#feel free to reblog if you wanna play and see what people think your fics taste like ✨️

[siffrins-therapist]

Tell me on anon (or not) what my fics taste like.

Either a specific fic or a general taste of my writing in general :3

[randomcreator-09]

Small Heath's Songbird (Thomas Shelby x OCY/N!Reader)

(Gif not mine > @bonniebird)

I WANNA BE KISSED LIKE THIS TOO T^T

Part One - Part Two

✨Pure fluff, No Grace, no smut... for now 😏✨

🐧Aha~ hello people of this world... took me long to finish writing this aha busy playing adult, phew. Ok context, don't get me wrong, I love the original Grace but in this fic, she's nonexistent. OCY/N is an asian heh hope that ayt with yall. ALSO this will focus on season 3, where Tommy has his arrow house already. Although his single asf and relies on whores... Until hehehe yeah boi~ XD Also this is just a character intro sorta... but there would be some important factors here that you need to know to be able to fully understand part two, so READ IT >:D muhahahahaha🐧

Own character description but it's Y/N POV

3.4k words

REBLOG TO SPREAD ADDICTION and kudos are appreciated too thank you ^^

Enjoy reading ^^

Part One - Part Two

-----

Birmingham was unkind to those who were different from them. Although England wasn't perfect themselves they still held grudges to those they deemed 'peculiar'.

You were spot on in that criteria. Small in height, jet black wavy hair, slightly slanted almond eyes, and full lips. However your skin tone was the same as theirs, coming from your European side of the family, that didn't save you from the racial slurs you'd get when you moved to Birmingham. A lot of people weren't as happy as you were when you arrived, a few looks here and there, but your used to it even in your home country. You see, you had bright blue eyes (with a little tint of green). Very unique if you'd say, but people disagree on that, especially your people. They think your the devils daughter and for it they kicked you out too.

It's been a few months since you settled in Small Heath. A kind woman accepted you with open arms and let you stay for a while in her humble home till you found yourself a job. She was a whore yes, but that didn't bother you since you've seen a lot worse than being a whore. You respected her even, for it was hard to live by selling your body to people you don't love. She offered you a job once (to be a whore) but you quickly declined saying 'as much as I respect your field of work Missus, I'd like to keep my innocence to a man I love'.

Not that you were virgin, oh no, you've definitely had made love with a few men through your travels, but none of them really stuck with you or vice versa. They just didn't feel right.

Days went by and the landlady ran to you with the daily newspaper in hand. "Look!" she said pointing at an advertisement, "Personal assistant maid needed," as you took the newpaper from her hands and smiled with delight, 'this is it' you thought. The landlady stubbed her cigar dead on the newspaper "Fuck, it's the arrow house." she said as she took the newspaper from you shaking her head. "Wha- Missus but the pay is good?!" you retorted to which she glared at you at for, "The Arrow House is owned by a notorious gangster who'd either kill you or fuck your life up with his fukin fingers!" she explained crossing her arms facing you "you can't even become a prostitute here why bother going to a devils house and be his whore?" she continued.

Your brows furrowed in question. You didn't mind being with a devil sure but to be his whore... Now that may cross a line. "Personal Assistant maid, it doesn't say anythin about being a prostitute," you tried explaining, even though you knew what she meant by that. Most men thought any woman with no man in public is a whore. However the pay was good, it included your own room, free food, and a lot of free time too! With that thought in mind you could still go for that bar singer position every Saturday in the Garrison (to which you heard from the ladies who lived upstairs who tried the position and failed miserably).

The landlady shook her head and sighed, she can't stop you now for she knew, you have decided and when that happens nothing can ever change your mind. "Suit yourself," as she walked away.

-----

The day came and you got a call back from Frances (the head maid), looks like faith was on your side on this one. Hopefully, not as his whore...

You paused to admire the beautiful house as you walked down the gravel road (unsuccessful with pulling a cab because they'd just pass by you). Red bricks stacked upon each other and gorgeous grey pillars and intricate designs adorned it. Still can't believe he lives alone in this big mansion. You huffed air in your lungs as you stride to the main door, lifting your arms to knock.

Knock knock knock

As you puffed the door creaks open to a woman in black, "Ah, you must be Y/N, come in." as she gestured you in. You stared at awe at how spacious the place was. The stairs up was beautiful with portraits of horses and perhaps you thought the Shelby brothers. "We won't be doing much today. Mr. Shelby is out of town and so tomorrow is when you'll officially start. For now get comfortable and I'll roam you around," she spoke clear and concise as you answered by nodding and 'yes Miss Florence' following her to your room.

Your room was spacious as well. A queen size bed on the middle of the room with a window on the left side and a makeup desk on the right. The room was well lit with electric lamps on each side of the bed side and the ceiling was well sculptured with wooden structures, floor was wooden as well. Although the wall were concrete white walls. The room was on the second floor beside Miss Florence's room, away from Mr. Shelby's room, which was a relief on your side.

Miss Florence gave you an hour to get yourself acquainted with your room and said that you had to be out in the entrance where she would be waiting to tour you around. You nodded and she left.

-----

As you have arranged your things in your new room and got ready for the tour Miss Florence had in store for you, you looked at your reflection in the mirror to make sure you look alright for the day. With a nod and a smile you went out and to the entrance where Miss Florence would be.

Miss Florence, a composed and efficient figure, waited for you near the grand entrance of Arrow House, her expression warm yet formal. She nodded approvingly as you approached, and after a quick greeting, she began the tour.

“Arrow House has its own unique history,” Miss Florence explained as she led you through the main hall, with its high ceilings, elaborate chandeliers, and walls adorned with artwork of the family’s ancestors. “Mr. Shelby brought new life to it when he acquired it, though he values his privacy.”

She walked you through the elegant sitting rooms first, which, despite the muted tones and dark wood, held a sense of opulence. “These rooms are for Mr. Shelby’s meetings and guests. They don’t see much daily use,” she added, pausing by one of the grand fireplaces. The flickering light from the embers cast a warm glow, highlighting the fine detail in the antique furniture.

Next, she led you to the kitchen, which, unlike the other rooms, bustled with activity. The staff members here worked with impressive coordination, preparing meals and ensuring everything was ready at a moment’s notice. “The kitchen is where you’ll be helping from time to time,” Miss Florence informed you. “Mr. Shelby’s tastes are simple, but he expects high standards.”

She guided you through the dining hall, where a large mahogany table stood at the center, framed by polished silverware and neatly folded napkins. “It may look grand, but meals are usually straightforward affairs unless there are visitors,” she commented, giving a rare, light chuckle.

You followed her up the grand staircase, its carpeted steps soft beneath your feet. Miss Florence pointed out the various guest rooms, each one elegantly prepared, with tasteful decor, though they rarely saw visitors. “The family only uses these rooms on occasion,” she remarked, indicating the polished brass fixtures and thick curtains. “Mr. Shelby has specific guests, and they sometimes stay overnight. Best to keep everything ready.”

Finally, she took you down a corridor that led to Mr. Shelby’s private quarters. She paused outside the door of his room. “This is Mr. Shelby’s room. You’re not to enter unless asked.” She looked at you with a hint of seriousness before adding, “Privacy is highly regarded here.”

Finally, after guiding you through the upper floors, Miss Florence led you back downstairs. She stopped near a richly decorated doorway just off the main hall.

“And this,” she said, “is Mr. Shelby’s office. You’ll find him here often.” She looked at you pointedly, adding, “Best to knock and wait for a response before entering.”

Through the doorway, you could see the polished desk, papers stacked with military precision, and the faint scent of cigars lingering in the air. This room, located on the ground floor, clearly held an air of authority and was situated close to the entry—perfect for swift meetings or private business.

With the tour complete, Miss Florence gave a small nod. “Take a moment to familiarize yourself with the house,” she said, before leaving you alone in the dimly lit hallway, surrounded by Arrow House’s quiet opulence.

The sun was still out so you planned to walk around outside. The house had a small garden at the side and a horse stables on the back which was clearly Mr. Shelby's.

The house also had a porch, with a posh white table and two chairs seeing the lush green forest from afar. You sighed as you felt the breeze on your neck to your half-tied hair and crossed your arms around you feeling the cold wind trickling your skin through your clothes. The clothes you wore were expensive to say the least, your former landlady was so sad you were moving out that she gifted you a luxurious royal blue dress to wear going to the mansion.

Suddenly a warm feeling enveloped you as you flinched looking at your shoulders. A dark coat was over your body and a quick smoke flickered your eyes to see a man with a defined jaw and cheekbones. "You must be Y/N," he said as he kept his eyes on the greenery. "Shelby, but you can call me Thomas" as he offered his hands towards you.

As you raised your hands slowly to shake his you hesitated and dropped your hands back to your sides. You removed his dark coat around you and offered it back, "Thank you for the kind gesture Mr. Shelby, but I am your personal made not a visitor. I am here to work for you" you said as you continued to look down at his shoes, unable to look up his face.

"Hmm," a low grumble from the throat made you lift your head up, and there you saw his head tilted closer to yours with his piercing blue eyes straight to yours. "Well, you have beautiful eyes that I can assure ye'" as he puffed out the smoke in his lungs, standing up and taking the coat on your hands and swiftly placing them again on top of your shoulders.

You could smell the strong cologne he had on. Mixed with the scent of the cigar he was taking and blood? It was dangerously addicting.

"You'll start tomorrow anyways," as he started to walk away slowly. "Let me at least treat you as a visitor before you get all busy." as he started to walk towards the stables. You suddenly feel blood rushing to your cheeks reminiscing about his scent and how his face was close to yours.

"You following or not?" a shout from afar caught your attention and removed you from your thoughts. "Yes Mr. Shelby, following!" you shouted back as you ran towards him.

-----(Tommy's POV)

The ride back to Arrow House was a haze of smoke, blood, and lingering fury. Changretta’s betrayal was handled, his lifeless eyes now a grim reminder of the consequences of crossing Thomas Shelby. Yet as the gravel crunched beneath his vehicle and the grand silhouette of Arrow House emerged, a part of him yearned for something—anything—other than the chaos he’d left behind.

As he placed his feet unto the gravel road, the cool evening breeze carried hints of earth and lavender, a stark contrast to the suffocating smoke-filled rooms of Birmingham. He loosened his tie as he rounded the corner of the porch, lighting himself a cigar, his gaze falling on a figure in a striking royal blue dress.

She stood there, arms crossed against the chill, her posture straight but her gaze distant as if lost in thought. Her hair was tied back neatly, a few tendrils escaping to frame a delicate face. He stopped mid-stride, his breath catching for a moment. She turned slightly, and the setting sun caught her profile—soft, porcelain skin glowing against the backdrop of the lush green garden.

For a brief moment, Thomas thought she was a guest, someone important perhaps, yet there was no carriage, no announcement of arrival. It wasn’t until he noticed the plain black shoes and the way her fingers fidgeted with the hem of her dress that he realized—this was the new maid.

"Interesting."

He removed his dark coat and approached her, draping it over her shoulders in a practiced motion. She flinched slightly at the contact but didn’t pull away.

“You must be Y/N,” he said, keeping his tone low as he puffed his cigarette. He glanced past her at the garden, keeping his expression unreadable.

She hesitated, her fingers gripping the edges of the coat as if debating whether to keep it. “Shelby,” he introduced, his voice firm yet laced with intrigue, “but you can call me Thomas.” He extended a hand.

Her reaction amused him. She raised her hand but let it fall back to her side, averting her gaze. Then, she carefully removed the coat and held it out to him. “Thank you for the kind gesture, Mr. Shelby, but I am your personal maid, not a visitor. I am here to work for you.”

Thomas’s lips twitched into the faintest hint of a smirk. Her voice was polite yet firm, and her shyness intrigued him. “Hmm.” The soft growl from his throat made her finally look up.

Her eyes caught him off guard. Blue, with a hint of green—bright and unique, a startling contrast against her dark lashes and raven hair. He tilted his head slightly, letting the silence linger as he leaned closer, holding her gaze.

“Well,” he said, his voice softer but no less commanding, “you have beautiful eyes, that I can assure ye’.” He took the coat from her hands and deliberately placed it back over her shoulders, his fingers brushing lightly against the fabric of her dress. “You’ll start tomorrow anyways. Let me at least treat you as a visitor before you get all busy.”

Without waiting for a response, he turned and started walking toward the stables, the weight of her presence lingering in his mind.

“You following or not?” he called out without looking back.

“Yes, Mr. Shelby! Following!” Her voice was a touch breathless, and it brought an unexpected smile to his lips.

-----Your POV

As the gravel crunched beneath your feet, you quickened your pace to catch up with Mr. Shelby, who was already nearing the stables. The breeze carried the faint scent of hay and leather, mingling with the earthy aroma of the horses. You hesitated briefly before stepping into the barn, the dim light casting soft shadows across the wooden beams.

Thomas Shelby stood near one of the horses, his fingers brushing through its mane with an ease that spoke of familiarity. The soft nickering of the animal filled the air as he looked over his shoulder to see you standing awkwardly in the doorway.

“You don’t have to just stand there,” he remarked, his tone light but firm. “They don’t bite… much.”

A nervous chuckle escaped your lips as you stepped closer, the warmth of the stable wrapping around you like a comforting blanket. The horse he was grooming turned its head slightly, as if inspecting you. Its dark eyes held a quiet curiosity, much like its owner’s piercing gaze.

“Do you know much about horses?” he asked, handing you a brush without waiting for an answer.

You shook your head, gently taking the brush from his outstretched hand. “Not really, Mr. Shelby. I’ve always admired them, though.”

“Thomas,” he corrected, his voice steady. “If you’re working here, we may as well skip the formalities.”

You nodded, feeling a small wave of relief at his approachable tone. Moving to stand beside him, you watched as he demonstrated the technique, his hands methodical as he ran the brush down the horse’s side. You followed his lead, your movements careful and deliberate.

“This one’s name is Arrow,” he said, his voice softer now. “She’s got a temper, but if you’re patient, she’ll warm up to you.”

You couldn’t help but smile as Arrow leaned slightly into your touch, her warm breath puffing against your arm. “She’s beautiful,” you murmured, glancing at Thomas out of the corner of your eye.

“She knows it,” he replied, a smirk tugging at his lips.

For a moment, there was a comfortable silence, filled only by the rustling of hay and the rhythmic strokes of the brushes. You felt a strange sense of ease around him, despite the intimidating aura he carried.

“Why Birmingham?” he asked suddenly, his tone casual but curious.

The question caught you off guard, and you paused mid-stroke. “It wasn’t really a choice,” you admitted. “I needed somewhere to start over, and Birmingham… well, it’s not as unkind as some places.”

His gaze lingered on you for a moment, thoughtful. “People here can be… particular,” he said. “But they’ll get used to you.”

You didn’t miss the unspoken meaning behind his words—he understood what it was like to be judged, to carry something on your shoulders that others didn’t bother to understand.

“And you?” you asked tentatively, surprising yourself with the question. “Do you get used to people?”

Thomas paused, his hands stilling on the brush. A flicker of something unreadable passed over his face before he turned back to Arrow. “Only the ones worth knowing.”

His words hung in the air, heavy with an unspoken depth that made your heart flutter. Before you could respond, he straightened, dusting off his hands. “Come on,” he said, motioning toward the barn door. “It’s getting dark.”

-----

The kitchen was warm and inviting, far cozier than the grandeur of the dining hall you’d seen earlier. Thomas moved with an ease that surprised you, setting out simple plates and pouring glasses of water. The smell of fresh bread and stew filled the air, and you found yourself relaxing as you took a seat at the modest wooden table.

“Not what you were expecting, was it?” he asked, setting a bowl of stew in front of you.

You shook your head, smiling. “Not at all. It’s… nice. Feels more real.”

His lips quirked into a faint smile as he took a seat across from you. “Real’s not a word people usually associate with me.”

You tilted your head, studying him. “Maybe they’re not looking close enough.”

He looked at you then, really looked, and you felt the intensity of his gaze settle over you like a weight. The air between you shifted, charged with something you couldn’t quite name.

As the meal went on, the conversation flowed easily, each shared story peeling back another layer of the man who, only hours ago, had been a mysterious and intimidating figure. By the time the plates were empty and the kitchen quieted, the darkness outside had deepened, wrapping the house in a blanket of stillness.

Thomas leaned back in his chair, his eyes fixed on you. “You’ll do fine here,” he said softly accentuating the end remark, almost to himself.

You felt a warmth rise in your chest at his words, but before you could thank him, he stood and walked as he leaned to your side. The sudden closeness made your breath catch, and when he reached down to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingered for just a moment too long.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with something that sent a shiver down your spine.

Without thinking, your hand brushed against his. He stopped, his eyes searching yours, and slowly in that moment, the space between you disappeared. His lips met yours in a kiss that was both gentle and unyielding, a moment that felt suspended in time.

When he pulled back, his expression was unreadable, but there was a softness in his eyes you hadn’t seen before. “See you tomorrow,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, before he turned and left the kitchen.

You sat there, your heart racing, trying to piece together what had just happened. One thing was certain—life at Arrow House was going to be anything but ordinary.

----- End of part one (Part Two on December 24th [to be updated here])

Part One - Part Two

-----

🐧See what I did with the GIF and the ending huhhhhhhh ^w^ anyways hope ya'll can wait till 24th ehe🐧

Like this post to be tagged in Part Two ^^ (and to be added to my Taglist)

TAGS: (Tried doing it here instead to keep my comment section clean XD)

@mysticalbouquetwolf-posts - @stardustandor - @tommyshelbysgoodgirl - @courtney5599 - @omgsuperstarg

- @exploringmycosmicsoul - @europixie - @josephine-02 - @n1ghtw1ngslvr - @angelicbabydolll -

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Like this post to be tagged in Part Two ^^

[imagine-you]

🎄Christmas/Holiday Prompt List 🎄

Four years ago, I created a Halloween/Horror Prompt List. Today, I decided to make a Christmas one.

Please reblog and write your own stories! Feel free to do what you want with these prompts. Make your fics festive. Make your fics sweet as sugarplums. Make your characters yearn or make them fall in love. Make your fic so full of holiday cliches that people can make their own drinking game or leave people heartbroken for the holidays! Just please have fun and enjoy!

Scenarios:

Character A and Character B are snowed in for the holidays and have to spend the next few days together despite the fact they can't stand each other.

Character A and Character B hate each other, but their best friends are dating, so they have to play nice for their holiday party. A good old-fashioned enemies to lovers story ensues.

Character A and Character B end up under the mistletoe and Character A tries to play it off as a joke but Character B seems very serious about this all of a sudden.

Character A has to take their niece and/or nephew to take pictures with Santa and the person beneath the beard looks a lot like their ex (Character B). (May include lap-sitting and reconciliation.)

Character A missed their flight to visit their family and Character B is kind enough to invite Character A over to celebrate Christmas with them.

Character A injures themselves putting up their Christmas lights and Character B is an EMT who's used to seeing Character A in these situations.

Character A despises Christmas movies and Character B is hellbent on changing their mind with an epic marathon (and cuddling).

Character A needs a date for their family's Christmas party and Character B is weirdly adamant about playing their fake boyfriend/girlfriend/partner.

Character A gets roped into a snowball fight and Character B seems to have it out for them.

Character A is trying to get back to Character B for Christmas, but gets stranded in the middle of nowhere. Character B shows up and it's not home, but at least they're together. (May include a Christmas feast made out of vending machine snacks.)

Character A and Character B are the only people staying in their dorm for the holidays and decide to make the best of the situation together.

Character A is in love with Character B, but Character B has no clue. Character A decides to share their feelings amidst the magic of Christmas and it doesn't go how they thought. Character B shows up on their doorstep and they reconcile/end up together.

Character A receives a Secret Santa gift that comes with a letter from their secret admirer. Character A thinks it's someone else, when it's really Character B, who finally reveals their feelings. May include hijinks.

Christmas Song Lyrics As Dialogue:

I get a little lonely every year around this time.

I just want you for my own.

Beautiful, what's your hurry?

You should be here with me.

I wait for it all year round.

No reason to forget this feeling we're feeling now.

All I need is you next to me.

It's not Christmas without you.

I can't believe my eyes, I must be dreaming.

I don't think Santa Claus will mind, do you?

Think I only want you under my mistletoe.

You'll be Santa Claus and I'll Mrs.

How quickly can you build a snowman?

You're as cuddly as a cactus.

You're the last thing I wanna see.

I'm avoiding every mistletoe.

Don't make me fall in love again.

Last Christmas, I gave you my heart.

Know that I'll always be yours.

I swear that I'm more than just broken promises.

Come on, it's lovely weather.

It'll be the perfect ending to a perfect day.

Been hoping that you'd drop in.

I don't want to fight tonight with you.

Holiday Staples:

Holiday Caroling

Hot Chocolate

Presents

Mistletoe

Snowman

Secret Santa

Holiday Party

Fake Dating

Christmas Songs

Grinch

Decorating

Baking

Fireplace

Stockings

Cuddling For Warmth

Christmas Movies

Santa

Snowball Fight

Gingerbread

Sleigh Ride

Reindeer

North Pole

Eggnog

Candy Cane

[bluedalahorse]

Blue’s Contrary Young Royals Opinions Poll (make your own if you want to!)

Just for funsies, I created a poll about my Contrary Young Royals Opinions. I’m calling them Contrary rather than Unpopular because different things are popular in different parts of fandom, and things cycle in and out of popularity, so who knows what’s popular even? Rather, these are just things that I am stubborn and ornery about. Some of them might be mainstream opinions, but I am stubborn and ornery about them all the same.

You all know that I am an August Enjoyer who obstinately ships sargust, so I did not put that on the poll. I also feel that my sargust shipping and August enjoying sometimes obscures my other contrary opinions because it’s like, my signature trait. So this is a chance to talk about other things!

Please vote and reblog for the sake of fun and interesting data. Add commentary in the tags if you feel like it. Also feel free to create your own Contrary Opinion poll, because I wanna see what other people’s contrary opinions are.

Explanations below the cut. Click if you want to know more about what each poll button means to me in more depth.

Wille is demi and bi and should explore his gender more post-canon. Now, in canon, Wille is unlabeled, and I wanna respect that. So this is more headcanon than anything else. I know some folks read Wille as exclusively same-sex attracted. I do not (although I support people doing such) but I also read him as much more on the demisexual and/or demiromantic end of the spectrum than anything else. Of course I am aspec, so I’m seeing it through this lens. On the gender side of things, well, I just think it would be neat? Wille trying on nail polish and then furiously scrubbing it off breaks my heart. It feels like the royal fam has controlled Wille’s gender expression most of his life and made him present in this more conservative masculine way, and he hasn’t had many options. I also do think Wille’s explosive anger is something he’ll have to grapple with in the future, and I see his anger as tied to a lot of the masculine socializing he was raised in. So having outlets for his feelings that are a little less conventionally masculine could be good. Let Wille wear nail polish. Let him wear skirts. Let him experiment with his hair! I’m of the opinion that even cis people should explore their gender, so even if he played with his gender expression for six months and then decided he’d continue to present conventionally masculine again, that would be good for him. (But in my heart I’m a bit of a he/they Wille truther, not gonna lie.)

Simon does some things wrong and that’s wonderful actually. Let me explain what I mean by this. There is a popular view of Simon where he’s very selfless and makes sacrifices for his loved ones and stands up for what he believes in, while also having to suffer and do a lot of things out of desperation. This is true. There is also a co-existing side of Simon that’s a little less selfless, a little more ambitious, and a little bit more likely to make assumptions about what other people want or need without consulting them. There’s the Simon who feels he has to protect Sara when she clearly doesn’t want him to, and the Simon who hides things from Linda when he shouldn’t. There’s the Simon who calls Bjärstad shitty in a way that upsets Rosh and Ayub at the beginning of season 1, who enlists Rosh and Ayub to help intimidate August in 1.3 without fully thinking about how they might feel about it. Yes, Simon does a lot of things out of selfless care for others and out of desperation, but to assume he only ever does things for selfless, desperate reasons without any selfish impulses or ambition mixed in is… well, it misses some of the most fascinating contradictions in his character. Let Simon be a selfish teenager sometimes! It’s developmentally appropriate and it might one day save his life.

Dirtbag Erik > Perfect Brother Erik. I never really gravitated toward the perfectly supportive headcanon for Erik that was popular in some corners of fandom. I know this is not a radical thing to claim after season 3 and a lot of people are coming out of the woodwork and saying it. I think the point I want to make here is less that Ambiguously A Dirtbag Erik is canon and more that he’s inherently more interesting to me to read about than Saint Erik, Patron of Lost Little Brothers. I’m sort of fascinated by the way that interactions with family members always have layers, and that you look back on past events and uncover more of the layers as you grow up. That’s the shit I live for in fiction. I also don’t love discussions about “what would Erik do if he were alive” because I enjoy sitting in the horrific tension of characters not knowing but having to build a better world in his absence.

August/Nils should have a lot more fics on AO3 than it does. As far as I can tell it has one. One! I ship August with Sara first and foremost but August and Nils have some unexpectedly tender moments in season 3 that made me go “wait, that’s interesting…” about their relationship. Yes, August keeps calling Nils nouveau riche. Yes, Nils finds August’s perfectionism annoying. These are all just tensions to play on to make the eventual bittersweet, conflicted makeout scene more bittersweet and conflicted and hot. If August/Vincent can suddenly gain more fics post season 3, it surprises me that August/Nils hasn’t surpassed them.

Linda deserves to have a life and hobbies beyond her kids, and especially beyond being perfect for her kids. Don’t get me wrong, she does care about Simon and Sara a lot and does what she can for them. And because we’re watching a show centered around teenage characters, we’re mostly gonna imagine her in her capacity as a mom. But I also love seeing the moments in canon where Linda is less than perfect—when she embarrasses her kids, or when she comes down hard on them in ways that are less than helpful—because that shows the human vulnerabilities beneath. That she’s trying to figure things out in the moment, and she isn’t always right. That makes me love her more. And I’d desperately love to see Linda have a hobby like, I dunno, writing a crime novel every NaNoWriMo or something. (I have put this into a fanfic, actually.)

Frida and Malte and Nikita are the hottest of the Main Five actors. I get the appeal of Omar in abstract way, but he looks exactly like the crush of one of my chief OCs in a YA novel I was writing, so I think of him as OC Rose’s crush and feel no draw to him myself. Edvin is a great actor but does nothing for me aesthetically. Oh, aesthetic attraction. So individualized to all of us!

Salice is more meaningful to me as a platonic ship than a romantic one. I am so glad they bring people joy as a romantic ship, and I’m happy to gift the fic ideas I do get for them to the people who love them, but for me they matter more as best friends. When I write them, I draw on real platonic friendships I have had in my real life, ones that matter a lot. Sara breaking up with August to prioritize friendship feels more radical to me. Also sometimes I think I’m a Bad Sapphic for having these thoughts about Salice, but then I remember that Heart and Homeland has so much sapphic content involving Felice and other women, as well as just sapphic content beyond that, and I sleep easier.

Rosh should be shipped with all the other girls, and frequently and creatively. Yes, Madirosh is an overnight fanon sensation we should celebrate that. Yes, Stella/Rosh took us by surprise and by storm for a hot minute, and we should do more of it. But have we considered… Fredrika trying to angrily and messily seduce Rosh because Stella seemed to be crushing on her? How about Rosh and Felice as a glorious butch/femme power couple? How about if Sara is gonna date a tall athletic brunette she dates one who plays a real sport (football) and not a fake sport (rowing)? I hope we all see the vision.

Oops Vincent is sympathetic sometimes. Look, I am not going to deny that Vincent is a bully who sucks. I also think his first year letter was telling. In the letter, Vincent, at sixteen, has just received his ADHD diagnosis. That’s a long time for a rich white boy to go without getting one! That means he’s probably had sixteen years to struggle to pay attention in class—he’s probably acting out and moving around a lot, and internalizing the idea that he Can’t Do School. His parents probably make some “boys will be boys” excuse at conferences. Then he finally gets the diagnosis and gets put on meds. My sense is that Hillerska only cares that his meds don’t make him disruptive in class. They probably don’t care about teaching him alternative study methods that actually work for him, or creating an environment where he feels empowered to use accommodations. And as folks who are knowledgeable with ADHD know, if you get behind in school like that, it takes more than meds to catch you up and help you feel empowered in class. When we see Vincent after his national exams, he’s drawing dicks in the dirt, because he can only envision himself as the class clown who fails academically. He says the academics don’t matter as a self-soothing technique. He’s become mean—mean in a “funny” way—as a way of feeling like he has a “thing” at school. And yes, Vincent will probably be “fine,” he will remain rich and go big game hunting and marry a trophy wife into adulthood or whatever. Again, he sucks! That does not change the fact that Hillerska failed him and his neurodivergences, and that he could actually have a sense of real efficacy and self-compassion for himself as a disabled person instead of just being “fine.” Daddy I don’t love him. But Daddy I would like him to feel empowered to use his extended time on tests. Daddy I would like someone to teach Vincent the pomodoro method as a study skill.

Secondary characters shouldn’t have to be wilmon shippers to be likable to fandom. It throws me out of a fic or a headcanon when secondary characters only are there to support Wilmon being the cutest soulmates ever. I don’t mean when someone like Felice offers a supportive comment to them as a couple, or occasionally thinks they’ve done something cute. I mean when characters sound exactly like shippers in fandom, with similar talking points, and when we as readers of the fic are supposed to sympathize with them because they sound exactly like us. People… don’t talk about friends and family and classmates the same way they talk about fictional blorbos.

YR does not share a universe with RWRB. This idea was more widespread in the old days of fandom, so this Contrary Opinion feels more vintage. As far as what I do think it could share a universe with, I vote for Tana French’s Dublin Murder Squad novels, for the class conflict and the incredibly complex characterization. I would also say Ashley Herring Blake’s Girl Made of Stars has a lot in common with YR in terms of how it approaches trauma and family relationships.

The intimacy scenes in season 3 (especially the big one) made me feel kind of uncomfortable, actually. Something about the changes to directing style and how they were filmed. I don’t really want to explain this one right now but maybe I will someday. So this one is also there for folks who viscerally felt that too.

[universallydestinytaco]

The Little Smiling Mermaid PREVIEW

As I promised, a preview excerpt of my Charpim fanfic which will drop May 20th! (^o^) Also after reading the fic, PLEASE give me your feedback in the replies/reblogs, Thank you! 💗💛

Charlie couldn’t sleep on nights like this when the moon was big and bright, something about it made him want to stand outside by the ocean, drink from his flask and play his ocarina. As he played his beloved instrument he fondly recalled a childhood memory of his own when he was about 6 or 7, wearing a cape and an old hat Mr. Boss wore while armed with a little wooden sword, gallivanting around the beach while loudly-and-proudly proclaiming he was King of the Pirates. Little Charlie didn’t have much friends at that time but what he would do was based on one of Mr. Boss’ bedtime stories: writing mercritter runes in the sand and coming back later to see the response. Charlie did exactly that and eagerly waited for the response while distracting himself best he could fighting imaginary monsters and bad guys. Lo and behold Charlie always got a response, while in hindsight Charlie figured it could have been possible that someone, perhaps even Mr. Boss was playing along writing the responses in runes, he couldn’t shake off the magical sensation he got from the afternoon ritual. If it really was a mercritter responding to him this whole time he’d be over the moon.

......

Alan followed Glep and Pim back to the grotto and was astonished at all the "land things" Pim secretly acquired and hidden away for so long, how did he manage to hide it all for so long without Amy tattling on him for kicks? He hid behind a pair of slightly-cracked goggles and inspected upon the mischievous twosome. Pim was combing his hair with a "dinglehopper" as Glep played with a golden bangle, the latter noticed the bittersweet-sad expression on Pim's face and asked: "Yaskawaboyo? (You okay man)?" Alan wondered if Pim was starting to get homesick, (un)surprisingly that wasn't the exact reason why the usually excited mercritter was so somber despite freeing himself. "...Maybe he's right, what if there is something wrong with me?" said Pim, who then seconds after shook his head in disgust at his father's hatred of the surface getting to him. "I just don't see why a world that makes such wonderful things could be so bad?" Pim felt strong and long-bottled up emotions gushing out, he stimmed a little bit by twirling the dinglehopper but that wouldn't do. Whenever Pim had to share his feelings he would sing and dance it all way much to the annoyance of his siblings, but after a period of masking, Pim had to share exactly how he felt.

"Look at this stuff, isn't it neat? Wouldn't you think my collection's complete? Wouldn't you think I'm the boy...the boy who has everything?" Pim gasped in excitement and opened his arms wide while slowly spinning, "Look at this trove, treasures untold, how many wonders can one cavern hold?" quickly turning to Glep with his hands on his hips and sashay-ing with his hair swaying in the water, "Sure! He's got everythiiing~!" Pim swam around observing his collection with Glep following as he continued:

I've got gadgets and gizmos a-plenty...I've got whozits and whatzits galore~"

Opening up a mustache-care box, jokingly offering to Glep: "You want thingamabobs? I've got twenty!" The two shared a little laugh before Pim solemnly closed it. "But who cares? No big deal....." Looking upwards, those longing words sweetly slipped out of his lips: "I want moooooore~"

"I wanna be where the people are-" Pim gently held Glep's fins and twirled around, "I wanna see, wanna see them dancin'~ Walking around on those.... what do you call 'em? Oh!" He playfully teased Glep's fins as the guppy squeaked. "Feet!"

Alan thought to himself: "This is the most elaborate venting I ever witnessed."

"Flippin' your fins, you don't get too far Legs are required for jumping, dancing..." Pim swayed his hips emulating how one with legs can walk on ground: "Strolling along down a... what's that word again?"

Glep playfully answered: "Skeewaboyo (Street)!" Pim smiled and swam up dramatically above where the light was shining through the grotto: "Up where they waaaalk, up where they ruuuun...up where they stay all day in the suuuuun!! Wanderin' free, wish I could be.... Part of that wooooorld~" Continuing with his acrobatics, "What would I give? If I could liiiive out of these waaaaters? What would I pay to spend a daaaay-" He sunk down and rolled around with a big smile on his face imagining what would it be like, in his own words: "-warm oooon the saaaand?" He then turned on his stomach with a humorously pouty look, "Bet'cha on land they understand, bet they don't...reprimand their soooons~" Pim almost relucantly called himself one of King Pimling's daughters up until realizing he wasn't in Meeplantica anymore, he then smiled while gazing upwards, "Bright young men, sick of swimmin'..." He lifted himself up again with a more hopeful and triumphant demeanor: "Ready to staaaaaaand AAAAAAND-" Observing a gilded storybook with a childlike energy he flipped around the pretty illustrations, "Ready to know what the people know! Ask 'em my questions and get some answers!" He came across one such illustration depicting Prince Charming and Fair Maiden cozening up by the fireplace, holding it up and longingly placing his stubby pink fingers on the painted flame, "What's a fire and why does it...What's the word?" He closed the book and held it to his chest, holding his head back and belting out: "Buuuuurn!!" Pim let go of the book, spinning upwards once again and reaching out to the light: "When's it my tuuuurn? Wouldn't I looooove, love to explore that shore up aaaaaabooooooove?" His octave raised at that last word he sang out...then his whimsy melted into wistful melancholy, for there wasn't any way he could achieve his lifelong dream, so he sank back down with a heavy heart..."Out of the sea....wish I could be...." As Glep sadly witnessed Pim floating back down on the sandy ground, he couldn't help but look back up at the light one more time: "Part of that....woooooorld..."

[hotchfiles]

Lari, I apologize in advance, but I really want to add to the discussion of writers supporting writers, because it makes my blood boil sometimes, lol, and I'm sorry if this gets long, and if i sound like a bitch but....

Okay, first off, interaction is important, period! Doesn't matter if you have no followers, if you are a writer with a few followers, or a writer with a lot of followers interaction is important, in every sense! And writers with a lot of followers should be VERY aware of that, because once upon a time, they were a smaller blog too, wishing for people to interact with their works.

Writers especially feed on the interaction, and especially seeing people's thoughts and opinions on their works, and that's where the comments and reblogs come into play!

One thing, that apparently, some big blogs seem to either forget, or not give a sh*t about anymore, because they are just too big now. People are interacting with their works, so they've made it, right? Wrong, because once again, your readers, and their interaction with your works made you big! So, instead of being high and mighty, return the favor by boosting the works you liked reading, written by smaller blogs! (Side note, I'm not hating on anyone, calling anyone out specifically, or etc. But I was a writer in another fandom once, and it was much the same, and it grated on my nerves then, and it's grating on my nerves now)

I was a writer that only used to like, when I was running my old blog, but on this one, reblog, reblog, reblog. Doesn't matter that I don't have a huge number of followers that can benefit from recs, I'm supporting the writer, and to me, that's the most important.

On the mutuals matter, I think you said it right. My works might not be my mutuals cup of tea, or theirs might not be mine. One thing i wanna add here, even if I have mutuals, who's works I don't read because x, y, z, every once in a while I'd reblog a work of theirs and be like "check out this person's works, they write great (character) fics". To me that's just a way to boost your moots, and who knows, maybe someone that follows you actually likes their works.

On indirectly being asked to read their stuff, I think there's nothing wrong with that, BUT! Like you said, if I'm going to support you, I'd expect you to support me too. It's not hard. I myself have asked others to read my works (on my old blog), but I've made sure to interact with them via asks, read and interact with their works, before and after asking! And not because I want to be transactional or anything, but because I genuinely enjoy their works, and asking them to read mine, yes, it might boost me up, but i just want to hear what some of my favorite writers think about something I've written. Later, those same people became my mutuals and I loved that we lifted each other up!

Finally, if some people aren't comfortable interacting, that's completely and totally fine!  What I wrote is for the writers, that honestly should know how tumblr and the community works, well enough to know that boosting people and interacting with people makes for a greater overall experience!

And to the anon that started this whole thing (if they are even reading this, lol), continue being supportive and interesting with the blogs you love, and the works you enjoy! If you still want to read the works of the writers you talked about, be a silent reader, lol. Like you said, they're doing fine! Devote your time and energy and interact with the people that will support you back, and are sweet and kind to you! And, be the person you are now, supportive, because it seems some writers tend to lose sight of where they came from when they grow, and to the ones that don't, you rock!

Again, I'm so sorry for this being so long, lol🥴 (also, if I'm being too bitchy, feel free to ignore and delete this, lol)

i dont even have anything to add you said it perfectly

i love that you mentioned the transaction part because YEAH its not about being a transaction or anything of the sort, its about being reciprocal, and treating others works like you want yours to be treated

i genuinely love reading and helping so i dont mind at all when people ask for me to do that, i just feel like that if you enjoy either my fics enough for that, i should be seeing you reblogging or commenting my fics and the people (really, people, it happens quite frequently) i mentioned just never ever ever reblogged or commented on any of it 😭

i honestly thought i was exaggerating it but it seems its been happening to a lot of writers so

please, writers (especially if you complain about comments and reblogs)

be reciprocal

[kataang-dungeon]

Kataang Smut Weekend 2023

It’s coming soon!!!

What is?

Kataang Smut Weekend! An 18+ event for celebrating Kataang and the sexy shenanigans they get into post-ATLA~

Oh? when is it?

November 10-12. That’s 5.5 weeks from the time this is posted!

Sounds like fun! Are there prompts?

That’s where you came in! Sidebar: how many times can I work the word ‘come’ into this post? You voted on the prompts, and the results are in. Just kidding, you didn't. This is the year of the dom and we are not taking requests.

Here are your Kataang Smut Weekend 2023 Prompts:

November 10th: Wait

With topic suggestions

-Edging

-Teasing

-First Time

November 11th: Play

With topic suggestions

-Toys

-Bending

-Breath Play

November 12th: Work

With topic suggestions

-Pregnancy/Labor

-Rough

-The Avatar State

What kind of content can I make?

Whatever you’re into! Could be art, fic, edits, meta, anything! Just be sure to keep in mind tumblr’s nsfw policies and try to leave the sexy stuff under a cut or censor visuals where it’s necessary. We don’t want your brilliant hard work kept from being shared!

How explicit does it have to be?

If you’re more of a fade-to-black or lime-over-lemon kind of person, we want you here, too! Any level of Kataang spice, shown or implied, is more than welcome in these parts.

What about too explicit?

There’s very little we won’t reblog. But if unsure, you can check out our guidelines (found in our description if on mobile), or feel free to send us an ask!

How should I tag my work?

Tag as your heart directs, but the best way to ensure we see your post is to tag us @kataang-dungeon. We will also be checking the tag “#kataang smut weekend 2023,” and of course content warnings are recommended.

Is it okay if I post late?

Yes! Just don’t forget to @ us, as we may not be checking the tags at that time!

Can I only post on tumblr?

You can absolutely post your work on other platforms! In fact, some platforms are more lenient with explicit works, so if you have a more explicit version of your work that you feel you can’t post onto tumblr, we encourage you to post that version elsewhere and provide a link here for people to view!

I wanna contribute, but I think I’d rather do it anonymously.

Hey, we have options for you, too! You can

submit your works on anon directly to this blog for us to post! Check out the guidelines there for more info :3

I STILL HAVE QUESTIONS

Feel free to send us an ask!

Kataangers, please reblog to spread the word, as we are so excited to see what you come up with! Happy creating!

[bonny-kookoo]

hi bonny first off i wanna say i love your fics. as a black reader i dont feel unsafe at the moment and would really love to stick around cuz your writing is compelling.

while i do believe fic is a free for all, i do think a police fic would attract a certain demographic into your audience making it unwelcoming to your poc readers.

you already have someone reblogging under the other anons post spouting dog whistles.

personally i’d have no problem with a “police” fic IF it wasnt taking inspiration from the CURRENT JUSTICE SYSTEM AND POLICING OF TODAY.

you could write about how you’d see crime handled in a way thats makes sure that perpetrators get to court alive to have a fair trial or even preventative measures within the community jungkook could take to ensure that someone never feels the need to turn to crime.

it could be cool to visualize jungkook as like a community policer. they usually live in the neighborhood and work with their neighbors to watch out for each other. you could create your own system of how they handle punishment.

you could have a tasks force but they dont use guns. and they dont use excessive force.

they could try deescalation tactics like talking.

you could have jungkook on a crime scene making sure that ALL evidence is collected, briberies arent happening, and he’s checking his peers when they might have messed up.

you could include advanced futuristic technology that makes sure that a suspect is being rightfully accused to avoid false accusations.

because the system is under such careful surveillance unlike OUR CURRENT SYSTEM, you could write about how heinous crimes are punishable by death or maybe even exile to some other planet

jungkook could be seen doing charity drives like handing food to the homeless and back to school/supply handouts.

he could even be featured playing with youth in the community. like basketball on the court or sitting down and talking to them to see if things are good at school and home.

there’s ways to showcase him as an actual protector of citizens.

you could show him outside work too being a pillar, like maybe he goes to city hall meeting and advocates for social changes. like transportation, shelters, and livable wages.

imagining a better tomorrow where you have the creative freedom to imagine how you’d go about changing the system could be more FUN creatively cuz the possibilities are endless rather than having him abuse his power and hurt people.

hope that helps💜

I mean, yeah, that would've been my actual goal, I didn't think people would feel like I would write it in a way that would make people feel upset :/ That's why I wanted to maybe make it a 'fantasy'-esque hybrid or Alien fic to kind of.. take away the 'reality' connection from it? I don't know.

I write fics to give people a way to escape the troubles they have daily, so they can daydream about a world where things are better, true love is a thing, and happy endings are the norm. I know I'm not always hitting the nail with that attempt, clearly, if people instantly thought that I would not do well in creating an Alternate Universe where things would be better. I don't know. I'm currently feeling a little weird about everything I wrote now, like, I'm questioning what exactly caused it. Was it the way I wrote my hybrid fics? Or how I buit my Alien universes? Did I unintentionally make people feel unwelcome/uncomfortable? I don't know anymore.

I try to not make specifics about skin color/hair length/eye color or whatnot in my fics to try and keep it open as possible, and I know I don't do that well sometimes, since there's a limit to what I can properly write- which is why I don't write tall characters, male readers, or specifically poc's- because I cannot and will never be able to properly portray that. I'm not a professional writer, this is just a hobby, and maybe I need to, I don't know, educate myself more to make sure that in the future, my works don't make anyone feel excluded or upset in general. I'm sorry if that was the case in any of my works.

[psylunari]

About time I introduce myself

TL;DR Luna's nonsense about herself. Feel free to reblog!

If you're looking for my original posts or my fics:

The tags are #psyluna.txt (for fandom info posts, writing tips, and posts like this one it's the first but you get the idea) and #psyluna.fic (for fanfiction). #psyluna.ask is for ask games and answers. #psyluna.png is for image edits, art, and memes.

The tag for when I get fanart is #I GOT ART. Bless all the people who have ever made something for me, I would like to give you the entire planet, but I'm poor, and taking care of a planet is too much work. So all I can give you is more fanfiction.

If I translate something that's not my work, the tag is #translation I just did.

From lurker to occasional reblogger to regular shitposter to… I don't know. The sky is the limit. Nice to meet you! I created this account in 2019, together with my return to posting fanfiction. I wrote fanfiction on again, then off again, for years, since I first picked it up at the fresh age of ten.

I was never a people person, nor did life make me a public figure, thank goodness. I'm not made for the spotlight, so I didn't see a point in blogging here myself. Anyway. I wanna do it now. Buckle up.

My name: the IRL one is so lame that I won't tell you. Call me psy, luna, or psyluna, as you wish. It fits me better.

My age: I was born in 1995, just so that I don't have to update this yearly.

Pronouns: I go by she/her. Gender is a myth. So is being internet famous.

My home country: I hail from not-so-distant, not-so-unknown Brazil.

Languages I speak: English is my second language (Portuguese is my first), and as per local standards, I can speak and write in English quite well. Before you ask, I write fanfiction in Portuguese and translate later, for reasons I'll disclose if anyone asks. I had basic Spanish in school and can still read/listen to it okay, can't write/speak it anymore. Japanese is my hobby language of choice. I plan on becoming more proficient if everything goes right.

My writing: it was always my favorite way to express myself. It's how I organize my thoughts and communicate with the world. Consequently, I wrote lots and lots all my life, even if not fanfiction, just personal vents. I got better in speaking out loud as I became more confident, less self-loathing, and ran out of fucks to give.

Should you talk to me: I enjoy chatting more than I enjoy people. It's not that I don't like people… Okay, let's not lie here. People are troublesome, even myself. I'll willingly talk to people who talk to me, and even start conversations at times, but getting attached and forming bonds isn't a default expectation. That said, if you wanna talk to me, please do.

Miscellaneous: I was somewhat raised by the 2000s internet. Meaning, I was there for a lot of memes and chaos, too. I miss some things and not others.

You won't see me engage with drama and discourse a lot. I keep many personal opinions private or restricted to close friends, as one should separate personal life from public life. To be honest, no one cares much what I think (again, thank goodness). Won't ever bother putting up a DNI list.

I usually follow back. If your blog is blank (as in you don't reblog anything), I might follow back if I know who you are.

Among other artsy things I like doing: drawing (not too well), singing (okay to well), playing a few instruments (okayish), typesetting (pretty well, actually). If cooking counts, then cooking.

My fandoms: I've been obsessed with lots of things along the years. For every phase, I bookmarked lots of fanart and wrote a bit of fic. My interests come and go. They're mostly anime/animated series and video games. I'm also a “mild kpopper” and a dormant rock/metal enthusiast.

My favorite characters: too many to count. They mostly fit the “well-meaning but kind of a jerk” archetype. They don't have to be morally gray, but can be. I don't vibe with stupid characters a lot. My favorite works of fiction are a bit or very tragic. I love bishounen/bishoujo in character design. My ships are based on if I like the chemistry, not much on the characters' genders.

As for my writing strengths: I'm good at putting one word in front of another and finding mistakes. That's the gist of it. Many writers struggle with low productivity and procrastination, and that isn't my curse, fortunately. I can work with a preexisting idea and propose solutions, maybe even add a thing or two. I'm also very critical of things and quick at noticing patterns.

As for my writing weaknesses: I don't think my ideas are too innovative, and while that doesn't matter a lot in the bigger picture, it makes me a little sad. I recycle ideas and themes a lot and hope no one notices. Whenever I'm forced to create, instead of working with preexisting things, I go ughhhh. I used to joke about how I had one idea worth writing every six months. It's been different these days, and I took notes of all nice ideas I've been having, but it's pretty recent. I'm also bad with prompts I don't click with.

The rest like prose, characterization, style, etc. is up for debate, and to some degree, a matter of personal taste. I like to think I can adapt to the needs of whatever I'm writing.

Do you write original fiction? Yes! I'm just not very far into them. I won't disclose much about it, though. Not now, at least. Some are more slice-of-lifey, others are more fantasy-like.

You can find my compiled social media and writing profiles in this carrd. If you don't feel like clicking on the carrd, here are the fic sites:

Archive Of Our Own (most up-to-date, missing older works and personal vents)

Fanfiction dot net (not very up-to-date because I hate this website)

+Fiction, formerly Nyah! Fanfiction (in Portuguese only, has lots of old stuff and vents)

I have a Wattpad account with nothing posted.

I'm used to talking about myself, since nine times out of 10 I'll be brooding in the corner and people get curious. I don't know why exactly that is. Hope you could get to know me better!

[sockatoothewafflebird]

✨🪐🍁🪶🐦‍⬛🪶🍁🪐✨

here's an intro post for my blog! and me i guess... i'll edit this portion with my current main interests and/or things im doing that might affect the blog :)

currently hyperfixated on minecraft story mode. save me jesstra augebhrd

also starting to watch a playthrough of Until Then! no spoilers please! i'll probably talk about it alot when im finished so beware of that.. haha... anyway

without further ado...!

hiii it's meeeee

hiya! i'm sockatoo the wafflebird! call me sockatoo, waffles, or robin if youre like a really really close friend of mine. i use any pronouns under the sun, and i'd prefer if you just use she/he/they interchangeably at your leisure. but any and i mean any is fine. come up with your own if you'd like lmao.

i am a gender-weird lesbian. dont rlly fw that gender shit csuse gender is a SCAM made by bathroom companies to sell more bathrooms. and um also girls,,,.,, im so sapphic help me.....

i am very active on here! i reblog things, talk about things, post doodles/writing i do, or maybe even the elusive ~fanfiction~ (spooky noises ooOooOooOoOo)... also did i mention autism? i should probably mention that

i also run @sentient-freezer-waffle and @sayonika-brainrot if thats anything lmao. oh and here's my ao3 page in case you wanna read what i write :]

the fandoms i'm in and my blog tags are under the cut cause there's a lot of them,,, feel free to talk to me about literally any of them and i will gladly chat with you!!! keep in mind i'm a minor (high school age) but other than that anything goes!!

🪐fandoms i'm in🪐

the amazing digital circus

the owl house (save me lumity.... lumity save me...)

minecraft

minecraft story mode

raggedy ann and andy (specifically that one animated musical)

ramshackle

class of '09

over the garden wall

steven universe

bluey

wings of fire (havent read the last book yet pls dont spoil 😭)

splatoon

undertale/deltarune

legend of zelda breath of the wild/tears of the kingdom

omori

murder drones

Arcane (LoL show on netflix)

five nights at freddy's (pretty much all of the games)

cult of the lamb

animal crossing (ive only played new horizons but i love the whole franchise)

doki doki lesbians literature club

dungeon meshi/delicious in dungeon

furry, kind of? my sona is a bird so i guess it counts

fanfiction/fandom culture in general. i've been roped in since middle school and you can pry my writing out of my cold dead hands

🪶blog tags🪶

any frequent tags i use :)

#cool art- any art i reblog.

#waffles art- any art that I drew!

#waffles fave- something i wanna look at or save for later.

#waffles word wall- really long text posts. this includes analyses or just me yapping for too long lol.

#waffles thoughts- shorter text posts/goofy shit i think.

#waffles writing- anything i wrote! this includes links to fics and/or snippets of things i write. or poetry, or short stories, etc etc etc the list goes on.

#serious talk- anything i deem to be a heavy or serious topic, like politics. i suggest filtering this one out if you just want the goofy stuff from me.

#important- anything i think people should see.

#genderpost- me being genderqueer or talking about being genderqueer.

#lesbianpost- me being gay or talking about being gay. mostly being gay actually.

#autismpost- me being autistic or talking about being autistic.

🪿🦆🐦‍⬛🦜🐓🦃🦤🦩🐦‍🔥🕊️🦅🐥🦉🪽BIRDS!!!! thats it ok byeeeee

[vvh0adie]

can i just say that any writing done for free on the internet is not up for professional publishing critique

my thing is: unless i go on your blog and see the content you reblog/make pertains to some nasty heinous shit

(incest/race play/pedophilia/beastiality; meaning this is who you are as a legit person and you actively promote it in positivity)

then i go check your masterlist and its sewn into the fabric of your fics, imma side eye you, report, and block.

but lets be honest i would hope ppl just report/block during the first scroll cuz i don’t know why we’d want those type of people on tumblr anyway. tho we’re not here to discuss that further and definitely not another time. if you know you’re into the shit i listed above FOR REAL, get the fuck off my blog and play in traffic.

but if someone writes something you don’t like or if you think their writing isn’t up to gramatical/literary standard, don’t get in the fucking comments or asks to tell us that. we do this shit for fun. this isn’t fucking goodreads.

ALSO DONT REBLOG FICS YOU DIDNT ENJOY AND RATE THEM AND LEAVE BAD REVIEWS IN THE FUCKING POST. WE CAN SEE THAT SHIT!!! THIS GOES FOR TUMBLR, AO3, AND ANYWHERE ELSE THAT HOST NON-PROFIT FICTION WORKS.

(and no kofi and patreon don’t count as profit, if an author explicitly tells you that you will have access to their wips and early access to fanfiction that will eventually go onto tumblr or ao3. you already knew to expect some hobbyists writing. and you need to know from reading the already free content on their blog, that you like their writing well enough to invest in it. it doesn’t make sense to pay for something you KNEW you already hated. if it just so happens that you’re author sets a standard above what you consider fanfiction writing and it feels more professional, then lucky you…… it’s still not up for critique. that’s just means someone took their craft “serious enough”)

i also see you bitches who put ACTUAL FICS INTO GOODREADS! HAVE YOU LOST YO DAMN MIND CUZ LEMME HELP YOU FIND IT QUICKER THAN MOSES PARTED THE SEA!

when people come to your fic recs, they are most likely not looking for bad fics AT ALL, they’re hoping you’ve done your due diligence in curating a collection of fics you deem amazing so they DONT have to sift thru “bad” fics. you making more work for yourself and other readers.

but some of y’all love to be negative and get wet from twiddling your thumbs on this keyboard to spew unnecessary or productive “criticism”. unless we asks or have a link to a feedback box/google forms, SHUT THE FUCK UP.

social platforms besides goodreads are not here to help reader experience. goodreads is the place to leave reviews for BOOK YOU EITHER PAYED FOR OR THE AUTHOR HAS PROFESSIONALLY PUBLISHED FOR WIDER CONSUMPTION.

i love goodreads too and criticism of books I FIND AT BARNES AND NOBLES😁… because i’m able to avoid things like bad grammar, bad literary skills, poc and queer trauma porn, and other shit i don’t wanna be exposed to.

what i do think is valid, is asking a fic writer to tag properly. i’ve read shit and been blindsided cuz “dead dove” tags weren’t added. i’ve even asked and they’ve made it a point to belittle me. i thought it was a good fic in terms of plot but i wanted to be able to blacklist those words for if they wrote more content. but they completely turned me off due to how they responded so i just never wanted to read more of their work.

i didn’t harass them because frankly it had content i didn’t like (not anything that would make me question their overall morality, unless you count the not tagging, but that’s a bit much). instead i just blocked them and moved on.

there have been times where the grammar in a fic was really bad, the formatting of a fic had huge gaps that made reading difficult, or they didn’t put a cut on their fic. i didn’t contact them, i just blocked them.

so for the love of baby jesus, just block. only when you feel that something DETRIMENTAL is being posted like WHITE SUPREMACIST MANIFESTO or SOCIALLY TABOO type shit is being PROMOTED (they need to actually believe in this shit) in someone’s writing and has built a following of like-minded people, then really the troops so we can deal with it.

but bad grammar or that yandere fics with non-con in is not something to be harassing people over.

(some folks writing language is not their first so they’re learning thru writing or they’re a native speaker who still messes up/has a disability and just because some likes to write/read dark fics doesn’t mean they advocate such acts. plus while it may not be the healthiest, it’s some people’s coping mechanisms and i can’t blame them cuz a good therapist is hard to find and even harder to pay for —at least in the US)

so go read shit you actually like. and if you just so feeeeel it in yo spirit to rate some fics and leave bad reviews download Calibre Library and have at it. it is only seen by you and on your computer. so make that your lil hate diary or whateva🙄

anyway duces. i just had to say a lil sumn cuz i saw one of y’all attacking the homies. i love my moots and i miss the ones that left becuz of the bullshit💜💜💜

also if anyone thinks i left something out or wants to correct something feel free to tag me or reblog💖

[eikaprime]

Doing this as a reblog, rather than a reply, because it's probably gonna get too long for one reply. Feel free to scroll past this: I can't figure out how to put a cut in, and very few people actually care about this. (I expect maybe OP and two others, max.)

I started on fanfiction.net when I was 12, abandoned it, returned to both ffnet and started in AO3 at the age of... 28? I forget. Right now I'm near-exclusively on AO3, but I link things on tumblr and twitter, and I read on both AO3 and ffnet. I have tried and failed to navigate other sites (what drunk insomniac devised Wattpad?) and both of those sites are free to use, reasonably well organized and easy to navigate, and places where people expect to find fanfiction. Those are probably the key points: free, easy to use, expect to find fanfiction there. I'll point out AO3 makes people wait for an account, and tends to have fewer but higher-quality fics; FFNet has some absolute diamonds but also more trolls..

2. Write, write well, and be consistent. I wish I could tell you more how to get readers, but that's what worked for me. If you want to play to things popular in your favorite fandom, fine, but only do what makes you personally happy. Fanfiction, in particular, is an I-love-it venture, and fandom tastes are fickle. In general, though, fics about canon characters will get more views than OC's, because people are in fanfiction usually because they can't get enough of (character). Romance is also well done. Neither of these are strictly necessary.

I write well. It feels like bragging, but I've been writing for fun (and aimed for publication) for a large number of years, and I've been improving near-constantly: trying new things, seeing what works, playing with words and plot and description. At least as important, I update regularly: twice a week, usually. That's too much for a lot of fics, but my chapters are shorter than many peoples (usually under 2000 words). Once a week, or once every two weeks, is better. Longer than that and you risk losing readers because they forgot things and have to reread at least one chapter, if not the whole work, to continue.

3. Is it better to write fanfic, fiction, or both? That depends ENTIRELY on what you're going for. I wrote fanfiction as a teenager, then spent a long time writing original fiction and trying to get published, then back into fanfiction again. There are fanfictions out there better than original works. Fanfiction wouldn't exist without original work. If you write for reasons other than 'I like writing!' and 'I wanna write this to (make myself/someone else happy)!' then you're gonna fail.

4. Okay, we're looking at the financial end here. You may be thinking of Rowling or Stephen King or... if you want original fiction publishing, then your choices are self-publishing (no support, all costs and advertising and profit is on you) or traditional publishing (publisher gets the bulk of the profits, you actually get in stores). Let's say you're going traditional publishing. None of the largest US publishers, with nationwide access, and a good chunk of the medium publishers won't work with anyone who doesn't have a literary agent. Nelson Literary's blog Pub Rants publishes their end-of-year stats every year; 2022 they got over 8000 letters from people wanting representation (down around 5k from 2021) and signed 4 new clients. People who self publish and make as much money as those traditionally published tend to become signed by traditional publishers (and in the news, to boot!). Further, I don't have the statistics in front of me right now, but more than half of published writers cannot support themselves writing.

With that said, you *can* make money off it. I've gained enough notoriety through my fanfic that people are supporting me on patreon to help keep me writing them, and I've had several people commission flashfics from me. Further, by getting out there--fanzines and magazines, working for either fun or money (if someone contacts you, ask for money. If you contact them, and they're for charity or fandom or just for fun, it's for fun) you gain a reputation and visibility and credits for work that greatly increases your odds traditionally. (and the stuff mentioned in question 2 will work for self-publishing, too!)

5. What is my motivation? I enjoy the CRUD out of it. I have stories in my head that wanna be told, characters to play with, people I wanna hear scream (even if the screaming is only in the comments). Everything else comes second.

6. Do long fics do well? Does pineapple go on pizza? Do you prefer the mountains or the oceans? Yeah, you're looking at a whole lot of perspectives, here.

One of my most popular splatoon fics, LUCKY, is part of a series, but it was a stand-alone for over 8 months and people absolutely adored it. All of 5000 words and full of good characterization and relationships and banter and emotions. 309 kudos, 22 bookmarks; for comparison, if you sort the Splatoon AO3 section by kudos, it's on page 5/383 (as of 12/1/23). Several people say it's the best fic in the series. On the other end, my fic SLY 5: THIEVES AND ROBBERS is 108 chapters, 214 kudos, 43 bookmarks, and page 1/22 (number 6) when sorted by kudos.

Or maybe you want to think of another awesome fic, not by me, but LADY KNIGHT VOLANT by BracketyJack is 432k, almost 15000 kudos, 679 bookmarks, and on page 1/197 when sorted by kudos... and three places below a 7000 word oneshot that I've also read and loved, THE SMALL by dirgewithoutmusic.

And all of this leads into...

7. Write well. Try to write better every time you write. Read things you like to read. Try to put things you like reading into the things you write. Like romance? Try writing romance. Like horror? Try writing horror. Trust your interests. Write what you want to read, because odds are very good, if you enjoy something--if you like it, and want to read about it, and have fun with it--someone else will adore it. I can't even start to tell you the number of things I almost didn't put in because I was second-guessing how stupid or silly it was (lore where teeth are good luck charms, a brick joke where one character refuses to believe another is famous, shoe stealing, platonic rare pairs, more) and people have adored it. I have people commissioning oneshots about my throwaway characters I barely cared about because I put in just enough detail to make them desperate for more.

Now if you'll excuse me, I either need to go to bed or continue making my trans/questioning accidental teenage double-agent spy who commenters have determined either suffers from panic attacks or seizures continue having a burping contest with his new captain/greatest enemy while his sentient service animal eats three bags of potato chips. I don't know how I got here but I'm having a blast.

ppl who write fanfiction/fiction, i am asking for your aid!!!

1) which site? ao3? tumblr? something else?

2) how to get readers?

3) is it better to write fanfiction, your own stories, or a mix of both?

4) is it possible to profit on your writing financially?

5) what is your motivation?

6) do long fics do well?

7) what tips do you have for someone starting out?

[mickey-henry]

𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐛𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

summary: bucky’s been flirting with you, but hasn’t taken it further than that. frustrated, you decide to take matters into your own hands.

word count: 2.1k

warnings: occasional swearing (but not much) and frustrating flirting (I’d be melting if it was happening to me). besides that, this fic is pure fluffy fun.

author’s note: hello there! this is my second fic; I’m very excited to post it! I found the header image here, and if you want to listen to the song I reference in this fic, you can listen here. bold text indicates singing, while italicized text refers to inner thoughts. likes, reblogs, messages, replies, and comments are cherished! I hope you like it! 💖

Bucky Barnes is an acquaintance at best. The two of you rarely work together, and with conflicting schedules, you see little of each other around the compound. On a random Friday in April, however, something changes in you. The moment is nothing out of the ordinary. You’re sitting on the couch in the main living space, re-reading one of your favorite books. Bucky has just returned from a mission; you glance up to see his exhausted expression. He catches your eye, winking with a smile, before walking to his room. Your heart flutters and your head freezes at the response. “Oh, no,” you think to yourself. “Maybe that was a one-time thing? I don’t actually like him, right?” Wrong. 

Ever since that night, the mere presence of Bucky Barnes drives you crazy: his stunning blue eyes that squint ever so slightly when he smiles, his adorable nose that crinkles when he laughs, his pillowy lips that you lose yourself in, his  fluffy hair you can’t help but imagine running your fingers through, his scruff speckled jawline that you wish would brush along your hands, cheeks, anywhere really. He occupies your dreams; you can’t escape this man even if you try. Today, he drives you crazier than usual. He stands in the compound's kitchen in a tight black t-shirt, one that leaves nothing to the imagination. This is the first time you’ve seen him in short sleeves, in anything other than tactical gear. You can’t help but stare as he prepares his lunch. The shirt hugs his frame tight, accentuating his biceps that had no right to be that big. “Gosh, he must spend hours in the gym to look like that.” You then notice the vein in his right arm protruding from his skin, tracing it with your eyes. You didn’t think he could become any more beautiful, but here he is before you, incredible as ever. 

You’re pulled from your reverie when Bucky calls your name. “Yeah?” you reply, barely masking the startled stutter in your voice.

“Pass me the salt?”

“Oh! Sure, of course,” you muster, taking a sip of water from the glass in front of you as you hand him the salt shaker. 

“Thanks, doll,” he flirts with a smile, the same one he gave you that night when he got back to the compound. You nearly choke. “Bucky Barnes called me a term of endearment?!? Holy shit.” Your heart swells and you look down at your glass in a desperate attempt to hide the blush creeping its way across your cheeks. “Goodness gracious, I respond this way from a simple word?” You couldn’t imagine how you’d feel if he touched you. 

It didn’t take long to find out. The following day, you stand in the kitchen prepping your lunch, singing softly along to the song playing from your phone. Bucky appears soon after. He stands close to you for a moment, closer than necessary, but of course you don’t mind. He has just showered; his cologne lingers in the air, intoxicating you. Somehow, you keep singing along, showing no sign that your mind is elsewhere. 

“Ugh, he smells amazing. This man has too much power over me; this is ridiculous! I don’t even remember what I was doing—”

“You have a beautiful voice,” he compliments.

“Thank you, Bucky,” you softly reply, your heart racing at his praise.

“Let me get by you real fast, doll,” he says, moving to walk behind you. 

“There he goes again with the pet name. My god, could this get any worse—” 

He places his hands gently on your hips as he moves beside you. Electricity travels through your whole body; you’re internally screaming at his touch. His hands feel better than you imagined. Even though the contact lasts only a moment, the effects of his touch linger after, leaving you speechless. 

You hear a musical chuckle from the man behind you. “Is he teasing me? It sure feels like it,” you wonder. There is no way that he can’t see the effect he has on you. Before you can even formulate another thought, he touches you again as he moves back to the other side of you. “That was definitely on purpose; certainly he wouldn’t do this by accident. Right?”

Your eyes linger as he finishes putting together his lunch. He catches your gaze and smiles. “See you later, sweetheart,” he says with a wink before leaving the room. “Okay, that answers my question; that was very intentional. What am I going to do with myself?”

You don’t know how much longer you can take his teasing. Throughout the week, he ups his antics, calling you pet names more than your own, stealing touches whenever he can get away with it, smiling whenever you make eye contact. The tension is insatiable; thoughts of Bucky follow you everywhere. You decide to take matters in your own hands; Bucky did not seem to be planning to make a move anytime soon. If he is going to tease the hell out of you, you might as well get some payback. 

───────────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ─────────────

Tony’s announcement of Friday night karaoke gives you a wicked idea. However, for it to work, you need to recruit help. You know just who to ask. It doesn’t take long to find Sam and Steve; they spent a ton of their free time sparring in the gym. They seem to be at the end of their workout, their movements slow and sloppy, relying on witty retorts to throw off the other. They stop when they notice your arrival. 

“Hey!” Sam says with a smile, hugging you as you approach. You squeeze him tightly, even with his sticky sweat coating his arms. You greet Steve with a hug too.

“What brings you to our neck of the woods?” Steve asks as you let go.

“Can I ask you guys something? And you promise you two won’t laugh at me? Especially if I'm reading this wrong?”

“Of course,” answers Steve. 

“Yeah, for sure,” replies Sam. 

You hesitate for a second, taking a deep breath. “Does Bucky like me? I swear he does. He keeps teasing me, and I don’t know how much longer I can take it. I think I am practically in love with the guy at this point, he’s so beautiful and—”

You stop as the boys exchange glances and begin laughing. 

You cross your arms, hurt. “You said you wouldn’t laugh at me! I can’t control how I feel.”

“No! Wait! We aren’t laughing at you!” Steve says between giggles. 

You furrow your brows. “Then why are you laughing?”

“Bucky’s obsessed with you,” Steve answers after calming his laughter. 

“God, yes, you’re all he talks about nowadays,” Sam adds. 

“What?! He does? Why? Are you shitting me right now? Because that would be really freaking mean—“

“No! Of course not,” Steve insists. “Don’t you see the way he looks at you?”

“And the pet names he gives you?” Sam adds.

“And how he can’t seem to keep his hands to himself lately?” Steve finishes. 

Now you feel stupid for even asking. Of course you noticed all of those things. They were all you ever thought about. “Well, yeah, but maybe he does that with all the girls.”

“What girls?” Sam retorted. “The only women who are here often enough to cross paths with him are you, Natasha, and Wanda. Wanda’s with Vision, as weird as that is, but love is love. Natasha shoots daggers at anyone who looks at her with love in their eyes. That leaves you.”

“Why in the world would he like me? Of all people? He’s out of my league,” you sigh,

Sam’s scoff pulls you from your thoughts. “Bucky? Out of your league? He’s a crazy ex-assassin with emotional issues! If anything, he's out of your league.”

“You’re a catch, why wouldn’t he like you?” Steve assures.

Steve and Sam always know just what to say to make you feel better. “I guess you’re right,” you admit with a defeated grin. 

“So, you know how Bucky feels. What are you going to do about it?” Steve asks. 

“I have an idea, but I need your help.”

“We’re listening.”

You divulge your plan to them. They smile, hyping you up. 

“Dude, I’m so down!” Sam exclaims, clapping his hands in excitement. 

“You think this will work?”

“Definitely,” Steve assures. “This is going to be amazing!”

“Okay then, we’re doing this. Let’s go find Bucky. Time to initiate phase one.”

───────────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ─────────────

Bucky is sitting on the common room couch, flipping through a book when he sees you, Sam, and Steve enter. He exchanges a glance with you, smiling as your eyes light up. The three of you sit down. You’re sitting next to Sam, closer than usual. There’s a brief moment of silence before you speak. “Sam, are you going to karaoke night?”

“Of course! Wouldn’t miss everyone’s drunk-ass singing for the world.”

“Will you be my duet partner?”

This catches Bucky’s attention. He looks up from his book. Why the hell were you asking Sam to sing with you? You normally ask the girls...

“Sure thing, baby. It’ll be a ton of fun!” Sam smiles. 

Baby?! What?! How dare he call you a pet name, his girl, right in front of him? Well, you may not be his girl yet, but Sam knows how he feels about you. What the hell is he thinking?

“Yay! This’ll be so fun!” You hug him, grabbing his hand before continuing, “Wanna practice with me in a bit?”

“Find me when you’re ready, sweetheart,” Sam answers, kissing your knuckle before letting go of your hand. 

Sweetheart?! What the fuck was going on? Did he miss his shot? Would Sam really do that to him? Bucky can barely handle his swirling thoughts. He storms out of the room without looking back. 

Steve can’t help but laugh once Bucky is out of earshot. “That worked a little too well, wouldn’t you say so?”

“That wasn’t too far, was it?” you ask with a worried expression on your face. 

“Nah, don’t worry about it. He’ll just come on even stronger now. He won’t give up on you that easily,” Sam assures you. 

───────────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ─────────────

Bucky can barely contain his anger as you step on the stage with Sam, giggling and smiling at your karaoke partner. Jealousy engulfs him. He can barely listen to the start of the song, ignoring the catchy beat blasting through the speakers. He doesn’t recognize the song, but looks up from his drink when you sing, “Hey Bucky boy, what you doing tonight? I wanna see what you got in store."

He looks right at you. Did she just say Bucky?

Sam echoes, “Hey, hey Bucky!” Well, that answers his question.

“You're giving it your all when you're dancing on me. I want to see if you can give me some more,” you continue, twirling your fingers through your hair.

“Hey, hey Bucky!”

“You can be my man, I can be your girl, and we can pump this jam however you want,” you sing, swaying your hips to the cadence of the lyrics.

“Hey, hey Bucky!”

“Pump it from the side, pump it upside down, or we can pump it from the back and the front,” you wink as you finish the line. Bucky sits up suddenly, crossing his legs, his face turning beet red. You smile, knowing the plan was working. Steve laughs from beside him. He keeps his eyes glued on you as the two of you continue the song, utterly entranced. You look him right in the eye as you end the song, “I want you tonight.”

You saunter over to where he is sitting after high-fiving Sam, confidence filling your chest. “So, what did you think of my performance, Bucky?”

You yelp as he grabs your hips and pulls you down to sit on his lap. His voice deepens, “you’re such a tease, you know that right?”

You laugh. “I’m the tease? Really? You’re the one who just pulled me onto your lap and taunts me with flirtatious remarks and smiles all freaking day. My god Bucky, make a move already—”

He cuts you off, pulling you in for a kiss, his flesh arm grabbing the back of your neck. The team whoops and cheers. 

“Glad you finally made a move, Bucky,” you pant as your lips part from his.

“Best decision I ever made in my life, doll.” Before you can respond, he kisses you again, the karaoke bar fading in the background as you finally embrace the man of your dreams.

[chifuyuzu]

leap of faith — sano manjiro x reader.

word count — 1.3k.

genre — fluff fluff fluff, i love sweet mikey.

contains — cursing, timeskip SPOILERS present, reader is gender neutral.

description — sano manjiro is in love with you, and he realizes how much he loves you at the ass crack of fuckin' dawn.

author's note — hey besties, this is my first published fic here, kinda short but mikey brain rot is heavy. i hope you enjoy this cute fic before i rip your hearts out with some angst in a few days :^) reblogs and likes are always appreciated! and please give me feedback in my inbox! hehe, enjoy.

“it’s late.”

you know. but you still wanted to hear the sound of his voice before bed.

“mm… i missed ya’, is that a crime?” your voice echos through the receiver, the sound of your duvet crinkling in the background as you shift in place. sano manjiro was a busy man. always has been, always will be. being the leader of a biker gang was never easy—let alone some “new age” criminal organization.

you didn’t understand why manjiro persisted to play this game of russian roulette with his life. but it was never your place to overstep, especially since this was his life. it was all he knew, all he understood. you’re not sure what he’s doing, or if he’s even allowed to talk on the phone at this hour, but you still wanted to hear him. just so you know he’s alive and well.

you hear him chuckle, the sound of his feet scurrying against whatever floor his sandals were clacking against. the background noise that accompanied him earlier has dissipated; you realized he probably went outside to hear you better.

“your crime is loving a fool like me way too much. don’t think you’re sane.” he’s right. you’re actually crazy for even pursuing him. there was a lot of push and shove in the beginning, both parties scared of being hurt and getting hurt. but you were always there, even when manjiro went through whatever darkness was eating at his soul.

“crazy for you.”

“corny.”

“you love me.”

a pause. eerie enough to send shivers down your spine. why wasn’t he responding? did something happen? did you smother him too much? is he regretting—

“marry me.”

… not what you were expecting. especially not over the phone.

“sano manjiro, did you just propose over the phone? what kind of shitty rom-com are we in?”

“is that a no?”

“... never said that.” you wanted to marry him. but you wanted him to put that lifestyle behind, for the sake of the family you might have in the future. kids, dogs, cats, etcetera. you wanted him to be in, one hundred percent. but you knew he was too deep into this world to run now—especially since he’s so well-known as the ‘invincible mikey.’ you still longed for a happy home with manjiro, and a normal life.

“maybe you’re right. it’s not my style to ask you this over the phone.”

“try again later. when you’re really ready.”

the gag is, he is ready.

manjiro hurries home, blond locks hidden underneath a thin, black hoodie. he’s shaking, like a pomeranian in the presence of fireworks. his hand meets the left side of his chest, back pressed up against the grey colored wall of your shared apartment as he slides down to sit on the floor. it was four in the morning, and manjiro was about to shit himself.

he gulps, eyes peering around for you, double checking that you were fast asleep before he makes a phone call. his fingers tapped the back of his iphone, impatiently waiting for the other caller to answer. though it was the crack of dawn, he still needed some moral support.

“mikey? fuck you callin’ for at this hour? haven’t heard from you in mo—”

“ken-chin. i’m proposing.”

a loud ‘flop’ rang through the receiver, accompanied by the bedsheets seemingly slipping underneath draken’s feet. it was a huge bomb to drop, especially when the duo has been separated for months on end. manjiro hears more shuffling, followed by a few curses. “you’re fucking lying. the one you’ve been one since—?”

“yeah. i’m crazy as hell. but i love them. head over heels. i’m a goddamn simp.”

“why the hell am i the first to know, man?”

“you’re m’best friend, even if i need to stay away from you. and, also… you’re not the first to know. i asked them already.”

“you WHAT? don’t fuckin’ tell me you did it some dumb way like over the pho— you did. you’re impulsive enough to do it like that, too.” regardless of how long it’s been, draken still knows and understands manjiro like nothing ever happened.

“yeah… not romantic. but i can’t see myself with anyone else. i trust no one else. but i… am…”

“scared? man, you’re the head of a criminal organization. ‘course you’re scared. you don’t want the love of your life… to get hurt…” his voice trails off and manjiro’s heart tenses even more. the memories of the past still felt fresh. all the people they lost in tokyo manji… could never be replaced. not in a million years.

but the living must live.

“i love y/n. never felt like this before. i’d quit everything. but i would have to make sure they’re safe and whatever future we have together is secure. i know i promised takemichi that i’d protect everyone and that future he worked so hard to save… but what about mine?”

manjiro really did sacrifice everything for his friends. being the type of person who carries everyone else’s burdens takes a toll on his mental. he felt selfish for wanting to leave it all behind. but maybe being selfish was beneficial once in a while.

“listen—”

“do you think i’m stupid?”

“mikey. you’re not stupid,” draken sighs, shuffling again in place. “you just want to love someone and be loved in return. nothin’ stupid about that. what is stupid though, is you proposing over the damn phone.”

he’s not wrong. it was a spur of the moment decision that could drastically change his life forever. but with you, he doesn’t care. as long as you’re his, forever.

“how do you think i should do it?”

“well. i guess, tell me some sappy shit. how do you feel about them, and whatnot.”

“i don’t think i could ever imagine me with anyone else. a lot of people have tried to grab my attention but i only have eyes for y/n. sometimes when shit gets real hard…” manjiro takes a deep sigh, fingers threading through his hair, tilting back the hood to let it fall onto his back. “i think of y/n and i remember that even in this shit world, someone is here for me. someone cares about me. they make me feel like i’m not alone anymore.

i have dreams ‘bout us, y’know? me and y/n… kids running around. a little mikey clone. pissin’ them off because we want little flags on our meals. going to the park and letting kids be kids. maybe i’ll teach ‘em at a dojo like gramps did for me and my siblings. maybe i’ll teach ‘em about bikes—with your help, of course.”

draken laughs, letting his friend continue his little speech as he gets comfortable in bed again. don’t think i’ve ever seen mikey like this, ever, draken muses.

“man, we can own a whole zoo if we wanted. chifuyu could hook us up, in secret, of course. still have to protect everyone,” manjiro is grinning from ear to ear, head resting against the wall. “i wanna grow old with them. honestly, i didn’t think i’d make it to my twenties. more so, i didn’t want to live past twenty-something. but now… things are different. wanna be old and gray. see grandkids terrorize our children. die together.”

the tension in manjiro’s chest has faded away, only left with warmth that only you could bring him. his free hand reaches into his pocket to fumble with a small box, snapping it open to reveal the engagement ring his grandfather handed down to him.

he wasn’t the marrying type. but for you, he was.

“that all? you sound good like that, man. make an exception and let us come to the wedding.”

manjiro wants that more than anything. his friends, you... all safe. all happy. but again, the fear creeps up. he doesn’t know what to do with himself if any of you get hurt.

“... how do i tell y/n that?”

“you already have.” your voice makes him jump, knocking the velvet box out of his fingers and onto the hardwood floor. his face pales, followed by a huge lump forming at his throat when he sees your figure emerge from your shared bedroom.

“i-uh… i thought you were a-asleep.” manjiro mumbles, earning a huge laugh from draken on the other side. he hears him say something along the lines of ‘my cue to leave. good luck. send me an invite.’

“i was waiting for you.” 

he’s sweating now, a small bead forming at the base of his neck. his phone is now at his side, the screen flashing from draken’s caller id to the lockscreen photo of you on your first date together, a few years back. your eyes zone into the box, though.

“i was going to do this… better. god, i fucked up, huh?”

you’re laughing now, rubbing your tired eyes before you join him near the wall, picking up the box. “what makes you think that, dummy?”

now he’s confused. you wanted him to ask when he was serious, but in his head, serious meant rose petals, candles, someone singing celine dion in the distance.

without a word, you slip the ring onto its appropriate finger, holding up to the small rays of sunlight that peaked through the window from the approaching sunrise. manjiro’s hands fly up to your face, holding his whole world in his hands. his eyes are shiny, on the brink of tears. you nudge your noses together, foreheads connecting tenderly. your hands hooked onto the hem of his hoodie, bringing his frame closer as you whisper a soft ‘yes.’

“yes?”

“yes, i’ll marry you.”

manjiro’s lips curl up into the silliest grin you’ve ever seen him sport, before he presses a soft kiss to your lips. now he’s kissing you quite desperately. as if he’s trying to make sure you’re real, that this isn’t a dream. you feel his words vibrate against your lips, “gonna make you so happy, i promise. i love you. i love you so, so much.”

“forevermore.”

“forever yours.”

[ellewords]

atsumu was like the sun. he shined and glowed and warmed people just by being near them. without a single thought, he was able to brighten the mood in ways that no one else could. even on his darker days or when his being felt too harsh, he left an impact that made everyone long for more. you couldn’t always see him, couldn’t always feel his presence, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t there somehow, unseen but known.

by association, that sort of made you the moon. you could shine brightly and leave a warm glow and comfort others when they felt like they were in the dark. but all of that wasn’t possible without the sun. without atsumu.

people didn’t know you unless you were by atsumu’s side. they didn’t spare you a glance until atsumu brought attention to you. but you didn’t mind. all you wanted was to have him by your side, to support you when you couldn’t hold yourself up, to be brilliant beside him even if you would never outshine him. you were content in your current situation.

so why did it hurt so much seeing him continue to shine? why did his warmth suddenly feel so cold? why couldn’t you be as bright as him all on your own?

or, atsumu will always be the sun, you always the moon. maybe now it’s time to accept that you’re nothing without him so you can finally shine for yourself.

-💛

—  from elle ! 💛anon you never miss, do you? aaaa this was so good it lived in my head rent free ever since i first read it >_< i just had to write an addition to this for the way you made my heart actually ache. i hope i did your drabble justice :<< this just hit a lil too close to home ngl thank you for reading everyone, i hope you like this! reblogs are appreciated, they help a ton <3

fic notes / warnings : timeskip!miya atsumu x gn!reader, angst, fluff (-ish? kinda) ending, oneshot, wc: ~1.52k (!! my longest margins addition so far omg)

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

atsumu has a gravitational pull, that much has always been clear to you and everyone else; a pull so strong that you can’t help but orbit around him. every room he walks into, he commands the attention of everyone present. one can’t help but simply be drawn to him — with his bright smiles, boisterous laughs, and larger than life movements. it’s no wonder why everything seems to bend to his will, how the universe seems to revolve around him. 

you’ve moved around him for as long as you can remember, every now and then, he lets you borrow his light. the world has associated you with him and you don’t blame anyone one bit. 

his name has always come first. setter for the inarizaki volleyball team, miya atsumu. invited to the all-japan youth intensive training camp, miya atsumu. captain of the inarizaki volleyball team, miya atsumu. setter for division one volleyball team, the msby black jackals, miya atsumu.  

meanwhile, yours is treated as an afterthought, an attachment, a footnote in the awe-inspiring narrative of his life. you’re known as his childhood friend. his best friend, the one who cheers him on from the stands in every single one of his games. alleged significant other, according to whispers in the hallway and to the tabloids and paparazzi. his eventual confirmed significant other, ln yn. 

atsumu and who’s that with him? atsumu and his best friend. atsumu and his significant other. atsumu, oh, and yn’s here too. it’s always atsumu before yn; his name before yours. sometimes, you wonder if anyone would know your name if he hadn’t started dating you.    

you walk behind atsumu, not beside him, when you enter a room. fingertips loosely intertwined with his, you attempt to keep your head up as atsumu introduces you around. they spare you a quick “hi”, before beginning a conversation with your sun. 

though he’s not really your sun, is he? you’ve always had to share him with everyone else. everyone needs a little sunshine in their life, a little warmth; his brilliance is dazzling, like everyone else, you revelled in his glow. 

the world has always associated you with him, but it never worked the other way around. atsumu has always shined on his own; you needed him to have light for yourself. 

~

no one blames the sun for burning a little too bright; it’s simply the way it is. similarly, you’ve never blamed atsumu for being the way he is. he doesn’t know, didn’t mean to do it in the first place. atsumu has always existed for himself, lived life the way he sees fit.

you can’t blame him, no matter how much you wanted to. even if you forced yourself to. 

staring at the sun is fascinating, but do it long enough and it starts to hurt. the warmth is no longer comforting, but harsh and prickly. the light is no longer magical and dazzling, but blinding and terrifying. it took some time, but you eventually convinced yourself to look away. 

“ya sure ya wanna do this?” atsumu asked, immediately recognizing your hesitance. he doesn’t want to break up, he wants you to take your words back, he wants you to tell him that this was all just some sick prank. but right now, it doesn’t matter what he wants. what matters is how you feel, the emotions he didn’t realize you had been feeling. 

“no…” you mumbled. the intensity of his gaze makes your knees buckle, but you stand your ground. even in the chilling darkness of his living room, he radiates light and understanding, making everything all the more difficult. you bite the inside of your cheek, letting a few beats pass before your next words, “but i have to.”

“i believe in you,” atsumu nodded, stuffing his hands in the pocket of his jeans. he lets out a quiet exhale, eyes gazing on the suitcases in your hand, “yer gonna do so many amazin’ things.”

your grip on the bag’s handle tightened. it was the end of an era, one that you didn’t expect would be ending at all. but it had to be done. for the first time since you met atsumu, you finally began to think of yourself. a small smile plays on your lips, hoping that he picks up on the pure gratefulness of your tone, “thank you for lending me your light.”

his reply would play in a loop in your mind. even in a breakup, the darkest the night has ever been, atsumu offers you a little bit of light. as expected from the sun.  

~

the moon goes through several phases. some days are better than others. it’s a wave of several highs and lows, but you grow to understand that’s how things are. on some nights it’s as invisible as they come, the clouds blocking out what little light it already produced. though it glowed on other nights, you often feel like nothing has changed. but you learn to trust the process either way. 

gazing at the moon is calming, not dazzling and exceptional, but calming. it provides peace, serenity. you often gazed at the moon, especially on the nights where you could only toss and turn. a cold breeze would blow past you and send shivers down your spine, painting your bare skin with several goosebumps. leaning on the balcony railing and taking in the sounds of a city that barely slept makes you think of him. 

you miss the sun; you miss your sun. you miss his presence and the warmth he brings you. atsumu checks in every now and then, asking how you’re doing and wondering if you’d ever want to meet for a cup of coffee. you’ve never accepted any of his offers for fear of only getting pulled back in. 

you’ve never realized that you always had a gravitational pull of your own. atsumu spends most of his nights gazing at the moon. when his heart raced and his mind buzzed, the moon brought him tranquility — as did you, his anchor. 

[ miya atsumu ] : the night sky is nice tonight, it makes me think of you. i like that we’re always looking at the same one. 

[ miya atsumu ] : i hope you’re doing okay.

he’s right, the night sky does look nice. the moon is full and shining the brightest you’ve ever seen it shine. gleaming, enchanting, and breathtaking doesn’t seem to do its beauty any justice. perhaps the poets and artists had been right all along, the moon is the perfect muse. your thoughts almost convince you that its light isn’t artificial. but twinkling beside the moon are the stars, shimmering high above the world you know, their light completely their own.   

you’re not okay. being the moon may not be too bad, but you’ve already realized that you want to be amongst the stars as one. 

~

days turn into weeks, and eventually months. sometimes they blend together when nothing of interest or importance happens, though you strive for events that are worth remembering. you’ve found a job that you actually like, one that you truly excelled at. you’ve started to put yourself out there, to meet people that pushed you to be better than you had been the day before. slowly but surely, you began to create your own light.

some days your light faltered, some days are dimmer than others, but it was a light of your own. it’s one that didn’t need another’s glow to exist. soon enough, you find yourself accepting one of atsumu’s many offers for a cup of coffee.

he’s now brighter than ever. setter for division one volleyball team, the msby black jackals, miya atsumu, has turned into setter for japan’s olympic team, miya atsumu. his radiance is as blinding as ever, the largest grin on his face as he waves his hand out the second he caught sight of you.   

but you’re brighter now too, weaving through the cafe tables with your head up high. you’re more sure of yourself, standing taller, making each step towards him with purpose. you’ve lost the tension in your shoulders, the weight that built in your chest. and atsumu notices it too.  

“you’ve changed.” he smiles, much softer than you’re used to. his gaze is fond as you settle in the seat in front of him.  

“i know,” you reply, the corners of your lips twitching upwards, “but thank you for lending me your light.”

atsumu’s smile remains that same soft one that you’re not used to as he recognizes your words almost immediately. he leans back in his seat, gesturing a hand to you, “never gave ya anythin’, this is all you.”

he replies with the same words he said several months ago, the latter half of the sentence being the only addition. warmth fills your chest as he never lost a single ounce of sincerity. the only difference? this time you actually believe him. 

atsumu may still be the sun, but you’ve become a star in your own right; you no longer need him to shine. maybe someday you’ll shine bright enough to allow yourself to exist beside him. but for now, this is enough. 

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

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[rogue-of-broken-time]

Since today (June 24th, 2021) marks a year since Seán last posted here, I figured this is as good of a time as any to try to breathe some life back into this place.

How, you may be wondering? I’m gonna start a thing, that’s how.

Starting tomorrow (June 25th) it’s gonna be

JSE Renaissance Week 2021.

Day 0 (today): boost this post around if you wanna participate. The more people still in the community who see it, the better. Let’s get as many people in on this as we can!

Day 1 (June 25th): Interaction day. Let at least one person in the community know how much you appreciate them being here. Got any fun ask games to send around? Now’s the time. Even better if they’re JSE-related (I’ve got something up my sleeve for this one!).

Day 2: (June 26th): Favorite memories day. This one is sorta self-explanatory; bring back memories of your favorite times in the community, whether they were with other community members here or with Seán himself at a convention or a HDWGH show. Even if it’s something small or obvious, I’ll bet that others will want to remember it, too.

Day 3 (June 27th): Theorist’s day. I know there hasn’t been much by way of canon ego content lately or for a while, but if you’ve got a favorite theory or theorist in the community, give ‘em some love today. Don’t be afraid to bounce ideas off each other, too; even just musing can lead to some incredible things!

Day 4 (June 28th): Artist’s/Writer’s day. Do you have favorite pieces of fanart, an edit, or a fic that you or someone else has created? Reblog that sh*t with a comment saying how much you love it– it’ll probably make someone’s day! Bonus points if you create something for this. Extra bonus points if it’s a collaboration with another community member!

Day 5 (June 29th): Favorite video day. Bring back the videos that made you laugh, smile, cry the most and share them with others. Whether it was the video that brought you here in the first place, your favorite ego appearance, or just a nice Let’s Play or series in general, I think we can all find something to bond over here. Even a compilation or playlist of videos works!

Day 6 (June 30th): PMA day. If you’re looking for a sign to reach out to anyone and let them know how strong they are for making it this far, this is it and today’s the day. I challenge you to write yearbook-style interactions to your favorite community members and drop ‘em in their askboxes. Who knows? It could start something new.

Day 7+ (July 1st and beyond): Time for togetherness. As the week wraps up, I hope we find ourselves finding our feet again. Did you make a new friend or reconnect with an old one over the past week? Good. Make a point to hang onto that. Maybe take the time to conclude the week with some closing thoughts on how we can encourage each other, inspire each other, support each other, and learn from each other. Write an open letter to the community if you want.

From here, it’s up to all of us to keep this going. We don’t have to do specific events or “weeks” all the time, but I figured this might be a good way to get things rolling. If anyone wants to coordinate on setting up other things for the community, I’m just an ask/DM away– depending on what it is, I may not make it to everything because I work so much, but I’m happy to boost whatever I can.

I’m going to tag this and all future posts that have to do with this (including reblogs) with #jse renaissance, as well as put them in the main JSE tags. Feel free to do the same if you’d like to join me. (I’ll still be posting/reblogging normal content as well, though, so no worries if you don’t wanna participate.)

Let’s bring this old place back, friends.