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let’s all come to a general consensus that we acknowledge that not all readers are white. so when you’re writing degradation kinks, let’s be mindful of the words we use. cause as a black reader as soon as i see something out of pocket i’m not reading it anymore. it could be the best literary work known to man and i would not read it, because you lack the property of social awareness. poc and black people exist in these spaces, do not act as if your kind is the only kind to read fanfic. thank you!

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Me posting on tumblr:

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give yourself the gift of reading your own fic. it was literally written just for you.

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Angst fics can help people come to terms with their own grief, begin healing, or give people that good cry that they need.

Smut fics can help people affirm and accept their sexuality. It can help them explore their sexuality in a safe way. They can also just be fun, and having fun is a drastically undervalued way to improve your mental health.

Dark fics can help people face their fears or process their trauma. It can make them feel safer and more secure. It can help them find their courage.

Fluff fics can give people rest and respite and comfort. It can give them hope that soft places exist and that maybe there is one out there for them. It can bring up their mood, which, if they have depression, can be a life saver.

And every fic people write makes someone feel less alone.

Point being, just because a particular thing doesn’t serve you, doesn’t mean it lacks value.

This is not to say that we have to consume all fic uncritically. Of course not. It is just to say that entire “genres” aren’t trash or lacking value just because they don’t serve you.

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❝Ghosts❞

ハイキュー!! - Haikyuu!!

∭A.T. X Reader ∭Reader: Gender-Neutral ∭Characters: ⇲Aone Takanobu ∭Word Count: 0.2k ∭Warnings: ⇲None ∭Prompt: ⇲Haunted Houses ∭Notes: ⇲This is super cute-

Aone hates ghostsー

He swore that one had accidentally been summoned after the horror movie you both watched. He swore that the house was never this quiet. Never this empty, this dark. Like all the warmth and light had left when you did. Leaving to visit your family, promising to return in a few days.

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PLEASE REPORT MY STOLEN WORK

There’s a writer on Wattpad by the name “Heaven2560” that reposted my work in their book “aot one shots”. They literally just titled it “Levi x Black Reader” Reporting it would help a lot. It’s already hard enough working on something purely for black girls and being terrified of the backlash just to have someone steal your work

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❝Im done with you.❞‌ ‌

⌽Touya Todoroki, Toga Himiko, Sako Atsuhiro, Jin Bubaigawara, Kurogiri, & Shimura Tenko X‌ ‌Reader‌ ‌

 ⌽Characters‌ ‌ ➷Touya Todoroki (Dabi) ➷Toga Himiko ➷Kurogiri ➷Jin Bubaigawara (Twice) ➷Sako Atsuhiro (Mr. Compress) ➷Shimura Tenko(Shigaraki Tomura) ⌽Warnings‌ ‌ ➷Angst ⌽Prompt/Summary:‌ ‌They leave you. ⌽Notes‌  ➷I love them so much, and i was trying something different.

⌽Tomura didn’t know what he was doing. He couldn’t have known, right? He didn’t mean to touch you, he didn’t mean to harm you, he swears, but you weren’t his objective. A distraction that he enjoyed far too much than he should’ve. Far too much then he’d liked to admit, so when the words ‘I’m done with you.’ and watching you remain as prideful as you could, as he watched you leave,

⌽He’d regretted, few things in his life did he regret, but watching you pack you disappear into the darkness of the night. Not uttering a single word, it broke him. Dabi was in love with you and couldn’t fall out of it so easily, he wanted to believe you wouldn’t walk out so easily, that you glance back,

⌽But you never did. Never spared a glance, not let out a cry, never hesitated in your steps. Toga fell to her knees, she wanted you back, but would you even take her back. Would you hold her and whisper it was alright, that you understood that she didn’t mean it,

⌽You couldn’t. You wouldn’t. You respected his wishes as much as he respected yours, but this once. Mr. Compress twirled the F/C orb in his fingers, frowning in regret. You weren’t someone he could pocket in his orbs, you weren’t his enemy either. Despite every word, every sound effect, every fight. Not once did you ever utter the words “I hate you”, and that was truly the saddest thing.

⌽But at least you’d be happy! Right? Right? Or would you come to hate him? You couldn’t cause he loves you and you love him so you’ll turn around any minute. Twice counted, he waited and waited and waited. You weren’t coming back,

⌽That was clear. The way you left, the sadness in your eyes, your silence. Kurogiri wiped down the last glass and placed it down. You’re not a villain, yet he couldn’t help but look at the door, waiting for it to open and for you to walk through. At the end of the day,

⌽“You’re a hero.”

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This is what I get tryna support my mutuals.....

“But if you forget to reblog Madame Zeroni, you and your family will be cursed for always and eternity.”

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DON’T FORGET 3.OCT.11

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❝No Basic Understanding❞

鬼滅の刃 - Demon Slayer

∭G.T X Reader ∭Reader: Gender-Neutral ∭Characters: ⇲Giyuu T. ∭Word Count: 0.4k ∭Warnings: ⇲None ∭Prompt: ⇲Them playing with sidewalk chalk like they’re kids again. ∭Notes: ⇲Modern AU

He doesn’t understand—

Watching you clear out a spot in the driveway, a large box of chalk in his arms as he watched you. His eyes glanced at the neighbor, watching the neighbors kids play outside, while their parents sat on the lawn. Easily able to see two young adults drawing on the concrete ground.

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mutuals whenever i like your posts please remember that i am twirling my hair and giggling and saying “ohmigod really?? thats soooo cool”

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Your hands do so much for me...

Green eyes focused solely on my face, his hands cupping my face. My heart beating in my chest as I smiled. Watching his lips curl upwards, his nose slowly rubbing against mine. Silently promising that I'd be alright. That he'd be here for me.

You do so much for me...

Holding his hands, pressing my lips against his knuckles. A soft gasp leaving his lips. "Y/N..." His voice above a whisper as he stared at me with wide eyes. With with such love and adoration, pulling my lips away, my eyes locking onto Midoriya's.

I love you...

Feather light kisses grazed my face, a giggle leaving his lips as I wiggled in his arms, trying to get away. The cold silver band, located on his ring finger brushing against my skin.

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Me and my mutuals

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good things will happen 🧿

things that are meant to be will fall into place 🧿

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POV: you’re the hot waiter, and they’d pay you to brush their shoulder again

a/n: my sister hates this idea so this one’s for you sis! tw implied harassment/assult but not more than a sentence in xiao’s. sexual-ish themes for childe and kaeya

CHILDE: keeps asking for water as an excuse to see you. It’s maybe his fifth glass when he catches you glancing, and he’s so confident that long restroom lines don’t matter when your long peeps at bobbing adam’s apple. So what if he paid Teucer to finish his water quicker, and so what if he told the other waiter that VIP guests only deserve the best water from your pitcher? Let Childe think that tap water’s different when you’re tapping his buttons on if he really does need a 10th glass of water for a table of two, but Childe would really prefer it if you were removing his shirt’s buttons. Because maybe he wants to drink in the way you smile, the way you laugh at Teucer’s latest story about sand crabs on beaches, and ask if you’d like hugs behind kitchen sinks or being swept up in his arms when brooms have never been the shape of you. And sure, his snapback might be backwards, but Childe’s always been the type to bend backwards if it means to catch sight of your heated cheeks (or smile) again.

KAEYA: purposely spills water on himself so his white shirt can cling onto his figure. How was he supposed to remember that water was on his end of the table? How did he conveniently let your figure against the table’s frame and let gravity be a truth? Yes, gravity is cruel when water outlines well-worked for muscles and puffed chests. Ah, yes, gravity is an ugly mistress when you drop apologies and soak paper towels in an attempt to make water disappear. But, Kaeya thinks, making his shirt disappear is so much easier. And don’t let your hands disappear when he does need them to punch in his number on your phone for your offer on dry cleaning that dress shirt of his. And, yeah, this restaurant may not have doggy bags, but he’d like to take you out Sunday night if you’re free. (Because, maybe it does boost a bit of his ego when Kaeya catches you staring, or how his biceps can prove to catch more than hesitant glances. Maybe he won’t regret letting Albedo groan and forcing him to stay in the bathroom when Kaeya could be your main course today.)

ALBEDO: Klee says you should kiss him to make it better when he’s burned his hand against the KBBQ grill, and Albedo might just now need to work on his autobiography on the top 10 things that caused his fall from grace. Sure, Albedo might have been praying you didn’t notice him lowering his voice a few octaves down. And sure, Albedo might think you’re pretty enough to be given half of his paycheck when he’s ordered two different meals past the family budget. But Albedo might have not entirely believed that Klee would’ve caught on even if it had been their third night here this week. Kaeya’s trying to not laugh, Albedo’s trying to not let blush consume his neck and cheeks, but you smile (enough to make Albedo wish he brought a heart monitor). And you let out a giggle, offer him a glance and brighten up the room when he’s not being so bright with his words right now. You don’t let food go to waste and provide him the additional service of tasting his lips if interested.

VENTI: is the center of the world, or maybe just the center of your world even if it’s only for a few seconds. Let the lines of Rex Orange County escape his lips because you’re not the one to press them closed. Picks up the mic when your manager is yelling at you for a band’s missed booking, and twirls the wires with the hope that there’s some autotune because you’re watching with bright eyes now. And, even when there’s possibly puke in your hair or half-chewed spaghetti on your shoes, he thinks you’re really pretty. You smell like sweat, tears and minimum wage, but all Venti can really think about is the way you smile like he’s single-handedly saved your ass from angry bosses today. Because you might slow dance in the arms of checks and tips, but Venti wonders if you’d look nice in the sleeves of his overpriced jean jacket that’s got him convinced on why you keep staring (or at least the reason why he’s so clammy).

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