#just-- i need a break from everything

[windydrawallday]

Lil' quick thank you doodle to the people that keep supporting me here and especially for these two rascals 💚

Not gonna lie: half of the past month was rough with me and made me put on hold a lot of stuff planned since the past year... years, idk anymore orz

I know is temporal but still, feels like time is only going thinner every moment I look back at all I did. I'm glad I have a hope barrel deeper than the sea abyss but, you know?

Is hella nice to be reminded that what I do is cherished and enjoyed!

[batcatsle]

the story of humanoid typhoon and the punisher

here we are on this platform too, heh

[crybaby-bkg]

“I’m terrified of trying those hitachi wands,” you offhandedly mention one night in a quiet laugh, while laying in bed beside Bakugou. you’re both on your phones, one last scroll before bed, even though he’s actually playing one of those old people games. he looks over, hair pushed back by a clip he stole from you.

“Why would you be scared?” he asks you, completes the last two moves of the game before he closes his phone and sets it on the table beside the bed. he turns all of his attention on you then, rolling over to his side to face you, and you do the same.

“Because those things are damn near weapons with how they render people useless for like, twenty minutes after they cum.” you snicker, thinking back on the video you had seen earlier in the day. the lady damn near ruined her phone with the wetness, and could hardly move for a good minute after.

Bakugou only stares at you, doesn’t say anything for a long while, but he has this look on his face. he’s thinking about something, but doesn’t open his mouth until he’s whispering,

“That’s crazy,” he kisses your forehead and mumbles an I love you before he rolls over and pulls the covers to his head. you only blink in confusion before you chalk it up to him being the shy little prude he’s always been, and lay down yourself.

the conversation goes forgotten as the weeks pass on, something you don’t dwell on much afterwards. but obviously, it hasn’t passed Bakugou’s mind at all.

“I got it in pink.” he tells you one night after he’s wined and dined you. that wasn’t anything out of the ordinary for him, but what was weird was how jittery he had been the entire time. this was why, surely, when he leads you to the bedroom and opens a neat little box with one of those wands you had completely forgotten about sitting prettily in front of you.

“Katsuki!” you laugh, hands covering your mouth before they cover your eyes in a mix of shame and shyness. “Why do you wanna see me laid out and twitching after using that thing?” you softly punch his shoulder, looking between his reddened cheeks and the wand he holds in front of you like an engagement ring.

“It’ll be hot.” he shrugs, mouth twisting this way and that in uncertainty, before he looks at you from under his lashes. “Wanna try it out?”

“Of course I do.” you answer back just as quickly, stripping from your clothes even quicker. it makes Bakugou laugh, taking his shirt off and his pants too, just to be safe in case you become a slash zone.

he tries it first with him sitting between your legs, just holding the wand there. he looks between your legs and then to your eyes, starting on a low setting and watches how you twist and thrive in the silken sheets. and when you cum, he thinks he can push you a little further.

he ups the vibrations, adds two of his fingers inside of you, crooking them until he finds that soft spot inside of you that makes you absolutely sob. you squirt all over him and he wonders if he should take his boxers off too (he doesn’t though; the thought of finding them tomorrow stained in you makes him damn near burst in his pants).

the next position is in front of your mirror on the closet, with your legs spread over his. Bakugou hooks his chin over your shoulder, holds your twitching thighs open as he keeps turning the vibrations up to the highest settings. you’re squirming and whining and whimpering for mercy, even though you cry even more whenever he stops.

the next time and the next time and the next, he’s got more fingers inside of you, his cock, another one of your favorite toys. he sets you in doggy style, even though he doesn’t fuck you, but keeps the wand between your legs. he likes the way your entire body shakes beneath him, collapsing, trapped between his weight and the strong vibrations that send you into another dimension.

the next day, you can barely feel between your legs, shaky and unstable for the whole day. but Bakugou makes up for it; he always does.

[fumifooms]

Chilchuck analysis speedrun: As a hardworking half-foot who grew up poor and discriminated against and had his gullibility taken advantage of multiple times in his early adventuring days, Chilchuck thinks optimism is a dangerous flaw. He’s stressed and strict all the time because his job is noticing details like traps that could get everyone killed before anyone knows it, he takes the lives of everyone to be on his shoulders, and with the way he speaks about it that probably partly reflects how he felt about taking it upon himself to provide for his family too. His life’s always been pretty centered around work and has become even moreso now that his wife left and everyone is independent, and due to past events he’s very iffy with bonding with coworkers. He thinks feelings and job are a disaster mix. Like with his wife or with parties hiring him as sacrifice, being open or having good faith is vulnerability which can get you hurt, so he processes and shows all his stress as anger instead of worry. Doing strict dieting probably isn’t helping the irritability what with hunger, and on top of being a hunger suppressant alcohol might be the main stress reliever he has.

His grey hairs are so earned

[junotter]

All the jokes about Ken and horses are good but I just wanna say it's such a good parallel to how actual young men get swept into misogyny and the patriarchy.

Like they're told to believe it means men get to be cool and manly and have this power but with that comes extremely rigid commands of what they can be as a man and a cycle of self hatred for never matching those gender roles perfectly. Patriarchy tells men that if they just do exactly what is expected of them, then they get all the "cool stuff" that comes with. That doesn't work though when there's only a small group that actually gets that power, but men will keep trying to fit into those roles in hopes that they can.

In the end there are no horses or the myth men are told, it's just endless cycles of self hatred and ingroup fighting.

[merakiui]

Absolutely love the possessive ex Scaramouche ramble in tags, please feed us more of that.

Gladly!! :D

(cw: yandere, extremely toxic ex scara, modern au, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, stalking, coercion, obsession, forced marriage, violent/suicidal threats, manipulation, mentions of intoxication/alcohol, implied self-harm)

The two of you were what everyone calls ‘high school sweethearts.’ You met him in the cafeteria when the both of you were first years. Despite the scowl etched on his face, he looked lonely sitting all by himself while everyone was finding tables, old and new friends gathering in groups. He’d ignored you, even scooting further away when you’d attempt to move closer. Even though he seemed so averse to you, you remained, silently eating your lunch. Neither of you said anything, but you did introduce yourself. He scoffed under his breath.

You started to sit next to him for every lunch, and he continued to give you the silent treatment. You never pressed him for conversation, instead choosing to enjoy silence while you ate and admired him from the sidelines. He never looked at you, always facing forwards and toying with his chopsticks, bending them so far until they were ready to snap. Eventually, he seemed to grow accustomed to this routine because many weeks into the semester he turned to address you.

“Why do you always sit by me? Don’t you have anyone else to bother?”

“Maybe. But I don’t think anyone’s as mysterious as you are.”

“‘Mysterious…’ Yeah, whatever.”

That seemed to be the catalyst because, as sardonic as he was, he’d begun talking to you. And it wasn’t long until he started to warm up to you every lunch until the both of you were exchanging lighthearted banter. Your friendship would only grow from this point onwards until, at the end of your first year during a study session to prepare for finals, where you were both pulling an all-nighter at your house, he’d asked you out. And you said yes, and the both of you had gone from best friends to lovers within the span of a year. The both of you were each other’s first partner, so it made doing things as a couple even more exciting because neither of you had any experience with dates or holding hands or kissing.

Kuni wasn’t a bad boyfriend. In fact, he was very loyal and sweet. He’d stand up for you if anyone was being rude to you or scrutinizing your relationship with hateful eyes. The two of you were nearly inseparable. When you weren’t spending time together in school, you were out doing things together. And when you couldn’t meet up in person, you’d text or call, sometimes talking late into the evening about all sorts of things. You were so immersed in him that you failed to notice the red flags slowly raising over time. But looking back there were a few notable ones.

He never invited you to his house. In fact, you’d never even met his parents, whereas he’d been to your home so often that your family practically became his own. He hadn’t mentioned anything about his family, and if you tried to suggest going to his house for dinner so that he could introduce you to them he was quick to change the subject. For a while you’d push this, more curious than concerned, but eventually you’d drop it when it became clear that he wasn’t going to divulge anything on the matter. That had stung, but you snuffed those feelings in favor of focusing on other aspects of your relationship.

The second red flag was just how clingy he became when the both of you were in your third year, having been together for two solid years. You never noticed it before because you loved him, but when friends had pointed out how attached he seemed—and it was to rather unhealthy levels, according to their observations—to the point where you were the only person he’d ever formed a bond with while at school you started to see the cracks in what felt like the perfect relationship. He’d text you every single day, at every single hour, all the time. He’d call you nonstop, even more so when you didn’t immediately pick up.

The third red flag coincided with the second. When you couldn’t make it to your phone, he was quick to blame himself and those around him for being responsible for your deteriorating relationship. Did I do something wrong? Are you mad at me? Did those guys bother you again? They probably told you some stupid shit about me, right? Don’t listen to them. Hey, you’re not mad, right? Call me back. I need to talk to you. Just text me when you can, okay? (Name), please don’t leave me. I’ll fix whatever’s wrong. Just promise you’ll stay. Messages of these kinds were what you could expect to receive from him. He’d fluctuate between self-loathing to loathing those around him within seconds, shoving blame onto classmates who’d bully him for being that “weird emo kid with too many piercings” and anyone else who tried to, in his words, “come between you and me.”

By the end of your third year, you started to fall out of love. He was so very dedicated to this relationship, evidenced by how much effort and care he’d put into it, but his clingy behavior was stifling. You’d lost some of your own friends because he chased them away, and it felt like you couldn’t do anything without him breathing down your neck. If you wanted to go anywhere with a friend or two, Kuni had to be there to accompany you. If you looked at another for too long, he’d think you were cheating. If you didn’t text or call him at certain times, if you failed to pick up, or—Archons forbid—you left him on seen, he’d spiral.

Kuni had this habit of sounding dangerously self-destructive when he feared you were being unfaithful or he thought you were going to break up with him, which meant you’d have to sit on the phone for hours convincing him that you loved him, that you’d never leave him, that you’d always be here for him, that you were sorry for not responding, that he needs to calm down and please, please, please don’t do anything rash. Those phone calls were always so stressful. You cried a lot; you’d beg him to put the knife away when he’d threaten to use it on himself, on you, on anyone who might try to take you from him. And, after a few hours of this, he’d be back to his usual self, as if a switch had been flipped. You could hear his adoring smile in his voice when he spoke, when he’d lovingly whisper into the phone, “I’m happy you’re mine. I love you so much.” And you’d shakily parrot the affirmation, too frazzled to say or do anything else.

One of your best friends Rosalyne, who you’d befriended in the midst of all of this, had been so supportive the minute you spilled the truth to her. Kuni hated her the most because she wasn’t afraid of him. Because she’d shut him down when he tried to pull you away from her. Because she wouldn’t approve of any of his toxicity. Rosalyne would take you on shopping sprees, brunch dates, and jogs at the local park. She was plenty of good to outshine Kuni’s bad, and the more time you spent with her the clearer your head would become. The both of you had plenty of sleepovers together, and she let you rant your heart out while she listened. She’d tell you to break up with him, but you’d agonized over how terrifying that would be. You couldn’t bear to tell Kuni the truth—that you wanted to separate because things had turned so rotten—because you were so scared. Scared of him and what he might do.

Scared that if he really did take a blade to himself it would be your fault. He told you that a lot. That it would be your fault if he did anything. That his blood would be on your hands. You believed him every time.

By your final year, you’d already had a plan for university outlined and you’d started applying to a few in advance. You never told Kuni about any of them because you worried he might apply to each one in hopes of going to the same school as you. And when there was the dance for the graduating class and Kuni had asked you to it, you’d told him you were going with Rosalyne and a few other friends as a group. He didn’t like this, as expected, but you’d been so sick of him and his behaviors that you snapped and spilled everything to him. You’ll never forget the look on his face when you told him that you were done with the relationship and that you never wanted to see him again.

He looked as if he could lunge at you and tear you to bloody ribbons at any moment.

You graduated single and so very refreshed, and your summer had been filled with friends. Kuni didn’t message you at all, which was surprising considering you were certain he’d spam you relentlessly after the break-up. But he never did. In fact, you never saw him again. Graduation had come and gone, and now that you could recover from such a terrible relationship he was becoming less of a burden for you. For a while you were anxious. You kept expecting to receive a phone call or to see some news about Kuni, but neither ever came. Rosalyne told you to stop thinking about him. It would only make you even more paranoid and that wouldn’t do your mental health any good. You were so grateful to have her in your life, but most importantly you were glad Kuni failed to scare her away.

Now you’re a second year in college and things have only gotten so much better for you. You and Rosalyne still keep in touch despite going to different schools. She’d gone to a university in Snezhnaya, while you enrolled in one in Sumeru, and you’ve blotted Kuni from your mind. You’ve made a fresh group of friends while attending classes: criminal justice major Shikanoin Heizou, creative writing major Kaedehara Kazuha, musical therapy major Venti, botany major Tighnari, and so many more wonderful people who have all welcomed you into their circles.

So when Venti drags a familiar face to your usual weekend outing, which is really just a retreat to the forest for drinking and smoking, creeping cold settles into your bones. He looks awkward with Venti’s arm slung around him as the more bubbly of the two drags him towards the bonfire, where you sit with the others roasting marshmallows for s’mores, and it’s a look that is so uncharacteristic on him. What’s even weirder is how friendly everyone greets him—as if they all know him—and you’re completely lost when they turn to you and ask if you’ve met Kunikuzushi.

“No,” you lie through your teeth, forcing a pleasant smile and extending your hand for a stiff handshake, which Venti snickers at. “No, I’ve never met him before.”

Apparently, he’s in one of Venti’s classes—it’s a course he’s taking solely because he needs the credits. Tighnari knows him because they usually work the same shifts at the campus café. Kazuha knows him from his linguistics and philosophy classes. Heizou’s ate with him in the dining hall plenty of times now and they’re also taking the same psychology class. It feels so genuine and yet so fake at the same time. Too perfectly manufactured to be a mere coincidence. But you do your best to push past these suspicions, and when he sits across from you, smiling at you and saying how nice it is to meet you, the warping flames paint his face in devilish shadows. That’s what you think he is when he acts like a completely different person from how he was when you dated: a devil who’s good at being kind and outgoing, noisy and abrupt, and always so foul-mouthed, but in a way that makes him charming. Your friends are so enthralled. They love him and his sense of humor. They love his quick wit. They love how fun he is. And suddenly weekends spent in the forest aren’t so enjoyable.

You do your best to overcome your doubts. For a few months you’re on edge. How he even found you is a mystery. Surely he wouldn’t stalk you and enroll in the same college just to get revenge or…whatever vengeance he wants from you. But when he treats you to coffee, when he brings you and the others pastries every other morning, when he invites the lot of you to study at the library, when he tells the funniest stories while crossed and everyone’s giggling like schoolgirls it really feels like he’s…healthier. Like he’s turned a fresh page in his life and is starting anew. Like he’s changed for the better.

Perhaps he just doesn’t remember you. You’ve changed your style over the years, so it’s possible he’s simply forgotten your image and can’t place memories to your name. Eventually, after soothing yourself with these theories, you begin to accept his presence in the group. He fits in so flawlessly, as if he’s a missing piece to the puzzle, and you can’t believe you’re admitting this, but you like this version of Kuni. He’s confident, not cocky. He’s kind, not rude. He gives everyone space. In fact, he rarely texts frequently in the group chat. And he’s funny! He’s so funny. You don’t think the Kuni from your past was ever as funny as the Kuni who regales everyone with lighthearted stories of how he once took in a stray cat that turned out to belong to his neighbor or how his old job had the strangest customers.

Maybe he truly did change. Maybe all of these coincidences really are coincidences. Maybe it’s for the best that you leave the past in the past.

Finals season looms, and the group hasn’t had time to meet up outside of class. Venti has tried to persuade everyone to come study at his apartment. His roommate won’t care (yes, he will. Xiao hates it when everyone gets blackout drunk and he has to wake everyone come morning), but if you’ve known Venti long enough you’ll know there is no studying that happens at these study sessions. This is probably the reason why he’s had to repeat a year.

With everyone’s schedules packed with academics, it’s difficult to find a time where everyone can get together to study. You think you might just be better off studying on your own, but Kuni’s message of you wanna pull an all-nighter for these lame af finals together?? accompanied with a photo of snacks and coffee, any thoughts of studying alone instantly vanish.

This is how you find yourself in his dorm, sprawled on his bed while he sits on the floor, whacking your dangling feet when they get too close to him. His roommate Albedo is currently out tutoring a few students at the library and won’t be back until much later, so it’s just you, Kuni, and a pile of textbooks and notes. You’ve hung out with Kuni a few times and he was great company during each. You’ve also fallen asleep in his dorm before, when you’d come over to binge a show the both of you enjoy, and you’d lost track of time and had slipped into a dream halfway through the marathon. You’d woken the next morning with Kuni looming over you, grinning deviously and holding an uncapped marker. He’d leaned down and whispered, “You drool in your sleep,” and you’d swatted at him and groused about how you were sleeping so peacefully when he just had to ruin your sleep (and your face) with his antics. And then there was that time when you were so drunk at that one party and you could hardly stand, he’d been there to help. He even stayed with you for the rest of that night, offering his assistance when you became nauseous or needed water or a snack until you passed out.

Despite your initial apprehensions, you consider him a friend. He’s no one nearly as close as Rosalyne or your other friends. He’s just a mutual friend, someone you’ll spend time with when you feel like it, but you don’t truly need him in your life. That, and part of you still struggles to trust him after all of the stress and unhealthy obsession he subjected you to.

“Kuni,” you whine, lifting your head from the textbook. “Can you get me some water? I’m thirsty.”

“Do I look like your maid?” he snaps, immersed in organizing his notes. “Get it yourself.”

“I’m picturing it now and you’re in a frilly dress and—”

“Forget I asked.” Setting his notebook down with an exaggerated sigh, he crosses the distance to the mini fridge and withdraws a bottle of water.

Grinning, you slide off of his bed and reach for it with a grateful hum. He smirks and takes a step back, holding it away from you.

“Seriously…”

Rolling your eyes, you lunge for it and he side-steps you with the practiced grace of a cat. You brace yourself against the wall and swipe at him. Again, he dodges, unscrewing the cap and shaking the bottle teasingly.

“I think I’ll take a sip for myself. All of this studying has left me so parched.”

“No fair! That’s mine!”

“Is it?” He pulls it away from his lips to observe the bottle and feigns surprise. “That’s weird. I don’t see your name on it.”

“Look closer!” you exclaim, but just as he’s about to humor you you pounce, tackling him to the ground—there’s a beanbag cushion that breaks your fall—and the water spills all over the both of you in the midst of the tumble. A slew of colorful words stick in Kuni’s throat and your laughter rings out melodiously. You seize his wrist and hold it down while reaching for the bottle in his other hand, where there’s still some water left. He struggles halfheartedly, relinquishing the bottle with a disinterested scoff, and you pull away from him to down what’s left.

While crushing the plastic bottle into a ball, you notice something on your palm—the palm that had grabbed Kuni’s wrist—and it takes a minute before the skin tone-colored substance registers in your mind.

Concealer.

You peer at him and notice that he’s cradling his arm, and confusion sprouts.

“So funny,” he spits with a hollow laugh. “You owe me a new beanbag if this one’s ruined.”

“Hey, hold on. What’s with the—”

“Forget it. You got your water, so let’s get back to studying. Or do you no longer want to be a perfect student?”

Without thinking, you grab his arm as he’s standing and when you look at his forearm you can see where the water’s started to wash the concealer away. Curiously, you scrub at it while he tries to yank his arm away, but when you unearth a dozen scars littering his wrist and climbing the length of his arm that creeping cold from before returns.

And suddenly you’re brought back to those phone calls—the ones where he’d threaten suicide and murder—and you stumble back as if you’ve been burned, half-expecting to hear those threats once more. Kuni’s staring at his wrist, his features twisted in grim disapproval, and for a moment you think he looks…hurt. Or maybe that’s sadness you see. Whatever emotion it was, it doesn’t linger because a quiet chuckle slips past his lips, and the sound is so very frigid it has your blood crystallizing.

“It really hurt when you said you never wanted to see me again.” Kuni peers down at you, and his eyes that had once been so bright and filled with light are dull and dark. “But nothing hurts more than loving you.”

You open your mouth to say something—anything—but the words won’t come. You’re rooted to the ground, horror slinking through your body and rendering you immovable. Your heart is in your throat, pounding so loudly it’s practically a drum, and a cold sweat washes over you.

“Each time I found myself hating you, I thought it was odd because I love you so much. I can’t possibly hate the one I’ve loved all this time.” He scowls. “But loving you hurts. Loving you feels like chewing glass and drinking poison. Loving you isn’t fair because while you moved forward with your ‘friends,’ I was forced to stay behind and pick up the pieces of what was left of you. So for every moment I couldn’t stand you, I tallied it on myself so that I’ll never forget the times I loved you so much I hated you.”

This can’t be happening, you’re thinking, curling your hands into trembling fists. He changed. He changed, right? This isn’t the same Kuni from before. This isn’t…

“And when I saw how well you seemed to be doing without me, I hated you even more.” Without warning, he’s grabbed your arm and hoisted you up. You open your mouth to scream, but no sound comes—not that anything could when he’s pulled a switchblade from his pocket and poised the pointed tip at your jugular. “You have poor taste in friends. Those guys suck.”

Tutting, he shakes his head at you like a parent might when scolding a child, and says, “Do you know how fucking tiring it was pretending? You think I care about pastries and stupid campfire stories? You really think I’d ever want to associate myself with that sorry lot?”

“K-Kuni, please let go of me. I… I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were—I’m sorry. So please just…”

“And then the first time you see me after all these years apart and you had the gall to lie to my face! ‘I’ve never met him before.’ Bullshit. You just didn’t want any of your loser friends to know our history, right? Because you’re ashamed to have known me, right?”

“That’s not it! I… I was just—I didn’t… I was… I just…”

“I… I… I…” he mocks, shoving you down onto the beanbag. It dips under the sudden weight, and you sink further into it when he points the blade at you. “Stop tripping over your tongue. I should be the one near tears! You cast me aside and then forgot all about me. You abandoned me when I needed you most.” His voice cracks at that last sentence, and your heart skips erratically.

“That’s not what happened! We needed space. I needed space. You were being too—” You stop yourself, unsure of how to phrase it. Too controlling? Too dangerous? Too scary?

“Lucky for you, I’m willing to overlook these past...slights.” The blade twirls effortlessly in his grasp, and you heave a relieved breath when he’s no longer pointing it in your direction. “Marry me and we’ll forget all about the past. We’ll start over.”

His demand almost stops your heart altogether. You stare up at him, mouth agape, and mumble a disbelieving, “What?”

“You heard me.” He seems to soften with his next words, and for a moment he looks and sounds like the Kuni who hangs out with you and your friends. The harmlessly fun Kuni who always takes such good care of you. “You’re the only one I’ll ever love, so let’s get married.”

“K-Kuni, I can’t... I really can’t...”

Within seconds the blade has found itself on his wrist, pressing into delicate flesh. Not enough to cut, but if he applies more force you’ll definitely see blood. You choke on a horrified gasp.

“What was that?” He raises his brow at you, challenging you with a calm smile.

Your mind reels in an effort to conjure a plan. What can you even do? If you take the blade from him, will he turn his anger on you? Will you have to wrestle him into submission? And if you do manage to get out of his dorm, will anyone believe you? He’s painted himself in such a pleasant light. Your friends love and trust him! So what can you say? And if there isn’t any solid proof, no one will even entertain bringing the authorities into this mess.

“I’m waiting, (Name). Are you really going to make me add another tally? Do you really want me to hate you again? Oh, but maybe I should start marking you! We can add a slice for each time you failed to love me. That way we’ll both look like used cutting boards.”

You need help, you want to say, but the words escape you.

Instead, you nod hastily and say breathlessly, “Okay, yes! I’ll marry you!” Swallowing your horror, you glance at the blade as it’s lifted from his skin. Thankfully, there isn’t a cut. “I... I’ll marry you, Kuni. So... So please don’t hurt yourself. Please.”

It feels like you’ve been strangled for an eternity, so when he finally pockets the blade the air in your lungs returns and you collapse against the beanbag, chest rising and falling in short, panicked breaths. 

“Good.” He bends down to your height, grips your chin with cold fingers, and forces you to meet his adoring stare. “We’ll look at rings tomorrow. Or maybe you’d prefer bracelets instead? I can be flexible but only for you, so you’d better be grateful.”

You swallow rising bile and nod. “T-Thank you.” You’re not sure why you’re thanking him when he hardly deserves it, but it feels like the right thing to say to ease the tension.

Kuni’s eyes sparkle, no longer a void of endless darkness, and when he leans in to capture your lips in his your heart sinks. You really can’t run from your past, can you?

[charmac]

How are you feeling about S17? I'm getting reaaal worried that it's going to be terrible. No Glenn in the writers room? A crossover episode?? Rob's gradual transformation into pondslime??? Help

Pondslime 😭Lmfao

I'm feeling more than fine about 17, really truly. I don't think anyone should be worried at all.

I think sometimes my interactions with Glenn come off a little more serious or abrasive than they really happened in real life (because we have to shout due to how loud it is in the bars), and my immediate transcription is just to get people *information*, which really doesn't convey tone.

For example, reporting that Glenn said "you don't want to know" in response to me asking for any teasers (as to plots this season) was met with a lot of "oh so this season is gonna suck" on Twitter, and that could not be further than the truth (sorry to the people I split-react blocked for saying that lol). In hindsight I get the reaction, because written out it's a response that can be easily misinterpreted and reads as potentially concerning, but know that when Glenn said "you don't want to know" he looked like this:

And when I was genuinely just asking for script information (regarding writers of individual scripts after he mentioned they had broken already) and mentioned Nina (Inflates) and Ross (DTAMHD), he gushed about both of them and then said, transcribed word for word, "It's been a good room, I'll say this it's been a great room. It's been an all-star room, it's been...like, breaking the stories this year has been really fun. [Me: Yeah?] Yeah. [That's great, that is great to hear.] It's been really fun."

So the idea of "no Glenn in the writers room" is really much more akin to Season 16 than 13/14. He was there to break stories (meaning he was in the room when they were brainstorming plot ideas and when they settled on which plots would be turned into scripts) but Rob and Charlie are taking the brunt of writing their (RCG's) scripts because of Sirens. This is the same thing that happened with The Gang Goes Bowling. Glenn's name is on the script, but Rob and Charlie wrote the majority of it while Glenn was shooting Blackberry. (I remember originally being convinced it was a mistake Glenn was listed as a writer for Bowling, lmfao). And Glenn is definitely still contributing, will be on revisions for the non-RCG scripts, and will classically change or improv whatever he thinks is best for Dennis when he's on set (see: the Risk E. Rats script).

Also, I know the crossover is concerning to a lot of people just given the nature of it, but as of what we know right now it's only on Abbott, so it's really just as if this season's The Gang Cracks the Liberty Bell or The Janitor Always Mops Twice took place on a different show instead of ours...

I promise promise promise Glenn was clearly holding his tongue for good things coming up, and Friday night very much restored my confidence that Season 17 will be good. (But..if you don't think Glenn has good contributions to Sunny or understands the agenda, then sorry this response probably sucks lmfao)

[skunkes]

that "i wish that being aware of a mindset being ridiculous would make it easier to snap out of it" post hitting hard every single day

[borderlinereminders]

Without fail, every time I post a positive post about it being okay to have feelings (anger, sadness, etc), someone always has to comment “yeah but it doesn’t give you the right to treat people poorly because of them.”

No one said it did. And I understand the sentiment but it just rubs me wrong for some reason and I’m not sure why.

I think that even with good intentions, it just rubs me wrong because I’m a BPD blog so maybe it feels like someone is making an assumption even if they’re not intending to?

I don’t know. I don’t want to add a disclaimer to every one of my posts and I’d like to just post positivity without the negativity added because it’s exhausting to read.

Also don’t get me wrong. People have a right to express opinions. I’m just needing to vent because I’m having feelings about it.

[storge]

I wanted to kill you. I really wanted to. So why… why did I not? I wonder. Rather than wanting to kill you, why was I more worried that you would never wake up? That's because… I do not consider life that valuable yet. No. That was not why. I wanted to ask you… what I should do now? I cannot even kill you anymore. How am I supposed to live now? You are the only one who tells me to survive. You told me to live dreaming of the day I would kill you. My enemy, who risked his life to protect me, might know how to go about it.

Moon in the Day (2023) 1.07

[manasurge]

Your custom fanspec... tell me about it 👀

:BLUSHYSMILEYCATEMOJI: hehehe well, it is mostly done, it just needs the polishing up for proper posting display with the accompanied drawn diagrams and colour coding (also it's quite old at this point, started working on it a year ago and wanted to work on lore stuff so I put it on hold, so the doodles look kinda bad but oh well alsjdfsdfj). The one main thing I just have to make her Reformed Mordrem minions to display the rest with the little visual diagrams, but I can post what I have done here so far <3 (this is actually the first time I've posted the updated state of this WIP since I last talked about it last year lskjfs. So sorry in advance if some of this seems janky as I haven't gone over it in a hot minute) Note: I also wanna redo the icon thing to be more of an eye instead of the lotus since it makes more sense literally and thematically and to just try to make it look better in general. For context my OC Mourynn/Vallotash (same person kinda) is Mordremoth's (parasitic) Scion in a weird imposter (syndrome) situation (leaving that bit out for now), and her whole thing was inspired by the ??? area in Jahai bluffs with the one quote that inspired her existence "Are you a dragon dreaming that it's a hero? If you were, how would you know?", where the area also matches her colours thematically too, and why her Mesmer abilities all revolve around hallucinations and tapping into the "Dragon of mind/plant, roots/madness, etc." where the spec also evolves slowly over time as she develops, but it does get amped up during LS1 with Scarlet being responsible for kickstarting it (as she brainwashed Mourynn to help cultivate the Dreamthistle into the Toxic Offshoots, and from there with HoT and so on as things got worse and this just evolved into it's own thing, haha). Super abridging explanations (and badly lol) since I feel that part with the Toxic Alliance and those spores were an important step towards this becoming what it is. Also I still need to decide on names for some things, but oh well ;w; ANYWAYS! Mourynn's custom Mesmer elite spec (WIP):

[crybaby-bkg]

Arranged marriage AU with Barbarian Bakugou who is so daunting to be around at first. He’s all gruff curses and broad shoulders and scarred cheeks and neck and jaw. He scowls constantly, stares at you while your parents auction you off like some show pig, but doesn’t say much to you besides a grunt of his name. You’re terrified, thinking that he’ll be cruel to you, that you’re being set up for a life full of unhappiness and terror and regret.

But he’s the exact opposite. Bakugou is gentle in ways a man of his size typically wouldn’t be, but he shrinks himself for you. Not in a way that diminishes his status as the newly appointed king, but to respect you, show you that you’re beside him instead of behind him.

He picks you berries on his hunts because he knows the smell of a fresh kill brings nausea to your stomach. You find him along with the other maidens and helpers around his village, sitting beside them, big fingers holding tiny little flowers that he weaves into a crown for you. When he sets it on your head, he purses his lips, mutters something under his breath in his language that you’re still not too familiar with, but sure it means something along the lines of pretty and soft.

And when he finds you bathing in the river only few have access to, he’s sweet the whole time. Doesn’t make a spectacle of you being naked, and is relieved when you don’t instantly cower when he wades his way over to you. You try not to stare at the clawed scars that decorate his pec and jaw when he stands above you, and it helps when he suddenly dumps water all over your head. He shushes you when you splutter, continues on with cupping his hands and letting the water run off of your hair and down your shoulders, scrubbing at your skin until your flesh squeaks. He doesn’t expect you to do the same for him, but he hums in satisfaction when you push him down a little lower so you can wash the crown of his head.

[erosology]

y’all expecting us to spoon-feed you content but not bothering to interact with us on a human-level is a big reason why your faves don’t hang out here anymore just sayin

[daylighteclipsed]

Blaming KH2 Sora’s anger and aggression all on Roxas really downplays how ready to throw hands Sora is in KH1 and CoM.

[cacaocheri]

this is like. worlds lamest post but uhh I am taking a break from tumblr for a while! :^) not sure how long I'll be gone but yeah just in case anyone was wondering <3

[purple--queen]

Kaiba trying to mainpulate Yugi/Yami like "If you win I will totally fall down this castle" & Yami is just "Well shit happens. Watch if I care" & Yugi is just having a crisis