I was discussing with some fandom friends how fanfic culture seems to have shifted from mostly comments to silent reading (though I'm very blessed with ya'll on TRT, thank you). And that makes me wonder what the reason is - I've seen a lot of theories and people asking that question but I figured I'd poke ya'll and see what I find.
This question is mostly directed towards those that never comment on a fanfic or rarely comment on a fanfic. If you usually comment or always comment (thank you!), you're totally good on this one.
To fanfic readers who do not comment, why don't you comment?
Commenting makes me anxious/stressed
I'm too tired to comment
I'm afraid of someone judging me for what I read if they find my comment
I don't like being tracked/leaving a trail
I don't think fanfic writers should expect comments
If I don't have time to leave a big long comment I don't like commenting at all
I don't want to bother the author
Nuance/Other (feel free to explain in the comments or tags)
I always or almost always comment
Voting ended onMay 25
Please reblog for a large sample size, I'm legitimately curious
Crazy how “commenting makes me anxious/stressed” is the highest response but writers are expected to post our work without any of those same emotions. Like?
Genuinely. How does that work.
I’m not gonna touch the “I’m too tired to comment” responses, that just pisses me clean off.
You're not too tired to demand an update. You're not too stressed to send an ask for the next chapter. You're not too shy to send hate mail. You're not too lazy to enjoy the fruits of our work. You're not too anxious to recognize it's been a few months and you're wondering when the next part is so you send dms and asks and comments (nothing hurts more than thinking you finally have a comment only for it to be a question about an update). You're not too in your head to complain about the overabundance of smut fics, kinks, fics you deem bad or unworthy, or ooc fanfic.
This is a hobby.
No one is making writers write and no one is making readers read. But since writers are writing and readers are reading, its wild that writers *want* to talk to readers and there's juss radio silence. There's a breakdown somewhere between us posting with requests for feedback and you reading but cant tell us *what* you liked about it. Reading comprehension somehow flies out the window when it comes time to say something.
Are you even reading it? Or are you consuming it like popcorn?
You can love the fic all you want but if you dont tell us that, we think we need to stop writing and plenty of people have already stopped. That's lost art.
No one is entitled to comments, thats true. But yall cant be having a fun time out here in these fanfic skreets when this convo comes up every few months proving that you're not. Yall cant tell me its fun to read these beautiful pieces of human art and then go about your day like it didnt affect you in any way. Yall cant tell me that you have a favorite writer and you're leaving them wondering why their work isn't worth one sentence. One word. One keysmash. One gif or meme to boost the writer's confidence.
But maybe this is your idea of fun. 🤷🏽♀️ Maybe you like waiting 50 years for the next update. Maybe you like being a silent fan, not sharing your feedback with the writer. Maybe you like having no one to gush over the fic with 🤷🏽♀️
A lot of yall have to heal your ideas and feelings around celebrity, big blog vs little blog, trying to be a tumblr influencer, novel writing vs fanfic writing, and the entitlement. You need to learn to have discernment. That goes for writers and readers. There are writers who want to be the prettiest girl at the party so badly that they dont comment on other writers' works. They dont even read from other writers for the preposterous notion that they dont wanna be influenced by someone else. (You're supposed to be influenced by other writing, thats how this thing works lol, but theft and plagarism is a real thing) These writers post from their island of one, or send themselves anons to fake engagement, use AI to drop 80k words of nonsense to keep up with "demand", or pretend like their stories are the only ones that matter on this app. Pay attention to who doesn't clap for others but expect all of the readers and engagement. Take competition out of fanfic hobbies! There's plenty of seats at the table, we can all have one.
A lot of the shyness comes from being overwhelmed while reading. *Thats* what you comment. Which part made you happy, sad, or confused? Comment that. Or it could be that you feel cringe for enjoying fanfic. Fanfic writing IS real writing and the sooner yall understand that, the sooner we can go back to having fun on here.
This is an anon site so unless you share your business, unless you share your tumblr with your irl folks, theres no reason to be shy. Fanfic writers are regular-smegular people with day jobs, kids, caretakers, and are nerds about the same thing you're into.
Writers juss wanna know that someone out their is feeling their shit the same way they are. Writers are not mind readers. Likes dont tell us if you read it. It's not like we're notified when you click into the post or when you're done reading or that you enjoyed the piece.
At this point, yall must really love dead tags and an empty tumblrsphere. Yall must love checking for updates just to go another day without em. And thats fine, no one can make you comment. But when writers deactivate, I don't wanna see a flood of comments and asks like "No! Dont go! What happened to so and so..?"
You cant have it both ways. You either wanna enjoy this hobby with us or you don't. We're asking you to engage with us so we don't abandon this hobby (thats gets us through our day or week) or keep our work to ourselves. Takes .2 seconds to send a picture or a sentence and if you're too lazy for that but not to lazy to leave a comment under a tiktok video then maybe this hobby isnt really for you.
You wouldnt drive a car with no gas, so why do you want writers to write with no engagement? And then make them feel bad for wanting engagement?
We're not *demanding* it, but it sure would be nice not to post to the void.
Summary: You and Marshawn are in New York! You two returned to the hotel room to indulge in some beautiful activities
This fic contains: stronggg sexual content, heavy amounts of negro tongue,lil bit of drug use, you get called a bitch once, pet names, some nasty shit thanks to my clit!
A/N: I have no words. imma whore and the world shall know I'm such, under this name LKJHGFVBNJK like comment reblog for more, and as always folks, have a black ass day.
song that inspired this here:
Taglist: @megamindsecretlair
You walked into the hotel room with Marshawn trailing behind you smiling at your giddiness. Marshawn had a business opportunity to expand his ‘Beast Mode’ franchise and wanted you to come, fuck that, he forced you to come along with him. He loved you dearly and be damned if he left yo pretty ass at home, so he dragged you to the big apple, New York City! Didn’t think you’d love it but you were having fun and enjoying yourself, your man made sure of that.
“That fuckin’ manly ass boy kept taking up space in that fuck ass elevator,” You finally said what was on your mind. You, Your man, a family of 4, and a 6-foot man crowded the elevator and you were tired of it already, your man shielded you once he realized that you were uncomfortable around him. He was just standing too fuckin close.
“Glad you waited till you was in here, I damn near had to cover your mouth in that damn thing.” He rolled his eyes plopping down on the bed and you giggled at how many times he had to squeeze your hand on that long elevator ride to keep your mouth shut.
You kicked off your jeans and joined him on the bed, straddling him, smiling at each other before you laid your head on his chest. “Lemme get a taste baby,” you heard him beg, taking his big long arms and grabbing two handfuls of your ass, massaging them both softly.
“No!” You laughed
“Why not?”
“Because I’m dirty! we been out all day, been sweating and shit, bout ready to throw this wig off and call it a night.”
“Ain't nun wrong with a little seasoning,” he shrugged his shoulders as you erupted into laughter.
He didn’t care if you were sweating all day, freezing your tits off, or sat down too long, if he wanted to eat you, he would, and you would love every single millisecond of it, life too short to not enjoy some head every now and then from someone. You rose up and sat perfectly in his lap, flipping your hair over into a side part, you fiddled with your nails to avoid eye contact.
Your trip prep consisted of cheap but good shit, your nails came from Walmart, your wig came from Amazon, and the clothes you wore you were either forced to buy when you touched down in new york or his clothes he didn’t care if you wore, He didn’t like the shit one bit, ‘the best shit for my favorite woman’ is what he would alllllways say when he caught you buy shit from the low, but you felt bad, you didn’t grow up with shit and hated asking others for help, you didn’t like being dependent on other people because you were afraid of them throwing it back into your face.
But he was different, he wanted to spoil you, he wanted you to have his card and enjoy yourself, get you a fat burrito bowl from Chipotle with a side of Fries and a Hi-C from McDonald’s, it felt nice but you hated him spending his money on you.
“Come here,” he said, raising to help you off the bed and readjust his shirt that you wore, and man you wore it good. You wore his jersey from his football days and you were shocked that you could fit it and it fit you well, hugging your curves and hiding your tummy, which he hated but he wanted you to be his happy princess.
He held your hand all the way to the balcony, looking down at the tiny world, the giddy people walking around, the cars and taxi cabs zooming around and cutting corners, everyone looked like legos and you chuckled at every other person doing emotes and shit.
“Look at this,” he trailed behind you, wrapping his arms around your body, holding you tightly like a warm teddy bear. “This shit is beautiful, even the sky,” You look up and damn it was beautiful. The clouds danced with the stars, twinkling to a rhythm that Black Jesus had his choir sing to the heavens rooftops, the sunset shining through the colorful sky and painting an ethereal picture right in front of your eyes. You were glad he picked the 16th floor just for this view, you’d do anything to see it on a daily basis.
He spun you around and your eyes met his, you saw the sunshine on his face, giving his skin golden kisses all over his face. You gave him quick pecks on the cheek but he wanted more, he grabbed the right side of your face and guided it to his lips, kissing you so sloppily and beautifully, his tongue dancing with yours as he held you closer to him, his hunger for you growing more and more.
You whined as he pulled away from the kiss, leaning forward to get more of him. “Pleaseee, I want some moreee.”
“Why you being impatient? and Do you not know your words?” He questioned you, throwing your head in a frenzy.
He cupped your face in his hand and placed more kisses on you, trailing them from your neck down to your stomach.
“I love when you wear my jersey, I love it even more when I get to fuck you in it.” He smiled up at you and you met him with a flustered grin. Another thing he loved was you wearing his clothes, at first he hated it because you kept taking his good clothes, but the more you took, the more he fell in love with the idea, even to the point that he would take you shopping with him and purposely pick the clothes you chose because you both knew you were going to steal it.
He tugged your panties off, you shook your legs to make it easier for him. A cool breeze distracted you by sending shivers throughout your body. He hooked your left leg onto his shoulder as he dove into you, flicking his tongue on your clit over and over again.
You threw as your hair blew with the wind, dancing in the breeze as he ate you earnestly, moving his tongue wherever your body moved too. You moaned into the air as a smile grew wider on your face, you gyrated your hips in a circle, chasing his tongue around to get him to where you wanted him to be. “Fuck,” You hissed when he finally inserted his two middle fingers inside of you, pumping them deep into you.
He unhooked your leg from his shoulder as he rose to tower you, not fuckin up his motion, he gripped your throat and smushed his lips on yours, his tongue desperately searching for yours but you just couldn’t keep your mouth shut long enough.
He jerked your head forward to look him in his eyes, “You finna cum babygirl? You finna cum all over daddy’s fingers?”
“Yes, Yes, Fuck yes!” You chanted while fucking his fingers, the corner of his lips pulling into a devilish smirk.
He loved watching you cum, the way your body danced with your orgasms, your moans turning into whimpers of pleasure right down to your eyes fluttering like a butterfly in a field of beautiful flowers, You were the flower and he was the boy frolicking through the field enjoying every second of it.
You gripped his shoulder for support with your back pressed against the railing, You opened your eyes to the sight of the beautiful sunset, which was the last thing you saw before he pulled an orgasm out of you, pressing his thumb on your clit and making tiny circles on it. Twitching with every move he made, you grabbed his wrist to steady his hand.
“Fuck, Baby pleaseee,” You begged but he did not listen. Marshawn was a pleaser, always has been always will be, he will not stop until he felt like you were pleased, and you weren’t just yet.
He turned you around so now your tummy was pressed against the railing. He pressed himself against you, sticking his fingers in your mouth, moaning at you suckling on his fingers, “Fuck, Bet you imagined it was me huh?”
“Mhm,” You moaned around his fingers, letting out small yelps every time his hand connected with your asscheeks. He took his fingers out of your mouth to prop your hands on the railing, parting your legs a decent distance, he dropped his pants to free his eager member.
“You think you can stay like this for Daddy?” he asked you, grabbing your hips to perk your butt in the air. He squatted down to take one long look at your pussy, glistening with your essence in the sunset light.
He gave your pussy a couple of licks and kisses before raising up, looking at you, hanging your head low, in desperate need to feel him, to fill you up, to paint a pretty picture inside you. He lined himself up against your wet entrance, preparing his canvas with his precum.
You moaned softly at him slowly filling you up as your eyes fluttered shut, throwing one hand behind you to push him back only resulting in your arm getting pinned behind your back. “You can take me, baby, Just let me take care of you,”
“Nooo,” You protested but it was no good. He was always big, always girthy, and always ready to give it all to you. You’d always fight with him about how much you couldn’t take him, but he’d fucked the worry right out of you.
You felt his free hand wrap around your throat, pushing more into you, finally settling all of his inches in, you clutched around him, snickering at the little moans that escaped his mouth. He planted his feet on the ground and started to fuck you relentlessly, starting at your ass as he watched his lower half collide with your ass, watching it ripple repeatedly was the most satisfying sight he could’ve ever laid eyes on.
You moaned silently to be mindful of the other residents of this hotel but he wasn’t having none of that,
“Nuh-uh,” He moaned in a low tone, propping his leg on the chair, rocking his hips into you slowly to make you talk. “Lemme hear you, let the world know good I’m making my bitch feel.” you granted his wish, letting all of the moans you suppressed leave your mouth.
He paused his motion, slowly sliding out of you and back in. He releases his grip from your throat and you drop your head, flipping your hair back to get the few strands stuck on your face by the sweat off.
You hear him walking away from you, watering your curiosity about what he was going to do. You look back at him to see him remove his pants and take off his shirt. Adjusting his chain he walked back out to the balcony.
“C’mere,” He commanded, squatting down on one of the chairs that was set out on the balcony, stroking himself while looking directly into your eyes.
You smile as you drop to your knees not breaking eye contact, he smacks his thick dick on your lips, the corners of his mouth raising more by the minute.
You opened your mouth and stuck out your tongue, giving him sultry looks before you took him in your mouth, moaning around him savoring the taste of both of your juices combined.
He let out a deep rugged groan at the feeling of your mouth, moving your hair out of your face, he looked at you with hunger in his eyes.
You wrapped your hands around his dick, jerking him and sucking him at a medium pace. “Good fuckin’ girl,” he praised you in a low growl making you leak onto your thighs. Grabbing your head, he began to thrust himself into your mouth, making you take him deeper and deeper into your throat, making gag noises as he stroked languidly.
You feel him twitch in your throat, signaling that he was close. You put your hands behind your back and looked up at a cheesing Marshawn. “You look so fuckin’ pretty taking me mamas.” He moaned before throwing his head back in pleasure. He only had a few strokes left before he came in your throat, letting out those soft masculine moans that you love so fucking much.
He let out a few more before bobbing your head up and down on him, fuckin his cum further down your throat.
You slowly take him out as you swallow whatever was left, giving him innocent smiles and gave his dick a few kisses. “Damn baby,” he panted, lowering his head to give you quick pecks on the lips, leading down to your collarbone as he reached around to grab a handful of your ass.
You got off your knees and hooked your leg on the chair's railings, aligning him with your entrance, you hooked your other leg as you slid down on him slowly. “Shitttttt,” he curses under his breath at the feeling of you, the two of you moaning as your hunger has been restored.
You braced yourself by wrapping your arms around his neck, bouncing in his lap at a quick pace. He moaned directly into your ear to fuel you more and it did, you loved it when he moaned, every time he moaned anything or sound made you get more riled up, it was your dick and you could do whatever you wanted to it, and you proudly did your shit.
“Fuck, this pussy so good. taking all of daddy’s dick,” he said, snaking his arm up to grip your throat, making you hold eye contact while you continue to ride him. The air felt more humid, the sun still peeking through as a ray of sunshine displayed his chocolate skin glistening with sweat, brightening up his dark brown eyes to a beautiful bright brown.
You felt his twitch inside you and his body tense up, “You better not nut baby, not till I get mines.” You commanded and he obliged, rolling his eyes at your dirty words. “God why you fuckin me like this?” he threw the question in the air making you slow down, gyrating your hips as you slowly bounced up and down, giggling at his face and whimpering that left his plumped lips.
“Aw come on baby,” you cooed at his whimpers, “Can’t take it?”
“I’ll show you who can’t take it,” he said, hooking his arms around your legs and picking you up and flipping you two around so now that you were on the bottom, dangling his chain in your face, he started to fuck you with content in his eyes.
Your eyes rolled back to the back of your skull as you felt him hitting your spot over and over again. “Oh fuck!” you cursed into the air resulting in a smile from Marshawn. “Aw Come on baby, What’s wrong? Can’t take all of me?” he growled, making the pit in your stomach grow wilder.
“Fuck, Fuck, Fuck! I’m finna cum!” you chanted over and over again.
“Hold it- J-just a little bit l-longer.” he threw his head back pleading, matching his strokes with your whimpers.
You hated when he didn’t let you cum, even when you wanted to soooo bad you knew you couldn’t disobey him, the punishment would’ve been something to tell the captain.
He dropped his head to see you cry tears of pleasure, in love with the beautiful sight of you taking him and all of him, he could look at this all day long. “Cum.” was all that was needed as you both had your climax together, the sounds leaving his mouth sounded like heaven to your ears and harmonized with yours as he painted your walls with his cum.
He softly collapsed on top of you still inside you, holding you close as he rocked his hips into you. “Oh my god,”
“Oh my god indeed.” He laughed, giggling at you whimpering as he slowly pulled out, his nut oozing out of your pussy.
He left the balcony for a few minutes and returned with a warm towel to wipe you clean, planting kisses on your forehead as he sat beside you on the other chair, grabbing the blunt from earlier that was resting in the ashtray.
You flipped over to your side and stared at him, admiring what kind of man you scored, you felt like the most luckiest girl in the world to have him, to be cared about, to feel loved, to be adored by someone who didn’t care how big you were, you were his, wasn’t nothing changing that.
You two started at the sunset with each other taking turns to hit the blunt, it wasn't a damn thing that could dim your happiness, not even a negative Nancy that was yelling at you two from below, you both snickering before running back inside the room, shutting the door and jumping into bed.
im genuinely curious about what is so hard to treat a woman. A BLACK WOMAN. A WOMAN WHO WAS NURTURING TO YOUR UGLY MUTT ASS. with the utmost respect she deserves after EVERYTHING SHE HASBEEN THROUGH!?!?
im not going to lie to yall, i would love to write a book where its a older lady and a younger guy but reasonable(ish) age difference, but the guy is like a goofy little guy and the lady is divorced who still talks to her ex husband cause she’s bored but she’s very no nonsense.
im not going to lie to yall, i would love to write a book where its a older lady and a younger guy but reasonable(ish) age difference, but the guy is like a goofy little guy and the lady is divorced who still talks to her ex husband cause she’s bored but she’s very no nonsense.
im not going to lie to yall, i would love to write a book where its a older lady and a younger guy but reasonable(ish) age difference, but the guy is like a goofy little guy and the lady is divorced who still talks to her ex husband cause she’s bored but she’s very no nonsense.
“cause truth is if i wanted to do ANYTHING to you, you not stronger than me to fight back” SO THROW ME ON THE BED AND MAKE ME TAKE THAT DIQUEEEEEEEUHHHHHH
