#but I do know that this is something that I seriously want to fix and reflect more on

[quinnysnursery]

Do you remember the podcast episode where Chris and Nick were mean to Matt ( calling him miserable etc.), and could you write something fluffy abt the reader comforting Matt after they filmed that episode?

[🩹] bottled up | matt sturniolo one-shot

paring : little!matt sturniolo x cg!gn!reader

summary : sometimes matt's brothers are just too mean...and sometimes a bottle fixes everything

warning/extra tid-bits : nick and chris being meanies (happy ending though!), crying, use of y/n, i think that should be it!

word count : 1,037

divider credit : @v6que

a/n : this podcast episode stressed me out so bad (sorry for any typos, i'm just a girl !)

Matt left the room as soon as he could, ignoring his brother’s taunts about how he was “Miserable” and “Negative”.

He could already feel the tears slipping out from his baby blue eyes as he ran upstairs and into his room, slamming his door shut behind him and twisting the lock with a satisfying “click!”

You sat on his bed, watching the whole scene unfold. Carefully putting your cheesy rom com book on his nightstand, you cleared your throat causing Matt’s eyes widened in surprise, he’s forgotten you were here but once he remembered he thanked god.

“M-Mama/D-Dada/B-Baba!” Matt cried, holding his arms out for a hug. Your sweet boy didn’t have to ask twice because you instantly pulled him into a hug, sitting the two of you down on his bed. Matt managed to shimmy his way onto your lap as you held him in a cradling position.

“Shhh, I’m here darling. I’m here.” You comforted him, placing gently kisses atop his head. Matt continued crying for what felt like an hour, mumbling out stuff about how Chris was a “meanie” and Nick was too.

“Were they being mean to my sweet boy?” You asked sympathetically. He nodded against your now tear-stained shirt.

“I’m sorry sweetheart…Do you want me to go talk to them?” You offered, you weren’t even sure what you would say but you already had some choice words in mind. Luckily for Chris and Nick, Matt shook his head which was now resting right above your heart. Your heartbeat had always seemed to be soothing to the little.

“Okay angel, well what do you need from Mama/Dada/Baba right now?” You asked, curling the back of his hair around your fingertips.

Thinking for a moment, Matt’s hands anxiously picked at the skin near his nails. You quietly took one of his hands, squeezing some of the pressure points in it in an attempt to alleviate some of his anxiety. 

“M’ want…” Matt trailed off into a mumble, a shy blush invading his face. You smiled, looking down at the little on your lap. “Hm? What is it?” You pried, “M’ wanna bottle…” He mumbled, rubbing his eyes sleepily. 

You beamed, always delighted to give your boy a bottle, before nodding. “Okay sweetheart, can you wait here while Mama/Dada/Baba brings the bottle up?” You asked, he thought for a moment before nodding.

After some gentle coaxing and multiple pinky promises you would return, you found yourself in the kitchen. You’d managed to avoid both Nick and Chris, unscrewing Matt’s bottle and filling it with milk and a few splashes of vanilla extract.

“Y/N? I didn’t know you were here!” Chris’ voice came from behind you. You internally sighed, turning around. “Yeah, Matt said we’d hang out after the podcast…” You mumbled. “Do you two wanna watch a movie? Me and Nick were gonna watch-” You cut the youngest triplet off, “No, Matt’s not feeling well.” You said firmly. Chris rolled his eyes, “He is still Miserable Matt?” He joked, only you didn’t laugh.

“Can you stop calling him that?” You asked, your tone sharper than intended. Chris paused. “I mean- seriously. I get that you three are brothers and you're gonna mess around but like- just lay off dude.” You continued, “I…” The youngest trailed off, his eyes meeting the bottle behind you.

Both Chris and Nick knew of their brother's regression, you hadn’t always been his caregiver and with Matt’s specific age range, he needed someone to at least make sure he didn’t hurt himself. 

Realizing his actions had caused his older brother to regress, Chris’ face instantly fell. 

“I’m- I’m sorry Y/N I thought-” 

You shook your head, turning around and screwing the cap back onto Matt’s bottle. “Apologize to Matt, not me.” You said, beginning to walk back to Matt’s room, Chris following you. 

“Well not right now!” You scolded, Chris stopped and nodded. “I uh- yeah okay.” He said before sheepishly moving back to the living room where Nick was sitting on the couch.

After sliding back into the room, you were greeted by Matt who was now in comfier clothes.

“Guess what I’ve got!” You sang, gently shaking the bottle in the air. Matt giggled, his puffy eyes beginning to return to normal. 

You sat yourself against the headrest, Matt wasting no time crawling into your lap and laying his head on your chest. You cooed, whispering gentle affirmations to him about how he was a “sweet boy”, specifically your sweet boy.

Bringing the bottle to his lips, Matt hummed as the milk entered his mouth. Your little snuggled further into you, anxiety melting away by the second.

You proceeded to talk about anything and everything you could think of, from the most recent episode of Bluey the two of you had watched…to the weather in your hometown.

Matt listened contentedly, eyes transfixed on you as he drank his milk.

Just as the milk in his bottle ran dry, Matt’s eyes began to grow heavy. “Oh sweetheart…is someone tired?” You cooed, voice dripping in a softness a cloud could only dream of achieving.

“Mhm..” Matt mumbled as you began playing with his hair. “Poor thing, such a sleepy baby~” You smiled, placing a gentle kiss on Matt’s nose.

Giggling, he began allowing sleep to take over his mind. 

It’d been nearly 30 minutes since Matt fell asleep, and you decided to hold him in your lap for as long as your limbs would allow. Just as you were going to move him, you heard the bedroom door creak open.

Turning your gaze to the now open door, you were greeted by Nick and Chris’ faces peeking in. You raised your brow.

“He okay?” Nick asked shyly, you smiled at the oldest brother’s concern. “Yeah, out like a light though.” You let out a breathy laugh, the two brothers doing the same.

The two brothers helped move Matt off of you, tucking him in. 

Nick told you he already planned on apologizing to his middle brother first thing in the morning before leaving you and Chris on your own.

“Movie offer still stands,” Chris whispered, just before he slipped out the door.

[meiliarotten]

Team Fortress 2 Kinktober Time: Return of the Kink

Day 14: Correction (Spanking)

🔞MINORS DNI🔞

Pairings: Spy x Gender Neutral!Reader

Summary: Your battlefield shenanigans are getting out of hand, and Spy decides to do something about it.

Tags: Spanking, Dom/Sub, bratty reader, masochism, hair pulling, edging, teasing, aftercare

Word Count: 3.4k

The Masterlist

“So… you’ve been chain smoking ever since we got off the battlefield. And that was an hour ago.”

Spy barely acknowledged you, simply proving your point by lighting a fresh cigarette with the embers of the last one. You sat uncomfortably in a chair across from him, a chess set laying untouched between the two of you. “I mean, I know this is called a smoking room for a reason, but this,” you gestured towards the cloud of wispy gray smoke that had formed above the two of you, “Is a bit much, don’t you think?”

Honestly, if it weren’t for the effects of the Medigun you were certain Spy would have literally every kind of respiratory illness by now. All of the lung cancer, all of the emphysema. All of it.

Another moment of silence stretched out for an eternity before you let out an annoyed huff. Getting up from your chair, you walked right over to Spy, leaning against the arm of his chair and fixing him with the sweetest expression you could muster. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Spy sighed, a cloud of smoke passing his lips before he responded, still refusing to look at you. “You really are dense sometimes, my dear.”

“Damn. Alright then,” you said, put off by his obtuse, and frankly, insulting response. You moved to return to your own seat but Spy grabbed your arm.

“Non, non! Come, sit.” You let him pull you into his lap. His tone sounded apologetic. You made yourself comfortable, straddling him. He snuffed out the cigarette in a nearby ashtray.

“So, what’s wrong?” you asked again, hoping for a more direct answer this time.

Spy took a deep breath. “Darling, you know I love you.”

“I am very lovable.”

“And you know that I will always be honest with you.”

“Oh no.” You recognized that tone and those words. What followed was usually some kind of critique, and what’s worse, it was almost always a valid critique- the worst kind of all.

Spy went on. “Which is why it is my responsibility to say that your battlefield performance today was, in a word, abysmal.”

“Ouch.” You pouted, batting your lashes at him. He remained unaffected by your antics, continuing with barely a pause.

“It was not just today, either. You have been inattentive, and more so, you’ve made yourself a distraction for me as well!”

“It’s just a bit of flirting. It’s fun!” You were actually a bit surprised at this. You had been under the assumption that Spy was a sucker for stolen kisses in concealed corners or subtle, yet tender touches between checkpoints.

“It is fun for you, but your ‘flirting’ has cost us several battles in the past month alone!” Spy knew he wasn’t completely innocent either. His responses only encouraged your behavior, but you were always the inviting factor, so it was only fair that you bared most of the blame.

“It’s not my fault you make backstabbing look so hot.” You pouted, arms crossed indignantly. “Besides, I thought you liked having my eyes on you.”

Spy took a deep breath, trying to be patient with you, no matter how difficult you were making that endeavor. “Even when you are being insolent, you somehow manage to be charming,” he admitted. “But even so, I can not allow myself to become infatuated with your faults.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” you asked.

“Darling, it is our duty as lovers to bring out the best in each other, and sometimes that involves a bit of correction.”

Correction? Seriously? You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “What are you going to do, spank me?” Spy paused. He paused for a very long time. “Spy?”

“Perhaps I should.”

“What? Spy, I was joking! You’re actually considering it?” you said, stammering.

“Oh no, my dear, I’m not considering it. I have already decided.” He said, giving you a stern look that made you want to shrink away into the nearest wall. “Bend over my desk.”

You didn’t get a chance to protest before he pushed you off his lap. You rushed to get back on your feet, stumbling slightly. “Spy, what the hell are you doing?” you asked, glancing at the desk in disbelief.

“I believe I was quite clear.”

“You can’t be serious!” you said, exasperated and baffled by the situation that was unfolding before you.

Spy took you by the chin, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. “You are being a petulant little brat.”

You bristled. “I am not!” Ironically, that may have been the most ‘bratty’ thing you could have said at the moment.

The two of you stared at each other for a while, stuck in a kind of stand off before Spy sighed and his gaze softened. “Are you truly uncomfortable with this, darling?” he asked. “I won’t do anything to you that you do not agree to.”

“No, it’s not like I’m scared of a little pain.” You thought it over for a moment. Once your initial shock had been pushed aside, it didn’t really seem all that bad. “It’s just kind of humiliating.”

“Of course. Punishment must by necessity be at least a little unpleasant.”

Well, you supposed that made sense, and even you had to admit that some of your actions had cost you some pretty vital battles over the past few days. Everyone had been in a less than pleasant mood because of it, and if there was a chance this unconventional method of ‘correction’ could end your team’s streak of losses, then it was worth a shot. A few swats to your ass couldn’t be that difficult to endure, right?

“I’ll do it, if it’ll make you feel like you’ve ‘fulfilled your duty as a lover,’ or whatever,” you said, struggling not to roll your eyes as you quoted his own words back at him. You turned, bending over the desk and shifting your weight side to side. You craned your neck to shoot him a wicked smile. “You can even enjoy the view while your at it-”

The first spank came down hard before you could finish your sentence. You cut yourself off with a shout, covering your mouth the moment the sound escaped you. Your face flushed, embarrassed at how strongly you had reacted. Spy grinned, however his tone remained even and calm, almost nonchalant.

“I believe ten swats will be sufficient, assuming we don’t have to start over.” Before you could ask what exactly would require him to start over, a second spank made you jump. Instinctively, you tried to squirm away from the impact. Spy’s other hand immediately pressed down on the small of your back, keeping you in place. “Stay still, darling. Reste calme. This will be easier if you obey.”

“Fuck, this is ridiculous,” you said, trying to distract yourself by seeing the humor in this situation. Spy delivered a third spank without hesitation. You were more prepared for it this time, biting your lip hard to keep from crying out again.

“Perhaps I need to curb that snarky mouth of yours as well,” he said, clearly unamused with your commentary. Having not learned your lesson, you opened your mouth to speak once again, only for your words to turn into a harsh moan as a fourth swat rained down on you. A fifth left you gripping the edges of the desk.

“That’s it, hold on if you must. You’re taking this quite well for your first time receiving such punishment.” That was the first bit of praise Spy had offered you since starting this whole ordeal. “We’re halfway done now.”

“Only half?” Your voice trembled. You weren’t sure why this was affecting you so much. It hurt, yes, but you had endured pain far worse. This should not have been making you shudder and whine. It was only upon the sixth swat that you found yourself squeezing your thighs together, your eyes going wide as you finally recognized that familiar feeling blossoming between your hips.

On the seventh, you began to pray that Spy would interpret your moans as sounds of pain, because there was no holding them back anymore. You pressed your forehead against the desk, clamping your lower lip between your teeth in a feeble attempt to quiet yourself. That only resulted in your moans turning into shaky whimpers as you rode out the final moments of your punishment.

There was no denying that you were quite disappointed when it ended. You stayed bent over the desk for a while, hiding your bereft expression from view. Spy’s hand still rested on the small of your back, a small assurance that he was still there. He stayed quiet, letting you sit up at your own pace. When you did finally get up your eyes remained glued to the desk for a while as you tried to quell your arousal.

“Look at me.” Spy’s words were soft, but stern. Reluctantly, you turned to face him, hoping against hope that your blush had calmed down, even though the heat in your cheeks proved otherwise. You were met with a surprisingly tender smile and Spy reached out to brush his thumb over your chin. “You did wonderfully, my darling. Come, let me kiss you.”

Now that was an order you were eager to follow. You pressed your lips to his, gripping the lapels of his suit, pulling him close. Your bodies were flush against each other, but it still didn’t feel close enough. You wanted him inside you, you wanted it so badly it hurt- or maybe that was just the lingering sting from your punishment. Whatever it was, it caused tears to prick at the corners of your eyes. When you finally broke for air, your gasp came out as more of a sob that you tried and failed to stifle.

“It’s alright, don’t hold back,” Spy whispered, moving from your lips to kiss your cheek, wiping a tear away with his thumb. “Crying is natural after such an experience.”

You sniffed, trying to keep some composure even as tears fell and dotted the expensive fabric of Spy’s suit. He took off the jacket, letting it drape off the edge of a nearby chair. You weren’t sure why, but some strange combination between the lingering sting of the spanks and the sight of Spy removing his clothing sparked something in you. Without thinking, you began to tug at the buttons of his undershirt.

Spy made a soft sound of surprise, but you kissed him before he could say another word. You didn’t want any interruptions, not yet. Still, you eventually had to draw back for air. Spy chuckled as you unfastened the final button, splaying your hands over his chest. “I’m starting to think this was a bit too enjoyable for you, mon amour.” You shushed him, raking your nailed down his chest. He gasped, but quickly regained his composure. “I wasn’t aware I had a masochist on my hands. I would have chosen a different method of punishment otherwise-”

You kissed him hard, shutting him up once again. Clumsily, you began to pull at his belt and slacks. You were working blindly, but slowly, the belt came loose. Spy jerked against you roughly when you finally wrapped a hand around his cock. You weren’t gentle, pumping him fast and feeling him harden in your grasp. He moaned against your mouth and you felt a hint of pride at getting such a reaction out of him, no matter how brief. Your little power trip wasn’t going to last long, though.

Gloved fingers tangled into your hair. You hummed, enjoying the gentle touch on your scalp, until Spy suddenly tightened his grip and pulled hard. Your head tilted back and you winced.

“Ouch! God, what was that for?” you asked, glaring at him and rubbing the back of your head.

“I was just reminding you who is in charge here.” Without another word, Spy leaned in to kiss your now exposed neck. You shivered, feeling him suck the skin hard before pressing his lips tenderly against the new red mark. He was going to leave bruises, you were certain of it.

With a huff, you pulled away, feeling his hold on your hair loosen enough for you to move. “Fine,” you said, turning around to face the desk again. You leaned over, bracing yourself on your elbows and swaying your hips subtly. “Go on, take charge, Sir.”

Spy laughed, but you also caught the slightest hitch in his breath. You knew he loved it when you referred to him with such authority. A well placed ‘Yes sir’ was a weakness of his that you often took advantage of. Your pants and underwear were quickly yanked down, leaving your lower half exposed. You held back a whimper as Spy began to caress your still very sore ass.

“Such a lovely red,” he said, speaking as if he was admiring a work of art. You had no doubt the red he spoke of was akin to the hue adorning your face as well. You leaned your forehead on the desk, hoping the coolness of the wood would ease the flush.

It was only when you felt a finger prodding at you that you lifted your head. Your eyes went wide and you almost laughed when you realized the finger was noticeably slick. “What the hell?” you said, realizing what the substance was. “Do you just happen to carry lube on you at all times?”

Your question was me with a soft chuckle. Spy leaned over, placing the bottle right next to you upon the desk. Sure enough, it was small enough to easily fit within the pockets of his suit jacket. “With a lover as ravenous as you, one must be prepared.” His touch left you and you heard him moan as he slickened his cock, pumping it a few times before lining up to your entrance. You tried to grind against him, but he pulled away with a huff. “Control yourself, darling.”

He pushed in at a painfully slow pace. When he finally hilted inside you he stopped, holding himself there. His hands wandered from your hips up to your waist. You squirmed and whined. “Come on, move! Move, please!” The grip on your waist tightened, and you went quiet.

“This is the kind of behavior that we just dealt with, my dear. I won’t say it again- be patient.” You scowled, mostly because you knew he was right. He was giving you time to adjust. The last thing you needed was to hurt yourself. That was a type of injury you most certainly wouldn’t want to explain to Medic.

So, you muffled your complaints, biting your knuckles until you felt Spy begin to reward your display of restraint. His hands tightened around your waist again, but not in warning. It turned out you just made for great leverage as he began to thrust faster. “Fuck,” you gasped, feeling his hips smack against your ass.

“You’re still sensitive.” Spy ground his hips against you, making you whimper. “But you enjoy how it feels, don’t you? The pain mingled with the pleasure. You enjoyed being spanked.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but all that came out was a scream when another swat suddenly came down on your ass. You clamped your hands over your mouth in shock, certain that if anyone was nearby, perhaps even down the hall outside the smoking room, they would have heard you.

“Oh my, who knew you could make a sound like that?” Spy said. You could practically hear the smirk on his face from the way he spoke. “My very own bratty little masochist. I should have known you would like this.”

He was going faster. You weren’t even sure when he began to speed up, or when you had laid out flat against the desk. At some point your arms had buckled under you, leaving your cheek pressed against the hardwood. You hoped you weren’t drooling too much. That would be even more embarrassing than the high pitched shrieks that followed every fresh swat that Spy delivered. It was so much more intense without the barrier of clothing in the way.

After a while, even the embarrassment began to fade. You felt high on the pleasure, high on the pain. You weren’t sure which you liked better. Perhaps it was the combination of the two contrasting sensations that created this unique, foggy, dream-like state you found yourself in. You never wanted to lose this feeling. Your whole body was beginning to feel hot, overwhelmingly hot, and a familiar, tight coiling in your stomach signaled that your climax was fast approaching. All good things must come to an end at some point.

You clawed uselessly at the desk, scrambling for purchase on anything within your reach until Spy’s hands clamped around your wrists, pinning them. “Try not to scratch up my desk, love.”

“Spy, I’m close!” You weren’t even sure if Spy would be able to understand you through your moans. “Fuck, I’m so close, please!”

“Do you think you deserve it?”

Spy’s response stumped you, and you began to stammer. “What? What do you mean?”

“You heard me, darling. I already warned you, I will not repeat myself.”

You shuddered. Spy’s pace had slowed again. He was keeping you right on the edge. Your body screamed for release, but even now, you knew it was a release that you hadn’t earned. “I don’t,” you sobbed. “I don’t deserve it, but I can be good! I’ll earn it, just please, please let me come, sir!” The words coming out of your mouth should have humiliated you, but you didn’t care. All you cared about was that promised blissful feeling that was being held just out of arm's reach, so close you could practically taste it.

“At least you are capable of honesty.” You barely noticed the tremble in Spy’s voice, the barest hint that he wouldn’t last much longer like this either. “Go on, you can stop holding back, mon ange.”

His words were like the pulling of a trigger. Your body shuddered beneath him. It took a moment for you to realize that elated, keening noise you heard was coming from your own throat. Spy’s grip held steadfast even as you strained against him, trying to squirm and writhe. Tears pricked at your eyes as your climax overwhelmed you. Your legs trembled, threatening to buckle as Spy continued to rut into your spent body without pause, chasing his own release. Mercifully, he finished soon after you, albeit much softer. He moaned against your ear, leaning his weight upon you for a few moments until you groaned, having been essentially squished against the hard surface of the desk.

“Ah, my apologies, love.” Spy got off of you, being exceedingly careful as he withdrew. You were trembling so much that he was certain you would collapse without his support. “Steady now,” he cautioned as you slowly sat up and took a few shaky steps away from the desk, leaning heavily on him.

“Fuck,” you sighed. “That was really good.”

Spy chuckled. You were never the most articulate person post-orgasm, but you were certainly the most honest. He pulled you in for a quick kiss, feeling your lips curve upward, smiling against him. “Darling, you enjoyed that far too much for it to be considered a proper punishment.”

Your face fell. “Oh. Do I need to have a ‘proper punishment’ now?”

Spy thought for a moment before coming to a decision. “Non. I believe a different method may improve your behavior much quicker.” He leaned in, his breath tickling your neck and sending a shiver down your spine. “If you promise to keep your focus in battle, I’ll fuck and spank you like that after every victory. Does that sound reasonable?”

You had to keep yourself from outright moaning at the very thought. A deep breath steadied your nerves just enough for you to respond with a nervous laugh. “Every night? I don’t know if I can manage that.” Oh, but you wanted to try. You very much wanted to try.

Spy smirked, reading you like a book. “Such an eager little thing. You will manage just fine.” He kissed your forehead before swatting your sore ass one last time, appreciating the way you yelped and practically jumped into his arms on instinct. “I have every confidence in you, petite fleur.”

[tv-ajax]

I mentioned in my previous post that gender affirming care is beginning to become an actual possibility for me so I've been seriously thinking about some of the choices I wanna make and confronting some facts about my identity.

I've come to realize that I may in fact be genderflux, which has been an interesting but unsurprising discovery. it won't change anything about what I want to do or how I've been presenting myself but it's now just something I keep in the back of my mind now.

gotta say the flag is kinda ugly though, regardless it's beginning to grow on me and I mean it worked out as a color palette so whatever.

Yes I know existence is spellt wrong I couldn't be bothered to fix it.

[zebratimw]

[twilightarcade]

that's a weird dog

[avatardoggo]

i like a man and he likes me too 🫣 🤭

[steampoweredskeleton]

.

Ignore

[continuallycowardlycod]

Ars Paradoxica school au but it's a high school where all the kids are obsessed with the drama in the science and maths block.

I have a rough outline for the first two arcs of the plot but don't know where to go from there.

Mr Partridge is the head of Maths, Mr Barlowe also works there too and both their wives are quite involved with the school for various reasons ( I haven't decided whether I actually want them working there or not yet).

Dr Grissom showed up and got immediately promoted to head of science, the rumours as to how vary between her bribing the headteacher or being a time traveling scientist with knowledge far ahead of the current time. Or maybye she's just good at her job.

Mr Wyatt works there too along side Ms Roberts, who's happy to finally be able to teach instead of constantly being on supply duty.

The school ends up getting shut down when some government guy shows up and one of the Chemistry teachers commits arson.

[ruthlesslistener]

"I didn't mean to trigger! We BOTH hurt each other!" And the trigger in question is... (squints eyes) "Being called a Pedophile over different headcanons" . You sound like a huge asshole right now, just saying. I'm not even the person who sent that ask lol.

Dude. Its just you who was wrong. Why you gotta make things about yourself again...

I'm not saying that what I did wasn't wrong, but it also wasn't intentional, was the thing, and I never meant to call anon themselves a pedophile. I was talking about the ideology and the very specific 'its okay because even if they're physically a child they're mentally an adult' talking point, operating off of the assumption that that was what the conversation was about as well as the fact that I assumed everyone would realize that just because you're regurgitating a talking point from a specific group doesn't mean that you are part of said group or believe in their beliefs. As it turns out, that wasn't what it was about at all, I was unclear that I do not in any way think that what you like in fiction is a solid indicator of who you are as a person, and that's where my error lay.

I'm also not the only one in the wrong here, because I kept repeatedly saying that I fucked up, that I was done with the conversation and didn't want to talk about that topic because it made me very uncomfortable, yet people still kept sending me asks about it and blowing off my very real distress about it. THAT'S where I'm not in the wrong, and that's why I pointed it out. I'm not making this about myself, I'm specifically pointing out that it was a two-way fight where both people were in error. And yes, by 'both people' I'm very much including me. Because I very much charged into the a china-shop conversation with all the subtlety and thought of a moose in rut (that's where I'm at fault), but also because people kept ignoring my explanations about it and jumping to conclusions/saying I was saying things that I very explicitly stated that I did not mean and was regretful for letting the error come about in the first place. THAT'S where I'm not at fault.

No, anon is not a pedophile and was not talking about pedophilic talking points. I also very much never called them that specifically, or did it with the intent to drag anyone who thinks like that under the umbrella of 'very real dangerous sexual predator'. I have zero desire to redtag people or use my apparent fame to drag people through the muck, or make them stop having headcanons different than my own. I made a poorly-phrased quip about something I thought was a nonissue on a website where people DO jump to absolute conclusions about a person's character based on what they like in completely fictional content and then got severely fucking turned around, which prompted me say more bullshit about something that wasn't even close to the case of what I was angry about.

I was in the wrong there and I fully admit it, but you also have to believe that I'm genuine when I say that it was a mistake and that I'm just as turned around about it as everyone else, because that's really all that I can do here.

[running-in-the-dark]

I know I've been particularly incoherent for the past few days (again), and it's so dramatic and ridiculous but it seriously feels like something is punishing me. I just want to like things a normal amount. I just want to like people and characters a normal amount.

I don't want to become so fully obsessed that literally nothing else exists and thinking about anything else feels like my brain is being stabbed with a thousand tiny knives. I don't want to need to find every piece of information I possibly can on whoever it is this time. I don't want to feel like I'm (literally) losing my mind when I see them. I don't want any of this!

I can not believe that I exist as a human being on this stupid planet just to get obsessed with people over and over and over again forever.

[caffeinatedopossum]

I feel like I have an unacceptably low level of control over my body. Like obviously there are some things that no one can control but I have like actual big problems because of it. I'm not really sure how to describe it but it's not just me being really clumsy (although that is an effect of it) or even the tics I have.

It's like I can feel my body moving wrong constantly but I can't correct it and it hurts and it sucks and I'm tired. I'm tired of hurting myself, making mistakes, breaking things, acting like it's fine when in reality I'm constantly afraid of how much any movement I make next could hurt me. I need to move to stay sane, I want to workout and get stronger and go on walks with my friends. I wanna get better. I can't even roll over in bed without pain and I'm just so tired.

[sprinklethetangerine]

In some other universe, I would be playing piano or violin or guitar or the drums.

In some other universe, I would be doing martial arts or ballet or archery.

In some other universe, I would be a scientist or an author.

But in this universe, I am an artist, and I wish I was in another fucking universe.

[piningprecussionist]

jason kim your ex is on tumblr now https://www.tumblr.com/thesushiguyy

Who...?

Oh. The guy from Ushi Bar, right.

We never really dated? He did help me move my stuff to Hollie's place though- that was... nice of him.

[termitesisagrandslam]

anyone else ever have that thing where you'd actively downplay unhealthy attitudes to casual friends/acquaintances bc you dont wanna be too "heavy" with people you arent very close with but then it backfires bc those people think you genuinely dont take any of it seriously and distance themselves from you because they think youre a mess with no self awareness?

[its-captain-sir]

.

[technologyvoid]

Ok, alright