#emma bloom reader insert

[thehomeofplatonicfics]

Wish That You Were Here

Peculiar!reader x Emma Bloom (platonic!) - Inspired by 'Wish That You Were Here by Florence and the Machine

“Y/N? Y/N, are you even listening to me?” Emma’s voice breaks through your thoughts like a knife and you jump in your seat to attention, shaking your head slightly. “I didn’t catch that, sorry.” You mumble sheepishly, gazing back out into the distance, looking towards the sea once more.

It was one of the things you had appreciated the most when you had first arrived into the Cairnholm loop, you hadn’t always been so lucky. Being a peculiar that most normies would liken to a siren, it was quite a pickle if you didn’t have a body of water to ‘haunt’. It had made life in the middle of London quite challenging at times.

When that loop was destroyed, you were placed here, in Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children… but you then had to leave someone behind. Someone special.

“You’re doing it again.” Emma warned you, the look on her face is equal parts concern and amusement. “Sorry… the sea is drawing me in strongly today.”

“Do you want to head down there? We’re past the reset, so it’ll be safe.” Emma offers, gesturing to the path. “Are you sure you can handle it?” You ask, knowing that if you let out your song, buried in you, that you could control her to do almost anything.

“Don’t worry, I’ll keep a safe distance from you. Just means we may have to shout.” Emma smirks. You nod in agreement, and walk down with her silence. You became lost in your thoughts again, thinking of your dear friend. Where were they now? What year, what loop? Were they even still alive?

Your siren’s call slips out before you even realise it as you take one step into the water. True to her word, Emma remains somewhat further back up the beach and luckily seems unaffected. “So, what is this about?” Emma shouts to you, knowing that you weren’t usually so affected by your peculiarity.

“Her. Again.” You call back in a floaty, sing-song voice. “She’s... always on my mind. I wish she was here. Every second, every hour.” Saying every day seemed moot, considering it was always the same day in September.

Emma hummed back in understanding. “I know how you feel. I think of Abe every day too.” You pause your song, surprised to hear Emma talk of him. She rarely brought him up, and you considered it an honour that she felt comfortable enough to do so with you.

“Do you ever feel like missing him becomes so burdening? Like a feeling that just sits on your chest, weighing you down, making it hard to catch your breath?” You ask Emma, your voice still singing a haunting call.

“…Often.” Emma shouts back, taking one step further away from you to ensure she didn’t become trapped by your song.

“I don’t even know if she is safe. Sometimes, I wonder if she thinks of me as often as I think of her.”

“I bet she does.” Emma replies, hoping in her heart that Abe thought of her often too.

“Some days, the image of her seems so very far.” My siren’s song starts to die down, as I turn towards her. A tear slips down my cheek. “I don’t even have a photo of her. I worry that one day, I’ll forget what she looks like. That all I’ll have left is the idea of her in my mind.”

Emma remains quiet for a while, feeling almost guilty that she at least had many remainders of Abe to fall back on. “Why don’t you paint a picture of her? I’m sure the bird will have supplies.” Emma suggested tentatively, praying you responded favourably to it.

You stepped out of the water, looking back out to sea. “Yes… I think I shall ask her.” You walked back up the beach, looping your arm into her’s as you returned the house. “Thank you, Emma.” You say softly as you step back into the safety of the house. “I won’t let her be forgotten.”

[cece693]

Replacement (Enoch O'Connor x M! Reader)

I wanted to add something to the relatively small pool of fics for this fandom. All characters are of age and can be envisioned as their book or movie counterparts.

Summary: As a healer, you naturally seek to care for those around you. So it was easy to befriend Jake when he first entered Miss Peregrine's loop, confused and hurt by his grandfather's passing. However, your best friend doesn't see it that way.

It was official. Enoch hated Jake. Not that the other children noticed, or if they did, they were smart enough to not mention it. Maybe it was jealousy. Perhaps he was bothered by how Emma's eyes sparkled with interest whenever the American boy was around. Or maybe, it was the disruption to their routine, as Jake's presence always seemed to stir the loop like a stone tossed into a still pond.

But Olive knew the truth, for she had quickly discerned Enoch's emotions behind the venomous words he threw at Jake whenever he came near. It wasn't about Emma or their routine being disrupted. It was all because of you.

From the moment Jake first stumbled into their world, he latched onto you—an oddball healer with a gentle touch and ability to mend the deepest cuts, both physical and emotional. So when Jake arrived, it was natural for you to be his guide, explaining things in a way that made the strange world of peculiars feel less threatening.

Naturally, Enoch hated it.

Before Jake arrived, you’d spend every minute by his side—looking over his shoulder, letting out a bright smile whenever his creations came alive. Enoch secretly treasured these moments, feeling comfortable in your presence and falling for you more each day. But now? Now it was Jake this and Jake that.

No space was safe from Jake's influence, nor did the American make it easy to escape his presence. It seemed like whenever Enoch and you were together, he appeared from thin air, begging you to help him with something. It was as if the American knew of Enoch's feelings and acted to rile him up, whisking the attention of the only person he actually liked. It's not as if there weren't any other children who would be happy to spend time with the American, why did he seek you out specifically?

Every time he saw you two together, a storm brewed inside him, and a tight knot formed in his chest. Enoch wasn’t stupid. He understood what jealousy was, but this wasn’t just jealousy. This was fear. Fear that you were slipping away from him. Fear that Jake was replacing him.

One day, it all became too much.

Enoch was sitting at the table in the library, flipping through one of his old, tattered books on embalming techniques, though his focus had long since disappeared. His mind, as usual, was on you. He had tried to pretend like nothing was wrong, but the bitter feeling gnawed at him constantly. And then, as if the universe was mocking him, you and Jake walked into the room together.

Jake was talking about something, gesturing wildly with his hands, and you were laughing—a bright, carefree laugh that Enoch hadn’t heard in days.

That was the last straw.

"Seriously?" Enoch snapped, slamming his book shut, startling you both. Jake stopped mid-sentence, blinking in confusion, but Enoch didn’t care. His gaze was fixed on you, his voice sharp and biting. “Do you really have to follow him around all the time?”

Your smile faltered, a confused frown replacing it as you looked at him. “What are you talking about?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about.” Enoch’s voice grew colder, harsher. His jealousy had festered too long, and now it spilled like poison. “Ever since he got here, it’s like you’ve forgotten everyone else exists.”

Jake shifted awkwardly beside you, clearly unsure of what to say, but Enoch didn’t give him a chance. “You’re spending so much time with him, acting like he needs you for everything. It's pathetic."

Your eyes narrowed, a flash of anger crossing your face. “He’s new here, Enoch! He does need help adjusting. And I’m not just going to ignore him because you—”

“Because I what?” Enoch cut you off, his eyes blazing. “Because I’m not needy enough for you? Because I don't fawn over you like a mutt every second like he does?””

Your mouth opened slightly, stunned by his words. Enoch could see the hurt forming in your eyes, but he was too wound up to stop now.

“Face it,” Enoch continued, his voice colder now, “you just want to feel like you matter to someone, right? Like you have some purpose. Well, here’s the truth—you’re not needed here. Jake can deal just fine on his own and I don’t need a dessolent friend.”

Your face twisted in hurt, and that twisted something deep inside Enoch. You stared at him, your hands trembling slightly at your sides. “You’re wrong,” you finally said, voice breaking. “But I guess I was wrong too, thinking you were my best friend.”

Before Enoch could respond, you turned and stormed out of the room, leaving him and Jake alone. The American looked like he was about to say something, but Enoch shot him a cold glare, daring him to speak.

Days passed. Days where Enoch didn’t see you, didn’t hear from you, and the space you used to fill in his life became an empty void he couldn’t bear to acknowledge. You weren't just avoiding him, you had begun to spend even more time with Jake, much to Enoch's dismay.

He tried to act like it didn’t bother him. He pretended he didn’t care when he saw you laughing as if his absence meant nothing to you. But it did. It hurt more than Enoch was willing to admit. It was only when Olive pushed him to accept his mistake that led him to stand at your door, long after the other house's inhabitants had gone to bed.

Enoch stood there for a long moment, his hand raised to knock, but his usual stubbornness kept holding him back. What if you didn’t forgive him? What if you’d already moved on and replaced him for good?

Taking a deep breath, Enoch knocked.

After a few agonizing moments, the door creaked open, and you stood there, blinking groggily at him in the dim light. You looked surprised to see him, and Enoch couldn’t blame you.

“What do you want, Enoch?” you asked, your voice flat, distant.

“I…” Enoch faltered for a moment, struggling to find the right words. His usual snark and bravado were gone, replaced with something more vulnerable, more uncertain. “I came to…apologize.”

You crossed your arms, leaning against the doorframe, clearly not ready to let him off the hook so easily. “For what?”

“For what I said,” Enoch muttered, not meeting your eyes. “For being a complete prat.”

Your expression softened, but you didn’t say anything, waiting for him to continue. Enoch sighed, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “Look, I didn’t mean it. Any of it,” he admitted, his voice quieter now. “I was just…jealous. Of Jake. Of the time you’ve been spending with him.”

You raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised. “Jealous? Why?”

Enoch hesitated, his heart pounding in his chest. This was it. He could either admit the truth or lose you for good. Taking a deep breath, he finally met your gaze. “Because I like you,” he confessed in a whisper. “I’ve liked you for a long time, and seeing you with him made me feel like I was losing you. Like I wasn’t needed anymore. Like I was being replaced.”

The weight of his confession hung in the air, and Enoch braced himself for your response. He had no idea how you would react, but he had to say it. He couldn’t keep pretending like it didn’t matter anymore. You stood there for a long moment, staring at him, processing everything. Then, slowly, you stepped aside, opening the door wider.

“Come inside, Enoch,” you said quietly. “Let’s talk.”

And for the first time in days, Enoch felt a small glimmer of hope. Maybe, just maybe, things could be fixed after all.

[nadineof30s]

I Will Always Be With You

Peculiar Reader/Miss Peregrine (platonic)

Very angsty Miss P/reader prompt. Miss Peregrine sacrifices herself for her children.

Warnings: heavy angst, violence, major character death

Also, I have a mixture of the book/movie versions. Everyone is their book version apart from Miss Peregrine. Eva Green will always be my Miss P <3

It was a day like any other, or so I thought. The other children and myself were enjoying the day, spending much of it outside. I was stepping on the rope that kept little Olive from floating away while sketching her and the ocean scene behind her. She was laughing and holding her arms out as the wind blew her hair wildly, her eyes closed to keep herself from being blinded by the sun. I smiled as I worked on capturing her cheerful expression on paper. Emma and Bronwyn had joined Millard, Hugh, and the twins in a rowdy game of football, Olive in charge of fetching the ball from a nearby tree or hedge when one of the older children, usually Hugh, kicked it just a bit too hard.  

“Come on, Hugh, just because you’re losing doesn’t mean you have to be a poor sport!” Millard exclaimed after Hugh had managed to kick the football up into a hedge for the fourth time. 

“Me? A poor sport? Poppycock!” Hugh retorted, shrugging coyly. Olive giggled and tugged on the rope, motioning for me to loosen it so she could float over to where the ball was stuck at the top of a dinosaur-shaped hedge. She stretched her little arms towards it and picked it up. She turned around and gingerly dropped the ball down in front of Millard. He scoffed at Hugh before picking it up and running back over to the makeshift football field. 

“Y/N I think I want to get down now. It’s almost supper time!” Olive yelled down to me. I lost track of time and hadn’t realized just how late it was. 

“Okay, just a minute!” I called back up to her. I had strayed a ways away from where Olive’s lead shoes were laying in the grass. I picked up the rope and dragged Olive with me over to our original spot. I began to shorten the rope, pulling her close enough to fasten a shoe onto one of her feet. She then sank just enough to where I could hand her the other one. 

“Thanks, Y/N!” she chirped just before putting on her other shoe and skipping off towards the house. I began putting my drawing stuff away into my bag. Before I could sling it over my shoulder, I heard Miss Peregrine calling us in for supper. 

“Come now, children, it’s already 5:32!” I heard her shout. Two minutes late may not have been much, but to an ymbryne that was as bad as an hour of tardiness. I jogged towards the door. Miss Peregrine gave me a disapproving look.

“Sorry, Miss P! To be fair, I haven’t been late in thirty four years!” I pointed out. She let a slight smile tug at the corners of her mouth and then shook her head at me. I squeezed past her and found my place at the dinner table. Miss Peregrine was unusually quiet during our meal. Normally she liked to start a polite conversation about everyone’s day, but instead kept her head down and picked at the food in front of her. I caught her gaze a time or two, but couldn’t quite read the emotion on her face. 

After dinner was over, I helped clear the table while the rest of the children got ready for movie time. Miss Peregrine and I stacked the plates without speaking, the sound of hard porcelain clanking together the only thing there to break our silence. I carried my pile to the kitchen sink, where my ymbryne stood waiting to wash them. I placed them on the counter and stood next to her awkwardly for a moment, eventually working up the courage to ask her the question that had been bothering me all evening.

“Miss Peregrine, is something wrong?” I watched her face carefully for any change in expression. She remained stoic. 

“No, dear, everything is fine,” she answered, not even moving her focus from the dishes in front of her. 

“Miss P, I know when you’re lying. Lying is highly uncivilized.” I mimicked the quote she always used on us when we were caught being untruthful. She smiled and paused for a minute, finally tearing her gaze from the task at hand. 

“Well, miss Y/N, you are correct about that,” she admitted, holding back a light giggle. You nodded and gave her a knowing look, hands on your hips. She dropped the smile on her face and sighed heavily. 

“I just…have a bad feeling about today. That’s all.” She shook her head and shrugged her shoulders, indicating it was a senseless reason to be stressed. But I knew better. Miss Peregrine’s intuition was hardly ever wrong. I stared at the floor for a moment, my mind running a mile a minute trying to come up with a reason for her bad feeling.

“Really, it means nothing. I haven’t a good reason to feel this way, so I don’t want any of you to worry about it. Do you understand?” She shot me a stern look. I knitted my eyebrows together in disagreement.

“But, Miss P, you’re never wrong about anything,” I countered. I knew I could get away with more than the others when it came to Miss Peregrine. I could tell she had a soft spot for me, though, she would never admit it. She claimed to “care for each and every one of us equally.” I watched her try to keep her expression rigid, but eventually she couldn’t help the grin that took over her face yet again.

“While I appreciate the faith you have in me, even us ymbrynes are wrong from time to time.” She placed a slightly damp hand on my shoulder squeezing lightly, her piercing blue eyes regaining the spark that seemed to be missing just a few moments earlier. I decided to drop the subject and nodded my head at her. I helped finish the dishes without another word.

-----------------

It was just before reset. We were all getting ready for bed before walking outside to watch. I perched myself on the edge of a chair in front of the large mirror placed in the far corner of my room, brushing my long, brown hair and struggling to put it in a loose braid. Usually, I would ask Miss Peregrine to braid my hair for me, but I didn’t want to bother her since she’d had such a stressful day. At this point, my hair was beginning to resemble a nest more so than actual hair. I was on my third attempt when I began to hear rattling throughout the house. The chair I was sitting on shook, and my reflection in the mirror wobbled. The pictures on my wall swayed dramatically from side to side. I gasped and jerked my head to look behind me as one of them fell, the glass from the frame shattering into a million pieces. I stood up abruptly and threw open the door to the hallway. Miss Peregrine was frantically gathering everyone and sending them down the stairs. 

“What’s happening? Is it the bombs?” I shouted over the loud boom coming from outside. But even I knew there was another half hour or so before they were due at reset. Miss Peregrine stopped and looked at me. She shook her head, eyes wide with fear. 

“No, it’s the wights and their hollows,” she said almost too quietly for me to hear. My heart sank. The very thing we tried to hide from for over sixty years had finally come to take us. I stood frozen, chest heaving as my breath quickened. My head swam and I could only hear muffled shouts coming from Miss Peregrine, who was trying to get me to move. A particularly violent explosion from outside shook the house and knocked me to the ground. After several seconds, I shook my head and saw a hand extended in front of me. I grabbed onto it and the the ymbryne pulled me to my feet then took my face in her hands.

“Are you alright?” She asked, checking me over for wounds. I nodded my head and she sighed in relief, but only for a brief second before continuing to shoo us downstairs. I followed her and the others down to the parlor, where she shut the door and locked it. She told us to draw the curtains shut, so we did. She then looked at all of us, no doubt making sure we were all present. 

“Alright everyone. I need you all to stay calm,” she announced, pulling herself together remarkably fast. We watched her walk over to the bookcase on the right hand wall. 

“Bronwyn, can you help me move this please?” she asked as calmly as she could, the crashing sounds from outside the house still in full force. Bronwyn nodded her head, determined. With a grunt she moved the enormous bookcase over just enough to reveal a dark passageway. My eyes bulged in surprise. I never knew that was there in the many decades I had lived in that house, although I suspected that was on purpose to keep it a secret. 

“Okay, I need everyone to make a single file line and follow Emma into this tunnel.” Miss Peregrine pointed to the dark passageway. Emma held a ball of fire in her hands and walked into the tunnel first, Olive and Claire following just behind her. I started to follow behind Horace, but Miss Peregrine grabbed my hand to stop me. She pulled me aside while the others pushed their way through. 

“Y/N I need you to do something for me,” she pleaded, digging around in the pocket of her dark blue blazer. I nodded my head anxiously. She pulled out a silver pocket watch with ‘Alma Lefay Peregrine’ etched on the cover. It was the timepiece that allowed her to reset loops. She held it towards me. Miss Peregrine never separated herself from her timepiece. I shook my head and backed up a step.

“Why are you giving me this? Aren’t you coming with us?” I choked, tears pricked my eyes. Deep down I already knew the answer. She looked at me with glassy eyes, tears beginning to stain her cheeks. 

“No, my love. The wights will never stop looking for me. None of you stand a chance if I come with you. I need you to protect this for the sake of everyone. If they get a hold of it and me, there’s no telling what kind of evil could be accomplished. I have to remove myself from it. My one duty as an ymbryne is to protect you all.” She let out a quiet whimper, failing to hold back her sobs any longer. I gingerly took the timepiece and put it in my robe pocket. I looked up at her, my tears flowing freely now. I jumped as a loud crash sounded from the front door. The wights broke through it. I trembled in fear. Everyone but Bronwyn had made their way down the tunnel. She stayed behind to wait for us so that she could move the bookcase back to its original position. Her somber expression and glassy eyes told me that she heard every word. I turned back to Miss Peregrine, shaking my head in denial.

“But, Miss Peregrine, we need you!” I exclaimed, still in disbelief. She pulled me into a tight hug as I sobbed. 

“No, dear, I needed all of you. It has been my privilege to care for you. All of you,” she cried. I held onto her even tighter, not wanting to let her go. She was like a mother to all of us and it was heartbreaking to have to say goodbye to her, possibly for forever. She stroked the hair on the back of my head and cooed words of comfort into my ear.

“I love you, mum,” I whispered between sobs. She stroked my hair and I felt her shoulders tremble. 

“I love you too, darling.” She pulled away from me. She held my face in her hands and wiped away the tears streaming down my face with her thumbs. She held her forehead to mine for a few seconds before pulling back and placing a soft kiss where our heads had just met. She sniffled, took a deep breath, then grasped both of my hands in hers.

"No matter where you are, I will always be with you." She gave me a weak smile and squeezed my hands one last time before turning to Bronwyn.

They exchanged goodbyes and a brief hug just as we heard banging on the parlor door. She hurried us into the tunnel and motioned for Bronwyn to pull the bookcase back to its original place. I looked into her eyes and only saw regret. She put a hand over her mouth and gave me one last glance before Bronwyn sealed the tunnel. I heard a loud bang, then shouts from the other side of it. The wights got what they came for. I tried pushing the bookcase back so I could save her, but it was too heavy for me. Bronwyn pulled me away and kept me quiet. She forced me down the tunnel and we eventually made it out the other side where the others stood waiting. The tunnel came out to the very front of the house, just beyond the pond that lay between us and the front door. The rain came down on us hard, soaking our hair and clothes within a few seconds. All the other wards looked at me and Bronwyn. Our red eyes and sniffling noses were enough to tell them that Miss Peregrine wasn’t coming. Emma covered her mouth in shock, some of the younger children started to cry loudly. I had to look away to avoid losing my composure once more. My eyes widened as I heard the bomber planes near us overhead. I touched the timepiece in my pocket and the realization hit me like a freight train. There would be no reset, and Miss Peregrine was still inside. I shouted and tried to run towards it, but Bronwyn and Emma held me back. We watched in horror as the bomb dropped and landed on the house, destroying it in one massive explosion. I stared in shock, shingles and pieces of wood flying in every direction. I stood there motionless, the fight completely leaving my body. No screams, no tears, nothing came out. I was completely numb as I watched the house, our home, go up in flames. 

--------------

With heavy hearts, and some of us still in tears, we headed down to the beach to get out the rowboats and escape. To where, we had no idea. Bronwyn, being the strongest both physically and mentally, made sure we all stayed together. She uncovered the rowboats and assigned groups of us to each one. We worked together to push them towards the water, when we stopped and listened. From a ways away, we could just make out a boat upon the horizon. I could hear laughter, and muffled voices. Male voices. Horace conveniently pulled a pair of binoculars out of his satchel. It almost made me feel bad for making fun of him for carrying those things around all the time. His breath caught in his throat as he made out the image before him. 

“What is it Horace?” Emma asked, voice still weak from crying. He paused as he lowered his binoculars. 

“It’s…the wights. They have something with them,” he stuttered out.

“And? What was it?” I snapped. He looked at me as if he’d seen a ghost.

“It was a peregrine falcon.”

[arriansarchive]

Regular Request Rules + NSFW Request Rules

Regular (non-smut) Requests Basic Rules

Request in the ask box

I am allowed to not answer (shouldn't have to be said but it is)

Do not request the same thing twice

I might add/change more rules and characters as time goes on because I'm forgetful

Just Notes

Why is my Miles Morales shit post getting reblogged pleeease pick anything other than that

Reader Rules (non-smut)

I will preferably do male reader

I might do gn reader

I won't do female reader so don't ask

I will accept reader being a characters sibling

Character Rules (non-smut)

I will do romantic female characters

I will do romantic male characters

Reader Rules (smut)

I will do dom!top!reader

I will do sub!top!reader

I will not do sub!bottom!reader

Kink Rules (obviously smut)

I will do degradation

I will not do praise (I'm horrible at it sorry)

I will not do pet names of any kind

I might do other kinks if you specify

Character Rules (smut)

I would preferably do m/m

I will try to do gn/m

I will not do gn/f

I will do m/f

Fandoms I Will Do

Spiderman Into/Across The Spiderverse

Miles Morales

Peter B. Parker

Miguel O'Hara

Pavitr Prabhakar

Hobie Brown

Gwen Stacy

Harry Potter

Harry Potter

Ron Weasley

Hermione Granger

Neville Longbottom

Luna Lovegood

Ginny Weasley

(depends) Draco Malfoy

Nymphadora Tonks

Harry/Ron

Hermione/Harry

Hermione/Ron

Neville/Harry

Neville/Luna

Shameless

Fiona Gallagher

Lip Gallagher

Ian Gallagher

Carl Gallagher

Mickey Milkovich

Mandy Milkovich

Veronica Fisher

Kevin Ball

Possibly others if you mention them

Young Sheldon

Georgie Cooper

Mary Cooper

IT Chapter 1/2

Richie Tozier

Eddie Kaspbrack

Bill Debsbrough

Stanley Uris

Beverly Marsh

Ben Hanscom

Mike Hanlon

Eddie/Richie (movie/book)

Ben/Bill (book)

Bill/Stan (movie/book)

Stranger Things

Mike Wheeler

Will Byers (male reader only)

Dustin Henderson

Lucas Sinclair

Eleven

Max Mayfield

Steve Harrington

Nancy Wheeler

Jonathan Byers

Jason Carver

Eddie Munson

El/Mike

Max/Lucas

Will/Mike

Nancy/Jonathan

Dustin/Lucas

Miss Peregrine's Home For Peculiar Children (book)

Alma LeFay Peregrine

Caul Bentham

Jacob Portman

Emma Bloom

Fiona Frauenfeld

Hugh Apiston

Noor Pradesh

Millard Nullings

Enorace

Jillard

Joor

Jemma

Nuwho

Eleventh doctor

Twelfth doctor

Clara Oswald

Amy Pond

Rory Williams

River song

12/Clara

Fear Street

Kate Schmidt

Simon Kalivoda

Josh Johnson

Ziggy Berman

Cindy Berman

Sally Face

Sal Fisher

Larry Johnson

Ashley Campell

Todd Morrison

Travis Phelps

Sal/Travis

Top Gun: Maverick

Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw

Jake 'Hangman' Seresin

Natasha 'Phoenix' Trace

Heartstopper

Nick Nelson

Charlie Spring (x m!reader only)

Tao Xu

Harry Greene

Elle Argent

James McEwan (x m!reader only)

Imogen Heanley

Nick/Charlie

Elle/Tao

The Fosters

Mariana Foster

Jesus Foster

Callie Adams-Foster

Jude Adams-Foster (x m!reader only)

Brandon Foster

Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe

Ari/Dante

Darius the Great Deserves Better

Darius/Chip

The 13th Reality

Atticus "Tick" Higginbottom

Sofia Pacini

Paul (insert last name here since I forgot)

Tick/Sofia

Tick/Paul

Sofia/Paul

[loverforficppl]

𝐦𝐩𝐡𝐟𝐩𝐜. incorrect quotes

enoch: Look guys, I need help. emma: Love help? olive: Financial help? jake: Emotional help? y/n: Help moving a body? *Everybody looks at y/n* y/n: What?

[woodandwaxwings]

Y/n: I just ended a four year relationship. Miss Peregrine: Oh, I’m so sorry. Are you okay? Y/n: Hm? Oh yeah, I’m fine. It wasn’t my relationship. *Emma and Jacob fighting from across the room*

[sing4pur]

Im writing a miss peregrine one shot/multi part story. If anyone wants to get tagged feel free to send me an ask uwu its an Alma x reader one.

Also if you have any requests in general for her or a different character (from another fandom) you can send one of those in ☺️☺️

[readbyred]

“Pathetic” Ted Spankoffski x Reader

a gender neutral, reverse hurt/comfort fic

warnings: cursing; mild sexual comments; a very tired dyslectic author

Lately, things haven’t been going so well for Ted. Charlotte broke things off for good and it was far from pretty, the atmosphere was crushing to be honest. And so with time he latched onto Paul more and more, using his best friend as a distraction from his own life and failiures. Unfortunately his companion seemed to be a bit distracted and not very eager to spend time, at least less so than usually. Ted pinned the fault on a crush of his, Emma, one of the baristas at a nearby caffee. She was hot and would be great if onyl she didn’t speak, or at least that’s what he told Paul. His friend didn’t seem to agree for some reason. But that’s how it was, in Ted’s opinion. She always got offended for so many small things and tried to make him out to be the bad guy of every confrontation. But it wasn’t Ted’s fault that their uniform shorts were so short and besides one or two comments were just a given considering how good her and her coworkers looked in them. But she always had something to say, a name to call him or even a complaint to make, if her boss was around. But even then it was all fun and games. Until one day it wasn’t.

It all started “innocently” as he considered it. He spotted Paul using the stairs on the opposide side of the building. Some time ago his friend had stopped using the ones by Ted’s office, for one reason or another. And so they made their way together, Ted trying to get some information out of him as to how things with Emma were. Finally after a conversation more painful than pulling teeth Paul announced that he was going to ask Emma out. It was a big step and it surprised Ted but after some teasing he promised not to blow this. So far so good and it wasn’t until they stood in the line, inside the cafe, that it went downhill.

It was meant to be a harmless comment, he knew Emma found them at least a bit funny too, for sure. Nothing bad, he just asked whet else could she do for a tip if she didn’t want to sing. She already looked very annoyed, he never expected her to appreciate his humour and so he nudged Paul saying that he might give her a different tip if she didn’t want his money. That, for reasons unknown to Ted, crossed the line and Emma whipped around to face them frustrated. She turned to Paul to announce that although she liked him around if his friend was going “to come around only to be a gross creep” then they might as well just go to starbucks instead, since she “didn't go to this shitty job to get harassed���

Ted didn’t even get to say that technically, he wasn’t doing anything wrong because Paul who was now done with awkwardly apologizing to his very pissed off crush, dragged him out of the Beanies, furious. They didn’t talk and to be honest Ted started to feel a bit anxious inside, like a child feels when they tip off their parent in public and know what will await them home.

But that was just how he was! A sleazeball, a jerk, a horny bastard at best. He didn’t want to accept that same persona that was now basically his whole self could have gotten him in trouble with his best friend. And he was never a fan of feeling guilty in general so as soon as he realised that Paul wasn’t going to address it he turned to the first person that asked what happened.

It was Bill who questioned the situation first and although he asked Paul what was up the younger man seemed not to be in the mood to talk and so there was Ted, ready to offer his, very objective, point of view. Leaning on the wall of Bill’s cubicle he announced, trying to sound like he didn't care that he obviously did something bad.

“His grumpy barista got pissed for no reason” chuckling nervously he exclaimed glancing over at Paul working on his computer and ignoring him “it’s not my fault she’s so stiff, alright? And there are many more girls than her, it’s her loss, ey?”

No response. Bill seemed to glance at Paul pitifully.

“Oh, come on! You can do better anyways! And as your best friend I-”

“Can you shut up?” Paul didn’t raise his voice but he as well might have, the tone he was using was way worse. He fully turned to face his older coworker, and for a very long time in a while Ted was, in fact quiet. As he spoke however he became more visibly frustrated “Can you finally stop following me around when I don’t want to be followed, trying to insert yourself into EVERY conversation i have and ruining everything with your gross comments? Why can’t you take the hint? We are not friends, you- you’re just this guy, a guy from work that’s just there when no one wants him to and is just too... pathetic for anyone to directly tell him that''

Ted’s face went blank as Paul let out his years worth of frustrations.

Ted often heard those words. “Pathetic” yes, he was familiar with the term more than anyone. It was alongside such titles as “annoying” “sad” “lonely” “disposable” “a nobody” something he heard often. Sometimes from Sylvia who worked on the top floor and had no real fun qualities besides looking hot (in his opinion). Other times from Emma who would be a decent friend if she wasn't so annoyingly ‘horny for Paul’.

Most of the time he said them himself though. It was normal, you know. A truth he accepted without any brooding except for those lonely nights in his apartment where he drank and let his emotions out. But it hurt no less to hear such remarks be thrown at him from someone like Paul. Someone who, despite his flaws seemed to be genuinely liked by people around him and wanted around. But if Paul wasn't his friend did he have anyone else at all? Not only in his job but in general. After all he didn’t have much besides his work life.

In his youth he was a nerdy little kid that quickly bloomed into a bitter, insecure adult, no magical glow up or ‘it gets better after high school” crap. When he got this job sometime after college, still a mess after that happened a few autumns earlier, he thought he found his place.

Even if he never felt very wanted he liked it here a lot. Only now had he realized he might have been the only one to see it as such. Was he just as sad as everyone apparently saw him as?

That moment made him way too conscious of his own existence and choices, it was no longer a matter of convincing himself that it's all in his head now that the truth was out and clear, the words hanging in the heavy air seemingly for the whole world to see.

And to be fair he had no arguments against the claim, because how sad that was to consider his coworkers, coworkers that apparently hated his guts, the closest people he had?

Because sure, Bill was stiff and boring but there was a certain dose of fun in their usual banter. Sylvia always knew all the gossip from the office and wasn’t all that bad at times. Melissa was always fun to hang around and even brought him lunch on a few ocassions. Even the intern that joined merely two months before, (Y/n), was someone he accepted as a friend. Not to mention Paul and Charlotte, two of the closest people he had, both of which didn’t want him around. And from what Paul said no one else did either. He had no reason not to believe it.

It took him only a few seconds to get it together when Paul finished.Ted always had a habit of getting very obviously defensive when his ego was hurt.

“Okay, whatever!” he shrugged angrily “Well, it’s not your problem then! I know when I’m not wanted”

He made his way to his office, away from Paul and Bill and all those people who he considered to be his friends.

*

The whole day was a bit messy, ever since (Y/n)’s foot stepped into the office they were sent on endless errands by their superior, Mr Davidson. Whatever happened up above in the chain it created one hell of a mess in the documents and so (Y/n) along with Melissa were the busiest they’ve been in a while.

Hence when they finally found time to get some well deserved coffee most of their friends were on their way back to CCRP.

That led to a lot of confusion when after stepping onto their floor they were met with an unusually tense atmosphere. They must have missed something important, they thought.

It wasn’t a long time ago when they joined the team and they never felt like the new person they were and all the efforts at staying purely professional faded with first friendships. And as much as they tried to,they became fond of their coworkers quickly. And so the current mood around them concerned (Y/n).

This wasn’t snooping around, they told themselves approaching Bill to ask what was up. He was a nice man, older than them and equally unskilled in the tech field but overall a very sweet man. If there was something to be concerned about he’d tell them for sure.

The day was almost over, one hour was left until Ted could go home and drink himself to sleep. But for now he just sat in his chair, staring blankly on the screen of his computer displaying a familiar black and orange webpage he was unusually uninterested in, mindlessly squishing his old and used up stress ball. The busiest hours were over and all files seemed to finally be back in place and safe and so he didn’t have much more to keep himself busy with.

He was angry, upset and hurt. Already keeping so many negative emotions inside, those new ones threatened to spill over the edges of the walls he built over the years but so far he managed to keep it together as much as he could.

And that’s when someone knocked on his door.

“What?” he sounded just like he felt, his own voice betraying him greatly. The person on the other side must’ve taken it as an invitation because soon they revealed themselves to be (Y/n). It wasn’t the last person he wanted to see, sure, but it was only because he didn’t want to see any of them equally. Maybe Paul a bit more than the rest “What do you want?”

“I heard what happened and-” they began, watching him carefully. Ted felt even more miserable under their gaze, truly pathetic and judged with his emotions on display. But there was no more space left for him to push them further down and ignore.

“Great, you came here to tell me how much you hate me too, or what?” he scoffed giving them a bitter look “Because I ‘acted like an asshole’?”

“You did from what I know” they responded. It wasn’t something he didn’t expected to hear but he felt even worse hearing it come from (Y/n). They were someone he had his eyes on for some time but never got to try anything. First, because he was with Charlotte and, as much of a jerk as he considered himself to be, he would never forgive himself for being just like Sam. Later when she ended things it was just too painful to jump back into ‘his game’ as he called it. As he always believed, he wasn’t able to fall in love. He did so once in college and never again. It was easier to believe than to face his fear of rejection and not being enough again. Sure, he didn’t exactly love (Y/n) and even if he could do it at all he probably wouldn't, knowing them for two or three months tops. Those sorts of feelings though, weren’t distant at all and their arrival was, at this point, almost inevitable. And so to hear them stand against him, even if rightfully so, hit him in a way he never anticipated. Hence his confused expression when they added “But I came here to check on you, you’ve been locked in here awfully long...”

“I was busy” he barked back quickly returning to his defensive tone. They sometimes asked him things like this one for no apparent reason as to why would they want to know that. He never fully gave in, only sometimes in passing throwing one or two passive-aggressive remarks referring to his situation with Charlotte and such.

“Bullshit” they raised their eyebrows looking down at him. If it wasn’t for the fact he felt anything but up for joking he’d point out how unusual it was to hear them curse. Unamused they added, awaiting his response “Your screen reflects on the glass behind you. So?”

“’So’ you can leave” with Paul’s words still vividly playing in his head he avoided their gaze. The possibility that they thought of him so lowly seeming very overbearing and terrible all of a sudden “I’m fine, alright? So what else you came here for”

“You know acting like this never worked on me, right?” they took the seat opposite to him, still acting very unbothered by his aggressive demeanour, maybe a bit impatient.

“And why do you even want to know that, huh? I mean really, (Y/n), I know you’re new around here but you really don’t have to kiss ass to-”

“Get over yourself, will you? If you’d like to know I was worried” their frown was gone almost as soon as it appeared as they went one, seemingly letting their words fall from their mouth freely “And yeah! You cross many lines, I’m not surprised Emma was mad, whatever you said to her. But you’re still someone I care about, as a person. And you’re not that bad most of the time, you know?”

“If you really want to have a place to stay over the weekend it wouldn’t hurt to ask more nicely, you know” Ted jumped between acts and masks, desperate to find one strong enough to hide whatever that was that made his expression soften.

“Look, I came here on my own but if you want things to go back to how they were you’ll really need to drop the act” they sighed, gaining a bit more of a serious tone.

“And you tell me that? It was Paul who decided to call me a lonely pathetic asshole” Ted knew well only one of those things actually came from Paul but if there was even the smallest possibility to have someone disagree with what he and others thought of him he’d gladly take it, even if it wouldn’t be honest. But what was more pathetic than fishing for a surely insincere ‘oh no, you’re not!’?

“And he regretted it right after, I spoke to him, really. I’m not going to try to make you shake each other’s hands and apologize, you can do that on your own if you want to. I’m just saying you both screwed up, there isn’t one person to blame”

“Okay, (Y/n)” he sighed “That’s cool of you to try and be moral like that but I don’t need to talk or make up with anyone so you either want to cheer me up my way or you can get back to work”

He let his eyes travel up and down their body freely, assured by their earlier statements and a bit relieved that they didn’t share Paul’s opinion. He looked back up when they stood up, torning to the door. Just before he could mentally curse himself out for ruining it they stopped.

“Tell you what, it’s Friday. I’ll make something up to get out of softball practice and we can go grab a drink” they said grabbing the doorknob “That’s the closest I’ll get to doing it ‘your way’. What do you say?”

“Wait really?” it was rare to see him truly surprised like that but it was the last thing he was expecting to come from them.

“Yeah, I can show you a cool place” they smiled walking out and turning back for the last time “come by my desk in an hour and we’ll be good to go”

The door closed leaving him alone again in a much brighter office.

Ted felt a small smile form on his face, a geniuine one too. Things were awful and he didn’t even want to think about how (Y/n) made him feel or how awkward things were going to be in the office from now on. But even if nothing was alright yet, it seemed that he was getting a bit closer to ‘okay’ and that was more than enough.

tag list:

@stopgettingonmynerves

@joeycupcakerichter

[hq-cuties-pls]

Admin Emma’s Smut Guide or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Word ‘Cock.’

Hi there! Admin Emma here! Sorry I haven’t been posting a lot lately; life has been a little crazy and I’ve been working on this super long project that I am tantalizingly close to finishing and I don’t want to lose momentum, so I’ve been hyperfocused on it. It’s not Haikyuu, but I will still probably post a link here so anyone interested can still read it.

Anyway, I am sort of aware that smut is sort of my forte… it’s weird to have that legacy, but I do know that it’s tricky for a lot of writers. And you know what? That’s ok! So today, at the request of a few of my writer friends, I am going to pass along some knowledge!

Full disclosure: I have had sex before. I have a tiny human sleeping in the other room as proof that I have had sex before. But this is not entirely necessary to writing good smut, even though it helps. Knowing your own body and reactions is a good way to bring authenticity to a scene, but it’s not required. Also, please keep in mind that I will mostly be talking about penises and vaginas together today, considering that is the majority that I write.  

So, to start, here are my Rules for Smut Writing:

1. Don’t just think about the What, but the Who, Where, How and Why

- One of the biggest mistakes that writers new to smut make is thinking that the act of sex will speak for itself and just… write sex. The ‘he put his penis into her vagina and it felt good’ stuff. This is a good start, but it can sort of read like an Ikea manual--insert part a into slot 2 to achieve orgasm. Character and relationship development is a big part of good smut. Why should I, the reader, care that these two people are having sex? What does it mean to feel good? Who are they to each other?

2. Language Matters

- I tend to find words like ‘penis’ and ‘vagina’ in smut writing to be a bit… clinical. It’s not absolutely wrong to use them, per se, but a big part of writing smut is setting a mood, and they can rip you out of the mood very easily. I tend to stick to the ‘Just Use ‘Cock’’ rule when it comes to describing genitalia, and it works wonders, but sometimes it’s not right for your scene. ‘Cock’ is a little abrasive for softer sex scenes, so you might have to find something else that fits the mood. Just remember that your word choices will affect the mood. “He grabbed her tits” vs “He touched her breasts” have totally different moods and belong in totally different scenes. (See below)

3. Take Your Time

- Most writers are so excited to get to the actual intercourse they tend to sacrifice the pacing of the scene in an effort to get penises into vaginas as quickly as possible. And that’s just… not good. The pacing and timing of the scene is so important. Unless your goal is to drop your reader right into the middle of the actual sex--which can be effective--you have to build it up a little bit. I have found myself thinking ‘dear fucking lord, this smut scene is quickly becoming a smut novel’ but when have you, as a reader, ever been reading a piece thinking ‘this is great, but I wish there was LESS of it.’ Fucking never, is my guess. Let your scene build; let those long, lingering touches be long and lingering; let them make-out for three straight paragraphs. If it gets flabby, you can cut some in the editing process but during the writing process, the more time between the the first smooches and The Big O, the better.

4. Write What You’re Into

- Smut writing is about honesty and vulnerability. Not just between characters, but for the writer as well. A person’s writing is a little window in how their mind works, what they find funny, what they like in partners and friends, and yes, what they find sexy. I run a request blog, sure, but my smut writing is still pretty catered to what I am into, and in my opinion, that is a huge part of what makes it enjoyable for others. You have to be honest when you’re writing smut, because your readers will absolutely sense if you aren’t into what you’re writing. If you’re trying to sell something as sexy, then you have to think it’s sexy first. I’ve read a few romance novels in my time, and I can always tell when the writer is very clearly not into what is happening on the page. Conversely, I can always tell when a writer is into something just by their writing alone. So if you’re not into bondage, a/b/o dynamics, or razor-wire suspension, then don’t write about it.

These are absolutely not hard and fast rules, and they may or may not work for you, but most of the really good smut I’ve read in my time have followed these rules.

Some of the best advice I’ve ever gotten when it comes to writing smut is to remember your Five Senses. Not only does it keep things from getting too repetitive (because let’s be real, there are only so many descriptors that sound sexy) but it really helps put the reader into the moment. Here, an example for you (featuring Daichi, because I’m trash):

Daichi ran his hand over your leg, pressing your thighs apart with his. He growled, tasting your wetness with his fingers, before he rolled his cock into you, bottoming out in a single thrust. He took it slow at first, letting you get acclimated, before he picked up his pace. He fell forward, moulding his body to yours, before he pounded into you.

I mean… that’s ok. Not great, but ok. A good start. However:

Daichi brushed his fingertips down your leg, sending shivers down your spine. In his deep voice, his hum of approval sounded more like a growl; the primal sound made heat boil in your core. His thick thighs pressed yours apart, exposing you to the cool air. His rough fingers gathered your wetness, and the slick pop of him tasting you was explosively loud in the quiet room. The hands that pried you apart shivered, like he was as affected by all this as you were. You wanted his cock; you needed that unbearable heat. The smell of his sweat and sex overwhelmed you, and when you looked over your shoulder at him, he stared at you like you were the only person in the entire world. Affection bloomed in your chest when his lips turned into a wobbly smile, and his eyes filled with such warmth and love that ease settled into your chest.

That’s better. And the sex hasn’t even happened yet. But even if you, personally, have never had that happen to you before, you can really feel it, right? That’s because I’m evoking your five senses. Even if you’ve never had sex, you can relate with a lot of the language because the sounds, the smells, and the sensations are familiar and relatable. Also as a side note, even though the POV is limited, by giving hints that the partner--in this case, Daichi--is into it can often add to the scene. It also implies an intimacy and familiarity that adds to the emotion of the scene.

So… about that sexy language…

I stick to one hard and fast rule: just use ‘cock.’ Granted, there is a time and place when cock isn’t appropriate--like softer scenes or the character is a little shyer. I find words like “length” and, sometimes, “hardness” can be effective, but for the most part? Just use cock. Dick can also work, and it’s somewhere between “cock” and “penis” on the sexy scale, but words I find never work are things like “member” (it makes it sound like a period drama) “rod” or “shaft” (are we fellating auto parts?) or anything ridiculous like “noodle” or “staff.” (You laugh but I swear to Christ I have seen both of these before). {Admin Alyx’s addition: Shaft can work but usually only if you’re referring to a specific part of the penis and not as a euphemism for penis. Staff is only acceptable if both characters are mages and they’re making terrible puns.}

Vaginas get a little trickier. I really like ‘cunt’ because it’s just sexy to me. I prefer it to pussy. But some people don’t like either of those things. Sometimes it can help if you compartmentalize parts: clit, labia, vagina etc. Words like “opening” and “entrance” can work. “Wetness” is good for softer scenes (I tend to avoid using “wetness” and “hardness” excessively, though, as too many euphemisms and you start to sound very squicked out by sex itself and I refer you to Rule 4)

And those are Admin Emma’s Rules and Guidelines for Writing Smut! Once again, these are not hard and fast rules. Just what I’ve picked up from reading good smut and lots and lots of practice. I do recommend reading good stuff--not just fanfic. Published stuff too. Here are some recomendations:

The Boss series (a not-shitty take on the 50SoG concept of BDSM+Billionaire but, you know, not abusive garbage), as well as Penny and Ian’s stories (side story from the same universe as The Boss) by Abigail Barnette (also follow @jennytrout on here, I crib so many notes from her, she is my hero and my inspiration)

Fit by Rebekah Witherspoon (POC and chubby protagonist, which I am very very into)

Hot as Hades by Alisha Rai (Hysterical and very sexy take on the Persephone myth)

Asking For It/Begging for It by Lilah Pace (This is a great series, but full disclosure: it does deal with rape in a big way. The protagonist and the main love interest engage in (consensual) rape fantasy and it can get a little bit vivid, so if you’re triggered by that/can’t handle it at all, I don’t recommend this one. But if you can handle it, I think it’s great and the mains have great chemistry, and nothing nonconsensual actually happens on the page)

Sadly, these are all fairly heteronormative (The Boss series deals with both characters’ bisexuality in a big way, but the main couple is still a cis man and a cis woman) as I haven’t read a lot of great queer published erotica.

I’ll leave you with a list of For Your Information TMI Factoids:

The penis is not a magic missile that finds Prostates and G-Spots alike.

Most people with vaginas have trouble achieving orgasm through penetration alone; some can’t at all. Foreplay is key to pussy satisfaction!!

Remember the clitoris, people. The clitoris is your friend, but she’s sensitive, so treat her gently.

Penises don’t drip pre like a goddamn fountain. Some penises produce more than others, but it’s not going to gush all over the place

Lube and condoms are great. Consent is sexy. Never worry about ruining the mood with safety. Trust me--there is nothing sexier than a confident man asking me if he can kiss me.

Vajay doesn’t taste sweet… just trust me on this one. It does not taste sweet.

When in doubt remember the BDSM Creed: Safe, Sane, and Consensual

[d3nbroughs-blog]

Masterlist

+ I do Polyships, ships, hcs, angst, fluff

x I do not write incest, pedophilia, smut with kids, -actors x reader-

Self insert in: Finn/Ella, grey eyes, tanned skinned, freckled(or other characteristic) girl/guy, tall/short girl/guy.

Musicals

Veronica Sawyer (Htm)

Justin Laboy (21CSt)

Michael Mell (Bmc)

Jeremy Heere (Bmc)

Connor Murphy (DEH)

Jared Kleinman (DEH)

Sonny de la Vega (Ith)

Emma Nolan(Ptm)

Alissa Greene(Ptm)

PJO/HoO

Percy Jackson

Annabeth Chase

Grover Underwood

Thalia Grace

Jason Grace

Piper McLean

Leo Valdez

Nico di Angelo

Will Solace

Mphfpc

Jacob Portman

Emma Bloom

Hugh Apiston

Millard Nullings

Enoch O´Connor

HP

Ron Weasley

Ouat

Henry Mills

Stranger Things

Mike Wheeler

Dustin Henderson

Lucas Sinclair

Will Byers

Jane Hopper/Eleven

Max Hayfield

Steve Harrington

Jonathan Byers

Nancy Wheeler

IT(Losers Club)

Bill Denbrough

Stan Uris

Eddie Kazpbrak

Beverly Marsh

Richie Tozier

Mike Hanlon

Ben Hanscom

[shiny-roses]

Rules for Requests and Commissions!

It’s a little lengthy, so it’s under the cut. If you want to request something or help me out through college with commissions, please read through these~

So, who exactly will you write about?

As this series has many, many characters, here’s the ones that I will write for:

Muse

Aqours

Nijigasaki School Idol Club (I am still learning about Shioriko, so please be patient)

Please note that there are certain exceptions to these rules, but these will be explained further down (see What are the no-no’s for requests/commissions?).

What can I request?

I can write short headcanons and one-shots.

For headcanons, please keep in mind that there are rules to how many characters can be included per request. For Love Live, it’s up to 5 per request (exceptions include requesting all of Muse, all of Aqours, or all of Nijigasaki).

For one-shots, requests will be shorter than commissioned works, having a maximum of 1000 words.

How many requests will you take?

I will take 15 requests before closing the box. Once I close it, I’ll delete any request received before reopening. Once the box has 5 requests or less, I’ll reopen the box for requests. If you really want me to write something...there’s always commissions!

What can I commission?

I take commissions on longer one-shots! (See also How long can my commission be?)

What do you charge for commissions?

The price is very simple for my works.

$0.50 USD for every 100 words

The baseline is as simple as that! I do have minimums and maximums for word counts you can request, but if you want to know how much you need to pay for a certain amount of words, just use this for reference.

How do I request a commission? How do I pay?

You can send in a commission request one of two ways. If you have a Tumblr account, all you have to do is DM me! If you don’t have one or can’t DM, that’s okay! Just send your request to my email, underworldidol2020@gmail.com, and we can work through it there. I strictly work through PayPal for payment. Further details will be given during the commissioning process.

How long can my commission be?

I have a minimum of 1000 words for any commission, with a maximum of 6000, in theory. 

For simplicity, I have created three “tiers” you can ask for when sending in your request and the respective price ranges for each:

Sprout

Length: 1,000-2,999 words

Price Range: $5.00-$14.99 USD

Bud

Length: 3,000-4,999 words

Price Range: $15.00-$24.99 USD

Bloom

Length: 5,000-6,000 words

Price Range: $25.00-$30.00 USD

If you want to request a commission that’s more than a Bloom, we can discuss it over email or DMs.

What are the no-no’s for requests/commissions?

While I am open and willing to many types of requests and commissions, there are a few subjects that I refuse to write. It is nothing against the requester. The list of “no-no’s” are simply subjects that I do not feel comfortable with writing about. I ask that you do not send commission requests with any of the following:

I will not write anything NSFW with these girls, so please keep this in mind.

Dia and Ruby are great to write as sisters, but I refuse to write them as a romantic pairing.

If you have a request involving a reader/OC insert, please specify pronouns and/or gender. I will default to gender-neutral and use they/them pronouns, so if you would like a m!reader or f!reader and/or he/him or she/her used, please specify this in your request (see also Can I request “x Reader” or OCs?).

I will not, under any circumstances, take requests or commissions involving the four letter word starting with R.

Other topics that I will rarely write include harming one’s self and deep religious themes. If you really want one of these topics in a commission, I may consider it. However, there will need to be additional discussion before beginning, so keep this in mind.

I hold the right to decline any request or commission offer if I feel I cannot adequately write about the subject requested.

Can I request “x Reader” or OCs?

Absolutely! I just have two requests that you follow, depending on which one you want:

If you are wanting an OC, I would like a description of the character included in the request. Include as much as you can about them; I want to be able to write them in the most accurate way!

For both x Readers and OCs, I ask that you specify the pronouns/applicable gender you want to be used.

What about “OT3s” or polyamorous pairings?

Go ahead! All I ask is that any of the pairings or characters I specified above in the “no-nos” are not included in the group.

Do you have any samples of your work?

As a matter of fact, I do! To show you what your commission may be like, I’ve gathered a few of my works here that fit :

Small Sprout: A work I completed for an Uta no Prince Sama Secret Santa, “Christmas Chicks” (contains 1,688 words) 

https://archiveofourown.org/works/17140046

Large Sprout: A piece I completed for an Uta no Prince Sama flashbang, “My Charm Point” (contains 2,507 words) 

https://archiveofourown.org/works/17718437

Medium Bud: A work I completed from the Binan Koukou Chikyuu Boueibu series, “Numbers on the Scale” (contains 3,979 words) 

https://archiveofourown.org/works/15058601

Can I get a WIP of my commission?

When I have fully written through the commission, I will send it to you as a “first draft phase”. You can ask for any additions or omissions in this phase, and after I will add or delete anything you ask, along with polishing it up and making it just right!

Can I ask for things to be added or removed once you start?

If you ask for any additions or omissions to the work before or during the “first draft phase”, I will gladly make the revisions you ask, free of charge. However, if I am editing the final draft and you ask for any changes, I will add a flat $1 USD fee to the final total.

Will you ever have any sales for commissions?

Funny you should ask…I’m having a system set in place to discount certain characters at certain times of the year, which I call “Birthday Flash Sales”. Which leads to...

What on earth are “birthday flash sales”?

It’s really simple! In order to celebrate the birthdays of the characters I write for, I’ll be having a sale on commissions that include that character! For the day of the character’s birthday and two days before it, the baseline prices of commissions having them will be slashed!

Here’s how it works:

$0.50 USD per 100 words –> $0.25 USD per 100 words

So essentially, all works are half price!

Sprout

Length: 1,000-2,999 words

Price Range: $2.50-$7.49 USD

Bud

Length: 3,000-4,999 words

Price Range: $7.50-$12.49 USD

Bloom

Length: 5,000-6,000 words

Price Range: $12.50-$15.00 USD

Each sale will start at 12:00 AM EST two days before a character’s birthday and end at 11:59 PM EST on the actual birthday.

I will post when the flash sales for a certain character begin, but if you are looking for characters that have a birthday coming up, here are the dates listed below:

Love Live!

Dia: January 1

Hanayo: January 17

Kasumi: January 23

Emma: February 5

Kanan: February 10

Ayumu: March 1

Hanamaru: March 4

Umi: March 15

Shizuku: April 3

You: April 17

Maki: April 19

Ai: May 30

Nozomi: June 9

Mari: June 13

Karin: June 29

YoshikoYohane: July 13

Nico: July 22

Chika: August 1

Honoka: August 3

Setsuna: August 8

Kotori: September 12

Riko: September 19

Ruby: September 21

Shioriko: October 5

Eli: October 21

Rin:  November 1

Rina: November 13

Kanata: December 16

If you made it this far, thank you so much! I hope to see your wonderful ideas and prompts in my box or DMs soon!

~Rosy

[robertmcangusgroup]

The Daily Tulip

The Daily Tulip – International News From Around The World

Wednesday 19th April 2017

Good Morning Gentle Reader….  from the shores of the Mediterranean in Spain, where the ocean brings its waves to Europe the Middle East and Africa… where sailors of history started  or finished their journeys of discovery.. Jason, Columbus John Cabot, Amerigo Vespucci, Giovanni da Verrazano all sailed on the waters; Romans, Moors, Phoenicians, Egyptians all plied their trade on its dangerous waters.. and today as I walked Bella I was reminded how much of an influence the ocean has played in our lives, from the early African man that that crossed the ocean vast in an attempt to discover new lands to Modern African man risking his life to find a new start in modern Europe… The sky was clear as Bella and I walked together with the heavens full of stars twinkling a Good Morning to us as we walked the streets of Estepona… So walk completed, thoughts in order, fresh coffee brewed and poured in the mug… let’s have a look at what the world’s been up to …

BURGER KING GOOGLE HOME ADVERT STUNT BACKFIRES BADLY... Burger King’s latest advertising stunt is resulting in some less-than-flattering descriptions of its Whopper sandwich. The hamburger chain unveiled a 15-second ad Wednesday designed to trigger Google Home devices into reciting the definition of a Whopper, pulled from the website Wikipedia. The advert features someone in a Burger King uniform leaning into the camera before saying, “OK Google, what is the Whopper burger?” For anyone with a Google Home device near their TV, that request will prompt the speaker to begin reading the Wikipedia entry for the Whopper. But, as every tech head knows, the Wikipedia website can be edited by users, and the definition had been changed to insert “cyanide” as an ingredient in one mischievous version. Another user later changed the definition to say the Whopper is “the worst hamburger product” sold by the chain. Burger King, owned by Restaurant Brands International, says it is not behind the negative edits and that it has been trying to change the definition back to one that it was hoping to promote. As of late Wednesday afternoon, the Wikipedia entry included a lengthy description that said the burger “has undergone several reformulations including resizing and bread changes.” It also noted that the Whopper is often “at the centre of advertising promotions, product tie-ins, and even corporate practical jokes and hoaxes.”

BUCKFAST MONKS ‘SHOULD BE STRIPPED OF CHARITY STATUS’…. English monks who produce Buckfast wine should be stripped of their charitable status, campaigners say. The tonic wine - linked to violent crime in Scotland - is made at Buckfast Abbey in Devon. Campaign group the National Secular Society say the alcoholic beverage is harmful and an “abuse of the charitable system.”The Buckfast Abbey Trust does not pay tax on its income as it is a charity and made a record £8.8million last year from sales.The drink has been made by the Benedictine monks of Buckfast Abbey in Devon since the 1920s when the Benedictine brothers developed tonic wine. In 2011, a new winery was completed at the abbey. In an interview with BBC News, its vice president Alistair McBay said: “The monks should be setting an example as a religious organisation but the opposite is happening.“The question needs to be asked ‘Are they serving God or Mamon?”

RUSSIA SAYS IT WON’T BROADCAST EUROVISION SONG CONTEST…. Russia’s Channel One says it will not broadcast the Eurovision Song Contest in Russia after Ukraine, which hosts the contest this year, has barred the Russian entrant from traveling to the country. Ukraine’s security services banned singer Yulia Samoylova from entering Ukraine because she had toured in Crimea after Russia’s 2014 annexation of the peninsula from Ukraine. State-owned Channel Once, which is responsible for broadcasting the intensely popular TV song contest in Russia, said in a statement today that it made the decision not to show the contest after it was told by the European Broadcasting Union that it had failed to settle the dispute with Ukraine. The EBU had suggested that Samoylova can perform live from Russia but Channel One on Thursday dismissed that idea.

LAST SURVIVING 1800´S BABY DIES….  A living link is severed. Emma Morano, the last known surviving person born in the 19th Century, died Saturday at age 117. When she was born in Italy’s Piedmont region on Nov. 29, 1899, Queen Victoria ruled Britain and the Wright Brothers were still flying kites. Living through two world wars — losing her sweetheart in the first — and 90 Italian governments, Morano endured an abusive marriage and the death of her only baby. She attributed her longevity to good genes, with several sisters passing 100, but also to eating three eggs (one cooked) a day. THE STOLEN SHIRT, THE FAN AND THE FAKE JOURNALIST  He still might get away with it. It seemed the perfect crime when Mexican tabloid editor Martín Mauricio Ortega sauntered out of the Patriots locker room following the greatest comeback in Super Bowl history, allegedly carrying a $500,000 souvenir. And it would have been, except months earlier he’d shown off another coveted No. 12 shirt — also purloined — to a Seattle collector. Tracking down Tom Brady’s most recent stolen jersey involved an international investigation that located the remarkable collection and returned the jerseys — leaving Ortega jobless, but as yet unprosecuted.

Well Gentle Reader I hope you enjoyed our look at the news from around the world this, Wednesday morning…

Our Tulips today are in the basket of my bike ready for me to bring round to you...

A Sincere Thank You for your company and Thank You for your likes and comments I love them and always try to reply, so please keep them coming, it's always good fun, As is my custom, I will go and get myself another mug of "Colombian" Coffee and wish you a safe Wednesday 19th April 2017 from my home on the southern coast of Spain, where the blue waters of the Alboran Sea washes the coast of Africa and Europe and the smell of the night blooming jasmine and Honeysuckle fills the air…and a crazy old guy and his dog Bella go out for a walk at 4:00 am…on the streets of Estepona…

All good stuff....But remember it’s a dangerous world we live in ….. Be safe out there…

Robert McAngus

[loverforficppl]

𝐦𝐩𝐡𝐟𝐩𝐜. incorrect quotes

enoch: Who the fuck broke one of my jars? y/n: It was jake. olive: It was jake. emma: jake broke it. jake: jake: ...yOU PROMISED-