#how i started

[semiweirdshipper]

How it all started.

I've been having a lot of wonderful conversations with my friends and viewers on this account, and a lot of them have asked how my journey with slashers and Dead by Daylight began. Well, it's a super long story with lots of crazy twists, so I decided to make a long, useless post about it. I just feel like sharing. I'm sorry.

It all started with this handsome fella. Victor Creed from X-men Origins. He's the one who got me interested in reader-insert fanfiction.

I was writing Victor way, way, way before my slasher fanfics. He was part of my oldest OTP Victor x Wade. But, the thing was... I had a crush on Vic, which was weird because I never find any characters attractive, but for whatever reason, he was the exception. He's one of only three characters I think are attractive. I had searched up his name in the archive in search for whatever I could find (which wasn't very much, sadly), and I came across reader fanfiction. The few reader-insert fics with Victor were too sexual for my taste, but I enjoyed them nonetheless. The second-person pov gave me a new outlook, and I was enamored.

Victor will always be my favorite bad guy. He's part of my OTP. And he's one of my favorite characters in general. He jump-started this entire thing by introducing me to reader-insert fanfiction and proving that I have some kind of obsession with intimidating bad guys being gentle. He's my king.

A year or so later, and I randomly came across the SlashStreet Boys song "Die by My Knife".

Besides Ghostface, I didn't know who any of them were. My first thought was "who the f*ck are these weirdos?" And, eventually, I did some research and learned that they were from old horror films. At first I wasn't really interested in any of it. I thought the song was fun and catchy, but I didn't have any desire to actually learn about the characters. HOWEVER...

The seed Victor planted in me caused me to seek out other potential bad guys to read fanfiction about. And that's when the next step took place.

A Nightmare on Elm Street. My first slasher film- the film that brought out a deep, dark desire inside of me.

Watching this made me feel something I had never felt before. No, not sexual desire, but it was desire. I realized some sad things about myself. I've ran for my life before, many times. I've begged for mercy. And I've been hurt much like the characters in the movie. And, shamefully, I remember always wanting it all to just stop. Freddy's potential as a fictional bad guy made my traumatized ass yearn for some form of comfort and clarity in which I had never gotten in real life. Sad and messed up, I know.

I tried to ignore this deep desire for a while. I thought I was just being insane. Who wants to seek comfort from fictional serial killers?

Secretly, I ended up watching more slasher films like Texas Chainsaw, Halloween, Friday The 13th and a few others. I decided that Michael was a good figure to start with. I asked my old writing friend if she knew who he was and if she had ever read any fanfiction about him (we both liked bad guys, but for different reasons), and she introduced me to Dead by Daylight.

Dead by Daylight. The fandom that ruined my longest friendship, but also helped me to realize that that friendship was toxic to begin with, and I could indulge in some awesome comfort tropes.

My writing friend had been with me since I was 14 years old. She was more than just my writing buddy. She was my life-giver. We wrote profusely together every single day. She had no idea what horrible things she was distracting me from in my life. I envied her and I loved her. And because of that gratitude, I never realized how much she was taking advantage of me. I was just happy to have a friend. She never let me write my own stories. She made me beta-read her own stories. We had to do everything she wanted to do. She would never indulge my own ideas. She made me write rape and underage tropes. I was too scared of losing her to say no.

And then, she finally f*cked up by introducing me to Dead by Daylight. She wanted to write Michael Myers raping characters like Jake, Dwight or David. I never told her that I wanted to write fluffy reader-insert fanfiction (she didn't approve of reader-insert stuff). So I went along with it... For a little bit.

Little did she know, but I had created a different account to publish my first two reader-insert fanfics with Michael Myers. The Flowers, and The Knife That Reminds were my first two slasher stories I ever wrote, and I was so scared of my friend finding out that I created a different account for them.

Time went on, and I started playing dbd and learning more about it, and I realized that I had a whole bucket of opportunities presented before me. Bad guys galore. Comfort potential galore! I was swimming in a goldmine.

I moved my two Micheal Myers stories back to my original account, and I started writing dbd fanfiction. My friend wanted to keep writing rape, but I finally, for the first time ever, said no to her. I didn't want to write rape anymore. She got upset, and we got into a fight. I poured out my feelings, she played the victim, and we eventually stopped talking to each other. I lost a lot that day, but I found something even more precious.

I found all of you.

At first, my slasher stories were written as a form of comfort for myself. But, more people enjoyed them than I could have ever hoped for. I may have learned just how much my best friend didn't care about me, but I was able to grow and heal, and I soon found better friends. Lots of them. And I'm so grateful.

I'm so sorry that this story is long and messy. I don't know why I shared it. It's just difficult to find a spot to explain how my journey began, so I stair-cased it, lol. Thank you for reading. I hope you all are doing well 🩷

[chubbyttt3]

Why I made this acc!

The reason why I made this account is because I rlly wanted to make a ttte infection au with lots of lore into it.

Percy is my favorite (still is) but then I lost some interest in Percy and started liking the Scottish twins especially Douglas.

I have a friend who likes ttte and has a collection of ttte toys, and playing with them got me to like and watch ttte.

Shed 17 and sodor fallout really freaked me out, mostly shed 17 because how gross it was.

Sorry if this is so short and has bad grammar in it,

[healinghealthy]

FMLS90 - Week 2 10/17 -  Do you have a budget? How do you plan for and deal with unexpected expenses?

If you want to follow as well: FMLS90 Week 2

I do have a budget we use something similar to excel on my husbands mac book, I’ve had a budget for about 3 years now. Though at first it was just minimal changes.

Its meant that we came out of university with no debt (£10,000 that i still had left over from pervious debts) and we even had some savings.

It also makes you feel finacially secure, we know where out money is going, how much we have for food, savings and then what we’re aloud to spend each month. We have minimal debt whch we maintain only to improve our credit rating and we’ve been able to move without getting into debt.

Unexpected expenses, we save a little each week that goes into another account and that’s our just in case and if it’s really a lot we have emergency credit cards or bigger savings.

I’m find money wise, It’s not a worry and not something I really need to think about apart from editing the budget to include the extra we’ll now need for the new place.

But I do feel like everyone should budget, it really opens your eyes to what you are spending and makes you feel in control and less like you have no money.

If you want to budget as well you have to be really honest with yourself.

BUDGETING 101 (or a guide to how I started)

You have to be really honest with yourself and how you are actually spending your money each month, it won’t happen over night, but you can take control of your money. It just requires some self control, as a former shopperholic it does get easier.  I promise.

Bills -

What you earn, and benifits on top etc.

Then work out all your out goings, tv, phone bills, rent, water, etc. (everything)

Figure out if you can live without some of those things, like if you don’t actually use netflix get rid of it.

Can you change to a diffrent cheaper supplier for gas + electric

switch to a cheaper tariff if you can, for go having a new phone and just get  a cheap contract.

Can you get help wih bills ( some people can get help with water depending on what they get etc. Look about see if you can get money off.)

Food -

Budget and meal plan food, see what you already have and what you can make with it, plan acordingly what you are going to buy on that shop.

Don’t only buy branded food when you shop, the stores own or even basic are fine. You can use herbs and spices to help with flavours and I have fed a family of 3 on a £30 weekly budget before.

I can usual stretch a £70 budget now two weeks.

Be creative. with your meals and try something new. I love experimenting in the kitchen.

We separate packs of meat, a pack of 6 chicken breasts will do 3 meals and then leftovers.A portion of 500g of mince I’ll cut in half, its more economical to buy the bigger pack but I can make more mealswhen I cut it in half. 

Be more aware of portion control. If you struggle use smaller plates to eat off of, your mind will think you have eaten more.

Also pad meals out with vegetables and beans. Not only will you be getting a more varied diet, but you will also save money.

Debt -

Try not use your creidt card, leave it at home so you won’t be tempted, switch the balance to a 0% intrest one so you won’t be paying intrest each month.

See how much you have left over once you have cut out things you don’t need. How much can you give to debt each month without being super broke and then turning to more debt ( be realistic)

If you have mutiple sources of debt, give more to one until it’s paid off quicker and this leave you more money to then use on the other debts. repeat until you clear all the debt.

Savings -

After this see what your left over with each month, start a pennies jar ( you’ll be surprised how much this mounts up.) Even if you can only afford to save £5 a week, start a savings account.

If you can afford more, try and make sure you have seperate savings for diffrent things and an emergenry fund.

Emergency funds are great, they are there if you fall short one month, or for birthdays that you have forgotten about. (guilty)

[to-worship-hermes]

from ShannonWestmeyer on Etsy

[diaryofasupergroupie]

Groupie Initiation (pt. 2)

My awakening of the previous night brought me into a state of need and urgency. I remember not being able to believe that people behaved like that. People would meet each other open the doors of the tour van and ravage their lips. I was never religious but getting kissed like that made me believe in sin. The school girl I still was left me replaying the words from the previous night over and over in my head. We have more shows this week, you should come. How dare he invite me to a world I knew nothing about! How dare he kiss me like I was a woman and then leave without telling me an address, a number, a time. At the start musicians will expect you to do all the leg work. You are a complete nobody no matter how pretty or funny or outrageous you are. They are a whole lot of somebodies – an immediate power imbalance that nobody in the scene wants to talk about.

I searched Myspace – now you have an insight on when I entered the scene - and I rifled through magazines and found their gig – a bus ride away. My sense of danger has never been good. Taking risks comes natural to me. I caught a bus that night all fishnet stockings, borrowed heels and hopeful eyes. I didn’t have my bus fair home. I didn’t tell anyone where I was really headed. All I brought was my cousin’s lipstick and a lighter. It was going to be a conversation starter with L and then the whole band. We would all joke about it and then D would kiss me again. The mind set of a teenager that obsessed with music and this new scene she had found was making her delusional. These were all also things no one should ever do. Each one of them could get a fourteen year old girl who wore her heart on her sleeve killed – besides maybe offering D a lighter.

I found the venue and headed in the equally dank, dark, grimy shoebox of a place without any ticket or money. My little heart was pounding and the only thing pulling me forwards was the way that the music had touched my soul in a way nothing else in my short life had. The man inside asked for my ticket. He was a huge bouncer like man that scared the life out of me. I actually came to know him quite well later – he was old Army and has three kids, two in university. I probably took a deep breath or maybe I stopped breathing all together. Most likely the latter, I used to panic a lot. “My tickets are inside.” I squeaked out and he let me past but regarded me with dangerous suspicion. I had broken the first barrier but I didn’t know enough about getting to the band to know what the next one was. Even that wouldn’t fly if I tried to enter the scene now.

Roadies were setting up onstage and were shouting orders while the early fans waited. They were barking at each other and flitting past security and through a doorway. They all had stickers on with their name written in scribbles. Tour laminates only really took place when bands start progressing. When they’re not big enough the expense is always too much. I didn’t have one of the stickers so I hung around the stage. My head went from side to side like an animal with paranoia someone was going to kick me out and leave me wanting. Eventually a group of them went backstage and I followed close behind. The best way to get back your first time is to blend. But that wouldn’t be possible now, security is so much tighter. You need to know someone to get back there. That’s why you can’t use this post as a guideline. It’s a lot harder now and you can’t just sneak backstage, especially if you’re not in a shoebox of a venue.

I followed the group of men wearing tired clothes and the door opened. Out walked D and L. D saw me and grinned. He was never charming back then, he was unapologetic. He called out to me and gave me a hug making the frenzy of anticipation that had held me all day get loose. Then I was pulled back and the big tough bouncer type looked down on me. I felt like all my hopes had been scattered, all my wishes had been dashed. I was here. I had everything in my grasp. “She’s with us.” D said. I felt like I had really achieved something. He let me go and I clung to D like a toddler clings to its mother. He gave me a quick kiss to remind me I was here and it wasn’t all just something I had made up in my head.

He took me to a room where the band were and I knew it was real. It’s a hard thing to describe to someone who has never been backstage, even in those tiny little rooms in those tiny little venues. Backstage isn’t a place, it’s a feeling. This time I’ll talk about that room and not the ones you get in arenas. It was tiny with a table for booze and some fold up chairs in the corner. There was a bowl of skittles balancing on an abandoned kick drum that someone was pouring cheap vodka into. The people are packed in like sardines and you can feel everyone’s breath when you make your way forward to get a drink. D poured me some vodka with soda and I took an unhealthy gulp. I had only drank a handful of times before. There were band guys on one side of the room, girls on the other and the odd one had fought through into no man’s land. It was like a school dance, except much edgier.

D asked me what I thought and I didn’t know a cool way to say everyone here were beautiful people who drank and smoked and did other equally rebellious things while I was pretending to be one of them secretly thinking about my curfew. I told D that it was cool but I had done this tons of times. He called me a liar. Everyone in the scene knows everyone, even the American girls know the British girls. I didn’t know that then though. He called over one of the girls in no man’s land and she was my first every experience of what a groupie was. There are different kinds of groupies, two kinds were there that night. There are those who wear tight dresses, too much make-up and are there to sleep with the band. Today they would just be called band whores – them suck off the band to name drop type girls. Then there were the other girls – the flower child, psychedelics, no bra, dreaming of the 60’s type girls. She was one of them girls who walked on air, that Woodstock type. She was a magical pixie with red wavy hair that brushed her waist. She was like Ariel on acid. Her skinny arms wrapped around me and pulled me to her chest engulfing me with her free spirit she would throw around like confetti and that clung to everything around her like glitter.

Her name was V. She was fifteen pretending to be eighteen. V linked arms with me and led me through the mass of bodies. She had a line of blue WKD bottles that were entirely reminiscent of a certain time and a certain place. In my ear she whispered a commentary to the backstage debauchery that in retrospect was very timid compared to what it would be like when the crowd changed later. There were girls standing in one corner who looked glamorous and alluring with long eyelashes and breasts that filled out their bras. They were with another band, a much bigger band. They were the old ones who were retiring. Groupies have a sell by date with anything over twenty eight getting thrown in the used pile. Everyone talks about the size of Connie Hamzy’s balls but no one actually wants to be her – on her knees, sucking off the singer, guitarist, drummer, bass player, tour manager, roadie and intern at the age of fifty. V and a couple of other girls were the next generation. They were first generation – groupies who didn’t know anyone. First generations are the ones who made their way backstage because of their own resilience. They were committed to the cause.

I said earlier that backstage isn’t a place it’s a feeling. Backstage is loud music, free beer and freedom. It is dancing on tables, junk food mixed with spirits, girls being pulled onto the knees of men who have guitars resting on the other. Backstage is the spirit of the music industry, the good parts without any of the deadlines or trivial interests. I was fourteen and out of my depth but I knew backstage was a place filled with geniuses and their muses doing what felt good because it felt good. That is why you can’t separate sex, drugs and rock’n’roll. You do what feels good. It is a selfish place.

D pulled me out with him when he went to go out. The older girls were watching me like disapproving mothers. D was their son and I was his shiny new toy. Who knew when he would use me and get bored? If you let them they will. He pushed me against the wall of the corridor in front of everyone and kissed me as he did before. His lips were against mine and everyone saw. God, I thought I had made it. I felt so important. He treated me rough and did what he wanted, no wonder I was always left wanting more. I was a girl who had been raised to take a peck on the cheek and he was showing me the reason we were born with lips. Deep in my stomach I felt a knot and it loosened when he pulled away. I tried to catch my breath but I would have given it all to him. He kissed me again which such vigour. I felt needed. There was so much need in between our lips.

Then he was grabbed by his shirt and pulled roughly against the opposite wall. L pushed him forwards and away from me leaving me exhausted and panting with no one looking up or even caring about the obvious display of blooming womanhood. V grabbed my hand and took me out after the band and to the back of the venue. Now girls stand side stage but back then they stood at the back unless they were brought on stage by the amp or behind the drummer. She didn’t say anything to me while the band played. We were one in the same, I found my soul sister. I didn’t talk or move. We felt the music and it went from the stage deep inside of me bringing feelings of unbridled ecstasy. To feel the music deep inside of you and get lost in it while the men who play it lose themselves too is goosebumps over the skin and sharp inhales leaving you breathless. To know those men know you and could be getting lost in you is selfish joy and school girl daydreams.

The gig had good music that had hot and sweaty bodies crashing into one another. V took me backstage and D came to me in the corridor. He was sweaty and his hair fell into his face as he pushed me into the pathetic excuse for a green room and pulled me down onto his lap. He pecked my neck which is daring and exciting when kisses have only been had on the lips. He tried to put his hand inside my tank top and through the attention and groupie baptism I had the sense to bat his hands away. He listened as he would always listen and kept me on his lap while the next band played. There were feet on the table and the bowl of skittles and vodka was being passed around but his arms were around my waist in ownership and this new girl wasn’t up for anyone. He had called dibs on the virgin pretending to be something she wasn’t.

The clean-up after was quick and all the other girls were drunk. A paid for a taxi back to our city for V and I. Before we left D gave me a quick kiss and took my number where he definitely saved my name followed by my city. The words he said ignited a need in me like he did the night before. “You’re different, you should keep coming to shows.” You can’t get a taste of being in the music no matter how briefly and just go back to drinking in parks and on the street. The music and the men who make it works its way inside of you. It did me, and I never could get it out.                 

[quagmireisadora]

One sunny afternoon in 2011

@ranithepirate ahhh 300+ that is so many ah

It's funny how so many of us fic writers got into things by reading other people's work and going "actually, I think I have an idea of how to write this with xyz". But the most amazing thing has been how much we've all grown since our first fics.

Ofc I started with an OnHo (because not many people on my radar were writing it at the time and I just like doing things that other people don't) and ofc it all started as lovey dovey romance type blurbs which then transformed into hulking piles of smut because of the overwhelming response those sorts of stories get. But I think at some point I realised--wait. What am I getting out of this? How is this benefiting me as a person? Do I really enjoy the stories I create? Am I doing anything worthwhile? Am I growing in some way? Asking myself these questions gradually led me to come to terms with my own sexuality, my own sense of being, my own self esteem. And it made me realise that I don't want to be a fic writer. I want to be a storyteller.

I met someone, then. Someone I could talk to, someone I could listen to. Someone who did not judge me, but said hey come I'll hold you for a while and read what you have to say and tell you a little something of my own. I met someone and it did not validate how I felt about myself, but it expanded what I understood of myself. Of my feelings and capabilities. That one year with Iffat was full and happy and as close to perfect as anything could've been. And I have no doubt that I loved her. So I think the biggest turning points for my writing have been experiences in my personal relationships. Losing the one you love and trying to build yourself back up into a basic person again is probably the most daunting thing to expect of anyone. But writing here was good for the mind. Writing here was good for venting.

I met someone else ofc, several years later. And he healed me well. As best as he could, anyway. I never loved him but he gave me all of his heart and that was humbling. It was flattering beyond belief. I think I did some really great writing in that time, and then quietly slid it into a corner of my life when things changed between the two of us. I don't hold him in spite but the aftertaste of that relationship was great fuel for writing.

Over the six years, I've never met anyone quite like @hyeongsoap. She and I have forever been proponents of telling untold stories. Of speaking about women (and men) like us, retelling their experiences and their pains and their troubles. But also their victories, their joys, what makes them powerful. We found great happiness in letting out our voices through these fics (and also in finding one another ♡)

Writing for this fandom has played a big role in developing an understanding of myself. Working on these stories and their characters, creating unseen universes from nothing has taken a lot of time and given me a lot to think about. A lot to debate on. A whole lot of lovely amazing talented friends. And a lot to look back at and say, yep. This has been good.

It will be really cool to hear from other fic writers on how they got into doing the wonderful things they do for this fandom.

[chubbyttt3]

how I started.

this account was made in December, all the stuff made in December-January were old. Then I made the chubbyttte account because I started to like the gwr team (especially Donald and Douglas.) and I wanted to try to become popular.

(I don’t understand my grammar