heard someone say archive of our own should install a "dislike" button and I thought I should say this: no, there's absolutely no need for archive of our own to install a "dislike" button.
why? because archive of our own isn't tiktok or youtube or twitter/x where users can monetize their content. archive of our own is a nonprofit site run by fans for fans, which means every content — every fanfic — you see on archive of our own was made out of pure love and passion from the artists/authors.
ao3 authors write because writing about these characters is their happiness and passion. they write for themselves, but they were generous enough to share with you their creations.
they're not "content creators" the way tiktokers or youtubers or instagram models are. they don't "make content" for views and engagements that can be monetized.
so no, you don't get to "grade their works" unless they specifically and directly ask you to.
you don't get to "say what you dislike about their works" unless they specifically and directly ask you to.
you don't get to "dislike" works that are not made specifically to please you in the first place. you're just a guest in someone's house, a house in which they let you in because they were kind, you don't get to roam around their house and say what you dislike about their furniture. you don't get to roam around their house and say you "dislike their house".
of course, you can have your opinion about the house its host invites you in. but if it's a negative one and you find yourself not liking the house, the polite things for you to do is excuse yourself and leave without telling them you dislike their house.
and just because you personally dislike the house doesn't mean the house is "ugly" either. the house you dislike could be a favorite, most luxurious place to many others.
my point is, don't be entitled by wanting the rights to voice your disapproval of things that you get to enjoy for free. don't be entitled by wanting the rights to voice your disapproval of things that were made out of love and passion — things the artists made for themselves for fun.
it makes you look like an entitled jerk with main character syndrome. the universe does not revolve around you.
now repeat after me: don't like don't read. no one forces you to continue reading a fic you don't like. quietly leave instead of being rude to authors who write for free because writing is their source of comfort.
people are so used to contents that were made because it's a trend / contents like tiktok that were made with the main purpose of reaching high engagement and making profits that they forget sometimes things can be made out of love and be made just for fun. sometimes things are supposed to just be for people to enjoy, and if some people don't enjoy them, then they can simply leave without being unnecessary unkind.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Havn’t watched Spiderverse since it came out like 3 years ago (11/10 movie btw, no notes, actually the sickest shit I’ve ever seen in my life) but I randomly woke up yesterday and was like “oh my god, he turns PINK whenever he’s around Miles. That’s gay as hell”
Steve and robin have no boundaries. They're like cats at the shelter you can't separate. Eddie has come home a few times and seen the two in the same bed, cuddling (robin is the big spoon.) (Steve snores and Robin drools)
“Steve and Robin sometimes have sleepovers. In my bed. With me in it”
Their codependency predates you Eddie you’ll never escape it (he loves them dw dw)
Steve and Eddie are dating, and it's great, but they also need to abide by the rules of society, which means they need a buffer. Two men hanging out? Gay, wrong. Three dudes hanging out? Normal and expected.
Ideally, they would use Robin, but she's a terrible actor and spends the whole time looking anxious and paranoid, defeating the purpose of being covert.
Nancy is great, but the situation is too awkward. The kids just raise more questions and want all their attention.
Which is how Jonathan finds himself, somehow, against his will, going on increasingly frequent outings with Steve and Eddie.
He hates it. He hates it so much. Jonathan hardly likes these two. Steve, at least, he has some kind of weird camaraderie with, even if he's annoying as hell. Eddie? Jonathan just doesn't like him. No real reason why, just because.
It doesn't help that they're both so bad at being subtle. They're constantly "sneaking" kisses and saying disgustingly sweet (and just plain disgusting) things way too loudly.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Prompt Day 29: “Double your pleasure, double your fun!” | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: M | CW: language, implied cheating (not steddie) | POV: Steve | Pairing(s): Steddie | Tags: Famous Corroded Coffin, Popstar Steve Harrington, enemies to lovers, AU – no Upside Down, fuck that guy to i’m going to fuck that guy
notes: part one!! see tomorrow’s prompt for part two
Steve feels the hot flush crawling up his neck, and he seriously considers a) murdering the pervy photographer whose idea this was, and his manager who agreed to it, b) throwing a popstar-worthy tantrum, or c) suffocating himself with one of the velvety pillows strewn around.
Maybe all of the above.
“Settle, pet,” Steve’s personal torment croons, sliding his hand off Steve’s jaw to his throat, pressing his thumb against Steve’s pulse point and creating the illusion of choking Steve.
Eddie Munson is gorgeous, talented, the lead guitarist of a massive metal band, and the absolute bane of Steve’s existence for years.
“Fuck you,” Steve hisses. He’s sprawled on the settee. His arm aches from holding the prop baseball bat with rusty nails through the head that the photographer gave him, and he’s pissy, and doesn’t want to put up with Eddie’s shit today.
Eddie’s leaning over the back of the couch, that hand at Steve’s throat, and they’re supposed to look like they’re fighting – the battle of rock vs pop – but in, like, a subversive, sexy way (some artistic bullshit about the thin line between love/hate and metal/pop).
Yeah, Steve decides, as Eddie’s fingers tighten imperceptibly, in a way that steals Steve’s breath, and he bites his lush bottom lip, and the sounds of the camera clicking speeds up, Jonathan’s a fuckin’ perve. If there’s anyone in this studio that Steve hates more than Eddie Munson, it’s probably Jonathan – an admittedly great photographer, but kinda odd and way too friendly with Steve’s powerhouse actress, on-off girlfriend, Nancy.
“You couldn’t handle me, Stevie,” Eddie murmurs, a wicked gleam in his eye. They despise each other – Steve is everything Eddie hates about the industry, Steve hates Eddie’s preachy, holier than thou ‘music is the purest form of art’ attitude – but Eddie’s way of demonstrating that has always been riling Steve up. Steve hates that Munson gets under his skin so easily, but he just drives him fucking mad – it’s like he knows every button to push to make Steve angry. Steve has nowhere near the same ability to piss Eddie off, but his disdain is clear in the way he disparages everything from the songwriters the label forces Steve to use, to the uber-polished preppy look they push Steve into all the time.
Steve’s flush burns hotter, but he gets a brief reprieve as they switch the scene; they’re set up in a position that’s euphemistic for being post-coital, back-to-back on the ground, the bat laying across Steve’s lap and Eddie’s head leaning on his shoulder. They’re both given lit cigarettes, and the makeup girls quickly paint fake blood and bruises on their faces.
“How’s Wheeler?” Eddie asks, an edge in his tone. They’re basically being ignored now that they’re ready – Jonathan and his swarm, including Steve and Corroded Coffin’s respective managers, are all double checking the lighting and the framing.
“None of your fucking business,” Steve snaps.
He feels Eddie’s chuckle against his back, and pointedly keeps his gaze straight ahead when Eddie tilts his head on Steve’s shoulder to look at him.
“Ah, so you’re off again.” He lifts his head off Steve’s shoulder briefly, looking over at the crew, then drops it back down. “Creepo?”
“Fuck you,” Steve repeats, but with far less heat. He doesn’t even want to know how Eddie knows those rumours – if it’s reaching the metal scene, then Nancy and Jonathan are being way too goddamn public with it. Hot shame swirls in Steve’s gut.
Eddie laughs again. “My modern day Shakespeare!”
Jonathan is ready, and he snaps away. When they’re finally done and allowed to get up, Steve immediately tries to shove away and get the fuck away from everyone – especially Eddie Munson – but the devil himself catches him by the elbow.
“If you wanna talk…” he says, and for one heartbeat, he doesn’t have that shit-stirring expression on his face. Something in Steve’s chest twinges. But then, in a blink, Eddie’s wicked smirk is back, and he says, “You can always call me. It’d do you good to hang out with real musicians for once.”
Steve hates him.
Nancy’s on his arm, and flashbulbs are popping as they walk the red carpet. Steve’s got the smile that’s at least 40% of why he’s as famous as he is plastered on, but he doesn’t feel it at all.
There’d been pap pictures, in one of those stupid trashy tabloid mags, and technically they’d been innocent – just Nancy and Jonathan, out to lunch – but their knees had been touching under the table, and their hands too close, and Steve feels fucking sick. He’s so tired, and he feels like an idiot, again. He’s so fucking done.
Further up the carpet, Corroded Coffin are horsing around, playing up for the cameras, having the times of their lives, and Eddie is chiefest among them. His life-ruining dimples are on full display, along with the long column of his neck when he tips his head back to laugh. Steve’s mouth feels dry.
Inside, Steve sees him break off towards the bathroom, and he quickly excuses himself to Nance and follows, like something invisible and inexorable is pulling him along.
Eddie looks up from the sink, surprised, and the second Steve’s quick glance around tells him they’re alone, he grabs Eddie by the shoulders and shoves him against the wall.
“The fuck, Harrington?” Eddie snaps, though he does let out a little grunt when Steve’s hips meet his.
Steve leans in, but Eddie’s big, ringed hand lands on his throat and holds him at bay, squeezing lightly. For a long beat, they stare at each other; Steve shaking a little, Eddie wide-eyed, lips parted.
“This isn’t a ‘double your pleasure, double your fun’ situation Steve,” Eddie says eventually, and the mask finally drops away, just a little. Just enough for Steve to see the edge of vulnerability in his eyes. “You can’t have me and her.”
Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson do not get along. They’ve been sniping at each other since saving the world from Vecna and everyone is tired of it They would fight at the bar. They fight in Family Video. They fight over music, over movies, over whether Eddie’s van is “a death trap”.
But what nobody knows is Steve started it. And Steve keeps starting it. Because the first time Eddie got really mad like red faced, voice cracking, gesturing with those rings and hair all wild from running his hands through it Steve’s brain just short circuited. God, he’s so hot when he’s pissed. He would think to him self.
So now Steve has a system. He says something dumb about his music choice and Eddie explodes. Steve wins. Not the argument. But just to see him.
Eddie doesn’t get it at first. He just thinks Steve’s an asshole who peaked in high school and never learned to shut up. Until one night Steve’s baiting him about “real music” and Eddie shoves him hard against the brick wall outside the Hideout, and Steve smiles.
Oh.
“You absolute freak,” Eddie says realization dawning and devastating. “You like this. You like when I—”
Steve cuts him off by kissing him, because since he’s been caught he might as well give in.
Victor Frankenstein after achieving the impossible and building a fucking person from scraps of the dead: Oh god, ew, ew it's ugly! Yucky! Yucky! Gross! Ew! Ew! Yucky! Yucky! Gross! Ew!
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
oooooo what a cool post my mutual just reblogged ! I think I will reblog it as well !!! oooooh who did they reblog it from ? That username seems familiar,,, hohoho it's me ! from an hour ago !
