#even with me scrolling past 90% of the fics

[eddiethebrave]

i try not to read whump, angst, or unhappy endings bc i’m fragile and that shit ends me

but

if i do accidentally read a sentence of a fic i simply HAVE to see it through and i cry every. single. time.

seriously, it can be only 300 words and i’m probably sobbing

with that being said, this angsty august shit is kicking my ass

[cult-of-husbandos]

yami ai [yandere] - Hot Yandere Singles Near You

synopsis: you click on a random pop-up ad and are visited by weird smiling man in suit.

genre: pure crack (like fr), fluff, tbh there's not really a plot

word count: 4.4k

warnings: implied stalking

Isn’t insomnia just the worst? Like, seriously? What’s the point of being a human being with antiquated thoughts and impressive cognitive and motor skills when your brain fights you on the most basic stuff. For example, like sleeping!!

You must’ve refreshed YouTube and Twitter over a thousand times. Over 8 billion people in the world and there’s no new content anywhere? You groaned and jumped back over onto Twitter, silently praying and pleading for something new to show up on your feed. Maybe a wacky billionaire got eaten by a mob of homeless people or maybe a news article about a Floridian doing something gross and outrageous and virtually impossible.

But nope. Nothing.

Not a single thing piqued your interest. You groaned again and looked at the time on your dimly lit phone. It was past 2 a.m. and you were bored out of your mind. You then lazily clicked on Google and sighed.

‘Maybe someone posted a new fanfic over something…’ you hoped. And even if there wasn’t a new fic uploaded you’ll just read the old ones you favorited. Perhaps reading something might put you to sleep.

As you were scrolling through your favorite ship tags, you were startled by a pop up ad covering up 90% of the screen and flashing emojis.

“Ugh… seriously?” you groaned. “They should make ad-blockers on phones for this shit.” You squinted at the bright lettering emanating from your phone even though it was at the lowest brightness setting.

⚠️(99+) Hot Yandere Singles NEAR YOU⚠️

Yandere’s…? Singles? Near me?

The pop-up ad had flashing peach, cherry, and eggplant emojis with a water splash emoji at the end to signify… well, you’re not sure what it was trying to signify. On the sides of the ad, it showed pictures of very gorgeous men and women, all striking suggestive poses. Underneath the title was a small summary that read. ‘These lonely desperate yanderes wanna meet you! They’ll most likely find you anyway, but wouldn’t you rather be the honey to a bee instead of a fly? Try it NOW for FREE!! No hookups! No catfishes! No sign ups!’ Then below that were a few empty boxes to fill out requiring your personal information.

"..."

Was this a porn ad?!

No way at 2:45 in the freaking morning did you just get a porn pop-up ad while googling mafia au fanfiction. This has to be some kind of joke. Maybe it was prank and someone was just fucking with you. And how and why would there be 99+ yanderes in your area?! You couldn’t be surrounded by that many psychos. Could you? Whatever the case may be, it was now past 2 a.m. and as the rule of life states ‘Nothing good happens after 2 a.m.’. You don’t know if it was the lack of sleep or just reckless curiosity, but you gave your shoulders a shrug and mumbled a ‘fuck it’ as you put in your information. Your name, number, gender, age, preferred sex, email, and mailing address. As you clicked submit and continued scrolling, you gave very little thought about how this would go down.

On one hand, the ad turns out to be real and you get a partner out of this. Or

You get quartered, stalked, doxxed, and murdered like the dumbass you are for putting your personal info into a sketchy porno-like pop-up on Google.

Or, it turns out to be a prank and some asshole sitting in a basement has a good laugh at you.

Meh. You’ll deal with it in the morning.

*****

You were jolted awake with the sound of rapid knocking coming from your front door. You groaned into your pillow as you tried to ignore the person desperately wanting your attention from outside your apartment. You finally got some sleep only for it to get interrupted. Only minutes and minutes of continued knocking without any signs of letting up, you decide to get up and shoo away whoever it was. You wearily grabbed your phone to check the time.

8:02 a.m.

You huffed as you stormed towards the front door.

“If this a fucking Jehova’s Witness, I swear to god…” you grumbled. You swung open the door and threw the person a harsh glare, only to be met with popping sounds as confetti flew in your face.

“Good morning, my dear darling~!! Are you ready to begin on the road to happiness and love?” the stranger shouted a far too happy tone for 8 in the morning.

You took a step back in shock, fully awake as you waved and dusted the confetti from your face and hair. You looked the strange man up and down. He was smiling ear to ear and wore an expensive looking suit to warm for the summer weather. A briefcase stood right beside him along with dozens of other party poppers and a white plastic bag filled with brown bottles with oddly enough no labels on them. You looked at the man’s face. He was surprisingly attractive and without a single flaw anywhere. His hair was jet black and shined a very prominent gloss. You were honestly kind of embarrassed to be seen by him when you looked like such a mess. The man let out a chuckle.

“Oh my.” he said, gently putting his hand over his mouth with vague concern. “I hope I didn’t startle you too much. I probably should’ve sent you an email notifying you of the time I was coming. I’m sorry that must’ve been a troubling awakening.”

You quirked your eyebrow and took another step back, grabbing onto the doorknob so that you could slam it right in his face if things got too weird.

“And… you are?”

“Oh my, oh my. Where are my manners? How careless of me to assume.” The man bowed with a curtsy. “I am the ‘Matchmaker’. My job is to pair two people with their fated soulmate and give each of my clients their happily ever after. It’s very nice to meet you, (Y/N) (L/N).”

You felt a chill crawl down your spine. How’d this weirdo know your name?! You tried to close the door as fast as you could, but the ‘Matchmaker’ was even faster. He clicked his tongue at you, his smile unchanging, but his eyes seemed to harden his gentle tone.

“My, how rude. Is that any way to treat a guest?” He let out another chuckle. “You’ll never find love that way.”

“H-How did you know my name?” you stuttered.

Again, another chuckle. What was so funny? “My dear~. You gave it to me.”

What the hell was he talking about? How could you have given this creep your name? Was he a stalker? A junkie? Noticing the confusion on your face, the man spoke up again.

“Oh my dear. Do you really not remember?” he asked, tilting his head in feign innocence. “You filled out an ad to meet singles in your area. And here I am, coming to fulfill that ad.”

You eased up on the tension you had on the door and tilted your head in surprised confusion. “That was a real ad?”

The man stood up tall and smiled earnestly again. “Of course. However, you are the first person to actually fill out that ad. Really, this is more of a celebration to both of us.”

Huh, so the pop-up ad was real.

Not a prank.

And now there’s a psycho standing at your front door promising you a partner from an actual yandere.

“I honestly thought it was a prank. I mean… yanderes? Isn’t that just an anime thing?”

“Oh, I assure you my darling.” he said with a snide smirk. “Yanderes are real. And when they heard about signing up, it was like tossing chicken in a sea of alligators. All clamoring to be the first person to take a bite.”

Okay, gross but kind of sweet.

“May I come in?”

“Huh?”

“Well, my dear. It would be easier to come in and talk through the process of how this goes instead of standing here.”

“Oh, um… Suuuree-”

“Great! My my darling~. What a lovely home. Very well decorated.” The man quickly strided into your house and made himself comfortable in your living room, looking as if he was analyzing every detail about your house.

Richard Chase would’ve loved your dumbass.

You shut the door and followed him into your own apartment and offered him a seat on your couch. Might as well, right? You’ve gone this far and you're still alive.

“Umm…” you hesitantly shifted from one foot to another. “Do you… um… want some coffee maybe? Or tea? Maybe a glass of water? If you haven;t eaten breakfast yet, I whip you up something.”

Yeah, sure. Feed the man with only a title for a name and waltzed right into your house after showing up after you put in your personal information into a random pop-up ad at 3 a.m. promising you a happy life with hot single yanderes in your area. You are the pinnacle of human genius. The apex of natural selection. The creme de la creme of common sense. Charles Darwin would be so impressed.

“How thoughtful. Just coffee would be fine. Thank you.”

After brewing a quick pot, you sat across from the man facing him heads on and gently slid him his steaming cup. After a while of taking little sips in weird silence, he spoke up again.

“Before we continue, I’d just like to say: Thank you so much for applying for this wonderful opportunity!! Not many people would click on an ad requiring doxxing information to meet their soulmates! Again, congrats on being our number one willing client!”

“Willing client?” you asked.

“Well, of course! For some reason, humans seem to really love the idea of a yandere until there’s one standing on their front porch!” he laughed.

“Humans? I’m sorry. Are you not human, Mr…?”

“Ah ah! No need for formalities! Just ‘The Matchmaker’ or simply ‘Matchmaker’.

“Oh, so… you don’t have a true name? Or is that just a title?”

“Oh darling~.” he sang sweetly. “That’s none of anyone’s fucking business, is it?”

Your eyes widened and let out a nervous chuckle. “Okay, got it! Just Matchmaker. Lovely name. Adore it. In fact, I love when strange mysterious men only give a title for a name.” What the hell does that even mean? You had no idea what you were saying anymore.

“Heh, smart cookie.” He winked. “Shall we begin?”

“Um, yeah, so… how does this work exactly?” you finally asked.

“Simple, my dear darling. Think of this as an ordinary matchmaking appointment. I have a stack of potential soulmates all ready to meet you. I have the same information about them that I also have of you. Each potential soulmate also has a picture so if you don’t really feel up to meeting face-to-face just yet you can look over the picture and see who captures your heart.”

“Face-to-face? So these guys have my picture too?” “Of course! And might I say, those pictures don’t do you justice. In all my years in this business, I’ve never seen such an obsession and overload of potential soulmates for just one person.”

You lightly blushed. “I-I don’t know about that… I barely got any sleep last night so I probably look like a zombie right now…”

“Au contraire, Darling. You look absolutely stunning. If I weren’t such a professional I would burn all these forms and claim you as my one and only~.”

You felt your entire face flush red as the Matchmaker pierced your soul with his longing gaze. It felt like he was staring into your very essence – like he could read you like a book. You nervously cleared your throat and shifted your eyes away, hoping to bring down your blush.

“S-So! Um… should we get started?” you stuttered, internally kicking yourself for being so easily flustered by a couple of smooth words. Ted Bundy would’ve had a field day with your dumbass.

“Ready whenever you are, my dear.” The Matchmaker set his briefcase on your coffee table and pulled out a single form and slid it over towards you. “Let’s start off with an easy one.”

You looked at the form along with the picture of a very attractive man paperclipped to the paper. According to the form, his name is Hamazawa Akita. He was in his early 20’s, had a varying array of hobbies from hiking to scuba diving, and was very much in love with you.

“Well, what do you think?”

“Hm, well, he’s very cute. And very active.”

“Would you like to meet him?”

“Um, sure… is there a number I could call or…?”

“No need! We can bring him in right now.” The Matchmaker snapped his fingers and you whipped your head towards the front door where Akita strolled in, all smiles. You looked back over the Matchmaker. “Did I not lock my door? Wait. More importantly, how’d he get here?!”

The Matchmaker smiled. “My dear, when you’re in this business you pick up a few tricks.” He then turned his attention towards Akita who now stood in the middle of the living room. “No. 1 would you like to introduce yourself?”

Akita stood tall and his eyes seemed to beam directly at you. “My name is Hamazawa Akita. Ever since I saw your picture I’ve dreamed about sweeping you off your feet and claiming you all to myself!”

“So, like 8 hours ago?”

“Yes!! But those hours feel like years when being away from you.”

“Hmm.”

“So, what do you think? Are you feeling the butterflies?”

You looked up Akita up and down and your face twisted as if you’re deciding on whether or not to buy a car or a piece of clothing.

“Um, to be honest my guy. I’m not feeling it.”

“Huh?”

“Excuse me, my darling?”

“Weeeelllll…. I mean, don’t get me wrong! You’re very attractive and your words are sweet, but I don’t think I believe any of it. Like, you just admitted to wanting me all to yourself only 8 hours ago, but I don’t really feel anything. Not even a shiver.”

The Matchmaker and Akita both looked at each other like they weren’t really expecting that. With a quick wave of his hand, Akita slumped his shoulders and headed towards your front door. You shouted out an apology as the dejected suitor walked out.

“Well, I didn’t expect that. I don’t normally get such competent clients. At least those that get past kicking and screaming.” The Matchmaker grinned. You shrugged.

“I guess I just know what I like. All the anime I’ve watched kind of gives you that high standard of what makes a yandere a real yandere, y’know?”

He nodded. “I cannot agree more. Well, we have plenty more where that came from. Shall we continue?”

*****

Papers were strewn across your coffee table in an unorganized fashion as both you and your estranged guest were tired beyond belief. You had no idea how many hours had passed nor how many guests were in and out of your apartment. You’re honestly surprised none of your neighbors complained or called the police. Your apartment would’ve looked like a clown car if anyone had been watching from the outside. You honestly lost count after No. 256. You let out another yawn and laid on your side trying your best to keep your eyes open. Maybe 2 hours of sleep wasn’t enough for the multiple interviews you had to conduct today. Maybe your 9th grade biology teacher was right. Maybe you are going to die alone. A weary sigh brought you from your thoughts.

“My, my. You are definitely the most high standard client I’ve ever had. I didn’t think we’d get to the triple digits in just one day.”

You also sighed and sat up in your seat. “I know. I’m sorry. It’s just… All these guys are cute and all, but they’re all lacking something. They’re either too forceful or not forceful enough. Too wimpy or too strong. Or too obsessed or just incredibly so lovesick that I feel like they’d fall in love with just about anyone who’d be willing. Ugh, why can’t this be simpler like adopting an animal?” You groaned. You also hadn’t thought this would take this long. You didn’t really think of yourself as having high standards until today. Until today, you’d be happy with anyone close to you in age and with a heartbeat. Who knew picking out a yandere soulmate would be so challenging. And who knew that there’d be so many willing participants! The Matchmaker reached into his briefcase and pulled another stack of forms and slid them over to you. There must be at least over a hundred papers in front of you. How did he have so many?!

“How about we switch things up, hm? You’ll look over the papers and when you see someone that catches your eye, I’ll bring him in.” He made it sound like you were adopting a dog or a cat. But if this made it go any faster, you were willing to try.

After about 3 more stacks of papers, you were starting to lose hope and patience. When you got to the last few papers, you stopped dead in your tracks. Woah baby!

“Woah baby!” you exclaimed.

“Did you find someone you like?” The Matchmaker asked hopefully.

“Oh yeah. This guy.” You showed him the paper. He furrowed his brows a little.

“Are you sure? I don’t think I remember this man. His name and face don’t seem familiar.”

“Really? Maybe he’s a late entry or something?”

Matchmaker stroked his chin in thought. “I’ll go check it out. Be right back, dear. I’m very sorry for this inconvenience.”

You waved off his apology with a smile and he left your apartment. You then leaned back with a groan. You just wanted to find your ‘soulmate’ or whatever and move on with this day. You closed your eyes for a second and waited patiently for Matchmaker to come back.

Tap tap tap

Just like deja vu, you were awoken by rapid knocking. Except this time it wasn’t coming from your front door.

Tap tap tap tap

It sounds like it’s coming from… your window?

Tap tap tap tap tap tap tap

You quickly got up and walked towards your window and opened it.

“Woah!” You jumped back a little as you were met face to face with the man that you had picked out and that the Matchmaker went to go find.

‘Wow… he’s even cuter in person!!’

He let out a delicious chuckle and gave you a charming smile.

“I didn’t mean to scare you, darling~. Hehe, though I think that fear in your eyes was worth it. So adorable~.” For the second time today, a complete weirdo stranger has made you blush. Wait…

“Wait! I don’t have a balcony and I’m on the third floor. How’d you-?” You peeked over the window to see if he was pulling a Criss Angel.

“I have incredible grip strength~.” he winked.

“Oooh I’m sure~.” you swooned. For a weirdo, he was a smooth talking weirdo.

“Oh, I got these for you, sweetheart~.” He pulled himself up and sat on your windowsill and pulled out a bouquet of roughly cut flowers from behind him. You gasped and grabbed them, giving them a smell.

“These are my favorite!! How did you know? I don’t think that was one of the pieces of info required for the Matchmaker.” you asked.

The stranger chuckled. “Easy. I never filled out that stupid application.”

You looked up from your flowers and titled your head like a confused puppy.

“I already know everything about you. I don’t need a stupid piece of paper to tell me what I already know about you. Like, how I know that you have secret sweets hidden all throughout your room. Or that whenever you have a good day you love to sing Stray Kids.”

He inched closer to you as you backed up further into the room.

“You won’t eat frozen pizza, but every so often you eat a lobster roll from a food truck from Gary on Main St.. You have life destroying evidence of your boss that you’re planning on using on your last day. You’ve seen the Barbie movie 5 times. And…”

You felt your legs hit the couch and tried to keep yourself from falling onto your back like a defenseless turtle.

“Your favorite anime is… Dar-” You quickly covered the stranger’s mouth with a furious blush.

“I only watch it ironically!! I don’t love it! It’s not my favorite!” you quickly clarified. The gravity of the situation was made perfectly clear after that. This man really knew all about you. Honestly, you’re so loud that you’re pretty sure that people on the ground outside could hear you singing. And you don’t really pay attention to your surroundings so it's easy for someone to know that you eat from a food truck every other week at specific times. But, knowing your favorite secretly watched anime?

“W-Who… are you?” you stuttered. You’re pretty sure you already knew the answer.

He laughed and you felt his lips brush against your fingers. You blushed and tried to pull back, only to be stopped by his hands.

“Sweetie~. You already know who I am.” He grabbed the paper from the stack and put it next to his face. “See? I’m Yami Ai. Your soulmate.”

Before you could even process what was happening, you were gently pushed onto the couch with Yami hovering over you holding your hands beside your head. You couldn’t stop the blush erupting from your neck to your face. Your heart was beating way too fast and your stomach felt jumpy and queasy. Butterflies.

You cleared your throat. “Um… so, if you didn’t fill out a form then how come The Matchmaker had your profile and picture? And why didn’t you use the front door?”

Yami smirked and leaned in closer. “It’s pretty simple to pull off when your apartment does security checks on new guests entering the building.”

“But, my apartment doesn’t–” you stopped. “Ooooh… So you impersonated a security guard, slipped your profile and info into his briefcase, and were planning on showing up as one of the potential singles? That’s… convoluted. But, smart.” You shrugged. “And since you obviously knew which floor I was on and which window was mine, I assume you’ve been watching me for a while and were watching me last night when I couldn’t sleep?”

Yami laughed again. “You are so smart~. You really catch on quickly, don’t you?”

You shrugged again with a nervous smile. “W-Well, obviously not smart enough to not put in my personal info and have strange men come in and out of my apartment.”

Yami was quick to turn his gentle smile into a hard, harsh frown. His grip on your wrists grew tighter and you winced under the force he placed in you.

“You know, my darling. It’s partially my fault. If I hadn’t backed out and taken you that night, you’d never be in this situation. With those men eyeing you up and down like you were theirs. Having that smiling freak calling you ‘dear’ and ‘darling’ when only I can call you that. I was planning on getting rid of the competition, but you did that for me.”

Yami loosened his grip and lifted you up, staring into your eyes. You blushed again.

“Rejection after rejection. Some guys didn’t even get 2 words out before you turned away. Of course my darling would only want the most perfect man. Isn’t that right, darling~?”

“Hehehe~” you leaned in with a giggle. “You’re so sweet~.”

You are such a baby for flattery.

*****

“My dear darling, I’m so very sorry for the inconvenience. I didn’t mean to be gone for so long, but I could not find this person you–” Matchmaker explained, rushing in and stopping dead in his tracks when he saw both you and Yami, the man who left 30 minutes ago to go find, eating breakfast in the living room.

Sitting in his lap.

And feeding each other.

“Oh! Matchmaker!” you exclaimed, quickly swallowing your food. You didn’t notice Yami tightening his grip on your waist nor did you notice the cold glare and tense atmosphere enveloping the room. “Look who I found~.”

“I see…” he said hesitantly.

“He climbed up the building and came in through the window.”

“My~. How romantic~.” he sang. “So, I take it that you are satisfied with your soulmate? Or… do you wish to continue searching?” he asked teasingly. Before Yami could say anything, you quickly spoke again.

“Yep! I’m sure.” You ruffled Yami’s hair and nuzzled up against him. “I wouldn’t trade him for anyone else.” Yami hugged you closer to his chest as you giggled. “Plus, he makes the most amazing breakfast in the world, so extra points!” you cheered. You reached out towards the Matchmaker’s briefcase.

“Here you go! I put all the papers back in for you.”

Matchmaker quickly walked over and grabbed his briefcase along with your hand. “Well, my dear. It’s been an honor. You are truly the most remarkable and memorable client I have ever had.” he said with a bow and made his way towards the door. However, before leaving he chuckled and looked back at the both of you. “Although, it’s a shame,” he sighed. “Maybe if I had stayed, I would’ve snatched you up myself.”

And with a final loud laugh, The Matchmaker disappeared, but not before Yami stood up to lounge and attack the fleeting man like a guard dog. You snorted and caressed his face to calm him down. “Relax, Yami. He’s just joking.”

“Well, I hated his joke. Fuckin’ freak…” he grumbled. “And it’s Ai. You’re mine now. You should get used to calling each other by our first names.”

You smiled and leaned against him. “Okay, Ai. Whatever you say.”

“And if a man comes to the door, never EVER answer it, got it!”

“Mhm.”

“I’m serious, darling. I’ll gouge their eyes out right in front of you.”

“Yes sir.”

The rest of your life was going to be very interesting. Suck it, Ms. Braxton. I guess you’re the one dying alone. Because you have a yandere boyfriend! And she has gonorrhea. Bitch.

---

a/n: this is so shit. i'm so sorry that i've been MIA for a while. work has been pretty crazy and i haven't really felt much motivated to write. however, i'm trying to get back into it now. with this goofy shit. kind of a joke piece, but i needed to write something silly and not serious at all to relax. (also i've been writing since 4 a.m., so...) anyways, i'm going to try and update regulary or at least post something.

Here's my YouTube. I make anime playlists.

[orbitariums]

christopher moltisanti x black! reader (snippet) as promised literally LAST YEAR... i know my people are still waiting on it i'm so sorry for leaving yall hanging, gays can u ever forgive me?

this is a SNIPPET of the shit i literally started last week... there's room for improvement and hopefully this will force me to finish this. also if any of y'all are also into challengers, i've got some patrick zweig and art donaldson (x black reader) fic posted and more incoming ehehehe.

anyway. set in like s3/s4, when christopher was working in an office (completely blanking on when that actually was but you'll have to forgive me i literally started this last summer (and still haven't finished the sopranos because i am notoriously slow at finishing tv shows))

cappuccino w/ extra cream | christopher moltisanti x black!reader

contains: smut, mentions of racial tension, christopher is NOT an abusive racist in this sopranosverse <3

You and Christopher Moltisanti were not a predictable match. It was only by chance that you met, while he was ordering lunch at the bodega you worked at after he had scored a hit in your neighborhood. He knew better than to come back, especially just for you, but he did. Over and over he came in, ordering a turkey and cheese on a roll with extra relish, shoving an inappropriately large tip in the tip jar just for you— just enough times until you caved in and let him take you out to dinner.

Of course, your family had a fit, and you didn’t even want to think about what Christopher went through with his crew when it came time to finally tell them about his forbidden love life. But all of the ruckus had died down, and now between the two of your crews was this unspoken, stifled agreement that they would let this union exist in peace. It was the 90s for god’s sake, and Christopher was a stubborn mule. 

Once he knew what he wanted, there was no backing down, even if it made him look like an idiot to those whom he served. And by god, did he want you. He was obsessed with you. Always wining and dining you, showing you off without shame. Of course, you two had been through your ups and downs, but Christopher treated you right. You were probably the first woman he’d treated right, the first he cared for unconditionally. No pains in sight except those he took to spoil you and cherish you beyond the diamonds and Versace pumps he gifted you. Even Paulie could respect it, along with the rest. It’s partially why they left it alone, and even smiled and shook your hand when you showed up on his arm. He thought about you every waking moment, he was positively lovestruck. 

It was a slow day at the office. Already Christopher had to reprimand Thing One and Thing Two for trying to intimidate the new guy. He was secluded now in his office, scrolling aimlessly on his chunky desktop computer when he heard a knock at the door.

“Who is it?”

“It’s me, baby!” came your voice, tinkling like bells in his ear and positively soaring through the room from the other side of the door. 

Christopher stood up, standing straight as if he’d just downed a shot of espresso, and he had to physically resist flinging himself at the door for the sake of the guys outside who were watching him. He opened it, first looking past you and glaring at the guys who had frozen on their phones and computers, gaping at the sight of you being let into Christopher’s office. Like they’d never seen anybody before. 

“What are you jerkoffs looking at?” Christopher barked. “Get back to work!”

Immediately resumed the punching sounds of typing and the drawls of the sleazy salesmen on the phone with their poor customers. As if it were nothing, Christopher retreated back, facing you with a broad, charming smile.

“YN, baby… what are you doin’ here?” he asked, that dopey lover boy tinkle sneaking into his voice, which always did anytime he talked to you. He sounded like a completely different person— like the Chris he might have been if he weren’t born into the family he was born into. He took your arms into his hands, caressing them gently, softly smiling. “Here, come in.”

He opened the door wide enough for you to come in, glared at everyone once again when you walked past, and then closed it, clicking the door locked. Not that anyone would try to come in unannounced anyway.   

“Wanted to see you, that’s all,” you smiled, plush lips pressed against one another. “Got off work early, got you a capp and chocolate biscotti. Extra creamy, just how you like it.”

You sat down at the chair opposite his desk, setting down two coffee cups and a crinkly paper bag. Christopher felt like he was dreaming. His discontent seemed to fade away now that you were here— bright colors replaced the dull dram palette of his lonely office and he only had eyes for you. The smell of creamy espresso wafted towards him, mingling with the praline swirls of perfume that glided off of your pressure points. He was in Heaven— he was sure of it. All of his senses were overwhelmed by beauty when he was around you. 

“My girl. Always so sweet,” Christopher picked up a cup and sat down in his desk chair across from you. He pried open the lid and took a deep sniff, all the while maintaining the most tantalizing eye contact with you, both of you staring at each other with smirking smiles painted on your lips. 

“Go on, drink it,” you prompted him, unable to hide the smile from your voice. 

“What, I can’t look at you instead?” Christopher crooned back. “C’mere. Come, sit on my lap. Sitting across from me, what are you, a client?”

You shook your head, laughing at Christopher’s incessant demands to always be close to you, always be looking at you. He was always touchy-feely and lovey-dovey. His affinity for physical touch lurked not so far beyond the cold mobster exterior. You got up anyway, slinked over to him, and sat. One leg crossed over the other, the skin of one thigh sinking into the other. He wrapped his arms around you and nuzzled his chin into your shoulder, gazing up at you. 

“Your hair looks nice,” Christopher commented, gently grabbing a handful of your fresh auburn-colored braids and stroking his hand through the gaps.

“Oh, thank you,” you snaked a hand through your hair, tilting your head so you could see Christopher better. 

“You go to that salon? Put it on my card?”

“Of course, baby. Thank you,” you smiled coyly, kissing his cheek with a loud smack.

“You just tell me anytime you need to get your hair done. With you, it’s every two weeks, but I can’t complain.”

You snickered,

“Yeah, until I make you sit there and wait for me for six hours to get some braids.”

“I dunno how you do it. You’ve got patience like nobody else,” Christopher replied, pushing some of your braids to the other side.

“We have patience like no other.”

Christopher looked down at your skirt— a tight pencil skirt that matched the brown hues of your skin and hugged your curves nicely. You matched it with a blazer and a white blouse. You looked so sexy and professional, and elegant.

“And this skirt,” Christopher continued, layering on the compliments with a renewed curiosity, the kind of curiosity that wanted to know what was under the skirt. His hands, rough and large, found their way onto your lap and your thigh. His hands, marred and toughened from his profession, felt nothing like your buttery smooth skin, but still, you found yourself melting into his touch. Your wispy lashes brushed against your cheek as your eyes fluttered slightly closed. 

“Burberry. You like it?” you bit down on your lip, giving him doe eyes as you craned your neck to coo at him. 

A deep smirk set on Christopher’s lips and his thick brows rose slightly. His hands left your body for only a moment to raise up in the air as if considering the question, then they were right back where they belonged, 

“Do I like it? I wanna fuck you with it on.”

Your mouth dropped.

“Christopher!” you enunciated each syllable, glaring back at him with twinkling, faux scandalized wide eyes. 

“What? I can’t be honest anymore?” Christopher asked, his words beginning to sound muffled as he pressed his lips against your neck ever-so-gently, but enough so that you could feel it. “I’m Catholic. Lying is a sin.”

“What’re you doing, Chris?” you scoffed, rolling your eyes amusedly. You wouldn’t keep up this facade for long, but he would play along and break down your walls. 

“You smell so fucking good,” Christopher practically inhaled your scent, his big nose pressed against the nape of your neck. “You got more of this stuff?”

You frowned slightly, remembering that you were savoring the last of it,

“I’m almost out.”

“I’ll get you more,” Christopher replied immediately. “Make that your signature scent.”

You chuckled at Christopher’s insistence, his matter-of-fact way of speaking about certain things. Not controlling, but honest about what he wanted. 

“Okay, I will,” you grinned. 

Christopher pushed away your braids so that one side of your neck was completely bare for him to continue peppering kisses upon. It was clear to you that he wanted more than just this, as sweet as it was. And you wanted it too, but not without teasing him first. 

“I want you right now,” Christopher said, a certain desperation tinged in his voice that only you could provoke. He knew he’d have you, and could have you… but still, every time, he seemed to rescind into this character of the enthralled lover boy who didn’t quite have the girl. Like he was still ordering sandwiches from the other side of the counter and telling you to keep the change. 

“Christopher! You’re at work. What if someone hears?”

Christopher snorted through his nose, 

“I don’t give a fuck. ‘Sides, only thing those jerkoffs can hear is the sound of their own 

mouth-breathing.”

You giggled, but half-heartedly, trying to catch your breath. Christopher wasn’t the only one who was defenseless in this relationship. You wouldn’t be able to guess it right away, but he had you wrapped around his finger too, right along with his Cuban ring. Everything he did positively enraptured you, even if it made him dangerous. But when you were with him, everything was swathed in the softest fabrics, and the air smelled of fresh linen and fields of flowers. None of the blood and tears that his work consisted of. 

You crumpled under his touch, easily. He knew you, mind, soul, and more presently, body. The room was silent, bar for the slightest sounds of lips against your neck and fabric swishing against itself as he eased his hand further up your thigh, pushing underneath your skirt. By now his kisses against your neck had you tilting your head back in pleasure, your lips slightly parted. You could feel the outline of his cock against your ass and wanted nothing more than to get closer. Each time you saw each other it was like you hadn’t seen each other in years, would never see each other again. The passion never dissipated. 

His hand crept further and further until it reached the side of your panties, lifting the elastic band and then letting it slap against your skin. His kisses against your neck grew deeper and traveled up to your chin, his other hand wrapped around your waist tightly. You gasped slightly at Chris’ suggestive touch.

“Christopher…” you whispered, your voice reduced to a weak shiver, lids becoming heavy. 

“What?” he responded, his breath heavy. 

“Please, I need you to touch me.”

“Where?” Christopher asked, fighting the smile that was pulling at his lips. 

“Here!” you exclaimed with desperation, grabbing his hand and pressing it against the center of your panties where there was a wet mark. 

“Oh, there,” Christopher replied, fingers pressing into you over the delicate fabric. 

“Yes, please,” you whimpered, your whole body beginning to tense up as if preparing for sweet impact. 

You were relieved when you felt him push your panties to the side and you could finally feel his fingers against your flesh, prodding at your folds as if collecting your wetness along his fingertips. 

“You’re always so wet,” he shuddered, wasting no time and pushing a thick finger into your hole, making you nearly jump out of your seat on his lap. Instead, though, you simply arched your hips up against his finger, letting out a deep exhale. “And so warm.”

“Oh!” you yelped out in pleasant shock when Christopher added another finger, fully stretching you out now and sending a buzzing vibration up your spine. 

“Thought you didn’t want anybody to hear us?” Christopher taunted you, lips hot against your ear. 

“Ugh,” you moaned, rolling your eyes. “Just—please.”

“Please what?” Christopher asked, all while quickening the pace of his fingers inside you, switching from slow, scissoring motions to a fast slam that caused you to collapse against his chest, your legs pried open. Christopher moaned to himself at the feeling of your wet slick against his fingers, the way he could feel you getting wetter as he pushed his fingers in and out of your hot entrance. 

“Please fuck me,” you whined, your voice taking on an entirely new high pitch as you jolted into the pleasure and the change of pace. 

“‘M gonna fuck you, don’t you worry your pretty little head,” Christopher kept pushing his learned fingers into you, hitting your g-spot with ease. “Gonna make you take my cock.”

“M-mhm,” you gasped out. Chris wanted to see this through, but the way he was straining against his pants was killing him. It was painful not to be able to be inside of you. 

“Fuck, I’m taking this off,” he announced, and you both fumbled together to unzip your skirt and toss it onto the floor. His pants and boxers came next, along with your panties. All thrown carelessly around the room. Then he lifted you and turned you around so you were facing him, straddling him on his desk chair. You were already desperately grinding against the base of his cock, your arousal trailing up his shaft. 

“You’re such a fucking slut,” Christopher’s voice seemed to grind into a growl as he watched you roll your hips desperately against his cock. 

“Please,” you pouted, his words passing through you like a gust of wind— you hardly registered them. You were too busy grabbing at his cock and trying to 

“Why’d you really come here, huh? To get fucked?”

You hated and loved how easy it was for him to turn you into putty. 

more soon i promithhh <3 keep me on my toes yall

[danger-xylophones]

I loved the Thrawn x sentator fic 💕 and the end was so funny! Would you write a follow up about Thrawn having to watch the Govener trying to put the moves on Reader? (Happy ending in which Thrawn and Reader spending the night together after?)

(only if you feel like it)

warnings: reader described as having breasts, a little spicy towards the end

masterlist | chiss

"Governor Rakton wishes to speak to you." Candiyce's nervous stutter was enough to make you open your eyes and pull away from Thrawn just enough to look at the intercom on your desk with an irate frown. 

You reached out a manicured hand to snap back, “tell him I’m busy.” before retreating your hand to curl back into Thrawn’s embrace. He accepted your closeness with a low huff of a laugh and a hand cradling the back of your head to his chest. 

“Senator, I tried to but he just stormed past. He’s on his way up now.” Candiyce’s voice was panicked and enough to make you extract yourself from Thrawn’s hold fully to try and soothe the younger woman. With the nautolan reassured that it wasn’t at all her fault that Rakton was little more than a pompous jerk, you gave her the rest of the day off and turned to Thrawn who had waited silently. 

With an explosive sigh, you took your head in hand between your index finger and thumb.

“Governor Rakton?” Thrawn’s voice was even, curious.

Pursing your lips, you stalled answering by making your way around the desk to collect your abandoned datapad. Thrawn followed you to lean over the front of the desk.

“Ch’acah, how do you know Governor Rakton?” He pressed further.

“He’s the Governor of the Anthiss system. I’m working with him on negotiating new trade routes to avoid the rebel cells that have popped up. He’s not pleasant.” You huffed, fingers scrolling through the files and correspondences you’d ignored in favor of being in Thrawn’s arm. 

“So I gathered...but there is more that you aren’t telling me.” He hummed. One of his hands came up to gently snag your chin between his thumb and index finger. Slowly, he brought your face up towards him. “He...discomforts you?” His face was stern - brow furrowed and eyes partially squinted as he analyzed you. You frowned, opened the latest message from Rakton, and passed the datapad to him to let him see for himself.

He released you in favor of taking the device. With one raised skeptic eyebrow, he began to comb through your last words with Rakton but before he could finish and ask you any further questions, the door to your office dinged and slid open. 

Lo and behold - there stood Governor Rakton. 

You peered around Thrawn who had also looked up from your datapad to regard Rakton with an unreadable expression on his face. 

Rakton stared at Thrawn, his pale white face even more pallid than usual as his milky grey eyes flicked over the Chiss’s imposing presence before darting to you in sudden apprehension. He broke out into an uneasy smile, unbecoming of a man so high ranking in the political world. But you weren’t surprised - you were 90% certain he had bought his way to the top. 

“Senator,” he greeted you, eyes still darting to Thrawn who continued to watch him unflinchingly, ���I wasn’t aware you had a guest.” 

“Yes,” you began, rounding the desk and coming to Thrawn’s side, “Governor Rakton, this is Grand Admiral -”

“Thrawn.” Thrawn interrupted you, stepping forward to almost poke Rakton in the chest with a hand disguised in greeting. “A pleasure to meet you in person, Governor.” 

Rakton blinked in surprise, face slack in shock and fear, and inadvertently ignored the offered hand. “You...you’ve heard of me?” 

“Indeed I have.” Thrawn hummed in that ever calm voice of his as he retracted his hand. Methodically, he began to pace towards the couch in the middle of your office, never taking his eyes off of Rakton, even as he passed your datapad back to you. “Your exploits have been what I believe is called a hot topic aboard my ship as of late.”  

“Your ship?” Rakton huffed in a mocking tone that involuntarily made you grind your teeth. 

“The Chimaera.” Thrawn didn’t miss a beat in replying in his cool voice, not rising to the challenge presented in Rakton’s unprofessional tone.

“Right, well...” Rakton huffed, eyeing Thrawn with blatant contempt now that his initial shock had faded. “Do you mind leaving? I have some important business to discuss with the senator.” 

Thrawn opened his mouth.

“Have a seat, Grand Admiral.” You commanded, voice taking on a stern quality you normally only used with your fellow politicians. He shut his mouth with a surprised look. “With all due respect, Governor,” You began, turning on your heels to face the other man head on who looked completely miffed. “The Grand Admiral and I were already in a meeting discussing the growing rebel threat in Anthiss when you arrived. He is already aware of most of the specifics. And I trust his judgement above most others. Unless you'd like to schedule an official meeting, anything you would say to me may be said in front of him.”

An ugly sneer crossed Rakton’s face and it wasn’t entirely clear what it was directed at - you, Thrawn, or the very situation. You found you didn’t care which one it was.

“Fine.” Rakton spat out with a final glare towards the Chiss who met his gaze with a passive stare. 

Rakton sighed, swept a hand over his straw yellow hair, and turned to you with a sickly sweet smile that could have been mistaken for a charming smirk if you were drunk. “But before that, my dear senator,” he began, stepping closer to you, “Ill admit that I would have preferred to do this privately,” he spared a glance at Thrawn, “but no matter  - I know that in the past we have interacted seldom outside of work but I find myself,” he took another step forward which brought him too far into your personal space. You took a step back. “deeply attracted to you.” you took a step back, he took a step forward. Panic began to coalesce in the pit of your stomach and you chanced a glance at Thrawn. He was still seated but one of his hands was gripping the back of the couch like a vice. And he was watching both of you very carefully, as if waiting for a moment he should jump in. “You’re incredibly bold and not to mention beauti-"

Snapping your gaze back to Rakton, you held up a hand. "I've heard quite enough, Governor." He stuttered to a stop as your voice rang out clear as a bell but as thunderous as the roar of an engine. "Frankly I'm disgusted by your not only lack of professionalism but the fact that you are so presumptuous in your own feelings that you think you should interrupt my work with them. You have made no attempts to see me outside of work in an area where we are both equals. And you have frequently ignored my clear dismissals showing me you don't care that you make me uncomfortable." Leveling him once again with an intense glare you broadened your stance. "I have heard enough about your feelings and want you to understand implicitly, there is no place for them here. Now, if you want to discuss actual topics, kindly schedule a meeting with my secretary and mind your time."

You didn't wait for him to leave. Turning sharply on your heel, you gestured the governor toward the door before crossing to Thrawn and sitting across from him.

A long pause followed where Rakton refused to move. Either from shock or indignation you weren't sure, nor did you care. You just wanted him to leave.

Finally, his footsteps retreated and there was the telltale sign of your door opening and closing again. And once more, you were alone with Thrawn.

"Stars, I hate him." You grumbled, folding into the back of the plush couch. Thrawn didn't reply but a moment later there was pressure on the cushion beside you and you were being gathered into a strong and warm embrace. You buried into him, tucking your head into the juncture between his neck and shoulder. "I'm sorry you had to see that, love."

"Why are you sorry? You handled his advances beautifully." Thrawn's velveteen voice was like a purr in your ear as he pressed a kiss to your head. "I'm proud of you."

"Proud?" You lifted your head off of him to meet his eyes.

"Indeed," he placed his hand under your chin, "You didn't reveal our relationship to him," his thumb stroked your bottom lip tentatively, "and you told him off in a way that was both professional and direct." His gaze zeroed in on your lips. "Why would I not be proud?"

Without waiting for a reply, he bowed his head and sealed his lips over yours in a fiery kiss that made your blood warm. Slowly, Thrawn guided you down to lay across the couch till he could lie over you, his hips between your legs while his lips chased after yours again and again. His hands went to the fasteners of your blouse, unbuttoning each till the flimsy garment fell away from your torso and exposed your skin to him and his inquisitive touch.

While his fingers delicately carved a path over your sides and stomach, your own were busy entangling in his hair, mussing the blue-black strands till they stood at odd angles. You held him gently while you both fell victim to gentle passion.

One of Thrawn's hands found your breast and he gave the pliant flesh a soft squeeze. You hummed low in your throat and with a final kiss, cupped Thrawn's chin in your hands to push him away. "If we start now we're not going to have time to go that art museum." You warned, your eyes half-lidded and mind already foggy with building arousal.

"That's alright, ch'acah." Thrawn soothed, tracing his fingers up to graze his knuckles down the side of your face. "There will be time tomorrow."

[queen-of-boops]

"Doctor Lucas"

Alright friends, it's time to talk about my biggest LITG pet peeve. It happens all the time, I'm reading a Lucas villa fic or scrolling through Tumblr and I see it: "doctor Lucas". My brain immediately checks out, alarm bells blaring.

I want to be clear here, I'm not policing headcannons or what you can or can't do in fic, especially AUs, the entire point of AUs is to mix things up like careers or backgrounds, etc.

What I am saying, is that canonically, Lucas is a physiotherapist.

For some reason, of all the physios we have (Summer and Jack), Lucas is the only one that's often referred to as a doctor. Maybe it's because he works in a hospital, or maybe somewhere along the line fanon warped him into something else. But as an acute care PT, nothing will make me click out of a post/canon compliant fic/etc faster than "doctor Lucas" or having him do something wildly out of scope.

For one thing, the US is the only country that requires a doctorate for physical therapy. That being said, I can count on one hand the number of times someone even knows I have a doctorate, and I have never been called Doctor outside of the academic setting.

So what does a hospital physio do?

Preserve mobility: let's be real, sick people don't want to move, but lying in bed all day makes you lose strength and range of motion fast

Transfers: how do you get to a chair now that you suddenly don't have left leg anymore? How can I make moving less painful for you following major abdominal surgery? How do you move when you have new precautions and can't bend your hip past 90 degrees?

Gait: Do you need a walker now? A cane? Do you have weight bearing restrictions and need to figure out how to walk with them? Is your gait pattern unsafe?

Stairs: Are there stairs at your house? How can I make them safer for you and the person who's going to be helping you? What techniques can I teach you to help decrease pain and increase safety?

Balance: 99% of people in the hospital are at an increased risk for falls, how can I decrease that? What can I do to improve your balance?

Discharge recs: Where is the patient going after the hospital? Are they safe to go home or do they need rehab? Do they need any equipment to be safe at home? 90% of the time, the rehab department is the one making those calls.

Communicate mobility needs to staff and family: Most of the time, I'm the first one getting someone up. Do they need 2 people to sit on the edge of the bed? Does their right knee buckle when they walk? This is important information that the people taking care of the patient needs to know for everyone's safety.

We see patients post stroke, waiting on transplants, post surgery, after getting the transplant, chronically ill, etc. Patients on vents, with lines and tubes and drains all over the place, even with open surgical sites... they're all appropriate for therapy.

What physiotherapists definitely don't do:

Perform surgery or scrub up or observe or do anything even near the OR.

Give or adjust medications. I'm expected to know what medications do and look out for associated symptoms, but the most I can do is message the doctor and tell them what I'm observing.

Work with a crashing patient. It happens, you're in the middle of a session and a patient codes. Call the code and start performing CPR. But as soon as anyone else arrives, the therapist is the least qualified and least important person in the room. And if a therapist hears a code called, they're getting the hell out of the way to make space for the appropriate team to arrive.

Call time of death. Yes, patients die. Unfortunately, that's just how it goes. And yes, sometimes you come in to work only to learn that the patient you were working with yesterday passed away. But most of the time, if a patient is that close to dying, they're not appropriate for therapy. They're not dying in the therapist's arms or anything like that.

Use physical therapy as a stepping stone to become a doctor. There's not a ton of overlap tbh. I'm sure it has happened, but it's not like a PT degree is a degree that gets you into med school.

Listen, I LOVE my job. I get peed on, puked on, pooped on, etc. There are rude patients and emotional days and difficult conversations that need to be had, but at the end of the day I'm proud of being able to help people in need. You don't get into physical therapy if you don't love it. The pay isn't all that great and sometimes it's a very thankless job. Burn out rates are high, especially in the hospital setting. But those who stick it out are those who can't imagine doing anything else.

You have no idea how happy I was to see a character with my job who actually responds well to questions about it, so you can imagine how frustrating it is to constantly see my profession being overlooked or misinterpreted in the fandom.

Please, next time you go to respond to a post saying that you'd rather be stranded on a deserted island with Lucas because he's a doctor, or write a villa fic where Lucas talks about scrubbing in for surgery, keep this post in mind.

[pancakeke]

I wrote a bunch of paragraphs about nothing in particular again so here it is under a readmore so it doesn't take up space.

like 8 years ago when people used tumblr more via desktop browser than its app, I put a 3rd party metric tracker in my desktop theme that logged how people were referred to my blog. it also captured what pages of my blog people viewed.

at one point during this time I reblogged a piece of pixel art from a japanese artist. they came to my blog through their activity page, and then searched my blog in a couple different ways for the terms "ドット" and "ドット絵" ("dot" and "dot art", as in pixel art). I checked those search urls myself to see if they found anything but there were no results because I never used those terms or specifically tagged pixel art in any other way.

ever since then I've made an effort to tag all pixel art I reblog with the term "pixel art". that artist was probably hoping to find more art to check out and it bums me out that my tagging system wasn't thorough enough to help.

this is why I have my current specific tag system lol. it keeps evolving but having the ability to find stuff you're into without jumping through hoops is really handy. (the site-wide post and tag searches return sooo much bullshit. it's a slog sifting through thr noise whenever I use those to fill my queue due to the sheer amount of manga caps, polls, liveblogs, personal posts, and fics posted without readmores...)

if only the way to view all tags you've ever used still worked. I think it caps at 500 or 1000 now and is also chronological so the first 500 or whatever tags you ever used show up in the list. then there's a hard stop and it does not update as you delete posts or use that mass tag editor to remove certain tags for your blog entirely.

I went through my used tag list earlier this year to unify certain tags and remove tags that I stopped using in favor for other ones, but I only got like 400 tagged terms down the list. maybe downloading my blog data would show more. the trick I mentioned uses your desktop blog's archive page. the tags are in its code so you can use "inspect element" to view it. I remember scrolling a lot to load a bunch of posts on the page but cant remember if this was required or I just did it to see if I could access more tags.

it's formatted all fucked and hard to manage but you can copy and paste the long chunk of tags into one cell of a spreadsheet and then use Data options to split them into columns by commas (or whatever punctuation separates them, I forget). a wide list is a huge pain to view so from there you can click on a cell containing data, click ctrl+a to highlight all data in thr row, copy, then paste special as "transposed" to turn the copied row 90° so it pastes as a column. the spreadsheet will wide as fuck from the hundreds of columns so honestly its easier to paste the transposed data into a new tab and delete the original vs clicking in the column to the left of your transposed data and then pressing ctrl+ shift+right arrow to select all rows to the right, then deleting the extra rows.

if you're in Excel you may have to use the "delete rows" option from the "home" tab and then save the sheet using "file > save" (do NOT save via the save button on the upper left corner or ctrl+s). this returns the sheet to a manageable size for scrolling (plus reduces its file size). this piece of shit software usually retains the sheet width/length even after you delete hundreds of columns/rows unless you use this trick of deleting specifically via home tab + saving specifically through the save menu.

I got a round number of tags when I did this which makes me think there's a cutoff.

[booksandabeer]

Hi. First of all, you’re amazing and you’re doing God’s work for us. Second, could you please recommend me some time-travel fics? I think I already read a few well known ones, and was wondering if there’s more? Also, it’s usually both or Bucky who time-travels, is there fics where Steve goes alone instead?

Hello Stranger!

Thanks for the ask and your very kind words. I live to serve! 😉

Now. The first thing I need to do here, is to point you towards this excellent rec list by @voylitscope There are a lot of very good fics on it and I strongly recommend you check it out.

I also want to apologize again for the long wait. I had a busy week and when I finally sat down to put together this list, I realized fairly quickly that almost 90% of it was comprised of some sort of EG-Fix-It fics. Just the idea of writing up my thoughts on all of them felt exhausting and saddening to me, so I scrapped the whole thing and started over. So without further ado, here are 7 fics featuring timey-wimey stuff that I have read and very much enjoyed and 3 more that I've yet to read, but can't wait to get to because they look amazing:

sun peeking through the sky series by dontcallmebree | M, 16K (2 Parts)

Author's summary: Steve clears his throat, curling his hands into fists to hide them. “Alright, say I believe you. Hell, you’re here. So what?”

Scott pins him with an unshakable stare, alive and unyielding. He never realized Scott could be so intense. Sam was the one who knew Scott better, but then again, Sam was always the better one of the two of them. “Look, the place I was in—the quantum realm—it messes with time, it lets you go back.”

Steve wants to throw him out.

A post-IW, twice-over canon divergent series. In the first part, Scott and the Ant Fam (or what's left of it post-Snap) burst into a heavily depressed Steve's existence and slowly turn it into something resembling a life again, and together they hatch a plan to save the world. What that plan entails? I'm not going to spoil it here, but let's just say it's much more clever and original, not to mention more logical and emotionally satisfying than anything that happened in EG. It's a quietly humorous, suspenseful, heartbreaking, and at times brutally tender series about finding and accepting second chances when you least expect them.

To Live It Again Is Past All Endeavor by trinityofone | T, 21 K

Author's summary: Time travel bodyswap! Present-day Steve and Bucky wake up back in their old bodies in 1938, while past Steve and Bucky wake in a future where they're both built like comic book heroes and Bucky's got what he thinks is a swell future robot arm. Adventures are had, and the ethics of time travel are debated. Also, everyone trash talks Willem de Kooning.

A story that really drives home some hard emotional truths while never entirely losing its light touch. Accompany Steve and Bucky as they travel into the future AND the past, and discover their once and future selves. I call this fic "the clairvoyant one" because it features Steve and Bucky contemplating staying in the past and a subsequent discussion of the ethics and purpose of time travel that had me frantically scroll back up and check that, yes, this fic was indeed written all the way back in 2014. I then proceeded to lose my mind a little bit because it is such an eerily specific and accurate rebuttal to Steve's EG ending that I'm more than half convinced the author has clairvoyant abilities.

Where All Roads Lead by DrowningByDegrees | E, 46K

Author's summary: When Steve Rogers inadvertently touches a relic in the course of a mission gone sideways during WWII, he’s catapulted seventy years into the future. Before he's even sure where he's ended up, his search for help puts him in contact with Bucky Barnes, a historian and college professor who has built a career around studying Captain America. With Bucky's help, Steve means to find out how exactly he ended up in 2017, and solve the bigger mystery of how to get home. There's just one problem. The closer they get to their goal, the less certain Steve is that he wants to go home.

A Shrunkyclunks AU where Steve accidentally time travels straight from WW2 to the 21st Century. It's funny and heartbreaking, well-written and cleverly plotted. Also features beautiful art by alby_mangroves that not only beautifully augments the story, but actually is a part of it, too.

The Restoration Artist by superheroresin | E, 109K

Author's summary: As a conservator of rare oil paintings for The Met, Steve Rogers thinks of himself part scientist, part archaeologist, but hardly an artist in his own right. Only when he’s faced with the daunting task of restoring a frozen painting from a recently unearthed Nazi art hoard does he start to feel his passion for the craft return. Before he has a chance to understand what that means, Steve is transported to the 1940’s, where he meets both The Winter Soldier himself, and his own destiny.

A Shrinkyclinks AU in which art conservator Steve travels through time to save Bucky... who has been trapped in a painting...? Mystery! Romance! Art Talk! I practically inhaled this thing in one go, despite the length. This is a really lovely story, full of clever ideas and twist and turns that will keep you guessing. And on top of that you'll learn a whole lot about art restoration! What's not to love?

the world on fire by burlesquecomposer | M, 62K

Author’s summary: Steve loves old vinyl records, doodles on his files, and cannot remember a time that he didn't serve the TVA. And that suits him just fine—that is, until stray variant Bucky Barnes, fresh out of HYDRA's grasp, drops into his time theater and makes Steve question everything he believes in.

A really well written fic that has time travel and variants and alternate timelines and parallel universes and... you get it. A whole lot of timey wimey stuff, but the author keeps track of it all and ties up everything beautifully in the end. A super fun premise, clever plotting, wonderful characterizations, and a firm grasp on the SteveBucky dynamic in every incarnation/iteration/variation. It's a really lovely fic and I think it deserves a lot more love and attention.

On the Cover of Dawn by adeepeningdig | T, 6K

Author's summary: “Listen,” Bucky says again, and pads to Steve, book still in hand. “I’d sell my soul for that/fawn/of a boy night walker/to sound of the ‘ud & flute playing/who saw the glass in my hand said/“drink the wine from between my lips.” He kisses Steve then, insistent, tongue sweeping into his mouth, body to body. Steve buckles beneath it. Two stories. One poem.

I'm cheating a little with this one... maybe. To be perfectly honest, I don't really know what's going on here even after I read this several times. Is it time travel? An alternate universe? Reincarnation? None of it at all? The thing is, I'm not sure the reader is meant to definitively know or understand what exactly is happening, and ultimately, it doesn't really matter. What does matter is the poignancy, the beautiful, at times lyrical language, and the reassurance that Steve and Bucky will find and love each other in every possible universe and incarnation. Also features one of my favorite George Barnes scenes ever.

From Tralfamadore, With Love by newsbypostcard | E, 106K | Part 1 in From Tralfamadore series

Author's summary: In 2018, Steve, Sam, and Bucky embark on a mission to explore a Hydra-owned warehouse when a kid with mutant powers sends Steve 18 years into the future. Steve's just as in love with Bucky as he was when he left, but for Bucky it's been a long 18 years. As he gets used to life in 2036 and the flaws in Bucky's idyllic life expose themselves, Steve also has to manage a suspiciously ubiquitous security force, a Brotherhood of Mutants, and old competing loyalties among his aged friends. There's a Bucky in 2018 waiting for him to come home, but if he does that, it means leaving this Bucky behind for a third, unforgivable time. How can he choose?

Yes yes, I recced this not too long ago, I know. But there is simply no way in hell that I'm going to put together a time travel rec list and NOT include this fic. The summary is pretty self-explanatory, and I really don't want to reveal anymore than that. Much of the tension and emotional drama in this fic comes from not knowing what's going to happen, and from desperately guessing at how on earth the author is going to solve Steve's impossible dilemma. I loved the way the author explored the relationship of a Steve and a Bucky who have been separated for two seconds and 18 years, respectively. Also, possibly the best use of a Fleetwood Mac song in fanfic ever.

🕰 +3 To Reads:

Savage God by PottersPink | M, 36K

Author's summary: Past, present, future, Steve knows Bucky Barnes. It’s why he recognized him when he found him in that alley in April of 1942, even though Bucky was older, stronger, wearier; he called himself The Asset, and had a metal fucking arm. The Asset was only with Steve in 1942 for a few days, but it’s enough to change the course of Steve’s life forever.

Seventy years later, Steve wakes up in the twenty-first century, and he doesn’t know whether to be heartbroken or hopeful when some of the things Bucky revealed to him in 1942 start falling into place.

Every You, Every Me by Starshot | E, 48K

Author's summary: Desperate to follow when Bucky ships out to war in 1943, Steve volunteers for Project Rebirth, an experimental program meant to turn him into the world’s first super-soldier. Instead it fails, leaving him with a condition dubbed “Chrono-Impairment” which sees him travelling uncontrollably through time, to random points in both his and Bucky’s lives.

But with Bucky brainwashed into working for HYDRA, and Steve living life on the run, torn between his own time and Bucky’s, will they ever find the happy ending they so desperately desire? (AKA the Stucky AU based on the book, "The Time Traveler’s Wife" by Audrey Niffenegger)

a day in the life by powerfulowl (StuckyFlangst) E, 20K

Author's summary: Steve wakes to the sound of someone moving about in the kitchen below him. He lies for a few moments, trying to recall—a dream?

He looks over at the nightstand and there is a piece of card propped up there. He reaches out to take it.

You are Captain America. You are Steve Rogers. It is 1956. You are married to Peggy Rogers, nee Carter. You live in New Jersey. Sometimes you have trouble remembering.

Steve Rogers wakes up on Tuesday October 30 1956, and doesn't seem to remember his life that well. Why does every day feel so familiar? And why does he keep getting visited by tall, dark, handsome men who remind him of Bucky?

____________

You can always send more asks for fic recs if you want. I love inflicting my taste on everybody else!

[umbracirrus]

An incredible half of a year, and looking forward to what is to come! 💛

So! Today, it is November 3rd 2023 - this marks exactly six months since I posted the first chapter of The Perfect Storm, as I mentioned in my post a few minutes ago as I posted chapter 14.

It's not a major anniversary, but is a big enough one for me. The reason why? I honestly didn't expect to still be writing at this point! It was my first foray into writing fanfiction once more after a few years of simply not being in the right place mentally to bring myself around to writing, in a fandom which I was new to (though had already been enjoying the Elder Scrolls for a few years by that point), posting a fanfiction based around a very uncommon relationship that was rated E on AO3 and set to be a slow burn... I honestly felt set up to fail from the start, half expected to lose heart within days/weeks of posting that first chapter...

Yet here I am, six months later, still writing - over 40,000 words in at the 14 chapter mark - feeling hopeful for the future and that I will still be writing at this time in six more months and my mind is filled to the brim with ideas of what is to come!

Now, I am first and foremost writing for myself, but I cannot deny that the effect that others - yes, all of you! - has been a massive driving factor. On AO3, my fic - much to my surprise - has somehow got almost 90 kudos, nearly 2,000 hits, 46 subscriptions(?!), and that honestly completely blows my mind whenever I look on my stats page on there. Knowing that people have actually interacted with what I have posted (and in some cases, actually want to read more?!) honestly spurs me on so much because... well, wow!!

And then there is on here! I had my account on here for a few months before I actually started to become active on here about 3-ish months ago, and honestly, I want to just hug every single person I have ever interacted with on here, or who has interacted with me. Followers, mutuals, and the like, I honestly love you all! 💛 I hadn't been involved in a fandom community in years, but the experience here has been incredible - I especially love WIP Wednesdays (even though I sometimes don't post them on a Wednesday) because, again, people actually want to see what I create? But it's such an inspiration driver - the realisation that it is Wednesday/getting tagged on Wednesdays makes me so excited and has me digging through my word documents (or my cross stitching) to show what I have progressed with.

So I really do want to say thank you to everyone for these past six months, and I am absolutely looking forward to another six more - because unlike six months ago, I'm finally feeling happy in myself and my writing, and am honestly the happiest I have felt in years in spite of all the highs and lows I have been through during this period.

Hugs to you all! 💛💛💛

[madametamma]

I like Danny Phantom. I like DC. I’m not sure if I want to just outright block any of the tags because I do genuinely find some good art, and fic prompts, but 90% of the time I find myself just scrolling past entirely uninterested whenever I see the DCxDP tag.

It’s because if any member of the justice league is involved with Danny, than I’m about a 99% sure of how the story is going to end.  They’re going to want to adopt him/ take care of him/ask him to join the league or Batfam, etc  Which is sweet and I don’t fault anyone for being into that.  I’m certainly not against happy endings, or even stories where I can easily predict the ending, but now it seems like the DP space is filled with fics like them and it feels tiring.

Something I love about DP fics is that you can have the same set up across different stories with different outcomes. Have Danny’s secret be revealed to his parents and sometimes they’ll accept him, sometimes they’ll kill him, sometimes it’s a bumpy ride before settling in an uncomfortable, middle. The same with sometimes making Vlad a good guy or bad guy, or the different roads that Valerie may take.

I know you see the angsty kid and you want to write for him that everything works with other superheros who’ll help him out but I’m personally just so tired of it. I’m also pretty sure someone can point me in the direction of a few good DPxDC with tragic endings but I’ve just lost my zest for these crossovers in general.

[zoroara]

I saw you posted an ask game and came rushing to your ask box! 14 I choose you! Time to play dress up with the Varia!

And 21 for hmmmm I'm going to say *throws a dart at a dart board with the Varia members faces on it* Bel

Okay so this has ended up being very long so for the sake of people who may have to scroll past this answers are below.

14. Assign a fashion aesthetic to this character. Okay so that's going to be very interesting because honestly i'm not very aware of fashion i'm really the type of person who goes "Oh shit that looks cool" than anything else. So this is going to end up being very free form rambling However I am aware of quite a few alternate fashion types and their overlaps(as well as their meanings sometimes i get them a liiittle confused), but I can safely say most of the Varia in my mind fall into that with like [also please keep in mind i'm more talking about styles of dress here not the cultures behind them]. Two exceptions.

One, is actually Xanxus because I feel like he has very little idea what he's doing when actually out of his uniform so he defaults to it. He does seem to like to have chains feathers and belts but like 90% of the time whenever you see this man it's just SOME variation of what he already wears on his uniform, or has a collared shirt and dress pants and you gotta wonder at some point if he knows anything else. Though being fair it does look good. So I guess he's just sticking with that.

Levi is the other exception because from what I've seen that man dresses like a suburban dad or like he went to the thrift store, honestly? I love that. So whatever that is stays I think it's fun to have him like that. does he probably get bullied for this a bit? yeah

Lussuria, may be an interesting answer for you to hear because he does like rather brightly coloured outfits and dresses, but I Do think he could dabble in a bit of goth style(Also yes i'm aware of cybergoths and pastel goths but they don't quite have the vibe but do have closer to the colours) and make it really work. Damn shame i hit my wrist really hard today so I can't draw it or i would.

Mammon is just more Goth, like look at them. They'd definitely be more Romantic goth than Lussuria though, which is a funny sentence but it's the type of goth that looks more like they're from the victorian era so you probably understand where i'm coming from there.

Bel you can literally already see the emo influence in his design, it's like there though he's a little more colourful than most things I can find with it. But I don't think his fashion is colourful enough for him to accidentally fall into the scene sort of category.

Squalo falls definitely more into punk fashion to me. spikes chains and all, his uniform is pretty clean of those but I think they suit him for more casual wear.

Cannot explain further on fran other than he has the vibes that he wears grunge clothes but like almost accidentally so.

21. If you're a fic writer and have written for this character, what's your favorite thing to do when you're writing for this character? What's something you don't like?

Fun fact, I haven't written Bel often! I think at this point I've started to write levi more often than him.... interesting. Anyway! The one thing with most of the Varia is I honestly thoroughly enjoy writing for them, even if it can be a bit tricky, even for Bel. I really like writing Banter with him and the others but even more so I like to just release him in a fight. I will say though it's probably most difficult when I'm writing him alone. He's just a character who's really easy to write when there's someone else to bounce off of.... Must be why Amano puts him with Mammon or Fran most of the time. But I can't find anything that I'd outright dislike about writing him.

[accursed-worm]

hello!! i happened to be sitting around trying to figure out where tf my current c!tntduo obsession came from because it was so sudden. and scrolling through my bookmarks i just realized it was single-handedly from red flags so uhh thank you for permanently altering my psyche <3

AJKLASJKLDAKSJL FANCY SEEING YOU HERE. and. okay well. funny story. back in march 2022 when we started the fic? i wasn’t a tntduo stan. i had never written tntduo in my life, i had made one (1) au that featured tntduo at all (and it was very much a side thing). i’m like 90% sure i hadn’t even seen the fucking cornerstone tntduo vod, a deck of green cards with a smile on them. i hadn’t seen that fucking vod (venetapsi had tho, which is why the fic didn’t start out just batshit off the rails non-canon compliant). i was in the fandom throughout 2020, but throughout 2021 i kind of drifted away, and it was only in feb 2022 that i returned—which is why i was so behind on everything. i was just fucking obsessed with cwilbur and after the DSMP: Bust stream (the one where phil gave wilbur the advice after ho16) venetapsi and i were discussing how awfully wilbur trying to apologise to tommy would go and he suggests “hey what if wilbur tried to off himself but quackity found him dying” and i was like “hell yeah” and. now i’ve been obsessed with tntduo for nearly a whole year. it took me many, MANY more months before i started seeing the /r part of it tho—like, it was probably around august? september? i’ve never really been a shipper in any of the past fandoms i’ve been in, never seen the appeal, but that… no longer stands true. although for me shipping tntduo is more just… it’s another really interacting facet to look at their relationship and dynamic through. there’s so much that can be explored with them in a /p sense, and so much that can be explored in a /r sense, and i’m just so obsessed with their dynamic that i want to see them in any and every station.

TLDR red flags is also single-handedly responsible for MY tntduo obsession, and also the fact that i ship them at all

[hexiewrites]

god in addition to just tagging things in the first place, i wish people would be more consistent about how they tag. like i have “major character death” and “mcd” both filtered. but i‘ve run across fics that weren’t filtered for me because they were tagged things like “cw for major character death” or “character death tw”

this isn’t ao3 where there are tag wranglers who link up related tags, so just use the most basic form of a tag that the greatest number of people would probably have blocked

agreed!! it's such a tough thing to regulate on tumblr and obviously way too massive of a job for there to be a standard or tag wranglers but god are we spoiled on ao3! (sure, sometimes you get jumpscared over there, but it's much less common)

my dream would be that any of the major archive warnings get tagged in a consistent way, as well as major triggers. the big ones being major character death, graphic depictions of violence, and underage characters. and then I'd love tags at least for rape/noncon/dubcon content. I wish we could as a site or just as a fandom agree on a standard. whether thats just the tag "major character death" or if we're using TW or CW ("TW major character death") but as it is I just have every permutation I can think of blocked (my block list is.... massive). but if someone tags NOTHING, well... then I can't even block their usual tag.

the other thing is I wish people would just drop it in at the top of the fic. I think people think it ruins the "aesthetics" and they like tumblr ficlets that just START, but because theres no tag consistency, I do wish people would just throw in a line at the top with a basic rating and any tags (and a word count would be really nice). something like: [explicit, 5k, major character death] would be SO brilliant and helpful to the way I use the site.

as it is, I am now incredibly wary about reading tumblr fics and 90% of the time I scroll past. I know I'm missing good content but I just have been burned too many times. :(

[throwaway08127356]

some of yous wanted receipts so I've got some. Now remember it's against server rules to share screenshots but the server is open to the public, you can even join it right here: Aifl discord (adults only) and you can search the quotes yourself How do I know that the comment on the reclist was Tom? Well literally the day before he made this comment "I wonder if any of the existing recs will feature anything other than PIV" when the theme was pwp or whatever and literally the very next day the comment shows up.

When I first joined the server, they were neck deep in a huge discussion about which sorts of trans representation were allowed because Tom kept commenting on artists work saying things like "I'm glad it cuts off so I don't have to throw up" re genitalia. That post was deleted after the backlash but the fallout has a whole thread in the gen channels from forever ago that's still available to read through if you have a strong stomache. And the mods were like "Yes, the general approach here is to scroll past content that doesn’t suit you and to be respectful of other people and their preferences." (direct quote) which is like "yeah usually that's the rule except for Tom). Here's like... a direct link to that thread. You can read it yourself. And this happens all the time and god forbid you're a new user who doesn't know about it an accidentally tag him or mentioning bottom essek in his vicinity because he will publicly shame you for it. And all the mods were in there and spent so much time placating him instead of moderating him which like made it worse. The mods tended to make him worse 90% of the time cause they were all like... good friends outside of the server? But one left and he kicked another one over killing a spider. You can read all about that here btw in their bug sex channel or whatever. Or that time he described a lesbian sex scene from a fic by saying "it was surprisingly tolerable" (direct quote) Like you can act like I'm making this up (or lowkey threaten to sue me over a tumblr post I guess) but it's a real longstanding issue that's definitely breeching containment of the server itself. Seeing his comment on the rec list made me actually really sick to my stomach and I'm sure I'm not the only one.

[kyriemrmister]

tw time prison fic but

the po honda civic post was on my dash and even though there's So Much Wrong with the time prison fic there's also some lines and moments that live in my head rent-free because i love to torment myself with continuing to read it

(elw*nn j*mes my beloathed, tw for mentions of genitalia, daddy kink, slurs, madness combat mentions, sex jokes, five nights at freddy's mentions, pee jokes, poop jokes, sexualization of minors in a smutless manner, mention of drugs and drug trips, and the fact this is a long post about a very cursed crossover fic that i can describe as 'loud house revamped meets tails gets trolled' quite easily. don't click the read more if you can't handle/have triggers towards these things, just scroll past and don't barge into my askbox about it. curate your experience or perish.)

socks getting drunk on vanilla extract (like the meme) and hallucinating that ghosts stole his balls, and the narration reiterating that since he's transmasc he wasn't born with them

oc catgirl fursona tells him that. which only convinces socks that ghosts timetravelled back in time, went into his mother's womb, stole his balls and made him trans

scooby-doo parody in the reboot that involves socks, seiya, shiryu and hyoga trying to bust a ghost in a manner like ghostbusters that somehow shoves a half life full life consequences ("zombie goasts leave this place") AND a the exorcist ("the power of christ compels you") reference one after the other in the dialogue (hyoga says both) and when that doesn't work seiya just tries to intimidate the ghost by flirting/screaming at it

said sequence also involves seiya calling shiryu an 'egirl son of a bitch' (??? i guess shiryu's daphne?) and the ghost isn't even a ghost, it's davy jones in the onion armor from the dark souls memes and davy is just delivering catnip to oc catgirl fursona

seiya is punished for there not being any actual ghost and is forced to clean clearly self-insert mike nesmith's fireplace in a sexy catgirl maid outfit

ikki in this fic works for peppino's pizza as a delivery person and his first delivery is to snick's house, who transforms into, not snick.exe but a 'sanic'-ified version of himself and chases ikki while the sanic meme music plays, bassboosted low quality and all

oc madness combat employer makes mike nesmith x reader fics and they are accidentally printed on the group's printer and this somehow leads to the fic's version of mike porking her

peppino gets a giant purple pizza cutter with angelic runes that translate to the 'pizza pasta put it in a box' ditty, and when they're read out loud the person that read the runes gets attacked by a horde of ghost rats

micky asking if davy needs anything at the store. davy says she wants to fuck. micky's response is, verbatim: "they don't have that."

the peppino weed trip sequence that is set to running in the 90s, features peppino getting beat up by a plethora of cameos, including jd knudson from loud house revamped, cecil from nightvale, and the fish from sharktale

also it ends with him getting jumpscared by freddy fazbear, and then "you have hurt peppino" in the dark souls font with that "game over yeeeeaaaah" soundclip playing over it

messing with the storyline of head (1968) somehow by having the setting's gods trap the victor mature character in the traptanium from fuckign skylanders. this traptanium powers a city in the arctic btw

one bit that takes place in peppino's has the noise breaking through the wall, t-posing, in a sexy catgirl maid outfit (when one of these is involved in the story its always a joke btw) and the fuckibg nyan cat song plays at full volume

peppino's response is um, this: "You sonnuva rotten lasagna! I'm gonna beat-a the mcfuckin' shit outta you and your tiny little dick!"

he doesn't get to. ikki just uses the phoenix cloth and 'omae wa mou shindeiru's him while saying that line verbatim

seiya and hyoga argument that involves the lines 'fuck your stupid baka life' and 'if it pisses like a duck it shits like one too'

mike breaks up the argument and seiya calls him 'daddy'. mike slaps him and kinkshames him because he's not part of the harem and therefore cannot call him daddy

also the time prison bit originates from an actual plot development that never gets mentioned again where the guy who gets thrown there and talks about it is kyle carrozza of funny music project and mighty magiswords fame

luke ski gets tossed into the sea of japan and becomes, basically, monica from ddlc and gets so clingy and attached to kyle he erases his GODDAMN IRL WIFE from existence

the ending of the original fic involves mike killing valo by using an attack so powerful it just destroys the entirety of reality (previously established to be everything fictional, including fanfiction, as well as our reality) and everyone and everything in it and it breaks everything so bad reality as a whole has to be rebooted

i wouldn't recommend it.

[abschaumno1]

I posted 3,237 times in 2022

That's 334 more posts than 2021!

78 posts created (2%)

3,159 posts reblogged (98%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@hypnodonkeyshoepasta

@insertfandomquotehere

@unscharf-an-den-raendern

@morethanthedark

@peoplefolk

I tagged 3,236 of my posts in 2022

#mcyt - 596 posts

#hermitcraft - 382 posts

#fun stuff - 230 posts

#tumblr - 229 posts

#things - 215 posts

#queer - 127 posts

#fandom - 110 posts

#empires smp - 109 posts

#technology - 105 posts

#discourse - 90 posts

Longest Tag: 138 characters

#and i don't think he has anything to gain from that war. not as long as nato and neutral eu states stand behind ukraine and he risks wwiii

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

On fandom, shipping and boundaries - Take 2: Electric Boogaloo

"But Schaum, didn't you say all you had to say in your last post?"

I know, I know, I was fairly thorough in that, and I'm not gonna rehash my points from the last post. But I've seen some takes on here that made me realise that i have more to say so I'm gonna say it.

Specifically I want to talk about boundaries and content creators on tumblr and interactions with content creators on tumblr.

There's been a bunch of discussions in recent days, and they only seem to intensify the longer twitter just saunters vaguely downwards. Mainly the topic has been content creators on tumblr and our good old friend, the boundaries discourse.

My stance on boundaries hasn't changed. My stance that anything goes in fandom as long as we don't send it to the ccs hasn't changed. I won't stop writing my messed-up little fics.

But people are increasingly worrying about ccs seeing their stuff, and we've had at least one incident of a cc replying to a headcanon post telling someone to stop (said cc has apologised since and I will not villify them for what they did even if I criticise it in this post. I'm not out to attack anyone here).

I think what we all have to remind us of is what boundaries actually are and mean. A personal boundary can be all sorts of things. It can be "I don't like shipping" or "I don't want ccs to see my stuff" or "I don't like talk about sex". Having boundaries is completely valid, and enforcing those boundaries with people who talk to you is completely valid as well.

However boundaries do not under any circumstances mean "I don't like this so you're not allowed to ever talk about this.”

All they mean is that you avoid the topic when you talk to them. Strangers having conversations with each other, even where you can hear them, have no obligation to follow your boundaries. They likely don't even know about them. And even if they do, people are allowed to have conversations without you that don't involve you. Yes, even in public on social media.

Blocking tags, words and accounts is how you enforce your boundaries on social media. It's as simple as that. That doesn't mean that you never end up seeing something you don't want to. Sometimes people use different tags or terms. But it is on you to either scroll past or block. Filtering systems are not always perfect, even if tumblr's filtering system is fairly robust in my experience.

For me when a cc says "I don't want to be shipped" that means "i don't want people to talk to me about it and i don't want to see it." Once again, this is fair. I trust these ccs to take measures to avoid it by blocking tags (especially with hermitshipping most people i know tag their shipping so people can filter) or even block accounts or just know to scroll past.

Is this perfect for everyone involved? Likely not, but then life isn't perfect and all we can do is strive to do our best. Online spaces are better for this in some regards, since you can filter more easily than in real life.

But how do we navigate this on a public platform like tumblr? Because that's what the issue is right now for a bunch of people.

For one, this entire thing cannot go one way only. We cannot insist people stop talking about certain things because a cc might hypothetically see it. Boundaries go both ways, and we are as much allowed to state our boundaries, including but not limited to "ccs should not interact with my posts", as ccs are allowed to say "i don't want to see shipping".

I keep seeing this attitude shine through in discussions that essentially puts cc's boundaries on a pedestal and turns them into fandom law. A cc saying "i don't like to see x" turns into fans telling each other "You shouldn't draw/write x because cc doesn't like it." and then into fans telling other fans that they are disrespectful for still drawing/writing x and well... if you're really unlucky you get the name calling and discoursing and telling people they're disgusting and what not.

Rarely if ever is there any serious discussion about fans' boundaries. Yes, there are posts out there from fans talking about how they don't want cc's to see their posts or content. But rarely does it amount to any sort of genuine discussion about how ccs and fans can co-exist on tumblr.

I absolutely agree that ccs can sign up for tumblr just like anyone else. There is no bouncer at the door that stops them. It is a social network.

There is a big but in there though.

Over the past eleven years that I've been on tumblr I got to watch and be part of a culture that absolutely had its ups and downs, but that also turned into something rare on the modern internet.

Part of that is that tumblr is to this day a fandom hub. Fandom is important enough on tumblr that they called themselves "the home of fandom" before.

Tumblr is a space where fans meet each other before it is about sharing anything with ccs. Some people will refute this but it is our space and one of the reasons fandom thrives on here is that we are largely unbothered by those who make the things we are fans of. We post the way we do and share art and fic and headcanons and meta with each other and knowing other fans can see them. This is by and large the last social media platform where people post with no expectation to be noticed. There is no expectation for performativity towards ccs here. We're just vibing in our corner of the internet and leave them be, because fandom is for fans not for creators. This is not some youtuber's discord server that they can set up and moderate according to their specifications. This is fandom that has found a home on a social media platform that has been largely overlooked for close to a decade. It is fandom that made a platform its own and has been using it while people mostly stole our shitposts for twitter and pretended we’re dead.

But that still makes it our platform. We’re living here already. We have a culture here and customs and we are once again primarily fans.

So where does that leave us? What does this mean for incoming ccs (and fans)?

I don’t have a definite answer here. At the end of the day everyone needs to decide for themselves how to do things. But there are a few things that feel important to me to the point where I think we should all keep them in mind:

This is a fandom space before it is a creator enabled space. It is our space because we were here first and we built the existing community

Don’t tell anyone what they can and can’t do.

Respect people’s boundaries in your interactios with them

Fans are allowed to have boundaries and have them respected as much as creators do. Putting one side on a pedestal doesn’t help anyone.

Not everything is for creators but it is not our responsibility to ensure they don’t see it when they come to our house. They can block tags and people the same as we can and they frankly should for their own sake. It is not on us to stop maintagging things because a cc might object.

See the full post

26 notes - Posted November 9, 2022

#4

I can’t believe Tango has blue hair and pronouns.

42 notes - Posted August 21, 2022

#3

No thoughts head empty only Team Rancher.

62 notes - Posted June 27, 2022

#2

Tango goes home to the ranch Jimmy built for him every evening and sleeps there together with Jimmy. It's not their ranch if they're not together.

Jimmy walks in after a long day of managing tumble town to find Tango sitting on the floor, build plans spread out around him, his hair even messier than usual. Tango looks up and smiles and Jimmy knows he's home.

Fwhip tries to tell Tango that Jimmy is corrupt, only for Tango to sigh and tell him that he doesn't care about their squabble. He'll work for fwhip but he won't let him talk badly about Jimmy to him. If fhwip can't stop Tango can and will go. Fwhip is glad Tango is as true as Jimmy always said he was.

Fwhip offers Tango a day off to spend time with Jimmy and Tango smiles as he declines and says they're spending more time together than they're used to anyways.

Tango and Jimmy are happy to spend their evenings together. And their nights. And their mornings. They can't usually do that.

But as happy as they are to be together right now, they won't be heartbroken once Tango and the Hermits leave. They'll just settle back into living apart and texting and calling.

104 notes - Posted November 28, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Jimmy gets shrunk and everyone laughs and he doesn’t mind. It is funny and he knows at the end of the day his friends care about him even if they tease and make fun of him right now.

He doesn’t even think about it too much except for how he’s standing in the middle of the ranch, eyeing the stove and wondering how the heck he is going to make dinner like this since Tango hasn’t come home yet (and maybe Jimmy should talk to fwhip about making sure Tango actually goes home instead of getting lost in his work again).

And then Tango comes home. He stands in the door for a moment and blinks at Jimmy, Jimmy who usually dwarfs him but now barely reaches his knee.

Tango tilts his head and says, “You’re smaller than you were this morning.”

And before Jimmy can reply he’s squatted down and asks, “But you’re still... you?”

Jimmy has to laugh.

“Yes. I’m still the same just... shrunk.”

“Okay. Want me to help you up so you can help with dinner?”

Jimmy nods and as Tango lifts him up and sets him down on the kitchen counter and starts thinking out loud about what they could make (all food Jimmy can actually eat on his own when he’s small like this), Jimmy realises that something’s easing in his chest.

Maybe he doesn’t mind that his friends joke about him being small but it’s nice knowing that there’s someone out there who will just take it in stride and not treat him any diffferently. And maybe it’s nice how Tango can curl around him like this when they go to bed.

156 notes - Posted December 4, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[lovelyyy-luna]

dead on arrival {pt.5}

fandom: american horror story: murder house

fic summary: living in the infamous murder house may have taken a negative toll on Y/N. is what she sees all in her head? Or is it from something more sinister?

chapter summary: Y/N confronts Tate about that night and he makes her upset that he may have revealed what he is.

warning: language

word count: 1209

date: december 31, 2021

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4 | PART 5 |

masterlist

Westfield high school Los Angeles, you search.

Many search results come up but then you see Westfield High Massacre.

You click on the article and scroll down until you see the photos of the students. They were there. The students from the library were dead. You were seeing dead people.

You start to read the article, “at 12:30p.m, student/gunman walked onto campus and brutally killed 15 of his peers. The gunman was-”

Before you could read the rest your laptop shut down and started smoking. You didn’t know what to do. You threw it off the bed, and then you heard a loud crash come from downstairs.

You race downstairs and you see that the chandelier had broken from the wire connected to their glass spread across the floor. Your dad poked his head out of his office and told you to put some shoes on if you were going to come downstairs.

You put on some shoes and help him clean up the shards of glass. Then the front door opened and your mom and Violet came in.

“Oh god what happened?” your mom asked, walking around the glass.

“I have no clue, the chandelier just gave out. Luckily no one was under it when it crashed.” your dad said.

Violet walked past you and into the kitchen. You finish sweeping and go into the kitchen to throw the glass away.

“Here you go,” she placed your books on the kitchen table, “why couldn’t you check them out yourself?”

“Did you know there was a school shooting at the school in the ’90s?”

“I think I heard a few students talking about that. What about it?”

“It’s just that… I got a bad vibe from that place. That’s all,” you turn and smile at her and take your books up to your room.

You put the books on your desk and look over at your burnt-out laptop.

How were you going to do your homework now? You thought to yourself.

You took your laptop downstairs and went to put it in the trash can.

“Oh shit hon what happened to your laptop?” your mom asked.

“It just started to smoke and melt.”

“Well that sucks, I'll take you to the store tomorrow for a new one.'' She started dinner and you went back up to your room.

You put on some headphones and just stared off into space, you didn't even notice Violet standing in the door framing asking you questions.

You turn your head and take the headphones off, “What did you say?”

“So what was the real reason you couldn’t get the books? Did you have an episode at the library?”

“Yes… and no.”

“What happened?”

“Okay this is going to sound strange but when I went to the library I saw these people. They were trying to talk to me, saying she can see me! She can see me! Vi, I think I’m seeing ghosts.”

“Y/N that’s impossible. No one can see ghosts.”

“But what if I can? It would make a lot more sense than me being crazy.”

“No Y/N it would make more sense if you were crazy because ghosts aren’t real.”

“I don't know. I just need some time to think.”

Violet nods and walks out the door.

You lay back on your bed listening to music and close your eyes, then you whisper to yourself, “God I miss Tate.”

You soon feel the bed dip by the side of your arms, you open your eyes and see that Tate was hovering above you.

You push him off of you and tackle him into a hug, “Oh my god Tate! You’re here! How did you get here?”

“Well, I might have been sneaking around outside your house waiting for you to say my name.”

“Well, that is odd because I believe I whispered it so quietly that only someone in this room could hear. So either you were already in my room when I said it or…” you trail off hoping he didn’t fill in the last part.

“Fine, you caught me. You aren’t scared or weirded out that I was in your room?”

“I mean not really. I know that you would never hurt me so why should I be scared?”

“That’s true. I would never hurt you, Y/N. Never.”

You looked into his eyes and he was staring back. There were so many feelings that you had for him. You really liked him. Maybe even more than that.

But underneath all those lovely feelings there was a dark cloud in the back of your mind that something about all this wasn’t right, that something terrible might happen.

You both spent the night in bed watching movies on your phone and you finally got the courage to ask him about that night.

“So Tate?”

“Yes beautiful?”

“That night, you could see that lady? Right?”

He had a little panic in his face but quickly recovered, “What lady? Uh, all I remember of that night was you standing in the middle of the room yelling and screaming. I tried to shake you to wake you up.”

You were very confused. You’ve never slept, walked before, or had an episode while sleeping. “That doesn’t make sense. I heard you and I saw you talking to her.”

You started to get very agitated and emotional. “Tate please dont lie to me!” tears started to form, “I know you saw her. Please don't make me feel like I'm crazy!”

He started to stutter, “well maybe you are crazy.”

You were in complete shock about what he said. You got up from the bed and opened the door, “Get out.”

“Y/N I'm sorry I didn’t mean it.”

“Yes, you did. Now get out of my room Tate!” you went to the bed and grabbed him from his shirt and dragged him to the door.

“Y/n come on dont be like this.”

You started to push him out of the door and into the hallway. “Leave Tate!” you keep pushing him and pushing him.

“Im sorry y/n”

You were so mad that you didn’t know what you were doing. You didn’t realize that you got him close to the edge of the stairs and the one that last push you gave him sent him.

Everything happened in slow motion. Tate was falling and you were in shock. His hand reached out for yours and you could see the fear in his eyes.

Then it all snapped back and he fell down the stairs. You could hear each step he hit and you could feel your heartbreaking

“Tate?” your voice echoed in the darkness.

You knelt on the floor near the edge and called out to him one more time, “Tate. Please answer me.”

A hand emerged from the darkness and tapped you on the shoulder, “Y/N?”

You turned around in fear, it was Tate. you look up at him, you were scared. “Wh- what the fuck? You were down there! I pushed you! How did you get up here?”

You started to freak out, mumbling and stuttering. Tate put his hands on your shoulders hoping that you’d calm down but obviously you couldn’t.

Then the doors from your parents and Violet’s room started to rattle. They were coming out of the room.

Right in front of your eyes, he disappeared. Causing you to scream.

“Y/N honey what is going on?” your mom asked panicked.

“He was here and now he isn’t. I saw him. He fell down the stairs. He was here.” you were just saying things that weren’t making sense to anyone.

Your father rushed past you and went downstairs to his office. He came back up, “Listen Y/N im sorry.”

Your dad takes the vile and needle from his hand and injects it into you. In a matter of seconds, you were out.

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4 | PART 5 |

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