#*goes to AO3 to make sure I didn't just accidentally insult someone*

[iamamythologicalcreature]

I'm-Not-Going-To-Count-These-Sentences Sunday

Thank you @aroace-genderfluid-sheep and @hushed-chorus for the tags! (Guess what hushed-chorus I did that thing we talked about.) Also thank you to everyone who has tagged me on other WIP-days! I really appreciate it <3

So... I'm not counting sentences this time. I write long sentences, and I make rabid use of sentence-extending punctuation. And I have this thing about posting excerpts that are semi-contained in some way. Plus it's going to take me forever to get this fic posted, so I gotta give ya'll something. THUSLY: Here have a bunch of words.

(I really should have pinned my bi-weekly updates on Wednesday, but OH WELL.)

Context: Baz POV, with Agatha in the chapel after midnight, being 17 year olds. Simon is out of the picture after Baz kinda sorta stole his voice with a tape recorder in fifth year.

“I never thanked you for saving me,” she said, with just a little too much effort at nonchalance. “You did, actually,” I said, not slowing, or sparing her so much as a glance. “You might recall how you resembled a hypothermic beached mermaid? You were quite free with your gratitude once you caught your breath. It was all very melodramatic.” There was a brief pause - possibly an attempt to work out whether my description of her was complimentary or not. Either way, it didn’t deter her. “I never got to thank you the way I wanted to,” she said, a hint of a whine working its way past her shoddily built facade. I didn’t answer right away as I fought down a sudden surge of irritation, one that threatened to trigger my more destructive tendencies - self-destructive, perhaps, but not exclusively so. The only thing worse than being considered a villain was being cast as a tragic hero - someone only misunderstood, just waiting to be saved. “Basil—“ she began, apparently ready to try something else. I stopped short, forcing her to halt both her forward movement and that regrettable demonstration of poor judgment. We were at the entrance to the chapel, now, and it was easy to crowd her against the cold statuary. “How exactly did you want to thank me, then, Wellbelove?”

Later it's entirely likely these two are going to put special effort into trying to forget any of this ever happened, because teenage mistakes are brilliant like that. You're welcome, Bazatha.

Also, super stoked to be working on a couple @caught-on-tape-fest podfics as well as cowriting with @ileadacharmedlife for the @carryon-reverse-bang. Wheeeee I can totally do this all! >.>

Tags/Hellos under the cut! (BTW regarding tags - I'm often unable to browse tumblr, so if you've posted something creative Sunday/Wednesday/for the hell of it, please feel free to tag me so I see it!)

Thanks for the tags over the past couple weeks @aristocratic-otter, @whatevertheweather, @brilla-brilla-estrellita, @ileadacharmedlife, @prettygoododds, @cutestkilla, @you-remind-me-of-the-babe, @tender-ministrations, @ic3-que3n, @artsyunderstudy, @youarenevertooold, @ivelovedhimthroughworse - I love love love seeing what everyone is up to! (Sorry if I missed anyone - apparently tags don't always work? Sigh.)

Tags and hellos also to @fatalfangirl, @katmiscellanious, @shrekgogurt, @rimeswithpurple, @alleycat0306, @ebbpettier, @supercutedinosaurs, @nightimedreamersworld, @thewholelemon, @theearlgreymage, @bubble-gumhead, @raenestee, @jasonfunderberkerthefrogexists (thanks for the extra notes XD), @ionlydrinkhotwater, @erzbethluna... And anyone else who wants tags, please let me know! Or just tag me! I love them.

#agatha will figure herself out eventually but it will not be This Day #ditto baz because he's just in a lovely out of control tailspin right now #WHERE IS SIMON? #maybe I know #I hope so anyway #I really need to title this fic #but I have a whole hat full of titles #a playlist full of them! #I could just call it ANGST #Or maybe ANGST ANGST BABY #No #I will absolutely not title it that #even I have standards #wait #*goes to AO3 to make sure I didn't just accidentally insult someone* #I think I'm okay #six sentences sunday #six sentence sunday #(which one is the right one?) #snowbaz #baz pitch #agatha wellbelove #simon snow series #the simon snow trilogy #simon snow fanfic #only sans Snow so far #what is it with me and tags? I mean really. #and all anyone really wants to know is when or why was Agatha a hypothermic beached mermaid? #jodofic

[bsaka7]

hi! a while back I wrote my first smutty pierresteban fic on ao3 and you wrote the nicest, most thorough review I’ve ever read in my life and it honestly made my entire month 💕 so thank you!!

not sure if you’ve spoken about this before but I wanted to ask - what goes through your mind when you write reviews / read fic? how are you able to just capture the essence of what spoke to you and at the same time convey such appreciation to the writer? it’s truly an art. as a writer yourself, what kind of reviews make you the happiest / most satisfied?

omg!!! I'm so honored that my comment made such an impact - I'm sure what you wrote was absolutely lovely!! It's really nice to know that my comments have an impact for you as well as for me bc I do rlly enjoy writing them. This is also such a nice question - I don't think I've been asked it before - and I definitely have thoughts hahaha!! Many thoughts. Many more than are even below the cut perhaps...

What goes through my mind when I write a comment?

I guess it's a couple of different things. For me, the fic I like best catches on something - a theme, a twist on a relationship - that I don't find elsewhere. I really like fic that makes me think about something differently. I think part of this is how I like to engage with texts generally - I read a lot but like, you can't tell the author of a novel what you thought so easily. So those thoughts I have generally get harnessed into comments bc I know someone will read them.

Within that, I'm like... I guess I try to be a critical thinker and consider things deeper than surface level and that of course applies to fic. So I try to pull out a couple of ways I think the author did things differently than maybe I would expect - a plot twist, or a characterization choice, or a thematic engagement. Idk i want people to know that I take their writing just as seriously as anything else I read. A big worry when I'm commenting is being accidentally mean - I've been called condescending a lot in my life hahaha - so that is also always on my mind as well.

I don't really think about my comment til I get to the end of a fic where I usually ask myself what was the most memorable and then I give it a little bit of time to percolate and then write the comment... Idk. Some of this is probably also affected by both like... how being a history major trained me to think about reading and also bc - I'm fairly picky about what I read (I don't read that much fic and I honestly am not a great commenter overall - I do have to really like it/want more of it/find something of interest in it), I read a lot, and I'm very confident in what I like.

How do I capture what spoke to me and convey my appreciation to the writer?

Okay to be honest I worry about this a lot... Like is it too much of what I thought?? Am I getting away from the meaning of the text? I feel like also I am kind of a hater generally but I 1) never want to make anyone feel bad about their writing and 2) especially don't want to do so accidentally.

So for me, when I'm writing a comment, I try to chunk it out into the different ideas that I liked (for example: main ship dynamic, external friendships, and fate), and jot my thoughts down for them. I try to focus on those ideas over like idk writing technique. Once I get down all my vague thoughts, I'll go back and flesh them out into sentences and include something specific about each of those points. For at least one point, I try to include a line I particularly liked. Then I go back through again and try make sure I didn't say anything accidentally insulting (I generally do also have critiques when I read but I try and lean as heavily into the positive as I can and make sure I only ever tell someone that if they ask me). For shorter fics, I'll do maybe only one or two ideas, but for longer ones my comments can get... Long. I'm not sure if that totally answers your question but that's the like... balance I try to strike?

As to what kind of reviews make me the happiest/most satisfied...

I was actually talking to one of my very good friends about this the other day. Unsurprisingly, the comments I like to get are similar to those I try to write. My favorite comments are the ones that go deeper - what themes did you like and did you see, how do you see the characters thinking about their lives. I really enjoy when people make external connections whether that to be of other books/articles or music (but this can be hit or miss based on if we have similar taste lol) or pieces of art, especially bc its often stuff that idk about!! For me, I try with most of my fic to weigh in on some larger theme or question and I really like when ppl engage with that because they're always going to bring in new thoughts and ideas that I can't come up with on my own!!! My friend says that I like debate (I love debate) hahaha so I do like stuff that pushes me about the text can be understood.

That being said like. I also really appreciate when people tell me lines they like, or even just a single line that they enjoyed the fic. I don't want to sound like I'm complaining about engagement bc I'm not!!! I just love when people are willing to go deeper. I do also think like I'm a person whose very willing to have a conversation in the comments which like... Idk not congrous with current ao3 culture hahaha.

I also really appreciate when people say my fic is like.... very understandable but still has a lot to say because that makes me very proud (especially because I don't consider myself a very strong writer... I consider myself middling in both quality and popularity). I also really appreciate stuff from my friends bc like... They know me, yknow? But anyway, I really do appreciate all comments but that's a bit of what makes a comment special!!

Anyway... That's the gist!!! Thank you for the questions and I'm sorry if I accidentally said something cruel in all my rambling. I would say this is fairly accurate to how I read and comment and I hope it's interesting at the very least!!! Please feel free to weigh in with your thoughts/comment strategy etc as well!!!!

#Ask game #Omg i wrote so much and spent so long on it hahaha #Anyone who reads... Cheers for REAL!!!! #I also like hardcore fall back on the same phrases in comments which sometimes I feel bad about idk #With like my friends who I workshop fic with for real.... We can get rlly nitty gritty hahaha #So idk... I guess the gist is. Ideas I like. Phrases I like. Be nice about it!! #Idk if I've ever actually been mean in a comment but boy do I worry lol #Ok i gotta go for a run for real now... Rocky here I come #I've also gotten crazier about writing comments in like the last 8mo #Bc i have. Time #Lbr the catchphrase here is i like critical engagement in both sides lol #But that feels like a whack word to use when talking about fic #Like I'll just as happily talk about ur fic like this as like idk. A long form journalism article.. Or a novel. #It's all writing it all has different purposes and angles. I like it all

[thunderheadfred]

🤚The Second Worst (Pt. 1/?)🤚

Part 2 of my Shigaraki Thesis Headcanons. HC's // The Second Worst: 1 - 2

The half-mad ghost of Shimura Tenko is in love with you, and your life is about to become a tragic wreck. -- AKA here's when I gave up on bullet points and went off the fuckin rails

I'm self-conscious about writing so much, so uhhhh, please be kind, hahaaa. This is rather long and involved. Are these still even HCs or just a self-indulgent AU outline? There are some mysteries we may never solve.

This is on AO3 now, if you prefer reading there. Anyway. Minors do not interact.

- - - - -

You met Tenko before the League existed.

Believe it or not, there are a million ways it might have happened, but in the end: you were both bargain-binning in Akihabara.

You reached for a copy of a collectible bullet-hell cute-'em-up (near-mint! CIB!!!) and accidentally bonked hands with a complete stranger. He flinched about five million feet away from you. Ouch. You're just a nobody, quirkless and average, but you didn't think you were THAT repulsive.

(You're not. Hell, even if you were, this guy couldn't care less. He barely registers that you have a face.)

(Shigaraki is accustomed to getting in and out of this shop in seconds. He always comes in before anyone else and goes straight home. -- Is that really home? Is 'home' a real place? -- ANYWAY he's already pirated this shit, god, why does he even care? He doesn't need to be here. Father doesn't like it. Is that why he's here? Just to do something Father doesn't like? That's pathetic.)

He's had at least ten complete internal arguments with himself before he so much as looks at you.

You know in the tenth of a second he actually meets your eyes... this fucker is going to fight you to the death over this game.

- - - The death match ends in a draw. He was not expecting you to know the first fucking thing about this game. Nobody knows about it, even in Japan. Who the fuck do you even think you are? Oh, no, he's still taking it. But... maybe he can show you how to play it it. He'll give you a little taste, just to make you jealous. He's got his hoodie pulled down like he's going to commit an act of terrorism. What little you can see of his face looks twitchy and messed up. If you have any survival instincts at all, they're kicking in right about now. But... why not. You're not going anywhere with this dude unsupervised, so you suggest a crowded web cafe down the street. The cafe has the necessary console... but the retro gaming booth is laughably small. The TV is about four inches across and you end up having to practically sit in his lap. You were sure this guy was a nasty fucking creep, but he's................ only mostly terrible. Way too angry, for sure. Has no idea how to have a normal, friendly conversation. Inadvertently insults you every other sentence and seems to have a deep-seated persecution complex.

You'd prefer to be mad about the awful company, but... he's obviously deprived of human contact. When it's established that you two share a lot of media fixations, he calms down and starts treating you a little more like a human being. Or at least like a fellow elite.

Wherever he came from, he doesn't seem to want to go back. He keeps pushing you to play one more level, pretending he wants to beat your score. You feel kinda bad for him. You get the distinct feeling that his life is a disaster. He looks like he's never had a full night of sleep in his life. He trips your trigger hairs in that 'is he gonna follow me home?' kind of way, but... up close, he's a lot more depressing than scary. At the very least, you want to buy him a stupidly cute dessert. Just... as thanks. For letting you try out the game and stuff. It's not a big deal, so just pick a flavor, okay? The world isn't actually that awful, y'know.

It's not even that impressive... Definitely not a great cafe. But he takes practically a full hour to eat a single slice of strawberry cake.

When the hoodie comes down. He's all shriveled and dried out, like someone left him him in the desert to die. He chews on his peeling bottom lip and nervously scratches his neck. He doesn't thank you for the cake. Which is fine. It's not a big deal. Actually, you wish he would eat faster; you feel weirdly responsible for him now.

Under all that mess he's... gorgeous? His hair is stunning: a bright, gleaming silver that catches the light. His bone structure is flawless. If it weren't for all the scars and the misanthropic slouch, he'd look like a fairy fucking prince.

You were not prepared for that. In another life he could have been a model, the type of guy who would never even look at you. But something bad happened to him. Something... very bad. Do you even want to know? You have no idea how to ask. Has anyone ever been nice to him? It doesn't seem like it. Should YOU be nice to him? You sort of want to try. - - - This becomes a regular thing. This weird little secret. You should probably tell someone when you see him, just in case you don't come back one day, but you say nothing; how the hell would you explain why you want to see him so bad? You don't know his full name. Maybe he's on a watch list. When he gives you a long string of random numbers so you can schedule meet-ups (is THAT his e-mail, really?) he tells you to just... call him Tenko. Or whatever. It doesn't matter. (He sneaks out when Father is deep in his plots. As long as he comes home on time, it doesn't really matter where he goes, right?) He brings a different game every time. He has an insane collection. Where does he get the money for all this? You know he doesn't work. God, is it drugs? It's probably drugs. Wherever these hidden gems came from, he proudly shows them off to you, like he's never had an audience before. It's sort of cringe-inducing, the way he one-ups and rubs every little victory in your face, desperate for attention.

But at the same time, you are becoming too... something...to mind. Do you... like him? He's not funny, but he thinks you are. His mouth is huge when he laughs. He seems to hate everyone but you, and you've had to earn the distinction of being merely tolerable. Still, he gets really excited about random shit like the garage kit black market and haunted dolls and the price of weed on the dark web.

And... strawberry cake. The realization hits you both at the same time when the waitress brings one piece with two forks. God, what the fuck, are you... are you dating? Quick, think. You look forward to seeing him, and don't even mind sitting close to him anymore. Sometimes you push your leg up against him just to see if he'll still flinch away... and he doesn't.

You jealously notice the way he touches everything but you: with delicate precision, one finger at a time. His large, elegant hands always have a pinky up like he's aspiring for a fiefdom, and you wonder what his skin feels like. You go home and dwell on the way he plucks flowering weeds out of the pavement in front of the cafe. The way he stands rooted to the spot as you leave, just... looking at nothing, unsmiling.

You watch his lips too much, and not just because you want to buy him chapstick. You catch him gaping at you all the time. You thought he was just creepy like that, but maybe... Yeah. I guess you are dating him. Shit. - - - Okay, so, yeah. Bringing him back to your place was definitely a bad idea. You know you shouldn't trust him, even if he is... apparently... your boyfriend? Sort of? You still don't have his phone number. So. Um. What now? You order overpriced pizza and queue up a campy horror movie. What the fuck are you even doing. You don't really think he's going to murder you anymore, but... still. Is the suburban massacre scene gonna give him ideas? Turns out, no. He doesn't like gore, even when the blood is neon pink. He gets upset. Like, really upset. Shaky and green, like he might puke on you. He can't stop scratching that scaly spot on his neck.

Tenko, are you crying? Fucking hell, did you just trigger him? Of course he has a traumatic past, it's carved all over his face. You're so fucking stupid. You don't know how to make it right. You want to hug him, kiss him... anything. But he's never really touched you, and you're too afraid to push now. It ruins the whole night. He leaves without explaining anything. Doesn't even say goodbye. He just. Leaves. Maybe you'll never see him again. Maybe that's for the best. Your chest hurts. - - - He shows up at your door a few weeks later. You haven't heard from him since that disastrous movie night. You had pretty much accepted that you'd broken up with a boyfriend you never actually had. But no. Apparently not.

This time, he’s brought his own entertainment. He's holding a boxed set of some show you're not familiar with. You're distracted by these weird little half-gloves he's wearing, like a cyberpunk hacker. That's a new look, and even if it's a bit edgelord adjacent, he makes it look cool. You tell him as much. It's the first time you've let on how attractive you find him. He's wearing a tight black shirt with a deep, deep V-neck. That's distracting too.

He clears his slender throat and doesn't look at you.

You try to apologize for before, but he's acting like it never happened. What are you even talking about? Have you seen this OVA or not? Get out of the way and let him in already. You've watched three episodes now, but you still have no idea what this stupid anime is about. You can't pay attention to a single frame. All you can think about is how his arm has crept up behind your shoulders. A few inches more and he'll be holding you. Does he... want to hold you? You lean toward him so slowly your spine creaks. One molecule at a time. After a thousand years, your head slides nervously under his chin. His arm comes down, locking you in, fingers clutching your sleeve in a death grip. Even that snobby little pinky. His head tucks down into you hair. A sharp collarbone bites into your cheek. His heartbeat is hard, fast, and irregular. There's not a scrap of fat on him, and as you wrap your arm around his stomach, you think you see a twitch in his pants. Is that just you being desperate? Or... hopeful? This is really happening. --- Soon, you learn that Tenko is a clumsy kisser. It doesn't matter; the fact that he's kissing you at all is good enough for now. His lips are dry, but not half as dry as you expected. There's a slick of menthol helping things along; he's been using something medicated on his lips. Plus, his mouth tastes like he drank a gallon of mouthwash.

All this thrills you more than a little, because it means he came here wanting to impress you. Wanting you. Full stop. Underneath that minty sting is a strange, worrisome aftertaste, like something rotten. Your brain fires off an alarm. Stop kissing him. Right now. This thing will make you sick. But his hands nervously slide over your body... and you decide not to worry about it. Instead, you kiss him deeper. He makes a sweet, startled little noise. Your brain is a fucking liar. It occurs to you he's probably never done this before.

When you lace your fingers in his and try to pull one of his gloves off, he rips his hand away.

Don't. That’s the only explanation he gives.

No need to ask if it's a quirk thing or a trauma thing. Judging by how jittery he gets, it's probably both. You remember the way his hands almost float over objects without ever holding them. Maybe his touch is dangerous. Maybe that's why his face looks like that.

Maybe you should learn more about him before things go way too far...

No. It can't be that bad. Now that he's in your arms, everything frightening about him evaporates. He's vulnerable. He's alone. He's shaking a little. Has anyone else ever seen this side of him? You want to keep him all to yourself, just like this.

So what if he has to touch you with gloves on? You've heard of worse quirk-related inconveniences.

It's okay, Tenko. Do you want to keep going?

You put his hands back on you and wait for him to kiss you again. It doesn't take long.

---

You open his pants. He's long and thin, calloused even here. Every part of him feels untouched, unloved. You hold him tight and squeeze.

It doesn't seem to occur to him to please you in return. He looks afraid. Confused. You're sure you scared him earlier with the glove thing. Is this too much? No. He gasps and leans into you. The tiniest, broken please.

He cums in your hand right away, face buried in your shoulder, his eyes wet and hidden.

I have to go, he says. Over and over and over.

It's okay, Tenko.

You know he doesn't want to.

- - - - - (oops I wrote more)

#Shigaraki #Shigaraki Tomura #Shimura Tenko #Shigaraki x reader #Shigaraki x you #Shigaraki x y/n #gender neutral reader #shigaraki headcanons #mha #bnha #fred writes