Fic writers with weekly updates: I’m sorry this 12k chapter is so short and took me so long!
Me, thinking about the 43 words I took 5 months to write: what the actual fuck

Andulka
Cosimo Galluzzi
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda

roma★

tannertan36
cherry valley forever
TVSTRANGERTHINGS

Origami Around

izzy's playlists!

★
NASA
YOU ARE THE REASON

shark vs the universe

Discoholic 🪩
h
tumblr dot com
Today's Document
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he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
Monterey Bay Aquarium

seen from United Kingdom
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@demaindear
Fic writers with weekly updates: I’m sorry this 12k chapter is so short and took me so long!
Me, thinking about the 43 words I took 5 months to write: what the actual fuck
OFFICIAL Hobbit Ratings
A perfect boy! Radiates warmth & goodness! So gentle, so full of love. 11/10
Another perfect boy! So brave and strong. Winner of world’s biggest heart award. 11/10
Beautiful boy! Handsome boy! Brave & passionate. Loves his friends so much. Never gives up. 11/10
Precious boy! Small but powerful. So determined, tries so hard. Kind, loving, courageous. 11/10
gansey definitely wears socks to bed don’t even argue this point with me
When life gives you lemons be like “wow this fic is really old”
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Four times Ronan and Adam pretended to date, and one time they didn't.
(I’m back woop!!!)
Fic writers with weekly updates: I’m sorry this 12k chapter is so short and took me so long!
Me, thinking about the 43 words I took 5 months to write: what the actual fuck
angels above, angels below
Bringing this back for Barricade day. Still quite proud of it<3 A Fallen Angel!Graintare au. (ao3)
Paris was loud. It wasn’t the first word that had come to mind when Grantaire first saw it, nor was it the most fitting, but it captured the spirit of the city in a way that other words couldn't. At least, mortal words. It had shocked him at first, the contrasting colours, the ever changing dynamics of individuals, the living chaos. The cold, the night, the people. The latter were the loudest, they spent their life screaming. All their actions, the following consequences, the failures and successes, all echoing through history and never in the same pace. It was the mortal life, and it was deafening.
this is what Shakespeare would have wanted
uhh
Have I been writing? eh no. But I’m finishing the Swedish version of high school in 45 days (aaaaah) and then I’m going to get back into writing and I can’t wait. See yall then!!
(this is mainly for myself to force myself to write because I made a promise online you know)
my pet peeve are fic summaries with something deep and obscure that not only tell me nothing about the story but dont MEAN anything theyre just words like
‘When lost eyes lock onto a summer’s shadow, will love make it in the end?? [content warnings]: anal fisting ‘
I think I just inhaled coffee through my nose.
to commenters on AO3
if you’re like “this fic was posted [x] number of days/weeks/months/years ago, it’s too late to post a comment,” let me tell you. no. it is never too late to comment. maybe someone else will see your comment and decide to read it. maybe the writer will see it, maybe they won’t, but if they do i guarantee they won’t be like “who’s this n00b commenting on my old fic” they’ll be like !!!! someone is reading my old stuff!!!! every time an AO3 comment is posted an angel gets its wings etc etc
Never stop reblogging. —it’s the holiday season —go be angel and make someone’s day!!
Me, atop a small mountain of unfinished projects, prompts, half-baked ideas, essays, and unanswered asks: I am a Writer
Being a good writer is 3% talent and 97% not being distracted by the internet.
— the writer reblogs, being distracted by the internet (via anamatics)
yo okay so here’s the thing
writing fic is hard. rlly rlly rlly hard because there’s this weird snobby elitism that comes along with writing and fic just doesn’t make the cut. and for me, someone who has been writing their whole lives, to be able to jump into worlds i already love and play with the characters, it’s a gift. but it’s also something i feel like i have to keep a secret, like it’s weird and nerdy and perverse somehow. and obviously that’s not true but that doesn’t make me feel like i have to keep it any less of a secret
and the point of this is to say that, if someone wants to talk about fic with you, talk to them. it means they trust you with this weird nerdy secret. when someone you follow posts something, like it. hell, reblog it and add comments. go to their ask and rant about it. on ao3, comment the shit out of it. because we literally live for validation from readers, because it’s not like fic gets any love irl.
be nice to fic writers, writing fic is hard
a young child: *tells me basic knowledge*
me: no way!!!!!!!! 00000000000:
#one time a five year old asked me what the world was made of and i said ‘rocks and dirt and water and stuff’#and he said ‘no silly it’s made of atoms!! they’re so small we can’t even see them’#i’m never talking down to children again i’ve never been so thoroughly wrecked in my entire life
Kisses at night
She only kisses him at night.
When most of the crew are dreaming in their pods, when the lights are dimmed and the only sound is the soft humming coming from the ship, he goes to her. It is only then she’ll let him into her room, her bed and through the walls around her.
She’s fierce, but there is a deliberate caution in the beginning, she’s careful not to assume, not to take for granted, careful not to overstep any more boundaries than they already have. She presses her lips to his cheek, sliding her own cheek against his, her nose following his jaw before pressing kisses along it. He takes her head in his hands and kisses her.
At once there is hunger, fingers clutching his shoulders, breathing into his mouth. His hands on her waist, back, face, her gripping and pulling, pushing into him, whispering his name between her breaths. He simply holds her, his mouth keeping up with the pace she’s setting, savoring every moment. She pulls away to catch her breath, her lips red, wet and swollen. He imagines he looks similar. He says her name and leans in to kiss her again. She smiles against his lips. At night, he loves her.
At day, there is nothing. Professional banter and mission-related questions. No secret hand holding beneath the table, no heated gazes or shy smiles. During the day, she is his commander. During the night, well, it varies from night to night who takes control. Deep down it hurts more than it feels good and he should stop it. He shouldn’t let her use him to keep her bed warm, and almost ignore him during the day. But then she starts whispering his name back and it’s over. Where else could he go?
Merry Christmas to Karla (@adampamish) the other half of my avocado ily<3
What a strange constellation they all were.