#i don't post that stuff often but i do think about it a lot

[bomberqueen17]

How To Shop For Fabric Online

RIP Joann's. Now many places in the US no longer have a local fabric store, such as it even was toward the end.

There are some good posts going around about where to shop for fabric and craft supplies online, like this one for example. But if you're a beginner-to-intermediate sewist, and the way you've always shopped for fabric is by going to the store and touching it, it can be a hard, even cruel adjustment to suddenly be looking at a photo online and trying to piece together from the inconsistent descriptions what you're actually looking at.

So I'm going to just try to bang together a little primer on What Things Are Called, and how to educate yourself, so that you don't have to do what I did and just buy a ton of inappropriate stuff you wound up not being able to use for what you'd thought. And I will link to some resources that will help with this. This will be garment-sewing-centric but will, I think, be fairly broadly applicable.

The first thing is to look carefully at your desired project. If it is a commercial pattern, it will usually tell you what kind of fabric you need, but it will describe it in not the same words it's often sold under. If it is NOT a commercial pattern and you're kind of winging it, it's even harder. So here is how to start figuring out what you need.

Number one: Knit or Woven?

Quilting fabric is woven. If you are making a quilt, you want a woven. Most craft projects are made with woven fabric-- tote bags, upholstery, you name it.

Many garments are knits. T-shirts, yoga pants, cardigans. It is easy to know, because knits stretch. They can either stretch both ways (along the length and along the width) or just one way (usually along the width); this is confusingly either called 2-way stretch or 4-way stretch. Yes, stores are inconsistent. Look carefully at the description, and they will usually specify-- "along the grain" or "in all directions". Some garments require stretch only around the body-- maxi skirts, knit dresses etc-- while some absolutely need stretch both ways, like bathing suits.

No, you absolutely cannot clone your favorite knit t-shirt in quilting cotton. It will not fit. Most knit garments have "negative ease", meaning they are smaller than your body and stretch to fit. All woven garments have "positive ease", meaning they are larger than your body, unless very firm shaping undergarments are used.

SMALL EXCEPTION: There exist "stretch wovens", which are woven fabrics made with elastic fibers. These will be labeled as such. They are actually harder to sew with than regular wovens because they almost never have their stretch percentage labeled; they are NOT suitable for knit patterns. Avoid them, until you are more advanced and know how to accomodate them, is my advice!

Number two: WEIGHT.

How heavy is the fabric? How thick? How thin? This is measured in two main ways-- ounces per yard (denim is often 8oz, 10 oz, 12 oz) or grams per square meter. But many fabric retailers do not tell you a weight, they use words like "bottomweight" or "dress-weight", and you have to learn to figure out what they mean by that.

My lifehack for learning these has been go to go to ready-to-wear clothing retailers and see if they give the weights of the fabric their garments are made from. (Yes, I learned how to shop for clothes online instead of in-store years ago, because I am fat; some of us have had to do this a long time.)

If you are making a pair of trousers, you need heavier fabric than if you are making a blouse. Do not buy a floaty translucent chiffon to make your work trousers, it will not work no matter how cute the color is. Learn how the different weights of fabric are described, and you will improve your odds of finding what you need.

Number three: DRAPE.

Is it stiff? Is it fluid? Is it soft? is it firm? There are a lot of very artsy words used for this, and you may find yourself puzzling over things with a fluid hand, or a dry, crisp hand, or "a lot of drape", or maybe the listing doesn't describe it at all. This segues neatly into another technical thing, which is the WEAVE of the fabric. There is a dizzying array of words that tell you what kind of fabric it is-- twill, tabby, challis, chiffon, crepe, organza, georgette. And these will give you insight into the drape, and thus into the texture/usability of this fabric, and how suitable it may or may not be for your project.

I know it's a lot to think about but I am now going to give you resources for where to see all this stuff.

Number one is Mood Fabrics, which I can't believe hasn't been in any of the posts I've seen so far. They are a huge store in NYC's Fashion District and yes you can go there, but when I went there it overwhelmed me so much I left empty-handed. But what they have is AN INCREDIBLE WEBSITE. They have everything on there, and what's most important for you, their listings are INCREDIBLY consistent. They have VIDEOS of many of the fabrics, where a sales associate will hold it, wave it, stretch it, and tell you verbally what it is and what it's for, in about thirty seconds. HUNDREDS of these videos.

Whether you want to buy from them or not, go to Mood Fabrics, click around, find their listings, and read them. They will tell you fabric content, weight (usually gsm), often weave, they have little graphics that show you if it's for pants, dresses, shirts. And they have those videos. Look at the listings, watch the videos, and you will leave knowing a lot more about how to look at an online listing of fabric and know what you're getting.

Another really excellent website for this is Stonemountain & Daughter. I've actually not bought anything from them yet (they came highly recommended, but they're not cheap), but their online listings are, again, very thorough and very detailed. They always have a picture of the fabric with a fold in it held in place by a pin, which does more to help you understand the weight and drape of a fabric than any other static image ever could-- that visual, combined with how informative the listings are, has helped me learn to estimate fabric weights on other sites very effectively.

And here is a page that's ostensibly about how to wash silk, but I found it so useful because it gives such a clear image of what each weave/type of silk fabric looks and drapes like. I've never bought anything from these guys either, but this is a good resource.

Learn a little bit about fabric so you know what you're looking for, and you can begin to replace some of that "i just have to go and feel it in person" problem. There will still be trial and error, but you'll have a better starting place at least.

[lottie-loves-you]

This goes for every fandom and there are real reasons it's unacceptable. Ai image generators steal from artists to create those images. They also discourage artists from posting because we don't want our stuff stolen, destroy beginner artists from learning because"what's the point if ai can do it better", and add to the destruction of fandom culture. You appreciate your real artists a lot less when you devalue their work with ai. If you want something specific, learn to draw, commission someone, or find someone with requests open.

Ai text generators scrape fic sites so they are stealing from fic authors. That goes for Ai chat bots too. All the things I said about visual arts apply to writing as well but on top of that, especially in big fandoms, it's so painfully pointless. That specific thing y wanted the characters to do probably already exists in a fic if you look hard enough, you're just lazy and don't want to look. If it doesn't exist, write it yourself or commission someone to write it. Fic writers often stop posting due to lack of engagement so go find that specific fix you've been looking for and leave a really nice comment. If you're lucky, you might even encourage the author to write more like it. As for the ai chat bots, they contribute to the death of fandom culture. There are lots of other little weirdos(/pos) who want to rp the same stuff you do. Go find them and rp together. Is doing rp with another real person awkward sometimes? Maybe. Might it take longer than an ai that responds instantly? Yeah. So? You're building a real connection with a real other person instead of wasting your time talking to an ai that can't care about you or feel. The feeling of having another person that you're creating a brain child story with is something ai simply can't replicate because there is no other person on the other side and if you're like me and can't write with another person because they don't take it as seriously as you (yeah, I know. I'm so fun to be around but like… taking it too seriously is fun for me.) or you can't agree on ploy direction, maybe rp isn't for you and you should write fanfiction instead. If you don't like rp and decide to write alone instead, you can still have that community by asking moots to beta read for you. Either way, none of that connection happens when you use ai.

I actually think Ai audios are the most egregious. Often they are sexual and that is absolutely a violation of the actor/VAs who did not consent to their voices being used that way. Even when it's not sexualized, their voices are a large part of actor's jobs and VA's entire jobs so if you are stealing that from them, you're a fucking monster. If you're too embarrassed to do your own impressions of the characters saying whatever you want them to say, you shouldn't be posting it. Yes, this one is my most hard line, no nuance take. How would you feel if people were posting audio porn of your voice that you didn't make or consent to being made? Not good? Oh, great. If you can't see the problem with this one, kindly delete all your socials and never engage in any fandom or media again. There's no excuse for any ai use but especially this one. That's a real person's real voice.

I'm not sorry for any of these takes and I will call you disgusting, cowardly, and trash for using ai when you damn well know better. I call ai posting "littering" for a reason. Please openly shame ai usage.

like i'm sorry but we as a fandom have to stay firm on our anti-AI values. we cannot suddenly start giving AI a pass when it's something we "want to see" like destiel kisses. it's not suddenly fine. we're not going to start using AI to make fanfic scenes come to life or audio AI to make characters "say" stuff we want to hear. you have GOT to be firm on your anti-AI stance. if you start making exceptions then suddenly anything will fly. fandom is for real art and creations made by real people. no AI fanfics. no AI art. no AI rendered "bonus" scenes. no AI audio. none of it has a place here.

[ghouljams]

I really appreciate you reblogging that post about how difficult it is to quit an addiction. I myself am currently struggling with a sugar/caffeine addiction, and I drink way too much coke cola (and if I can't get my hands on some, energy drinks). It's nice to be reminded that it's not just me who is constantly thinking about how good it would feel to have juuust a little more, even if I said I would stop. I've tried to quit it multiple times, and each failed attempt disheartens me greatly and makes me feel weak willed, even if I rationally know everyone battling an addiction has those moments.

Sugar addictions often aren't treated as seriously as the "scary" drugs or smoking, but it's just as damaging to your health and difficult to quit, especially when the human brain is hardwired to want sugary, fatty foods. I hope one day to be strong enough to resist those cravings and get my health back on track.

You can become addicted to anything that makes you feel good. People are getting addicted to AI chat bots for god's sake, it doesn't even have to be quality stuff as long as it gives you that rush of dopamine it can reel you in. Now, some things are better designed to addict you, drugs and alcohol, sugar and caffeine, but that doesn't mean you aren't still getting that good feeling. Even if you don't get it every time, even if you only get that hit the first time, humans will chase that first high for the rest of their lives. It's the reason people stay in abusive relationships, things will never be as good as they were at the start but there's this silent promise that they might be.

Anyone can become addicted to anything. And I'm not saying that to scare anyone, but more to make the point that no one is above addiction. Addiction is not a moral failing, or a weakness, it's a human survival tactic. We want the thing that makes us feel good, that keeps the loneliness at bay, that stops us from feeling bad things even if they do that by keeping us from feeling anything at all. Our brains want that dopamine shot, even when reasonably we know whatever is giving us that shot is bad for us.

Getting past an addiction is hard no matter what that addiction is. I try to tell people that they need to find something to redirect that craving towards. For one of my loved ones we're working on finding a painting class and a book club because they've realized that a lot of their relapsing comes from feeling lonely. For you, maybe having a chew fidget would help, or keeping fruit on hand, or (if you're like me) purging your house of all sugary snacks. I can't keep sugar in my house or I'll eat it, so I don't buy it. It sucks, I want it, but I know myself and I know that the best way to keep myself from doing something is to try and remove as much temptation as possible.

It's much harder for me to justify leaving my house to go get candy than it is for me to get up and get a chocolate from the pantry. Or if I really want a sweetie, I have to figure out making it myself. Which means I can try and figure out a healthier option to make. Idk it's a long road, and something like sugar/caffeine/alcohol is so ingrained in our society that it feels impossible to avoid.

I have a friend who used heroin (now clean, I'm so proud of her) and she always said the hardest part of recovery was giving a shit about herself. She said there was always going to be part of her that wanted to use, so she had to make the rest of her louder, had to find reasons to care enough not to go back to her old habits. She got a lot of tattoos during her recovery, reconnected with her mom.

Not to say that addicts don't care about themselves, or that you don't care about yourself, I always thought she meant it more in the way of a parent caring for a child. You know, you don't let kids do something just because they want to because you care about keeping them safe. In the same way you sort of have to parent yourself. Say you've got sugar at home even though you don't, promise you'll make yourself donuts and then quit as soon as you get home because you don't want to boil oil. Learn to make croissants and then never make them again because they're such a fucking hassle. idk

You're not weak because you have trouble telling yourself no, people generally have trouble with that. You're just a person trying to listen to your body. It's just too bad your body isn't always a great judge of what's good for it.

[maririari]

(pointless rant)

kinda bums me out that 2 outsiders (or whatever you call them), MSI has been watered down 2 merely its band members and their actions, which i think is understandable, but the music is often overlooked . sometimes u can't post abt ur appreciation of the music without some1 saying "ermm isn't the band members problematic" or like "it's such a good band but the members r problematic😞" - which i, AGAIN, understand, but it's been said and repeated so many times that it's just annoying . we don't need constant reminders, we are aware, and we don't rlly want you bringing up kinda irrelevant stuff when we just want 2 talk abt the band as a music and an aesthetic .

i've been avoiding MSI 4 many years bc all i saw and heard was negative stuff, but once i actually got into it, it honestly helped me thru a lot (ik it's corny but idc) . they have such versatile songs and is very unique, which is what i like about them, not whatever the members did, and i wish more ppl realized that . obviously most ppl r normal enough 2 not support and condone such disgusting actions . use ur brainz maybe? idk

the hate is understandable, but it's no use sending death threats 2 teens who just wanna enjoy music . every1 is constantly trying 2 one up each other with their morality and it's getting annoying bc all they do is harass ppl thinking they're doing smth . especially on tiktok lmao

as much as i am obsessed with MSI, it all comes with a sense of guilt n shame and i wish i could stop feeling that way . i constantly feel the need 2 say "i don't support the band! i don't support the band!" EVERY FUCKING TIME and it's annoying, not only 2 me, but 2 MSI fans, and every other ppl alike . i don't have 2 state the fuckin obvious 24/7 just bc some pissbabies think they're saints bc they harass random ppl on the internet . like yeah okay it's iffy when some ppl put a celebrity on a pedestal and defend and deny their actions, but i'm sure we've got bigger fish 2 fry . go send death threat 2 a groomer or smth please

[specialistpinky]

*♡ big juicy ♡* | choso x oc

next episode

「 ✦ coke & rum ✦ 」

wc: 4.5k

a/n: heya! this is my first time trying out tumblr to post my works (2014 is soooo back), so we're gonna see how this goes. enjoy~!

bust down middle pointer, i got it black (i'm a big fine ho!) walkin' through the club lookin like a snack (but you knew that though)

—GET IT SEXYY by SEXYY RED

why the hell do they make these damn dorms so confusing? i think, wandering down the hall and hauling my luggage while looking down at the map again, squinting to make sure i'm heading in the right direction.

i take in my surroundings. the walls are bland beige with lime-green accents. a few back-to-school event flyers hang on the walls. the carpet is one of those funky 80s arcade patterns that kids used to throw up all over. 

these are supposed to be the senior dorms? i thought they would’ve been a hell of a lot nicer.

after a bunch of twists and turns and endless numbers that weren't my room, i creep up to a door, gazing at the three numbers plated on the side: 824.

"finally! praise Jesus," i sigh, rejoicing for my long-awaited rest.

i fold the paper up and stuff it in my back pocket. i breathe in and out, remembering that i have a roommate again. yeah, it's cheaper to live with someone else, but my privacy is crucial to me, and i have a very low tolerance for other people's bad habits, so i would’ve preferred living by myself. out of my control now, though.

i can only hope my roommate is fairly decent this time. last year, i got a trust fund baby who liked blasting the same five fucking songs all day, passed out drunk in the bathroom, and piled up dishes in the sink.

i knock on the door hard, seeing if someone will open it. i have a key, but i don't feel like opening it. my federal-ass knocking will surely get my roomie's attention. plus, i'd rather meet them from a distance than walk inside and find something i don't wanna see.

the lock clicks as the doorknob turns, the door creaking open.

"Yuji, it’s seven in the morning. i already told you i'm not letting you borrow my car."

my eyes widen a little. in the doorway stands a tall, grown-ass man with dark shoulder-length hair wearing a faded Metallica shirt and plaid boxers. he's littered with tattoos from what i can see, some of the work peeking from under his half-clad thighs. he's rubbing his eye like a tired child woken up from nap time and keeping them closed, clearly not seeing that i'm not "Yuji."

i cross my arms and squint. "who’re you?" i question, harboring a little bit of hostility in my voice—for good reason, though. a random man just opened the door when i fully expected a woman.

the guy stops rubbing his eyes and blinks once, twice before eyeing me up and down with an equally confused look.

"you're not Yuji," he rasps, scratching his chin.

i jut my hip out, cocking my head to the side. "yeah, definitely not. you’re not Ashlee."

i pull out the dorm letter from my other pocket to check if i'm crazy, and yep, still says Ashlee’s my roommate.

"is Ashlee here?" i look back up at the man who's sporting a deadpan face. i try to peer inside the room, asking, "are you like, her boyfriend or somethin'? cuz we’re gonna have to talk about how often you’re allowed to stay here."

he tilts in the same direction i'm moving, blocking my view. i frown. his face stays blank. "there's no Ashlee here," he says.

i stay silent for a moment. then i huff out of my nose and smirk. "alright, funny guy, quit fuckin' around and bring out my roommate."

he blinks all frog-like, slow and unbothered, then screws his eyes shut before scratching his eyebrow. "i’m telling you there’s no Ashlee here. i live here. you might have the wrong room."

i'm tempted to roll my eyes at his backtalk and slightly condescending tone, but i'm attempting to be nicer these days, so i offer a tight-lipped smile.

i speak calmly, "this is room 824, right?"

i knew the answer; i just wanted to see how he would respond. he seems to think i'm some fucking bimbo with no thoughts to my dainty little head.

the man scratches his neck and nods. "yeah?" his statement comes out more like a question.

i nod once, the top of my lip curling. "right, that's what i thought. so, i'm telling you," i emphasize my words by pointing at myself and then at the mystery man who claims to live in my dorm, "this is where i was assigned as per the letter."

i wave the flimsy piece of paper in the air and hold it out to him. "you're more than welcome to take a read."

he snatches the letter from me, aggravating my soul further as he stands there in his indecency and indignation. he skims the paper, muttering to himself before looking back up at me, a befuddled, fatigued look adorning his features.

he cocks an eyebrow, handing the paper back to me. "you're a girl, though," he comments intelligently. 

i can't help it as the whites of my eyes probably make themselves known and my irises disappear before reappearing.

i purse my lips together and make them pop, bucking my eyes for a second in irritation. "no shit, Sherlock," i spit. i sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose. "how the fuck did i end up in a co-ed dorm?" i mumble under my breath, trying to compose myself before i break down in the middle of this hallway and alarm the whole floor.

i suck my teeth and hold out a loud groan, making my way inside. "ugh, this is so ridiculous," i grumble, completely ignoring the man in the doorway.

he barely moves out of the doorway, making space for me to enter, a clear look of disdain i hardly acknowledge and feel targeting my backside.

"make yourself at home," he mumbles sarcastically.

i strut through the small space, looking around and humming, "not too bad. at least you keep it tidy in here." i turn back to the man whom i have the unfortunate pleasure of rooming with. "let’s keep it that way."

he doesn't reply beyond that weird little blink again. yuck! it gives me major goosebumps.

i try to keep the faces to a minimum as i walk up to my room door, pulling out a key from my purse to unlock it.

i twist the key and—

clunk!

"huh?" 

that didn’t sound good.

i try again, jiggling the key around this time but still feeling resistance. i twist using both hands and all my might to unlock my room. i grunt, pushing and turning until my fingertips turn bright red, then stop, out of breath from my effort.

i pinch my eyebrows together, frustrated at this stupid fucking door barring me from my one safe haven for the next ten months.

"urgh! damn it," i groan. i cock my leg back to kick the door but halt right before my foot makes contact. i don't have on shoes; i probably shouldn’t do that.

i growl low in my throat, banging my fist on the door and attempting to open it several more times before giving up. i sulk into the kitchen and sit down at the table. my roommate—i still don't know his name—is sitting on the couch, glued to the television, occupying his mouth with what looks like a sucker. looks a little young to be a heavy smoker. must be quitting.

the longer i look at him, the more i have to admit how attractive he is—fine as hell, even. his piercing lavender eyes are hypnotic. all them tattoos give a nice edge, and his boxers hanging on his hips with the little v-line poking out caught my attention. he's got those pink, pouty lips people kill for. he looks pretty well-kempt: nice clear skin, thick healthy hair, and clean nails. not typical male behavior. shit, he might be gay, huh?

i smack myself, shaking my head at the thoughts. so what if he is gay? i think, not like i should get at him, anyway.

i'm so glad i have a single because if i had to share a room with him? i don't even wanna put that into the air, man.

a hand waves over my face, snapping me out of my horny thoughts. i jump back and find my roommate standing before me with that confused, droopy look. i furrow my eyebrows and bark out a "what?"

he does that stupid bimbo blink again, then he smirks at me and says, "you were just standing there. figured you needed help."

jesus, we haven’t even made it 24 hours and he already knows how to push buttons i didn’t even know existed. 

and this is who i have to room with for the next nine months. awesome. just. awesome

"thought you would’ve scurried to your room by now,” he husks, his eyelids low and a smirk on his face.

i flip my hair out of my face. “can’t get in.”

“can't get into your room, huh?” he leans down to look me square in the face, swirling around the stick in his mouth. “that’s a shame. explains why you were struggling with the door."

so, he knew i was struggling and did nothing to help or ask me if i’m okay? what a fucking chump.

i scoff and roll my eyes so hard i feel them sticking to the back of my skull. i swear, if i roll them one more time, i'mma be stuck looking like the Exorcist.

i mutter a "whatever," spinning on my heel to grab my suitcases from outside.

when i open the front door, i notice that my stuff isn't there anymore. i peek from behind the door, looking in both directions of the hallway to see if anyone grabbed them by accident. or on purpose—you never know.

after a few seconds, i groan and shut the door, irritated that my stuff disappeared.

"yo, emo boy, you seen my stuff sitting in the hall...way?" i ask, my words trailing off as i turn around to see the man pointing behind me. i follow his direction, finding my luggage in the living room's corner.

i eye my housemate with crossed arms. "oh," i say simply.

the man mimics me while leaning back against the nearest wall with his foot kicked up. "you left them out there, and i figured you forgot, so i brought them in for you."

well, isn't that so sweet and thoughtful of him? golly, it makes it so much better than his attitude has the charm of a rock taped to a stick.

i nod once. "thank you," i say.

"you're welcome."

my gaze starts to wander again, trailing from his exposed collarbone to his flexed arms. i can make out some of his tattoos: a few birds scattered across his throat, a purple flower right below his Adam's apple, and a couple of names etched on his forearms.

he clears his throat with an amused expression. wow, i didn't think he made any other faces besides drowsy and nonchalant.

he cocks his head to the side. "see something you like, princess?"

oh, he wanna be bold. okay, i see what's going on.

i squint at him challengingly as i round the table, slowly making my way over to him and smiling at him with hooded eyes. "don't flatter yourself, boo. just wondering if you steal from Salvation Army or if you genuinely dress like that. plus, i tend to like my men a little..." i poke him in the middle of his chest, “meatier.” he follows my finger before looking back at me with a raised brow.

"anyways," i say, drawing out the word and backing away. "since you're in a helpful mood, could you grab Millie and roll her to my room?" i bat my eyelashes to add extra flare to my request. no one can resist it.

he keeps that same tired, disinterested look on his face, his hypnotic lavender irises raking up and down my body. he snorts with a smirk and walks past me, lightly shoulder-checking me and beelining for the couch.

fuck, that didn't work on him?!

i fix my face, clearing my throat as i walk to the fridge and duck down, finding a Coke way in the back of the top shelf. "jackpot," i whisper, swiping it and popping the tab open, gulping down half the drink in a few seconds. i let out a small burp before pushing out a louder one.

the man looks back at me and cringes, his nose scrunching up in disgust but not saying anything.

i meet his gaze, shrugging with no remorse. it's natural, so why not let loose? i take another sip and ask again, "so, can you get Millie for me, please?"

he blinks and turns back to the TV, his hands behind his head. "who the hell is Millie?" he rasps.

i groan, "ugh, Millie! my Millie!"

he turns back around and furrows an eyebrow. "again, who is Millie? is she a dog or something?"

i point to my luggage in the corner. "Millie's the cute sparkly rouge suitcase with the gold handle."

he looks at my hand directed at my luggage and then back at me, bewildered. "Millie's a suitcase." his words come out like a statement rather than a question.

i raise an eyebrow and roll my neck. "uh, duh. you got a hearing problem?"

"you named your suitcase?" he chuckles wryly.

i furrow my eyebrows. "well, obviously me. i name all my precious things."

he laughs harder. "who names their suitcase? that's so lame."

"you listen to Metallica, so," i mutter, taking a sip of my drink.

"what?" 

i shake my head. "nothing," i say, glancing to the side.

"right. you know, you have a bratty attitude," he comments. "it's incredible you haven’t managed to piss someone off enough to get kicked out."

i hide my grin behind the soda can and reply coyly, "who says i haven't already done that?"

"can't imagine how that happened," he huffs. he waves a hand and turns back to the TV. "anyhow, get your own suitcase."

i whimper dramatically, "but i've been packing, moving, and traveling since Monday, and i've been so tired lately, and my body is in total pain from all of it, so i don't think i'll be able to carry all of those heavy bags by my lonesome, and—”

"all right, okay, please just stop! i’ll do it," he relents, shaking his head and grumbling as he walks over to my stuff. he grabs Millie's handle, scoffing, "can't believe i'm doing this."

he pulls Millie; she doesn't budge. he turns around and stares at my bag confused. he pulls again, hardly moving her. he instead uses both hands, tugging backward until Millie squeaks and starts scraping her rusty wheels across the carpet.

"jesus, woman, what do you have in here—rocks?" he grunts.

i grin, leaning against the counter as his biceps flex with each pull. his neck veins and arm veins bulge against his pale skin, decorating his muscles nicely. that little frustrated look on his face amuses me, too. nothing like seeing a man struggle at the behest of a woman.

woah, Freudian slip much?

"need help over there?" i ask coyly.

he shakes his head, readjusting his grip and stabilizing his body before pulling Millie in one last swift motion, clobbering his foot with one of her wheels in the process. he stumbles back and hits the wall, cursing, "fucking shit!” he crouches down to soothe his injury.

i let out a hard "HA!" before covering it up with a cough. i keep drinking to keep from laughing again. he hears me (not a shocker), so i'm met with a nasty glare, which makes me snort and nearly spit out my soda. I don’t blame him for that. i would do the same if i were made to do someone else's mundane bidding and they started laughing at me after i hurt myself. unfortunately for him—and fortunately for me—i'm not in that situation.

i notice the red mark appearing on the hilt of his foot from the kitchen. i coo mockingly, "oh no! poor baby. need me to kiss your boo-boo?"

he looks at me with another grimace, baring his teeth. i stick my tongue out playfully. i watch him wobble as he stands back up, grunting with each limp he takes to his room and saying under his breath "brat" before slamming the door behind him.

i can't help but smirk again. i was going to ask him to take Bobbi and Brownie with him for me, but he's injured now—wouldn't want him to somehow die on me and i be held liable for his early demise.

i continue sipping on my soda as i pull my phone out of my purse and call up my homegirl. 

she picks up after the second ring. "hey, bitch!"

"hey, babe. where you at?"

"i'm at home. why, what's up?"

i cross my legs and lean back in my chair. "girl! i'm so fucking exhausted, but i need to go shopping for my room. you got time today?"

"girl, i don’t know. i'm supposed to be going to brunch soon."

i suck my teeth. "boo, you whore. and to think i was gonna treat you to barbecue. oh well, i'll call someone else."

"wait, wait, wait! lemme see what Nana says."

i hear some rustling and hushed voices in the background. i shouldn't be surprised she was laid up in the bed with her man and didn't tell me, knowing how shameless that girl is.

i don't comment and patiently wait for her reply.

"okay, he's gonna push brunch to dinner. you lucky as fuck my man's chill like that cuz we had reservations."

"damn, my bad. should've told me. now i feel like i'm disturbing y'all."

she sighs, "it's fine. plus, i haven't seen you in like, three months. i miss my boo!"

"i missed you, too, boo. but, bitch, lemme tell you!" i rub my forehead and whine, "these muthafuckas got me all the way fucked up cuz why the fuck did they give the wrong roommate?"

"girl, how the fuck do they give you the wrong roommate?"

"man, i have no idea, but i guess it could be worse."

"who is it? it ain't that rich bitch from last year, is it? cuz i'll beat that ho ass again just cuz i can."

i chuckle at her quick resort to violence. "nah, it ain't her," i say. "i heard she transferred to some private school overseas, so i'on know why she'd come back to this ghetto ass school."

"she betta not. anyways, who you rooming with?"

i mentally prepare myself as i say, "chile, why i get a man–?"

before i can even finish, i hear a shrill scream from the other side. i pull the phone back, looking at it like it offended me. i mean, my ears are offended with allat fucking screaming she doing early in the morning. her neighbors must think she get stabbed every time she and her man hunch (which i have the displeasure of knowing they have sex every day, so i can only imagine).

"BITCH, THEY PUT YOU WITH A MAN? bitch, oh my god, you so fuckin' lucky! that was my number-one fantasy for years! is he hot??"

i chuckle, peering around the room to see if he was around. i cover my mouth and whisper into the receiver, "girl, the man is fine as all hell."

"and you ain't tell me?! what he look like?"

"bitch, i just found out like 30 minutes ago i had a male roommate. he a emo boy, first of all."

"oh, okay, okay, we love a good emo boy. i heard they got big dicks, too!"

"girl, shut up ‘fore you get in trouble with Nanami! anyways, he hella tall and he buff, but he ain't buff buff. to be honest, he look kinda sickly and malnourished. makes me wonder what he be eating for him to look like that."

another loud but less deafening squeal assaults my eardrum. "sounds like he need to be fed, then!" 

i can hear her eyebrows wiggling through the phone. she continues, "ooo, bitch, i need to come over and see what he look like right NEOW. cuz if you don't fuck him, i will!"

i belly-laugh, knocking my head back. "bruh, he ain't even my type for real," i quip. "also, don't you got a whole ass boyfriend?" i giggle through my words.

"aye, as i always say: don't let your current boyfriend—"

"stop you from finding your future husband. yeah, yeah, i know how that goes," i finish for her, chewing on my bottom lip. "i mean, you still shouldn't do it for your sake."

"i know, i know, i'm just playin'! plus, my Kento treats me so well. he’s practically my husband at this point. i can't let him go. neva eva!"

i know she will never let that man go. the way he dotes on her hand and foot with no hesitation makes my heart swell and my stomach sick at the same time. seeing them together restores my faith in humanity bit by bit, and i can only wish for something like that to come my way.

i look at myself in the mirror across from me, noticing my lip makeup fading and my hair losing its shape.

i stand up, going over to my other luggage and rummaging through them to find my makeup bag, finding my gloss and lip liner pencil. i get up to fix myself up in the hallway mirror and reapply my lipgloss while i talk. "you betta not. cuz if you do, imma beat that ass and take him for myself."

"oooh, i'm so scared. Nanamin, baby, save me! bestie said she's gonna hurt me and steal you away from me."

i hear her pouting through the phone and Kento murmuring in the background. i press the phone between my ear and my shoulder as i rake my fingers through my hair.

"girl, bye. you're such a drama queen. also, hey, Kento."

i hear a deep but small "hello" back. there’s more shuffling and whispering before my friend comes back on the phone.

"bitch, you're crowned royalty for drama. pot calling the kettle black as hell."

"sure, whatever you say. also imma need you to pick me cuz i don't got a car right now."

"what? the hell happened to your car?"

i suck my teeth. "girl, 'member how i told you my sister crashed her bucket drunk driving a couple weeks ago? my mom was all like, 'she needs a car until we can get her a new one, so we need to keep yours at home.' like dude, it's MY car! how you just gon' take my car that i bought with my own money? shit is wicked."

"damn, bitch, for real? a'ight, i'll come get you in twenty minutes because you know i love me a good spree."

i smile. "cool, cuz i need to figure out how i'mma get into my room before i go to sleep tonight."

"how you locked out the room already? you just got there."

i sigh, "bitch, i'on know. these people get on my fuckin' nerves."

"we'll lockpick it when i get there. see you then! kisses. muah!"

"bye, love you. mwah!" i send a kiss through the phone before hanging up.

i rake my hands through my hair, fluffing it poofier before giving myself a toothy grin and blowing a kiss in the mirror.

i hear a low wolf whistle. "wow, bratty and conceited? a double trouble princess."

i whip my head around to see emo boy leaning against the wall, now wearing loose gray sweatpants and a Cocteau Twins muscle tee with his hair in two spiky space buns. shit, i might've been lying when i joked about him not being my type. he need to stop dressing like that before i throw him on a street corner and make some money off him.

i throw him a tight-lipped smile and go back to messing with my hair in the mirror. "bratty? always. conceited? not over here, honey. just a hottie with high self-esteem."

"is that right?" he husks. i hear him moving but pay him no mind as i straighten my skirt. i turn around, looking at the back of it. i smile, seeing my ass poking out from underneath the skimpy garment.

i gaze at myself for a little longer, my eyes traveling up my body before they land on emo boy standing right behind me. i flinch a little, turning my head to face him.

his tired eyes flash an emotion i can't discern. for a moment, it looked like lust.

i take a deep breath. i cock an eyebrow and ask, "can i help you?"

he stays quiet, looking down at me with that creepy lopsided smile. he eyes me up and down before stepping away, beelining for the couch and plopping down, kicking his socked feet up on the coffee table. he flicks through television channels as he says, "that outfit suits you."

the fuck is that supposed to mean?

i let out a short laugh, pulling my shirt down before turning to my housemate. "them eye-bags suit you, too, emo boy."

that man need to find him some business 'fore i find some for him. shit, he can find some business himself between these muthafuckin' chocolate thighs.

ugh, i should stop thinkin' like that about my housemate. i would rather not get caught up in another situationship or get involved with someone from this school ever again, even if it runs an exhilarating chill down my spine to imagine how big it is .

picking up my phone from the counter, i text my friend.

yo, eta?

bout 10 minutes ;)))

i sigh, going back to the kitchen table and sitting my chin in my palm. i'm still annoyed at the fact that my door is jammed. if she can't get into the room, i'm gonna have to call maintenance, which definitely puts a dent in my plans to sleep tomorrow morning.

that doesn't stop me from mentally planning my decorations. i imagine where i want my posters arranged. i have a few Britney Spears and Tyra Banks posters stowed away in my suitcases, and the canopy i bought back home should be coming in the mail soon. then, after my target trip, my room should be a girl's paradise times 100.

optimizing is key while i'm here. i should probably get a set of speakers and some lights, too. maybe a bean bag if there's space.

so many ideas, so little time and money.

knock, knock, knock!

i perk up, clapping my hands and bouncing a little in my seat. "yay, my bestie is here! eek!" i squeal. i stand up to greet her at the door only to find my housemate already opening the door. he barely cracks it open and he's blocking the way, so i can't see who's on the other side. eventually, my housemate moves to the side, letting the other person walk in. i look to who it is. my eyes widen and my jaw drops as i watch them walk in. before i can even control it, i find myself whispering in shock.

"Itadori?"

[itsmistyeyedbi]

I was listening to Angel by Massive Attack and Hayloft 2 by Mother Mother while answering this question for Zuri, and I think both songs in that order is...oof.

Angel doesn't have many lyrics but the overall sound is on point - and this contrast right here: You are my angel // Come from way above // To bring me love vs Her eyes // She's on the dark side // Neutralise // Every man in sight

Something about that contrast is so !!!

(With the added context of Bobby calling her his angel, it can show that she's regressing to how she was when they were still close - doing whatever you can for someone you love care about, even questionable, morally dubious things. These are obviously way more high stakes and with much more egregious actions being taken, but that's a sign that maybe that mindset hasn't fully gone away.)

Hayloft 2 definitely works as well, especially these lines: An eye for an eye, a leg for a leg // A shot in the heart doesn't make it unbreak // She really didn't wanna make it messy // She really really didn't, but the girl gone cray

The part about it not unbreaking your heart fits-ish. It doesn't bring Rook back, it doesn't let her have the life and relationship she could have had with Rebecca. It doesn't change the fact that she has been irreparably changed, that her agency has been taken away so many times. That the entire course of her life has been changed again because of other people's selfish desires. But she does feel different, something inside her feels soothed at the fact that she can have some control in her life. That even though terrible things have happened to her and been done to her... she can be on the other side of it too.

It's not something she plans on repeating (keyword being plans), but that reminder that no matter what people do to her, no one can truly take her agency away, is strangely... disturbingly comforting. She can always get it back somehow - even in ways that turns the tables on those who try to take it away again (this is why I say -ish, she doesn't feel better about her circumstances but what she does feel isn't just bad).

And the last part!!: She's not a bad kid, she's not a bad kid // But she had to do it, she had to do it // They're not a bad kid, but they had to do it // They couldn't not, they had to face off // She's not a bad kid, but they had to do it // She had to crack, she had to kill pop.

Obviously she didn't kill Rook lol, but that slightly ominous sound with the repetition of certain phrases makes me think about Zuri trying to explain the very mixed, complicated feelings she'd have about herself to herself (and maybe other's too) if she went through with killing the people (who are supernaturals if I'm remembering right) who are responsible for his death.

And the "she had to crack" is OOF. Because she wouldn't have done it if she hadn't cracked.

She knows it wasn't the right thing to do (who is she to decide who lives and dies? Who is anyone to do that?). But sometimes... the right thing doesn't feel like enough. And when someone else think they have the power to make that decision... maybe they need a reminder that they still can't.

[deoidesign]

Hello! I just discovered your blog and I immediately became captivated by your webcomic, but I'm unsure where to read all of it. I know it's on Webtoons, but I can see it hasn't been updated for a while, and you still post about it.

Are your physical novels just prints of the webcomic? Are they a continuation? Is the story complete? Thanks in advance!

Hi there!

Glad you found me and are enjoying my comic!

It's only on webtoons, and the story is not complete yet! We're 2/3 of the way through right now. It's currently on hiatus, and it's scheduled to come back in about 2 months!

I'll explain why it's been so long if you're curious, but also for my followers who might also be wondering about it under the cut. Sorry, it's pretty much just me complaining haha

I took a month off I took 2 months to get the books printed I took a month to prepare my next comic and I took 2 months to write the rest of the series (I knew the character arcs I wanted, but not the time periods or mysteries!!!) I've been working on actual episodes since then

I had to take some time off because of some pretty extreme burnout due to the sheer amount of work it was to draw over 800 pages and write 6 complete stories in a year and a half... I was getting sick almost weekly due to the overwork, it was really really bad honestly. I was having to work 60+ hours every week just to keep up...

The nature of the comic itself is also difficult... Each of the arcs is a complete, self contained story which can be read (ideally) without context, and my arcs need to be about 10-13 episodes each... And since I have an exact number of episodes to work with, it's even harder.

It takes a ton of planning and a ton of refinement, and working week to week with no breaks I was forced to put out second or even first drafts, so I just wasn't happy with the work I was doing... And to do that for the rest of the series? I wouldn't be proud of the work I did.

Plus... To be entirely honest, webtoon has treated me quite badly IN MY OPINION... They deprioritized me before I launched (I had to beg for more promotion, I'm not exaggerating), they outright denied me the opportunity to even ask for a raise, I don't make any money on fast pass and they pay me less than my partner makes working at trader joes. My first editor left me completely hanging, my second editor (who I loved) was fired... And they told me I wouldn't get a third season before my first season even finished. So it was just repeatedly completely demoralizing.

I'm sorry it has taken so long, it'll have been 10 months by the time I come back. But I realized... I won't get promotion either way. I won't get more episodes either way. I won't get more money either way. So to finish everything, to make it feel good, to make it something I'm proud of, I chose to take longer to make it better.

I am fully aware I will lose a significant amount of my readership for this and it might genuinely affect my career moving forward. But it's what I had to do! So I'm sticking to my guns on it, and I'm confident long term it'll be worth it. It never could have been this good if I didn't take this much time.

[thepoisonroom]

that post that's like "learning social skills helps with social anxiety" applies to dating also btw

[aroceu]

i'm making this post mostly to vent, but also to reflect.

being in mdzs fandom was the first time being in fandom felt like... "content," to me. like i was a creator who WAS obliged to the masses, who was seen as holding some social power because i was interested in creating works for people to enjoy, rather than enjoying them myself. even though i am both: i am someone who likes to read as much as i like to write. i like enjoying as much as i like creating things for people to enjoy. i don't believe in this dichotomy, and i sure as hell didn't come into fandom for parasocial attention.

one of the problems definitely was that i was on twitter more than i was writing, and i was thinking of ways to game the algorithm so i stayed on people's feeds, because of the way twitter began to work, because of my own anxiety, and because subconsciously i understood the landscape. i didn't like it but i knew it. and too much was going on in my life that i couldn't take a step back and realize how much it was negatively affecting me.

still, it felt weird and strange and wrong to have followers with bios that said things like "don't perceive me i'm just here to read." strangers who would reply to my posts with over-familiarity and rudeness and said they were justified because i had over 1000 followers on twitter, because that is apparently a marker of how you are "allowed" to treat another stranger online. throwing around the terms "bnf" and "popular" as if they mean something beyond being similar to how american high schools work. i saw people group me and my friends who also had a lot of followers as this exclusive class of people in the fandom because we liked making things for other people to enjoy and we had a lot of followers, and therefore they could treat and generalize us all in weird dehumanizing ways because of it. i saw people complain that if any of us said anything "problematic" or "wrong" then it was a moral failing on the rest of us if we didn't publicly call it out.

and like. fandom is not a content creation space. at least, not to me. while i do like attention and making a big number even bigger—like i'm not gonna lie, it does give me dopamine!—i didn't come here to generate a parasocial audience. i came here to make cool stuff and also make friends. and now with people who follow me because they like the things i make and less so me, something i now struggle with that i didn't used to in fandom is: do i follow people back? do these people see me as someone they want to admire and have a parasocial relationship with, or do they want to be friends? this post is a little bit of a PSA as well, i suppose: while i don't believe that everyone in fandom/who now follows me has this content creation mindset, i know there are people who do, and i don't know how to interact with strangers anymore. if you don't want me to interact with you and just want to admire me from afar, i want to respect that boundary. at the same time, i do like making friends. and i want to make friends with people who are just purely curious about me, not because i'm put on this parasocial pedestal.

i also don't think this is a problem with mdzs fandom specifically, or even necessarily just for fandom itself. i think a lot of spaces online have turned into this: where not only your social power but also your personhood, your identity starts and ends with how big the number next to your name is, and is an indicator to a stranger how humanizing you can treat them. make your private assumptions or judgments about me; i have no control over them so i don't care. but i am still a human behind the screen as much as you. i struggle with my day to day stuff as much as anyone else. and i want to make friends over that. i want to commiserate and bond with people; and while i won't pretend that i don't think there is a little more "influence" if the number next to your name is a bit bigger, i don't think it should detract from the reality that if someone has 30 followers or 3000, they are still human.

unless they're a bot.

but i'm also mostly making this post because let's face it: most of the friends i've made in any fandom, historically, have been either because i was a fan of their work, or they were a fan of mine. and that's what fandom is all about—an exchange, a conversation. why are we reinventing rigid hierarchies based on follower count? why should someone who likes my fics or someone whose fics i like be treated any differently, because of the role we play in this exchange? (and why should whose fanfic you enjoy say something about you as a person... but that's a different conversation lol) there are actual content creators i like, content creators who profit monetarily based purely on that, and the monetary profit is their primary motivator in having that label, that career in the first place. but that is not fandom, to me. fandom is not a job and i am not here to profit (all of my works and thoughts are free!), and in no way has money ever played a role in my existence in fandom. it is what it's always been: to make cool things and to meet cool people. and if nothing else, it's a bit disappointing to realize that not everyone feels the same.

anyway! tl;dr if you're interested in talking to me and being friends feel free to always reach out. i also know that my own response times can be spotty (another flaw of mine, alas) but i'm mostly making this post to say that i am not someone who thinks of myself as separate from my audience, and that my numbers/output mean very little to how willing i am to engage. i can get overwhelmed as much as anyone else, but in my heart if you're interested in a dialogue with me, then i am too. because that's what being in fandom is all about.

[medicinemane]

Sometimes I feel like I'm going crazy

You have... very very very very very very very very smart people you know, and they're say something that not only isn't true, but literally is as opposite of the truth as it's possible to be... and you'll... gently inform them "hey, it's actually a bit more like this" and then they just kinda... go on saying literally the exact same thing

I'm not sure if it's just that... I often feel like I must be very bad at communicating, or people must just not notice/ignore a lot of what I say, but... I don't know

Like dearest friend, you've said something as absurd as... I don't know, it's hard to say without saying it, but honest to god about as absurd as saying the United States was a part of the USSR, that level of completely getting it backwards

...and it just doesn't seem to matter when I try to explain it... I legit don't even know if you read what I said

Really end up feeling like I'm going nuts sometimes

[bisexualmaedhros]

transfem furries hornyposting online about the relatively niche/"out there" things they're into have inadvertently helped me accept myself more than the body positivity movement of the 2010s ever did

[noisytenant]

its small but it means a lot when folks ive spoken to reply to my posts sharing their thoughts/reactions. i think something i am finding is that little kindnesses can go a long way when you are struggling. to everyone who has expressed anything nice to me, an insane person on the internet, thanks

[icewindandboringhorror]

Apparently I can meet my goal of roughly 400,000 words in 6 months if I just somehow write at least 2,200 words a day ghbjh... Almost 2,500 today... huzzah...

[anothermonikan]

Ayo this you??

Context uH

A friend threw me into the uni discord and I was looking around to see if someone played Rain World (no results D:) BUT then your thingo came up ultrakill and I was like..mmm close enough

And then your only post was a Tumblr link

And the cogs in my brain were turning real hard and It took so much scrolling to find that video on the tag but LiKe

Hello???? You like robot??? Machine??? Have you heard of Rain World?? Massive city sized semi-organic supercomputer???

^^^ Live footage of me reading this ask on a tumblr break from my work

...Needless to say I'm never posting a tumblr embed in a discord server again ^^;

but yeah. hi! What I post on this blog stays here, no one outside of here and my immediate friend group knows about my little weirdo blog, welcome to the club! wahhahsdhshsasah

I've never heard of Rain World up until now! I did mayhaps. took a little peak through your blog. and looked at the steam page for the game and it definitely looks right up my alley, I don't know why I hadn't heard about it up until now!

I'll definitely have to check it out at some point! I'm trying (and failing miserably) to save towards smth right now, so mayhaps after the term ends ^^;

Thanks for the (Insane, I was literally sitting in the library head on hands after reading it) ask!

[solitaireships]

My challenge is always that I want to post more about my f/os but I never know what

[ceramicbeetle]

actually first ep of Voyager where Janeway talks to Tuvok about how his family misses him is that when she says they Worry about him Tuvok contradicts her and claims that Vulcans don't do that but when she corrects and says they Miss him he accepts this and admits he misses them too; implying perhaps a pedantic difference between 'Vulcans do not Feel Emotions' (false) and 'Vulcans do not Act Out of Emotion' (accurate) -> 'Miss/Longing' is an emotion, but 'Worry' is an action one does out of emotion -> one Vulcans do; one Vulcans do not.