#i usually don’t put my ramblings in the main tags but the tag is so barren i felt like i had to | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sysmedsaresexist · 3 months ago

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Mod Quill with some feelings tonight as I scroll the syscourse tags in the usual pits of despair with a bag of popcorn and too little free time. As always, that show I sometimes stumble upon and leave running in the background while I do laundry is on, 24/7 it seems like. The TV station really loves running that particular producer’s re-runs.

I watch for a little bit, but the main character is just… painful to watch. She constantly pushes people away in some sort of way to get her goals each episode — but the series has never ended. It just is the same exact plot line each episode. It gets spicy sometimes when there’s a recurring plot line, or a story arc. They’re all a little… circular sometimes though. She gets sassy too, but that’s few and far between nowadays.

This latest arc, she’s clearly blue.

…

Okay so now that I’ve rambled enough on this metaphor about Sophie-

Her latest bait for trying to hurt a clearly traumatized person is just as painful to see as it always is. Just... god forbid she do something to actually further plural acceptance. I find it so ironic how she peddles that goal to her followers — The Future is Plural, right? — while consistently and actively working against it. She consistently tries to bait people who are against her in an attempt to prop herself up higher, never realizing that all the outside world is seeing is her stomping on others.

Blue-Bubonic is very clearly fragile, at least in my eyes. I haven’t forgotten their (pronouns unsure, but please feel free to correct me) first foray into syscourse. And yet she sees it as more acceptable to continue needling them -- and taunting that fact and touting it as a badge of honor -- in order to... do what? She's said she's painting herself as a villain, she's being the Bad Guy, but genuinely, how is that helping plurals? How is this helping further her goals?

She is quite literally attacking her own with this and further aggravating an already clearly traumatized individual. And she constantly does this. From my perspective, it must almost be fun for her, and if I remember correctly, she's admitted it's fun. She revels in it. I can't condone people who sit and just... soak in other people's misery. I have literally been working on overcoming some doubts of mine today due to harassment I received, simply because I said I thought people deserved better than literal death threats. And here she is, just... spreading negativity for negativity's sake. How is that helping anything? Isn't it just putting more negative into the world?

The worst part is, I agree with her on so many things. I have to restrain myself from reblogging her posts to my real blogs (you’re welcome, SAS, this blog isn’t real anymore, you’re free) simply so I can avoid syscourse there as much as possible. I’m also scared too. I’m scared of her. I’m scared to reblog something, both because her eyes might be on me if I do, and because the entire system community on tumblr that touches tulpamancy with a 5 foot pole is watching too. Every single action I do is not only scrutinized by her; it’s scrutinized by the community.

I just… wish there was a better way to spread positivity. I wish there were more The Plurality Of… posts, ones that aren’t written with the direct correlation of “let’s stick it to those anti-endos!” I would love more plural headcanons with the goal, “let’s uplift all plurals!” I try to do this as much as possible, but I’m one man.

I see her with her 😈 rightful anger (and I do believe she is justified in that anger, please don’t think I am saying she shouldn’t be angry, she has gotten so much shit that was undeserved, something I regret deeply playing any part of in the past, and something I want to apologize for now again)… I see her with that anger, and I just wish there were a way to help. I wish there were a way to turn that negativity away. I’ve managed it! I’ve managed to escape it in little ways. What am I doing that’s so different? It’s not because I’m a DID system and she’s not — lord knows I’ve had my fair share of harassment for my existence. It’s not because we’re different syscourse stances — I’m as pro-endo as they come in everything but label. Hell, shocker of all shockers, I’ve come to accept I have willed-to-life alters, so I can even relate to her way of existence, at least to some degree.

And yet, I feel so different from her. And it’s sad to see someone you agree with, someone who you know is just doing their best, causing so much harm for the things you also believe in.

…

So I turn off the TV. And I try not to watch. But in my head, my stupid writer brain gets the monkeys and the typewriters out. And it goes to town.

In my head, I’ve written a story where I sit down with her. Sometimes it’s discord, sometimes it’s via tumblr asks back and forth, and too often to count it’s some nebulous cafe somewhere where I’m drinking hot chocolate and she’s drinking some sort of white chocolate coffee. Not sure why that’s what I imagine, but it makes sense to me.

And I just… talk to her. Like a person. We set aside syscourse entirely and have a proper sysconversation. We talk about plurality and our feelings about it; we talk about how my disorder impacts me in similar and different ways to her tulpamancy; we even discuss how this very fanfiction-like-dream is, in a way, plural in of itself, because i don’t control what she says, not willingly. I guess she got her dream, an anti-endo (in a way) with a Sophie introject (in a way).

And I laugh, and she laughs, and it’s good.

And then I go online and see the latest callout post about why Sophie is a bad person. And I sigh, because I know they never work, and I personally know how traumatizing it is to have a callout post detailing everything you’ve ever done wrong.

And then I write up this, feeling like a hypocrite. But I want her to know, I’m not trying to paint her as evil. I don’t think she is. I think she’s just… a person, trying her best, and this is me publicly saying I disagree with her methods.

I hope the show reaches a final season soon. Maybe a spinoff series will get made. Crossover episode when? I vote for Sophie Through The Looking Glass as a sequel series name.

#sophiecourse #shit quill says #Mod Quill #look I’ve got a lot of feelings and Mod Dude said my words were good #❤️❤️❤️ Sophie coffee date when? 🤷‍♀️😈👀

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wifegideonnav · 7 months ago

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I'm new to Tumblr. How do Tumblr users usually engage with each other?

well first of all welcome haha. the main ways to engage with people are:

liking and reblogging. platforms like instagram and tiktok run on likes and an algorithm, but on tumblr, people almost exclusively use their dashboard and turn off suggested content, so they’re only seeing what people actually reblog onto their dash. that’s why people on this site are so adamant about reblogs, because likes basically do nothing. i saw someone say once that anything you would like on a different social media, you should reblog on here, and i totally agree. and don’t worry about how old a post is, or about reblogging something you’ve previously reblogged. there are posts from 2014 that i regularly see on my dash a decade later, so literally don’t feel awkward, it’s 100% normal to engage with old posts.

tags. there are three main ways tags are used: labeling original content so people find it in searches, internal organization systems when reblogging or posting (for instance, many people have a tag for their original posts, and will tag reblogs by fandom or character or whatever - important note that reblogs do not show up in search results), and to make sotto voce comments on a post. it’s normal for people to make jokes, add their own commentary, ramble about something semi relevant, or say something to op in the tags on posts they reblog.

reblog additions. every time you reblog, you have the chance to add something to the post, which unlike tags will be retained when someone reblogs from you. a good rule of thumb is to comment instead of tagging when it’s something you actually want other people to engage with, as opposed to tags where you’re just kind of expressing yourself lol. don’t be surprised however if you see people’s tags getting screenshotted and added to a reblog. if this happens because the screenshotter likes what the tag writer said, it’s jokingly referred to as “passing peer review.” (and of course people screenshot tags to criticize or mock them as well.) essentially, tags are like being at a big group dinner and saying something to the person next to you as an aside, and then sometimes that person goes “hey everyone listen to this”

post comments. there’s also an option on every post (unless op has turned it off) for people to comment on the post itself, not on a specific reblog. mostly this is useful for talking to people on personal posts or posts with reblogs turned off. on a bigger post, just reblog it and put your thoughts in an addition or tag.

asks. seems like you figured this one out! lmao. asks are used for a wide variety of things, but essentially it can either be a prompt for someone to make a post or a way of having an interaction/conversation with someone without dming them.

dms. these work like dms everywhere else, except the functionality is limited and it kinda sucks.

games. there are also many varieties of games that people play with each other, ranging from ask games (things like “rec me some music” or a post with prompts and people send you some from that list), tag games (typically there are questions you answer then you tag other people to fill them out for themselves) handwriting tags, follow chains, giveaways, name/url playlists, and more. with the addition of polls, brackets have gotten popular too (eg the tumblr sexyman bracket). there also used to be a lot of in-character ask blogs, where a user would set up a blog and roleplay as a specific character that people could send questions to (there still are some but way fewer and way less popular than there used to be)

to be honest i feel like i have to put “discourse” and “drama” on this list too. people on this site loveeee having the most insane arguments of all time and then everyone else memes the hell out of it. google “sonic for real justice” for an example lmao. (of course there’s also very unfunny political and fandom discourse that goes on as well. i would advise you to avoid discourse blogs as a general rule regardless of whether you agree with their position or not)

tagging people. you can also @ people in posts you think they’d like or if you feel like they have relevant input. typically this is something you would do either to people you’ve spoken to before, or a big blog with an established persona and rapport with their followers (eg if you follow a blog about snakes and you see a random post with snake info that seems wrong but you’re not sure, so you tag them to ask for their expertise).

and this isn’t a specific “mode” of communication but it’s also a thing to “interpret” (for lack of a better word) other people’s posts. for instance, people drawing a photo from the original post (i cant find it but there was a post going around recently where op posted an aesthetic photo of an egg cooking and then several people painted it), or people trying/recreating something a post was about (example). it was also a thing for a minute there where people would rewrite funny exchanges as shakespearean dialogue

those are all the ways i can think of, although im sure i’ve missed some (if other people think of any pls add on!). good luck, and i hope you’re able to meet some cool people!

#asks

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kaylinalexanderbooks · 7 months ago

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For the Writer's Ask Game!

1. Do you listen to music when you write?

17. What writing habits or rituals do you have?

27. Favourite line/scene

33. Have you ever killed a main character?

38. Weirdest story idea you’ve ever had

43. What do you do if/when characters don’t follow the outline?

-@forthesanityofstorytellers

Heyyy thanks for the ask! (From this writers ask game)

I actually already answered 27 and 38 here!

1. Do you listen to music when you write?

Yes, I do! Usually just pick something with lyrics. It helps me concentrate; I don't know why.

17. What writing habits or rituals do you have?

Habits? I usually write in the evening, between a nice shower and dinner.

Rituals? Make sure I have my water and music.

33. Have you ever killed a main character?

>:)

43. What do you do if/when characters don’t follow the outline?

I change the outline! I'm a bit of a Plantser. I have an outline, but I figure out a lot of things as I'm drafting or revising.

For example, I originally had Noelle reach a certain point in her arc in TSP Part Two. It was too fast in an earlier draft, so I slowed it down. However, as I was drafting this new version, I realized that her arc would not really work if I put her at that point by the end of Part Two. So I moved it to Part Three!

Thanks for the ask!

TSP intro

TSP tag list (ask to be +/-): @thepeculiarbird @illarian-rambling @televisionjester @finchwrites

#the secret portal #tsp #teaspoon #writing ask game #writers on tumblr #writing community #writers of tumblr #writing on tumblr #writeblr #writeblr community #ask answered

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g-oblincat · 1 year ago

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One of my favorite manga ended 3 hours ago and I must talk about it

I actually wrote this two days ago and of course, the finale comes out RIGHT when I was about to post lol

On Twitter, I used to maintain a yuri manga recommendation thread to keep track of what I read and recommend my fav works to others. Now that I'm back on Tumblr, a platform that actually allows you to write why you like something, I want to start doing more in-depth recommendations. Starting with this one!

Koroshiya Yametai (I Wanna Quit Being a Hitman!) by Tonoki Sun

Rose is a hitman who dislikes her job, but she has one thing to look forward to: dates with her girlfriend, Benika. However, not wanting to go on dates with a guilty conscious, she always confesses her sins (murder) to a priest in a confessional booth that hides both their faces. The priest, Father Shirafune, happens to be Benika’s actual biological father.

Rose doesn’t know the priest she’s told about all her jobs to is Benika’s father. Benika doesn’t know Rose is a hitman, and is also keeping her queer relationship secret from her religious father. Shirafune is curious about his daughter’s new “boyfriend”, and has no idea the “boyfriend” is the person who keeps confessing murders to him.

The initial chapters of Hitman remind me of Spy x Family, where the comedy and appeal comes from the dramatic irony and near misses of each character trying to keep their own secrets, but the tone is different. There’s definitely lightness and comedy there, but underlying is a story of Rose, a refugee fleeing her war-torn home and being forced to work as a hitman in a rich country who doesn’t care about her people. She’s a pawn for greater political powers, and the story is how she tries to break out of that.

A quick, non-spoiler list of why I like this manga - if any of these appeal to you, I beeeeg you to read this comic:

Really cute loving relationship between the main couple! But also: well-fleshed characters outside the main couple! Father Shirafune is GREAT

Plot is more political than I expected, in what feels like a very grounded, real way. The main plot of the story is about refugees that are discriminated against and mistreated and what happens in a country when that mistreatment reaches a boiling point.

I need to think more about the story to be confident in talking about this outside of surface-level observations, so I desperately want smarter people to read it so I can also see their takes haha

The writing is just GOOD and appeals to me specifically. The plot is fast-paced with no filler. There’s a good balance of comedy, lovely moments between the couple, action where you can see Rose get out of tough situations (more on this in the spoilers), and scheming and double-crossing between various political powers.

I read this comic on Dynasty Scans, translated by Gouma-Den. The site’s tags are usually good for content warnings - the main ones are violence/killing/etc. There isn’t a ton of gore though. I believe the raws are here. I don’t think it’s licensed as of me writing this, but you bet I’m buying it all if/when it is.

I want to ramble more about what I like about it below, but it will contain **spoilers**! All images are from the Dynasty Scans translation.

The precise way action scenes are written

The action scenes are super fun to read. Most of them are about Rose escaping pursuers in clever ways that don’t give out her identity, and focus on the steps she took to prepare for these situations and how she outsmarts her enemies. There is a similar appeal here to detective or heist stories where Rose is put in a tough spot, and you see how her knowledge and wild amount of foresight let her escape.

In general, I like the scenes where characters are thinking to themselves and trying to problem-solve in any manga, and this happens a lot in this manga. One of my favorite scenes is when Rose tries to figure out if Benika’s new friend is another hitman, without tipping off either of them.

I just think this is soooo cool. The story is full of Rose’s cleverness in these kinds of situations that is so fun to read.

The romance

The romance is so sweet. The girls have an adorable meet-cute and throughout the story, you really see why Rose likes Benika- she’s kind and energetic but doesn’t hesitate to give Rose a piece of her mind when needed. Rose clearly loves Benika a lot and is always thinking of her. The characters’ interactions feel cute but realistic, and they’re fleshed out outside of the romance, which makes me like them more as people and root for them more.

But also (huge spoilers ahead, please skip this paragraph if you plan on reading this at all) it’s soooo yuri to have one girl try to make a huge high-stakes emotional sacrifice for the other one while confessing that it’s all for love. And it happens in the latest chapter and I went wild.

The themes the story tackles outside of the romance

This to me is both the most striking part of the story!

The first, smaller thing that stands out is Benika and her hesitance to tell her father about her relationship because she assumes her father is homophobic since he’s clergy. Father Shirafune is not homophobic actually and the two have a good relationship otherwise, but it stands out that this is a consideration Benika has. I feel like a lot of yuri is characterized by being only about romance, not identity or society. Characters will like girls, but not be gay. I don’t think this is a bad thing- it’s a characteristic of the genre and TBH in my head, it’s the difference between yuri and LGBTQ manga. However, that’s why this aspect of the story stood out to me- it serves to show queerness plays a bigger part of Benika’s character and the world, is an important motivator in the story, and is good worldbuilding. It also is important because it adds to the grounded tone of the story- it’d be weird to have a story that is full of politics and religion otherwise but say nothing about the two main characters’ queerness.

Speaking of the politics of the story, the main non-romance plot is about how the unspecified first-world country the story takes place in (probably Japan, even though they never say?) treats refugees. There are multiple chapters about how poorly the refugees are treated, and what will happen to the country if it goes too far unaddressed (and if the country deserves what it gets).

This sequence of panels in one of the latest chapters was really good!

That’s it! The Dynasty translation is nearing the end of the comic (EDIT: It got posted right before posting this LOL that's what I get for being slow) so it’s a great time to catch up! Please read this comic and talk to me about it!!!

#personal #manga recommendation #yuri #koroshiya yametai #writing is hard but ill do it for the girls

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outofangband · 1 year ago

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(Reposting this mini post because I inevitably had more to say also I’m still sick so like, apologies if this is even more rambling than usual)

Previous post on this

“Morwen (Brodda) had seen once when he rode to her house on a foray; but a great dread of her had seized him. He thought that he had looked into the fell eyes of (an elf) and was filled with a great fear lest some evil should overtake him. And he did not ransack her house nor discover Túrin else the life of the true heir would have been short.”

Just a fun linguistics note! Fell in this instance is an archaic word, meaning, fierce, cruel or terrible, and actually is where the word felon comes from

I know I already rambled about this forever here and in a number of posts in my word ran among them tag but I just literally cannot ever stop thinking about the language used in this scene

I will never not be obsessed with this passage. It’s such a visceral description of fear and it is entirely distorted. It’s such a jarring jump to the perspective of a minor villain figure, something that we don’t usually see in Tolkien, not like this

The language!! It’s so strong!

“A great dread of her had seized him”

“Filled with a mortal fear, Lest some evil overtake him”

Morwen looks at him and he is afraid for what? His life? His soul? He thinks Morwen, or what she can do*, is evil! It’s hard to explain but the use of the word here feels similarly jarring to the use of the word horror being used about this same character in BoLT, albeit for opposite reasons

What does he fear in that moment?

And just in that line! Lest some evil overtake him! Brodda clearly believes that the evil is the other! Not himself, despite his literally working for Morgoth! It’s just a really interesting line with such a plethora of implications.

It shows very clearly what he considers evil or at least what he doesn’t. It’s not what he’s doing to Aerin, it’s not what’s happening to the other Hadorians, it’s not the murder of a nine year old that the passage says would have happened if he had entered the house.

The evil, to him, is Morwen.

Another thing I think is interesting because when humans in Tolkien are compared to the elves it’s typically an honor! It’s because they’re seen as particularly beautiful or elegant or observant/sharp, etc but here it’s like…dehumanizing? Othering? It’s beyond a negative thing, it’s a call to violence that Morwen avoids then only because Brodda *is* so afraid of her. It’s not a fear there’s any safety in though. Quite the opposite.

I went into the legacy of this scene in the notes of my post on food control in post Nírnaeth Hithlum and am almost done with a longer post about this! But it’s so disturbing. Obviously what is most horrible about Brodda is what he does to Aerin - and she is often the most immediate victim of his hatred of Morwen, the most obvious example of this being how he beats her for her aid to Morwen (what I went into the implications of in the previously mentioned post). I do not want to ever mitigate this. But there are branches of misogyny overlap and there is something disturbing about his hatred of Morwen in itself as well.

Does this make sense? Again I have another post about this so I don’t want to go too much into this but I hope this makes sense.

*which of course she cannot actually do! I do love to make fun of Brodda endlessly for this scene but as I said in my main post about it, there’s absolutely nothing funny about it for Morwen. It’s terrifying and imbued with the threat of violence; not abstract or superstition based but real, tangible violence that Morwen, especially as a survivor of the Bragollach, has likely seen firsthand

Other note: I’ve always imagined that Morwen is standing in the threshold of her house and stepped out if not to confront him than to put herself between him and Túrin. I suppose it’s possible she was already outside or something, obviously there’s no way to know. But I personally have always imagined that she steps outside when she realized someone was approaching. I think the courage there is extremely profound especially as she had no way of knowing that Brodda would flee like that.

Final notes: someday I will post my writing of this scene from Brodda’s perspective because it’s one of my favorite pieces I’ve done lately.

#the silmarillion #the children of húrin #morwen #Aerin #musing and meta #word ran among them

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galacticnova3 · 5 months ago

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I will not shut up about this actually rambling in tags isn’t enough I need to shout my fantasy giant friend spider propaganda into the void or I will explode

-Various domesticated spiders raised just for their silk. Different species can produce silk more suited for some applications, such as construction, clothing, wiring, and even surgical use. Even the largest ones are comparatively cheap to care for, being content to stay in one place and being healthiest when fed once every few days or so. The main drawback would be the time it takes for them to reach adulthood, and the risks to males when it comes to breeding.

-Spiders raised as pets! Sure, people already keep real spiders as pets, but I’m thinking something a bit more tolerant of interaction. Not necessarily social, but able to recognize the people they’re around and not stressed by handling. Maybe they’re otherwise very similar to real life spiders, maybe they’re selectively bred to have reduced fang size or limited/no venom production. Think of all the morphs, too! Given that it’s a fantasy world I feel like it wouldn’t be unfair to have them come in all sorts of colors, since real life spiders of various kinds already do. Even just taking tarantulas into account they can be the usual dark browns, blacks, and grays, but also come in sapphire blue and bright purple and purplish-pink and peach and orange… And that’s not taking into account the fact that they can have beautiful patterns and MORE COLORS!! I mean just look at the Antilles pinktoe— contrary to what the name suggests, they start out bright blue and then grow into adults with a teal cephalothorax and black legs with fuzz that ranges from blueish-purple to red! Heck, imagine being able to keep a hamster-sized peacock spider that actually doesn’t mind being held!

-Spiders raised to protect livestock or even people. Could be brightly colored as a warning to would-be threats, put down thin layers of silk around the perimeter that alert it to anything approaching before it even comes into view, threat displays offer a final chance to avoid confrontation. Could kick hairs as another deterrent which might also act as a way to mark a would-have-been offender. Just imagine the satisfaction of finally having proof the neighbor’s dog is the thing that’s been terrorizing your chickens because your spider has a bald spot on its butt, and the dog has been scratching ever since a bunch of hairs that are the exact same color as your spider mysteriously appeared on it. Sure, scuffles would involve a bit of clean-up, but better to clean up after a spider than dispose of livestock remains.

-This one I don’t have any details for but imagine with me, for a moment: jumping spider if it was like a cat. Y’know how some cats do the begging thing with their front paws? Jumping spiders basically already do that sometimes. Excited tippy taps. Failing the mirror test and trying to either scare off or hide from the uninvited stranger spider. Doing a lil dance like a pigeon trying to woo its owner. Pouncing on toys. Showing off brightly colored chelicerae or booty. Making a little silk nest and hanging out in there. Trying to threat pose at the vacuum cleaner

#rambling

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smolldust · 2 years ago

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New & Improved Pinned Post!

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heya I’m smolldust but I also go by Dusty Boxington. You can also call me Bug if you want :]. I mostly post art and rambles about my ocs or hyperfixations. The name of my Splatoon Pool is gaygent3 if you wanna join.

Feel free to message me in by inbox or in DMs if you want to chat but just know that I am EXTREMELY socially anxious so if I don’t respond right away do not take it personally you have nothing to worry about. (This is mainly for my moots)

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If you just wanna see my art check it all out in one nice and organized place @smolldustart

I also made a blog for my oc story, @thesecretsofthemarsfamily, so go check that out too!!!!

@dust-covered-reblogs is a blog I made in an attempt to make my main blog less cluttered by trying to put most of my Reblogs there. Just expect reblogged posts there.

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My ask box is open if you wanna ask me anything. Whether it’s about my ocs, or a fandom I’m in, or how I draw, or literally any random thing as long as it’s safe for work.

Also sometimes I’ll do art requests BUT the requests will almost always be for small doodles that is either for a fandom IM in or for my ocs unless stated otherwise. Also the requests will be drawn traditionally, not digitally.

✧∘────────────────────∘✧ If you want to use my art for a banner or profile pic or other things of that nature all I ask is that you don’t do anything evil with it and credit me if you can.

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youtube

here’s a link to my YouTube channel and only video lol. Don’t think I’ll ever post there but y’know ✧∘────────────────────∘✧

some fandoms and interests I have include:

Adventure Time

A Hat In Time

Amphibia

Carmen Sandiego

Celeste

Dead End: Paranormal Park

Death Note

Deltarune

ENA

Fionna and Cake

FNAF

Gooseworx

Hilda

Hollow Knight

Hooky

Lackadaisy

Little Nightmares

Little Witch Academia

Mario

Minecraft

Murder Drones

Omori

Pokemon

Ranboo

Sky Children of the Light

Sonic

Spiritfarer

Splatoon

Steven Universe

Studio Ghibli

The Amazing Digital Circus

The Disastrous Life of Saiki K

The Legend of Zelda

The Little Prince

The Owl House

Undertale

Wings of Fire

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list of my tags

smolldust - something I posted. All my stuff that isn’t Reblogs

smolldust rambles, rambling - used for text posts/me just sayin stuff

my art, smolldust art - my art is used on any art I post, smolldust art is used exclusively on my art blog

smolldust archive, smolldust’s archive, Fav, favorite, save - usually used on posts I want to be able to find later

smolldust asks, smolldust answers, asks - used for asks

smolldust polls, polls - used for polls i made

yeah, me - usually used for relatable stuff

The Secrets of the Mars Family - the tag for my oc story

videos - posts with videos

srb - self reblog

tag game, ask game - used for tag & ask games respectively

moot tag - tags for posts with my mutuals

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this is my old meet the artist. The reason it’s still here is because I was too lazy to make new refs for my other sonas lol. I refer to the sona in the meet the artist at the top of my pinned post as my creaturesona, the one with the box head is my boxsona, and the one with the shadowy face is my shadowsona (how creative of me /s). I still use these sonas so that’s why this is here lol

✧∘────────────────────∘✧ If your blog is not customized or edited from the default in any way I will think you’re a bot and I will block you.

DO NOT REPOST MY ART UNLESS YOU ASK ME DIRECTLY THROUGH EITHER DMS OR MY INBOX AND I’M OKAY WITH IT. AND NEVER USE MY ART FOR AI STUFF

homophobes, transphobes, racists, antisemitic people, creeps, proshippers, pedos, and other people like this/people looking for stuff like this please DO NOT INTERACT

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#Smolldust #My art #Youtube

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wackymaci · 1 year ago

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✨Blog rules: pwease no rebwoggy (anything, not just this post!)✨

No I can’t make all these posts unrebloggable cause otherwise how would I re-reblog myself eight thousand times. duhhhh— ANYWAY—

“ooo april wtf is this” hello trusted Friends and Confidants WELL some of you already know what I’ve been doing in my spare time but for those of you who had taken part in the Twitter exodus ahem aHEM,

THATS RIGHT IM… OHHHH MY GOD IM MAKING AN ELYSIUM WIKI???? like an actual wiki website which is just. insane honestly that I’m just Allowed To Do This for Some Reason—

I have not released the link to anyone just yet (except for fenixe obviously) and I have not said a word about this on my actual tumblr nor my actual public twitter or my growing public Instagram - I want to make an actual formal announcement If And When this IS more completed bc on top of coding one billion things I also have. oh god so much to write.

I’ve started with the Maci page bc i figured it would be a good litmus to see how committed I actually wanted to be with this and I have… uhh STILLLLL been working on the Maci page so to be honest I don’t know if I’m actually completely on board with doing this whole thing as all of the 80 interlinked articles that’s gonna be involved BUT. to be more honest I’m also already kind of obsessed and so yknow what like. it’s gonna fuckin happen

probably

EDIT, MARCH’24: or maybe not!?? who knows!!! By now this blog has ALSO turned into a haven to stack up some CANON CONVOS which I usually don’t EVER share, so at least this top secret space is being used for ssss…… something. LISTEN ITS JUST VIBES IN HERE—

anyway with twitter once again disintegrating like I said on Main Blog im gonna need Somewhere to put all my sneaky gushing about this project specifically cause I can’t talk about it anywhere else + general other sneaky gushing and so you know what yeah. priv tumblr IS the way to go.

I’ll prob crosspost some of the nonsense I’ve been rambling aboht on twt re ; this for the past two weeks in a bit but for nowwww here’s YOUR SUPER SECRET REVEAL FOR THIS BLOG and now I’m busyyyyyy………..👀

EDIT to add: all these preview snippets feature a litany of tragic backstories and so uh. trigger warnings for.,,, basically everything. proceed with caution. the entire wiki is doused in one million trigger warnings per page dw 🙃🙃 augh

RELEVANT CONTENT TAGS:

preview snippets: paragraphs snipped from wiki WIP, subject to be changed before publication but as sneak previews on here!

canon convos: real snips from the Elysiumverse SOURCE MATERIAL scripty rp’verse taken from my archives! These can ONLY be glimpsed here!

#about april #UWU!!!!!!! UWUUUUUUUU

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go-to-the-mirror · 1 year ago

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Rating: General Audiences

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: Gen

Fandom: Doctor Who (2005)

Relationship: Tenth Doctor & Donna Noble

Characters: Tenth Doctor (Doctor Who), Donna Noble

Additional Tags: Whumptober, Whumptober 2023, Post-Episode: s04e02 The Fires of Pompeii, Post-Episode: s04e03 Planet of the Ood, Post-Episode: s04e06 The Doctor's Daughter, Post-Episode: s04e10 Midnight, POV Donna Noble, Literal Sleeping Together, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, < because i didnt want to deal with The Thoughts, yes i am painfully aware of the irony, He/Him and It/Its Pronouns for Tenth Doctor (Doctor Who), The Doctor & Donna Noble Friendship, The Doctor (Doctor Who) Has C-PTSD - Complex Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder

Words: 942

Chapters: 1/1

Summary:

Donna tries to get the Doctor to sleep, to mixed success. --- The Doctor doesn’t respond, so Donna continues. “You just run all the time, spaceman.” “Keeps things interesting,” the Doctor says. “Keeps you from thinking.” There’s a pause, before the Doctor says, “Yeah.” --- Written for Whumptober 2023, day 12. Prompt used is insomnia.

“You look tired,” Donna says.

It’s right after Pompeii and they’re curled up in one of the TARDIS’s rooms, half watching a movie — she thinks it’s a Monty Python thing, but she’s never seen it before, not that she’s paying much attention. It’s just something to have in the background so they don’t have to talk — about what happened in Pompeii, about what the Doctor told her about its people.

“Just a long day,” the Doctor answers.

“Doesn’t mean you’re not tired.”

The Doctor glances over to her, face unreadable, and shrugs.

The subject is dropped, like most subjects are that day.

---

“How does the telepathy work?” asks Donna.

They’re sitting on the floor of the main room, the Doctor fixing something and Donna handing him tools.

“What do you mean?” the Doctor asks. “Hand me the, um—“ it makes a grabbing motion with his hands, and Donna hands him the pliers.

“You said you have telepathy, and the Oods are also telepathic. Do you sing like them?”

The Doctor shakes his head. “No, when I’m not touching someone, my telepathy’s usually… more low level.”

“Yeah?”

“Constant empathetic telepathy. I feel what people are feeling. Works best with other telepathic creatures.”

“And when you’re touching someone?”

“I could make you hear the Ood,”

“And that’s it?”

The Doctor leans back from what he’s working on and takes its glasses off. “No, I can do more. Time Lords have quite powerful telepathy, actually. Oods are just a bit more… versatile, I suppose.”

“Are they going to be okay?”

The Doctor turns to look at Donna, then shrugs. “If the humans don’t try anything, they should be alright.”

“And if they do?”

“Oods have no defences. No natural predators. They’re like… dodos, or penguins. On Earth.”

“The dodos are all dead.”

“But the penguins aren’t,” the Doctor counters. “We can go back sometime, see if they’re still alright.”

“I’d like that,” Donna says, holding back a yawn. “Long day. I’m going to go to bed. You coming, spaceman?”

“Going to work on this a bit more. You think about where we’re going.”

“I don’t even know what options there are.”

The Doctor grins up at her. “Fine, we’ll put her on random again. Whole universe to explore!”

“Is that why you never sleep?”

The Doctor waves her off. “I sleep plenty.”

---

“Do you want to just take a break? Get some sleep, have a day to just… process it all?”

The Doctor looks up from the guidebook of the city they’re in — Donna still hasn’t been able to understand what any of the Doctor’s rambling explanations actually mean, but she’s fairly sure they’re underneath an ocean, an ocean that may be about to flood the place — but continues walking in front of her. Martian and its long legs.

“This is a break,” he answers.

“Yeah, so why are we speed-walking to the city council building?”

“Bit too urgent to take a stroll.”

“So, not a break, then.”

The Doctor stops, turns around, takes off his glasses. “There’s a whole universe to see, there’s a whole universe to save, people who need our help.”

“And you have a time machine.”

The Doctor doesn’t respond, so Donna continues. “You just run all the time, spaceman.”

“Keeps things interesting,” the Doctor says.

“Keeps you from thinking.”

There’s a pause, before the Doctor says, “Yeah.”

---

“You look exhausted.”

“I am,” the Doctor answers, and Donna knows it’s bad when he doesn’t try to deny it.

“I should have been there,” Donna says and the Doctor shrugs.

“I don’t think it would’ve changed anything.”

“I would’ve stopped them.”

The Doctor shrugs again, then is quiet, before Donna stands up.

“Come on, let’s go.”

She walks with the Doctor to the TARDIS. It’s quiet, unbearably quiet. Things just aren’t quiet with the Doctor, things aren’t still, and yet the alien next to her is both.

“Go to sleep,” she says. “You’ll feel better in the morning.”

It looks at her, and she hates it when his face is blank like that, because she knows him well enough now to know what it means.

“I don’t want to just lie there,” it says, and that’s wrong too, because it’s not part of their little song and dance. Donna says he needs to sleep, the Doctor says it doesn’t want to sleep because there’s a whole universe out there, Donna infers it’s because he doesn’t want to be without a distraction. It’s not supposed to say it himself. It’s not supposed to look so bloody defeated.

“Would it help if I was there?”

The Doctor pauses, then nods.

---

“Glad I finally got you to actually sleep,” Donna says.

It’s been… well, time is difficult, but it’s been a little while since Donna first suggested they sleep in the same bed. They’re like kids at a sleepover, one’s feet by the other’s head, chattering away until they both fall asleep. It’s actually working, as far as Donna can tell. At least he’s a bit more willing to actually go to sleep when it doesn’t entail lying in a dark room for however long it actually takes to nod off.

“Glad I finally got you to stop bringing it up all the time,” the Doctor responds.

It gets nightmares sometimes, Donna thinks, but she’s a heavy sleeper, always has been, and mostly only notices when she wakes up and it’s not there.

“Yeah, well, now you don’t look like you could get knocked over by a strong breeze.”

The Doctor scoffs. “I can take worse than a strong breeze,”

“I said looks, didn’t I?”

The Doctor climbs under the covers. “Goodnight, Donna.”

“Night, spaceman.”

#whumptober2023 #no.12 #insomnia #doctor who #fic #tenth doctor #tenth doctor fanfiction #donna noble #donna noble fanfiction #doctordonna #doctordonna fanfiction #my lonely writing

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latibvles · 2 years ago

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Sort of a public PSA? — on commenting.

This is a thought after, once again, having a conversation and while yes, commenting is important, I feel like there’s also something else we should be saying:

If you can’t compliment a writer without bringing down another, don’t say anything.

And I’m talking about this in specific because this is what I see most often. I’m not going to screenshot this because it’s on other people’s works and I am very lucky to not have received comments like that on AO3 (which is currently the only place that I have published work), but I’ll do an imitation of what this looks like:

“Wow, this is a great story. All those OTHER stories just make the main character SO PERFECT and it’s just sooo unrealistic.”

This isn’t the compliment you think this is.

It’s very backhanded and the comment really could’ve stopped at the first sentence. Or, even better, comment about what you liked about the story you just read and not what you disliked about other people’s stories.

And maybe this is just a me thing, but writers are also readers and readers read comments, too. And reading negative generalizations made about what could be your particular ficwriting niche isn’t the greatest feeling.

Throwing in a read more because this got long.

“But Poet!” I hear you say, “I REALLY don’t like [insert thing here] and this is the FIRST time I’ve seen it very well-written!!”

Okay well for starters, I highly doubt that there’s only one (1) author who writes that thing well. Also, you can SAY that you enjoyed it without putting down other people in that particular genre. It’s not about what you do and don’t like, it’s about uplifting writers verses putting them down. “I usually don’t read ______, but I really enjoyed this!” Is such a kinder way to say it — and it doesn’t include insulting others in a fandom space.

Ultimately, the comment section exists so you can compliment and otherwise give feedback to the writer. It really, really isn’t a place to vent about your experiences with “bad” fanfiction. I haven’t gotten these comments on AO3, but I’ve definitely got them on Wattpad and Instagram. Most of the time it was never because of genuine love for my writing — it was just because they wanted to bring down others who were writing similar work.

We talk about commenting and supporting writers a lot but what should that look like? I can’t speak for everyone but this is what it looks like for me.

Keyboard smashing, screaming, all variants of “HOW DARE YOU!!” are well accepted and definitely make me smile. If you’re worried that something comes across wrong I’ve memorized tone tags — feel free to use them! I use them with all my friends and in comments when I want to ensure my intent comes across correctly.

Essay-long comments (and subsequently 20+ tags of rambling) are also accepted. Seriously. They spark joy. It’s very kind. Thank you for quoting the details and throwing them back at my face.

Criticism is okay when it’s asked for. I’ve got like … a definitive group people I’m comfortable with reading my work and giving feedback on it when I’m unsure of my own writing. I’m doing this for fun. I don’t need a bunch of compliment-criticism sandwiches, yanno?

If you’re going to tear down someone else’s work — keep it to yourself. You don’t usually read OFC fics but you really like mine? Cool! Tell me that! But don’t insult all the other lovely OFCs in the process. You usually don’t read childhood friends-to-lovers? I’m so happy that I’ve been able to reel you in. But keep the comparisons to yourself.

I honestly see it more than I see people just going “this sucked” on a piece of writing which also isn’t great, but the former is way more common.

“But Poet!” You say again, “I’m entitled to my opinion aren’t I? I’m allowed to dislike things!!”

Yes, you are! And you can have and share those opinions! Just maybe not on a work that isn’t even yours. A ficwriter does not know you hated all the other work out there to understand that you enjoyed theirs. I am someone with very strong Writing Opinions. And I am either sharing them HERE, on my blog, where it can’t really hurt anybody since it’s not like I’m targeting somebody — or I’m getting on a soapbox to my friends for an hour about it in a group chat. Which I think we should do more often.

Remember “if you have nothing nice to say, don’t say it at all”? Lets bring that back. Stop with the backhanded compliments fellas. It isn’t cute.

#tagging this as uhh #fandom etiquette #and also #writing etiquette #because this has been bothering me all day #this is a psa #imagine I started a ‘poet’s PSAs’ tag to commit to the bit? 💀#I think I can also add to this in a BoB sense #I’m very picky about Ron’s character. but you won’t catch me PUBLICLY COMMENTING “all these other writers get him SO WRONG but you GET IT”#no I just say the characterization was down Pat and leave it at that

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farfromstrange · 1 year ago

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Foreigner's God: Chapter 53

Main Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x OFC

Chapter Summary: A familiar face knocks on Matt's door, demanding the truth about the past couple of days, but telling the truth would mean endangering him, and neither Matt nor she wants that to happen. She feels bad for lying to Happy, but there is no other way, not when she wants to protect him, so she puts on a mask and pretends she's okay when in reality, she is anything but, and Matt makes sure to take care of her with unconditional devotion.

Warnings: Angst, mention of injury and blood, hurt/comfort

Word Count: 5k

A/n: Fun fact: I wrote this chapter and the previous one as one chapter. Then I separated them because I struggled with the second part which is now this chapter. I completely forgot to post it here, which is why it has already been up on AO3 for a bit, but anyway. This is still pretty mental health heavy and so is the next chapter, so be careful and take care of yourselves!

Tag List: @acharliecoxedfan @gpenguin666 @lina-mar (& if you want to be added too, fill out this form!)

Read Chapter 53: I Will Be Your Remedy here on AO3!

Sometime around halfway into cleaning the kitchen, Matt perked up. Her breathing and heartbeat were calm, sounding their usual rhythm as she slept. He directed his attention toward the front door of the apartment complex. A familiar set of footsteps echoed through the hallway, followed by the stairwell.

He took a few steps forward, waiting for the person to finalize their decision. A few seconds later, there was a knock on the door. He reached for his glasses on the dining table and quickly made his way to the front door. Another knock sounded out, this time louder than before. Eliza was still fast asleep in the bedroom, but he worried that if he didn’t open the door soon enough, it would be kicked in and then her sleep would be disturbed all over again. She needed the rest. Unexpected visitors were the last thing he wanted her to concern herself with, so perhaps he could find a way to send him away before he could even think about entering.

Matt opened the door only enough for him to stand in the gap, listening to the rapid heartbeat of the man across from him. He could smell hints of sweat on his skin, his eyes were sunken and he’d probably had one or two coffees too many on his way. He braced himself on the door frame and waited for him to speak; if he told him that he knew very well who was standing in front of him, his cover would be blown, and that was a conversation he wasn’t ready for just yet.

“Hey,” Happy said, his chest heaving with the lack of oxygen from his sprint up the stairs.

“Oh. Happy?” Matt asked. “What’re you doing here?”

“I know you’re trying to play dumb, but we both know why I’m here.”

He took a deep breath. “Happy…”

“She hasn’t answered any of my calls. Eliza, she… she hasn’t even read my texts. I mean, I only saw the news long after the trial ended, but man, I tried reaching her as soon as I found out and she still hasn’t shown me a sign of life. I just need to know if she’s okay, Matt. Please.”

He raised his hand wordlessly, trying to calm his rambling down to a minimum.

Happy’s eyes softened. “Is she here?” he asked.

Matt was hesitant to answer. His expression seemed sheerly unreadable, and with each silent second passed between them, Happy grew more and more agitated, and his worry exceeded new limits. The desperation in his voice grew into a clear sound that could have been counted as begging. He was pleading with Matt for the answers he couldn’t find before, and the more he stared at his blank face, the more he began to suspect the worst. He was wired that way.

“Please,” his voice sounded barely above a whisper. “I don’t ask for much, I just need to know what happened, and I need to see for myself that she’s alive and well. This is killing me here. You remember the last time she went MIA? Yeah, she almost died then and I thought I’d lost her, so I really need to know history isn’t repeating itself right now.”

He tried giving her space. It wasn’t the first time Eliza had disappeared off of the face of the earth without a word, and it wouldn’t be the last, but the context in which she disappeared was enough to shoot his anxiety levels through the roof.

The news didn’t offer much information on the shooting, and he doubted the police even knew what was going on. He saw her on the video, replayed it a million times with Tony by his side. He remembered going pale in the face and excusing himself to call her, but Eliza didn’t pick up. He lost count of how many times he tried to reach her or coax a reaction out of her that would show him she was okay. She didn’t even read the countless text messages, and that was the most unlike her.

His thoughts were all over the place, most of them incapable of being sorted, and the categories his mind found for certain horror scenarios were sickening. Happy felt nauseous, even more so while looking into his own reflection in the red glass that covered Matt’s unfocused eyes. His lip twitched, but he didn’t smile, he didn’t cry, he looked like a mere robot waiting for confirmation to act. He hated the anticipation, it drove his blood pressure to a point that would earn him a glare or two from Tony once he checked the stats of his new watch, but there was not much calmness to be found in his heart when it came to the troublemaker that Eliza was. And some of the trouble she got into wasn’t even her fault, her life just happened to work that way, and somehow that drilled the knife even deeper into the already weeping wound.

Much to his surprise, Matt took a step back. He lowered his head, let out a weary sigh, and waved softly. “Come in,” he said.

“Wait, really?”

“Yeah. I was just about to make some coffee.”

Happy scattered his thoughts as quickly as they had fallen and followed after him into the apartment. He looked around, catching sight of some of Eliza’s clothing carelessly thrown over the back of the couch. He could smell her perfume and the remains of her favorite sandwich in the air. Her coat hung on the rack next to the door and her bag had found home over one of the chairs at the dining table. It looked nothing like the compound had looked back when she was still living there. The sight of Matt’s apartment was the perfect picture of domesticity, and he seemed to navigate well around the ordinary mess that came with the relationship. Pieces of him mixed with pieces of her and it formed a sanctuary they were both more than happy to be living with him.

Matt was her safe place, he realized. She loved living with him. She was comfortable and felt at home, and she had quickly made his four walls into her own too. Even at the compound, Eliza kept a packed bag under her bed, ready to leave and run if the need arose. With Matt, it seemed entirely different; she had finally found a home, and it seemed as if she was nowhere close to running.

Happy’s chest filled with pride yet a sense of sadness when he thought about what could have been, and how her life still managed to put stones in her way even after she had decided that staying was worth the fight.

“Where is she?” he asked.

Matt shushed the loud tone of his voice and pointed toward the milky glass of the bedroom door. “She’s resting,” he said. “She’s had a rough couple of days, that’s also why she hasn’t answered your texts. I think. She hasn’t been on her phone much. But she’s okay, Happy, I can assure you that. She’s always safe with me.”

“She’s okay?”

“Yeah, she is.” He mustered a small smile.

Happy lowered himself down on one of the empty chairs. “Oh, thank God!”

He didn’t mention her stay at the hospital, the countless breakdowns, or the events of the previous night. It wasn’t Matt’s story to tell, it was hers, and he knew Eliza wanted nothing more than to keep her family safe. If he had told Happy the truth, what little safety the unknown offered him would have been gone. He couldn’t make such a decision on his own, and it wasn’t fair to her, either.

He stayed quiet, instead brewing the coffee he had intended to make. He focused on her presence in the other room, noting how her chest continued to rise and fall calmly. How long she would be able to sleep, he wasn’t sure, but for now, she was still safe and sound in her resting state.

Matt poured the coffee into two mugs, a bit more relaxed now. “Milk or sugar?” he questioned.

“Both,” said Happy.

He nodded and added the last few finishing touches to their drinks before carrying them over to the table.

“Thank you.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“I have to ask,” Happy couldn’t help himself but disrupt the growing silence before it could even settle in, “You were there. What happened?”

Matt sighed. “It’s a long story.”

“I have time.”

There was a fine line between saying too little and saying too much, and he wasn’t sure how long he could walk that line in the green zone before slipping.

"The preliminary hearing... it was intense," Matt began, his words coming out in slow puffs of air, carefully choosing his every word. "With that I mean, emotionally draining for all of us. But Eliza, especially. The judge ruled in our favor, so we thought things would work out... When we left the courthouse, we thought we could move on, you know?"

Happy nodded, his eyes glued to his lips as he hung on every word.

"Well, needless to say, that also didn't work out. Viktor was talking to the cops and his lawyer was there and it was just... it was messy. And you know how she is; when Eliza wants something, you can't pull that woman back, no matter how hard you try. And I tried, but she still went to confront him."

His brows furrowed. "Confronted him?" he asked. “While he was talking to the press that already hates her? Is she crazy? You know what, that was a stupid question. Ignore that. Of course, she’s crazy. She’s never been short of that.”

Matt shrugged, his head nodding slightly. It was true; Eliza had a strong tendency to go crazy and get what she wanted whenever she wanted just by defying the odds and all possible rules. But that was exactly why he loved her so much.

“Yeah,” he said. “Can’t argue with that. But she... she wanted answers, she wanted closure. I don’t blame her, I really don’t. You weren’t in that courtroom, so you wouldn’t know, but she went through hell and back in such a short amount of time. Seeing him get a platform to speak made him snap and I did consider letting her do what she wanted to do, believe me.”

“Well,” Happy found himself agreeing, “I’m not saying he deserved it, but…”

“He did deserve it. That bastard… he hurt her and he deserved a lot more than just being killed. He deserved the cruelest punishment known to men and I just hope that wherever he is, he gets fucking punished.” His eyes were absolutely wild behind his glasses.

Happy matched the tone of his voice when he agreed once again. He wasn’t a religious man, but in this case, he hoped hell would make the man who did this to her suffer. Death was too kind for him, but there was also pain in death and he prayed to a God he didn’t believe him that he would meet his fate with the same pain he had caused Eliza and still continued causing her even beyond the grave.

Matt took a deep breath. “But I did try to stop her because I knew she wouldn’t be able to live with herself if she seriously hurt another person again,” he said, “but before I knew it, chaos erupted and then everything went to shit.” He took another sip from his coffee, angry, almost, wishing it were a bottle of beer or something stronger. “Shots were fired, people were screaming, it was so loud, and Eliza was right behind him when it happened. I mean, right there. From what I heard, she had blood all over her. I shielded her, of course, but other than the three shots that killed Viktor, there weren't any more fired that day."

Dread filled Happy's eyes. "Is she... is she okay?"

"Physically, yes. But it was a shock for her, and she's been struggling to process everything. It's been... yeah, it's been a journey." Matt pinched his nose, fighting off the fatigue that started to settle in. "And she hasn't had it easy these past two days, so..."

“That’s why she hasn’t answered?”

He nodded.

“Jesus Christ.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, “but you have to believe me when I say that I’ve done everything so far to protect her and I’m going to make sure she comes out of this alright. She just… Eliza needs time, Happy. Plain and simple. And you need to give those trying to find whoever did this time too. It was hard for me to accept at first too, but there’s no other way. She wasn’t the initial target, and she’s still alive. We have to hold onto that, you know?”

“Of course, I know that,” Happy said. His eyes stared emptily at the mug in front of him. “But-”

The sound of the bedroom door sliding open cut through their conversation.

Matt had been so focused on picking the right version of the story that he lost focus on Eliza’s sleeping form. He missed the sound of the bed creaking and her heartbeat changing speed. As soon as the door started to open, he rose to his feet, his head tilted in her direction.

“Sweetheart,” he said softly.

She rubbed her eyes and looked at him, then Happy sitting at the dining table.

“You okay? You shouldn’t be up. You should be in bed. I told you if you needed something, all you had to do was call for me.”

Meeting his worried eyes, she raised her hand and waved him off. “I’m fine,” she said. “Happy-” she turned to him. “I’m so sorry.” The nervous quiver in her voice moved to her hands as she fidgeted with them. They were hidden far in the sleeves of one of Matt’s sweaters. It was too hot outside to even be wearing wool, but she was expertly trying to hide the bandages on her knuckles, and her nervous ticks played along. It made it easier for her to keep up the facade.

He stared at her, his eyes wide. The relief finally settled in fully, filling his heart to the brim.

“I’m sorry I didn’t answer your calls or your texts. I didn’t pay attention to my phone and I just saw the messages you all left me in the past two days and I’m… I’m so sorry. I never meant to worry any of you.”

Happy rose from his chair and approached her. The circles under his eyes looked dark and evident as the sun hit them just right. He opened his arms, pulling her into a bone-crushing hug that she didn’t anticipate.

He cursed under his breath. “Don’t ever do this to me again,” he told her, “you scared the living crap out of me. Oh, Jesus Christ.”

He held her even closer, not wanting to let her go. He was scared that if he did, she would slip away or that he would lose her, and it was a fear that gradually paralyzed him and tuned out the initial relief he’d felt.

From the moment she woke up from her nap and heard his voice in the living room, her body was on high alert. She realized she had abandoned that part of her life while she was so focused on herself. Tony left countless voicemails on her phone that still lay on the bedside table untouched, Happy did too. She skimmed over the messages and they were all pretty convinced she was dead.

The exhaustion was nothing like she had felt before. Her body ached, her muscles straining with every move, and she had battled with herself about whether or not to get out of bed and face him. She didn’t mean to, but she hurt him. She hurt him, Tony and Pepper, and everyone else who was so worried about her. She pushed away everyone and almost did the same to Matt, but he was persistent. He kept her alive, and she forgot about the world around them because right there, in the cozy apartment they shared, nothing existed but the two of them. She forgot what living felt like. Her existence didn’t feel all too real, so hearing Happy’s voice next door had been like a harsh slap to the face.

She tried not to cry when he finally hugged her. “I’m okay,” she whispered, her voice muffled even more through his chest.

“You need to be a lot more responsible with your phone.”

“I know.”

“You can’t keep doing that.”

“I know.”

“You almost gave me a heart attack.”

“I didn’t mean to,” she cut him off. “I was just so caught up, I didn’t think. My mind’s been all over the place lately. I had to take a break from life to sort this shit out and I’m sorry for not telling you guys I’m okay, but I’m here now and as you can tell, I’m fine, Happy. I’m okay.”

He took a step back to look at her. “You look exhausted,” he said.

“I’m just tired, that’s all. Matt has been taking good care of me.”

“Good,” he glanced at the man next to them, “He better.”

“He has. He always does.”

“I appreciate that you have someone looking out for you, but please, the next time something like this happens, make sure you don’t disappear without a trace for two days. We’ve been worried sick. Tony, too, by the way.”

“That’s… unusual.”

“It just means that we care about you,” Happy corrected her.

“I know and I’m sorry,” she said.

“I know you are, pumpkin. Just-” He hugged her again. “Don’t give me another heart attack. My blood pressure is already high and Tony is gonna kill me when he sees that my stats have changed for the worse.”

“I promise, I won’t.”

Happy's grip on her tightened briefly before he released her, giving her a gentle pat on the cheek. "We care about you, Liz, and we want to make sure you're safe. That's what family does, you know? We have each other's backs."

"Yeah, we do. Thank you."

Matt chose to step away and silently busied himself with the leftover dishes in the kitchen, still listening intently to their conversation. Eliza's heartbeat carried proof of how she truly felt, though, on the outside, she tried to shine brighter than the sun. She smiled at him, albeit a fake smile but Happy seemed to buy it. She made her voice sound more cheery than hoarse, and her body language spoke as openly as she could make it look even though open was the last word Matt would have used to describe her. He was worried, but he understood. He was the master of keeping secrets and sometimes you have to protect the people you love, which was exactly what she did. She protected Happy by not telling him the truth, and by not showing him how entirely hopeless and empty she felt inside, how much she was truly struggling, she eased his conscience. He was far too innocent to be dragged into their mess.

“You know, if you need anything,” Happy began then, “Tony and I are more than willing to help.”

“I’m fine,” she reassured him. “I have a roof over my head, a nice boyfriend and I have a job. What more could I possibly need?”

Mental stability would be a start. But that is something you can’t acquire on the market.

“You’re right, I’m just worried about you. So if there’s anything you need, I want you to call me, okay?”

“I think I can manage that.”

“Thank you.”

As she led him to the door, she promised to call Tony back and explain, and she promised she would come around the compound soon. After talking to him at her father’s grave, they didn’t speak much other than the occasional conversation during the preparations for the preliminary hearing. He failed to do damage control when it came to the press, so he retreated. Tony Stark hated failure. He wasn’t used to it.

Their foundation used to be strong, but it began to swindle one day and things weren’t the same as they once were. The circumstances changed. Her life changed. Tony changed. He wasn’t like a father to her anymore, just a man she occasionally spoke to because he hurt her in ways he couldn’t make up for. She forgave him, but the scars ran deep. She pushed all thoughts about him away and decided to move on, but he was still part of her life and whether she liked it or not, they were family. If her time as an Avenger taught her anything it was to appreciate what she had because it could be gone sooner rather than later.

She had been so caught up in everything, she neglected what she had left of her family. She had Matt, Foggy, and Karen and they were her new family now, but the bond with the people she had once lived with was still there. She wanted to nurture it while at the same time, she was struggling to get over the events of the past and their role in it. She screwed up, her friends screwed up, and she had truly thought she would end up alone. Thankfully, she didn’t, but it had been incredibly close.

Her head dropped to the door as it closed behind Happy. She took a deep breath. Anger boiled up in her veins. It glowed red hot and reminded her of a red towel held in front of the eyes of a bull.

Eliza grabbed the nearest object she could find, which just happened to be Matt’s keys, and threw them against the wall with a loud, pained groan. Her hands were no longer covered by her sleeves, revealing the bandages underneath; they were close to getting soaked again, and Matt could smell the disinfectant mixing with her blood as it hit the sterile fabric around the wounds.

He listened to her erratic heartbeat, but he knew better than to jump in. She had to channel her emotions, and as long as she didn’t channel them into hurting herself, he didn’t mind if she tossed his keys or the entire drawer across the room.

Only when she raised her hand to land her fist on the wall did he reach out and pull her away. “That’s enough,” he said. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her back into him. “You’re okay. You did so good, I’m proud of you.”

Her grunt turned into a weak whimper. “I hate lying to him,” she said. She was tired of the tears, but she wasn’t strong enough to fight them.

“I know, I’m sorry.”

“I just wish everything wasn’t so shitty…”

He shushed her as he rubbed her back, cradling her head with the other hand. She nuzzled into his chest. As he held her close, his hand wandered to her forehead. With her heartbeat still erratic and the sudden heat that seemed to erupt from her body, he couldn’t resist. He used his palm first, then used the back of his hand to confirm what he had already suspected.

“You’re burning up,” he said.

“I’m fine,” Eliza insisted.

“Well, you have a fever, so I think you’re not fine.”

“What are you, a thermometer?”

“Technically, yes.”

“I can handle it. I’ve had worse.”

“I know that. I just think your knuckles might have gotten infected.”

She huffed. “It’ll go away.”

“Just admit you’re not feeling well,” Matt grabbed her face, “I just want to help you. Let me take care of you,” he said.

Her muscles ached with the fatigue of the fever, and her skin was sticky with sweat. She hadn’t before realized how bad it got.

Weakly, Eliza mustered a nod. He was grateful that he didn’t have to push her. He guided her to the couch, her limbs heavy as she walked. She sat down, waiting for him to join her, but he disappeared. The dishes in the kitchen clanged. She heard the tap run, the sound turning dull as it hit something soft. She even counted the seconds until he came back, her body locked up from the heat that burned her alive and the anxiety that she would be forever alone even though she wasn’t, and she hated feeling like her life wasn’t hers to control but belonged to the monsters in her head.

Matt returned with a cold, wet towel and another cup of tea for her. She took it gladly, even took a sip of water as he draped the towel over her forehead. There wasn’t much else he could do.

“Matt?” she asked weakly into the silence that had settled between them.

He lifted his head with a soft smile. “Yes?”

“Can you… hold me?”

He nodded and sat down on the couch, his back turned to the armrest. She climbed into his lap, her back pressed flush against his chest. He held her close, his grip carrying enough strength to keep her from falling and making sure the badly glued pieces of her heart wouldn’t crack again.

She leaned her head back against his shoulder and allowed herself to close her eyes. As the heat in her body rose, the exhaustion burned into her nerves. She clung to Matt, her one and only, her lifeline. He took that as a hint and tightened his hold around her, his arms wrapping around her frame completely. She was hot against him, but she needed him and he didn’t mind a little heat. He just wanted her to be okay, which she wasn’t, and that was something he desperately wanted to change. Being helpless was the worst feeling and he loathed it, especially when it came to the people he loved, and he had never loved someone as dearly as he loved the woman in his arms.

She relaxed as much as that was possible in her state, her lips parting slightly to let out a contented sigh. “Thank you,” she murmured, and he wasn’t sure if the slurring of her voice was due to tiredness or her being delirious.

He whispered back into her ear, “Anything for you.”

But no matter how hard she tried, Eliza couldn’t find a way to restful sleep. She stayed awake in his arms, her mind consumed by thoughts. They were nowhere near close to finding the man who seemed to be putting Matt’s work to shame. He terrified the underworld of the city. He killed Viktor. And his alias suggested that killing criminals to enforce his twisted views of justice was simply his thing, and that turned into an even more terrifying realization because, in the end, Eliza was a criminal too. Perhaps that was why he visited her in the hospital, in the hopes she wouldn’t see him, and then left when she woke up. Perhaps the Punisher came to the hospital to silently tell her to count her days, that she was on his list of targets next, and that he would do anything in his power to make her join Viktor in hell, which Viktor had told her would happen soon enough.

She didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of dying like him and then being forced to live with the thought that she failed to serve justice for all the other girls he hurt and whose deaths he was responsible for.

Matt noticed she wasn’t asleep. He tried running his finger through her hair, but she still hadn’t found rest, so he chose to ask, “What’s on your mind?”

“Everything,” she admitted.

In the solace of the dawning night, she was trapped in a spiral of what could have been, would have been, or should have been. She was trapped in the fears of the past and those of the future, and whenever she closed her eyes, she saw the faces of her victims and the faces of the men who ruined her life. She saw the childhood she had missed pass before her eyes. She was turned into a weapon and she never had a choice. And even now her past came back to haunt her every time she was happy, leaving her with no choice but to succumb to their painful claws of death.

“What’s everything?” asked Matt.

Eliza shrugged. “Just everything.”

“That’s quite a lot to think about.”

“Yeah.”

He paused. “What can I do to help you rest?”

“Unless you can shut my brain off, there is not much you can do.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault. Just hold me a little longer.”

“I’ll always hold you.”

“I know, and that’s why I love you.”

Matt smiled, pulling her even closer, almost impossibly so, and pressed his lip to where he could reach her temple. She reached out to hold his cheek, her eyes closing again. She stroked over his stubble and the slight flush on his cheeks from feeling her touch so gently on his sensitive skin.

“I love you too,” he said then.

She mustered a smile just for him and craned her neck so she could kiss his lips, her hand never wavering when it came to stroke his cheek.

“We’ll find a way to get through this, sweetheart, I promise you.”

“You really promise?” she asked, her eyes glossing over with unshed tears. They glistened in the soft yellow light of the ceiling lamp that mixed with the colors of the ads that played on the billboard as clear as day.

He nodded, using what little space he had left to return the gesture and stroke her cheekbone with his thumb. The calloused tip felt good against her heated skin and she sighed again.

“I promise,” he said.

She had to hold on to that promise. He promised they would find a way and she chose to believe it because if she didn’t, the fear would eat her alive.

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