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imagine-your-love-story · 2 years

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I know I’m late to the thread on DNIs, but the general culture surrounding them is pretty much why I just put a statement in my bio that essentially boils down to “I’m an adult. I post XYZ content. If that makes you uncomfortable, you need to unfollow and block me.” I 1000% read and respect other people’s DNIs, but I personally just don’t vibe with having one myself. It makes me feel like I have to play hall monitor or be up to the minute on toxic discourse in a space that’s supposed to make me happy first and foremost. I hope my thoughts make sense lmao

Good point, anon!! Thank you for sharing that!

Since more people have been commenting on the DNI debacle, let’s get into more real talk here:

Some people list a DNI on every single post they create. Big red letters, “FUCK YOU AND DON’T INTERACT IF YOU’RE...” followed by a long list of abbreviations, terms, labels, etc.

Some people have MEGA long DNIs.

A couple problems with this:

1. A DNI is often your first impression of someone.

So when I see super long DNIs, or really aggressive ones saying, “ FUCK YOU AND DON’T INTERACT IF YOU’RE...”

I won’t go anywhere NEAR that person. Most regular folks won’t.

Long DNI’s make it seem like you’re reading the fine print of a contract to join an elite, private club.

That’s too intense for me. If you’re really going to analyze every single person down to the iota before deigning to interact with them, I’ll pass.

Aggressive “Fuck you” DNIs seethe with hostile energy. I’ve seen cute posts on my dash from new users and then at the bottom “fuck you don’t interact if you’re...” and I skip right by them (after blocking them).

Which is sad. Potential friendships aren’t even given a chance here.

But that’s a lot of aggression to hold onto for every single post and I don’t want any part of it.

2. The self-ship community’s love of labels can be off-putting

I’m going to be totally honest here: even though I’m in the self-ship community, I have no idea what 90% of these terms mean that are thrown around. Especially if one user thinks it means “X” but another user INSISTS it means “Y”.

I’m not here for that.

When someone has a long-ass DNI list full of these terms, I nope right out. Because I have no idea if I’m actually on that list or not.

I used to follow back everyone on my blog until I got hostile DMs, calling me out for being a terrible person because I violated their DNI. And I’m just sitting there like...???? I did?????

“YEAH. YOU SUPPORT MOLDY ORANGES. FUCK YOU.”

I still don’t know what they’re talking about.

I also find it incredibly ironic. You put your DNI out there. You found out someone violated it.

Block them. Done.

Why write them and get mad about it? That’s such a waste of your energy. On top of that, YOU continued the interaction of your own free will. You listed your DNI and then you interacted with them.

It’s just totally confusing to me.

So I rarely follow back other blogs anymore. Which is not the point of a community.

3. DNIs are often TOO effective.

This goes along with #1. Many DNIs drive people away - the fun-loving shippers that actually WANT to interact with you. But because you have this laundry list of “Don’t speak to me if you’re X” to read through and memorize, they don’t stick around.

I’ve seen several people say, “I just stick to my own lane these days. DNIs are intimidating.”

You’re literally turning EVERYONE away from you. Meanwhile, the really harmful people (predators, as is so often thrown around in the community) will have no problem disregarding your DNI.

4. Righteous anger

A common theme everyone seems to be tiptoeing around with DNIs is the righteous anger that is swift to follow a violated DNI.

“I TOLD YOU NOT TO INTERACT WITH ME. I HAVE EVERY RIGHT TO GET IN YOUR FACE.”

If someone is HARASSING you, that’s different. Yes, take necessary steps to protect yourself and be safe.

(I would argue that getting angry in this situation would only give the harasser the reaction they want, so anger isn’t in your best interest here either).

If someone accidentally violates your DNI, that’s not harassment. Now you’re just being a really unpleasant person with anger management issues.

There are times you will need to employ anger in your life. But it should NOT be a reaction that you immediately jump to for every little thing.

If you’re just hanging out with other selfshippers, chatting about hot villains and cute platonic f/os, anger should not be part of the equation. At all.

***

I understand (and advocate!) for some kind of disclaimer/note in your bio - i.e. I’m an adult, this is an adult space, block if you don’t like - but the avid use of DNIs continues to leave me baffled.

I’ve been on tumblr for...*counts on fingers*...way too long and the self-ship community is really the only community I’ve been a part of that upholds DNIs so rigidly.

I’m not sure what it’s about and I try to not get involved. I’m just here to hang out and chat about cute fictional characters - stress free pls.

Disclaimer: If DNIs make you feel comfortable in an online space, go for it! But please consider the following:

Be mindful of the tone you use.

Consider condensing your DNI for quick, simple, and easy reading so you don’t come across quite as intimidating.

Consider proactive solutions (the block button) for users that really make you uncomfortable

#asks #anonymous #penny chats

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haikyuu-sickfics · 3 years

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Hello!If your doing requests can you make a very sick Kunimi with a stomach bug? And Oikawa and iwasumi find out… Hope your well! Dont do this if you dont want to!

(Its sad how much ppl dont write about kunimi)

cont.Hey I'm that anon that asked you for a kunimi sickfic and I forgot to add that ,, outside it was raining very heavily and it wasnt safe to go out so they had to stay in the gym for 1 hour .. Vomit Warning! Akira should've taken the ominous swirling that morning- both in the grey clouds and his stomach- as a sign.

But alas, he did not.

Instead he ignored both bad omens, walking to school as usual and attending all classes before changing clothes in the gym and half-assing practice.

The coaches paid him no mind. They were- begrudgingly- used to Akira underperforming in practice, and thus didn't pay any mind to the players sloppy movements.

Tooru and Hajime though, were convinced that something was wrong with their underclassman. They conspired with eachother in hushed tones, pointing out his slight limp and how his arms always remained hovered over his midsection. Concerned, Tooru tried to call Akira out to let him rest a bit. However, this only served to anger the coach who forced Akira to push himself harder, saying he'll need to earn a break.

In conclusion, practice was brutal. In the locker room Tooru attempted to confront Akira, but the latter just shrugged and ducked away, not wanting to admit a thing.

All Tooru could do was hope Akira was stable enough for the walk home.

The team made their way to the exit, most of them in partners chatting away. The first to reach the door and attempt to push it open was Issei.

"I think it's locked," he commented out loud after forcing his whole body weight onto the door.

Sadayuki made his way over to inspect the door, "it shouldn't be, I have the only key for this door."

With the combined body weights, the door cracked open, only to be slammed shut once more as a gust of wind pressed back with an even stronger force.

The coach stepped away and scratched his head before pulling out his phone and tapping through it for a minte.

"Well even if it would open I don't think I could let you guys go home," he looked up from the device in his hand, "'S too dangerous. The forecast says it's gonna let up in an hour or two, so just sit tight till then."

Akira could feel his heart drop into his roiling gut as the team murmered amongst themselves before walking to claim various areas in the gym to sit and talk. Akira moved too, intentionally avoiding Yuutarou's line of vision.

And so here he was, alone, miserable, sitting balled up in the corner of the gym waiting for the raging storm on the other side of the wall and inside of him to let up enough for him to walk home.

Tooru was only half interested in whatever his fellow third years were saying, casting constant glances towards Akira's corner nest. Every time he did something abnormal, i.e rub his eyes, run his fingers through his hair, clench his fists, bring his hand up to his mouth, Tooru tapped Hajime's shoulder.

Eventully Issei grew tired of this.

"Just go already, he probably needs someone and it's not like you're listening," Issei urged, nodding over to the corner.

Tooru nodded sheepishly, breifly apologizing for his rude manner before standing up and pulling Hajime over to the corner.

"Are you alright?" Tooru questioned, sitting down and getting comfortable before Akira had a chance to protest.

The very obviously not-alright boy weighed his options. A, tell the truth and get babied or B, lie, get called out, then get babied. It was a lose-lose situation, so Akira just shrugged.

Tooru pouted, placing a hand on Akira's back. Hajime took note of how Akira's eyes furrowed every time someone yelped or laughed a bit too loud.

"Let's go to the locker room, it'll be calmer" Hajime offered, extending his hand for Akira to take.

His shoulders shrugged once more, the rest of him not making any move to do anything alone but also not resisting when his upperclassmen helped him to his feet.

To make the walk across the gym less awkward, Tooru tried to stir up small talk.

"So, you guys would never guess what happened this morning," he began, supporting Akira's left side, "I was gonna fry an egg for my sister, right, but when I cracked the egg the yolk was all black and red and goey, but it was already on the pan so then it started burning- like IMMEDIATELY- and this awful, I mean awful smell came out! It was like moldy cheese stuffed inside of roadkill, I'm telling you it was bad, and-"

"Oikawa," Hajime warned, glancing over Akira's head wearily.

"No no no, but I'm telling you, like I swear it was like someone threw up in a pot, boiled it, then froze it and defrosted it in their dirty laundry."

Akira lurched, pulling himself out of Tooru and Hajime's grasp in favor of bracing himself against the floor.

"Shit," Hajime cursed, scooping up Akira before anyone noticed what was going on.

The ace speed walked to the locker room, Tooru on his heels.

Akira gagged over his chest, his nausea at a peak thanks to Tooru's cursedly detailed description.

"Hang on, hang on, hang on, we're almost there," Hajime repeated, weaving through the locker room to find the adjacent bathroom stalls.

He placed Akira on the floor in front of the first toilet, just in time it seemed as Akira gave one more noisy retch before coughing up a mouthful of his stomach contents.

"It's ok, get it out," Hajime comforted as Akira trembled in an attempt to suppress tears and his stomach, "seriously Shittykawa? Was that really the only thing you could think of talking about?"

Tooru rubbed at his arm, awkwardly standing in the corner, "It's the first thing that came to mind!"

"Just. Could you go get paper towels and his water bottle or something."

Desperate to be useful, Tooru quickly left to find the mentioned items.

Meanwhile, Akira was still fighting a losing battle with his stomach. He refused to let anything more than that lone mouthful out, instead allowing his face to turn red in strain and his body to curl in to itself.

"Hey hey hey, you need to breath," Hajime murmured, using his hands to straighten Akira's posture up and back over the porcelain bowl.

Akira sniffed in hesitantly before breathing out through his mouth.

"See, there you got it, in... and out," Hajime comforted.

"In... and out," Akira repeated, his voice shaky.

They sat there for about 10 seconds, just breathing until Akira's stomach gave an incredibly strong lurch, forcing a thick wave out before he even realized what was going on.

He coughed through tears, spitting as much as possible to rid his mouth of the horrid taste.

"It's okay, you got it," Hajime rubbed Akira's back, concern swimming laps in his irises.

Finally, Tooru returned.

"Think you can handle some water?" Hajime asked while nodding his thanks to Tooru.

Akira shrugged, wiping his mouth with one of the napkins.

Tooru reached over the both of them to flush the toilet.

"Let's try it, okay?"

Akira nodded, bringing the bottle up to his lips, rinsing his mouth before taking a few cautious sips. The water went down fine, his stomach seemingly done for the time being.

Closing his eyes, he leaned back, desperate for rest and support. Tooru sat down behind him, bringing his head to a rest on his lap, brushing his fringe back to check for a fever.

Frowning, Tooru whispered, "I think he's sick, he feels really hot."

"No shit, are you a doctor?" Hajime retorted in the same volume.

Tooru glared as if to say 'now is not the time.'

"Well what do we do?" Tooru asked, Akira's eyelids twitching in his sleep, "we can't just take him home, and I don't the gym is the best place for him right now."

"You heard coach, we've got an hour or two. We can take care of him in that time, How hard can possibly it be?"

Akira tilted his head to the side, coughing up a small amount of bile to illustrate just how hard it can possibly be.

"You're buying me new pants."

#tw: vomit #tw: emetophobia #tw: emeto #sickfic #kunimi #sick kunimi #haikyuu sickfic

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bon-nii · 3 years

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Sorry for spam reblogging from u but im very mad about episode 3 and ur blog conveyed pretty much everything i couldn't scream at my anime only fans friends

Omg hey anon don't worry about it, no need to apologize!! Honestly it makes me happy when I see people spam reblog from me like "damn ur going thru it too then?" 😭 My blog and inbox are always open for whatever <3

Glad you could find a voice thru all my TPN shitposts and reblogs. I know what it's like to be SUPER OBSESSED with something that none of your friends are obsessed with so you can't share it with anyone and then feel like you are gonna explode lmfao

Here are some thoughts I have about episode three below the cut. It got a bit long but I'm really passionate about this series aaaaa:

From an anime-only standpoint, I think it was a great episode. It lures the viewer into a false sense of security, only to drop two massive bombshells on them--the "Help" room and the call from William Minerva. From a manga standpoint, what the FUCK is going on!?

We have known for awhile now that the anime is going to change things up, so I have been trying to separate the anime from the manga a bit, in terms of plot and execution. I am not against this idea, but I am not really for it either. I think it is too early to determine whether this is a good call or not, but I'm not necessarily hopeful lol. But if done right, I think this anime-only thing could be a great addition to the story.

Unless they are fuckin, rewriting the ENTIRE story, I can't possibly imagine a reason why they would omit both Yuugo AND Goldy Pond--two of the most beloved and favorite things from the series.

Yuugo is everyone's favorite trash uncle, we all love his goofy ass, but I think a lot of people forget that he serves a very explicit and important purpose for the narrative. He represents what Emma could become if her plans, ideals, and dreams cost her everything. He is the second big challenge to Emma's ideals (the first being Isabella, the third being Norman). I really, REALLY would not understand why they would remove him, if they remove him.

There is a lot of disinformation going around about the anime, so much that nobody really even knows what is disinformation and what is real. There's this idea going around that they cut GP and Yuugo entirely from the anime, and people are spreading this like it's fact. It's not, we simply do not know what they plan to do from here. I understand why everyone is panicking, I'm lowkey panicking too because Yuugo is so near and dear to my heart, but I think in the heat of the moment there has been a bit of an overreaction. Just my opinion though, but I think it is way too early to tell if this will be good or not. I think we will know after episode 4

If Yuugo will be introduced, I think it is highly likely that they will have him show up at the bunker at some point and discover the kids, rather than the other way around. This would add a lot of suspense--imagine, the kids see some unknown figure entering the bunker from the monitors? Imagine being Yuugo, walking into the bunker, thinking you are completely alone. His mental state is extremely fragile, he is severely suicidal, he has nightmares and lives his life constantly haunted by the ghosts of his family...and now he is hearing children's voices and laughter when he enters the bunker??? YIKES!!!

Yuugo's intro in the manga was FIRE, but it probably didn't have the level of suspense that the anime was looking for. There isn't really any build up except for the one or two panels before they find him where Emma hears noises behind the door. (I think his intro had suspense at the time it was published because he was introduced as a cliffhanger at the end of volume 6, and then the manga went on a two month hiatus and everyone was like "ayo who tf is that guy?!?!??!")

Right before Yuugo dies, he thinks back on that day, the day he "failed to die". In this flashback, we see that he was out gathering food, came back to the bunker, had a mental breakdown, and was going to shoot himself, but was interrupted by the kids arriving at the shelter. So, he was out of the bunker before they met. The things that make me nervous about this theory: the moldy cookies, the empty garden, and the letter pinned to the wall.

Don't get your hopes up that this is going to happen. Speaking from experience as someone who went through both the great BBC Sherlock season 4 meltdown and the great Voltron meltdown, if you get in too deep with theorizing to the point where you become convinced that *this specific thing* is going to happen, it's probably going to come back to bite you in the ass BIG TIME and it is going to ruin the series and the love you have for it entirely. For the sake of sparing myself that stress, I am going to assume the worst case scenario, which is that this doesn't happen and they fuck everything up. I love this series but I am not going to revert back to my Sherlock and Voltron mental state for it lmfao

If worst comes to worst, we have the manga. That's it. We have the original story and that's what matters. It exists, whether the anime adapts it or not. Yeah it will suck if they don't adapt it, but it won't destroy the manga's story, y'know? Yuugo will be here for us to love, regardless of what form he is in. They will never be able to take bunker dad from us lol

I do have other thoughts concerning the phone call, and what that might mean about James, Norman, and Lambda, but this is getting way too long and the mass majority of the concern is about Yuugo and GP so I'll leave it at this. Heads up guys, no matter what happens, it's not the end of the world. Don't let whatever happens ruin this series for you.

I hope that I was maybe able to help you feel better about everything? Thank you again for visiting, for the reblogs and taking the time to inbox me, it really means a lot to me!! Feel free to spam me anytime! 💕 :>

#the promised neverland #tpn #yakusoku no neverland #tpn norman #tpn ray #ynn #tpn emma #tpn yuugo #promised neverland #tpn s2 #tpn lucas

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vegapunk123 · 3 years

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Crank: Get High or Get Owned

(thanks anon from 4chan for the initial idea of this fanfic)

Chapter 1

Chev Chelios wakes up miraculously after being severely burned. The first thing he tries is to call for his beloved Eve, but he can’t: his vocal chords are severely damaged. He tries to look around to see where is, but every move he tries to make is followed by excruciating pain, almost enough to make him a goner for good this time. The only thing he can see in full detail is the green moldy ceiling, with lots of dripping spots. Right after he notices that, he feels the bandages of his forehead becoming a tad wet.

“Oh, that’s just fucking great, chinese fucking torture by leaking ceiling… I came back from the dead yet again just for celestial laughs?” - thought Chev, twiching his eyes with burning anger. “Well, misery is my middle fucking name at this point, you fucking cunts with halo gonna have to try harder than that.” Now, he’s fiercely determined on two basic objectives: to stop getting drippings on his head and to know where exactly he is.

He tries with all his might to turn his body on the metal stretcher he is on by pushing back and forth and wobbling with his extremely injured back, each attempt more strenous than the previous one, until finally he gets what he wants, sort of.

The two rusty wheels of the stretcher have broken, making him tumbling down and roilling over a few times until he has his face planted on the cold and dusty wooden ground, with his buttocks exposed due to the loosening of his bandages.

“Fuck you, bastards, I would say to kiss my ass, but that would be way too on the nose… How about to suck my balls?” - envisioned Chelios, enveloped in a thick blanket of pain, trying not to pass out and bite off his tongue by accident. He gives a slow turn with his neck and takes a gander at the room. It has a banged up gray counter with lots of dents, a blue pantry with a few bullet holes and a wooden analogical clock. Passing the entrance of the room, all he see is pitch-black darkness.

At least, he was able to cross his two objectives off of his to do list all at once: his head is terribly dirty with no water in sight and he now knows he is on one of the many back alley clinics of Doctor Miles, the remarkably one where the two of them met for the very first time, for the removal of a handful of bullets.

“Huh, how nostagical of him. Now, how the fuck am I going to leave this place, fucked up like this? - conceived him. But not to worry, Chelios, the cavalry to heal you is here, albeit not for noble reasons. He hears fast steps coming at his direction, and he wonders who might be. Eve? Doc? Venus? A Triads goon? A random sod he angered from his colorful criminal past?

The steps slow down, and a bulky menacing figure appears sideways, with a dark hoodie, with gloves and a waist pouch. Every inch of the stranger is covered in black cloth. And then their head turn, revealing a bright red devil mask, with frightening deep yellow eyes, with blue pupils, complemented by unnerving brown and thick eyebrows; big pointy ears and a large open mouth with several silver teeth, and four very proeminent cuspids.

"What the fuck? An urban demon? Am I actually dead? Is he gonna punish me by buttfucking me until my asshole catches on fire by friction? With no lube?” - pondered Chev, starting to anxiously sweat.

The masked figure calmly opens their zipper pouch and take it out a syringe with a blue liquid in it. They slowly come closer to Chev, squat, inject the solution in Chelios’s ass, swiftly stand up, put the empty syringe back to the pouch and stare at him. The last words our protagonist hears before getting unconscious are: “Dà pìgu…”, uttered with a raspy and somewhat aroused tone.

The mysterious person lifts him up with relative ease, carries him on their shoulder and starts to whistle nonchalantly, heading to the blue van close to the building. They put our unconscious mercenary in the trunk and leave with three more people, one driver and two lookouts with Uzis, each engraved on gold with the word “hustle”. The sun in LA begins to fade, making the smog look emerald green.

#crank #crank: high voltage #chev chelios #crank 3 #jason statham #fanfic #fan fiction #fanfiction #movie idea #movie pitch #movies #cinema #film

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thirsttrapholland · 5 years

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The Bookstore

Requested? Yes

By: anonymous

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Anonymous said to thirsttrapholland:

What about reader drags Tom to the book store and she makes out with him in the stacks to make up for dragging him along.

Warning(s): Brief mention of sex, a little kissing, and that’s it.

Word count: 1820

Picture found on: Pinterest

Doing it this way because copying and pasting into an answer was making the formatting wacky on mobile. I hope this will work out better. Hope you like it anon. Feedback is always appreciated.

“I told you this would be a good day to take a walk.” It was rare that you and Tom got to spend time together this way. You’d slept late, gone to brunch and then you had suggested an afternoon walk.

“Yeah. You were right. It’s a little chilly but at least the sun is out.”

You locked arms with Tom and gently steered him in the direction of the little brick building on the corner. “Hey look, it’s that bookstore I’ve been wanting to check out.”

“The one you kept talking about wanting to go to and I kept saying I didn’t want to? That one?”

“That’s the one.”

“Strange how you suggested we go this way and then lo and behold, there it is.”

“That is strange,” you said while trying but failing to look innocent.

“Don’t quit your day job, sweetheart. You’d make a terrible actress.”

“Come on Tom. If I’d told you where we were going, you would have just said no again.”

“Exactly. Now I know how Tessa feels when I tell her we’re going to the park and I take her to the vet instead.”

“Stop it.”

“Why do you want to go in there so bad? Do you need a book for one of your classes or something?”

“No. I just think it might be fun to go in and have a look around. You can find some real hidden treasures in places like this.”

Tom eyed the storefront suspiciously. “Ugh, really?”

“I wish you could see the look on your face right now. You’d swear I had suggested we take a casual stroll through a sewer.”

“Is that sewer walk an option? Might be more fun than going in this bookstore.”

“Tom, didn’t you say that you wanted to read more books this year?”

“Yes,” he admitted begrudgingly.

“Well it’s going to be hard to read books if you don’t own any.”

“Couldn’t I just read some of the literal hundreds of books that you’ve left lying around?”

“You would not be interested in reading anything that I own and we both know it.” Tom had no patience for the fiction that you preferred to read in your spare time. “Besides, this can be fun. I used to love hanging out in bookstores when I was a kid.”

“What a nerd.” Tom giggled as you poked him in the side.

“Come on.” You took him by the wrist and he reluctantly let you drag him into the small, cramped bookshop.

There were books literally everywhere. On the shelves obviously, but also in stacks on the floor, on the cushions of the cozy, overstuffed armchairs that adorned every corner. On the balcony of the second level. In a loft that could only be reached by tall floor to ceiling ladders. It was the bookstore of your dreams; from the friendly looking, cardigan wearing old man reading a newspaper at the front counter right down to the tabby cat taking an afternoon nap on the sunny windowsill.

Tom took one look around and wrinkled his nose. “It smells like dust and boredom in here.” He took another sniff. “Maybe a hint of sadness as well.”

“Would you stop being a grump and just have a look around? You might actually enjoy yourself if you stopped complaining for two seconds.”

“Doubt it.”

“I’m going to check out the second floor. I think that’s where they keep the rare books and collectibles. You should look around down here.” You extended your hand towards Tom, palm up. “Give me your phone.”

“What do you need my phone for?”

“Because I want you to actually look for a book. If I leave you with this phone, you’ll be scrolling through Instagram or texting Harrison as soon as I’m out of sight.” You wiggled your fingers at him. “So gimme.”

“Fine. Mum.” Tom plunked his phone down in your hand, a pained expression on his face as if you’d asked him to hand over a limb.

You climbed up to the second floor, leaving Tom to his own devices on the first.

Half an hour later, you had a small stack of books in your arms. Things that had gone out of print that you hadn’t been able to find anywhere else. You sat your bounty down on one of the rickety mismatched tables that were dispersed throughout the store and looked over the balcony railing to see if you could spot Tom.

One of your favorite things to do when you were out with Tom was to watch him when he didn’t know you were looking. It was sometimes those little unguarded moments that made you love him the most.

From your position on the second floor you could see Tom wandering the nonfiction sections below. You watched as his long, delicate fingers skimmed over the old tattered spines; occasionally taking something off the shelf to flip it over and read the back cover or inside flap of the book jacket.

The heat of the bookstore had caused him to take off his knit cap and stuff it in his coat pocket. The hat had left his silky brown locks in total disarray; some hair falling over his forehead, the rest sticking straight up and just begging to be played with. You loved the look of concentration on his face and firm set of his angular jaw as he considered the book in his hands before adding it to the small stack beside him on the floor.

Every time you saw him like this it was almost like seeing him for the first time and falling in love all over again.

You watched him for a few seconds more before going downstairs to join him.

“Hey, looks like you found some stuff after all,” you said gesturing to the stack he had accumulated.

“You were right. It was nice roaming through the aisles. Sorry if I was being a bit of a dick before.”

“You weren’t.” You pressed a kiss against his jaw. “Come with me. I think I found something you might like over here.” You took Tom’s hand and led him over to the corner you’d discovered when you came downstairs.

“There’s nothing over here but woodworking and do it yourself construction books.” Tom pulled a book off the shelf. “Do you think I’m going to build a birdhouse or something?” His face suddenly lit up. “I bet Harrison and I could build a birdhouse. Or better yet, a house for Tessa.”

You plucked the book out of his hand and tossed it back on the shelf. “Tom, I have led you to a poorly lit, deserted corner that’s a blind spot from the security cameras and completely out of view of the old man at the counter. Do you see anything you like?”

“I was trying to see if I wanted that woodworking book, but you snatched it out of my hand.”

“If you pick up that book again, I might hit you over the head with it.” You undid the top two buttons on your blouse. “Are you sure you don’t see something else you want?”

“Oh,” Tom said, finally getting what you were suggesting. “That hardly seems appropriate. This is a public place, darling.”

“I can’t believe I’m getting this from you. Aren’t you the same man that tried to go down on me in a Victoria’s Secret dressing room?”

“First of all, I didn’t try, I succeeded. Second, that was different.”

“How exactly?”

“You’re surrounded by frills and lace and skin in a Victoria’s Secret. You’re pretty much expected to try and get your leg over,” Tom explained as though what he was saying should have been perfectly obvious and made total sense.

“Get your leg over? I do love those charming little English sayings of yours.”

“Don’t act like you don’t know what it means. Anyway, this is a bookstore; an old moldy one at that. The ambiance in here really isn’t conducive to the same sort of shenanigans.”

“You’re really getting your money’s worth out of that word a day calendar, aren’t you?”

“Such a smart arse.”

“Tom?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you want to make out or not?”

“Yes, please.”

“Then shut up and kiss me.”

Tom grabbed you by the hips and slowly backed you up against the bookshelves. The laughter on his lips slowly fading away as his mouth met yours.

You loved how lost in each other you and Tom became when you kissed. Cliched as it may sound, it really was like the rest of the world slipped away when he had his arms around you. The feel of his fingertips gently strumming the small of your back. The warm, wet slide of this tongue against yours. His strong, steady heartbeat against your chest. It all made you totally oblivious to anything but him.

The obscene way he moaned into your kiss as you grabbed a handful of his hair and pulled was evenly matched with the sound you made as his hand drifted from your back and firmly grabbed your ass. You went to wrap your leg around his hip but stumbled, sending the both of you crashing into a pile of books and scattering them across the floor. The lusty haze surrounding the two of you finally broken by the loud crashing sound.

“Hey, what are you kids doing back there?” The previously friendly looking old man from the counter was no longer smiling by the time he reached you and Tom. One look at the two of you trying desperately to catch your breath and straighten your disheveled clothing and there was little doubt as to what you had been doing.

Still, denial seemed like the best path to take. “Nothing, sir. I tripped and bumped into him.”

“Then I knocked over these books,” Tom chimed in while he knelt on the floor trying to straighten up the mess you’d made. Every time he picked up one book and tried to put it back on the stack it had come from, he managed to knock over something else. It would have been funny, had it not been so, so embarrassing. “So sorry.”

The old man clearly wasn’t buying the story that you and Tom were trying to sell. “I think it’s time for you to go.”

“Yes sir.” Tom hurriedly grabbed the birdhouse book off the shelf. “We’ll just take this.” You were both in too much of a hurry to leave the store to bother about going back for the stacks of books you’d actually picked out to purchase.

You and Tom barely made it out to the sidewalk before you both burst out laughing. “Well I hope you enjoyed yourself, darling. We’ll probably never be allowed in there again.”

You pulled Tom’s hat out of his pocket and put it back on his head pulling it down over his ears. “Worth it.”

#tom holland #tom holland fluff #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #tom holland fanfiction #fic request #anon fic request #dee answers

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nightcoremoon · 5 years

Text

for the record I'm not actually upset over the comments people are making. I've been doing the internet fight thing for 15 years. but here's an anecdote.

a couple years ago when Discourse™ first got its start, I saw a post. it said "saying 'my dude' is antiblack racist because it's just a watered down way of saying 'my n*gga'" except he actually said the word because op was black. and I was like. what the fuck am I reading. I check the notes and he's all like "if you're white you're not allowed to disagree with me". I'm like wha. granted there were a bunch of people who had said "I'm black and you're an idiot" and it died out and lo and behold if I say my dude I don't get crucified by black people so it's clearly not racist.

then a meme surfaced. you start ranting and raving in a really long sentence or something that's usually directed towards people who do or say bigoted things and then ending it with a comma and a soccermom name, KAREN. it was used pretty much everywhere by everyone. but then one strangely peculiar thing happened.

people started sending anonymous suicide baits to people who used that meme, because "that meme was created by black people so it's culturally appropriating black culture to use that meme if you're white". including one trans kid who was like 14, living in an abusive and homophobic household. he used it in a vent post. and in the notes at least three people were harassing him about it. he deleted his blog. I worry he might have killed himself.

the people who were sending the messages were in their early to mid 20s. to a 14 year old kid. because he used a black created meme. to vent about his abusive household. I shouldn't have to explain how fucked up that is.

anyway I'd come to his defense and made a post about how it's ridiculous to cyberbully a child because he used a meme he didn't have the license to use. and tumblr flipped out. I had hundreds of messages from people calling me a nazi. yeah sure a disabled mentally ill queer trans leftist is totally a nazi. right. they said I was racist, they said I was homophobic to gay black people, they said that I was a liar who fabricated that story I told earlier about that kid because by the time people were asking for receipts the post was deleted. I got suicide baited, threatened, the whole shebang.

I didn't care. I was just irritated by the huge influx of messages. it was an inconvenience. after the life I lead, mean words on the internet from a spineless coward hiding behind the veil of anonymity are water off a duck's back. yes I might use fuckin profanity or italicized fonts or CAPITAL LETTERS for emphasis, but it's because I'm a wordsmith. language is an art form. a keyboard is my brush. I'm proud of my ability to harness the english language and twist and contort it to my own specifications. I can use it for great good, in helping people through tough times with inspiring words that incite courage, for great funny, in jokes that might take some thinking and context to really understand (especially puns), for great sexy (talking dirty basically but only with certain people and when the time is right), or for insulting people. anyone who knows me knows that I'm a good person and that the only people who ever know what it's like to receive a tongue lashing are the ones who fucking deserve it. not the people who see a single text post taken out of context as a basis to judge my entire character on. but I enjoy it. I enjoy using words as weapons on the battlefield of discourse. it's because I'm good at it. beyond the abilities of most opponents which is unfortunate because it just sails right over their heads most of the time but still, my fellow intelligent company is able to grasp the meanings and intentions of both sides. I excel at this. and the fact that I don't take things personally (I'll certainly pretend to when it'll gain me the advantage) is just icing on the cake.

there is just one problem though.

I'm autistic and possess hyperempathy.

"what does that have to do with this?"

see, here's the thing. if some random person makes an offhand comment intended as a joke but didn't really have the "correct" amount of blatant humor injected into it, and you are the type of person to then go to them and tell them they'd be better off dead, they're just a retard who should stop posting, nobody cares about them, whatever, you are NOT the type of person to think "hmm this person's only 14, maybe I should reconsider the choice to send them a death threat" or "oh hey this person has depression, perhaps I'll remove that suicide bait part and replace it with rainbow lollipops and unicorn stickers :3". you don't give a fuck about all that. you just wanna reap destruction and watch the world burn. you wouldn't give a fuck if that kid commits suicide because you don't have any compassion or empathy. if you would send the kind of shit you sent me to anyone, and I had the chance to meet you in person, I'd make you swallow your own teeth.

these anons don't care how old I am. they don't care what my mental state is. they don't care about any of that shit. they only care about inflicting pain, deserved or not, and all over dumb shitposts. over "lmao if you break up over mario kart you're kind of immature and should work on your relationship skills :P". over saying Karen at the end of your sentence. over greeting a friend with "my dude". over liking steven universe. it doesn't matter what the topic of the day is. any excuse will do to go for the proverbial jugular.

the existence of these people is what pisses me off more than the actual things that they say. how dare you exist. how dare you spread hate. how dare you not be a paragon of human decency. if someone says something racist or homophobic or antisemitic or misogynistic or body shaming or pro fascist or bootlicking or genocidal or anything contributing directly to harmful actions towards people based on their demographics rather than the choices that they make, fuck 'em. you lost my compassion for you. you're a piece of old chewing gum under a table. you're a little chunk of dookie that didn't get flushed. you're a moldy apricot pit at the bottom of an unlined trash can. you made a conscious choice to be a bad person. if you are a literal nazi, I'd remove your bones and then put them back in the wrong places without any anesthetic. if you are bigoted because society brainwashed you, I'd call you character into question and point out your hypocrisy. if you made a dumb joke on a shitpost I'd just scroll past because I'm not gonna waste my time on you. but if you would tell a kid to kill themself, you bet your ass I'll tear into you like hungry wolves into a deer carcass with zero remorse or sense of your own feewings. if you want me to care about the feelings of terrible people, you have another thing coming. if they would hurt people who don't deserve it, they're on the shit list.

and I refuse to be told that I'm a bad person because of that. severe, yes. ruthless, maybe. evil? that's pushing it a lot. a little unhinged? I've not been hinged since I was 3 years old. an asshole? I vehemently disagree considering the people i'm rude to are themselves assholes; this isn't some edgy friedrich nietsche quote taken out of context. merciless? okay I'll give you that. but a bad person? fuck that and fuck you.

you don't get to judge my character because I'm ~mean~ to dickheads.

in fact I'm somehow more pissed off at those people than the people sending the shitty messages in the first place. lashing out I can understand because that was me once upon a time. but passive neutrality under guise as absolute good? you're attacking the reaction. you're centrists attacking antifa. you're part of the problem. especially when you use sneaky tactics that take advantage of good nature, "heyyyyy buddy, let's talk about your anger issues, are you okaaaaaay, taaaaalk to me, you need to apologize to the people who want you dead because you were mean to them and that means you deserve it". literal cult tactics. evil. actual legitimate active performed evil. or just an ignorant misguided fool that thinks he's the dalai lama. but... pride is a deadly sin after all.

anyway tl;dr i don't give a shit about the actual things you say to me. the only thing that pisses me off is the fact that you'd say those things to another person completely unprovoked, no matter who that person is.

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kinktae · 6 years

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jesus christ I'm so sorry to hear you're in a similar, if not worse situation than I am. school is just so stressful and anxiety inducing and people here are assholes. like as bad as paris level asshole which says a lot believe me. I wish I could give you advice but I've never been through college and honestly I have no clue what it's like here or in france. honestly you should clear up your schedule a bit too for next semester/trimester - french anon

I am taking four classes next semester!!! So yes definitely!

Anonymous said: but if I can be honest my schedule for second year (dunno what it’s called sorry) is worse. once again I have no prep - AP US history (I know nothing about this), AP Chemistry, also know little about chemistry and lack the english vocabulary, another honors english class, combining two honors french classes which shouldn’t be a problem but I’m from the country and it’s like satori in korean it’s completely different from standard french for me. like hillbilly french ig- french anon

HILLBILLY FRENCH HAHAHAH. Also, second year is called sophomore year! AP US History, damn girl that is a tough, even for an American. I would see if you can drop out of that class and switch it to something easier like AP Environmental Science (if that’s an option.) But I’m sure if you dedicate yourself you should be able to get through it

Anonymous said: after that we have honors algebra second year, I barely know anything about geometry and trigonometry. I don’t even know how to say trigonometry in french like what? I have another high level music class and then another year of a third language in honors. I don’t even have a study class (hall?) next year and I am in three sports so I practice more than a full time job works, and then I go to school. I think I really messed up here - french anon

Thats so weird bc my french teacher taught us that trigonometry was just le trigonométrie. Anyway, you don’t need to know geometry/trig to understand algebra. They say if you hate geometry then you will love algebra. Algebra is like chemistry but chem has science mixed in. (Also remember that colleges only require that you take two years of the same language in high school, which means you don’t have to take it your third year.)

Anonymous said: I just want to be on the right medication for my mental disorders so that maybe I don’t live off of two pieces of bread everyday for two weeks only to have it happen again. it’s frustrating! I want this to be over! and no offense america but literally why trump he makes everything worse and your politics system makes no sense. like at least in france I don’t have to be aware of it but here it’s literally everywhere you go. - french anon

Ah I hope they can find the right medication for you! As Trump, hahhhhh I have many thoughts on that man as a child of two immigrants. I don’t want to get too into it but just know that the majority of Americans DID NOT vote for him, I think only 47% of Americans actually voted for him lol idk i don’t understand the government

Anonymous said: your language is really weird by the way. I know I’m french and can’t say that technically bc french is just as bad but literally @ english why. grammar sucks. sentence structure sucks. PRONUNCIATION AND SYLLABLE STRESS SUCKS. contractions are weird. there’s literally almost no point to them in english? and overall the people here suck w welcoming foreigners like I cannot tell you how many times someone impersonated my accent to make fun of me. - french anon

LMAO I FEEEEEL. Also I’m sorry people are being shitty ugh. Americans are sometimes too blunt and speak without thinking, we don’t even realize sometimes when we are being rude.

Anonymous said: I said it before too, and I will most definitely say it a bunch more. your. school. system. sucks. ass. it can suck my ass, slap my thigh and call me george for all I care and I would still not think it’s funny despite being an awful joke. I hope your life improves though bc you just don’t deserve this the only human I can think of in america that deserves the shit of their own system is moldy tangerine himself. rip american students. - french anon

MOLDY TANGERINE SDKFJSKJF I personally see him more as a stale cheeto.

Anonymous said: but honestly from what I can tell college sucks. fake news. exams are stressful as heck and if you do good no one but your anxiety rewards you bc I’m the same way, I live off of my grades and atm I have a D+ in English and a C in AP World History. I’m far behind and the final is this week oops. but honestly like,,, why. just why. you only get degraded if you fail and nothing good happens if you pass like what is the point. - french anon

College is actually really really great when you don’t overload yourself with work. There is so much freedom and you can take literally ANY class you can think of. I could take a class all about rock n roll music if I wanted to at my university. Also, I guess if you pass a class, then you get to go to more school. Yay(?)

Anonymous said: I’m going to keep you in my thoughts amour, because I really hope things get better and you get the courage to attend your classes. sorry for going off again in your inbox it’s probably annoying to have some stupid freshman ranting about the school system when your situation seems to be way worse than mine. I hope everything goes well, don’t worry about writing for your followers bc we’d rather you do it for fun than force it. - french anon

Anonymous said: it’s a lot easier to read when it flows naturally from your thoughts (and as someone who stRuggles w reading on occasion I know and I can tell bby). please take your time and prioritize you. please. I’m begging. I can’t imagine what your situation is like but it does not seem fun. so don’t feel any pressure from here and focus on what’s a lot more important. I believe in you, I believe you can pass english. I know you can. okay I’m done, sorry again. je t'aime, mon amour, salut

Ahh you are too sweet. I will prioritize my time. Also psshhh you don’t bother me at all. I mean, we are technically both “stupid freshman.” You’re a freshman in high school and I am a freshman in college ;) Thank you for your kind words, te amo, je t’aime and I love you

#ask

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posi-pan · 7 years

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Nobody said pan aces are not a part of the community lmao...if you experience same gender attraction or are trans then u are part of the community. If you are a het ace then you are not.

one) “inherently part of the community” was directed at their ace identity. they are inherently part of the community because of their ace identity, no matter what their romantic attraction is, if they have any or even specifically label it. I honestly do not give a fuck about what you have to say about this topic. because it isn’t up for debate. there’s an A in the acronym for a reason. it’s there and doesn’t come with conditions. but then again, I bet you’re a “the full acronym is LGBT” type of person.

two) you can fuck right off with this “if you experience same gender attraction” shit, because it doesn’t hold up. I’ve ranted about this shit before. and if you’re someone who bases queerness on proximity to or appearance of gayness, then I want nothing to do with you. because I’m not queer because I “experience ‘sga’”, I’m queer because I’m attracted to all genders. my attraction to people of the same gender isn’t more queer or important than my attraction to people of every other gender. my identity is a whole. it’s not something you pick apart into pieces that you like/value and don’t like/value. fuck all the way off, dude.

three) take your exclusionist ace hate bullshit away from me and my blog. you aren’t welcome here. also, stop being a coward hiding behind anon and let me know who you are, especially if you’re one of my followers or mutuals. so I can block your nasty ass. honestly, the nerve to come here with this shit during asexual awareness week is astounding. go fuck a cactus.

to any asexual people reading this, you are inherently queer/part of the community. your asexuality makes you inherently queer/part of the community. do not let fuckwads like this anon make you believe otherwise. they’re just gatekeeping exclusionists and their “opinions” are literally worth less than a bag of moldy trash that’s been rotting out in the sun for a month. you are valid and part of the community because of your asexuality.

if anyone has a problem with me saying that, there’s this nifty little thing called an unfollow button, or block button if you’re that threatened by inclusivity.

#asks #anonymous #you're a fucking asshole anon never come to my blog ever again #i don't stand for ace hate and sorry if you thought i did you hateful hypocritical exclusionist piece of fucking shit #ace antagonism #long post

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