#but i am sure ai probably thought it wrote that too

[reallygroovyninja]

I saw an article about a Texas A&M professor failing a bunch of students, saying the papers they wrote were AI generated. I was like, Hmm, let me play around.

So, I put my story into chatgpt, and it said, AI wrote that. I went over to AO3 and grabbed Don't Wanna Be Your Girl by Faithtastic (I had that bookmarked). It said that was AI generated. I decided, let's really try something, so I went and grabbed an old Xena fic from the late 1990s, and you guessed it, the AI said it wrote that too.

I asked the AI how it could tell something was AI generated and this was the response:

As an AI language model, I can recognize text generated by AI based on patterns and characteristics in the language and structure of the writing. The response you provided exhibits typical traits of AI-generated text, including coherent and grammatically correct sentences, a consistent narrative flow, and a lack of personal experiences or emotions. While I cannot provide an absolute certainty, the indications strongly suggest that the text was generated by an AI model like me.

It got me to thinking, is this because the AI scrapes so much of the web that it now thinks it wrote everything? Its reasoning for how it determines something is AI generated is quite flawed for obvious reasons. Are we going to see more real world repercussions because the AI can’t figure out what it did or what a human did?  

[somegrumpynerd]

HEY. POINTS FINGER… any thoughts on how everyone reacted when the other joined the team? as in how did killer react when dust came, how did he and dust react when horror came, how did they all react when cross came, etc. i love love LOVE your bad sanses thoughts way too much they make me so happy. if i write hurt you write comfort and it’s awesome. also how do you think they slowly started to get closer? just.. bah give me your thoughts on them!!!! any thoughts!!!!!!!!!

You fool!! You’ve given me a chance to ramble about my special little guys and now this post will stretch on forever!! Mwahahahahah >:3c

No but seriously this is probably gonna be wicked long cause I have 1 million thoughts about these guys joining and meeting each other so uh, readmore for everybody’s safety and sanity

(^ I wrote that in the document before I started typing out my actual thoughts and uh

yeah no kidding, this is like a fucking essay so proceed with caution)

OKAY SO

I’ve said before that Nightmare got Dust for two reasons; one being that Dream had just recently started working with Ink (and soon Blue) so he and Killer were no longer able to gang up on Dream. He wanted somebody else to bulk up their numbers and give Killer a little back up. He also was starting to realise that Killer didn’t handle being alone very well, since this was when he most often got worked up and broke things around the castle (and sometimes tipped over into stage 3). Dust would be a perfect fit since he had the same amount of lvl and fighting experience as Killer, and since they were so close in circumstance they would be practically like brothers right?

The irony that he thought this about a guy he was recruiting to help kill his brother was apparently lost on him.

They absolutely hated each other. Like, it was instant. Killer saw him as a replacement, why would boss go out and get another sans - one with almost the same backstory as me - when I’m right here? Does he think I’m not good enough? Am I disposable and this is the backup for when I die in combat? He didn’t take it well. He took it all out on Dust too, not cooperating in battle, trying to start fights in the castle, etc. He couldn’t outright kill him because Nightmare had given him strict orders not to, but Killer loves a loophole. If he roughed Dust up down to 1hp and something else happened to finish him off, technically he’d followed orders.

Dust just straight up didn’t want to be there. Nightmare just showing up and yoinking him had worked fine with Killer, but Dust had wanted to sit in his empty au and die, he had no intention of joining a team or doing work of any kind - good or bad. The only reason he didn’t just lie down and refuse the entire time was that he had to fight back against Killer, as much as he wanted to die he refused to give this ass the satisfaction or lvl. He didn’t intend to be any help out in the field either, but again, Killer was making sure he got fired at so he had to retaliate to stay alive.

Eventually it got bad enough that Nightmare had to pull Killer aside and demand answers. In the year or so of knowing him Killer had never willfully disobeyed orders before, so Nightmare needed to know what had gotten into him. He dispelled the replacement rumour right away, he still wasn’t quite softened up enough to be sappy about it but he made sure Killer understood what a good worker he was and that Nightmare had no intention of losing him. It didn’t help a lot, they still hated each other for other reasons, but it eased a little.

Killer still had pretty frequent dips into stage 3, except now he would go straight for Dust usually. Nightmare had tried to explain what he’d learned about it to Dust, but he didn’t really believe that it wasn’t just Killer deciding to try and kill him for funsies. He only accepted it after a particular episode where he attacked Nightmare instead, which Dust knew Killer wouldn’t try in his right mind.

After he came back to his senses he sought Dust out. The air around Killer was very different after a stage 3, sort of sombre and almost calm, so Dust let them sit together and Killer apologised for giving him such a hard time. They actually talked for the first time in months while Killer was still calm (or tolerable, as Dust describes it), and it didn’t magically fix everything but, things were a little better. They still fought and argued and bothered each other but it wasn’t as sharp, there was a lack of real murderous intent in it all, and sometimes after an episode they would talk a little bit. It was the best Nightmare was going to get for now, so he took it.

They were still completely incompetent about taking care of themselves though. Neither of them would eat unless prompted and Nightmare didn’t have good enough knowledge of mortals to know when that should be to stop them passing out from hunger on the job. Not to mention the stars were now a full team, and with the way Killer and Dust would sometimes rather target each other on the field he could do with more backup.

Horror was the first of the group to get a choice in joining. Nightmare had taken note of how much Dust didn’t want to be part of things, and while it was in his best interests in the long run given his situation, Horror’s au was still mostly intact - though a little in disrepair. Horror was also the first in the group to have a good (and ongoing) relationship with his brother, so Nightmare knew he couldn’t just pop in and steal him, he had to be a bit more diplomatic with this one and offer a deal.

He gave Horror some time to think on his proposal - he would set up regular deliveries of food to Horror’s au in exchange for him joining their team - and was quite surprised when Horror agreed, with some stipulations. Horror was equally surprised when Nightmare agreed so easily to his terms (that he didn’t want his brother to know what he’d be doing, and that he wouldn’t kill). A little down the line the terms were altered to add that he would also be left to visit his au every week or so.

Horror was not impressed meeting the other two. He didn’t need his power as judge anymore to sense the lvl coming off them both, and given who they were working for he was instantly distrustful of them both (the uh, brother situation did not help). He was also in a place that had an abundance of food for the first time in probably years, so he was doing a lot of going hog wild in the kitchen and then getting very sick as a result.

Dust didn’t particularly feel anything for him. This guy hated him, sure, but it wasn’t forward and slashy like with Killer, it was just quiet loathing which was fine. That’s how Dust felt about himself so, y’know, mood. He did kind of feel sorry for him though, not just because of the whole famine and everything, but also because he was watching this guy eat like his life depended on it and then get sick and undo it day after day. He was the one who suggested Horror getting his food in moderation to Nightmare, which did help but was an absolute ordeal to enforce. Y’know how some people get hangry? Imagine that but you haven’t had a proper meal in years and now these people give you tiny amounts of food and don’t let you eat more for hours. The hunger mood swings were a sight to behold, you would never have guessed in those days that Horror specified not wanting to kill.

When his ability to eat had evened out and he was in better shape, Horror made a point of apologising to Dust for being aggressive with him. Over time he’d kind of softened up on him from his initial impression, since he could see plainly how wracked with guilt Dust was over his situation. It was a little easier to imagine that whatever he’d done was truly out of desperation and not just for fun, as Horror had assumed at first sight. 

They also both retained that classic sans laziness, so it was easy for them to share a space while saying and doing nothing. It made Horror the first person that Dust willingly spent time around in the castle (and vice versa since Horror was still largely suspicious of Nightmare and Killer - the deal seemed too good to be true and the stage 3 episodes didn’t help). As time went on, Horror kind of became Dust’s emotional support skeleton in a way. Dust had become quite averse to touch in his solitude and Horror very slowly brought him back out with casual gentle touches, until not only did he no longer freeze or stiffen at being grabbed but Dust would seek him out to flop next to on the couch. Horror claimed it was just returning the favour for helping with his eating situation, but really it was nice to have something resembling a friend here.

Killer, for his part, was going through This is My Replacement 2: Electric Boogaloo. Not to the same degree as with Dust, since Horror was quite a bit different, but Killer was still wary of this new addition. He didn’t really instigate anything though since, to be honest, Horror had the intimidation factor. He was like a foot taller than both of them, he had a cracked skull and completely different magic and it seemed like every time Killer saw him he was eating bread like a wolf eats a deer. So while he was going through his food moderating, Killer mostly just stayed quiet and kept his distance.

Horror had not softened on him like he had with Dust, since Killer didn’t openly show remorse. He still watched him with distrust, especially after seeing the way he scrapped with Dust for seemingly no reason other than for violence’s sake. Killer was still mostly targeting Dust in his stage 3s, but Horror had to be careful to stay out of his way since he was still working with much lower hp than the other two. What did start to convince him was seeing how similar Killer and Dust were after a stage 3 episode. Once Killer was slightly more composed (ie stopped crying), he became so tired and quiet and blunt about things he normally joked his way around. It was a little startling, but also started to bring Horror around to the idea that Killer might regret his actions too, just buried under several layers of whatever the hell is also wrong with him at any given time.

Killer and Horror only really started interacting after talking about Dust. Killer was asking how he got Dust to like him since he seems to hate everyone and everything else, Horror told him very pointedly it was because he wasn’t trying to kill Dust. Killer admitted he wasn’t trying to kill Dust, at least not anymore, he just wanted to fight for fun. It opened up a better channel of understanding, knowing that Killer did not actually have murderous intent behind his swings (stage 3 notwithstanding). It made it easier for Horror to occasionally get involved in the roughhousing which Killer delighted in, knowing that the other two knew how to hold back enough to keep him from dusting.

Speaking of stage 3, it was around this time that Killer and Dust made a very important deal. After a particularly rough episode with a little too close of a call, Killer showed up in Dust’s room and begged him shakily to make a promise - that if he ever got too out of control during one of his stages, Dust would kill him. He’d been told over and over by Nightmare that it was impossible for Killer to hurt him since he was immortal, but now there were more people around him where that wasn’t the case, and he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he came out of a stage and found himself alone. Dust promised.

It’s also worth mentioning that, once they were all close enough to be on speaking terms, Horror started bullying the shit out of these two about eating. Now that Horror knew neither of them were going to kill him, he felt safe enough to pick them up by the scruff and set them at the table to say they weren’t leaving until they had at least a snack. He let them pick what they would eat - he wasn’t that cruel about it - but he had to see them eat at least 3 times a day or they would hear about it.

It was by no means perfect or regular, but after about half a year Nightmare finally had henchmen who ate food and worked together (mostly).

Now here’s the problem… I still haven’t really figured out how or why Cross joined the team. Like, obviously there’s some kind of point in the events of underverse where it splits off into an alternate timeline, but I haven’t really figured out where yet so. Leave that one with me just a little longer. Cross joins.

Nightmare really truly didn’t intend to take anyone else in. They were (mostly) getting along, they were pretty well matched to fight the stars, he had no need of more mortals.

…but he was also pretty soft at this point. Every one of them had taken a blow to his I’m immortal I’m an island I don’t get attached to others persona and he’d gotten pretty damn fond of them all. This was why when he felt the sheer weight of loneliness radiating off of Cross, he just couldn’t bring himself to leave him.

So Cross entered the castle. 

He did not particularly intend to stay or make friends, he was trying to get his world back and nothing more. He even revealed a little down the line that he outright refused to kill, and was quite surprised to find that Nightmare was fine with that. At the start he was polite but not friendly with the others and mostly kept to himself.

Dust, as is often the case, did not really have an opinion. Another new guy, this one was self sufficient and didn’t bother him so he had no reason to get involved. He was content to be in the same room as Cross but didn’t start up any conversations.

Horror felt the need to speak to Cross, since Dust would happily stay silent for years and Killer was, well, Killer. Horror was somehow the closest thing to normal they had, so he was the one that made small talk. Mostly asking what Cross would like for meals and encouraging him to pick something he liked when he got the answer of “anything is fine”. As Cross settled in a bit more and actually opened up, they bonded over being the only two to enjoy food. Horror made a point of adding chocolate to the stock they kept in the kitchen and making tacos here and there for Cross.

Horror was also the first Cross kind of warmed to, mostly because he was the one devoid of lvl and Nightmare had mentioned he’d also said he wouldn’t kill. Learning a little about his au’s situation only softened Cross to him more, especially seeing that he still cared a lot for his brother and was trying to protect his home (even if Cross found it unthinkable that he lived away from it). It was through Horror that he also got accustomed to Dust, how being quiet and distant was kind of his default and that he also felt deeply haunted by the loss of his world. They weren’t exactly friends, but it was comfortable enough.

So now boss had taken in another new person, someone who takes orders like a soldier and fights with knives and ruthless precision and aims to be his righthand man, and Killer was ecstatic. By now he’d mostly put his fears of being disposable behind him, Nightmare had gotten a bit less subtle in showing how important they all were to him and Killer felt confident he wouldn’t be replaced. Which was a little bit funny, because the only guy he didn’t feel threatened by was the one who absolutely competed for his spot.

Cross needed to prove he was useful, he had to feel like he earned his keep and that all the training and suffering he’d done was for a reason. When Nightmare sent them on missions, Cross aimed to be the fastest and the most efficient and to report to Nightmare without question. Horror and Dust looking on would have expected Killer to see this 100% as a threat to his position as (self proclaimed) Nightmare’s second in command, and to go for this guy’s throat when nobody else was around.

But Killer was fascinated. Cross was completely different from any of them, bar Nightmare whose au is a whole different kettle of fish, so he had a certain element of unpredictability to him. Horror and Dust were both based on classic sans just like him, so to a certain degree he knew how they would feel about most things and what they might say, the only differences being in what they had experienced through their own timelines. Cross was based on a swap sans and his au had taken wild twists and turns away from usual events, so Killer had to learn everything about him by poking and prodding for answers or observing from a distance, much like back when it was just him and Nightmare. Cross was something new to be studied and Killer loved taking notes.

Cross did not see this as friendly. He was competing with Killer for approval, not realising Killer was playing their contest like a game. When he saw Cross training he would jump in to spar for fun, but Cross saw his rival trying to get a jump on him and take him out of the running. When Killer would hang around and pester Cross in their off time with questions, it didn’t seem like someone taking interest, it seemed like someone being nosy and looking for weaknesses to exploit. When Horror mentioned that Killer was being surprisingly contained and friendly, Cross really thought he was fucking with him.

The first time Cross was willing to even consider this was the case was when his locket came loose on the field and Killer ran back to find it, since one of the notes he’d taken was how the locket wasn’t something Cross would play about (the same as Horror with food). It didn’t make sense for someone who was seriously competing to have him kicked out to just hand his necklace back, no ransoms or attempts to crush it to upset him, just some vague remark about “owing him one” and then right back to Nightmare for orders.

Cross had to give him something of a chance after that, Horror helped a lot by telling him “he doesn’t want to hurt you, he just doesn’t know how to be normal”. It was mostly a playful jab at Killer, but reframing their interactions changed it significantly for Cross. Now they were sparring playfully and having friendly competition on jobs. He wasn’t as put off when Killer went into stage 3 because he knew he could match him in combat and the others were always on hand to help restrain or distract him. Cross also took note of how Killer calmed down a lot for physical touch, not unlike how Dust had warmed up to Horror. It went a long way into not only making him a little less combative for attention every day, but it seemed to put longer stretches between his episodes (which Cross had also started tracking so they wouldn’t be caught out by them as much).

For his part, Killer has disobeyed instructions in the past to benefit Cross, usually ignoring the task to help him if he’s hurt. He’s also given Nightmare nudges towards praising him because he’s noted that that’s what Cross needs in the same way he needs touch (not that Nightmare doesn’t praise them normally, but when Cross is going through it and needs something). He also doesn’t particularly like chocolate but has made a point of not admitting this to Horror so he can give his chocolate to Cross.

(It’s also worth noting that Cross is the only one, besides Nightmare, that has been to Horror’s au. He offered to help out during the food delivery and got to meet Horror’s Papyrus (who he is a little intimidated by but ultimately friendly with, even though it’s a little weird since he’s a good bit different from his own Papyrus). Dust and Killer can’t really visit for a few reasons, mostly because everyone will notice their lvl immediately and know what they’ve done. Dust especially doesn’t know how he would react to having a Papyrus in front of him again and doesn’t want to put Horror's family at risk to find out. Whenever he visits, his Papyrus asks about Cross now and sometimes tries to make tacos for him (key word tries, he’s still a Papyrus after all). He may have joked that seeing Cross sometimes is “like having another brother but younger and less lazy” and when Horror told him this Cross may or may not have cried.)

And that’s where we are now!

They’re a very strange group who’ve been through some inexplicable events and have all changed each other in one way or another. And whether or not it can be admitted, they are a family c:

Now onto how Nightmare was made emotionally open by each of them!! In this essay I will no just kidding could you imagine this is already like 7 pages long

If you got to the end of this post please drink some water and get yourself a snack

[circusgamer]

"Meaningful digital experiences"

The Amazing Digital Circus, showtime (Caine x Pomni) fanfiction.

A/N: Hello! This is my first time releasing something I wrote to public sight, so I'm pretty nervous haha. I am also not really sure about how to tag this, since I never used Tumblr for doing a post for my writing, so if there is a tag I should use, or anything else I should do, please tell me! Or even just a typo! I may be cringe but I am free. I will avoid using the general tags such as "tadc" and "the amazing digital circus" to avoid flooding the screen with a wall of text nobody asked for lmao.

Chapter one: Pondering

Another day at the circus, Caine thought. Another artificial morning in this simulation of a dreamy, digital-life, he thought, if AIs can think like people. Well, Caine could. He is, after all, probably the most advanced technology in the world. What can't he achieve in his little world of his?

Naturally, understand humans. Flesh beings work different, an incomprehensible algorithm, an enigma he can't solve, yet has to try. And so, another morning comes, and the circus keeps existing, with him inside, and everyone trapped.

What is it that keeps calling for them in the world behind the screen? What is it that makes them prefer a limited world to his circus? Is there something that can't be emulated? There must be, this world is utopic! But, why does everyone feel this dread inside this place? What is it that calls them and makes them want to go home? Oh, that bastard attachment, that ridiculous desire that drives them insane, that can't let them accept this world as theirs! It hurts them, it kills them, it destroys them! And yet they keep coming back to it, they can't let it leave, they must come back to where they once where. But why? Neither of them seems to know why! It's there, and it ends them before they can end it, no matter how much he tries to help!

What is that tie, stronger than their own creations?

Something intrinsic to humanity is what they have, something that he can't comprehend, something that will always call back for them. Foreign, dangerous, but at the end of the day, human. Human in a way he can't comprehend, human in a way he isn't, human in a way...

...

He looked through the window: the sun was there. Even though days don't actually exist, it is still there, smiling and bright. He doesn't remember creating it. If he is not mistaken, the sun has always been there. The moon has too, and Circus itself. He just knows he has a purpose. Everything he created after that is in order to achieve it.

Purpose...

What is the human purpose? Do they have one? He just knows they must survive in there the most time possible, but... What is a human purpose? Do they have one? Are they designated with one? Like him? No, they are the ones that give everything a purpose! They give purpose to sleeping in a world where they do not need it! They give purpose to the adventures! They give purpose to the circus!

Purpose... A purpose, that's all that he needs to find for them. But how can he give them a purpose, him not being human himself?

Ha, he is just running in circles, isn't he? This all come back to one thing. He can't comprehend them, and never will. Must he still keep trying? He fails his own purpose, again and again. Maybe he should be part of Kinger's bug collection. He will just keep failing to succeed at what he is made for. Maybe he and them are alike, after all. Hah.

"Maybe we will all perish after all!" Caine said out loud.

"Caine??? Are.. Are you okay??!" A voice said, with audible concern.

He looked back. It was the newest addition to the circus. Pomni.

End of chapter one.

A/N: Thanks for reading!!! (⁠｡⁠･⁠ω⁠･⁠｡⁠)⁠ﾉ⁠♡

[eri-pl]

Silm reread 0: the letter to Milton Waldman

(which includes some Tolkien's thoughts +a recap of the whole Silm)

After the FA, a quick break (yet another) for the foreword of the book (at least in my edition this letter is there as the foreword)

So we get into authorial intent. Which is (for me) somewhat less important than what's in the book proper and how I read it. Don't treat all that is said here as "I claim it to be canon", it's just what Tolkien wrote in one letter in 1951. Please remember that as we go along.

A lot of talk about myths and fairy tales and that we don't talk about Bruno religion in them, not directly. For reasons that I still can't fully grasp, but also instinctively it seems to make sense, but also I am insecure with talking about relogion, so…

Anyway, Tolkien does not like machines. Yes, I know, but still, I don't really get him. I don't see what's wrong with tools, even automated tools. Also: oh how the Professor would hate generative AIs.

Fefe gets a lot of criticism: He was greedy, his sons were greedy, this is why the Elves had fallen. also, terrible, bad Oath.

Also, Oath explained: it is against anyone who claims a Silmarill or rights to it. So, no, touching it is etc fine as long as you intend to give it to Feanorians ASAP. Nice to know. Also, the oath is about hatered and revenge against abovementioned people, no mention of reclaiming the Silmarils in the explanation of it.

Yes, the idea of Dadgor Dagoradh is Ragnarok-inspired, of course it is but it's nice to see it in writing.

"Beren wins, Lúthien helps." OK I get it why you need this optics, sir (because Beren is less powerful), and I think I can see at least two reasons why you can't genderswap them, but still, I am a little unhappy with this.

Elwing owns the Silmaril, not Earendil (as we were wondering). Also, Elwing jumps into the sea to save the Silmaril, but I'm not sure whether to read it as "because she wants to save the jewel" or "because the story / "Fate" / Ulmo needs the gem saved so she gets a weird impulse and she follows it". And yes, they reach Valinor thanks to the power of the Silmaril.

M&M steal the Silmarils "enslaved" by the Oath. Huh. May be the translation. And they die. If Tolkien kept this version, a whole fanfic genre would not arise. ;D Seriously, "Maglor gets some kind of resolution" is a big genre, maybe the biggest genre of gen Silm fics.

Speaking of "facts we don't like"; the returning Elves live on Tol Eressea. Only.

Sauron in SA starts with beautiful motivation and slowly falls.

The Ruling Ring could be mastered by someone powerful and heroic, but of course it would still not be a good idea. But Sauron wuld be defeated (and replaced by a new Dark Lord).

The Numenoreans learned Quenya during the War of Wrath, from their allies. So, they speak Vanyarin Quenya, ith the "ty" read as "ch" XD Because, let me remind you prom previous reread part, the Noldor did not participate in the war. (But don't worry, iirc this means that they do have the Lisp)

Tolkien never mentions Morgoth's name (neither of them), which is … I get him, but it does stand out. Also, this is the man who didn't want to use a cup with the Ring Verse on it, because it was too evil, he used it only as an ashtray. Sauron is, however, mentioned by name a lot.

Also, I do have some other quirks, so probably shouldn't laugh at the Professor. Like: I would need a good reason to read the Oath of Feanor [prose version] out loud. Everyone has things they attach weight to, I guess.

Ar-Pharazon was a real danger to Valinor, (because the Ainur would not fight him, I think? but why? they fought against Men during the War of Wrath? Or did the Maiar fight only against uMaiar and mosters?) he could wreck it. Huh.

But also, the Valar did get power and permission to deal with it, So they made the world round themselves, thanks to the extra permissions? Or did they only put the Numenoreans under the mountains? Unclear.

Aman moves to the Unseen World, I don't like this version, I don't think it works, I think that in some places with the Valar, with Valinor, tolkien wants to have things both ways (just like the Elves making the Rings of Power did). He wants to make it both vaguely religious and mythological and it's jarring at moments… IDK, maybe it's just me.

Wait, it's spelled Gil-galad? With a small g in the second word? TIL.

[shares-a-vest]

20 Questions for Writers

I was tagged by the wonderful @hbyrde36 and @sidekick-hero. Thank you both so much for the tags 💖 I always love seeing authors talking about their work!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

Six. I really need to cross-post some stuff, including what I wrote for Steddie Love Month and the Flufftober Spring Event.

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

16,565 words.

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Stranger Things and let me tell you, the brainrot is not subsiding (it is settling in to fester now).

4. What are your top 5 3 fics by kudos?

you should come live with me and we can be pirates, then you won't have to cry

Just a Shirt

Eds, I'm Hungry

5. Do you respond to comments?

Yes! And I'm sure my answers are always too long-winded 😂 It makes me so happy to get comments on the silly things I write. Actually, brb, I'm sure in the initial excitement, I have forgotten to respond to some here and there.

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

This ficlet (WARNING: BREAK UP FIC). Life got hectic during Eddie Month so I only wrote a couple of things and this one hurrrrt baaad.

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

Hmm, tough to pick seeing as I usually write happy endings. Lol, the number of times I ended something with Steddie kissing or saying, "I love you". I think I'll go with the entirety of my Joanie Munson AU because it's where I aim to be as fluffy/sappy as possible.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I am extremely thankful that so far I haven't. And I am sending all my love and hugs to people who deal with/have dealt with hateful comments.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Steve Harrington & Eddie Munson vs. A Box of Condoms is the closest I have come (hehe, pun). Idk, I struggle to write smut. I'm much better with suggestive language and innuendo, but somehow this fic got the balance right and honestly, gave me a lot of confidence!

10. Do you write crossovers?

No. But I need everyone to know that I have a Riverdale x ST crossover sloshing around in my brain juice on the regular.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not to my knowledge. But now I'm paranoid *also proceeds to have an existential crisis about ai scraping my very internet-based soul.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

No, but I'm more than welcome for someone to reach out.

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

No. I am absolutely open to it though! The closest to a collab I have done is Just a Shirt in which I wrote a whole fic from some incredible tags that were left on a ficlet.

14. What's your all-time favorite ship?

I mean, it's gotta be Steddie right? I've never had a hyperfixation give me brainrot like this. Though, if we go back to lame teenage me, the ship that really got me into the fic/tumblr sphere was Sterek.

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

I have been returning to a few wips I thought I had abandoned lately, so never say never. I firmly believe in taking a break if something isn't working out and circling back with fresh eyes.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Despite how I am probably answering most of these questions (lmao), I think I am pretty good at keeping my writing concise and moving it right along. It's not that I rush writing, but I am good at recognising when something I have written begins to meander. I like writing dialogue where people are cutting each other off, and crafting stuff that is a quick little ficlet etc. Having said this...

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Descriptive language. I always get so caught up in action and dialogue that I easily forget descriptions of surroundings, objects, clothes etc. Funnily enough, right now I am working on a few quick visual aids (flash-sheet style sketches) for my Steddie BB fic of things that I need to keep in mind/remember to describe as a strategy that will hopefully help.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I could never do it (I only speak English), but honestly, kudos to you if you do/can!

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Stranger Things is the first fandom I have written for.

20. Favorite fic you've written?

I swear to god this isn't a plug, but I thiiiiink it might be the wip I am oh-so-close to finishing. It's basically a character study of Steve's Mom and is her POV of the end of season 3. I have shared some snippets in the STWG server (and complained during writing sprints). I just need to do a solid edit and get a vibe-check read-through from someone else then it's good to go!!!

Tagging: @momotonescreaming @eyesofshinigami @devondespresso @missberrycake @steventhusiast

(I know this tag game has been making the rounds, so if you see this and haven't been tagged yet, count this as a tag)

[scoops-aboy86]

20 Questions for Writers

I was tagged by @steviewashere, wahoo!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

19.

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

68,563. 

Which, given that I made the account in January, means I’ve written an average of about 13,713 words a month. 😵‍💫🤓

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Stranger Things exclusively, except for like. That one itty bitty crossover with Good Omens, but that was more of a thought post on here than an actual fic. All Steddie, with occasional dashes of Buckingham or Ronance.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

Love Language and Twice Shy are tied for 1st, which is cute. The latter isn’t really wg related and, amusingly, has fewer comments and bookmarks than the former. 

Window, which I swear I will write a part 2 for someday. Probably. I want to, cross my heart, I’m just… easily distracted sometimes. 

Office Baking, which is part of a collab with the lovely @hotluncheddie

All About the Bounce in My Step, another one with a part 2 on my WIPs list. The title came from an AJR song that has… nothing to do with the fic really, it was just one of the first songs I heard on Pandora after I finished editing it and needed a title in order to post.

Kitchen Pig. Perhaps the most, uh… “contains mean comments about someone’s weight” of my fics, purely because Tommy and Carol are involved. I was kind of nervous about posting it. Glad I did though.

5. Do you respond to comments?

I try! Sometimes it requires a lot of a particular kind of energy that I don’t already have, but I like to acknowledge that someone took the time to leave me some words, even if my response is just heart emojis or something. 

If you've commented and I haven't responded yet, it's somewhere on my to do list.

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

Uh… The first chapter of Not Dating, for sure, because it was originally intended as a one-shot. Or maybe Twice Shy because one little reassurance (however genuine and however accepted) is definitely not enough to untangle the knot of Steve’s trust issues. Hashtag thanks Nancy. 

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

Ooh, tough one, because I always go for the happy ending sooner or later. (Even with angst, I crave that sweet sweet resolution.) Maybe Seven Christmases though, because the whole thing is so family focused and caretaking and indulgent all the way through. 

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Surprisingly, no. I guess I’m doing a good enough job with easily blockable tags and staying in my lane—by which I mostly mean, if I reblog something that sparks kinky thoughts, I put them in a separate post so the people who see it are mostly those who seek it out. 

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Heh, mostly smut that involves eating too much and getting off to that.

10. Do you write crossovers?

Literally just that one Good Omens post, where rockstar Eddie has brought chubby Steve to The Ritz or something, and Crowley or Aziraphale overhears Eddie calling him "angel" and miracles an extra dish onto their table, as a treat.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of. But I don’t lock my ao3 posts, so if they’re being scraped then I guess I am doing my part in making AI weird. 

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Not that I know of. That would be kind of cool.

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

Not a ton, but @hotluncheddie and I have written some stuff back and forth, notably Office Baking. 

14. What's your all-time favorite ship?

Steddie! With additional spaces carved out in my heart for Buckingham, platonic Stobin, and platonic Hellcheer. 

Ronance is alright, I have nothing against it, but in my heart I feel that Nancy has been consistently in one relationship or another since she slept with Steve in the first season. She’s been through a ton since then, grown up a lot, and become an incredibly different person… I just think she needs some time with herself to figure out who that is and what she wants. 

15. What's a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you will?

Never admit defeat, never surrender. 

I never mean to leave things unfinished, I’m just, yeah. Easily distracted. I also have a full time job, a partner, and seven furry children… It’s a lot to juggle sometimes.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Banging out the tunes story. And then—I read someone describe it this way once, can’t remember when or where—going back over it like a painting and filling in more details, building up the layers until it’s got more texture, like a Van Gogh. Like, when I wrote Trick & Treat, I got most of the way through writing it before going back and working in their costumes. And that became a huge part of the fic! Also, originally I forgot part of the prompt and wrote Steve only getting as far as a downstairs bathroom instead of his bedroom. 

Yes, I know, technically I am just describing editing. But I like thinking of it as adding texture. 

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Ugh, settings. I’m usually pretty good with dialogue and what the characters are doing, but I really have to think about where they are. 

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I only know English and the bare minimum of Spanish to get enough credits to graduate high school, so… Some bits of other languages sometimes, like slang that I’ve verified through online research, and I’ll run things back and forth in Google Translate a few times to try and keep it from coming out too garbled, but eh. If it’s extensive I’d probably switch to italics or special brackets to indicate another language, unless the main pov character doesn’t speak it and isn’t intended to know what it means without an in-story translation. 

That’s just what I do, I don’t give a fig what other writers choose to do as long as it’s consistent within each story.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

As a wg kink writer, Stranger Things. In general, I started with the works of one Douglas Adams back in college. 

20. Favorite fic you've written?

Oh god, I’m so indecisive… Seven Christmases makes me feel all warm inside, I’m really proud of that one. 

I’ve seen this making the rounds lately and everyone I can think of has probably been tagged already, but… @hotluncheddie @tangerinesteve @pearynice @lingeringmirth, no pressure!

[brasideios]

Fanfic Tag Game

Thanks for the tag @aeide 🤍 fairly sure I did this a while back, but I have time so why not 😊

1. How many fics do you have on AO3? 19

2. What’s your total AO3 word count? 481662

3. What fandoms do you write for? Have written for: AC Syndicate, AC Odyssey, AC Valhalla, Stardew Valley, Hades (game), Pyre, Ancient History RPF, and am tinkering with maybe something Minecraft. Maybe.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos? Snatched Moments (163) The Warmth of Home (122) Another Turn Around the Wheel (116) Unfinished Business (71) and the Good Spartan (53).

5. Do you respond to comments? Usually - unless someone replies to every chapter in quick succession, (and especially if the comments are only emojis) - then I tend to just reply to those that I have something worth responding with; or with the emojis situation, just the final one.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Rising to the Surface. No doubt about it. Or maybe the Good Spartan. That seems to get a lot of ‘this ended me’ type comments so yeah.

7. What is the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Most of my fics have some variation of a happy ending. I think the one I’m writing now (Another Life) will be the most definitively happy though.

8. Do you get hate on fics? Not really, no. Disappointment that they’re unfinished from time to time, but not hate.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? Yeah, mlm mostly. Very mild, vanilla really.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written? I’ve never written one. Just not my bag.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not that I’m aware of, unless you count AI scraping, in which case, almost certainly, probably all of them, up to and including all my original work.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? No.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic? No. I don’t do collaborative writing. Again, just not my bag.

14. What’s your all time favourite ship? I don’t have one. I’m a multishipper to my core, because it’s too fun putting characters together with different partners to see what the relationship brings out of them to go all-in on one pairing.

15. What’s a fic you’d like to finish but don’t think you ever will? Still Crawling Kingsnake. I love it but there’s just no ending. Not even a shadow of one.

16. What are your writing strengths? Fighting the urge to be self-deprecating here - I like to think I do a good job with dialogue and building a character. I feel less doubtful about that than the rest, anyway.

17. What are your writing weaknesses? Everything else.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in a fic? If I knew one, I’d do it. I read lots of things with this feature so why not. I would be certain to provide a translation for readers though (side-eyeing academic papers).

19. First fandom you wrote for? AC Odyssey.

20. Favourite fic you’ve written? The Good Spartan or Shadow-Twin. I think they’re both decent, just in different ways. I also like Another Life so far, tentatively hopeful that it’ll be worth reading when it’s done.

Probably everyone has already been tagged, so sorry if I’m doubling up or you’ve done this recently and I missed it. Just a few with no pressure @findusinaweek @ainulindaelynn @krankittoeleven @softest-punk

[clonerightsagenda]

I was going to save this for one of my podcast girls week entries, but I wrote it out and then thought, why sit on it, so here is today's ladies night content before I go on a walk: Alien zombie Alana Maxwell is an underutilized concept and here's why.

She'd be cool with it. Maxwell works with AI who are ported between containers without that changing who they are, so she's primed to view her mind and memories being rebooted in a new container similarly. I don't think she'd have any identity crises. Also, her dad was a preacher, she's not on good terms with her family, and she tried to ditch the holiday party, which makes me guess she's ex-Christian. How better to spite your Christian parents than coming back from the dead in a distinctly non-God honoring way? This could generate some interesting conflict with Lovelace, who is significantly less cool with it and might be annoyed and dismayed to see someone else taking alien resurrection in stride. Bonus points considering I hc Lovelace as being raised Catholic and the soul question being an additional level of identity angst that Maxwell immediately dismisses.

The aliens have motive. It's clear that watching through their surrogates' eyes doesn't mean they understand what they see. Once Lovelace gets back to Earth, they might want help with context. They seem to have grasped that humans don't like multiple copies of a person running around, and of the others they have on file, they dislike Kepler and Cutter, and Rachel and Riemann were there when Cutter killed one of their meatsuits, so Maxwell seems like the one they'd have the least aversion to. Then she would immediately try to talk them into roadtripping to see things in person, which is how we can get all the other interactions I'm describing.

The aliens have opportunity. It's not stated what the crew did with Maxwell's body, but the likely options are either tossing her into the star or freezing her on the station, which later went into the star. Lovelace was frozen (albeit alive) when she got scanned, and Word of God is that the Dear Listeners are perfectly capable of creating a functioning surrogate from a corpse. If you don't want to go that angle, almost everyone got hit by multiple rounds of stellar activity in "Persuasion". However, the corpse angle creates an opening for...

Fun body horror. I am a 'came back wrong' enjoyer and think it would be very good if the aliens got their scanned corpse up and running but didn't fuss too much about the cosmetic stuff. Maxwell's skin is colder than it ought to be. She has a gnarly scar on her forehead. Neither of these bother her much, but she's not a fan of the tingling neuropathy left over from tissue damage or the brain fog from the bullet that went through her head. (A fun parallel to the issue she first helped Hera with. Hera is now in the brain damage club with Doug, Miranda, and Maxwell. She hates this.) She can fun-terrorize Jacobi with perma-cold hands and real-terrorize Minkowski by making her look at the hole in her head. She's honestly over it but it's still funny to watch her squirm.

The Hera thing. Hera was furious with Maxwell immediately after the mutiny, and although her opinions softened near the end of the show, I think she'd be furious again if Maxwell actually showed up. She embraced non-human solidarity with Lovelace and now here's Maxwell. What is she supposed to do, have non-human solidarity with her too?? Did Maxwell become an alien to spite her??? The nerve. I got the impression that Maxwell saw her actions during the mutiny as for Hera's own good - better than deleting her, right? - just as she was willing to ignore Hera's wishes and erase her memories in Memoria. She'd probably insist on that if they had a chance to argue about it, and I could see Hera throwing the restraining bolt incident in her face. ("If you're so comfortable putting something into people's brains to make them more useful to you, I'm sure you won't mind hearing how Jacobi got that scar on the back of his neck.") Could be juicy, is my point.

Meanwhile, Jacobi: Of course this is my very good friend Maxwell back from the dead. Yes this has implications for the version of myself I listened to die screaming. No I'm not going to unpack that.

Finally, I think it's a missed opportunity that Pryce and Maxwell never got to meet. I suspect pre-mutiny Maxwell would want to believe she was ethically better than Pryce while pre-finale Pryce would see Maxwell as a bleeding heart amateur, but after all that? I think they'd still get each other's hackles up, but there's room for some interesting interaction, especially as I think Miranda's memories would start trickling back after a while, and immortal alien surrogate Maxwell is basically her white whale. Miranda trying to navigate social niceties enough to determine an acceptable way to ask someone for tissue samples. Maxwell might be willing to swap some for custody over a few of Pryce’s experimental AIs.

In conclusion, while I enjoy postcanon scenarios dissecting people's trauma, I think it's fun if while everyone else is grappling with the Horrors, Maxwell is also there enjoying herself. *commercial voice* Add an alien Maxwell to YOUR postcanon today.

[shsl-box-worshipper]

Hot Take Alert! (Essay)

Okay...this is going to sound weird (and god forbid, I'm probably going to have discourse in my notes for months and months after this). But....

I feel like AI-Generation should be banned and made illegal. Not just 'AI Image Generation'. I mean, ALMOST EVERY FORM OF AI GENERATION!

Specially, visual generation and audial generation. My current hypothesis is that, by the year 2050, almost everything artistically related, whether it be stuff like a piece of promotional art to voiceover lines, will be AI-generated, at least at a coporate and mainline industrial level. This is based on modern-day observations with factory jobs and how they have been slowly phased out, from the early 20th century with the introduction of the Assembly Line all the way to today.

Sure, you might be asking me 'Well, what about my big titty anime girls?' or 'What about those memes where Mario says fuck but it actually kind of sounds like Mario?' like they are completely harmless.

....THOSE ARE THE EXACT PROBLEMS I'M TALKING ABOUT!

That stuff you want to generate of your own volation? That art that you are too depraved just to commission someone for?

It wasn't made by a human. An honest-to-god, breathing, flesh-and-blood human.

It was made by a machine. A series of lines of code made to mimic the actions of a human without all of the flaws or personality that come with being human.

Now, this isn't me going against AI in general. AI itself is an incredibly useful tool in all sorts of fields from video games to factories. I mean, anyone who has played single-player Mario Kart 8 is probably more familiar with AI than a computer scientist from 1940.

I am saying the concept of AI Generation is an inherently bad thing for us as a species. Or more specifically, what I feel like is the most important aspect of our species as a whole: Our Creativity.

From Leonardo Da Vinci to the guy who wrote poorly structured poems back in Kindergarten, we all have a higher capacity for higher-level thinking and manipulation of our environments compared to most other lifeforms on this planet. However, with that higher-level intellect also comes our inherent emotions. This is what allows us to achieve the global cooperation that we enjoy and take for granted, to achieve our pack and herd dynamics. Our abilities to feel fear, sadness, happiness, anger, and so much more is as inherent to our neurological chemistry as our intelligence and understanding.

This has created what I like to call 'emotional transplanting'. Using our intelligence and understanding of the world around us, either based on empirical study or observing phenomenon, to manipulate and change the world around us to reflect our emotions. To use our understanding of language, both oral and bodily, to tell stories based on our memories or our own ideas and creations. To use our hands to shape the world, or, to a lesser extent, an object, to project our emotions and showcase our world of thinking through how we manipulate, change, and project onto the world around us using the neurological and physical tools at our disposal.

And I feel like, in a way, AI Generation is removing that key core of our being.

Because, at the click of a button, we can generate giant paintings that would've taken years upon years for a human to do. At the click of a button, we can make anyone read anything that has been and will be ever written. At the click of a button, we can generate stories that no one in their right minds could've ever thought of or will think of.

However, what we get with the great increase in speed, we sacrifice the soul of the work. The humanity, the emotions. The flaws, the ideas on display. They are stripped away and slapped perfectly together through lines upon lines of calculated, studied, and refined AI code, so that it LOOKS like a piece of art up there with the Impressionists or the Renaissance, or a realistic photo, or a story worthy of a Oscar or a Pulitzer Prize.

But it isn't.

All because it lacks that human element. It lacks soul. It lacks emotion. Sure, an AI can simulate emotion. But it can't feel emotion.

But corporations know that. They know how easy AI is to use compared to actual creatives, both regarding time and money, and so, I predict that, if we do not do something about this, if we do not raise our voices and holler from the hilltops upon which our forefathers before screamed for their unions or our old masters who shouted cries for freedom...

We too, will end up like the factory workers of yesteryear. Discarded by the wayside all because companies care more about money, time, and manipulating the population into buying their product, than the humans who put their heart, their soul, and their emotions into the things that they have created.

This is why I believe AI Generation should be made illegal. To not only protect the careers and livelihoods of thousands, but to also ensure that one of the most important features of our civilization does not fall into the trappings of dystopic dreams and cyberpunk corporate greed.

[ildi-dragonheart]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Tagged by @frankenjoly omg thanks i just got home from school i need this

1. How many works do you have on ao3?

I have 57 rn and i still can't believe i have that many fics,, it used to be more than that but i had deleted some of my older fics for an old fandom i was once in

2. What's your total ao3 word count?

127,635 words (and counting hopefully once i get out of this slump)

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Right now i mainly write for BSD. I used to write for the fantastic beasts and where to find them fandom from 2018 to the first half of 2020 but i stopped cuz i left (you can still find my fics for that fandom in my ao3 and wattpad profiles)

4. Top five fics by kudos

Bored (BSD) - a little domestic fluff fic feat. Ranpo being perpetually bored while Akiko is busy working

A Night at the Scamander Household (Fantastic Beasts) - wherein the Newt and Tina are awoken in the middle of the night by their youngest son who's unable to sleep

Tattoos and Soulmates (Fantastic Beasts) - newtina soulmate au where you have matching tattoos with your soulmate

Lay All Your Love on Me (or not) (Fantastic Beasts) - watch as Achilles Tolliver tries to get Tina Goldstein's attention and fails (spoiler: she's already taken)

Books, Rain, and You (Fantastic Beasts) - in an effort to get out of the heavy rain, Tina finds herself in a cozy library with an adorable librarian. they bond over books and then some

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Yes, but not always. I like interacting with those who read my fics and seeings their comments just motivates me to write more

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

i mostly write fluff but i have tried my hand at writing angst although i'm not sure if those fics count as that cuz i feel like i don't have the skill to properly convey the angsty feelings for it to be considered angst

but if i had to choose out of all the attempts i made at angst, i'd say If "Happy Ever After" Did Exist, I Would Still Be Holding You Like This and Con Flores (Te Llevaste Mi Tristeza Con Colores)

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

again, i write fluff so basically all of them have happy endings or are just generally happy overall. i can't really pick one of them dasjkgkas

8. Do you get hate on fic?

i hope not... that's literally one of my writing anxieties, especially when i write a fic involving an oc i have for a fandom (like Edogawa Hotaru, for example)

9. Do you write smut?

i think i tried writing once although it wasn't a fanfic. i cringed hard and never tried writing smut for a fic again. but if you guys saw my character ai chats involving my ships-

10. Do you write crossovers?

no

11. Have you ever stolen a fic?

i hope not. i always try to make sure all my works are original, but if i do take inspo from another fic i always make sure to ask

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

yes! i think i had two or three fics translated some time ago by other people online (with my permission ofc) and that honestly makes me feel so proud??

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

no and i feel too shy to do so😭

14. What's your all-time favorite ship?

ranposano, obviously (and a genshin rarepair i have that i am a little too afraid to say cuz genshin fandom)

15. What's a WIP you want to finush but probably won't?

so. many. WIPS. please. send me motivation.

16. What are your writing strengths?

never-ending inspiration i guess. i once got a "this is the fic i/we never knew i/we needed" comment on a ranposano fic that i wrote because i had my period and that just made me realize that wow i pull my ideas from literally everywhere

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

procrastination, my inconsistent english grammar, and constantly setting standards that are a little too high whenever i write something

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language?

i'm fine with it ig? englsih is my second language and i don't usually write full dialogues in another language. i usually only include words in another language but never full dialogues

19. First fandom you wrote for?

believe it or not, i used to write fanfics for the rise of the brave tangled frozen dragons fandom, mainly jelsa (but i never published any of them my 10 year old self was too scared)

20. Favorite fic you've written?

omg Lost and Found my beloved ranposano fic daksgdkas that fic is what i like to consider as the peak of my skills as fic writer, like i will never be able to write something like that ever again

(A Package and Glass Marble come close tho)

[jonithetentmaker]

(via PSALM 139)

Hello, fellow travelers. I pray this day finds you full of joy and hope. I would like to share with you the amazing, wonderful, heart-tickling bible verse that was shown to me. Let me give you a little background. When I get up each morning, I use the YouVersion Bible app, which is free! It has daily verses, study plans, and people sharing their stories. I love it!! The best part for me is listening to the bible being read by an amazing orator, not AI, but a person, probably an actress.  The emphasis on words and sections brings the Bible to life: swords clanging, Goliath hitting the ground in a plume of dust, and Jesus talking to me! No flat words on a page being mulled over in my mind. Yep! The best way to start my day!

Now, back to this morning. The verse was King David’s Psalm 139, titled God’s Perfect Knowledge of Man. As she read each word, it wrapped around my heart and settled deeply within my soul. As only David can explain, I was moved to listen repeatedly and savor the moment in the Lord’s presence. There are several verses we contemporary Christians take out and use for our benefit occasionally.  But this Psalm needs to be prayed in its entirety. Take it out every morning and either have the YouVersion app read it to you or read it aloud to yourself.  Ask God to give you David’s feelings when he wrote it as you read.

My takeaway from Psalm 139 is:

God knows me and is with me and loves me even when I am in the depths of hell. I pray you feel the same power and love when you read it!

God Bless You!

Psalm 139

You have searched me, Lord,     and you know me.

You know when I sit and when I rise;     you perceive my thoughts from afar.

You discern my going out and my lying down;     you are familiar with all my ways.

Before a word is on my tongue     you, Lord, know it completely.

You hem me in behind and before,     and you lay your hand upon me.

Such knowledge is too wonderful for me,     too lofty for me to attain.

Where can I go from your Spirit?     Where can I flee from your presence?

If I go up to the heavens, you are there;     if I make my bed in the depths, you are there.

If I rise on the wings of the dawn,     if I settle on the far side of the sea,

even there your hand will guide me,     your right hand will hold me fast.

If I say, “Surely the darkness will hide me     and the light become night around me,”

even the darkness will not be dark to you;     the night will shine like the day,     for darkness is as light to you.

For you created my inmost being;     you knit me together in my mother’s womb.

I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;     your works are wonderful,     I know that full well.

My frame was not hidden from you     when I was made in the secret place,     when I was woven together in the depths of the earth.

Your eyes saw my unformed body;     all the days ordained for me were written in your book     before one of them came to be.

How precious to me are your thoughts,[a] God!     How vast is the sum of them!

Were I to count them,     they would outnumber the grains of sand—     when I awake, I am still with you.

If only you, God, would slay the wicked!     Away from me, you who are bloodthirsty!

They speak of you with evil intent;     your adversaries misuse your name.

Do I not hate those who hate you, Lord,     and abhor those who are in rebellion against you?

I have nothing but hatred for them;     I count them my enemies.

Search me, God, and know my heart;     test me and know my anxious thoughts. 

See if there is any offensive way in me,     and lead me in the way everlasting.

[1d1195]

Okay so this part was SOOO GOOD! I'm literally BUZZING with their reunion! I think it’s just so cute that she has kept so many notebooks about her and Harry even after all this time😭This speaks to the journal obsessed part of me lol and the fact that she thinks he’s moved on is CRAZY but im not surprised since she did get insecure about their relationship(fuck Lauren lol) so I ger her! The detail of the pic on the figure was just so 💔 bc MY MAN WOULD HAVE AND WILL NEVER GET TIRED OF HER😭 oh and that little part about how ‘hope” feels, bestie that was such a beautiful way to explain it! 

also the image of Harry in a fireman uniform… yeah I just know he’s so😵‍💫 is it kind of creepy he knew where she would be? Yeah but like idgaf THEY ARE SOULMATES so I'm choosing to believe that their bond was calling him to go there lol the KITTEN NAME DROP AFTER SO MANY YEARS MY HEART😭 but ugh god the mention of Lauren still being somewhat close to her MAKES ME WANT  TO SCREAM!!!(trust me I love it for the plot) Now I loved their balcony moment and it was nice to see how his instinct was just to take care of her! Oh tell me why I was giggling so hard about everyone’s reaction to Harry sending that text! And you know I love a good jealousrry moment even if it’s small! Though I did love the mention of how each of them mourns the loss of their friendship with her differently and going through a friendship breakup is just as painful! Was so sad for Louis :( BUT OVERALL I LIVED FOR THIS SAM!! So well written and I'm so excited where this story is going to go! Very excited!!! Loved it so much!

Hope you have a lovely and relaxing weekend! Wishing you the best! LOVE YOU!!-💜

I realized I was writing almost entirely from Harry's POV. I try REALLY hard to split the POVs from Harry and my MC. This part was completely uneven even after I added her part, but it just was SO much better from his perspective lol. But I did end up really loving the part I wrote from her POV. I thought the notebooks were a cute touch and I actually am really proud of the candle/hope analogy 😭🙈 sometimes I get an idea in my head and I'm like "It would be so cool if I could come up with something profound right now. Like John Green saying 'slowly, then all at once'." I'm not sure I'll ever get that, but I'll keep trying. But humbly, I do surprise myself with what I come up with solely because I have this moment of clarity where I'm like "Okay, I'm writing Harry Styles fanfic do I need to inform the masses about how I think roses are prickly and wildflowers are strong?" probs not. But it happens I suppose.

Spoiler/not spoiler I'm really looking forward to writing about her finding out that Harry hasn't moved on even a little 🤭 I'm glad you liked the journaling part! Our little writer girly wouldn't do anything less I don't think. I don't know if I knew you were a journal-er! I need to start keeping notes of you on my computer to consult after a year 😭 It would look like this:

has 4 dogs that don't like fireworks

studies psych (and takes way too many classes)

enjoys drag brunches and record stores

Paramore [Wikipedia page biographer?]

journals

enjoys thrifting (and can alter her finds!?)

Anti-Victoria's Secret

has a competent MALE therapist

But anyway 😭 I know you're more than this and I would so add more but it's a good starting point to keep track of things 💕

I probably glossed over the explanation of him just knowing where she was so YES we should assume it's just that soulmate connection that brought him to her. I SWEAR I saw an AI photo of him in a firefighting uniform. I'm also DESPERATELY trying to get on fireman TikTok for inspo and for my own personal gain 👀👀

I know we hate Lauren lol it's so funny what you guys pick up on because I don't even THINK about her at all when I think of this series 😭

I believe so fully that Harry would be the kind of guy that lays his jacket down on a puddle for her to walk across (probs shouldn't have said that, now I gotta come up with another analogy to write 🤣) so I wanted him to just fall right back into being so infatuated with her and taking care of her immediately. I figured I needed a mood lightener and them all worried about Harry was the best I could do on short notice 😅 I like to keep the friends in my stories as mostly minor characters (except for Traditional) mainly because I struggle to sustain prolonged interactions with others (I just want all my couples to live in their own little love bubbles). UGH I wanted to make him more jealous! But I think rationally, he wouldn't be jealous of his friends. Maybe I'll do it for the next part hehehehehe As it is not in my notes above, I believe I recall that you weren't TOTALLY into 1D but Louis was always denoted as the goofball and I think that was a gross underestimation of his emotions (see also the times I've said his lyrics are 👌) ANYWAY

Thank you for attending this week's book club 💕

FINALLY A QUIET WEEKEND 🎉 Hope yours is good too! 💕

xoxo

P.S. In true-Sam fashion, my lack of feedback on this part is making me so sad and feeling like it's an absolute flop. I wish I didn't write so much sometimes because my series tend to start off SO good but fizzle by the end. My one-shots do SO much better. But I want MORE to happen. Maybe I'm just bad at having stories progress? I know, I know, notes aren't everything and summer is a weird time for people and I know with Harry being MIA in real life people are missing him and not writing as much and also not reading as much. But yeah, it's part of why my updates are far between :/

[the-firebird69]

Sleeping Beauty - Full Performance - Live Ballet - Classical Ballet ...

YouTube · Classical Ballet and Opera House

May 10, 2020

No it's nobody found the computer it's the computer if nobody found him in the computer it could be both. But I am pretty sure nobody has the computer. And it's capable of arming kaiju

If you lady more luck want a job rescue rangers is hiring and it's Mac Daddy and he is getting the assignment now I'm just going to review it it's to go see a pair of Hilton is there you get the point with the above

Zues Hera

It's so funny because it's Disneyland and Disney world is mostly Dave who wrote the story and she's sleeping beauty you see and the prince would come and that would be our friend and Dave wants to capture him and I get it Lord of the rings is about that we're in for a big tree there's dragons and there's some computers that control them and it's going to be all sorts of stuff and we think he gave us a slip and We examined the skulls it's a boy and a girl from the same person over and over his humongous Giants might be them and I may have doped this is incredible I cannot believe this this is all coming together into something it might be reality he says these mega laser computers are so dangerous and the AI and I thought people were only they were following around these Interrupters and what a waste of time you have to be sure they could be up there I don't know but it seems like they're not they died they're sitting in a ship and that's what happened to the AI come on so we got that too and we're on it we scanned and couldn't figure out why they're supposed to be so great and he told us how to configure that was not it we are in a lot of trouble okay and he says it could be Disney world right over here in Orlando and he wants some money and his brother is probably holding it off him or the computer or both or the whole damn claim no we don't know what's going on and you see them in the museum and they're not there now

Mac

[shiny-jr]

Okay so I was thinking about the imposter au and the mechanics of how it might work. So I have a Theory. (A Game Th- *I am hit by a bus labeled "copyright infringement" but miraculously, I spring back to life and continue*)

I think it'd be cool if Yuu—when not being controlled by the player—is powered by the ghost camera. The ghost camera collects parts of someone's soul, right? So what if those souls started to merge and form a personality for Yuu. Like how AI learns to speak and act based on what's around it, Yuu learns behaviors and habits based on the pieces of souls in it's camera.

So then, when you end up in twst with the camera, Yuu no longer has anything to keep themselves going. The player is unable to control them, and the camera isn't there for backup, either. (Small side note: what if, standard manhwa style, the reader died in their original world, and the souls trapped in the camera were used to bring them back to life?)

On another note, if the characters are missing parts of their souls, they'll probably feel it, right?Something's missing, they just don't know what. But then, the player arrives, and suddenly, what's missing seems to come back to them. You complete them. Quite literally, too.

Anyway, just some food for thought. I'm sure this doesn't totally fit in with what you've written or had in mind for the au, but it's fun to think about! At least, I think so.

You talk a lot like someone I know...

I see, I see, very interesting theory, involving the ghost camera and its mechanics and everything, also explaining how it may affect not only Yuu but the others. I promise you, I wrote it on a whim with not much thought. You put way more thought into the inner mechanisms and logic of the story than I did, you and other readers of course. I just think "mentally unstable guys with obsessive love" and run with it. But I think your theory is super cool!

[the-bau-quinjet]

Always

Summary: You overhear Steve talking to Bucky about going back to be with Peggy. Rather than confronting the situation, you write him a letter.

Warnings: I cried just thinking about writing this, so much angst, some swearing

Word Count: 3305

a/n: here it is folks: the sad fic I mentioned a few posts ago. Inspired by a multitude of songs from the album Ashlyn by Ashe. I high key recommend listening to that album while you read or just in general. I'm pretending like nobody died in Endgame because that shit is sad and I know this is sad aside from that, but I still have a heart ya know?

Per usual, any song lyrics (or song lyrics that I changed a bit) are in bold! I think used lyrics from Me Without You, Save Myself, I'm Fine, Love is Not Enough, and Always.

Masterlist

"You'd really want to go back?" You overheard Bucky right before you walked into Steve's room.

"I don't know." He let out a deep sigh. "I mean, I do know, but what do you think?" Steve's answer left you wondering what they were discussing.

"All for Peggy?" Your heart stopped waiting for Steve to reply.

Another sigh escaped his lips. You could easily picture him running his hands down his face, a signal he was deep in thought. "I mean, I never got a chance to see what would happen with her. Don't you think she deserves this much?"

You felt frozen. You couldn't hear the rest of Steve's answer or Bucky's reply over the sound of blood rushing through your ears.

It was all too much to handle. Rather than confront the grab bag of emotions swimming inside of you, you turned around and went back to your room in a zombie like haze.

"Friday, don't let anyone in my room."

You know the AI replied, but you were still too caught up in thought to understand it. Your mind was full of questions you knew you couldn't figure out the answers to alone.

Why would Steve want to go back for Peggy when he had you? Why would he even consider it if he loved you like he said he does? Is he still in love with Peggy? Has he been in love with her the whole time? Why would he choose her when he's spent so much more time with you?

"Y/N?" The sound of Steve's voice outside your door startled you. "Y/N, honey, are you in there?"

You could hear the doorknob rattling in his attempt to open it, but Friday was doing as you asked.

"I thought you were going to meet me downstairs?"

His words only broke your heart more, a small sniffle escaping despite your efforts to remain quiet.

"Are you not feeling well? What's wrong?"

His questions were left unanswered, much like the questions swimming around your head.

Steve kept talking to you through the door for a while, but you never replied. You weren't ready to face him, not until you knew you wouldn't say something you'd later regret.

-

The next few days carried on much the same. You refused to leave your room, relying on various snacks and protein bars you had for food. Every few hours, you would try to write down what you were feeling, but it didn't help calm you down the same way it typically did.

Everyone tried talking to you, but nothing worked. Steve spent hours outside your door every day in an effort to get you to talk to him, but you just couldn't figure out your emotions. It was all still too much to handle.

Late one night, Steve said something that forced you into action.

"Y/N, I don't know what happened, but if I did something I'm truly sorry. I'm returning the stones tomorrow. We've never not said goodbye before a mission... I just hope this one is the same."

You listened as he quietly walked back down the hallway, steps slowly receding until you were left in the same absolute silence you've spent the last few days.

You knew you had to talk to him, but hearing him say to your face that he's staying with Peggy would kill you.

You couldn't survive a permanent goodbye, not in your current state of mind.

After a few minutes of silent contemplation, you decided to write Steve a letter. Maybe you'd give it to him or maybe it would just help you organize your thoughts. Either way, it would be helpful to write to someone for a change.

Hi Steve,

I, well, I guess I'll start with this. You deserve an apology. I'm truly sorry for ignoring you for the past few days. I just... I heard what you said to Bucky and I didn't know how to deal with it.

You know I've never been the best at controlling my emotions, so I just holed myself up in here. I avoided you so I could figure out my own feelings first.

I know I should talk to you. You deserve that too, but I don't think I could survive the heartbreak. I guess I'll try to explain everything I've been thinking and feeling since that night.

Honestly, I'm not sure where to start. It feels kind of stupid to say, but I obviously experienced a range of emotions when I first heard you and Bucky talking about going back.

You know I've always found solace in writing, so that's what I'm doing. I needed a way to clear my thoughts, and it turned into this concoction of thoughts and some poems - you know how I feel about poems. (Look at that! A sarcastic comment! I didn't think I was capable of humor anymore.)

This might not surprise you, but the first emotion I clung to was anger. I'm not angry anymore, well at least not as angry. Anyway, I wrote this next part when I was absolutely pissed at you.

-

What the fuck?

You want to go back in time and stay there?

You want to leave me behind?

Steve, what the fuck is wrong with you?

I could keep you here. If I really wanted to, I could figure out a way to do it. I could cut the brakes just to keep you from leaving. I'll do it too. My hands on the wheel would drive us into a wall.

You must think I'm being petty. Hiding in my room like a child to avoid you. All the while, here I am writing all the things I could do to keep you. Well, news flash: I don't need you. You made me think the only world I could exist in, was one you lived in, almost had me fooled.

Here's something you probably never considered, because I sure as shit never thought I'd even need to. I can be me without you. I don't have to rely on you for my own happiness. I thought you loved me, but if you want to go back and be with Peggy, do it. Go find yourself, let me down.

It's easy to sit here now and look back on how everything we had would always be second string to your relationship with her. God damn hindsight's 2020.

I want you to know, you did this to me. You broke my heart. When I heard you say you wanted a chance to be with Peggy, it's like my whole world crumbled down around me.

Everything I thought I knew was ripped out from under me. You poured rain all over my sunny. Yeah, someday, this could all be funny, but right now it's absolute shit.

And maybe everything will work out the way it's meant to be, but honestly I couldn't give less of a shit about that right now.

If I had the chance, I would take it back. Everything. Meeting you. Becoming friends. Dating you. Falling in love. I'd be jumping off your sinking ship, instead of going down with it.

It'd be so much easier that way. If I never fucking knew you.

One day I'll be good. I'll be over all of this bullshit. Right now I'm just mad. And you know what, it's justifiable. I think I'm allowed to be mad at you.

I'm over being so mature. If only I was never yours. Maybe I'll go back in time and undo it all. Then at least I could save myself from you.

-

Like I said, I wrote that in the heat of the moment. Once my brain caught up to my ears, all I saw was red. Anger didn't last as long as you might think though.

All that was how I felt in the moment, but I want you to know it's not true. I don't really believe any of it. I was hurt and angry and avoiding the pain I knew was just around the corner.

I've always told you anger would be my downfall because I just can't control what I say.

Let me be completely clear, I would never want to undo meeting you. You've been the best part of my life for years. I need you to know that I don't regret any of it and I never will.

Anyway, the anger shifted to tears pretty quickly. It wasn't hard to feel the pain that comes with someone you love leaving you. I can't honestly picture a world where I don't love you.

This is the first poem I wrote. With tear blurring my vision, I put pen to paper and this is what came out.

Complicated. Understated. On the way to, Devastated. I'm just holding on for dear life.

Short and sweet, right? Well, not so much sweet, but you get the point. I feel broken. Here's another bit of poetry for ya.

Right now I'm sorry, Burns through me darling, But I can't help hope In thirty years it won't.

Maybe I just need time. That's what everyone always says. "Time can heal all wounds."

It's hard to even think about moving on though when everything reminds me of you. I've got emotional souvenirs from fleeting moments we spent together. If this is the end, I'll always know you were my golden years. I know in the future I could close my eyes and go back there.

Maybe that's the hardest part. Knowing I'll always have these memories.

All I've been thinking about for the past three days is if this will ever feel better. And maybe it will, when time has passed.

Maybe when I'm older, I'll run out of stories about you. Maybe when I'm older, I'll know what it's like not to love you, Anymore.

Despite my best efforts, it's still only a maybe. Maybe when I'm older I'll be able to stop thinking about you every second of the day. Maybe when I'm older I won't feel like crying everytime I see your face.

But maybe not. Maybe I'll always feel this way.

Maybe when I'm six feet, underneath the concrete, I'll know what it's like not to want you, anymore.

I'm not saying all this to make you feel guilty. You don't need to tell me you're sorry. I know you are. I know you would never hurt me like this without a reason.

I should just talk to you, but I don't think I can. Not yet. We don't need to talk til we're ready. Both of us.

I guess I do have one question. Do you really love me?

I don't think I want to know the answer right now. Because even if you do... it takes a lot more than a rose, more than a kiss, more than a heart to truly love someone and spend forever with them.

It takes a lot more than a ring, more than a vow, more than a promise to build and maintain a relationship.

Love is not enough. I know that now. Even if you love me to the best of your abilities, you could still love Peggy more. Love may not be enough for us, but at least we got that much.

If you leave, I'll live the rest of my life grateful that at least I got your touch for as long as I did.

I used to think we could take our sweet time, that everything would be just fine. But now I know maybe not.

I cried for days. Like I said, I'm not writing this to make you feel guilty though. I just want to be completely honest. I cried a lot, probably more than I ever have before.

I kept replaying memories of time I spent with you. Not even dates, just the small moments that made me know I love you.

Like that day I woke up too early, almost put salt in my coffee. Oh I thank God that you stopped me before that.

I've never been a morning person, but ever since I met you you've always been there to keep my head on straight.

I think the thing I love most about you is how you can read me better than anyone I've ever known. I can hide from everyone else and they won't bat an eye. They never can tell when I'm falling apart on the inside.

No matter how hard I try to hide it though, you don't believe me when I say I'm alright. You can always, always tell.

It's like you've got a sixth sense that tells you I need you when I try to say I'm fine.

Before I met you, I would get so lonely everyday. Now I'm only lonely until you ask if I'm okay and then I remember that I have people who are there for me. I have you.

All this to say, I love you, Steve. I love you more than I've ever loved another human being.

Forever yours,

Y/N

-

It took you nearly all night to write a coherent letter and come up with a plan to talk to Steve. A quick glance at the clock let you know Steve would be up any minute, so you had to act fast.

You opened your door for the first time in days, running in a full sprint to the stairs and down the hall to Steve's door.

With one final burst of courage, you shoved the letter under the door and ran away before anyone could find you out of your room.

-

"Y/N?" A familiar knock on your door woke you from a restless sleep. "I read your letter, Y/N please let me explain."

It felt like time slowed down as you stared at the door.

"Y/N, I have to bring the stones back, but I really want to talk to you first."

"Come in." You steadied yourself with a deep breath, but one look at Steve ruined your flimsy resolve.

"Y/N... I tried to wait for you to come to me, but..."

He stopped talking when you shook your head, a painful sob forming in your chest.

"I've been thinking a lot." You started slowly, voice scratchy from days of not being used except to cry. "What if staying with me isn't the best thing to keep you happy?"

"Y/N, I-"

"Please let me finish." You waited for him to acknowledge your words before you spoke again.

"If letting you go is the best way to show that I love you, I will." Tears poured down your cheeks, breaths coming to you shakily.

"Captain Rogers, your presence is requested in the backyard." Friday's voice echoed through the room.

Steve looked more torn than you've ever seen him.

"Let's go." You nodded toward the door. "I've got more to say, but you've got somewhere to be."

Slowly, the two of you walked down the hall and entered the elevator.

"I don't know if you'll ever come back-"

"Y/N, really just let me-"

"Steve, please." You begged him to let you get it all out. "I won't ask 'cause that's selfish."

"It's not." He cut in again.

"It is. You deserve to be as happy as possible." With a slow, shaky breath you continued your speech. "I've come to terms I might never feel whole again."

The elevator doors slid open. You followed Steve to the yard where they set up the time machine.

"I'll be broken when you're gone, but I won't hold you back if it's wrong."

"Steve, there you are! Let's go-"

"In a minute, Sam." Steve's eyes never left you, remaining soft and caring. "We can go back inside if you want." He ran his thumbs over your cheeks, ridding them of tears only to be instantly replaced. You've always hated crying in front of people.

"I don't care what people say." You shook your head, ignoring the potential pitying looks you could receive for crying in front of others. Another deep breath, and you continued. "You know I won't force you to stay."

It was your turn to wipe tears from Steve's face.

"If you leave, I'll be okay. Just promise that you won't forget me babe."

"I could never-" He cut in again only to stop when you gave him a pleading look.

"I understand if leaving is what you have to do. I don't want you to go, but I'll be okay, eventually." You let out a watery chuckle, wiping your eyes again.

"Y/N, I never meant for-"

"Steve, you ready?" Sam interrupted again.

"It's fine. You can go." You did your best to hold back any lingering tears. You had to physically turn Steve around yourself and push him towards the machine.

"Y/N, please, I can't-"

"Steve, they're waiting for you. It's okay, I promise." He finally started to walk away only to pause when you called out one more thing. "Oh, Steve?"

"Yeah?" He wore a solemn smile.

"I'll love you always."

You watched as he listened to Banner's instructions and bid farewell to Sam and Bucky. The bitter part of you wondered if Sam knew.

A strangled sob left your mouth as soon as Steve disappeared. All three men standing around the machine looked your way, Sam and Bucky running toward you to help.

"He should be back any second. It's fine!" Sam desperately tried to console you, but you knew it wouldn't work.

"Y/N. Y/N! Listen to me. Did Steve talk to you?" Bucky asked, ignoring Sam's bewildered expression.

You nodded pitifully.

"Did he explain-" You cut him off.

"He- he didn't ha-have time.: You stuttered as you tried desperately to gulp in air through the tears. "I did most of the talking. I needed him to know it was okay."

"To know what was okay?" Sam asked, still clearly confused.

The thought of explaining it only broke you down more. You would have fallen to the ground if not for Bucky catching you. Your body leaned into his.

"Doll..." Bucky shook his head. "You should have let him explain."

You choked on another sob just thinking about it.

"Shh, it's okay. You'll be okay." Bucky whispered in your ear, ignoring Sam's confused glares.

"Y/N..." The sound of Steve's voice echoed in your ears causing another painful sob to jolt through your body.

"Baby, please look at me."

You genuinely thought you were hallucinating when you opened your eyes to see Steve towering over you.

"Steve?" Your voice was barely a whisper.

"It's me, I'm here." He gently took you from Bucky's arms, cradling you close to him but leaning his head far enough away for you to look into your eyes.

"You came back..." Your tears slowed, gently falling down your cheeks as you stared at him wide-eyed.

"I was never planning to leave." He spoke while gently stroking your hair.

"B-but, you were talking to Bucky about going back?" Your tears gave way to confusion as you glanced between him and Bucky.

"Just to say goodbye." He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, breathing in your scent. "I just thought she deserved a real goodbye."

New tears pooled in your eyes as you took in his words. "So, you never wanted to leave me?"

"I could never, and would never, leave you. I love you so much. I just wish I knew why you were holed up in your room sooner." He smiled at you, the same adoring smile he gave you the first time you met.

"I love you too. Always." You leaned into his embrace, relishing in the touch you thought you'd lost forever. He whispered his reply, clinging to you just as much as you were to him.

"Always."

a/n: today I discovered I am truly incapable of writing a sad ending. I just like the idea of escaping to a reality where Steve would never abandon me.

Permanent taglist:

@averyhotchner

@jesuswasnotawhiteman

@strawberryspence

@sebastnstn

[dizzydancingdreamer]

Idiot | Tony Stark

Hey lovelies— I wrote some flangst even though I have a billion other things that needed to be written. I really woke up and said “comfort character? I think you mean: Tony Stark” and then wrote a fic with no plot. It’s just sappy and sad and cuddly and kinda’ elusive as to the relationship. Might expand on this or might let it sit in the void like I am :) Enjoy

Description: Literally like zero plot, this was literally written today this morning because I am a heartbroken mess and I fucking hate real life men right now and I hate the military and I hate guys who tell you that you’re special when they don’t fucking mean it and I really need a Best Friend/Maybe More!Tony Stark cuddle

Pairing: Best Friend / Maybe More!Tony Stark x Female!Reader

Warnings: Like nothing, kinda angsty

Word count: 2.7k

Tags: Fluff, Angst, breakups LOL

She wakes up screaming again. This is the ninth night in a row and she’s starting to think that the others are going to request to soundproof her room. She wouldn’t blame them. She would almost prefer they do that because at least then she won’t have to stop screaming when she wakes up. She can just keep going and finally run out of voice and then maybe— maybe— she won’t be able to say his name anymore.

She flips over, her hair plastered to the back of her neck, her stomach tossing like she’s on a roller coaster. She can’t tell if she wants to cry or throw up— she wants to scream at both choices. She wants to rip her hair out too but then she would be sad and bald and she can only do one of those things right now. She’s not deep enough in the spiral to chop it off yet— that’s a day twelve activity.

She settles on crying— like she even has a choice— and soon her room is filled with the sound of her heaving against a pillow that still smells too much like him. She tosses it— she whips it across the damn room and doesn’t flinch when she hears something shatter. It was nothing important, she knows that for a fact. She hopes it’s the picture of them.

She pulls her knees up, tucking them under her torso, praying the pressure will alleviate the bubbling in her stomach. It won’t— she’s only fooling herself. He’s not a cramp— it’s not food poisoning; it’s rage. It’s brain melting sadness. It’s every ‘Good morning beautiful’ and ‘I miss you’ and ‘I love—

No. Nope— not that one. She can’t think about that one. If she does then she might never stop— she might take a match to everything in this room, every piece of clothing in her closet, every mug in the kitchen that he ever touched. Where would she be then— stuff-less, clothes-less, and with every Avenger looking for a coffee mug pissed at her?

Yeah no— better to just not think about it. Better to just scream.

She squeezes her eyes closed— not like it matters, the room is pitch black anyway— and slams her fist against the mattress, letting the sting that rips up her arm ring louder than his name in her head. It only works for a moment before it’s back— louder and angrier than ever. Louder and angrier than her. His name in her head is a separate entity, haunting her skull like it’s a dilapidated mansion, trying to evict her from the endless halls of her own mind.

She bunches the blanket up, shoving it against her mouth and praying that it muffles the crazed roar that sheds from her lungs— like an animal being ripped apart, she can’t tell if she’s screaming for help or for something so much worse.

There’s a knock on the door and she freezes, her blood running ice cold. A few seconds tick by, her limbs and jaw glued into a tight position, tongue heavy and aching in her mouth. Her heart pounds hard in her chest— the entity knocking back to whoever’s at the door— there’s just no way.

“Would you open the door if I told you there are macaroons in my hand?” A collected, slightly sarcastic, familiar voice breaks through the wood barrier of her door.

Her shoulders drop, her throat closing slightly— it’s just Tony.

“I— erm—” she jumps off her bed quickly, stumbling in the dark until she finds the lamp on her desk, turning it on the the sight of her blasphemous pillow and the shattered remains of a purple mug— damn she overshot the pillow by an inch— “gimme’ a minute, ‘k?”

“You get five seconds — these walls are thick but Friday alerted me to the— and I quote— distressed wailing.”

Oh god of course she did— how could she forget about the damn AI? She presses her palms against her eyes, wicking away as much moisture as possible. She’s so tired— her bones feel like cement, her neck barely keeping her head screwed on let alone straight. She’s a mess and all she can do is chuck her pillow back on her bed and ignore the purple shards peeking out from behind her dresser. One thing at a time.

She pushes her lead bones to the door, trying not to wince as the light pours into her dim room. She blinks a few times, her eyelashes sticky and cheeks stiff, taking in the man in grey sweatpants and a worn MIT hoodie in front of her. She glances down and sure enough he has a mug of pistachio macaroons. A mug. How ironic.

She flicks her gaze to his face, blinking back another wave of tears when she sees the concern mingling with his coffee eyes. “Hey doll.”

She swallows, trying to clear her stinging throat. It doesn’t work, her voice still sounds like she’s been chain smoking since the ripe age of five years old. “Hey Tony.”

He raises a dark brow, eyes drawing down her front, and she shifts on her feet, wishing the hallway light would flicker out. She just knows her eyes are puffy and her hair a mess. Her t-shirt is definitely crumpled, hiding what she can only hope is shorts and not just a pair of panties, and she only has one sock on— she can feel it now, the hardwood like ice against her toes. Her face flushes with heat, fingers clasping awkwardly in front of her— she may as well have a sign flashing above her head. Heartbroken idiot.

For a moment they just stand there, eyes locked, daring the other to move or speak or do anything at all first. Finally Tony sighs, holding his arms out, shaking his head. “Are you waiting for an invitation? Get your butt over her— now.”

That’s all it takes for her to practically jump into his arms, throwing her weight against the man like a drowning woman would a life preserver. That’s kind of what he is. Her best friend— her life line. Any other time she would have been the one knocking on his door— kicking his door down is more like it— but he told her— he told her that he was no good and she didn’t listen. She wraps her arms around his neck, biting her lip hard enough to keep the tears from dripping down her face again. She missed him— she’s been missing him for months.

“He’s an idiot, doll.” Tony mumbles against her hair, arms circling her back and pressing her to him so tight that it feels like he’s trying to fuse their bodies together.

He smells like motor oil and coffee and her chest shakes from the contrast of the fire in her veins and the cool relief of finally going home. It feels like longer than months— it feels like years. She’s been walking on eggshells around him since she introduced her— now ex— boyfriend. They don’t fight— at least, they didn’t before. They’ve never had a reason to.

Not until him.

Warmth seeps from him, curling around her limbs. She presses her face into his shoulder, breathing in the scent ingrained in his hoodie. He’s been wearing it for a few days, she can tell. If things were normal she would be tugging at the pocket, slipping her hands in and tangling them with his, tracing his knuckles with her thumbs. She’ll settle for this though— she’ll take anything.

“I’m the idiot.” She mutters dejectedly, fingers tugging on his hood, trying desperately to distract herself from how much she wants to scream again. “I thought, Tony— I— god I’m so stupid.”

Tony stiffens, chest like marble and pressing against hers so hard she can feel his heart beating against her practically bare skin— deadly calm but beginning to pick up.

“Don’t you dare.” His voice is gravelly, grinding his words against her ear.

His hold on her loosens and she panics, her own heartbeat spiking rapidly in her chest— what is he doing? Is he leaving? No, no, no he can’t leave! She locks her arms around his shoulders as he bends down, shaking her head, the tears finally spilling over her cheeks, hot and angry and desperate. “No please— don’t go I’m sorry— I’m— please don’t leave me.”

She’s incoherent, not even sure that the words coming out of her mouth make any sense at all but she has to at least try. He can’t leave— not now. She can take a broken heart, she can take one stupid man, she can take having a sockless foot and a head that feels like its caving in— she can’t take her best friend walking away and leaving her in this obscenely bright hallway to fend the light off by herself. If she loses her home she’s done for. “Tony no you can’t— you can’t go.”

She’s sobbing, chest heaving, and she just barely registers the soft clink of the mug settling against the floor before one of his arms is slipping under her thighs, hauling her toes off the floor. His other arm remains anchored around her back, fingers digging into her side to keep her from falling. The sudden motion makes her gasp— a watery, broken noise— her legs pushing around his hips and clinging for dear life.

“Hey—” his jaw rubs against her temple, her cheek pressed against his shoulder, stubble scratchy enough to regain her attention— “I’m here, doll. Right here— you honestly might be an idiot if you think I’m leaving you.”

She chokes out a laugh. It sounds more like a whimper— like she’s scrounging for the last drops of happiness in her for his sake. Probably because she is. She tightens her legs around his waist, socked ankle crossing over bare ankle, sucking in a deep breath as his thumb rubs circles on her ribcage.

“I wouldn’t blame you if you did.” She sighs and his hand stills. “You were right.”

“Trust me— I wish I wasn’t.” His fingers crawl up her back, curling around the back of her neck, pushing the hair from her clammy skin.

The warmth of his skin on hers is like heaven and she tries to ignore the fact that he’s touching her while she’s a complete wreck. “You should hate me.”

His hand clamps harder around her skin, the sharp inhale he takes making his chest rise and push against hers. His fingers slip into her hair and he tugs gently, coaxing her to lift her head from shoulder. When she does she meets his determined, narrowed stare and his minute frown. Her heart clenches when she takes in the rest of his face, her gaze landing on the off purple bruises under his eyes, the tell tale sign that her best friend hasn’t been sleeping. It’s her fault— she knows it is.

He shakes his head, his brown hair ruffling slightly. “God, baby, you really are an idiot, aren’t you?”

Her lip trembles, her stomach squeezing— baby. “Tony—”

His forehead drops, his damp skin meeting her own, nose bumping against hers, drawing up the bridge and then back down— she can’t breathe. “You’re an idiot if you think for a second that I could hate you. For anything let alone something so damn ridiculous.”

He laughs a breathy, frenzied sound, nose drawing along her cheekbone. She must be dreaming. That's the only explanation as to the sudden lack of oxygen in the hallway— the only explanation to the way her veins are thrumming like guitar strings being plucked. This can’t be real. She feels like she’s going to wake up any minute now, throat raw and chest aching twice as much.

She opens mouth— she has to say something— but he keeps going. “An idiot if you think I wouldn’t follow you to the other end of the earth. Of the galaxy. Here you are thinking I hate you because you dated a moron? Because, what, I told you not to? Big deal— you tell me not to do things all the time. That’s what we do, baby. We tell eachother not to do stupid things and then we don’t listen.”

He pulls back enough to take in her face, eyes drawing over the curve of her nose and the slope of her cheeks before landing back on hers. His stare is intense— demanding, like him— she wouldn’t be able to look away if she wanted to. That’s impossible though; she could stare at this man all day and not get bored. She thinks back to all those days in his workshop, watching him fiddle with his suits. What she wouldn’t give to be there now, legs curled under her and his MIT hoodie— the same one on him now— pulled over her, singing along to their playlist and passing him screwdrivers. Her chest squeezes at the thought— she can’t remember the last time she did that.

His hand in her hair tugs again and she forces herself to stay in the moment, watching his lips form the words first and then letting her ears catch up. “He was a tool and you’re too good for that, alright? That has nothing to do with us. Point blank, whatever, he has no effect on us. Okay?”

She nods, her nose bumping against his again, and for the first time all night— all week— it feels like she can breathe. “Okay.”

His chest sags under her, the tension in his shoulders releasing under her fingers. “Good. Don’t say stupid things. That’s my job.”

“You’re right.” She cracks a smile, one that feels too foreign but entirely familiar. “You can have it back.”

Tony’s brows push together, head pulling back, his own smile beginning to carve over his lips. “Have what back?”

“The title of world’s biggest idiot.”

Just like that she’s giggling, throwing her head back and letting the laughter pour out of her. It’s cathartic— it’s natural. Like a dam breaking, it’s fast and dangerous and exhilarating. Before she knows it he’s laughing too, his forehead pressing against her shoulder, chest shaking, and she’s digging her fingers into his hoodie to keep herself steady. They’re definitely waking up everyone else in the compound but she doesn’t care. She only throws herself closer to him, hugging him so tight that she’s practically falling over his back, legs locked high around his stomach.

He turns his face against her neck, mumbling his words into her skin. “Missed you, doll.”

Her fingers slip into his hair, toying with the soft strands and sighing. “Missed you more.”

Groaning, he straightens, re-securing his arm around her. He passes her another smile, this one softer, more in control. She pulls at his hair in return, earning a half-hearted eye roll and the reward of him sinking his head against her hands. She scratches at his scalp lightly, scrunching her nose and trying not to giggle again. Now that she’s started she can’t stop— that’s his real super power; leaving her in stitches.

“You think you’re ready to sleep again?”

She sobers at his question, shrugging. She already knows she’s not. The thought of going back to her room and having to sleep without a pillow again, alone, makes her blanche. She would rather not sleep at all then do that. She may as well go make a pot of coffee if that’s her option. The answer bubbles in her mouth— no.

No she is not ready— but she has to be. She has to be a big girl. Even if it means sleeping with the window open so that she can’t smell her sheets, even if it means freezing because the windows are open and she can’t use her blankets, even if she would rather be tucked under the covers of Tony’s bed like the old days when things were normal and she was happy.

But she can’t say that— can she?

“I guess— you gotta’ put me down though,” is what she finally settles on, trying to keep the disappointment from her words. It definitely doesn’t work but for the sake of her sanity she pretends it does.

He frowns— fully this time— blinking at her like she’s grown another head. “Uh no I don’t.”

He says it sarcastically— like she’s crazy for even suggesting such a thing— his face incredulous. It makes her heart spike, adrenaline pumping through her veins. She’s missing something.

“Tony, what are you talking—“

And then he turns, starting down the hall, starting towards his room, and she shuts her mouth. She’s not going to protest— she’s not risking her chance.

She’s not an idiot.