Hello! My name is Tara (she/her) and you may or may not recognize me from my main blog, @wazzuppy. I'm someone who occasionally likes to write and, for the sake of not losing them in the ever-expansive black hole that is my main, I figured I should make a blog to post some of it.
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pairing: ushijima x fem!reader
synopsis: Problem: ushijima keeps getting confessions. Problem: apparently, he has someone in mind already. Problem: youâre hopelessly in love with him. Solution: ?
tags: slowburn but itâs cause readerâs oblivious, âunrequitedâ love, childhood friends, angst (I guess. Reader crashes out a little lol), fluff
word count: 4.8k
/á â𼌠â ă banner art by @/hk_smith_man on twitter! author's notes at the end.
SHIRATORIZAWA IS A prestigious schoolâeveryone knows that. Â
Besides the outrageous fees (seriously, a million yen already for the tuition aloneânot even counting entrance fees, uniforms, dorms⌠hah! Shouldnât this be considered daylight robbery?), theyâre picky about who they take. Most kids you know got in through sports scholarships or recommendations. And if it wasnât connections that got them their place, it was tremendous academic achievements.Â
Youâve seen it yourselfâthe anxious buzz that surrounds campus whenever entrance exam season rolls around, the way the local hotels get all that more busy every January. The truth of the matter is that students from all over Miyagi flock to Shiratorizawa just for the chance to attend.Â
Shiratorizawa is a prestigious school. It only takes the best of the best.Â
All that to say, with the high school being so picky about who gets to wear its colors, youâd like to argue that everyone could be considered a bit of a local celebrity in their own right. After all, youâre always brushing shoulders with rich kids and geniuses and athletes whoâll probably go pro. Even the most boring kid at Shiratorizawa is excellent in some way.Â
So, you think, seething silently, it would be really awesome if people could switch it up and stop confessing to the same guy!
âYouâre killing your mochi,â Tendou observes, peering over your shoulder.
You blink and look down at your hand where youâve crushed the snackâsticky, sweet red bean paste stuck between your fingers. âIt was always like that.âÂ
Tendou just digs around in his bag and hands you a wet wipe. âLike the milk bread from last week? Or the onigiri from the week before?â
You shove the remains of the rice cake in your mouth and viciously scrub your hands clean, eyes flicking back up to glare at the two students standing at the other end of the hall. âThe cafeteria had it on discount.âÂ
Tendou follows your gaze to where the last member of your little trio stands, patiently waiting for a blushing girl to hand over the chocolates sheâs got behind her back and say her piece. You know her; sheâs that cute soccer captain from Class 3-B. Youâve seen her around at tournaments, cheering loudly whenever Ushijima scores, and you rip the wet wipe apart in your hands because you also know exactly what sheâs about to say.Â
âI like you, Waka-kun! Please go out with me!â
Tendou exaggerates a wince at that and sneaks a glance back at you. Your eye twitches slightly at the nickname but you stay your hand. Your mochi will be the only casualty this afternoon.Â
(A pity. Heâd been hoping for something more drastic. Heâs still got that bet going with Semi and Tendouâs been looking forward to cashing in that win for weeks now.)Â
Itâs a bit difficult to hear exactly what Ushijima saysâbetween the three of you, heâs always been the quiet oneâbut that doesnât stop you from craning your head to listen anyway. If you concentrate, you can just make out that familiar rumble of his voice as he bows his head politely to the poor girl.Â
âI am sorry, but I cannot reciprocate your feelings.âÂ
Itâs not like his response is anything newâitâs all part of the same script that he follows each time another confession comes up (âI appreciate your efforts⌠thank you for your supportâŚâ and so on and so forth), but that doesnât stop the small sigh of relief that escapes you anyway.Â
At least the worst part of this whole song and dance is over. All thatâs left is for him to excuse himself from the heartbroken captain and make his way back to where the two of you are waiting. Then the three of you will walk back to your dorms together and yeah, itâll be awkward for a second but Tendou will go and say something stupid and itâll be shocking enough to distract you from the lingering jealousy that curls in your chest.Â
Whatâs important is that the moment will pass and youâll be able to put this all behind you. Thatâs how itâs always been, and so long as Ushijima keeps turning down confessions, how it will always be. In fact, youâre already turning back to Tendou, ready to change the subject in anticipation when he shakes his head and jabs his finger back where Ushijima is still standing at the end of the hall.Â
âHeâs still talking.â
You whirl around and watch in horror as for the first time ever, Ushijima deviates from that perfectly practiced script and says something new.Â
âI cannot reciprocate your feelings because I have someone in mind already.â
For all intents and purposes, Ushijima might as well have just set off a bomb. Faintly, a part of you registers that he and the soccer captain are still talking, but they might as well be speaking a different language for all you care. Youâre not listening anymore. All you can hear is the ringing in your ears as you turn those three words over and over again in your head.
âSomeone in mind.âÂ
Ushijima has feelings for someone. Heâs been turning down confessions, not just because he doesnât reciprocate, but because his heartâs already taken. By someone else. Someone who isnât you.Â
Youâre going to be sick. You might actually throw up.Â
âTendou,â you say slowly. âDoes Ushijima have a girlfriend?â
Tendou stares at you for a long time, his sharp sweeping gaze studying you with such focus, you canât help but suddenly remember that heâs known for his otherworldly intuition, the one that lets him predict a move before you make it. The one that makes him such a monstrous opponent on the court.Â
Itâs unnerving, seeing it turned on you all of a sudden. Youâve got half the mind to backtrack when he blinks and something clicks, some kind of understanding that dawns on him and leaves a strange sort of giddiness in his eyes when he realizes youâre serious. âHmm. Dunnoooo. It would explain a lot, though, wouldnât it? Some kinda secret girlfriend.â
â...I see.â
â...Youâre making a really scary face right now,â Tendou says, poking at your side. âSee, this is why Semi assigned us jail bail days.â
You shoot him a look, wriggling away from his relentless attack. âWhat? What the hell does that even mean?â
âGoshiki thinks youâre going to go to jail. He wouldnât stop crying till Semi set up a schedule to make sure someoneâs always gonna bail you out.â Tendou pauses and squints at you. âYou werenât supposed to know that part. Donât tell him I said that.âÂ
You wrinkle your nose, briefly distracted by the admittedly hilarious vision of Goshiki wailing at poor Semi during practice, before you shake it off. âIâm not going to jail!â
âNever hurts to be prepared,â he chirps.Â
You donât bother dignifying that with a response, simply huffing when he laughs at you. Whatever. Your efforts are best spent elsewhere anyway, like in turning your attention down the hall to dig for whatever scraps of information you can get.Â
You see, the thing that always shocks people the most about your unorthodox friendship is when you tell them that, between the two of you, Ushijima has always been the one to wear his heart on his sleeve.Â
Of course, no one ever believes you. Theyâll pause and their eyes will flick between the two of you standing side by sideâthe loud, eccentric manager and the taciturn statue beside her. But it makes perfect sense to you. Ushijima is blunt and never minces his wordsâitâs why youâve had to come to his defense more than once on the playground back in primary school. Ushijima believes in saying what you mean and doing what you say. He sees no reason to pretend otherwise. Is it really that unbelievable that he would be this honest about his feelings too?Â
Perhaps your insight is because of your proximity to him: having grown up side by side, you know him in the same way you know that the sun will rise and set, and that hayashi rice is delicious. You can see it even now, that imperceptible shift as the tension leaves him, the way his shoulders relax and drop ever so slightly when he looks up and sees that youâre still waiting.Â
Youâve known Ushijima Wakatoshi since childhood. You can read him better than anyone else. This very skill that you take such pride in is how you know that, despite your wishful thinking, Ushijima has never suddenly fallen head over heels in love with you the way you have with him. You wouldâve noticed the change otherwise.Â
So how could you have missed this? This apparent secret girlfriend of his, these feelings that heâs kept to himself all this time. Heâs always with you or Tendouâso when did he find the time to fall in love without you?Â
Perhaps you just donât know him as well as you thought.Â
Tendou blows a raspberry at the sight of your sulking. âEh? Whatâs wrong with you? Not like you to give up so easily.â He pokes at your side again, exaggerating a sigh. âI thought you liked to win?âÂ
You tense at that. While you might not have known Tendou since childhood like you have with Ushijima, the two of you have been friends long enough for you to realize when heâs up to something. It doesnât take a genius to see through him, especially when heâs sporting that cheshire grin of his.Â
Heâs teasing you. Goading you.Â
The worst part is that itâs working. Tendouâs rightâyou know it, and he knows you know it. You do like to win. Itâs what makes you such a good manager, and itâs why Coach Washijo keeps you on the team even when your competitive nature has been a subject of debate between the two of you.Â
(âWhen I said look for weaknesses in our opponents, I meant physical onesâvolleyball related onesânot that their libero was bullied in middle school!â)
HahâŚfine. You can admit that Tendou has a point, even if heâs making it up for his own hidden agenda. You canât give up this easily, not when you have something worth fighting for, right? So maybe Ushijima has feelings for someone, some kind of secret girlfriendâthatâs fine! Everythingâs fine! Youâve got a plan.
Clearly, thereâs only one reasonable thing left to do. You canât spend the rest of your life burying your infatuation, hoping you wonât accidentally let it slip out some day. You need to be brave and rip off the bandaid, find out the truth so you can move on. You need to confront your feelings. Youâll do itâ youâll really make a move this time.
As it turns out, itâs much easier to break into Ushijimaâs room than it is to confess that youâve been in love with him for the past year.Â
The door unlocks easily with a satisfying click! and you dart in, slamming the door behind you. The hallway was clear the last time you checked, but you donât want to push your luck. For some reason, you have a feeling that the disciplinary committee wonât take âitâs not breaking-and-entering if I had a keyâ as a valid defense.Â
You slip the spare key back in your blazer, tucking it safely in your pocket as you wander around, peering curiously at every nook and cranny. Â
Ushijimaâs room is just as neat as you remember it: textbooks organized alphabetically on his bookshelf, a few pictures on his desk, his volleyball tucked in the corner of his bed where it meets the wall. If youâre being honest, itâs always been a little too empty for your tastes: a little too minimalist, a little too boring. Though you suppose that this technically could be considered an improvement from when you were both children. At least there are pictures now.Â
You still remember visiting his home for the first time, wide-eyed and eager to finally see what the inside of such a grand estate would look like: something like over a dozen places to hide in hide-and-seek, a bedroom the size of your living room back home, even a swimming pool. With how large the place was, surely there mustâve been a room dedicated to volleyballâno, an entire court in there somewhere!
You also remember being disappointed when you walked in and there was decidedly no secret indoor volleyball court that heâd been hiding. Youâd been right about the size of his bedroom, but it just reminded you of one of those sample rooms in those fancy magazines your mom read from time to time. A little too pretty. A little too lonely.Â
Youâd never said anything about it, chalking the whole thing up as one of his quirks, something from his more traditional upbringing, but you did start bringing stuff over from your room to leave at his. Nothing hugeâjust some plushies youâd won in crane games, a few toys from gachapons, a couple drawings youâd doodled in classâbut youâd sneak them in in a bulging bag and scatter them around his room when he wasnât looking.
In hindsight, you probably werenât very inconspicuous, being clumsy and loud and eight, but if Ushijima ever had a problem with you decorating his room, he never said anything. Every time you came back, all your baubles were still there, exactly where you left them.Â
Some of them are here in his door room now. Your heart does a funny flip at the sight of those cheap gachapon figures sitting on his bookshelf. Itâs been years since you first bought them, and yet none of them show any signs of standard wear and tear. Itâs like theyâve been handled gently all their lives.  Â
You jump as your phone chimes loudly with your reminder that trainingâs about to start.Â
Right. No more reminiscing. You need to focus on what youâre here for: the secret girlfriend.Â
Realistically, youâve only got an hour before someoneâs bound to walk in. Youâve timed it perfectlyâyou know Ushijimaâs just finished class and heâs got training next. As the manager, you donât technically need to be there for that, so your absence shouldnât be that suspicious. And since Tendou needs to be at training too, thereâs no chance youâll be interrupted by him either. Itâs the perfect plan. Â
You waste no time digging through the bookshelf, rifling through textbook after textbook, drawer after drawer. Embarrassingly enough, youâre a little uncertain what to look for since youâve never really had any admirers yourself. For whatever reason, no oneâs ever really confessed to you.Â
It used to sting when you were younger but youâve since learned to shrug it off. Itâs not like you were an outcast during things like Valentineâs Day. Thoughtful as he is, Ushijima always bought you something. Plus, youâve read plenty of shoujo manga before. Surely thatâs pretty much the same thing. Â
To no one's surprise, Ushijima isnât hiding any love letters in his math textbook. You kick at the ground when your search through his drawers comes up empty too. Thereâs not that many places left to look. Even though Ushijima lucked out this year and got his own private room, the dorm rooms still arenât anything luxurious. Thereâs really only the closet left (which ended up just being a collection of his uniformsâboring) and whatever he keeps in the storage units.Â
You eye the tiny space under his desk and sigh. Well, youâre already here. No sense in doing half the job.
You shrug off your white blazer, tossing it onto the growing pile of clothes on Ushijimaâs bed, and wriggle into that cramped spot underneath the desk. Itâs tight and distinctly uncomfortableâyou swear you can feel something digging into your shoulder and your legâand youâre briefly granted a moment of clarity as you contemplate if any part of this, this whole adventure, is genuinely insane.Â
Youâre this close to giving up, to swallowing your pride and pretending like you didnât just spend half an hour searching for something that apparentlyâdoesnât existâuntil you catch sight of something in your periphery.Â
There! Right there, under his desk, thereâs an old box neatly tucked away in one of the dorm shelving units. At first glance, it doesnât look like anything special, just one of those cheap plastic containers from Daiso. You and Tendou have one tooâyou know Tendouâs using his to keep all his Jump magazines in one place, while yours is home to a collection of your favorite guilty pleasure: romantasy manga. So unfortunately, itâs not the groundbreaking find you were looking for. Youâre ready to move on, already squirming to move out of the uncomfortable position youâve squashed yourself in exceptâ
Except that worthless plastic containerâit has Ushijimaâs name on it. Heâs written it down himself. Youâd recognize that handwriting anywhereâyouâve seen it before, scattered around his home. His old volleyball. His first sketchbook. His fatherâs novels. You know better than anyone that he only does that with the things he treasures most. And if that's the case⌠what could possibly be in the box?Â
It has to be the evidence you were looking for. Something incriminating, like trinkets that belong to his secret girlfriend. There can be no other explanation for why he would need an entire container to store something so special to him.Â
You did it. You found what you were looking for.Â
So why arenât you satisfied?Â
You heave a great sigh and reluctantly pull your gaze away from the familiar scrawl of Ushijimaâs handwriting, crawling back out from under the desk. Should you really even be doing this? Using the spare key that Ushijima trusted you with to rummage through his stuffâis this really the right way to go about things? What would Tendou say?
Heâd say to listen for anyone outside the door before you open the box, your brain supplies helpfully.Â
You shake your head, absentmindedly swatting at the air as if batting the temptation away. If Tendou of all people would be encouraging you, that should be all the reason you need not to do it then.Â
Besides, you know it's not right. You know itâs none of your business who Ushijima dates or who he has feelings for. Youâre just his childhood best friendâ no more, no less. In fact, what you should really do is just clean up the mess youâve made before someone notices and pretend like you never even saw the box.Â
You swallow and move to stand, to gather the papers youâd scattered all over his table in your frenzy, when your eyes catch the framed photo sitting by his lamp. Itâs an old photo; one your mother snapped back from a time when the two of you were still the same height.Â
Youâd been coming home from your first summer festival together, dressed in your matching yukatas. The two of you had spent the night hand in hand as you eagerly dragged him from stall to stall, chattering away. By the time the festival came to a close, you were dead on your feet, sluggishly letting Ushijima guide you back home.Â
Youâd felt bad about it at the time, the kind of worry that comes with thinking youâre being a nuisance, the kind of nonsensical, childish guilt that youâd failed him as his (self-proclaimed) senior. Youâd wanted to impress him, to show him something as cool as volleyball, but here you were hours later, so tired that you could barely muster another word, let alone figure out how to get home.Â
Kids that age are fickle. You know without a doubt that he mustâve been exhausted too, running after you all night. It wouldâve been all too easy for him to excuse himself and go home early. You wouldâve understood if he did. There was certainly no expectation for him to walk you all the way back home, especially since his house was much closer to the festival than yours.Â
But because heâs Ushijimaâkind, gentle, dependable Ushijimaâthe thought of leaving you behind had never even crossed his mind. Heâd just taken your hand and matched your snailâs pace, slowly maneuvering you through those crowded, winding streets. And then when youâd nearly tripped over your own two feet, heâd simply stopped and offered you his back. Your mother had opened the door to find him standing there with you wrapped around him, dozing off with your face tucked in the crook of his neck, and snapped the photo without hesitation.Â
You pick up the picture and softly trace the borders of the frame. Itâs an old photo and yetâitâs in perfect condition. Thereâs not even a smudge on the glass.
You donât want to lose him.
The thought comes to you unbidden, that ache in your chest growing heavier as you gingerly set the picture back down where it used to be. Thatâs the crux of the matter, isnât it? Youâre just his childhood friendâno more, no less, but godâyou don't want to be.Â
You donât want to lose him, not to someone elseâ never to someone elseâbut the truth is half the jealousy you feel every week is just envy. Envy, because even though you might seethe quietly at the audacity some of these admirers have, using affectionate nicknames and professing their love when they donât even know him, at least they can confess. Unlike you, theyâve got nothing to lose. Unlike you, theyâre not bound by this invisible boundary that they canât cross.Â
The truth is you wouldnât be able to bear it, even though you knew it was only a matter of time before your luck ran out. The only thing worse than someone else having his heart would be you taking the gamble and losing it all.Â
You glance back at the photo, at the way Ushijima held you so easily even then, as if it was second nature to have you by his side. He wasnât looking at the camera either, you realize. He was always looking at you.Â
Your fingers twitch at your sides and then youâre looking back only once to check the door before you throw yourself back under the table, reaching in, twisting your arm in an awkward angle to snatch up the box and drag it back out to the center of the room.Â
The white plastic stares at you accusingly as you trail your hand across the lid and huff out a laugh. Thereâs not even a layer of dust. Typical. You really shouldnât be surprisedâUshijima has always been diligent about taking care of the things he loves.Â
The things he loves. You curl your fingers around the corner, digging them into the space where the lid meets the container. Itâs a bad idea. All of this. Even if you were successful in your impromptu investigation, what would be the point? Itâs not like you could confront him about itâyou canât without explaining how you found out to begin with.
You should put it away. Once you open it, there really will be no more going back.Â
But you would finally know the truth.
Your eyes flick back to that picture of the two of you and you pause only a moment before you give in and finally rip that damn lid off.
âŚ
Oh.Â
Itâs you.Â
Itâs all you.Â
Youâd been bracing yourself for the worstâlove letters, pictures, gifts too precious to keep out on displayâbut all thatâs staring back at you in that stupid, worthless plastic tub is a lifetime of memories youâd almost forgotten about.Â
There are the notes that you used to pass to him during lectures, back when the two of you were still lucky enough to be in the same class, safely tucked away in a plastic sheet and organized by year. Your little doodles are still there, ink smudged slightly on the paper but in otherwise pristine condition. Behind them are the messy, half finished polaroids you snapped of the two of you, with handwritten dates for each one. Bottles, wrappers from the late night konbini runs.Â
And there, in the center of it all, is the flower you gave him at recess, the Japanese camellia you shoved into his hands when you made him promise to play with you forever.Â
He kept it. He kept all of it, this collection of trinkets, and pieced it together into this haphazard mosaic of the story most precious to him: the story of the two of you.Â
You carefully reach in and cup the camellia in your hand, tenderly running your thumb over the dried petals. Itâs smaller than you remember. When you first snatched it from your neighborâs garden, clambering over that fence while she hollered at you, youâd been giddy with your stolen prize. You didnât have the words for it back then, didnât understand the dizzying, overwhelming affection you felt for your best friend. But instinctively, some part of you recognized that with those pretty, pink petals that seemed to spill past your fingertips, your gift could do all the talking for you.Â
You know better now. Perhaps even back then, that too, was love.Â
You smile wistfully. You needed two hands to hold it back then. Where did the time go?
âNice flower. Whatâre you doing in Wakatoshiâs room?â Tendou chirps as he leans over you.Â
You yelp and shove the flower back in the box, slamming the lid back on top. âTendou! Godâ nothing! Iâm just waiting for him to be done with class!âÂ
Tendou squints his eyes, staring at you and the plastic box that youâre currently trying to discreetly kick back under Ushijimaâs desk.Â
âEh? Itâs already 5. Class was over an hour ago. You missed practiceâyou never miss practice. Washijo thought something happened to you. Goshiki wanted to search the nearest holding cell.â
The box makes an unhappy thud when you shove it again and it ends up wedged between the desk and the shelf. Thereâs a brief lull in conversation when you and Tendou pause to stare. You cough loudly and stand up, dusting yourself off. âYou know how it is. I just lost track of time.â
â...This is about todayâs confession, isnât it,â he says slowly, inching closer.Â
âNo!â you blurt, throwing your hands in his face. âI meanâ why would it be? Hah! Wakatoshi gets confessions all the time! Itâs no big dealââÂ
Tendou easily dodges your attempt to blind him and just gives you a satisfied, impish grin. âSo youâre not trashing his room to find his secret girlfriendâs stuff?â
âI donât have to answer that,â you sniff. Tendou just waggles his eyebrows and you narrow your eyes, annoyed. âHang on. Donât change the subject. What are you doing here? Donât you guys still have training?â
Tendou yawns and throws his hands behind his head. âI left early cause I had a feeling you were gonna do something stupid.â
âAnd you wanted to help me?â
âAnd I wanted to be there to see it,â Tendou corrects.
You take a deep breath and bravely resist the urge to just grab him and stretch him like taffy. âThanks.â
âEhhh, donât look so mad! You should be glad Iâm here~â
âAnd whyâs that?â You force out.Â
Tendou gleefully waves his phone in front of your face. âHow else would you know that Ushijima just sent me a text. He says heâs coming over to find us.â
Your head shoots up so fast you nearly smack Tendou in the face. âHow much time do I have?â
Tendou checks his empty wrist. âProbably like ten minutes.â
You let out a particularly creative string of curses as you frantically sort through the mess, shoving books back on shelves and papers back in drawers.Â
(Tendou plops himself down, gangly limbs draped over Ushijimaâs chair, and rests his head in his hand as he watches you fuss over the pile of clothing youâd made when you tore through Ushijimaâs wardrobe.Â
He wonders if you can see itâyou, in a room that only you have the spare key to; a room with the trinkets that you bought for Ushijima as a child; a room he decorated with your favorite colors. If youâve noticed the way that Ushijima always brings his jacket to the gym, even when heâs going to be playing, because you get cold easily. If youâve ever caught how, instinctively, whenever someone confesses to him, the first place he always looks is toward you.Â
Though, given that youâre here in his room frantically trying to cover up the minor crime youâve just committed, probably not.Â
Ah well, he thinks, idly scrolling through all the other messages Ushijimaâs sent about you. Sheâll figure it out eventually. Itâs only a matter of time.)
author's notes: so. this was in fact supposed to be a short 2k piece that would give me a break from working on Without Apology. as you can see it did not end up being 2k. anyways. I had a lot of fun working on this piece and even though it was supposed to be mostly comedy, I think I slipped and accidentally wrote something really earnest. Iâm sure you will make fun of me for this later Liya.
I think ushijima really shines in these âdense x guy whoâs been in love since he was sixâ tropes because heâs very much an âacts of serviceâ kinda guy. In that sense, readerâs rightâif he was in love, it would be really obvious because there would be special treatment. She just doesnât realize sheâs getting special treatment because itâs just how Ushijima has been for as long as she can remember.
I also think itâs really funny that this is supposed to be an ushijima fic and then I basically only had him appear in the beginning and say like 10 words. And then none of those words were directed at reader lol. Itâs just like real Haikyuu.
Anyways. My beautiful wonderful beta readers. Thank you to @sun-snatcher for reading like 5k words about a guy you donât even know and hyping me up anyway. And of course, a big thank you @yuechihua for being so thorough with your edits.I know you absolutely despise ushijima so it means a lot that you would sit down and read 4.9k words of fic dedicated to my beast. I love you hehe!
makes me sad when people run their own fics (or anybody elseâs fics) through an ai checker.
1. an ai checker itself is, I believe, ai.
2. ai checker is known to be unreliable. itâs known to have incorrectly flagged human-made works as ai, and ai-generated works as human-made.
3. ai itself is trained on real humanâs works, in order to mimic real humanâs works and how real humans write. and whether or not you like it, ai as a writing tool is getting better and more developed. because it has more and more works to train on. so by running a fic through its machine, you are giving it more work to train on.
running a fic through an ai checker will not actually prove anything. it will either make you question yourself as a writer, or it will open a door for other writers to get harassed and wrongly accused of using ai.
if you suspect somebodyâs fic is ai and if that bothers you, click away from the fic. harassing the writer or making a call out post will only encourage witch hunt behavior, and witch hunt behavior means innocent writers can and will get wrongly accused too. again, you cannot know for sure if a fic is ai unless the author themself says so. but even then, the best thing to do if it bothers you is click away, block the writer, scroll past the work. harassment, accusations and call out posts do more harm than good to the writing community.
âbut why shouldnât we harass writers if they admit to using aiâ
1. under no circumstances will I condone harassment. I believe there are better, more productive ways to solve a problem.
2. chances are that harassing writers who openly use ai wonât make them stop using ai. it will just make them hide the fact they use ai â therefore their works are no longer tagged as ai, therefore you canât know for sure that itâs ai, therefore thereâs a chance of you, or anybody who is otherwise against ai, reading and giving it kudos without knowing that itâs ai.
3. the most efficient way you can avoid ai-generated works is if âwritersâ tag these works as ai. they will almost certainly stop tagging their works as such if you harass them.
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I think a lot of writers might benefit from giving themselves permission to get weird with format.
Use second person, drop classic rising action and climax format, write backwards, just sit in a moment, tell all you want and refuse to show, make an entire book thatâs just one run on sentence, reject tropes, use all tropes, cliche yourself to death, produce something thatâs completely gibberish. Break all the rules of marketability. Become ungovernable.
Itâs the middle of the night and I should be sleeping but listen. Listen. Just get weird with it. Open your soul up a little bit. Like actually donât worry about it being palatable. Iâm serious. Get weirder. Get weirder right now. Iâm demanding that you get weirder right now. Itâs not your responsibility to make your reader feel good. Itâs your job to make art, goddamnit. Make art. Make weird art. Open up your third eye and eat an entire cheesecake.
Once again recommending that writers, especially newer writers, start ârubber duckingâ
When youâre stumped and you donât know whatâs not working for your writing, or you donât know where to go next, take out a rubber duck (or any equivalent friend/inanimate object, I like to use my dogs) and start explaining every single detail as if the rubber duck knows nothing about writing or about your story. Explain out loud whatâs going on, what part youâre up to, why youâre stumped, and what you know you need to get to when you figure out how to get there
Somewhere along the line of putting it into words and externalising the thought process, itâs likely something will slot into place
So. I'm writing a medieval-like fantasy book. Just started, and it dawned on me that even though my English is very decent, I'm lacking vocabulary in this department.
I decided to make a list for myself, and since I'm already doing it, why not share if someone else is in the same boat?
Here you go. Some vocab for medieval-like fantasy:
Tavern vocab:
Furniture:
Tankard - a large handled mug, usually for ale or mead
Flagon - a large container with a handle and spout for drink
Goblet - a decorative drinking cup, often metal
Chalice - an ornate ceremonial cup
Trencher - a flat piece of stale bread used as a plate
Platter - a large serving dish
Decanter - a glass vessel used to pour wine
Cask - a barrel used to store alcohol
Barrel - a round wooden container for liquids
Keg - a smaller barrel
Pitcher - a container with a handle for pouring liquids
Ladle - a deep spoon used for serving soup
Spit - a metal rod used to roast meat over fire
Hearth - the floor of a fireplace
Mantel - the shelf above a fireplace
Trestle table - a long table supported by wooden frames
Bench - a long wooden seat
Stool - a small backless seat
Food:
Pottage - thick stew
Venison - deer meat
Boar - wild pig
Truffle - rare fungus used in food
Mead - fermented honey drink
Ale - traditional beer
Mulled wine - spiced heated wine
Sweetmeats - small sweet treats
Spiced cider - heated apple drink with spices
Light:
Sconce - a wall-mounted candle holder
Candelabra - a branched candle holder
Lantern - a portable enclosed light source
Torch - a burning stick used for light
Brazier - a metal container for burning coal
Chimney flue - the passage smoke travels through
Embers - glowing remains of a fire
Kindling -small wood used to start a fire
Tallow candle - candle made from animal fat
Oil lamp - lamp fueled by oil
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Varian and the Seven Kingdoms Consolidation of Info
Requested by anon
This is going to be a consolidation of all the official Vat7K stuff I have on my blog, including copy/pasting of posts Kay Ritter and Anna Lencioni have posted, and to a lesser extent, things Iâve posted with insider knowledge I had before Kay ever released their notes. Alexa Bosy was also involved in the project.*
*Please note that all these asks were sent when Kay was still going by Kait and was still using she/her pronouns. I have edited to reflect their preferred name and pronouns when referencing them, but did not edit the content of the original asks.