#might be deleting this one day if I don’t feel comfortable anymore

[titan-desuu]

I think one thing that really doesn’t sit right with me is that I am always nervous about the ship-questions. Like sorry I don’t want to answer publicly WHO I AM SHIPPING if we’re mutuals and you’re cool or you one of the accounts that I always like their postings then you will know.

And I am trying my best not to make it obvi

[jisatsuwaifu]

Life is incredibly frustrating, stressful, and exhausting. Everyday I think “it’s okay, it’ll get better, try again tomorrow” but it just keeps proving me wrong. When I think things are getting better and I can finally relax, something else comes along and puts me right back into panic mode. It’s always something, there’s never a break. I never feel safe. All I do is complain about how sad or frustrated I am and I’m sure everyone around me is sick of hearing it. Which is fine, I wouldn’t want to be surrounded by misery when my life is good either or listen to a broken record when there’s much better music to be heard. I am my own responsibility, I shouldn’t rely on others.

My thoughts consume me. Not in a cutesy I’m just a girl cringe kind of way but in a “I need to go to sleep as soon as possible to prevent an accident” because I cannot trust my own head to comfort me but to only make scenarios worse or feed into my paranoia. I am not built to be left alone. I constantly feel like I’m too much and not enough. I’ve never felt more loved but also so alone in all my life. Everything is black and white there is no grey areas with my mind.

I just don’t think anyone knows or understands how thin I’m being stretched and how badly I’d just love for everything to stop and to be able to catch my breath. Just for a day. I’ve cried for help but I don’t think the one person I need help from genuinely hears me. I dont trust many people to begin with. There’s only so much a single person can take before it starts to cripple them. And I know I can be over dramatic and too emotional at times but this genuinely feels like the end, I can’t see past this point in my life. And the sad part is I do not know how I got here. Or this far to begin with. But I am so tired. It’s times like these I wish I had my mom back or even just a family to lean on and seek advice from, but I can’t even entertain my own sister long enough to talk on the phone with me. I don’t understand why I exist or what my purpose is if all I’ve ever been exposed to is pain and abandonment. There’s some aspects of my life that I know I serve a purpose for and want to make proud, I’m trying my hardest for that one thing. I just don’t want to cause anymore damage than I already have. I can’t be like my mother.

I just needed somewhere to vent, some outlet. It won’t change anything. I feel hopeless and empty again. I might just delete everything. I don’t know.

The best I can do right now is try again tomorrow.

( if you read all of this thanks for listening to my rant and I’m sorry I wasted your time when you could have been scrolling onto something cooler like tiddies or anime idk but ty anyways <3 )

[doll3tt33]

Unnecessarily lengthy ramble abt losing interest and moving on with a new acc + last few bot/fic ideas I might post (feel free to ignore idkidk)

I’ve been having a hectic week regarding academic stuff so I have the worst brain fog rn, and I have a feeling I should unwind a couple more days before writing this but I honestly don’t care atp 😭😭

Basically, as you can see with the title, I’m losing interest in AHS, evan peters, his characters - all that. Besides Colin Zabel (he’s still my husband fr), creating content for everything else feels like a real chore now, whilst back then it was truly enjoyable and exciting.

Don’t get me wrong, I love writing and making bots, like this stuff is basically for life lol. But nowadays, it feels like I’m simply utilizing the evans as tools to write out the tropes I enjoy, rather than actually experiencing a desire to write FOR the characters like I used to ((which still can be gratifying in its own respective way… until a certain motivating factor begins to lack, if that makes sense??

It really sucks cuz I chalked it up to me being burned out, when in reality my attraction was clearly just plummeting as we speak 😔. What’s worse is that I’m really comfortable in this fandom - like I have super cool moots here, there’s no drama, there’s a bunch of evan characters for everybody 😂, and I gained over 500 followers, which is still crazy to me! I tried to “prolong” my interest for the sake of all this progress, but I think the inevitable has arrived and I can no longer keep up, my resolve is crumbling y’all 😭😭😭

I was hoping to wait until the Tron movie comes out in 2025, cuz maybe seeing Evan in there would reignite some of ✨la passion✨ within me, however I don’t feel like hanging around anymore, since I no longer relate to the fandom. I feel so out of place now, like a fRaUD 😩 ((I’ll still most likely watch it, but until then we’ll see

And to clarify, I will most likely NOT post and interact as frequently as I used to anymore. I’m not deleting this account, though I am going to make a new account to post The Boys content, as I want a fresh clean slate to start new.

Before I do go, I might drop a bot or two, maybe even a fic in the near future since they’re halfway done and I did NOT use all that effort for nothing 😭💀:

- corrupt cop!Colin Zabel ((most likely will make this next…. For personal reasons 😳

- a standard pre-cult Kai bot ((not brown hair pre-cult Kai, the recently dyed blue hair one iykwim. sorry

- as for fics, I’ll most likely post a very short smut when Kyle goes down on reader, cuz why not 😏

- might finish the older!grumpy neighbor!kit I talked about before since I’m halfway done

- not sure about this but I have a really random JPM fic where reader (accidentally but also not so accidentally) killed their spouse and they have no one to call but him for help ((heavily based off the tv show Fargo, the first season

No promises tho! I might occasionally come back to post if some random ideas for the evans come up, and ofc for Colin cuz he’s still the loml, no debate <3

[thewonyoungeffect]

how to achieve the “wonyoung” aesthetic !!

people make it seem like you have to wake up super early, eat entirely healthy, have a really long workout routine to have the wonyoung aesthetic, but i’m here to tell you that is not the case at all !! wonyoungism is basically just being your best self like wonyoung, not being wonyoung.

PART 1: MENTALLY

to really get into the wonyoung effect, you have to work on your mental state!! i’ll show you some ways to start thinking positive and such !!

• DECLUTTER: go through your phone and just delete anybody who you don’t talk to anymore, if they don’t benefit you, are toxic, something like that, delete them

• YOU FIRST: start putting yourself first, learn how to say no, set boundaries, don’t let anyone take advantage of you or treat you how they wanna treat you.

• JOURNALING: try journaling, you can experiment with journaling in an attempt to get to know yourself better like your strengths, weaknesses, values, etc !! if you don’t like journaling, you can try different hobbies to see what you like and don’t like to do !!

• CONFIDENCE: work on your confidence, you can do this by experimenting with different styles (if you wear things you like, it can help you gain confidence), have friends that are confident and positive, and try stepping out of your comfort zone (this one isn’t easy so take your time with it)

• YOU TIME: start making days to just hang out with yourself !! you can do anything (movies, food, books) anything that makes you happy !! hanging out with yourself can help you understand who you are inside :)

(if you need anymore advice about this topic, feel free to ask me in my inbox or my comments💗)

PART 2: PHYSICALLY

if you wanna glow up physically, this is the section for you !!

•DRINK WATER: i cannot stress this enough, please drink water !! not only is it good for you but it has MANY benefits .. (eg: clearer skin, flushes out bad bacteria in your body and bladder, regulates your body temperature, and more) if you don’t like drinking water, you can try getting a cirkul water bottle or something like that, it’s water but it taste like juice and they have many different flavors!! my favorite is fruit punch !!!

if you cant afford that, you can just try adding fruit to your water (i suggest lemon)

• SKINCARE: skincare is important, no you don’t need a twenty step routine!! all you need is cleanser, moisturizer, and some sunscreen !!

DISCLAIMER: dont just go buying any skincare because the label is pretty, it might not suit your skin, figure out your skin type and buy items that suit your skin type.

make sure you do your skincare both day and night, it’s okay if you forget, we aren’t robots, we don’t need to be perfect everyday !!

first you cleanse (at least sixty seconds, helps remove dirt in your skin), rinse and then put your moisturizer (helps keep your skin soft and hydrated), then you put your sunscreen (helps protect your skin from skin cancer, sunburn, aging, etc)

• HYGIENE: along with skincare, it is important to shower regularly!! make sure you get all the important spots , and this is optional, but you can get some body scrubs to exfoliate your skin!!

(i made a similar post about this next section titled “how to look your best at school” it basically just covers all of this, but i’m gonna go over it again!!)

• HAIR: try a new hairstyle!! it can really enhance your look, you can try and find some that fit your face shape better or just try any !! it’s your life :)

STYLE: find your style, find out what clothes suit you, what clothes you like, your aesthetic !! don’t forget accessories :)

that’s all i have for now, i can make in depth blogs about any of these topics, feel free to ask‼️

[starlit-typewriter]

Hello! (*^^*) I think you should post the deleted scenes. I think that It will be quite fun to read them, and I kinda think that it would be a bit of a waste not to post them since you put your time and effort into them even tho they aren't part of the story anymore. But of course, only post the ones that you're comfortable with since I like to think that every once in a while, writers write a story that might be too embarrassing for them to post (lmao)

Take care and have a good day/night!

(σ≧▽≦)σ

That's why I asked!

The thing with deleted scenes, is that some of them just straight don't happen in the actual storyline, they're like alternate version of what could've been. So I didn't want to confuse people on what actually happens in the main story.

Be that as it may, here's a deleted scene of the Wanderer ruminating over his own blessing. An alternate ending to Part 5, where he doesn't get dismissed by Nahida and gets grilled a lil bit.

~~~~~

Deleted Scene from Part 5, not canon to main storyline

The two watch the Traveler and Paimon leave, the Wanderer suppresses the urge to tap his feet in impatience. The Dendro Archon has made a point to ask him to stick around after their departures and whilst he had a sneaking suspicion why, he knew he probably wouldn’t like it.

Lesser Lord Kusanali turns to him with a sly smile on her face.

He already could already tell this was going to be bad.

“Just another tool you say,” she smiled innocently, parroting his stance from earlier.

The puppet looks away, unwilling to meet her eyes.

“You already know how I feel about divine favor,” he mocks, “The gods aren't guided by any kind of rationality or moral compass, it was probably done out of curiosity or on a whim,”

“Maybe so,” the Dendro Archon acknowledged, “But just because it’s out of curiosity or on a whim doesn’t mean it can’t be meaningful.”

He had no response to that.

“-and besides, don’t think I didn’t notice how smug you were when you discovered how much stronger your blessing was compared to Tighnari.” She added teasingly.

He didn’t know she noticed. Not that he cared, it was only natural he’d have more favor, frankly he’d be insulted if a mere forest watcher managed to succeed him. Besides it's not like he was comparing them or anything.

Lesser Lord Kusanali smiled at his silence. 

“Can I go back to my essay now,” he grumbled, wanting to leave this conversation.

“Ah, but you didn’t answer my question,” she interjected.

“I already told- ”

“I didn’t ask what you think of your blessing,” she shook her head, “I asked how it felt receiving it,”

Deep down he knew the answer, he just didn’t want to acknowledge it, didn’t want to get his hopes up only for it to be crushed by the merciless hand of fate. 

But he knew that she wouldn’t let him go until he answered, he also knew that if he submitted his essay late, he’d risk falling behind on the class rankings.

“I felt like I had the gnosis again,” he snapped, “Happy?”

She blinked at him, face unreadable.

“What!” he bristled,

“Is that something you still want?” She asked gently,

His mouth opened and closed, he wanted to say ‘Of course’, but well.

He wasn’t really sure anymore, it seemed that she realized it too since she dismissed him from her office soon after.

His mind was in turmoil as he stomped his way back to The House of Daena. 

If he concentrated, he could feel the flickering spark of divine energy cradled in his hollow chest.

Why are you here, he wanted to ask.

Why me?

Why now?

~~~

Hope you enjoy!

[ginnsbaker]

In Losing Grip On Sinking Ships (17 - I/22)

Chapter summary: Natasha visits Wanda; You reach your breaking point at the end of a night after trying to understand why Wanda ever betrayed you

Chapter A word count: 6.1k | Warnings: Heavy angst, heavy drinking, toxic relationships, profound sadness | Ship: Wanda x Female Reader

Author's note: Decided to split Chapter 17 into two parts because it got too long in the end. Enjoy!

AO3 | Masterlist 

Next Part: Seventeen - Part Two

--

Seventeen - Part One

For the third consecutive time, Wanda skips her therapy session.

She leaves Calliope's calls unanswered, letting them go straight to voicemail (and cowardly deleting the messages without listening to them), and as a result, her therapist stops trying to contact her by the end of the week. 

Facing Calliope or putting up with her sensible talks is too much for Wanda right now. She doesn’t want other voices in her head right now. She wants to listen to her heart this time. And it’s saying that you need her right now despite how it might affect her progress.

Wanda hadn't intended to stop going to her sessions altogether. She had, in fact, confirmed for Tuesday, but you showed up at her apartment once again the night before, and, well, one thing led to another. You both ended up so wiped out that she didn't stir until nearly noon. By that time, two hours have slipped by, and her session with Calliope might as well be considered canceled.

Since she's handed over the weekday cafe opening duties to Peter, Wanda doesn't need to be there at the break of dawn anymore. But this also has its downside; there isn't enough inventory prepped for the full day's rush. This leaves her drowning in work from midday right up until closing time.

The way this arrangement saps her energy and leaves her feeling more fatigued than usual is hardly beneficial, yet—

Yet, it's hard for her to harbor any regrets when she feels your comforting warmth cocooned against her back, your body spooning hers, your gentle snores vibrating softly against her skin. In these snatched moments, she can delude herself into believing that the ring she now wears around her neck should rightfully still be on her finger. 

She can pretend that you're still unequivocally hers, and all the traumatic events of the past year are merely fragments of an extended, horrendous nightmare.

It's turning into a routine. You'd show up unannounced, stay until dawn. Once the post-coital haze clears, Wanda tries to nudge you both into discussing what all this means. But as soon as she utters the words, "can", "we", and "talk"—in that exact order—you're heading for the door with a speed that's hard to believe.

But after enduring another week of this unsettling routine, Wanda finally convinces herself that today, she's going to get some answers.

And with that plan in place, she repositions herself on the bed, turning to face you. Looking at your innocent sleeping face, she second-guesses her resolve, opting to postpone the looming confrontation just a bit longer.

Gently, almost reverently, she lets her finger trace the contours of your face. She starts at the bridge of your nose, moves down to your slightly parted lips, then to your neck, and finally your collarbone. It seems to protrude more than she remembers, hinting that you've lost weight. This realization stirs guilt in her, as she acknowledges she's partly to blame.

Her cautious touch eventually rouses you, and she observes as your eyelashes flutter before your eyes slowly open. For a moment, you look disoriented even as your eyes meet her clear green ones. You blink up at her as if you don’t recognize the woman you’re in bed with, but then, as recognition sets in, you nestle closer to her and tuck your head beneath her chin, seeking shelter from the daylight filtering through the slatted blinds.

“I can hear you thinking,” you murmur, your breath whispering across her neck, a spot particularly ticklish for Wanda.

She stifles her giggles, and the resulting tremors resonate against your forehead. The sound is sweet, familiar, and it conjures up memories of moments you've longed for. But it also accentuates the odd situation you're in right now, sharing a bed with your ex-wife, skirting around the glaring issue between you.

“Can you?” Wanda retorts with a teasing tone in her voice, her fingers idly tracing patterns on your arm. “I think we–”

“Need to talk?” you finish her sentence offhandedly.

A nervous laugh slips from Wanda. “So you can read my thoughts. Can you guess what I want to talk about?”

You grow quiet, giving the impression that you're attempting to actually read her mind. But then you pull away from Wanda's warmth and she immediately senses the shift in the air. Instinctively, she yanks the sheets up to cover her bare chest, suddenly feeling very vulnerable.

“I have an idea,” you finally say, your humorless smile straining at the corners. The amusement in your eyes has disappeared, replaced by a heavy, unreadable look. Wanda waits for you to go on, but it becomes increasingly clear that coaxing your thoughts into words will require a lot more effort.

Wanda hesitates, her words sticking in her throat like stubborn boulders. She swallows hard, mustering her courage. “We need to talk about this, Y/N. We can't keep... This can't go on like this.”

“Like what, Wanda?” you ask, your tone edging towards sarcasm. “Like how we've started sleeping together again? Or about how we've conveniently skipped over the reason we divorced? Or the fact that you cheated on me–with a fucking video to prove it?” Your words hang heavy in the air, the accusation clear in your voice. “Or maybe how I cheated on Yelena with you?”

Wanda recoils. This confrontation is as painful as she'd imagined, but she knows it's necessary.

“If we need to tackle all that, then sure. I’m ready to talk through them with you.” Wanda says.

“You always make things sound so easy, Wanda,” you say, sitting up on the bed, the sheets pooling at your waist as you turn to face her. “'Let's just talk,' you say, as if talking can magically make everything better.”

Wanda winces at your words, the hurt visible in her eyes. “I'm not saying that talking will solve everything, but it's a start.”

“A start? We're way past the start, Wanda," you snap, your voice rising with your growing frustration. “We're neck-deep in this mess and I… I don't even know how we ended up here,” you trail off, talking more to yourself than to her by the end.

Wanda absorbs your frustration, taking a deep breath before she responds. “You're right,” she admits, her voice a soft plea against the harsh edges of your argument. “We're deep into this mess, and we both contributed to it.”

The admission hangs in the air between you, a bitter truth acknowledged. But she doesn’t let it linger for too long. Instead, she pushes forward, trying to bridge the widening chasm between you.

“But we don't have to stay stuck here,” she insists, her gaze holding yours. “We can work on it–together. Regaining trust isn't going to be a walk in the park. I know it's hard, it's... it's daunting. But it's not impossible.”

You're silent, the word ‘trust’ bearing down on you. Wanda’s gaze feels heavy, too full of hope. But you don't respond, your features etched in stubborn resolve. She’s trying to make you see something that maybe you no longer have faith in. You can’t give her what she’s asking.

Her expression falls, as she reads your lack of response correctly. There's a small, choked noise from her throat before she manages to whisper, “Is it because you think you'll never be able to trust me anymore?” 

There's a beat of silence as you process her question, the pain of her words seeping deep into your bones, but you can't bring yourself to deny it. “I don't know, Wanda,” you admit quietly, honesty lacing every word. “I don't know if I can.”

The words hit harder than Wanda was expecting, and she flinches as if struck. She knew it was the truth, but hearing it from your mouth was another thing altogether.

“I’m just gonna go.” you say after some time.

“Sure,” she says tightly, her eyes becoming stony. Wet. “That's the only thing you're good at, isn't it?” 

You say nothing as you retrieve your clothes from the floor. 

Wanda’s hand hovers mid-air, aching to reach out to you, to hold you back. But she refrains, lets it fall to her side. “If you walk out that door, don't bother coming back unless you're ready to work through this,” she declares firmly .

You pause at her words, your back still turned to her. The silence that follows is heavy, pregnant with tension that seems to seep into the walls, the furniture, the very air around you. Then, a bitter laugh escapes you.

“You enjoy this, don't you?” you ask, finally turning to face her. Your expression is ruthless, your eyes devoid of any warmth that used to be there when you looked at her. “You like that I keep coming back to you, don't you?”

Wanda's jaw tightens at your accusation. It strings, but she doesn't say anything else that she might regret later. She merely meets your gaze, her green eyes resolute and unyielding. It's her silent acceptance of your statement, her silent promise that she won't back down this time.

Without another word, you turn and walk out, the door closing behind you with a soft click. 

The conversation is done, at least for now.

***

The journey back to your apartment is a blur, consumed by a hollow emptiness that echoes the space once filled by Wanda. 

As soon as you push through the door, you make a beeline for the bottle of bourbon left opened in the kitchen from the night before. You're running purely on anger and adrenaline, the aftermath of your argument with Wanda coursing through your veins.

Why couldn't she just leave things as they were? Why did she have to spoil the one thing that was bringing you a modicum of happiness from your suffocating reality? Why did she have to care about you when you’re giving her what she wants? 

You take a hefty gulp from the bottle before frantically grabbing your phone. You scroll through your contacts and hit call when you reach Yelena’s name. The call doesn't even go through, instead, a busy signal immediately begins, an all-too-familiar sound. Next, you try Natasha, and while the call connects, it only results in endless ringing, until finally, her automated voicemail message starts.

In a fit of rage, you scream expletives at the top of your lungs. Your anger peaks and in a reckless moment, you hurl your phone against the wall. It shatters with a loud crunch, breaking into countless small parts, clearly beyond repair.

The kiss was a lapse in judgment during a weak moment. 

You never slept with Wanda while you were still with Yelena. 

Why does it feel like you're being unfairly penalized? Did they never love you like you thought they did? Do you really disgust them so much that they’ll just forget that you exist altogether? 

These thoughts gnaw at you, stoking the flames of abandonment, leaving you with a haunting feeling of being easily discarded.

Your heart beats erratically in your chest as you look at the wreckage of your phone. It's a fitting metaphor for your life at this moment—shattered, fragmented, irreparable. You slump down onto the kitchen floor, the chill of the tiles seeping through your pants' fabric, but you barely notice.

This time, drinking remains a problem but caution has been thrown out the window. With the bottle in your hand, you take one long swig after another. The room starts to spin, your vision blurs, and you don't fight it. Instead, you let the waves of oblivion wash over you, your grip on the bottle slackening as you slump against the kitchen cabinets. 

Just as you drift into unconsciousness, a beep from your laptop fills the quiet room. It's a new email from your company's HR, asking about your unexpected absences. But with you passed out on the kitchen floor, the urgent email goes unnoticed. 

***

The moment Natasha strides into Wanda's café, the world seems to freeze on its axis. Agatha, having heard about your best friend through Wanda, knows this can’t be good for your ex-wife. 

Her aura is menacing, enhanced by her leather jacket, and her stern gaze holds a lethal quality that could vaporize everyone in the room if it were possible.

(It’s also incredibly hot, but Agatha has no room to explore that thought when she immediately fetches Wanda, who's been buried in the backroom task of refilling the condiment bottles for each table.)

“Got a visitor out front,” Agatha blurts out, slightly breathless. “I'm pretty sure it's Natasha.”

Startled, Wanda looks up from her crouched position on the floor, a fine dusting of cinnamon, sugar, and other seasonings speckling her figure. “Are you sure?”

“Fiery red hair, a bit intimidating, and strangely attractive,” Agatha elaborates. “I'm absolutely sure it's her.”

Taking a deep breath to steady herself, Wanda gradually pushes up from the floor. “Okay, um…” She pauses, gathering her scattered thoughts. “Alright.”

Agatha practically pushes her forward, making her stumble into the bustling open kitchen where Natasha is nonchalantly leaning against the counter.

With a soft clearing of her throat, Wanda tries to shake off the sudden onslaught of nerves. She pulls herself upright, trying to project a calm she's far from feeling. “Natasha,” she begins, “What can I do for you?”

Natasha fixes her with a piercing gaze. “We need to talk,” she states, her tone leaving no room for argument. 

Wanda nods. “Sure, if you could just–”

The words are barely out of her mouth when Natasha spins around, heading for the cafe's exit. Wanda, utterly perplexed, follows her, casting a backward glance at Agatha who responds with an encouraging nod.

As soon as they step onto the sidewalk, Natasha progresses wordlessly, Wanda falling in step behind her. The silent walk stretches for a few minutes until, abruptly, Natasha halts. Wanda finds herself in front of a different coffee shop, one noticeably larger than her own. Without a moment's pause, Natasha steps inside. 

Wanda suspects this might be a passive-aggressive move on Natasha's part, choosing to hold their discussion in a competitor's establishment of all places. They navigate to a table tucked away in the corner, and Wanda takes the seat opposite Natasha. Without skipping a beat, Natasha flags down a waiter and places her order, all without so much as a glance in Wanda's direction. 

“I hope you don't mind, but their coffee is something of a guilty pleasure,” Natasha remarks, a hint of mischief glinting in her eyes.

“No, not at all,” Wanda replies, forcing a polite smile onto her face. “It's always nice to see what the competition is up to.”

A heavy pause falls between them, and Natasha's gaze sharpens with seriousness. “I didn't invite you here to talk about coffee, Wanda,” she begins, her tone eerily neutral and hard to read. “I'm here to understand why you couldn't let Y/N go.”

Wanda casually picks up the menu on the table. Her eyes scan the menu with small interest, avoiding Natasha’s pointed stare.

“I'm not sure what you're asking, Natasha.”

“I want to know why you couldn't move on from Y/N. Why you have to cling onto her, even after everything that happened. I'm not saying it's entirely your fault that Y/N cheated on Yelena... But why couldn't you just leave them alone?” Natasha's tone is more accusatory now, and her eyes are steely, demanding answers.

The full brunt of Natasha's presence sinks in only now for Wanda, hitting her hard. If Natasha is seeking her out, it suggests she has severed ties with you. A pang of guilt ricochets through her, understanding all too well how much you depended on that friendship, and how deeply it mattered to you.

The far-reaching consequences of one kiss–a kiss that had made Wanda feel incredibly alive–are glaringly clear now. It initiated a domino effect that razed not just your relationship with Yelena, but countless other connections in its path.

“It's... complicated,” Wanda finally confesses, her eyes dropping to the table.

“Is it really that complicated, Wanda?” Natasha counters, her tone harder than she'd meant for it to be. “You and Y/N were married. You messed up, you cheated, and it ended. Why couldn't you just let it be?”

Wanda draws a shaky breath, the bitter truth spoken out loud wounds more than any physical blow.

“I never stopped loving her,” she concedes despite knowing it will fall on deaf ears. As if on cue, the waiter reappears with Natasha's coffee order. Wanda uses the momentary distraction to request a glass of water.

The skepticism in Natasha's eyes intensifies as she leans forward, her arms resting on the table between them. “So you never stopped loving her,” she repeats Wanda's admission with evident disbelief. “Yet, you cheated on her. You agreed to sign the divorce papers. Can you explain how that works?”

Wanda’s green eyes dart away nervously. Until now, she doesn’t have satisfying answers for those questions. And Wanda doesn’t expect anyone to understand when she doesn’t understand them herself–most of all, Natasha. 

She and Natasha were never close. But Wanda loved her just the same, knowing how she took care of you and acted like a sister when you have no siblings of your own. Wanda cherished her for that, even though Natasha never quite reciprocated the affection. Their relationship had always been cordial but it had never ventured into the realm of true friendship.

“Look, I didn't understand what was happening to me,” Wanda murmurs softly, her nail absently scratching the table's surface as she tries to explain herself to someone who never genuinely bothered to care about her. “Something was… missing. A void that I couldn't understand or explain. And it kept growing, despite Y/N’s consistent efforts to keep me happy.”

Natasha’s face remains stoic. “So you thought cheating would fill this void?” Her words sound more like a statement than a question.

Wanda winces, but she doesn't deny it. “I thought, maybe, if I could feel something... anything else, it might help. By the time I realized what I had done, what I had thrown away, it was too late.”

Upon hearing this, Natasha shakes her head and lets out a cynical laugh. She folds her arms across her chest in an undeniably condescending manner.

“Do you know why I hate you, Wanda? It’s not just because I’m concerned for Y/N or you ruined, yet again, another relationship. You took away the Y/N I knew. She’s not the same person I grew up with.”

“Don’t you think I don’t know that? She’s been coming to me. She’s a wreck, Natasha. I know how empty she feels if she’s turning to me for reprieve.”

“Why then?” Natasha asks.

“What do you mean by ‘why’?”

“Why do you still want her? You couldn't love her the right way when she was easy to love. What's changed that makes you believe you can now, when she’s just a shell of who she used to be?”

Wanda grits her teeth, her hands balling into fists on her lap, out of Natasha's sight. 

“Don’t you think it’s rather hypocritical of you to ask me this? Y-You’ve abandoned Y/N… haven’t you? It’s why you came to me right? Because you left her!” Wanda counters, her voice rising enough to catch the attention of a few customers nearby. 

Unfazed by Wanda's impassioned outburst, Natasha simply sits still, her expression remaining unchanged. “You don't know what you're talking about, Wanda,” she says, her tone icier than ever.

“Well, it appears I've hit a nerve,” Wanda retorts, the edges of her lips twitching into a bitter smirk. “Let me make this clear, Natasha. I may have made mistakes in the past, I may have hurt Y/N, but I'm not the one who walked away when she needed someone the most.”

“You think you're what's best for her now?” Natasha shoots back, her eyes flashing with anger. “After all the pain you've caused?”

Seeing Natasha rise from the table, Wanda braces herself for what's coming next. “I need you to understand, Wanda,” Natasha says, her tone laced with a quiet intensity. “I can't pretend that what happened didn't affect me. Y/N lied to me, hurt my sister. And while I want to be there for her, it's difficult–”

“You mean you won't be there for her,” Wanda cuts her off, her voice edged with resentment.

“No,” Natasha implores, her voice shaky around the edges. “I mean it's hard. It's hard to watch someone you care about suffer and know that they played a role in their own pain. And at the same time, of course I'm angry at Y/N for how she treated Yelena and disrespected our friendship as a result. But that doesn't mean I've abandoned her, Wanda. Why the fuck would I see you if I have?”

Wanda flinches at her crudeness. She never intended to question Natasha's care for you or cast judgment on it.

She’s just tired. Tired from the constant need to justify her love for you to those who question it. Tired of having to constantly prove herself. If people choose not to believe her, even as she recognizes and admits to her past errors and shortcomings, then she has to come to terms with the fact that not everyone will forgive her.

But she is determined to earn your forgiveness. 

She wants to show you, more than anyone else, that she's changed. That she's learned from her mistakes and that she's capable of loving you the right way this time. You matter to her more than anyone's opinion. Your forgiveness, your acceptance, your love–these are the things she yearns for the most.

“I was wrong,” Wanda admits. “I messed up. I hurt Y/N, and I have to live with that guilt every day. But just because I messed up once doesn't mean I can't try to make things right now. You can be angry all you want about what I did wrong in the past, but at least I’m here for he–”

“And what if you're just making things worse, Wanda? What if you being around is just causing her more pain?” Natasha questions, her hard gaze unwavering.

“I... I don't know,” Wanda admits, looking lost and vulnerable. “But I can't just walk away from her, Natasha. If it turns out that I'm doing more harm than good, I promise I'll step back.”

Natasha's silence stretches on for a moment longer, her cold gaze fixed on Wanda. And then, unexpectedly, a smirk twists her lips. It's not a happy expression, far from it.

“Maybe…” Natasha says, drawing out the word, her tone derisive. “Maybe you two do deserve each other. You with your guilt and her with her... self-destruction.”

Her words linger, a harsh condemnation that has Wanda recoiling. Natasha stands then, leaving her untouched coffee on the table. She throws a handful of bills down, enough to cover the drink and then some.

“As much as I hate to admit it,” Natasha adds, shrugging on her leather jacket, her voice laced with a regret that Wanda can't quite put her finger on, “I hope you can help her. Because god knows, none of us have been able to.”

And with those parting words, Natasha turns, leaving Wanda alone to restructure what being with you truly means now.

***

You don’t come back like she asked you to, and somewhere deep down, Wanda is ashamed to admit she's disappointed.

You were right; she does want you coming back to her every time. But you’re wrong about one thing: she doesn’t enjoy it. She’s worried sick about you. You look like you need help the way she needed help when Pietro discovered her passed out next to an empty bottle of sleeping pills.

She fears that you’re going down the same path she did. And what's worse is that she doesn't know how to stop it. You clearly don't want her help, and she understands why. Trust isn't something one asks from a person they don't believe in. And you don't believe in her.

Wanda picks up her phone and dials Pietro's number, her fingers trembling slightly. They're due for their regular Skype session, but she doesn't feel up to showing her face today.

It only takes two rings before Pietro answers. “Why a call, Wands?” he asks immediately, concern clear in his voice.

“I...I'm not really up for a video call, Piet,” she responds, quickly coming up with a half-hearted excuse about her unstable internet connection. In truth, she knows he’ll be able to tell right away that something is off if she turns on the camera.

“Is that everything?”

“Yes,” Wanda insists.

“And your sessions with Dr. Williams?” Pietro's voice sharpens, clearly not buying her claim. “How are they going?”

Wanda hesitates for a moment before answering. “They're...going,” she admits, though she doesn't elaborate. She doesn't dare to tell Pietro that she's missed a couple of sessions. Her therapy is one of the few things that reassure him from thousands of miles away. He'd only worry more.

Pietro bites back the urge to tell Wanda that Calliope has already informed him of Wanda’s recent non-attendance.

She hears Pietro give a noncommittal hum over the line. It's a simple sound, but it tells her everything. He doesn't believe her. She takes a deep breath, gearing up for her next revelation.

“I...I've been seeing Y/N again,” she reveals, words rushing out in a hasty jumble. There's silence on the other end of the line, and she quickly fills it, not wanting to let Pietro's thoughts linger. 

“But it's...it's different this time. There's–there's something there, Pietro. I can feel it. I think we might have a...a breakthrough or something," she stammers, her words racing against one another in their urgency to be voiced.

“And–” she swallows dryly. “And I don't want to ruin my chances this time.”

“Wanda,” Pietro interjects gently, his voice suffused with the kind of worry only a brother could bear. “I think you need to step back and really look at the situation.”

“But I am, Piet,” Wanda retorts, the pitch of her voice wavering with each syllable. “I am looking at this, really looking. When I see Y/N... it's like... it's like…”

“Like you're being sucked back in?” Pietro finishes for her despondently. “Isn't that exactly what happened last time? She’s clouding your judgment–again. You're not seeing clearly. You're just...You're just getting lost in what you used to have.”

There's a pause, and Wanda can hear Pietro let out a deep sigh. “Wanda, you deserve better. You deserve to be with someone who won't tear you apart. I know you still care about Y/N, I get it. But you need to think about what's best for you.”

“Piet…” Wanda attempts, her heart a hefty load in her chest. “I–”

“I can't stand by and watch you do this to yourself again. Not after everything that happened. Not after seeing you... after seeing you in that hospital bed,” he articulates, his voice choked.

There's another pause, this one longer and more poignant. Wanda can hear Pietro struggling to hold back his emotions on the other side of the line. “I'm sorry, Wands,” he finally manages, and even though she can't see him, she knows he's barely keeping the tears at bay. “I just can't.” 

And then there's a soft click as Pietro disconnects the call and the line goes silent. 

Still reeling, Wanda is left reassuring herself that she can handle it this time. She’ll have to–for you.

As for Pietro, he’s prepared to do something that Wanda might hate him for in the future. 

If he can’t convince his sister, then he’ll have to convince you.

***

Wanda's last words to you have stuck in your mind, popping up more often than you'd like to admit. You haven't been back to see her since, knowing all too well she'd bring up that same topic again without beating around the bush.

You're worried about what you might say to her. You'd rather avoid her than hurt her like you have so many times since you two split.  You've been striking out at her, and you can't figure out why you keep doing it. You’ve been using sex as a means to be with Wanda without really being with her–at least not in every sense of the word. Not in the way you want to but can’t bring yourself to. Not in the way you’re capable of.

Without Wanda and your loved ones around, all you have is an empty apartment and a job that feels more like an obligation now. Joy seems elusive, life seems bland–eating just to fill your belly, working just to pass the day. 

You're starting to realize that the best parts of life come from sharing it with others; when you have a friend to call after a long day; when you retire into the arms of someone you love; when your demons aren’t as loud as they are now in your head.

To your astonishment, your Stark Industries badge still functions when you arrive at work the day after collapsing on your kitchen floor. However, it's not long before HR summons you to meet an in-house specialist. After a short evaluation, you're prescribed pills to be taken twice a day and given a mild warning.

Later, when some of your colleagues invite you out to unwind after work, you accept, much to their surprise because you never once went out drinking with them, always preferring to keep your professional and personal lives separate.

You all head to a local bar, a place humming with people seeking an escape from their hectic lives. But the background music, the low murmuring of conversations, and the occasional laughter are just noises to you. The muted light from the suspended bulbs adds to the promise of a good time, but it barely registers. 

You're not really there for the party vibe or the camaraderie with your colleagues; rather, it's the dulling effect of alcohol that you crave. You don’t even join their table, you prefer sitting by the bar where you can ask for a refill with just a snap of your fingers anytime.

A while later, one of your coworkers suddenly totters over to you with a loud, obnoxious laugh.

“Hey, how 'bout you stop moping over here and join us on the dance floor?” he slurs out suggestively, his eyes wandering all over your body.

You’ve heard the whispers around the office, the snide remarks about a woman leading their team. Their resentment rears its ugly head now, fueled by liquid courage.

“I'm good here, thanks,” you try to deflect, hiding your discomfort behind a casual sip of whisky.

But he isn't taking 'no' for an answer. He dismissively scoffs at your refusal and grabs your arm, attempting to pull you from your seat.

A surge of anger bubbles up within you.

“Don’t fucking touch me!” you shout, yanking your arm back. Your voice is swallowed by the pounding techno music echoing around the bar. It's so loud, you doubt anyone heard your outcry, until a figure materializes from the edge of your sight.

“The lady said no,” she intervenes briskly, positioning herself between you and your colleague.

Taken aback, he stutters, pointing at her in a feeble attempt to salvage his bruised ego. “How about you, babe? Care to dance with me?”

Her eyes narrow ever so slightly, and the corners of her mouth curve up into a sardonic smile. “I think I'll pass,” she replies. “You see, I have a strict policy against dancing with pathetic boys.”

A few eavesdroppers start clapping, appreciating her firm stand. You can't help but feel satisfied as his face turns a bright shade of red. Muttering under his breath, he staggers off, swallowed up by the crowd.

The woman turns her attention back to you, signaling the bartender to pour you another drink.

“Sorry about that,” she starts, her voice just loud enough to cut through the ambient noise. “Some men just can’t take no for an answer. It bruises their fragile ego.”

“Thanks,” you say. “You didn't have to step in, but I appreciate it.”

She shrugs, taking a sip of her own drink. “Sometimes, a little intervention goes a long way,” she says, her eyes meeting yours. “And from what I saw, you're not one to be pushed around. I respect that. Cheers to standing up for ourselves!”

You can't help but chuckle as you clink your glass with hers. Her spirit is infectious, and, for the first time that night, you find yourself genuinely smiling.

An hour later, you find yourself doing more than just smiling, in a position you couldn't have predicted at the start of the night. 

You're pinned against the wall of a college student's dorm, her eager mouth marking your neck in an almost painful way. You’re both drunk and you agreed for the woman from the bar to take you home because you wanted to find out something.

You wanted to understand why Wanda cheated on you. You wanted to be caught up in an attractive stranger. You want to know what it’s like to be wanted by someone young and alluring. This is not about revenge or trying to level the playing field; it's about grasping what led Wanda down that path. 

And in the warm, dimly lit room of a young college student, you are willing to go to great lengths for that understanding.

“You’re so hot,” she moans into your heaving chest when you slip your leg between her thighs and draw her closer, encouraging her to grind against it. But as her head lulls back, caught in the pleasure of your advances, Wanda's vivid green eyes hauntingly flash before yours.

The taste of cheap alcohol is still strong on your tongue and a stranger's hand persistently roams over your overheated skin when a jarring realization strikes you.

This isn't what you want. It never was.

You find yourself unable to follow through, to do to Wanda what she did to you. It's not a matter of a moral high ground, it's simply because you just can't.

Feeling the touch of someone else, when you were in Wanda's bed just last week makes your stomach churn. Technically, you’re not doing anything wrong; you and Wanda haven't committed to any kind of relationship. And yet–

And yet, it feels like the worst betrayal. Like you're tarnishing something far deeper than any label can define.

It feels as though you're cheating on Wanda–and it makes you want to throw up.

“Y/N?” 

An immediate, desperate need to flee consumes you. It's not something you can articulate, but something primal, a pressing demand from your body to get away. 

“I'm sorry, I can't do this,” you utter hastily, not giving her a chance to respond as you scramble to grab your coat. Panic claws at you, and in your haste to escape, you find yourself practically running out of her apartment, her protests echoing faintly behind you, growing softer as you sprint down the hallway and out into the cool night. 

It's a double-edged sword of hurt and confusion. On one side, your heart breaks at the very thought of being with someone else, of betraying Wanda, even when you have every reason to. On the other side, the very fact that Wanda managed to do it, to betray you so effortlessly, twists the knife even deeper into wounds that never quite healed properly.

Trying to understand why Wanda did what she did only makes her actions feel worse. It's as if you're learning about her deception all over again, like a new wound overlapping an old one.

Even as your eyes start to sting with unshed tears, the sudden blinking light from your pocket catches your attention. You instinctively reach down and pull out your phone, squinting against the bright screen, as an incoming anonymous message shows up on the notification bar.  With a trembling finger, you curiously tap on it.

Your phone screen displays a photo that instantly drains the color from your face. 

A sterile hospital room, bleak and unwelcoming. And on the bed is Wanda, looking pale, fragile, and disturbingly still, with tubes running from her mouth and nose. She seems lifeless in a way that makes your heart drop.

A surge of fear and concern washes over you, sobering you up instantly. Your stomach knots, your heart thunders in your chest. Your mind spins with unanswered questions, but one screams louder than all others: “What happened?”

Sensing there’s more to the message, you scroll down.

There’s a date attached showing when this picture was taken, along with five words that make your blood run cold: ‘What you've put her through’.

The message, even in its brevity, hits you like a punch to the gut. 

And then, like some dark cosmic joke, rain begins to fall, splattering against the pavement that threatens to crumble beneath your feet.

Taglist: @secretbackrooms | @justgotlizzied , @casquinhaa | @marvelwomen-simp | @sunsol-22 | @wandanatlov3r | @kyaraderuwez | @justyourwritter69 | @stanolsevans | @aliherreraaa | @diaryoflife| @justagurlwholikes | @lizziesplant | @cowxpoke | @sokovianbaby| @swiftie1-0-1

[oracleact]

You can totally choose to look past this cuz it might be a lot (Tw trauma?) I just got Carried, you know when Carrie (from the movie) she gets a bucked full of blood over her head on prom? A guy asked me out and to my surprise, I was blessed with ketchup, eggs and flour by him and his friends, the subway didn’t let me in and no Uber would accept me getting in a car, so I had to walk home. No one asked me what was wrong

I’m still processing that actually happened,. I’m assuming it’s bc of my weight, I’m tall and overweight, I mainly keeps things to myself, am a introvert, idk what other thing could be a reason besides my body. Could you please write a comfort scenario with the tmnt boys? Or one of them, you can choose, Could be platonic, romantic, idk, just reader (who’s usually friendly but don’t talk much about their romantic life cuz they don’t feel like it’s worth investing time, and when they finally decide to change that, thst happens) crying as a mess in front of them for the first time, saying they are tired of living in a body that feels more of a curse than anything,

It’s a lot, I know, you can delete this if you aren’t comfortable doing it (I’m 100% serious)

Thank you Eitherway and hope you have a good day

first of all, I’m so sorry that happened to you. back in high school, I was doused after classes so I can definitely understand your pain here. they are absolutely pathetic for even thinking about doing that to someone; they are total assholes because they acted on it too and I wish for it to haunt them one day when (or if) they mature. you did amazing on your way home that day - I hope that, with time, things will get better for you. you deserve great things. I haven’t written anything with all of the boys before but I wanted to give it a try for you to cheer you up. I wish you well, and I hope you can find comfort in our wonderful turtles!

« got your back »

tmnt x reader / angst + fluff

notes: 1.6k words, all turtles included, platonic relationship, gender neutral reader (no pronouns used,) first person pov, I was thinking of 2012 tmnt while writing this but it probably fits with most iterations.

I can’t believe I’m walking home in the dark, completely covered in miscellaneous goop. I’m glad I didn’t tell anyone about the date that was supposed to happen tonight because, if someone saw me right now, I don’t know what I would do. no public transport let me on covered in eggs and flour, the same for taxis, so now I’m stuck dragging myself home by my own two feet. they are awfully heavy despite my hurry to get back which doesn’t seem fair at all - it’s like my body is laughing at me in equal measure to the rest of the crowd back there.

put your head down and keep walking, put your head down and keep walking, put your—

“hey guys, look!” I stop in my tracks as soon as I hear that voice echo through the night sky. it sounded too much like mikey to simply ignore it.

“mikey, for the last time, shh! ninjas, remember?” that was definitely leo. they all must be up on a roof somewhere but I don’t dare to look up. my feet won’t move anymore regardless, they’re refusing to pick up and run. my body really does hate me tonight huh?

“mikey is right though, look down - hey there!” I slowly crane my neck towards the sound of their chatters and am met with possibly the worst sight I could see at this exact moment: all four of my mutant friends standing on a nearby roof, just as I suspected.

“hi everyone,” I give an awkward wave as they stare down at me.

“want to meet up at the entrance to the lair to hang? we’re just heading back,” raph calls out.

I need a plan, and fast.

thankfully, they can’t see that I’m covered in mush from where they are, but if I go to the lair then that will change. however, if I say ‘no’ to hanging out with them then they’ll get suspicious anyway and follow after me. they’re my best friends, my favourite thing in the whole world is hanging out with them. even if I genuinely can’t hang out we still find a loophole to be together.

either of these choices leaves me doomed to talk about this disaster of a night eventually so…

“sure, you go ahead and I’ll be there in a second.”

…I go with option one.

I knew the boys would get there first so I’ve had more time to come up with some lame lie before I face them: one point to me. I slap on a brave face and a ridiculously wide smile in the hopes that it would distract them from what I have going on all over my clothes. taking a deep breath, I turn the final corner to enter the lair.

“hey bud!” mikey bursts through the rest of the guys and comes skipping towards me. I freeze and simply wait for him to see me in the light. “woah, what happened to you?”

after hearing mikey’s question, everyone starts to crowd in around me, thinking I had been hurt or something on the way here. to their surprise, I have no cuts or scrapes…just a bunch of different types of produce in my hair. they begin to mutter more questions but my mind is too hazy to hear them clearly, opting to stand there and stare into the space behind them. leo notices me zoning out pretty quickly and leads me to the seating area in the middle of the lair by my arm, the rest of the boys following with worry in their eyes.

I sit down on the couch; raph bends down in front of me, donnie sits on my right, mikey hangs over the back of the couch to lean on my left, and leo rests his hands on my shoulders from behind me.

“who did this to you? I’ll kill them, I’ll punch them into the ground I swear to god—“

“raph, calm down. we need to know what happened first before we start going haywire.” I’ve never seen donnie look so aggravated before. it looks like he secretly wants to join in with raph’s immediate anger instead of acting ‘rationally’ this time.

“no need for punching anyone or anything ha! I— uh— tripped while I was walking home and fell straight into a pile of garbage surrounding a dumpster. how clumsy of me ha! I’m so silly. I wasn’t watching where I was going and it was dark so…” my words trail off as I finally look directly at my friends. none of them are believing this story at all.

“tell us the truth, it’s alright. you’re safe here.” leo speaks with such a warm tone, it makes holding back my tears even harder than it already was.

“I’m fine! I promise I’m fine, really I just tripped!” I force my lips into a thin line, trying to twist them into some kind of smile, until mikey pokes at my cheek. I turn to him.

“please tell us what’s wrong.” is he giving me puppy eyes? damn it mikey…

I couldn’t push back my tears any longer and the flood gates exploded. I was in hysterics, sobbing so loudly it bounced off the walls of the lair. I couldn’t stop, each sob rippled through me and I felt like I couldn’t breathe. the boys cooed at me, all of them placing a hand somewhere on my body to ground me and to let me know that I’m not alone as I cried. they tried still asking me questions but I couldn’t get out any words, only heartbreaking whimpers left my mouth. they accepted their fate of silent sobs though and simply stayed beside me.

after a while, I’ve calmed down slightly, and I see the boys look at each other and nod in the corner of my blurry eyes. then, all of a sudden, raph and leo run off. they come back not long after with a basin of water, towels and some other things that I can’t quite see cradled in their large hands. my curiosity is answered in a split second though as the four begin to wipe away the dirt that covers me, still allowing me to ride out my cries in the meantime.

raph gets back into his bent position to gently clean my face, donnie and mikey clean down my arms, and leo starts to brush my hair the best that he can. it must be a brush that april keeps here at the lair, since I don’t think I’ve left one here before.

they continued like this - softly wiping and rinsing - until they were sure that they had done all they can do to rid me of this sticky mess, and until I was able to stabilise my breathing and speak somewhat clearly again.

“april is going to be mad that you got ketchup on her hairbrush,” I say lowly between hiccups. leo laughs and assures me that the brush is perfectly fine; no need to worry.

it is silent (apart from the sound of my sniffling) while they put down their tools and clear them away from the couch, until donnie speaks, “we don’t want to push you to talk but we are here to listen if you want to.”

maybe it is finally time to talk about it. as much as I don’t want to, I think I need to. I’m always the one with a bright smile and cheery attitude but I need to let that go for now. I need comfort, and I need to admit that to myself - even if it’s for this singular moment.

I begin to explain the story of the date and how it went terribly wrong - just the vital details to build the story rather than adding my feelings about it. being vulnerable like this isn’t my strong point so I need to prepare myself to talk about that part with truth and from the heart.

I can see the pure rage in raph’s eyes as he sits in front of me, his teeth grinding together and a low growl coming out of him. he goes to say something but donnie stops him with a hand on his shoulder. he gives red a pat and he seems to understand what he is signalling, inhaling and exhaling with his eyes closed before fixing his posture to listen to me again.

“you know, I don’t know if I want raph to rough up him or rough up me at this point,” I let out a laugh to try and soften the atmosphere but the expressions of the boys tell me that it didn’t work. they look confused; sad. “a good rough up might fix whatever is wrong with me, because it’s obviously me. look at me! why else would he have made plans to humiliate me like that? what do I need to punch into shape - the way I look? the way I act?” I laugh again with the same intent as earlier despite knowing that it is going to do nothing to lessen the impact of my words.

“did he specifically make you feel like that?” raph says through gritted teeth, “that you’re not good enough?”

“no, I guess I’ve been feeling that way for a while. he just made it worse - a lot worse.” my eyes start to burn again with more tears. I’m surprised I’m not dehydrated yet.

mikey grabs my face in his hands, his eyes also look clouded with tears, “you are so beautiful. really, you are. I remember when I first saw you I was like ‘woah, they’re even prettier than the humans I see on tv!’ you don’t need to change anything about the way you look, I can tell you that for sure.”

“nor do you need to change anything about your personality or how you act,” donnie chimes in. “why do you think we like you so much? you’re awesome! you’re smart, kind, caring, plus you treat us like we’re golden and we’re literally in the sewers right now,” we all giggle at the last statement he makes.

leo pats me on the head, signally me to look up towards him, “you are the greatest friend we could have ever asked for, and if we need to remind you of that more then we will. you deserve to feel that you’re worthy and loved and I can tell you with certainty that you are when you’re here with us. there’s no need to hide from us, we’ve got you’re back.”

raph grabs my hand, “and seriously, if you want us to go and talk to that guy we will.”

“raph!” the others shout. I laugh at the slight panic hiding in their voices - it’s fully directed at their brother and his fists.

“what?! I said talk not bash into the ground so what do you want from me?!”

[dnamoral2]

You. Make Barnaby headcanons. Fluff. Also can I be 🐈‍⬛💫 anon?

OK!! LETS GO, MY FIRST ASK I SOMEHOW DIDNT DELETE ON ACCIDENT- LETS DO THIS

Barnaby fluff head-cannons! + plus angel cat!reader

Barnaby will ether make you nuzzle into his wings, or yours! If yo have wings-

Barnaby WILL make you do the chipi chipi chapa chapa dance…don’t ask how he knows about the dance

Barnaby will try to stick his head through your halo…I don’t know why it just seems like he would do that

Will stretch his neck all the way to you so he can, kiss you, put his head on your lap, lay their head on yours, ect!!!

Will pick you up in any shape and form- he could being putting you on her shoulders or picking you up bridal style-

He will take any sort of blanket and wrap it around himself and you and just cuddle, this can be heavenly in winter and hell In summer, because you probably have 30 blankets on you-

He will lay off partying if your sick and all of that, will have her barnaboos take good care of you

He will hiss and kick out anyone who makes you uncomfortable, annoys you or is just rude- could kill them but that might be going to far for you so he’ll lay off doing that- unless their already dead then they can’t do that

He is super cuddly, clingy, goofy, and romantic, the clingy part is probably because he’s been alone most of his life, don’t blame him!

He will dub you the co owner of the abandoned mansion

Takes you with him to meet his friends from completely different fandoms, Wally[WH], snatcher[AHIT], ect!!

Will get you your favorite foods and or comfort foods for his party’s!

Probably made a toast to you when he first met you!

Probably does the cheers drink to you a lot during party’s

Will gush about you to others, I swear on it-

Can purr and will purr if you show him any sort of affection. Source? TRUST ME BRO-

Will make a party not just for ghosts anymore! Will make them for angels as well!!!

Loves to just pick up into the air and spin you around-

Will put his head on yours and look at what you’re looking at! Curiosity killed the cat- er…owl?- bird? Eh owls are just sky cats-

Will stim when he sees you, my head-cannon is that his little bird feet go up and down, like one foot down and the other up, and then switch- like He’s hopping 

Will fly around with you, just soaring across the sky with his lover casually

If you like cheese cake, he will immediately give it to you- he hates cheesecake so if he has some cheesecake left off from the party he will give it to you

Actually, I feel like he gives you any of the party food that was left over-

Will plop you down onto him to cuddle

Well make happy owls sound, you know he can and will

If he knows your comfortable with it, he will tickle you

Loves to shape shift into things to get laughter out of you

Just loves it when your nice and sweet to the barnaboos

Maybe thinks about adopting a kid with you, if he knows your not good with kids and don’t want any, he probably won’t think about getting a kid at all really-

I don’t know why, but I’m just imagining him just picking you up lion King style and I don’t know why-

Will fluff up his feathers for you, and probably will Preen you wing feathers

THATS ALL I GOT- I hope this is good for ya!! Have a good day

[duplicityvn]

Welcome to Duplicity!

Below you’ll find links to tags and the new itch page (once part 1 releases; tags will be added as they’re posted). You’ll also find some general information about the game and what to expect from here on.

As per usual, this game is a horror romance. It will feature and optional NSFW toggle, and it is not safe for minors. Minors DNI with this blog or the game.

Game development, art, & writing: me, @indycinders

Draft editing and Ideas Chief: @winndycakes

Game Summary:

It’s been several years since you’ve been home, and a lot has changed. After failing to meet the strict deadlines of your former publishing house, your contract was terminated and you were left to fend for yourself. Once a prolific and popular author of romance and adventure stories, you’re now forced to move back home to live in your best friend’s apartment as their roommate. Struggling to figure out the next book in your series, you’re faced with many life-changing events, such as having to go back to work a customer service job you thought you’d left behind.

As you navigate this new chapter in your life, you’ll meet friends, old and new, and perhaps finally experience your own romantic tale… Just don’t trust everyone you meet.

(potential) Tag List:

#duplicityvn - general tag to encompass everything

#duplicitydevlogs - tag for dev-specific posts like progress and updates

#duplicity asks - tag for asks submitted to the blog

#duplicity griffin - Griffin specific tag

#duplicity tris - Tris specific tag

#duplicity taipan - Taipan specific tag

#duplicity dell - Dell specific tag

#duplicity nina - Nina specific tag

#duplicity savoy - Savoy specific tag

#duplicity riley - Riley specific tag

#duplicity melon - Melon specific tag

#duplicity mags - Mags specific tag

#duplicity all - general tag when everyone is involved in one post

#duplicity lore - tag for lore related to characters or settings

Here’s some potential questions I might get that I’m proactively answering now:

Why was the old blog deleted?

-I had a bad experience in the community and wanted to remove myself from it completely. I also had no idea where the game direction was going. Honestly, it started out with me wanting to make a yandere game with no understanding of what was going to happen really.

Why are you continuing with Duplicity?

-Duplicity originally stemmed from vague ideas about a horror romance I had started writing three years ago. Really, only some of the character names were similar. Once I started to feel like I wanted to come back and resume with development, I knew it needed a complete overhaul. So I went back to that old story and started piecing it together so it would work for a visual novel!

What changed and what can we expect?

-In the original demo, the game’s MC was around 20 years old. This has changed to player preference of anywhere between 25-30. Why? Because I’ve been wanting to see older characters in yandere visual novels, and just in VNs in general. I also don’t feel comfortable writing younger characters anymore. The characters’ ages will change depending on yours as well, which will be explained later. The only characters who have set ages are Mags and Melon.

-Speaking of characters, Sophie is no longer part of the story. I didn’t think about it at the time but I don’t want a minor to be included in this story when she’s not directly related to anyone, like a sister or a niece or something. In her place are several new characters: Nina, Savoy, and Melon.

-The game will be released in 3 parts instead of on a day-to-day basis. Part one will be mostly introductory but lengthy, part two will probably be the longest, and part three will mostly be focused on the endings of each route.

-The game will have more than just Griffin’s route. There are currently 9 endings I’m in the process of planning.

-As of the publishing of this post, everything previously known to the game is no longer canon, except for a few things.

What kind of asks can we send?

-Asks pertaining to the game and its characters and settings are all completely fine. In fact, it’ll probably help me develop the characters even better.

-NSFW asks are allowed! While there might not be NSFW in the base game (still juggling around the idea of a paid NSFW version), I am happy to write little fics if people are wanting them. I love writing, give me prompts!

-Hateful, derogatory, or other such topics that are sent to this blog will not be tolerated nor published. I wish to promote a safe space for everyone, and I won’t pay attention to any negativity.

-Silly and nonsensical asks are also allowed if they aren’t negative in context.

Alright this was long lmao but I hope it encompasses the general idea of what to expect from here on out! I’m not putting myself on a publishing schedule and I will update as frequently or as little as I do. I’m an anxious bean and can only do so much.

[soemthingsparkly]

hello! I just finished reading the most recent chapter of your Hermitcraft Coffee Co. fic, and I would LOVE to see the deleted scenes you mentioned in the notes at the beginning of the chapter! I'm loving this AU btw, it's so good! :))

Hi Hi Hi!!!! Just to let you know, I am vibrating with exitement because of this. LET ME FETCH ONE.

AND THANK YOU FOR ENJOYING THE FIC THAT MAKES ME SO HAPPY. :D <33

The Hermit Coffee Co. Chapter 10 Deleted Scene: Short King Squad

“Oh, sorry, my bad, my bad,” he says, and then leans into Mumbo and stage-whispers, “Jeez, these nerdy frat boys are so sensitive.”  

Mumbo slides his gaze towards Grian, to find the man staring back with mischief. 

“I’m not going to bite, G,” he says, causing Grian to break out in a delighted grin.

“Oh, but you want to,” Grian teases. “And that’s almost just as good.”

Mumbo rolls his eyes, which makes Grian laugh again and both are too distracted by each other to notice the look that Tango and Impulse exchange.

[CUT]

Tango reaches over and takes his phone back. “I sketched them up last night after work. It was actually Grian here that inspired me with his little…” Tango wiggled his fingers in the direction of Grian’s wrist. “Friendship bracelet.”

Grian’s expression sours and he tucks both hands under the table. “It’s not a friendship bracelet.”

“But you do match with Jimmy and Joel, don’t you?” Mumbo asks, pressing a finger to his chin. Grian’s eyes glint and the corner of his lips twitch in amusement.

It makes things easier again and the discomfort in Mumbo subsides a little.

Tango is wearing a joyous smile at this interaction. “Aka, bracelets that signify your friendship, also known as… friendship bracelets.”

Grian huffs and rolls his eyes, which makes Mumbo chuckle in delight. Without much prior thought, Mumbo snakes his arm around Grian’s shoulders and pulls him into his side for a brief squeeze.

“It's okay, G, the friendship bracelet isn't embarrassing,” Mumbo says, ruffling his hand through Grian’s mop of styled chestnut locks. “It’s the fact that it says Bad Boy that really makes people cringe.”

Grian cackles at that and Mumbo feels a warm surge of pride, even when Grian pushes him off.

Tango clicks his tongue.

“Actually, Mumbo, Grian, I think you’ll find that cringe culture is dead and the concept of “coolness” is a social construction that exists within the insecure to alienate others."

Impulse takes a sip of his beer and shrugs one shoulder.

“I don’t know, T, that sounds a little like an argument someone uncool might make.”

Grian snickers and Tango points an orange painted fingernail in Impulse’s direction. He grins and says, “Be quiet, or no hoodie for you.”

Impulse mimes locking his lips.

“Careful, mate,” Mumbo says with a wink and returns his arm to resting comfortably on the back of Grian’s chair. “You don't want your custom nerd hoodie on the line.”

“It’s cool to be a nerd now, actually,” Tango mutters, folding his napkin into a neatly tucked triangle.

Zedaph pats his shoulder. “Don’t worry, T, you're almost 30. You don't have to worry about being cool anymore.”

Tango grimaces. “I’m 27! That's not almost 30.”

Grian mock-gasps. “Woah, I didn't realise you were so old, Tango. You don’t look a day over 15.”

Having just taken a sip of his drink, Mumbo quickly brings a hand to his mouth to stop himself from spitting it out or choking.

“When’s your growth spurt due, by the way?” Grian asks and Zedaph barks a laugh at that.

Tango, clearly enjoying himself, jabs an accusing finger in Grian’s direction. “Hey now, don't you start. Where’s your step-stool, shorty?”

“Oh, I leant it to Bdubs.”

“I HEARD THAT,” comes a shout from the other end of the table and that draws a pure cackle of delight from Tango.

“Nice one, G,” he says, swiping a finger across his lower lid, before holding his fist out to Grian.

After the briefest hesitation, Grian leans forward across Mumbo and brushes his knuckles against Tango’s.

He doesn't sit quite so far back on his return and ends up neatly tucked up against Mumbo’s side.

[END]

It's not super polished, but I did enjoy writing Grian and Tango joining forces to bully Bdubs, so I'm very glad you asked to see it :D I hope you enjoyed it!

Thank you for stopping by, it means a lot to me! <3

[avonne-writes]

𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐲 𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬!

Thank you for the tag @swifty-fox 🥰

1. How many works do you have on ao3?

56

2. What's your total ao3 word count?

443,378 ✨️

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Only Masters of the Air at the moment! Previously, HOTD, Heartstopper, Drarry, Marvel, BoB (on my old account).

4. Top five fics by kudos

Cascade (Drarry) - 5,658 kudos

Once and Never Again (Drarry) - 4,523 kudos

Desire Lines (Heartstopper) - 4,255 kudos

Reminisce (Heartstopper) - 3,778 kudos

Baby News (Drarry) - 2,858 kudos

5. Do you respond to comments?

I try to respond to every comment. I really appreciate all of them, they mean the world to me ❤️ I wasn't able to keep responding to everything on some of my old stories in huge fandoms. 😔

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I usually write happy endings, but I have two fics where the main couple ends up separated by distance. They swear to keep the relationship alive, but who knows. The saddest of the two is probably Scorpion Grass (Loki/Mobius fic).

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Reverie 🥰✨️ The war is over, they reconnect in body and soul, they love each other and are planning a future together. The ending they deserved!

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Usually not, but the HOTD fandom was astonishingly toxic and almost killed my love for writing. They left hate on almost everyone’s fics. Sometimes I consider deleting my HOTD fics because they don’t bring me good feelings anymore because of this.

9. Do you write smut?

Do I! Writing it as we speak 😉 When it comes to smut, I usually write porn with feelings.

10. Craziest crossover?

I wrote a crossover between HOTD and The Last Kindom: A Red Dawn Rises

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Yes, in the HOTD fandom. But managed to sort it out with the other person.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes, 4 so far! 😊 Thank you so much to the lovely people who translated them.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Not yet, but @hogans-heroes and I have a fic idea that we might do one day.

14. All time favorite ship?

Hard to choose, but I'll say Clegan. They're a beautiful pairing, a balm to my soul.

15. What's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

None at the moment. There’s one on my old account (a Speirton post-war fic) that I wish I finished but I don't even remember what I wanted to write there.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Setting descriptions, sensuality and hurt/comfort 😊

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Period-typical dialogue, not enough focus on side characters

18. Thoughts on dialogue in another language?

If our POV character isn't supposed to understand it, I like it when the translation is at the bottom, otherwise I prefer the translation right after the line or the entire dialogue in English, but stating that they used another language.

19. First fandom you wrote in?

I think it was Harry Potter with my brother 😂 We didn’t even know what fanfic was, just wanted Marauders stories.

20. Favorite fic you've written?

Reverie! ❤️ I'm very happy with it and can clearly see the improvement compared to my older stories. I also love Cascade (Drarry fic).

This was a fun way to reflect on my writing, I don't do this often. I'm tagging @hogans-heroes @stereobone and @nicijones if they want to do it 😊

[sammy8d257]

(re-asking because i think the old one was deleted?)

okay so i might have kidnapped mk!purple and turned them into a dragon

they bit my finger off, i don’t want them anymore

*dragon-mk!purple has challenged you to a staring contest*

Hi Fantarules! Your first ask wasn't deleted, I just wasn't able to get around to answering it because,

Well, I wanted to do this for it.

I hope you enjoy it >8)c

-( | )-

Cries of the Changed An AvM Mad King Au ficlet

Written by Sammy8D257 Inspired by @fantarules677 's Dragon MK!Purple art

Word Count: 703

CW: Descriptions of painful transformations, Human/Stick turned Animal, Body Horror, Wish for death (in response to pain), Hurt No Comfort

Summary: Purple has been feeling off for a long time. (Not canon to the main AU. Think of this as more of an AU of an AU)

[AvM Mad King AU Masterpost]

-( | )-

Purple has been feeling… off, for a long time.

Not like a headache off, though at the beginning it did feel that way, but an off that seeps into one's very core. An off that feels like something is squirming just below the surface. A writhing, slow, crawl too deep to scratch out.

Purple has been feeling this way for a long time.

They don't remember when it started. 

Was it when the pain behind their eyes doubled, tripled, in intensity before fading into a dull but persistent throb? Was it when their nails grew and sharpened into razor? Not claws. Never claws. Purple was a stick figure and stick figures had rounded hands and nails. Was it when their back tensed one day and never relaxed? They were never one to workout but they could swear layers of muscle were forming underneath their elytra straps. 

Was it when Purple no longer had to look up to talk to King MT? They were not yet as tall as the former king, their eyes level to his mouth, but height never mattered when the other was already cowering at their feet.

Or maybe it was when, after months of peace and established normalcy, one voice in a sea of thousands whispered so sweetly into the empty air of the void;

╎'ᒲ ʖ𝙹∷ᒷ↸

At the end of the day, it does not matter.

Purple does not know when it started.

But they do know it will not end well. 

Not for them. Never for them.

So here Purple stands, at the edge of an incomplete bridge. The Endermen had not yet finished connecting one tower to the other, the yellow end stone several feet below them. It didn't matter. Purple wanted to come out here to check on the progress. 

Something, anything, to feel normal.

Their stomach felt twisted, a pain worse than their inability to keep down regular food. Their muscles burned, it twitched underneath skin in unnatural ways. Their entire head ached, from their jaws to their teeth to their eyes to everything inside their skull. The dull throb now a war drum in their ears.

So here Purple stands, the spitting image of misery. 

And here Purple falls, their mind so distracted by pain that they don't notice when they start to tip.

And here Purple lands, a sickening cRACK on the cold stone below. 

Before the shock can even register, like a chain reaction, their body twists and convulses.

Skin rips, muscles tear, bones snap. The scream that bubbles to their lips does get to form before their jaw is cracked and broken.

It's agony. They're on fire. They're dying.

They're getting bigger. Dimly through their pain blurred mind, there's a horrible realization they're changing.

And it's agony.

Their muscles are reconnecting, their skin is sewing back together, their bones are reforming.

Purple does not know when it will end. They hope it's soon.

They hope they're dead by the end. But they know they won't be.

How cruel.

. . . 

. .

.

ᔑ ↸∷ᔑ⊣𝙹リ?

∴ᒷ ᔑ⊣∷ᒷᒷ↸ 𝙹リ ᔑリ ᒷリ↸ᒷ∷ᒲᔑリ

ʖ⚍ℸ ̣  ↸∷ᔑ⊣𝙹リᓭ ᔑ∷ᒷ ᒲ⚍ᓵ⍑ ᒲ𝙹∷ᒷ ╎リℸ ̣ ᒷ∷ᒷᓭℸ ̣ ╎リ⊣

ᔑꖎ∷╎⊣⍑ℸ ̣  ꖎᒷℸ ̣  ⚍ᓭ ᓭᒷᒷ ⍑𝙹∴ ℸ ̣ ⍑╎ᓭ !¡ꖎᔑ||ᓭ 𝙹⚍ℸ ̣

.

. .

. . .

Time passes. It must have.

Purple lifts their head out of a puddle of spit, blood, and an unidentifiable black oil.

Everything still hurts but their mind is clearer than it's been in a long time.

Their head feels heavy. Their entire body feels heavy. 

Wearily, they lift a hand to their face and is greeted with a sharp pain on their cheek. 

A confused growl erupts from their throat. Eyes wide, they stare down at their hand.

Not a hand. A claw.

A claw with sharpened black talons and familiar purple scales. 

They whip around, their head heavy with a muzzle. Their back heavy with wings. Their hips heavy with a tail.

A shock of purple in the spit and blood and black oil puddle draws their attention.

With their head bowed low, Purple stares at the reflection in the shiny liquid.

Their reflection.

And they roar, high pitched, scared, and mourning.

-( | )-

Miles away, resting on an obsidian pillar, the Ender Dragon lifts her head and echos the call.

[grey-and-green]

Good Omens S3 possibilities?

These are not predictions, or even really based on any actual evidence. Just thoughts that I’ve been thinking about.

In no particular order:

I would like to see more pre-The Beginning scenes. Specifically, the battle and the Fall. Something about how Crowley said "I remember going into battle" has just stuck with me and I want to SEE IT. (also, they got Benedict Cumberbatch to voice Satan in S1, and I feel like we deserve to see a proper bumblebee cumberbumble cameo).

I want to see how Aziraphale influencing the car/the car not being fully Crowley's anymore plays out. Angsty side of me would actually quite like to see the car refusing to play Queen and repeatedly giving us "Nightengales" to the point where Crowley lashes out and destroys the car. Would be peak breakup angst. Fully devastating.

What happens if Hell asks Crowley back now? I’m not sure they actually want him back, but what if he pulls a OFMD finale Kraken move and goes full demon. Heart broken, rejected, unloved, unforgivable: might as well prove them all right by finally being the evil demon they all told me I was when I wasn’t good enough for them.

(Right, now I’m picturing Crowley blowing up the Bentley and saying “fuck God and fuck Humanity” and going full feral. I don’t actually want this, but it’s not unlikely)

I really don't want a sex scene. I don't even want another kiss. I want there to be long, desperate hugs and intimate cuddles, but I want it to read comfort and safety rather than lust.

I think we're going to see more of 1941. I think what people have noted about the Nightengale song coming out around then is very likely relevant, as is the fact that this is the only footage we see twice. A long flashback in S1, expanded on in S2. I feel like this is going to come back again in S3. Whether it's to see more of that night specifically (like what happened to the photo and who took it home to stare at for 80 years) or whether we'll see the next day/week because when, on that night, would Aziraphale have had time to do the I Was Wrong dance?

I want more Muriel. Like, a lot more. They saw the bookshop breakup, and they looked pretty shook the first time we see them through the window. I want to see how they grow and learn on Earth when they're very likely not being supervised by any other angels. How long will Crowley sulk outside before he’s invited in/overcome with the urge to help Muriel?

I would like to see one or both of our main babes growing facial hair. I know we don't really see that much on angels or demons but it would be delightful to see. Equally, I would like to see one or both of our main babes full femme-presenting.

Something I don’t actually want, but well within the realm of possibility: not just memory erasure by Heaven, but intentional self-deletion as a coping mechanism. Thinking Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind here. Think, “I’m erasing you and I’m happy!” (spoiler: they’re not happy).

I will probably keep adding to this as I rewatch Season 2 a few dozen more times.

[superfluffychickens]

Animal death mention TW

It’s been less than two days since poor Daisy died, and I just need to get all my thoughts out. She was such a sweet little thing, when she was a tiny chick she was the friendliest of the bunch, and would just sit on my hand. She grew up to be docile enough that she ended up at the bottom of the pecking order, but I always made sure to make sure she got treats while the other chickens would try to hog them all. Now she’s gone, I just hope she didn’t suffer.

To be honest it really hurts to see the post I made with a picture of her, just like a week ago, still being reblogged, because it just reminds me I’ll never see her again. But there’s not much I can do to stop it, since deleting the post won’t get rid of it from other blogs. That happens with photos of some of my other birds who have passed away, it makes me so sad.

But the other birds still need me, and I’ve got to keep going for their sake. What I think happened was, a part of the fence was sagging and some of the stakes were loose. A few of the pullets jumped over the fence, I don’t know how long they were out by themselves. Then something came and snatched Daisy away. I ran out to find Cricket and Stella outside the fence. I looked all over to make sure Daisy hadn’t gotten away and hidden somewhere, but the trail of feathers stopped. I won’t be letting them out without supervision anymore, that’s for sure.

My parents and I are working on getting either a covered run or an electric fence - I’d prefer a covered run of some sort since clearly the pullets are able to clear the 4ft fence I have now, so they might be able to jump an electric fence too. I actually got a painting commission from my aunt, which should help pay for some of that. Also, I’m thinking of rehoming Jack’s flock once they’re done molting. I feel bad that they can’t go out and are stuck in their little run, but they don’t get along with any of the birds in Zeke’s flock. And they’re all afraid of me. But it’s a decision I’ll need to think on for a while, I’m not in a great mental state after all. But in the future, I only want to have one flock.

Also, I’ve been trying to communicate better with my parents in regards to my needs. My autism diagnosis puts a lot of stuff into perspective, and I feel a bit more comfortable asking for help and admitting I can’t do something alone. I think I need more help in my life, like help maintaining my house and keeping it clean, keeping up with chores and appointments and stuff, etc. I guess it’s just different now that I know why I struggle with these things. I applied for SSI/disability, but it’ll be a long time before that’s processed.

For the meantime, life goes on whether you want it to or not. The rest of the youngsters are quickly maturing, now it seems most of the rest of them will start laying soon. Someone laid an egg with a paper-thin shell today and it broke, it was probably due to the stress of seeing Daisy get taken. They still need looking after so I keep going on. I’m gonna start the painting - which is of chickens - that my aunt commissioned from me today, painting is a great way to get feelings out.

[fortunatelycooltrash]

hello! sorry if this is annoying and feel free to ignore me if this is a question you get a lot but I was curious if you are the author of "The Judge's choice" on AO3.

I was feeling nostalgic a few days ago and wanted to re-read the fics that got me into fanfiction in the first place so imagine my surprise when I can't seem to find this fic in my bookmarks nor on the author's ao3 page. Anyhow, long story short, I went on a 4 hour investigation spree looking for the fic and stumble upon this post on your blog (https://www.tumblr.com/fortunatelycooltrash/190283589313/where-can-i-find-the-fanfic?source=share) that seemingly has the link i'm searching for but when I enter it doesn't work. So yeah, I think the work might be deleted and I wanted to know whether it was conscious choice on your part because this fic meant a lot to me and it would be a pity for it to be lost but at the same time I respect if that is your final decision for whatever reason (you already provided so many great works to the site that I can't really ask for more, y'know?).

I know this is old and that what I’m about to say is somewhat not relevant to your ask but it will answer your questions and hopefully anyone else that travels over from my ao3 account.

While I don’t plan to permanently be away, hardly anyone ever does. I didn’t shut off my laptop one day and decide I hated my stories and didn’t want to write them anymore, but life has a funny way of making writing funky cat stories sit on the back burner and then you turn around and it’s been years. The troubles I mentioned in my notes were not the worst ones to come and they never quite ended, there’s always a fire to put out somewhere and usually it burns out my motivation before I can put it out.

While I do understand people loved the story, the truth is that I really, really, don’t and I hate that stupid 15yr old me put it out for everyone to read without even polishing it. Even when I tried to revamp it, it would essentially be rewriting it which was too big a project for me to take on with everything else in my life.

It’s writing is bad to me and it embarrasses me for it to be public in any form, hence why comments that try and post links to downloaded versions or the way back machine are deleted from any other work they comment on. I can’t stop people from having these and, frankly, I don’t mind whoever has them having them <privately> but I prefer it to not be posted all over a Small Flame or A Snuffed Spark which are works that I was actually kind of proud of.

I know the intent is not malicious or disrespectful but to me it is. If I wanted the fic all over my profile, even when I’ve stepped away from it, I’d not have taken it down. The works I’m comfortable with being public are the ones I’ve allowed to stay up.

If you have a copy of it, or can find a copy of it, that does not bother me but please do not post it on my other works. I don’t want it on my profile or reposted on the site at this moment.

I may rewrite it someday into something more polished and, for god’s sake, <spell checked> but for now that project is the last thing on my mind. I’d most likely continue A small flame before anything else.

[thefanficwriterscraft]

Loved this week’s new episode! I’m definitely guilty of putting short fics (<1k words) into a singular story instead of a series (though it’s all the same ship/universe). I’ve actually been struggling with the idea of continuing to do this or not but get caught up with 2 things:

1. The thought of having them ALL as individual stories on my page stresses me out from an organizational standpoint. And

2. I wish AO3 had a way to split a work, because I don’t want to lose the comments attached to each chapter/fic by deleting and reposting since I didn’t have the foresight to originally post them as separate entities. (Though with this option then you also run the risk of spamming everyone who’s subscribed to you on ao3).

And I guess also adding on to this and the ao3 improvements mentioned, I’d love if there was a way for an author to highlight their favorite works, because otherwise if you have an author who writes a lot of short works, they add up and things get buried 150 fics deep.

Sorry for the massive drop in the inbox 😅 This has been something on my mind for awhile and the episode just brought it all back. Thanks for all the work you put into the podcast!

Thank you so much, and our apologies for the delayed response as I (pebblysand) was on holidays. So glad you enjoyed the discussion!

Regarding your first point, I can't help/relate, because I think honestly, the opposite would stress me out haha! Having all of my one-shots bundled as one instead of individual stories would drive me nuts! I would feel that is disorganised 😅.

Having said that, I want to be clear that I do think it is legit to do this in some circumstances. For example, from 2015 to 2018, I wrote a bunch of three sentence stories in different fandoms, ships, etc. as a writing exercise. I mostly posted them on their own on tumblr, but ended up bundling them when I uploaded them to AO3 years later. I bundled up together in one fic all the ones that were for the same fandom (so there was one big fic for TGW, and one for silk), then created a series to link them together. The TGW "fic" had multiple ships so I created one chapter for each ship, which I tried to indicate as clearly as I could in the summary.

I think the same thing applies if you're writing multiple short-ish (less than 3k) one-shots in the same pairing/ship/universe. Like: if, say, you're writing post-war Dramione, you have a vision for that universe and all of your one-shots are coherent with that universe and with each other. But again, I do think it's important to consider the fact that it may cause people to rec your work less. Because they might like one story but not the others, and so instead of reccing one chapter, they might just rec nothing at all.

I think it depends on your comfort level for this. For me regarding my own series what comes in threes, I didn't care because a) I published these on AO3 years after I published them on tumblr, and it was more about archiving them than promoting the work, as these stories were very old and I wasn't writing in these fandoms anymore, and b) both of these were in fandoms where reccing isn't the main way people find fanfic. I've mentioned this on the pod before but there is a massive difference in the way people find fics in big fandoms that are too massive to search (tags, rec lists, bookmarks, etc.) and small fandoms where you can just refresh the front page each day and find stuff. TGW and silk are small enough that I knew anyone reading fanfiction for these would be trolling the front page, and thus see the fic as it was published and be able to decide for themselves if they wanted to take a look or not.

Regarding your second point though, I feel you! I haven't talked about it on the podcast but I've been going through a similar struggle of my own with my long work. Castles has three very clear "acts" that are around 100k each. I didn't anticipate this early on and posted all three acts in one fic, and am now very stressed/nervous that it's making this fic too long for people to read. I would love to be able to retroactively split it, but I also, like you, don't want to lose the comments. I really wish there was a way to do this! 😫

And to your third point, I very much agree. I don't have that problem as I mostly write longer pieces but yeah, I get you!

Thanks again for your kind words and for taking the time to write to us! It's amazing to know our little podcast isn't just going out and falling into the ether, and that people are listening!