#and honestly I never thought I had it in me to write that much when it came to fan work but

[bkgexe]

if all else fails, i was myself

bakugou x reader ✾ 4.6k

info! no smut sorry gang ✾ tw! trust issues that manifest as issues w physical intimacy/contact, dubcon in its vaguest definition (NOT bkg & reader) ✾ notes! ive been in perpetual writers block for months. is this trite idk. i miss my baby but anytime i write for him im like oops this is gonna be 60k words!!! so here is. a drabble lmao. also big lmao moment this is titled after count me out by kendrick lamar ldskfjdlkjf which was on repeat while writing so uh sorry mr. lamar abt the mha fanfic

katsuki has always known that part of him is wrong.

he’s never liked being touched. every kiss he’s experienced has made him tense as an elevator cable poised to snap. any attempt to go further than that has made him a little ill, made his gut feel like a stack of loose papers being torn to shreds, slow and loud.

it doesn’t help that he’s only ever had three kisses in his life: eijirou at a new year’s party (too many teeth), eijirou again at another new year’s party nearly a decade later (too much tongue), and then his fourth date with kyoka (when he tried to convince himself he just had to push through the discomfort to become normal).

things went further than that. it was a mistake. they both knew it right after it happened—kyoka first, and then katsuki after his head stopped pounding with what if i'm doing this wrong what if she's pitying me for fucking this up what if i don't know how to touch another person correctly what if i was supposed to learn at some point and i missed it how could i fucking miss it will it always be like this because i can't do this again i can't i don't—

“kat," she said after. she looked at him with something only a few degrees removed from pity, and poorly removed at that.

he attempted a halting non-apology. he attempted a real apology. failed at both.

"it's okay, you know," she said. "to not like it."

he scoffed even though he wasn’t entirely clear on what she meant by it, because there was so much he didn’t like. “i like it just fine.”

“if that was liking it, I’m honestly worried about your capacity for enjoying life in general.” it wasn’t a joke. her bluntness was something that'd made katsuki think he could push his boundaries with her. all of her thoughts were laid out plain for him to read, an open-source journal. “i'm just saying you don't have to like it. and you don’t have to force yourself to do things you don’t want to do. don't fuck yourself over for someone else's happiness.”

kyoka still texts him often, checks in, invites him to drinks with their friends. she’s kind. she’s normal. she doesn’t have this weird, shredded thing inside her that makes her balk at the idea of someone’s hand on her skin. that makes her think she's doing something wrong, even if she's not the one that initiated the touch.

when you started your job at the front desk of katsuki’s agency, he never thought that he'd be here, wishing above everything that he could just be normal. just for one fucking day, so he could laugh at your shitty jokes and maybe brush his knuckles across the back of your hand in passing and take you on a date where he could kiss you in his car after driving you home and the thought wouldn’t make his skin crawl, wouldn't tear up his insides to pulp.

because he fucked everything up. he's standing in his empty office where you'd been spending time with him and he fucked it up and hurt you and he's not sure how to unfuck it.

the thing is, he could grin and bear it. he could deal with the odd thing inside him that hates the contact and white-knuckle it through every kiss, every caress. but he’s never been a great actor. he wouldn’t be able to hide that from you.

(kyoka told him, years later, that it’s not that the sex itself wasn’t fine—what made it nearly unbearable for her was the fact that she could tell, only after it was too late, that being physically vulnerable with her pained him far more than he was willing to reveal.)

no one wants to feel like the person they’re with is grinning and bearing it. that they’re white-knuckling it through. katsuki knows this. he knows he’s basically a fucking virgin all but in title at thirty and that he’s got the personality of a dried-out fig you find in your fridge weeks after its last edible moments. he doesn't have much to offer.

but he walked into work one day and nodded at you, curt, a grimace on his face—and you smiled at him so kindly that his stomach twisted.

with you, it wasn't the feeling of something being torn apart. it was different, lighter. leaves wrenched into the sky by a strong breeze. still a kind of tearing, but different—less destructive.

he was wearing a deep carmine sweater his mom sent him in one of her bi-monthly care packages (as if he’s not an adult, and a pro-hero on top of that), and you said, “that’s such a nice color on you. is it new?”

there was that breeze inside his chest, strong, pulling at his bones. “yeah,” he grunted. then slowly, as if remembering how: “thanks.”

it was the attention, he thought at first, that piqued his interest. he wasn't used to it. people always watched him from afar, and he had fans online that were borderline obsessive, but people didn’t approach him. they didn’t say that’s such a nice color on you. they didn’t smile the way you smile.

he’s always had a shallow streak. it’s not like he doesn’t know this. it’s become a little muted over time, a little discouraged by the visible scarring on his face and body from his time in the field, but it’s never fully been eradicated. so it was simple, he thought. you paid him attention and stroked his ego, and he preened like a self-obsessed bird of paradise.

and then you started making these little origami whale sharks.

fucking stupid. it bothered him an annoying amount. you had a bunch at your desk, all different colors and sizes, some taped to your desktop monitor, some hung up with little pieces of string under the desk's storage overhang. you drew dots on the back of each one, a distinct spotted pattern that was unique for each shark. and you made them for everyone but him. eijirou bought you a pack of high quality origami paper and you made him his own fucking school, all with little faces, winking or surprised or angry, their wide paper mouths gaping and empty, the lines of their bodies pressed careful and sure.

he hated it. it was annoying and a waste of company time and he usually didn’t ever use dumb corporate slogans like “a waste of company time” but you were really pushing his fucking limits.

it was definitely just the attention he liked, he told himself, because surely someone doing something as dumb as this would annoy him to no fucking end if he spoke to them.

and then he spoke to you and he was wrong.

he asked why you made the damn things in the first place and you told him, “i like whale sharks. but to be totally honest, i just run out of things to do."

and he saw that as a challenge. you were running out of things to do? rest assured he could find more shit for you to take care of. so he did. tasks that he wouldn't wish on his worst enemy, they were so dull and time-consuming. and you were so achingly competent that it drove him up a fucking wall. you completed everything he asked of you in half the time it would take someone else, and you always reported back with a smile, and you always did good work, and he could see himself having a conversation with you about something other than work but he didn't want to try because he was worried he'd begin to like you as a person.

you're pretty. really fucking pretty. he can see that now, and he sure as fuck saw it then. you're hardworking. you're just likeable, and that's something katsuki had never been. it (reluctantly) impressed him. worse than that, it turned his feelings for you into a sort of interest.

but he knows he's not normal when it comes to things like this.

he tried to distance himself from you because of it, but it turns out that asking someone to do work for you means you do have to speak to them sometimes. and sometimes turned into a lot of times.

sometimes turned into bringing him coffee in the morning, not because he asked you to, but because you're sweet like that. sometimes turned into being the person he bounced ideas off of when he had a board meeting coming up or something otherwise boring and meticulous. sometimes turned into you laughing at his prickly comments rather than going quiet because of them. turned into you saying suck it up, dynamight, this is what it means to be the boss when he complained about doing paperwork.

sometimes turned into staying late with him at the office, getting take out for the two of you to share while you finished filing claims and damage reports and other stuff he hated taking care of by himself. sometimes turned into him asking you to stay late just because he wanted you there. because even when he was quiet, you'd tell him about your day, about things that happened in the office, about how much you like the book you'd both been reading. he loved listening to you talk. felt comfortable enough to tell you things about himself when he'd never felt comfortable doing that before.

sometimes turned into you holding out a piece of fried tofu from your take-out container for him to eat while he was approving time-off forms that he should have looked at much earlier that week, and you being so close that he could notice how good you smelled, and the warmth of your body basically radiated towards him, like all your energy was focused on him, and your smile was small but somehow even more lovely than usual, a secret for him to tuck away and keep, and when you finished feeding him and he had a little sauce on the corner of his mouth and you reached forward to wipe it off for him and your hand lingered there for a moment and your eyes fell to his lips and what if you try to kiss me and i'm wrong and you hate me for it and what if i can't give you what you want and what if i'm not actually what you want what if i've disappointed you already what if—

it was too much.

so he fucked it up. your thumb was so soft against his skin. he reeled backwards in his chair, rolling it whole feet clear of you, and he felt the tearing again, the bad kind, like paper unevenly shredded by clumsy hands, and he had to leave. he had to leave. he needed to leave so badly that it felt like pulling his skin off would be preferable to being in that office with you.

hiding in the bathroom was fucking pitiful. he remembered his breathing exercises. he remembered to ground himself. and when he came back to his office, you were gone.

if he was normal—and he wants to be normal, god fucking damn—he could have stomached your proximity. he could have eaten out of your fucking hand. he could have touched you back like a normal person probably would have and he wouldn't be here, alone, looking at a little purple sticky note you left him that says i finished organizing the pto forms. i hope you feel better!

he doesn't know whose pride you're trying to save with that. as if you didn't leave because he made things so fucking awkward by running away from you when you touched him. when you—maybe, if he was reading the room correctly—were about to kiss him.

and you don't speak to him for days. he doesn't want to push so he doesn't—just watches you out of the corner of his eye whenever you're both in the same room, which is arguably worse. he's not sure. he's just itching to fucking talk to you because he misses it.

he misses you. in a more-than-friends way.

it takes a while for him to realize this. when he does, it hits him like a metal rod up the side of the head. it's fucked up of him to miss you the way he does when he doesn't feel like he can provide you with the things a normal person could. and though he's worked on his patience over the years—worked on understanding that he can't have everything he wants—it doesn't stop him from being selfish and finally pulling you aside to talk.

and baffling as fucking ever, the first thing you say is sorry. "i know i should've talked to you about it earlier. i just—i shouldn't have done that. and i know it. i shouldn't have assumed that—i don't know. that you..."

you look helpless. it's one of the very few times that katsuki has ever felt the compulsion to touch someone. not because he wants the touch, per se, but because he wants to be able to provide comfort. he never figured out how to do that with words. he's so focused on his inability to comfort you that he barely has any idea of what you're actually talking about. instead of doing anything at all, he just stands there like a fuckwad.

"i just want you to know that i would never—like never—have touched you, or tried to... if i didn't think there was like, a vibe?" you shake your head, exasperated with yourself. "god, even that sounds so bad. i'm sorry, i just—"

"wait, what are—?" and then it clicks, because he's been slow on the uptake figuring out his shit when he should have been focusing way more on yours. "there was..." katsuki says, and he fucking hates that he can't find better words for what you were both feeling in his office, "a vibe."

the way your face changes when you're flustered is one of katsuki's favorite things, but it's not as enjoyable when he feels just as flustered as you look. "i—oh? so... so you—?"

his ears feel like they're being attacked by two heated straightening irons and he knows they're red as hell right now. he's gonna have to say this plainly even though he'd rather get his teeth pulled out one by one with a pair of pliers. "it's not you."

your expression loses any sort of hope it once held. you press your lips together and sigh, maybe a little exasperated. he's doing his best here but he knows his best is shit. "i can handle a non-cliché rejection," you tell him. "honestly, i'd prefer a non-cliché rejection—"

"i'm not trying to reject you," he says, and it's selfish of him. because he's really not. he isn't comfortable with the things you'd want from him, but he still wants you in some capacity. "i just don't—do shit like that."

"kissing?"

somehow knowing for sure that you did want to kiss him in his office makes him want you more. he likes that you're bold. he likes that you're not ashamed of that. he wants to be different than he is. "any... of it," he struggles to admit.

"at all?"

he nods.

"just—like touching, and stuff?"

it sounds so juvenile that he can't help but laugh through his nose, roll his eyes. "yeah. touching and stuff."

"oh."

you're disappointed. of course you are. it's not like he expected anything different, but—sometimes he fucking hates his life. hates that he can't be the thing people need him to be. hates that trying is so difficult, that it flings his stomach into space, like a throwing stone skipping across a still lake.

"so you don't go on dates, or anything."

"haven't tried."

"do you not want to?" you ask, and he can tell it's more of a genuine question than anything. you're curious about him, like you always are. it's more than he deserves, for all he can offer.

"doesn't make sense to."

"that's not what i asked."

it's not. and so katsuki listens as you ask your question again, and he really takes a moment to think.

considering the answer to your question leads him to his first date with you. and his second, and his third—his fourth, and he's keenly aware that his last fourth date ended with what he expects all dates are supposed to end with.

he takes you to the aquarium. because of all the fucking origami whale sharks. you still haven't given him one and it sticks in his craw like a bone. in front of the backlit tank that holds sharks of all types, shapes and sizes and teeth he's never pictured possible of a living creature before, he asks, "why sharks?"

you look at him, brow raised. "i don't know. they probably needed the biggest tank in the aquarium. and this looks like the biggest tank."

"no, dumbass—your sharks. the ones all over the fuckin' office."

"what, you don't like them?" you ask, but you're smiling, sly.

he shrugs. he thinks they're dumb as hell. he wants one to hang up at work, like the ones you've got hung up at your desk. "they're whatever. they clutter the fuck out of ei's office. and he's already got issues organizing." you've just made eijirou so many at his point, and it's getting ridiculous. "but what—are they easy to make, or something?"

you laugh a little. "no. not at all, actually." a whale shark swims by, its spotted hide shimmering in the tank's eerie blue lighting, and you watch it intently. "but it'd be boring if it was too easy."

this date ends with him walking you home from the aquarium a few blocks from your apartment and you smiling at him and telling him that you had a really great time, and he feels like a fucking freak because you don't even expect more. you don't wait for a kiss. don't look disappointed that he doesn't try to give you one. the way you look at him holds so much affection that he doesn't deserve and he has no idea how to reciprocate it to you, and somehow he lands on, "make me one."

"one what?" you ask, but he thinks you already know what he's asking. you like to play coy. he likes it when you play coy. when you're enjoying yourself.

"one of your little fuckin' paper things," he mutters, because admitting that he wants one of those dumbass sharks feels somehow demeaning. he doesn't want you to know how much he's wanted one. "ei's got a million of 'em."

your hand was on your door handle, but it falls to your side. he's keenly aware of its proximity to him. he doesn't feel that terrible ripping in his gut and its absence is almost frightening to him. your fingers tighten into a fist. it's cold out. "ah, and you're jealous?"

"no," he says, knee-jerk. "i just don't get why everyone gets one but me."

you smile when he says this and he could live in this image of you, delicate and small and made for him. he goes home and thinks about it until he falls asleep. thinks about it even beyond then, feels that strong breeze inside him tearing every leaf from its grounded perch.

here's the thing—nothing against jirou, but unlike his other fourth date, this one was enjoyable. more than. he loved watching you be amazed by the size of the whale sharks, and he loved watching you put a bunch of coins into the penny press and cranking the machine until one was squeezed out into the pattern you wanted, and he loved watching you lay your hand against the glass where the rubbery wings of a flood of stingrays battled for your attention, and—

he loved watching you. that's weird, right? he sounds like a fucking lunatic thinking that.

but he does. he hadn't realized until now how difficult it had been not only to touch people, but to look at them. maintaining eye contact, watching someone do a simple task out of interest instead of staring them down in an attempt to intimidate them. he's so much more fucked up than he thought but what makes it bearable is that he can do it with you. he can watch the way you enjoy things and feel like he's not intruding on something he shouldn't. without even trying, you make him feel welcome—wanted.

that's it. you make him feel wanted.

the realization affects him in a way he doesn't understand. at work the next day, when you smile at him over the top of the front desk, he feels something incredibly strong—something like instinct—that tells him to touch you. small. a thumb brushed across your cheek. his fingers grazing yours. he wants it in a way that can't be right because he's never wanted to touch someone like this.

he doesn't do it, but he thinks about it all day. your little smiles when you notice him watching you on your dates, the way your fingers graze your lips when you cover your laugh, the softness in the way you regard him. you're quiet, reserved, but when you laugh you laugh hard. he wants your soft, your quiet and your loud, he wants the feeling of your fingers on his lips, he wants your smallest smiles, all things he wishes he could fold up and keep and later display somewhere he can always see them. a school of paper fish, gaping mouths and drawn-on spots and such carefully pressed lines.

so on the eleventh date—(he knows it's ridiculous to count, but he's never spent this much time with one person before, not like this)—he reaches for your hand when you're walking alongside the bay, the air turning cold in the wake of the sunset that the two of you had just witnessed. that's romantic, you'd teased when he asked you to watch it with him. he'd rolled his eyes, shrugged you off.

but maybe he wanted it to be romantic. maybe he wanted to make this as normal as possible for you because nothing has been normal between the two of you so far.

you pull back when he reaches for you, as if on instinct. look up at him, confused, when he reaches out again. "katsuki..." you say, and it sounds as if he's done something wrong.

he tries not to let his brain spiral but thoughts drip inwards. water meeting a dented hull. what has he done this time? what else has he fucked up by being fundamentally wrong?

"you know..." you start, and you lose your words.

he thinks of kyoka, years ago. it's okay, you know. to not like it. he wonders if you'll still text him like she does.

your lips pull into a frown before you speak and katsuki can't breathe. "i was never gonna ask on my own because i know you don't like talking about things like this if you don't bring it up. but—um. katsuki—do you think i expect something from you?"

"huh?" he asks, dumb. breathing is still something he fails to do.

"i know that this is—different. i know you have some things going on that make the physical part hard for you." you look up at him so earnestly, and he loves looking at you. he loves looking at you and doesn't want to have to stop and he's worried that this is it. the moment he'll have to stop. you try to smile and it's small and he wants it all for himself. careful. delicate. secret, for him. "i'm not gonna lie to you. i don't know what a relationship without that kind of stuff looks like. but that doesn't mean i'm not willing to find out. it's—i don't need you to try to do something you think i want you to do."

"i'm not."

"it makes me feel a little sick, kat. honestly. it makes me feel like, i don't know—like i'm taking advantage of you, or something—"

"you're not."

"you don't have to do things like that to keep me around." you look flustered, eyes darting from his face to the skyline. "if you want me, i'm—you know."

it's okay, you know. "i don't know."

"i'm yours," you say, and cringe immediately at your words. "or like—i could be, you know, kind of whatever you wanted, if you—if that's what you want. would want."

katsuki can only remember a few times when his head was this quiet in the presence of someone else. when he trusted someone enough to let his mind go blank, to let himself act on instinct. "can i kiss you?"

you sigh. "this is what i was saying. i don't want you to—"

"no," he says, quiet, and he's closer to you than he's ever been. he likes the way you smell. he's not gonna apologize if that's weird. "i just want—god, i feel pathetic asking again. can i just—?"

just, just, just. just a touch, just a kiss, just a moment of your fucking time—it's all he wants. and he's never wanted like this. he's never trusted like this. his head has never quieted entirely because he's so sure that he's not going to disappoint you, or be something you don't actually want, or be wrong.

you've shown him that he can't be wrong with you, regardless of whether or not something within him is broken.

your lips are warm, a little chapped from the dry air, and he tries to remember what kissing chastely is but it's like something breaks in him further the second the two of you touch. his hands are cradling your face, his tongue is gliding against your tongue, his teeth are clacking against your teeth, and he knows the kiss is bad and wrong and messy but he suddenly needs it. he needs to feel you.

you make a noise against him and worry slices into his stomach before he realizes it's a quiet, breathy moan, and maybe you've been okay without the touch but that doesn't mean you don't enjoy it when you receive it. he can tell he hasn't made his boundaries clear enough—your hands circle his wrists, too cautious to go further, too hesitant to grip him like he thinks you want to. like he wants you to want to.

his teeth hit yours again and you laugh, and he pulls back, stomach tight. there's a hope in him that's ready to be torn.

you see it in his face—the fear. "i love kissing you," you blurt out, as if it's the only reassurance you can think of in the moment. "i mean—you're just." you laugh again, and he realizes it's nerves. you're just as nervous as he is. "can i—can we go somewhere warm? and maybe do this more? or—if this was enough—"

he's pulling you towards his apartment before you can get another word out.

kissing you is easy because you make him feel like it's relatively new for you as well. maybe that's how it feels for everyone every time, but he wouldn't know. he just feels comfortable with you. like you're not so much better than him, like you're not waiting to laugh at him when he fucks up, like you're touching him because you really want to.

so he takes you to his apartment and puts you on his couch and kisses you until your back is against the armrest and he's looming over you and you feel comfortable enough that your hands stray from his wrists to his shoulders to his hair and he didn't even know touching someone could feel like this.

put aside the fact that he's nearly finished in his fucking jeans three times just from your fingers running across his back, from the way you cup his cheek when he pulls back for air because he keeps forgetting to breathe—just having you close is intoxicating. he wants to bury his face in the curve of your shoulder, he wants to bite marks into your skin that'll stay vibrant for weeks, he wants to etch himself into you so deeply that he doesn't have to leave. these wants aren't even sexual—it's something about having you be his. i'm yours, you'd told him, and he hadn't even known that it would be exactly what he needed to hear.

he's in love with you, which isn't shocking to him, but he knows he shouldn't be in love with you yet because people that aren't fucked up in the head don't feel shit like this so quickly. he's not gonna tell you this for a very long time, but he knows—so completely and confidently—that he will reach a point when he can tell you.

"you sure you want this?" he asks, breathy, between kisses.

you stop kissing him, brows raised in surprise. "katsuki, we don't... this is a lot for one night. we can take it slow, still."

"that's—i'm not talking about that." he gives in, then—lets himself bury his face in the crook of your neck, lets himself breathe in deep, lets himself find your hands and intertwine your fingers, and you can probably feel that he's hard as fucking metal for you but that's not what's important right now. it sure as hell makes it awkward to try to have a serious conversation, though. "you sure you wanna deal with all... you know. my stuff."

"are you sure you wanna deal with all of my stuff?" you counter, and he pulls back to look at you. kissed rotten and smiling. "of course i want to deal with it. i like you."

and he likes you too. god, he likes you so fucking much.

the next morning, long after you've left for home, he finds a little orange whale shark hidden behind the alarm clock on his bedside table, stars in the place of eyes, and the trace of you is enough to make him feel warm. to hope that over time his apartment becomes full of the little paper creatures until his home is its own aquarium, until everywhere he looks is a memory of all you've brought him—pieces of you, perfectly arranged and delicately folded by your careful hands, much too gentle to tear.

[dragonfly0808]

Hiatus

So… this is a post I’ve been debating with myself these past 2/3 weeks on whether to make or not.

Some of yall may have noticed that I’ve been taking quite a few breaks from s4 and I have unfortunately just finally allowed myself to acknowledge that I’ve hit a bit of a writing block when it comes to my Winx Club rewrite.

I’ve had a few frustrations during s4 (even though I’ve managed to keep my writing up to my own personal standards, it’s been very difficult) and- despite being halfway through the season, unlike past seasons I still have no idea what I’m going to do with s5 and it’s just been getting to me.

And now I am forced to accept that if I keep forcing myself to churn out chapters and stressing out over keeping you all waiting until I’m satisfied with every chapter, the only thing I’ll do is kill my creativity and my love for this rewrite.

I’ve been working on this rewrite for nearly 3 years and it kinda low-key shames me to say that I am officially placing it on hiatus.

To me ‘taking a break’ and ‘hiatus’ are 2 completely different things, I know I’ve taken breaks before but I always had some vague idea of when I’d return but this time… I just don’t know.

I have been working on my Original Novel and works for other fandoms that have just been filling me with inspiration in a way I haven't been able to feel with Winx Club for a bit now.

I hope I have built up enough trust over these past 3 years for you all to believe me when I say that I will be back. I am not the type to leave things unfinished, especially a story that means so much to me and that I am so very proud of and that has helped me grow so much as a writer and has helped me get through some difficult times and express certain emotions and grief in a way I never could’ve if I hadn’t dived into this 3 long years ago.

I was really hoping to post chapters for Xmas and New Years as I have past years but I just can’t- HOWEVER, on January 28th, the third anniversary of Veiled Wings and Shattered Panoramas, I will post… something. I don’t know if it will be a chapter or not but I will do something for the anniversary.

If you wanna know what I’ll be up to; I will be working on my Original Novel since I have finally landed on exactly what idea I want to work on. I will also be working on 2 projects, one for ATLA (Zutara post-canon self-indulgent thingy) and another one that I honestly don’t know if I’ll go through with since it’d be a pretty big project and I’m still thinking about how I’d go about it, but that I am very inspired and excited about.

So yeah, thank you all for your never ending support and- again, I WILL BE BACK, this is not an abandonment of the rewrite, it’s just me having to prioritize my mental health and protect both my love for writing and my love for the rewrite. I’ll be going through my inbox this next week and answer a bunch of stuff that I just haven’t really looked through in a while.

Thank you so much for understanding and for your support. I hope you will wait for the return of the rewrite and that maybe you will give my other projects a chance when I post them. I will be posting a lot of my inner thoughts on the rewrite and my other projects chapters + thoughts on my Ko-fi if you wanna check that out.

I wish you all Happy Holidays!

With eternal love and gratitude,

Yours Truly, Dragonfly

[ducktracy]

today marks 5 years since i officially started my quest to review every single Looney Tunes short ever made, and all the ones in between. when i first started these, i did them as a means to motivate me through watching every LT chronologically--they were kind of haphazard, rambly little pieces where i'd write 5 a day on tumblr, constrained by a 10 photo limit and a lack of knowledge and an inability to take myself seriously. i had NO IDEA that they would blossom into the behemoth that they are today, informing how i even make and regard my OWN cartoon making for TV that maybe someone somewhere is doing their own write-up of, or how my perspective as an animation worker today informs or compares or contrasts against the processes that these guys went through almost a hundred years ago. THANK YOU FOR YOUR CONTINUED SUPPORT!!!! i can't scream it enough--i never really thought anyone would actually read them, much less share or talk about them. i've fully embraced that this will be a mission that takes me over a decade, maybe even more, and as long as these cartoons and Blogger are up, i'm gonna keep going until every last one is reviewed! i know my output has been slower this year due to life, being busy making cartoons, and just the sheer magnitude of effort and time and passion that each review involves, but i'm really, really thankful for your engagement and support. this honestly still is just the beginning--a lot of my personal favorite shorts and some of the most beloved and significant still lie ahead, and i can't wait to get to them! i can't wait to see how my writing gets stronger and my knowledge more full and my passion more plentiful, if that's even possible. whether you've been reading them since the beginning, or you're just now wondering "WHAT REVIEWS ARE SHE TALKING ABOUT??", thank you so much for your engagement and support in this mission. it really has meant the world to me and i'm so thankful for it. i hope you'll continue to support me, as well as treat yourself to some fun cartoons and interesting history!! 🙇

[pansy-picnics]

Not to derail the convo too much but i want to add my own input onto this….it sucks bc there are multiple VERY clear reasons why yong and nuru are both pushed aside, but i feel like everyone is afraid to say the quiet part out loud.

- Nuru is a black girl

- Yong is an asian kid

- nuru and yong werent really pitched as main characters to begin with. Maybe they wouldve been, had the pitch been fully realized, but we can only really make educated guesses based on the little information we have. The entire story was really built around varian and hugo, fundamentally- and yeah, obviously we only have the brief outline, but said outline doesn’t really mention nuru and yong like, at all. Doesnt mention any character arcs for them, any prominent relationships, any development theyd have over the series- not even their reactions to hugos betrayal or their involvement in the final fight. its all just about varian and hugo. We can only ever assume, at any given moment, that theyre just….There. And so thats how everyone writes them- as background characters to varigo.

i dont think its wrong to build a story around one character, i mean kay and anna really just did it for fun and i dont see any problem with that- but when people try to make it into a fully realized story, it doesnt really work because there are basically only two main characters and two guys who are just There. so instead of the VAT7K Fandom we just end up getting The Varigo Fandom. i honestly do think its why so many people come and get hyperfixated on it for a few months and then leave. There just isnt really any content to work with, because there are only 4 characters and people are only fully utilizing two of them.

-Did i mention theyre a black girl and an asian kid next to a yaoi couple featuring White Boy #3567488 and Kind-Of-Racially-Ambiguous-Probably-White Onceler Jr because the implications there are Not Great.

I joke, i love them all, i promise, but it is really something that bothers me a lot, especially since ive been here for so long and i dont really consider myself “in” the fandom enough to like, get super obsessed with any of the characters and make 1000 fics and drawings of them. If anything vat7k is kind of like the tts dlc to me. Im mentally ill about varigo and i love nuru and yong to bits and have SO MANY thoughts about them but they just usually stay in my head because i dont have the energy to expel them in any efficient way LOLOLOL. At the end of the day i consider myself more of a tts fan than anything else.

bc nuru and yong never really had any substance to begin with, people cant usually get super attached to them past a surface level, and it gets REALLY frustrating.

- When it comes to nuru, im like, the whitest girl imaginable so i dont want to talk out of turn here but i do want to mention it bc nobody else seems to be willing to- the way nuru is made into either the mature “mom friend” of the group or the “sassy best friend” is something that makes my blood BOIL, because they both feel SUPER stereotypical considering that shes a 16 year old black girl!!! i’ve talked to my friend, who is black, about it a lot (Id tag him here but hes Not in the fandom so i dont want to drag him into this LMAOAOAO) but weve discussed how black girls are “adultified” by mainstream society and quite literally robbed of their childhood and innocence. they’re treated as “mature for their age” and are expected to act as such…..It makes the way people portray nuru as the “mature one” rlly gross to me 😭. and luckily i dont see that “mom friend nuru” AS often anymore, but when people dont do that, i feel like they kinda just turn her into the “sassy voice of reason” which just feels like a whole black best friend trope to me…..😭 Guh. I think just the best anyone can do is actually make her a fully realized character!!! She feels so one note so often 😭

- And yong…I feel like he so often just gets made to be the Baby of the group and the comic relief (which is DEFINITELY because hes also a fat kid but thats a Wholeee other can of worms (eye twitching)) And like that can be fun sometimes, but also i feel like the main appeal about team radical, at least to ME, is that theyre all just stupid petty teenagers who are unparented and sent on a little coming of age quest and they all probably immediately start beefing with each other like its fucking lord of the flies. Yong is Twelve Years Old guys. Have you ever met a twelve year old? Theyre at that age where theyre like weirdly edgy and think theyre the Shit and that every adult around them is a fucking idiot. Yong has the potential to be soooo fucking funny past just being the cutesy little baby of the group and i feel like people just arent really willing to explore that. And like he can still be the more emotionally open one too! I feel like he starts out a lot more silly and more of that steven universe type hes usually portrayed as, but the longer he spends with the gang he just quickly becomes equally as deranged as them LOL. Id love to see a much more mischievous yong whos sweet but also a Very insecure 12 year old and kind of a shithead. I think it’s such an untapped market.

Idk i dont think that if you just Can’t get attached to nuru or yong that you’re like…Bad or like. racist or whatever Thats not what im saying at all!!! bc i do think that kay and anna for all their amazing work on the pitch did kind of contribute to the problem bc of the way nuru and yong are shown, or, well. not shown in said pitch lol. And i also think that everyone should consider the implications these characterizations have and like…Try and challenge themselves to branch out a little more!! and i also feel like a lot of people who ARE nuru and yong fans already arent very loud in the fandom, cuz like, with how varigo centric the community is i think its just assumed by default that nobody cares….and if thats you i want to encourage you to please PLEASE speak up and make more content about them bc people DO care!!!! it is a niche that so many people are willing to invest in!!! Especially me!!! Please please please please im on my knees plea

Guys I NEED to rant about my thoughts on Nuru because i love her <3 ramblings ahead

Like I feel like in almost every fic i read, she's just like, a side character that's there to make whitty remarks to Hugo and be the levelheaded one. If she has an insecurity or problem it's usually pretty surface level and solved quickly, or only mentioned once or twice. I think there are SO many aspects of her character that are so cool.

Okay first, I think we sometimes forget that she's a nerd just like the rest of the gang. Yes, on the outside she's definetly the most 'normal' one, but I think we should concider the fact that she's the only girl in the group, and she's literal royalty. She was raised with a completely different set of standards than the other three. I don’t think I've really ever seen anyone cover that. I feel like she would get called "mature for her age" when she's only 15/16, and almost always gets critisism when she talks back with her own ideas (like her concerns about the meteor shows for example). I feel like out on her journey, she would finally get the freedom to just be herself, and be a kid and be able to rant on about her intrests with the rest of the group. It could be a struggle at first, but it would be awesome to see her getting more comfortable with the group the longer they spend together! Nerds encouraging nerdy rants lol

Since she is a kingdom figurehead, you could also argue that she always has a lot on her hands (especially since she's very proactive when it comes to science and solving problems). This could bring up a need to be productive, or always feeling like she needs to make the right decision, even for the littlest things.

I also feel like a lot of the time she's potrayed as the "right" one, who is 100% right when it comes to stuff like arguing with Hugo. Since they're opposites when it comes to class, they often are compared through that lense. I think it's cool just having Nuru tell Hugo off for judging a book by its cover, but I feel like they have a lot more in common than they realize. I think it would be interesting to see Nuru judging a book by its cover too. Maybe not to the degree that Hugo does, but I feel like calling out both their judging would not only call out character flaws, but it also enforces that even though they hate eachother and would never want to be like the other, they have a lot of the same flaws.

Also, being sheltered in a palace her whole life, I think she might think kind of black and white sometimes, and while she knows when people are just being mean as an act, she might struggle when it comes to people like reformed criminals.

Maybe she's able to be meaner to Hugo because she justifies it by telling herself he's criminal, and therefore bad, possibly glossing over the reasons he might be like that (maybe it crosses her mind, but she tells herself it's not a good enough reason, because stealing is still stealing, and he literally steals EVERYTHING. Even little trinkets and stuff he definitely doesn't need!). When they find out about Varian's criminal history, maybe she reexamines her views on morality and how she used to see people, because by her standards, Varian is a 'bad guy' who's caused harm to SO many people, but he's also the kind, caring, helpful friend that she's been traveling with who would never willingly hurt anyone.

Moving on to Amber x Nuru, I honestly never find myself liking the ship because Amber isn't developed enough which is fine. I don't think every character has to be a magnificent work of art. Side characters are side characters, but their romance is usually written like: "wow that girl is cute! I have a crush now!" Which is cool, but then that's about as far as it gets, then timeskip! Or offscreen they're a couple now. I know it's a side couple so it won't have as much devlopment as something like Varigo, but I never really see their dynamic play out in different situations. Like I don't know how to explain it, but it feels like they solely exist to be a couple? Amber sometimes just feels like an extention of Nuru, and their relationship feels surface level a lot of the time.

I feel like too often she's just watered down to the nice, smart, grounded friend, and I don't know I just think there’s so much more to explore with her. She’s not just some side character. She's literally part of the main cast! Even in fanart I feel like she doesn't really get a lot of stuff besides funny art and just like, pictures meant to look pretty. Unlike something you get a lot with characters like Varian or Hugo.

And honestly I get it. Some characters you just don't take an intrest in. I know I find Varian, Hugo, and Nuru more relatable than I find Yong, but I feel like part of that is developing their characters rather than just seeing them on a surface level. Ofc there are exceptions and there are some stories that dive deeper into Nuru's character out there! I just happen to see this A LOT.

Wow i said "surface level" a lot didn't I 😭😭

Anyway thank you for reading my rant i wanna know what you guys think!!

[localplaguenurse]

pantalone girl dad headcannons? for ya girl with daddy issues? 🥺🥺🥺

I’ve had this very concept rattling around in my brain for a while, in part because of the brainstorming I did for the discontinued Helina fic. Honestly, if I do ever bring that back (do not hold me to that my beta reader WILL kill me), I think I’d just do the occasional one shot. I guess these will also sort of count as spoilers but again, not writing it, so it’s better to just get it out of my head here. Also, I do have another dad Pantalone one shot from when I first started writing that may be a nice read afterwards.

Okay, that’s my rambling quota for the day. I have headcanons to write!

Notes: Because most of this was from my discontinued dad Pantalone fic, it’s all focused purely on the father-daughter relationship. Other than that, mainly domestic fluff with a few references to Pantalone’s impoverished background.

Pantalone Being a Girl Dad

He never thought he’d be one of those “girl dads.” Not that he wouldn’t love a little girl of his own, but because he found the notion a bit silly. What difference does it make if it’s a little girl instead of a little boy?

In spite of that, the moment she’s placed in his arms and he sees her little face, he is absolutely smitten. She’s this tiny squealing thing with dull eyes and hardly any hair, and already he’s completely wrapped around her tiny wrinkly finger.

(Or technically it’s her tiny wrinkly baby fist wrapped around his finger, but that’s all semantics.)

When his daughter was a little baby, he had to stop wearing his chain so she wouldn’t yank his glasses off his face. He still wore his rings, though he made sure to wear ones that were smooth or didn’t have many stones on the off chance she started gnawing on his fingers while he wasn’t looking. He’d feel awful if she cut her little gums.

Never baby talks to his daughter. He’ll coo and hum and speak softly, but no special baby talk voice. He instead speaks to her like he would anyone else. Those two would have full on (mostly one sides) conversations where his daughter would babble incoherent baby nonsense, and he’d start yapping as if she’s made some brilliant argument.

Having a chatterbox for a father results in two things, the first being that his little girl starts talking before other babies her age, and then other is that she can and often will fall asleep in the middle of him talking to her.

Best bedtime story reader, period.

Her first word was “dada” and the way Pantalone was beaming the rest of the week, you’d think his vast fortune had doubled overnight.

Loves brushing and styling his daughter’s hair. Will braid ribbons into her hair for special occasions, or if she asks nicely and he has the time. 

Whenever she gets a new dress, she makes a big show of spinning around to show off how cute she looks. Pantalone smiles and claps every time, getting a big grin from his little girl.

I headcanon Pantalone has a rather thorough skincare routine, so I like to imagine she joins him before getting ready for bed. She doesn’t need a million lotions, creams and cleansers, goodness no, so instead she just gets a good face wash, brushes her teeth and combs her hair. It’s a good way to get her settled and ready for bed, and it’s good to teach her personal hygiene early in life so she’ll know what to do when she actually needs those cleansers.

(Plus, seeing her father covered in green goo is really funny.)

Because I also headcanon Pantalone as being prone to developing tinea veriscolor, his daughter would also have it, and in that case he rubs some tea tree oil on her skin where it would be most affected, primarily the neck and shoulder areas.

He spoils her, of course, but is very careful not to spoil her rotten. While he’d love to provide his flesh and blood with a childhood he never had– one where there is always a roof over their heads, food on the table, and all the best toys and clothes money can buy– he’s spent too much time around the snotty brats his various partners and clients have (hardly) raised and he is not tolerating that sort of behaviour from his own daughter.

While he certainly buys her the best toys and clothes he can (anything for his little princess), he works to instill a sense of value in such items, the idea that you must take care of your possessions because you may not be able to truly replace them.

He’ll leave repairing any torn or stained clothes to professional tailors, he himself will take to stitching up a ripped teddy bear or doll when his daughter brings them to him. He takes them from her before wiping away the tears in her little eyes.

Unexpected perks to being a father: using your child as an excuse to not talk to that really annoying client who hasn’t taken the seven business proposal rejections as a hint already.

They have actual tea parties. It’s their designated daddy-daughter bonding time where she gets to tell him all about school or her friends or anything remotely interesting.

Yapping is a dominant gene it would appear, though his daughter has also become a rather good listener. She’s also very good at math.

Whenever Pantalone has to travel for work, he will always bring something back for his little girl. Sometimes it’s a new toy or game, or new clothes that match the style of wherever he visits, or new kinds of candy to try. When she’s older, he might even start bringing her along if he’ll be gone for extended periods of time.

He absolutely commissioned a tiny harbinger coat for her. I will not be swayed.

That said, he isn’t always perfect. There will be times where frustration gets the better of him and he snaps at her when she is misbehaving or is pestering him when he needs to focus. The guilt is instantaneous, and gets worse when he sees tears well up in her eyes. He crouches to her level and apologizes, offering a hug as well. She’ll usually take him up on it, though he’ll respect her boundaries if she wants space, even if it does break his heart a little bit.

Sometimes his rough upbringing comes up, and it’s usually in regards to food. He’s definitely had the “when I was your age I had to eat from the trash” or “there are starving children on the streets” talk whenever his daughter was picky about food. Arlecchino happened to be visiting once when he brought it up again, and she had to explain that such talk would give her a complex regarding food.

He’ll try a different approach after that talk. Maybe it’s not so much the food, but rather how it’s prepared that is the issue, or maybe some ingredients can be substituted to create an equally nutritious but more palatable meal?

When she gets sick, he tries not to let his worry show. He knows it’s a cold, he does, and he knows that a little medicine and plenty of rest will help her, but all he can think of are the sickly children he grew up alongside and how horribly ill they were before… never mind that, it’s a cold, she’ll be fine.

At the end of the day, he only wants the absolute best for his daughter. He wants to love her the way he wishes he was loved.

He sometimes doubts if he’s truly doing a good enough job of raising her, wondering if he’s too strict at times or not strict enough, or if he’s providing for her financially but not quite meeting her emotional needs. She’ll never know about those doubts, though. He won’t let her.

Still, he must be doing something right to have such a bright daughter who never forgets to say “please” and “thank you,” who is more excited to hug her dad after a long trip than open the presents he brings her, and always tells her she loves him before she dozes off to sleep.

[polkadotpenguin16]

Subtle Hints

Fills the Only 1 Bed square for @storiesofsvu's Holiday Bingo 2024

Pairing: Sonny Carisi x female reader

Tags: smut (that might be a strong word for this—smut lite?)

Word count: 2K

Beta'd by: @misscharlielulu + @escapingrealtiylovinginsanity

A/N: my Christmas present to you – my first attempt dipping my toes into smut! I’m very much a beginner writing in this genre, and want to improve my skills so I can do my saucy ideas justice. So please bear with me as I’m learning <3

Also posted on AO3

Today was your first holiday spent with Sonny’s family. While you’d already met his parents and sisters individually, this was your first time fully immersed in the Carisi clan. Sonny wasn’t worried about it, but you were irrationally concerned about making a good impression. It was important to you that they thought you were a good match for Sonny. 

His sisters seemed to like you, and his nieces and nephews thought you were pretty cool. But you had a hard time getting a read on his mother. She was cordial, smiling whenever you chatted. But her demeanor seemed guarded, if not a little cold. Definitely not the enthusiasm you’d hoped for. But you were dating her one and only son, her baby boy, so her trepidation was not unexpected.

It was getting dark outside, and the snow was falling much harder than forecasted. Because of the late hour and the unfavorable weather, Sonny’s parents offered to let everyone stay at their house for the night. When Mrs. Carisi divvied up the rooms amongst all the guests, somehow, the only one left for you and Sonny was Gina and Bella’s childhood bedroom. Which you wouldn’t have minded, except for one thing…

Gina and Bella had shared bunk beds.

Mrs. Carisi tried to play innocent. “What do you want me to do? It’s the only bed left. You wanna sleep in the closet?” But you strongly suspected this was her not so subtle way of hinting that she didn’t want any out-of-wedlock shenanigans happening under her roof.

You and Sonny entered the bedroom, dumbfounded how you found yourself in this situation. The walls were covered in pastel floral wallpaper that reminded you of the 80s. Next to the closet sat a well-worn oak dresser with scuffs along the side—probably from having the closet door slammed into it. The window was adorned with pink striped curtains that appeared to have been homemade, perhaps by Mrs. Carisi. And at the back of the room stood the dreaded set of bunk beds. 

The closer you got, the smaller the beds seemed. 

“You have got to be kidding me.” Sonny rubbed the back of his neck nervously. He’d like to say he was surprised, but this honestly wasn’t even the craziest of his mother’s antics. “I, uh, I could go talk to Ma…” he trailed off as he glanced at you hesitantly, looking for you to tell him what to do next.

You thought about it for a split second, but the defeated look on his face told you that Sonny didn’t want to fight with his mom tonight. “No, it’s fine. It’s just for one night, anyways.” As utterly silly as this was, you were still worried about making a good impression with his mother. You thought there was the slightest chance you’d earn her respect if you went along with this madness.

Relief washed over Sonny’s face. He made a mental note to thank God at Mass tomorrow for blessing him with such an understanding girlfriend. He looked back at the bunk beds, reminded of the uncomfortable night ahead of him. With a deep sigh, he accepted his fate. “Okay, roomie, which bunk do you want?”

“Which would you be more comfortable in?” You wanted to be mindful of his size. You weren’t necessarily tiny, but certainly smaller than him.

His eyes darted between you and the beds before gesturing to his lengthy frame. “Babe, it’s not gonna make a difference.”

“Well…” A wicked smirk crept onto your lips. “I’ve never slept in a bunk bed before.” You mischievously climbed up the ladder to claim the top bunk as yours.

Sonny rolled his eyes, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t charmed by your childish spirit. “Alright, doll, you can be on top tonight.” You glared at his immature joke, but desperately tried to suppress the warmth rising in your cheeks. “Why don’t you get down from there so we can get ready for bed?”

Sonny stripped down to his boxers and undershirt, offering you his dress shirt to sleep in. He had worn his blue and white polka dot one, which was your favorite on him. You shamelessly held the shirt to your face. Breathing in its musky scent, enjoying the warmth still clinging to the fabric.

While getting ready, you turned to see Sonny struggling as he tried to squish himself into the bedframe. He regretted he hadn’t taken you up on that offer to join your yoga class. He bonked his head against the wall and jammed his knee into the bedpost. Too exhausted to be fighting a literal piece of furniture, he resigned himself to sticking his feet off the edge and resting his arm on the floor.

Swallowing your giggles, you tiptoed to the bed, kneeling to look at a very defeated Sonny. “Are you going to be okay down here?” You had to whisper otherwise you’d bust out into a cackle.

“Oh, yeah, just like a five-star hotel.” At least he was able to fit his sense of humor in there.

You exchanged “I love yous” and a quick kiss, then you climbed up to your own bunk. It took a minute of tossing and turning, but you found a comfortable position for the night.

Fifteen minutes later, you were on the edge of sleep when you heard Sonny let out a disgruntled groan. The bed started to shift. Before you knew it, Sonny was up the ladder, crawling into your bunk.

“No, no, Sonny! What’re you doing?” You quietly tried to shoo him, afraid he’d break the bed. Ignoring your protests he tried to squeeze in beside you.

“Doll, it’s cold down there,” he whined. You knew that was a lie. Sonny, true to his name, radiated heat like the sun. He was never cold.

You playfully tilted your head and raised your eyebrow. “You sure you weren’t just lonely?”.

Sonny was grateful the darkness hid his boyish blush. It was an awkward dance trying to get you both to fit. Giggles erupted as your legs and arms tangled together. Eventually, Sonny pulled you on top of him, wrapping his arms around your waist. You curled up under his chin, finally settling.

You tried to fall asleep but were distracted by the gently snoring man beneath you. You felt enveloped by his warmth, intoxicated by the smell of his cologne. You knew this was quite possibly the worst time and place to be horny, but you couldn’t ignore the heat growing in your belly. You needed to relieve the tension, so you slowly ground into Sonny.

You felt a groan reverberate in his chest. “Doll, whatcha doin’?” His voice was low, thick with sleep.

“Well, you were complaining about being cold.” You ground your hips harder into his, hoping he would get the message.

Sonny’s laugh was cut off by a wanton moan. He slowly tightened his hands around your hips. You felt him growing hard beneath you.

Your message was clearly received.

He gently flipped you onto your back. “You're gonna be the death of me, ya know that...possibly literally.” He looked over the side of the bed, gauging how far the ground was.

He knew this was a bad idea. But you were so effortlessly beautiful laid out beneath him, wearing nothing but panties and his shirt. His desire for you had been building all night. Watching you blend in so easily with his crazy family, strutting around in your green party dress. He’d barely been able to keep his hands to himself. Now, hovering above you, his resolve was quickly slipping away. Your skin was soft under his fingertips, and he could smell remnants of your gingerbread perfume. You felt like the perfect Christmas present—handpicked just for him, waiting to be unwrapped. How could he resist?

He pulled you into a searing kiss. You kissed him back with the same intensity, rubbing your hands up and down his back. You moaned into his mouth, louder than you’d intended. Sonny shushed you, reminding you that you had to be quiet. You carefully peeled Sonny out of his undershirt. A goofy smile spread onto his face as he watched you struggle against the fabric. He realized how juvenile this was, but he was enjoying every minute of it. He looked deeply into your eyes, feeling the closeness he’d been desperately craving the whole evening.

He balanced himself on his forearms, wanting to make you as comfortable as possible. He hiked up your shirt just enough to gain access to your chest. He gently massaged your sensitive breast. His calloused fingers dragged gently against your skin and across your nipple, making it harden beneath his touch. You gasped as you arched your back to meet his hand. The whimpers coming from your throat were nothing compared to Sonny’s.

He enjoyed giving you pleasure infinitely more than receiving it.

He tried to ignore the burning in his shoulders. But suddenly his muscles gave out, throwing him off balance. Making a split-second decision to avoid collapsing on top of you, he tumbled over the side of the bed. He landed with a comical thud that echoed throughout the silent room.

“Sonny!” you whisper yelled, as if you hadn’t just awakened the entire house with your raunchy escapades. You quickly climbed down to check on Sonny where he lay groaning on the floor. “Are you okay? Is anything broken?”

He propped himself up on his elbows, taking stock of his body. “Besides my pride?” Wincing as he rubbed the back of his head. “I think I’ll live.” You kissed his forehead. Thankfully, the bed hadn’t been that tall, so a serious injury was unlikely.

As you sat on the floor looking up at the bunk beds, a thought popped into your head. “Hey, Sonny?”

“Yeah?”

“Why didn’t we just put the mattress on the floor?”

Sonny’s face went blank at the realization. He closed his eyes and pursed his lips tightly. He groaned in frustration as he laid his head back on the floor, and you busted out into a fit of giggles. You pulled the mattresses off the bunks and lined them up next to each other on the floor. You couldn’t help but feel incredibly stupid that you hadn’t thought of this in the first place.

Well, hindsight is 20/20…or about 5 feet off the floor.

You cuddled up under the blankets, much cozier on the floor than in the beds. Sonny’s eyebrows were laced together deep in thought.

“You doing alright, sunshine?” You brushed the hair away that had fallen into his eyes.

His face relaxed under your touch. “Yeah, I’m just wondering why I couldn’t be the favorite child.” You shook your head in amusement, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “Bella would never have been asked to share a bunk bed.”

You scooched in close to teasingly whisper in his ear, “That’s because Tommy popped the question.”

Sonny threw his head back and laughed so hard, you worried it would wake up the house yet again. “Ya trying to tell me something, doll?”

“All I’m saying is maybe some new jewelry could get us better accommodations next year.” You wiggled the fingers of your left hand.

He took your hand and lovingly kissed each of your fingers, pausing before your ring finger. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

You snuggled deeper under the covers, happily entangled together. You closed your eyes, playing back the evening’s events in your mind. It was certainly a night you wouldn’t soon forget. You wondered how big the lump on Sonny’s head would be. Or if maybe you’d be engaged by next Christmas…

And how to explain all of this to his mother in the morning.

[anbaisai]

Finally had time to sit down and write, but honestly there’s not much to be said other than thank you to everyone who wrote a message on my tree! I really enjoyed reading every single message and screenshotting to save them into a folder for when I need a lil boost ww (including one from Mr. Viper himself above that got a laugh out of me, thanks Jamil really appreciate you thinking I’m cool)

Some sappiness under the cut:

I never expected to receive this much support for my silly yume/oc ship content when I began posting, and I really don’t have the words to express how grateful I am. I’ve met many wonderful people through this fandom, and also just had lots of fun in general making art. I mean it when I say I genuinely never had this much motivation and inspiration to create for any fandom (or original content) in the past. There was a long, long period in my life during which trying to find even a crumb of motivation to draw felt impossible. There was always some reason that I couldn’t - be it school/life being too busy, feeling too tired, having other stuff to do first, etc. I thought I’d never rediscover my love and passion for art, until I finally pushed myself to design my Yuu for real (instead of just thinking about it) and then everything just snowballed from there. (For context, I began playing TWST in 2020 and, despite being very much in love with it, only began drawing anything for it this year.)

I have such a massive list of ideas that I still want to draw (plus several asks that I want to answer that I just haven’t had the time to yet), so I’m certainly going to be kept busy for a while. After previously making every excuse possible for not drawing, I’ve learned that yeah, once you really love something you will squeeze time out for it no matter how hard things get, because it kills you not to. All those times when I wondered when I’d ever be able to draw as much as my favourite artists now feel like a distant relic of the past, and I have Twisted Wonderland (especially Jamil) and this community to thank for it. If anyone reading this is going through something similar, I promise it gets better - you will need to put in the effort to make it start, but you will get there.

There’s also my past experiences of being in fandoms that, well, did not welcome yume/self-shipping type content. If I so much as thought of creating any, the fear of being ridiculed would make me back away from the idea immediately. I’m glad to see that sentiment seems to be no longer the norm, but also the TWST fandom has been one of the most supportive of yume content I’ve ever seen. To everyone wanting to participate but has been hesitating, you absolutely should! My only regret is not starting sooner, seriously. In a sense I feel like I'm fulfilling a childhood dream of mine, and all of my past hesitation and anxiety just dissipated once... as cringe as it sounds - once love took over. So go pour your love and passion into that character you adore, they deserve it.

Anyways, wishing everyone a happy holidays and happy new year! Here’s to another year of enjoying TWST and creating for the things we love ❤

[uceyliyahh]

SOMETHING BOUT’ US

Summary: "I want you more than anything in my life." After being in a difficult relationship with Carmelo Yasmine decided to move on from him and become the next big thing while getting drafted on the smackdown roster she always thought she would never find love again due to her commitment issues until she met him.

This fanfic is 18+! NO MINORS ALLOWED

word count: 3533

smut warning; it’ll come in the story randomly so PLEASE PLEASE look out for it I’m not really good at writing ✍�� smuts but I’m improving at the moment.

Jey Uso x Yasmine

AWFUL GRAMMAR IM GETTING BETTER I SWEAR LOL.

comments, likes, repost are appreciated I would love the constructive feedback in what area I need to approve in. 🤍

ALSO! I don’t not want nobody stealing my fanfics or take it as theirs that will be an issue fasho so keep it cute respectfully.

I only own my OC along with the make up scenarios

But I’ll be writing along the way since this story is in my drafts on Wattpad right now so yuh. 💁🏽‍♀️

TAGS ⬇️ lmk if you wanna be tag 🏷️@pinkwithhearts @420days @jstarr86 @empressdede @angiedawn02 @biancasreign

@bebesobrielo @skyesthebomb @aikosilo @papireigns-05 @punksyeet @paigereeder @magnificentbouquetmusic

@hunnidmilly @celesteheartsjey @charmed-dreamssss @fearlesschimera @partypoison00 @mselenalovebug @bloodlinesbabe93 @justazzi @xbriexx

11.

YASMINE  At ten in the morning, the sun streamed through the curtains, gently waking me. As I opened my eyes, I found myself nestled on his chest. I looked up to see him sleeping soundly, the soft sound of his snores filling the air.

I carefully slipped out of his hold, rising from the bed and making my way to the bathroom for a refreshing shower.

 A wave of relief washed over me as the warm water enveloped my body. Memories of the events from last night with Jey flooded my mind, and I couldn't help but notice how much he had transformed since our last encounter.

A refreshing breeze swept through, breaking my train of thought as I suddenly felt two powerful arms encircle my waist.

"Morning Beautiful, I figured you'd be in here," Jey said as I turned my body around to face him.

I smiled at him pecking him on the lips before speaking, "well where else would I be?" I said.

"I see you got jokes little girl," He joked while he pecked my lips.

As we shared a laugh in the shower, I felt a sense of joy wash over me. Once we finished, I headed downstairs to whip up something delicious for us. I started preparing our favorite dish, a special treat I always made when he stayed over during my time with Bianca and Montez.

As I was doing that I heard footsteps coming down the steps when I turned my head there he was coming down the steps looking all good without no shirt on only in his previous clothes that he had on.

As our eyes met, he flashed her a playful wink before stepping into the living room. At that moment, her phone buzzed, revealing a call from Bianca.

OTP Breezy🫶🏽: Good morning girlfriend! How you feeling? Minnie🧃: I'm doing well actually B hbu? Breezy🫶🏽: I'm just trying to get through this damn hangover idk how your head isn't banging right now Minnie🧃: girl I drank some green tea and called it a day honestly Breezy🫶🏽: really? Or Is it because Jey spent the night? Minnie🧃: girl no it's not because of that but he is here though Breezy🫶🏽: so what's the deal between you two now? Minnie🧃: we are taking things slow this time around Breezy🫶🏽: I hope because you now how your brother is after everything that happened Minnie🧃: yeah I know B I know

While I prepared our breakfast, I felt his gentle kisses on my neck, even as he chatted with Bianca on the phone, making me giggle with delight.

"Joshhh knocked it off," I whined out of annoyance.

Breezy🫶🏽: I think that's my cue to hang up the phone don't wanna hear talk two fucking Minnie🧃: bitch whatever we ain't finna be doing allat Breezy🫶🏽: yeah, yeah I'll see yall at work then.

CALLED ENDED.

I spun around and playfully jabbed Jey in the chest. "Wow, I almost forgot just how irritating you can be," I remarked as I switched off the stove.

"But, yo' ass love it though don't wanna hear no complaints mama," He retorted while grabbing our plates as I followed him into the living room.

We gathered around the table to enjoy our breakfast together, indulging in a delightful spread of scrambled eggs, cinnamon toast, and crispy bacon—one of our all-time favorites.

He appeared to be savoring every bite of the food, as if it were the final meal he would ever enjoy, completely lost in the moment.

"You know how to throw it down girl,"

"Just wait until I cook you dinner one day you'll want to marry me at that point," I joked as I continued to eat my breakfast.

✧˚° While preparing for my interview with Cathy, I found myself at work, sitting in the makeup chair. It was a moment of anticipation, and I couldn't help but feel a sense of longing for everyone here during my brief absence.

I couldn't help but smile when I heard Tiffany calling my name; she truly is my girl.

"Minnie! Girl I've missed you so much!" She exclaimed as she gave me hugged.

"I missed you too girly, what's been happening since I've been gone?" I asked her as she gave me the run down of what's been happening lately.

It seems that Liv has been acting as if she's in charge, claiming to everyone that she and Jey are still happily together, all while she's currently involved with Dominick.

Last night, when Jey shared the message he exchanged with Liv, it was clear he was standing up for me in a way that no one else ever has.

I couldn't believe that she would be this delusional after using him for some money is crazy at that.

"What? She was using him for money? He should've been with you then instead of her," She said.

"Yeah, but things happened but me and him are taking things slow now because I felt we were moving way too quickly with it then shit it the fan afterwards so," I replied as Ms Kim was almost done with my makeup.

"I totally understand hundred percent, how do you feel about your interview with Cathy?"

If I was being honest with myself I am nervous about it since it's been a minute since I've done one of these things before my accident.

"I feel a bit nervous not even going to hold you, but I know I'll push through it," I said as she nodded her head.

"Well I'm going to go now girly I'll see you later!" Tiffany said as she left.

Once she departed, my makeup was complete, and Kim handed me the mirror. I couldn't believe how great I looked! I expressed my gratitude with a heartfelt hug.

Ms. Kim has been my personal makeup artist and stylist, consistently delivering outstanding results. Every time, she enhances my look perfectly. As I made my way to Montez's locker room, I unexpectedly ran into Melo.

I expressed my apologies, but before I could take a step back, he seized my arm and forcefully pressed me against the wall.

"The fuck Melo! Let go of me!" I shouted as he clamped his hand around my mouth.

"You're trying to cost me my fucking job! over something that happened months ago!" Carmelo shouted as he gave me a stern look on his face.

"I heard you and ol' boy are back together again didn't you call him yo' bestie? And then he went off to cheat on you with Liv Morgan?"

"When I should've been had you in my arms again princess," I bit him in his hand while slapping him in the face.

 "That's behind us now, Melo. I can see the changes in him, and I know he's eager to show me he's different. But as for you, yes, I'm the reason you're losing your job. You should have considered the consequences before you violated me, you monster!" I spat, shoving him forcefully, making him stagger backward.

I was caught off guard, feeling vulnerable, when a deep, raspy voice broke the tension behind us. Turning around, I was relieved to see Jey standing there, arms crossed over his chest, ready to intervene.

"Do we have a problem here?" He questioned.

Carmelo glanced at me before turning his gaze back to Jey, his expression filled with disbelief as he struggled to comprehend the scene unfolding before him.

"His dick can't be that good Minks for you to be this stupid for him he literally cheated on you! And I know as a man he'll do it again," Carmelo remarked as Jey walked up on him grabbing him by the neck.

"Yeah, my dick be all in her shit, screaming my name unlike yo' ass harassing her and I'm standing on what I said I've changed," I stood there watching what was unfolding right now and damn he looked so fine defending me in his honor.

I approached him, gripping his strong arms and urging him to stop, insisting that Melo wasn't worth the trouble. Jey glanced at me, then shifted his gaze back to him, ultimately deciding to release his hold.

Carmelo gasped for breath, clutching his neck as he realized Jey had nearly strangled him.

"Our conversation isn't over Yasmine I promise you that," that's all he said before walking away from us.

Jey stood in front of me, his hands gripping my hips as he gently massaged the sides of my waist with his thumbs.

"You good baby?" Jey asked as he looked into my eyes with concern written all over his face.

"Yeah, I'm good hon I just fucking hate him honestly," I said as Jey nodded his head.

"Is he always like this whenever you're by yourself?" I acknowledged with a nod, indicating that Carmelo had been acting this way ever since our breakup, particularly after the way he treated me.

I shared with him all the intricate details of my past relationship with Melo, including the moments we cherished and the painful truth of his infidelity with a girl who was on the same roster as us while I was in NXT.

Jey clearly felt remorse for cheating on me with Liv, even though we weren't officially together.

"Fix your face nigga, it was in the past let's just worry about now okay?" I said as he raised an eyebrow at my remark.

"You might wanna fix that tone of yours little girl, telling me to fix my face and shit," He retorted as his hand smack my ass cheek causing me to hiss.

I couldn't help but roll my eyes at him as I turned to walk away, his laughter following me. Honestly, he was just so infuriating.

As I made my way toward Cathy, I noticed the bright smile lighting up her face as she spotted me. When I reached her, we embraced warmly, sharing a moment of joy together.

"Oh my gosh it's been so long girl, how are you doing?" She said softly.

"I'm doing well better than I was before I tell you that honestly," I said.

"How are things going between you and...Jey?"

"We are doing fine, taking things slow but this time it's different," Cathy nodded her head as the camera man was coming towards us as we prepared for this interview that I had.

✧˚° Following my conversation with Cathy, I informed Jey that I would be in his locker room to support him during his match against Carmelo for the IC championship. While I was there, I suddenly heard someone calling my name.

I spun around and spotted Liv standing behind me with her new boyfriend, Dominick, which made me let out a frustrated groan.

"I guess you aren't dead after all Yasmine," She said while holding the title that I had to let go after my car accident.

"Girl, what yo' ass want?" I questioned her while folding my arms.

"I just wanted to see what you and Jey been doing together that's all," she was weird as fuck for thinking something like that I'll say.

I scoffed while placing my hands on my hips, "girl you have a whole man right there and you're worried about what me and Jey have going on right now?" I retorted.

Her laugh, which I found incredibly irritating, was completely ruining the atmosphere. I just couldn't grasp what was so amusing.

"I was just trying to figure out why is with a girl that was so broken and mentally unstable? Right daddy Dom?" She remarked which didn't get to me.

"It's hard to believe that you're still playing the gold digger game. I can't fathom how Dom is managing to date both you and Tiffany simultaneously—maybe it's some sort of polyamorous situation? Regardless, if you're finished with your chatter, I need to head over to my man's locker room to catch his match."  With that, I playfully stuck my tongue out at them and made my way to Jey's locker room.

I stepped into his locker room, carefully closing the door behind me. Taking a seat on the couch, I directed my focus to the television.

I spotted him dressed to impress, sporting his Yeet glasses and looking sharp with the IC belt cinched around his waist. It was clear to me that he would soon need to defend that title against Melo.

While I was engrossed in the match, I felt my phone buzz. When I checked it, I discovered a message from Trinity.

Trin🤭🫶🏽 sent a message.

IMESSAGE 💬 Trin🤭🫶🏽: Hey baby girl! Minnie🧃: Heyyy Trin boo what's up? Trin🤭🫶🏽: I was checking in on you a little birdie told me that you and Jey got back together? Minnie🧃: girl you knew that we were getting back together Trin🤭🫶🏽: I mean did I? Minnie🧃: girl bye whatever Trin🤭🫶🏽: lol 😭😭 but how are yall honestly Minnie🧃: honestly we are taking things differently this time unlike last time. Trin🤭🫶🏽: oh yeah? Is he still talking to that hoe Liv Minnie🧃: no he told me that he broke up with her because she was using him for his money and fuck around with Dom, I thought Jon told you this? Trin🤭🫶🏽: oh wait I think he did shi ion remember but wya? Minnie🧃: in Jey's locker room watching his match Trin🤭🫶🏽: when is Paul going to let you get your title back from that hoe Liv? Minnie🧃: I don't know Trin honestly he still wants me to recover until it's time. Trin🤭🫶🏽: that's understandable Minnie🧃: yeah so I'll be doing that while your brother in law is in Trin🤭🫶🏽: if you finish that sentence i will block yo' ass Yasmine 😭😭😭 Minnie🧃: my fault my fault but I'll ttyl aight? Trin🤭🫶🏽: okay girlfriend ttyl

I set my phone down beside me on the couch and turned my attention to the TV, where Jey was executing a powerful Samoan drop on Carmelo. Watching him dominate the match was absolutely thrilling; I couldn't get enough of seeing him take control and deliver such an impressive performance.

Jey eventually held onto his title as the crowd joyfully sang along to his song, and I couldn't help but feel genuinely happy for him.

While I waited for him to arrive at his locker room, I started watching some YouTube videos to pass the time and keep myself entertained until he showed up.

I received a text message from Carmelo while I was engaged in that activity.

Bum🙄 sent a message.

IMESSAGE 💬 Bum🙄: I fucking hate you Yasmine🩵: yeah, I hate you too now leave me alone Bum🙄: remember what I said about our conversation not being over? Yasmine🩵: to bad I got things to do Bum🙄: YASMINE!

I couldn't help but roll my eyes at his message as I heard the door creak open, revealing a strikingly fit Samoan man stepping into the locker room, glistening with sweat.

He hadn't noticed me until his gaze caught my purse, prompting him to turn his head and flash a smile in my direction.

He approached me, standing directly in front of me with his belt draped over his shoulders.

"Are you really just going to stay there, or are you going to come over and give me a kiss, little girl?" he inquired, prompting me to roll my eyes in response.

 "By calling me that, you've definitely lost your chance for any kisses from me," I remarked, crossing my arms defiantly.

He arched an eyebrow at me, a smirk creeping onto his lips. "Oh, you think you can wager on that?" Confusion washed over me as he quickly pulled me onto his lap, securing me in place while facing him.

I instinctively draped my arms around his neck as his hands glided down to my hips, drawing me in even tighter.

"Are you really going to give me a kiss?" he inquired. I laughed softly, leaning in to plant a quick kiss on his lips before gently pulling back.

He didn't appear to be pleased with my kiss, so I instinctively understood what he desired. I took hold of his face with my delicate hands and drew him in for a fervent kiss, even though he was all sweaty.

Our tongues intertwined playfully, and my fingers glided through his mullet, making me forget everything else.

We momentarily separated, taking a breath as we gazed deeply into one another's eyes.

"Damn, mamas you be making me go crazy for you baby,"

"Yeah? I know I do that's why you can't let me go,"

"You ain't slipping away from me this time little mama you mine forever," that made me smile as me and him went back to making out with each other.

✧˚° OMNISCIENT Yasmine finally arrived home after a tiring day at work. She set her bag down on the floor and kicked off her shoes, placing them neatly on the shoe rack beside her.

 She made the choice to go upstairs for a quick shower, eager to settle in and enjoy her show on Netflix. As the warm water cascaded over her, Yasmine experienced a wave of relief, her thoughts drifting to what Carmelo had done to her.

She hoped fervently that Paul would dismiss him from his position, allowing her to escape his presence for good. It wasn't that she wished for a court battle; she simply wanted him out of her life entirely.

After finishing her shower, she wrapped a towel around herself and stepped out of the bathroom. Noticing that Jey had called her, she opted to FaceTime him instead.

FACETIME Joshua🤍: there yo' ass is I was literally calling you Yasmine🩵: a nigga can't take a shower? Without yo' ass panicking? Joshua🤍: sometimes I can't stand yo' smart ass remarks Yasmine🩵: yeah, yeah whatever nigga you know you love it.

Yasmine set the phone on the dresser, ensuring he had a clear view of her. As she slowly unwrapped the towel from her body, she noticed his breath hitching, a sign of his growing unease at the sight before him.

He found himself captivated by her figure from head to toe, completely lost in the moment until his brother's shout snapped him back to reality, redirecting his attention to the game.

Joshua🤍: my fault Uce I got distracted let's get back on track Yasmine🩵: I wonder who did that hm?

Jey cast a sharp look in her direction, a silent warning in his eyes, while she responded with an innocent smile, casually slipping into her cozy nightwear.

As he immersed himself in the game, Yasmine took the opportunity to snatch her phone. She positioned it on a nearby pillow, ensuring that Jey had a clear view of her screen.

Yasmine🩵: do you wanna sleep on the phone? Joshua🤍: why don't I just come over and spend the night instead? Yasmine🩵: you already did that Joshh and I'm about to watch my show Joshua🤍: aight mama we can stay on the phone Yasmine🩵: yay now hush so I can watch my show. Joshua🤍: mmcht mane whatever shawty.

Yasmine settled in with a snack, eagerly tuning into the new season of Bridgerton. She was completely captivated by the show, finding herself utterly enchanted by its charm and drama.

As she went about her task, Yasmine couldn't help but hear Jey shouting and swearing at his brother, urging him to lend a hand. The commotion made her chuckle at his frustration.

Joshua🤍: girl whats so funny huh? Yasmine🩵: you, your funny being upset about dying Joshua🤍: oh so that's funny to you? Would it be funny if I just came over there and blow that back out?

She fell silent for a moment while Jey chuckled at her.

Joshua🤍: that's what I thought Yasmine🩵: nigga fuck you respectfully I hope yo' ass keep dying. Joshua🤍: oh yeah? Bet Yasmine🩵: bet

He abruptly ended the FaceTime call, causing a moment of concern as she attempted to reach him again, but he didn't answer. She found herself hoping fervently that he wasn't on his way to her apartment.

She had reached a point where she felt indifferent, fully engrossed in her show and enjoying the tranquility it brought her.

After two hours into the show, Yasmine was startled by the booming music from outside, which abruptly ceased when she heard a knock at the door. Curiously, she peered out her window and spotted Jey waiting at her doorstep.

She couldn't shake the thought, 'Did he really just show up like this?' As she approached the door and swung it open, she found him standing there, engrossed in his phone, only to look up and meet her gaze.

"Nigga what you doing here?" She questioned him.

"Don't stand there and question me little girl, take them fucking clothes off since you wanna talk hella shit," Jey demanded as Yasmine gave him a stern look like he was crazy.

"If this is over about the game and what I said you can miss me with that bullshit Josh," She rolled her eyes at him while walking away from the door going upstairs.

He swiftly grabbed her before she could reach her bedroom door, lifting her effortlessly and carrying her inside, where he gently pinned her down on the bed.

Jey positioned himself between her legs, securing them around his waist.

"You thought I was playing?" Jey said.

"I wasn't expecting you to come over Josh,"

"Well here I am in the flesh, now take this off for me baby so I can wore that ass out hm?" She did what she was told to do and he got to work blowing her back out.

 As she cried out his name at the top of her lungs, it was likely that her neighbors could hear her being consumed by this man.

It was going to be a long night for Yasmine.

SomeThing Bout' Us.

A/n: I cannot stand them two honestly but I have been so weak today bro I hate being on damn cycle it's annoying 🥲

But I hope yall enjoyed this chapter lmk in the comments below.

STAY UCEY

[kindred-spirit-93]

back from the dead (snort)

--

WAIT WAIT ARE YOU TELLING ME DEMETER HAS AN EPITHET REFERENCING VENGENFUL FURIES?! WAHT??? >:D!?!

asdfghjkl thank you! really glad u like her lol shes becoming my favouritest to doodle lol. also not at all! i really love that you kept the aspect of her grief that so many are keen to twist to villainise her or erase completely to invalidate her. both are awful imo

heres a quote from le ask (soon i promise 😭😂): "Demeter and Persephone share a strong bond compared to the other gods. After Persephones "death" Demeter was never really the same. Demeter relives the painful cycle annually, and carries a deep rooted bitterness toward the other gods for it."

--

i actually think its hilarious and awesome to see that demeter can be herself with those shes close with (one of my favourite things in characterisations is when you have what seems to be a stern and serious presenting person breaking character at a dumb or inappropriate joke or something to that affect, it kills me everytime its so funny!)

anyway demeter is NOT not be confused with gaia (my girl knows how to have fun lol). but much like the rest of us shes got issues to work with and experiences to heal and grow from *finger guns*. 10/10 i think u did her justice. so much so i drew this for u hehe

under no cicumstances should she meet micheal scott lmao. humanity will never hear the end of "thats what _ said" jokes. ever.

her hair is lime green btw the light is making her blonde :/

[britneyshakespeare]

Had the extremely upsetting experience of a mutual of like 6 years going off on me for occasionally making posts about supporting Harris because apparently that makes me a g n cide denier who refuses to learn and grow, with all of my views just being assumed not even from what I've told them I believe or what I've posted before, but just because I DON'T post particularly the kind of things they THINK I should be. When I pointed out how much they were just completely assuming about stuff I'd never talked to them about, I was told it doesn't matter what I do in real life or "care" about if I simply disagree with their conclusion and vote for her anyway. Like they were absolutely not sorry for the level of maliciousness they not just assumed of my character, but for some reason thought appropriate to bring directly to me before unfollowing me. No apology whatsoever for how discomforting or upsetting that might be and certainly no acknowledgment that I could disagree with them and still be a good person. I just got another even longer rant about how they fundamentally can't fuck with me because of this one thing, no matter WHAT else I do in my real life (which I pointed out that they do not know), and how I'm directly supporting fascism.

Like seriously what is it about Tumblr that makes people think they know someone based off of occasional posts? There were just such DEEP assumptions they were making of me and going off of very little or absolutely nothing. Around the time I first became mutuals with that person I used to express my personality and beliefs and talk about what was going on in my life a lot more openly, but I've significantly scaled back on doing that in many ways for many reasons. One of my major ones is privacy and the way I've had strangers outside my followers and following circles just find random things I say and dogpile me for it. I was fundamentally changed after some T Fs did that to me like 3 years ago. I also just didn't have many conversations w that person anymore (I message people in general on here like 10x less than I did circa 2018-2019, which I'm somewhat sorry about!). My point is to say I think this person felt comfortable assuming that they knew me, especially who I am in 2024 at the age of 25, much better than they actually did.

One of the specific things they accused me of was being afraid of learning and growing (because I don't perform social media activism on here like they think I should). Like AFRAID to take criticism. When again I've never received criticism from them or had to respond to any criticism on here before as pertaining to my views on... well, absolutely any of the issues they accused me of not caring about. They essentially treated it as if the only thing in the world I cared about was the US election and characterized me as the most out-of-touch liberal they could possibly imagine, because I'm not "pushing" Kamala Harris to be better (Oh?? Should I do that on here?? Does she read my blog??).

And most hypocritically what they said was that I only *sometimes* *vaguely* post pro-Harris things (I often post like 5 or fewer things in a day though?). But here's the kicker. "Because I know I'll get shit for it. And rightfully so."

Really????? Not a single person, anon or not, in my messages or in a tagged post or anything, has ever given me shit before for saying who I'm voting for. I'm actually NOT afraid of "getting shit" for that opinion, I just don't start fights with people who are anti-voting. And why should I??? I genuinely don't believe in trying to change the minds of strangers on the internet about that sort of thing. I'm just not confrontational about it; that is so not the same thing as being "afraid of getting shit." I'm not posting ENOUGH about my support for Harris, therefore I'm afraid. But therefore they can also make all these assumptions about me being their strawman for an ignorant Harris supporter.

I'm afraid of getting shit but I still post anyway? But if I weren't afraid of getting shit I'd be posting a lot more?? This is ALL based on their assumptions of what my blog *should* look like, based on what I really and truly believe. My level of posting every now and then is an accurate gauge of my feelings on complex, sensitive, global issues. Because I'm voting for the Democratic presidential candidate and I'm ok sharing pretty much just that little glimpse of myself.

I really don't think that person knows just how inappropriate and insulting that is to just say all of that to me. Like they really know what's going on in my head. Their first message began and ended with like "I'm sorry I love you I just can't take it anymore" but they clearly weren't sorry enough to try and be more respectful to me, and they didn't love me enough not to default to extremely ungenerous assumptions and attacking me based off of those instead of any actual words I've said that they take issue with.

Online radicalization is real and it's not necessarily bad because your political views can start to fall well out of the contemporary Overton window. The way you find it appropriate to treat people whose views, however common, seem to fundamentally misalign with yours... that does matter. You can't just assume the worst of everyone and then act on that in how you approach them as individuals. And then be shocked that you don't stay friends with them. You can't be confrontational with someone about an issue you've never had an honest conversation about, and then expect them to take your bad faith in them as reasonable well-meaning criticism.

I'm afraid of criticism??? I'm afraid of criticism. No I'm not. This person and I have never had an issue before where they criticized me and I got harshly defensive. It was ALL projection. The entire tone of their messages was as if all their anti-voting posts recently were somehow in communication with the occasional go-vote-for-Harris posts that I make. That's not a conversation. I don't post for your satisfaction. I don't post in "response" to my mutuals I disagree with. I just post what's on my mind, sometimes, about some things. I really again can't stress enough how baffled I am by this

[pine-arten]

guys the light deity is literally called light WEAVER ...... it makes sense to have pupa/grub dragons. they are weaving

[apoeticwasteoofspace]

Knowing What You Will Never Know

If only I could've never known

If only I had never realized

Everything is different now

But I don't know if it could be for better or worse

I never thought I'd endure this curse

I always thought of it as something only others felt

But no one can compare to you

And I hate that it has to be you

Everything was fine

Because you were my everything

When you were just a friend

All I could and can think about is you

Every time you look at me my heart will sing

But now I know why

Until you I've never been shy

You are my everything

And I hate that I wish it was your arms around me

It feels like such a cliché

To be experiencing this feeling everyone seems to have in this way

That I'd never considered till now

I want to be with you

My face burns and my breath quickens

But I wish I could be that one

Knowing it's something that could never be done

Knowing you would never want me

You were the first make me feel loved

The first to make me feel like more than a waste of space

You listen to me

Every time I start to feel as if I'm being pushed out of the light

You take my hand and invite me back in

No one compares

And no one will ever make me feel the same

There was no way I could've prepared

To feel like this

Why must it be you?

You do not deserve this.

You are the world, the moon and the earth and the wind rushing through my hair

I hope you don't notice my adoring stare

It really isn't that bad

If I'm being honest, I'm honestly glad

I've never truly felt this way

It's new and strange

But I'm happy to watch from the sidelines and bask in your glow

Wrapping myself in the warm feeling I never thought I could have

Knowing what you will never know

[bitegore]

ngl i think i kind of was a genius for being like 'yeah this character is a scary killyou cannibal scary killer who scary kills you' and then realizing that the way my worldbuilding works out is that there's a nonzero chance that if you leave literally any body parts over they can just come back, depending on what they believe in their heart of hearts can kill them. Of course she'd start eating her kills. She probably tried normal stuff first and then realized it didn't work and she had to try harder if she wanted to actually keep them dead.

[faksyan]

Saw people talking about cringy romance/smut fanfics they wrote as teens and how embarrassed they are by it now and went huh. so many writers had that phase I wonder why I didn't. guess I just didn't find any of that stuff that interesting.

my man my guy you should've figured out the aroace thing sooner.

[preserve-or-raze]

my tags got out of hand

i keep thinking about hobbies and how i often spill over myself to pick up new ones. i have adhd, i end up trying something for like a month and then just getting far enough in it that i move on, satisfied.

and that should be fine; but it's never fine.

i am a pretty decent artist; but i can't just make art for my dnd campaign, i should be selling dnd maps and character designs and scene setting pieces. i can't just make my friends matching earrings, i need to get an etsy and ship them internationally and take bulk orders. i make pretty good props and decorations and use them to throw my friends parties - but i should be running a party planning business and start taking paying clients and networking and putting my skills to actual use.

for some reason, i never figured out the specifics of pottery. it was a fun class and i enjoyed myself - and still, i'm embarrassed, years later, that i put in all that useless effort. everything i make has to be stunning. stellar. i should have applied myself more. maybe i'm too lazy. maybe i'm broken and selfish and needy. actually creative people would have kept going; they would be bettering themselves at every possible opportunity.

we find ourselves in this trap, even accidentally: we need to commodify our time, because it is a commodity. if we spend our efforts and our time not earning, isn't that the same thing as burning free money? and god forbid you ever take up a hobby that ends up being more expensive than you thought. you sit in your car and you look at the receipt and in your head you hear a conversation that isn't even happening - your mom or your friend or your partner all saying oh great. not this shit again. it's always something with you, and it never actually means anything.

i have realized this horrible thing, recently - i'll get excited to start a project, pick up a new hobby. and then i just... stop myself. i start thinking about the amount of time it will take, and how it'll look in my monthly budget. what if i can't even produce a good enough final product. sure, it's exciting to think about how i could make my friend her own custom dice. but i'm just polluting the earth if i don't get it right. better not bother. better not try.

restless, i get caught in the negative space. the feeling that oh god, i want to create. and that horrible sense - yeah, but i don't have the time to just put to waste.

[bumblediary]

went to the movies with the acquaintance today