#i haven’t posted art online in so long

[wittyhoid]

maybe he’s born with it maybe it’s maybelline

[elbowreveal]

So I’m finally going to say why I’ve been away, and unfortunately it’s sad news.

tw under the cut for animal death

My cat charlie suddenly went downhill a month ago and has now passed away. I spent the past month spending as much time with him as possible. I had known him since I was a child. Charlie was the kind of cat to sleep all night at the foot of my bed, then follow me into the kitchen and watch me make coffee, and follow me back to my desk for work, and back and forth and so on. We were very close. He lived a full life of over 14 years and I miss him very much.

ok. That’s where I’ve been. Back to playing Minecraft to drown my brain 👍

[claypigeonpottery]

How did you get into selling your ceramics? I'm interested in selling my stuff but have no clue how to begin

I started out selling on Etsy. I think it was a decent place to start. unfortunately the site’s definitely gone downhill since 2020, when I started. posting on Etsy did make it obvious that I had to learn to take good pictures, and taking that step has been a huge help in the long run.

in 2021 my spouse @subpar-lemon-bar and I set up some tables with a few other potters, outside my parents’ house, and sold my work. the sale went ok, though most of the people who bought my work were friends or acquaintances lol, so it’s debatable whether it would have been a success without their support

after that, I sold my work at a few local craft shows, sales, and a maker’s faire. some of them went great, a couple of them went badly. but it was a good experience and I think it was helpful for me to talk to so many people at events about pottery and art.

the easiest way to start that is, unfortunately, to know someone who organizes or sells at craft shows or markets, but you can also find yearly local markets and apply to be a vendor when they’ve got an event coming up.

I was offered a couple tables by artists who knew me and after we’d done a couple shows, we got to know a lot of the other vendors. you also need a decent amount of pottery if you’re selling at a market, unlike selling online.

in-person sales are a ton of work, and by the end we were always exhausted. but overall, we made enough money and enjoyed enough of it that it was very worthwhile

once I started this tumblr, I found I didn’t really need to do in-person shows. I never have to worry that my work is too weird or too naked or too queer on tumblr, whereas craft shows in a fairly conservative area were… not suited to all my work lol. I got a lot of comments on any piece with nudity, and not all of them were kind.

I also had a few of my pieces for sale in a local coffee shop for about a year. nothing sold, it just wasn’t the right place. I tried selling through instagram stories too, a bunch of potters would sell their work at the same time and post each other’s work. I didn’t sell anything. it was early on and I was a little disheartened.

if things aren’t selling, that doesn’t mean your work won’t sell. it might be that you haven’t found the right place for it yet

good luck!

[clowns0up-felix]

Hey! I just wanted to say that I absolutely love your drawings ! It has so much life in it, and I don’t know how you come up with those amazing designs for Link but they’re incredible! I never have enough imagination, lol 🥲😅. Seriously, what you do is so great that I’m at a loss for words… Anyway, I support you wholeheartedly, so keep up the amazing work!

Also, if you don’t mind, I’d love to know how you manage to create such dynamic poses and expressions in your drawings; I always struggle with that, haha.

Aaaaaa,I know I’m talking a lot, but are you still working on “Reversal of Fate”? If so, I’d love a little drawing of Link, if that’s not too much trouble 🥺☺️. But if you’re too busy, that’s totally okay too! 😊

WAAAAHHHHHH!!! Thank you sooo much this really means a lot like actually 🧡🧡🧡🧡 I love your art it’s so nice to look at and I get super excited when it pops up on my feed!!! (I especially LOVE ur sksw Zelda and Link designs ^^)

I also value the reversal of fate link fanart you did so much,,, 😢😢😢 Your support means sooo much

I feel as tho ur art already is so fluid and fun so idk if this is actually gonna help u much :( but if it does in any way then yipeeeee !!

Something I wanna add for improving posing (or anatomy, it really helped me with it) is doing figure drawing! There’s great online websites with models that u can sketch and just get better at doing good posing quick :D Or using reference in general,,,, my art is so messy tho, there’s so many better artists you should look for help to haha IM SO SO SORRY IF THIS DIDNT HELP AT ALLLL

About reversal of fate, yes I am still working on it!!!! I haven’t been posting about it because there are some lore asks I’ve gotten that have been kinda intimidating me so I’ve been quiet about it ehehe

Here’s some rof Link (right one is a sneak peek at a piece I’m working on which I’ll probably post in like so long from now bc there’s so much I have to work on urghhhhhh) ;)

Thanks for the lovely ask 🧡

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Would I be the asshole if I refused to pay my phone bill?

📱🧾♿️ <- To recognize my post for later :)

The title is probably already a bit of a red flag, but I genuinely didn’t know how else to word it…

For context: I am a disabled, chronically and mentally ill trans guy who recently turned 20. I haven’t left home yet for a lot of reasons, some being that my parents promised to let me live rent-free so long as I was in college (which I am, just not currently for the summer) as well as the fact that they really haven’t raised me to be very independent and rely solely on them (which is honestly a whole other can of worms), but primarily because of my disability. It isn’t safe for me to live on my own, as I faint commonly, cannot stand up for more than maybe fifteen minutes at a time roughly, and sometimes am unable to eat for long periods of time due to debilitating nausea which leads to weakness. I also have severe chronic pain in my limbs and gut, something I’ve had most of my life, while my chronic illness I’ve only had for about a year and a half now and am still struggling to adjust to.

Because of my disability, I also can’t work a traditional job. I offer art commissions online, because I’m very passionate about art and it’s one of the few things I’m good at, and I haul in a decent amount, but certainly not enough to live off of. I make enough to set aside some good savings (I’m currently saving for a wheelchair, as that might grant me more freedom and the potential to get a job at least for the summer) while also indulging myself in buying the occasional fatty treat (I’m very underweight so that’s not an issue, and I was raised essentially in an almond mom household all my life, so this form of eating is really the only sense of control I have over my life, as I’m fully dependent on my parents elsewise).

The issue has come upon relatively recently. I feel like a huge entitled brat for it as well, and if others believe the same, I sincerely don’t blame you.

My mom sat me down the other day and said that she expected me to start paying at least one bill. She offered my cheapest bill (which would be for my phone; my parents bought it, and it’s theirs, they’re just letting me use it as my own.. I don’t own a whole lot of “my” items myself) and asked what I thought about that. I was fully honest with her: if I had a steady stream of income, I wouldn’t hesitate to offer to pay for all of my bills, but with the way it stands, I just don’t make enough month-to-month to regularly afford the bill. I also do my commissions through my phone, so if I could afford the bill, my phone would be turned off, and I’d be unable to continue.

My mom got very upset and started talking to me like a child (though she really has every right to, honestly, and I know that). She went on a very long rant about teaching me responsibility, and how I can’t rely on my parents forever, and that I need to grow up at some point… All things that I fully agree with. I sincerely want to! I want nothing more than to be fully independent. But the way it stands, my parents cover my entire medical bills and they pay for my meds… And I just don’t make enough to survive on my own, and I can just barely afford a meal or two from a sandwich shop I enjoy twice a month to keep my sanity in check because I’m usually bedbound.

I tried explaining to her that I would if I could, sincerely, and that I’m not trying to be a leech or lazy, but she wasn’t having it. She just scolded me and said that if I can afford to eat out every month, then I can afford the phone bill. But again, with the way things are, I don’t think I’d be able to do it every month without tapping into my savings, which again, is for my wheelchair so I can regain some sense of freedom for myself. I’m seriously debating just telling her no straight out, but I don’t know what the aftermath might look like…

So, sincerely: Am I in the wrong here? Should I just swallow my protests and cough up the money somehow? I really don’t know and would love an outside perspective.

[londonfoginacup]

Personal stream of consciousness around Liam and grief and moving forward

Every day I wake up and Liam is still dead. It continues to sort of feel like at some point I will wake up and that won’t be true, that he’ll be back, like he’s just on a trip right now. And I think that’s… a normal part of the grieving process, but it’s hard because it feels disrespectful, almost.

I only did 8 days of inktober this year. I had another ten sketched out already in my notebook, and now I wonder what to do with those. Some of them were good! (Some weren’t). I was older than Liam by a month or so, but for some reason I want to be able to go to him now, and show him those sketches, and say, I do art too! Aren’t you proud of me?

Death is a horrible and unnatural thing. It was never supposed to happen to us. We grieve because we were not made to lose people. We were made to love them forever. Grief is our body trying desperately to reconcile with a reality it was never made for. That is why it feels this way. We were not made for a life like this. We were made to hold one another in our arms. We were made to love each other. We were made for more.

I want to tell him that. That he was made for more than he got. I hope someday I can.

When tumblr started having polls, I always voted the Liam option, and in part that was because I love Liam and I would’ve chosen him regardless. But in part it was with the thought that, if he were to ever snoop on our community here, I wanted Liam to see that he had people in his corner. I don’t regret that. I’m sad it’s all I could do.

I was thinking about it earlier. About One Direction. I tried to slice it so many ways and I came to the conclusion that Liam and Louis are the ones that I think were the heart. I think 1D could’ve come back together to tour, make music, and so on, as long as it had at least those two. 1D could never exist without Liam. It just couldn’t. He loved them too much.

Obviously, I haven’t turned my queue back on. I haven’t felt right reblogging current day stuff about the boys. It feels like turning that back on will indicate being ready to move on, to some extent. And okay, I’ll never be ready so there’s that. But. The idea of turning it back on doesn’t feel right. Not yet.

That being said, I started last month preparing for Christmas. For the 25 days of fic rec I do, and the advent fic. And of course cards. I had decided just a week before Everything Happened that I couldn’t afford to do physical cards this year. And I feel ten times more guilty about that decision now, because it feels like surely people NEED that! But I am also trying to be realistic with myself; so many wonderful people have offered to help financially, and any other time I think I would’ve taken them up on that, but right now the emotional and mental weight of doing physical cards might also be too heavy.

Which, again, makes me feel like I’m letting people down when they need me. If I could, I would send all of you personalized letters every day. It is so hard to reckon with the knowledge that I am only human and must take care of myself.

But I will do the fic recs. that’s easy; I’ve already finished the post graphics.

And I will do the advent fic (I might change my plot— the original one didn’t have a lot of Liam, but i think I need him there more).

And I will make some sort of digital cards for sure. It occurred to me this year that I never put my paper dolls online anywhere and I sort of wonder why not. At least maybe this will be a treat for anyone too wary of sending a stranger online their address— all of you can print th paper dolls for yourselves. I’ll make plenty of outfits.

So. That’s my plan, I suppose. I’ve cried writing this more than I’ve cried all week, I think because it’s easy to think that I am past the worst of the grieving right up until I have to look head on at the facts again.

I miss him. I miss him. How could this happen.

[dairymistress05]

My thoughts on the Luke and gf situation. It’s long so bear with me. Also, I want to preface this by saying that this is my opinion, because I don’t know them personally my opinion and many others that have been posting about it doesn’t actually matter in the end.

With everything that has happened in the last several days, I wanted to reflect and discuss my thoughts. First, 2 things that are baffling to me.

1. Why is it so difficult for people to separate the art from the artist?

2. Why do people think their opinion is important to the discussion?

Believe it or not the only people that are allowed to have an opinion in Luke’s relationship, are those who are directly involved

I honestly can’t believe the amount of people that I am seeing saying things like this ruined the show or makes you not believe anything. They’ve been telling us all along, he and Nicola that they were just friends. Do I have an opinion as to why I may not believe that that’s completely true? Sure. Does my opinion matter matter at all? No. This is the thing, it’s unbelievable that people think they can go on the Internet and bash this person because they decided to live a life different from what they projected in their head. Para social relationships with celebrities are fascinating. Also, the internet is forever.

Tom Holland once said “if you have a problem with me, text me, and if you don’t have my number, you don’t know me well enough to have a problem with me.” And I think that’s a perfect example of why this is getting so out of hand. No one on the Internet posting their icks now knows Luke well enough to have a problem with him.

As a 38-year-old married woman myself, I haven’t been convinced there wasn’t anything going on as they are extremely touchy-feely friends. However, there were rumours about a girlfriend and then when the photos came out well then I guess that confirms it. Do I think that’s the end of it, No, but again my opinion doesn’t matter. But there are also several factors why even if Luke and Nicola were interested in each other why they would hold off. Their work relationship being paramount among those reasons.

As for the photos, as an outside observer who has seen Nicola help him through his anxiety this press tour I don’t feel that was a hard launch. He seems extremely uncomfortable in those photos. His body language is off if it was an intentional launch on his part. He’s walking ahead, even the handholding seems awkward. However, the girlfriend unfortunately looks extremely smug, smiling directly into the cameras. I am personally inclined to believe that it was her or a friend of hers who called it in because he doesn’t seem prepared to be photographed. I’m not sure what to think about their relationship as of yet but these photos don’t portray a lot of confidence. Also, the age difference seems like it could become an issue but the thing I would worry about becoming an issue is the social media presence mismatch that is pretty obvious. Sorry, even if I was a dancer I would not want to be posting some of those videos, as I said, the internet is forever.

Lastly, the only other person whose opinion maybe matters is Nicola herself and she has come out to post several times all in defence of him and his character. She is obviously seeing all of the hate online and saying hey guys stop it. I like him. He’s nice. He’s my friend. Quit being mean. And I’ve seen some people say that it’s all Nicola and he doesn’t reciprocate when she’s posting about him and blah blah blah I disagree and here’s why the other day on his IG stories, and I can’t believe no one is talking about this, he posted a photo of a scene from episode 6 to remind people that it’s now streaming and maybe I’m reading too much into it, but the photo he posted he is exactly when Colin is telling Penelope “I won’t let her ruin our night“. (Photo attached) Who is her? I don’t know. But I also don’t think that things on social media are coincidence, especially if you’re a celebrity posting because they know that everybody over everything. And then I also found it quite interesting that he posted on his stories the speech he gives Portia about proposing out of love nothing less and that’s where the real cut off. So again, I think it’s intentional to show appreciation for his friend.

Some final thoughts, I definitely feel like there is a strong connection there whether it’s just friendship or not. I think a lot of people posting online are putting a lot of the owners on him, but what if Nicola didn’t want to date someone that is so much younger than her? What if she doesn’t wanna date at all right now? What if they agreed that? Although there’s a strong connection work relationship is more important right now because of future seasons of the show? We don’t know them. We don’t know the situation and act like you’re devastated about two people that you don’t know not in a relationship seems rather silly.

The only thing I would worry about in this whole situation, is if this relationship with the girlfriend will sour the friendship. Like if it was her who called the paparazzi will she still be comfortable with her boyfriend being in this type of public friendship with Nicola? I sincerely hope so because they seem to have something special even if it is just platonic best friends. Their close friendship is part of the reason Polin works so well on screen.

Anyway, agree or disagree, just my two cents.

I would love to know your thoughts.

[15-lizards]

In the spirit of the Olympics: ASOIAF characters and their Olympic sports

Jamie Cersei obviously a tennis doubles team thanks @melrosing for ur big brained art. Tywin is their coach and has been abusing training them since they were like seven. Consistent natty champs but haven’t scored a Wimbledon title yet and have yet to get gold at the Olympics (they have one bronze one silver). Mostly because Cersei breaks her racket every time things start going wrong. Also because Jamie is so full to the brim with shame and need for daddy’s recognition that he starts breaking down almost immediately once the point gap starts to widen

Brienne is a long distance swimmer she’s the Katie Ledecky of Westeros no one can touch her do you see her wingspan??? Usually finishes 5-15 seconds before everyone else sometimes other ppl aren’t even in the frame. Has multiple gold medals at this point and has been to the Olympics twice before she even turned 20. Lesbians go crazy over her online

Arya does some type of shooting and she’s like those tiny little teenagers that show up and blow all of their grownup competition out of the water. Steady hand and crazy aim. OR she does fencing and has a super unique style that gets the internet really into it for a couple of weeks. OR judo in the lightweight class. She’s so talented 🙂‍↕️ she’s definitely medaled at her first games when she’s like 14

Sansa is very obviously a figure skater like!!!! Of course she is!!! She is obsessed with her lines and artistry and takes ballet classes in order to improve her fluidity. She’s a young star in women’s singles, mostly for how graceful and fluid she is when she moves, and for her very gentle/pretty/romantic choice of costumes, music, and choreography. But she really wants to do pair skating mostly because she wants to have a romantic story to tell at their wedding (yes Joffrey is the potential partner)

Dany plays field hockey and she is sooooo cute and fun and peppy off the field and is so charming during all the interviews and always gives the girls a great inspirational speech and is just a very good leaderly figure in general. And then the game starts and you see a 5’2 platinum blonde sprinting towards u with blood and malice in her eyes and a big stick in her hands. She wants gold and by god does she get gold. Occasionally body checks ppl but she’s just too small for rugby.

Robb is a young rugby star he’s so handsome and muscular and all of his interviews go viral everyone’s obsessed with his training videos that the team TikTok posts. Soooo good too he’s on the Olympic team at 18 and he’s just sprinting down that field and dominating the game. But he’s so oblivious to it all the love when ppl ask if he’s dating anyone he’s like why would I do that I have to bulk up and focus on my game 🤨 and then runs off to meal prep with Theon (who does not meal prep but is obsessed with him)

Jon is an ice hockey guy to me. So dark and brooding while he’s sitting on the bench and he’s all locked in when it’s time to start playing he’s just so serious ab it he lives for The Game. But every time his buddies score a goal he goes absolutely batshit crazy and just loses all composure. And when they win he starts ugly sobbing. There’s a viral photo of him after winning his first gold just standing on the podium with snot and tears running down his face while the rest of the team is like 😁😁😆😄 him and Robb train together but Jon has absolutely no media training every interview is a disaster

[nekropsii]

what do you see in equius ?? genuine question i don't mean to sound rude but to me she's just really offputting. she gives me such creep vibes that i can't seem to get over and every time i read a page with her it just gets worse..... like when i first read nep & eq's chats i was sitting there wondering if this was outright abuse or at least bullying of some kind??? it felt like it idk.......

but honestly i do wanna see an equius liker's opinion on him because i can't understand it like at all and i'm probably just missing something that all the equius likers saw and i didnt LMAO

Well, considering I’m an Alpha Trolls Enthusiast and have been for, like, a decade, as well as having Horror as a Special Interest since age… What, 3? I’d say I personally have a pretty strong stomach for Weird and Offputting in fiction, lol. Stronger than most. Equius isn’t a very palatable character at all, I’ll be the first to admit that - a lot of the characters I enjoy the most in Homestuck aren’t very palatable… But I find ‘em real interesting, personally. The fact that they aren’t palatable adds to the intrigue for me, and poor execution tends to be a total weakness of mine. Again, Alpha Trolls Enthusiast for a decade straight.

I have a post here that talks a bit about my reading of Equius, I’d recommend giving it a read. I see Eridan and Equius as being very similar characters - not necessarily due to their shared hemoloyalty, but because they’re both teens falling down online pipelines. They’re very prevalent Kinds Of Guy that no one wants to talk about.

But people talk about Eridan plenty even to this day - he was even a fandom favorite for a while, being the fandom’s first Prettyboy Sad Gay Anime Prince long before Dirk… So he doesn’t reel in as much interest for me as the chronically overlooked Equius.

If there’s anything to know about me, it’s that I love a good underdog.

Equius-Likers, from my experience, are very aware of his issues. It’s part of the draw. Enjoyment of him tends to be an analytical fixation. I haven’t met a single Equius-Liker that hasn’t had some very complex thoughts on him. They’re just kinda quiet about it. Fitting.

Unfortunately, I’m Aranea But Real, so. No quietness here.

Your response to Equius is valid. It’s also intended, I feel. To specifically address the bits about concerns of his relationship with Nepeta not being healthy… I mean, it’s not abusive, but it’s definitely more complicated than fan art would lead you to believe, as always. “Complicated” is to be expected from a Moirallegiance - remember what they exist for?

Nepeta is very much so in control of the things going on, and their relationship is pretty equal, all things considered, so I wouldn’t be worrying too much about that. She very distinctly does not lack agency here - Nepeta is the one who has a leash on Equius, not the other way around. Equius is mean, because that’s the way she is to… Everyone, more or less, but she’s not of any danger to Nepeta. They have a fine Moirallegiance. 1,000% more functional than whatever the fuck Karkat and Gamzee had going on.

Anyway. I think Equius is neat, and has both missed and oft overlooked potential. One of the very few characters I’d be 100% down to have seen more content of in the comic.

Once again, check out this post. I still think it’s decent. Maybe you will, too.

[chronically-ghosted]

i totally agree that it’s ridiculous for people to write fics for films that haven’t been released yet, but the problem isn’t the smut itself. people have every right to write porn if that scratches the itch.

i think your main point is the most important: it’s impossible to write a thoughtful, inspired fic when we don’t even know the story it’s based on. no one knows who this character is or what he’s like.

at this point, everyone should just call a spade a spade and write pedro rpf. all they care about is seeing his face in different situations.

so my earlier post was not so much a statement on Pedro Pascal Character fanfiction/porn, but the commercialization of art and I interpreted the thoughts and opinions of others through the lens of the medium I most often express myself with, which is fanfiction.

let me be clear: i have no problem with smut - pwp or otherwise. people are allowed to write whatever they want, about whoever they want, with whatever tropes make them happy.

my overall focus (and granted it was probably very muddled by the end of those - what, like three reblogs?) was an interrogation of fanfiction as art, and the state of art in this modern era. and after doing some more thinking and listening to more people much smarter than me (thank you to everyone who dm-ed me directly to talk further about this), my opinion is thus: the creation of content (not art) is more ubiquitous today is not because we are getting more stupid as a society, not because of our failing attention spans, not because we are on the brink of moral collapse but because we physically do not have the mental strength to be intellectually curious as a direct result of constant, distracting, emotionally-draining stimuli.

i can explain what i mean below the cut with two primary examples, specifically regarding the shift in fanfiction cult, and yes, the prominence of smutty oneshots in the pedro pascal character fandom of which this blog is a part of.

I have been in various fandoms for almost twenty years. I have been writing fanfiction for almost that same amount of time. In recent years, I've noticed two trends that initially discouraged me, but that I now believe is a symptom of our adjustment to a modern, constantly online era.

A severe lack of engagement within the artistic artifacts of a fandom

The quality of the fanfiction itself (because yes I do consider fanfiction to be an artform) has gone down hill - mostly.

Lack of engagement:

Art is inherently created to be shared. This is especially true for fandom because the community lives or dies by how many people are interacting with each other and sharing ideas (news, theories, fanart, fanfic, etc). If you say a fandom is dead, it means there haven't been any new posts or fic about it in years. So I don't wanna hear it when people say, "oh write for yourself, you shouldn't be chasing engagement" because that is antithetical to the very concept of fanfiction.

In recent years, I have seen and experienced myself engagement in my work only so far as a like or kudo. This is not how it used to be. Message boards (yes I am that old) and niche fandom sites were constantly abuzz with media sharing and excitement, and everyone enjoyed some version of praise (unless you got hit by the antis but they're never fun anyway). Initially I blamed this drop in engagement on laziness: people just want the next thing, they can't be bothered to appreciate the hard work writers put in and they just see content and art as the same thing - stuff to consume.

But I myself am GUILTY of minimal reblogs and comments and I LOVE what I'm writing - the impact certain works leave me with is long, long lasting but for some goddamn reason, I can't sit down and praise the author's works. Am I lazy? Possibly, but this is also not an isolated behavior and it's on the rise: people do not have time to engage with fandom/fanfic like they used to. Most people I know have worked at least two or three jobs at some point in their lives to just to make rent. This gen z is the first generation in DECADES to be worse off economically than their parents. With an interest rate at 8%, who the fuck can afford the security of a home anymore? We work ourselves to the bone for scraps and the realization that The Dream has officially died. And so what do we want to do in the free time we do have? Engage with the very bare minimum. We want to read things that we can at best skim, things we don't have to think about or engage with in any meaningful way. We want a way to turn off the noise of the next apocalypse and sometimes the best we can do is the tap of a thumb.

Which brings me to my next point: what the fuck happened to thoughtful fanfiction?

But this question is inextricably linked to the points above: oneshots are easier to write, faster to write, and if you write fic that is basically "Mad libs porn" (without ever engaging in the actual medium because it is literally not released yet), you are doing the most minimal work for the most amount of engagement. But I can't fault ANYONE for doing that. It feels good to be told your smut is "so hot" or "this exploded my panties" and in this era where the time available to create is so fucking small and minimized of course you're going to write for the most popular character, whether or not you're interested in the source material because we want our art to matter to someone. Intellectual pundits loooove to lambast our "shorter attention spans" but fuck, when are we allowed the time to think - in between this "100 year storm" that's happened twice in the past five years, or the global pandemic that turned millions of deaths into a political punching bag, or the next video of a white woman crying wolf to the police over an innocent black man, or - or - or - or

In a day where reality and the world as we know seems to be holding onto a thread, we turn to comfort: comforting tropes (dbf to rape/kidnap fantasies), comforting fanfic (pwp), and comforting ways to engage with fandom. There is nothing wrong with wanting your art to be appreciated and there's nothing wrong with inherently wrong with pwp - but I do believe its symptomatic of a MUCH larger and more sinister movement within ALL art right now.

I come from the generation who banished fanfic authors for scrubbing off the filing numbers to their fics and publishing it as original content because, in our communities, they were selling out. Fanfiction is inherently an act of rebellion. Every time you write fanfiction you break canon, an established structure with its own rules and boundaries. So by trying to appeal to the masses, to curb your own writing to fit whatever is mainstream, you are doing a disservice to yourself AND to the art of fanfiction. If something you write becomes popular, wonderful, great, you are very lucky and there is nothing wrong with that either. But do not sell out your 13 beloved fans who WILL take the time to leave a comment, who WILL take the time to reblog because your weird little fic spoke to them on a fundamental level and now is with them for the rest of their lives - in favor of a 100 thumb taps.

If you've made it here, thank you very much for reading. I've added some links to some additional references to see how this concept of "populist" art is having a serious negative down turn in the quality of art, but is also not any one individuals personal failings:

Why the world is addicted to background tv by Kayleigh Day

How Modern Audience are failing cinema by Like Stories of Old

Rupi Kaur episode of Rehash podcast

I'm always here to talk fic and art and what makes you excited about your writing. Much love and please rest. We need you here.

[ginnsbaker]

In Flames I Sleep Soundly (1/2)

Summary: What do you do when you find out that person you trust the most is a liar? Or the Unfaithful AU that I've been wanting to read for a while.

Word Count: 9k+

Warnings: Angst, Smut (18+), Cheating/Adultery, Implied Het Sexual Content

Author’s Note: I was thinking about making a separate tumblr for fics (since I primarily post fanarts), but I’m too scatterbrained two maintain more than one account. I recently saw Unfaithful (2002) again and thought about doing an AU based on that movie. The title of this fic are lyrics from "Wedding Song" by Yeah Yeah Yeahs. No betas. And I won't apologize for how imperfect this monster is. I haven't written in more than a decade, so let's all suck it up.  

AO3 / Part Two / Masterlist

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Part One

Summer arrives in Westview, New Jersey in a fairly conspicuous manner. Its parks have been repainted with various shades of green, and the oversized trench coats on the streets that its residents are so fond of during the cold months are nowhere to be found.

Despite these observations, Westview remains a sleepy town. At least it is to you, but that's probably because you’ve spent half of your life in Manhattan. You and Wanda moved to New Jersey a few months ago after you were promoted to branch manager. The salary that came with it was enough to pay off your student loans including Wanda's, so it was easy to accept the offer despite the trade-off of having to move to a relatively unknown and rural town.

"It's only temporary," you told Wanda when you broke the news. "My supervisor said that if I can prove myself there, I can come back as a regional manager."

Wanda had assured you that you had her full support. At the time, she was working part-time at a small gallery for up-and-coming artists in the state, and while she needed to start somewhere to realize her dream of becoming an art dealer, she figured it wouldn't derail her career so much if she could learn art trading online.

Everything happened in a blur after that. In two weeks, you were driving to Westview with nothing but two suitcases and your dog, Sparky, on Wanda's lap. You held her hand while she slept throughout the entire trip and you faced the unknown roads that led to your new life.

The house they picked for you and your family exceeded your expectations. Granted, you had to subsidize a percentage of the move-in fee, it was a small price to pay to have so much space. The bathroom alone is larger than the guestroom of your previous two-bedroom apartment in Yorkville. On the first day, Wanda had explored the house with a childlike wonder, while Sparky tried to cover every inch of its ostensibly boundless backyard. That night, with only a blanket laid out on the floor, you made love to Wanda and then some more on the kitchen counter and the bathtub upstairs, inside the master's bedroom.

You've been married to her for five years, but a fresh start gave you two the sexual appetite of newly weds. It didn’t take 48 hours to christen every room in the house.

By now, a routine has been established: you wake up at five in the morning to go out for a run, back at home by six, and then showered and dressed for work before seven. Wanda, on the other hand, would try to get up before you're done with your ceremonies to prepare breakfast. She's not always successful–sometimes waking up long after you've gone to work.

"You want some coffee?" Wanda wakes you out of your stupor. She's still in her nightgown, holding two cups of freshly brewed coffee. Her auburn hair is up in a messy bun and she is, after all these years, a sight to behold.

You look at her and then at your left wrist to check the time on the Rolex she gave you as a wedding gift. You still have a few minutes, but there's an urgent staff meeting that you're a little anxious about.

"And maybe some omelet?" Wanda suggests when you don't answer, already cracking some eggs in a bowl.

"Sorry, babe, got to run." You shake your head apologetically before walking over to her and kissing the back of her head. Wanda merely continues whisking the eggs for a while before commenting, "Until when are you going to have these early meetings?"

"I don't know. Maybe the end of the month?"

"You're the boss. Can't you just call them off? Maybe schedule them during actual office hours?"

You shrug and say nothing, unwilling to engage in an argument so early in the day. Wanda exhales heavily at your lack of reaction, which compels you to reach for her hand and stroke it. Seeing how she’s not pulling away from your touch, you move to hug her from behind.

"I'll try to be home early tonight, okay? I miss you too." You say softly and kiss her cheek.

"I didn't say I miss you." Wanda deadpans, but she's already turning around in your arms for a proper embrace. You kiss her forehead and let her hold you for a few beats. She buries her nose in your neck and inhales deeply. “I told you to stop wearing this perfume. It makes you unbearably enticing.” Wanda admonishes you with a hungry look.

It’s embarrassing how easily your wife can turn you into a bashful teenager with a little flirting.

“Well, maybe you should do something about it.” You playfully taunt her.

“Maybe I will.” Wanda says in a low voice, and she’s close enough for you to notice the total lack of green in her eyes.

As much as you want to rip her silky lingerie and take her right then and there, the fact is you are already going to miss the first few minutes of the meeting–and then maybe a quarter of it if you don’t leave soon.

"I really have to go. But first things first," You grab one of the two cups of joe and Wanda starts giggling when you drink from it in one go. "Best coffee in the world. Maybe you should start a cafe business."

"Idiot." Wanda taps your nose affectionately, before shoving you towards the door.

Later, you arrive home just a few minutes shy of midnight. The house is deathly silent, even your dog could not be bothered greeting you at the door. You go straight to the bedroom, making as little sound as possible, to find Wanda asleep on her side, facing away from you. You get rid of your clothes and climb into bed. You carefully inch towards her and press your front against her back, spooning her. You hear her breath hitch, but before you can start thinking of an apology, you fall fast into a dreamless sleep.

***

It’s two months later and on a lazy Sunday afternoon, when Wanda breaks the news that she’s been offered a temporary position at Westview Institute of Arts and Sciences. You’ve watched your wife gradually grow restless each week, having a difficult time adjusting to life in the suburbs. Wanda interviewing for a job wasn’t as forthcoming as her asking you to move back to the city. Taking the job would mean integrating with the community in a semi-permanent way. So it’s a surprise that Wanda would even consider it.

"Assistant professor?" you ask distractedly, not looking up from the Jonathan Tropper novel on your lap. Wanda’s perched on one of the barstools of the breakfast counter, waiting for her banana bread to be done in the oven. Sparky lays at her feet, also waiting for the banana bread.

"What do you think?" Wanda muses and drums her fingers on the table.

You regard your restless wife for a moment, before closing the book and tapping the spot next to you on the couch. “C’mere.”

Wanda does as she’s told and Sparky follows after her.

"I think it’s a great opportunity and experience to have. But I thought you're getting a lot of projects from Upwork."

You try not to sound too partial to the idea of her working in the university. However, if you’re being totally honest, it would essentially solve the problem of your wife’s mild existential crisis– and your guilt of probably causing it.

"It’s just a side-hustle,” Wanda argues. “Besides, they’re going to need me only three times a week and they offered me a full-time pay.”

“Sounds too perfect to be true.”

Wanda shakes her head. “I don’t think so. It’s not unheard of that there’s a huge demand for educators in small-town institutions.”

“So you’ll take it?”

Wanda nods with a smile and then says, ���Only if you’ll drive me in the morning.”

“Of course, baby.” You say almost instantly and give her a quick peck on the lips. It doesn’t even matter that Wanda has her own car since she hates driving with a passion.

"Professor Maximoff." Her potential designation rolls off your tongue coolly. You’ve never really pictured Wanda in academe before, and now you can’t get rid of the image of her in a perfectly tailored suit.

The corners of Wanda’s mouth quirk up in a dreamy smile. "Kinda has a ring to it, huh?"

"A very sexy ring to it, professor."

Wanda giggles as you go ahead and think of ways to sneak into one of her classes some time in the near future.

"I'd tell you I've gotten a job at Baskin' Robbins and you'd say I look hot in their uniform." she points out.

"I bet you're hotter with all your clothes off."

Suddenly, the oven dings and Sparky starts barking at Wanda.

“And you’ve got a one-track mind,” she mutters with an undercurrent of mirth, before getting up to return to her baking. “Ten points from Hufflepuff!”

You burst into a fit of laughter. “Can’t blame me for having a hot wife. Also, I’m a Gryffindor you vexing Slytherin!”

Wanda can be the biggest dork at times, and it only makes you fall for her a little harder in these moments.

She sticks her tongue out at you. “Dream on, Badger Queen.”

***

It’s some kind of Hollywood domestic bliss.

You still wake up at five to go out for a run, but now Wanda’s your running buddy and you’re always trying to catch up with her pace.

“I can’t believe this gives you more energy than coffee.” she said the first time she laced up and she finished her run a minute faster than you. You thought it’s ludicrous that Wanda was a natural athlete on top of her good looks, but you figured it was an organic truth given that her brother played professional soccer for a couple of years before he got into the business side of sports.

Most days, you’d let Wanda clean up first while you cook breakfast. On one occasion that you joined her in the shower, Wanda turned up so late in class some of the students were already preparing to leave.

“That can’t happen again.” Wanda told you.

“Whatever you say, babe.”

You’d been married to her long enough to know that Wanda often broke her own rules. Historically, you’d watch her do so with satisfaction just because it’s usually an unspoken challenge between married people. And maybe because it reminded you that she’s human. Imperfect as much as you were.

“Just be careful, Y/N,” your best friend, Natasha, told you a month into dating Wanda Maximoff. “Mistakes and disappointments are inevitable. Hell, even I will let you down at some point in the future.”

“You have. Many times.” you said jokingly.

“Is that right? Look, all I’m saying is it’s also not fair to Wanda if you put her on such a high pedestal.”

Natasha was right. However, it wasn’t like you could change who you were and how you loved. The night you met Wanda at freshman orientation, you knew she was the one. You loved her through college as her closest friend as much as you did when she began to see you in a new light thereafter.

And even now, as you stare at her sneaking a nap on the drive to her workplace, nothing has changed. It’s a cherished moment, no matter how mundane.

Your hopeless crush on Wanda never really went away.

You feel very lucky that she feels the same way.

***

You’re about ten feet from the door of your house when you hear scratches from behind it, followed by Sparky’s incessant barking. Quickly, you fish out your keys from your backpack and open the door.

Sparky jumps at you as soon as the door swings open, and then starts licking at your pants.

“What’s up?” you say, scratching behind his ears until he calms down.

You look around the empty living room and notice for the first time that Wanda’s not home.

You send a text to her asking where she is. Sparky is making whiny noises, while pushing his empty bowl towards you with his tiny paw.

“Sorry, bud. Let’s get you your dinner.” You say, picking up the bowl and bringing it to where you store his food. You open the cupboard to find a mostly empty bag of Merrick. Sparky patiently waits for you, wagging his tail. Wanda was supposed to get some groceries this afternoon.

You check your phone and find no new messages.

“Looks like you’re coming with me for a quick run to the grocery store.” You tell Sparky with a sigh.

Sparky tilts his head at you in confusion. You send another text to Wanda telling her you went out and ask if she’s already eaten, before heading out to your car once again.  

You don’t hear back from Wanda long after you’ve had dinner by yourself and it’s almost midnight. Your anxiety levels are at an all-time high, and you’re about to call the cops when you hear her car approaching the garage.

You’re waiting by the door, so at the very second she slips inside the house, you hoist her into a desperate embrace like a mad woman.

“Where were you?” You exclaim as you pull away and clasp her shoulder blades hard. “I’ve been worried sick and you went dark on me.”

Wanda winces at you, gently prying your fingers from her. “My phone died and I forgot to bring my charger. I was writing the final exam that I have to turn in by tomorrow, and got carried away. I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t do that again. You couldn’t have borrowed someone’s cell or call from the school?”

“Like I said, I was working,” Wanda rolls her eyes, just a tad snidely. “It’s Westview. What’s the worst that could happen to me? Please let it go, I’m so fucking exhausted.”

It’s not that you’ve never heard your wife curse before, but you can’t help but flinch given the context at which she’s said it.

“Fine,” You clench your jaw, stepping out of her way. “We’ll talk about this in the morning.”

“Sure.” Wanda says stoically.

You don't talk about it in the morning. Or at all.

***

The forecast is you’re not going to hit this quarter’s targets. You’ll be two to three percent short, and everyone is telling you there’s not enough time to pull off a new campaign and drum up enough business to meet the numbers.

Your stubborn nature beseeches you to try anyway. It is, of course, at the cost of being stuck in front of your laptop in the dead of night.

Wanda approaches you to see if you need anything before she goes to bed without you. You smile at the sweet gesture but shake your head no.

“I’m good,” you say.

“Are you sure? I’ve got us fresh tea bags.”

“Positive.”

“Okay, good night.” she offers you a faint smile and starts to leave the room.

“Wands?” you utter abruptly.

She pauses and leans against the door frame. “Yeah?”

“Do you love me?”

“Of course, I love you,” Wanda drags her feet back to you. “What a silly question.”

“I guess I’m just feeling silly. We’ve been working hard, and when we’re together,” You let out a mirthless laugh. “We’re still working.”

Wanda nods solemnly but doesn’t speak. You can’t see her eyes with just a lamp lit on your desk and you're oddly grateful for that.

“I just miss you.”

“Me too.”

“Okay, uhm,” you fidget, suddenly feeling self-conscious. “Good night.”

“Good night.”

***

You wake up to wet kisses all over your face, only to be sorely disappointed to find out it's just Sparky, while Wanda looks at you softly as she waits for you to shake off the residues of sleep.

“Baby, I need a favor.” Wanda says.

"Good morning to you too." You reply good-naturedly.

Wanda ducks her head sheepishly. "Sorry, I've been waiting for you to wake up. I've said ‘good morning’ in my head, like, a hundred times." she tells you.

You silently brush a lock of hair from her face, before scooting closer to her and pressing a small kiss on her forehead.

"How can I be of service, m'lady?" you ask.

Wanda gets to it immediately. “There’s this painting I need from where I used to work. I need to bring it tomorrow, but I can’t take the day off. There’s no substitute because, well, I’m supposedly the substitute.”

“Sure, I’ll drop by there after work.”

Wanda makes a bashful noise of disapproval. “They’re only open until three-thirty.”

It’s a bad time to be missing work these days, but Wanda rarely asks for your help with anything. She’d sooner ask a stranger than her partner. There's one ex-boyfriend of hers you actually got to talk to in the past long before you and Wanda happened. The conversation was short, with mostly him talking–or rather ranting about how Wanda never made him feel needed. He went as far as claiming that she emasculated him in many ways. You never agreed with his insinuations of it being Wanda's flaw, and that it contributed to the downfall of their relationship. You like that Wanda is not a damsel in distress and that she carries herself with an air of confidence that only a truly independent woman can exude.

Although it does feel good to be needed sometimes.

“I’ll take care of it.” You assure her.

“Thank you,” Wanda says, and then proceeds to give you a tight but fleeting hug. "Alright, I'm gonna go get ready."  

You plop back on the bed with a huff. You haven't gone out on a proper date with Wanda for months, and you don't know how much longer you can survive this routine of late nights and rush hours. Maybe a vacation isn't too improbable by the end of August. Wanda's always wanted to visit Maui and, but you've kept deferring it until next year. A year has turned into two, three, and you don't realize it until just now that she's stopped mentioning it to you.

You make a mental note to search for discount flights later. Or maybe you can start with something more feasible like, say, lunch?

"Wands?"

The noise of the running shower drowns out your call, so you lumber from the bed and towards the bathroom.

Your mouth goes dry at the view of Wanda's soaked body, nostrils flaring at her stupid rule of no sex before work.

Wanda turns around and your eyes drop lower.

"Jesus, Y/N!" she gasps, then lets out a breathy laugh.

"Sorry," you lie, smirking at her nakedness. "Should we go out for lunch later?"

"I'd love to," Wanda says. "But I've got a lunch meeting with the dean."

"I see." you say and linger by the door. The crestfallen look on your face doesn't go unnoticed by your wife.

"We can have dinner," Wanda proposes tentatively. "Maybe drive to the city for some steaks and a dive bar after?"

Your eyes light up at her suggestion, heart brimming with repose.

"I'll pick you up at seven," you say. "It's a date."

Wanda throws a wink in your direction before turning back around to lather herself with your favorite soap.

-

Finding a parking space in Soho is almost next to impossible. You've only been living out of Manhattan for a couple of months, but it already feels like the population has doubled since. You're thinking about just leaving the car somewhere near the island and using the subway, when a woman enters your view and you step on the break as fast as you could. There's a loud screeching sound to be heard before the woman is rushing to your door with every intent to pulverize you on the spot.

As soon as you roll your window half-way through, a string of profanities welcome your ears like a gunshot. What you don't count on is hearing them from a spectacularly familiar voice.

"You almost got me killed you fucking asshole –"

You tilt your head towards your assailant. There's no mistaking that pair of green eyes.

“Yelena?"

Natasha's younger sister stares at you wide-eyed before her face breaks into the brightest smile.

"Y/N?"

"I almost didn't recognize you. I'm glad you still remember my name." you say. The last time you saw each other was right before Yelena went to an English university that you’ve forgotten the name of(it rhymes with ‘weed’) and you were a freshman in college. Yelena was a brunette then; she used to wear thick-rimmed glasses and her hair was always up in a low ponytail. The Yelena in front of you has blonde hair, a nose-piercing, and a cherry blossom tattoo on her chest that trails down and disappears into the collar of her blouse.

"How could I forget the only friend of my sister who was ever nice to me?" she quips with a toothy grin.

You blush at the fond memory of tutoring Yelena and treating her often to street shawarma.

"That's not true. Bruce was friendly with you as well."

"That's because he was dating my sister and wanted to get on my good side. What are you doing here anyway?"

"Looking for somewhere to park. Do you happen to know any in the area?"

"I've got one if you want. It's just down the street, second corner to your right."

"You're renting a parking space in Manhattan? I'm absolutely impressed."

“Oh, no!” she exclaims. Then adds, "It's my roommate, Kate's. She's loaded."

"Are you sure it's okay?"

Yelena nods and you thank her as she lets herself in your car.

The parking turns out to be too narrow, and so Yelena has to get out before you slot your car in the spot securely. Afterwards, she asks you where you’re off to, and you tell her that you’re picking up a painting for your wife. You ask her to come with you when she expresses an interest in the gallery.

You reacquaint yourselves with each other on the long walk to Wanda’s previous workplace. The conversation is, for lack of a better term, enjoyable. Yelena has always been an easy person to talk to–a remarkable contrast to Wanda who is often a challenge.

“When did you come home?” you ask suddenly after a while of talking about your work and recent settlement at Westview.

“Two years ago.”

You’re taken aback by her answer, feeling a bit hurt as you process the new information. Yelena’s been here all this time. Why didn’t she try to contact you?

“My cell didn’t ring either, you know.” Yelena tells you as if she can read your mind.

“Nat didn’t mention anything. I assumed you were still in London.”

“Leeds. The British are right about us not knowing any other city in the UK.” Yelena chuckles. “I told Nat to keep her mouth shut about my affairs.”

Before you could reply, Wanda’s ex-colleague, Agatha, comes out with the painting in hand. Yelena saunters off to observe the artworks on display.

“Thank you, Ms. Harkness.” you say, accepting the piece that was about the size of Mona Lisa.

“Welcome, dear. Whoever bought this must be made with money.”

The painting is wrapped in manila paper and it makes you curious who it is for. It must be someone who held a high position at Wanda’s university.

You excuse yourself with a polite nod, unaware of the look of suspicion she directs at Yelena, as your companion trails behind you on the way outside.

“Someone’s got a crush on you.” Yelena bumps your shoulder with hers.

“Wanda seems to think so too. Though I bet she’s just a nice old lady.”

Yelena laughs and slaps your arm this time. “Dude, she’s not old, old !”

“Someone’s got a crush,” you tease her back. Then, as if on cue, a reckless motorist speeds through a puddle, causing a wave of wastewater to splash all over your shirt.

“Shit,” you hiss, frowning at the ruined fabric of your white button-down. Yelena takes out her handkerchief and proceeds to wipe the specks of grease from your neck and face.

“Come on, we have a washer in the apartment.”

-

"Sorry I couldn't come to your wedding."

The hot coffee you just sipped refuses to come down your throat.

Yelena snickers at the dumb look on your face and says, "I'm just messing with you."

Your veins pulse in your temple as you force yourself to swallow. Yelena’s having a field day with you, poking fun at you on every opportunity.

"I'm so sorry for not extending an invite. It happened pretty quick. It was just your sister and Clint, and then Wanda's brother, Pietro. Our reception was at a pub in Brooklyn, and just getting absolutely shitfaced." you rush out, toying with the sleeves of Yelena’s sweater you borrowed. It’s cozy despite the hot weather. And undeniably smells like her.

"I know, Nat told me. Hey, I'm not offended. Besides, getting a wedding invitation from you would've been weird because,” Yelena pauses, and then sadly says, “We haven't connected in a long time."

"Yeah," you agree with a rueful smile. You haven't spoken to or thought about Yelena since you met Wanda.

“What’s she like?”

“Wanda? She’s…” It dawns on you that it’s not easy to translate your regular daydreams of her into a description you’d share with someone else.

“Exquisite,” you say, after going over various adjectives in your head. “And driven and smart. A glass half-empty to my glass half-full.”  

“I’m happy for you,” Yelena mutters over her glass of Merlot.

“And Kate? How did you meet her?”

“We’re just friends.”

“Who are living together,” you point out.

“Best friends then.” Yelena says, unperturbed.

You smirk. “If you say so.”

“I’ve dated around, but I never really found someone who could replace–” Yelena bites her lower lip to stop herself.

Except, she didn’t have to because you know.

You’re both quiet for a while, before you break the silence with, “Anyway, thanks for the parking and saving my shirt.”

"You did take my virginity. That's something I can never repay you for."

You’re too shocked to react–she is too, at her brazenness–that for a while you just stare at her with your mouth agape.

Placing the coffee mug on the table, you get up on shaky feet.

“Sorry, that was a bad joke. I–”

“You know what, I should go."

"Oh," Yelena gets on her feet as well. "But your shirt?” she asks weakly.  

"I'll just continue drying it at home. And then," you look down at the sweater you borrowed from her. "I'll mail this to you."

"Don't worry about that, I haven't worn that in ages."

"I promise to return it."

"Okay."

"Alright, so," Not quite knowing how to say good-bye, you jerk your thumb towards the door. "I'm gonna head out now."  

Yelena closes the distance to give you a hug, which she keeps short when you go rigid at the proximity of her body and yours.

"Bye, Y/N."

***

Wanda cancels dinner at the last minute. You’re surprisingly amenable and just text her when she’ll be home. You decide to cook for Wanda and try to convince yourself it’s not because you just need to keep busy and not think about what happened earlier with Yelena.

***

It’s Wanda’s day-off and she’s overslept. You watch your wife sleep soundly on her stomach, without a care in the world. Like this, the years fall away from her face and she looks like the girl you strongly want to protect for the rest of your days. Your eyes scan the room, until they fall onto the chair beside the bed. Hanging over it is a newly-bought lingerie with its tags still attached to it.

“Can you stop being a morning person just for today?”

You avert your gaze from the piece of clothing upon hearing Wanda’s voice still thick with sleep.

“Hi,” you greet your wife, twisting your wedding ring on your finger.

“Hi.” Wanda greets back, peeking at you from the comforter.

“I made breakfast, who’d you like to join me?”

“Sure, just give me a minute.”

You think about telling her you’ll wait until she’s ready and you can go together, but there’s an air of unfamiliarity and awkwardness hanging over your head–even worse is you don’t know where these feelings are coming from.

You don’t mean to count but it takes Wanda roughly twenty minutes to meet you at the breakfast table. It’s easy to force down your irritation when she looks immaculate and very put together.

Together, you eat in silence. You try to make conversation but in the end, Wanda’s responses are clipped and unfocused, so you just concentrate on finishing your oatmeal.

"You and I had a pretty crazy schedule recently, so I thought I'd take the day off and do something together." you say after waiting for Wanda to finish her meal.

"That's great, baby," Wanda smiles at you, before getting up to take the dishes to the sink.

Sneaking up behind her, you gently place your hands on the curve of her waist, and your lips just beside her left ear. For a while, you massage the flesh beneath your palms, feeling firm muscles instead of softness you're used to. Wanda's body has transformed right under your nose, and while you appreciate her more toned figure, you hope she's not being too restrictive with her diet.

"Leave them, baby. I'll do the dishes later..." You press an open-mouthed kiss to the skin just beneath her lobe. "...after I do you."

She squirms in your embrace, and you interpret it as a sign that she's getting turned on from your advances.

"Y/N–" Wanda doesn't get to finish her sentence as you twist her around and gently capture her lips. While she kisses you back with her hand coming up to wrap around your neck, she doesn't make a move to deepen it, seemingly satisfied with lazy pecks that end sooner than you'd like.

"Can I take you back to bed?" You inhale her scent soundly as you nose the length of her stupidly perfect jawline.

"I actually have to uhm–the laundry won't take care of itself." Wanda reasons, but doesn't really pull away from your hold. You take this opportunity to slide your hands up her back, beneath her shirt, and you can feel her goosebumps from your eager ministrations. Only now, being this close to her, have you realized how much you missed your wife.

Ignoring her excuses to thwart your affections, your fingers find the hook of her bra with ease. You snap it free and hastily move to grab both of her breasts, squeezing them tightly. "God, the things they do to me." You groan. She gasps at that, and by now, she should be pushing her chest towards you for more, but she remains slack as ever, like an obedient ragdoll under your whims.

Something's not right, you thought to yourself. You pull back just enough to check, and what you find has you swiftly stepping back to give her some space.

The expression alone on your wife's face could send you to jail.

"Shit, are you alright?" You rasp, overwhelmed with self-disgust at the thought of causing Wanda the slightest discomfort. Were you just about to take advantage of your wife without her consent?

Wanda looks at you with regret that you couldn't quite understand.

"D-Did I hurt you?" You dread the possible answer, tears pooling at the corners of your eyes.

Wanda quickly closes the distance between the two of you and envelops you into a hug.

"Oh, baby, no you didn't. I'm so sorry I made you think that." She coos, rubbing your back in soothing circles. You sigh against her shoulder, carefully keeping your hold on her hips loose.

"I just missed you so bad these past few weeks, and I thought you wanted to… it's okay if you don’t. I'm sorry."

It breaks Wanda's heart that you're taking the blame for this. She feels annoyed and guilty at the same time, at how apologetic and sensitive you are to her feelings, as if they matter more than yours do.

"It's not your fault. There's just so much to do and I can't get in the mood until I tick off everything on my to-do list."

"I know. I’m sorry."

"Stop apologizing," Wanda chastises and it comes out harsher than she intended. "You're perfect. I'm sorry. I miss you too. So bad."

"I love you." You tell her, burying your face into her hair to seek more of the lavender scent of her shampoo. It used to frighten you how much the little details about Wanda affects you in big ways. But that fear has turned into comfort, and you've grown to trust her enough to be happily vulnerable around her.

It doesn't worry you at all when she says she loves you back after a long, mysterious pause.

***

Wanda starts driving herself to work and attributes it to her inconsistent hours at the university for the rest of the term. Sparky’s in the dog daycare now more frequently than he is at home.

***

Wanda has gone up to take a shower before bedtime.

You just finished scrubbing the kitchen clean after having dinner together, and you're buzzing with the prospect of getting laid tonight. Your tactic to get your wife to sleep with you is to offer her a massage after witnessing firsthand how hard she's been working lately. In a way, you also want to show your appreciation for everything she still continues to do in the household. And although she accidentally burned the lasagna, she outdone herself with the roasted chicken.

It still amazes you to this day that you’re married to Wanda Maximoff.

Making as little sound as possible, you climb the stairs and towards the bathroom. You can hear the sound of water hitting the floor, and you can't help but imagine Wanda's naked body, lathered in soap, her brunette hair sticking to her clavicle. Your mouth waters at the prospect of taking her, pressing her against the wall and reminding her what you've both been missing for weeks. And just like that, your earlier tactic is out the window.

With practiced ease, you wrap your hand around the doorknob and twist it as gently as you can.

But something unexpected happens.

Wanda's locked the door. "That's odd." You mumble to yourself.

You decide to knock instead. "Baby?" You call out.

No reply comes for several seconds, and as you were going to leave, thinking she didn't hear you, Wanda's breathless response echoes through, "I'll just be a minute! Did you need something?"

"Hey! Uh, no. I was just going to–" You suddenly feel like an idiot wanting to sneak in for some surprise sex. "Never mind. You locked the door?"

"Oh, did I?"

"Yeah! It's fine, I'll just use the toilet downstairs."

She doesn't say anything else to that and you awkwardly turn on your heel to actually use the toilet downstairs.

***

You google ‘ how busy are part-time assistant professors’ on the second straight-week Wanda’s been going home later than The Late Night Show with Jimmy Fallon.

***

Your best friend finally comes around and visits you in Westview. Although you wish it weren't on pitiful circumstances that warranted her special skills of exposing people and their secrets. Even to this second, you're still unsure if you really want her help. You can't even be sure of your own sanity. The only thing you know is that you feel more like yourself now that Natasha's here with you. You've made new friends in your new neighborhood and at work, been invited to weekend barbeques and the local cycling community. But the sense of being alone has never been this strong as when you were living in the city, barely keeping any sort of acquaintanceship and let alone a meaningful friendship.

“You know I don’t do this anymore.” Natasha claims with a huff. "And typically, consultation alone will cost you a grand."

“And I never thought I’d ever ask you to do this.” You shake your head apologetically as you help her deposit her luggage in the trunk of your old Mercedes Coupe.

“I still think you’re just overreacting.” Natasha says as she settles in the passenger seat. It's what you want to hear, but instead of pacifying you, they urge you more to dig for the truth of it all.

"Weren't you always telling me in college that Wanda's too boy-crazy to really be with me?"

Natasha rolls her eyes. "Yup. But then she married you, and I lost ten bucks to a wager with Clint."

"You wagered on the most important event of my life?" It's the first time you're hearing that two of your closest friends gambled on your critical life choices. You're not exactly surprised per se, but it makes you curious about what made them choose which side of the coin.

"Well, no," she answers nonchalantly. "We wagered on almost everything. Like who would you lose your virginity to: Carol or Maria. Two beautiful women who had been throwing themselves at you for a whole semester."

"Who won that bet then?"

"Nobody. Remember when we bought you drinks after you finally slept with Wanda? That's where all the stakes went. We both lost."

"So after my marriage, what else did you put your money on?"

Natasha smiles. "None. That was the last of it. It's not right to give odds beyond a happy ever-after."

If she notices your deathly grip on the steering wheel, she doesn't comment on it.

***

Wanda's serving you the cold-shoulder for not giving her a heads-up about Natasha. You try to ask her why it's such a big deal, and she begins ranting about dinner portions and the “chaos” in the living room: some skewed pillows and a bundle of her students' reaction papers on the center table. Natasha is outside, waiting, so you try to help Wanda straighten the room but she merely dismisses you and asks you to drive for take-out.

"If it's too much trouble for you, we'll just get dinner somewhere." you say.

Wanda narrows her eyes at you murderously, as if you've just made things much worse.

"Fine," Wanda says with finality as she walks up the stairs. "Give my regards to Nat."

And then she's gone, but not before slamming the door of the guest bedroom shut.

You're absolutely fuming when you go back to the car and Natasha peers at you questioningly from the passenger’s seat.

"You in the mood for pizza?" you ask instead of explaining why you can’t still invite her in.

Natasha scrunches her nose in disgust. "Pizza in New Jersey? No, thanks. How about Chinese?"

"Sure." you nod in agreement, having already lost your appetite anyway. You toss the car keys at her. "You drive."

-

You're laying on your back, staring at the ceiling. Wanda hasn't uttered a single word to you ever since you got home from dinner with Natasha.

"She used to spend the night every week at our apartment." you whisper in the darkness.

"What?" Wanda mumbles and shifts onto her back as well with an arm draped over her eyes.

"Natasha," You clarify. "So it didn't cross my mind to inform you that she's visiting. It's just how it's always been."

Beside you, Wanda is mute as a statue. She does this sometimes–tune you out. Wanda claims it's her way of circumventing her anger and saying something she might regret.

For all you know, she could be telling the truth. But to you, it just feels like you're being punished.  

"Wands?" you try. She rolls to her side with her back to you.

You're in hell every time you fight with Wanda. Returning to normal is not an option unless you fix it. You wonder if it's the same for her, or if it's something as trivial as running out of toilet paper or an expired carton of milk left in the fridge.

"Baby?" you try again. It seems like it's all you ever do these days. "Please?"

You hear Wanda release a ragged sigh.

"We're fine, Y/N. Let's just go to sleep."

You nod to yourself and finally let go of the tears you've been holding back. Subsequently, Wanda's cold hand reaches for yours and locks your fingers together. It makes you cry harder, but you can't let her know.

***

Natasha is still radio silent a week after you’ve asked her to spy on your wife.

It's not like her to be slow with the results. You take the lack of news as good news.

***

You wake up in the middle of the night to find Wanda's side of the bed empty.

"Wanda?"

"Hey, baby."

You rub the sleepiness off your eyes at the sight of Wanda’s puffy eyes.

“Are you crying?"

Wanda chuckles, shaking her head. "Sorry, I was watching this movie. You know how I get."

You grin at that. "My big crybaby." You sit beside her on the couch and she snuggles to you.

For a while you stay that way, your fingers playing with her hair, and Wanda, palming your cheek affectionately. It brings you back to years before, when she was merely a close friend who would lay her head on your shoulder while she cried about some guy who didn’t deserve her. Like this, Wanda seems so small and vulnerable. You’ve come to realize a long time ago that whatever she’s done, or is to do, you will always feel the need to protect her at all cost. That was the last strip of armor you had given up when you decided to love her until the end.

Then all of a sudden, you see a flash of brown and you end up on your back as Wanda straddles your hips, her eyes darker than you've ever seen them.

"Take off your shorts." She commands in a rush, her own hips already starting a rhythm. You do as she says, but you only manage to move down your shorts and underwear past your ass, when you feel a finger swipe at your wet slit.

"Fuck. Patience, baby." you moan, feeling yourself get slicker.

"Don't have any," Wanda rasps and she sucks the very same finger into her mouth before taking over your undergarments and sliding them all the way down to your ankles. You've barely kicked them off before she spreads your legs and doesn't waste any time tracing your intimacy with her tongue. Her patience comes back eventually, but you're about to lose yours when she doesn't do anything else other than softly brush the tip of her tongue from your tight hole to the underside of your clit. She does this over and over and over, until your legs begin to tremble from being spread out like an eagle for what seems like an eternity.

You clench your core and try to come just from what she's doing, but it's not enough.

"Please, I need more." You manage a whisper although you're unsure if Wanda heard you.

"I've missed you so much, Y/N." You feel her say against your pussy. "I've missed making you feel good. Missed feeling this way with you..."

What way? You want to ask, but your brain is too muddled with lust to care.

You could only grunt in reply, before Wanda is pulling away in order to arrange your position on the sofa. You've almost forgotten how physically strong she is, and it turns you on so much, you nearly peak. Wanda grabs both of your ankles and pushes them back, until they're on either side of your head, near your ears. Heat spreads across your face and down to your neck for being exposed like this. Wanda takes a moment to appreciate the mess she's made between your legs, her teeth digging at her lower lip. You can't bring yourself to watch her watch you, and you stare at the same spot before you feel her lift your chin to kiss you in the most delicate way.

"I love you." She murmurs against your lips. Every fiber of your being is ablaze as you take in the smallest details of this moment: your taste that you two shared in a kiss, the mingling scent of your arousal and hers, the endearing sweat on Wanda's brow that's making her more desirable than any lingerie could ever. You'd never admit it to Wanda, but sex was something you only learned to want and need when you fell in love with her.

You smile up at her. "I love you. More than you could ever know."

Her face crumples in an aching manner, but before you can register what that means, Wanda has crawled back to the source of your pleasure and takes your clit in between her lips. She starts sucking at it gently, while her hands work their way to your buttocks and then spread your ass cheeks. In this way, both of your holes are exposed to the air, sending a chill down your spine and threatening to make you come any time soon.

A finger experimentally prods at your other entrance, making you whimper as your slick continues to brim in your cunt hole.

"Wands, gonna cum," you moan as you hold onto the edge of the sofa for dear life. Wanda ignores your warning and continues rubbing at your crimp hole, while her tongue quickens its laps against your clit. It doesn't take a few more seconds before you're bursting, and Wanda plunges her tongue into your pussy at precisely the second you start to come so you don't clench around nothing.

Soon enough, the tremors subside and Wanda wipes her mouth before she gives you a searing kiss.

You're still catching your breath when Wanda lays her head on your chest so innocently, as if she hasn't just given you the best orgasm of your life. You wait a few more seconds for your heart rate to go back to normal, and once they do, it’s only then that you notice that Wanda's still in her pajamas, fully clothed.

That needs to be rectified. Immediately.

Without a word, you get up with Wanda still on top of you. You make her wrap her arms tighter around your shoulders as you bring yourself into a standing position while she clings to you like a koala. Wanda laughs at your attempt to hold her up steadily, simultaneously impressed that you actually can.

"I've been going to the gym whenever my lovely wife's stuck at professoring ." You snicker at your own terrible wordplay, as you plant your feet firmly on the floor.

You miss the shadow of guilt that passes over her fleetingly. "I can see that," she says, biting her lip as she feels your straining biceps. You grin up at her, before carrying her upstairs as steadily as you can while she distracts you with kittenish nibs at your earlobe.

Once in the bedroom, you lay Wanda gently on the bed, your movements slow and delicate as if one wrong move could ruin everything. You start to undo the buttons of her silky top, holding her gaze with a look of adoration typically reserved to deities. It's only fitting because Wanda Maximoff is your religion.

"Wait, can you–" she glances at the night table to your right, and you understand right away what she wants. You quickly retrieve the flesh-colored strap-on at the bottom most drawer. And as you start putting on the harness, Wanda leans forward to capture a dusky nipple, effectively sidetracking you from the task at hand.

"Baby, just a sec..." You chuckle at her apparent neediness. Between the two of you, it's Wanda that's been more in-touch and expressive with her carnal needs. More exciting. More daring. More adventurous. She's always been more in everything, and you sometimes wonder if she's weary of leading the wallflower to the dancefloor all these years.

"Hurry." Wanda whines, her teeth nipping hard enough to play the line between pain and pleasure.

As soon as the harness is secured around your hips, you push Wanda back onto the mattress. You hook one of her creamy thighs over your shoulder, holding it firmly while your other hand aligns the tip of the toy to her slit. Pressing a languid kiss to her knee, you start moving your hips to brush your cock along the length of her drenched sex. Wanda moans lowly and unabashedly, and you feel yourself getting wet again.

"Fuck, baby, inside..." Wanda mewls, her hands traveling downwards to massage her own clit. You grunt in protest and seize her hand, interlacing your fingers together to prevent her from touching herself. Increasing the rhythm of your hips but still not entering her, you give her a warning, “ I make you cum.” It’s not like you to engage in any sort of powerplay in the bedroom, and yet you couldn’t help but let out some of the resentment that has built over the last few weeks through the sex you’re having with her now.

Besides, Wanda seems to love it. You look down just in time to see her wetness trickle down to the sheets. You groan loudly from the visual and roughly position her to lie sideways. You keep the thigh over your shoulder secured, while you straddle the other one. Moisture begins to form at the back of your neck, muscles straining to hold this position. Wanda’s face reddens as you stare at her weeping cunt, before her eyes roll to the back of her head as you unceremoniously enter her in one, powerful thrust.

“Fuck!” Wanda cries through gritted teeth, her French-manicured nails digging painfully between your knuckles. Unlacing your bruised fingers from her, you then wrap them around her throat. You’ve never done anything like this in bed before, and you watch in twisted satisfaction as Wanda’s lust-filled eyes widen in shock and slight panic. The way you're grinding into her is viciously savage, callously chasing your own high. Wanda tips her head back as far as she could, her chin pointing to the heavens as she experiences an other-worldly kind of pleasure.  Your thighs grow slicker from your shared arousal, the stench from it filling your nostrils. Her hips try to match your tempo and an animalistic sound rips from your throat as your movements become more and more frantic.

"Shit, baby, I think I'm gonna–"

"No." You lightly squeeze around her neck.

"Please," Wanda sobs in frustration, staving off her impending release. You pay no heed to her request as you slow down your motion to keep her on the edge.

"Say it again." You demand.

"W-what?"

"Say you love me."

"L-love you..." The length of your spine curves as you bend forwards, pushing Wanda's thigh back in the process and opening her up even further.

Wanda whimpers at the new angle you're fucking her with wild abandon. "Jesus, Y/N. I can't-"

"One more time. Say it." You plead against her mouth, increasing the speed of your thrusts again, but this time you’re determined to finish her off.

With a sharp cry, Wanda clenches around your cock and comes, screaming those three fated words that are simultaneously your salvation and your undoing. You try to prolong her orgasm, alternately pausing and then jogging your hips, studiously watching her facial reactions and loving the subtle twitch of muscle in her jaw. A couple of tears run down her cheeks, and you lick them gently from her face. Letting go of her delicate neck, you run a free hand across her back, gathering beads of sweat along the way. Without pulling out of her, you drop her thigh on your shoulder with great care, before pressing your lower body down so that your pelvis is snug against hers. Wanda grabs your face with both hands and pulls you down for a searing kiss.

You release her lower lip with a wet pop and then like an eager puppy, starts peppering her face with featherlight kisses, making Wanda laugh and squirm in your arms. "You're cute," You tell her. "And so damn hot. How is that possible?"

Wanda blushes, overwhelmed by the ferocity in your words and in your eyes. She starts jogging her hips as your kisses become more insistent, but then an idea hits you. Embarrassingly, you've never done this with Wanda before, but this time feels as good as any to finally try it. Wanda shivers as you unsheathe your cock from her pussy, leaving a thread of wetness across her inner thighs. Afterwards, you remove the harness and place the drenched toy somewhere on the floor. Wanda pulls you back on top of her, a sleepy and satisfied grin on her face. She's prepared to call it a night when she feels your hand wandering back to the still feverish spot between her legs.

"What are you doing?" She asks coyly.

Instead of replying, you merely continue to trail south until your fingers find her slippery nub. Wanda gasps, back arching and eager for more. "Lie on your stomach and stick your ass up in the air for me." You whisper in her ear, and she obeys without a second thought. Abandoning her clit for a second, you crawl towards the foot of the bed, until your nose is a trifling inch from your wife's firm buttocks.

"Are you ready?" You husk, planting your chin at the base of her spine.

Wanda is almost convulsing in anticipation, and barely manages a nod. Heart beating wildly in your chest, you spread Wanda's cheeks with your thumb to reveal her puckered entrance. When Wanda finally understands what you’re about to do, her head whips over to look at you, but she doesn’t quite meet your eyes.

“Y/N?” Her voice is muffled by the pillow, small and unsure. You massage the back of her thighs to calm her down.

“I want to if you do.” You tell her sincerely. Wanda appreciates your touches staying in safe zones, making her feel safe and secured.

“It’s just… it’s been hours ago since I showered, it's dirty and I don't want to gross you out-”

“That’ll never happen,” You promise. “Whenever you were snotty from crying over your exes, all I could think about then was kissing you. I'd never not want you, Wanda.”

“Okay.” Wanda murmurs softly, shifting back closer to you. “I’m ready.”

“Good girl.”

You place a pillow beneath her stomach so she can comfortably prop herself up. Wanda’s breathing picks up when you part her cheeks again. This time, there’s no hesitation or wasted second as you lick a stripe from the entrance of her cunt to the rim of her backdoor.

“Да, да, детка!” Wanda yelps in her native language, impossibly turning you on even more. You could count on one hand the few occasions you’d been able to reduce her to a Sokovian mess, making her feel so good she forgets her English. Wanda's flavor there is different, more pungent and oh-so delectable.

"детка, I need-"

Wanda doesn't get to finish her sentence. Knowing exactly what she needs, you plunge your middle and ring fingers inside her wet heat. You feel her anus contract against your tongue, and you take it as a cue to enter her with it. Wanda thrashes violently on the bed and tries to move away from the intense pleasure that's bordering on pain. Eventually, you find the perfect cadence of plunging your tongue into her tight crevice every time you withdraw your finger from her pussy and vice-versa. Wanda, on the other hand, finds herself wantonly humping the pillow, practically grazing her tumescent nub.

All of it lasts a few more seconds before you feel Wanda's imminent little death. You stop moving your fingers to allow her to take over her own release, until finally, Wanda collapses on her stomach. You lick your fingers clean before wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. You pull the blankets up to cover both of your aching bodies, before settling beside your wife. Wanda automatically lays her head on your breast and throws an arm over your stomach. You kiss her sweaty forehead, and right before you are about to close your eyes, something wet hits your flushed skin.

"Wanda, hey," You search her face, your eyebrows creasing in worry. "Are you alright?"

She smiles through her tears, nodding. “I am now.”

Your own eyes glisten, a wave of relief passing over you. Right now, with the way Wanda's looking at you, it's like you're finally waking up from a long, terrible dream.

***

When Natasha finally calls, you’ve practically forgotten about hiring her to investigate Wanda.

You’ve had a perfect week with your wife. Things weren’t just back to normal, they were even better not only in the sexual aspect of things (though insatiable doesn’t even begin to describe Wanda nowadays), but you’ve been talking and doing things together more than ever.

“Hey, Y/N,” Natasha’s rough voice comes through.

“New phone, who’s this?” You try to joke.

“Hilarious, Y/N,” you hear her try to lighten up her tone, but for someone who used to work for the secret service, she’s terrible at hiding her emotions from you. “Listen, I’ve been meaning to call you since early this week. I just didn’t have the time…”

You’ve known Natasha longer than anyone in your life who’s not your parents. Wanda’s the love of your life, but Natasha’s your person. You understand each other beyond words and actions.

“Nat, what’s going on?” you ask.

“I saw them, Y/N. T-Two days after you asked me to… they went for a movie at a worn-down theater 3 miles from the university. I waited for them to leave and when they did–” Natasha hesitates to tell you how she’s seen them together. “I can’t tell if there’s–if she’s… I can just show you the photos.”

You don’t say anything for almost a minute, and Natasha waits for you quietly.

And then, “Is that all?”

Natasha draws in a long breath. “No.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose, feeling a headache coming. And then, like a man on trial waiting for their verdict, you nod to yourself and square your shoulders.

“Alright. Tell me everything.”

[the-100-days-of-junkan]

Day 50

Wow. fuck it’s weird to think we’re halfway there. 50 fucking days of Junkan . . . How’s everyone holding up?? I’m still writing these in advance so I have no idea if Future Jem is holding it together having to wait day by day for these, especially as we enter the period of the project where a lot of our favorite pieces come in.

So anyway “No Regrets” There’s the fic again for if you haven’t  read it and are interested.

There is a LOT to talk about with this one. So much that I’ll likely put this in a read under once again. I’ve got history, fun facts, scrapped(?) ideas, and memes.

Let’s start with my history with writing in general. Because the biggest thing that comes to mind with this fic is that it was the first time in Four Years that I had ever written something.

When I was, say, around 15 or 16, I entered the Death Battle Community on Deviantart (I swear to god this is relevant and I won’t take too long). It did a lot of things for me, it gave me a source of income when I was confident enough to open commissions, it helped me make a small amount of close friends (eventually leading to even closer friends), is the community that introduced me to Danganronpa in the first place, and it’s where I first started writing.

Now obviously, what I was writing were fights between fictional characters, most often to the death. With some attempt at a logical outcome for the match. And the account is so old and untouched that it still has he/him pronouns baked into it. I still have a lot of pride in some of the work I did on that account despite the equal amounts of dumb bullshit, grammar issues, and a severe lack of proofreading.

But shock of all shocks, Rocky Balboa fighting an Anime Character (yes that’s really the last thing I published online, it was like 40,000 fucking words and it made someone cry allegedly), is a far cry from a fic about Junko Enoshima really wanting to swap spit with Mikan Tsumiki.

 Suffice to say, I was very, very nervous about writing again. However I’m a woman with too many ideas, and not every idea can be done through just drawings alone. Especially with how I was doing things at this point. This wasn’t the first time I had desired to try writing fanfic, I still have a RWBY x Kamen Rider W fanfic haunting my brain to this day. But it was the first time I had felt so tempted. However as you might have gleamed over time whether through these posts, or talking to me personally, I have a severe lack of self esteem, ESPECIALLY when it comes to writing. And it was even worse at the time of this fic. This was the biggest roadblock for the it.

However, Junkan broke me once, causing me to draw Angst shipping art for the first time. So it only makes sense that it would break me a second time, making me write a god damn fanfic. And I made plenty of memes about this too, which i’ll post in order of creation. 

As you can tell by that last one I was fucking nervous as hell making this, which is understandable since it’s completely new territory for me in a medium i hadn’t touched in years. However, enough friends who also liked DR seem to be into it, so I was able to post it.

My AO3 account was of course originally a secret because at the time of this fic being made I was still deeply paranoid over anyone knowing I shipped Junkan. Now granted CJ is kind of an obvious alias given y’know, it’s just the initials of my fuckin main account. However it does require that someone on AO3 also have a Tumblr account and also be aware of a chick named “Carbonated-Jem” who at the time was drawing a suspicious amount of separate Junko and Mikan art.

Last thing before I talk about the actual fic. This was posted February 4th. Which fucks with me because I’m pretty certain that means that the first 50 Days of this project (reminder that most of the colored ones were after the fact) were made before that date. Half of this project was done in One Month at most. How the fuck did I do that????

Okay. So the fic.

The idea was simple at first, what if Mikan saved Junko from dying at the end of DR1. And then it spiraled from there.

This is not something I plan to talk about on this blog or anywhere but the privacy of my friend groups very often. But I am not a big fan of Danganronpa 3, I have very little nice to say about it, but my biggest issue with that Anime is it’s handling of Mikan. I do not like that Mikan was boiled down to just being whatever that was in the anime, since while I’ll never say that it was definitely a perfect relationship even with what we had teased in DR2, I think there’s a lot of nuance to the way Junko and Mikan described their relationship (moreso Mikan since last I remember at most Junko just made heavy implications that she broke each class member one by one with unknown methods). So seeing it be . . . that in the anime, just never sat right with me. If it were not for events that will be discussed later in the project, I would have been fully adverse to this ship as a result.

As you can see now I’m not only all for the ship, I’m dangerously brainrotted over it dsljfhsdlaf. How things changed.

Point is, regardless of whether you like DR3 and how it handled this dynamic (In which case, more power to you despite my lack of understanding), I had less than fond thoughts toward it. So you can kind of see this fic as also like, a way of me trying to do something more productive with that negativity rather than just wallowing on it. 

I’m gonna be real until Mikan jumps in to save Junko I don’t feel very strongly about the intro. You can very much tell this was my first time writing in 4 years, and not just that but it was me writing Junko for the first time rather than drawing her, and to take it EVEN FURTHER this was at the time the closest I had ever gotten to depicting the canon versions of the characters rather than Non-Despair takes on the characters like I was for every pic before and after this. Which yeah spoiler, beyond I think 2 instances later (there MIGHT be more) everything in this project is non-despair in nature.

You can probably still look at a lot of the art as like, just them dating Pre-Tragedy I suppose? But that’s up to you and your suspension of Disbelief.

Tangent, sorry. Back to it where was I.

Oh yeah, so I don’t know when the hell the idea for the Neo-World Program being implemented came in. But when it did that’s when I had like a solid vision for where I was going.

I think originally Junko wasn’t going to enter the program alongside everyone else? But the more I thought about it, it was like the only sure way that she could get what she wanted in the end. Since if Mikan came back reformed, whether with partial memories or nothing at all it’s a hard sell to think Mikan would be willing to go back to Junko outside of the specific circumstances that brought them together in the first place (that said i can’t say the idea of Junko trying to win her back isn’t interesting). I’d find it more likely for a full reformed Mikan in this context to like, get with Hajime or Ibuki.

So I threw Junko into the program as well, despite my concernsI did actually have a lot of fun writing the interactions. Not just Mikan (we’ll get to her in a sec) but also with Makoto. 

Writing Junko’s first moments in the program was my favorite part though, from what I remember at least. Especially once she starts giving Mikan her full attention. And that’s where we finally get to the art piece.

So here is the singular fun fact about the art. Junko had the bear clips originally, but I realized after the fact since the Neo-World program put the cast in their outfits prior to becoming Remnants, it’d make more sense to give her the bunny and bow clips instead. So I edited the art at some point to make that more clear. 

Anyway here’s the interesting part. There was in fact a time where this was going to be a series. 

The original intention was always a Oneshot, but you know how the mind tends to wander, it was inevitable that I’d be tempted to think about what else could happen in this timeline. 

It would have mostly been a Slice of Life series, more rom-com elements. Focused on the developing relationship between Junko and Mikan, essentially kind of recreating how they first met and fell in love, albeit with less of the evil girlfriends stuff.

Another part of it is that because Junko’s plans are on a hard hiatus till she gets off the Island, and more specifically because of Mikan’s influence on her in these very specific circumstances, the NWP actually does start reforming Junko on some level. I’ve always loved the idea that Mikan could have the potential to help Junko become a better person, whether it’s a Non-Despair AU where that means she just stops being a bitch to everyone (or at least mostly stops), or in Canon where she ponders that maybe starting the apocalypse isn’t the best course of action.

I did plan to try and write the rest of the DR2 cast, which admittedly was a roadblock because I had no idea what the fuck I was gonna do for characters like Nekomaru for example. I’ve only really latched onto a small handful of the overall cast of DR, so i’m severely lacking in my ability to write most of them. I did plan for Junko and Chiaki to become besties though, I feel like under a normal context Junko would just think Chiaki was really funny.

So it would have mostly been romance and shenanigans, one way I thought of to just give random little plotlines for Mikan and Junko was the MonoMono machine. Have Junko just get a bunch of coins and gamble away at the thing getting random items. And then said items just make the plot for the chapter.

That idea is what made me think of the other half of this fics equation.

So you know how there’s a fucking painting of Junko made during the Tragedy??

First off, missed opportunity to have that be a “Love” item for Mikan, would have been great foreshadowing.

Second off, actual point. I was like “how the fuck is junko gonna react if she sees this??” So I realized that while I wanted to have this overall fic have a lot of fluff and shenanigans and Junko kissing Mikan. There is in fact the elephant in the room of what’s outside of the program.

So, why not have Junko by some means start remembering reality, and realizing everything she’s been responsible for. Most importantly, killing her sister and killing Chiaki (yeah I would have kept Chiaki being a real person and not just an AI, partially just cause I think that’d hurt Junko more), and then having to cope with all of that because by that point Mikan would have unintentionally helped to make Junko a less apocalypse hungry person. 

And beyond that I don’t think I had any plans to show like, the aftermath of the program working. Partially because I feel like that’s reaching a level of writing I’m not mentally strong enough to pull off properly, partially because I think keeping it vague similar to how DR2 did it would have worked.

Now all that said, on some level I would try to like writing that story. There’s just a lot of hurdles I’d have to get past first. Not just my normal “Writing makes me want to slam my head into the wall” issue, but also stuff like-

How do I write the other characters when I have very little experience with them?

I actually have to make a plan for this one, I can’t just wing it like I did for the Vampire AU.

I have to write the Canon version of Junko for a big stretch of it and as I already established I barely grasp how the fuck to do that.

I just have other things I want to do which includes other writing.

So if you’ve made it this far into my inane ramblings, would YOU dear audience like to see this fic? I can’t say for sure how soon it would be assuming the response is positive, but I wouldn’t be opposed to making the attempt if there’s even mild interest for it.

Anyway, thankyou for your time! Hopefully will be awhile before I yap this long again.

As always, Reblogs, Comments, and Little Notes in the Tags are appreciated!~ They always make my day!~

[darklcy]

☆ 𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐧! 𝐀𝐎𝐓 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ☆

this has been in the drafts for a long, long time and i haven’t posted aot in a while, so enjoy :) | also i feel like some of these may be ooc but this was fun to write! just keep in mind this is how i think they’d act in a modern setting, ofc minus the war & trauma

attack on titan masterlist

𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍

skips class to vape

smokes to thundercat & nirvana

flannels flannels flannels

naturally you steal them. acts coy when you do.

“you didn’t steal it, i just let you wear it and didn’t say anything when you went home with it.”

i feel like he’d be into meditating. idk why. like someone said he should do it so now he does a quick 5-min guided meditation every morning

showers with his chain on and gets green neck

doodles on his converse and yours

writes “hi :)” on your homework, journals, notes, etc during class

has a minecraft server w jean, connie and armin

claims he’s not scared of games like outlast or silent hill but everyone knows he’s lying

ends up hiding behind you in haunted houses

LOVES DRIVE THRUS/FAST FOOD. sonic & in n out specifically

toddler sense of humor, like finds things falling over funny (y’all remember the video of the piece of bread falling over-)

doesn’t know how to work pinterest

leans over people’s shoulders to look at their phones

tried getting his cartilage pierced but it got infected

has a few tattoos on his wrists and bicep

will bite you impulsively

𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐍

you mean my bf

so this boy DOES know how to work pinterest, and has so many boards

one of them is filled w future pets he wants & another one includes house ideas with you :3

is the best language learner and knows french, spanish, and german

can’t watch gory shows like squid game or the walking dead, but enjoys psychological horrors like black swan

has a billion playlists with like 6 songs each

your playlist is titled “lovey” bc i said so

has maybe one lobe piercing. but only one

he goes so hard to TV girl and mac demarco, but also loves singers like sza & jack stauber

LUVS SMOOTHIES

downloaded bumble only for the fun of it once but immediately deleted it when someone liked him

bounces his leg and picks his nails

best. skin. ever. has a good skin care regime

drives a silver toyota prius 

super into journaling & drawing :>

such a gentle bf, but lives for gossip

you text him, “you will NOT believe what i just heard.” and he drops everything he’s doing to respond

coffee dates!!!

you two have a stardew farm together with a dog and a bunch of chickens and cows

his favorite character is crobus

i love him very much

𝐌𝐈𝐊𝐀𝐒𝐀

hardcore alison from breakfast club vibes

secretly into girl kpop groups

but loves hardcore women, like björk & poppy

definitely owns a lot of platform shoes: has like three pairs of demonias

shaves her brows to draw them on 

loves online shopping from aliexpress & etsy

into weird chunky jewelry!! has a necklace with a heavy cat pendant & a pair of eyeball earrings

loves to do your makeup! if you don’t wear a lot daily, she’ll do something for special outings like concerts or even for fun she’ll ask you to let her do it :3

has a tiktok specifically for ootds

favorite foods include spicy ramen, mediterranean meals & ice cream

i feel like she’d be in art class! she’d draw you random portraits or cute versions of you two to put in her scrapbook

oh yeah i also feel like she’d have a scrapbook!!! and keeps a lot of mementos from your dates/hangouts

when you come over, you, her and eren play mario kart

no doubt a spiritual girly: maybe not super into spells but has a tarot deck and a few oracle decks as well as a beautiful incense burner

you two go to goth clubs cuz yeah

her lipstick gets on you all the time

dressed up as lydia deetz one year for halloween

makes rings and necklaces and gives them to you, and she debates on opening an etsy shop

— hope you enjoyed!

[brimstoneandstardust]

Hi! Very long time no see! I miss my blog and tumblr in general so I’m going to be doing an overhaul and posting again. After a really long time of getting my life in order and dealing with a lot of real life things, I finally have enough mental space to start writing again and have been posting on AO3 since September. I am presently just writing fanfic and posting as I’m able, no RP for now. I’m not able to dedicate that kind of time online to keep up with threads these days between work and kids and house maintenance. I won’t say I’ll never RP again but definitely not in the foreseeable future.

Blog will mostly be just fandom posting, fan art of mine if I get time to make it, and links to fanfics I’m working on.

I’m still very much in Marvel fandom (this year has fed me so well between Deadpool and Wolverine and Agatha All Along ❤️❤️ 👌👌) but my primary fandom right now is my OG fandom from back when I was a 90s kid which is Biker Mice From Mars. So you’ll be seeing lots of that. 🐭❤️.

To any of my mutuals still around I miss you I’m sorry for such a long hiatus and I hope you are all well and having a good holiday so far! I’ll be updating soon and making more changes, probably a name change as well but haven’t decided yet.

[idolomantises]

I think I’m gonna discuss this once and hopefully never have to bring it up again. Originally I wanted to talk about it on Twitter but people are very disrespectful when it comes to mental health so… ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Basically, I haven’t been doing so great, mentally. Nothing bad has happened to me, I’m safe and surrounded by people I care about, and it’s been like that for months. I just, I haven’t been feeling good.

For people who do follow me on accounts like Twitter and Instagram, you may have noticed I haven’t posted anything new since January. I was struggling to feel motivated to make something for my main accounts despite having countless ideas I’d love to work on. I feel better now and do plan on getting something done in March, but that sudden lack of motivation is pretty rare for me. Art is not only my job but a big hobby for me, I just love drawing. I did get some nsfw art done at least.

I don’t know what really prompted my mental health decline, I’ve been getting a few worried messages and fanart because someone insulted my art. But that didn’t hurt me at all, it actually boosted my account and patreon.

I guess I just… got sad?

I have a really bad tendency to suppress and even ignore my trauma and feelings of guilt. And I guess one day I really sat with my thoughts and I just, lost it I guess. I have so much traumatic memories and sudden and intense feelings of self loathing, something I’ve never felt in almost a decade, that it got overwhelming. I couldn’t reassure myself, I couldn’t really talk to anyone about it because how do you confront things that happened years ago? You feel almost irrational. It’s just memories that haunt you, it’s nothing physical or tangible and yet it’s a crushing feeling of anxiety, self hatred and resentment.

I was crying almost every day, and crying so much that my eyes kept hurting long after I was done, and I could barely see my own screen. I’ve had paranoid thoughts about myself and others, thoughts I can’t get into because they’re so deeply irrational. I was feeling suicidal urges and thoughts of self harm. I don’t see myself doing it, but it’s so frequent and overwhelming it’s like I’m already planning my suicide note.

I was talking to my therapist about it, that I was starting to hate being alive. That I hated living. That I could spend the next 50 years of my life with no more conflict or trauma and I’d still be in intense misery and turmoil. They’re feelings I couldn’t really bring myself to tell friends about because what could they say? How do you calm yourself down and reassure yourself. I can’t even talk about my trauma verbally without crying. And it’s funny because sometimes minor irks started to affect me negatively. I was feeling anxious about what to draw because I didn’t want to do deal with homophobic backlash.

I went to a therapist, I talked to friends, Ive been working out more and eating better, I did everything I should do to improve my mental health and all of a sudden a single night just sitting in my room destroyed everything I was slowly building up over the past 5 years.

It’s been really difficult for me. I think also, I just felt so much guilt over not being the best person I could be. I decided to lessen my online usage, not just for my mental health but because I really wanted to work on being a better person. I want to stop hating myself and letting my trauma push me down and I want to do just be better and do better as a person. A lot of people have been very forgiving and kind to me but I don’t feel like it’s enough and I want to do more and I want to feel better about myself. I want to give everything I can to people around me. I’ve been going to therapy a lot more lately and things are getting better for me, but it’s been a very slow process.

I just want to repeat that nothing serious has happened to me. Nobody attacked me in a way that negatively affected my health. A lot of people, friends and strangers have been really nice to me these past few months. I just was doing a lot of self reflecting and unintentionally forced myself to confront a lot of my trauma. I’m saying trauma a lot. I don’t want to get into depth about what I endured because it’s my business but people who do know me know how bad things were for me. I don’t want to feel like that again. I want to feel better, and I want to do better.

Sorry for the long read. That’s just how I feel.

[into-f0lkl0re]

Get to know me!!!

my name is faye!! my pronouns are she/they

i’m a lesbian! i’m 18! turning 19 in august!

i’m actually autistic + adhd (life is a struggle) (please be patient with me because i can not read social cues for the life of me and sometimes have trouble putting my thoughts into words)

i just finished my freshman year of college!! ( very scary!)

i have been writing for my whole life but writing fanfics since i was 13 but didn’t write for a long time and only recently got back into it!! i’m currently unemployed :( and have been looking for a job in my home town! ( i’m home for the summer ) i got to college out of state! i am an art student!

huge theater kid unfortunately (almost became a musical theater major)

i’m from new england! ( big noah kahan fan)

i love concerts so so much

i have been to so many

i’m an og chappell fan (yupppp ik big bragging rights over here)

i competitively swam my whole life i also did basketball ball when i was younger

i’m horrible at spelling ( it a problem thank god for grammarly)

i love reading but haven’t had that much time lately

i’m interested in writing for the uconn wbb team and iowa wbb team and wnba and some other college players like georgia amoore (loml)

i’m also interested in writing for

munagenius

chappell roan

wnba

if you want me to write for anyone else just ask

a couple rules:

hate will not be tolerated

i am pro palestine 🇵🇸 majorly

anytime i can speak up for Palestine i will

i want to be more that a place for entertainment i want to be a support system for you guys

if you need to get something off your chest or just wanna talk bb i’m right here

i will be your online big sister🙏 (acting as if i’m not the youngest in my family)

i am not responsible for your media consumption

If i write smut i am trusting that you are of age reading it but im not your mother.

at the end of the day you are responsible for you

golden rule

not every post will be a fanfic but i do wanna write a lot

i am comfortable writing smut

i will not judge with requests but if you request something i am not comfortable doing i will prob not answer so if you don’t get an answer that is most likely why

when i write i will try to write with little to know physical descriptors unless im writing about an oc.

I want everyone to be able to enjoy my writing and not feel I am writing about a certain race or body type

i will not write about men or do person x amab reader because i’m not comfortable with that

but if yall want me to write about someone that has a particular trait (physical or personality wise just ask because i will if requested)

everything i write is COMPLETELY FICTIONAL!!! In no way shape or form am i assuming somebody’s sexuality or gender identity or even who they are as a person. it is none of my business. so please keep that in mind.

i will make a master list so it’s easier to find my work i just have no idea have to do that so… (if anyone knows how please help🙏)

Big thing!!

I am a person like the rest of you. someone who is constantly growing and evolving. if you find something in my work incorrect or inaccurate please tell me anonymously or not

I really appreciate that kind of thing and i am all for growing and changing to become a more educated person

just be kind i feel there is a lack of kindness today and i think we all could use a little kindness

big forehead kissed💕

-faye