#i lost SO many of my old fics when i moved accounts on here and i learned from my mistakes

[kohakhearts]

hey so…i get the frustration here. i do. but many people in the tags on this post are saying a lot about how posting a full fic, no readmore, on tumblr is a good way to make fandoms hate you. to make people skip over your fic. to discourage people from reblogging it, etc

most of these fics are like…1k words or less, by the way. which is significantly shorter than the infamous do you love the colour of the sky post. shorter, too, than a lot of the comics i see passed around on here, in fandom spaces or otherwise. and the reality is - no one is reblogging fics whether they have readmores or not

what i’m seeing on this post is something i’ve witnessed more and more of over the years on tumblr, which is a general belief that fanfiction doesn’t really belong on tumblr. post links, sure - but ao3 is “the fanfiction site.” so we engage with fics there. why should we reblog them on tumblr? and if you’re only posting on tumblr, well - that’s your problem, isn’t it? never mind that some people might just prefer to post on tumblr because it’s what they’re comfortable with

the problem with readmores is that if someone’s account is deactivated or terminated, the links break and that fic becomes completely inaccessible for everyone going forward. if that fic was only ever posted on tumblr…well, it’s gone forever now. and that really, really sucks. so yeah, scrolling by a wall of text you’re not interested in can be annoying - but maybe we need to look a little deeper into the implications of our irritation, rather than saying “i love you fic writers…but you really suck and actually i kind of hate you when you do things that inconvenience me”

if you're posting a whole fanfiction to tumblr you've got to put it under a readmore boss

[roseaesynstylae]

Star Wars: Republic Commando: Triple Zero, Chapter 6

I had a nice vacation.

I visited family. I soaked up the sun. I created an AO3 account and have been collecting bookmarks and posting short fic, so when I feel confident enough to link it, there'll be something substantial. I began reading my way through the High Republic. I started refining OCs that I might post fic about in a year.

And now I'm coming back to this.

(Hand to God, instant burst of rage when I opened the book.)

"In five millennia, the Mandalorians fought with and against a thousand armies on a thousand worlds. They learned to speak as many languages and absorbed weapons technology and tactics from every war. And yet, despite the overwhelming influence of alien cultures, and the absence of a true homeworld and even species, their own language not only survived but changed little, their way of life and their philosophy remained untouched, and their ideals and sense of family, of identity, of nation, were only strengthened. Armor does not make a Mandalorian. The armor is merely a manifestation of an impenetrable, unassailable heart.

-- Mandalorians: Identity and Language, published by the Galactic Institute of Anthropology"

That right there is complete bullshit.

No culture exists that long and interacts with others without being influenced in some way. Whether intentionally or unintentionally, they would pick up something. I know Star Wars doesn't necessarily involve itself with the nitty-gritty of worldbuilding, but...

Part of this feels like I'm overreacting to something small, but over the course of my vacation, I have lost what little willingness I had to be nice to Karen Traviss, her Mando Sues, and all the bullshit in this series. I'm sorry, but I'm going to be a bitch going forward.

Anyway.

There's something about this excerpt that really makes me feel like it's lording its (unrealistic and impossible) linguistic "purity" over everyone else. This is a case of "If this were a different author/book/series, I wouldn't be bothered."

Mando-Shilling: 2

I haven't even gotten to the actual content of the chapter yet and I'm metaphorically throttling this book. This is a bad sign.

"'General,' he said. He paused to nod formally at Etain, which -- given Skirata's general contempt for anyone not in armor -- seemed quite an encouraging start, Fi decided."

We are not pleased.

"'In here, ma'am.' He could make ma'am sound like girl somehow; he could do the same with General. But as a Jedi she had no right to feel affronted by the lack of deference. She realized that she simply wished he would like her. 'Just a little chat and you can find General Jusik and catch up on events.'

Yes, Skirata gave the orders."

Okay!

This isn't lack of deference; this is just being an asshole.

Oh, he can make ma'am sound like girl? Well, I can make Kal Skirata sound like eat shit and die.

"'In urban operations, a woman is always useful, Jedi or not. Another aid to invisibility -- old di'kute like me and females like you.'"

I hate you so fucking much.

It's a Man's World: 2

Like I said above, I have lost all patience for this series' bullshit. I'm going to go look at some pro-Jedi/Bad Batch content (my version of touching grass) and possibly assemble romantic prompts.

My last comment on this chapter?

Jedi-Bashing: 9

Mando-Shilling: 2

It's a Man's World: 2

Shut the Fuck Up, Kal: 1

Deltas, Move Out: 4

Mird, My Beloved: 3

Is This The Bad Batch?: 2

Main Post

[vryivs]

fanfic writer interview

thank you @tiesanjiaoshenanigans

How many works do you have on AO3? 52

What's your total AO3 word count? 571, 768

Your top 5 stories by kudos/likes:

Tangerine, Macaron (seongjoong)

the dirt that you're made of (yanqing)

恋の予感 (the longest path to us) (seongjoong)

If I Can Leave One Memory (sansang)

the stars are here (seongjoong)

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? yes!! i usually go through my comments right before i upload a new fic or chapter, just because that's easiest

What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending? god um ok. one sec. it's definitely 白镜 - White Mirror. tragic lesbians... most of what i write has a happy or at least ambiguous ending but this one follows canon so it's a tragedy instead

What's the fic you've written with the happiest ending? oh man! tbh it's probably 恋の予感 (the longest path to us) again. although nearly everything i write ends happy

Do you write crossovers? not rlly... they just don't appeal to me that much so I've never written them. i dont read them either

Have you ever received hate on a fic? nope! considering how long ive been writing it honestly kind of surprises me--its not even like i write particularly safe stuff either. i figure that maybe its because so much of my work is so personal that a people tend to maintain good etiquette and dont talk shit directly to me

Do you write smut? If so, what kind? yes. the cinematic kind lol. last time i wrote something explicit was fine, but i much prefer writing smut in a more literary style? not sure if that makes sense. the writing equivalent of close shots and fancy camera angles and lens flare, although that doesnt mean that i cant be crass when i want

Have you ever had a fic stolen? i dont think so, but its not like i check

Have you ever had a fic translated? nop! someday i want to get good enough to translate my own hsr work into chinese just bc so much of what i write is influenced by reading and learning about chinese culture and linguistic quirks, but that wont be any time soon

Have you ever co-written a fic before? yes!! several actually. lonely 'til you hold me was a collab with a pinch hitter for the event it was for. then i also wrote on my old account Accursed Spawn with @shineoftherainbow which to this day i am obsessed with

What's your all-time favorite ship? oh man... i am fickle and my tastes change by the week, but i think i will always have a soft spot for einsla, even if i dont write them much

What's a WIP that you want to finish but don't think you ever will? never say never but probably the seongjoong royalty au. i had it planned and everything but then people started discoursing around eden and the planned ending i wrote was potentially too topical, so i waited and then i lost steam.

What are your writing strengths? flow i think? ive always been pretty good at keeping things moving at a good pace. i edit myself a lot (and practice editing on some actual published books too!) so its become second nature to chop and change and move things around.

What are your writing weaknesses? actually writing. just kidding. probably that when i get stuck on something i tend to focus only on the fact that im stuck and cannot continue until i have unstuck myself

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic? depends on what is meant my this! if it's about honorifics in dialogue (eg, hyung, -chan, dajie etc) i support it, since a lot don't translate well to english. Same with terms of endearment like -ito and -ie. if it's whole dialogue, it really depends. am i supposed to be able to understand the dialogue? is it something that could've been written just as well with 'he says, in [language]', does the author understand what they're writing, is it a text based or verbal conversation? does the pov character understand what's being said? (personally the best way to have dialogue in other languages is if the pov character isn't supposed to understand it. but always be aware that a native speaker of that language may still read the fic)

What's a fandom/ship you haven't written for yet but want to? kiamei! i love my lesbian mothers.

What's your favorite fic you've written?

白镜 - White Mirror. lets go lesbians! i really enjoyed writing in this style

tagging: @shineoftherainbow @himbodevotee @nicenightmare13 @morifiinwe @marichild @linhuine

[hamstergiukie]

Caught K.HG

Repost from my old account

synopsis: while accidentally working at an illegal hybrid research centre you fall in love with a penguin hybrid, who has no worth to the research team who holds him prisoner.

characters: penguin hybrid!Kanghyun x reader

genre: angst, fluff, hybrid au

warnings: animal abuse, injections, mentions of death, a sad Hyungu:(

song rec: regulus by onewe, the love by hoppipolla

notes: the fact that i want to continue this right now omg i love this fic, and i hope you enjoy it as well!! i actually can’t be asked to edit anything i’m so sorry:’)

you had recently started at a new job. you are an assistant to a researcher in a ‘safe’ hybrid research centre. but you know better, this facility is illegal. hybrid research centres are few and are more for research on how hybrids came to be, not on their bodies and minds. you hated the way the hybrids were treated, you stayed to collect enough evidence on the facility to turn them in. soon you would make your move. inside you found hybrids being subjected to inhumane treatment and conditions. they were experimented on and hurt on a daily basis. the researcher you worked with had a favourite hybrid to experiment on, he was a penguin hybrid named Hyungu. penguin hybrids were extremely rare, they were very pliable and easy to work with. Hyungu was especially gentle. he was shy, kind and incredibly intelligent. the scientist found Hyungu’s pliancy the best for his research, thus you found yourself many times sitting in a room watching Hyungu whimper after a particularly difficult experiment.

later when you were doing a diagnostic on Hyungu you found he had some issues with his blood. the last experiment had been an injection to see if hybrids were immune to certain diseases, however it appeared Hyungu was reacting badly to it. if he wasn’t treated he could die. sitting across from Hyungu while checking his vitals, and blood work made it incredibly difficult to keep a straight face. Hyungu watched you with forlorn eyes, he had long lost any hope of escape. his eyes were blank and sad. hybrids were bred to be human companions, they can sense any changes in a human’s body. you were the only human who had ever been kind to him, he felt your panic for him. “o-okay Hyungu, are you feeling any pain? or sickness?” you asked, your voice shook a little. “yes.” he answered quietly, you exhaled heavily. “what’s wrong? what do you feel?” your voice almost broke, “my chest is tight, and my head hurts.” he mumbled.

the diagnostic was telling, and even though Hyungu was a rare breed the scientists had done horrible tests on him. they had finished with him and had no plans for treatment. so you took matters into your own hands. you found Hyungu in his cell, half asleep in penguin form. he was relatively small in this form, having been bred to

be a pet. you tucked him into your backpack, with medicine to treat his sickness that you had stolen from the labs. you knew this was risky, taking a hybrid and medication you would be in a lot of danger before you could turn your evidence in to the local authorities.

yet still here you were with Hyungu tucked in your bag as you tried to walk as calmly as possible to your car. security was alerted almost immediately that a hybrid was missing and they were checking everyone who worked closely with Hyungu. that meant you, as well. turning corners whenever you saw a security person, you found yourself on the ground level near your car. just a few more minutes and you would be able to drive away, the only problem was the security gate. they would certainly check your car when you left, but what they didn’t know is that when you started working there you had a friend of yours outfit your car with a secret compartment to hide the evidence of illegality you found.

quickly you tucked Hyungu and his medicine into the compartment in your car, and started the car. taking a deep breath you drove to the security gate. they were much nicer at the gate, just checking the obvious places in your car before letting you go. when you had gotten to a safer place, you stopped and tucked the tiny penguin Hyungu into your arms. he was warmer than he should have been. he didn’t wake up for the whole drive.

at home you cooked supper and waited for the little penguin to wake up. while you were cooking you felt something nuzzle your leg, looking down you found Hyungu looking up at you, the same forlorn look in his eye but with a spark of hope. you bent down holding out your arms, silently asking if you could pick him up. he waddled into your arms and you lifted him up.

“feel free to switch forms whenever you’d like, but for now i have to start your treatments. it’s just an ingested medicine so there shouldn’t be any needles. it might taste badly but it’ll help you feel better.” you talked to the air, knowing he understood you. picking up the syringe you lifted it to his mouth, “i know you probably don’t want this, and that it probably scares you. but i need you to trust me, it’ll make you feel

better i promise.” you whispered, he squeaked up at you, and you take that as a good sign.

after administering the medicine, you felt Hyungu relax. you set him down and let him waddle around your apartment before he changed forms. you had been shocked the first time you had seen him in his human form. Hyungu was by all means the most beautiful man you had ever seen. with almost white blond hair, high cheekbones and sharp intelligent eyes, he was certainly very attractive. “thank you y/n for saving me, and bringing me here. but are you sure? this is really dangerous for you.” his honey like voice was concerned and caring. “i wouldn’t have this any other way.” you answered.

[lookbluesoup]

Starting Fresh? Or testing it out???

Have been pondering retiring this blog and starting a new one. I've been running this one since 2018 or so and it's been a lot of fun, gone through a few fandoms, but it's also gotten... idk, bloated?

There's so much history here. Lots of old posts that resurface and over 2k followers (though about 96% of those never show up in my notes and I suspect many are dead accounts now)

Which is COOL, I'm not complaining about getting attention or follows. I'm very proud of that, actually.

But... more and more when I get on tumblr I feel obligated to treat it like a social thing instead of a creative thing. I feel I have to make sure I'm meeting these arbitrary "expectations" I've established for myself just because of how long I've been here and how my experiences in different fandoms have shaped my habits. It's a me thing, 100%, but its hard to shake. These days posting my thoughts, fic, and art, is often tinged with the fear of disappointing followers/mutuals.

Basically I've decided I like having a few good friends to hype with and be creative beside, but I don't really like being in a "fandom" and trying to keep up casually with LOTS of different people. I'm just not built for that kind of socialization and I get burnt out in the long run.

I miss being able to make things without the voice in the back of my head fretting over whether its something others will want to read or look at. I want to be able to focus again on just. Creating something. Getting lost in a character or scene or emotion. And sharing it to my blog because it's my blog and it's something I enjoyed making. Not as an effort to connect with other people, but as a way to connect with myself.

I don't think a new blog will just. Make all those hangups disappear. But I do wonder if the change of scenery might help

I might create one and just try things out for a little while, and move over there full-time if i like it. if i do decide to move i'll probably post an announcement and link to the new blog in a pinned post -- or at least make a way for folks to reach out if they're interested in finding me again.

For now I'm just putting it to paper and taking a harder look at how I feel

[b6cky]

Hi, i just read your entire bucky masterlist and I really liked it, dont know why you dont write anymore but i hope youre doing good <3

hi there anon i’m rlly happy to hear u like my bucky fics :) ❤️ i’ve written in a post before why i don’t really write anymore, but i’ll use this anon to explain so ppl can see this when they check my profile :’)

1. why don’t i write anymore?

when i got into moonknight, i made a post for people writing for the show, because i am diagnosed with DID and wanted to give my perspective on how to write a character with DID since i thought it would be helpful for writers who wanted to accurately portray the disorder (despite the show’s slightly inaccurate portrayal due to it being a tv show). i also talked about terminology to use blah blah blah, but the post got a lot of traction and i didn’t really expect it to get that big tbh? and i did get a lot of positive feedback from some people and i was really pleased with that, but i also received a lot of negativity from it, which really weighed on me for a while. i received so many hateful anons of people sending death threats, ableism and some telling me i didn’t have the disorder i had been dealing with my whole life and been diagnosed with? i pretty much stopped logging into this account after this, because it sucked A lot! this account used to be a safe space for me to write fics and now it’s not and i’ve moved from here but i am really glad that people can still read the fics on this account and enjoy them and i will not be deleting any of them, this account will be kept as it is.

2. why don’t i write for bucky anymore?

Tbh i lost the hyperfixation but possibly when the stars align again and i’m somehow hyperfixated on bucky again i’ll write a new fic for the ppl who followed this account for bucky fics 😭

tdlr, i got a lot of hate from a post that was intended to be educational and i was in a bad place mentally for a bit bc of it ��� im v thankful for all the support i’ve gotten though, it means the world to me and i’m happy to hear that people like my writing even though it’s kinda old now 😭

[aris-c0rner]

pre-read: beautiful deception

hello all! ari here, i finally got around to editing, updating, and moving my NCT gang au, “beautiful deception”, off of wattpad and onto tumblr! it’s been about 6 or so years since i first wrote this fic... wow. it got a lot of love on wattpad, but my writing style has changed and grown immensely since i started this, so i figured it was time to give it an upgrade and finish it here on my tumblr. so if you read this fic and it seems really really familiar for some reason, you probably read the initial version of it on wattpad under my old username mineyoonghi!! 

a few things to be aware of before you begin reading:

1. i started this fic waaay back when NCT was ot18, literally days after the “black on black” mv was released lol. that being said, the fic is written with only ot18 until chapter 21, when i found a way to incorporate wayv; i am hoping to find a way to make it ot23 but be warned, you may not see sungchan or shotaro here.

2. i wrote the initial fic on wattpad from a 1st person pov and named the character song seunmae- i decided to change this and instead convert the fic into a reader-insert 2nd person pov, so bye-bye seunmae lol. if you see the words “i” “me” “my” etc. in this fic, that’s just a typo from the original version hehe, please ignore.

3. i got locked out of my wattpad account where i wrote this fic (mineyoonghi) a few years ago because i lost access to the email i used to sign up.. smh. anyways, wattpad has been a bitch about not letting me get back into it so the story is unfinished on there; i’m pretty mad abt it because i had SO many chapter drafts and plot points saved in my unpublished works there, and i have no way of getting back to it to remember where i was going with the story. so everything after ch.21 will be from scratch, since that was the last part uploaded on wattpad for public reading. i’ve called my email provider so much that they know me by name and they still can’t unlock the account for me. ugh.

4. in case i havent mentioned wattpad enough yet, i’d like to say that this gang au was largely inspired by another fic i read on there named “bandaids”!! i totally fell in love with it although i don’t remember the user who wrote it (or if it’s even still up anymore). so if you see a lot of similarities between bandaids and this fic, it’s because beautiful deception was brought to life after reading that one!!

5. if you’re an OG who read the oldie version of this up on wattpad, two things: i love you i love you i love you, and also forget that version pls and thanks its SO embarrassing haha. but seriously, if you remember that version then you remember how weird the ages/personalities were for some of the members,, don’t worry i fixed that here. idk what i was on when i wrote some of the members that way lmao but it’s all good in this fic, it’s much better now.

6. if you were one of my beta readers for mineyoonghi and you remember who the traitor is, DO NOT I BEG OF YOU PLEASE!!! do not comment who it is!! please don’t spoil the reading experience for my lovely tumblr followers,, and for those of you who have no idea what i’m talking abt: it’s not who you think. :)

7. this was such a long note so thank you to all who made it through to the end!! i’m so excited to bring this passion project of mine back to life after so many years, and happy reading! xoxoxoxo times infinity!!!

[kcscribbler]

Hello, dear Author!

For the love of all creative!) Thank God you are available here. Resently I've found you took down your beautiful account on FF.net, though thankfully we can request a resque!

Allow me please to express my feelings a little) Your account, alive and active for so many years, became a source of re-creation and warmth, very human warmth. You are a brilliant author, very inspiring. And your stories are so good now, in my opinion your talent went through overwhelming growth! However you feel about those early fics :-), they are - somehow - a part of my poor little heart (sentimental? yeah, but they just don't deserve to be lost and forgotten). I am very greatful you left your long time fans with a chance to have your old works. 15+ years, thank you so much! *hugggg you! if I may* So, please, send me a copy of your delited stories of ACD-Holmes (and Sherlock, if they are not on AO3) , including the one you took down fist, the elaborated version of Holmes and Watson meeting and moving in together. It was written in the form of a diary (sorry, I have forgotten it's title, though remember much of a story itself xD). And the sequel, even though it was unfinished. And the stories you've written in collaboration with Protector of Grey Fortress. )))

And that story about Watson going to war, when he left hidden messages for a friend crazy with worry - I remember that fic appearing, me reading apdates and waiting for the next chapter. ;) Ahh, memories. Though you said you don't want to go there again and you don't really like those stories anymore, but they are very sweet and charming and so kind. Hope I did not overload you with my wayward emotions, but you don't write to one of your favourite writers every day) And I wanted you to have that "review" here so you'd know how nice is this thing you are doing.

Thank you again. And I am so glad to have an opportunity to come for new tales. ) Those you are writing for Loki... my gods. You are GOOD.

Aaaah, this is such a sweet ask!

Thank you so much for sharing all of that with me, it really made my day!

I haven't connected with PGF in years but will always look back on that era fondly. I left all collab stories up on my FF account, by the way, so you should be good there - I believe most of our collabs were actually posted on hers.

For the rest, feel free to send me a DM with an email address or a way to share links with you (or another ask, which I'll answer privately) and we'll work something out. :)

Thank you again for the lovely message!

[bewires]

fandom and the criticism paradox: an essay

So there was recently some twitter drama about a thread where people were supposed to post "cancelable" opinions about fanfic. unsurprisingly, someone saw something in that thread that applied to their own fic and then deleted all their fics off AO3.

there was some backlash to this incident in two specific ways that I saw:

(a) criticizing the author for being so sensitive/looking at this thread in the first place

(b) rejecting criticism of fanfiction bc fanfiction is not forprofit

to be clear, I have no particular stake in the fic trope in question being criticized or the author who deleted, they are specific to a fandom I am not in. what this makes me think about more than anything is the uneasy role of fanfiction as an art form. (if you disagree that fanfic is art you can stop reading here, that is my central premise).

I've been involved in fandom in one way or another for ~15 years, and I can still recall that in the days of yore on fanfiction.net, people would add "concrit welcome" or "read and CC!" in the notes if they wanted to receive constructive criticism. Actually, when I went back to delete my fanfiction.net account several months ago, I discovered also that I as a 13-year-old was exactly the kind of asshole who GAVE constructive criticism, in a tone that would make me furiously angry if someone left that kind of comment for me on AO3.

I can also recall that as a 13-year-old, I received some dismissive commentary that made me discontinue a fic entirely. It was a terrible fic, it was marauders-era HP fanfic about Sirius Black falling for an OC who was best friends with Lily Evans structured around Beatles lyrics. I shudder to think of it and am thrilled it is lost to the sands of time and internet decay. But when someone left a comment making fun of how unoriginal this concept was, it hurt my feelings and made me move on to a different fandom. (This was literally at least a decade before the two cakes meme).

When I moved over to livejournal, it quickly became clear that this was a safer space to experiment, the worst that would happen there was that a fic would go ignored, not that people would leave condescending criticism. Maybe sometimes someone would message you to point something out, or fix a typo or something, but any sort of criticism was happening in private where I couldn't see it. Livejournal is where I really started challenging myself to write interesting concepts or experimental styles (all of which I also shudder to think of now).

Fast forward to AO3, and it is entirely impolite and not the done thing to leave any sort of criticism on a piece of fanfiction. What's more, AO3 is an archive. The author appears far more as an author rather than as a lowly blog runner among many; it's only when you follow them to tumblr or discord that you get to know the person behind the story, otherwise they appear to you only as an author.

There's still a much greater familiarity than there is on, say, goodreads. Published authors have access to their goodreads pages, they can see everything you say about their books there and some of them do check, but the comforting distance of a publisher and a for-profit book makes us more okay with that than with an ao3-review that lands directly in the author's inbox or the snide remark in the bookmark tags that the author will also see. (although I see y'all out there creating goodreads pages for my fanfiction and that....my dudes that's just weird why are you doing this?)

At the same time, though, the fanfiction author did not invent being sensitive about negative feedback. Authors being butthurt about bad reviews has been around for about as long as books. And I get why! Writing is personal. You put a lot of yourself into each word, and having it be rejected, or even mildly criticized, is uncomfortable and unpleasant. There's something to be said for the fact that it's a lot easier to leave negative feedback than positive. It's much easier to pinpoint what you don't like about something than to praise specific things you liked - I actually think ao3 comments are a great practice arena for giving praise and valuing what's done well, a thing I know I don't do enough irl.

So we can say that one arena which separates the fanfiction author from the published author is the directness with which criticism is received. Critical comments go straight from one user to another. In most cases when I've received them, they have been anonymous, probably because the user knows they're breaking fandom norms. Sure, criticism is hurtful for published authors as well, but they have two benefits: one, they are spoken ABOUT and not TO. And two, which leads me to the second point, at least they're getting paid.

The other big issue people raise is that fanfic authors aren't being paid; they are contributing their fanworks out of love, often in spare time as students or while working full-time. Fanfiction is not a commodity, you aren't buying a service and as such you have no right, as a reader, to complain.

This is not a point I can or want to argue; fanfiction is a labor of love and to see the work someone put in and decide to tear them down over not being great at dialogue or whatever is just a dick move.

But.

The thing that gets to me, the white-hot burning core of this argument to me, is that it can't be absolute. And this is where I run up against the central issue of debates about anything substantive on twitter or tumblr, and also why this post is so fricking long - these points are made briefly and succinctly and when you do that it sounds like you're making an absolute statement about whether fanfic should be criticized at all, ever, and I don't think that works.

See, I happen to think a thread asking for "cancellable fanfic takes" is an easy way to stir shit - it's bound to step on some toes and if you're posting in that thread, you're going to have to be okay with stepping on toes.

However, I also think that people should be allowed to have opinions on fanfic tropes in general without authors taking it personally immediately. Like, here, let me out myself: I don't like high school AUs. At all. Don't read 'em. Sometimes I filter them out on AO3 because I don't want to see them!

What a hot take. If some seminal author of high school AUs in any of my fandoms happens to see this, I sure hope they don't take this as a personal affront and delete their fic, because I'm talking about the trope in general and I have not even read their fics because like I said - I don't like this trope! And I happen to think I should be allowed to say that without being criticized for criticizing!

I even, and this is where I'm being controversial, think I should be allowed to go on at great length about why and in what ways I dislike this trope (I think it often destroys adult characters' agency and I also think most high school AUs are wildly OOC). This is not personal towards writers of this trope in my opinion. I do understand why someone might take it personally and/or disagree, and if they do, it's my responsibility to be clear that I'm not saying this to be hurtful but to express my own issues with the trope, but I still think I can say this on my personal blog in my corner of the internet.

So why is it important that I can lay out my issues with high school AUs? Well, because a lot of the time, the criticism of fandom tropes in general that get the kind of "authors are doing this for free how dare you express criticism" response is not innocuous, it's criticism of fandom tropes that further racism, sexism, ableism, homophobia etc. And I don't think it's a coincidence that this particular case, where a fandom trend for this specific fandom was being talked about in general and an author took it personally, is being used to restate and enforce "no criticism in fandom spaces".

Like...no, fanfic authors are not being paid. Yes, this is a labor of love and doesn't deserve to be treated like published work, lacking both the time and attention from an editor. But at the same time, if you put something out there into the world and let people read it, they can think whatever they want about it, and if they think you are hurting people with it, that should be something they can say. One last anecdote to exemplify this point: A few months ago, I clicked on a fic featuring what was, to me, very clearly a situation of dubious if not entirely lacking consent. The fic was not tagged as such at all. I found it pretty upsetting that the fic did not acknowledge the consent situation at all, and left a comment asking for a dubcon tag. In order to do so, I felt like I had to praise a fic that had upset me wildly so the author wouldn't be hurt by me asking for a tag, and afterwards, I was annoyed at myself for basically grovelling in order to get an appropriate tag I could filter for.

Fanfiction is populated by people who love art so much they want to make more of it, they want to think about it and meta and create. Of course fans think about the art created in their own spaces, and of course they have takes about it!

But I think that when we are discussing the role of criticism in fandom spaces, we must crucially differentiate between

Personal, individually-given criticism

Criticism of craft, i.e. solicited, friendly and clear suggestions to improve pacing, dialogue, whatever

Criticism as abuse, i.e. unsolicited and abusive critical commentary

Meta-criticism, i.e. commentary on tagging/fandom norms (which can easily also be abuse

General criticism

Criticism of craft, i.e. criticism of fandom trends like the way anal sex is often written in ways not at all like it's practiced irl

Criticism of norms, i.e. criticism of structural oppression being recreated in popular story beats

Criticism of tropes, i.e. "why I personally don't like high school AUs" (this can blend easily with criticism of norms)

Why is criticism of norms not part of individually-given criticism? Well, because fandom keeps showing over and over that when racism within a fandom is called out, it ends up with the people doing the calling out being harrassed and threatened and the people creating racist content portraying themselves as victims because "you don't criticize fanfiction".

And that's why I think we need to talk about fandom's uncomfortable relationship to criticism.

[awakeshedreams]

sugar and spice ( 1 )

pairing : resident bad boy!jjk x model student!reader

setting : highschool!au x stepbrother!au

summary :

a messy highschool!au x stepbrother!au where model student reader who has quite a few dirty little secrets sees her world take an unexpected turn when her mother comes home one day with an engagement announcement, to the father of none other than the school's resident bad boy.... Jeon Jungkook.

genre : smut, for laughs, kinda pornish, slow burn with collosaly overwhelming sexual tension

rating: soft m ( for now ) due to adult content

warnings : unconventional relationship of sexual nature, tropes and clichès, teenagers partaking in porn-esque activities, made up things with made up people happening in a made up world, don't like don't read XD

wordcount : 2.3K

a/n : i've been fighting in a long standing war and I have lost. the man known as jeon jungkook had his foot on my neck for years and today, I have finally submitted to my fate and surrendered to his reign.

yes. after a hundred years, i'm writing again. specifically, writing for bts. particularly, writing for jungkook. its been a long time coming.

life just took over and I transitioned into an adult and kind of grew out of the state of mind I was in before. but. sigh. jeon jungkook has been tormenting me the whole time. it was only a matter of time before i relapsed honestly.

so here I am again. in mind, body and spirit, a different person from who I was before but still the same in the sense that with the way bts have my whole heart, jk will always be the demon in the corner of my room that I invite to bed for a cuddle even though it's (probably really) not good for me.

do not misconstrue. I love him more than I can say. but. sigh. he has me in a chokehold, loves. please try to understand where I'm coming from.

anyways, enough with this ranting. you all came here for the nitty gritty so let me not hold you hostage with my dilemma rambling any longer. here's to the first bts fic i've posted in literal years. introducing- sugar and spice.

1 2

Unless they told someone, no one would have been able to guess it.

At school they were complete strangers.

She was the nice head girl with a clean record, all smiles and straight A’s. He was the mysterious bad boy with a track record, all tatted up with bruised knuckles.

She wore plaid skirts with neat pleads in them and pastel sweaters with bows at the collar. He wore jeans with rips in them and leather jackets with studs.

They couldn't have been any more different.

As far as anyone was concerned, they existed on two extreme ends of a vast spectrum.

What they didn't know was that they shared a dirty little secret.

.

You were a girl with many dirty secrets.

For instance, you used to sell nudes online. It was a side hustle you did.

Not because you needed money.

Your mom was a renowned doctor so there was more than enough of that in your life.

Not because you needed validation from people online either.

Even without the constant compliments and the praises you knew you were visually blessed with a pretty face and a nice body too.

All things considered, you simply thought you had a nice pair of tits and you took pictures of them sometimes.

Posting the shots you snapped online came much later when you heard about this website where people were getting paid crazy money for posting racy things.

‘It’s just so degrading…’ It was one of your friends, June, who sneered, pretty nose scrunched up. She fixed her long ponytail and rolled her brown eyes while looking in the mirror at her locker. ‘Who would do such a thing, am I right?’

She said this, but June was the girl who has slept with more boys than she could count on her two hands. And those were the ones she told you about.

Like every other time, you said nothing. Even when it carried on to lunch with the rest.

‘Pretty desperate if you ask me.’ Mei the stellar track runner shrugged casually as she stretched her limbs like routine.

‘Where are their parents?’ Nina the library nerd shook her head in disapproval as she fixed her glasses so it sat right on the bridge of her nose.

‘Um… I don’t think it’s … appropriate… to talk about ….’ Kiko the one who always carried a cross and bible around mumbled into her sleeve.

All your friends spoke of it in derision and repulsion of course. This was a school for proper children so they were proper girls. At least they were supposed to be.

Regardless the conversation sparked a curiosity in you.

So you made an account and uploaded your first picture. Nothing bizarre. Just your tits in a pretty lace bra.

You made sure to keep your face out of the frame because that was the smart thing to do and you were nothing if not the smartest student in school.

In all honesty, you weren’t expecting anything out of it. In fact, in between work with student council and tutoring your juniors with finals right around the corner, you even forgot about it for an entire month.

It was by a complete whim that you decided to open the app while you’d been unwinding at your desk following a tedious day at school.

To say you were amused by the response you found waiting for you would have be a grave understatement.

You were staring at the four figure digit that now sat in your bank account.

Reading through the comment section was even more interesting.

There were all sorts of people there who had all sorts of things to say. Ranging from honestly sweet to downright dirty.

You had never been brought to tears laughing in her life before until then.

It was just so funny to see people misbehave and lose their minds over a pair of tits.

From then on it just sort of became a thing.

.

But that wasn't the worse of your secrets.

You were making a name for yourself on the crude web months later.

The next step was naturally to move from making taking pictures to making videos. Since you was already in too deep you didn’t see why not.

So you upgraded and opened another account. An amateur one where your touched yourself for an audience.

You were no prude.

You might have never been touched by a boy before but you had touched yourself plenty times. Stress and frustration came hand in hand with being head girl. Since you couldn’t quite vent it out at the annoying troublemakers at school, this was your second best option.

Third was watching porn, but that was mostly when you were extremely bored.

But that wasn’t where that little endeavor ended.

Later on it became a lot more risqué.

.

It all started when your mom hit you with a marriage announcement.

She met a guy on her business trip who she really liked and she was convinced he was the one.

Your mom had a tragic history of being a bad judge of character.

You’ve had this conversation at least five times since you became old enough to understand that boys and girls who were just friends didn’t kiss and sleep with each other.

Most times, it felt like she was doing it because she thought you needed a dad around.

You might have once, when you were younger and your mom was too busy with work to be there. But she worked from home these days and you were soo busy with school to worry about things like that.

This time it was like she was doing it for her. You were glad.

Your mom looked genuinely happy when she spoke about this guy.

Who were you to get in the way?

.

She spent almost the whole weekend in the kitchen. It was the longest you’ve seen her in there in your entire life.

She was excited for the dinner on Sunday.

Mr Jeon was the name of the chosen man.

He was coming over with his kid. A son, his only family. His wife passed away years ago.

You wore the dress your mom picked out for you, something cream in color and off the shoulders that brushed your knees. She looked pretty in her champagne dress. It was different from the office slacks and loose blouses you were used to seeing her in.

You stood by her at the door while the guests came through.

Lifting your head from a polite bow, you found herself staring straight into an achingly familiar pair of glinting dark eyes and went completely still.

‘Sweetie,' Your mother said sounding delighted, a soft hand on your stiff shoulder. 'This is Mr Jeon and his son Jungkook.’

Ah. Fuck.

‘Jeon dear, this is my daughter. Isn’t she lovely?’

.

Dinner was a mild affair, with small talk and the occasional clinking of cutlery on fine china.

From the outside looking in, you probably looked the picture perfect family already.

Only if no-one looked close enough.

Arms crossed, tongue in cheek. Your discomfort could be detected from miles away.

The two adults were oblivious.

The dark eyed boy with the slightest wave to his nape touching, brow grazing, ear covering onyx hair sat across you though; he took note of this with a passing glance and wordlessly returned to his food.

Jeon Jungkook had a countenance that betrayed his reputation.

Even though you’ve never talked, you knew plenty about him and you were sure he knew a lot about you too.

You went to the same school.

Dressed as he was in a crisp white dress shirt buttoned at the wrist and dark tailored pants with a fine belt on, it might have been hard to tell what kind of person he really was.

You lifted her gaze from your plate to look study him wordlessly, idly twisting the noodles with your fork.

People either called him the black sheep or the dark cloud but for you, Jeon Jungkook was the school’s resident lone wolf.

He smoked in the secluded areas on campus, sometimes playing his guitar. Beat up people who got on his nerves, sometimes using his guitar. Slept in class the rare times he was there, many times on his guitar.

Being his senior, you had never seen any of any of that for yourself. But you received plenty reports weekly to come to a sound conclusion.

There was no way people hated him enough to join hands in solidarity and make this all up.

It was quite the contrary actually. He had an alarming number of fans.

On the surface level you couldn’t see why. Most times you saw him, he looked bored out his mind and honestly, intimidating.

Maybe it was the tattoos. Or the ripped skinny jeans. Or the leather jackets with studs.

Maybe it was the domineering height and fit frame and structured face.

Maybe it was the intense dark eyes or the silky ruffled hair.

Even then, you failed to see the irresistible appeal in him. All those things that made him up only added to his unapproachable aura.

Bottom line was, he was bad news.

.

You didn’t want to be a spoil sport.

But how much of a thug your mom’s boyfriend’s son was shouldn’t be something that would make her like him less.

They were both their own people. Right ?

It was just that you just didn’t want her to be shocked and devastated if something happened later. When it happened.

Yet it seemed the serious conversation would have to wait.

After dinner your mom suggested you head to the living room to chat over wine and cheese.

You stayed back to do take out the dishes.

Earlier, your mom had stood to do it instead at first.

‘Don’t bother with that, dear.’ She reached for the plates in your hands. ‘Let me do it.’

‘It’s okay, mom.’ You smiled a little. ‘This is your night. I’ll meet you in the living room.’

'Sweetie...' Your mom looked close to tears. ‘But there’s so much of it…’

‘Jungkook,’ his father's voice had cut through the moment. He was a serious man in a crisp suit with a stoic countenance. His voice was just naturally authoritarian without him trying ‘Give her a hand.’

Jungkook stood, almost robotically.

‘It’s fine.’ You said. Politely. Nicely. Tightly. ‘I can handle this much.’

You left without another word.

That had been moments ago and now you were done with cleaning.

You stood at living room entrance for a while, taking in the scene.

The two adults were exchanging moon eyes and whispering in each other’s ears at the love seat.

Jungkook was sitting on a solo seat, but he was on his phone, completely unbothered by what was happening.

Your mom seemed to think it was the perfect time to pull out the photo album right then and there upon seeing you.

It was embarrassing but at least you knew you didn’t have to worry about the pictures spreading at school.

Jungkook was looking, picking up a picture occasionally to rove over, but he wasn’t the type to do that.

He also wasn’t the type to stare but you felt his glance shifting to you and lingering multiple times.

Once, you caught his eyes and he just stared at you across the coffee table wordlessly with a curious tilt to his head, idly flipping a picture of you dressed as a knight in glitter shining armor for Halloween at eight in his hands.

Honestly, it was starting to get annoying.

But you endured. For your mom’s sake.

.

Your alarm went off at exactly ten.

As subtly as you could, you excused yourself with an apology to the guests, saying you weren't really feeling well.

In hindsight you probably should have used a better excuse.

Your mom was notorious when it came to worrying, especially when it comes to your health.

Also, you probably should’ve locked the door before undressing just for good measure since people were over.

But in the moment, you were too busy setting your camera up where you were kneeling on the floor at the foot of the bed to be concerned about that.

That day you were testing out a new toy.

.

Distractedly, you took note of a couple of people asking you if that was your boyfriend’s shirt you had lifted over your tits.

You ignored them.

Couldn’t a girl own an oversized tee without getting any flack?

Trivial comments like that aside, a good majority of the audience are fawning over how wet you were and how perfect you bouncing tits look being played with.

Your head fell back and your eyes fluttered shut.

You were sitting there, knees raised to your chest and legs splayed, your gushing pussy in full display where the toy was stuffed deep into her tightness, vibrating pleasantly.

‘I’m close…’ you mumbled throatily, squeezing your tits and pinching your stiff nipples in between your moving fingers. You moved your hips move faster, feeling the toy buzz against fluttering walls. You took a hand off one of your tits to rub at your engorged clit. ‘Fuckfuckfuck…’

Deep in your high, you didn’t hear the door open and close with a foreboding click.

You only heard your name being called by a deep, smooth voice through the heady haze.

Instantly you stilled.

When you snapped your head to look over her shoulder Jungkook was there, hands in his pockets, leaning against your doorframe with his sleeves drawn up to his elbows, muscle roped, inked skin on full display.

When he tilted his head to the side a little, appraisively, you dared to say as a quaking chill ran down your spine and your entire body felt like it was about to burst into flames, a bit of his hair fell over his face.

His eyes were like two black in the dark as he took you in, dragging his gaze up and down your exposed body languidly.

In the back of your mind, you wished the ground would part and swallow you whole.

‘Your mom,' he starts, capturing your attention wholly, dark gaze finally flickering to your face, his voice suddenly lower, hoarser. ‘She sent me over to check on you.’

It took you a moment to realize where you were, who you were, who he was.

It was like a bucket of cold water had been dropped over your head.

Jeon Jungkook, the school's resident trouble maker, soon to be your step brother, just walked in on you fingering yourself in in front of a recording camera.

Well. Yeah.

You gulped.

You were royally fucked.

depending on the response I get I might ( most probably will ) delete this. not because I'm ashamed of my work. because I'm embarrassed of myself. I really swore to never write again and here I am. sigh. yes, I have seen my previous works and noticed just how terrible they were and this is a big reason why. so sorry for putting you through that. a million apologies.

also, that's right. I have adopted a new style which might not be to everyone's liking. another reason why.

anyways, if you liked this filth ( i know it seems mild but I can tell you it's very likely gonna get worse ) please idk uh... fuck this isn't ao3. hm.

like and drop by in the ask box if you liked it and want to see more. it makes me happy. its like serotonin fuel to me.

have a nice day. see you next time ( maybe ). stay fresh. yeah. 💜💜.

[hwanami]

wanderlust

pairing: jeong yunho x reader

genre: fluff

word count: 2524 words

summary: one day yunho decided to wander around place he has never been before. he didn’t know it would change his life for a long time

a/n: TESTING MY TUMBLR ;_____; so *sigh* i think my account got shadowbanned for quite some times. i am used to not getting many notes, but for the past last posts, it’s like no one even find my post tho i put tags there. getting less notes and getting only 2 notes is a noticeable different and the most noticeable one is that i always tag my network on tags and they always repost it after a few days. but the last several post, they didn’t until months and there’s no way it was intentional and only possible if they don’t find my post on the network tags. at first, just shadowban and then they remove my dm feature and i still think maybe “it’s a new update + i’m getting shadowband” but then one night my account randomly got terminated. i filled their contact support form, tag tumblr on my other social media and after a few days, they finally responded and give me back my account. so with this post, i want to share a new fic plus testing if my account is still shaowbanned :” sorry for the long note... NOW ONTO THE FIC

warning: mention of bleeding

Yunho opens both of his eyes. The sun rays from the window waking him up from his slumber. He sits down and sighs. It’s been a week since he walks away from his home. Leaving behind his childhood, his family. Why did he do that again? Ah, right. Because he doesn’t want to own his father’s business. Because he’s tired being treated nice just because he comes from a wealthy family. Because he just wants to be himself and not tied to his family’s status for once in his life.

He looks at himself in the mirror once he finished taking a shower. His fingers tried to do his tie (which he fails) before he decided to ditch that thing from his look. If he didn’t runaway, he would be eating breakfast with his mom while getting ready to go his dad’s office. The skyscraper building that he always finds intimidating since he was a child. But here he is, in a small room, a random landlord thankfully willing to give to him. And thankfully enough, the landlord is a kind old lady who gives him some foods she cooks too.

“Good morning, Mrs. Choi,” Yunho greets as he bows to his landlord.

“Oh, Yunho! Come, sit here. I cook chicken soup today.”

“Ah, thank you so much, Mrs. Choi. I will pay these foods back, I promise.”

“What are you saying? You don’t have to pay for them!”

A thin smile forms on his face, “I have to. Once I get a job, I’ll make sure to pay it back for you.”

“Right, how’s your job seeking?”

Yunho hummed, the smile turns into a tired one, “it’s kind of hard getting a job since there isn’t much vacancy around.”

Mrs. Choi nods her head, “even in a big city, it is hard to find a job these days. Moreover,” she looks at the young adult eating in front of her, “you move into a much smaller cities than your hometown. It is way harder to get a job here.”

“Right,” Yunho chuckles, “but I’ll get a job soon. I will try my best to get one.”

“If you want to, you can try going to the West part of the city.”

Yunho furrows his eyebrows. Considering he lives in the East, it would be hard to get to the West. Other than the distance, he still not quite knows the route in the East. Wouldn’t he get lost in the West?

Mrs. Choi smiles as she shakes her head seeing the pout in Yunho’s lips, “young man, if you really want to get a job, couldn’t you at least do that much? Going a little mile to get one.”

“Of course, I can,” Yunho sighs, “I was just… scared of getting lost there.”

“Not all who wanders are lost,” Mrs. Choi smiled at him, “who knows you can find a job when you’re getting lost.”

Hearing that, Yunho laughs. “You’re right, Mrs. Choi. I think I will try to go there today.”

“If you want to go to the West, I suggest you to take the subway instead of the bus. The bus might be faster, but they only come once per hour. While the subway come several times in an hour.”

“Oh, thank you so much for all your help, Mrs. Choi!”

“I hope you’re getting what you need!” said Mrs. Choi as Yunho hurries to walk out from her house.

“I hope so!” Yunho shouts as he walks away.

Once the door closed, Mrs. Choi smiles, “I hope he finds whatever he needs to find.”

Yunho rushes to the station. Thanks to his long legs, he can run fast and reach the station fast. He got in the subway just in time and he heaves a sigh when he gets in. Looking around, he looks at the route and counting how many stations he needs to passed through.

“5 stations…” he mumbles.

Now, here is another flaw about Jeong Yunho. He spaces out even after he passed his destinated station. After realizing it, he quickly gets out and look around for information. He looks at the route board and realizes he missed 2 stations. Yunho sighs but instead of going back, he walks out from the station and looks around. He doesn’t know why his feet decided to do that either.

He wanders around the city his feet never landed on before. His mind wanders even further as he walks. It feels like he’s in a whole another world from the world he grows up at. The buildings aren’t as high as the skyscraper where his father works. The road filled with greener leaves than the ones he walked through when he went home from school. And the air feels lighter to breathe.

For a moment, Yunho stops his step, close his eyes, and breathe in the air as much as he can. He just heaves a long sigh when suddenly someone bumps him hard from the back, making him stumbled and fell to the ground.

“Oh my god!” you gasp as you scrunch down to look at the stranger in pain you just bump, “a-are you okay?”

“No,” Yunho mumbles before screeching in pain.

You look at his hand and see the fresh red liquid coming out from his skin, “oh no, you’re bleeding.”

“Yeah, that’s why I said I’m not okay.”

“I’m so sorry, I was running a-and–”

“Are you late for something?” Yunho asks as he finally looks at you.

No wonder it hurts, you just bump into a beautiful statue, you thought to yourself momentarily. Yunho looks at you, confused as to why are you spacing out seeing him.

“Hello?”

“Yes?” you blink your eyes. Yunho chuckles, “are you late for something? It’s because you were running so I assume you’re late.”

“Right,” you heaved an annoyed sigh, “I was late but look,” you pointed at the book store just a few steps away from where you two are, “I work there. That’s why I ran faster since I’m getting close to where I work. I didn’t see you stood there. I’m so sorry.”

You peeked at his hands, “are you going somewhere? If not, you can come to the bookstore and wash your scar.”

“Yeah, good idea,” you help him standing up and dusting his clothes.

The two of you walk in and you were met by your co-worker glare, “did you miss your alarm again?”

You opened your mouth to answer but the tall stranger beats you to it, “oh, no. She didn’t. I just happened to get into accident and she helped me since I’m not coming from here so I don’t know where to go.”

Your co-worker blinked and notice the fresh untreated scars on the man’s hand, “good lord. Sir, you’re bleeding!”

Yunho chuckles, “yeah, that’s why she took me here. She said I can use the sink to wash my scar.”

“Of course, you can! The toilet is that way,” your co-worker points at the direction and Yunho nods at her before going to the toilet.

“What are you doing?” your co-worker asks you.

You look at her, then to the book shelf, then to her again, “doing my job?”

“Go get first aid kit! That man needs to be treated. Didn’t you see his scars?”

“Ah, yeah,” you nod your head, “may I do that?”

“Why are you even asking? Of course, you may! He’s hurt for god’s sake!”

“Well, I was late. So I thought I should do my task as soon as I–”

“Enough talking. Help that man first. He will scare our customer with his scars.”

“Alright, alright,” you sigh before leaving your co-worker and take the first aid kit. The stranger walks out from the toilet just right at the time you get the first aid kit box.

“Thank you for letting me use the sink,” he says with a smile. You look at his hand and how he covers it with tissues. Looks like he (you) scratched both of his hands with the fall. His clothes also got stained by the blood and you sigh at the sight of that. How could you cause that much damage on a much bigger man than you when you just bumped into him?

“Follow me. We need to treat your scars first.”

“Oh, there’s no need for–”

“Come on. You can get infections if we don’t treat them now.”

Yunho closes his mouth then follows you to the staff room. You pull a chair and ask him to sit, which he complies. Slowly, you take off the tissues and took an alcohol swab.

“It will stink a little,” you warn before gently wiping his scar.

Yunho gritted his teeth while holding the pain. You peek at him before focusing on the scars again, “I’m sorry for causing you… this.”

He smiles, “apology accepted.”

You chuckled as your hands took a betadine from the first aid kit box, “this one will hurt more. So, please bear with it for a little more.”

“You know, I– ACK,” Yunho hisses after that, making you stop moving your hand and look at him worriedly. Yunho chuckles, “I was about to say I know it will hurt so you don’t have to remind me all the time.”

“Well,” you chuckle, “I was just telling you so you’d get ready for the pain.”

“Okay, now the last step,” you mumble as you put the betadine back and take a gauze bandage to cover his scars. Suddenly, a thought crosses your mind, “why were you just standing there in the middle of the sidewalk? You know, it’s quite busy hour. Many people walk by. You can get into this kind of accident even if it wasn’t with me.”

Yunho hums, “I was getting some fresh air.”

You snorted, “you sound like someone who comes from a crowd city and not here.”

He looks at you in silence hearing it. Making you look at him since he’s not answering. Finally noticing he’s looking at you all along, you darted your eyes on his scars again and hoping he doesn’t see your cheeks turn red, “w-well, the air here has always been like this.”

“Lucky,” he mumbles, “the air is heavy where I come from.”

“So you’re not coming from here…”

“Mhm,” Yunho nodded his head.

“So, where do you come from?”

“I’d rather not say…” he answers with a heavy tone. It makes him uncomfortable talking about where he comes from. But at the same time, he feels rude for not answering your question.

“Okay,” you reply with a light tone, “I won’t force you to tell me if you don’t want to.”

He smiles before looking down to the scars that has been treated. The fact that you didn’t push him further to talk makes him feel relieved.

“Mind to tell me why are you here if you’re not from here?”

“I’m looking for a job. I’ve been seeking for a week in this city but,” he sighs, “I haven’t gotten any.”

“You’re looking for a job?” you look at him after you finish wrapping the scars on his other hand.

“Yeah,” he chuckles, “my landlord told me to try looking for one around here. Well, not really ‘here’ here – I actually missed the station and got lost here. But she said the West probably has more offer than jobs at the East.”

You hum, “what a coincidence,” you mumble. Making the man blink his eyes.

“Just two blocks from here, my acquaintance just opened a café. He still needs some help and he’s been asking me if I have friends who’s seeking for a job. But all of my friends who are still talking with me are employed in a bigger and better place already.”

“A café?” he’s making sure, to which you affirm it with a nod.

“If you want, we can go there during lunch. I will introduce you to him. But are you okay staying here for a while? Or would you rather walk around here? Who knows you’ll see another offer.”

“I think, I’ll stay here. There’s not much I can do either with this,” he shows both of his hands that are covered with bandage.

“Right,” you nod your head, feeling guilty for it, “well, then you can look around. Seeing the books here.”

“Okay. And you should get going to work too.”

“Right,” you chuckle.

“Oh, by the way,” the stranger says right before you walk out from the staff room. You look at him, raising one of your eyebrows.

“My name is Yunho,” he says with a bright smile.

You chuckle before telling him your name, “nice to meet you, Yunho.”

Yunho smiles watching you walks out from his sight, “nice to meet you too.”

The universe really works its wonder in its own way. The two strangers being met with an unfortunate event. But the domino effect of the fall somehow leads to better things. When you introduce Yunho to Wooyoung, the two of them clicked just like that. The next thing you know Wooyoung scolding you for giving scars to his new co-worker, Yunho. Yunho insisted to start to work right away with the easy task even when Wooyoung tells him to start 2 days later. And still feeling guilty, you promise him to go to the café after your working hour.

You ended up spending the time there until the café closed and you walk side by side with your new tall friend. You tell him the good place he needs to see, the tasty restaurant around he needs to try, and the way to the station and the fastest route.

“Can you believe we were a total stranger just 10 hours ago?” you giggle.

“Right?” Yunho laughs with you.

“Here,” you point the route map on your hand to him, “don’t space out this time! You need to get out in this station,” your finger moves to point the destined station, “then you can take the bus; you should be able to catch it soon after you’re getting out from the station if we’re seeing the time now. It’s faster that way.”

“Thank you,” Yunho smiles at you, “for everything today.”

“I don’t think you should thank someone who injured you.”

Both of you laugh before he smiles fondly at you, “is it okay for me to call you tomorrow? I’m afraid I’d still get lost.”

“Of course! You have my number already. Just call me if you need anything.”

The subway comes after you’re saying that, “you should get going.”

Yunho nods his head, “careful on your way home.”

“You too, Yunho.”

He runs to the subway and you shouted your last message for him for today, “don’t get lost again!”

Yunho laughs and giving you a thumb up before waving at you until the door closed. Once you’re out of his sight, he looks at his hands and smile. His landlord was right, not all who wanders are lost. He gets what he needs; a job, and someone who he thinks would be someone special in his life.

[inactiveblog261838]

hi guys!

this will be the last post i make on this account, so i'm going to pin it once it's posted. it's mostly just kind of me rambling, so feel free to skip to the last paragraph if you're interested in following me on my new account. it will be linked at the end :3

honestly, i feel conflicted as i write this, but i think it's necessary. i have had this blog since i was in highschool. i've posted my writing here for at least 6 years!! over those years, i've gained what i consider to be a pretty big following– more than i've had on any other social media, at least, lol. anyways, i've been writing fanfiction since i was a kid, and for years i was embarrassed by it. i didn't think anything i wrote was worthy of being read, and i didn't think that anyone would like my writing. thanks to this website, i was proved to be very wrong. i've garnered over 5k notes on a fic that i wrote when i was 17– that's so many people!! even now, it's mindblowing to me how many people not only read the things i write, but actually enjoy them. i have received so much love and praise over the years, and i am eternally grateful to every single person who's ever liked, reblogged, or complimented my writing.

as i've had this blog for so long, my interests and my values have changed quite a bit since i was 16. when i first started gaining traction here, i didn't really think too hard about the nuances of being a creator. all i cared about was people liking the things i worked so hard on. it didn't matter who they were, as long as they liked me. over the last few years, i've become less and less active here as i've spent time navigating adulthood, as well as getting into new sources and trying to separate myself from certain older sources that i once wrote for. this blog has been with me through so many different phases of my life, and leaving it behind feels a bit disheartening, but i have taken a lot of time to think about who i am, who i post for, what i want to write about and what i want out of this hobby of mine– and so, i've come to the decision to start anew.

i will not be deleting this blog for several reasons. number one being my own nostalgic purposes. i would like to someday be able to look back and see how i've grown as a writer. i've poured a lot of effort, blood, sweat and tears into everything i've posted here. even the stuff that makes me cringe now. also, my fics still get a pretty surprising amount of attention, even the old ones, and though i'm not happy with some of them now that i look back on it, i can see that others enjoy them, and i don't want them to be lost forever (because i for one do NOT keep track of all the documents on my phone, so there's no option to repost them, lmao).

anyways, i'm saying all this to say THANK YOU to every single individual who has spent time reading my work, every person who's supported me, and every follower. i am endlessly grateful to you all for giving me the courage to keep posting my writing and sharing my thoughts with the world.

moving forward, you can find me at the blog linked below. it simply would take too much time to cleanse this blog of people and fandoms i don't want to further associate with, and honestly, a fresh start sounds rejuvenating. i hope everyone has a happy holiday season, and that the new year will bring you everything you could ask for. thanks for your support.

❤️

[youreyeslookliketheocean]

youreyeslookliketheocean’s DSMP Fic Recs!!

Figured it was about time for one of these... :)

Mostly SBI-centric because they’re my favorite dynamic. I’ll probably add to this list as time goes on, and I also want to go back through my ao3 history and find some lesser-known fics I really enjoyed to rec them all. But for now...

* oneshot  ** unfinished work

** the lights go out (my heart goes still) by curseworm

With his old home unwelcoming and his new one gone, Tommy is alone. After hours of staggering through the freezing snow, he finds a cabin.

Technoblade’s cabin.

He hides himself away in the deepest corner he can find, taking only what he needs to survive, wasting away in the cold and the dark. He’s petrified at the thought of being found out, terrified of what he thinks Techno would do to him.

When Techno finds his injured teenage brother huddled in a filthy little cave beneath his basement, the rage he feels is immeasurable. The voices demand blood, and blood he will give them. Dream won’t be getting away with this one.

(On the other side of the world, in a country that floats on a man-made lake, Philza gets himself in a bit of a pickle.) 

** The hearth down under by Crystalquill

A tiny change gives Tommy the courage to flee to the Nether instead of the cold tundra, finding an unlikely ally in the midst of a fiery hellscape.

But tiny changes can alter the course of history. The SMP will never be the same.

(Lots of cool Nether worldbuilding in this one!!)

to be a wanderer, wandering by hydrangeasheart

Tommy's feet drag in the snow.

It's so, so cold. He's so cold. His toes are freezing. His exposed shins feel like they’ve been cut open-- even the one that’s bandaged. His wings have gone numb, which is almost, almost good, because now he can’t feel the shifting, broken bones inside of the left one, just under feathers and muscle.

He doesn’t know why he’s still walking.

-

Or, Tommy leaves the exploded ruins of Logstedshire behind, and walks until he finds somewhere safe.

And things keep going from there.

(A canon-divergent AU, splitting off somewhere around when Tommy started hiding out below Techno's house.)

that’s, like, a hundred miles by No_one_you_know (and then “as long as i’m here”, and “he’s my brother, i just raise him”)

Dream would kill him. Dream was going to kill him- he was going to- no, he wouldn’t. Dream was his friend- friends don’t hit each other- Dream was supposed to take care of him- Dream /was/ taking care of him.

It hurt to breathe. It hurt to think. He couldn’t clear his thoughts as he stumbled to the family computer, pulling up a tab on google and frantically typing the name into the search bar.

The words Technoblade Watson stared back at him, the little black bar at the end of the letters blinking slowly, mocking him.

Why, of all people, did it have to be Technoblade?

in short: the one where dream sucks as a parental figure, tommy runs away, and visits his least favorite family member technoblade.

passerine by thcscus(blujamas)

Do I really need to put the summary here? Pretty much everyone knows this fic. Also, though, if you enjoy this one you should totally read thcscus’ connected fic, “shrike”!! It’s only at 2 chapters right now but it’s already really good and has this dark, foresty aesthetic I love...

not with a bang but with a whimper by dip_dyed_ghost

He knows Tubbo doesn’t care about him anymore. He knows that. He’s been shown that. But it doesn’t stop Tommy from caring about him. He brushes the pads of his fingers over the compass’s glass and wonders how he’s doing, if he’s tired of it all yet, if he needs help. He watches the way it points strongly in the direction over the ocean. He hopes he’s alright.

Even after everything, he hopes he’s alright.

During his exile, Tommy finds a drugged and hurt Tubbo on his doorstep. He can’t not help him.  

(This one has a neat take on potions, in my opinion. Also it’s only 4 chapters so it’s a quick read!)

take this compass, follow it home by lightning_anon

Tommy's a fuck up, he can't pay attention, and never sits still. He taps his hands, pushes people away, and has never had a best friend. He's a screwed up, forgotten kid lost in the foster system. He's also just been placed with a new family. Tommy knows how this goes, he never ends up staying long. After all, no one wants a fuck up like him.

Why would this house be any different?

Or: the obligatory sleepy bois foster fic, but with a focus on the neurodivergent kids that inevitably get lost in the system.

(Genuinely want to see more books like this in original fiction. It’s part of what inspired my newest og wip, “To Build a Home.” So sweet and I feel like I had my eyes opened to some neurodivergent tendencies I never knew existed. I read this in a day and can’t rec it enough.)

bloodlines by youreyeslookliketheocean

Tommy’s an orphan on the run from his previous guardian. Philza’s a king who prides himself on keeping his kingdom in an era of peace. Wilbur’s the crown prince, and Techno’s right beside him as his adopted brother. When Phil’s kingdom of Pogtopia is threatened by the bloodvines—a strange, brainwashing plant infecting many of the surrounding kingdoms—the four must work together to keep the kingdom, and their family, safe. --- A royal au sbi fic... + the bloodvines, for spice.

(Yes I’m self-promoting. But, in my defense, I’m very proud of it. If you checked it out it would mean the world to me :’))

Heat Waves by tbhyourelame

Dream has always held a gentle admiration for George, but when their nuanced friendship trickles into his sleeping mind, he awakens to a new world of conflicting emotions and longing. Lost in the midst of a heat wave, he continuously listens to a song that works itself in to the very core of his heartache. Floridian nights, unsent messages, spiraling infatuation, and terrible, terrible weather.

Another fic I think pretty much everyone knows about. Listen, listen... I was once an idiot who said “Oh no, I’ll never read Heat Waves. It’s irl, not characters, and it’s probably cringe”... No. I was so wrong. This fic is wonderfully written, with a pretty quick moving plot and great characterizations. You do need an ao3 account to access it, though. Just to let you know. (Also read “Helium”, unfinished and hasn’t updated in awhile, but it’s the continuation). 

Guitar Strings and Keyrings are What it Takes to Build a Home by Anonymous

Techno was adopted by Phil when he was 12 years old.

He'd been enjoying his morning before Phil came to him asking if he would mind them taking in another kid. Against his better judgement, Techno agrees and ends up with two new foster brothers who he was determined to not get attached to, no matter what.

Tommyinnit’s unbeatable method of avoiding sudden death by eneliii

“I uh,” Tommy starts, not knowing how to break this to the hero lightly. He hates to be the bearer of bad news. “I think your powers are broken? It’s not a bad thing of course, but like, I swear you tried to mind control me and it like, totally failed. Which is fine, honestly, don’t feel insecure. Everyone’s power stop working sometimes… I think.”

Sheesh, this is very awkward. Why is no one else talking? Why is Philza looking at him like he grew three heads? Why is the Blade staring at him so intensely? Why is Willow still frozen?

“Did I, did I hit a nerve? Yikes,” Tommy hisses, “Well um,” He steps back, bracing his legs and bending his knees, “This was like super fun, but I’m - I’mma head out.”

or,

in which Tommy manages to annoy the hell out of Phil, Techno and Wilbur by being both impossible to catch and irritatingly endearing.

or or,

a crack fic where Tommy is a vigilante and Phil, Techno and Wilbur are the heroes hunting him down.

(Feel like I am obligated to say how incredibly funny this fic is. Seriously. I have a distinct memory of sitting on my neighborhood park’s swing, giggling hysterically, while reading this. Well...until the end... but we won’t get into that...)

** bones in the ocean by bunflower

“Your reputation precedes you, y’know.”

“Does it, now?” Philza watches him coyly from where he’s now leaning against the wall, arms folded around his chains and gaze half-lidded, his lips curled in an arrogant, cat-like smirk.

“The Angel of Death, the ferryman of the Styx, the terror of the western seas. One of the most feared captains ever to sail, and yet, I have to wonder… how did a man like you end up all on his own? We searched the area where you were found—not another soul in sight. So,” He fixes him with a long look, allowing the silence to hover like a dark cloud, the words rolling off of his tongue with all the venom and smugness he can muster, “—tell me, Philza. Where is your crew?”

OR: Technoblade is a naval captain, and Phil his unwilling prisoner. Somehow, they manage to come out of it as friends in the end.

(Is this fic considered popular like passerine/Heat Waves now? Cause I feel like it’s reputation precedes itself, at this point... Pirate au.)

****

Okay! That’s it for now. Like I said, though, I want to add to this over time and also dig back for some older things I’ve read. Also, if you have any recs feel free to send them in! I’m about to go back to school and therefore might not have time for reading fun stuff, but whenever I get the chance I’d love to check them out!!!

Happy Reading!!

[electricbarnes]

tell me you still see me

steve rogers x reader

summary: steve has been working a lot lately. you begin to have doubts about your relationship.

↳ songs i listened to for inspiration 

wc: 5.9k | warnings: some angst, overthinking, self-doubt, implied smut 

note: this is a repost from my old account that was deleted. so if it’s familiar, that’s why! i wasn’t planning on reposting but i read it over and decided why not. i have another steve fic that i’m almost done with, so i wanted to post this in the meantime. i made a few minor edits. i hope you like it! and if you decide to reread it, thank you x1000 !!

You arrive at your apartment, hands filled with groceries for the week. You struggle to open the door with the many bags on your arms, but eventually make it inside. You kick off your heels and set the bags down on the kitchen counter. After freeing your hands, you reach into your purse to find your phone. You unlock it and tap on the first name at the top of your recent calls.

The phone rings for a bit before you hear the sound of your boyfriend’s voice saying “Hello”.

“Oh my god Steve, you’re never gonna believe what I saw at the store just now,” you say, thinking of the wild thing you witnessed during your shopping trip. It’s not everyday that you see someone throw themselves into a cereal box display. It was a hilarious sight and you just wanted to tell someone about it.

“So, I was just strolling through the isles looking for some snacks when a-” you’re cut off before getting too into the story.

“Honey, can this wait? I’m about to go into a mission briefing,” Steve says in a hushed tone. Immediately, you feel guilty for interrupting him while he’s busy. It was well into the evening and you had assumed he wouldn’t be working.  

“Oh, uh yeah of course! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt anything,” you apologize.

“That’s okay,” he reassures you, “I’ll call you later.”

“Okay, talk to you later then.”

The phone beeps, indicating the call was over. You sigh and go back to the task of putting your groceries away.

You decide to lounge around the rest of the day, trading your work clothes for some comfy sweats and a tee shirt. You spend the night mindlessly scrolling through social media while reruns of some sitcom play on the tv. You even send Steve a few memes here and there. You’re not really sure if he’ll understand them but they reminded you of him.

After eating a late dinner, you channel surf for a bit before putting on a random movie. When the movie finishes, it’s nearly 11pm and you realize that Steve hasn’t called you back. You pick up your phone, tempted to call him but decide it’s better to wait till tomorrow. He hasn’t replied to your texts, so there’s a chance he’s still busy despite the late hour.

Unfortunately for you, being a superhero is a full time job, which means that Steve can be busy at any moment of any day. You knew this going into a relationship with thee Captain America. To be fair though, you didn’t think you’d actually get to know the super soldier like you do now.  

When you met Steve, he was just some handsome guy at the park who helped you with directions when you were visibly lost. You ended up seeing him at the park again a couple days later. Recognizing you, he stopped and asked if you wanted to get a coffee. Who were you to deny this man?

You spent two hours in a café getting to know each other before exchanging numbers. In hindsight, his vague answers about his career were a little suspicious. It wasn’t until you went home that night and saw a picture of Steve in a tweet captioned “idc that captain america is like 100 yrs old, he can still get it 😍”.

Needless to say, you were shocked. While you were feeling dumb for not recognizing him sooner, you also wondered why he didn’t say anything. After an awkward confrontation about the subject, he explained how he didn’t want you to go out with him just because he was Captain America. You were quick to ease his worries and reassure him that you were interested in Steve for Steve, not for his heroic persona.

Since then, your relationship with Steve has been nothing but amazing. He was always so sweet with you, taking you on simple but romantic dates. There was something about that 40s charm that was so endearing. You loved the small things, like how he would always open the door for you or how he would bring you flowers on each date. It was so easy to talk to him about anything and everything. You felt like he was not only your boyfriend, but also your best friend.

There were times where you wondered why he ever picked you, an average person compared to the super people he’d work with everyday. He could’ve had anyone he wanted. Steve would say that you were like his sanctuary from the hectic world of being an Avenger. It meant a lot to you that you could be that person for him. You thought he deserved some peace after everything he’s been through. He wanted to protect you from the evil that inherently came with the job, which you understood, so he rarely spoke about the missions he’d go on. The less you knew the better. Though sometimes, you would wish he’d open up more about what was going on while he was away. Especially since he would be gone for days on end.

It was only a month into your relationship that you realized how hard it’d be when he would leave to be Captain America. It was his first time leaving for a mission that lasted longer than a day. He had to spend a week in some place on the other side of the world with no way of contacting him. Of course, you were worried the entire time he was gone. Despite trying to distract yourself with work and personal tasks, Steve was always at the forefront of your mind.

You had never felt such relief than the day he called you after a whole week of silence. Steve had even asked you shyly if he could come over that night. You felt butterflies in your stomach when he told you that he needed to see you. It was the first time he had spent the night at your place. Having Steve’s arms wrapped around you the entire night just felt right. You knew as early as then that you loved him.

Over the year that you had been together, those long missions became easier to manage. You’d always trust that he’d come back to you in one piece. Steve would sometimes feel guilty about being away for so long that he’d try to make it up to you by taking you on an extraordinary date. But you always assured him that you were happy to just be with him, even if it was just something like the two of you watching a movie at your place.

Lately, Steve has been more distant with you. You’ve chalked it up to the fact that there’s a literal distance between you two since he’s moved upstate to the newly built Avengers compound. Before, he was just a short drive away from the Avengers tower to your apartment. Now, he’s hours away from you. There were discussions of you moving in with him, but your job was in the city and you couldn’t leave that behind.

You both decided to make the best of the situation, calling and texting whenever possible. FaceTiming was the usual occurrence throughout the week, often before bed. You’d tell him about your day in the office and he’d tell you about the new recruits he would train. On the weekends, he’d stay over at your place. It was rare that you’d stay at the compound. Steve said he’d preferred your apartment, claiming it was homier than the compound. Plus, you’d actually have some privacy.

For a long time, it had been a good system. You love Steve and did anything to make the relationship work because he’s worth it. Yet, you couldn’t help the lonely nights where you wondered if he felt the same.

Calls were less frequent. Texts were unanswered. Weekend plans were cancelled because Steve would be assigned to missions during those days. You’d understand, of course. He’s out there saving people! You can’t fault him for that, but it doesn’t stop you from missing him.

Now, it had been almost two weeks since you’d last seen him in person. You had texted him throughout the day, but texting wasn’t his favorite thing. Texts were usually reserved for quick check-ins and reminders of I love you’s. He preferred calling and you did too, hearing his voice was much better.

After learning that he had been back from a short mission, you texted him.

You: FaceTime later? ☺️

You were eager to see him, even if it was through a screen. You were just hoping he had the time.

Steve ♡: Sure.

Later that night, you sat on your bed with your laptop, opening up FaceTime. After a few rings, Steve’s face appears on the screen. A smile immediately breaks out on your face.

“Hi babe!” you say cheerily, finally getting to see your boyfriend after what felt like forever.

“Hi honey,” he says with a soft smile.

Your smile dims a bit, eyebrows furrowing when you recognize the background. “Are you still in your office?” It was pretty late and you assumed he’d be in bed by now.

“Yeah, I was finishing up on some mission reports,” he explains, shuffling some papers on his desk.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I thought you’d be done by now,” you apologize, recalling the last time you had interrupted him from his work.

“No, no” he waves his hand, “I thought I’d be done by now too, but it’s a lot more than I expected.”

You frown at the thought of your boyfriend overworking himself. You want to ask him about it, but you know he’ll say what he always does when you ask about his missions: It’s classified.

“You’re not stressing yourself out too much, are you Steve?” you ask, concern evident in your voice. Even through the hazy quality of the webcam, you can see the tired look in his eyes.

“Never,” he says with a smirk.

“Somehow, I don’t believe you,” you say with a teasing tone.

“You’ve got nothing to worry about honey,” he reassures you. “Besides, I wanna know what you’ve been up to.”

You scoff, “well, it’s definitely not nearly exciting as your week must’ve been.”

“I still wanna know,” he says with that boyish grin you love.

Steve always knew how to make those butterflies appear. You end up telling him about the incident you witnessed at the store which makes him laugh as he imagines the odd sight. He tells you about a prank Tony pulled on him and Sam and you beg him to send you the recording of it. He refuses, but you know you’ll get your hands on the footage eventually. Things felt normal again, just talking to him.

“So I was mixing the dough and halfway through I realized I completely forgot about the eggs,” you were in the middle of telling him about the new recipe you ended up ruining earlier this week.

Steve hums in response. You notice him looking to the side, not looking at the screen and you hear the sound of typing.

“and then a blue monster broke into my apartment,” you make up in an attempt to get his attention.

“Mhmm”

“and he stole all the cookies,” you continue.

“Hmm”

“Steve,”

Silence.

“Steve,” you say with a little more force.

“Huh?” he finally looks up at the screen.

“You’re not listening to me,” disappointment laces your voice.

“I was,” he quickly defends but you don’t buy it.

“Uh huh,” you cross your arms and lean back against your headboard. “What was I talking about?”

Steve glances elsewhere, not meeting your eyes when he mumbles “something about a party?”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes. “yeah, like 10 minutes ago.”

“I’m sorry honey, I was listening, really… but these reports need to be done,” he says with an apologetic look on his face.

You couldn’t stay mad at him, but you did feel hurt that he would pretend to listen rather than just telling you something.

“Okay,” you sigh. “I’ll let you get back to work.”

He must notice the disappointment on your face because he apologizes once more.

“I’ll make it up to you honey,” he promises.

“Are you coming this weekend?” you ask hopefully. He couldn’t come last weekend and you were missing him terribly.

“Of course,” he gives you a tired smile that you return.

“Okay, finish those reports and get some sleep,” you instruct, emphasizing the last part.

“Yes ma’am,” he raises his hand, mock saluting you which makes you giggle.

“Goodnight Stevie, I love you,”

“Love you too sweetheart”

The call ends and you go to bed with a smile on your face.

The rest of the week goes by quickly. You’re excited to get to the weekend because that means you can finally see your boyfriend, in person! Not just behind some screen. It’s been almost three weeks since the last time he came over and you miss his touch.

It was Friday afternoon and you were sitting at a small table in the cafe you frequent, taking a lunch break. Halfway through your break, you got a call from Steve. You were a little surprised to see his picture pop up on your phone since you’re usually the one to call him. Nevertheless, you smiled and answered “Hi babe.”

“Hey honey,” he greets.

“I’m glad you called, I was thinking of picking up a few things from the store after work today. Do you need anything?”

“Uh… about that,” he says in a low voice. Your heart immediately sinks, already knowing what he’s going to say next.

“You’re not coming.” A statement, not a question.

“I’m sorry honey. A mission came up and we leave tonight,” he explains and you almost want to laugh. Of course he’s leaving again.

“How long?” you ask. Maybe it’s just for a day and he can still come on Saturday or even Sunday.

“Two days… maybe three,”

You take a moment to process his words. Part of you saw this coming. It seemed too good to be true that you’d finally have him all to yourself. You glance up, trying to fight the sudden feeling of tears in your eyes. You didn’t want to cry in the middle of a busy café.

“There’s… there isn’t a chance you can skip this one?” you hesitantly ask. Normally, you’d just accept it, but your patience was running thin. This is the second time in a row he’s cancelled on you.

“You know I can’t. This is important,” he says it so sternly, like he doesn’t realize he’s breaking your heart. The missions are always important. More important than you.

“Yeah, but you’ve been working nonstop. I mean, don’t you want a break? Aren’t there others who can go instead?” you argue, voice raising.

“Y/N, I’m going. I have to,” he insists, leaving no room for an argument. You knew how stubborn Steve could be, so you knew he wasn’t going to change his mind on this. Rationally, you knew he probably had no choice in the matter but you took a chance anyways.

“Okay,” you relent.

You can hear Steve sigh before saying, “I’ll make it up to you.”

He’s been saying that a lot lately, but you know they’re empty promises.

“Okay.”

“I love you,” he says much softer than his previous tone.

“Love you too,” you say back, but your heart hurts.

Before you met Steve, sleeping alone wasn’t so bad. Some nights you would be on your phone, scrolling through social media till you eventually got sleepy. Other times, you’d lie in bed staring at the ceiling thinking about your day and mentally planning the next. Too often you found yourself overthinking about something you did, something you wish you could change. Or you would be anxious about something coming up, running through different scenarios of how it’d go. For some reason, your mind wouldn’t let you succumb to the sleep that your body desperately needed. But you were used to it.

Then Steve came along and he’d be there to ease your mind. On the nights he would stay over, sleep came much easier. There would still be nights where your mind kept you awake, but Steve would be lying right next to you. You’d be on his chest, his hand soothingly rubbing your back as you told him about that meeting you were nervous about or how you got in trouble by your boss for a simple mistake. Steve would assure that everything would be okay and you found it easy to believe him.

He always knew when you needed a distraction from your worries, bringing up mundane things like last night’s baseball game or telling you about the modern music he actually started to like. Sometimes, he’d tell you a story from his life in the 40s. Stories like how his friend Bucky would drag him all over town, trying to find a date for the evening. Or about that time he had to star in an action movie when he just started out as Captain America (which you made a mental note to find later on Youtube). You loved hearing about Steve’s old life, curious about what made him into the man you love today.

Sometimes he’d just entertain your wild thoughts, especially when you’re half asleep. Conversations like how different life would be if dinosaurs never went extinct or if flat earth conspiracists were right. You’d be lying with your back to his chest, his arms wrapped around your waist while you mumbled any thoughts that came to mind. He’d listen till he heard your soft snores and he’d give you a gentle kiss on your head before he’d fall asleep too.

Then there would be nights where words would rarely be spoken. A night of soft moans as he took care of your body in ways only he knew how. He’d whisper praises, drawing out moans from you as he hit all the right spots. It was always different and exciting. You never knew what to expect, but he would always be so loving. You’d always stay close, basking in the afterglow.  

After having the comfort of Steve in the night, the times he’s not there feel a lot lonelier than before.

Like now, you’ve got your eyes closed but you’re not sleeping. Your thoughts seem louder than ever and they’re all about Steve. It probably doesn’t help that you decided to wear one of his tee shirts to bed, the faint smell of him making you miss him even more. After he cancelled on you (again) this past weekend, you started to wonder if he even wanted to see you at all.

You want to be mad at him, but how can you be? He’s Captain America! He has a responsibility that he can’t ignore, not even for his girlfriend. Lately, you can’t help but be worried at how many missions he’s been going on. To make matters worse, you’re left in the dark about all of it. He says it’s safer if you don’t know. You just have to trust him and trust that he needs to go.  

But what if he doesn’t actually need to? What if he wants to go so he doesn’t have to see you. Okay, that’s extreme, but it’s a possibility? It seems like he doesn’t even want to talk to you at all sometimes. You’re always the one texting and calling. It’s never really him unless it’s to let you down (again). Maybe you’re just being needy. Were you asking for too much? Are you overreacting? Probably. But it’s normal to be upset about not seeing your boyfriend for weeks, right?

You shake your head, trying to get rid of these thoughts. You pick up your phone from the nightstand. The clock reads 3:12am. You unlock your phone and open your messages to see the last few texts Steve sent.

Steve ♡: I’m sorry.

You: just be safe

             —

Steve ♡: I’m back.

You: okay

Your thumb hovers over the call button for a good bit, contemplating if you want to bother him so late at night. Before you can overthink it, you hit the button. You turn to lay on your side with the phone against your ear, anxiously waiting for the ringing to stop.

“Hello,” Steve answers, voice deep and filled with sleep. You feel guilty for waking him up, but at the same time feel relief at the sound of his voice.

“Hi,” you say shyly. Honestly, you weren’t expecting him to actually pick up. You were prepared to just leave a voicemail.

“Is something wrong?” he mumbles.

“No, no. There’s nothing wrong… I just…” you can feel the heat rising in your face, suddenly embarrassed for some reason. “I just miss you,” you say quietly, not even sure if he’s heard you.

You can hear the shuffling of sheets.

“I miss you too sweetheart,” he says and it warms your heart for a moment, “and as much as I wanna talk right now, I have to be up in a couple hours for a mission.”

“Oh,” the small smile you had on your face quickly disappears. You had no idea he was leaving again even though he just got back the day before.

“I’ll call you tomorrow, okay hon?” he says tiredly.

You feel a lump in your throat forming but you push past it, “yeah… yeah, of course.”

“Love you,”

“Love you too,” you practically whisper.

The phone call ends and the tears start to slide down your face. You didn’t have the energy to fight them anymore.

The last call you had with Steve a few days ago left you torn between logic and your emotions. You knew he was just tired, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that something had changed between you two. In the past, he never seemed to mind talking to you, even in the odd hours of the morning. You always believed that you guys were so in sync. It seemed like he knew when you needed comfort and would be there to provide it.

You would be able to tell when something was off with Steve and though you would always offer to talk about it, he would brush it off. Thinking back to it, maybe he never really opened up to you for a reason.

You began to question if you are more invested in this relationship than he is. It feels wrong to even think so, considering how sweet and caring he is, especially with you. But everyone has their limits, right? Maybe he’s just gotten tired of you. It’s clear that work is his number one priority right now, maybe he doesn’t have time for a girlfriend anymore. He always makes promises of making it up to you another time, but maybe there will never be another time.

The thought of him leaving completely sends a pang of hurt to your heart.

You: can we talk?

You had sent Steve that text what felt like forever ago, but in reality has only been 20 minutes. You had spent that time repeating in your head what you were going to tell him while you paced back and forth around your living room. You were going to ask for a break. You didn’t want to break up with him completely, no, but you thought that this would be better in the long run. You’re hoping a break will give him the space he needs and then you guys can go back to the way you were. You figured it was better to let him focus on being a hero. You didn’t want to become the clingy girlfriend that he’d eventually resent.

You had no idea how he would react. Maybe he would agree. It’ll be tough, but every couple goes through something like this, right? Sure, it’s a special circumstance with you dating an Avenger, but other people have busy partners. You wonder how they manage a relationship when they don’t see each other so often. Maybe you were giving up too easily? But you’re tired of feeling pushed aside, like you aren’t his priority when he’s at the top of your list. You’re tired of feeling guilty for being upset when he can’t come see you. You’re just tired of feeling like you’re losing him.

Just as you start to doubt your whole plan, your ringtone breaks the silence. You pick up your phone with a shaky hand and tap on the answer button.

“Hello,” you say, hoping he doesn’t notice the nervous tone of your voice.

“Hey honey, you wanted to talk?”

“Uh, yeah…” you reply, already struggling to keep your voice even.

“Is everything alright?” he’s concerned and you can imagine the look on his face.

“Yeah…yeah,” you lie, “I uh… I just wanted to talk… about us.”

“Listen honey, I’m sorry about last week but it was really-“ he begins to apologize, but you shake your head, not wanting to hear another excuse.

“It’s more than that Steve,” you interrupt.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean…” you hesitate, trying to gather your thoughts. “Do you realize it’s almost been a month since we’ve last seen each other?”

There’s a pause before he answers, “…I didn’t know it had been so long.”

“Do you even care?” you ask, voice giving in to the mix of anger and sadness you feel. The tears begin to well up in your eyes.

“Of course I care, you know I do” he defends.

“Do I though?” you question. The rehearsed words you mentally prepared are long gone. “…I’ve been sitting here thinking of what I’m doing wrong because I feel like something’s changed between us.”

“What are you talking about?” he sounds genuinely confused, “Nothing’s changed.”

“Steve… we don’t talk like we used to, I barely get to see you. I miss you all the time.”

“I know I’ve been working a lot lately,“ he acknowledges.

“And I don’t blame you for that,” you clarify.

“I know how important your job is, but… but I’m feeling a little left out here,” your voice cracks at the end. You wipe the few tears that started to fall down your face. “I mean, I feel like I barely know that part of your life. You’re gone most of the time and you never talk to me about it.”

“I can’t, for your safety. We’ve discussed that.”

“Yeah and I thought I could handle it, but you’re giving me nothing here,” you argue. “I wanna be there for you Steve, but it’s hard when you don’t tell me what’s going on.”

“I... I can’t. I want to but it’s better if you don’t know,” he says pleadingly. You want to believe him, but you just can’t seem to let this go.

The silence lingers over the phone.

“Maybe we should take a break,” you eventually say with defeat.

“A break?”

“Maybe we just need some time to sort things out. You can focus on your work and when things get better… we can try again.”

“No, no…” he starts to argue, “that’s not fair.”

“Steve, please…” you beg, “just try to see where I’m coming from. I still love you, I always will. I just think we need this.”

He doesn’t say a word, making you anxious.

“Steve-”

You’re cut off by the phone hanging up. You sit in disbelief, letting the weight of the conversation fall on you.

You spent the rest of the night just curled up on the couch. You keep questioning your decision. In your mind, this was the right thing to do, despite the heartbreak you knew you’d be feeling. But you didn’t think it would hurt as much as it does now.

Steve’s reaction made you rethink the idea of a break. You worry that he thinks you don’t love him anymore when it’s the complete opposite. You did this because you love him. You didn’t want to lose him completely, but it looks like you lost him anyways. Maybe, deep down, a part of you was trying to save yourself from the inevitable heartbreak.

The living room was dark, the only light coming from the street lights outside. The tears have stopped flowing, but the headache lingers. It’s almost 2 in the morning and despite being worn out from crying, you have trouble sleeping. You’re about to get up for a glass of water when you hear a knock on your door.

Your first reaction is to panic, because you weren’t expecting anyone at such a late hour. You mentally run through the self defense moves Steve insisted on teaching you. Slowly, you approach the door, trying to not make any noise.

Knock knock knock.

“It’s me.”

It’s softly spoken, but you hear him loud and clear. You quickly open the door to reveal Steve with a look of sorrow on his face. You can’t help but stare at him in shock, taking in his disheveled appearance.

“I don’t want a break,” he says hoarsely, breaking you out of your trace.

You all but pounce toward him and wrap your arms around his neck. He immediately wraps his arms tightly around your waist. You bury your face in his neck, inhaling the familiar scent that reminds you of home. Despite everything that happened over the phone, you feel a flood of relief from finally being in his arms.

You stood in his embrace, relishing the feeling of him being there for a good minute before you pulled away. You meet his eyes, noticing the tears surrounding them and it hurts your heart.

“We should talk,” you say, voice rough from the crying just hours ago.

You’re sitting side by side on your couch. You look at him and can’t believe that he drove all the way to your place in the middle of the night. You can see the worry on his face and you want nothing more than to comfort him, but you hold back because you want an explanation first.

“So..” you start off, “you don’t want a break?”

“Y/N, I know I’ve messed up, but please don’t give up on us,” he says with pleading eyes.

“I don’t want to. I thought that’s what you would’ve wanted. I thought…” you shy away from his stare, “maybe you didn’t want me anymore.”

Steve looks at you with guilt, realizing for the first time how much he’s hurt you, “I’m sorry… I know I’ve been saying that a lot lately but I never wanted you to feel like I didn’t want to be with you.”

“Then what's been going on?” you ask, looking back at him, determined to know why it took you asking for a break to get him here.

Steve looks down at his hands, visibly nervous. Why? You have no idea.

“Talk to me Steve,” you encourage him. “Please.”

He turns to look at you, taking a breath before saying “I’ve been looking for Bucky.”

You’re immediately confused. Out of all the things you thought of him saying, this was never one of them.

“Bucky? Bucky Barnes?” you question. You knew of his friend from the stories he would tell you. Bucky was practically a brother to Steve.

“Yes,” he says easily, but it just makes you more confused. The thought of Steve going crazy briefly crosses your mind.

“He’s the Winter Soldier,” he explains. You recognize that name from the news. He was a part of the incident that happened in DC.

“What? H-How would that even be possible?” you question, not really being able to wrap your head around it. From what you knew, Bucky died in war back in the 40s.

“HYDRA was using him. They found him after he fell from the train and they brainwashed him for decades until I was able to snap him out of it when we fought in DC,” Steve continues, “After he saved my life, he disappeared.”

The pain in his voice is evident as he talks about his friend. You scoot closer to him and you take his hand into yours, offering him comfort.

“Sam and I have been following any lead we could to find him,” he explains, “I’ve been doing that along with all the other missions I get sent on. That’s why I’ve been gone so much.”  

It finally makes sense to you.

“Oh Steve,” you say, “I wish you would’ve told me this sooner.”

“I know honey, I should have…” he squeezes your hand, which you reciprocate.

“HYDRA is evil. I’ve seen how cruel they can be,” he continues. “The thought of them coming anywhere near you kills me,” his voice filled with emotion and his eyes gloss over with tears. “Sometimes it’s hard for me to get out of that headspace…”

He looks away from you, head down, “you shouldn’t have to deal with that.”

You reach over with your free hand to touch his face. “Steve,” you turn his head to look at you. His blue eyes shine even in the dim lighting. “Please don’t shut me out. I want to know these things. You don’t have to tell me everything, but I just want to be there for you. You shouldn’t have to go through this alone.”

Your eyes beg him to understand you. “And I get it now. Bucky is your friend and I know you’ll find him again someday. Just don’t put all that stress on yourself,” your thumb wipes away a stray tear falling down his face. “I want to help you in any way I can. You can always come back to me.”

He subtly nods and looks at you, faces only a breath apart. “I don’t deserve you,” he says quietly, like he’s in disbelief.

He closes the distance, lips finally meeting yours. Your eyes flutter shut, as you continue to cradle his face in your palms. You focus on conveying all your love for him into the kiss. You pull away briefly to move on to his lap as he leans back into the couch. His hands naturally fall on your hips as you get impossibly close.

You break the kiss again, “Promise not to leave me again,” you plead, but your tone is much lighter this time. You never wanted to leave his arms again.

He looks up at you, eyebrows furrowing a bit, “I can’t promise that,” you give him a sad smile, already knowing that. His hand leaves your hip to push a stray hair behind your ear, “but I can promise that I will talk to you more and show you how much you mean to me more often. ”

You genuinely smile at that.

“This is important to me,” he says, pulling you closer, emphasizing his words, “you’re important to me.”

“I love you”

“I love you too,”

You lean back in to kiss him again, smiling in between because you’re happy to have your Steve back. And you know things will get better from here. There’s still going to be some tough nights when you miss him and he can’t be there, but you know he’ll be missing you just as much. You won’t have to doubt his love for you again.

You pull away once more, “Remember how you said, you’d make it up to me?” you question with a mischievous look in your eye.

“Yeah,” he says looking at you expectantly.

You simply raise your eyebrows and smirk at him. He catches on and mouths an “oh”.

You’re lifted from the couch so you latch onto Steve’s shoulders, giggling loudly at the sudden movement. He carries you into your bedroom, where he definitely made up for lost time.

You slept much easier that night.

hope you enjoyed reading! 🤍 reblogs and feedback are much appreciated!! let me know if you liked it :) 

[youbloodymadgenius]

Ivarello (Modern!Ivar x reader) Chapter 1

Moodboard by @quantumlocked310

Ivarello’s masterpost here

A/N: This is my entry for @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie 500 Followers Fairy Tale Challenge. It's a retelling of Cinderella. Congrats again, darling 💖

A huge thank you to @mrsalwayswrite, who's a great beta reader and an even greater cheerleader 😂

A massive thank you to @quantumlocked310, @vikingstrash and @serasvictoria. Thank you for agreeing to collaborate and for sharing your talent with me. Your moodboards are beyond amazing 🤩

In this story, Sigurd is alive. Ragnar and Aslaug are dead, but Lagertha didn't kill her. I took a lot of liberties with the show, I hope you won't mind.

Unlike the tale, there will be no magic involved. Not everything will be realistic, however. It's a fayritale, after all!

Let me know if you want to be tagged 😊

Summary: Orphaned five years ago, Ivar and his brothers have been living with Lagertha ever since. Now 16 years old, he wants to attend Harald's traditional Midsummer party, but obstacles stand in his way.

Warnings: description of car crash; orphaned kids; Sigurd being Sigurd; OOC characters.

Words: 1806

Additional note: I'm afraid I'll disappoint some of you. No more newspapers... The articles defined the setting of the story. From now on, it'll be a regular fic.

Hope you enjoy it nevertheless 🙂

🛡⚔️🛡

June 2021

Ivar yawns, rubbing his eyes, when he suddenly hears the front door open. The next moment, Ubbe shouts, "Hey baby bro, we're home!"

Slightly confused, Ivar looks at the time on his computer. Stunned, he blinks repeatedly, shakes his head and checks the time again, now looking at his watch. "Guess I lost track of time," he mumbles as he realizes it's really 5:30 pm. He clears his throat. "I'm coming!"

Yawning once more, he wheels to the kitchen. Hvitserk waves at him with one hand as Ubbe greets him with a grin and Sigurd... Well, Sigurd ignores him, as usual.

"Hello boys!" Lagertha smiles as she also enters the kitchen. "Did you go to the beach this afternoon?" It's a rethorical question, since sand can be seen on the tanned skin of his brothers, shirtless and wearing only swimming shorts.

When she looks down at him, her smile becomes softer. "Ivar, you seem tired. Did you work all day long?"

He nods, glad that for once she called him by his first name and not by one of those stupid nicknames that she likes but that make his skin crawl.

"Yep," he shrugs without smiling back, "I made good progress. The new version of your website is almost done. It could probably be online by the end of the week."

His stepmom flashes him a beaming smile. "Great, thanks!"

The conversation then moves on to the subject that everyone in Kattegat has been talking about for the last few days: the midsummer party thrown by their neighbor Harald Hårfager. Every June, it is Kattegat's not-to-be-missed event, to which every resident hopes to be invited.

Lagertha is invited every year, yet rarely attends; his brothers wouldn't miss it, not in a million years; Ivar never went.

He listens with half an ear as his brothers prattle on about the upcoming party, while taking a seat at the large, wooden kitchen table on which Lagertha has just put cakes and drinks.

"What are you going to wear?"

"Do you think Marit will attend this year?"

"Hopefully the music will be better than last year."

"Can't be as bad! What was the name of that reggae band?"

For a fleeting moment, Ivar entertains the thought of attending as well. Not that he's dying to, but… Sometimes, he feels a little bit like Cinderella in this house.

Don't get him wrong, it's not that bad.

First, his stepmom is not–

Wait, wait, wait, is Lagertha technically his stepmom? He's not sure. After all, she wasn't when his parents were alive, she was just his father's first wife. Anyway, she may be his guardian now, but he sees her as his stepmom and he honestly doesn’t give a shit if it's a little weird.

Where was he? Oh yes, Cinderella.

So obviously, Lagertha is not a wicked, haughty and abusive stepmom like this Lady Tremaine of the fairytale.

Actually, even if it pisses him off to admit it, she's pretty nice, patient and composed. Does he love her? Let's not exaggerate – he doesn't. She may love him though, which is a little bit uncanny, if he's being honest. He was the favorite son of her nemesis. Shouldn't she hate him? He would, if the situation was reversed.

The truth is, when he was younger, he tried, he really tried to hate her, blaming her for everything and anything. When too much pain prevented him from sleeping, he let his imagination run wild. There, bound to his bed of suffering, he could see Lagertha cutting the brakes on his mother's car, causing her crash, causing her death.

Of course, even then, he knew deep down that Lagertha had not killed his mother; that the story he told himself was just the product of his endless nights of insomnia. But what can he say? He needed this. Because blaming Lagertha rather than admitting that his beloved mother was at fault – by being distracted, or by falling asleep, he'll never know – was easier for the heartbroken boy he was.

Anyway... So yes, Lagertha is definitely not an evil stepmother like Cinderella's.

Also, he doesn't sleep on a sorry garret, on a wretched straw bed either.

Actually, he has a very large room on the main floor, with a king-size memory foam bed, a walk-in – well, a wheel-in for his case – closet and his own, huge bathroom, fully equipped for his special needs.

Sure, the bathroom and the dressing room were already there when his parents were alive; however, the memory foam mattress had been Lagertha's idea.

Anyway... So yes, he can't exactly complain about his sleeping conditions, unlike Cinderella.

And obviously, he's not forced into servitude.

Actually, one might think so, but no, he's not. Sure, sometimes he works for his stepmom, like today. But so do his brothers. When she had taken them in, she was a powerful businesswoman, working twelve to fourteen hours a day. Once she had become their guardian, she had rearranged her working time and learned to delegate; but even so, she had often run out of time. Therefore, it had seemed normal to them – yes, even to him – to help her out, each of them according to their skills and abilities.

So, while Hvitserk almost always does the grocery shopping, while Sigurd vacuums and does the laundry, while Ubbe mows the lawn and trim the bushes, he, Ivar, runs her company's website and sometimes even does the accounting. And since he loves computers and numbers, it's not exactly a problem.

Anyway... So yes, he's not a slave in this house. Unlike Cinderella.

So, yes, to sum it up, he can't really complain and he's by far not Cinderella. And he knows it.

But... Yes, there's a but...

Sometimes, he feels trapped, as poor Cinderella must have felt.

Sometimes he feels like a spectator of a life he doesn't belong to.

Sure, he doesn't have to be homeschooled – but gods, he's glad he is. The reasons for him to be continuously bullied by classmates are endless. The simplest ones being: he is a cripple, an orphan, the son of a dead mob boss, the smartest one in the whole damn school, let alone his class. Take your pick. It's no fun, no fun at all. Being home alone is preferable to that alternative.

Therefore, barely leaving the house except for medical appointments, he has no friends. He doesn't do sports either – obviously – and yeah, he lives a lonely life, filled with video games and Netflix series. And he's okay with that. Well, most of the time.

Sure, his brothers, or at least Ubbe and Hvitserk, always try to include him as much as possible. But the truth is that because of his legs, there are many, many things he just can't do.

And the other truth, the less pleasant one, is that he partially did that to himself. He cut himself off from a world that hurt him, yet he still misses this world sometimes. At times, he blames himself. Because his life, honestly, is hardly what you would call a life, is it? Not when you're sixteen.

That's why sometimes, like now, he feels this longing, almost a need, to live. To really, truly, fully live. And that's why, for a brief moment, lulled by the light chitchat of his brothers, he considers attending Harald's midsummer party.

But he knows better. This life is not for him, never has been, never will be.

And so, shaking his head, he chases the thought away and, placing his hands on his push rims, he's about to leave the kitchen while the incessant babbling of his brothers goes on.

"I can't wait."

"Don't tell me! As every year, the most beautiful girls of Kattegat will be there."

"Remember that burger food truck? Best burgers ever!"

"I've heard Y/N would be attending this year."

"There'll be booze and girls! Sounds like Valh–"

Wait. His mind goes blank.

Fuck.

What? Did he hear right?

As he replays his brother's words in his head, it's like there's an earthquake happening inside of him.

Fuck.

He stops breathing. Blinks, then clamps his eyes shut.

Fuck.

When he finally manages to draw air into his lungs, he swallows loudly before asking in a weird, high-pitched voice, his heart pounding in his chest, "What– What did you say, brother?"

Hvitserk turns his head toward him and shrugs. "I just said there'll be boo–"

"No, not you!" Ivar snaps at his brother, pointing his pointer finger at Ubbe. "You, what did you fucking say?" Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Lagertha frowning – 'no curse words in this house, boys'– and even if he barely contains an eye roll, he still mouths a quick 'sorry' at her before rewording his question, impatience coursing through him. "What did you say, dear brother? Who did you say would attend?"

Stunned, Ubbe looks at him with wide eyes. "Y/N? I said Y/N would come. That's what I heard anyway. She's Harald's niece. She was here once, right? Remember her, baby bro, huh?"

But Ivar is no longer listening, the blood draining from his face. Y/N... Y/N... Fuck. Finally. Fucking finally. After so long... He may see you again. Wow.

I'll go! I'll fucking go!

He barely contains the words, suddenly acutely aware of the deafening silence in the room, his brothers shamelessly staring at him.

With her brows furrowed and her lips turned downward in a slight frown, Lagertha takes two steps forwards before crouching down in front of him. "Are you all right, sweetie? You're a little pale."

He barely hears when Sigurd giggles, "A little pale? He's greener than an alien!"

Lagertha shoots Sigurd a dirty look and then gently cups Ivar's cheek. "Do you know her, Ivar? Do you know Y/N?"

Overwhelmed, self-conscious, freaked out, caught off-guard, he doesn't know how to respond. Should he tell the truth? Should he lie? His brothers will mock him, for sure. What is the point of telling the truth? What good would it do? On the other hand, he could really use some advice. Yeah. Sure. Advice from Sigurd. Just the thought of it is enough to make him sick. Fuck, what is he going to do?

Rushed words are out of his mouth before he can even gather his thoughts. "No. No. I don't. I mean, yes, I think I do but–" He's being pathetic and he hates it. So after a sharp intake of breath, he shakes his head and eventually replies in a flat, calm voice, the white lie rolling off his tongue. "I know her, but I thought Ubbe was talking about someone else. Sorry."

With these words, he hastily leaves the room, his eyes riveted on his knees, his heart still drumming in his chest.

Y/N. Fuck.

🛡⚔️🛡

Ivar's taglist: @waiting4inspiration @honestsycrets @lisinfleur @saldelys @gearhead66 @inforapound @readsalot73 @milkkygirls @xbellaxcarolinax @shannygoatgruff @zuxiezendler @hecohansen31 @lonewolf471 @fuckindiva @tgrrose @didiintheblog @peachyboneless @pieces-by-me @funmadnessandbadassvikings @ethereallysimple @destynelseclipsa @cocovikings23 @xceafh @mrsalwayswrite @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @pomegranates-and-blood @jadelynlace @grimeundglow @quantumlocked310 @alexhandersen-marcoilsoe-fandom

Ivarello's taglist: @not-another-viking-fanfic-blog @hashimily @prepare4trouble @supernaturalvikingwhore @funmadnessandbadassvikings

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Hi Steph! I just have one question so it's technically an ask...I'm feeling a bit down lately since I feel like being in an old fandom is both a blessing and a curse.

you have a LOT of material to work through but there's always a chance that the ones you loved reading so much has already been finished for years now, and the author either abandoned them, their works (finished and not) and their accounts, left the fandom and moved or both. And it just makes me depressed.

I know that everything everything changes no matter what and everything has an end but it just really hurts sometimes that I've been attached to these fictional characters, it's silly I know, and seeing works done about them almost a decade ago now that it just makes me question that is it even worth it to continue reading knowing what happens?

Sorry for dumping this onto you but I just want to ease some of the pain. Sorry for being emotional.

I hope you're doing well<3

Hey Nonny *HUGS*

Ugh, I totally get you and how you feel. It's common to "feel exhausted" by being in a fandom as large as ours, mostly because it's just hard to find new things.

PERSONALLY, I don't think you should give up on it. Remember the fandom classic fics for what they are; I truly enjoy going back and re-reading fics I've read a hundred times!! It's like coming home and an old, dear friend is there to keep you happy for the next while. I actually re-read fics a LOT, as palate cleansers between new fics I haven't read! I like knowing what will happen but still feeling excited anyway. It's so joyous. AND if that's not your cup of tea – rereading old fics – there are new things coming in EVERY day, it's ridiculous, in a good way! I love watching new fans discovering Sherlock for the first time, or new authors having their hand in the fandom too! It's exciting and never boring. Probably why I'm still here, because I love being someone who helps curate all that new good stuff. It's like getting first dibs on the sampler plates, LOL.

I'm so sorry that fandom seems to not be for you anymore... it is a heartbreaking scenario that happens.... I remember when I slowly lost interest in the Sonic stuff.... it progressed past SatAM (which was my era) and the Archie Comics got WEIRD and I didn't play anything past the Saturn era of games at the time, and sadly I left before I could finish my own fanfic series (this was BEFORE FFNet and Ao3, so the only way you could promote your stuff was on your own Sonic sites and message boards). I had 4 stories left planned out. Maybe one day I'll dust them off, rewrite them, and just finish the series. I often wonder how many people wonder about if I'm okay, and if I will ever finish the series.

ANYWAY, the point I was trying to make before I went all nostalgic was that it is sad, but sometimes maybe leaving and coming back might be the answer for you.

Whatever you choose, lovely, remember the fandom for the happy feelings it brought up in you, and perhaps having a perception switch from "I'm sad that these fics are old" to "OMG these classic fics are like a museum, and I love these things" might help :)

Big hugs, Nonny. We love ya, no matter what you choose to do :)