talking about Colombia. She was curious, it was normal, he was used to it, but what a damn turn off it was. Javier felt like being in an interview, the atmosphere heavier and heavier as the questions were getting more and more personal, and by the first hour of the date, he was wishing he was at home.

Javier had this happening before, during his time chasing Los Pepes, the media would be all over him asking all sorts of questions, work related or not, and he hated it. If she wasn't an acquaintance of his cousin, he would even consider her being a fucking journalist, because it was not normal to act like that with someone you had just met.

So after that, Javier was pretty dismotivated to continue his chasing, but his family had already found out he was giving love a chance and wouldn't leave him alone. Apparently, there were many "young women" interested in Javier, according to his aunts. Javier wasn't really comfortable being putten in that position again, but decided to give it a try - few tries, actually. Blide dates were exhaustive and the most of them very unpleasant. In a blink of eyes, it was New Year's Eve again and Javier was still not in a relationship, another failed promise in his mind.

"Well, your plan was to meet someone, and technically you met, like, twenty new women. I would call it a success" Javier rolled his eyes at his cousin's attempt to cheer him up.

"There must be something very wrong with me" he sighed and she pouted.

"Don't say that, Javi! All of them wanted to go on a date with you, you were the one to reject them"

"I know, but- I don't know" he scratched his chin "They all looked at me as if I saved the world, and it's not like that, you know it's not"

She moved the newborn to her other side and sitted closer to him in the couch settled outside the house where they had been chatting for the last hour. Javier looked at the baby in her arms and felt his throat tighten.

"You think so little of yourself, Javi" all her attention was on him, but his eyes didn't meet hers "I know you didn't "save the world", but you tried to make a difference and gave your best to do so, you can't reject a girl just because she admires you"

Javier had done things terrible enough for the good ones to be irrelevants, had let shit happen when he should have tried to stop them, and he had told her that, not in details, but she was the only person beside him and Steve to know, and still thought he was a good person. And yeah, maybe he wasn't so bad after all, but he imagined letting one of those women inside, their eyes shining with pride, letting himself love her, feeling safe enough to tell her about everything and her never seeing him the same way, giving up on him because of his baggage, he knew he would if he could, so how could he put such a burden upon someone's shoulders? Who would want that?

"But I understand, I think" she spoke again, her free hand patting his shoulder "It must feel strange having someone knowing so much about you and you knowing nothing about them. Maybe you shouldn't go on these shitty arranged dates and find someone on your on"

"Yeah, I think you're right" he took her hand in his and gave her knuckes a light peck "Thank you"

"Mijo" Chucho's head appeared on the frame of the door "Would you do me a favor?"

"Of course, Pops" he stood up.

"Your aunts forg-" he was interrupted by shoutings coming from the kitchen:

"You stand there and accuse me, but where were you at the time?" was the voice of one of his aunts "Strolling through the corridors looking for fruitcakes when it's not even the season anymore!"

"You leave my fruitcakes alone!" another aunt shouted back "I don't hear you complaining when you're eating them!"

Javier looked at his father with his brows raised in curiosity, and the old man sighed "Your aunts forgot the jar of pickles, would you mind driving to the tienda?"

"No, I don't"

Most of the commerces were already closed at that time of the evening, but the tienda was the one place everyone in Laredo could count to be open at any time. The owners greeted him when he passed through the door, trying to small talk, and he turned them down the nicer way he could, wishing them a happy new year and going straight to the aisle he was supposed to. He heard the sound of broken glass followed by cursings coming from further in the store and found you staring miseraly at a burst jar of pickles on the floor, the vinegar smell all over the air and a basket full of groceries supported on your hip.

"You okay?" you looked up at him and he felt the the wind knocked out of him; you were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen in his life.

"I am, yeah, that isn't" you pointed to the jar and he smiled.

Probably imagining what had happened by the noise, a man quickly showed up with a broom and a cloth to clear it up. You apologized profusely, saying that you could clean it up yourself while the man said it was no problem.

Javier looked at you one more time and left to get what he went there for. He had never seen you in the city before, and it wasn't like he was out of the ranch often - he tried very much not to -, but you should've been new there; the conversation with his cousin still fresh in his head. When he got to the dill pickles aisle, he shouldn't be surprised that you appeared in the other end of it, you had just dropped your jar after all.

"Hi again" you smiled as you walked towards him and he smiled back.

He felt something very similar to shyness creeping in his stomach "Hi"

"Just getting another one of this since mine decided this life just wasn't for him" you raised your hand and said your name.

"Javier" the handshake lingered a little longer than one normally would, your skin soft against his.

He saw the way you looked at him with interest, he should've asked you out. He should've, you were pretty, were his type and, if new in town, probably knew nothing about him. He should've, but he didn't. Thinking once then twice if he could've been reading it wrong, if you were just being nice and in the possibility to make you uncomfortable asking you out after exchanging two sentences in an aisl store. So he just took a jar, said goodbye, and left.

But something inside of him told him that you, with your bright smile and little jokes, could be the one. So he promised to himself to ask you out the next time he saw you.

And he did. After that day, he would go to the city every chance he had. He told his father he would start doing the groceries so he could rest. Chucho didn't buy that, but did nothing about it, he knew his son, so he knew better than to ask, when he wanted to talk to him, he would. It took a couple of months for him to see you again, in the most unexpected place he could think of. He had taken his father to an appointment in Houston, strolling around to pass the time when he saw you inside a café. His eyes widened and he was quick to move out of your sight before you saw him.

He was anxious, but he had been waiting for an opportunity for months and couldn't let it slide away again. Javier took a deep breath and entered the shop, a bell upon his head announcing his entrance. He pretended not to see you, going straight to the counter to ask for a coffee; he didn't want you thinking he was a stalker or something. While waiting for his drink, Javier would take glances in your direction, you sitted three tables away from him, an open book and a mug on the table before you. With his coffee in hands, he looked around and locked eyes with you, who smiled and waved at him. Even though there were plenty of unoccupied tables, Javier took confident steps towards yours.

"Mind if I join?" the smile you gave him made his skin prickle.

"Not at all" you marked a page in the book and closed it as he took a seat in the chair in front of you.

"I haven't seen you in a while" was his subtle attempt to start a conversation.

"Were you looking for me?" you rested your forearms on the table and lightly leaned in his direction.

Javier smirked, was that you flirting, or was he really that rusty? "I was, yeah"

"Good to know" you smiled again "I travel a lot for work, haven't really been in Laredo"

Before he could ask what you did for work, you asked what he was doing in Houston, so he told you about his father's semester appointment that was only available there, and that made you ask about Chucho's health, and then about the trip, since it was a very long one, but he told you he liked driving and used to do that with his parents a lot, which lead to talking about families, you said you weren't really close to yours, the conversation flowing with neither of you seeing the time pass. It was you the one to bring him back to reality, asking which time he was supposed to get Chucho in the hospital and making him realise that he was already late.

"Javier" you said as he quickly stood up to leave "I don't know if I'm reading this wrong, I really hope I'm not and I'm sorry if I am but-"

"Would you like to go out with me sometime?" the words left his mouth before without hesitation.

Your brows raised in surprised, but your smile could have brightened a whole galaxy "God, yes"

He called you the next day, not wanting to wait a minute longer than what he thought wasn't giving desperation. You set the date for the next week, when you would already be back in Laredo. He went to pick you up and got once more mesmerized by the sight of you; you laughed and affectionately squeezed his arm when he told you that. Javier took you to his favorite restaurant in the city, a cozy little place with delicious food his parents used to take him when his mother was still alive. The two of you talked the whole night: he found out that you were a photographer, had moved to Laredo a few months ago planning on settling down "I'm getting too old for all that traveling, and the house's prices are good" was what you told him. Your favorite food was mexican, you weirdly liked the smell of gasoline and wet soil, loved listening to music, still had your grandparents in your hometown so you visited often, wanted to have a dog but couldn't with your schedule, always dreamt of being a mother. You asked so much about him, too. Not the type of questions he was used to being asked, you tried to know him by asking about his childhood, more details about his parents because they seemed to have had such a beautiful love, if he had traveled out of Laredo before, which got him telling you he was a former DEA agent in Colombia, and he saw the curiosity in your eyes, he waited for the questions about that to come, but instead you just said you've had always wanted to visit South America. Years later, when he mentioned tour first date, you would tell him that you knew what was happening in Colombia at that time and that you knew better than to ask what could be invasive questions.

When you couldn't stay in the restaurant anymore because they had to close, Javier still didn't want the night to end, but drove you to your house still. As he took you to your door and wished you a goodnight, ready to leave, you held his upper arm and gave him a light peck on the lips. As if something snapped inside of him, Javier didn't give you the time to even open your eyes before his mouth were against yours again, tongues dancing together as if they already knew one another and had done this before, hands passing through each others bodies. When you asked him to go inside, he hesitated.

"I don't want you to think that's all I want" he vocalized his concerns.

"I don't" you took his face in your hands, brushed your lips on his and smiled "You're a catch, Javier Peña, I'm keeping you to myself"

Javier took his time with you, kissing every inch of your body, having you giggling and moaning and writhing under his touch. Unhurriedly making you his between wet kisses and moans and screams of his name. He would've stayed connected to your body for the rest of his life if he could've, but your agenda was booked for the rest of the year and all he could have was a couple of weeknds a month and long night's phone calls. But Javier took all you gave him without complaints, even though he missed you so much his chest tighted. He missed your smile, your laughter, your body next to his, your fingers through his hair, your kisses to wake him up in the morning, the way his name souded on your lips when he was inside of you, the weight of your head resting on his chest, the way your right leg would twine between his when you slept. The man was head over heels for you and knew you felt the same, all those nights the both of you cried on the phone, sick of being away from each other proved it.

But the both of you survived that tough time like champions, by then, the end of the year was near, and you went to get your grandparents at your hometown to spend the New Year's Eve with Javier's family, the people who raised you obviously being two of the best people he had ever met. His aunts were in love with you, the kids wouldn't leave you alone and his favorite cousin was so thrilled to finally meet you that she dramatically almost passed out. Everyone spent the night laughing and eating and talking, and watching from afar, he couldn't believe how well you fitted on his family, but he hadn't doubted for a second that everyone would love you, how could someone not to? So when he told you he loved you for the first time that night and you said it back without hesitation, Javier promised to be the best version of himself to get you to wear his mother's ring on your finger by the end of the next year.

Not everything was perfect, nothing ever is. You had some fights, you disagreed in a few things, but something you stablished the first time Javier gave in to old habits and tried to run away from the issue was that you wouldn't sleep without talking about it; no hitting doors, no leaving, no fucking the anger out, you talked and made the effort to change what was bothering. Javier had been in only one serious relationship before, with Lorraine, and damn what a difference it was. He couldn't blame neither of them, they were young and didn't know what they wanted; you, on the other hand, knew exactly what you wanted and it still shocked him that it was him. You wanted him, all flaws and errors and baggage included, you didn't let him shut you down when things got tough, and with time he learned to trust you, to count on you, to talk about his feelings, his walls slowly tumbling down. The day he told you everything about Colombia was the hardest he had ever been putten through, years of fighting drug dealers and putting his life at risk, and he had never been more frightened. Tears were shared, you didn't react very well to a few things, but you never dropped his hand, never interrupted, never distanced yourself, even thanked him for trusting you, and at the end he felt as light as a feather. You convinced him to go to therapy, emphasizing that he had to treat the psychological consequences of the terror he confronted back in Colombia.

After that, it seemed like you had reached a goal at your relationship, you spending more time at the ranch than at your own house, a great routine already settled, and you made it very clear you were ready to be asked in marriage when you said those exact words to him. Little did you know he was already planning on it, and one day, after photographing a wedding at a neighbor city, Javier welcomed you in the ranch with candles everywhere, a knee on the floor, tears on his eyes, his mothers ring in a velvet red box and the most heartwarming speech one could ever ask for. The wedding was quick to happen, neither of you wanted a big party, just your families and friends gathered in the ranch with the ceremony realized by a very emotional Chucho. Didn't take you long to get pregnant either, your life settled with you being called to take every photo in Laredo and Javier accepting a job at the Sheriff's Office; the both of you had decided to live with Chucho once he had injured his leg during work, him more than thrilled to have a grandbaby under his roof. Javi fell in love with you a little more every day that passed, more and more mesmerized by you and your growing belly. At the end of that year, he promised to be a father as good as the one he had.

And what a good father he was indeed. He dedicated his life to his family, providing all the love and dedication he had in him, gladly waking up during the nights to comfort his kids; yes, you both got tired as hell, made mistakes, got stressed sometimes, but you got the life of your dreams and the both of you had so much love to give that it didn't matter how hard things could get, you wanted it, all of it. With his one-year-old boy sleeping in his arms as you talked to your grandma on the other side of the room, your ring hand carressing your beautiful round belly that carried your next baby, he saw as his babygirl crossed the room shouting with her hands thrown up in the air to scare you, clearly influenced by her cousin, and you playfully shouted back. The dogs started barking and jumping at the commotion, the three-year-old giggling as you kissed her cheek.

Javier felt like his heart could explode inside of his chest, certain that there was no man alive happier than him, he thought about how lucky he was he went to get those pickles all those years ago. The journy the both of you had wasn't quite easy, the challenges you had to face, the expensive phone bills he got when you were apart, the fears he had to overcome, even those years in Colombia, he would have done it all again and again and again if it meant to be where he was at that very moment, to wake up everyday by your side, to always have you in the passanger seat to rest his hand on your thigh, to have the kids laughing and running around the house, to experiencing the type of love his parents had.

At that New Year's Eve, Javier kept the same promise he had been keeping the last years: to give his all to the family of his own.

"Javi, baby" you called him, your smile as wide as always "I'm craving pickles"

[stories-of-the-multiverse]

((So. Remember this post when I gave a certain someone the benefit of the doubt?

Yeah, well, they tried to worm their way back via my fucking boyfriend now, so fuck any and all goodwill, I am sick of this shit.

So, screenshots and names now, fuck 'em!

Meet love-is-in-the-multiverse! The person that will not leave no matter how kindly you tell them to stop!

Sadly, I only have screenshots of the last time we talked and my boyfriend's screenshots. So I'll just have to summarize my experiences up till the final confrontation without screenies.

So, Love, formerly known as mollypico, was a FNF/Newgrounds RPer I met when they approached me for a starter. Since then they, they got very smothering, spamming my inbox with OOC convos that honestly overwhelmed me. I tried to give her other options, I really did. But in the end, she didn't take them. I changed the rules a bit to reflect this newfound boundary, and at first she seemed willing to respect it. But then turned around and continued because "She had no other options". So for the sake of my sanity, I blocked her.

Her response was to send a few friends after me asking why. And I tried to explain it to them as kindly as possible.

After that, they tried approaching me with new accounts passing themself off as someone else. The accounts were deleted by the time I looked in my notifs on my phone and saw them in the morning.

Eventually, she came to a new account and via messages apologized. I gave her the benefit of the doubt and accepted because she was finally keeping this stuff in IMs. And sometimes in those convos, she'd bring up fandoms and characters she played that were... suspiciously exactly the same as those other accounts that deleted.

It did not make her any less pushy and smothering, rushing me for starters, getting impatient with me not responding immediately. It all added up.

One day, I decided that people that killed my enjoyment here would get blocked. That included her. She tried to bypass this by making new accounts to talk to me. Twice. Once to act as if she wasn't one of the people I blocked. And the other to explain herself. I blocked those too.

Some time later, I was followed by two new accounts. One called "hate-in-the-multiverse" or something along those lines, and the other called afriendtoall. Who claimed she was an IRL friend of Love, and was the one that actually talked to me. Although Hate did send an ask, but not much else came of it.

Friend was frankly not all that different from her. It did not help matters when I started approaching a very stressful change that is still ongoing. And I started having suspicions.

Spoiler alert, I was right;

I then blocked her and soon after, I saw she deleted the account when I tried to block across all my blogs. I didn't screenshot it, but after this last message, she wished me well and said she'd leave me alone.

Cut to tonight! Picture this! I was in a call with a friend, having fun reading a graphic novel to them, and then I look to see a message from my boyfriend, and he sends these [censoring his name and icon for his safety]

So, after I tell her to leave me alone for good, she instead tries to worm her way into contact with my boyfriend and followed him again. And I am pissed.

He confronted her as soon as he saw.

"Oh mistew, I was just cuwious, uwu"

Yeah, nevermind you followed him. Knowing fully well that we interact a lot on Tumblr.

So yeah, fuck it, you win, you got my attention with your stupid game. Now here's your stupid prize.

RPers beware. Block her. If you RP FNF/NewGrounds, Danganronpa, My Hero Academia, I think Undertale/Deltarune, possibly any other game/anime/whatever, block. Her. Ass. On sight. Don't even give her a chance. Take it from me, she will drain you, and then make you feel horrible for feeling drained by her/not being in the mood to talk.

She's not worth it. Put yourselves first.

[chanrizard]

not coming off anon bc im a tiny blog and 99% sure your followers would come for my neck because basically no one follows me... i'm not the one trying to start this drama? did you not literally bring up fic writers for no reason in your tags on your original post? saying that it was just as hard to make a gif as a 5k word fic? YOU started that. it's so weird to me that you'd even bring that up or try to make that comparison. like you're minimizing the work that fic writers do. that's all i'm saying. it is just so unaware and honestly shit-stirring to have to drag that in.

i agree that it sucks having gifs not tagged. has happened to me several times and no one gives a fuck because i'm a small blog. i quite literally love your blog and appreciate the effort you put in. and i agreed 100% with what you were saying until i read your tags basically pitting fic writers and gifs against each other. it undermines the entirity of the point you were trying to make, which WAS a good one. please just leave other people out of this

PISS ON THE POOR WEBSITE FOR REAL MY GOD can you not read. i said that because it is. and the reason very much was that the reposter was a fic writer. who happens to make socmed au threads btw so they know how to edit stuff on their own. which means they could very well make their own gifs to add to their content without stealing from tumblr.

and it says more about you than me that you chose to read it that way because it seems really fucking clear to me i said it's frustrating because "why cant you show the same respect (positive term!) for something that takes AS MUCH TIME AND CARE AS (more positive terms!!)". meaning they're both things of value. those are very much positive terms of comparison

sorry that happened to you we're all in agreement that sucks major ass and tumblr made it basically impossible to report stolen content but the point is not that they're not tagged, it's they shouldn't get reposted at all period even less by other content creators and the least you could do if you (general you, just to be clear, i'm not accusing you anon of anything here) choose to ignore op's wishes and delete the post is to link their blog. simple as that. instead 9/10 we get blocked

also sorry but the galls of accusing me of starting shit and saying things i quite literally never said when all i did was post a rant on my blog you could've well ignored and instead choose to camp in my inbox to send passive-aggressive asks is hilarious

[timemachineyeah]

Strongly suggest you edit both your original Spotify vent post and the secondary "no for real" reblog to say smth like "I KNOW ABOUT THE OTHER FOLLOWER SETTING THIS IS ABOUT AVOIDING SPOTIFY'S ALGORITHM" bc tumblr's popular posts algorithm will just keep promoting those two posts w/o the rest of your reblogs

Oh is THAT what’s happening??? See this is why I fucking hate algorithms!!! I have all my tumblr algorithms turned off too, so I have been absolutely fucking baffled by the way this post has been spreading.

Honestly just been debating deleting the original post because I’m so tired of dipshits in my notes “Um actually”ing me when I know more than them, and in fact know what I’m talking about.

Ugh. Unfortunately editing the original post will do nothing for the versions already being reblogged. Idk. Delete. Edit. Both? Boo. Wish people would do the basic due diligence of checking the notes when something seems off instead of jumping straight into snide bullshit additions.

[tscritical]

When DWIT thoughts came out. I was graduating my sophomore year of high school. I am now a sophomore in COLLEGE. I remember talking to my therapist in detail about the redux episode over online therapy in July of thr first wave of the pandemic. And since then, what have we really got? I feel bad bitching about this because the one friend I tried to talk about it was like 'content creators don't owe people anything'. Except. They kinda do if people are literally paying them via patreon? And it's the main thing you're known for? And you give us nothing in between?

Idk, part of me just wants closure. That's why I fucking hate what's happening to the dsmp right now. I left Sanders Sides for the DreamSMP and honestly, I don't regret it. But Dream and Thomas have something in common. Taking an amazing, unique series. And never giving the fans proper closure. Granted Dream is worse than Thomas because he's an actual groomer, but the situation with the finale and dsmp season 2, which I won't be watching, felt all too familiar.

If Thomas wants to stop doing Sanders Sides, or even can't, he should TELL US. He should tell us no more content us coming. That he's sorry, but without Joan(I hope I spelled their name right) he can't continue. Apologize, but step away. At least we'd have an answer!

I'm sorry for rambling in your ask box. You just seem to be the only person actually talking about this. I've unfollowed most Sanders Sides account, deleted all the fanart off my phone, stopped roleplaying. But I met my best friend, my WIFE through Sanders Sides on tumblr! I named myself after a character! I sent that ask (the one about being named Patton) when I was half asleep and a little delusional after studying all night.

I wish I had waited till I was into MCYT to name myself. I fucking realized I was trabs because of Thomas. If I had the Dsmp, or Hermitcraft, I'm pretty sure my name would be Wilbur, or Ren. But I chose Patton. And the guy who helped me chose my name, is kind of a dick.

literally i don’t understand how people can say “thomas doesn’t owe us anything” as if there aren’t people literally putting money directly in his pockets via patreon so that we can have content. MAKE IT MAKE SENSE.

idk anything about dsmp other than what ive gleaned from mutuals’ posts, but i believe u lol (im more of a hermits kinda guy, particularly smajor, goodtimeswithscar, and LDShadowLady) (really hope nothing comes out about those three or i might quit the internet /hj)

and yeah thomas needs to be upfront about the behind the scenes shit (which is why im glad he posted that video recently!!! even if i feel like the details are still… somewhat vague… but he’s trying i guess?)

im sorry everything’s turned sour for you patton </3 i get it, believe me i get it

let’s just hope that things improve at least somewhat 🤞🏻

[purplesurveys]

1649

1. What are you doing at this exact moment? (I want details, people!) I’m taking this survey while sitting on the couch in the living room, which we FINALLY got professionally cleaned after Agi must have peed 47549835734 times on it; and I currently have Jimin’s Like Crazy playing on loudspeaker from my phone right beside me. Dogs are resting in front of me having just finished their dinner. Am also cautiously watching the time because I plan on working again by 10 PM so I can finish a couple of slides on a Powerpoint I’m in the middle of finishing.

2. The one song you will never get sick of? Additionally, any song recommendations? I really really feel this way the most about Namjoon’s Closer.

3. Name everything you have ever wanted to be (occupations and random things, like animals!) Writer, journalist, housewife, lawyer, art curator, historian, mom, bird (so I can fly and travel), dog (so that I never have to work lol).

4. What is the best fanfic you have ever read (lmao) There were a couple of AJ/Punk fanfics I enjoyed back in the day, but sadly the author took them down (and I think even deleted their account altogether) so my memory of the story is lost to time. More recently, I’m obsessed with this AO3 writer’s Namjin works; I go back to my favorite scenes from time to time to give me the giddies lol.

5. Name every fandom you have ever been in! Beyoncé, wrestling if that counts as a fandom, One Direction, BTS. I like and have liked a number of other things too like Paramore, THAT British YouTuber crew, and Good Mythical Morning, but I wouldn’t say I was ever active in any of those fandoms; I just enjoy ‘em on my own time.

6. What is the saddest movie you have ever watched? Additionally, movie recommendations? Requiem For A Dream, Portrait of a Lady on Fire, Life Is Beautiful, and ROMAN FUCKING HOLIDAY holy shit the last scene amazes and pisses me off every time lmao. 

As for movie recs, I’d also go for Roman Holiday.

7. If you could direct your own TV show/movie, what would it be like? A snoozefest...I like to keep my life uneventful.

8. The cringiest account/fan account you’ve ever made? (oh god) The first one that I made when I was around 11; it was my Twitter account for everything Beyoncé. I would’ve given my wrestling Tumblr as an answer too, but in retrospect I don’t think it was necessarily cringe; I was just being the modern-day fangirl/stan before stan culture was even a thing. Meaning to say the shit I posted was definitely more out-there than anything back in 2014, but if I look at that Tumblr now (it’s still alive!), it honestly holds up, lmao. Looks like every other stan account that we otherwise have nowadays.

9. What is your aesthetic? Describe it to us in list form. Hmm okay I’ll try but I’m honestly so over the place idek if I have one.

K-pop merch

A wall of custom Polaroid printouts of BTS members

Dogs

Coffee and a pastry

Laptop stickers

Museums

Peach soju

Oversized t-shirts and sweaters and baggy joggers

Bucket hats

Printed socks

Muted shades

Listening to lofi or piano music at 2 AM

10. What is one thing that has been bugging you recently that you just need to talk about? That I am so bad with money.

11. One thing you’ve always wished you could do / be good at? Play the piano.

12. Put a picture of your best (or your worst!) fanart/drawing ever! I don’t draw.

13. The best book you have ever read? Additionally, any book recommendations? I haven’t read any that I’d consider an all-time favorite. 14. Most exotic food you’ve ever had? Crocodile sisig.

15. Post a picture of the weirdest/funniest text conversation you’ve ever had! Idk if there is one. I have lots of funny convos with friends, but I’m not sure if any of them would be the funniest.

16. Random fun fact about you! I blocked Zayn Malik for like five years after he left the band. LOL

17. What do you think of me? Ahh! Idek who you are!

18. Do you have any fake names? Pseudonyms? Idk, stage names, street names? If not, what would it be? Nope. 19. What is your idea of a perfect life? One where you’ve reached a level of contentment in a way that you’re comfortable and happy with every decision you make, and face mistakes with a lesson and an, “On to the next.”

20. Finish the sentence: “Oh, to be a _____” Nepo baby? Lmao

21. Is there a stranger you would like to meet again? Sure, the nice fan sitting beside me at Seonho’s fanmeet who gave me a slogan when she saw that I didn’t manage to get one.

22. Post a picture of you/someone you know doing something weird. Do it, you won’t. Coward. (Obviously the pic doesn’t have to have a face in it) I would but my phone is at 1% and the charger is upstaaaaaaaairs, lol.

23. Is there a place you feel homesick for even though you’ve never been there? Well, no. I don’t think the homesickness would be genuine that way.

24. Basic, but what’s your sign? Taurus.

25. What sign do you act like? What sign do you wish you were? None of these astrology questions plz.

26. What is one unusual thing you do? Surveys? < Agree.

[illicitlimerence-writes]

close friends | t. holland

pairing: tom holland x fem!reader word count: 3.1k warnings: some language, some angst if u squint. otherwise it's just fluff and tom being tom. didn't proofread this. a/n: so tumblr decided to be a little bitch and deleted this t w i c e. so i had to write this t h r e e times. this came up in my head after i got like three notifications that tom posted something on his ig story, and then it turned out he deleted them. as always, english isn't my first language so i'm sorry if this gets confusing bye. also, i was listening to cardigan by taylor swift as i wrote this.

my masterlist

so we all know tom sucks at instagram. that's a surprise to literally no one. no matter how many times you tried to teach him he still doesn't get it, and it was only a matter of time before he finally posted something he shouldn't have.

it was just one of those days, you missed him like hell. he was away filming the third spiderman, and you had to stay behind because of work.

naturally, you relied on face time and texts to survive and fill the void he left behind. you loved talking to him, listening as he rambled on and on about his adventures on set. a love-struck look on your face as you tried your hardest to stay awake despite the urge to close your eyes.

eventually, sleep took over you, and you drifted off with the sound of his voice lulling you to sleep. he stopped talking abruptly when he didn't hear your soft chuckling in reply to the story he was telling.

instead, he saw your sleeping figure, long steady breaths moving your chest up and down. and he cursed himself for making you stay up so late for him. he took one last look at you, taking a screenshot of your sleeping form.

he quickly hung up the video call and opened instagram instead, uploading the screenshot to his story,

'missing my favorite girl, thank you so much for everything you do for me. x @yourusername'

the next morning you woke up to the sound of your phone buzzing. at first, thought someone had died as one notification after another filled your screen. most of them came from instagram, so you opened that app first.

thousands upon thousands of mentions, tags and new followers. you frowned, and suddenly a text from your friend popped up at the top of your screen.

'omg just saw his story. so happy for u both'

who's story? what was going on?

you refreshed your timeline, and tom's icon appeared, a colorful circle around it. an odd feeling sank in your stomach. you tapped his icon and suddenly your screen was full of... you.

a picture of you, sleeping. tom's smiling form in a small rectangle on the bottom right corner.

oh god. you read the words he wrote, over and over again. your heart pounding in your chest, and a sudden wave of fear ran through your body. but then you read his words once more, and all you could feel was love. pure, unconditional affection.

sure, your families and closest friends knew about you, but you hadn't talked about making your relationship public yet, but there was nothing you could do now.

you sighed, leaning back on your pillows. a small chuckle left your throat.

you grabbed your phone once again, quickly facetiming tom. you knew he had an early call today, and you hoped you could catch him while he was still in his hotel.

it ran once, twice, and then you saw him, hair all over the place, bare chest. hands rubbing sleep off of his face.

"mornin', darling." he said, his raspy morning voice making you smile.

"hi, baby. did i wake you?" you asked, sitting up and crossing your legs.

"yeah but it's fine, princess. i did keep you up last night so it's only fair."

"i'm sorry about falling asleep on you, that was a really nice picture you took last night," you lifted one eyebrow, and watched as he smiled at you sheepishly.

"i thought you looked really pretty, you always look pretty," he said, grabbing the water bottle on his nightstand and taking a swing.

"thanks, i hope the whole world thinks so, too," you declared. leaning your chin on your fist, watching him expectantly.

he did not react like you had expected him to.

his breath hitched as he sipped his water, and suddenly all you could see was the cream-colored ceiling, as you heard him spitting out and coughing.

"tom! oh, my god! are you okay?" you asked, getting on your knees and holding your phone up to your face, "tommy?" you repeated when he finally stopped coughing, you could now hear his heavy breaths.

at last, you saw his curls appear from the bottom of the screen.

"wh-what did you just say?" his voice was rough, his chest heaving.

"are you okay?" you asked again.

"ye-yeah i'm fine. babe, what did you mean by 'the whole world'? did something happen?" he asked, frowning. you echoed his expression, watching him for a second.

“you posted a picture to your story,” you repeated, and he nodded.

“yeah, i posted it to my close friends, i-” he stopped mid-sentence, eyes growing comically wide. “oh shit, did i-” he caught himself off as he threw the phone to one side, you heard him fumbling around for his laptop and you snorted. “shit, baby, don’t tell me i posted it… fuck!” you couldn’t keep it in any longer, you broke out laughing.

“of course this is how the world finds out about us!” you continued giggling until your stomach hurt.

“fuck, princess i’m so sorry, i didn’t mean to, i swear i- why are you laughing!?”

“tommy, tommy! it’s okay, baby, don’t worry. i’m not mad,” you stopped once you noticed his pouting. “it’s fine, my love, i don’t mind. sure it’s unexpected, and a little sudden but i wouldn’t have it any other way. i knew what i was getting into when we started dating,” you told him honestly, wishing you were there to give him a hug and kiss him all over.

“darling, i’m really, really sorry. i swear i thought i tapped the green button like you told me to” he continued his sulking, nervous eyes glancing back and forth from his laptop screen to you.

“i know, baby, i know this is not your forte, and i really appreciate the sweet gesture, honestly. i love you so much,” you told him as you bit your lip. folding your legs to your chest, wrapping one around them.

“god, i love you. i swear i’ll make it up to you,” he ran his hand through his hair, giving you a quick peek of his bare chest.

“i’ll hold you to it,” you chuckled, you glanced to the clock on your nightstand, sighing when you saw the time. “i’ve gotta go,” you said as you stood up and stretched. a wicked idea ran through you head. “i’ve got like five meetings today, so i’ll probably be busy most of the day. just in case i don’t reply or something,” you made up you lie quickly. grabbing your laptop and opening a new tab.

“oh, okay. i’ll be on set until like 1 am, so we’ll talk tomorrow?” he asked, eyes bright. you nodded, biting your lip.

“definitely. i love you,” you blew him a kiss. he smiled, and you felt your heart swelling.

“i love you, too. good luck today!” he said as you reluctantly hung up the call.

you immediately got to work, calling your assistant and telling her you were taking a few personal weeks, and to email you in case of emergencies. next, you texted harry, asking him to call you once tom was busy on set.

you waited for the page to load, and once you had bought your one-way ticket to atlanta you hurriedly threw some pre-planned outfits into two suitcases, just in case. your phone rang and harry’s face popped up on your screen. you quickly answered the call, and let him know of your out-of-the-blue plan. he agreed to meet you at the airport and drive you to set. and because of your recent and sudden rise to fame, he suggested you wear all black and a cap. you followed his advice, throwing on some sunglasses as well, as you had seen tom do many times before.

once you reached the airport and checked-in, you bought some coffee and breakfast, as well as some food for the flight. you opened instagram, seeing all the messages and comments. you had seen how the fans reacted when their favorite celebrities announced a relationship, and you knew to expect the meanest comments, and even death threats. for your own sake and peace of mind, you allowed yourself to scroll until you read three of those, and closed the app.

once the plane took off, you tried to catch some sleep, preparing for the inevitable jet lag, but your mind kept buzzing from one scenario to another. so you took out your book and tried to read some chapters, putting in your earbuds, music playing quietly.

when you finally, finally landed, you stretched your legs and grabbed your bags, putting on the cap and sunglasses again, you spotted a familiar head of wild curls. you quickly approached harry.

“what happened to all black and a cap to go unnoticed?” you asked as he took one of your bags in his hands.

“think about it, two kids wearing black, a cap and sunglasses? people would think we’re up to no good.” he gave you a tight hug, you’d missed him almost as much as you’d missed tom.

he caught you up on everything he and tom had been doing these past months, you shifted in your seat in excitement, the sleep that was slowly taking over you on the plane had now disappeared from your body.

in what was probably a 15 -but to you felt like five- minute drive, you got to the hotel to leave your bags and take a quick shower. harry left you alone in tom’s room, making his way to his own room next door. he said he’d order something for you to eat whilst you got ready to see tom.

you took the quickest shower ever known to humankind, and when you walked out of the bathroom after using tom’s shampoo and conditioner, -you’d missed his smell all over you. the few forgotten hoodies and shirts that were once drenched in the smell of his soap and cologne, were now very faint.- you wrapped a bathrobe around your body, rummaging through tom’s clothes until you found one of his shirts.

you pulled it close to your face, sighing at the familiar scent you’d missed so much. you got dressed quickly, grabbing your now fully-charged phone and the key to tom’s room that harry had left on a coffee table. you knocked on harry’s door and he let you in.

“i just texted tom, he says they’ve got like three hours left.” you sat next to him on the couch, the table in front of you filled with food waiting to be devoured.

“my poor baby, they overwork him,” you pouted, reaching for one of the plates.

“it was his idea, said he’ll do anything that helps finish filming sooner.” you stopped chewing your food.

“wait, really?” you asked in disbelief, you knew tom loved his job, and you found it odd that he wanted to cut his time on set short.

“yeah, it’s been rough for him. not having you around, i mean, after he spent months with you. he’s been pretty distracted lately. messing up lines, he’s been waking up late and missing early calls...” your heart sank at the words. you ate the rest of your food with a knot in your stomach, cursing yourself for not getting there sooner. soon enough, you were back in the car, your leg bouncing up and down. you fell asleep on your way to set, waking up when harry parked the car and nudged your shoulder.

you stepped out carefully, your head turning back every few steps you took, in fear that tom might catch you. once you reached the stage where tom was filming, you flashed the visitor badge harry had given you to the guard and he let you both in. you walked in as you leaned down, your forehead against harry’s back, shielding you from the curious stares. harry told you to hide behind a giant box where they kept some lights whilst he spoke to the director.

although the box was big and tall enough to cover you completely, you crouched down, straining your ears for nearing footsteps. you heard two sets of feet approaching, your heartbeat racing.

you were met with your accomplice, a friendly-looking man behind him. you stood up as they approached you.

“this the girl?” the man asked, and harry nodded, “nice to meetcha, i’m jon.” you shook his hand, “okay, so we’ve cleared tom’s schedule for one week, we’ll need him back fully recharged and ready to work like it’s his first day on set, you’re welcome to stay as long as you like, if it means he’ll work better if you’re here you can stay until we're done. i really don’t mind, i just need my guy back.” you blinked at his words, nodding slowly. “we’ve got a couple hours left tonight, i’m all up for some cheesy reunion, but it’ll have to be when we’re finished, i can barely keep him focused as it is.”

with that he left, and harry led you to tom’s trailer, where you caught some sleep while you waited. like that morning, you woke up to your phone buzzing. you reached for it, sleep leaving your body as you read the text.

‘just finished filming for the night, i’m exhausted. miss u, love you. x.’

all rational thoughts left your head, you opened the door to tom’s trailer and sprinted out of there until you reached the set. your eyes finally, finally met his figure, and tears filled your eyes.

your legs moved on their own accord, you mumbled apologies as you crashed into people, but you didn’t care. tom had his back to you, and even though he wasn’t wearing the spiderman costume, you’d recognize that ass anywhere.

“tom!” you called out, stopping a few feet away from him. you saw him whipping his head around, eyes scanning the sea of people. you made your way up to him, “tommy!” you repeated, and he finally turned around.

his mouth wide opened in disbelief, arms twitching, feet running towards you as you did the same. you crashed into each other, your legs wrapping around him, arms around his neck, fingers curling on his soft hair. his hands running all over your back, your hair. pulling you as close as humanly possible.

whispers of ‘i love you’, ‘god, i missed you’, ‘never leave me again’, and ‘i promise’ were exchanged. you tightened your hold on his hair, pulling back to look at him.

“hi,” you whispered, your nose brushing his.

“hey,” he replied, burying his face on your neck again, pressing small kisses anywhere he could reach. his hands settled on the back of your thighs as he spun you two. you giggled, sniffling as a few tears escaped your eyes.

you could not care less about the people around you, all you could think about was the boy wrapped all over you, your favorite boy. tom led you back to his trailer, where you finally untangled yourself from him. he settled you down and you immediately wrapped your arms around his waist, pulling him close to you again.

you had been starved of his touch for so long, there was no way you were letting him go anytime soon.

after many kisses, touches, tears, promises and more kisses, you left for the hotel. harry had already left, getting a ride from another cast member to leave you two alone. at that moment you swore you’d make him godfather of your firstborn child.

as you waited for tom to step out of the shower -you would’ve joined him, but three showers in a day seemed kind of excessive-, you laid down on the bed, throwing the covers over your body, tom's scent engulfing you. you breathed in happily. you tapped on your phone, replying to some work emails when you received a text from harry.

‘i believe the ball is in your court. you’re welcome.’

next, you received a picture of you and tom. harry must’ve taken the picture when you and tom were too lost in each other to even notice anyone around you. in the picture, your legs are around tom, bodies pressed closed together, your noses touching as you stare lovingly into each other’s eyes. it was a beautiful picture. and the black and white filter harry had applied to it made it seem like one of those old pictures of wives reuniting with their spouses after the war.

you smiled, heart swelling with emotion as you contemplated your options. you hummed quietly, tapping the instagram logo and waiting for the app to load.

you quickly uploaded the picture harry sent you tagging both him and tom and adding a quick caption before you shut down your phone. you were drifting off to sleep when you felt familiar arms around you.

you leaned into tom’s touch, your back resting against his chest, legs tangling with his as he interlocked his fingers with your own.

“thank you so much for being here, my love. i love you,” tom whispered into your ear, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“i’ll be here whenever you need me. i’ll always come back to you.” you turned around, facing him. you kissed the corner of his lips, and he cupped your cheek, his lips meeting yours in a slow kiss, filled with emotion. your fingers played with his fingers as you moved to straddle his waist. “i love you,” you broke the kiss reluctantly. as much as you both wanted to make love that night, you’d made it your top priority that tom took his time off to rest as much as he could, and that included that first night.

you gave him one last kiss, going back to your previous position. the familiar and comfortable weight of his arms around you, the feeling of his lips on your neck, his chest rising and falling against your back, you couldn’t ask for anything better.

the peaceful environment you had created suddenly burst like a bubble as tom’s phone pinged over and over again. you heard him grunting, arms reluctantly leaving you.

tom chuckled, putting his phone on do-not-disturb and throwing it somewhere on the bed.

“you’re perfect for me, my favorite girl.” you smiled, leaning into his touch as he kissed you all over. sleep quickly taking over both of you.

tom swore his heart stopped when he’d seen the picture you posted. you’d never looked more beautiful than when you were staring up at him, your bottom lip between your teeth. the words you wrote as a caption were the last thing on his brain as he finally succumbed to sleep.

‘i said, “i bet you can’t keep this a secret for five months.” he said, “darling, i won’t make it past three.” @ tomholland2013 it’s been 10 months, who won?’

edit: i just saw henry cavill's ig post and omg what is my life. pls respect celebrities' privacy and relationships.

[sazandorable]

About moderating and banning content on AO3!

Okay so! I haven’t had the spoons to do this for a while but I cracked and ranted about it on twitter which is... not... conducive to long rants, so!

This is a h u g e discussion part of the l o n g history that led to the creation of AO3, which older, more informed, and more articulate people have talked about at length and can be found around if you look (I reblog some of it in my AO3 and fandom history tags for the curious). So I won’t go into that here, nor into the practical reasons why it’s not even possible to put that system in place anyway.

Arbitrarily, or the purpose of this post, because it’s the biggest topic I’ve seen brought up lately, I’ll be talking about fic depicting underage characters in se*ual situations, but honestly I could hold the exact same conversation on literally any controversial content.

This is about why you, specifically, if you are a content creator and especially if you are marginalised and especially if you are queer and especially especially if you are sensitive to fiction depicting certain things... do not, actually, want a banning system on AO3.

What? Of course we do. There’s a lot of p*do shit on AO3 and p*do shit is gross. No one should condone that, wtf? It would be easy to do — just periodically delete the entire Underage tag!

What will happen if that is done is that people will re-upload and continue to write it, they’ll just stop tagging and you will run into it with zero warning nor ability to filter it out. Again, this is not a theoretical — we know this is what happens. When I was a teen, adult content (all adult content) was not allowed on FF.NET; it was everywhere regardless, and without tags. The exact same thing happened on tumblr when adult content was banned as well. It’s not a matter of “staff not handling it well” — it just doesn’t work.

To keep safe the people who need to be able to exclude that tag, that tag needs to exist and be used.

Well, shucks. A reporting system then?

A reporting system would operate in one of two ways:

-an algorithm, which would delete a lot of stuff we wouldn’t want it to delete.

-humans, which is... the bigger problem.

An algorithm sounds great. We do want it to delete everything.

Okay. What about the daddy k*nk fics between consenting adult characters? What about the fics featuring characters that are children in the canon but are adults in the fic? What about the fics about teenagers exploring their se*uality together, written by adults about the experiences they remember having or wish they could have had? What about the thousands of SasuNaru and Drarry and other shounen and YA fics that will get written, by teens or by people who remember being teens? What about the se*ually explicit fic written by teens who are se*ually active in real life? What about the fics about CSA as trauma, about healing from it? What about the fics written by survivors of CSA to cope about their trauma? What about the fics that clearly show that it’s evil and traumatic? What about the super dark, harrowing, but beautiful and artistic that I’m glad I read even though it fucked me up for days? What about the ones that were really shitty but also horribly hot?

Well, some of these are still not okay, but maybe some might be. It depends on how it’s written. We’ll have humans moderating content and deciding, then.

Okay.

The thing is, I don’t know which of the things I just listed were okay for you to be depicted in fiction and which were too much. Odds are I don’t agree with you. Odds are if I asked 10 people randomly picked off the street, not everyone would agree.

Odds are, even if AO3 arbitrarily decided on which of those are allowed and which are not, you would not agree with their choice, and you would still be unhappy with the decision. (Or you would be happy, but your friends wouldn’t.)

Odds are, different AO3 content moderators might not agree on whether a given fic qualifies or not — is it artistic enough? Does it show enough that these actions are evil and wrong? Can the author prove they’re a teenager? Can the author prove they are a CSA victim? Can the author prove that this is to help them cope with their trauma? The author seem to be functioning alright, they mustn’t really be traumatised!

You know what I mean! There’s absolute, objectively gross shit out there that is not artistic and should not be published.

I agree that there’s vile stuff out there that makes me sick and that I think is very clearly just ped*philic trash. But there is no way to, 1) stop those from getting published anyway, 2) take those down and preserve the safety of everything else.

If we start forbidding some things, there’s two ways to go about it.

One single, clear, arbitrary rule — for instance, absolutely no adult content featuring characters under 18 (leaving aside the fact that this would not even work for the reason cited above). So we lose all the stuff from teenagers, all the coming of age stories about adolescence, all the stuff from CSA survivors; people who need to write it can’t publish it anymore, and people who need to read it can’t anymore either (and as a cool bonus, they’re told it’s wrong and made to feel bad about it). Depending on whether the rules applies to characters that are under 18 in the canon, we lose entire fandoms.

Or, subjective moderation by humans, according to what they estimate to be gross.

Let’s assume all moderators can agree on what’s gross or not.

If there is a system in place to ban some underage works because “gross shit”, then that means other gross stuff can be taken down on account of being gross and harmful.

Yeah! Gross stuff should be taken down! Come on, surely everyone agrees on what’s gross and harmful.

Ah.

But the problem is.

Here is a list of things I have seen — with my eyes seen — called harmful to be depicted in fiction:

Murder

Non-con

Inc*st

Cannibalism

Torture

Self-harm

Mental illness

Drugs

Racism

K*nk

Non-negotiated k*nk, but healthy k*nk is ok

Spanking k*nk

BDSM where the woman is a bottom, but woman top is ok

Healthy depictions of BDSM

Unhealthy depictions of BDSM

Queer people doing bad things

Abusive relationships

Rival/Enemies to lovers

Redemption stories

A happy relationship between a 17 yo and an 18 yo

A happy relationship between a 20 yo and a 60 yo

A happy relationship between a boss and their employee, or a college teacher and a student

A happy relationship between a 14 yo boy and an older teenage boy, because that’s reminiscent of older men preying on younger gay boys IRL

Se*ual content featuring a character whose age is unclear in canon and some people headcanon them as being underage, some as being a young adult

Loving, consensual fluff between characters that are evil villains, because it romanticises them and their actions

Dark content shipping female characters

Fluffy content shipping female characters, because it’s misogynistic to act like lesbians are only soft all the time

Consensual s*x featuring a canonically asexual character, because it implies that all aces can and should still have se*

Fics about the same canonically asexual character hating s*x, because that erases the experience of s*x-positive aces

Shipping a character who is perceived by some fans as queer-coded with a character of a different s*x

The tendency to ship a black character with white characters

Fluffy drunk s*x, because that’s not actually consensual

Sleep s*x, because that’s not actually consensual

Trans characters not experiencing dysphoria, because that idealises the trans experience

Consensual s*x between adults that are not married

LGBT+ content, because kids shouldn’t see that.

I guarantee you: you, I, and 10 random people plucked from the street will not agree on what, in that list, is and isn’t okay to publish and consume fiction of.

So why should your taste be the one followed? Why should it be the taste of mods you don’t know? Why should anyone get to dictate? What if the mods think your OTP is gross and your NOTP is fine?

This is the slippery slope argument.

Yes, it is the slippery slope argument. Because we know it happens. Because we’ve been there, because I’ve seen it happen myself twice already and I’m not even thirty. Because we know people do complain loudly about all of these things.

And because the second there is a banning system in place, assholes will use the system to abuse it and get stuff they just don’t like taken down using the “it is gross” argument, and one day you’ll wake up and the beautiful fic that helped you come to terms with your abuse/trauma/identity/orientation/k*nk for feet will be taken down and wonderful vulnerable creative people will have been harassed out of fandom because they argued with 1 person who didn’t like their foot k*nk fic that happened to also feature, for instance, a CSA trauma backstory.

Again: not exaggerating. Not theoretical. It happens, we know it happens, AO3 was created literally because it happens.

I still fucking hate that stuff.

That is completely fine and normal. No one likes everything. Me too! Most of the dark stuff is niche and the creators know only few people will like it the same way they do.

(For the record, I get grossed out and triggered by fics about an asexual character who does not like s*x having s*x with their partner to make them happy. Deep in my gut everything screams that that’s fucked up, terrifying and harmful, how can people write that. But I recognise that there are people who love and need that, and I leave those people and their content alone.

OTOH, I read a lot of otherwise dark shit and I enjoy it in the same way I enjoyed, say, Hannibal, in the same way some people enjoy true crime documentaries, horror movies or r*pe fantasy k*nk. It helps me explore stuff that I like to see in fiction, in a safe, controlled way. I’m also asexual, 90% s*x-repulsed IRL, and, obviously, I would never abuse a child. For that matter, I wouldn’t kill and eat people, either, nor would I do 90% of the tamer k*nky stuff I read.

Of course, Hannibal was fucked up and lots of people probably think Hannibal was gross and should not have been aired — but as exemplified by the fact that it was created, aired and watched, lots of people thought it was fine, interesting and even fun to watch.)

You can and should curate your experience and protect yourself. The AO3 website now allows you to exclude certain tags, and people have developed tools to help with that such as plugins that save your filters or hide fics that contain certain words.

But no, it isn’t going to, and it shouldn’t, get banned.

[theyarebothgunshot]

this is exactly how it went down in my head.

misha: hey, everything okay? do you need me to do something?

jensen: no, lay low. we’re figuring it out.

misha: got it.

— the next day —

misha: things settled. should i say anything? draw attention? stay neutral?

jensen: you don’t have to, but if you want, tread lightly. we’ve had enough chaos.

misha: say no more.

when nobody got your back you KNOW dmitri got your back.

ANYWAYS i turned my back for TWO MINUTES and y'all went the fuck off in my inbox so, you know the drill: more under the cut

NO BUT JENSEN’S RESPONSE LMAAAAAO honestly fallout theory is so on oh my God I can’t stop-

on god they are so loud like-

Worst damage control i've ever seen. god bles.

so true bestie

I think Jensen probably just wants to be done with this petty little drama, so if he has to pretend everything between them is okay he is going to be the bigger man and lay it to rest. Whatever is going on between them he definitely doesn't want to sort that out on social media and the earlier he pretends everything is sorted out the earlier people will forget about it again.

Also it's kinda funny how J*red Tweet was like implying they had a misunderstanding but still talk to each other regularly, while Jensen went full on the we grow apart a little bit, because we were busy, let's catch back up. Makes me wonder if they actually talked or if there managers just said hey that's not good pr, let's put that to rest. Also did J*red know before yesterday that they had a falling out or did he just not realize.

- 🐌 anon

literally jensen went out of his way to say 'uhhh we never talk, worstie' god if pr management is involved then they did a bad job. also j*red still does not realise they have fallen out. jshfjdsfh

Jackles was like God bless but we ain’t talking like this worstie

good for her.gif

csdsc heeft gevraagd:

All I need now is for Misha to tweet “ is it safe to come out now?” And I’ll be complete lmfao 😂😂😂

that would have been better than what we got lmfao

I have one fear and it's Jensen being forced to add j*red to his show and his other projects because he couldn't stop whining like a baby,,, ugh i hate him

i pretend i do not see

Kinda selfish of me tbh but i don't want them to be "friends" again, Jensen sweetie run as fast as you can

co-signed

Ok Jensen's answer to Jared tweet made me feel so bad for him. Like, I can see it's damage control and public relations (obviously) but there's stuff behind it. I can't name it, but idk, I felt terrible for texas man this time, I don't think that reply was written with a "love and light energy" or even without much care. I felt some heavy vibes.

- 🌻, who is now a fortune teller and a prophet apparently

yeah i feel hella bad for him to, for having to deal with this shit. nonnie please if you ever have anything to predict, lemme know sjdfhs

You know Jensen's tweet has the energy of like kindergarten wenn an other kid started a fight with you and the kindergarten teacher wants you to forgive each other and hung it out and you really don't want to, but your kindergarten teacher is being annoying and he isn't worth the annoyance either.

- 🐌 anon

you are not wrong

Incredibly thankful that I have the day off from work 😂 I'm with hatching chick anon, the 3 dots read as passive aggressive/insincere to me, and I love it! I haven't spent this many hours on tumblr since I first discovered cockles! (On a side note, the lack of fimmf posts today has me feeling like it's not friday lol) -🐢

i, too, miss fimmf but alas things happen, they do they do they do

I was right. :(

It got almost romantic...

👀

nonnie you know i love you but this is really not the case, like, at all??? idk how you could look at those tweets and think it was almost romantic. it was THEE most scripted, pr bullshit ever. it was staged and fake. idk what else to tell ya

Danneel liked Jensen's tweet

i saw

That is so so awkward I feel so sorry for all of us being exposed to this and so happy I chose to leave the Internet for half a day - tea anon

god bless your stance on that cause i would have hated missing out on this lmao

You know what? I think it’s okay being a 38 year old moron if you’re bringing us this type of content

im happy with the food but still think its not okay tbh

pspspsps Misha this is the perfect day for you to drop the gay Cas essay pspspspsp it is still pride month pspspsps

you know you want to king pspsps

So that JIB6 link (I think it was from your post, right?). I went and watched that bit, and a little more.

Jensen makes a comment about Jared being first on the call sheet because Sam was supposed to be the main focal character.

And that him nor Misha cared about what number they were, so in all that time it never changed.

And I’ll be… if that just doesn’t perfectly sum them up and their feelings on things. And how a certain someone can be petty… 🦚

idk if it was from my post? but maybe? my analysis probably? but yeah things are making more and more sense huh

Ohh that's also an alien? Welcome to the extraterrestial family then, purple alien anon!

Also it's probably because I'm coming off the high this drama gave me but I'm not looking forward to them trying so hard to convince us everything is normal between them. Even though we now Know, they will have to keep pretending. Today (yesterday?) was a shitshow but some masks fell off, at least for a moment and I kinda wish Jensen was less professional 😂

👽

oh for real, fallout theory IS confirmed and nothing they said today will change my mind, it only made me believe in it even more lmfao and with that in mind i am just gonna sip my tea if they try to be buddy buddy on main again

I THINK MISHA UNRETWEETED BUT HE TWEETED "LOVE AND MISS YOU BOTH" I'M LOSING MY DIGNITY HERE - tea anon

yeah he now answered them sjdfhsjfhsf instead of rt

MISHA COLLINS IS A KING I STAN THE RIGHT MAN

YOU SURE DO

I just know Misha’s process was oh crap I have to let people know I’m supporting them and I can’t choose sides. Ok. Retweet. NO. Delete. I love both of you. Yes, good.

sjdfsdfh this makes me think of that post that dissected jackles' birthday post for misha where he used the heart. 'call him bro, that makes it less obvious. nailed it.'

Lol I'm off for a few days and come back to total chaos... God I missed it here

Like the "et tu... #bravo" tweet? Made my day! Frikking hilarious (every time I see it I picture J*red with a pissy frech accent saying it out loud lol) it's just such an incredibly petty hissy fit he threw (I know he tweeted more later on but... Really all that stuff coming afterwards just sounds like damage control)

Missed you Rose

-🐻

LOVE the french accent detail im gonna do this too sdjfhsjfh missed you toooo!!!!

Oh man Misha is really gonna get hate for that I KNOW IT

sigh well. nothing he isnt used to by now, unfortunately

i mean i believe they feel like brothers, but constantly falling back on the “brother” thing to keep up appearances is really starting to feel like “#spnfamily” at this point.

honestly brothers can be very annoying, or so i have heard, so it fits with the fallout theory lmao

They actually said if we’re gonna make this gay we cannot have Jar*d Pad*lecki involved

oh my God this is the funniest timeline to ever exist God bless I’m just waiting to canon bi Mary

king shit tbh

[demi-chaos]

since the author of this fic has comments turned off, im turning to tumblr to sing my praises.

(if they somehow see this and want me to take it down i gladly will)

Falling For You by 1967HogwartsGoddess on AO3 is a fic that humbled me.

i should start by saying that i was ignorant. I saw the name of the fic and it's summary along with a couple of tags and i jumped right it. "it shouldn't take me too long to read" i assumed.

i was wrong

this beast of a fanfic was 69 chapter, clocking in at ~270k words total. i didn't check the word count, and while i wish i did, i dont regret not having done so. It took me 6 hours to read, i stayed up until 9am to read it all, and i clung to every word.

i loved so much about it right from the start. for one, it felt like the author had taken the original books' style and mastered it. i loved the fact that they bothered to switch povs in the same way the hoO books do, it felt very natural and ended up making the world feel more real than if they had just stuck to percy's perspective only. i also love the little quips here or there, the references, the scene building, the attitude reminded me so much of why i loved pjo in the first place. im impressed, shocked, amazed and in awe of them.

this fic is heavy. really heavy. like smash your character into a cliffside and watch them struggle to survive type of heavy and i absolutely love it. i couldn't get enough. like percy, everytime i thought something was over, that it was getting better, i was smacked in the face with yet another event. i loved every second of it. everything. every little torture scene, every battle, every step back and step forward he took, i treasured. i especially loved how hopeless it got. there were many moments when i thought "yea this is how the story ends. bye percy" but i was a fool. he kept on trucking, struggling, and surviving. and ahhh! i loved it.

also? can i just say? part that i thought would have been the ending that just turned out to be mid-fic when percy came back from tartarus and found out that annabeth was dead? every scene from threatening the hell hound to keep the button pressed to him punching his dad to cursing out hades was amazing. my heart didn't beat once as i just thought "oh shit oh fuck oh shit oh fuck" and???

HAVING HIM GO BACK THERE??? AGAIN??? RIGHT AFTER HE'D BARELY LEFT? A GENIUS! i almost screamed when hades told him to go down again. that entire moment felt heart stopping honestly! and then the torture, the struggle, the constant failure time after time. the hallucinations. it was just so !!!!!!!!!!! and when he thought he got out but it was just another fucked up layer of torture? oh goodness

the emotional fuckery in this fic is delicious. i felt bad for everyone in the most delectable way. obviously for percy and annabeth, but also for every single party involved. i felt bad for the campers who couldn't save annabeth from dying, for those who love percy who had to witness him go mad and almost turn on them in the final battle. i felt soooo baaaad i loved it so much.

oh shit i didn't even mention the curse! one of the best long term callbacks ive read in a long time!! having it be in part nico's fault was the cherry on top.

i can't even begin to think about how long this took to plan, write, edit and edit again. for such a long fic, i didn't come across a single grammatical error, continuity error or spelling mistake. while yes, coming across these kinds of things isnt world ending, but the fact that this fic had none? blew my mind away. ive written 2k word chapters that are so riddled with mistakes i had to delete the whole thing and try again, so having it be so clean was fantastic. i was impressed! my socks were blown off and my head exploded.

real quick, the reason im posting it here not on the fic where i wish it were, its because of shitty people doing shitty things. i hope the person who fucked with the author's works and privacy goes to hell. that shit sucks and no one deserves it

overall, this is one amazing fic that i am really happy to have read. i love reading these types of fanfics where it feels like another chapter or alternate version to the original, and im always blown away by it.

author, thank you so much for your probably hundreds or thousands of hours of work on this. im really happy to have witnessed such a thing <3

[not-poignant]

Do you think many things have changed about you being a writer online since the beginning of the Fae Tales Universe compared to now? Not only writing style, but including how you are online, or how you think about fandom?

Oooooo

*thinks*

Actually yeah, I mean writing style yes, but in terms of how I think about fandom and how I am online, that has changed a lot. (Adding a Read More because oh god this got LONG).

I used to like, try and be 100% kind all the time, since firstly that comes very naturally to me, and secondly because I was so like...happy and thrilled that folks were communicating with me in the beginning.

But then I was taken advantage of, and one person in particular was abusive, and at the time I didn’t see it for what it was. I’ve also been stalked. I’ve had someone turn up on my doorstep uninvited. And over time I think I’ve become no less grateful (if anything I’m more grateful for the amazing readers), but also more wary? Like, I’m more likely to delete troll messages, than I used to. And sometimes I think it will be more obvious if I’m impatient or if I’m asserting a boundary in an ask response.

Radiotherapy to the head/neck for the cancer I have also really altered things there. I realised I could die at any moment, life is really short, my tumours could metastasise at any time (I actually have one that’s growing at the moment, which is alarming) and that I don’t really have the...patience I guess, to spend time constantly saying ‘this isn’t a music rec blog’ or ‘please don’t recommend books to me because most of the time I don’t like them and people tend to resent me for it’ (as an example) year after year after year. Or to deal with bad faith anons, or anons who just enjoy the novelty of getting me to answer incessant questions about space or something else that has nothing to really do with me. I can’t tell you how many asks I’ve gotten about ‘will you ever make Augus and Gwyn dads, could they adopt a baby’ but it’s a lot and I’ve deleted most of them.

So I actually think I’m more realistically human than I used to be, online. Which is a weird thing to say, right? And maybe that pisses people off. I’ve always been very opinionated, probably to my detriment, that’s never really changed. I’m still going to tell antis to go fuck themselves.

I try and stick to a policy now with messages that piss me off, which is ‘take time before you reply to this.’ I don’t always succeed, but I usually like to wait 12-24 hours before I reply to those messages (or delete them), so I can at least give a fair and moderate response. I really hate feeling like I just got angry at someone who’s possibly only 18 years old and doesn’t really know how to articulate themselves well on the internet, and it can sometimes be hard to tell the difference between ‘troll’ and ‘someone who really just is nervous and shy and doesn’t know how to phrase their question.’

In terms of fandom, I love replying to comments more than ever, actually. Like I love it. I love kudos even more than I used to. I really am grateful for all reader  engagement. But I don’t have as much time and energy as I used to respond to every ask, so I respond to asks less, and I respond to them in a less timely manner. I really hate that, but sometimes it’s like ‘I can’t spend all of today replying to asks, I literally have to write the chapters that people want to read.’ I also get social anxiety around asks, and people can be impatient - like no one sends a second comment on AO3 going ‘heyyyy you haven’t replied to my comment yet’ - but you’d be surprised how much people put pressure on you on Tumblr sometimes, as though I also don’t have social anxiety and things might be really stressing me out. :(

In terms of my priority, it’s always 1. Writing content, 2. Replying to comments / being active on the Discord, 3. Replying on Patreon when necessary, 4. Replying to asks. If I’m behind on writing, everything else gets hit. I think when I first started out, I actually put comments and asks ahead of writing content sometimes, but now I know I will literally spend all my time responding to folks and that’s a me problem, and I’ve worked on that since lmao.

I’ve realised over the years that instead of just writing for myself, like I always used to, I also just want to deliver so many of you wonderful people good stories. This has come to matter to me more. The best way, I think, to repay some of the amazing faith and love you’ve all showed me, is to try and give you the best possible writing I can until like, my cancer makes that impossible. And so I’ve become a lot more focused as a writer, and a lot more like ‘this is where I want to be.’

I’ve also realised I care a lot less about traditional publishing, I really love serials! Er, that was a big one, I thought one day I’d transition from writing serials online to publishing books, but now I would like to always be writing serials, and publish books on the side. In a perfect world, I could also publish the serials as books too, so people could own them if they wanted to.

I’ve also seen over the years the rise of antis, and puritanical censorship, and more, and that’s made me angrier, and also much, much stronger re: feeling centred in what I write and what I have written. So I feel like I am much more like...genuinely not bothered by what antis have to say to me, and ironically I get less bothered by antis than ever before, probably because they know that I’m Teflon with claws whenever it comes to any of their rhetoric. I have a media degree that says they have no idea what they’re talking about, and I’m angry on behalf of all the readers who feel ashamed for reading certain content, and who deserve not to feel that way. So that’s like...a thing that’s changed over the years - my anger, and my anger on behalf of readers who might feel guilty or ashamed for liking noncon or incest or underage in fiction. It’s fiction. They’re allowed to engage in that without being afraid of being bullied for it. But that’s not the world we live in.

To be honest, a lot of the changes have been positive! I’ve become more sure and focused, I’ve actually become happier as a writer and a person, and I enjoy the fandom experience more, as well as writing fanfiction and stuff. I wish I had more time to like... chat about AUs and stuff and write Tumblr posts like I used to, but radiotherapy hit me pretty hard with some permanent energy loss and side effects, and so where things have changed in a bad way, it’s almost always because of health and not because I love fandom any less. And where I’ve changed in terms of sometimes being a bit more cynical about anon asks I try and remind myself to give everyone the benefit of the doubt, and to just remind myself that I have my boundaries, and I’m safe/okay. I hate that I have to do that nowadays, but it was kind of stupid that I didn’t do it before.

I can’t believe how like... how lucky I am to be here. Lucky to be alive. Lucky to write for you all. Lucky to write stories I love. Lucky to reply to comments and asks like this one. I don’t ever want to lose sight of that or the gratitude.

I think the day I stop being grateful, is the day I need to walk away. It’s humbling, honestly, and I feel that more and more over time, and not less. Even when I’m an opinionated dumbass who writes too much most of the time, lmao.

(I didn’t even get to talking about how my writing style changed I’m sorry anon THIS GOT SO LONG FUCK)

[attilarrific]

Not to be dramatic, but... I'd just like to say that Hidden Track has watered my crops, cleared my pores, raised my pet bunnies, cleaned my room for me, and got me my dream job with flexible hours in a field that I enjoy. It's honestly such a gift it has me on the verge of happy-crying most of the time & it makes me feel so warm inside ;__; Might this contented soul ask for more of the trickling honey comfort?

Man, I wish Hidden Track cleaned MY room for me, because clearly I’m not going to. In all honesty, thank you for the kindness of this message, sorry it’s from three weeks ago and I’m just now getting to it, and please enjoy the following!

And yes, I’m writing this for the SECOND TIME, because the first time I accidentally deleted everything, smh. “Teach me to write directly into a tumblr post,” I ought to say, but, uh, I’m doing it again. Whoops.

The Hidden Track tag, the preceding segment (because this takes place directly following), and the tag again in chronological order.

.

Lan Wangji probably shouldn’t be enjoying this photo shoot as much as he is, but it’s the first time the band has been officially photographed since the announcement of his relationship with Wei Wuxian, and the photographer seems determined to milk that for all it’s worth. Every time they shift positions, she urges the two of them to move closer together---she tells Lan Wangji to put his hand on the back of Wei Wuxian’s neck, Wei Wuxian to lean back against Lan Wangji’s chest. It’s sheer agonizing bliss. For years, he’s been convinced that Wei Wuxian should be touching him at all times, and now, suddenly, like a gift, everyone else seems to agree with him.

He’s sitting on a hard plastic seat, part of what’s either an extremely convincing replica of an abandoned subway car or a real one that someone has managed to move to this studio and gut enough to fit the lights and cameras into. Either way, it’s very convincing, right down to the amateurish graffiti on the walls. It should be uncomfortable, but Wei Wuxian is lying on the ugly seats next to him, one leg stretched out and the other bent casually, an arm dangling off the seats so that his knuckles brush the ground. His head is in Lan Wangji’s lap.

Lan Wangji doesn’t even know how Wen Qing and Wen Qionglin and Jiang Wanyin are posed, because his eyes are fastened, magnetized, to the pale arch of Wei Wuxian’s neck and the jut of his Adam’s apple.

“Ah, Lan Wangji,” the photographer calls out. Her name completely escapes Lan Wangji’s dazed brain. “Your arms look a little awkward---would you mind putting one of your hands on Wei Wuxian?”

Lan Wangji hums weak agreement, dizzy with gratitude. No, he would not mind putting one of his hands on Wei Wuxian. It’s both impossible that she would need to ask and also somehow offensive that he has gone his entire life without anyone asking him that. Why don’t people tell him to touch Wei Wuxian more often?

Since she doesn’t tell him how he’s allowed to touch, he follows the pull of his own desires. He presses a thumb into the top of Wei Wuxian’s narrow shoulder and the tip of his index finger into the divot between Wei Wuxian’s collarbones. His fingers splay possessively across bare skin, exposed where the stretched out neckline of Wei Wuxian’s soft shirt hangs too low on his shoulders. Lan Wangji barely manages to restrain the low noise of satisfaction he wants to make at the sight, at the feel of Wei Wuxian warm under his hand.

“Oh, perfect,” the photographer says. Lan Wangji had almost forgotten she was there, but something in him purrs with pleasure when he remembers: they’re being watched. He’s touching Wei Wuxian like this, and people are watching, and those people think it’s perfect. They think Wei Wuxian belongs to him; they’re right.

“Hold that,” she says. “Lan Wangji, just keep looking at him like that---oh, fucking hell.”

Closer by than Lan Wangji had thought they were, he hears Wen Qing and Jiang Wanyin sigh simultaneously. Cursing means things going wrong, things going wrong means delays, and delays are endlessly aggravating. Or they would be under normal circumstances. Lan Wangji tries to muster up some annoyance this time and fails completely.

“Sorry, you five---don’t go far, but take fifteen, okay?” To someone else, her authoritative voice snaps, “Someone fix that damn light.”

Lan Wangji hears the other three move around and sit down to wait, and Jiang Wanyin murmurs, not quite quietly enough, “Fuck, what now?” He ignores all of it. His eye are fixed on Wei Wuxian, who closes his eyes and slumps into a less provocative position, the curve of his spine not quite so pronounced, but otherwise doesn’t move.

He’s still lying in Lan Wangji’s lap. Lan Wangji’s hand is still on his bare skin.

“Fifteen minutes,” Wei Wuxian says, voice low. When he talks, Lan Wangji can almost feel the vibrations with the tips of his fingers. “That means at least half an hour, right?”

Lan Wangji has to swallow twice before he can speak. “Mn.” He makes himself look away from Wei Wuxian’s perfect neck, framed on one side by his finger and thumb, and he frowns. “You look tired.”

Wei Wuxian snorts. “Some boyfriend you are. Aren’t you supposed to tell me I look beautiful?”

“I didn’t say you didn’t,” Lan Wangji says, which is embarrassing, but not nearly as bad as it would’ve been if he’d really opened his mouth and come out with You always look beautiful, which was what had tried to force its way out first. “You also look tired.”

“I’m wearing like six layers of makeup, Lan Zhan, how can you even tell?”

Lan Wangji presses his lips together. He remembers the most tired he has ever seen Wei Wuxian, in the months after Lan Wangji dropped out of college to focus on writing music and helping find them gigs, back when the band had started becoming popular in the local scene, when they were playing better and better venues and finally selling out of their terribly produced first EP. Lan Qiren had furiously called at least one person in their tiny house every day, Jiang Wanyin had been on a bitter knife-edge of stress balancing schoolwork and the music, Wen Qing had been working at a pharmacy while she figured out whether she wanted to take her medical school acceptance and run, and Wen Qionglin had crept around like a ghost to try and avoid the tension.

And through it all, Wei Wuxian had been the loudest, the most frenetic, and the most terrified. He’d drunk coffee and bad liquor like water, at all hours of the day, and thrown away attempt after attempt at writing the songs they needed to give them the final push from gigs to concerts. His hands had always been either shaking or clenched white-knuckled around a pencil or instrument. His laugh had been too bright, too harsh, too desperate. Lan Wangji had almost decided to go back to college after all, that terrible semester, just so Wei Wuxian would stop looking at him with guilty dread.

He hadn’t. Wen Qing hadn’t gone to medical school. Jiang Wanyin had passed his classes and---eventually---come away the only member of their band besides her to hold a college diploma. Wen Qionglin had stopped creeping and started putting his rapidly growing body between them every time any group of them had started fighting, frowning at them in disappointment until the anger fizzled out and turned into embarrassment.

And Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian had found the music again, during late nights and unfinished conversations, desperately trading phrases back and forth until their brains clicked together again. Lan Wangji remembers that time as a dissonant chord, awful and jarring and unmistakable. Months where he knows they’d each individually been convinced that it was never going to work again. They’d all gotten to learn they were wrong. It had worked. It does.

Wei Wuxian now is lying on his lap, still a little posed for a photo that’s going to go in a magazine, wearing designer clothing that’s been loaned to them just for this. His long eyelashes look even longer than they usually do, brushed with mascara and shadowing his skin where his eyes have fluttered closed.

“I know what you look like when you’re tired,” Lan Wangji says, “whether or not you’re wearing makeup.”

Wei Wuxian pouts, but only a little, and he doesn’t open his eyes. “I can’t believe the romance is already dead. How can you really sit there and tell me how tired I look?”

Lan Wangji raises his thumb a little to rub it gently along the side of Wei Wuxian’s neck. “Are you not sleeping well?” he asks. Lan Wangji himself is sleeping almost disturbingly well, because every night he gets to do it with Wei Wuxian tucked snug against his side, but he’s struck with sudden guilt at the idea that Wei Wuxian might not enjoy that quite as much.

Wei Wuxian’s eyes flick open a sliver, and then he smirks in a way Lan Wangji has come to associate, fondly, with trouble. Wei Wuxian pitches his voice just loud enough to carry---which has to be deliberate; both of them have spent far too much time performing for a crowd to pretend they don’t know exactly what volume is necessary to be heard clearly---and says, “Maybe you’re just keeping me up too late, Lan-er-gege. You’re such a bully at night.”

Lan Wangji stares at him. Wei Wuxian blinks innocently back, but the set of his mouth is very smug. A little distance away, Jiang Wanyin makes a choked gagging sound.

Shameless, Lan Wangji does not say, because it’s clearly what Wei Wuxian expects. It’s evident in the self-satisfied expression on his face that he thinks he’s already won some game no one else ever realizes he wants to play.

Lan Wangji says, “You like being bullied.”

Almost instantly, he wants to go dunk his head in a bucket of ice water, but it’s worth it for the way Wei Wuxian’s eyes go wide with shock. They stare at each for two heartbeats, and then Wei Wuxian collapses into loud, delighted laughter.

“Lan Zhan!” he cries, voice bright with amusement. “Who taught you to be so shameless?”

“Hmm,” Lan Wangji says. “Yes, who.”

Wei Wuxian grins at him. “I don’t know what you’re implying. What’s gotten into you, huh? What if someone heard?”

Lan Wangji is fairly certain at least five people have heard, actually, which places even odds on a tabloid article about their sexual preferences coming out in the next day or two and a twenty-five percent chance of one asserting that they’re in an abusive relationship. Either option will result in his attempted murder at the hands of either Luo Qingyang or Jiang Wanyin, but with Wei Wuxian smiling at him like that, he can’t quite find any way to regret it.

“If they heard,” he says quietly, “then they would think that I like to make you happy. I do like to make you happy. Why should I care if they know that?”

Wei Wuxian blinks at him, the smile falling away from his face. “Oh, god,” he says, with considerable feeling, and then he slaps both hands over his face. He groans loudly. “Do you have any idea how unfair it is to me that you’re like this?”

Lan Wangji opens his mouth and has to close it again when words fail him. “I’m sorry,” he manages at last. Has he been too obvious?

“And now you’re apologizing,” Wei Wuxian says with feeling. “Why are you apologizing? No, don’t answer that---I know why you’re apologizing. It’s because I said you were being unfair to me, and you just---you just---you just took responsibility, just like that. That’s even more unfair, Lan Zhan. Here I am, trying to be a normal person in---in a normal relationship with most perfect person in the entire world---except Li-jie---and here you are, staring at me with that serious face and saying things like that. And then apologizing for it. How am I supposed to handle this? Who said you were allowed to be so nice to me?”

Lan Wangji tries to parse his way through that, gives up, and focuses on the last sentence. Carefully, he lifts his hand and slides it up to pull one of Wei Wuxian’s away, so that he can see the beautiful angles of his face again. Under Wei Wuxian’s surprised eyes, he interlocks their fingers and holds on. “I like being nice to you.”

Wei Wuxian closes his eyes in apparent horror, but his hand grips Lan Wangji’s like a vice. “See? Things like that! Stop saying things like that!”

“Hmm,” Lan Wangji says dubiously, unwilling to refuse, but also unwilling to agree. With his free hand, he brushes a few strands of hair away from Wei Wuxian’s forehead. “You never said if you were having trouble sleeping.” He hesitates. “Am I keeping you awake?”

“What?” Wei Wuxian sounds honestly surprised, and Lan Wangji’s shoulders relax a little. “No, of course not. Honestly, you’re really---um. Anyway. No, I’m just...” After a moment, he rolls his eyes. “There’s just been a lot happening lately, I guess. I’ll be glad when we’re properly on tour. Less press; more music.”

In Lan Wangji’s experience, there’s still plenty of press on tour, but he nods anyway. “You should take a day off. The rest of us could do the press.”

Wei Wuxian laughs. “Sure, sure. What you mean is that Wen Qing could do the press, except then who’d keep Jiang Cheng from glaring at the interviewers until they cry?”

Lan Wangji purses his lips. As much as he and Jiang Wanyin hate press, and as much as they’re all used to trying to shield Wen Qionglin---often a little naive---from it, the unbalanced nature of their strategy is extremely unfair to Wei Wuxian and Wen Qing. “I could---” he starts, but Wei Wuxian is already waving him away with the hand that isn’t still gripped tight in Lan Wangji’s.

“Don’t worry about it,” he says. “I’m fine.”

“Wei Ying...”

“Hey, you know what you should do while we wait?”

Wei Wuxian grins up at him, and as much as Lan Wangji knows it’s a distraction and that he shouldn’t fall for it, he can’t bear to refuse when he’s asked for something outright. “What should I do?”

“Sing for me!” Wei Wuxian says cheerfully. “I’ll get so bored otherwise. You wouldn’t want that, would you?”

Lan Wangji’s breath catches. For a moment he remembers---

---Wei Wuxian, damp with sweat and eyes glassy with fever, looking up at him and saying, “Sing something, Lan Zhan.”

And Lan Wangji had opened his mouth and what had come out had been---

He shakes the memory off. He’s not singing that, not in public, and not when Wei Wuxian’s going to remember it.

“Mn,” he says. “If you like.” After a moment mentally riffling his options, he starts humming an older track of theirs. It’s one of the ones Wen Qing wrote by herself, which might make his feelings less obvious, but then again, it’s also a love song.

But almost immediately, Wei Wuxian smiles up at him, going bonelessly relaxed in his lap, and Lan Wangji thinks, well---he can always say it was for verisimilitude.

#

A couple days later, the photographer posts a few pictures to her Instagram that she says ended up on the cutting room floor. She must do it with permission from their PR people, since Mianmian doesn’t instantly call to gripe about it, and Lan Wangji takes a look during one of his early mornings waiting for everyone else to wake up.

There are three. The first is from when Wei Wuxian had tried to sit on Wen Ning’s shoulders and fallen off, and Lan Wangji smiles a little, looking at it.

In the second two, the light isn’t quite right, and it’s not hard to figure out that they must be from the forty minute break while something got fixed. Lan Wangji hadn’t realized anyone was still taking pictures, but the photographer managed to capture Wen Qing with her eyes closed contentedly and her back to Jiang Wanyin as he rubs her shoulders. And the last picture---

The last picture has Lan Wangji sitting on those terrible subway seats, Wei Wuxian’s head in his lap. They’re holding hands and smiling at each other, and Lan Wangji spends five horrified minutes staring at how soft his face looks. He hadn’t realized it could do that. He wishes it couldn’t.

He waits on a knife-edge for someone to mention it, for Jiang Wanyin to say something unpleasant or Wen Ning to blurt out something well-meaning, but in the end, no one but his brother seems to even have noticed. Perhaps, he thinks, no one else bothered to look. It’s not as if the internet isn’t full of photographs of them.

He thinks that until his phone runs out of battery a few days later and he grabs Wei Wuxian’s off the nightstand instead. The lockscreen is, as it always is, a picture of the three Jiang siblings together.

Lan Wangji types in the passcode, barely thinking about it, and freezes.

Wei Wuxian’s background isn’t another picture of him and his brother and sister or a picture of the whole band together. Instead, it’s just the two of them---Wei Wuxian’s head in Lan Wangji’s lap. Holding hands.

Smiling at each other.

.

hidden track masterpost

[thanks-mike-stamford]

Fics that inspire my writing - Part III

This is Part III (the last). Click for Part I or Part II.

So... hahaha I forgot to post the last part. Also: when I was finishing the last paragraph my browser refreshed tumblr and deleted almost the whole post, so this is a rewrite *deaded*.

I also kept changing the shortlist. Choosing just 10 fics was painful, there are just so many great works out there.

Reminder, this is a fic about writing, not necessarily favourites. This is explained better in Part I.

Here we go.

Part III

Collared by VelvetMace

Let's not talk about how Chameleon was never finished when it was right on the story climax and never brought from live-journal to AO3 like this author's other fics. In some ways I feel like Collared is Chameleon's kid, getting all the ambiguous feelings it's supposed to create on the reader, but making it better.

While both fics are supposed to make the reader uncomfortable, Collared made it better by removing a clear villain. Mycroft and Sherlock are still pretty on the fence, you can't quite place if they are supposed to be good or not. But the absence of someone clearly bad to contrast with them is genius. This fic makes me think a lot about morals in stories. While moral lessons seem a good idea for educational purposes, it's also a tiny bit patronising. They are for children's stories. This is not a story for kids at all. Mind me, there's definitely an entity of evil, namely the institutions that maintain slavery. But this is an abstract thing that you can't quite touch. There's no way to single out someone responsible for it. This means that both sides have ways to deal with it that will spillover to people that have nothing to do with it. There's also the factor of the romantic tension happening between John and Sherlock, that makes you oh so conflicted. It's not supposed to be right. It's probably not a relationship you'd approve in real life. And yet you want it to happen. It makes you be critical of some of John's decisions against better judgement. Suddenly you realise you're not thinking about the morality of the situation at all.

For appreciation of fiction in its pure form - removes your obligation of trying to be good and makes you just enjoy whatever is happening, this is the fic to go. I really want to work with something on this area in the future.

Among the Secret Things by Kate_Lear

You all must know that this fic is actually inspired by Lacuna by coloredink. It's actually the same story, except that the original one is told from John's POV and this one is Sherlock's POV. In the story, John loses all his memory from after he's deployed, including Sherlock.

I actually went with this one instead of the original exactly because of the change in POV, which is my main point here. In some stories the change in POV honestly doesn't matter, as the events are experienced in the same way. In those stories the only difference is the inner monologue. But not this one. Here the change of narrator perspective is essential. In the original one there's a plot twist that can only happen in John's POV, it wouldn't work otherwise, so I understand why the author went with that. But for me, the emotional impact is always what grabs me in a story, more than plot intricacies, even if they are satisfying and clever. And for the emotional impact to happen, we needed Sherlock to be the narrator. Mind me, of course John is going through a difficult time, but thanks to amnesia, he doesn't really know why. If he had chosen to move out and restart his life somewhere else along with his new memories, it wouldn't have made a difference. But Sherlock remembers what he lost, even with John still living with him, he's the one who hurts about their past, which they can't recover. We know what's going to happen in this fic, of course, because we read the original one, but that's not the point. Since we have Sherlock's POV, the same story becomes a different experience, this time more from the emotional side. It's genius.

This fic has taught me about the importance of choosing well your POV. If you want a specific type of impact, you need to know who in the story can deliver that.

Comorbidity by merripestin

It's funny, and it happens a lot to me, when you realise that you think you don't know an author and then you check your bookmarks and there are several fics from them. When I was shortlisting for this post, I noticed that there were two fics from this author. I ended up choosing this one (the other was Safe Distance by the way).

The two fics are not very similar, except for the fact that John indulges Sherlock just to keep him happy. Comorbidity is not so much about a kink considered deviant even by the kinky person themselves, but about the feelings of everyone involved. I feel like this fic specifically embodies everything I talked about in this series of posts. It uses sort of a dark theme, conflicted feelings from both the characters and the readers, plays with the morality of the situation, changes POV when it's important for the flow, uses non-linear narrative in a very clever way, it even shows character development and it's a short story. Some would say it's fucked up, but I feel like despite everything it proposes, it's so tender. A study in contradictions. The deviant kink is treated with respect, with conflicting views. There's no judgement, it's just "ok let's try to understand this". There's no characters compromising to each other or negotiation, instead we have "I want to do this for you even if I don't entirely approve of it myself". Nobody asks for anything, but they are given anyway. A fic about a kink but not in a sexual way, even if there's a lot of sex. During sex scenes the focus is mainly on their emotions and perceptions about each other than the acts themselves. It's a short story, but it has all the complexity that some novel-length works lack.

And because of this, it's the one that closes this series of posts. I wish I could write something like this.

If you missed the previous posts, just click: Part I or Part II.

[anemic-comedienne]

Media I consumed today (specifically Michael Che’s instagram and Anna Marie Tendler’s breakup playlist)

Here’s the thing about Michael Che’s instagram: he keeps deleting everything. Now, I’m all about a reinvention, but this near-obsession he seems to have with wiping the slate entirely clean, only to keep posting the same text posts, feels less “reputation era” and more like someone just needs to remind him that twitter (or better yet, tumblr... wink wink nudge nudge) still exist. Is he really rebranding six or seven times a week, or is he just growing increasingly frustrated as a text-based artist trapped within the confines of a visual platform? I, at least, am inclined to believe the latter.

I did enjoy his most recent return post, however, because what the fuck?  (Documenting here lest he delete this absolute masterpiece tomorrow.) The only sad thing about this post is that it forced me to face the facts: there are people in this world with better tinder stories than me, and Michael Che is one of those people.

Something I truly do have to hand to men is that when they make themselves sound earnest, it’s hilarious in a way that nothing else is. Something else I would like to acknowledge because I think it’s funny is that I honestly like Michael Che, which is funny only because of how much I hate Colin Jost, and how much I associate each with the other. Colin Jost deserves No Exit. I hope his hell is other people, and I hope he never, ever gets even one singular moment alone. Michael Che, though? Honestly just seems kind of fun. I wish him well. And I wish him a gentle push out of this post-eighth-grade-graduation-esque social media purge. Here’s hoping today’s post stays on the grid. Five bucks says it’ll be gone by morning.

The other piece of media I consumed (engaged with? swallowed? chomped?) today was Anna Marie Tendler’s breakup playlist.

I went for an hourlong walk, which means I listened to about a fifth of it. This is a playlist with strong bones – on the mournful front, we’ve got Joni Mitchell, Lucy Dacus, even Cat Power makes an appearance. And, to balance out the sad, there’s Charli XCX, Bowie, and Nina Simone’s Feeling Good. However, this playlist commits what is, in my opinion, the cardinal sin of a playlist: whenever there are multiple songs from the same album or by the same artist, they’re clumped together. This is something that I just find so... unbecoming of a playlist. It tells me that the order doesn’t matter. In fact, it’s meant to be shuffled. And honestly, what’s the point then? Especially for a breakup playlist, story is KEY. Hit shuffle on this playlist and you run the risk of starting with Graduation and ending with Illinois, and then all you’ve done is make yourself feel infinitely worse. A breakup playlist means starting with I Know the End and carrying yourself through to a strong Kiss Me More finish.

A fun fact about me is that despite all my soapboxing circa one sentence ago, I’ve never made a breakup playlist. The closest I have is a playlist full of songs that I saved so they would hurt extra when I listened to them while leaving for college the first time, but that almost doesn’t even count, because the breakup part of leaving for college was very much overshadowed by the college part of leaving for college. Anna Marie has me considering making one now, though, if only because I think I could do better. I, at least, know that a playlist needs an arc! A beginning, middle and end! A dramatic crescendo! (Clearly, I have a lot of thoughts on the matter.)

Goodnight, tumblr. Don’t break up with me. Or else I’ll have to make an extremely well crafted playlist about you.

Quinn

[a-force-dyad-in-space]

A continued rant of Breaking Dawn Part 2 - Part 2

I think Tumblr didn’t like how long the post got, so I had to split it up. 😒 Here is the link to Part 1, and here the link to the beginning of my rant about this movie.

Anyway, moving on to the final showdown and the Volturi rolling up with their Victorian goth metal band.

One thing I will say is that I like that Carlisle and Aro aren't yelling at each other. The filmmakers utilized the fact that they have super hearing and therefore wouldn't have to speak loudly to understand each other from across the field, like wow, they've realized they're making a vampire movie. The only time Carlisle talks loudly is when he wants to get the attention of all the Volturi's witnesses.

Now, I admit that I liked the way they used Bella's shield in the movie, but there is one thing from the book I wish they would have kept in and emphasized.

And that is the fact that when Bella shields one of the wolves, all the other wolves from the same pack get the same protection through their mental bond. I thought that was a really cool feature and I wish they would have added it to the movie, because it meant she would have had to shield only a maximum of two wolves and the rest would be covered, too. BUMMER.

Then there is one bit I actually love a lot (I know, I'm finding more and more things I actually like, SHOCKING), and that is when Bella walks forward with Renesmee and Jacob to introduce her to Aro, but then looks back with a silent plea for Emmett to join them and him immediately doing it without another word.

For me that really visualizes Emmett's role within the family when it comes to protecting it and I really liked that.

Then of course we have Aro commenting on Bella being a vampire and I die every time at the look of disgust she gives him.

I hope no one gave Aro any kind of ice after that burn.

Then there's the laugh. You know. THE laugh. That bit of iconic artistry Michael Sheen decided to bless us with in this moment. Honestly, this is the best thing in the entire movie, you can't change my mind.

Moving on to Aro realizing that the Cullens are right and Renesmee DID grow since Irina last saw her.  Now, Irina may have been a snitch and paid for her mistake with her life, but damn me if she doesn't look amazing in this scene, like, look at her.

And then we come to one of the most annoying things about this whole sequence. Alice and Jasper finally arrive at the scene, and for some fucking reason they decide to cross this huge-ass field in human speed??? Like what the fuck??

Walk faster, stars dammit!

And then we of course have the scene that shocked literally everyone. You know, THE scene.

Like wow. That head with the upturned eyes is just *snorts* kind of funny, actually?  I know it's this super dramatic moment but Carlisle's head??? Just looks??? So done??? And it makes me laugh??? I’m so bad, I know.  😂

Which of course triggers this huge attack scene. One question, though, my supernatural peeps.

Why are you all clustering together like that??? Why aren't you spreading out so the enemy can't, oh I don't know, SURROUND you or some shit??? What kind of battle tactic is this??? Prince Caspian and King Peter would deeply disapprove.

Now, I'm not gonna go through all of the deaths that are about to occur in what we later know to be just a vision, but there are some moments I want to address. And one death in particular.

No. Hell to the fuck no. NO. How dare you??? I know this is war (kind of), but you do NOT get to touch Seth (or Leah for that matter). Fuck you. I'm so glad it didn't actually happen, because FUCK YOU.

Moving on to Resident Vampire Good Boy Benjamin snapping and splitting the earth.

Good for you, king.

Not entirely sure, though, that there would be lava this close to the surface unless you're close to a volcano??? Any geologist buds out there, is this realistic??? It seems really weird to me.

Another thing we were robbed off is of course the fighting practice scene that we know exists thanks to a still of Kristen Stewart, so we never got to see Bedward practicing this thing.

Pity, I would have loved to see all their failed attempts while practicing this. Of course we were robbed of ALL the deleted scenes and I'm still bitter about it.

More slow walking, like, speed it up, for fuck's sake, you guys have superspeed for a reason.

And then of course this bit of Bella asking Nahuel how old he is.

And Nahuel immediately answering the amount of years he's been alive.

And Bella being like "Fucking finally, ONE person capable of giving a straight answer, you see this, Edward, he's not giving me fucking cryptic answers like you did, bitch"

Battle over, everyone's happy, yada-yada-yada, and now we're at the aftermath. Now let me tell you one thing. THIS

This is the most Bella Bella has looked since becoming a vampire. The awkward hairdo, the short-sleeves-over-long-sleeves, it's all a throwback to her human fashion and while I didn't like it at first, I appreciate it a lot more now.

And then, of course, there's the vision that shouldn't exist

Ugh. Just ugh. No.

And now let's move on to SCENES THAT WERE OBVIOUSLY SHOT IN DIRECT SUNLIGHT BUT FOR SOME FUCKING REASON NONE OF THE VAMPIRES SPARKLE.

Part 3.

You guys can see those sunrays, right, I'm not just imagining them???  So why in the fucking hell are Bella

and Edward

NOT SPARKLING?????

Just to give you a comparison to another scene where the sun is behind them but the sparkling still happens, let me remind you guys of this opening scene from Eclipse. See how Edward's skin is sparkling here???

And here???

So why aren't they sparkling anywhere here????

That is SO obviously direct sunlight on their skin, so what??? The fuck??? 8 years and I'm still mad.

Finally, I made it! Thank you to @diamondkissle​ and @edwardssparklyskin​ for encouraging me to keep going. Despite the technical difficulties it I had fun working on it. I hope you enjoyed it. ♥

Happy Holidays, everyone! ♥♥♥