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nevadas-night-time-novelist · 8 months ago

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Auditor, Phobos, 2BDamned and Sanford with a reader that overworks themselves. Prioritizing work over mental and physical health, pushing themselves to their breaking point, skipping meals and only getting a few hours of sleep. I just need these four in particular to tell me to take care of myself and care about me argggh

Overworked reader

Audi, Phobos, Doc, Sanford

CW: bit of a mental spiral on San's end, ends well tho.

Burnouts a bitch man, don't wear yourself thin over shit, y'hear?

Auditor

"Are the chef's meals not to your liking?" You nearly jumped out of your seat when Auditor's ghostly whisper filled your ear. Casting your aching, tired eyes from your paperwork at the once hot meal, still arranged with care on the plate, completely untouched from the moment it left the kitchen.

"Oh, no. Of course not. They're good, don't worry." You offered him a weak smile. "I'll have it later, I just need to finish this up." Audi's eyes narrowed as you gestured meekly to your desk, piled high with reports, cloning records, casualty tallies, and other such boring admin work.

"It's cold." He grumbled, spinning your chair to face him, hands on his hips. "You're going to really hurt yourself and burn out if you keep pulling these awkward hours. Don't think I haven't noticed you slipping from our bed to come back to this. Did you forget how light a sleeper I am?"

Audi's stern demeanour dropped as your features fell, already feeling low because of how your body was struggling, now having your boss/lover add to that. "I just need to be able to keep up with you. What use am I really if I can't handle a fraction of the work you do?"

His hand rested under your chin, thumb delicately stroking your cheek. "You could never keep up with me, my flame, I was made to handle this. You're just a delicate mortal, you do more than enough without stressing yourself trying to level with me. Allow me to finish this later, mea vita, you are going to get a hot, fresh meal while I draw a bath for us, and after you will get the rest your body needs. That's an order, from your employer, understood?"

"Yes, but-"

He cut you off. "No 'ifs, ands, or buts,' You are going to hurt yourself, and I refuse to allow anyone to hurt you, even self inflicted pain. I, as your partner and boss, will clear this burden for you. When I asked for your best, I meant the best you can consistently handle, not this. You're not yourself, and I command you seek out that old self that I fell for and bring them back to me instantly."

Phobos

Being the director's lover had essentially no downsides, nobody spoke a bad word around you, people helped you far more than before, not to mention the adoration of the most powerful figure in the physical realm. However, that same man would often breathe down your neck, commanding you to stay by his side constantly.

Phobos relished in you, watching you, listening to you, being around you. He wished to be adored equally in return, however your work proved to be a distraction from him. He was... a tad obsessive, but how could he not be? He's a god, it was only right you'd devote yourself to him and him alone.

"Leave that alone will you? Your god requires your attention." A large clawed hand rested on your shoulder, the other pulling down his bandages from his mouth. "Your recent neglect of me is not going unnoticed, dear."

You rubbed your aching eyes, staring at a computer screen all day and most of the night irritated them. "I'm sorry Bo, but there's a lot of work that needs reviewing, I've got weeks of backlog to go through, and Christoff, Crackpot and Gonne have all submitted new reports today with pages and pages of intel to go through."

His hands wrapped around your middle, he lifted you up and took your place on the chair, resting you in his far more comfortable lap. "Bah, they're not worthy of your time. I'll command someone else to do it, the short fat one, whatever his name is. He enjoys paperwork and the like."

"Hofnarr is no doubt as swamped as I am." He took your face in one of his hands, his cracked and damaged lips pressing against your cheek.

"Someone else then, if it pleases you. Whatever it takes for you to spend time with me." You leaned into him, your back pressing against his chest, and he emitted a deep purr. "I am a god amongst men, dear, I don't beg for what I desire. I take it. And yet I allow you this honour. So please..."

Your stomach rumbled against his hand. "Harumph! Neglecting yourself as much as you've neglected me?! How dare you, enough is enough. I command you take care of yourself!" Phobos picked you up with ease, holding you level to his eye. To anyone else, he'd be holding them by their collar, or neck to meet his gaze, but with you, he was softer. A hand under your rump and the other on your back, supporting your weight comfortably.

"You are the lover of a god, think how pitiful it would look if I can't even take care of my equal? You stand above others, the right hand of my throne. Your duties have changed, lesser beings will take charge of them. Your only priorities are yourself and me, and the family we will create." Phobos snapped his fingers, and one of the guards at the door came forward.

"See to it that the chefs prepare your God's favourites, find someone to take their duties on and allow them to be truly indulged as they should be." Phobos looked back to you, his eye narrowing. "I will tear this world asunder for you, and build it up as you desire. I will give you anything your heart pines for, never again shall you be run ragged like this."

Phobos was self assured, a god of the highest order, surrounded by weaker, lesser beings. And yet here he was, begging at your altar. He wished you'd devote yourself equally to worshipping you as he did, and he would make damn sure that happened.

2BDamned

3 AM. Doc was in the kitchen, boiling some water over the stove. Hank has smashed the coffee maker earlier in the day, said he'd accidentally dropped the thing, yet couldn't explain the crowbar in his hands. Doc gritted his teeth, damn Wimbleton, making his hard job harder with their stupid thoughtless actions.

He had no doubt the fool had burned themselves on the machine and gone overboard against the poor helpless thing in revenge. Now here he stood, using the stove to make both his coffee and his snack. Instant noodles, his saving grace in the world. Easy to prepare, quick to eat, and filling.

With bleary, tired eyes, you wandered into the dim kitchen, hearing Doc grumbling to himself about 'Getting that moron to find another working machine or he'll have his spine inserted upside down next time.'

"Hey sweetheart." Yawning and setting your tablet down, you wrapped your arms around his midriff and leaned your face into his back. One hand pulled way from the stove, running down your arm before resting atop your hand, feeling the ring around your finger.

"You should be asleep, love." Doc murmured, his animosity towards Hank gone in the wind. You inhaled deeply, basking in his familiar scent.

"I could say the same to you, Kyle." He let out a soft 'Hm.', agreeing without agreeing. You were right, of course. "Debugging with Dei was going well, till he nodded off. San came by on one of his usual bathroom breaks and picked him up."

Doc poured the water into his noodle cup. "You want some coffee?" He took your favourite mug out of the cupboard.

"I thought you wanted me to sleep." You teased tiredly.

"You're my spouse. I know you well enough to know that's not gonna happen anytime soon, even if I would like it if you did." He tossed some powdered milk into the cups along with the beans. "We don't have any sugar left I'm afraid, or sweetener. It's become so scarce these days. Ration packages can't even supply a tiny packet anymore."

"I can get sugar anytime I've got you around." Doc smiled and turned off the hob, turning around to pull you into his arms. "Can I get some now?"

As far as you two were concerned, nothing else existed, everything except what was in both your arms was null and void. He tilted his head down slightly, lips catching yours softly. Butterflies fluttered in your tummy, they flared up every time your husband kissed you.

You rested your head on his chest, it was rare you two had a truly private moment together, as much as you both tried. Being enemies of the state was hard work, who'd have thought?

"You should really lay down dear." Your eyes fluttered open, and you looked up to him. You hadn't even realised you'd started dozing off in his arms.

"No, I've got work to do." You yawned, and Doc chuckled softly.

"You're really stubborn sometimes, you know that?" He picked up both coffees and his noodles. "Tell you what, grab your tablet and we can get cosy in bed together. Work can wait until later, I think we've overdue some private couple time."

Nestled in the crook of Doc's arm felt like the safest place in the world, even with coffee in your system, you couldn't help but fall asleep with him. Trust and love deep rooted, he was your sanctuary.

And damn it, he was going to get you into a healthier sleep routine.

Sanford

It'd been a couple weeks since you'd seen Ford, Doc had sent him off on recon work with Deimos and a splinter group from a faction allied with the SQ, they'd been on the other side of Nevada having heard whispering of something dangerous settling out there.

Two weeks of silence left you anxious, pacing around often, skipping meals and staying up into the early hours of the morning. Longing makes the heart sick, and a sick heart makes the body weak.

The only think you could do to keep your mind occupied was cleaning out the gun stash, checking over the stocked rounds repeatedly, despite the numbers never changing, cleaning already dirt and grime free steel.

A scrubbing brush in hand, you scraped at one of the many swords Hank had salvaged, violently jolting the bristles back and forth over either rust, or really crusted on blood just above the hilt.

Doc usually kept you in the loop of long jobs, sometimes you'd even be in walkie talkie range of your partner and could hear his voice. He could be hurt, he could be dead, you'd be none the wiser, and that was maddening.

Of course you weren't needy and dependant on him, that'd be too much, but just a sign he was okay would've been enough to give you peace of mind. It's the not knowing that drove you to dark places.

Bang!

You jumped in your seat as the front door slammed. "Baby, you here? I'm back." Dropping the blade, you got to you feet and rushed to the door.

"Sanford, you're okay?!" You leaped into his arms, and he caught you easily. Oh sweet security, your world had come home to you safely.

"Yeah babe," San leaned back slightly to get a good look at you, his loving gaze turning to concern. "uh, hope you don't mind me sayin' doll/stud, but you look like hell." His hands brushed over your hair. "...When did you last shower?"

Suddenly you felt rather embarrassed, it'd been a.... couple days at least. Probably about a week since you'd stopped properly taking care of yourself. Swapping meals out for multiple junk snacks, a fucked up sleeping schedule consisting of occasional naps but mostly anxious pacing and activity.

"Uhm..." That was an answer enough for him.

"Baby," Sanford rubbed his cheek, clearing off some dust from his face. "you need to take care of yourself." He sighed and took off his sunglasses. "Have you even been eating properly?"

You didn't meet his gaze. "Okay. Tell you what," He took off his dirty tank top and tossed it aside. "I'll pull out something from the freezer, shove it in the oven while we get a nice shower, and then we can eat and get some rest." Just being near him, hearing his melodic voice again was enough to bring you to a sense of normalcy.

Sanford was fine, he was alive, he was here.

"Things have just been a bit... off without you." You sighed, clinging to his frame, almost afraid if you let him go, he'd run off for another two weeks, or longer. "Sorry, it's just been a lot to deal with, not knowing where you were, if you were safe... It's been hard."

"I get it. I do, I really do," Sanford had his own experiences with deep depression, despite being the large stoic type, the horrors of war, what he and his friends had to do to get an advantage against everything haunted him. "fight, flight, freeze is a real thing, but you can't just shut down baby. You gotta keep fightin, keep yourself in good shape 'cause it's a scary world out there."

"I know. It's easier said than done though." Sanford pulled out a tray of his legendary frozen mac n cheese, you hadn't checked the freezer since he'd left, otherwise that would've been long gone. You didn't know how he did it, but it was godly each time he made it.

"I get that." He shoved the tray into the oven, flicking switches to heat up the frozen dish. "You gotta change how you think, baby." You watched him take off his bandanna, revealing his hair. Or lack thereof.

"You shaved your head?" Usually he'd grow out his hair, style it into long locs and keep them tied back and under his bandanna, but once in a blue moon he'd get bored of maintaining them, and shave it off to start again.

Sanford ran a hand over his scalp, feeling the small curls starting to reappear. "Yeah, easier than trying to keep it clean out there. Dusty as hell." His hands came to rest on your shoulders, turning you to the bathroom. "No bother, I've got your hair to care for now. I'mma spoil you rotten."

Years of caring for his baby siblings had taught the beefcake that just telling someone what to do usually didn't help, but doing it along side them helped solidify the action. He'd help you get cleaned up, get back to eating proper food and getting proper sleep.

He needed to fall into the routine too, sleeping rough in trucks was a pain in his back, and access to his comfy old bed would do him wonders to getting decent sleep again. A full belly and his favourite person in the entire world cuddling into his pecs definitely helped too.

Yes, he needed this just as much as you did.

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pendingnomdeplume · 23 days ago

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i am drowning, and there's no sign of land pairing: hozier x gn!reader rating: T tags: angst, mental illness, hurt/comfort words: 761

author's note: This was pre-written and is part of a backlog of items I still have from the previous blog. xoxo.

title from: No Children by The Mountain Goats divider by: cafekitsune

It’s late when you call, a last resort for which you’ll profusely apologize and ask forgiveness that you’ll never believe or accept. The stains of leftover tears make your skin feel tight as you rub at your swollen eyes and take a deep breath. At least your breathing has evened, no longer wracked with hiccuping sobs that make your ribs hurt.

“Hey, are you okay?” It’s the first thing to rush from his mouth, worry obvious in his voice. You can imagine him now, frizzy hair thrown up and out of the way while he sits at his computer or hunches over a notebook—the anxiety gripping his chest as he sees your name pop up at an hour that is usually all his own.

The only response you can summon is a humorless laugh as you shake your head despite him not being able to see it.

“Do you need me to call someone?” Andrew wouldn’t ask without reason, and you’d provided plenty of reason for this level of concern before.

“Nothing so dire.” You wince at the way your voice cracks. “It’s just…it’s been a night.”

“Tell me about it.”

It’s such a simple phrase, but it makes your heart swell and tears prick the corners of your eyes. One of the few people who’s never made you feel like a burden on them.

You sigh. “My brain won’t stop, and it’s so loud today. I don’t know what actually triggered it, but…it’s been pretty touch-and-go the last few days.”

You brace yourself for an impact that likely won’t come. Andrew isn’t like that, won’t blame you for not reaching out sooner as if it’s a moral failing. Likely, he’ll be more frustrated with himself for not seeing signs even when you’ve worked so hard to conceal them.

“Did you email your psych?”

The question sends an electric buzz of irritation along your skin that you try to shake off. He knows you hate that question, but he also knows that you drag your feet on your own well-being—part of the menagerie of mental illness that convinces you it doesn’t matter anyway. You pause and take a deep breath to swallow down the snappy comment that desperately wants to break free.

“I did, but I don’t know when I’ll hear back.”

You’re both quiet as each of you thinks of the next thing to say, but everything that comes to mind is just as alarming as the call itself. A barrage of self-doubt, self-pity, and self-deprecation tumbles through your brain, and you squeeze your eyes shut as though it will do anything to quiet the roar.

“Do you…want to talk about it?” The question is asked thoughtfully and extended carefully. You take a moment to turn it over in your mind, gauging where exactly your own emotional energy is at.

Finally, you shake your head. “No, I don’t think…I don’t think there’s anything to really talk about. Not right now, anyway. I just…”

I just don’t feel real. I need an anchor to reality.

Andrew asks, “Do you want to get on FaceTime, then? I’m working on something if you want to hear.” If you need company.

When the screen fills with his image, he smiles and greets you softly. An acoustic guitar rests in his lap as he flips back through his notebook to find where he’d left off. As he plucks out quiet notes, you shimmy down under the covers and reach over to turn off your bedside lamp. Andrew glances over when he notices the shift in his peripheral vision, and he smiles again when he sees your eyes peeking out from beneath your duvet, already starting to get heavy with sleep.

You watch him for a while, occasionally catching the way he glances at his phone to see if you’re still there, still awake. Warmth floods your chest as he sings to himself, little sounds and whispers here and there as you catch a few words that make little sense to you within the greater context.

Sleep takes you just as the sky begins to shift. The birds just outside Andrew’s window signal dawn, and he’d nearly forgotten he was on a call at all with how comfortable and cozy the silence is between you.

He catches the way your eyes dart beneath closed eyelids, clearly in the depths of a dream. He whispers your name once, then repeats it louder than before, but you barely stir. Finally, he reaches over, letting his hand hover over the End Call button before whispering a barely audible, “Goodnight.”

#hozier fic #hozier x reader #sailor scout stories #scout has a backlog #i wrote this four months ago when i was really fucking in it and it's still relevant now so here you go

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venusmage · 7 months ago

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Commission/Life update for 2024

EDIT 9/16/24

As of now I've resolved around 15 commissions since this post was made at the start of June! This is much faster than I was going the past year. They're going well and I thank everyone again who has been so patient and kind. I've gotten nothing but kindness as a response to the wait, even from those who have been waiting for over a year by now. Thank you.

I recently started two new jobs and school again, so I'm a little busy. BUT everyone is (albeit not at a super fast speed) moving up in queue! Once the owed "Full" commissions are done, I expect to get through Sketch Coms even faster and currently I'm at a good pace to be done by the end of the year.

The best days to reach me are Mondays, Wednesdays and Thursdays at the moment. Otherwise it might take me a day or so to get back to you. I work on my own projects on the weekends to preserve my sanity, lol! Just know if I'm drawing something else, I haven't forgotten my queue!

------

Original post:

Just want everyone to know I AM okay now and life has gotten better recently. However the past year and a half have been extremely difficult and I'm only now getting back on my feet. I generally don't like sharing life details publicly, but as a freelancer with clients that have been waiting for a while I feel like transparency is key.

If you don't want an explanation for the delays and just want to know my completion timeline, that's totally okay. Here is all the info up front. I'm going to continue updating my commission queue as usual and will not be accepting any more orders until ALL of the queue is completed. I'm working on finishing the half and full bodies first since they've been the longest waiting in queue. Then the rest. I don't have a set date in mind for when they'll be all done for good but the goal is by the end of the year. I think that's more than doable for me now. If you're a client of mine and have questions/concerns, please message me either here or on Discord and I'll do my best to help you. My username on discord is the same as my Tumblr username. Twitter and Ko-Fi are also options but I don't check them as frequently. I usually work Monday-Thursday so that will be the best time to shoot me a message or expect an update to the queue.

Information on what's been going on is below.

CW for mentions of death, financial hardship and homophobia.

As a few of you might remember, in 2019 I was disowned by my mother for being a lesbian. I made the choice to go no-contact. Since then, up until LAST YEAR, she's routinely harassed me or had other family harass me, stalked me on social media, tried to get to me through the website I take commission orders, and threatened me multiple times. I was forced to move across the country both because I felt unsafe and because my partner had family elsewhere that were more accepting. I've had to change my phone number twice.

It's been extremely difficult both financially and mentally to keep my head above water. In 2021 my grandfather died and I still haven't felt like I've been able to properly grieve. I wasn't able to see him due to her and I wasn't invited to his funeral. We were very close and he meant the world to me. In 2023 my grandmother passed away very suddenly as well, and my mother used it as an excuse to harass me over ko-fi/my professional email. It was such a horrific experience that I fell into a months long spiral that I only just now feel like I'm climbing out of. This is when commissions first stalled. I was also starting to get overwhelmed, as I had to take on more work than I could realistically handle in order to pay bills and rent. That's really it - I just had to take more orders so we weren't kicked out of our apartment, and as my mental state deteriorated I couldn't keep up.

The good news is that my wife and moved earlier this year we're living with supportive(!) family now and our financial burden is much lighter. This gives me time to work on my backlog without re-opening. I'm also going to school again, back in college starting this summer for a second degree. For my own health after commissions are finished I'm likely going to take a break on opening them for a good while, even though I really enjoy doing them.

In the past two months amazing and not-amazing things have happened. The amazing thing is I got an ADHD diagnosis, something I didn't even know had been ruining my life for years. I'm still getting used to the proper medications but I'm already seeing a big improvement. It's as much of a relief as it is frustrating. My mother also reared her head again (like she usually does at least once a year) - this time, though, I learned she'd had a stroke. While I'm not involved with her anymore, I think most people could understand how it would still be a very weird and upsetting situation. As of right now I'm free of her once again, she seems to be making a good recovery and will hopefully continue to live a happy life far away from me. Still, those two things back to back have been a LOT to deal with on top of just trying to get better in general. I stepped away from the internet for a while for my own sanity.

The downside to being a freelancer is that there's not always a safety net. That's what happened to me. Thank you all very much for being kind and patient, I genuinely have had nothing but polite interactions with all of you and I really appreciate it. I'm sorry my personal bullshit got in the way of getting my work done for you. This is the longest I've ever taken to complete commissions and it's something that I'm deeply ashamed of. I promise they will get done. Being medicated and starting to recover from the family drama has revitalized me a bit. If you have any questions or concerns please reach out.

#no art here #life update #this is gonna be pinned and linked on my queue

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carry-on-my-wayward-butt · 2 months ago

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I think some people have the Shrug It Off gene, where when something bad happens they Shrug It Off onto the floor and keep going and maybe they trip over it later, maybe break a bone or get a concussion when they do, while other people have the Burdens gene where they're Burdened by problems until they're worked through and can be put away. And the Shrug It Off people get very confused when you complain about how heavy the Burden is while you work on it, because their problem weighs nothing since it's on the ground

I have no advice for dealing with then, tho. This framework just makes it easier for me to go Yeah Uh-Huh Sure and let their advice fall out of my ears cause I Don't Have That So That Doesn't Apply To Me. And I still lose that battle sometimes

i like this!!! this is a good one bc like, literally losing my home and all my possessions had me like "on to better things thursday" but literally just knowing i have a backlog of assignments is killing me dead.

i think i'm good with the 'serenity to accept the things i cannot change' but i'm really struggling so fucking hard with 'the power to change the things i can' because i certainly have 'the wisdom to know the difference' cuz i mean if i didnt know the difference i'd probably be able to shrug off anything.

god i wish i could re-trait myself in CAS

#op

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itsclydebitches · 10 months ago

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Okay, so I saw this RWBY meme made by a fan and I can't remember it completely but it was about Emerald switching sides. What stood out to me was the language used and how Ruby's group was specifically referred to as "The Good Guys side" and if that doesn't show how broken this show's morality is then I don't know what does. Emerald switched to the side of good, not just Ruby's side. The side that is specifically good because it's Ruby side. You're either with Ruby or against her with no in-between. Compare this to Aang's group in ATLA, affectionately called The Gaang by fans. A term that collectively refers to the group without proclaiming them as THE good guys. We know they're good because their actions show they are good. It isn't just a title grafted on because they're the stars of the show. And while they have an official grouping in the form of Team Avatar. It still isn't used in the same manner as RWBY fans calling all who agree with Ruby "The Good Guys".

Decided to start answering backlog asks! We've officially entered the post-RT discussion era. Fun! 😬

You know, RWBY is compared (unfavorably) to Avatar a lot, but this comparison is particularly interesting to me because Avatar is, well... Avatar. That's a title. And it's a title built into the fictional world, one that's so significant it's worthy of being the name of the show. The Avatar is a combined destiny/job description that, in the words of the wiki, is the "human embodiment of light and peace." Obviously free will still comes into play - I'd never ignore the significance behind Aang's personal choice of how to bring balance to the world - but there's an element of fate here, of self-fulfilling prophecy, and fourth wall-breaking knowledge. In-world, benders are (presumably) not chosen if they're unsuited to be this embodiment of peace. Once someone knows they're the avatar, they can more easily find the courage/determination to meet such high standards because this is how it's "supposed" to be (regardless of whether anything cosmic is actually ensuring their success). And the audience knows, by virtue of that title and our opening, how we're meant to view Aang: as the Good Guy of the story. All that already exists outside of the actions he takes within the show, helping to soften anything potentially suspect with a "Well, he's just a kid" or "Well, everyone makes mistakes," or whatever explanation that's technically true in any harrowing story featuring a young protagonist... but continually falls flat with Team RWBY.

Because RWBY didn't do that same work. RWBY doesn't have a handle on its own identity the way Avatar does. It laid some of the groundwork early on but then never capitalized on it, which is why I'm endlessly groaning over the failure of not doing anything with Ruby's status as a SEW/simple soul. Those could have easily been titles the way "Avatar" is a title, something that the people of Ruby's world see as cosmic evidence of her purity and inherent ability to lead them in this war. Instead, it's just a one-off, ambiguous statement and a very badly used skill.

So yeah, Emerald joins The Good Guys, which wouldn't be bad if, as said, the show had shown the group unambiguously being Good people in a war with black and white solutions. Or, if we had some reason to believe that Ruby is The One True Leader, destined/worthy of bearing this burden no matter the number of mistakes she's made. But RWBY even undermines the title aspect by making Ruby herself fairly inconsequential in later volumes. Yeah, the show is also named after this team/our protagonist... and yet that began to feel incidental as the cast grew AND many of the characters brought new - arguably better - perspectives + powers into the fray. Avatar made the simple but VERY important decision to say, "This is the ONLY GUY who can do this job. Sure, he's going to need a lot of help and saving the world is absolutely a team effort, but that team revolves around him because he is, again, the ONE PERSON who can accomplish this." RWBY failed to set that up and (arguably) failed to show the group being The Good Guys, at least to the extent that the whole world would understandably put their faith in a teenager who, frankly, just keeps making things worse. Like, that's a big consideration imo. Ruby's intentions have always been good and most fans are fully on her side regarding justifications for her choices, so in that sense she is absolutely The Good Guy, but beyond that she's just really bad at saving the world. So if she's not somehow ordained to do it and continually shows a severe lack of skill in this regard... why are the characters/the viewer rooting for her again?

#rwde #rwby #mymetas

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berryberrytaeberry · 3 months ago

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In the venn diagram that is Taylor Swift Evermore fans and mdzs Jiang Cheng apologists, I am probably the only person in the small overlapping center.

But oh well.

In this essay, I will explain why the bridge to Marjorie is Chengxian & (EDIT: fun fact, apparently Chengxian is a romantic only thing which i did not intend oopsie) Jiang Cheng pov coded because I think about it Every. Waking. Moment. Istfg.

The autumn chill that wakes me up

You loved the amber skies so much

The change of the seasons from summer to fall reminding JC of WWX is a cool motif imo. The leaves changing from green to brown and the skies darkening evokes the feeling of WWX's ghost cultivation tarnishing the cultivation world, but in a way that JC ultimately knows deep down is beautiful in its own way. WWX's birthday is also in October. This is also how we know the song isn't about Yanli--easy mistake, I know.

Long limbs and frozen swims

You'd always go past where our feet could touch

Swimming in lotus pier. JC is remembering WWX in the present (fall), where everything is dying, but summer activities like swimming remind him of his brother too. WWX would drag JC into the freezing water even in October. They were children, long limbed and gangly, and WWX would always swim further than was safe. Always attempting the impossible where JC wouldn't.

And I complained the whole way there

The car ride back and up the stairs

JC, my babygirl, my favorite complainer, my favorite well-meaning, grump you 😘❤️

I should've asked you questions

I should've asked you how to be

Asked you to write it down for me

And then the regret and guilt starts to creep in. JC hasn't acknowledged that he wishes WWX was still here yet, but there's a level of repressed admiration that chokes him. How did WWX do it all? Why isn't JC more like him? What rulebook for success did WWX follow when WWX never followed any rules? Why wasn't JC enough? All these thoughts race through his head.

Should've kept every grocery store receipt

'Cause every scrap of you would be taken from me

Watched as you signed your name Marjorie

Now, JC admits to grieving. He wishes he even had the smallest of scraps of his brother but it was ALL taken away from him. His whole family, his home, his authenticity. His kindness. This is why he holds so tight onto Chenqing for all those years. It's his last scrap of WWX (that he knows of). Unwittingly, the golden core within him, haunts him. His brother's veritable soul is IN him, and yet he's chasing the minutia of the simplicity of WWX writing his name.

All your closets of backlogged dreams

And how you left them all to me

Now, JC admits to the BURDEN of his grief. WWXs hidden dreams: a family, cultivation power, love, are all left to JC, and JC feels inadequate in all of them. But he will do it. He will do it. He will lose himself along the way. And he will never find his old self again. But he will yearn for his brother.

What died didn't stay dead

You're alive, you're alive in my head

JC will see WWX in Jin Lings face. In the way the water ripples across the pier. Every time he tastes lotus root soup and remembers who he used to share it with. It will drive him mad.

What died didn't stay dead

You're alive, so alive

WWX is resurrected. He didn't die. Why couldn't he just stay dead? JC had everything under control (lies). WWX is alive SO ALIVE and JC can't bear it. JC gave up on getting his brother back a decade ago

And if I didn't know better

I'd think you were singing to me now

But wasn't life with WWX good, for all the annoyances it brought? Wasn't the sound of his flute peaceful? *clenches fist around chenqing* The goddamned flute *throws flute across room* Thank god it's not broken. MXY is his brother. JC has never been more sure about anything.

If I didn't know better

I'd think you were still around

I know better

But I still feel you all around

I know better

But you're still around

Simultaneously, and paradoxically, JC convinces himself that he knows better, that it couldn't be true, none of these reveries and realizations matter because WWX is dead.

But he's not.

Dead, or alive, WWX is still around. His resurrection changes nothing and never will GAH-- THE ANGST OF IT ALL!!!

#mdzs #wei wuxian #wei ying #jiang cheng #the untamed #berry agenda rise #please for the love of god dont take this seriously #this is brain rot #and my curse to bear

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cripplecharacters · 5 months ago

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hi! i saw the ask you recently posted regarding the amount and date of asks currently in your queue, and im not sure if i understand the response fully. as you said your queue currently contains asks from early 2020, does this mean that at the moment the average time for an ask to be answered is about 4 years? this is not a complaint or anything of the sort, i understand and appreciate the massive amount of work you put into these answers - im just asking to know whether i should send in a question myself, as i usually dont work on building a character for several years, so i would just be burdening you with yet another ask that would no longer be applicable by the time of an answer. again i apologize if this comes off as rude and i really dont intend to be demanding, i just want to inform myself on how this blog works so i dont add to your workload needlessly. thanks for all the great work you do here!

Hello!

To clarify: The average time for an ask to be answered is NOT four years.

There isn't really an average wait time per ask since it differs so greatly but I'd say it's usually no more than a couple months? Somebody can correct me if I'm wrong though😅

Depending on the ask, it may be answered almost instantly and chucked into the queue or it may sit in our inbox for a while before somebody can get to it. This all depends on a few factors, including:

What's the ask about? If it's something that multiple mods can answer (Such as questions about autism, mobility aids, etc.), then it will likely be answered sooner. On the other hand, an ask about something more specific that fewer mods can answer (Such as progressive vision loss or albinism) will likely take a bit longer.

How detailed is the ask? If it's a question that's more simple and can be answered without as much effort/energy, it will usually make it's way into the queue quicker than a question that's more detailed/specific to the asker's story/characters, which will take a bit longer.

What topics does the ask deal with? Sometimes there are asks with heavier topics that can be more difficult to deal with. In my experience, I find that I have trouble spending too much time on these asks at once and I'll usually draft an answer and then go back to them after a few days.

This is by no means an official 'why your ask hasn't been answered yet' post, just some clarification and a few of my own observations but hopefully it's helpful!

Cheers,

~ Mod Icarus

Editing to add:

A huge part of why there’s such a big backlog is also that, for around a year or more, there was really only one active mod on the blog.

As you can imagine, this blog is kind of a lot for just one person to run. So the backlog built as it was much harder for just one person to do it.

For reference, we now have 10-11 mods, which helps us be able to do more questions.

Hope that helps for some context!

Mod Sparrow

#mod icarus #anonymous #not writing advice #mod sparrow

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tvgremlin · 3 months ago

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Love reading your work! If you’re still taking prompts, maybe something with a hurt/comfort moment?

Thank you so much! Here is you're hurt/comfort with a dash of Carmy and Richie acting a fool because I couldn't resist!

Reminder that my ask box is still open for prompts- I've almost worked through my backlog so keep them coming!!

Anyway... heres the fic!

Citrus

They are standing side by side in the kitchen, prepping citrus. She’s dicing a grapefruit, he’s zesting lemons. The toes of their shoes touch. She loves him here.

He’s making her laugh with a story about an old colleague when her hand slips, slicing into the thin webbing between her thumb and pointer finger.

“Shit.” She says, sucking in a breath as a river of crimson falls onto the cutting board. She feels his hand come to wrap around hers, a rag placed to stop the bleeding.

Both of them are shaking. They pretend not to notice.

He takes her into the office, his hand on her arm as he guides her down the hall. She has started to cry now. She is not proud.

“It’s okay,” he tells her, “You’re okay.”

His words are tender and caring. She is safe here.

“Let me look at it,” He pulls the rag away, examining the wound. It’s not as deep as he originally thought. They can handle it here.

“It’s not that bad,” He sits her down at the desk, crossing the room to get the first aid kit. “I’ll clean it and you’ll be okay.”

“Okay,” She’s calmed down a bit, comforted by his presence. He is steady, he is good, and he cares about her.

She loves him here.

He cleans the wound with his forehead pressed against hers.

“You're okay,” He repeats as she sucks in a harsh breath, “You’re okay.”

She watches as he wraps the cut, his touch so tender it is almost painful. She feels treasured here. Cared for like a blessing rather than a burden.

“Thanks,” She says, “I’m better now.”

Her words carry more meaning than either can process, so they let it hang in the air. In the space between their noses and lips, the truth sits. That this is it for them.

This was always how it was supposed to be.

He kisses her then, his lips soft against hers. She loves him. She hopes she finds the courage to say it soon.

Her good hand is in his hair, deepening the kiss. God, he is so good.

“You okay Chef?” Richie calls out, making his way towards the office to check on her, only to be met with what was to him, an unsavory sight.

“Jesus Christ, get a room cousin!” he yells as they separate, hideously embarrassed.

“Fuck off!” Carmy pulls away from her, cheeks flaming as he goes to shut Richie out.

“Hey, Sorry for interrupting,” Richie holds his hand up in mock surrender, laughing at Carmy’s anger in the process, “I just wanted to check in on Chef Syd.”

“I’m okay,” She says from her place at the desk, holding up her bandaged hand as proof, “Carmy took good care of me.”

“I bet he did.” he winks at her.

“Cousin!” Carmy is on him again, “You can’t say shit like that!”

Behind him, Sydney is laughing now too, because, despite everything, she is so fucking happy.

Her man and his family surround her in the restaurant they built.

She has everything she ever wanted, and everything she never thought to want.

And she shares it all with the person she loves.

thank you for reading! Read the rest of the prompts and my other fics here

#sydcarmy #the bear #sydney adamu #carmy the bear #the bear fx #syd x carmy #fanfic writing #carmen berzatto #fanfic #carmy berzatto #Sydcarmy fanfic #tvgremlin writes

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yandere-yearnings · 2 months ago

Note

Just to be sure that I don’t send the wrong thing, what do you consider ask and requests?

nonnie🥺 it's sweet of you to wanna confirm beforehand, that honestly means a lot to me, thank you!!

an ask can be literally anything under the sun, whether it's interacting with me or yk,, asking abt my ocs🤧 which could range from anything to specific questions or wanting to know abt their reactions to certain scenarios ect. answers would also generally be more conversational in nature (??)

what differentiates an ask from a request imo is that it lacks that pressure to churn out a written piece in response if that makes sense. if you're starting out with 'can you write...' then it's a writing request, if you're saying smth like 'can i have a part two of xyz' it's a writing request.

really, it's just the way things are worded that makes the difference, sometimes i have nonnies who like to come in with little scenarios and it's like an 'imagine if this happened' type of thing, sometimes i get ideas from them, sometimes i do respond with writing. anything's game as long as it doesn't feel like a demand, or burden to my creative process.

that being said, my nonnies are always super kind and respectful anyway and i appreciate them all sm, so i hope no one feels like they have to walk on eggshells around me😭 i'm not gonna get mad at or hound anyone even if they do slip-up, it's just that i'm likely not going to be able to respond to it in a timely manner, hence trying to avoid them all together, yk? i have a backlog of old ones i do intend on getting to (anyone who's waiting on smth they've sent in, i apologise😔💔)

but i hope this answered your question nonnie!! you can send what you'd like w/o fear and i'll take it from there❗️❗️

#lovenotesfromdar #i really appreciate this honestly tho #not taking requests is less of a boundary type thing and more:#i don't wanna dissapoint anyone by not responding within a set time #or w/ shitty writing #and it stresses me out #so i'd just rather not do it #even then it's nice when ppl are considerate enough to ask for clarification #i'm sorry in advance if this confused you more tho nonnie i'm pretty bad at explaining things if that wasn't clear alr haha #😔

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runnning-outof-time · 6 months ago

Text

Looking forward….

First I want to say thank you so much to everyone who left a comment on the post I made about feeling stuck — I’ve said it before and I’ll continue to always say it: I’ve never been part of a community like this one. Your response to my situation felt like a huge hug…one that I truly needed.

I mentioned in that post that I was considering deleting all of the requests I’ve had backlogged and starting fresh when I felt ready to. I was so close to doing just that … but then I looked through the requests that I had and found myself being genuinely excited to write some of them.

So here’s what I’ve decided to do …

I’m going to keep 10 requests - that way the load will feel a little lighter and the burden of having so many backlogged will (hopefully) lift.

For the requests that I turn down - I’ve decided that instead of writing a full fic, I’ll share a few thoughts - headcanons if you will - on the scenario … I’ll call it my author notes or something of the sort. I hope that will at least alleviate some of the blow of it being turned down….and if it doesn’t, oh well - you can’t say I didn’t at least try to honor it.

And in the future - I’m going to make sure that I 1: limit the amount of requests I take on so I don’t feel this way again, 2: turn down requests that I know I can’t write to 100% of my ability, or at least provide some author notes for it.

I hope y’all will find this as a sufficient way for me to continue — I really want to try and keep people happy, while also keeping me happy and in check.

Again, thank you SO MUCH for all of the love you’ve shared on my previous post — I’m so thankful to be part of this community. 🧡

#k speaks #tl;dr i think i’ve got things figured out - requests might look a little different for a bit but i’m gonna get them shared

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docholligay · 6 months ago

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Obviously we're different people with different life experiences and tastes, but reading your HtN review I think we had a very similar takeaways. I hated the first book, but found the second a vast improvement (aside from Gideon). I hope one day you read Nona, because I think it's my favorite of the bunch (though it has its own stupid bullshit, but it's truly a book about love, devotion, and the burden of that) -- but it also made me think I'll never read Alecto. I don't trust Muir, I guess?

I think "I don't trust you" is the perfect takeaway I have from having read Gideon and Harrow. If I had to put up with another book full of ridiculous memey bullshit I would have to throw myself into the sun. I know there can be beauty in her work because I HAVE SEEN IT WITH MINE OWN EYES, but so much of it is wrapped up in her weird "I was very oniine in the same time Holligay was also in online fandom and it shows" stuff and that GRATES on me.

So, there is stuff i loved in Harrow! I still think about Mercymorn and how much I love her as a character and even UNDERSTAND her on a base level. It is unflattering, but she is the most 'tag yourself' of the entire bookverse for me. ANd even in Gideon, which I much more out and out hated, I will scream until my DEATH how much I fucking LOVE the necro/cav thing, and that it can be used to describe so many TYPES of intense relationship. It's also fun to think about with one's blorbim*! Love it. I think it's great.

But yeah, I have 0% faith that the third book would be good, because I have read the first book and the first book at a certain point made me APOPLECTIC. Absolutely LOST MY SHIT about how mad it made me. So do I want to risk that, when I have a huge backlog of books to read and basically never find myself wondering what to read next? Not really, no.

*Lena is a cavalier and Michiru is a necromancer. Fucking obviously.

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riewritten · 2 years ago

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Idk I love every scene you write, mostly Erwin physically touching the Mc, hugging her, comforting her etc. or you can draw one of your favorite scenes

this got nothing to do with what OP was originally talking about (they r talking about dusk in the brightest fanfic btw) but hey. the prompt is suddenly in line w/ my mood.

𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐈𝐒 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍 𝐀 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐋𝐄?

ERWIN X GEN!NEUTRAL READER, ERWIN X YOU, NO Y/N

WORDS: 1.2k

idk what to tag aside from fluff & comfort bc the author is having an utterly terrible day again. i am scraping every bit of serotonin boost i could get because :( it’s just so :(

Heap of documents splattered across the table, to-dos that you weren't able to note hence long forgotten, the messages you intentionally leave unopened because it makes you sick, and all your utterances of "Okay, I'll get on to this one once I'm not burdened by the other task," which is, in hindsight, very counterintuitive because you can't even function anymore — because everything makes you sick. And there's this looming worry that, what if, what if this is all I could get?

"Hey,"

What if this is the farthest I could be for the rest of my life?

"Look at me,"

If I can't accomplish more—if I won't be able to finish this all, how dare I say I'll reach places farther than where I am?

What if—

Thoughts were cut off when a warm huge palm took a hold of your cheek.

"I told you to look at me."

"Oh, Erwin, regarding the deadline, I'm currently on it now. Have you seen the email I sent for your approval? A-and—" you panicky roamed at the papers in search of something you can't even mentally grasp as of the moment.

Only to halt in sheer terror when you hear Erwin sigh as he sat on the table.

Now you can't look at him in the eye, "I'm so sorry. I'll do better next time."

"There's something more important for you to do better right now."

You met his eyes in a hitch. But even before you could respond, Erwin took hold of your hand; his fingers then started massaging your palm.

He first pressed on your thenar—a point just below your thumb. It was an utterly gentle massage, perhaps aware that with wrong pressure, his broad and strong fingers could instead hurt you. "Does your head hurt?"

You think there are lots of questions that are more important to ask right now, but still, "Yes, a bit."

He hummed, then his hands moved a bit. Still below your thumb, but leaning towards its edge. He pressed on it—repeatedly, languidly, while looking at you with features tranquil—perhaps he's trying to pass the same mood to you.

"Erwin, I have lots to do that will become backlogs if—"

"Shh,"

You purse your lips out of instinct.

You could laugh—hell, you would, but that doesn't erase his gentle command. For long you've been with Erwin, you already know that the most serious favors (or orders) are the ones he delivered with sheer gentleness.

"How about your back? Does it hurt?"

"Uh huh. I've been seated all day."

After a last press, his fingers transferred to the point below your pinky. He silently did his work yet again, and now you feel the effects of it.

"Wow. Where did you learn this?"

"It's called acupressure. I actually already do this to you during the most random of times. Bet you thought I was just playing with your hands."

You chucked; yes, all this time you thought Erwin was just mindlessly fumbling your hands.

"And, for the last one…" He didn't ask a question this time around. His silly giant fingers just automatically shifted to the lower part of your palm, parallel to where your ring finger rests. "Here we go."

"What is this part for, Mr. Smart?"

The question was followed suit with a bell—the signal that the work shift is over.

Finally, Erwin clicked a warm smile, scooted his head lower and gave your lips a small peck. After all, when the work shift is over, he can go all lovely on you again.

"Thank you," you whispered as soon as he withdraw his lips on yours. "So, what does this part of my palm cure, hm?"

He pressed on that spot again, his smile—while not gone at all—toned down a bit. A slight squint of your eyes and you'd think he turned quite lamentful.

"This part eases anxiety."

Your smile faded, something Erwin already anticipated.

It's not because he confronted you so subtly, but he also didn't bother asking if you really are before pressing on that part. He saw it so well.

"I'm all fine now," you halted his fingers by squeezing your hand on it. "Let me get back to my work."

"Nuh-uh, shift's done now."

To establish the off-work mood, Erwin worked on removing his necktie. If you weren't so tired you'd gush at how hot the sight was, but then again, he didn't give you time to process everything. He slyly stood up and covered your eyes with the tie.

You are being blindfolded by your man. Why?

"Hey, the hell—"

"Shh," he landed a kiss on top of your head. You heard him roam his pocket, then a opening pop came. Not long after, a strong scent tingled your senses.

"What is that? It smells like lavender."

"Heh," Erwin proudly huffed. "Levi bought me one. It's an essential oil."

You laughed a bit loudly. Now, despite his eccentricities, you can't help but be endeared. Oh, what were your concerns again? What about staying in the same place for the rest of your life?

Not like the bother would subside just like that, but this is one of the things you'd be willing to stay in for the rest of your life.

"Old fart."

"Am I, now?" Erwin cooed as his finger damped the oil on the tip of your nose—just so you'd smell it more. "Such a handsome old man, am I not?"

You grinned softly. "And all mine."

Despite the constricted vision, you're sure as hell Erwin's smiling from behind too. He genuinely loves whenever you speak of owning him.

"See, your handsome old man wants you to sleep a bit but your mind is not being kind to you right now."

"And what does it have to do with getting my eyes blind?"

"It is so your brain momentarily shuts the fuck up. It would most likely start when it doesn't see anything anymore, no?"

"Watch your mouth, mister."

You felt his lips on yours, teasingly so, with fingers—pleasantly reeks of lavender—gliding over your cheeks. The sweet exchange, soft chapped lips, and little bit of tounge playing at the corner of your lips covered you in utter solace. This is all you could wish for, all you needed. Just the thought of your needs being met at its most tipping core renders you lightheaded.

That's why when Erwin withdrew from the kiss, you were already panting.

"Yeah? What's with watching my mouth, hm?"

"More."

"I'll give your demands once you grant mine."

"What's your demand? Fuck."

"Sleep."

"How can I sleep with this. Please."

Just as if he knew the answer. Erwin grabbed you to stand up, sat on the chair, and had you sit on his lap instead. He urged you to burry your head on the crook of his neck, engulfed your figure to his embrace, and uttered soothing hums.

Indeed, it was answered. Seconds away and you're already lulled to sleep.

What if this is the farthest I could be for the rest of my life?

Well, if you have this lovingly eccentric man on your side, the farthest could never be absolute.

What if this is all I could get?

What is more to get than a love this gentle?

🏷 @frenchdyer (slightly inspired by your OC office AU btw :')) @watyousayin | SUBSCRIBE TO STORIES

MORE OF SWEET SUBTLETIES: EPISODIC SERIES HERE

sorry. i know there are some series u want to be updated more than this, but im just too down and mind fucked to strategize. all i can do is a self-insert. yes, this is the first ever genuine self-insert ive made

bc today i emptied my bank acc due my mom's hospital emergency, spilled coffee on my work laptop, and almost cried with all the work i had to do bc it daunted to me that im not even keeping up with the schoolworks that i missed yet due to the weeklong out-of-town conference we had in work.

and it's seriously taxing questions of what if this the farthest i could get bc of how incapable i am? honestly, i'd rather die than stay in where i am rn.

DILLEMA ASIDE, erwin is the embodiment of my support system in my previous environment! yes, the acupressure and ointment is a habit my ex taught me (hope they’re in a good place rn. theyre such a kind person!!)

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nerves-nebula · 2 years ago

Note

Trigger warning for Donnie’s suicide note!

—

Leo finds out last.

She’s at the apartment, unloading the groceries she’d just gotten home from buying. They had a bit of excess food money this month, so she’d splurged and bought some special treats for herself and her brothers. She knew Mikey loved those gross sticky gummy candies, so she’d bought a huge family size pack of them just for him. Raph tended to forget to eat when he was in a hurry, so she’d picked up some meal supplement bars that she’d make sure to sneak into his backpack. Donnie, she’d spent some extra time thinking about. His texture issues made buying food for him harder, but she’d eventually settled on a box of water flavor packets that had some great nutritional stuff in it. Hopefully Donnie would like it, and if not she would just dare Raph to drink the packets raw.

She didn’t hear her phone ring from the table, too busy with her task. She couldn’t the stuff that needed to be refrigerated go bad.

As she finished she gave a twirl, feeling free in her new dress. Of all people, Casey had found it for her! It had tons of ruffles in the skirt that made it super poofy and felt so soft against her skin.

She took out the recycling while she was at it.

When she got back to the apartment it took her an extra ten minutes to remember where she’d put down her phone. When she finally found it anxiety spiked in her chest.

Fifteen missed calls.

Thirty-two texts from Mikey.

Ten texts from Raph.

Forty-six texts from April.

Seven texts from Casey.

One text from Donnie.

She opened the backlog.

Donathan💜👓: Hey, I left something on your bedside table. Grab it when you can, okay? Love you.

She frowned. The message was weird. She could count the number of times they’d texted “I love you” on one hand, and she only had three fingers! She made her way towards her room as she went and opened up the rest of the messages.

Sewer Bigfoot🏒: dude call raph

Sewer Bigfoot🏒: smthn bad happened with don

Sewer Bigfoot🏒: pls answer ur phone man

Sewer Bigfoot🏒: raph needs u 2 get all dons paperwork stuff

Sewer Bigfoot🏒: were at the hidden city main hospital

Sewer Bigfoot🏒: call when you can

Sewer Bigfoot🏒: im so sorry

Alright, now she was getting scared. She got to her room and immediately found what Donnie had left. A piece of paper, folded in perfect thirds. She had bought him this cardstock for Christmas. He only used it for things he thought were of the utmost importance.

“Leonardo,

I want to apologize to you. We made a promise to each other, a goofy promise, but a promise nonetheless. I’m going to break that promise.

I’m really proud of how you’ve grown. You’ve become one of my favorite people in the world, despite everything. You are strong and brave and you’ve learned how to love with your whole heart. I know you’ll grow and do amazing things.

Mikey and Raph have grown, too. Mikey’s art is going to take off in the Hidden City, I just know it, and Raph has the potential to do anything he sets his mind to. Gosh, I sound like I kindergarten teacher, but it’s true. I couldn’t be more proud of my family.

But I’m holding you back. I haven’t grown. If anything, I’m regressing. I can’t see a future for me where I do anything but hurt or hinder you, and I never want to do that. I want you to be free to live without the restraint of caring for a useless burden of a brother.

So I’m taking myself out of the equation.

I know it’s unfair of me to ask you to understand my reasoning. I know its unfair to ask you not to be sad or to not grieve.

I just hope one day you’ll understand.

Please don’t follow me.

Your brother always,

Donatello.”

Leo called Raph.

——

Yay! If you like it I’ll write everyone else’s perspectives, too.

-Monster Anon

*in tears* UM. OW???? I'M SUPPOSED TO BE THE ONE MANIACALLY CACKLING WHILE THROWING ANGST AT YOU GUYS??? WhaT thE Hell??

anyway I was thinking of how donnie would try to kill himself and I thought of him and his brothers joking around and Leo being like "Remember when you got so upset you turned yourself into a monster for like a week??" and Donnie laughing and saying "Yeah, b-b-but in my defense I've l-learned from my p-past! I only drink p-poison when I know ex-exactly what it'll do!" and they all laugh and Donnie is just sitting there like: They Dont Know I'm Going To Mystically Poison Myself :)

#nnstuff #suicide tw #ask #tmnt donnie #teenage mutant neglected turtles #neglected fic #tmnt leo

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