#reminder that nobody is obligated to answer asks especially anons!

[sincerelybubbles]

You Don’t Actually Answer To Asks Y Lie

[IMAGE ID]: 3 screenshots all showing the tumblr ask inbox. the first has 3 asks on it, the first one sent (read at the bottom of the page) reads: “do you allow translations of your stories” the second one reads: “Do you allow translations of your work?” and the third reads: “y do you not answer asks”. The second screenshot shows one ask that reads: “hello?” with many o’s and question marks. The third screenshot shows a final ask reading: “y u ignore asks”. [IMAGE ID END]

um, good morning !

first and foremost: nobody online owes you shit, anon. like literally nobody, especially not someone who just posts bnha fanfiction at incredibly random increments. it’s just not how the world works.

i get that u asked a question and (im assuming) really really want to translate my writing, but i’m allowed to not answer literally anything in my inbox for whatever reason without getting spammed? like, i would understand maybe a reminder ask to make sure tumblr didn’t delete your ask, but, in general, this was excessive.

the internet is here for your convenience and entertainment , yes, but that doesn’t mean that *i* am here for your convenience and entertainment. i provide a free service (and honestly don’t even provide it regularly) because i want to, not because i’m obligated.

and, that goes for literally any request for fanfiction authors. “you wrote this ooc” or “you need to update this” or sending requests or telling the author how their fics should end — literally anything you could think of, people online who you are Not Paying Or Bartering Services From can just ignore you. that’s how it works.

moving past that (if i were somehow obligated to answer your ask immediately) i haven’t been online and answering asks and just ignoring yours to be mean or something. i haven’t actually been on the app for longer than maybe 2 mins at a time in over a month because … and i know this might be a foreign in concept for you and your view of people online … i have been busy!

i’m also not in the habit of checking my asks, to be completely truthful. it’s been over a year since i’ve gotten one, other than the literal two last month, if i’m remembering correctly, because 99% of my followers are lurkers (i love you all dearly and am exactly the same way) but i’m just. not in the habit of checking!!

to answer your question, though, no. i’m not comfortable with people translating my works because i feel like it opens the floodgates for people copying and pasting my works and posting them as their own without me able to check and regulate it. if i were to have works translated, i def wouldn’t feel comfortable with someone on anon asking to do it because i would want to know where and when they were posting the translations and i would probably talk to whoever wanted to translate extensively before letting them post anything (mainly to make sure they’re not just going to slap my fanfic into google translate tbh).

and, i’m going to be honest with you buddy, what you really should take out of this interaction is that you probably really need to get offline for a few hours. it’s not the end of the world if one blog doesn’t answer your ask within the week that you sent it. i didn’t see it, i wasn’t maliciously ignoring you, and (for anyone wondering or waiting for an ask to be answered) i always intend to get to asks eventually, im just not going to always answer super fast. and sometimes i won’t answer if it’s something i don’t want to answer or a request i don’t want to do or literally any other reason because I Don’t Have To.

(if there are any typos in this, i’m sorry, i just woke up for a little morning fanfic read after not being able to sleep and saw this … mess. now, i have a rlly nice anon to answer and imma do that :) this was in no way to discourage people sending me asks — this was to discourage people from spamming me because i didn’t answer on the timeline they’ve imposed on me)

#bubbs.asks #anon !

[seasononedean]

hey can we stop asking people of color to explain the situation over and over when theres multiple tags and a million posts going around

#5 minutes of searching. thats all you need #reminder that nobody is obligated to answer asks especially anons! #mickey.txt #princesshamlet #mgh

[tsuumu]

hii! i really like your blog so far, you’re writing is really good! this idea just popped up in my head so idk if it’ll actually make sense but i’ll try lmao. so could you write some headcanons of sugawara, tendou, and kuroo w/ a shy s/o who gets jealous of some girls that come up to them, and she tries to tell them that shes jealous, and how they would react to that? thank you so much, and i’m sorry if this doesn’t make sense lmaoo :)

kuroo, tendou and sugawara with a jealous s/o.

good evening anon! this req is written in a school setting with various s/o personalities. i really hope you like it. <3

(the kuroo section is CONSIDERABLY longer than the other two and i apologise for that!! D: )

• nekoma’s volleyball team had become quite popular after the nationals tournament, where they had fought tirelessly and with extreme talent for everybody to see. people knew of the members and especially of their handsome captain. kuroo was prideful of his position and liked to flaunt his team’s successes to those who were interested, unknowing that they were probably more interested in him.

• he’s been talked about a lot lately. your friends always want updates on your ‘volleyball prince’, to which you promptly swat them away. he’s not a famous person. he’s just a high-school boy. a really cute, out-going, intelligent high-school boy.

• kuroo spends his free time in classes with girls on, around and at his desk, happily answering all the questions they gave him.

• unfortunately, you’re not so pleased. since tetsu had chemistry exam prep, his class has moved just a few doors down from yours. usually you wouldn’t get to see him during class because the lab work was done on the other side of the school, however he cheerily mentioned the change to you this morning whilst you were walking together.

• it happens as you’re on your way to your next room, stopping abruptly at the thought of the walk and peering in to see what was going on. after a short few seconds of scanning, you catch sight your boyfriend’s signature, dark hair. he’s chattering away to his female classmates.

• you really can’t help but feel a slight pang in your chest.

• you’ve never been overly protective or possessive of kuroo, at least, there had never been circumstances that lead you to feeling that way. you just stand there momentarily, staring at the varying expressions of the girls. tetsu is so oblivious. they’re totally hitting on him. you can’t help but sigh out. yes. he’s the talk of the town right now but wouldn’t you stop to ask him if he’s even single? you’re not angry, just a little bitter that you couldn’t sit with him like that and let them know of your existence.

• one of the girls closest to kuroo punches his arm lightly and you focus your attention back on them. you can’t figure out what on earth the actual conversation is about but she keeps placing her hands on his arms when she’s laughing or speaking enthusiastically.

• you’re not a fan of that at all, it makes the jab at your ribs heavier. you decide, ‘fuck it’ and push on the door to open it. it’s entirely on impulse and the nervousness sets in when the classroom quitens and -give or take- twenty eyes are set onto you.

• the second kuroo turns his head, he stands up at once, that shit-eating grin you know and love dearly plastered all over this face. it’s like the conversation with anybody else ended the second he saw you.

“woah. i didn’t know the next teacher was gonna be the love of my life! no, but seriously, what have you done to him, babe?”

you push on his chest lightly and tell him to quit it, cheeks burning at how loud he is, before embracing him tightly and wrapping your arms around him. you feel much safer.

• yaku chucks a piece of balled paper at you two from another area of the classroom.

“hey, you two. i know we signed up for chemistry but not your chemistry!”

• kuroo just throws it back, before kissing you on the forehead. you mumble into the fabric of his button-up that you’re just on your way to your next lesson and you’ll probably be late now. you just wanted to see him and tell those girls you’re uninterested. he chuckles out, moving back slightly to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear.

“well i’m glad you did. this was the best surprise ever.”

• he leans closer, pressing his lips to your ear in a coy whisper.

“what girls? there’s girls? i thought they only made one in this entire world just for me. if it’s not another you, i’ll pass.” the corners of your mouth tug into a smile, burying your nose more into him.

“hey, kitty. as much as i’d like to keep you in here forever, like a cat that very obviously has another owner, i’ll just have to see you after class. i’ll be right outside your door. okay? now scram.”

• he flicks your forehead and walks with you to your next class. you grumble playfully. on your way, you meet eyes with the girls earlier. they’re shell-shocked, previously unbeknownst of your existence, you give them a small wave before holding his arm tightly and smiling to yourself.

• tendou is the life of the party wherever he goes. everybody seems to know him and it’s not always because of volleyball. he just seems to be friends with everyone. he’s the type to be chatting with teachers, students, the old, the young. he’s a mood setter and everybody loves him.

• you fell for him. hard.

• before dating him, it made you a little agitated that everybody got along with him so well. you never knew if his smooth words and instantaneous charm were factors of all his conversations. you could never approach him, since you’d never been good at displaying romantic intentions through actions. unfortunately, these small thoughts persisted even after he himself approached you and asked you out for coffee after school one day, despite not knowing you at all. even after he kissed you on the step of your door months later. even after he eventually begged you to be his.

• you aren’t too big on publicly displaying your relationship. initiating PDA was never your thing. you weren’t embarrassed of him at all, you just preferred to stay completely professional and education-orientated when in school. he’ll tease you, once even told you you remind him of a female ushijima... before staring at the ground to reflect on his own comment and taking it back vehemently (he doesn’t want to imagine dating his best friend in front of you).

• whenever you ask him if girls talk to him, he hushes you copiously, assuring you that every man and woman that’s entered his life after you as resembled humanoid blobs in purple uniform. he has eyes for only you.

• you’re a little cold, you tend to be when jealousy sets in. like that one day your friend told you that this notoriously pretty second year had approached him, handing him a blank lined sheet and asking for his help with her english work. you found out later that she’d thanked him with fluttering eyelashes and big smiles, before frowning down at the paper.

• he’d ended up practicing his signature over and over on the page because -and you quote- “i suck at english too but this paper was good document-signing practice, so thanks!”

• a relief washes over you. you and tendou are stark opposites, in fact, the only time you ever feel obliged to lose your cool is over him. however, you know he’s loyal. he loves you very much and hopes that you’ll come to trust him with your entire heart one day.

• you vow to work on it, hard.

if sugawara was my s/o i’d just accept that everyone else would probably fall in love with him too

• this boy is made of honey. the first time you laid eyes on him was during first year, noir jacket slung over his shoulder, beautiful, silver hair rustling as he tried to shut the class window as you walked in, you were hooked.

• you felt utterly helpless at how infatuated with him you were. your friends all felt the same way. picture: sighing together and staring whenever he did ANYTHING. he was so sweet to absolutely everybody. nobody could ever bring them selves to defy, ignore or be aggressive with koushi. from the start it felt like you had competition.

• you’re a happy-go-lucky, loud-mouth shithead with an abudance of enthusiasm and energy but this third year makes your knees shake. walking up to him on a summer’s evening to ask him out, you could barely even talk. luckily, he did all the talking for you. your time together has been nothing but loving history.

• sugawara likes to spend his free time with you, often lunches, where he’s adamant on feeding you lots and lots of his own cooking to ensure you’re well-fed.

• imagine your surprise, when you’re walking, hop in your step, over to your usual meeting place and see your boyfriend sitting with another girl, feeding them. your heart practically falls out of your ass. steps slowing, you don’t even try to hide your alarm as you approach him. koushi’s face is to you, smiling and laughing. he catches sight of you and waves happily.

• your expression doesn’t change. you’re confused, hurt, unsure of how to act. should you just pretend like everything is fine? you feel like criticising them but they’re just eating. god, you’re overthinking this.

• “(y/n)! say hi to hinata!”

huh?

the girl turns around.

oh god.

• hinata’s blowing unattractively on strands of hair that are stuck to his face, before leaping up to greet you. he’s wearing a god damn wig.

“ah! (y/n), hi! i took totally weird, don’t i. it’s for this stupid drama class. i seriously thought i’d get to act and do fight scenes and look super cool to girls but instead, they made me dress up as a high-school girl! it’s ‘cause i’m short, they said!”

• you’re not even listening, just wallowing in your shame at how panicked you were.

“—i ran into sugawara and he let me try some lunch, have you eaten?” you shake your head, before grinning and suddenly grabbing the younger boy, trapping him in a playful headlock and making him squirm.

“oi, hinata. you gave me a scare, makin’ me think some doe-eyed lowerclassman was chatting up my boyfriend!”

• he whines and apologises profusely. koushi just sits and laughs, munching on his lunch and watching you give the poor boy hell. he’d never dream of that, he know you’d do worse to him if that were ever the case.

#haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu #sugawara headcanons #sugawara x reader #tendou headcanons #tendou x reader #kuroo headcanons #kuroo x reader #HSDJSOSK THIS WAS FUN TO WRITE #the last one especially #hq

[bookofjudith]

I received this LOVELY ficlet set in the same AU as ‘a cardinal hits the window’, and it made me cry. thank you so much anon for sending it to me!

                                                 _________

Hi! So. I love your fanfic so much. And I was reading through the comments/threats posted on “Cardinal” and saw one that made a suggestion for a fic set in the same universe that involved Zuko. And the plot bunny attacked. So here it is; self-indulgent and un-edited. Please don’t feel obligated to post this at all! It’s just a thank you for all you’ve written. On the other hand, please feel free to throw this up wherever you want, and to make any changes at all to it. From this point on, it’s fully, 100% yours to do with as you please. May your weekend be lovely!

Warnings: Brief mentions of past character deaths, mentions of injury, mentions of surgery and other hospital things, mentions of child abuse.

It always took long enough for Iroh to register that he was hearing his own mobile phone ringing – there was just always so much background noise in the Jasmine Dragon that he had learned to tune everything but the landline and the words ‘excuse me’ and his name out completely – that it stopped before he got to answer it. Usually, when that happened, he let it be; there was no point dropping things to dive for a call he’d already missed, anyway. But, that afternoon, the phone started up again almost as soon as the last call had died down, and the ringing was close enough to the first that he noticed. Still, by the time he’d carefully set the trays down and fished the device from his pocket, it was silent again. Iroh peered at the screen and felt his eyebrows raise even as his heart clenched suddenly. He had no fewer than eleven missed calls – four from Sokka, and seven from Katara.

The landline rang, but Iroh called for Jin to please answer it, his fingers slow but determined on the phone screen before him. Something was wrong; he could feel it in the very blood his thudding heart was pumping around his body. Something was wrong, because Katara and Sokka wouldn’t be that adamant to get hold of him if it wasn’t. And, oh, hadn’t he had a premonition of ill omens the evening before, when Zuko had asked him to swap out his shift at the Dragon last minute but then had been cagey about why? He should have pressed for more information; should have forced Zuko to tell him why he couldn’t meet his eyes as he mumbled out weak excuses. Meeting somebody who can only make that time Zuko had said. Katara’s coming with. Iroh shouldn’t have let that appease him; shouldn’t have been mollified by the young woman’s presence just because she and Zuko had made such surprising, strong friends in the past few years after their initial rocky start. He should have done more than warn Zuko to take care of Katara, not yet fifteen and therefore more Zuko’s responsibility than any of his other friends, and should have not been so easily reassured by Zuko’s offence at the insinuation that he wouldn’t do all in his power to ensure all those he cared about were safe, but especially the younger ones. He should have –

“Iroh!” Jin stuck her head around the door. “The phone’s for you. It’s Katara. And it sounds urgent.”

Iroh abandoned his attempts to call one of the siblings back and instead half ran to the phone. “Katara?”

“Uncle,” Katara sobbed, her breathing harsh and full of tears. Ice began filling Iroh’s veins as sweat broke out all over him. “Uncle you – you have to come quick.”

“Katara, what happened?”

“You have to get to the h…hospital,” Katara sobbed. “It’s Zuko.”

Iroh’s heart nearly stopped beating on the spot, and he hung up without a proper goodbye.

***

Iroh’s heart didn’t stop beating. But Zuko’s had. If Katara, with her first aid certification, hadn’t been there… If the ambulance hadn’t arrived before he’d crashed a second time…

He’d promised himself, when he’d lost Lu Ten, that he’d never take for granted the spaces a beloved son filled inside his heart and his chest. Never again would he only notice how full he had been because there was suddenly emptiness there. But, despite his promises, he must have still forgotten, because sitting in an uncomfortable waiting room chair while Zuko’s life hung in the balance of the spirits’ and the doctors’ hands, all he could see was the approaching emptiness. What life would be like without Zuko. And he was too numb to even cry.

From Katara, he’d learned this: Zuko had made plans to meet with Azula, to try and convince her to leave Ozai to come to stay with them. He’d been hopeful enough to drop everything to see her, but wary enough that he’d brought Katara along with him as backup. It had started out almost hopeful; Azula had swung between scorn and doubt, between spite and near-broken uncertainty, and Zuko had seemed to really be getting through to her, for once. And then something had changed, and she’d gone on the offensive, dragging Zuko into a fight that had grown worse and worse until Zuko had firmly chosen to walk away. He had told her, out loud, that he was not going to be the person Ozai had tried to make him, that she could contact him if she needed anything or if she was ready to talk, and had begun to walk away. Azula hadn’t liked being left behind. Something in her seemed to snap, and she kept trying to force Zuko to stay. Katara had stepped in, realising it would be easier for her, an outside party, to respond to Azula than it would be for Zuko. Azula had been merciless with her, but Katara had stood her ground. And then Azula had, so quickly Katara still couldn’t understand how or why, brought out a Taser. Zuko had done what he always did – what Iroh had known he would do without thinking about it even as he’d reminded Zuko to take care of Katara: he’d stepped between his friend and harm.

Zuko had gone down, and hadn’t gotten up again, and Azula had zapped him once more in her rage. Katara had shoved Azula off and somehow disarmed her and then fallen to Zuko’s side and had found him unresponsive but panting. And then… then there had been nothing. She couldn’t tell Iroh exactly what had happened after that, but somehow she’d called Sokka on autopilot, and he and Suki had dropped everything to rush over, calling the ambulance as they came. Azula had… disappeared. Katara thought she remembered yelling at Azula to call somebody, and seeing only a face white with shock and horror, staring at her brother’s fallen form. But she couldn’t be sure what had really happened in those moments.

From the doctors, Iroh had learned this: much of Ozai’s complaining about how Zuko was never as fast or strong or energetic or full of endurance as Azula was down to a congenital heart defect. Nobody had picked it up (or so they said, but in Iroh’s head rang Ozai’s voice spitting that Zuko had been lucky to be born) and it had steadily worsened over time, never getting bad enough that it was more than an inconvenience. He would have had mild heart palpitations from time to time, the doctors said. Probably not painful if Zuko had never said anything, the doctors said (but Iroh knew better, he knew his nephew he knew and, oh, Zuko, what more suffering had been kept a secret?). They couldn’t know for sure without a diagnoses, but the worse symptoms would have been that he tired easily, got breathless and/or lightheaded occasionally and had a slightly more rapid heartbeat. Inconvenient, but not truly dangerous. Not until the Taser had been applied directly to his chest.

From the kind nurses he would have flirted with, slightly, if his world wasn’t on the brink of ending, he learned the following: they were doing all they could to fix the underlying damage as well as the damage the Taser had done. They’d tried doing a non-invasive route, first, but had had to resort to opening up his chest. They’d tell him once they heard any other news, they promised.

Katara, Sokka and Suki had been there for an undetermined bit of time at the beginning. Katara, despite being tear-swollen and devastated, hadn’t wanted to leave until she was sure Zuko would be okay, despite the nurses trying to gently but firmly tell her only family was allowed. He is family, she’d snarled at one point, and Iroh had almost had the energy to side with her against the nurse, who hadn’t understood just how true Katara’s words were. Eventually, it had been Sokka who had convinced his little sister to leave. Iroh hadn’t seen it at the time, but sitting in the aching, black eternity of waiting, he suddenly put together the clues he hadn’t recognised before: this hospital haunted that young man in a way that was still viscerally painful. Too much time with his friend who had only recently passed. Too many ghosts, and far too much pain, and his inability to stay, even for Zuko, had finally broken through his little sister’s stubborn fear-love enough for her to agree to leave for the time being. Iroh might have imagined it, but they could possibly have said they’d gather the whole group together in order to wait for news.

It was one of the most coherent things Iroh thought about in that ceaseless agony. The rest of his thoughts were far more incoherent, with only brief flashes of lucidity. No, don’t call his father, I’m his guardian. I will not let his father near him, was the longest sentence he said out loud. The rest were monosyllabic responses coaxed out of some automatic part of himself while his true nature hunkered down like a wounded animal, believing that if he was just quiet and still enough the pain wouldn’t find him a second time.

That wounded animal also had teeth, however, and it bared them in his mind. Why hadn’t a single doctor in the burn unit picked up the heart problems? Zuko had been in their care for months. Why hadn’t Ursa? Why hadn’t Iroh himself? Why hadn’t Zuko just said something? How often had he said I’m tired and meant that his body was unable, unable, unable to do what the world was demanding of it? Why had Zuko gone to meet Azula in the first place, with only Katara with him? Zuko should know by now what a poisonous woman Ozai had made his daughter into. A Taser. Her own brother. Could he arrest her for it? Could he make sure that Azula never again hurt another person? Could he punish her for what she’d done, the way Ozai had punished Zuko so many times?

Shame made him lucid. Shame and guilt and a bowed head of silent apology to his niece. But, even as he meant it, he also did not. There would be time to truly repent for the things he felt toward Azula in those long moments, but that time would come after. He simply… did not have the capacity to forgive and see reason and compassion for his as-abused niece while his nephew – his son, his Zuko – possibly lay dying. Those moments turned him back into the man he’d spent years growing away from after Lu Ten’s death, because, as much as he’d genuinely changed and fought for that change, he was only human. More than that; he was Ozai’s kin.

That shame in him made him think, as the tired doctor walked toward him, that the universe would punish him the same way twice. And all he could think, distorted and desperate, was, please don’t kill him for my transgressions. Nor for Ozai’s or even Azula’s. Please. You’ve done enough. He’s paid enough. He’s done enough reparations for himself that he doesn’t deserve this.

From the tired doctor, Iroh learned this: he was still allowed to keep this son.

Crying loudly in the middle of the hospital was not one of the things Iroh would feel shame about in the days to come.

***

Sweet talking and bribing all the nurses not only meant that Iroh could stay past visiting hours but that he could sneak Zuko’s friends in past the family only rule. Zuko would only be kept in the hospital for a week before being discharged to heal at home, but the kids couldn’t wait that long to see him, and Iroh understood their anxiety. They’d been told to limit it to two at a time, and Katara was almost always one of the two. Some of her tenacity being at Zuko’s side was born of guilt and processing the trauma she’d been through, Iroh knew, but most of it was that near-nameless understanding that had dropped between the two of them, sometime Iroh hadn’t been looking. Suki was second most frequent, Aang and Toph were tied and Sokka… Sokka barely came. Iroh was nearly as anxious to get Zuko home for Sokka’s sake as he was for his own and Zuko’s, because it was obvious that Sokka wanted to be there for Zuko, but just as obvious that the hospital killed him inside.

“It… smells the same,” he’d confessed to Iroh, looking haunted and on the verge of tears.

Zuko whispered something similar to Iroh when he was most inhibited; when calm and focus couldn’t stop the memories of the burn unit from encroaching. That morning, Iroh had found his nephew in one of those moods – anxious enough he was making the nurses frown at his heart rate and anxious enough to snap and snarl to try and get them to stop poking, stop demanding, stop keeping him there – and so he’d made a big show of going to get Zuko his favourite food. It hadn’t helped, much, but it had helped Zuko get his tongue under control a little bit more. Iroh returned with the food to hear murmurs from inside Zuko’s closed curtains, and so he paused and took a peek inside before entering.

Katara was on Zuko’s hospital bed, curled carefully on his left side so that she didn’t jostle or lean on Zuko’s still very broken sternum. One hand was in his hair, and Iroh realised that she was guarding his weaker side as Iroh himself had subtly tried to do countless times. Having somebody trusted there helped Zuko to relax more, and she knew this. Sokka was the other one in the room, and, although he was still in a chair, it was pushed so close to the bed his knees were up to his chest. He was holding Zuko’s hand, and looking utterly unperturbed by that fact.

The most surprising thing was that Zuko was the one speaking; murmuring reassurances and comforts to both of them in a voice still weak and breathy and more raspy than usual. It’s fine. I’m fine. Everything’s going to be fine. You’re both okay. Thank you, Katara. Sokka, buddy, hey… Hey…

Iroh backed away. It wasn’t for him to see. It tasted bittersweet in a sharp way he wasn’t sure he’d ever really experienced, before; Zuko reassuring a friend who had saved his life and a friend who hated hospitals because he’d lost love slowly, painfully, inevitably inside of one. Zuko, surrounded by so much love, this time around, when the first time he’d been so alone and small and quiet and heartbrokenly enraged in a similar bed. That young boy hadn’t even had the pieces to comfort himself, let alone others. And here Zuko was now, being comforted and giving out comfort. Without tripping over himself, without second-guessing, without embarrassment, because that love had become second-nature.

In that moment, Iroh truly began to repent for what he’d thought about his niece. Because he understood all too well why Zuko had gone to meet Azula, and why, even after all this, he’d never stop trying to coax his sister into a proper home.

***

The tense, anxious mood relaxed slightly when Toph began to cackle out of nowhere. “How much does this suck, eh?” she giggled at Zuko.

Zuko rolled his eyes, even though she wouldn’t be able to see it, pinned between Suki and Sokka, who were each gripping an elbow, and hemmed in by Iroh and Katara in the front and Aang at the back, ready to catch him if he fell.

“If I ever coddle you like this, push me down these stairs,” Zuko grumbled at her.

“It’s a deal,” Toph said, cheerfully, even as Suki gently – very gently – flicked Zuko with her free hand.

Katara put her hands on her hips. “Say that without panting or wheezing and when you don’t look white enough to pass out and it might have more weight,” she said, primly.

But they did all ease up some as they continued to slowly shepherd Zuko to Iroh’s apartment. There was no elevator, and the stairs were steep, and despite the fact that they might have been a little over-protective, it was hard going on Zuko’s broken chest and still-healing heart. And so they all stuck close, and caught him when he staggered a little, very careful of his broken bits, and finally managed to ease him down onto the sofa. Zuko’s eye widened a little as he looked up and caught them all looming over him, very close, all huddled together.

“Holy shit, you guys – ” he started, sounding exasperated.

“Okay, okay, yeah, back up and give the dude some space.”

Everybody shuffled maybe a step or two away. Suki kept her eyes carefully on Zuko’s face, noting the things Iroh himself was picking up. Suki met Iroh’s eyes and pursed her lips a little before venturing forward with, “Hey… if you want us to rather go and come back tomorrow…”

Zuko blinked at her. “I thought we were watching shitty movies,” he said, in confusion.

“Yeah, but… if you’d rather sleep,” Katara said, catching on.

Sokka let out a rude noise. “Then he can sleep. But, dude, Movie Night Rules apply to you, too, so if you’re the first to go you know you’ll wake up with a Sharpie ‘stash.”

“As long as Toph doesn’t draw it,” Zuko said, and Toph happily flipped him the bird.

Still, Suki met Iroh’s eyes one more time, seeking permission. Iroh smiled warmly at her and made a gently, slowly motion with his hands where Zuko couldn’t see. And so the group arranged themselves, snacks and extra pillows – most of them for Zuko – and set up Toph’s state-of-the-art laptop. Sokka sat to Zuko’s one side, Suki on the other with her leg casually over Zuko’s, both of them as close as they could be without hurting. Toph and Aang sprawled on a futon nearest the laptop, while Katara had a beanbag chair set up so that her back could press against Zuko’s legs while her legs could be used for Aang to lounge against.

Iroh persisted until he captured a great photo of the moment, because he wanted to remember what quiet, strong love looked like for many days to come.

“Who wants tea?” he called as the opening credits started, and he knew their grunts enough to know who had answered and what, exactly to get each of them.

He, just like Zuko, was also no longer alone.

#gift fic #Anonymous #a cardinal hits the window #every part where u mentioned sokka made me tear up HONESTLY #also galaxy brain anon giving zuko heart problems cus like...ive done the same thing....something about it just hits different #submission

[dictacontrion]

Hellooo! I could use a bit of advice if you have it. I sometimes take fics offline (leaving fandoms, removing problematic fic when I learn better, etc.) but usually hand out pdfs if anyone comes along and asks. Recently I took down a somewhat popular fic and have had rude asks about where it went/demands to put it back up. Those I just tell "I took it down/I won't repost it" and now I'm having people tell me I'm rude for responding in that way?? most of these asks don't even say hi, just (1/2)

just launch right into “where did x go.” or similar. I wouldn’t be so bothered if I weren’t getting weekly asks about it (it’s been about two months since I took the fic down). I haven’t given out pdfs of this one either because nobody is even asking politely? I’m at my wits end and don’t really know how to make people stop, or if it’s at all possible to make them stop… (also I haven’t stated anywhere publicly that I give out pdfs, but I do it bc I know it sucks to see fics vanish.)  (2/2)            

Oh, anon

Firstly, this seems like a good moment to remind everyone of the saying “fanfiction is shared with you, not written for you.” For readers, this means remembering that fic isn’t something you’re entitled to. For authors, this means remembering that your fic is yours to share - or not. That isn’t just true as a community standard; iirc the plot, any OCs or original settings or ideas, and writing that isn’t from canonical texts is your intellectual property. It’s yours - you made it, and what you do with it is up to you.

In other words, your demanding readers are (as it sounds like you already know) missing the point in a big way as well as being rude and unkind.

As for dealing with them, the answer that comes to mind is going to be unpopular, but it’s the one that’s worked best for me in irl situations with entitled, rude people: just don’t respond.

To be clear, I think it’s awesome that you’re giving polite people who ask nicely PDFs of the fic! But you aren’t ever obligated to reply to people, especially when they aren’t being polite (and not so much as saying hello (!!) or please or thank you definitely qualifies). Plus, someone who’s that rude at first isn’t going to suddenly become respectful if you send them a sincere, thoughtful, considered response. Definitely recommend continuing to be nice to people who are nice to you! But those who aren’t? Go ahead and delete them, and save yourself the time and consternation.

If that doesn’t sit well, the other option I can think of is to develop a canned answer that you copy and paste. “Hi! Thanks for asking about my fic! I’m sorry to say that I’ve taken it down and won’t be reposting it, but I hope you’ll check out my other works and keep reading in this fandom - there’s so much great fic out there, I’m sure you’ll find other things you love! x” Not exactly that necessarily (though you’re welcome to use it if it helps!) but something in that vein - firm, unequivocal, friendly, validating, final, and reusable. Again, the goal is to make this as quick and emotionally easy for you as is possible. Deleting rude asks is, imo, a-okay, but there’s nothing wrong with meeting rudeness with something nice if you feel better about that. (And if they keep pressing, you can start deleting at any point. Remember that starting a conversation doesn’t mean you have to continue it endlessly. Plus, wouldn’t it be better for everyone if you use that writing energy on things you enjoy instead?

Hope that helps!

#fandom #fandom etiquette #i also just want to register a certain not-insignificant level of WTF at your readers #because wtf?????????? chill! #if an author has taken a fic down it's not been done lightly #there is a reason #it may be a very personal reason #it's not a reason you have a right to! #be empathetic - imagine how you'd feel if someone was pressing you like that #and then DON'T DO IT! #k? #yay asks!