#give me this fic before I write this myself too

[salty-autistic-writer]

I wish you would write a fic where Buck experiences Tommy going into Autistic shutdown.

Thanks for the prompt! <3

Tommy is silent on the drive home.

He’s turned away from Buck, staring out of the window, only answering in hums, shrugs or barely noticeable shakes of his head.

“Hey. Are you alright?” Buck asks when he has to stop at a red light.

“Hmmm.”

Buck frowns. “Anything you want to talk about?”

Nothing.

Buck throws a concerned glance at Tommy, or rather, at the back of Tommy’s head.

Okay. This is new.

And Buck struggles with the urge to press. To insist. Because if anything bothers Tommy, if anything hurts or worries him, Buck wants to help. Wants to comfort and reassure. Wants to be a good boyfriend.

But every signal Tommy is giving indicates that he wants to be left alone. And Buck guesses he has to be patient then, even if it hurts. Even if he’s scared that it’s something he did wrong. The thought burns. Did he do or say anything wrong today? Did he hurt Tommy by accident? 

No. He has to stop spiralling. It’s been a long day of work ending with a long evening of socialising. They all went to a bar together for the first time. The whole 118. Spontaneously. Buck did notice Tommy’s surprise and hesitance when he was asked if he would come too, noticed that brief frowny moment of really? before he had his confident smile back in place and said “Of course”. 

It got late. Tommy is probably just exhausted and needs some time for himself. They have only moved in together recently, so they are also still getting used to sharing everything all the time.

When they’re home, Tommy mechanically, wordlessly, takes off his jacket and shoes and makes a beeline for the bedroom.

Buck stares after him, baffled, scratching the back of his head in restless uncertainty.

It’s getting increasingly difficult to not just burst and ask Tommy a thousand questions. Buck holds himself back. Takes a few deep breaths instead. Only after he goes to the bathroom and drinks some water, does he go to the bedroom to check on Tommy.

It’s dark in the room because the curtains are drawn. Tommy sits on the bed, still in his clothes, knees pulled up, arms wrapped around them, head resting on them. He’s not moving.

Maybe he has a migraine? Buck’s chest clenches in sympathy. He doesn’t really know what to do. But he feels like it’s a little cold in the room. So he takes one of their extra blankets and wraps it around Tommy’s stony shoulders. Then, he grabs his laptop and sits on the bed too with his back to Tommy’s, without touching him. They are sitting in silence like that, the room filling with the noise of even breathing and rhythmic keyboard clattering.

Buck doesn’t know how much time has passed when Tommy’s shoulder nudges him. “Hey,” Buck says, smiling Tommy turns around and puts his head on Buck’s shoulder. “You okay?” “Hm. What are you doing?” Tommy asks, his voice slightly dozy as if he just woke up from a nap.

“Not much. I started with a mystery story about a message in a bottle I found and somehow ended up reading about the frankly horrifying eating habits of Komodo dragons.”

“Wow,” Tommy says, shuddering when he sees the quite graphic picture Buck was looking at. “Poor little deer. Well. I guess it’s the circle of life. So, uh, you probably want to talk about it, huh?”

“Hm?”

“Me, going all silent on you,” Tommy clarifies.

Buck closes the laptop. “Oh. It’s fine. I was just worrying.”

Tommy nods, unsurprised. “It’s not you. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Okay. But … are you okay?” “Me?” Tommy says, now sounding a little surprised. “Oh. Yeah. Sure. It was just a little too much today. I didn’t want to be a buzzkill. And it’s not like I don’t like spending time with people, especially your family and friends. I just like to know. So I can prepare myself. Unplanned social events tend to make me a little … withdrawn after because they seem to drain all the energy I had left for the day. Always feels like my stupid mind is a battery that has to recharge after days like this, sorry.”

“I had a feeling,” Buck nods. “And you don’t need to apologize. Or to pretend. You can be honest with me. If you don’t feel like going out, you can tell me. We don’t have to. We can just have a nice relaxing evening at home together. I want both of us to be comfortable.”

Tommy is silent for a moment. “Thank you,” he finally says quietly.

“What for?”

“For being so accepting. For not pushing. For the blanket.”

Buck wants to chuckle, but then he feels a hint of sadness. Because sometimes he feels like Tommy is thanking him for totally normal things. If this is what Tommy sees as accepting, that means someone couldn’t even do this. Couldn’t even let Tommy have a moment for himself when he clearly needed it. Buck makes a mental note to ask. Because he feels like this is totally something they should have a long talk about. But not now.

“I hope it helped,” he says instead.

“It did,” Tommy says. “You have no idea.”

Buck smiles. “I'm glad. Are you hungry?" “Yeah.”

Buck puts a hand on his grumbling stomach. “Good. Because I could eat a whole deer right now, just like that Komodo dragon.” "Evan ..."

(AO3 Link)

[theplaceyoustillrememberdreaming]

Nicole Reads A Lot of Fanfiction (and she's gonna share it with you): Week 3

eventually I'll make myself a banner I am making my way though fics that have been buried in my tumblr likes for a long long time (think over 10 years in some cases...) so you'll see a surplus of Sterek from the olden times in the coming weeks :P

Enjoy!

Sterek: 8 and Buddie: 4

The Key by aussiebee | @aussiebee (2019•GA•7.4K)

Eligible bachelor Derek Hale has announced that whomever can take the key from around his dog's neck will be the person he marries. Stiles Stilinski think this is utterly ridiculous.

Hot Pocket Ratio by ShippersList (2016•M•12.3K)

At the threat of the alpha pack, all Derek wants is to keep his pack safe and alive. As the last resort, he tries summoning a demon to help with fighting the alpha pack. He gets a bit more than he bargained for. Or, the story where the classic demon deal of "Will you pledge your firstborn to me?" takes some unexpected turns.

reGuardless by raisesomehale | @raisesomehale (2015•M•3.4K)

The president had been to the point when he explained to Derek the rules of the job. Stiles was in the room while these rules were recited: Never take your eyes off of him in public. That’s how he liked to dodge his last bodyguards. No more than an arm's length apart. He’s more slippery than you’d think. Escort him to and from appearances. Intervene in any situation that might tarnish the Stilinski image... The list went on and on. As did the games of chicken Stiles initiated to test Derek with these rules.

The Key to Your Heart by HaleHathNoFury (My_Trex_has_fleas) | @halehathnofury (2020•E•35.6K)

Stiles Stilinski has come to the small town of Beacon Hills to write a feature on Derek Hale, son of Senator Talia Hale and one of the most sought after (and elusive) omegas in the U.S. He's got drive, persistence, charm and a plan to get Derek to give his first and only interview about his cunning plan to have his suitors try to win his hand by managing to get the key to his heart from the alpha of his rescue wolf pack. Stiles is most definitely NOT going to fall in love. Nope, not even a little bit. Dammit.

The Wolf Den by BigBadLittleRed (DonnyPhantom) | @star-shuttle-scout (2015•NR•33.6K)

Stiles Stilinski works for the Sheriff's Department in Beacon Hills County. He considers himself a rather invested young father to his only son, Spencer. He knows everything about the boy, except maybe he doesn't. On a day where Lydia's caught up in work for too long, Stiles has to take his son to a weekly event at the library he knew nothing about. He's especially confused when he finds out it's hosted by a young man his age with rather eccentric style, and a service dog. His name is Derek, the kids call him Dee-Dee.

Promise You'll Look After Him by DiscontentedWinter | @discontentedwinter (2015•M•9.9K) [Less Sterek more Sheriff]

Sheriff Stilinski is used to dealing with victims of violent crime. He knows how to approach kids who've been beaten and sexually assaulted. Except this time it's his son. It's Stiles.

Walking Into Darkness by alenie | @alenie (2014•T•6.3K)

Derek hears Stiles before he sees him. There's anxious, wheezy breathing coming from the next aisle over in the grocery store, accompanied by a racing heart and the smell of unwashed sneakers and hair gel. He turns the corner and Stiles is standing frozen in the dairy aisle, knuckles clenched around the metal of his shopping basket.

The Trouble With Falling by o_hoechyeah (2024•GA•3.6K)

Derek has guarded many souls in his time. He didn’t usually care too much about them. He’d witnessed so many in his lifetime that they hardly seemed unique anymore. Except for him. Stiles. Derek found that he was absolutely taken with the little human.

Five Years by aubrey_writes (2025•M•8.3K)

“It’s yours,” Eddie had finally said, looking down at it for a moment before handing the phone to him. “I… There’s a lot of stuff you might want to go through on there.” Buck frowned, confused, but when he looked down at the screen, he saw it. [250 missed calls][635 unread messages] “Wha–” “A lot of people used it as a… A way to communicate with you while you were gone.” Eddie’s voice was tense. Buck couldn’t stop staring, reading the top message from Eddie over and over again, the only one that he could see. It didn’t make sense. “You don’t have to go through it all but… We missed you, ba– Buck.” Buck slowly looked up from his phone, and there was that look again. Eddie had reached out, the same way he had when Buck came back, fingers brushing across his face gently. Buck wanted to melt into it. He did, later, but in that moment, he had to keep himself together. “I want to.” “Okay,” Eddie’s hand had dropped. Buck’s skin felt cold. “Come get me when you’re done.” OR Buck gets blipped. Eddie's left behind. A love story told through what Eddie did in his absence.

here’s my confession (I’m kind of hooked on you) by donationwayne | @donationwayne (2024•M•115K)

Buck is forced to go on a temporary medical leave after getting crushed by a flight of stairs. In the meantime, he works at dispatch while he recovers. One evening after work, Buck hooks up with a mysterious, hot, family oriented DILF. The following morning he’s mortified and a little love sick after discovering said hook-up aka Eddie Diaz is the newest (temporary) firefighter liaison--poached from a house in El Paso, Texas. Buck navigates becoming best friends and eventually work partners with his ex-hookup. In the meantime, he desperately tries not to fall in love. He fails. Cue: An adorable five year old, prank wars, gay offs, break room gossip, a fake dating plot, firefighting shenanigans, a packed summer of PTA responsibilities, karaoke, and copious amounts of cupcakes and thai food OR tldr: the hot dilf from the bar is my new work partner

Not Doing This Alone by carpediaz | @sofa-king-lame (2025•M•27.4K)

Things flow uncharacteristically seamlessly for Eddie over the following weeks. He eventually manages to only feel the need to check in on Christopher once each shift, twice if he’s on a double. Buck feels like part of the family so fast it makes Eddie’s head spin a little, especially when he comes home and Buck is waiting with a home cooked meal and stories of what he and Christopher got up to that day. or The one where Eddie hires Buck as a nanny for Christopher and has to navigate falling in love with someone he shouldn't want (who definitely wants him in return).

I Feel Like a Person for a Moment of My Life by serenelystrange | @serenelystrange (2025•E•13.3K)

“Must have been the wind,” he says to himself, hurrying over to the garage door and locking it closed before heading back towards the stairs. From the dark hiding spot inside the bed of the pickup truck, a pair of yellow eyes blink slowly, watching him go.

[ladyloveandjustice]

A Million Almosts- a Natsume Yuujinchou Fanfic

Here's the first part of the little fic about an older Souko and her feelings about Reiko I've been writing. It might be a while before I have time to do the second part, so, I thought I might as well post it and try not to put too much pressure on myself.

---

A Million Almosts

It was such a long time ago. Why can’t I just forget about her?

When Kana suggested a family trip to the pastoral paradise Souko spent so much of her childhood in, Souko had agreed happily. And they were having a lovely time. Her granddaughter loved running through the unspoiled nature, screaming her little head off. Her daughter was taking so many pictures Souko wondered how she had any storage left on her phone. And her wife was just soaking it all in, asking Souko all kinds of questions about the time she’d spent here.

She should just be relaxing and having fun. It was silly how her stomach turned whenever she caught a glimpse of that forest, how she couldn’t bring herself to walk there with her family even though it looked as beautiful as ever, how she was so afraid of strolling to the next town over.

Why was Natsume Reiko still haunting her like this?

Of course, Kana noticed Souko’s sighs and frowns. Souko could never hide it from her when anything was wrong. “It’s been bothering you, hasn’t it?”

Souko flushed, ashamed. “I’m so sorry. It shouldn’t matter anymore. I just…I just want to know if she’s okay. If want to hope that her life got better after...me.”

 Was it hurting Kana, knowing this was something she still worried about? How could she even be thinking of the past, instead of focusing on her wonderful present? Why was this regret as sharp and biting as ever?

But Kana simply took her hand, rubbing gentle circles on her palm with her thumb. “Souko, you have nothing to be ashamed of. It's natural to remember your first love, and it's natural to want her to be happy. Did you think I’d be jealous? Honestly!”

Souko shook her head, eyes burning. “I know. It’s silly. I know you better than that.”

“I remember how relieved I felt I saw Emi again with that big grin on her face. I'd never judge you for wanting the same. You should go. You might not find anything, but either way, you’ll know you tried, and it will be a load off your mind.” Kana cupped her face, gently wiping her tears.

Souko put her hand over Kana’s and leaned forward, kissing her deeply.

So here she was, strolling through Reiko’s hometown, her nerves jangling. Now that she was here, she wondered what she should even do. The chances Reiko still lived here were very slim, and the chances Souko might just run into her on the street were even slimmer. Should she go around and just ask random people her age about Reiko? What had she been thinking, honestly?

She remember how lost and clueless she'd been when she first walked through this town as a child, trying desperately to find Reiko. Apparently she hadn't changed much.

She was just considering turning around and going back when a boy suddenly tumbled out of nearby grove of trees. He pitched forward as if he’d been shoved, fell head over heels down the grassy slope, and finally skidded to stop when he reached the sidewalk in front of her, knees and palms hitting the concrete. He hunched over, panting. Then suddenly his arm shot straight up in the air, and he cried out, jerking his arm like he was tugging on something. Then there was a gust of cold wind, one that made Souko shudder, and the boy dropped his arm. His whole body seemed to relax, but his breathing was still shallow and strained. He glanced over his shoulder.

The people in front of Souko had halted, and she could see people across the street staring too. A man in front of her asked if the boy was okay, and he nodded. Souko heard a mumbled “I’m sorry.”  Then the man walked away quickly, giving the boy a ridiculously wide berth, even though the boy hadn’t moved from the ground and was clearly not okay. His head was bowed and he was shaking slightly.

Souko rushed forward, dropping to her knees. Her back protested at this, but she ignored it. “Are you hurt anywhere? Do you need to go to the hospital? I can help.”

“Thank you, but I’m fine.” The boy looked up at her and Souko felt like she’d been hit by a truck.

Golden eyes with curious cat-like pupils. Soft, fine hair framing delicate features. A perfect, carefully practiced smile. An ugly bruise on the forehead, and she could almost hear her voice saying “Don’t worry about it.”

“R-Reiko!” She gasped. She scrambled to her feet, stumbling backwards. The phantom of her first love had appeared, gleaming in the sunlight, looking just as she had the day she met her. What on earth was going on?

The boy blinked at her, stunned, and she came back to herself. No, of course it wasn’t Reiko. This was just a child who looked painfully like her. As impossible as it seemed, that was all it was.

She ran her trembling fingers through her hair, trying to appear calm.

“Sorry about that, you just looked like someone I used to—"

But the boy’s eyes widened and he looked up at her intently.

“You knew my grandmother?”

“Grand…mother?” she said faintly.

The boy’s expression had transformed.  from practiced politeness to something raw and eager. “My name is Natsume Takashi. Natsume Reiko was my grandmother. Did you know her?”

“Oh…” Souko breathed. A grandson. Of course. Reiko had grown old just as she had, and had a family now, just like she did. A twinge of nostalgia and excitement rushed through her. That meant Reiko had people she loved, surely. Just like Souko had always hoped, Reiko wasn’t alone anymore. Maybe she was even happy.

 She couldn’t imagine Reiko as a grandmother, but she wanted to see it, wanted to see Reiko with her grandson, gray in her hair and a smile on her face.

She smiled at Natsume Takashi. “It’s very nice to meet you. My name is Morinaga Souko. I did know your grandmother briefly, back when we were teenagers. It was a long time ago though, she probably doesn’t remember me—”

Natsume Takashi let out a loud gasp, jumping to his feet so suddenly that Souko stumbled back again. “You’re Souko?! You’re really Souko?!”

“Er, yes?”

The boy’s face split into the widest smile Souko had ever seen. It was almost blinding, that smile, so different from polite one he’d worn earlier.

It reminded Souko of the first time Reiko had truly smiled at her, right after she gave her the blue candy.  It had been so warm, so dazzling, such a contrast to that empty, bland one she usually sported, the one that didn’t even reach her eyes.

That smile is the best thing I’ve ever seen, she’d thought at the time. I want to make her smile like that until it’s as natural as breathing to her, until she never needs to fake a smile again. I want to see that smile for the rest of my life.

She imagined, she hoped, that Natsume Takashi had learned his smile from Reiko. That she smiled at him like that all the time.

“I can’t believe it! I’ve always hoped I’d meet you one day!” The boy was practically vibrating with excitement, for some reason.

“I…I’m sorry, I don’t understand. You’ve heard about me?”

Just then, she was interrupted by a grumpy meow. The strangest cat she’d ever seen was stalking out of the grove of trees and down the grassy slope. Its head was enormous, almost the size of his bowling ball shaped body. She had no idea how it wasn’t snapping his little neck—if it had one at all.

Natsume Takashi didn’t seem bothered by its appearance. “Nyanko-sensei!” he called out to it. Was that seriously what he’d named the cat? “Nyanko-sensei, look! It’s Souko! Can you believe it!”

The cat made a grumbling sound like it was actually conversing with the boy, and Souko couldn’t help it, she burst out laughing.

Natsume Takashi flushed. “Ah, sorry. That must have seemed strange…”

“I like talking to my cat too, don’t worry. But it’s like yours actually answers back! How cute.” Souko wiped her eyes, and a genuine smile returned to the boy’s face.

The cat reached the boy, and it climbed up on him and settled onto his shoulder, making her laugh more. But then the cat gave her a long look, its unsettling pitch black eyes staring a hole through her. She shivered slightly, and Natsume Takashi lightly bopped that cat on the head. “Sensei, you’re making Souko uncomfortable.”

Then he flushed again. “Oh, sorry! I-I shouldn’t be calling you that. I apologize for being disrespectful, Ms. Morinaga, I—”

“Souko’s just fine,” she told him. He looked disbelieving at this. “I mean it, you can call me Souko, your grandmother did. And what do you like to be called?”

“Oh, uh, people usually just call me Natsume. I understand if that’s confusing for you though, with my grandmother—”

“No, Natsume’s just fine. But could you tell me how you know who I am, Natsume? Did…” Did Reiko tell you about me? She wanted to ask, but then she got a tap on her shoulder.

“Have you not noticed all the people moving around you two? You’re blocking the sidewalk.” The woman’s tone was extremely nasty, a little over-the-top for the situation.

Natsume looked mortified and immediately started apologizing, but Souko simply turned back to talk to him. “There’s a park near here, I think. Would you mind if we went there to talk?”

“Of course not! I’d really like to talk to you.”

As Natsume nodded eagerly, Souko noticed that the bruise wasn’t the only injury he was sporting, he had some cuts on his arm, long thin scratches, and his nose was bleeding slightly. “We can also treat your injuries…I have some ointment and other supplies with me.” Her granddaughter was prone to mishaps, so she’d taken to keeping some medicine and bandaids in her bag.

Natsume’s cheeks turned a faint pink “It’s really fine. Don’t worry about it!”

Souko’s heart squeezed. He sounded so like Reiko. She’d always said the same thing when she’d arrived with random cuts and bruises. Like she was so used to such a thing it wasn’t even worth thinking about.

So Souko said what she’d wished she said back then. “Let me worry all I want. I just want to help you out.”

The boy looked a little surprised, but he nodded. The woman behind them cleared her throat, apparently incapable of walking around them, so Souko and Natsume got moving.

As she walked beside the boy, she couldn’t help but notice more similarities to Reiko. Little things she still remembered even after all these years. Like Reiko, this boy was incredibly alert. Not in a jittery way, he carried himself calmly just like she had, but whenever there was the smallest noise, his eyes would quickly flit in that direction. He’d scan around him, like he expected something to jump out at any minute. When they entered the park, he stared at an empty spot of grass for several seconds, even though there was nothing there, just as his grandmother had often done. He slipped into a casual protective stance, one she only recognized because she’d studied Reiko so intently in her youth. He shifted his weight, subtly shielding her, shoulders tense and eyes hard.

She’d always swooned when Reiko did this, but now she just felt annoyed that this teenager thought he needed to protect an adult from…whatever. She was getting up there, yes, but she wasn’t helpless. But she forced down her irritation. Maybe like Reiko, he wasn’t used to adults looking after him.

She sat Natsume down on a park bench, and he finally seemed to relax. She tended to him immediately, taking out her supplies. He looked sheepish, but submitted gracefully. She dabbed a little ointment on his bruise, cleaned his cuts, and put on band-aids on him. “I’m hope you don’t mind the dinosaur pattern. My granddaughter loves them”.

“I don’t mind,” Natsume laughed. His laugh was easy and light, another thing he shared with Reiko. Souko handed him some tissues, which he obediently pressed to his nose. She sat down next to him, and finally finished asking the question that had been burning this whole time. “How do you know my name, Natsume? Did your grandmother tell you about me?”

Natsume’s eyes lowered. “Not exactly. I…have something sad to tell you about Reiko.”

Souko’s heart sank. She somehow knew exactly what he was going to say. “Go ahead.”

“She…my grandmother passed away”.

Souko sucked in a deep breath. Her eyes burned. She couldn’t cry about this, it  would be silly to cry over this, she’d only known Reiko for a short time, so many years ago. But she’d always hoped that she’d be able to apologize to her one day. That she’d be able to see Reiko’s happiness and Reiko could see hers.

“I’m so sorry for your loss. Was it recent?” She hoped he didn’t notice that her voice was shaking. But the pity in his eyes told her he did.

“No. My grandmother died before I was born.”

Souko sucked air through her teeth. “How…how old?”

Natsume looked at her miserably. “I don’t know exactly, I’m sorry. I think it was probably somewhere in her mid-to-late twenties. Though it could be early thirties.”

“Mid to late—” Souko couldn’t help it, tears were falling fast down her face now. So young! So young! It wasn’t fair at all. Reiko hadn’t gotten to meet her grandchild. Reiko hadn’t been able to see her daughter grow up. She’s hardly had time to enjoy being an adult… Why did Souko get that joy, and Reiko didn’t?

Natsume dug around in his pocket and handed her his handkerchief. She was surprised at a teenage boy carrying one, but she took it and dabbed her eyes. Natsume looked at her sorrowfully.

“I’m…I’m sorry,” she said.

“Don’t be. Thank you for caring about her so much.” He said softly.

“But, if you never met her, who told you about me?”

Natsume hesitated. “It was…a friend of hers. I’ve been going around trying to find out more about my grandmother, talking to people who knew her. She told him what happened, and he told me.”

That was surprising. She wondered if Reiko had told him about her bitterly, angrily. She wondered if Reiko’s friend and grandson knew how completely she’d failed Reiko. But even if that was the case, she was just glad Reiko had a friend to talk to.

“I need to tell you something else,” Natsume said, his voice suddenly urgent. She raised her eyebrows.

“What is it?”

“Reiko wanted to see you again. She came back to the forest the next day, and she waited the day after too. But then she assumed you weren’t coming back, and she never went back to that forest again.

Souko’s mouth fell open.

 “She…she did?” Souko squeaked. She felt like her heart was going to burst and rip a hole right through her. She clutched a shaking hand to her chest. “I-I wanted to see her again too, I wanted to apologize so badly, but I got sick. I was in bed for two days, but I did come on the third day, I swear I did.”

Natsume nodded, like he’d already known that, which was strange. But then he said, “When I heard the story, I thought it might be something like that. Reiko…she tended to assume the worst.”

Her tears were falling thick and fast now. She was absolutely soaking the kid’s handkerchief. “You’re sweet to say that, but It was my fault, if I hadn’t said what I said…All this time, I assumed it must have hurt her so much she didn’t want to see me again, it hadn’t even occurred to me that we’d missed each other.”

“You couldn’t have known. And Reiko didn’t begrudge you either, I’m very sure of that. It wasn’t your fault you got sick. I’m guessing you came as soon as you could.”

“I couldn’t even walk far without collapsing the first two days…I dragged myself there as soon as I could, and I waited every day for two months…” She started laughing uncontrollable, hiccupping so hard it hurt her throat. “God, it’s so incredibly stupid, isn’t it? An utterly ridiculous misunderstanding!”

“Did I upset you by telling you this?” Natsume said. He was looking over her face anxiously, like he could unlock a way to fix her distress if he concentrated hard enough.

“No, no, I want to know the truth.” Souko sniffled. Now that the shock was wearing off, a strange warmth was filling her. “Reiko really didn’t hate me? She still…wanted to be friends?”

“She cared about you a lot,” Natsume said softly. “I think if she’d learned the truth, she’d have felt just as distressed. But neither of you were really at fault. It was just bad luck…and Reiko just gave up too quickly. It wasn’t about you. She was just too used to being rejected.”

It honestly didn’t feel real, learning Reiko hadn’t hated her for saying that thoughtless, awful thing. That despite the stupid gossip she’d believed too readily and parroted so cruelly, Reiko had still wanted to see her. Reiko had cared. If they hadn’t missed each other, Reiko would have heard out her apology, and maybe even forgiven her…

Even after these years, that comment had been one of her biggest regrets. She’d relived it over and over again in her mind, agonizing, wishing she could go back and change it. And Reiko’s grandson…her sweet grandson had lessened the weight of it all.

She wiped at her eyes one more time, trying to pull herself together.

“Thank you, Natsume. It means a lot that you told me this. Is it..is it all right if I ask you a little more about your grandmother?”

“Of course!” Natsume’s eyes lit up again.

Natsume’s cat—what was it, Nyanko-senpai?—had been watching them this whole time, almost as if he were listening to the conversation. But now he yawned, and settled down into Natsume’s lap.

“Is she related to you through your mother, or your father?” Normally she’d include “or are you blood related at all?” as her own daughter had been adopted, but this boy looked far too much like Reiko, it was obviously genetic.

“My mother,” Natsume said.

Souko wondered if Reiko’s daughter looked as similar to Reiko as this boy did.

“Would it be all right if I asked how Reiko died? You don’t have to answer if that’s too much.” But she longed to know. She hoped it had been something quick, something painless. She hoped it hadn’t been a drawn out, painful illness. And if it was, she hoped Reiko had spent that time with her family, getting all the goodbyes and love she needed.

Natsume’s face fell again, and he started fiddling with the sleeve of his hoodie. She was about to apologize for asking, but Natsume said, “I’m sorry. I don’t know how she died.”

“Your mother didn’t tell you?”

“My mother died soon after I was born. My father died when I was young too, so I couldn’t ask him if Mom told him anything.” 

The boy said it matter of factly, in the tone of someone used to saying this. Souko’s mouth went dry. Her chest ached.

Not only had Reiko died young, but her daughter had too? And her grandson had lost both his parents? It was awful, truly awful. If both mother and daughter had died young, was it something genetic? An illness? Would it happen to Natsume Takashi too?

She didn’t want it to happen, not to boy who radiated kindness the way Reiko always had, but who didn’t mask it like Reiko tried (and usually failed) to do, who was full of obvious love for the grandmother he’d never met. Who carried such a terrible burden, but still looked at her with gentle eyes and comforted her about her small tragedy.

 She was seized by a sudden desire to protect him, to rush him to the best doctors in the world, to fight anything that would dare hurt him. She knew Reiko would have felt the same.

But she controlled herself, wadding her shirt in her hands.

"I'm sorry," she said again, trying not to let how upset she was bleed into her voice.

“It’s okay. It was a long time ago."

She paused, her desire to ask more questions battling with her desire not to poke at this boy's tender spots. He seemed to notice, because he said, "It's really fine. Please ask any question you want."

She nodded. "...Do you know anything about your grandfather?”

She said it far too awkwardly. It wasn’t that she felt jealous exactly…it’s just she wanted to know Reiko had been happy with him, the way she was so happy with Kana. She wanted Reiko to have gotten the love she’d deserved. She couldn’t help but imagine what could have been, and she wanted to be sure whoever this man was, he’d given her a better life than she could have…

“I don’t know my grandfather either. No one knows who he was. He wasn’t around after my mother was born. Reiko raised my mother on her own.”

Her insides went cold. Her hands started to shake.

“He left her alone?” The pure ice in her voice startled Natsume.

“I mean, we don’t know that for sure!” Natsume said hastily. “Something could have happened to him. I’ve been looking for information on him too. And uh, I haven’t been able to find much, but I’ve found some things indicating that he might have been in a…dangerous position? Possibly a dangerous profession? I can’t say much more, but it seems complicated. So he might not have…abandoned her. I’m hoping he didn’t.”

Oh, he better have died or something else like that. Because if he didn’t, I’ll kill him myself. But knowing she shouldn’t tell this poor kid about her plans to murder his grandfather, she kept her voice neutral as best she could and said, “I hope so too.”

She couldn’t imagine anyone having Reiko in her arms and not treasuring her, she couldn’t imagine anyone leaving her behind…well, maybe she couldn’t talk, as she’d abandoned Reiko too, hadn’t she? She should have tried harder to find her and apologize to her. So it wasn’t like she could claim she hadn’t hurt her, that she would have made her happy.

But still, what kind of garbage man would leave someone as wonderful as Reiko? Leave her alone with no help raising the child he was equally responsible for! Why was it that Reiko had to endure abandonment, to care for her child alone, to die so young, while Souko was surrounded by love, had a wonderful family, owned a thriving flower shop—she felt like she’d somehow sucked all the happiness out of Reiko’s life, and stolen it for herself.

“Are you okay?” Natsume asked tremulously.

She forced a smile. “Yes. So, I take it there’s nobody else you can ask about your grandfather or her passing?”

“A few of my relatives might know, but I wasn’t in a position to ask them.” He smiled a bit ruefully.

Not in a position to ask? What the hell did that mean?

He seemed to notice her confusion and clarified. “I was passed around by relatives a lot when I was younger before I settled here. They generally didn’t like me asking questions or talking about…” he stopped, looking a little pained, and Souko’s heart broke for him all over again.

Reiko had never said anything, but Souko had sort of picked up she’d lived with relatives who didn’t like her. Maybe she’d noticed the signs because she’d been dealing with the same thing. It wasn’t that her relatives had been cruel to her, they’d just been…not very interested, and sometimes exasperated. It was always made clear to her that they were doing her dad a huge favor and she better be grateful.

So she’d bent over backwards to please them, doing all the chores she could, anxiously trying not to make them feel burdened or frustrated. But no matter how she tried, it never seemed to work, so she’d gone to the forest to be alone at times.

Had Natsume Takashi’s relatives been the same way? What kind of monsters would refuse to answer the questions orphan who was trying to know the family he never got to meet? And “passed around”—so none of them wanted to give this sweet, thoughtful boy who’d been through so much a stable home?

“Your relatives should feel ashamed,” she said fiercely. “They should have answered your questions. You deserved the answers.

Natsume looked briefly startled and then shook his head. "It wasn't like they were bad people. I was just a very difficult child, and it troubled my guardians, so that made it hard to talk."

The cat made a small "hmmph" noise, and Souko barely restrained herself from doing the same.

She suddenly realized who else Natsume Takashi reminded her of. Natsume was reminiscent of someone who wasn’t like Reiko at all. The way he apologized so quickly, for things that weren’t even his fault, the way he was always looking at her carefully, looking for any hint of sadness, anger, discomfort, and reorienting himself to make her comfortable, the way he made excuses for people that hurt him. He’d likely spent his life apologizing for existing, pushing down any unpleasant emotion, and blaming himself for the cruelty of others.

He was just like her when she’d been younger.

She could see the pain etched on his face when he talked about these relatives. The pain that was probably etched on her face, the same pain she’d seen in Reiko’s face.

What had they done to him? Anger flowing like molten lava inside her. Reiko would have never stood for someone treating her grandson like this. How dare they.

Natsume, of course, seemed to notice her anger and immediately tried to soothe her. “Like I said, the Fujiwaras- my foster family- are extremely kind. They’ve truly made me feel welcomed and cared for. I’m happier than I’ve ever been in my life. I… don’t think I could ever repay them.”

Souko let herself relax a little. It was true he seemed happy. He had far more confidence than she’d had as a child, and he was calm and content. He may be eager to please, but he wasn’t desperate. And she could tell he really meant it about his foster family too. The affection in his voice was almost overwhelming.

She hoped Reiko had been able to find that kind of refuge. Even though it seemed more and more unlikely with every thing she learned.

“I’m glad to hear that, Natsume. You deserve it. And a child repays a parent by finding their own happiness. That’s all I wanted for my daughter, and I’m sure it’s all they want for you.”

Natsume looked a little startled but then he grinned. “You're very kind. I’m glad I could tell you what my grandmother wasn’t able to. I’ve always wanted to do that, ever since I heard the story.”

Now it was Souko’s turn to fidget awkwardly. “Well, thank you for finding it out and telling me. I can tell you really care about her, even if you never met. Going around researching her like this is a big committment. Is it just because she’s your family or…?”

Natsume rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “I…well, I found out she lived in this town and…well, we’ve got some similarities. Um, I think both of us lost our parents and lived with someone else. And you’ve probably noticed I’m a little…” He ducked his head, face going red as a tomato. “…strange.”

There was a slight shame in his tone she didn’t like. “All the best people are,” she told him firmly.

He let out a surprised laugh at this, and looked her in the eye again. “Thanks. It’s just, I know people felt the same way about Reiko, though. That people…said things about her.”

Myself included, Souko though ruefully.

“And well…I’ve found people who accept me. People who truly make me feel like I belong. I want to know she had that too. I want to know that, in the end, she was happy. I shouldn’t get to have all the happiness for myself.”

Hearing her own thoughts echoed back at her was startling. She and this boy truly had too much in common. But hearing him say it unlocked something in her. “You deserve your happiness. Reiko would want that for you, I’m sure of it.”

Natsume gave her a very gentle look and nodded. “You too.”

She looked away. So he’d noticed their similarities as well.

“It’s actually kind of selfish,” Natsume assured her, like it would be deeply wrong if she thought too well of him. “I think sometimes I wish for her happy ending because that means…well, all this will last for me too.”

“That’s normal,” she reassured him. “It’s normal to want that.”

He nodded slightly, rubbing his eyee.

She leaned back one the bench, feeling almost dizzy with all this information, and her guilt on digging so deep into this boy’s past. “I’m sorry, I know all those questions must have been overwhelming.”

“Not at all,” Natsume said hastily, before Souko could continue. “I’m glad you want to know so much about her. But um, could I ask you some questions too?”

Souko blinked. “Of course.”

Natsume ducked his head shyly, petting his cat.

“Well, since I saw—heard the story, I’ve always wanted to know if you were doing well.”

She’d expected a question about Reiko. Why was he interested in her? “Yes, I am. I’m very happy.”

“I’m glad,” Natsume said, his eyes shining. “Can I ask what made you come back here?”

“Oh, I decided to take a trip with my wife and our daughter and grandaughter.”

She braced herself. The chance he’d turn disgusted and hostile was sizeable, especially in a small rural town like this. Even in Tokyo, it was a risk, and she’d endured responses like “I mean she’s not your real wife, you know. Even if you got married overseas, it doesn’t count here. Those little certificates you get from Shibuya and other places aren’t real marriages either, you know.”  And then there were the obnoxious comments where she had to force a smile and fend off with a light-hearted comeback. (“Wow, I would have never thought you were a lesbian by looking at you” “Yes, sadly we don’t come with manufacturing labels”). And even among those progressive enough not to say things like that, there was that moment of shock and awkwardness to contend with.

But there wasn’t even a flicker of surprise across Natsume’s face, it was like he’d already known this about her. “That’s great! I bet you have a wonderful family.”

“I do,” she said, still reeling a bit. Was she just really obvious when talking about Reiko? Or had Reiko…known? And somehow that had come across in when she told her story?

Well, it didn’t matter. All that mattered was this boy’s acceptance made her feel a little bit like Reiko would have accepted her. Even if Reiko had turned out to be straight (Souko was still unclear whether she was, she knew sleeping with a man didn’t confirm anything, she’d done that once herself, and her own wife was bisexual) perhaps she wouldn’t have shunned Souko.

“You seem so much more confident now too. You seemed a little shy back then—I mean, uh, that’s what Reiko told her friend.”

 “I was definitely a shrinking violet compared to her,” Souko chuckled. “But, I became an adult, I had to fend for myself and I learned some confidence. My wife bought out a lot of my confidence too. She’s just as competitive as I am, so I had to keep up with her”.

Natsume smiled, “So you still like to play games? Like you did with Reiko?”

“Sort of. I save the games like the pebble throwing one for my granddaughter,"She laughed. “Kana, meanwhile , is absolutely obsessed with beating me at shogi. I keep telling her it’s never going to happen. Just like I’ll never be able to run as fast as she does.”

Natsume had that tender, wistful look about him again. “Souko, I want to show you something la—”

“Natsume!”

The boy whipped his head around and then waved to two teenagers in the distance. A tall boy with shaggy hair and a girl with a shoulder length bob were walking up the park path, and they made a beeline for Natsume. As they approached, Souko noticed the shaggy-haired boy was squinting at her suspiciously, for some reason, his eyes flicking tensely between her and Natsume.

“Taki! Tanuma!” Natsume said happily. “What are you doing here?”

“We were on our way to meet you! We’re doing a study group remember?” the girl named Taki replied.

“But I thought that was later—” Natsume checked his watch and groaned “Agh, I didn’t realize what time it was.”

“Who is this, Natsume?” the boy called Tanuma said urgently. He was still looking at her with suspicion.

“Oh, this is Morinaga Souko! She was a friend of my grandmother’s!”

Natsume saying she’d been Reiko’s friend made her flush a bit. It was nice to hear, but it also didn’t exactly feel like the truth. But if Reiko hadn’t been a friend, what was she to Souko?

Souko was derailed from that train of thought by a little squeal from Taki. The cat immediately jumped off Natsume’s lap and ran for the hills with surprising speed considering it’s stubby legs and rotund body.

But instead of looking at the cat, Taki clapped her hands excitedly, beaming at Natsume and then Souko. Tanuma and Natsume looked flabbergasted by this, as if they’d just seen Taki throw away 100 million yen.

“A friend of your grandmother’s! Natsume, that’s so wonderful.”

Natsume smiled shyly. Taki turned to Souko now, and with a quick bow she said “My name is Taki Tooru. It’s nice to meet you.”

Souko responded likewise, still a bit taken aback by the girl’s enthusiasm.

“I lost my own grandfather, so I always treasure when someone can share memories and stories about him,” Taki explained. “Natsume, I’m so glad you can talk to someone who remembers her!”

Natsume shifted with embarrassment, but that soft sincere smile remained.  “Thank you. I’m really glad too, that Souko was willing to talk to her about me”.

Tanuma had stopped glaring at Souko, and now was looking at Natsume with such deep fondness that it was a little bit overwhelming to watch. Most of the tension had left his body too, though he still seemed slightly on guard.

“Natsume, you’re the one who’s been helping me out,” Souko told him. “It means a lot to me that you told me what happened to Reiko, and how she really felt. It’s wonderful to know she has such a caring grandson. It sounds like you have something to do with your friends, but if there’s anything I can do for you, let me know.”

Taki actually clasped her hands at this. “Thank you!” she said at the same time Natsume did. Tanuma unsuccessfully hid his laughter behind his hand. Natsume’s lip trembled like he wanted to start chuckling too, though he forced a stoic expression. Taki looked chagrined, but Souko patted her hand.

“I can tell you’re a wonderful friend. It was nice to meet you Taki.” Her eyes flicked over to Tanuma, wondering if she should say it was nice to meet him considering they hadn’t spoken, but before she could decide, he gave his own polite bow. “I’m Tanuma Kaname. Sorry I didn’t introduce myself sooner.”

“That’s all right. Nice to meet you, Tanuma. You can both call me Souko.”

Natsune rose from the bench, looking a bit trepidacious. “Um, Souko, how long will you be staying around here?”

“Another week.”

“Would you mind…would you mind meeting up one more time? I want to talk a little more. There’s a few more things I want to tell you about Reiko…and something I wanted to show you.”

“I’d love to!” Souko said and his face lit up.

They exchanged phone numbers and agreed to meet in two days. Tanuma and Taki told Natsume they could skip the study session if he wanted to talk more to Souko, but he shook his head. “I need to get ready,” he said cryptically.

Souko waved goodbye as the three kids left. As they walked away, she heard Tanuma whisper “what happened?” as he looked worriedly at Natsume’s bruised face. Natsume said, “the usual” with a wave of his hand.

 Tanuma didn’t look any more satisfied with Natsume’s flippant answer than she would have been, and Natsume seemed to realize this, continuing “Souko patched me up, actually.”

  “She seemed so nice” Taki said, still elated. “A friend of your grandmother’s! How long did that know each other?”

A friend. She thought as the kids voices grew distant, as they walked further and further away. It had been nice to hear Natsume say it, and it was nice to hear Taki say it…even if it wasn’t exactly true.

She and Reiko were an almost. Almost friends. Almost understanding each other. Almost two girls who fit their broken pieces together. There were a million almosts, a million things Reiko could have been to Souko—almost confidants, almost lovers… almost Souko’s first rejection, her first heartbreak, the first time confessing her feelings cost her a friendship….or she was almost Souko’s first kiss, first time, first awkward teenage romance. There was a completely different life she could have led, so many paths they could have gone down.

But they’d both taken their own paths instead. And on Souko’s, she had her granddaughter waiting, waving a stick with chubby fingers, demanding to see which of them could throw the farthest. She had her daughter, who would complain about Souko coming back so late and remind her they were all going to a drive-in movie, and there was Kana, ready to listen to Souko’s story, ready to crow she was definitely going to win at Shogi this time, ready to cuddle close to Souko and ask for comfort when she inevitably lost.  She had her flower shop, the young girl she was training to take it over, her art, and her sewing circle…

She could only hope Reiko had something like that on her path too. At least she could take solace that a little piece of Reiko was living on, in the eyes and heart of Nastume Takashi.

She wondered what the boy was going to show her.

---

And that's it for now! I hope the conversation wasn't too tedious, I was just caught up in thinking what Souko's reactions might be to all the tragic details of Reiko's (and by extension Natsume's) life. It would be tough to have all that dumped on you at once. I could dither over it more, but it's a fanfic, I'm not gonna burn myself out over it.

Hoping to do a very short part two and then finish up the whole thing with part three. I'll just see how people respond to it I guess!

[macking-cheese]

i read the synopsis of ur mindtrapped au and hhhough brother it has me feeling THINGS /pos. i LOVE the concept of bee getting mind controlled esp since he's considered prime's most loyal scout- it also makes me wonder just what happens with that final battle. do the terrans have to fight optimus and elita without bee's help? does breakdown step in to help?

and I SAW THAT NOTE about the chip being clamped around his spinal cord/movement cord. i can only imagine the sheer horror if they tried to deactivate and remove the chip, but instead of blinking back to awareness bee just drops, collapsing and going completely limp....

Yes yes yes!!! I'm torturing myself trying to focus on the plot leading up to that but I'm so excited to get to the events during and post the big battle!!

Breakdown does show up to help and it stirs a huge mess of emotions, and while I originally planned on keeping Bee as far as possible from the terrans for most of the fight, I think I want to squeeze in some terrible author mischief hehe. Maybe Breakdown fails in distracting him and lays there watching Bee stalk off to find the kids praying that things don't get too messy.

And things get messy alright *evil finger twiddling*

And while he never personally got to know the terrans, they were just kids in need of help. He knew that they held a special place in the Autobots' sparks, especially Bumblebee's, and he'd be damned if he let anything happen to them, and that spurs him to get back up and fight again no matter what.

At some point he gets absolutely bodied by Elita-1. Messy as hell. He loses his left arm in that fight. (I think it'd be interesting if the two had an interaction post-fight, where they have a nice long chat about things and both leave with a mutual respect for one another. She apologizes for tearing him up and he apologizes for being a shitty Decepticon in general, and for not being there when Bee needed it most. He vowed to step up and be the no. 1 supporter through Bee's recovery later in the story)

On the other end, the terrans are straight up NOT having a good time. Any attack can hardly get through, considering they're just kids up against the two BIG ASS WARFRAMES known as Optimus and Megatron. A huge majority of the reason they're still alive and intact is because they know their best bet is strategy. Hiding, sneaking, playing defense, using their opponents' own skills against them, things they learned from Bumblebee. At some point Twitch and Megs get their own "breaking through" moment, her getting a good attack in that partially damages the badge on his chest. (I'm experimenting with neopronouns for Cybertronians, being more frametype or status based than gender expression based. For example a seeker would use designations different than a standard ground-frame. I can share more if that is an interest to anybody. I say this because in the fic I will be writing them using different pronouns)

Anyway, Bumblebee comes back in eventually and it's obvious how his fighting is different than he would act in his right mind. It's sloppy, brutish, completely on the offense. Jawbreaker immediately nopes out of that, but is pressured into giving a few attacks by Thrash. Thrash is scheming up a way to immobilize the scout to keep him from jumping them so they can help their siblings. Nightshade and Hashtag are off trying to evade Optimus to get to the big monolith and shut it down. Twitch is having her moment with Megatron.

Swindle jumpscare RAHHH

So he and co show up and I think it'd be funny if Hardtop knocked Bee over in his alt-mode (a little throwback to when Swindle got pounced on the second Bee saw him), and they take over the fight while Soundwave orders the kids to go on get. Thrash and Swindle have a swift, bitter exchange before he and JB run off to join Nightshade and Hashtag. Soundwave immediately clocks onto Megs and Twitch is sent to join her siblings too.

I'm honestly not sure how the fight with OP would go down. I'm sure it'll be a tough one. However I think it'd be cool to get a moment where Jawbreaker takes advantage of being a dinobot and manages to lure Grimlock into landing some good hits on the Prime.

I think I need to stop otherwise this'll get so much longer and spoil more of the fic. I am so glad you like it!!!! It is currently eating me up inside to work on this, and I keep getting urges to draw for it but I don't even know what I'd draw. I have a bad habit of overthinking things and trying to pack in extra details and the hyperfixations are NOT helping. Please expect a possibly unnecessarily long description of how Bumblebee crawls through a vent. I'm so normal about him.

[bvidzsoo]

First of all, thank you so much for speaking up and giving the chance for those hesitant (like myself) to speak up about these matters. Given that I'm not that huge on Atiny tumblr, I thought if I voiced my opinion l'd get a lot of shit for it, so l'll take this chance to finally speak up.

My biggest problem, as you've also pointed out Yumi, is with all the engagement of smut fics and the lack with those that don't have it. I personally think that the boys are extremely over sexualised, all I see is smut and how x,y&z want to get dicked down this and that way...and while I suppose this is "normal" (I don’t consider it normal, no offence), I find it alarming that atiny tumblr is basically full of only this type of content. It's gotten so bad, imo, that I block blogs that only sexualise Ateez (which is something I've never done before).

I've been in many fandoms and l've written for exo and seventeen as well, and ofc the smut fics were doing better there too, but there wasn't this huge of an imbalance like in this fandom. I find it jarring and frankly, off-putting. I don't like writing smut, but when the plots work that way, I will try my best to write it, and it saddens me to see my smut free works (which I adore and put just as much time into) get less love. Just like you, Yumi, I don't write for likes and notes, all the stories I write are first and foremost for myself, but ofc, that doesn't mean engagement doesn't makes me happy and even excited to post more. Feedback is always so very important!

Being in this fandom, I got the most feedback ever since I started writing and it's been quite the years...so I am forever grateful to anyone who takes a bit of their time to leave even just a heart, a short or a longer message, and a reblog. I think I said everything I wanted, maybe it's harsh maybe it isn't, but l don't sugarcoat things, so, yeah.

Thank you, Yumi! 💕

to a dying? atinyblr

i don't usually speak about these things, but a lot of blogs (amazing writers) are leaving this platform or taking time off bc of lack of engagement which serves as a big demotivating factor. especially and specifically in this atiny fandom, some things have come to my attention and i just want all readers and writers to take a look at this post and refresh some reading and writing etiquettes, as well as revive the essence of being a part of this fandom.

feedback:

i understand that there are a lot of silent readers on here, but since tumblr is dying and our fandom is not very huge, the least you can do to show the writers some support is like the post. 

which brings me to the point that the like function didn't even exist in the past. this site still runs on reblogs. as readers, to show your favourite writers some semblance of support, you should be reblogging with tags. a simple ‘#ateez x reader’ or ‘#ateez fics’ is enough. it's literally not asking for much– reblogs are the only way writers can get reach.

if you cannot do that bc of your blog's aesthetic or whatever, side blogs exist. if you still cannot do that, a simple anon ask appreciating the writer sometimes saves them.

also, what has happened to the quality of reblogs? readers consume years of writers’ work and efforts in mere hours and don’t even leave any feedback? art in general in all forms is very underappreciated and with all sorts of problems like plagiarism, ai writing and everything, true art and writing is dying and needs to be appreciated now more than ever. we’re literally the last generation witnessing ai take over in all fields of arts. appreciate content creators before it’s too late, don’t be a content glutton!

updates and requests:

asking writers for updates when they specifically mention that they would prefer posting at their pace is wrong for so many reasons– we all have a real life. you, the reader, do too. just like you don't always have time to read, writers don't always have time to write. do you ever see the writers asking their readers 'why have you not read my latest chapter?' 

most of the times, writers mention in their bio/faq post or elsewhere that they do mind being asked about updates. respect your writers, please, and do a little scroll before you send such demanding asks (also, sugarcoating when asking for updates does not make it any better!)

if you are only asking about updates, it demotivates a lot of writers bc these same people will disappear when it is time for feedback. writing is a form of art. we can write, artists can paint, musicians can compose music, but all of it has no meaning unless it is shared with an audience and appreciated. readers are just as important as the writers but there is no way of knowing fics are valued unless feedback is given.

the same goes for requests. you can only send a request when the requests are open, which is usually mentioned in the writer’s bio/faq post. it’s literally not that hard to check if requests are open and it’s basic decency to not send a request when the writers specifically mention that requests are closed. when sending a request, please be courteous. a ‘please’ or ‘thank you’ are examples of being courteous when sending requests.

the fanfics in atinyblr:

i understand that you can read whatever you like, but why is it that in the atiny fandom, fics that do not contain smut hardly ever get attention? as a writer, i enjoy writing and reading smut, and while i am not specifically a smut blog, i have noticed how fics containing smut get far more reach than fics that do not contain smut– not just in my case, but other amazing writers as well. 

there are such amazing fictions in this fandom. all fics are crafted with dedication and care, yet stories without smut often get sidelined. writers are not able to express themselves in their writing freely anymore and they simply conform to a genre they know readers will consume, as they are forced to consider adding smut to their stories so they can get more reach in this fandom. i have heard accounts from a lot of writers who were inclined to add smut to an otherwise smut-free fic just for reach.

this is by no means hate to the smut writers. i am also not placing blame on them. smut drabbles have always been in this fandom, and there are amazing smut writers out there, doing their thing. it is the readers here who are failing the writers. readers are quick to talk about the lack of ‘good fics’ or ‘plot’ yet will not even bother searching for these works. there used to be a good balance and appreciation for all genres alike.

i know that smut is what's hot and trendy these days, and drabbles in general, no matter the genre, are easier to read when you want to take a short break. but there is such a lack of longfics in this fandom, especially as of lately, and as someone who has personally witnessed the ratio of longfics decrease exponentially, i felt the need to point this out. appreciate all writers! appreciate all genres! longfic writers need as much validation and encouragement as drabble writers, and vice versa! don't be too harsh on longfic writers for not pumping out fics at the same speed as shortfic writers.

and on that note, smut drabble writers experience a lack of quality feedback despite the high engagement, so readers, please don't hesitate to point out exactly what you liked about a fic, even if it's a short drabble! be kind to those writers, give them time to write and be kind when sending requests! they may post more often but they, too, have a life.

tags:

this is specifically for the people who will post a very normal picture of a member, no caption, but tag it something like #ateez smut, #ateez hard hours, #ateez x reader. and for the people who tag their asks with irrelevant tags– literally learn to tag your post properly, and stop crowding the wrong tags. you're just proving the point that if you don't tag a post with the smut tag or something similar, it won't get reach. if you've posted with a caption, that makes sense (though it still doesn't warrant some of the tags being used there).

as for writers, also learn to use your tags appropriately. fics that do not contain smut should not be tagged with smut related tags. believe in yourself. i get that there is the problem of reach but do not overcrowd tags with irrelevant material.

disclaimer:

this is by no means about me. if i cared about the notes, or lack thereof, i would have stopped writing a while ago. while it is challenging to be a writer here, especially as of lately, i still enjoy posting whatever i write no matter the genre or the word count. but it's a bit disappointing that my planned out fics get much less attention than a simple smut headcanons post that i wrote in the heat of the moment with my friend in literally a few hours as a joke (which has reached almost 10k notes btw in a span of 2 years). sure, it has exposed my blog to new readers but that's about it.

this post is for all the amazing writers who have left, are thinking of leaving, or are struggling to voice these problems because they are afraid of being marked as 'problematic' or a 'hater' or something worse. i am not afraid to voice my opinion on here, and if you think that i am wrong, feel free to interact with this post and correct me because i am not claiming that i am right about this.

these are just the observations i have made as someone who has been actively writing on this platform for about 4 years now, and since i have a decent number of followers, i hope this post gets more reach. do not be afraid to reblog this if you agree, and even if you do not, reblog this so someone else gets educated. i may have missed some points so feel free to add if you want too.

[im-not-buying-it-ether]

I need Billy to get Clark Kent-ed in a fic and sent to cover a Wayne gala

Billy and Bruce meet, names are exchanged, and Bruce worries if this kid is doing okay and if there’s a father position open. Billy is there for some Wayne-Sivana partnership with Magnificus, asking a lot of well informed questions and acting like a little cherub.

Them bad guys break in, one has a gun to Billy’s head and Billy, in true street kid fashion and with the experience from his last 57 kidnapping attempts; bites the hand over his mouth, throws the guy whose twice his size over himself and twists his arm, and dismantles the gun before Batman swoops in and saves the rest of the day.

Batman checks on him, asking if he’s okay, and Billy drops the good kid act and straight up tells him to piss off because he’s not getting adopted by a furry man-child who lives a state away from his hometown

Any Robin or sidekick that was there just cheers the kid on from the roof top screaming “DODGED THAT BULLET!” after having spent the whole gala trying to keep them apart before Bruce could bust out the adoption papers

[warlenys]

watched hannibal 2x04 and got an idea for a hilson fic where wilson does what bella did and chooses to die secretly away from house and like. started writing the bones of it and am having so many thoughts about their dynamic so like ok so. house says things he doesn’t want to say and wilson doesn’t say the things he wants to say. if wilson dies first then house can love him without rejection. house can scream at him without hurting him, and wilson can finally enjoy it. wilson doesn’t have to pretend he doesn’t like house’s love, and house doesn’t have to worry about hurting him with it. wilson choosing to die first actually. in a horrible way. gives them everything they wanted. (if you ignore the fact that they love each other despite everything already. but) if you live in a world where they still hate themselves despite loving each other because of that and are therefore forever inherently paradoxically incompatible then that might be the only way they can go. the only way they can be happy. with house loving a wilson who can’t feel the pain of his love and who can’t reject him for it. is this anything or am i crazy. either way just shoot me like a horse i’m losing it

[radioactive-dazey]

ADDING THIS HERE BECAUSE IT GOT LOST IN MY DRAFTS FOR A FEW MONTHS: HI! NOT SURE WHY I DIDN'T POST THIS BEFORE, THESE THOUGHTS ARE FAIRLY WELL WRITTEN IF NOT A LITTLE INCOMPLETE but I don't want it in my drafts anymore. Still think they mostly hold up, not sure what else I would have added, but one or two things seem random or weird seeing as I am, once again, trying to engage with the fandom less, but onto my thoughts!

I think I'm pretty fair: valid criticism about my post/this line of thinking and brings up quite a few things I didn't give myself a chance to consider xD

As I said in my post, I don't like the representation in which I am defending. I try really hard to disassociate myself from interpretations of remus that do water him down: after a certain point, it's just not Remus

I should mention a last point I gathered: while this is more of a point explaining why people don't write intrusive thoughts (and less about them being able to get away with doing so) it comes from a deep misunderstanding on what intrusive thoughts are. This comparison could be said about the way Virgil was characterized in the early days of the fandom. While I think it's safe to assume the intention with DWIT was to educate and (so to speak) "normalize" the existence of intrusive thoughts, it would be harder for me to say that that message was well recieved. While I have gained better understanding and patience with my own intrusive thoughts as a result of the episode, I feel it has also fueled such misunderstanding, ESPECIALLY with more recent episodes and fan integrated content.

In reference to what I said about the fandom having better things to talk about, I should elaborate: I've noticed that many people don't engage with my posts criticizing Thomas +Co., and that bugs me. There is so much value to having more people engaged in that discussion, but too many people are either trying to water it down by minimizing his actions, ignoring them entirely, or are rallying to defend him. I only more recently joined in the critiquing side of things because I only more recently came back to the fandom. I took a several year hiatus (honestly about 4 years) where I didn't engage with the fandom beyond liking the occasional post on Instagram. I had even unfollowed Thomas and unsubbed from his YouTube for a period of time because I really stopped watching his content as a whole. I think my only REAL interactions with the fandom was when people engaged with my fics (I was still writing then throughout this time lol)

Another point I'd like to elaborate on: escapism. To be honest, this was my biggest fumble with writing my initial post. I should have elaborated on this further as well as I communicated ineffectively. What I meant by this, is more of escapism from real life stressors and NOT intrusive thoughts as a topic as a whole. While I think it's easy to reach that conclusion when I mention points such as "not writing intrusive thoughts as I experience them." I really just meant the world at large.

Let's Talk About "Watering Down Characters" (& Very Specifically Remus Sanders)

I am responding to THIS POST, "Why I think people should be allowed to “water down” Remus", by @radioactive-dazey and creating a discussion around this topic. I feel like the idea of changing a character's personality is heavily talked about and done within every fandom aaannd with this post being talked about, I want to step in and say some things because I have Many Things To Say.

And before anyone says shit: I am a ts criticiser, yes, but I criticise everything about the fandom and show— not just Thomas. IDGAF that we have "better things to talk about", I've been talking about those things for like 4 years now and now I'm criticising the fandom. I can do it all.

Feel free to respond with your own opinions if you're replying to me. Can't say I'll reply to them all, but I like hearing what people have to say.

I am very aware that watering down characters is an inherent part of fandom. No matter what fandom you join or what media you get into, there is always a huge part of that community that waters characters down, changes their entire personality, or writes them differently. I do agree that this is just What Happens when you are in fandom. Not everyone understands source material, not everyone has the same opinions when analysing a show, and not everyone cares about it that much.

Personally, I don't get why you would talk about a piece of media and change everything about it, because then you're not enjoying the media, you're enjoying something completely different. But this is fandom and people have fun in different ways and I agree that you need to learn when to look the other way and let people exist.

However, I run a critical blog and my fun is criticising.

"It can be hard to write intrusive thoughts in a respectful way, so people avoid it."

OP brings up that writers may not know how to write intrusive thoughts and so they avoid it, in order to not "writing wrong". Which is alright to do! You don't have to write about serious topics... BUT... if you are voluntarily choosing to write about a series that includes the topic that you don't know how to write about, maybe... you should take the time to learn how to write it.

If you don't want to write about intrusive thoughts, I don't think you should be forced to, but if you are writing a character that controls intrusive thoughts, it makes zero sense to completely remove that aspect when you simply should not write him.

It's brought up how mischaracterising Remus leads to the misunderstanding of intrusive thoughts themselves and stigma surrounding them. Changing Remus' character is fun and all, until we remember that he represents something very serious and important. It's something that actively impacts people. Which is my issue with "escapism" within fandom (touched on later in this post). When people actively ignore real issues happening within the fandom, or in this case, the real issues the series itself is about, by ignoring Remus' character, watering it down, or completely changing it, you are causing more harm to intrusive thoughts and the disorders that are connected to them.

Let's bring up an example: Jimmy from Mouthwashing.

Mouthwashing is a game about a very heavy topic: sexual assault. You play as Jimmy, the main perpetrator, though all the men in the game have a role to play (bystander affect, toxic masculinity, etc).

The fandom is already watering down these characters and topics. Introducing shipping to a game with characters that shouldn't be shipped; making the characters all sweet, perfect, stupid angels who didn't know any better; implying that if Anya had told someone else then she would've been saved, and it's her fault she told Curly in the first place. I could go on and on.

Obviously, Sanders Sides is about different topics. Obviously, Remus is not the same as Jimmy. This isn't a perfect comparison.

But it'd be completely strange if someone told you they were using Mouthwashing as a way to escape real-life issues. That they're writing Jimmy differently, or completely removing the sexual assault entirely, because it's "hard to write".

This is at best super fucking stupid, and at worse actively harmful (which it is). If you can't write the topic of SA, simply do not write for MW in the first place. The same applies with Sanders Sides, and any other piece of media.

"Writers use writing/fandom to escape real life and may not want to talk about those topics."

This is not an inherently wrong statement, but it does ask a question:

If you are joining a fandom to "escape real-life topics", why are you joining one that talks about those real-life topics?

Sanders Sides is a web-series that discusses morality, intrusive thoughts, anxiety, catholism, and other heavy-hitting topics. With the introduction of the dark sides, with certain plot points and arcs— Sanders Sides is very much about those "real-life topics". If you are trying to avoid writing about intrusive thoughts, writing for a show that talks heavily about intrusive thoughts and has an entire character that controls intrusive thoughts isn't... a bright idea.

I know there's this entire talk about using fandom to escape, which is something I have talked about repeatedly on this blog, mainly when we talk about racism within fandom. When you bring up serious topics, people flee and get upset because this is their "safe place", when in actuality, it's a safe place for them and no one else. They are using the phrase "escapism" and "safe place" as a way to spout racist rhetoric without consequences. We all know how I feel about the idea of "escaping through fandom."

The statement "I don't write Remus in character because I'm escaping real-life" makes me raise an eyebrow, because.... the entire show is about that. You're escaping through something that has exactly what you escaping from— that's like if I said I was avoiding my triggers by watching something that included my trigger.

The better answer is just don't watch.

It's the same sentiment I held throughout the fandom after Remus was introduced. "Can you please tag 'duke dont look' or 'remus tw'? He squicks me out." I respect your triggers and squicks and I acknowledge that sometimes they can stem from strange places and be "irrational", but... if your trigger is an entire character, it makes more sense to simply leave the fandom instead of ask everyone to collectively keep in mind your feelings.

If you don't want to write intrusive thoughts, that's okay and I respect this, but maybe you shouldn't be writing for Sanders Sides in the first place if you "can't handle" what the series is about.

I know Sanders Sides did not start off like that, I understand if it was a way to escape at the beginning stages of season one, but it is more serious now. If it's including topics you cannot handle, then you need to take care of yourself and leave.

This mentality of "this makes me uncomfortable, so I don't have to partake" is such an interesting one. Mainly because people think their uncomfortableness always stems from a good place, a place that isn't allowed to be questioned. You can't get mad when someone is feeling bad, because those are their emotions. "If I am feeling uncomfortable, you should respect me and let me be."

But the issue with this is that sometimes (a lot of the times) the things that make you uncomfortable aren't inherently an issue. Sometimes it is an underlying thing you need to work through. Sometimes it's good to step outside of your comfort zone.

I have agoraphobia, which is the fear of leaving my house and going outside. If I was constantly letting this fear control me, I would never leave my house. This feeling doesn't stem from a good place. I need to be comfortable leaving my house and I need to force myself out.

You don't let uncomfortableness or fear control your morals. Just because something makes you Feel Bad, doesn't mean it is Actually Bad.

Which is why I think this debate is brought up. It's always talked about how one feels about Remus, how one feels about intrusive thoughts.

"What if they don't like writing about it?" "What if they don't feel comfortable writing something they don't know?" "But Remus makes me uncomfortable, I can't accept him."

Your feelings, while okay to have, are not always "valid."

You can feel how you want about Remus, but no one is forcing you to write him. When you write fanfiction, you are voluntarily writing it. You are choosing to create content within the media.

If you don't like the content in Sanders Sides; if you don't know how to accurately write intrusive thoughts; if you won't learn how to accurately write them; if you can't handle the topics that are in the series, itself; then why are you here? Why are you choosing to write it? Why are you in the fandom?

Change him all you want, but a better option is simply don't write him in the first place. You have no reason to mischaracterise him when writing him is a chose you actively chose to do.

Sure, it boils down to personal interpretation and "what you want to write", but if your interpretation is going completely against what is represented in Sanders Sides, then what are you here for? Which wraps all the way around back to my own personal opinion on mischaracterising characters:

If you're changing the characters completely, then do you even like them or their story or source material?

[uhlillie]

the internet is such a beautiful place sometimes 🥲

[kelbunny]

I know I said I probably wasn't going to draw anything for myself until after artfight just so I don't get burnt out early, but gosh dang it I want to draw Cordelia and Catiua interacting. And just draw Catiua in general. Or draw her with her brother. Or draw Cordelia with her brother(s).

I am normal about tragic sibling characters I promise.

[thatgirlwithasquid]

gosh getting a bit drunk has only made my wolverine pining worse. time to probably fall asleep while rewatching x-men i think :)

[tethered-heartstrings]

how do you get story ideas? i love creative writing but i can never find ideas for what to write about. do the ideas just come to you? do you do anything to inspire you?

it is a bit of both. sometimes ideas just come to me, especially pwps. a scene pops into my head and then i build a bigger scene/story around it. usually like "wow that wound be hot if xyz..." and then figuring out how to make that happen. sometimes it is something vague that inspires me like "werewolves" and then my brain goes 100mph and thinks of things that could fit into that kind of story/idea. for my first long fic, i had an idea but nothing super specific, and as the story progressed, a big monumental scene would come to me and i would build up to and taper down from that moment, versus me thinking of all the steps in between first. a good chunk of that story was me writing as i go (not ideal for me personally)

the most specific thing that inspired me to write, which was the first time it has really happened, was seeing @hannibalhadalittlelamb's art from an ask prompt. and the best way i can describe it is i saw it and the story started to unravel in my head. i didn't have to "think" about it, my brain made pieced something together

what's helped me is anytime i get an idea, even if it is vague or silly, i write it down and add any details or scenes or ideas that could fit. they may not all make the final cut, but it helps my brain formulate an idea. once i have disjointed ideas, i "sketch" out a plot and make the ideas in a linear timeline.

i also have some mutuals i bounce an idea off of and see if it works, and then in explaining it to them the plot starts to "write itself" if that makes sense. the big idea organically branches itself out to smaller, more specific details

i struggle with creative writing, but writing for a fandom and having pre-established characters that i understand helps a lot. i just take those personalities and sometimes canon events and reshape them to fit a new situation. i never force an idea. if it comes to me, and the vague plot "writes itself", then that's awesome. but if i stare at a prompt and nothing comes to me, i just scratch that and move on. i chase the lightbulbs that turn on, but i won't bother with making the ones that are burned out work.

[ghostbergara]

something from this western treasure hunting au if the spirit takes u

https://archiveofourown.org/works/44120635

you bet the spirit took me

a great fic, thank you for the suggestion!

[martyrbat]

👍👍

[waterdeepthroat]

i may have just written 3k words of angst about the tadfools having terrible body image when i was in a sleep-deprived haze and it needs to be edited down to a decent length but. i am cringe and i am free

[non-un-topo]

At the crossroads between wondering if it's worth it to basically completely rewrite all my WIPs or just take a break from writing for the rest of the summer