#I love that no one sees me as a friend and just an extra

[missfertileandferal]

lowkey super anxious to post this but im missing you guys so much <3

i plan on a solid return soon! i just wanted to get off my chest whats been going on:

Earlier this year, I dealt with an awful situation of my kinky stuff leaking into real life. My insane coworkers found my content and as I was serving on the clock, proceeded to show my customers and all the staff. then i was fired. Im traumatized to say the least but I over came it.

Come mid summer, I planned so step back for a little bit to move apartments no more than a couple weeks. What happened was both my job (i worked with close family friends so stressful) and a really bad situation with a companion found about my kink stuff. i never expected or was prepared for the humiliation, deception, and pain that would come from my fetish journey

My last job was such a loss. I had been blessed with a cute job as a medical office assistant without any credentials (i wasnt doing anything out of my capabilities of course) it was so peaceful and perfect compared to the drama of my last gig plus working with familiar people felt just like home honestly. Then I got covid. I was out for 2 weeks, at the same time i was moving into my new place. I tried calling them back to let them know I was cleared and ready to get back to work. I received a humiliating text. I was dismissed. That turned into a crippling anxiety of them confessing to my family what I do in my past time

The following week I was met with more disappointment. Ive said this before but I dont have many people in my corner. It used to suck to admit but I stand with pride now knowing those who are around me love me 100% regardless what I do or dont do.

One of my dearest dearest friends, who I had previously communicated what I do (not to a full extent they always respected it) called me very dramatically only a week before I planned to see them (they live across the country and we ALWAYS visit each other when in our cities) It still doesnt feel real tbh, the call only last 40 seconds. I was informed that “I was going on the wrong path” and could no longer be associated with. That’s alls that happened. 8 years down the drain

I was informed by outside sources that my hometown opps had gotten hold of my content (who my ex friend still associate with but I despise bc they’ve always been obsessed with me but in a bad way) and they had confronted him about being my friend. he pussied out and cut me off. they also mass reported my last instagram account😡🤬

I had to take some time back to seriously debate if these loses were worth it. I was swallowed with so much anxiety knowing that an uncomfortable amount of people in my zip code knew what ive been up to. its already complicated being into this and while at the same time not being in a plus size body. thats another conversation tho

That debate has turned into me accepting these events as the universe weeding out people/things that no longer serve me. This has shown peoples true colors, if I am not to be associated with because of my sexual freedom, body acceptance, and undoing of fat phobia then PLEASE LEAVE ME ALONE.

Im recovering ❤️‍🩹 but my heart and hedonism can’t be helped. i love being a kinky lil gut slut. its helped me grow in so many ways from acceptance to living an esoteric dreamy life. i love all the hot girls and guys that i see on my timeline. they hype me up and vise versa. i love this little corner of the internet. my fellow freaks keep me going. i’ve been so on and off online but every time i come back to the sweetest words and support. thank you guys for your patience and consideration

my anxiety is to the roof as im typing. its crazy that these privacy problems havent been within the actual community. funny. if your still reading this I love you extra. ill be streaming on ig on my comeback day!

new ig acc @missfertileandferal💘

[sturniqlo]

! MATT STURNIOLO MASTERLIST !

SYMBOLS: smut * | fluff 𐙚 | angst 𖤐 | authors favorites $ | social media fics/includes ꩜

REMINDERS: pls dm, comment, or inbox me if any of my links do not work!

DISCLAIMERS: i rarely proofread my works so, sorry about any grammar mistakes or misspelling. i do not consent for my work to be copied or republished! please give credit for any inspiration.

CHRIS STURNIOLO MASTERLIST

FICS/BLURBS

SUPERSTAR𐙚꩜$ | PT2𐙚꩜$: a look into matt dating famous!yn in a social media pov BLURB

JEALOUSY𖤐𐙚: where bsf!matt gets jealous knowing his best friend y/n is talking to someone that's not him. BLURB

IN BETWEEN𖤐𐙚$: with their usual bickering, Y/n and Chris escalate into a heated argument and Matt has to break up a fight between his girlfriend and his brother

POLAROIDS: it's your wedding and your bridesmaids give matt a spicy polaroid picture of your throughout the night. SUGGESTIVE MATERIAL

SHRUNKEN LAUNDRY𐙚: matt loves doing the laundry, and y/n finds out she's pregnant what better way to tell him than using the laundry BLURB

FIRST DATE𐙚$: the one where matt grows the courage to ask his coworker out on a date and he plans the perfect first date

A BROKEN PROMISE𖤐: matt and y/n have been a long distance couple for five months ever since matt moved to LA with his brothers, the two grow distant and decide to part ways, promising to wait for each other. when he eventually moves back, he sees that she broke the promise

WE MAKE THREE𐙚$: the day stepdad!matt gets called 'dad' by y/n's son for the first time after two years.

JUST A TASTE*: matt the munch BLURB

THE MOVE*: y/n and matt, once former classmates, reunite when both of them move down the street from each other and become closer than ever

2 STRESSED MINDS𖤐$𐙚: y/n, a current college student, is caught up with studying before her finals start. and she's stressed to say the least. matt and his brothers make a mess as they filmed their video and y/n promises to clean the mess, what happens when a stressed out matt gets home and the mess isn't cleaned up?

KISS IN THE KITCHEN | PT2*: both matt and y/n find themselves in the kitchen at two in the morning alone. BLURB

PRETTY GIRL𐙚$꩜ | EXTRA꩜: where matt slides into singer!y/ns dms not knowing she would respond back, and it leads into something more.

SERIES/COLLECTIONS

MIA: a collection of dad!matt and mom!reader blurbs with their babygirl mia.

HEADCANNONS

HIS TWO GIRLS𐙚$: dad and husband!matt with his wife and daughter

OTHER

MATT AND CHRIS P!LINKS

[alisonwritesimagines]

Picture Perfect ~Batmom Imagine~

Summary: Damien wants to take the perfect photo for you.

Author’s Note: Posting this from my drafts because it is time for it to come out of hiding.

BatFam Masterlist

Reader’s Pronouns: She/Her

Warnings: none, fluff

Do not repost this anywhere!

"Dick, sweetie. Please go tell Damian that he's going to be late for school. He's been upstairs for a while," you tell your oldest son as you tried to feed Martha.

"On it!"

Dick found Damian standing in front of the bathroom mirror, combing his hair to his idea of perfection.

"Damian. Mom said you're going to run late for school," Dick tells him.

“I wanna look good for picture day for Ummi,” Damien tells Dick.

“You know mom will love your pictures no matter what.”

“I know that but I want this to be extra special. After she had Martha, she’s been busy,” Damien explains.

“You know mom loves us no matter what. Sure she may be busy with Martha but that’s because Martha’s a newborn. She needs the attention at the moment. But you know mom will give you attention again soon.”

“Yeah. I know.”

“Just make sure you’re in the car in ten minutes,” Dick told Damien.

“Of course.”

“You look so handsome, Damien!” You tell your son as he rushed down to the kitchen. “Cassandra, honey. Your ballet is divine but please be careful.”

“Sorry mom.”

“Have a good day at school, Damien! I look forward to seeing your pictures when we get them!” You smile sweetly at him.

“It’ll be the best you’ll have,” Damien tells you as he rushed out of the house with a bagel.

The moment Damien stepped into the school, he felt victorious. He succeeded in going into school without messing up his hair. That was until a student tripped and spilled their water bottle onto Damien.

——

His picture was anything but perfect. Damien handed you the framed photo before looking down in shame.

“Aw. I love it!” You chirped happily as you hugged Damien.

“You do?” Damien asked, looking up at you surprised.

“Trust me Damien. I have at least one awkward photo of all my children and you have added to my collection,” you say as you kissed his head.

“You really like it?” Damien asked you.

“If you want to do a redo picture, that’s fine with me. But I will be keeping this one no matter what,” you tell him.

“So when Martha has an awkward photo…”

“I’ll keep that one too. As long as I continue to have photos of my children, I’ll love them all.”

“I’ll do something even more special for you to make up for this!” Damien promised.

“And I look forward to it. But for now, let’s go ahead and hang this up,” you tell Damien as you put it with your other children’s pictures on your wall. You admired the photo before looking back at Damien.

“As long as I have pictures of you all, I don't mind how they look," you tell him.

---

“Come on. What’s taking so long?” Tim asked as he walked into Martha’s room.

“Martha doesn’t want to wear the bow!” Stephanie tells him.

“Come on Martha. Put on the pretty bow. Please,” Tim asked. Martha stared up at her older brother as she shook her head.

“What’s going on?” Damien asked as he walked into the room.

“Martha doesn’t want to put on the bow,” Tim said.

“Let me try. Come here Martha. Let’s put on the bow,” Damien said as he put the headband on his little sister. Martha smiled up at her older brother before reaching up for him to hold her.

“Why does she like you more?” Stephanie asked.

“Because I spend more time with her. Now let’s hurry. Mom and dad will be home soon and I want this photo to be perfect."

Your birthday was always celebrated lavishly. Bruce would fly in your closest family and friends for a dinner and anything else you wanted to do. So Damien thought this would be the perfect time to make up that horrible picture he took for picture day. As well for his siblings to also make up their own awkward school photos.

“Thank you Bruce for throwing me my birthday party. And thank you all for coming and celebrating with us,” you say out loud to everyone at your party.

“We would actually like to surprise our mom with a present gifted to her by her children,” Dick announced after you. You and Bruce looked at them as the kids brought in a wrapped gift.

“From us to you Ma. Happy birthday,” Jason said. You opened up the gift to see a framed photo of all the kids dressed in suits and dresses with a smile on their faces. You teared up as you stared at the photo.

“I love it!” You say.

“Now you can have all of us in one picture,” Damien said.

“I love it. Thank you sweetie,” you tell him as you kiss his head.

“We also took some individual photos to make up for our awkward school pictures,” Tim mentioned as he handed you another present.

“Thank you. I love it so much,” you say as you cried from happy tears.

Bonus:

“Come on you guys! Damien promised me we’d go to the arcade after this,” Martha said as she dragged two of her older siblings into the room.

“Sorry! Traffic was bad,” Tim said as he stood in between Jason and Damien.

“Remember how Martha didn’t want to put in her bow until Damien asked nicely?” Stephanie asked Tim.

“Those were the good ol days,” Tim sighed.

“Alrighty! Ready?” Cassandra asked.

“Perfect! Okay kids. Smile right over here,” the photographer said before taking the picture of the batkids.

It had been a tradition for the kids to take a picture all together every year for your birthday present. It was to show how each of them have grown over the years. No matter what was going on, each batkid had agreed to meet up one day a year with no excuses to take the photo for you.

"I think this is our best one yet," Damien said as he looked at the photos.

"Aright, see you all next year," Jason joked as he walked out.

"Come on! We gotta go!" Martha told Damien.

"Okay. Okay."

[purplestanleypinkblanket]

Dad's Bestfriend:

18+ (Implied Smut)

Pairings: (DP3 Vers.) DBF! Logan Howlett x Reader

Summary: After Wade insisted Logan make some friends, he had met your father- a local brewer. With the common interest of beer, Logan found himself friends with your father. And while at your father's apartment, you show up, sending Logan into quite the spiral. This takes place over a time span of a few months.

Warnings: Dads best friend logan, x reader, implied smut (therefore 18+), self-deprecation from logan, swearing, obsessed logan, reader is 19.

Genre: Pure and utter angst. Implied smut at the end.

Word Count: 1,918.

______________________________________________________________

Logan had met your father a few weeks ago after Wade's insistence he get out of the apartment. No doubt Wade wanted Logan to get some pussy, but he'd much rather settle for a friend over a meaningless moment with a woman who'd barely understand what he'd need. If Logan had known that meeting a brewer would mean sitting on the man's couch while his daughter asked for help with her car...Logan would've made sure to stay far away from the brewer.

"Hey, dad?" You asked, entering the living room, a frown on your lips.

"Hm?" Your father looked up at you, sipping at his beer.

"My car started making a weird noise yesterday, I was wondering if you could help me take a look?" With a nod, your dad had set his beer down and gathered the supplied for your car. It was only after your dad moved did you see the man in a white shirt and denim jeans. Logan watched your eyes widen slightly at the sudden revelation of him. He had no idea how to react, should he say hi? His lips thinned slightly but before he could murmur a greeting, you spoke first. "Hey, I'm-..." He spaced out the rest of your greeting, too distracted by how quickly your laid-back attitude became one of shyness. Logan watched your hands fiddle with each other, your hoodie sleeved covered in oil and grease from when you no doubt tried to fix your car by yourself.

It had been at least a month since your first introductions, and each time your father and Logan hung out, you always had some excuse to show up. "My car. My bank. I got extra food and was wondering...." Were some of the excuses you used when you'd randomly show up at your fathers' door in an outfit that was much more eye catching than the last. Some days it was a dress, or a pair of jeans, or a skirt. Logan's favorite was when you'd show up in your gym clothes, though. He loved how your scent mixed with dried sweat as it wafted into the building. Logan found himself deeply inhaling your scent as much as he could before you'd eventually leave. He was certain he'd be able to pick you out of a crowd with just a smell.

A few months later, Wade had discovered your existence after your father flashed a photo of you to him and Logan, a proud smile on his lips.

"Aint my girl smart?" Your dad was fishing for complements about you. He knew you were smart, he just wanted to show his friends his daughter that, at the ripe age of 19, was slowly making a name for herself in her chosen career field. After yapping about you for a minute, your father had excused himself to the bathroom. Wade took the opportunity to flash a knowing grin to Logan.

"I see why you like this new friend of yours so much."

Logan found himself scowling, nose scrunching, as he recalled Wade's smug ass grin. How dare he insinuate he stayed in your father's company for any other reason than enjoyment. He sat in the seat at a ridiculously fancy bar, hidden by shelves and customers, as he watched you seated at a table- wearing the nicest dress he's seen you wear- across from a man who told you about his life aspirations. You seemed engaged with the conversation, but Logan could sense the boredom behind your chipper eyes. If he was at that table with you, you wouldn't be bored. Hell, he wouldn't even have taken you here. It was a waste of money, and for what? To appear wealthy? Logan knew you wouldn't order anything but a salad anyway. You were a damned rabbit when it came to greens. Logan once watched you eat an entire by yourself in one sitting all because 'It tastes good.'

His scowl only deepened when he saw the man's hand slide across the table, moving towards yours. Logan had to physically restrain himself from storming over there and yanking that man away from you. How dare he have the audacity to touch you. Logan's fists clenched against the bar top, turning a searing white as he felt anger well in him. But it wasn't just anger coursing through his veins. It was shame, and guilt. It would be wrong of him to interrupt your date; to take you home and never let you leave his arms. Logan knew it was wrong, because you were too young. 19, for god's sake. Too sweet, too innocent, too pure. That didn't stop the temptation to take you for his own, to ruin you and mark you as his. It didn't stop his growing feelings for you. Logan watched as you smiled at the man across form you, it was a kind smile. One Logan wished you would flash his way just one more time.

Your date walked you home, Logan not too far behind. He told himself he was just making sure that nothing bad happened. Your father would be heartbroken if his little angel got hurt, after all. As a mutant who can keep you safe, it was Logan's responsibility to make sure his friend's daughter wasn't ever hurt. However, when your date leaned in to press a kiss to your lips, you leaned back, head turned to the side, so he'd kiss your cheek instead.

Logan felt time freeze when your eyes landed on him, confusion clear in your eyebrows as they furrowed. His gaze shifted from you to the man pressing a kiss to your cheek. Logan felt his jaw clench at the sight, at the audacity. He took a threatening step forward. Sensing the growing tension of a possible altercation, you murmured something to your date as he pulled away. Logan's heightened hearing caught the ending of an apology. As your date walked away, Logan made his way to you, nose scrunched in disapproval.

"What would your father say? Dating a scum bag like that." He spoke cruelly.

"He wasn't a scum bag." You defended your date because even if he wasn't your type, he was still a nice guy. Logan scoffed with a roll of his eyes.

"Sure he wasn't."

"Logan."

"...."

"What're you even doing here?" You sighed after a minute of silence, gesturing for him to follow you into your apartment. Logan shut the door behind him as he followed you in.

"I was in the area."

"No, you weren't." You could smell the alcohol on him, so you raised an eyebrow at him. When he didn't respond, you walked over to him, taking a deep whiff of him. "You smell like expensive, overcompensating liquor and flowers that should be out of season." The exact smell of the restaurant you were at. He silently hoped you'd stay beside him a little longer.

Logan released an annoyed huff about getting caught. He watched as you rolled your eyes in annoyance before slipping away from him and towards the kitchen.

"If my dad set you up to this Logan-"

"He didn't." Logan was quick to interject as he followed after you.

"Then why're you here?" You snapped, guilt immediately following it. "Logan, I'm not a kid, I don't need to be looked after." You sighed softly; it was exhausting always being seen as this child that couldn't do anything for yourself while also being told that you're an adult and you 'need to grow up.'

"I know." Was all Logan could get out. He felt so ashamed for following after you on your date. He knew you were too young for him. How could a sweet, beautiful, kind, young thing like you ever be interested in a fuck up like him?

"Have you eaten yet?"

Logan didn't respond, only looking up to see your cold gaze had softened. He shook his head with a grunt, watching as you moved towards your fridge.

"All I've got is a frozen peperoni pizza, is that alright?" You asked, pulling the frozen pizza from your freezer. You cast your gaze behind him, head titled as you waited for a response. Logan felt a lump form in his throat as he nodded. You were making him food? You were supposed to be mad at him, he practically stalked you! He treated you like a child! He....-

"Logan." Your voice broke him from his thoughts. "It's going to take like 18 minutes, okay?"

Logan nodded; it was all he could get out.

Sighing softly, you shook your head, "Look, I'm going to go change. Feel free to make yourself comfortable." You began to walk away, moving past Logan who was quick to grab your wrist.

"Wait."

Confusion filled your face once again as you turned to look at him, your eyes gliding from his hand on your wrist to his eyes. "What...?"

Logan's lips pursed as he thought of something, anything, to say. He had never been very good as expressing his emotions, no matter how much he wanted to try. He wanted to tell you how beautiful you looked, how he always thought you were beautiful. Logan wanted to tell you that he was scared of saying that he found himself wanting your attention. Of the guilt and shame, he felt because of your age gap. He begged you to understand how much he felt for you. How whenever you walked into the room, his breath caught in his throat. How ever since he met you; he hasn't been able to think of anything else but you. How he imagines your hands hugging him, of your lips kissing him, of holding you while you binge watched those movies you loved. He knew so much about you, just from watching you, but he wanted you to tell him this stuff. He wanted you to tell him why your favorite desert was crème brûlée. He wanted to see the bright expression on your face as you described your favorite things.

He wanted to fall in love with you.

The two of you remained there, hand on wrist, invisible barrier between the two of you. One move and the relationship you built would be ruined. The divide that labeled you as 'daughter of his friend' and 'dads' friend' would be ruined. Logan didn't care, his jaw clenched as he tried to figure out what to say. He crashed his lips to yours, it was rough, desperate, filled with longing for you to understand what he was trying to say. Please, was the most prominent feeling you could sense in the kiss. Please, love me.

Time froze around you, eyes wide as you tried to decipher the situation. However, it began to pick up once you decided. Your hands wrapped around his neck, holding him close as his slipped around your waist. The desperate, longing kiss turned into a soft, gentler version, as if he was relieved that you had reciprocated his advance. Logan could feel the tension in his body relax just slightly, it was a dream, it had to be. But your hand raking through his hair, your other one cupping his face, it told him it was reality. He would savor this moment. Logan would relive it for forever as he pulled soft, needy whimpers from your lips throughout the night. He was determined to treasure you, to shower you with love.

"I'm yours." Your voice floated through the air; the last words spoken for the evening.

[writeriguess]

instead talking about Bakugou a little older than the reader? he in comparison has had a lot of experiences compared to her, but she in fact feels insecure about this, and would like some reassurance, but at a certain point Bakugou has a fit of jealousy and at that point she makes him understand how much he loves her, it would be too cute🎀 (+smut) THANKS

You had always admired Bakugou Katsuki from afar. His fiery personality, his unrelenting drive, and his overwhelming confidence made him impossible to ignore. Now, being with him felt like a dream—but sometimes, that dream turned into insecurity. After all, he was older, more experienced, and you often found yourself wondering if you measured up.

You sat at the edge of the bed, fidgeting with your fingers. Bakugou was pacing the room, towel draped over his neck after a long, hard day. His messy blond hair was still damp from the shower, and the muscles in his back flexed with every movement. As you watched him, the words that had been bothering you for days finally tumbled out.

“Katsuki… you’ve been with more people, right?”

His movements froze mid-step, and he turned to look at you, brows furrowing in confusion. “Huh? Where’s this coming from?”

You lowered your gaze, unsure of how to voice the insecurities swirling inside you. “It’s just… you’ve done a lot. Been with people, had more experiences. And I’m just—well, I feel like I’m behind. What if I’m not enough for you?”

His eyes softened, but there was a fire flickering behind them. In a few quick strides, he was standing in front of you, towering over your smaller frame. He lifted your chin with two fingers, forcing you to meet his gaze.

“Are you kidding me?” Bakugou’s voice was low, almost a growl. “You think I care about any of that?”

You blinked, the knot of anxiety in your chest loosening just a little. “I mean, you’ve done so much already, and I’m just… I don’t know, Katsuki. I feel like you deserve someone who’s on your level.”

His scowl deepened, but this time it wasn’t directed at you. “Tch, you’re an idiot sometimes, y’know that? You think I’m with you for your ‘experience’?” He crouched down to your eye level, his intense crimson eyes burning into yours. “I’m with you because you’re you. Don’t need anyone else, don’t want anyone else. Got it?”

You felt your heart swell at his words, but before you could fully process the warmth, Bakugou’s expression darkened, and he stood back up.

“Wait… is that why you’ve been talkin’ to that extra from your class? The one always hangin’ around you?” His fists clenched, and you could practically see the jealousy bubbling up in him. His jaw tightened as if just the thought of it made his blood boil. “You think you need someone like him instead of me?”

Realization hit you like a ton of bricks. He wasn’t mad at you. He was jealous. Bakugou, for all his confidence and bravado, was actually worried about losing you.

“Katsuki, no,” you said, standing up and grabbing his arm. His muscles were tense, but you held on firmly. “He’s just a friend. No one comes close to you. No one could ever replace you.”

He turned his head away, still refusing to meet your eyes, but you could tell his resolve was cracking. You stepped closer, wrapping your arms around his waist and pressing your cheek to his chest. The steady thump of his heartbeat filled your ears.

“I love you, Katsuki,” you whispered against his skin. “You’re all I need. I’m sorry if I ever made you doubt that.”

Bakugou’s hands hesitated before they finally settled on your hips, pulling you closer to him. His grip tightened as if he was scared to let you go.

“I’m the one who’s supposed to say that,” he muttered, his voice softer now. “I love you, idiot.”

The vulnerability in his tone made your heart flutter. You tilted your head up, capturing his lips in a tender kiss. He responded immediately, his hands sliding up your back, his lips demanding yet gentle against yours. The kiss deepened, and you felt yourself being backed up against the bed, your legs hitting the edge.

“Katsuki…” you breathed out as he guided you down onto the mattress, his body hovering over yours.

His eyes darkened with desire, the jealousy from earlier replaced by an intense need to remind you just how much you meant to him. He kissed you again, this time with more urgency, his lips trailing down your neck, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. His hands roamed over your body, fingertips pressing into your skin as if he was trying to memorize every inch of you.

“You’re mine,” he murmured against your collarbone, his voice rough with need. “No one else gets to touch you. No one else gets to see you like this.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine, and you arched your back, pressing yourself closer to him. “I’m yours, Katsuki. Only yours.”

Bakugou’s lips crashed against yours again, his hands sliding under your shirt, fingers tracing the curves of your body. You gasped as his touch ignited a fire inside you, and before you knew it, your clothes were discarded, leaving you bare beneath him.

He paused for a moment, his gaze raking over your body as if he was trying to commit the sight to memory. “You��re perfect,” he whispered, his voice barely audible, but the sincerity in it made your heart skip a beat.

You reached up, cupping his face in your hands. “Katsuki… I love you.”

His eyes softened, and for a moment, you saw the vulnerable side of him that he rarely showed anyone. He leaned down, kissing you softly before whispering against your lips, “I love you too.”

Katsuki’s hands were anything but steady as he started fumbling with the buttons of your blouse. His fingers, usually so sure and precise, trembled slightly in a way that was endearing—like even he was nervous despite how confident he usually seemed. You could feel the heat radiating from his body, his eyes locked onto yours as his brows furrowed in frustration.

“Damn thing,” he muttered, his impatience getting the best of him.

You chuckled softly, reaching up to still his hands. “Here, let me help,” you whispered, your fingers gently brushing against his. His gaze softened for a moment, and he watched as you slowly undid the rest of the buttons yourself.

As the fabric parted, revealing more of your skin, Katsuki’s eyes darkened with an intensity that made your pulse quicken. He slid his hands over your now exposed skin, his touch sending sparks of warmth through your body. You shivered, not from the cold but from the electric connection that pulsed between you.

“Katsuki,” you breathed his name, drawing him closer as your blouse slipped off your shoulders, landing softly on the floor. His mouth found yours again, but this time, his kiss was slow, deliberate, like he was savoring every second. His hands moved to your waist, fingers digging into your skin just enough to remind you of the possessiveness he had over you.

“Don’t know why you worry so much,” he murmured against your lips before kissing down your jawline to your neck. “You’re all I ever want.”

His words melted your insecurities, and you tilted your head back to give him better access. Each kiss, each graze of his teeth against your skin, sent a wave of warmth coursing through you. Your fingers tangled in his messy blond hair, pulling him closer as his lips moved lower.

“You’re perfect, you hear me?” Katsuki’s voice was rough, breathless, his jealousy from earlier forgotten as his focus shifted entirely to you. “No one else could ever come close to making me feel like this.”

You couldn’t help but smile through the haze of warmth and desire that clouded your mind. “You always know what to say, Katsuki.”

His response was a low growl of approval, his lips grazing your collarbone as his hands roamed lower, exploring the newly exposed skin. Every touch, every kiss, reaffirmed what you already knew: you were all he wanted, just as he was all you needed.

Katsuki’s lips trailed down your chest, his hot breath fanning across your skin, leaving a tingling sensation wherever it touched. The tension in the room thickened, his hands now tracing over the curves of your waist, gripping your hips with a possessive yet tender touch. As his lips hovered just above the edge of your bra, he paused, glancing up at you with those intense crimson eyes.

“You’re driving me crazy,” he whispered, his voice hoarse, laced with need. He kissed the swell of your breast softly, almost as if he was holding himself back.

You let out a shaky breath, fingers still tangled in his hair. “Katsuki…”

Hearing his name on your lips like that seemed to spark something in him. His hands moved to the clasp of your bra, and this time, there was no fumbling. He made quick work of it, tossing the fabric aside before lowering his head, lips grazing the newly exposed skin. His kisses turned hotter, more desperate, as his tongue flicked over one of your nipples, making you gasp and arch into him.

“God, you’re perfect,” he murmured between kisses, his hands roaming your body like he couldn’t get enough of you. Every touch set your skin on fire, each kiss pulling you further into the storm that was Bakugou Katsuki.

You could feel the tension building between you both, the room growing hotter with every second. You tugged at his shirt, pulling it off him in one swift motion, eager to feel his skin against yours. His muscles flexed under your touch, his body hard and warm as he pressed himself closer to you, almost as if he needed to feel every inch of you against him.

“Katsuki,” you breathed, your voice shaky with anticipation. “I need you…”

The words seemed to unravel something inside him. His lips crashed against yours again, and in a rush, his hands went to the waistband of your skirt. In one swift movement, he pulled it down, taking your panties with it, leaving you completely bare before him.

He paused for a moment, eyes raking over your body, as if he needed to take you in—every inch, every curve, burning the image of you into his mind.

“You’re so damn beautiful,” he said, voice low and husky, sending a shiver down your spine.

Before you could respond, he was on you again, his hands sliding down your thighs, parting them gently as he settled between them. The intensity in his eyes, the way his hands trembled ever so slightly despite his strong grip, only fueled your desire. You reached for him, tugging at the waistband of his pants, needing to feel him, needing to close the distance that still remained between you.

“Katsuki, please…” you whispered, your voice heavy with need.

That seemed to snap whatever control he had left. In a blur of motion, his pants were discarded, and he hovered over you, his skin warm against yours as he pressed his forehead to yours. His breath came in ragged gasps, and for a moment, the world narrowed to just the two of you—nothing else mattered.

“I love you,” he murmured, the words raw, almost vulnerable as he aligned himself with you.

Before you could respond, he thrust into you in one smooth motion, filling you completely. You gasped at the sensation, your back arching off the bed as pleasure overwhelmed your senses. Katsuki groaned, his head dropping to the crook of your neck as he held himself still for a moment, letting you adjust to the feeling of him inside you.

“You feel… so damn good,” he breathed, his voice strained with the effort it took to stay still.

You wrapped your arms around his back, nails digging into his skin as you whispered his name, urging him to move. And he did, slowly at first, his hips rolling against yours with a delicious rhythm that had you trembling beneath him. Each thrust sent waves of pleasure coursing through you, your mind going hazy as you lost yourself in him.

Katsuki’s pace quickened, the desperation in his movements mirroring your own. He pressed his lips to yours in a bruising kiss, swallowing your moans as his hips snapped against yours, the sound of skin against skin filling the room. His hands gripped your thighs, pulling you even closer, deeper, as if he wanted to merge with you entirely.

“I’m yours,” you gasped, your breath hitching as the coil of pleasure in your stomach tightened with every thrust. “Only yours, Katsuki…”

His response was a low growl, his grip tightening as he drove into you harder, faster. “That’s right,” he panted, his voice thick with emotion. “You’re mine… all mine.”

The intensity of his words, the sheer possessiveness in his voice, pushed you over the edge. With a cry, your body tightened around him, pleasure exploding through you in waves as your climax washed over you. Katsuki followed soon after, his body shuddering against yours as he found his own release, groaning your name as he buried himself deep inside you one last time.

For a moment, the world was silent, save for the sound of your heavy breathing, both of you clinging to each other as you came down from the high.

Katsuki collapsed beside you, pulling you into his arms, his chest rising and falling as he caught his breath. He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, his fingers brushing through your hair as he held you close.

“I love you,” he whispered again, quieter this time, but just as sincere.

You smiled, snuggling into his warmth as you whispered back, “I love you too, Katsuki. Always.”

Requests are open. Send as many as you like.

[clonerightsagenda]

How's Uglies holding up to modern rereading for you? I loved it as a kid, but nowadays I see it as an early entry in the YA dystopia boom that other books took formula notes from and refined down the line, making it feel a fair bit clumsier by comparison. Very fond memories, though, and I appreciate seeing the toxic yuri on my dash now that I'm old enough to appreciate it, lol.

It's holding up pretty well for me! I'll be honest - while I read The Hunger Games and Unwind, I never read Divergent or The Maze Runner, so I'm not entirely versed in the YA dystopia boom. I'm aware of the cultural construction of it though - world's specialest teen girl is the only one who can topple the government and lead a revolution. I'm not even sure how many of the actual series align with that stereotype (imo The Hunger Games is deliberately interrogating it) but anyway, some thoughts re: Uglies' position vis a vis dystopia stereotypes and just in general:

The love triangle is annoying, no arguments there, but it also ends more messily than I think the stereotype typically conveys. She 'chooses' one of them and then he dies as a direct result of her behavior, and she's not with-with the other at the end of the main series (and in the sequel series they've gone their separate ways).

Also, Tally is frequently a pretty unlikable person, which is a bold choice! She is not motivated by any pure intentions at the beginning - she's betraying a friend for her own gain - and throughout the series we see her wrecking that friendship over and over because, as Shay accuses her, she thinks she's the center of the universe. Shay hits every big milestone before Tally - Smoky, Pretty, Special - and it almost feels like prodding the limits of a close third POV, reminding us that there's isn't one single world's specialist teen girl. In the stereotypical version, Shay would be the scrappy rebel hero. Tally always needs pushes, and she's always screwing it up.

While it's obviously written for younger readers, the writing is effective. Like I said, Scott challenges himself to write the same POV three times with different levels of brain damage and pulls it off. He integrates made up slang in a way that doesn't feel too distracting (I really enjoy the way the princess sections in Pretties are written). In classic Scott fashion he brings back key ideas and phrases to hit you hard when it counts (informed consent, a special circumstance), and of course the whole final word of each book forming a circle is a fun little bonus. I'm glad this was written before the modern codifying of YA when it would be in first person.

The moral is obvious yeah but it's MG/YA and also props to Scott for predicting influencers in Extras. You also get the protagonist semi-aligning themselves with the antagonists' ideology at the end which is interesting, even if it again fits into a Western environmentalist assumption that humans can't live in peace with nature.

And finally, despite not being sporty at all, I still want a hoverboard.

[daryltwdixon]

The Ruins of Us: Chapter 8

Summary: You're getting ready to officially leave for college, when a familiar truck pulls up outside your house. When you go to say goodbye to your best friend, there is more tension than you expected. Flash forward to the immediate aftermath of the explosion, and you stand up to Shane once and for all.

See notes at the end, as they contain spoilers for this chapter.

Warnings: mentions of smut, but still SFW.

You were nervously packing your thrifted backpack with the half used notebooks and pencils from your room, head spinning with the list of things you needed to buy for your first semester at Georgia State University. You were lucky you had some student grants to help you with things like your dorm room costs and buying new bedding for the new bed you’ll have. But the costs of textbooks, extra clothes that weren’t tattered with stains and holes, and --if you found one good and cheap–a laptop were looming over you. You heard a honking outside your front door that pulled you away from your mental list in your head. You zipped up your backpack and hauled it over your shoulder along with the duffel bag with all your other belongings. You were headed out to the bus stop anyway, managing to find a couple bucks under your mom’s mattress while she was out today. You figured you’d find out who was honking outside on your way out. When you opened the front door, you froze in the doorway, half turned around to close it behind you. There was a glossy black truck in your driveway. You slowly brought the door shut behind you. Looking around the street to see if anyone else was nearby, you dropped your things on your porch and walked down to the driver’s side door hesitantly.

“Hey,” Shane says in a hoarse whisper, leaning out the window. 

“Hi,” you say simply back. You stood a few feet away from the car, waiting for him to say something, and he looked lost for words. He pushed his hand through his long black hair that sits piled on top of his head in a neat tousled style. His beard was growing a bit fuller now, and you stopped yourself from trying to think of what it feels like to the touch. The way Shane acted the last time you saw him was still fresh in your memory. You reached up to your neck unconsciously before bringing your hands back down to your sides. 

“Listen…” Shane finally began, “I–I’m sorry. About everything. I was such an asshole, baby. I should’ve known better,” he said nervously, “You are everything to me, Y/N. I hate the way I treated you that night. I haven’t stopped thinking about you. I miss you. I know what I did was wrong and…I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” 

You took a deep breath, processing everything he was saying. On the one hand, you wanted him to feel as hollow as you had the past couple weeks without him. You were glad to hear he’d been hurting from the way he acted the last time. He had left bruises on your skin, but what hurt you the most was that he wouldn’t even listen to you. He completely disregarded your words, let alone how terrible you were feeling that night. But at the same time…god, you’ve missed him too. After a long while, you come to your answer. Your mind is screaming to you that you should’ve said no, but your heart managed to answer first.

“Okay,” you whisper. He looked up with you, his puppy dog brown eyes full of hope.

“Okay? You forgive me?” he said. You nodded with a small smile. 

“I love you, Y/N,” he said, getting out of his truck to hug you tight to him, “you’re everything to me, truly,” he whispered into your hair as he held you against him. He felt warm and muscled under his officer uniform–he must’ve just gotten off of work. You pulled back from him, and looked into his eyes, searching for sincerity.

“You mean it?” you whispered.

“Yeah, of course I do,” he says, reaching down and pulling you for a hard kiss. He captures your mouth possessively, holding your face to his with his large, rough hands. His tongue plunges into your mouth with fervor. You hummed in satisfaction and he pulled you into the truck, sitting you on his lap. As he sat back in the driver’s seat, he ran his rough hands down your arms, making you shiver. You straddled him, knees deep in the seat as he pulled you closer.  “How ‘bout one more time, before you have to go,” he teased, pulling you into him for a few small, wet pecks to your lips.

“I have to get going, I’m going to miss my bus,” you said, your arms around his neck.

“I’ll drive you, I don’t want you on that nasty public bus,” he said with a playful hint to his voice. 

You hesitated. You were planning on seeing Daryl on your way out, to say goodbye. You weren’t moving far, but the chances of you being able to afford bus fare and come back to see him were few and far between. 

“It’s really okay, I don’t mind,” you insisted, pulling your arms away from his neck. You went to press them on his chest but he reached up, holding your arms in place.  “I’ll take you to see ‘em,” he said knowingly. He rubbed his hands down your arms again, comforting you. His voice was quiet and soft. Gentle, even. Your eyes widened in confusion.

“Really?” you asked.

“Yeah, ‘course. But first,” he smiled coyly, “…I’ve missed you,” he said, squeezing your ass in his large hands, making you grind your hips onto him. You toppled forward onto him, his lips finding your neck, kissing and biting you.

“Okay, okay,” you giggled, “make it quick–then I really have to go,” 

“Deal,” he said, grabbing your hair and pulling you further down into his lap.

x

You breathlessly pulled your shirt back down to cover yourself and zipped your shorts up when you climbed out of the truck a few minutes later.

“I gotta go get my bags,” you began, buttoning the last fastening on your shorts, “And I think I forgot something,” you said with a big smile, going up to your house for the last time. You run to haul your bags over your shoulders, dashing inside.

x

You had thought this was a good idea–Shane dropping you by Daryl’s on your way to leave for school. But the closer and closer you got to his house, the faster your heart beated against your chest. As Shane put the truck in park, he pulled your chin to look at him and brought you in for a long kiss before releasing you. 

“Go on, I’ll be right here,” he said gently.

You smiled and pushed open the door with one hand, a cupcake in your left. When Shane offered to give you a ride, you suddenly had remembered you made one vanilla cupcake for today to bring to Daryl. You were going to miss his birthday that weekend, but still wanted him to know you remembered. 

When you shut the truck door behind you, you stopped dead in your tracks. Daryl was perched on his front porch railing, smoking a cigarette. You looked back into the truck to see Shane staring him down now. Had he pulled you in for a kiss because he knew it would be in front of him? Shane wouldn’t be that petty--no. But as you watched their stare down continue, you weren’t so sure.

Daryl wasn’t looking at you as you approached the house, but staring hard at the vehicle in his driveway. When you made your way up onto the porch, he finally turned his head to look at you, his glare still glacial on his face.

“I came to say goodbye,” you said quietly to him. You held out the cupcake to him, “and to say happy early birthday,” he looked down at the cupcake, and back up at you. Without saying anything he just looked back out at the truck, eyes narrowed. 

“Daryl, please,” you plead to him, lowering the cupcake. You don’t know what else to say, so you stood there, just waiting. Daryl brought the last of his cigarette up to his lips, still watching the truck. Once he had let out a long puff of smoke out to the sky, he hopped off the railing, putting the cigarette out on the wood, and walked right past you into his house. He made sure to slam the door behind him, the bones of the house shaking. You stared wide eyed at the door for a long moment, not sure what to do. You felt your face flush with heat, and before you would allow any moisture to gather in your eyes, you sat the cupcake down on the cigarette butt littered table by the door, and ran back out to the truck.

x Flash Forward x

By the time you and Daryl had made it back to your truck, there were pieces of ash and debris falling out of the sky already. He had gotten up off of you once the explosion had made its initial blow, bringing you up to your feet, only to turn and run to the cars at breakneck speed. So now, you’re finally reaching the truck door and swinging open the passenger side as he throws his crossbow and gun in before hopping in himself.

“You idiot! You absolute idiot! ” he was shouting at you, “the hell were you doin’ in there? You nearly exploded with the whole damn building!” 

He is shaking with rage as he waits for some sort of explanation from you. When you both turn to see Dale and Andrea make it to the RV, he reaches down to turn the key in the ignition. He rests his hand on the wheel, waiting to start moving, and looks over at you expectantly. 

“So did you!” you yell back at him.  “I was only in there ‘cause I was lookin’ for you after I didn’t see you come out with us!” his red face is livid, and spit flying as he yells. You are taken aback, sitting against your seat. With your hesitation, Daryl continues, “What the hell were you even doin? Forget a magazine ‘er somethin? Lip gloss left behind?” He starts moving ahead, behind the rest of the group's cars. His hands are white knuckling the steering wheel.

“Oh screw you, Daryl. I was looking for you , asshole.” you narrow your eyes and point an accusatory finger at him. Now it’s his turn to look stricken, so you continue, "I didn’t see you. I didn’t see anyone when I came out of my room. I had to—" you pause, trying to find the right words, "I couldn’t leave without… knowing for sure where you were." Your voice drops to a whisper. "I just needed to make sure no one else was in there," You end quietly, but with a sense of finality. You know what you really wanted to say, and hope he could read between the lines without making you say it out loud.  “Well don’t do anythin’ like that again,” he says quieter, “ Stupid. It’s stupid to risk your life for me, Y/L/N,” he says even quieter, almost to himself. 

“Back at you, Dixon ,” you say with sarcasm, folding your arms over your chest in annoyance. Rick’s voice suddenly comes over the radio on Channel 40 after a long stretch of silence between the two of you, and you reach down to turn up the volume.

“--gonna pull over here by these houses,” the bad connection breaks up his voice, “--some vehicles we can siphon some gas,” his voice is crackling from the static, but you’re able to make out the important information. Daryl pulls the truck up on the dirt driveway and looks over at you.

“‘m serious, Y/N. Never again.” he says seriously. You almost roll your eyes but think better of it, and just ignore him. Hopping out the passenger side, everyone is grabbing the gas cans, ready to see what they can find from the abandoned vehicles left behind. 

Shane is approaching both you and Daryl, and you stiffen, “We’re gon’ need to ration the gas we can find,” he says with authority to Daryl, “you okay with drivin’ the bike to save gas, we can take what’s left in the truck and use it for the RV?”

Daryl just nods, moving to the bed of his old beaten up truck to start unstrapping the motorcycle. You stand in front of Shane, who has his hands on his hips, looking down at you. 

“Listen Y/N,” he breathes, but you shake your head.

“Let’s just forget about it,” you say, whispering to him and shaking your head, “I don’t want to know what’s going on with you and Lori. It’s not my business,”

“Okay, but I–” he begins, but you hold up a hand, stepping directly in front of him to shield anyone’s prying eyes.

“But if you ever touch me like that again,” you seethe, your eyes filling with fire, “I will not hesitate. I will tell every member of this group what’s goin’ on and what you did. And I happen to know two people who would have a real problem with that information,” 

He stares down at you, his eyes hardening.

“You and me, Shane, whatever this is, whatever it was, is no longer. I can’t do it anymore. You crossed a line. A really fucking big line. I ain’t your ‘plaything’ anymore. I’ve had enough,” you finish, quoting his words from last night. You step away and turn before he can say anything else. Rick is watching the two of you, and when he looks over your shoulder, he nods to Shane, maybe in question, you can’t tell. You don’t care anymore. 

Daryl is sitting on Merle’s bike now, engine roaring to life. He walks it up as he sits, pulling in front of you, cutting off your path. He just shoots his head over his shoulder gently, waving you on. A silent understanding that he was done being mad at you. Without a word, you hop on, and grab him by the sides of his tattered sleeveless shirt. You look over to Shane, who watches Lori and Rick before Dale calls him to get into the RV. So, you have only three vehicles now: the RV, the hatchback, and the bike. You suppose the guys must’ve funneled the fuel they found and conserved what they could from the other two you had to leave behind. Until there was any chance of finding a camp, resources had just become very, very scarce.

You hear the RV start behind you, and Daryl leads the newly minimized caravan ahead to the highway.

Notes: yes I'm annoyed at the MFC too for getting back together with that asshole. But she must! For the plot!! She doesn't know any better! She's never had a father's love! yes it's a short chapter, I was emoshie over Daryl and you, okay??? and can we just have a moment for that pic of young Daryl????

Chapter 9 is here

[ceruleanblueshells]

...

They lay side by side on the bed, Albus playing with Scorpius's hand. Scorpius wore wrist bands, always, to hide the scars he had gotten. From before. From Delphine. It was a fleeting thought, but Albus couldn't help flinch inwardly. His fingers mapped his palms, reaching his wrists.

It was too hot for wristbands.

Albus didn't dare touch the scars, though he knew they were long past hurting.

He wished he could kiss them, gently. Softly.

" Albus, " Scorpius whispered. When Scorpius said Albus, he meant Albus. And God, he was probably the only one. " Don't. "

He pulled his hands away, and Albus felt empty.

" You know, they're just extra lines. I mean, you get love lines on your palms. I get mine on wrists. "

There was a smile in his voice that sustained Albus like air. He couldn't help smiling as well.

" That's such a shitty joke. "

" You're shitty "

And just like that, everything was fine.

Until it wasn't.

Because obviously Albus couldn't just let things be.

" You know you can tell me anything right ? "

They'd had this conversation in a loop a million times before. He felt Scorpius's shoulder tense beside him, until he let out a long breath.

" Yeah. "

He closed his eyes. The silence stretched so long, he thought Scorpius was asleep , but then ,

" I still dream about him. Craig,I mean. When he ..um..passed away. "

He hates how sad he sounds. When Albus was younger, he had believed he must have swallowed all the sadness in the world to feel the way he felt. But really, he hadn't. Because here was Scorpius, his voice so broken. Albus wished he could swallow it away now.

" I'm sorry. " he whispered, which was inadequate but it was all he had. Because he was sorry. He had lured Scorpius into their save Cedric-time mission. He was the only reason Scorpius had those scars, the reason Scorpius had to carry this sadness.

He felt Scorpius reach for his hand, fingers warm against his. He squeezed gently.

" I still dream about you sometimes. When..when she was torturing you. "

The flash. The screams. The tears.

Scorpius bleeding on the ground.

Even putting words to the image threatened to break something in him.

His breath caught, before he calmed himself. Beside him, Scorpius was still.

There was a long, terrible silence.

Then there was some more.

Until.

" Me too. "

And oh.

Oh.

Now albus's heart really did shatter like fallen china.

He could almost see Scorpius sweating and tossing in bed, waking up from torturous nightmares.

And here was Albus Potter, the culprit, the friend, the one who loved, the one who could do nothing.

Here was Albus Potter, who quietly shifted closer to the boy beside him whom he had a hand in breaking.

"This okay?" He whispered, as he slowly wrapped his arms around his waist. Scorpius nodded, leaning into the touch.

Albus watched as he slowly fell asleep in his arms.

Here was Albus Potter, so completely in love and so wholly destroyed.

[burinazar]

Mmph. It’s been a while and I didn’t realize I would still be excessively annoyed/affected by people with negative things to say about my OTP, but I am, I guess.

If it helps to add context, these comments were on a post where an account had reposted (without permission) some sweet gift art of the ship made especially for me, so I may be inclined to take it more personally for that reason. >__>

[thespianinthebackcorner]

I'm pretty sure Squid Sisters were already pretty popular back in the Splatoon 1-Splatoon 2 days. After all, their relationship, agent lives and family drama was the main focus of the plot (among saving the squid society). And even nowadays, people still love them. They're THE Splatoon icons. Have you forgotten how people went crazy over the Reporter Callie outfit? There were fanarts everywhere!

Off The Hook are also really interesting - they played a huge part in Octo Expansion (you know, the DLC with the biggest, darkest, most liked lore and aesthetic?) and in Side Order, we also know their backstories (especially Marina's backstory is pure fanfic material, people love the angsty deserter trope + she was a breath of fresh air and a mystery as a first important non-enemy octoling character ever). Not to mention that they're literal canon lesbians with healthy and interesting dynamics.

What do we know about Deep Cut?? They've got nothing going on. They were villains in the Splatoon 3 storymode but mind you, not even the main villains. They grew up together, they come from some prestigious families that aren't mentioned ANYWHERE outside of the Sunken Scrolls, we know nothing about them. They don't have backstories, they don't have interesting dynamics (they're just 3 random people and their bond isn't even shown to be that strong, of course people prefer the SS family drama or OTH lesbian romance). Deep Cut is boring, of course people don't care about them, don't blame us, blame Nintendo for neglecting them.

Also, stop acting like you're better than others because you don't care about the icky romance and give deserved equal attention to every poor idol that gets overshadowed by the lesbians. People DO care about other Splatoon characters. There are fanarts of the Agents (Agent 24 is problably the second most popular ship right after Pearlina), non-idol Splatbands, even Craig Cuttlefish and Octavio! Maybe you'll see all this content if you stop exclusively browsing only the pearlina tag. Also accept that Deep Cut is boring.

ooh, another one.

Okay, I don't have all the time to type up an entire essay (tbh I lowkey admire the effort of writing four paragraphs just to bitch on me for having an opinion), so I'm gonna summarise my result.

I don't follow the pearlina tags. The only Splatoon tags I follow are Splatoon and the promo kids tag. Used to follow more but I have my reasons for unfollowing the other ones. (They were mostly agent ships, for clarity.)

I know other people care about the others. I'm just saying that when stuff like this rolls around it's never seen because everyone talking about pearlina gets top spots on this site and no one gives attention to anything else, so everything else is hard to see. This is mostly a recent development with grandfest, but even so Pearlina overshadows a LOT. For me, the Callie suit was actually a rare case of the community not focusing on them.

i know the Squid Sisters were popular in their first games. That's the point. Y'all are sitting out here talking about the old idols and ignoring the ones we're supposed to be paying attention to.

So what if the deep cut members don't have much lore to their names? I'm in the promo kid fandom! They have literally only their names and people don't have a problem coming up with headcanons and engaging stories for them. Just be creative. That's what fandom is for.

Believe it or not, I know Pearl and Marina featured in side order and octo expansion. I know they have a healthy dynamic. Surprise surprise, I've played the games too. I have both DLCs and have completed both. I know. That's not my point.

i also know that there are poeople out there caring about other characters. Like I said, I'm in the promo kid fandom. It's just that whenever pearl and marina appear on screen, any trace of that is immediately overshadowed and made ten times harder to find. And I rarely have the time to go hunting through tags.

I'm not trying to act like I'm better. I'm not guilty of pearlina posting, but I'm not much better either. I'm just stating how I feel and how i see things. If you've got a problem with that, great, but don't insult me for my feelings. It's your choice how you react to things. If you've got nothing nice to say, don't say it.

[killjoy-prince]

Trying on the cosplays imma wear to a con in a month and getting excited that ill be cosplaying said characters in a month

[wolvisms]

dude i love love

[mars-ipan]

iii…. don’t know what romance is

[cuppa-ale]

No matter where I go or what I make, I never really feel like I "belong" anywhere and that train of thought has been really depressing to me.

At the same time, it also seems that belonging to any social group means conforming and that thought scares me. When I think about what that means to me, I think of things like.... having to stay quiet about things that are important to me in order to keep the peace, or being afraid to express my love for something because everyone else there hates it & doesn't want to talk about it, or just flat out feeling miserable and stuck and out of place for one reason or another.

(Or magically be the type of person that people within the group want, who talks like them and acts like them and thinks all the same things... though idk if that's actually grounded in reality or some subconscious pulse I have to adapt and mimic. But i don't really know what it means to be "myself")

With all that in mind, I would like to convert my miserable feelings into understanding & patience towards others. I never want to make anyone feel those ways & I know how it feels.

But... becoming attached and seeking the approval of anyone is bad for me because I just wind up hurt or miserable or both in the end. But at the same time it's lonely. But at the same time I feel miserable either way. There is a teeny tiny part of my brain that remembers what it was like to feel that attachment.

I feel like a small stray animal that bites anyone who tries to take it home, because it remembers being hurt. But it also remembers being cherished, and there exists a tinier part of it that wishes it had an owner who wouldn't let it go so easily.

Who wishes that there were clear instructions to follow and to know exactly what was expected of it.

But nobody ever asked to be its owner. It just started following people around until it was no longer wanted. And now it bites, or runs off. Now it growls and fights and acts indifferent because if it doesn't, it will get hurt again. Maybe the bite is a test. But either way, it cannot stand the thought of being led. Now, it refuses to follow or trail behind. Now, it exists for no purpose other than existing and surviving.

I don't like feeling like all my relationships are conditional and that I could be dropped or abandoned any moment for being "too weird" or having a bad day. However silly or selfish it sounds, I wish so badly that I could be cherished for that exact weirdness and all the weirdness and horror and joy and ambiguity I want to bring forth with my work.

I want to expunge all these thoughts from my brain and throw them up into the void because i am so tired of worrying about myself and something so dull as my "place" in the world and going through the same thought loops over and over and over again and never being free. My head is so loud and full of noise and junk.

I am so blunt these days because anything else feels like lying and pretending. I'd rather be brutally honest and blunt in my work and my speech.

I have been living inside a brain cage. One day, I will finally be free.

One day, I will finally be free.

[indiangp]

.

[jils-things]

hallo guys :] :] :]