el @milkavich - Tumblr Blog

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captain-flint

Finnpoe + hands

captain-flint

Poe looking stupidly in love when reuniting with Finn

loonathelesbian

on god i will never stop thinking about these parallels

damnnmilkovich

Mickey Milkovich feat. his gentle thug hands.

fishfingersandscarves

things i’d like to see in s2

valeriapryanikova

Do You Love The Colour Of The Sky?

Do You Know The History Of The Dream SMP?

(speedpaint)

veeaziel

every day i am percieved™️

biggest-gaudiest-poltergeist

There is a reason for this though!

The original tweet summarizes it pretty well. Fanfic tends to be popular among certain types of neurodivergent people (aka people most likely to read excessively as a child, and have burnout as an adult) for the same reasons that we tend to hyperfixate–neurochemical signaling (I hope I’m using that phrase correctly). What I mean is, for people who are really dependent on changes in dopamine/serotonin/neurotransmitter levels, who have low levels or wonky neural reward systems (perhaps the most common types of neurodivergence)…people like us rely on dependable external sources of those neurochemicals. In order to function, we spend a lot of our free time trying to level out our brain chemistry using things that can reliably bring us a steady stream of joyful moments (rewards) without costing too much of the mental effort that is already in short supply.

significantly: the investment of reading has to be balanced with a steady “return on investment”–and this return has to start fairly quickly. because again, we don’t have a lot of attention/energy to invest on tiring things. we have perpetual “low batteries” in that regard.

that doesn’t mean these stories are “simple,” or that they lack complexity or value–only that the reward has to come in short regular intervals, and it has to have a low “upfront cost.” these stories are only “easy” to read in the sense that the effort we put into them is rewarded in a timely manner. which is why fanfic stories are so perfectly formulated for neurodivergent readers–they are often beautifully written, but skip a lot of the upfront costs (of introducing new characters, of world-building, of getting the audience emotionally connected to the story elements).

the nature of fanfiction is that the reader has a pre-existing relationship with this world and these characters. that–combined with the shorter average length of fics–means that fan fics very quickly start rewarding the reader in a way that traditional fiction struggles to. that’s not a bad thing! and maybe it’s something more traditionally published writers should be paying attention to.

Fanfic, as a genre, has been uniquely helpful and accessible to many neurodivergent readers who would otherwise struggle to immerse themselves in stories. I’m glad so many of you have found a way to love and enjoy reading again! The important thing is that you are spending time inside stories you love–the way those stories are published or presented to the world is just one detail. The fact that you find joy in the process of reading (or listening!) to stories–that is what matters.

attackofjak

I feel understood 🥰

biggest-gaudiest-poltergeist

a bunch of people have reblogged this with the default “i feel called out” reaction….and i know when we say that we mean it tongue-in-cheek….but this comment sorta blew my mind & shifted my perspective up and to the left a little thank you♥

zadabug98

The Serotonin is stored in the Ao3

biggest-gaudiest-poltergeist

The Serotonin is stored in the Ao3

breedxblemickey

“if you cry, i’ll cry ─ and that won’t be fun for anyone.” 😬😍

hi evie i love you 😚 thank you for sending this! it gave more another excuse to write wedding fluff. hope you like!!

mickey never thought he would get married.

not when he was young and first discovering who he was. certainly not when he was a teenager hiding one of the most shameful things about himself. and definitely not when he first busted into the kash and grab screaming ian’s name.

it was just never on the cards for him. “fucked for life” he always used to say. and he meant it. every time those words left his lips, he fucking meant it.

but here he is, standing in the gallagher boy’s bedroom, ian’s hand wrapped over the nape of his neck. he's dressed in a rented tux, an engagement ring wrapped around his finger. long fingers trace across his skin, over his ear and up into his hair.

mickey never thought he'd get married. but he's getting married today. and it's not tinged with pain, or suffering, or terror, like last time. no. this time, mickey's marrying the one he loves.

ian leans forward, his eyes slipping closed as he presses their foreheads together. they’re both breathing a little hard, air stuttering between their teeth as they consider what will be happening only a few hours from now.

ian’s already hit him with his words of the future, words about kids and raising them and making that commitment when they’re ready. when mickey’s hands no longer shake as they pick up franny from the floor, when ian isn’t reminded of a bad time and a long car ride.

mickey doesn't know if he'll ever be ready. but that doesn't matter, not right now, not when ian's leaning into him, dressed in his own tux that mickey picked out because he wanted everything to be perfect. he wanted this time to be perfect. and with ian standing before him, hand holding him close as they breathe, mickey doesn't think there has ever been anything more perfect than him. than them.

“i’ve always known it would be you,” ian says, soft and sure. “even when i didn’t know who i was, i knew i couldn’t be me without you.”

it feels like a punch to the chest, but in a good way, a way that leaves goosebumps rippling across his skin. nothing like any of the hits mickey’s experienced in his life. it fills him with warmth, makes his lips twitch into a smile and his eyes burn with probably the first happy tears he’s ever cried in his life.

“you remember when we went to that sox game?” ian continues, his eyes still shut as he whispers words into the miniscule space between them. “when we first started seeing each other? i remember watching you jump the turnstiles, and you turned back with this fucking smile and i swear, mick, my heart stopped fucking beating.”

mickey’s breath hitches, the tears on his lashes building as he stares at ian’s face.

“you… i never saw that smile with anyone else. and i remember thinking, fuck, if i can make him smile like that for the rest of my life, i can die happy.”

that’s when the dam breaks. mickey clamps his lips shut against a tiny sob, a tear dropping from his eyes onto his cheek. ian’s eyes fly open, his face morphing into pure panic.

“mick- no, oh, mickey,” he fumbles, his other hand lifting to mickey’s cheek, thumbs brushing away the tears. “please don’t cry. you can’t cry on our wedding day.”

a wet laugh bubbles from mickey’s throat. “why not, gallagher?”

“because if you cry, i’ll cry and that won’t be fun for anyone.” as if to prove his point, ian sniffs, his eyes suddenly bright. “we’ll look like a couple of idiots at the alter.”

mickey shakes his head fondly, reeling ian in to press a kiss to his lips. when he pulls away, he whispers, “i don’t care. as long as it ends with us married, i couldn’t care less what we fucking look like.”

ian does start crying then, but it’s okay. because mickey isn’t fucked for life anymore, he’s ready for it. as long as he has ian by his side, he’s ready for anything.