#(yes i tagged the other one with that as well so might as well do this)

[amorchai]

Hi! I know you're looking for Finnick Odair ideas maybe you could do one Finnick and reader reuniting in D13? Maybe reader was taken by the Capitol or they just haven't seen eachother

𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐂𝐀𝐏𝐈𝐓𝐎𝐋 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐑𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐍𝐈𝐂𝐊.

pairing(s): finnick odair x reader

words: 645

warnings/tags: violence mentions, katniss + peeta in a bad state, bit of angst but finnick being soft, established relationship, overall r having a hard time and finnick being the best bf ever.

it was all a blur to finnick. trying to pull you away from the tree as the lightning struck the cord-covered arrow and collapsed the dome. but it was hard to see at first, passing out on the floor before he could attempt to see if you’re okay.

next thing he knew, he woke up to find out not only peeta and johanna were taken by capitol – but you were too. it sent him into a state, begging plutarch to do something about it. to get you back.

for a long six weeks finnick and katnissed watched peeta on screen, getting progressively more worried as he grew thinner and more emotionless. and while he comforted katniss, finnick worried about the state you would be in.

when he wasn’t at meetings or aiding to katniss, he was crying in his small room in district thirteen, pleading to empty room for your safe return, and the same for his friends.

he would never sleep, unless the lack of hours caught up and he unwillingly passed out. and this time he woke to a startle, haymitch barging into his room, “they’re back, they’re all back.”

firstly, he visited katniss, haymitch letting him know of the return of a brainwashed peeta who attacked her. fear grew in the pit of his stomach as he watched, doctors surrounding her sleeping body as her neck looked badly bruised and breathing wheezy and tired.

“apparently, they only hijacked peeta. johanna and y/n have returned pretty traumatised themselves but with clearer heads.”

finnick desperately kept up with haymitch’s steps as he described the situation, “what about peeta? can i see peeta?”

with a sigh, haymitch answers, “i don’t think anyone should see the state he is in right now, maybe in a few days.” they approach a door, finnick mimicking haymitch as he comes to a halt.

“y/n might be asleep, but i believed you would still want to pay a visit,” haymitch pats his shoulder, finnick thanked him as he anxiously opened the door.

the room was dull, bright white lights making it more like an asylum and grey walls and matching floors. but his eyes immediately find you and fill with light. you weren’t asleep, you were awake.

you were sat up, the doctor just finished taking your blood pressure and had packed away while johanna slept at the other side of the room, finnick’s heart sank seeing her shaved head.

“finnick?” you say and he tries to not break down, wanting to stay strong for you. “yes, it’s me, honey.” haymitch stands by the door to allow finnick space as he approaches your bed carefully, too scared to hurt you or overwhelm you in this moment.

“i missed you so much,” you say, tears welling up and finnick finds his own vision blurring with tears as he sits in the chair beside your bed and holds your hand, “i missed you more, bug.”

you laugh softly through the sniffles, his affectionate pet name making you feel slightly more at ease while his thumb gently wipes your tears. yet he ignores the own ones falling down his face.

“are you alright? i’m so sorry i couldn’t save you,” finnick feels that he’s failed, a terrible boyfriend for passing out instead of ensuring your safety but you only shake your head. “none of this is your fault, finnick. i’m just glad we’re back.”

finnick stands up, leaning over to press a long kiss to your forehead, his hand moving to hold the back of your head carefully like your precious porcelain, his lips warm against your cool skin.

“you’re okay now, yeah? you’re not going back, not on my watch, okay?” he says in a murmur against your skin and you reach up to run your fingers across his arm gently, “i’m here now, finn.”

and god was he glad you were.

amorchai masterlist . taglist form

amorchai © ─ all rights reserved. no reposting/translating/copying will be tolerated.

[lemon-russ]

Uhm so my understanding with that 'Burned out on Cato × Diplomat' post is that requests are open? May I request some post-nails Angron x Reader? Doesn't have to be smut, but I'd welcome it!

yes!! It isn't super long and no smut, but I liked this so much I might do more of it, I'm actually a big fan of 30k Angron :)

Eta: I keep forgetting tags woops: @undeaddream @scriberye @sleepyfan-blog

And thank you for divider as always @squishyowl

Angron x Gn!Reader

Word count: ~800

CW: It's Angron. There's blood.

Blood dripped down the walls, splattered across from the spray from the neck of the unfortunate serf that happened to have passed by The Red Angel at the wrong moment. He gnashed his teeth, grinding and cracking them before they healed themselves immediately anyways. The pain of the nails cracked through his skull again, but dulled slightly now that he'd turned a serf into paste in the halls of the Conqueror.

He whirled 180° at the sound of soft footsteps tapping against the metal plates, nostrils flaring and hand raising to use whoever dared approach the Lord of the Red Sands.

But upon seeing your soft, patient expression looking up at him with gentle eyes, he faltered. The only thing that seemed to even slightly interrupt the pain if his nails besides bloodshed and slaughter, was you. You and that gentle, unfaltering look you always gave him.

He lowered his arm, grinding his teeth again against the pain, and you gave him a small smile before approaching. You could read him well enough to know when it was safer to approach and when he needed space.

“Angron.” You say in that soothing tone. You never called him “my lord” or “primarch” or any of those ridiculous titles. He tried not to flinch, his muscles tensing in control as you stepped to his side. You pull out a cloth from your robes and pat at the blood splattering his arms with a featherlight touch, knowing too much contact would irritate his nails.

“You.” He gruffs. That's all he ever called you. Just, you. Never anything so pompous or fake as a pet name. And he honestly would forget your name in the middle of a wrack of pain or a blood fury. So it more often than not was simply, “You.”

“You are wandering alone again.” He growled, fists straining as he attempted to control his anger at your lack of self preservation. “You forget where you are.”

Like always, you didn't react in anyway but with gentle, unwavering patience. “I heard screaming. I wanted to check on you. Would you like to walk with me?” You say with that soft tone that seemed to balm his psyche.

He simply grunts, the nails lashing against the numbing of his mind with another shock of pain. But you made it easier. More bearable. He lets you take his hand in both of yours, and mindlessly follows you as you lead him away from the pile of gore he made of the serf.

He blinks away some pained brain fog. “You… know better than… to walk alone around the ship.” He forced through grit teeth.

You make a gentle hum. “I wasn't very far from you.” You return simply.

He groaned, annoyance tinging the pain in his mind. “If one of my sons got a hold of you…” he growled, teeth creaking in his head as he ground them.

You softly pat his hand. “I know, but they did not. Shall we loop around?” You say, tugging his hand gently toward a new corridor. “Or shall we bathe for the night and head to bed?”

He shuddered, pain mingling with the other feelings you always stir. “Bed. Now.” He grunts, hand tightening around your tiny ones.

You giggle, the sound only rousing his blood more. “Not while you're covered in blood. Bath time it is. I got some nice herbs for soaking when we were on that last planet…” you say, and your babbling about scented leaves turns into a soft background noise as he watches your face while you talk. Soft. Gentle. Patient. Voice hypnotizingly calming, or as much as is possible for him. His.

He growled a soft noise, gripping your tiny hand with as much gentleness as he could muster. With you, blood was not the only thing that could sate his pain and rage. At least for a moment. With you, there were other things that helped.

You looked up at him curiously, and his mind dredged back to the moment. “What?” He grunted.

You giggled and blushed. “I asked, so you think it might be fun to combine a bath and our other activites?”

He processed slowly, mind trudging through the ever constant pain, but then he let out a deep, needy growl from his chest. “Yes.” He snarled. He scooped you up into his arm, no longer patient enough to wait for your tiny legs. You squeak and giggle, far too comfortable in the arms of 11 feet of muscle and rage.

He looks down at you as he hurried toward the quarters he had made for you. You. His.

Yes, there were other things that could soothe his nails, for a moment. And he thinks he might be able to rut himself into a somewhat restful sleep tonight.

[sunlightandsuffering]

‘I lost my asshole friends in the club and you’re hot, help me’

Mikasa has in many occasions in her life as a young adult helped drunken partygoers get home. Friends, family members, acquaintances, strangers, you name it, she even once helped a lost dog get home on a particularly drunken Friday night. 

However, in her limited experience, she does not often help boys get home. 

They are a strange species, too macho to ask for help, and often knowing how to make their own way home, whether it be walking, or drunnkenly stumbling onto the bus. She rarely has to deal with the men in her life losing their faculties so completely that she has to get them home. No, when Mikasa plays mom in the club to her rag tag friend group, it is most often her girl friends who are the problem, namely Sasha. 

Tonight though, Sasha is remarkably well-behaved, sticking close to Connie instead and sharing his drinks instead of throwing back so many of her own. 

Mikasa had thought that maybe tonight would be a break, that she wouldn't be worrying about getting anyone else home.

So colour her surprised, when at 1:30 am, when all her friends are leaving, her the last out of the club, she bumps into the ultimate hot mess himself: Eren Yeager. Eren is hot, attractive in the kind of way most girls dream about, the big bad boy that’s going to sweep you off your feet, drop your panties and fuck you in the back alley before taking you home to cuddle in his bed, which probably doesn’t have a head board but does have a navy blue bedspread. She knows of Eren, has never met him personally, only seen him from afar in Armin’s pictures and too many drunken stories. Yet somehow, at the end of her night, he quite literally falls into her, and despite her own tall stature, it’s a miracle he doesn’t take them both to the floor. Only by the grace of god, her knee-high combat boots and the wall does she stop them from toppling to the floor. Eren on the other hand, deep dives right into the comfortable pillows of her cleavage, and as she catches her balance, one arm bracing them against the wall and the other, clutching his shoulders for support, Eren seems only too happy to be face-first in her tits. She colours bright pink at the thought, because it’s not just anyone diving for her breasts, it’s Eren fucking Yeager. 

“Hey,” she hisses, smacking him as she tries to tear them apart, “Those are my boobs jackass.” “And may I just say,” Eren mumbles, finally pulling himself from her chest, eyes glazed over with the effects of alcohol, “They are really fucking amazing, like seriously, you have great tits.” Mikasa genuinely doesn’t know what to say, because on one hand, wow, what a compliment and from Armin’s best friend the manwhore, it’s definitely high praise. But on the other hand, what the fuck? She settles for a glare and this seems to spark Eren’s brain into action, “Oh my god Mikasa! It’s you, Armin’s friend. Holy shit you’re prettier in person.” Mikasa bites down on her lip to contain her smile because shit, he knows who she is. “Yes, that would be me, what can I do for you Eren?” Eren beams at her, and why is his smile pretty, crooked in a way that’s too enticing, and the green of his eyes it’s fucking emerald sparkling, just like her mother’s wedding ring. 

The audacity of him to be so pretty in the middle of the night in the club when everyone else looks like trash and smells even worse, it’s just unfair really. 

“I umm, I saw you and I don’t know if you can tell but I’m a little more drunk than I’d like to be right now, and I took an edible about an hour ago and it’s realllllly starting to hit,” He tells her candidly, and as he says it she notices just how red his eyes are, and just how fucking out of it he looks, much perkier than she’d ever expect him to be. “But I saw you and I know who you are because Armin never shuts the fuck up about you and honestly, you’re stunning I would have definitely hit on you anyway, but I thought maybe you might be able to get me home.” He’s rambling now, but he very abruptly shuts up again as his eyes slide to her tits and Mikasa fights back a smile because wow she really is getting unfiltered Eren right now. 

“You want me to get you home?” Mikasa clarifies and Eren’s eyes dart up, a patented smirk overtaking his face as second nature kicks in, “To be honest I actually want to take you home, because I think together we would do truly great fucking things, but I think I’m too crossfaded to manage it.” 

Mikasa snorts as she calmly slips herself under his arm, her other wrapping around his waist to keep him steady, “You’re gonna hate yourself in the morning.” “Oh, I don’t doubt it, I’m killing my shot with Armin’s other best friend, and I’ve been waiting to make a move for a long ass time.” 

Mikasa barks out a laugh as she manoeuvres him out the door and past the bouncers who are watching them like hawks. They look suspicious of Eren and one even asks if she’s okay and Mikasa has to chuckle, she’s the one supporting him, she has no doubt he’s going to pass out as soon as his head hits the pillow. “I’m good,” She tells them wryly, before swinging Eren towards the intersection where most Ubers and cabs are picking people up. She sighs as she grabs for her phone, she’d really wanted to avoid fronting the uber bill tonight, but alas, that’s part of being the mom friend of the group. Eren smacks her hand away as soon as she opens the app. “Do it on my phone, it’s in my back pocket, you can put your address in to if you want, but you also don't have to, you could crash at my place."

She looks up at him, eyebrow quirked up, “Is that your really shitty way of telling my I can stay over.” He looks down at her affectionately, eyes sparkling with mirth and far too many substances, “If you want.” 

“I’ll think about it.” She doesn’t think about it, it’s not even a question. She only inputs one address into his phone, and it’s the one he tells her to. 

If he’s going to wake up tomorrow regretting shooting his shot with her, he’s going to do it with her in his bed so he can do it properly the second time around. They wait on the side of the street and Eren keep shooting her little glances, and tugging her closer under his arm, any excuse to touch and Mikasa can’t help but grin when he becomes fascinated with the curve of her waist. “You know, your skin is really soft, like so soft, you would make a great pillow.” 

“Thanks,” She responds wryly, and he nestles her in closer, his fingers lacing with her own where his arm is draped over her shoulder, “Especially your tits, really great pillow I know from personal experience.” “How are you so smooth right now? Genuinely I want to know,” Mikasa comments, looking up at him curiously. She has no doubt he really is high out of his mind, and too cross-faded to function, but seriously, how the fuck is he so suave right now? “I don’t know,” Eren tells her honestly, “I just think you have really great tits and I would personally love the opportunity to sleep on them later.” Mikasa giggles, full genuine laughter, “That’s all you want to do? Sleep on them?” “Of course, I would keep it perfectly appropriate, but preferably, your shirt would be off.” 

“You’re ridiculous.” “I’m not, I just get really chatty when I’m high, and you’re really pretty and I seriously cannot stop thinking about your rack, I’m sorry.”

“You’re not sorry at all,” Mikasa teases him, helping him carefully towards the curb as their Uber pulls up.

Eren volleys right back, never missing a beat, “I’m not, not as long as you end up in my bed tonight without a shirt, as long as it gets me that I’m not sorry at all.” 

Getting Eren into the Uber is easier than she thought it would be, although he does seem quite reluctant to relinquish his hold on her waist, and seems very put out when they end up on opposite sides of the car, not even their thighs touching. She can’t suppress her smile when his eyes keep slipping to her cleavage, every few minutes like clockwork, he’ll look away, as if chastising himself. Then on cue, seconds later, his gaze is right back, eyes focused entirely on her breasts. Mikasa can’t say she’s too upset about it. 

When they arrive at his place Eren takes the lead, eager to get home now that he knows his surroundings. The car door is barely closed before he’s dragging her towards the apartment lobby. “Eren I was gonna get my own Uber–” “No you’re not, you’re sleeping in my bed, without a shirt,” He shoots her a downright mischievous glance as he clicks the button for the elevator, “Nothing is going to happen because I’m a gentleman, but Mikasa I will be using you as a pillow tonight, and you will like it.” He seems to think better of his sentence as the elevator doors open, looking back at her a little guiltily as he drags her inside, “That is unless you’re uncomfortable with it for any reason, in which case I will take the couch and I will be sad, but I will use a throw cushion.” 

Mikasa laughs again, because god is he fucking funny when he’s high, no traces of the serious playboy Armin always talks about, “You’re surprisingly eloquent you know.” “I’m always eloquent,” The words slip right off his tongue, “My mother was an English major and I don’t dick around when it comes to prose. Thus, my vocabulary is always fantastic.” 

Why is that hot, and why did he use ‘thus’ in a sentence? Who is this man? 

He grins at her, all teeth and it screams trouble. Yes, Mikasa is in trouble as they step out of the elevator and Eren leads her down the hall towards his apartment. Thankfully, he happens to have his keys on him because that would have been a true tragedy. The second they’re in his apartment, he kicks off his shoes, tugs off his shirt, and before she can say a word he’s speeding towards his bedroom. Eren doesn’t even bother to turn a light on, and Mikasa awkwardly follows him, toeing off her shoes and being careful to lock the door behind them. His apartment is very male, sparsely decorated and lit only by the light of the moon. There is a TV, a few plants and a comfortable looking sectional, but not much else. She slips down the hall awkwardly, wondering if she should linger or just let him knock himself out and pretend it never happened, tomorrow morning. But of course, that would mean losing her shot with Armin’s very hot other best friend who is clearly a little obsessed with her right back, and what fun would that be? 

Mikasa tiptoes towards the only open door in the hallway, what she can only assume is Eren’s bedroom. 

She finds him splayed out across the bed, his bedside table light on, and looking up at her expectantly. He’s somehow managed to change himself into a pair of sweats and nothing else, and yeah she was right, his sheets are navy blue. But nonetheless, his bed does look very comfy, the comforter exceptionally fluffy looking and probably nice and heavy, a great weight to sleep with on top of her. And to her immense surprise, he even has sheets, grey ones and they look fucking clean and isn’t that a turn on.

Eren beckons her from the corner of his large bed, crooking a finger towards her, and she goes willingly, stopping at the edge of the bed frame when he holds up his hand in a ‘stop’ motion. 

“Sorry, there’s a no shirt policy.” Mikasa stands in front of him, and without a second thought she strips her shirt off, mushes it up into a ball and then hurls it at Eren’s face with impressive accuracy. It lands with a satisfying thunk and Eren falls back to the mattress like he’s been mortally wounded. She takes off her pants too, choosing not to sleep in her jeans, before crawling into the bed. As Eren throws the shirt to the ground he has a pout on his face, and he looks decidedly unimpressed, “You’re still wearing a bra.”

Mikasa huffs, “You said nothing about a bra.” Now he’s being honest to god whiny, “Please?” 

Mikasa doesn’t really know why she relents. All she does know is that when he finally passes out, not five minutes later, it feels really fucking good to have Eren Yeager’s cheek pressed right against her breasts, his soft breaths fanning her nipple with every exhale. She’s more turned on than she’s ever been in her life, and she has no fucking idea how she’s going to fall asleep, especially not when his erection is so clearly pressed against her ass. 

She’s so fucked. But in the morning, when she wakes up to a much more sober Eren raining kisses over her chest, and those downright devious green eyes, she thinks she’s made the right choice. 

[sleepinglionhearts]

Kana may, in fact, be named Kana because it is a simple name but also I know where I started, I'm borrowing that name with great respect u___u

[quarks-pussy]

[Images description: Twelve pictures of Star Trek actors. The phrase "thank you for being both amazing actors and amazing people" is written across most of the images one word at a time, except for the two images in the middle. The middle images are of William Shatner, reading "not you!" and Robert Beltran, reading "or you for that matter". The actors in the other images are George Takei, René Auberjonois, DeForest Kelley, Gates McFadden, Wil Wheaton, Kate Mulgrew, Patrick Stewart, Siddig El Fadil (aka Alexander Siddig), Nichelle Nichols and Leonard Nimoy. End image description.]

Non exhaustive list of course. Many more such cases, in fact feel free to add

(insp)

[autisticlee]

sometimes people who struggle like to make jokes or find positives about their condition that causes them to struggle so they can escape the constant negative and struggle. sometimes autistic people will say things like "the 'tism" or use the "autism creature" or say their autism helped them have a *positive trait* to feel better about their struggles. because living your life only focusing on the struggles and negatives is depressing and makes it hard to want to live, even if those struggle take up 100% of your life and you can't actually escape them. sometimes any little seemingly positive thing can help a lot.

but there's so many other autistic people that hate when we do that and call it "reducing autism to a cute trendy thing" and say it takes away from *their* struggles and is bad and shouldn't be used. maybe *you* want to only focus on your struggles, but some people can't live in constant negative and need some positive or to find ways to make their condition more positive so they can feel better about living with their struggles. life is hard. I take anything I can get.

I cant get jobs. I can't make and keep friends. I can't get help and support for doing "normal" things so sometimes I go weeks without being able to shower and without eating more than a bowl of cereal a day. most times can't even do things I like. struggle to communicate. have meltdowns. i'll never be able to live independently. I struggle a lot. but instead of sitting here always depressed and having no motivation to live, i'd rather try to joke about "my 'tism is acting up again" when i'm struggling (just an example. don't think I ever actually used the 'tism thing but i saw others use it) or say "i'm just being a creature" when I need to stay in my dark room because everything is too much and I personally find it cute to be a little creature meant in a positive way. i'm not actually downplaying mine or anyone else's struggles. I still acknowledge them and that silly jokes dont make them go away. i'm not trying to be trendy. i'm not doing any of the things people say we do by making silly little jokes. i'm using the silly little jokes to convince myself life can be a little more than pointless, painful garbage all the time.

(continue in tags)

[ratatatastic]

or alternatively dweeb meets other dweeb more news at 11

LIGHT. LIGHT IN HIS EYES. LOOK AT EM BIG OLE EYES. LOOK AT HIM TOUCH HIS JERSEY.

GLORY BE TO THE MIKKSY SIGNED JERSEY RAAAAAAAAA

CanesWear Signing | 7.1.24

[nerdyfangirlingbooks]

Every now and then I remember the times I would mention to my flatmate that I was thinking of buying myself something reasonably expensive (that I had been eyeing up for months and had budgeted for) and she'd tell me that I shouldn't spend that much money on something I didn't need and it would be stupid etc etc while she regularly impulse bought things that cost at least as much and she would use once (while complaining that she was under a lot of financial stress and couldn't afford <$3/week for 2 months for a rental washing machine when ours broke). She is... perhaps not my first call for financial advice

[hauntingblue]

:)

[thequeervampiric]

“Stephie’s gonna lure him in with her charms.” Grace taking Steph’s hands and twirling her around like that. very straight behavior /s

[quicksilversquared]

In today’s Fun Work Adventures, an older lady in our parking lot accidentally backed her car into a metal sign (and also many many bags of soil, but that’s irrelevant), freaked out at the noise, and in her panic managed to accelerate forward into two other cars in the lot (and nearly pushed one far enough forward to go off the ledge into the next parking lot, a couple feet lower)

Another employee called 911, which managed to send their people to not the right spot (thank goodness there wasn’t anyone hurt or a fire, because that is an oops that should not have happened) until she called back and was like ??? where are you guys? And then the fire truck and ambulance that were sent (....for a relatively low-speed collision with no injuries?) missed us the first time around- we could hear them zipping by, then several minutes later coming by again. They would have missed it if an employee hadn’t flagged them down. The entire point of calling (after we figured out that the lady was fine) was to get a police report for the accident for insurance (not sure why the sirens were really needed?). The police never showed up. We had people coming up to the registers for over an hour afterwards going ‘wtf happened there?’ because the cars were just. like. Left there for ages while we tried to figure out stuff.

So. Uh. Here’s hoping that tomorrow will be a lot less exciting?

[anarchy-and-piglins]

different anon here, it's gotten to the point where I dont even bother going through the techno tag on ao3 anymore. I have to stick to the techno-centric tag otherwise it's all tommy, and even then sometimes the fics are /still/ centered on tommy. its exhausting

Yeah, character tags are a hopeless mess but so are character-centric tags because newsflash: this fandom doesn’t know how those work either. Hold onto your boots kids, I’m doing a second impromptu AO3 tag guide: character-centric edition. And after that I have some advice for you Anon, but I’m forcing you to read my rant first because I’m thriving.

Let’s start with the basic thing that everybody gets wrong:

Character-centric =/= pov character =/= all the main characters.

Character-centric = the one character the plot centers around.

Now, obviously a centric character and the pov character can often overlap. However, not always. A pov character is just the character whose head we’re in, so to speak. A centric character is the character the fic is about, the One Main Character. For example: if you write a fic that is from Techno’s pov but is all about him finding Tommy after exile and taking care of Tommy and such, then the chances are high that it’s just a Tommy-centric fic.

Which leads me into the second thing: not all fic need to have a character-centric tag. And if they do: one or two MAX will suffice.

You’ll notice that a lot of AO3 fic doesn’t have a character-centric tag. That’s because you should see ‘character-centric’ almost more like its own subgenre, it’s an additional tag used to filter content and say to people “hey, this fic is very much disproportionately focused on this character”. This character is the center of the universe in this fic, so to speak.

Your fic can have one centric character, you can maybe have two if you’re writing about a specific dynamic. (Be wary of examples such as the above post-exile fic though. A fic can certainly be Technoblade-centric and Tommy-centric if it gives them both equal weight of importance in the plot and focuses on them individually as well as together. Not if Techno is just being a Big Brother (tm) who does nothing but care for Tommy and feel guilty about not being better for Tommy the entire story.)

You should not have more than two character-centric tags. The exception is if your fic focuses on a pre-established group in the source material, those often have their own centric tags (SBI-centric, dteam-centric) though AGAIN: only use that one if your fic actually focuses on the different dynamics within this group and on the members as individuals that have a life and agency outside of the other members. Do not tag a Tommy angst fic where the other three SBI guys are only there to take care of him or interact with him as SBI-centric.

“But Shae,” you scream desperately, “what if I write a fic that DOES focus equally on three or more people who aren’t an established group with their own tag???”

That’s great. Just use a combination of character tags, relationship tags, other additional tags and your summary to make it clear who the fic is about. It’s that easy.

As I mentioned above, character-centric tags are used for filtering by people looking for content of their favs, where they’re the MAIN main character. Just like how you shouldn’t tag a character that only appears for a few scenes because people looking for that character’s content will be disappointed, somebody looking for character-centric content will be dissatisfied with a fic where that character is not present for large chunks at a time because you’re focusing on other people for a bit.

There’s nothing wrong with an ensemble cast fic, those are fun to write and read! They’re just not character-centric.

So that was my rant. Now Anon, my advice for you? Sort fic by additional tags + filter out other tags generously. How do you do that? It’s very simple:

Step 1) find a character specific tag for your blorbo. Preferably something you enjoy reading. For example, I frequent tags such as ‘Technoblade needs a hug’ or ‘Technoblade angst’ or ‘hurt Technoblade’.

Step 2) While sorting, exclude the ‘Tommyinnit-centric’ tag. As mentioned above, this fandom doesn’t use tags correctly so this is not a foolproof plan. But I guarantee it makes a HUGE difference. You can proceed to also filter out other tags you don’t like or those that are often used by Tommy-centric writers (’traumatized Tommyinnit’ for example). Theoretically, you can even sort out Tommy’s character tag. Tada!

Disclaimer: Be aware that this is a double-edged sword. The more tags you exclude, the higher the chances are you’re also accidentally excluding fics that would appeal to you and just happen to use Tommy tags. Some of my fics are tagged ‘traumatized Tommyinnit’ or ‘Tommyinnit needs a hug’. My recommendation is to see what your mood is like. Do you want to get a fic to read as fast as possible with minimal scrolling? Exclude away! But if you want to do a more thorough fic scavenger hunt, I usually feel like just excluding Tommyinnit-centric already makes a world of difference even if it doesn’t solve the problem completely.

[reblog-house]

So I watched Grian and Joel and Jimmy and Scar's videos. I have never drawn fanart of literally anything as quickly in my life. Here's just what I managed to do in the two hours it took me to watch the videos. Just a little WIP. Will continue it tomorrow. Possibly.

[starredforlife]

a message, hi, hello, to the predominantly white estadounidense community on tumblr: I hope it depresses you to be American. I hope you are realizing how much blood we have on our hands. Decades and generations of it. I don’t want it to make you hopeless and helpless and victimized I want it to make you ashamed and devastated and motivated to do something. Your tax money pays for weapons that kill children overseas and if you got a minimum wage job here you couldn’t afford to live between paychecks. What a shit fucking country. Are we supposed to accept this? Is this how you want to live in ten or twenty or thirty years from now? Do you want to continue to shoulder the responsibility of our great acts of “justice” and “mercy” and “intervention” on the countless souls who don’t even live in our borders? What can your own soul live with? Don’t we owe it to humanity to at least feel the gulf of guilt we’ve made for ourselves?

[ferronickel]

Drawin’ some Susies tonight

[gettothestabbing]

My sister keeps telling me that I should make more personal posts here and vent and be more open. Not a bad idea, on its face. But she also reads my Tumblr. She’s the only person I know IRL that reads it and knows it’s mine. So I could vent on here about pretty much everything . . . unless it pertains to her, in which case she will message me and tell me to change what I wrote about her. Even though NONE of you know who she is.