I usually avoid rule 63/genderswap/always a girl fics, not because of any hatred for the concept, but because I get grossed out by ladies hating on ladies AKA the author’s opinions leaking through. SO, if I was gonna write Stiles and Lydia bodyswap, Stiles would LOVE it and IDC.
Wayward Arrows' December 13th first issue promotional giveaway!
To celebrate the upcoming first issue of Wayward Arrows serialized romance magazine, we are having a giveaway!
Reblog this post anywhere between December 6th - December 20th (2013) to be entered to win. Two rebloggers will be chosen, at random, on December 21st to receive one of two Lupicia gift boxes for free! Each gift box contains:
- 1 tin of tea (either Carol or Jingle Bells)
- 1 tea spoon
- 1 tea strainerRules:
- Must reblog (likes do not count)
- 1 reblog per person
- Following is not a requirement, but followers will receive double entries
- No reposts only reblogs
- All countries welcome! (Unless I find out flat rate USPS shipping doesn’t ship to you, then I might have to awkwardly tell you it’s not going to work out.)
- Be prepared to give me your address and have your ask open. If you do not respond within 48 hours of being informed of winning, you will have forfeited your win.
Carol: Tea flavored with strawberry and vanilla and elegantly decorated with rose petals.
Jingle Bells: A black tea scented with refreshing grapes and fruity champagne.
Get more information about the first issue of Wayward Arrows and the authors at: WaywardArrows.com
I’ve suddenly realized two things:
- I’ve never participated in Pink Undies Sunday
- I’ve never blogged in a laundromat before.
It takes five weeks, three pep talks from Scott and a near-dangerous amount of caffeine for Stiles to finally initiate a conversation with Hot Laundromat Guy Who Actually Irons His Suits Oh My God.
"Nice pleats," he says, casually leaning against the machine next to ironing board. "I mean, that’s not a euphemism, or anything. I was just."
The guy’s lips curve up, his eyes still focused on his suit pants, and Stiles swears that nobody’s ever looked so beautiful under greenish florescent lights. “I didn’t think it was a euphemism. What would that even be a euphemism for?”
"Use your imagination," Stiles says boldly, wiggling his eyebrows. Hot Laundromat Guy slips and burns the tip of his finger. "Oh my god, are you okay?"
"Ugh, stop, I’m fine." The guy is glaring at the iron like it just betrayed him. "Maybe I should just… finish up at home."
Stiles panics. “My name is Stiles!” (It’s a non sequitur, admittedly, but anything to keep the guy from walking out and taking his amazing forearms with him.)
"Derek," says the guy, looking at him curiously from under his ludicrous mascara-commercial eyelashes. "I’ve seen you before. I’m always here on Sundays, too."
"I know, dude. You’re hard to miss," Stiles says, grinning when Derek squirms and bites his lip. Aww. "When you finish up with the pressing and the pleating and all that impressively fancy laundry stuff you do, can I buy you a burger? If you eat burgers. You look kind of like you subsist on kale and gravel."
"I like burgers," Derek says, rolling his eyes as he digs through his laundry basket. "I’m ambivalent on gravel, though."
"Ha, ha," Stiles says, completely delighted. "So I know this great place… oh."
Derek has just placed a pair of gorgeous, expensive-looking pink silk panties on the board. He’s handling them carefully, lovingly, and Stiles’ heart plummets.
"Those are nice," he says, trying to smile like a normal person. "It’s nice of you to take care of those. For your… wife?"
Derek frowns, smoothing out the wrinkles with one of his huge hands. “I’m not married.”
"Girlfriend, then?" Stiles doesn’t know why he keeps going. His throat is burning a little bit with the effort of not showing how suddenly crushed he feels.
"No, I’m not—they’re mine," Derek says. Matter-of-fact, easy, like he didn’t just restore all of Stiles’ hopes and blow his freaking mind in a single sentence.
"Oh," he breathes, and Derek sighs, looking up at him
"If you want to reconsider that burger—"
"Careful!" Stiles yelps, and moves the iron away from where it’s resting on the corner of the panties’ lace trim. "Oh, good. They’re not burnt."
"Thanks," Derek says, his hand sliding into a fist against the ironing board.
"You can thank me once I’ve bought you the best burger you’ve ever had," Stiles says, and slides his fingers gently over Derek’s wrist. "Finish up first, though. Silk wrinkles like crazy."
"I’ve got it under control," Derek says, sighing grumpily even as he flips his hand over and brushes their palms together.
underorange replied to your post “I hate it when you skim tags quickly and don’t spot one that squicks…”
Oh man that does suck. Or you see like eight million people apparently love a story and you’re like “Well maybe it won’t be that bad…” but then it really really is and you still only have yourself to blame.
Yeah, I secretly also blame everyone else for lacking taste and then feel guilty for judging so harshly when it’s just that they have different taste than I do.
I hate it when you skim tags quickly and don’t spot one that squicks you out, get part way through the story and go ‘HEY WAIT A MINUTE THIS IS DEFINITELY LEADING UP TO _____’
And then you go and read the tags again, and there it is in the middle, staring you in the face, and you’ve got no one to blame but yourself for not reading more carefully.
Everyone arguing that fanfiction crit/hate blogs aren’t any worse than parody shows like Mystery Science Theatre 3000 etc needs to take a step back and think.
Context is key.
MST3000 preys on films that have been produced, filmed and released on a professional scale (no matter how much some may not look it). Their creators set them loose on the world fully aware that to do so would be to invite criticism and/or praise.
The key words there are ‘professional' and 'aware’.
Most fanfic authors? Aren’t professional writers. Hell, a whole heap of them aren’t even out of school yet. To rip apart some of the first forays into creative expression some of these authors are making is not only a severely dick move, it’s also ensuring that some of them will never find the confidence to write again.
Now, I’ve been told my writing isn’t bad. I’m somewhat okay with where my skill level is at these days though I am by no means going to stop striving to improve.
You know what I was writing at thirteen? SHIT. Utter. Fucking. Shit. Would I have stopped writing back then if someone had up and told me that? I’ll never know, because no one was ever asshole enough to do so. So I kept writing, I kept improving, and now I can look back at those early attempts at fic and cringe like a motherfucker. Because that’s what you DO with your early writing.
But you know what? If I hadn’t written them, I would never have gotten to where I am today.
As to ‘aware’: this is fandom. It is an unspoken rule that you do not critique fanworks unless the creator has EXPLICITLY asked for critical feedback. There is a very important reason for this:
Receiving criticism for creative work when you’re not prepared for it can be fucking devastating.
When I submit stories to be professionally edited, I BRACE for the feedback I will receive. Because I know that while it will help me in the long run, some of it’s also going to be hella difficult to take.
When professional writers release their works, they are braced for reader feedback, be it good or bad.
When a fanfiction author posts their work, they are not. The culture of fandom has ensured this.
Fandom, we’ve assured ourselves, is a safe space.
Crit/hate blogs shit all over that concept.
And THAT is why a whole lot of us get really fucking angry when another one pops it’s head out of the toxic ooze that settles at the depths of every fandom.
It’s not because we can’t take a joke. It’s because you’re making a joke at the expense of others.
You know who does that? Assholes.