#starting to think i should put in the effort and actually WRITE this fic

[samgirlie-gn]

Dean shows up to Stanford unannounced and the little sister who left home a few years ago is now a not-so-little brother. Dean reacts badly. Of course he does. When Sam says "I was never your sister" Dean hears "I was never YOURS". Because if he got this fundamental thing wrong about Sam for all these years, it means he never really knew Sam the way he thought he did. As far as he's concerned he had Sammy memorized, every aspect of her personality noted down in his brain like a private religion, and Sam's telling him that all of that was wrong. He's losing Sam. He's losing the idea that he ever had Sam. It's all about ownership, his little sister belonging to him, and now he's having that essential part of his world challenged. Dean's response is denial - "this is a phase, she's just confused". Until eventually he has to reconcile the Samantha he knew with this Samuel who's come into his own as a man. He has to recognize that he did know Sam - because despite this missing piece being put into place, Sam is still Sam. And he has to realize that if he wants to have (or frankly, own) Sammy in the future he has to adjust. If he doesn't get his head out of his ass he'll lose him forever.

[seventh-district]

several days and 15 thousand words later, i am relieved to report that the suffocating urge to Write Something has been sated and no longer has me in a chokehold

[thesecondhandwoman]

im craving some fluff fic right now, and I think you're going to nail this one. how about a stubborn Sevika not letting the reader take care of her when she's sick? it's like she's hiding from the reader and acting tough or silly when she's clearly not okay.

𝑺𝑰𝑪𝑲 𝑶𝑭 𝒀𝑶𝑼

Sevika x f!reader

Synopsis: A cold has recently been going on around the Undercity, and when Sevika catches it, she as stubborn as ever to try and ignore her feverish state, ultimately leading to you dealing with a messy bundle of sass.

Request: Anon 🤍

A/N: Just a short yet silly fanfic of Sevika and a running fever (it was fun to write).

It started with a cough. Just a little thing, scratchy and low, like she’d swallowed the end of a cigar wrong. You wouldn’t have thought much of it if it weren’t for the way Sevika immediately shut up afterward, like she was waiting to see if you noticed.

You did.

The problem was that she noticed you noticing, despite her hope that you’d think she had only fallen quiet over the noise of the bar.

“Doll,” she warned, lifting a hand as if that would stop you from speaking. “Don’t.”

“Sevika—”

“I’m fine.”

Ah, here we go.

The woman had been acting off all day. She wasn’t touching her drink (which, in itself, was a glaring red flag), her usual sharp scowl had dulled into something more sluggish, and worst of all, she was being too quiet. Sevika was never loud, but she always had something to say, even if it was just some grumbled remark about how stupid someone was being. But now? She just sat there, arms crossed, looking miserable but too damn proud to admit it.

You folded your arms. “You’re sick.”

“No, I’m not.”

“You’re literally sweating.”

“It’s hot in here.”

“It’s the middle of winter.”

She huffed, shifting in her seat at the bar. “Then someone should fix the damn heat.”

“Sevika.” You reached out, brushing the back of your hand against her forehead before she could swat you away. Her skin was burning. You gave her a pointed look, but she just glared right back, as if sheer willpower would convince you that she wasn’t, in fact, dying of fever.

She turned away. “I’m fine.”

“Yeah? Prove it. Stand up.”

Sevika scoffed and pushed herself up from the barstool, only for her legs to buckle beneath her immediately. If you hadn’t caught her, she would’ve face-planted right onto the grimy floor of The Last Drop.

“Uh-huh. Fine, my ass.” You tightened your grip on her waist, helping her stay upright while she grumbled against your shoulder. “C’mon, big mama. We’re going home.”

Sevika groaned, but she didn’t have the strength to argue, not when standing up alone had already proven to be too much effort.

She was sick. Really sick.

And you were about to have the worst time convincing her to let you take care of her.

The next challenge was actually getting her home.

Sevika, even half-dead with fever, was as stubborn as a damn mule. She refused to let you carry her, claiming she could walk just fine on her own. That was a bold-faced lie, of course. She nearly tripped over her own feet twice before you started guiding her yourself, one arm around her waist as you led her down Zaun’s damp alleyways toward her apartment.

She didn’t make it easy.

“You—you’re making a big deal out of nothing,” she slurred, leaning heavier against you with every step.

“Yeah? You just tried to pick a fight with a mailbox.”

“It was looking at me funny.”

“Sure it was.”

She made an irritated sound in the back of her throat but didn’t argue further. Probably because she knew she’d lose.

By the time you finally got her inside and onto her bed, she was half-asleep, mumbling under her breath about how you were “too bossy for your own good.”

“And you’re too stubborn for your own good,” you shot back, rolling your eyes as you pried her boots off. “Now stay put while I get you some medicine.”

Sevika didn’t respond. You thought she had actually, finally, fallen asleep—until you came back with a glass of water and found the bed empty.

Your eye twitched.

“Sevika.”

No answer.

You checked the bathroom. Nothing.

The kitchen? No sign of her.

It was only when you turned toward the closet that you noticed the faintest shuffle of movement in the shadows, realizing this large woman of a girlfriend was hiding in a closet that could barely fit half her size, especially with her clothing.

You sighed. “Are you seriously hiding from me right now?”

“No.”

A blatant lie.

“You are sick,” you said, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Get back in bed.”

“I don’t need to be in bed.”

“You almost passed out earlier!”

She grumbled something incoherent, but when you stomped over and yanked the closet door open, she just squinted up at you, her tall frame awkwardly hunched in the cramped space.

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

She blinked. “Hey, doll.”

“Bed. Now.”

She groaned but didn’t resist when you pulled her to her feet and shoved her back toward the mattress. She collapsed onto it with a sigh, one arm thrown dramatically over her eyes.

“You are so difficult,” you muttered, draping a blanket over her.

Sevika just huffed, her breathing heavy. You could tell she was exhausted, no matter how much she tried to act otherwise.

“You wanna keep pretending you’re fine,” you said, voice softer now, “or do you wanna let me take care of you?”

She hesitated.

Her pride was probably waging a violent war against the undeniable fact that she felt like shit. But after a long moment, she shifted, peeking at you from under her arm.

“Just this once,” she muttered.

Your lips twitched. “Oh? Just this once?”

“Shut up before I change my mind.”

You chuckled, brushing some of her damp hair away from her forehead before pressing a cool cloth against it. She melted under your touch, though she’d never admit it.

“See? Not so bad, is it?”

She grumbled but leaned into your hand.

You’d take that as a win.

For the next day and a half, Sevika was in absolute hell. Not because of the fever, but because she had to endure you fussing over her.

You forced her to take medicine.

You nagged at her to drink water.

You made her soup, even though she swore she hated soup (yet somehow, the entire bowl mysteriously disappeared when you weren’t looking).

She complained the entire time.

“Stop hovering.”

“I’m not hovering.”

“You’re literally watching me breathe, doll.”

“Making sure you still can breathe, actually.”

Sevika groaned, dragging a hand down her face. “This is worse than the fever.”

“Oh, bite me.”

“I would, but you’d probably shove a spoonful of medicine in my mouth the second I opened it.”

“Damn right, I would.” You teased, half-jokingly.

Still, for all her grumbling, she didn’t stop you.

And when the fever finally broke, and her strength came back, she sat at the edge of the bed, rubbing a hand over her face.

“Ugh,” she muttered. “I feel like I got run over.”

“You look like you got run over,” you teased, ruffling her already messy hair.

She scowled but didn’t swat your hand away. Instead, she glanced at you, something unreadable in her gaze.

“Thanks,” she said gruffly.

Your lips curled. “For what?”

She sighed, rolling her eyes. “You know what for.”

You grinned. “Say it.”

“No.”

“C’mon. Just say it, baby.”

“Absolutely not.”

You poked her cheek. “Sevika.”

She grunted.

“Vikaaaa—” you cooed her name, a smirk playing on your lips as you leaned into her.

She groaned, pushing your face away. “Fine. Thanks for taking care of me, you insufferable brat.”

You beamed. “Was that so hard?”

“Yes. Excruciating.”

You laughed, leaning forward to press a quick kiss to her forehead before she could complain. “You’re welcome, you stubborn thing.”

She rolled her eyes but didn’t hide the small, almost reluctant smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

Maybe, just maybe, she’d let you take care of her again next time.

Even if she would make you drag her out of the closet first.

A/N: BIG MAMA.

[princesssae]

{Chocolate Chip Cookies}

[Megumi Fushiguro x Platonic!Fem!Reader] [Gojo Satoru x Fem!Reader]

In Which -> You and eight-year-old Megumi bond after having a hard time sleeping!

Word Count -> 1.3k

Authors Note -> Yayayay I’m SO excited! I love Megumi SO much and I want to write for him more! (Perhaps more fics with him slowly growing up?)

Warnings -> afab!reader, fluff, established relationship with Gojo, not really any warnings but please let me know if there’s anything I should add!

When Gojo Satoru tells you that he has a child, you assumed that the said “child” would be a fur baby. A dog, cat, or even a mouse. But when you start dating him in your final years of high school, you notice that the “child” is actually a child. A human being. And it’s two children, to be precise.

Satoru is a heavy sleeper. His Infinity flickers in the middle of the night so it’s hard to cuddle with him. Tonight is one of those examples. He’s snoring and his limbs are spread all over the bed.

But that’s not what woke you up tonight. Waking up from your slumber, you look at your nightstand. It’s 3:32am. You’re still a bit drowsy, but you’re able to hear the refrigerator door open and shut. A few seconds later, you hear the slight drag of a chair across your wooden floors. You grimace. Hopefully it didn’t scratch the floor.

Is it someone breaking in? No, it can’t be. Their cursed energy feels similar, though. You slowly get out from your side of the bed, slide on your slippers and head to the kitchen.

The sound of your footsteps makes the burglar stop their movement. You turn the corner and you see a child. This child has a bed head and loose, black and yellow Batman pajamas on. You internally laugh. It’s Megumi.

“What are you doing up so late, ‘Gumi?” You ask.

He flinches. He’s eight years old now. It’s been 2 years since you’ve met him, and one year since you’ve moved in with the Gojo-Fushiguro family. You’d like to think that he tolerates you more than Gojo, considering the fact that Gojo likes to mess with poor Megumi often.

Does he think that he’s in trouble? You hope not. All this effort over the past few years can burn in a matter of seconds.

“I wanted milk,” he states. “Because I’m thirsty.” He looks like a kitten on the side of the road. Cute.

You look at the counter and see that there’s only one Pokémon themed plastic cup occupying the space. You look at the fridge and see one of your dining room chairs pressed against the door.

“Did you need help getting the milk?” You ask. He can’t reach, of course. That explains the noise from earlier.

You think of the last time you put the groceries in the refrigerator. It was earlier that day that you remember Satoru wanting to help put the groceries up despite not knowing where everything went. You make a mental note to tell Satoru that the milk should not be tucked away in the back of the refrigerator, where both Tsumiki and Megumi cannot reach. One time, he put the milk in the freezer and you were searching everywhere for it.

You set the chair back in the dining room and rummage through the stack of dumplings and sushi that Gojo begged to get, for himself obviously. Pulling the milk carton from the fridge, you set it down on the counter and let Megumi pour his own amount. He’s old enough and you trust him not to spill it.

Now, the both of y’all are more awake, but still silent. Suddenly, an idea pops in your mind.

“Would you like to make chocolate chip cookies? Tsumiki made the dough but we didn't finish making the batch last night,” you explain.

Megumi’s silent for a few seconds before he speaks up. “Sure,” he says. But before you do anything, you tell Megumi that it’s always proper etiquette to wash your hands before eating and making food in the kitchen.

While he washes his hands, you walk over to the oven and set it out to preheat. Going over to the fridge, you find the dough stashed away and covered from the vegetables sitting on top of it.

Did Gojo try to hide it? You giggle and get the dough out. It doesn’t take long for it to thaw out. You grab the baking pan and set in front of Megumi.

He watches you take a decent amount of cookie dough and roll it into a ball before placing it on the cookie tray. Then, he grabs some dough from the bowl and proceeds to make different shapes before placing them on the sheet. It’s okay though, because they’ll all end up flat anyways.

When y’all are done making the amount of desired cookies, you wash your hands again and take out the chocolate chips. Even though Tsumiki has added more than enough chips, you know Megumi has a sweet tooth. Maybe you’re also feeling a little sugar yourself.

“Would you like to add more chocolate chips to your cookies?” You ask. Megumi nods and takes the chocolate out of your hand. He makes smiley faces on his cookies before he tells you that he’s done.

Then the oven beeps to let you know that it’s done preheating, you grab the cookie tray and set it in the oven. You notice that one of the cookies doesn’t have chocolate chips in it at all. Ah, so that’s what he’s doing, you think.

You pick Megumi up and he punches 10 minutes in the timer on the oven. While the both of y’all wait, you refill his milk and get a glass for yourself. The rest of the time is spent making small talk about school, homework, teachers, his demon dogs, etc.

When the timer ends, you click clear and when you take the tray out of the oven, those golden brown cookies smell so very good. You let them cool down before setting them on a plate, giving the first cookie to Megumi.

After taking the first bite, his eyes close for just a second longer than needed, and that’s how you know that he likes it. When he takes his second cookie, the one without any chocolate in it, he splits it in half and summons his demon dogs. He feeds each of them half of the cookie and pets them for a bit. In the next few minutes, the cookies are gone in a flash and the milk is no longer there. You put the dishes in the sink and tell Megumi not to worry about it, and that you’ll get to it tomorrow.

As you walk him back to his bedroom, you tell him that, “Next time, we’re going to have to give you a glass of water on your nightstand so you don’t make any more noise in the middle of the night.” He laughs at that.

But you both know that neither of you mind these late night shenanigans. As he enters his room, his dogs find their spot on the bed to sleep with him. You watch with a smile, and once he’s settled into bed, you tell him to sleep well and get plenty of rest for the big day tomorrow.

The next morning, you wake up with Gojo screeching his head off and running into your shared bedroom. He shoves the empty plate of cookies in your face, but it’s not entirely empty. Melted chocolate chip residue is the evidence of the cookies you and Megumi enjoyed and savored last night.

Satoru whines and tells you that the next time you make cookies, you should wake him up, no matter what. As you smile in response to Gojo’s complaining, you don’t fail to notice the sly grin on Megumi’s face looking in between the crack of you and Satoru’s bedroom door.

Please do not copy, translate, or alter my work without my permission!

[captain-huggy-bear]

Congrats on 1k! It is so well deserved, I absolutely adore your writing <3

I’d love to request "What I'm trying to say is... I like you." + Quinn Hughes

Thank you <3

Ahh, thank you, lovely! I hope enjoy this one too <3 xx 1000 Followers Celly Currently ongoing 🥳🎉 Big requests/full fic/big idea requests are closed at the moment but drabble and prompt requests are still open. Writing Masterlist

Quinn has walked you to your front door after spending the day with you. A rare occurrence for Quinn mid-season, to have time to go out and about around Vancouver with you. You'd missed your friend as the season had gotten more and more intense. You understood of course, but it was nice to spend an entire day with him, not just passing minutes or an hour here or there.

"This was nice..." Quinn has his hands pressed into his pockets, beanie pulled over his curls that had started to grow out a little long. He's lingering, he knows he is, but he can't help it as he tries to say what he's thinking...without saying it.

"Yeah, it was nice." The smile you give him is oblivious, happy to have seen your friend as you unlock your front door and stand in the doorway.

"We should...we should do this again sometime?" God, he sucks at this, a hand coming up to rub the back of his neck like he's a school kid asking you to the school dance. Except it's not as obvious is it? Who says 'we should do this again sometime?'? Who says that?

"Yeah, I'd like that. You know I like spending time with you, Quinn...you're just really busy, y'know?" You sigh a little and he knows he's kind of dropped off the radar. Sure, he phones and he texts and he tries to make time for coffee, but it's not the same when he has to run out of every meet up within 40 minutes and every phone call is cut short.

But he also knows he makes more of an effort for you than most people. He tries to still see you, talk to you because he can't imagine not. "Yeah, but for you I can make time." The smile he sends your way is sweet, it sets your stomach fluttering but you remind yourself this is Quinn. He's not interested in you, never has been...you're just friends. As much as you wish you were more.

"Awww, that's sweet, but you don't have to."

"You're not...you're not getting it, huh?" Quinn rubs his brow, sighing because fuck, is he being vague or are you just oblivious? He thinks he's been pretty obvious over the years about how he feels, you're the only constant woman in his life that isn't a colleague or family.

"Getting what?"

"What I'm trying to say is... I like you." There, he's said it, he thinks. It's off his chest. He likes you and if you don't like him back that's fine...he can handle that, but he's done it.

"I like you too." Except the way you smile at him is still oblivious, sweet and it's obvious that you don't get what he's putting down, not picking it up in the slightest.

Quinn lets out the loudest sigh yet, head dropping back as he wills himself to just rip the band aid off, to just be clear with you and stop this painful miscommunication that's actually going to kill him.

"No, fuck. Sweetheart...I'm in love with you."

The way you freeze does not fill him with joy, if anything he feels sick to the stomach. Your smile drops, not into a frown, just drops. The shock evident on your face as you blink at him like that'll help you process what he's just said to you.

"...What?" You take a step forward and that alone gives him some hope, some confidence to keep going.

"I'm in love with you and when I say we should spend time together, I mean I want to take you on a date. When I say I can make time for you, I mean I want to make time for you because I want you to be mine. You understand what I'm trying to say?" By the end he's red in the face, breathless because he barely took a breath the entire spiel...and you're looking at him in a new light, a little smile starting, glowing almost.

"Oh...yeah. I get what you're saying." Your smile becomes a grin and it's enough, it's enough to keep that little flame of hope alive, enough for him to put all his cards on the table and hope for the best.

"So, can I take you on a date?"

Quinn licks his bottom lip, an old nervous habit, as he waits. It's seconds but it feels like minutes until you respond.

"Yeah, you can take me on a date."

Neither of you know how to act. Just stood there grinning at each other like idiots, like two friends who like each other a whole lot more, who just admitted it but have no idea how you're supposed to behave in that scenario.

"Cool...cool, see you later?" His wave is awkward, ridiculous because usually he'd hug you goodbye, but you wave back just as awkward and that somehow makes him feel a little better. That he's not the only one unsure how to navigate this.

"See you later."

He waits until you're in your house, door closed, before he walks off. You immediately rush to your window to watch him as he leaves. You catch the way he fist pumps the air, how he jumps with a new sort of skip in his step that has you giggling, even more so when he turns to look back at your house and catches your eye, flushing bright red at being caught.

Yeah...neither of you know how to act and maybe it's weird right now, but you think maybe it'll be alright in the long run. Afterall, Quinn Hughes loves you.

[erinwantstowrite]

Please yap more about the Psych AU! I just started watching season 7!! Also, who is your favorite character from Psych?

Hmmm well i don't wanna spoil too much... So i guess i'll yap about some general premise stuff?

I should clarify that LoF peter and Psych peter are pretty different backstory wise. I kept the sameish design because i just like drawing peter, but they have some variations between them. Like: uncle ben died, aunt may didn't. she actually gets transported with peter to this alt universe, so she's very involved in this au. i just haven't drawn her yet.

I also chose harry osborn instead of ned because i didn't want every au to be the same. I would have loved writing ned in this au, but he gets a lot of chance to shine in LoF. harry is in more spider-man iterations as peter's best friend and i feel like he fit that shawn and gus dynamic more with peter. (I see them as platonic in most universes.) ((I also see shawn and gus as platonic). in this au, harry and peter met when they were pretty young, sometime after peter's parents died (which would still be when he was around four years old). Norman is a pretty good dad at this time so he helps peter get into a good school so he and harry can have classes together (and also cause he thinks peter deserves a good school too). But harry and norman, over time, end up with a terrible relationship. Mostly caused by Norman slowly slipping into the Green Goblin role. so, he spends a lot of time with the Parkers. After ben's death, harry vows to take care of peter and may both. he ends up being the reason they accidentally find themselves in an alternate universe, but no one is really mad at him about it because May and Peter hit hard times and were about to lose their house, etc. don't want to tell y'all too much because i wanna save it, but that's our basics with backstory and set up

currently, i'm not sure if i want them to start in metropolis and end up in gotham, or start in gotham and end up in metropolis. I kind of lean towards them living in gotham but having a lot of business in metropolis

And by business, i mean that Peter gets into the photography business. He captures photos of all kinds of heroes and vigilantes, and sells them to newspapers for the highest pay. As Peter becomes more sure of his spider powers, he also becomes spider-man but with way more of a journalist vibe. I want him catching crooks in the act and exposing them with the pictures, becoming a mysterious freelance writer/photographer as well as vigilante. You can imagine how Clark Kent and Lois Lane are going to react lmfao

But then you also have the actual premise of the fic itself: Psych. Peter and Harry are both investigating something when they run into someone (at this point in time, i'm thinking Superboy aka Kon-El), and to get out of saying what the real deal is, he pretends to be psychic. Harry is mortified but he decides to roll with it. So now Peter has to pretend to be psychic, and Harry starts up a whole business about it. That means we're getting both of these businesses at once, which will converge that Bats and the Supers both into the storyline.

Why are they putting all this effort in for money? Well, one reason being duh, they need money in this new world. But mostly because it's gonna help take care of May, and they'll also get to start a new life in this alt universe

Also, my favorite Psych character is Gus. I love him so much, he's so stupid and so smart at the same time. Have you heard about pluto?

[bloodibambiidoll]

The copying in the Outer Banks fandom has gotten completely out of hand. I am not only speaking for myself, but for people who I’ve also witnessed this happening to. It seems that some of you have the mentality of “oh! Well this has probably been done before in fanfiction so it’s not copying because they didn’t invent it!” But if you see someone’s post, and take inspiration from it IN ANY WAY, you need to credit them for it.

It doesn’t matter if it’s a moodboard of a fic they haven’t posted yet. Or just a simple thought they put out into the universe. Even if you use someone’s gif they took the time to make and share, there needs to be credit. I think the over abundance of !Readers has made a lot of regurgitation happening between blogs in this fandom. And I’m not saying you shouldn’t write them, but they’re all the same. Spice it up. And when there is something new? I see it ripped off over and over again until it’s like a telephone game and the original poster is lost in the wind.

It fucking HURTS to put your time, creativity, energy, and care into something and then see someone else take your idea, not even make it their own, and then proceed to give you zero credit for it. Taking inspiration from people is a fundamental human reaction that every person does. But it doesn’t matter if it was malicious. It still hurts just the same. I have posted moodboards teasing my AUs and have had people take that idea and write it before I can ever even post my fic. It fucking sucks. It’s discouraging. And it’s just fucking rude and inconsiderate as hell.

On top of that, it’s fucking boring. Why would you want to march to the beat of every other person in this fandoms drum? Fanfiction is about being whoever the fuck you want, writing whatever the fuck you want, but it seems like people care more about notes and what others think than the actual content they’re putting out. This fandom needs to be less about the aesthetics and more about the content. I’m tired of reading the same thing over and over again. I’m tired of the 500-1k blurbs that throw me right into the smut with no plot or backstory.

Don’t get me wrong, I love a little smut blurb down, but when it’s all you see? It’s gets old. But that being said, the lack of support on longer fics, smut, and angst, is extremely discouraging to writers and it causes us to not want to take the time and effort to write those longer things because while notes aren’t everything, feeling unappreciated in any capacity is shitty. It’s a byproduct of itself.

We need to be more courteous of others. There needs to credit given when inspiration is taken from others. There needs to be less worry about what other people like, what other people will think and more focus on the creativity and the fun of fanfiction. Something needs to change because I have been seeing this almost daily. I have had friends and mutuals coming to me for these exact feelings I’m feeling and it’s discouraging and exhausting to see. There’s also this fear around calling people out for stealing because whenever someone does, hell rains down on them. It’s not cute. People should be allowed to defend their creativity on their own blog.

And they wouldn’t have to. If everyone just started giving credit where credit is due.

[gguk-n]

hi can u make a max fic where f1 are actually just a big kpop group like nct and y/n is their manager but max has like a big crush on her and she keeps rejecting him do whatever u want with the ending

I had so much fun writing this!!! But before we begin; quick explanation; NCT is a k-pop group under one of the biggest companies in South Korea. Their concept involves adding more members or revolving members through the different units and sub units. So, similar to the grid, I hope I explained that well.

Max's Crush

It would be 11 years since Max debuted. He was only 17, one of the youngest in the group back than. Now, it seemed that people younger than him when he started were joining, Through all of this; there were only two constants, the fans and their manager, Y/N. She had started out as an assistant when he had debuted but worked her way up to being their manager. She was the only one he listened to; hence why she was his personal manager too. All of his individual activities and schedules, Y/N would manage. She was great at it, that's why he loved her. Honestly, Max would love her even if she messed up his schedule and dropped a can of paint on him. That was how much in love he was with her.

Initially when he had started, they had a strict dating clause saying that they weren't allowed to date but after many years and also bringing pretty good revenue gave him more liberty and he used said liberty to openly flirty with Y/N; some people even made edits with them, hoping they'd date. Y/N would brush him and his attempts off with a light joke but Max could always feel a pang in his chest when she did that.

All of this started the first time he saw her, she was running behind their then manager, Leslie. She was an older lady with many years of experience under her belt and having been their group manager since Alonso had joined. Max saw the way Y/N would always smile at everyone and even put effort to make meals according to their diets so that they still got to have a hearty meal and she was pretty. So, even a small ounce of kindness made Max's heart flutter. Maybe it's because he was young, he thought this was a stupid crush he would be over soon but that didn't happen.

Fast forward to ten years and all Max could do was flirt with her. Y/N would kindly push him away or try to brush off the comment he made. Max would start his days with "You look pretty" or "That colour looks good on you" and end it with a smile telling her, "You did great" or "Wanna have dinner together?" It always hurt Max that she brushed him off.

Max had finally grown a pair, that's what Daniel said when they were hanging out. "I can't believe little Maxie is all grown up" Daniel laughed taking a sip of his wine. "Soooo, what's the plan?" he asked. "I'll let you know after" Max smiled. "The game you play is too long, even for me" Daniel added. "Anyways, good luck" he wished with a pat on his back.

Max had been planning it all week. He just had to ask Y/N to accompany him. So, he was busy looking for her, when he heard her voice. "I don't know how to tell him" Y/N said with worry in her voice. "I've been rejecting Max" she said will quoting rejecting with her fingers, "but I don't think he gets it" Y/N voiced. Max stood there, shocked listening to the conversation. "I just don't wanna be mean or inconsiderate" Y/N said. "Honestly, he's the one inconsiderate when you keep rejecting him and he's still behind you" their hair stylist voiced. Max had heard enough, he was about to leave with his broken heart when, "This should stop him" their hairstylist said while pointing at her hand. Y/N took her left hand in her right, cradling it. "Yeah, this should be quite the statement" she said holding up her hand in the air, admiring the ring in her ring finger. "Your fiance is a good man. I know you two will always be very happy. Like you've been with him for almost 7 years now" their hairstylist stated. That was the nail in Max's heart's coffin.

Max found tears streaming down his eyes. He wipes away the tears falling; he slowly walked out of the building. He was so angry and so hurt. He couldn't think straight other than call their CEO to tell them he wanted a new manager and as soon as tomorrow. He couldn't bear to see Y/N face anymore. All these thoughts were running through his head; why didn't she tell him? was he this blind? was he stupid? did others know? But right now he didn't care. All he cared about was running as far away from Y/N, as soon as possible so she wouldn't make him look stupid than he already felt. So, he called their CEO, "I want a new manager as soon as tomorrow. I don't want to see Y/N at my house from tomorrow." he stated, not giving them a chance to question. "If you want me to not terminate my contract, you'll do as I say" he said and hung up.

[faeryarchives]

savanaclaw with a furina - like female reader!

the "regina of all waters, kindreds, peoples and laws" is deeply loved by all. under her flamboyant and imprudent facade, lies a girl holding an unbearable weight and guilt on her shoulders to save her people. note: as requested and i love furina sm hihi i will also write for other dorms warning: major spoilers for genshin archon quest other fics: heartslabyul with a furina-like reader & i'm not jealous !! & to my beloved & more than words

-‘๑’- leona kingscholar

"huh? what is the esteemed dorm leader of savanaclaw doing in front of my house?" "... why do you look like you didn't sleep for days? nevermind, take back your pets - they've been following me the whole day and poking me with water." "oh my archons, they like you!"

leona knew different kinds of people, faes and beastmen but never a god! not that you broadcasted it to the world - of course he heard it while grim was chatting away from the garden

so this lion observed your moves and to be honest, you were just like an ordinary person

"what are you doing hiding behind me?" "ahem! you know, i don't really know the forest that much so i would appreciate if i would put myself behind yo- ahhh! what is that?!" "it's just a branch, herbivore. i never knew you are scared of branches."

he actually gained another chess player buddy - he discovered it at the cost of being drenched in water from your water familiars

never he would imagine how on earth did you not go crazy standing in for your archon and acting for so so long? and despite belittling you and your friend group, he couldn't believe his ears when you stood up for him against the other dorms

"what leona did was wrong but how would you feel if all the trainings and efforts were all in naught and overlooked by the people you considered as family? imagine if your fate has already been sealed before you were even born?"

oh, he didn't expect you of all people to do that honestly + not so bad at all so expect a lot of sweets everyday curtesy of this lion

don't tell anyone but with you acting just as yourself and discovering your passions with him as a witness - leona feels proud like a lion watching his cub succeed

extra: you and cheka really go along well to the point that leona thinks cheka might replace him with you someday

-‘๑’- ruggie bucchi

ruggie trusts his skills in sneaking around and swiping things if needed and he will bet that no one could ever discover him immediately

"after pulling a prank on grim and my salon members, you must think that i am much of a gullible fool?"

now you both did really met at a rough start - the hyena thought you would be more snobbish and not to mingle with people below his level especially after hearing you being a god

but seeing you shielding him during leona's overblot and regularly visiting him during his recovery at the clinic made him questioned his thoughts about you

"why are you always visiting me? i thought you hated me?" "...? where did you get that nonsense? if i do hate you, i would go out of my way to buy these doughnuts for you."

well look at you two now! close like two peas in a pod - you really enjoyed spending time with ruggie because you were seeing the world in a different perspective

having hard time picking your new macaroni menu for the day? no worries, ruggie will make sure you will be able to cook other meals than this. not good with bargaining with sam? hold his groceries, he have this in the bag.

"more interesting trinkets for me~!" "oh you collect trinkets? why didn't you say so?"

omg new trinket collector buddy 🥺 whenever you give him something such as a bracelet or even a hairclip he will wear it like a badge of honor

it's alright to help other students but he is worried that being to kind in nrc might backfire on you

"you shouldn't be too trusting here. i know you just want to help but like your friends said - you should also help yourself at times."

while he might not look like it but ruggie can sense your mood change accurately especially when it involves the topic of your past

this one whole year on nrc might not be comparable to your 500 years of living but ruggie will make sure that it will be the best one

-‘๑’- jack howl

other than the adeuce and grim team - jack is the person you actually vibe with!

maybe its because his sense of justice and responsibility reminds you of a dear friend back home and it actually comforts you to see it + makes you feel less homesick

this man is very used to his little siblings so expect him to come off as a brotherly vibes + probably makes you an exemption to touching his ears and letting your salon members put some design in his hair

"... do you think these three would be great teammates during magift competitions?"

"hmmm, i must say they do make a great team. what if we bring it up to leona, i think these three will enjoy it very much."

well the dorm leader liked the idea but seeing how they acted during the practice - it's safe to say it is very risky because they only listen to you, jack and leona

ANYWAYS jack sometimes come to the ramshackle dorm just to wake you up knowing you probably stayed up late reading your novels

he tried inviting you to his morning run only to see you the next day already tired and carrying you on his back after one run

"you can't blame me okay! i was born to drama and directing not in running!"

speaking of carrying you on his back he sometimes do it just because he wants to especially when jack knows too well how much you overwork yourself

while he can read you very well, you can also read this guy by the book through his ears and tail movement

"... jack what are you doing here so late?" "…what? it’s not like i was waiting for you or anything." "i never said that though?" "hmp." while he look away, his tail would impatiently wag and hit the wall behind him making you laugh "uhuh, whatever you say. let's go back to our dorms now big guy."

it turns out that while spending the whole afternoon up to evening, jack wanted to accompany you back to the dorm safely - worried that someone is bullying you because you were down for days.

he is not that expressive with words - but just know that jack will always be your friend despite your upbringings or not being open to tell your past, he understands it pretty well

[hollowed-theory-hall]

I'm writing my first fic, so are there any tips to write Harry so I don't Butcher his character, lol

Like, I can try and give advice, but writing is such a personal journey, and it can work very differently for every writer. Like, what works for me and helps me to stick to his character might not work for you.

What I can tell you is that the first HP fic I ever wrote had a Harry I will now consider OOC.

It's not the worst I've seen, but I know I'm better at it now than 4 years ago when I wrote that story because I know him better, and I became a better writer. But that first story has an OOC Harry, an OOC Voldemort, and, well, a lot of other characters are OOC there, too. I'm pretty sure Sirius is the only one I consider somewhat in-character in that story, lol.

I can explain what I do, which again might not work for you. The only way you'd know what does work for you is if you try different methods, experiment, and learn. Becouse if you know what you're doing and you're a good enough writer, there aren't a lot of rules you can't break or characterization you can't pull off. And to become a good writer there is no way other than writing. And reading. A lot.

You just gotta start writing and figure out what methods work for you to get the characters the way you envision them.

Also, please remember fanfic is supposed to be fun. I might be super picky about Harry's characterization, but I promise you there are a lot of readers who aren't and would be happy to read a good story even if Harry isn't characterized perfectly. As I said, I wrote some bad OOC fic in my life (40+ bad wips that would never see the light of day). These bad fics were necessary so I could get good. Becouse to get good, you need to start somewhere. So, as I said, write, don't be scared of making mistakes, figure out what works for you, and trial and error your way to victory.

That being said, this is my list of what I do to write any character consistently and in character, not just Harry, (and some writing advice in general, really):

1. Get the mannerism right

What I mean by that is that characters, like human beings, are capable of a lot under the right circumstances. When writing a fic a character isn't going to stay the same as in canon if their situation changes, so I find it more useful to think of how characters do/say things rather than what they do. Basically, any character can do anything and it would feel in character if the circumstances and how they go about it make sense.

For me, I know dialogue is one of my strengths as a writer, and I put effort into learning characters' dialects and speech patterns. Harry would use the word "bloke" and not "guy". He never uses "Bloody hell" or "Blimey". Harry's swears are often censored from the books, so I take it Harry says "fuck" or "sodding hell". When he thinks mid-sentence he says "er..." often. Harry, in general, doesn't speak as often as Ron or Hermione.

Ron, on the other hand, says "bloody hell" and "Blimey" often. He also says "mate" a lot. Hermione rarely shortens words. Often in the books, she would say "we are" rather than "we're" and is generally more formal in her speech. She also uses more words than both boys to get the same point across.

All these little patterns of speech add a lot to the characters feeling like themselves. The choice of words matters more than what they're actually saying, a lot of times. The what can be heavily influenced by the circumstances but the how should be familiar.

Let's take a reaction of surprise to the same good thing happening:

"Blimey, I can't believe it," said Ron, grinning from ear to ear.

"Oh, that's wonderful," Hermione said, smiling and turning to Ron and Harry, "You can see this too, right?"

"That's brilliant," said Harry, grinning at the sight of [thing].

So, these sorts of details just add a lot to characterization and I find that if you can pull the voice and mannerisms off, you can pull off almost any actions, and the character would feel in character as long as it's not outrageous.

2. "Character Bible"

I usually have a little "character bible" which is like 6-10 commandments of how the character needs to behave (key personality traits and behavior), and when I'm editing, I go back to it. What you choose to put in your "character bible" can change depending on what matters to you more as a writer. For Harry, my character bible is something like this:

Says more in his head than outside his head.

Snarks back when threatened, hot-headed when in emotional distress, doesn't say anything if it's a possibility (unless he likes who he's talking to).

Wit. Wit. Wit. (add witty remarks in narration or dialogue if the opportunity arises. Sarcastic humor is good for Harry's narration).

Very talented and smart, very low self-worth

Awkward, but no one but him knows this

"I won't!" (He does not do well with authority or direct orders. The quote is from GoF when he resists the imperious curse)

Trust issues galore (he doesn't really trust anybody besides Sirius. Only in HBP does he start to tell Ron and Hermione everything).

Selectively observant (Harry observes what he cares about. If he doesn't care, it might as well not have been there) and super judgmental in his narration.

Wants to be left alone and be content and safe.

3. Edit.

I'm sorry to say it, but reading through your own writing again and again and fixing it up every time helps so much. After I finish writing a chapter I take a break to go to bed and then come back the next day and reread the chapter with new eyes and correct everything that seems out of character, any phrasing that feels awkward, spelling and grammar errors if I notice them. But this first go-through immediately after is mostly for characterization, voice, and plot.

In general, during a first draft, your goal is to get it written, making it good is what editing is for. That's why my mantra during the process of writing the first draft is: "I'll fix it in post".

4. Let the character take the wheel

This is more specific to my own writing method, but, you know how there are method actors? So I'm a method writer. Sorta, I'm half-joking.

What I mean by this, is that I get to know a character by writing them (a lot) and then I don't really need to think about it. Like, I just write what feels right to the character. Like, whenever I'm unsure about a scene, I'd go: "Harry take the wheel" and just type what the character thinks, in my mind. It's kind of hard to explain, but it's sort of discovery writing in small limited doses, essentially. I sort of let the character take over for the scene. Like I'm not writing the story, just typing it. Kinda like demonic possession, just, not.

I know it's not really the characters and that I'm writing it, I just find this process hard to explain. When you write a character a lot and often, you can become capable of writing them naturally. Almost like breathing. Like writing your own narration, except, it isn't. But it takes effort to get to this point.

Again, this won't necessarily work for everyone, but it's what I found works for me.

5. Unsure? Open the books

The books exist and if you're unsure how Harry would react to something, just, check. I have an ebook version of GoF open when I'm writing my fic, which takes place in GoF. So, if I'm unsure how Harry would phrase something or react to something, I just check.

6. Get a Beta Reader

My best advice though, is to find a fandom friend to beta read for you, someone you trust to tell you if you're writing OOC and help you fix it (preferably they would also be a writer). Becouse sometimes you don't see it yourself after you just wrote it. My beta for my fic also helped me write my novel, and she knows me as a writer, I know her as a writer, and she knows what sort of things she needs to pay attention to in my writing and vice versa.

That first OOC fic I mentioned? I let her read it, and she told me that the pacing is crap and Harry is acting off (in nicer words, she was very polite about it, but that's what she meant). And that sort of feedback is invaluable for improving and I'm incredibly grateful to her.

Sometimes, you need to hear the truth, even when it's unpleasant, that's how growth happens.

(Now she practically never comments on characterization or pacing, improvement!)

7. Perfect is the enemy of good

I don't think my characterization of Harry is perfect. I don't think my writing is perfect. Whenever I go back to edit, I always find more stuff to fix. But there is a point where you gotta stop fixing it and just post it. Because you'll never know how it will go if you don't do it.

At some point, after all the editing, you just need to declare your work is "good enough" (having a beta really helps in telling when "good enough" is, especially at first, since most writers tend to be hyper-critical of their own work). You'll always reread your work and think "oh, I could've wrote this line better" or "oh, that sounds wrong" even after you post it (but so could the best authors to ever live, I'm sure. It's just how it is).

So, It won't be perfect, nothing ever will. But it can still be great and amazing and make someone's day, even if it isn't "perfect".

So, don't be scared to make mistakes or butch it up on your first attempt, you're human, you're learning, and you can improve. But that can only happen if you start writing because nothing teaches better than hands-on experience.

[ao3scrapesearch]

Hey so I'm not very tech savvy but I was wondering if adding random silly lines or just something that makes no sense between paragraphs/sentences on our fics can poison AI if the fics are scraped?? I tried something by adding some random lines with white text between paragraphs of my fic which don't show up on default ao3 mode but they are a part of the text nonetheless. Of course that'll involve more efforts on part of the writers to add lines and format the white text using html and workskins but if it does turn out to be effective it might make ao3 less lucrative for AI scraping if a major amount of works contain this and it'll make it harder for AI training. It does have drawbacks that it'll only work on default mode so anyone using dark skin on ao3 might have to switch to be able to read properly and it'll make works less accessible to readers who use text to audio if there are random lines in between but what other options are we left with if even archive locking our works doesn't work??

You absolutely could, but there are limitations to that.

For one, like you said, you're making your work inaccessible to certain readers. That's fully within your rights, though I think most of us strive not to exclude people using screen readers.

Second, from what I know, when you download a dataset like this and intend to use it to train an AI model, you first go through the dataset looking for obvious junk data and toss that out. So if you're putting something that is clearly not real fanfic in there, any decent data analyst is probably going to spot it and toss your fic. If that's your goal, that's a win for you. Personally, if I'm making the effort to inject poison data, my goal is to be included in the training data used so I can trash the model, so I don't want it to be obvious.

Third, I don't see anything explicitly in AO3's TOS against adding data poison in this way, but I don't see them endorsing doing that either. It feels like a grey area to me, and I'm not sure you're allowed to do it, so I am not recommending anyone do this. Rest of this post is theoretical.

So theoretically, how I would do it is putting the junk data at the end of the fic/chapter. Hide it like you're saying, by changing the font and/or background color of the section with CSS. Then put a nice, clear message right after the chapter ends and the junk data starts, something like, "Hey, readers! This chapter is over. Turn off your screen reader and move to the next chapter now." That gives your real humans a warning and stops them from being confused or wasting their time. Then dump your poison. You can also write something in the beginning A/N, I believe. I know this most recent scraper never ever pulled data from the author's notes, so the AI wouldn't see anything you put in that section.

Scrapers are typically pulling your work without the workskin enabled, so for formatting, you're really just trying to make it look nice for your real readers so they don't have to see your poison.

As far as actual poison, my suggestions:

Your own writing or writing you have explicit permission to use, so you're not breaking anyone's copyright. Easy mode: jumbled paragraphs of your own past works for any fandom except the one your current fic is for.

As mentioned above, don't put absolute nonsense in there. If it's bad enough, it'll be spotted and filtered out. Like, if it's not even real words, anyone feeding it to AI is probably going to catch that and toss your data out, excluding it from the model. It might be fine if it's all real words, but not in any sensible order. Not sure on that. But don't just insert keysmashes if you want your data to be used in the AI training.

Terrible crackfic would be good. So would writing for a completely different fandom and different tags. The writing should not fit well with the tags you use for the fics. (So if the real fic is tagged Fluff and Alternative Universe - Coffee Shop, your poison should not include that. Make the poison a hurt no comfort canon-compliant fic or something else different.)

Keep in mind you should not be putting E-rated data poison in a G-rated fic. Real humans may still see this no matter how much you hide it, particularly if they download a PDF copy of your fic. If it's content that requires a warning per AO3's rules (explicit content, graphic violence, etc), you do still have to tag for that, even if it's designed to be invisible to humans.

Use unique writing, so even if someone later using it for AI catches it once, they can't just search for the exact wording you used in one fic and easily filter out all the rest of your poison. Again, this is if you want to be included in the AI training to throw the model off.

Again, theoretically, if I were going to do this, this is the CSS code I might use for my poison section of the fic:

#workskin .fuckai { background: #333333; color: #333333; font-size: 1%; }

It would theoretically look like a weird grey gap to mobile users or be nearly invisible to desktop users, even if it contained, say... 1,000 additional words.

Finally, scrapers are trying to grab millions of fics from AO3 when they do it. They're not looking closely at 13 million fics. They're only searching for the most obvious junk. So the only reason you would want to hide it like that is to make a better experience for your real readers. You don't need to hide it to get it into a scraper's AI model.

[yayll]

heyyy! I just read ur rockstar!Dazai fic and it honestly reminded me of this idea I had!!! (loved the fic btw!) Are you able to write an actor!dazai x fem!actor reader and they r fake dating while secretly being rivals ?? (I’d like 2 be known as 🦎-anon!)

hiiii 🦎 anon hehe

i'm sorry this was quite the wait, i LOVED your idea and i wanted to write it properly and i kind of took some liberties so i hope you enjoy it regardless? thank you for trusting me w your fic idea actor!dazai now haunts me actually dazai in any like, imagine just fucks my shit up that man is a menace in any story i put him in and i'm so glad others agree. i love u baby mwah u get so many ivy kisses

~ a little something about you and actor!Dazai keeping up appearances ~

"You're choking meee!"

"I'm just fixing your tie, Osamu-"

"It's babe, actually."

"It's whatever I want if you want me to keep holding your hand in public, jerk."

He pouts at this. What a cute little meanie you were! Always scolding him and spewing empty threats as if you were hot shit. You were hot shit, and that was only the beginning of his problems... The biggest one right now being backstage with you while attending the hottest awards show of the year.

Just before he can respond, the curtains are drawn and it's a stagehand whisking you two away to present the next award infront of thousands of fans. You're walking side by side, your heels clicking with each step when Dazai leans in to whisper something.

"You should stand on my left, my right side is more attractive."

"We're both facing forward, does it matter?"

He raises a brow and huffs dramatically in typical Dazai fashion. You two had been 'dating' for a year now, everyone was invested in this blooming romance ever since you both started in that drama together, now it's nothing but red hearts for you two.

It wasn't planned, it just kind of happened... It also wasn't completely awful, but it was the goddamn ego on Dazai that really made you want to strangle him sometimes. He knew he was pretty and desired, and what a threat you were with such an iconic streak in all of your latest projects. No wonder you two had to be paired together, on your own you were both dynamite. An unstable formula that needed to be stabilized by combining it together. Thanks to Dazai, you learned very quickly it could always get worse.

You present the award holding hands the entire time, an act highly encouraged by the need to convince, and yet when it's you two doing it it never feels as forced as you'd like it to be. There is a comfortability in the role of this relationship, you've come to realize yet supress. You'll hold hands for so long you begin to get clammy, and it's certainly not because he dotes on you almost every time he speaks! Which he hates doing... It's just a script, after all. Duh.

You're both making your way out of the venue towards the car that awaits to drive you to the after party when you're ambushed by interviewers and hundreds of flashes that yell out speed questions.

"Does the beautiful couple have time to stop and answer a few things for us tonight!"

Dazai loves that shit. Of course he has the time, he doesn't care if you don't. He has to sell it, obviously, since you don't put in the effort according to him. He flashes the interviewer that sardonic little smirk you hate and speaks innocently.

"Why, us? Sure! Right, honey?"

He turns to you and the crowd loves it. You hold back how badly you want to roll your eyes and simply smile, holding yourself high with grace and a ton of media training.

"We'd love to."

The interviewer is overjoyed as she looks between you and Dazai, taking in that affection that radiates from your false words. She grins as she goes along to ask her question.

"So, I think a lot of the fans are wondering..."

You and Dazai perk up, not even realizing that you're clutching the bottom of your dress so tighty that your knuckles are white. The interviewer looks directly at you.

"The two of you have been the most stunning couple the industry has seen in a while. Any plans for the future?"

You freeze. Ugh, not this again. You shake your head, smirking to yourself at the absurdity of the concept alone.

"Thank you, but honestly we're just taking things day by day. There's no rush between us, we have all we need right here and now."

The journalist smiles again and nods, seemingly impressed by your laid back attitude. Dazai snorts and suddenly interjects, clearly having a cheeky response to give to the crowd of journalists.

"We'll have tons of kids in the future, actually~"

Your panic is so instant that you literally laugh out loud, yet recover quickly by turning your shock into a playful glance at your lover. You manage a more sweet giggle and smack him on the chest a little harder than people would guess.

"Ooh, he's joking, of course."

The journalist rejoices, finding your banter and your overall interaction as a couple cute. The ideal power couple! Dazai grins and turns to you again, leaning in to tease you, his narrowed Hazelnut eyes piercing into you like a promise.

"Not joking. One day we're going to have a massive pack of little kids running around. And it's going to be your fault for being sooo cute~"

And with that, he leans in all the way into a million dollar kiss on your confused and parted lips. You're taken so offguard you almost fall back and of course grab onto him a little tighter... and run your fingers through his disheveled hair you forgot to nag him to cut... As the cameras go off like crazy, you wonder if it's worth ruining your public image for a while just so you can slap him harder than you ever have before.

Everyone's cooing and you're fuming, so you settle for a quick thank you and goodbye as you drag Dazai off the red carpet and into the car. He's giggling the entire time, of course. As soon as the door shuts out the screaming fans watching you drive off, you turn to Dazai and whisper ardently.

"What was that all about?! We didn't discuss this prior to-"

"... You liked it."

"Huh?"

"You liked it when I kissed you."

You scoff, though it sounds like you're choking.

"I did not. I just did what I had-"

"... And you want to have my babies. That's adorable, how devoted of you!"

You smack him on the arm but he's smiling like a cat who's had too much catnip, too far gone into his delusions to care about the repercussions. Love is love, after all...

"I think we should break up, like officially. You're nuts. The press won't let that go, Osamu."

He perks up, snapping out of his stasis and crinkles his nose in disapproval. He shakes his head, his hand on his chin as if in deep thought. Dazai mutters, barely above a whisper.

"... We won't actually break up, though."

"And why not?"

"Because in about 60 seconds we're going to kiss again and you'll be clinging onto me the entire night."

You snort into a laugh, tilting your head in disbelief. The car slowly comes to a halt as you arrive at the after party where a familiar roar of the crowd awaits to greet you once more. You begin your futile argument yet again.

"I don't see why I would do that."

At such a silly reply, Dazai softens his voice, looking at you like he first did when you both met on set a year ago. A lifetime ago. You're so cute when you're playing dumb. He shrugs, carefree.

"Neither do I, which is why I want to know too. I want to know what you're thinking about, if it's me."

You hate the way he sounds so sincere, like a real boyfriend would if he were trying to convince you you're just as into him as he is into you. Mind games is what it is, or at least you hope so. You really hope so.

You sigh, suddenly over the conversation as you open the car door to begin climbing out. Dazai follows suit and the roar of the crowd makes your chest feel tight as overstimulation takes over. You want to be anywhere but here and you wonder if you're having some sort of panic attack, but it just doesn't feel describable.

You turn wildly, disoriented by the camera flashes and instant fuss of the press, only to be faced by your one and only savior: the omnipotent Osamu Dazai. You don't know what it is about him in that moment, you just glide into his arms and complete the prophecy as you hook your arm with his, taking deep breaths as you finally ground yourself. It feels like the right kind of wrong, and you don't care to question it.

You feel a squeeze and a soft velvety voice whisper to you once again, you don't even have to look at him to know he's as smug as ever. But amongst the teasing, there's affection there too...

"So, am I?"

"Are you what, Osamu?"

"On your mind."

"At this point you're practically a permanent resident."

You hear him hum, a smile still present on his lips, the world simply frozen for him to continue his private conversation with you in public.

"Hmm, remind me to have you repeat that to me later."

This causes you to squeeze his arm back and murmur in genuine curiosity, finally daring to face him. He's already looking right at you, so devilish and angelic at the same time that you can't even look away.

"Why?"

"Because your time's up. 60 seconds, remember? Now come and kiss me already, the camera's are waiting~"

The photos of you two that night were the envy of couples everywhere. If only they knew how the ride back to the hotel went, it would be a scandal! Or simply the next step in your future?

[bokettochild]

So the thing about a lot of Prince! Legend reveal fics is that they miss out on all the juicy bits of the aftermath. Warriors thinking of Legend as like this secretly honorable, noble person who should be protected as he carries the precious blood of Hylia

And then Legend tells Warriors to piss off and wins a battle competition for best trick shot kill and Warriors has to reconcile both images of Legend in his head

Legend meanwhile sees Wars treating him differently and is paranoid about waking up with a knife in his back bc he's a stain on the Royal legacy due to being a boy/raised as a commoner/rude

And then Sky wants to connect to Legend as family and Legend wants to stay away from any reminders that he's royalty

And his Hyrule! Have the guards gotten over the mind control and respect him but he doesn't trust them still? The royal knights he grew up knowing and trusting until his first adventure? Do the villagers of each town acknowledge him? Do they know there's a prince but not that it's Link? Do they think of him as a rags to riches story or as a class traitor?

There's so much good shit I don't see explored a lot in the prince!legend headcanon that I would love to see and so I'm excited about you seemingly want to focus on this rather than just the shock value

I'm so glad you're excited! I actually haven't seen the poll results yet, but the reception in the comments/tags has been overall very positive and encouraging, so i think i'll probably be writing this thing LOL

There is a lot of change I want to explore with the fic, but while fluff is a must, I probably will touch on the heavier aspects of what Legend's being a prince would mean for him, Hyrule, and the systems in his world in general.

I sort of like the idea of his lineage being an open secret to those who knew him growing up because he's a dead-ringer for the late queen, and since he never knew that, he's never made an effort to hide it. While there might be some who think of him as a class-traitor, I don't think it would be that many of them, since he does work for a living, doesn't live like a prince by any stretch of the word, and never puts on airs or treats the people of Hyrule like they're below him. He's hard working, helps anyone who asks, and generally is a decent guy, so the people who are most affronted at his existence would probably be other nobles/religious folks.

Wariors and Wild will probably both be having a lot of conflict with trying to reconcile the ornery vet to a prince, especially when he is still very much a teenager, but I think, since Sky and Legend are pretty close already in cannon, they'd come out okay.

My take on Sky probably doesn't care much about the royal part of things, just that Legend is family, and considering most of Legend's family was killed by Ganon, I think he'd enjoy having that.

Anyways, the shock factor will probably play a role, at least at the start as everyone finds out, but yes, I want to go beyond just the initial realization we all like playing with and actually dig into the world-building and dynamics and how Legend's being a prince effects all of that!

[yanderenightmare]

heya! do you have any more writing tips for writing on tumblr? like, any tips to get as much attention as you, kinda

Tips for Writing on Tumblr

Sure!

♡ Post in different lengths!

Or, more precisely, don’t only post long full-fics with multiple chapters.

I know it sounds weird, but the more effort you put into something doesn’t actually guarantee more payoff. Why would anyone read your hour-long fic if they have no previous experience with your writing that gives you credibility? In other words, how can they know spending an hour reading your writing is worth it?

More people are likely to grab a bite-sized appetizer than they are to sit down for a full five-course meal.

But! The more people like those bite-sized appetizers, the more likely they are to want to sit down for that full five-course meal, you know?

Think of those bite-sized appetizers as taste tests—kind of like commercials that bring more people in to give your actual meals a try.

Also, writing in different lengths is good for you! Only writing hour-long stuff makes you burn out quickly, which brings me to my next tip...

♡ Post often!

If you can, try posting something every day. Of course, you can’t post full hour-long fics every day, which is where writing smaller things such as drabbles, headcanons, and tiny prompts come in. Think of them as flings you have in between your long-term relationships. They’re fun little things good for your health!

But anyway, here’s a tip for when you do have those long-term relationships—as in when you want to write full-fics or longer posts in general...

♡ Start with a hook! 

My attention should be seized by the first paragraph, if not the very first sentence I read. This is so important.

I’m a very picky reader sometimes—so if that first line doesn’t interest me, I’ll be fast to scroll to find something more enticing. And you can be sure a lot of readers are the same.

Under are some examples of my own start-liners.

Something foreboding:

There’s something very off about your roommate… something eerie that makes you keep your distance.

The plot:

Thinking about the big and burly behemoth Omega finally finding himself the cutest little Alpha to breed with…

Something catchy:

Give a brat an inch, and they'll take a mile. 

Something snappy:

You’re his favorite whore…

Dialogue:

“Feels like you’re luring me into some trap.”

A prompt:

Yanderes who keep you higher than a kite…

In medias res:

You lay on your belly on the bed.

Anyway, they don’t have to be groundbreaking—just anything that will spike interest in the reader.

♡ Write Different Characters!

Having a niche character you love writing is nice and all. Mine used to be Bakugou and Shigaraki, then Gojo. But even as they were my favorites, I still explored others. Writing for more characters across fandoms will naturally help you reach a larger audience. So, it's definitely something to consider.

♡ Inserts!

In the same spirit of writing different characters, inserts are also worth exploring.

Inserts are when you don’t name any specific character in the story, but either give options for what characters your audience can imagine or leave it completely up to them. This works best if you have a nice starter line that tells you what kind of character this is without naming them.

Examples:

Bruiser boyfriend

Ex-military Yandere

Benevolently sexist boyfriend

Creep Step-bro

You can go further and identity the reader as well:

Big, brawny, chubby-muscled Boss and his perfectly bite-sized assistant

In other words, people like to know what they’re about to read before they start.

Otherwise and lastly...

♡ Make Your Writing Accessible! 

Say I like one of your posts, and I click your profile to check you and your other posts out, but all I see when I scroll through your blog is endless reblogs and one-off comments about this and that. My second instinct is to check out your Masterlist. If you don’t have one, my mission is fraught, and I’ll be out of there quickly. If you do have one, but it’s messy, then my patience will wane, and again, I’ll be out post-haste. 

The bottomline is to have a neat pinned post that makes it easy to navigate your blog, with all your relevant stuff easily accessible. Check out mine for reference. But the most important is for it to include your rules, how to request, and your masterlists.

Then, of course, this is obvious, but...

♡ Remember That Things Take Time

I’ve been running @yanderenightmare since 2020. Back then, it took me half a year to get my first 1000 followers. And most of my posts would only get about 500 or so likes. And, that’s another thing—if I was doing it for the likes and follows I probably wouldn’t still be here, so make sure you enjoy what you’re writing and stuff. If you have that conviction, then the rest is just a nice bonus.

Hope it helps!

♡ NIGHTMARE'S HELPDESK

[prince-liest]

was recently talking to a friend about qi rong which then lead to me going on a reread of my favorite qi rong fic EVER, and now I’m in my feels about him, his relationship with his family, and his relationship with xie lian and guzi.

I just love qi rong a lot. to be clear, he’s a horrible little gremlin and that is a lot of WHY I love him - but I also think that fundamentally qi rong is a character who is super traumatized but does not receive sympathy for that trauma because he is not traumatized in a “palatable” way which is a trend that starts when he is young and just never ends, canonically, at any point in his life

right from the bat: the first 5 years of his life, he's being physically and emotionally abused, he's cast out to live in a shed, his mom is forgotten by her family. by the time she finally escapes his abusive father and goes back to the palace, her elopement with him has been swept under the rug and most people don't actually know what happened - and are then weirded out by her and qi rong, causing all the children and even most adults around qi rong to basically refuse to interact with him. so he's abused and hated, then isolated to the point where nobody talks to him, nobody plays with him. the one time he thinks he succeeded at attempting to make some friends, it turns out that they tricked him into writing a death wish for himself and his mother on his lantern.

and all the while, he's watching xie lian and the adulation he receives, not understanding why xie lian gets those things and he does not. everyone always says he looks like xie lian. he’s even called xiao jing, like he’s a mirror of the crown prince. what’s the difference?

and then xie lian himself is the only person aside from his own mother to be genuinely kind to qi rong. qi rong is desperately lonely, envious and fixated on the cousin that nobody will stop comparing him to, and then said cousin is the only person to reach out to him with kindness. of course he wants to attach himself to xie lian and emulate him.

unfortunately for both of them, then his mother dies - not just randomly, but specifically in defense of xie lian’s mother, and having extracted a promise for xie lian’s parents to care for qi rong. however, things don’t actually change at that point. sure, they take him in and buy him whatever he wants, but as far as love and care are concerned, xie lian is really the only potential source of those things left for qi rong. xie lian is also a teenager with a lot of pressure on his shoulders and a lack of understanding of difficult situations. of course he doesn’t know how to raise his traumatized, misbehaving cousin! and nobody else bothers to. it’s deeply unfair for xie lian to be used as the singular tool to discipline and direct qi rong, and that directly contributes to their extremely soured relationship.

now that qi rong’s mother is dead, there is nobody left around that actually wants him or is willing to put effort into properly raising him. when a kid turns out as wild as qi rong - that's not just random happenstance, that happens because they weren't parented right (or at all). he acts out in increasingly insane ways for the attention everyone hates to give him - anyone's, but especially xie lian's, which sucks for xie lian because it should have been his parents providing qi rong with an authority figure and source of love, not xie lian's teenage self. and people respond by waving him off, giving him whatever he wants just to make him go away, and ignoring him, because he has a deeply off-putting personality.

and it causes everyone around qi rong to resent him in this vicious cycle that escalates his behavior because he doesn't know what else to do - until eventually even xie lian, the one person that he really looked up to, hates him too.

obviously qi rong is an awful person by the point we reach in canon, but I also think that if he had received regular hugs as a child and maybe some actual parenting from someone who didn’t beat him, instead of just being given a bunch of money and being told to fuck off

specifically because he was weird and traumatized and unlikeable

things would have turned out very different for him. because he very clearly tries - that’s one thing that’s very clear in the flashbacks and even continues to modern canon: qi rong really tries to get love and attention, and when that doesn’t work, he just escalates to “any attention, bad attention, attention that proves I’m worth something, proves wrong all the people saying the supposedly-amazing cousin that took away my only source of kindness when he started hating me, is so much better than me”. he starts out an awkward, off-putting kid and ends up the night-touring green lantern. of course he holds enough resentment to end up a calamity. his cannibalism shtick doesn’t even read as genuine to me, it just seems like he picked out “what’s the worst, most attention-grabbing thing I can possibly be to pre-emptively justify everyone’s disgust in me” and landed on that.

(see also: I think it’s hysterical that he has very strong opinions and abilities as pertains to gourmet cooking, and then just uses them to lure in victims so that he can have his meal of Raw Unseasoned Human Flesh. you can’t tell me he’s doing it for anything other than the bit at this point.)

and that’s also why I think his weirdly wholesome relationship with guzi also makes a lot of sense. qi rong is a shockingly decent father to him (eventually), probably in part because he overidentifies with guzi also being abused by his father, but also, because guzi is literally just a kid and therefore is not someone that yet has the capacity to have all these preconceptions about qi rong, nor for qi rong to read into his words and be insulted, because. that's just a kid. there’s nothing to read into.

I think his treatment of guzi (eventually) shows that he's capable of being at least kind of decent (or at least functional), he's just never been in a circumstance where his trauma and relationships let it happen. his material life was always supplied for, but his emotional and familial environment in xianle was invariably toxic for him.

anyway, I think qi rong needs a shower and a hug, in that order, and then to be forced to learn to interact with people who don't immediately assume the worst of him. thanks for coming to my TED talk, I know it was long as hell.

[theobjectofmyobsession055]

Boothill x SingleParent!Reader: Lassos and Lullabies Chpt. 8

Heyyyy y'all! Hope you have fun with this extra long chapter! I didn't initially intend for it to be this long, but I was on a roll and I just went with it lol. This might be my favorite chapter I've written thus far!

I probably could have gotten this out sooner, but there's been an actual fuckton of chaos going on in my personal life these past few weeks, including my brother and I losing access to our previous living situation (everything's okay now, but it was really scary for a second there). To be completely honest, this fic has been one of the only things keeping me emotionally afloat throughout all this. It's been hard for me to find joy lately, but writing this fic brings me so much of it.

Anyways, enough about me. Hope y'all enjoy the chapter!

Previous part

Boothill paced back and forth, wearing a hole into the cheap carpet of his motel room. What was he thinking, asking Y/N on a date??? This was a horrible idea! He hadn’t been on a date in years, even before he became a cyborg! Did he even remember what to do on a date? What kinds of things he should do, what he should say, what he should expect? Honest answer? No. He didn’t even have a clue. But he was supposed to go meet her in less than an hour, so he’d better figure it out real quick.

Fuck, did he even have any clothes that would be date-appropriate??? He didn’t really bother much with fashion—so long as he was comfortable and wasn’t so covered up that his systems started overheating, he usually just called it a day. He didn’t want her to think he didn’t care, or that he wasn’t taking their date seriously! Oh, but he also didn’t want to put too much extra effort into his appearance, make her think he was trying too hard. He needed to seem cool, suave, charming—but not so much so that he came across as a douchebag or something.

He ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “Uuuuuugh, why’s all this shit gotta be so complicated!” he exclaimed, flopping down onto the bed. Fuck, his head was pounding, probably remnants of his concussion mixed with stress. He began to massage his temples.

Maybe he could just tell her he couldn’t make it, say that an urgent job came up or something. It’d definitely be a hell of a lot easier than going through all this anxiety and stress. He did have a pretty unpredictable schedule, she’d almost certainly believe him without question.

He sighed heavily. No, no, he wouldn’t do that. He wasn’t that kind of man—it’d be far too pathetic of him to chicken out last minute. And Y/N didn’t deserve that. Knowing her, she probably hadn’t been on a date in years either, which was a damn shame. She deserved to have a good time, even if it was with a hunk of scrap metal like him. He’d given her his word, and he was going to keep it.

Even if he did have a giant knot in his stomach the entire time.

In the end, he just ended up wearing his regular clothes, though he did attempt to comb through his hair a bit more than usual. There was a little festival happening in town—some sort of art market or something—and it seemed like the perfect place for their date (Aeons, even just thinking that word made him feel all sorts of things). Casual, laid-back, low expectations. Plus, he figured all that artsy-fartsy stuff would be something she might enjoy, she seemed like that sort of type.

When he arrived at the market, he moseyed on over to the pavilion they agreed to meet at, trying very hard to appear as though he hadn’t planned out his route beforehand for him to get there at exactly eleven a.m. sharp. But when he got there, he was surprised to see Y/N had beat him to it, sitting on a stone bench and fidgeting with her hands in her lap. She was wearing this pretty yellow sundress that made his mouth feel a little drier than he’d care for it to be. He swallowed down the lump in his throat. ‘Okay, showtime.’

He approached her, raising his hand in a wave. “Hey there, doll. Hope I didn’t keep ya waitin’ long.”

She jumped a bit, her head snapping up at the sound of his voice. She had a shy little smile on her lips and a pretty flush on her cheeks—'Cute.’ “Oh, Boothill!” She stood up and dusted off her dress. “It’s okay, I just got here a little early, is all.” She laced her hands together behind her back as she looked him up and down. Her stare made him feel uncharacteristically self-conscious. “…You look nice,” she added. “I like what you did with your hair.”

He fought the urge to run his hand through it. “Thanks. You, uh… you too.” He cleared his throat. Aeons, he hated how nervous he felt. “I mean, uh, you look real nice today too. Better than nice, purdy as a peach. Ya didn’t haveta go an’ get all dolled up just fer me.”

She chuckled good-naturedly. “Well, I wanted to. God knows it’s been ages since I’ve been on a proper date. I thought I oughta make the occasion special.”

“Aw shucks, sugar, yer already makin’ it special just by bein’ here.” The words slipped out of his mouth before he could think about them, but he found he didn’t regret it, not with the way Y/N seemed to softly glow under the compliment. He offered her his arm gallantly. “Whaddaya say we get this show on the road? I hear there’s lotsa nifty stuff to look at, an’ we can get ourselves some grub over at one a them food stalls once we start getting’ hungry.”

She hesitated for just a moment, but then she took his arm with that sweet little smirk playing at her lips. He hoped the cold metal didn’t bother her too much—especially since the gentle warmth of her hand in the crook of his elbow felt so nice for him. “Sounds good” she said.

As they began to stroll through the market, Boothill noticed a slight bounce in Y/N’s step, her initial nervousness giving way to excitement as they browsed all the wares. He found himself beginning to relax some too, her enthusiasm infectious. If nothing else, he at least got to see her happy today, and that was more than enough for him to call it a success.

As they perused a stand of homemade plushies, Y/N laughed softly. “You know, it’s kind of weird not having Lottie here. I’d never really thought about it before, but we’ve never done something with just the two of us before, have we?”

Boothill shook his head, watching her comb through the plushies with a fond smile on his lips. “Nah, I reckon we haven’t. S’why I thought it was ‘bout time we did.”

She looked away from the display for a moment to give him a damn-near radiant grin that almost made his mechanical heart feel like it was about to pop out of his chest. “I couldn’t agree more.” She turned back to the wares with a fondly exasperated sigh. “I just hope she’s being good for my brother today. You know firsthand how much of a handful she can be when she sets her mind to it.”

He chuckled. “Don’t I know it. But I’m sure ya don’t gotta worry too much. She’s a real good kid, I’m sure she’s bein’ a perfect angel.”

“You sure we’re talking about the same kid here?’ she quipped with a playful smirk. “But in all seriousness, you’re probably right. She doesn’t usually cause too much trouble. Though who knows?” She shrugged. “Maybe she’s acting out because she has to spend the day with her uncle instead of her favorite babysitter. She was pretty bummed that she couldn’t come along.”

Why, if that didn’t just melt his heart. “Well shoot, I s’pose I’ll haveta find a way to make it up to her somehow.” Among the rows of stuffed animals, he spotted a chocolate brown horse toy. He picked it up and turned it over in his hands, admiring the softness of it. “Ya think she’d accept this as an apology? Y’know how much she loves ponies.”

Y/N looked at him with an unreadable expression for a moment, but it was gone just as quickly as it appeared, replaced by a grin. “I think that might suffice.”

He briefly wondered what that look she had given him had been about, but he chose not to think too hard about it. The woman running the stall had her back turned to them as she restocked some product, so he called out to get her attention. “S’cuse me, ma’am. I’d like to buy this, if you’ve got a minute.”

“Oh yes of course! That’ll be—” The woman turned around, but her voice fizzled out once her eyes landed on Boothill. She fumbled with the stack of price tags she was holding, nearly dropping them all over the ground, and her face went a little pale.

“Ma’am? Everythin’ alright?” he asked when she didn’t finish her sentence. What was her deal? Did he have something—

Oh.

It clicked in his mind. He’d been so wrapped up in the amazing time he’d been having with Y/N that… that he almost forgot. It shouldn’t still come as a shock to him how people reacted when they saw all the metal and machinery that made up the majority of his body, and it didn’t, usually. Y/N just treated him so… normally, it slipped his mind for a second, was all. But the look on the shopkeeper’s face served as a sharp reminder.

The woman recovered relatively quickly, to her credit. “S-sorry. That’ll be…”

He didn’t even really register how much she said the toy cost, his body just pulling the credits out of his wallet on autopilot. It made sense for her to be afraid of him—hell, that was exactly why he gave up his human body in the first place, in part, so people would be afraid of him. He knew he didn’t exactly look approachable, all sharp teeth and glinting metal edges. It had never been something that bothered him before, but now… well, all he could say was it left his chest feeling more hollow than usual for some reason.

A subtle warmth against his palm pulled him out of his reverie. As he and Y/N continued through the market, he suddenly realized she had grabbed his hand. Her fingers curled against his own, her thumb gently running over the gaps between the mechanical joints of his knuckles. Heat creeped up the back of his neck, climbing its way up to his ears. Holy shit she was holding his hand. He felt a little pathetic getting so worked up over something so small, but the way her touch felt almost… tender sent his internal fans into overdrive. The warmth that now filled his chest far outweighed and embarrassment he might have felt from his reaction.

Y/N looked back at him with a gentle, comforting smile. “C’mon, why don’t we go get some food? That coney dog stand over there looks really good, want to try it?”

He almost didn’t register what she’d said, still reeling from the sudden influx of emotions that accompanied the realization that they were now holding hands in the park for all to see. He nodded, only half-aware of what he was agreeing to. But it didn’t matter to him too much, he’d go along with just about anything she wanted. “Sounds like a plan, sugar.”

They got their food and sat down at a nearby picnic table. He swore, before he met Y/N, hadn’t eaten this much in years. He didn’t necessarily need to, so it became one of the many comforts that had gone by the wayside once he set out on his path of revenge. But Y/N was insistent on feeding him every time he saw her, and Charlotte got this kicked puppy look on her face if he ever refused. He had to admit, it did make him feel just a little more human. Just a little bit, though.

They chatted while they ate, the air between them surprisingly comfortable. There was a brief lull in the conversation, and Y/N began to twirl her straw around in her soft drink, staring down at it intently. Just as soon as her silence became worrying, she murmured, “…You know, I almost didn’t show up today. Had a whole text typed out explaining that I’d come down with something and wouldn’t be able to make it.” She laughed quietly, shaking her head. In any other circumstance he might have felt offended, were it not for the fact that he’d been contemplating the exact same thing before he’d left. Her gaze flickered back up to meet his, her eyes dewy and warm, like a sunrise after freshly fallen rain. “I’m glad I did, though. This has been… nice. More than nice, actually, it’s been…” Her face scrunched up for a second as she searched for words. She sighed. “…I know it’s probably nothing to you, but… this has meant a lot to me.”

“It ain’t nothin’ to me,” he said, softer than he’d expected to. He glanced down at her free hand lying on the table. Before he could think better of it, he reached out and tentatively took it in his, letting his fingers curl around hers once again. “I think I know what yer assumin’, but the truth might not be what you’d expect.” She gave him a curious look, so he continued, slightly sheepish, “I’ve, uh… not exactly been goin’ out much lately neither. I’m just as rusty as you are, I’d reckon.” He gave her hand a squeeze, and his lips twitched up in a little smile. “But for the record, I’m glad ya decided to come too.”

She squeezed his hand back, and he could’ve sworn he felt his fans whir a little faster just from that simple act alone.

There wasn’t much time left before the sun started to set and the market closed up, but they continued to take their time browsing the booths. Y/N still hadn’t let go of his hand, but then again, he hadn’t let go of hers either. Not that he minded, far from it. It just surprised him a little that she seemed so perfectly comfortable hanging onto it when it was made entirely out of cold metal.

As they neared the end of the street hosting the art market, a flash of yellow caught his eye. He turned his head to find it came from a bucket of sunflowers propped up on a cart advertising fresh flowers. There were a whole bunch of different kinds too, lilies and daisies and roses and all that jazz, along with dozens of others he didn’t know the names of. He gently tugged on Y/N’s hand, guiding her towards the cart even as heat began to creep up the back of his neck. “Lookee here, ain’t these real purdy?”

A soft smile spread across her lips as she followed him over to the flower cart. “Oh you’re right, these’re beautiful!” Using her free hand, she traced a gentle finger over the petals of a peony. “Such pretty colors…”

That look on her face nearly made his breath catch. Should he, would that be too much…? Oh, what was he thinking, he couldn’t not. He released her hand for just a moment as he sneaked over to the florist, handing him a stack of cash while Y/N was distracted. With a knowing glint in his eyes, the florist immediately began collecting various flowers before wrapping them all up in a bouquet and handing them back to Boothill. He shot him a wink that only served to make Boothill’s face feel even hotter, but he whispered a quick, “Thank you,” regardless. A little smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he admired the finished bouquet. He was hoping there’d be those sunflowers in it, they just fit her too perfectly.

To his own chagrin, Boothill felt a little nervous as he cleared his throat to get her attention. She turned to him curiously, but her eyes immediately widened and a quiet gasp fell out of her mouth as she laid eyes on the bouquet he held out towards her. “…Fer you,” he said, tugging down the brim of his hat with his free hand to partially shield his eyes from her gaze. “S’not much but, I, uh… thought ya might like ‘em.”

She blinked, her gaze flickering between him and the bouquet. Aeons, that stare of hers could really make a man squirm. “Boothill, you… You didn’t have to do that.” But even as she said that, she gently took the bouquet from him, turning it around in her hands to look at it from different angles.

He gave her a toothy grin despite how flustered he felt. “Good thing I wanted to, then,” he replied, mimicking her statement from earlier. He rubbed the back of his neck, as if willing the heat there to go away. “…You deserve something’ nice. Least I could do.”

Her lips drew into a tight line, and for a moment he thought he saw the beginning of tears shining in her eyes. She blinked rapidly and took a deep breath. “Well then, in that case… thank you. That’s very sweet of you.”

Lord have mercy, just a couple flowers and she was already getting teary-eyed? How badly had her ex treated her? It made him a little sad almost, that the bear minimum had her so happy. But only a little bit, seeing as he was also riding off the high of being the one to make her so happy.

Shortly after that, the sun began to set and the vendors started to tear down their booths. After only a minor amount of fussing, Y/N agreed to let Boothill walk her home. Somewhere between the flower cart and the market’s exit, their hands found themselves intertwined again.

Once they were only about a block away from Y/N’s apartment, an excited gasp from her stopped Boothill in his tracks. Before he could ask what was up, she tugged him over to a lamppost that was practically covered in posters and stickers. “Oh my god, Raven Death Scream?!?! I haven’t seen them in years!”

Boothill raised an eyebrow, looking over her shoulder at the poster. In letters so elaborate they were barely legible, it advertised what he assumed to be the aforementioned band, Raven Death Scream. Under the band name, the rest of the text was easier to read, stating that they had a show coming up in about a month. He side-eyed Y/N, confused yet intrigued. “You like that kinda stuff? Never woulda pegged you as much of a thrasher.”

She turned back to him with the widest, brightest grin on her face he’d ever seen from her. “Heck yeah! I used to be a total metalhead back in college and high school, I even had my own band! God, this brings back memories.” She looked back down at the poster, her eyes filled with nostalgia. She sighed wistfully. “Those were the days. I had so much fun at those concerts. One time, my friend and I tried sneaking backstage at one of their shows so she could flirt with the bassist, and I ended up getting shoved up against a speaker so hard I almost broke my nose! She never did end up getting her number though…” Despite how unpleasant that sounded, that grin remained on her face. Then, a light pink flush bloomed across her cheeks, and she chuckled sheepishly. “’Course, that was before I became a mom and all! Had to settle down a bit after Lottie came around, I couldn’t very well be running off to shows with a baby at home, you know? But damn, those were some good times.” She shook her head, smiling down at the poster for another few seconds before they started heading back to her apartment again.

Boothill’s mind was reeling. Y/N, a metalhead??? He wouldn’t have believed it had it not come directly from her mouth, and even then he wasn’t fully convinced she wasn’t pulling his leg. He could scarcely even imagine it, it was so antithetical to the image of her he had built in his head. But at the same time, the information made him feel almost greedy, like he’d been given only a sip of the finest aged whiskey he’d ever tasted, but nothing more. What else did he not know about her? Probably a lot, he realized, considering they hadn’t spent all that much time alone together before today. But instead of feeling disgruntled like he might have, that realization excited him. He wasn’t known for being a very patient man, but for Y/N, the thought of slowly getting to know her better bit by bit wasn’t frustrating, it was thrilling.

In the back of his mind, he wondered if maybe she might feel that way about him, too.

He helped her up the stairs leading to her apartment once they arrived, letting her hold onto his arm. All too soon, they found themselves on the landing, right outside her door. Boothill’s heart sank a bit. He didn’t want it to be over just yet, but they both had responsibilities to attend to in the morning. Y/N let go of his arm and turned to look up at him with a slightly shy smile on her lips. “Thank you for today. It was… the most fun I’ve had in a while, honestly.” She let out a little laugh.

“No worries, sugar. I had a real good time too.”

Silence fell between them. They just stood there for a moment, staring at each other. Y/N fumbled with the large bouquet still in her hands, almost like she was hiding behind it. A few petals brushed against Boothill’s arm as she shifted it from one hand to another. Since when was he standing so close to her? But now he was keenly aware of the lack of distance between them. It made his circuits thrum, the excess electricity that coursed through them almost audible.

As he took in the sight of her pretty flushed cheeks, he noticed a stray petal had gotten stuck in her hair. “Wait a sec, doll, ya got somethin’ right… there.” He instinctively reached to pluck it out before he could think about it. But once his brain caught up to his body, his systems screeched to a halt.

Oh. Oh. Her hair was really soft, softer than he had imagined (not that he’d imagined it before). His hand remained long after the petal had fallen away, and he couldn’t resist the urge to tuck a lock behind her ear. His fingers just barely brushed against the curve of her cheekbone at the motion.

Her eyes widened slightly at first, but then they grew soft, following the path of his hand. “Oh…” she murmured breathlessly. “Thanks.”

“No worries...” he replied, his voice suddenly much lower and huskier than he’d anticipated.

His internal fans spun fast as he followed her lidded gaze, noticing how it flickered from his eyes down to his lips. The next thing he knew, her eyes were closing, his free hand was landing on her waist, they both were leaning in, and then…

A muffled crash sounded from behind the door, followed by a non-explicit curse. They both jumped back, suddenly a respectable distance away from each other. Previously just a light pink, Y/N’s face was now scarlet. She looked away, a high, nervous laugh leaving her lips. “I-I should, uh… probably go check on that. Sounds like my brother is ready to head home, haha…”

Boothill cleared his throat, suddenly finding the ground riveting. Damn, his face was hot. “Y-yeah, that’d, uh… probably be a good idea…”

Neither of them made any move to leave.

Boothill coughed awkwardly into his fist, attempting to dislodge the lump that had suddenly formed in his throat. “You, uh… you take care now. Tell Lottie hi for me. I’ll… see ya around.”

Y/N’s lips drew up into a tight smile. If he examined it closely, he almost thought he could make out a twinge of disappointment in her voice. “You too. I, um… I’ll text you, okay?”

He wished he could deny the way his stomach flipped. He still couldn’t find it in him to meet her eyes, too busy tugging the brim of his hat over his face. “Sounds like a plan.” His voice lowered ever-so slightly, something just a bit more exposed peeking through as he added, “…Goodnight, Y/N.”

Her smile softened, becoming more genuine. “Goodnight, Boothill.”

And with that, she turned around and disappeared inside her apartment. He let out a long, long sigh and ran his hand through his hair. What the hell had that been? Or, well, what had that almost been?

But even as he warred with himself internally on his way back to his motel, he couldn’t fight the soft warmth that seemed to glow from within his chest, lighting up the street for him even as the sun dipped well below the horizon.