#it was my own fault for being on fucking tiktok but i am stupid

[dapper-lil-arts]

So uh. My freelance work here is kind of dying.

I thought i'd keep my long-term followers on the know-how, so i might as well write about my current circumstances here, give y'all an update, so to speak.

So, for several reasons, most of them not even my fault, i've been getting less and less commissions, almost none, actually, and the ones i get are usualy on the cheaper side, which is bad concidering that this is my livelihood, commission money pays my bills, my groceries, and my taxes, and now i sure as hell am strugling to imagine this will sustain me for long. Twitter is a sinking ship ever since elon went over, Specificaly for people like me. I had just broken into 12k followers there, a huge milestone for me, and then i got shadowbanned, and for the last few months i've gotten *nothing*. It's completely dead, i'm stagnated there, all my arts are censored, and there's no way for me to undo it or fix it, and so i've gotten less and less comms out there, which sucks because its the only reason i was even on that stupid site. Here on tumblr, meanwhile, the CEO went on a massive transphobic streak, and a lot of lgbt folk (which composed a lot of my following,) decided to jump ship, and i sure as hell dont blame them, but sadly that's more potential costumers that bailed, and there's no proper website to go to. Anywhere i'd go, i'd be starting from scratch again, which would be utterly disheartening and frustrating, and there no website that is kind to artists, with no algorythim, that also have a messaging system (the latter being ESSENTIAL to the way i do comms) So i'm kind of stuck. I just. have nowhere to go, and nothing to do. And last but not least, my own fault, I've just been drawing and creating what *I* specificaly want, on an hedonistic streak this year. That's why theres so much pony bs on this blog now, and why i was straight up posting poetry a while back, and have written hundreds upon hundreds of fanfiction pages in the last few months; Which, unfortunately, is a terrible business decision if your intent is making money. Which I surely should have prioritized, but in the end, its not up to me, its up to the costumers... So now i'm a bit stuck. I've enjoyed the things ive drawn and written more than anything i've ever done, and yet, i've never been less successful on the actual business side. I'm still considering my venues, my possibilities, but there's not many. Trying to get a job would certainly pull me away from creation, and i'd hate it regardless of what it was, and on another venue, theres no guarantee that going back to furry titties would bring me money.

and that's whats heartbreaking about it too. no matter how much effort i put on my work, theres no guarantee of sucess, so why even spend time trying to craft a masterpiece? why not just follow trends and make a tiktok account or whatever the fuck makes money these days. I'd rather not, frankly. And i wont. Well, that's about it. Thanks for reading this update, that's how my life is goin atm. i'm going to continue doing as i am right now, but yknow... I'm not sure what i should do, if you want to give me suggestions, feel free.

[callsign-bunnie]

Wow… I always thought you were inclusive to all fans. Guess not.

Spoilers

I tried to be, and I still try to be to MOST fans, but I have limits and I have lines. I know it's probably been obvious, but I've really drawn back from being socially active in the fandom. I take stands, occasionally, but for the most part, I just block and move on. My block list on tiktok is long, because if I don't like content, I block rather than get upset.

I don't really look at my home page, anymore. Going onto AO3 hits me with so many (niche and specific to me) triggers in a day, that my reason for not reading others' works has shifted from, even though I'm working on managing it, my Dyslexia to just being unable to navigate my own triggers. This isn't anyone's fault, it's mine.

If I'm being honest? My mental health is in the dumpster and while this has a wide variety of reasons, if I can protect it in any way I can, I will. And if this includes having to tell a certain group of fans that they're not welcome on my blog? Unfortunately, that's what has to happen.

I'm not a stranger to fandom wars, as stupid as I think they are, I'm not a stranger to the aggression that happens here. And I have, definitely, been on the other side a few times. My first proper introduction to fandom was Supernatural and FNAF. I STILL deal with seeing posts talking about how a ship I didn't ship is superior to one I do ship for no fucking reason. I understand liking a character, and I understand having villain characters that you still like and love, and I can appreciate the "he's my precious pookie bear and does nothing wrong" mindset to a certain extent.

But I think ignoring Makarov's actions, even if he's a fictional character, even if it's just a game, is ignorant, in today's climate. A prime example of why I cannot get behind it is Russian Terminator. I have... so many reasons I can go through why this man is just awful, but my wife is slightly more educated, so I'll let her take the reigns on that one if she wants. However, he sucks. Objectively. But because he's masked and ripped, I see so many edits of him. So many.

I see people call themselves his "simps" and actively ignore and block those who try to point out his horrific actions and opinions and views and values to them. This man is not a fictional character. He's a real person.

I have always been a huge advocate for "live and let live" in fandom spaces. To an extent that even my wife and I get into arguments over it. My only limit seems to be pedophilia, for personal reasons. And I am not telling you to stop writing Makarov. I'm not even telling you not to find him hot. You can giggle and kick your feet when he "activates your praise kink" in the first mission, I don't care I won't stop you.

But I don't want that in my own space. I protect my peace. This ranges from silly things that just bother me (pricegraves) to big things like this. As my wife stated, Graves committed war crimes. Yes. He killed civilians, and that's inexcusable. But, I feel like this is comparing a passion killing, to systematic murder. Graves would have committed those crimes in any country, but the US. France, England, pretty much any country he could have gotten away with it.

Makarov targeted a country of Arabic people, because he knew about the aggression and islamophobia that exists in the west. He knew that if he pulled some strings a little, he could very easily turn a country just looking for peace into a country of terrorists, in the western media's eyes. This is irredeemable in my eyes.

So, no. I try to be inclusive. Pricegraves fans are still welcome to interact with me. They know by now that I won't write it, I don't really entertain it, and to go to my wife. The same for FarahAlex shippers, and really anyone who ships something on my No-Ship list. (Though please get the memo on that second ship, I'm never gonna budge, I'm sorry.)

I'm sorry if you feel alienated, I know it probably sucks. Trust me, I understand. But, unfortunately, I want to protect my peace, and I want my blog to continue to be my own safe space.

Thank you for understanding.

[temperancemoon]

Rant

Ok so I know I've been unactive lately cuz of adulting but also because of tiktok and waifspo been fucking up the OG coquette for me (ofc I'm not saying I'm out of the subculture) but it's heartbreaking how nani a woman who created this aesthetic for ppl who feel like they don't belong in the nymphet and doelet aesthetic because of racism, homobpia, fatbopia,etc has been twisted into some old money,white girl aesthetic and the fact that ppl took it upon themselves to think this is what coquette is all about it's just disgusting I liked it when it wasn't a popular aesthetic and it was just girls hanging out and being themselves and everyone accepted each other for who they are and the clothing and our lifestyle isn't judged at all us OG are actually original whereas tiktok coquettes judge you for not being rich or not having a certain lifestyle or not even having a Gucci perfume it's like the original meaning of coquette has been out of existence the way that it been revolved into a totally different aesthetic it's just weird and wild and some of my other friends that was in the aesthetic feels like they have to leave the aesthetic because how much it was upsetting them and its totally tiktok and waifspo's fault for this happening

I just wanted to express my anger because even tho most people think this is just an aesthetic but for me it's really who I am and I found the aesthetic that accepts me for being me instead of changing my likes and identity now since tiktok fucked that up ofc I'm not saying tiktok coquette made me leave I never ever leave this aesthetic ever but it's sad to see how OG coquettes especially the creator nani who put her heart and soul into making and spreading this aesthetic now have been tainted all cuz of some stupid app full of bitch ass ppl who can't stop but steal and recreate aesthetics into they're own horrible vision

[enha-ypen]

I Almost Wish We Never Met

We dated for about 4 months, and those months has taught me a lot. Back then I was too naive cause I was clueless about love I didn't know how much it would destroy me.

I thought he was my everything. And if I'm being honest I can't really move on from what we had before although it's toxic. I don't even know why I feel this way. Sometimes I would sit by myself and wonder what would happen if he was willing to changed himself for me but I know it's impossible.

I thought he would be the one to be there for me when I am at my lowest but turns out he was the only reason I was at my lowest which is so fucked up.

I thought if I date someone older than me it would be easier. But no it's all about being mature if I'm being deadly honest I don't care about age I just want a healthy and mature relationship.

His actions hurts me, his words haunts me. Everything he does was slowly destroying me, thank goodness I was brave enough to break up with him. It hurts me so much I couldn't bare staying.

Being in a relationship is not just about communication. You have to actually understand each other and willing to change yourself for each other. What's the point of communicating if you can't understand each other, nothing changed.

That nights after he saw me cry after he saw how much he hurt me I thought he would try to change for me I thought that after he see how miserable I am towards his action he would try and change so I wouldn't get hurt by his action. But I was wrong.

It was stupid of me thinking he would actually change himself for me.

It's not that I don't accept who he was, but it hurts me. I defended his name when everyone spoke so badly of him only for him to prove them right.

Up until today I'm still repeating those things you said to me in my head. It hurts me every single time we argue you would follow your emotion instead of settling it properly and try to have a slow talk with me you would swear at me spit all those harsh words at me as if I don't have feelings.

If only you knew how much i actually love you, how many time i forced myself to stay how many time i gave you a chance only for you to repeat the same mistake over and over again. I never really healed from what you did to me i just forced myself to swallow everything and forget about what happen about how dirty you did me.

With tears in my eyes and shaky hands i begged you to change for me, you promised you'll change you told me you were trying to change but everything still feels the same. No improvement nothing just me and my hopes towards you.

You try to break up with me twice and I was fine with it although deep down i know it hurts even my own brother saw how badly i cried. But when i try to breakup with you all of the sudden it's my fault.

You told me it's always you the one who apologize even though you did nothing wrong. You told me even though it's my fault you always apologize when in fact i don't even know what i did wrong, and when i ask you what i did wrong you wouldn't tell me. So tell me what exactly did i do?

I don't get you. We dated for 4 months yet i still can't understand you. You reposted on tiktok saying you accept who i am you accepted my mood swings and everything but when times comes you have to actually face my mood swings you decide to start an arguement over the smallest shit. Somehow everything i do could become an issue in your eye.

Every single time we argue i would shut everyone out and bottle my feelings. But you did the opposite, you would repost about how you are tired and everything you would harm yourself by doing the barcode and post it in your whatsapp status, you would post tiktok videos in your status how everything is messed up about how you felt.

I felt completely ignored, it felt as if you never once cared about how i feel it's always about you. You post all that shit it's like you want people to know about us about how we're arguing but you posting it makes people think badly about me as if i'm the bad guy.

For 4 months i lost myself while trying to fix us. I wonder if ever think about how dirty you did me, how you always gaslight me and manipulate me how you always think about yourself.

12345678910

aight that's all i could write for now :(

sorry for if i yap too much it's just been bothering for the last couple weeks.

[justmeventingiguess]

Dear H,

I wish I hated you. I wish I didn’t care what you thought of me. I wish we never met. I wish you weren’t one of my best friends. I wish I didn’t love you.

But I do, don’t I? I’ve been in love with you since I got to know you. I’ve fallen head over heels, and I wish I didn’t. It’s been a year and a half now, since I’ve realized, but no matter what, I can’t move on.

Oh believe me, I’ve tried. First Z, then JR, and hell, I almost kissed B to feel something. But it all comes back to you. It comes back to you and the stupid playlists and the songs of the day and the place we met. I haven’t had someone who knows me like you since my ex. But there’s one problem:

You don’t love me. You never have, you never will. Not like that. I’ve tried all my tricks. I waited for you to realize J wasn’t the one. Yall had a good run, and you still are both my friends. I can only hope that you don’t blame me for your relationship going up in flames. I know I helped you two get together, and I know it was bad how things ended. I’m sorry, even though the breakup wasn’t my fault.

Then, I confessed. God H, I told you. On February 1st 2023 I told you I liked you. That I had a crush on you since October 2022. And we both ignored it. It wasn’t brought up again except when I cracked jokes about how I only fall for people who will never like me back because they’re in love with someone else. I don’t know if you ever laughed about it. I had to. If not, I’d cry.

We did get closer, even though we were no longer in the same state. And I saw the videos you were reposting on TikTok. Videos about a crush on girl you liked, from a different state, who looked just like me. I foolishly thought that this was it. I gave my heart away to the second person ever and she was finally, finally going to take it and place it next to her’s.

Then you told me you wanted M. It nearly broke me. But I didn’t let it. Because I knew M had a boyfriend. You knew that too. Because us three and J were all friends. You knew M had a boyfriend, and M knew there was something between yall. It never did get fully resolved, but as far as I knew, you moved on.

We only got closer after that. Every time I see your name, my heart flutters and I smile. I can’t go a day without talking about you to someone. You sneak your way into every thought I have ever had. I am truly in love with you.

And I thought that this was it. The past couple of days I’ve been dropping hints, and you’ve returned some. I even asked you to drinks (on a not date) next time I see you.

And then, K.

You just told me. What the fuck? I should be angry. I should want to scream at you to not fucking date her. Date me instead. She fucking hurt you, J, and me when we worked together. I should be pissed at you. Pissed at her for asking you out.

But do you know what I feel instead? Hurt. Not by you. But because I thought I had a chance. I thought that by poor unruly heart was finally going to be protected again. But instead, it isn’t. You just asked if you should date K.

No. You shouldn’t. You should date me. But you don’t want to date me. So instead, I don’t say that.

I tell you to follow your gut. I tell you to go out with her and test the waters if that’s what you want and think is right. You tell me that I’m smart and you want me to figure it out. But H, you don’t understand, I did. I figured it out.

I had to break my own heart tonight. I gave it to you a long time ago without you knowing, but I had to take it back. Then, I had to crush it in my hand and be okay with my heart not being alright. I don’t know when I will love again. I know I won’t get over you that easily. You’re still my best friend. I don’t want to lose that.

I told you that I can’t make the decision, but to remember that if you don’t date K now, you could possibly date her in the future. Maybe she’ll wait for you. But I can’t anymore. If I don’t move on, I don’t know if my heart can take it.

I love you, Hannah.

I’m sorry.

-KJ

[hadrianblackwaters]

I just saw a specific spoiler for Kenobi on tiktok and I am SCREAMING AND CRYING AND THROWING UP

[pennyserenade]

.

[beann-e]

inspiration from the tiktok audio “ I don’t love you i’m just passing the time “

This was never about you. Honestly you were surprised it took you so long to notice.

No that was a lie you weren’t surprised because it was his fault he never told you flat out that he wasn’t expecting much from you. It’s not that he wasn’t interested he just — he didn’t know what to do. Of course he thought you were beautiful and that’s what scared him but at the same time gave him the energy to talk to you.

His personality was known for leading him to talk to beautiful people.

He was sure he’d never date you because, his heart belonged to kiyoko .

No one could ever top her or at least that’s what he thought until you came along. Here you were in all your beauty putting anyone else to shame that dared to stand next to you.

You were perfect for him and after a couple months you were all his. He adored you even after highschool when you two finally decided to move in together.

he told you every day how much he loved you. His love even trickling down to his actions when he would ask you to do couple things appearing out of no where with a request

‘ y/n how about black hair dye huh ? wanna try something new together i’ll color my hair too ! ‘

you instantly agreeing to every ask all of them ranging from

‘ hey y/n , have you always been able to see? are you sure because you were squinting just awhile ago we can get you glasses I mean I don’t care about price if it’s for you —no no I think we should—let’s do black square rims ? i think they would fit your pretty face ‘

to

‘ babe when you do your makeup this time try some face designs their so cool I see them all the time on my instagram here — can I try ‘ him smiling before sitting next to you and guiding the eyeliner out of your reluctant hand a tight smile drawn across your face

Him smiling when you turned to the mirror to see a small black dot next to your lips. ‘ you look so pretty with it ‘

You hadn’t noticed until the volleyball reunion when you sat in a circle with all the old members and tsukishimas mouth spilling out his harsh words unbothered by your reaction “ why the hell do we have two kiyokos now? “

his glasses moving down on his nose as he spoke again “ y/n i’m sure we only need one I personally prefer the original she looks more “ his head tilted as his eyes ran over your new look “ natural“

“ yeah I was actually wondering that but I didn’t wanna bring it up first I um y/n are you trying to look like kiyoko or “

your small cough coming out and drawing all the attention back to you as you felt the same woman turn to face you her own eyes now seeing what the others were talking about “ of — of course not I — “

“ eh what the fuck “ your boyfriends voice coming out loudly as he now sat pissed off with the group “ are you pricks trying to say I couldn’t get over kiyoko or some shit “

“ what what no tanaka-san we “ sugawaras voice coming out to try to let the tension fizzle out

“ no because I’m feeling like there’s something being unsaid here“ he grunted “ if anyone has anything else to say badly about my s/o then they should just fuck off “

“ tanaka “ you screamed

“ no i’m tired of people thinking I can’t get shimizu out of my head I can —I can and I will “

“ y-you will ? “

“ I mean I have “ his eyes locked with yours as he spoke low “ I have “

The room grew quiet as he stood the chair he sat in being pushed back as he walked off you standing up too offering a small smile to everyone in the circle “ sorry if you’ll excuse me “

“ your good—I think he needs you a little bit more than we do right now“ daichis voice came out a bit more concerned than he wanted it too

Your figure being seen getting smaller and smaller as you ran after your boyfriend to the kitchen grabbing his arm loosely “ babe I “

“ let go y/n “

“ but I — tanaka what’s up why are you acting like this “

“ I said let the fuck go y/n “ his voice boomed as he yanked his arm from you your body moving back a little due to the strength he’d pulled it back with “ i’m going to go get a drink I can’t handle those assholes alone “

“ your — you’re not alone tanaka i’m with you ill handle them with you “

A smile slowly spreading across your face when he stopped moving only to turn over his shoulder biting his lip as he stood thinking to himself his hand pointing to the kitchen “ for some reason that only makes me need a drink even more “

You nodded softly as he rolled his eyes at you “ you do understand correct ? “

“ yeah yeah no of course “ you smiled tightly as he walked off and you walked back to the crowded living room trying to contain your tears that wanted to spill so badly usually when he acted like this he’d drink himself to sleep.

You sat down on the floor letting yourself join the huddle as everyone spoke you getting lost in your thoughts. It wasn’t often that this happened but when it did it never went the way you would want it to. He would always get distant instead of becoming clingy like you would rather. He’d become meaner with his words instead of thinking of you before speaking like he usually would.

“ prick only ever thinking of himself —a stupid child“ you whispered out thinking of your boyfriend and his future actions that you could already predict

“ yeah shoyos gotta be— the asshole requested it “ kageyama whispered to you as you turned to see hinata sitting across from you waving to you when he met your gaze making you speak softly with a smile “ sweet “

“ hey y/n wanna play dare or dare with us ? “

you shook your head laughing a bit “ what are we teenagers again“ you laughed a bit louder “ but no i’ll — i’ll pass “

“ aw come on your the only other chick here besides kiyoko “

“ no no no you guys go ahead i’ll just watch “

everyone sighed as they began the game you hearing loud steps pound through the house as your boyfriends loud voice cut through the laughter “ what you pricks started without me “

“ yeah uh just join tanaka- san “

“ fuck yeah “ he wobbled over to sit next to daichi not locking eyes with you only smiling at everyone around the table taking a long swig of the liquor bottle he’d sat on the table in his adventure over.

The air that was once tense seemed to calm down as everyone started drinking and suggesting dares. You smiling as you looked at everyone this had to be the best night of your life finally getting to see all your friends again after kageayma and hinata traveled non stop and everyone else never had the time to have a party.

You patted yourself on the back seeing everyone having such a good night.

“ ok ok last dare “ nishinoya burped out as he shakily raised his hand already drunk off his ass his words sluring as he spoke “ I dare tanaka—san to “ he took another gulp from the bottle only to push it aside and open the new one that laid dormant between the two of you “ to kiss the prettiest person in the room “

Everyones eyes widening as they all broke out into a laughing fit “ fucking nishinoyas so stupid “

“ this asshole just wasted a dare on an obvious answer “

hinata rubbing the said males back as his head finally dropped to the table cheek hitting the brown table as he laughed “ ha yeah sure ‘m stupid —real stupid “

he smiled drunkenly laughing at the tables comments “ haha its obviously not that obvious “

Your heart dropped smile only following as you looked from nishinoyas eyes to the scene playing in front of you. Your boyfriends lips locked on another pair that weren’t your own. His hands coming up to the back of her head to push her closer to him as he hungrily pressed his lips onto hers

Her eyes wide as his were closed almost like he was enjoying this “ what “ you whispered out as a rough hand came in contact with tanakas shoulder grabbing it and pulling him back

“ what the fuck you asshole “ tsukishimas voice was threatening as he stared down on the male genuinely confused “ what the hell do you think your doing “

“ hey blondy is that anyway to speak to someone older than you“ he scoffed “ mind your manners child “

“ mind— mind your manners? “ your voice was short and quiet as your eyes darted around the room eyes blinking back the surprise they held as everyone turned to face you only making this deepening pit in your stomach grow.

“ why— tanaka— san why would you do that “

“ what — whatd I do this time suga huh — first it was having a crush on kiyoko everyone was screaming how I wouldn’t get her ha “ he scoffed “ fucking assholes were right so here I am with a fucking backup “

He shook his head as he leaned it back to stare up at the ceiling “ shitty arts and crafts project of building her because I couldn’t have the original — fucking sad “

your heart broke “ sitting here pretending kissing y/n is the same as kissing kiyoko — hell I didn’t even wanna kiss y/n right now i wanted to kiss kiy— “

“ shitty asshole you just did “ tsukishimas voice raised his eyes holding the anger you couldn’t even hold for yourself “ you just did right in front of your s/o “

“ well with them looking the same how the fuck was I suppose to tell “ he laughed “ that’s what you said earlier right ? so what’s so wrong with me enforcing it ? “ he scoffed “ everyone already believed it right so why the fuck does it matter they look the same, act the same , talk the fucking same so in the end I kissed y/n right— ha “

your body hurt just like your heart and your brain was spinning “ why would you — why would you date me tanaka if you didn’t want me “

“ did it look like I was gonna get kiyoko anytime soon — your a ditz — the whole time i’m doing this to get over her and you just became her “

you sat silently blinking back the tears that you held throat holding a sob that wanted to make its way out “ get the fuck out “

“ excuse m—”

“ GET THE FUCK OUT “ you screamed your tears disappearing and turning into anger “ get out get out get out “ you screamed hands reaching out to punch him over the table as you repeated the phrase

“ ok— ok stop stop “

“ no no no get the fuck out I paid for this I paid I paid “ you screaming like a child throwing a tantrum in a supermarket him only moving to stand and walk to the bedroom drunkenly to grab his clothes “ just let me grab my stuff i’ll be out of your hair for the night “

you raged as he made his way into your once shared bedroom forgetting the living room full of people as you ran after him to rip the clothes out of his hand that he held. All the items you’d bought with your hard earned money. The shoes you’d spent over 50$ on for his birthday in his hand along with the limited edition shirt you’d bought for him after he begged for it screaming that was his favorite player.

The items that you’d stayed up four hours for the night of just to buy it for him with your paycheck that week. Your thoughts only making you more upset when you thought back to everything you’d done for the male and the stuff he’d done for y—

he’d done absolutely nothing for you in this whole relationship and this only pissed you off more at the thought

Your heart broke again when you noticed you were already screaming at him again “ get the hell out “

“ i’m going fuck y/n “

“ go faster asshole “

“ what so no clothes ? “ he laughed “ come on that’s pretty harsh —baby it’s cold out give me a jacket or something at least until morning when I come back home “

“ morning “ you scoffed “ you’ll need a jacket for awhile tanaka because your not coming back in my house so freeze your ass off out there or go with your high school crush and her husband “

His once smiling face turning into an angry one as he stepped closer to you the alcohol spilling from his breath and onto your face as he stared down at you “ the fuck are you bringing that up for “

“ your the one who went around kissing a married woman “ you were gonna rub this all in his face. You couldn’t wait until kiyokos husband beat up the drunken deadbeat in front of you.

“I thought it was you “

“ yeah sure after you gave me a makeover to look like her i’m sure you did tanaka “

“ so fucking ungrateful “

“ oh now i’m ungrateful “

“ yeah you are “ his voice got louder as he pointed between you and him “ I made you into the woman I love — the perfect woman you should be on your knees thanking me right now “

“ aw should I “ you sighed “ god what’s wrong with me “

“ exactly now give me my stuff back i’m going to bed this is fucking with my head ’m drunk and I wanna bask in it for a minute — maybe forget you just tried to kick me out so I don’t get on your ass in the morning “

“ yeah of course babe you need your rest “ you nodded as he walked towards your door to pick up where you’d thrown his clothes only for you run and jump on his back arms wrapping around his neck your legs wrapping around his torso “ i’m gonna kill you— you asshole “

“ what the fuck “

“ then i’m gonna lock your body in my fucking freezer or even have daichi fake an arrest you prick— you’ve made my life a living hell — and now you wanna sleep— in my house “

You weren’t sure how he ended up leaving all you knew is that your heart seriously broke when you finally locked the door and rested your forehead against it. Tears spilling from your eyes for the first time that night. You’d gone crazy you had to have because just a few hours ago you almost choked the male to death after jumping on his back like a pro wrestler you were really going crazy

Your body relaxed as you felt a warmth make it’s way over to you only for it to tense when a familiar hand caressed your back and tried to lift your upper body up and away from the floor you’d fell onto sometime that night “ come on y/n —at least let me help you to the couch “ a sigh made it’s way through the house “ I promise you can wallow in your shitty tear soaked shirt after I make sure your comfortable and not hurting “

a cough quickly followed “ physically that is — this shits gotta hurt emotionally “

Your words coming out in a slurred whine like a child “ but it’s dirty — it needs to be cleaned “

“ would I tell you to go sit down if it wasn’t “ he spit back as he finally got you to fall into his chest after leading you over to the couch turning off the hallway light and leaving the lamp next to the couch on.

Him sighing out and shifting uncomfortably as you cried into his shirt causing him to need to distract himself from the crying woman in his arms. How the hell did he end up the nice one in this situation

Why did he push everyone out the house? He could’ve left hell he could’ve copied nishinoya and stolen the leftover four liquor bottles you had laid out on the table before everything happened

he wasn’t a comforting person so why would he shoo everyone else that could’ve helped you away?

he scoffed as he tried to fiddle with his sleeves only to take off his glasses and clean them over and over again

“ how many times are you gonna clean them “ you sniffled into his chest

“ until you finish acting like a baby — I feel like I have a kid ? Like i’m a parent I mean what do parents do” his hand softly came down on your head to pet your hair softly unsure why to do in this situation “ I uh— do you want warm milk ? chocolate or strawberry or is it my baby’s bedtime ? “

“ shut up tsuki “ he laughed as he felt you snuggle up closer to him “ so why are you — of all people —the only one that stayed everyone else must think i’m crazy or something “

“ eh I mean they already thought you were we were making bets before we walked in here on what you’d changed this time to look like kiyoko “

you slapping his arm softly before laughing “ god do I really look like her “

His once stoic face grew sad as his eyes ran over your facial features his eyebrows furrowing as he looked down on you “ yeah — yeah you really do — that crazy asshole “ he shook his head hand reaching out to touch your hair again feeling how burned it was from constantly flat ironing it and curling it like tanaka wanted “ god what did he do to you “

“ build a y/n “ you laughed as he stood up his own words following quickly after yours “ come on “

“ what “ you said as you stared at his open outstretched hand “ what’s going on “

“ let’s go “ you shook your head no “ look do you wanna change back or no “

You swallowed the lump in your throat before nodding slowly and taking his hand to travel with him to the bathroom. Him speaking to you softly only loud enough for you to try and figure out some of the words you couldn’t.

“ for some reason I miss old y/n — and I guess I wouldn’t mind seeing em’ again preferably across the table from me in a booth at 2:30 saturday with strawberry cake in front us? “

[nonclassyparty]

firstly, tell me why i had that wooyoung shit figured OUT LMAOOO. I literally called it HAHAHA. the way i knew this fool was part of the fruit community

i love the idea that like this story and your writing in general continues to make me go, men ain’t shit fr. but then my tiktok has san getting scared while playing video games and mingi being called pink princess like 🧌.

reading this story with the prologue in mind is insane bc i get that technically no one has really done anything wrong yet ? per se. but san rlly is or ig…is going to be? a grade a asshole.

atp i can understand that sans not at fault (YET apparently) bc like, let’s be real LMAO the agreement was set in place and even y/n herself UNDERSTANDS it, she just continues to play into it bc of her feelings. i cant imagine how san ACTUALLY ends up fucking up (ig putting aside the fact that he couldn’t even be a friend or at the very least an acquaintance and help her w her assignment). like ik y/n probably WILL get mad but she doesn’t rlly hav the right to get mad at him for kissing that girl watever her name is cus she and san aren’t exclusive. but like regardless of the fact, i’m stil obv rooting for y/n bc she’s going through it and she’s being treated terribly by so many ppl for stupid reasons, esp w the knowledge that they all think so shallowly of her and don’t take into account any of her actual interests or experiences like damn.

AND THEN there’s like the fact that (entirely from context and my assumptions alone) y/n didn’t even outright SAY any of this or tell san how she felt until she wrote that letter AFTER THE FACT like ??? that’s INSANE like my brain is scrambling to finish the puzzle before i even hav all the pieces. like ik u said ur not sure about the ending but does san get the letter ? do we even see how he reacts to it ???? (i’m assuming she’ll tell wooyoung or hongjoong tbh)

ALSO i can’t get over the description of why yunho doesn’t like y/n like…damn, homie’s giving incel energy. giving nate jacobs wanting maddy to be a virgin energy (but not nate jacobs wanting maddy cus yunho apparently can’t handle high maintenance bad bitches). idk he’s giving very small peepee, in the closet, daddy issues energy and yeosangs got his own issues that we don’t even know about yet like don’t let me find out i’ll probably lose it.

i’m LITERALLY rambling nonsense and i’m at work rn. anyways amazing work ONCE AGAIN. i cant get over how you write and how you flesh out the characters. cant wait for my boy mingi to be properly introduced. let’s see how my emotions handle that.

-🧃

there is so much to discuss in this message hold on;

first of all, wooyoung being part of the skittles squad well idk how you got that right i'll be honest with you

this is exactly why when i write i have to stay away from atz content bc i went and watched the new wanteez eps today and i just cant write afterwards bc san is so fawking soft and precious how am i supposed to write him as a fuckboy that breaks hearts??? at one point i was like 'damn i shouldve picked someone else as the fuckboy for starring role' and not HIM😭😭

about san fucking up, it will happen in act 8 and i cant say anything else without giving away spoilers but yes! san never promised her anything, yn is aware of it and she knows where the two of them stand deep down but she just doesnt want to accept it (spoiler: that will basically be what the next chapter is about). also keep in mind that the story doesnt end with the letter, there are a couple more chapters afterwards 😭

YUNHO. WAIT NOT TOO MUCH ON HIM?? thats still my man but i wasnt really going for that sort of energy but now re-reading the part about him, i could see why it might've came off like that 😭. basically, with yunho i was going for the type of guy that doesnt like spoilt girly girls who care about makeup, clothes and are shallow, that only dates girls who, by his standards, have some depth to them and are sorta not-like-other-girls but in a pinterest cottage core aesthetic way (kjsghdjfhkfdj??? idk if that makes sense but he likes sweet girls who he can bring back home to his parents basically. its pretty much what svoh yn was) and yet he would still sleep with starring role yn without a doubt 😭. he was inspired by many guys ive meet in college

yeosang's storyline...im kind of nervous about revealing it tbh, also mingi will be properly introduced in the next chapter! as something much more than just boyoung's friend.

thank you so much for this message, i always look forward to yours in particular and theyre so fun to read. i really appreciate them. i hope you have a good day 💝

[obsessive-daydreaming]

Y all have to understand that SuperStraight is extremely fucking transphobic and here’s why :

- It’s harmful to the way cis people see trans people.

This makes people think that trans people look a certain way, that trans woman look like men and trans men look like women, which is stupid. Some trans people look more feminine or masculine because they are comfortable with it.Are you gonna look at a masculine girl and give up on her because « She looks like a trans person ? » No, because you can’t be sure of that fact just by looking at her. You can’t deduce a girl has a dick because she looks masculine. That’s literally harmful to everyone.

- This is not a sexuality, it’s a preference. I am so fcking mad right now.

This whole sexuality thing is just cis men trying to divide trans women and cis women because they feel insecure in their own sexuality. They think loving a trans woman makes them gay, and that’s extremely stupid. You can be a lesbian and want to only have pussy. You can be a gay man and only want to have dick. You can’t create a whole sexuality just for that. This just proves that people don’t think trans women are women. Talking about women, let’s talk about the cis ones.

- Cis women only space or something.

Women are jumping at the opportunity because they feel like Trans people are « invading spaces made for women ». This is just cis people trying to act oppressed. People are saying that in a subreddit made for women, trans women that show their progress in their transition are getting more upvotes than cis women talking about their rapes. How is it their fault ? It’s literally other people, upvoting it because they think it’s neat, and you’re blaming the women for posting it ? I agree that it’s sad that your rape isn’t getting attention, because you need the support, but why blame trans people ? Beside, this subreddit isn’t just about trans women, why not blame the other posts that have gotten more upvote than yours ? I am sorry for that, but don’t blame trans people.

- Trans people forcing themselves on people ?????

Um. Okay. Now basically what they mean is that people are telling cis people that they are transphobic ??? For not wanting to ruck someone without their preferred genitals ??? The problem with that it’s... not trans people that says this. Most of the time it’s cis people that have no idea what they are talking about. I’ve been on TikTok, and Twitter, and even tumblr sometimes, but most of the times people that says this are cis people that think they have the right idea, but they’re wrong. Most trans people are kinda sad when they hear it, but they know it’s true.

- Gay people are joining this mess and that makes cis people thinks they’re are right. ( spoiler, they are not )

Also this whole thing about people saying that caused other members of the lgbtq+ to join the SuperStraight. Now there is SuperBi, SuperLesbian and SuperGay. You guys are literally oppressed how can you oppress someone else and not see what you are doing wrong, you fucking idiots. You can’t say « I respect trans people » and then join a group that oppress them. You can’t say just support a small fraction of the lgbtq+, that’s not how it works. How would you feel if someone respected trans people but joined a hate group towards gay people ? Yeah, that’s what I thought. You don’t have more of a right to talk against trans people because you’re in the gay community, you and I have had different experience of oppression, and you don’t know what you are talking about. Even if you’ve researched it, there is a difference.

- Plot holes. So. Many. Plot holes.

Riddle me this, if you don’t want to be in a relation with a trans women because she’s not cis, would you accept being in a relationship with a trans man ? Even if you know that he’s a man, even if you know he has a dick. After all, he was born with vagina, wasn’t he ? Y all seem to forget that some trans women do have vaginas. So what then ?? I mean sure, she’s not cis, but she’s got everything a cis women has. You do realize most trans women want and will try to have bottom surgery, right ? Right ??? The only reason why you wouldn’t want to be with her is maybe because she can’t bear children, but what about infertile women ? Is that different ?

I think that covers pretty much it. I’m sure I could find other things, and I’ll probably post other reasons why this « sexuality » is fucking stupid. Also did you have to colour you flag the colour of Pornhub AND Grindr AND Halloween ?

( Ps ; sorry if i talk a bit weird, English is not my first language )

( Another Ps ; People talk like trans people are literally everywhere. But they are really not ? Theres a study in 2016 that says that only 0.6 % of the population is trans. The only reason you see so much is because of the internet. There is never gonna have more trans people than cis people ( that’s a shame ), stop worrying for nothing )

[2dmenenthusiast]

Warmth - a Bakugou x Reader Christmas special

its finally done hhhhhh I love how I was just like “Oh yeah I’ll do a short little fic for Christmas” and then I ended up typing this long ass fic. I mean, its not that long but it took me days to write cuz I lack motivation always so it feels long lmao. Anyways, haven’t wrote for my explodey boy bakugou yet so here it is! Let me know if I gave the reader any specific pronouns or features by accident and I’ll fix it right away! I hope you all enjoy! Please feel free to reblog if you wanna give my fic more exposure, I'd really appreciate it 😚

Summary: You get caught in the middle of a snowstorm, and when you get home, you’re desperately craving the warmth of your exploding, ragey boyfriend. 

Word count: 3.3K

Warnings/other info: swearing, itty bitty reference to sexy times, spoiler for Bakugou’s hero name, just a lot of fluff (you guys are so mean to each other tho lmao)

You hated winter. Actually, scratch that. Let’s rephrase. You hate snow. No, you had nothing against the actual season. Winter brought you cute Christmas movies and catchy songs, as well as the gift-giving holiday itself. However, snow was a demon, and it could fuck right off. Especially when it was blowing directly into your face like it was now, your snow-covered boots trudging through the thick snow as you held grocery bags in each of your gloved hands. Even though you were wearing a thick winter coat and hat, and had your scarf covering half of your face, you felt like you were about to shiver out of your own skin and god you could barely fucking see with all of this snow going directly into your eyes.

“‘It’s right down the street, y/n, just walk there.’ What am I, fucking stupid?” you muttered.

You had figured it would be better to just walk to the store rather than using up gas or spending money on transportation, and fuck were you dumb for making that decision. Bakugou had warned you too, taking one look outside and telling you it would be better to just go get groceries tomorrow. But noooo, you just had to get it done today. And honestly, it looked like the roads were gonna be shitty for the next few days, so better now than later. Speaking of the roads, there were barely any cars driving on them, which was expected. The plow didn’t look like it had come through yet. However, a vehicle slowly came towards you, going under the speed limit to avoid sliding on the road, and you could hear The Christmas Song playing loudly from inside as it passed. Chestnuts roasting on an open fire? Yeah, the only thing going to be roasting on an open fire was your ass the second you walked through the door. And by an open fire, you meant the heater, which Bakugou better have on full fucking blast, or else you swore you were going to wring his neck.

As your apartment building became closer in view, you doubled your efforts and tried to speed up your pace, but the snow made it almost impossible when it was almost past your shins. Still, you grit your teeth and pushed through, letting out a relieved groan when you walked through the front door of your building and felt heat blast you in the face. Releasing a sigh, your grip tightening on the grocery bags as you traversed up the stairs to your apartment, and when you jammed your keys in the lock and pushed through the door, it was just as you suspected. Too fucking cold.

“He’s dead. He’s a dead man. He knew I was going out in the fucking arctic tundra that is the city right now, but he chose to keep the thermostat at fucking 70 degrees?!” you thought, grumbling to yourself as you set the bags down in the kitchen and marched over to the thermostat.

“Hey, take your fucking boots off, will you? You’re tracking snow.”

You raised your middle finger in the direction the voice came from, not even looking back

at your boyfriend as you turned the dial of the thermostat and watched the numbers go up until you were satisfied. Turning to look at Bakugou with a glare, you said something that he could tell was filled with frustration and anger, but he could barely hear you when you were talking through your scarf, raising an eyebrow as if to silently say, “what the fuck are you saying?” Rolling your eyes, you toed off your boots and hung up your coat, taking off your gloves and hat next before unwrapping your scarf from around your face and neck.

“I said you’re a fucking maniac. How are you not freezing?” you asked, hurrying past Bakugou to your shared bedroom so that you could change into something warmer.

Bakugou just scoffed, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest as he watched you change. “You remember what my quirk is, right?”

Slipping one of Bakugou’s large hoodies over your head, you let out a sigh. “Oh right, I forgot that along with the ability to blow shit up, you’re also a walking heat box,” you said, throwing the hood over your head as you turned to your boyfriend with a small pout.

He just looked at you with an amused smirk, a single eyebrow quirked as he looked you up and down. He had to admit, he’d never get tired of seeing you in his clothes. Though he quickly became worried when a mischievous grin appeared on your face, and he had no time to react when you were running forward and slipping your hands underneath his shirt, wrapping your arms around his bare torso.

“Gah! Shit, you’re fucking freezing!” he yelled, trying to push you off of him, but you just tightened your hold as you buried your face in his chest. “Hey! Don’t you get comfy, get the hell off of me.”

“But you’re so waaarm,” you whined, looking up at him with cute puppy dog eyes. You weren’t lying, he was very warm, and you’d be damned if you pulled away from him anytime soon.

Letting out a growl through clenched teeth, Bakugou gripped your thighs in his hands and suddenly lifted you, and you let out a noise of surprise, not expecting your feet to come off the ground as your legs automatically wrapped around him so that you wouldn’t fall. Carrying you back into the living room, he threw you on the couch and pinned you with a glare when you tried to move, not walking away until he was certain you wouldn’t get up from that couch. Once he turned his back to you, you sat up on your knees and looked over the back of the couch as Bakugou walked into the kitchen, bending over the reach into one of the bags, and holy fuck his ass in those sweatpants was downright fucking sinful. As the cool kids would say, he was, “double cheeked up on a Thursday afternoon.”

“It’s Saturday, and stop staring at my ass, you damn perv,” Bakugou grumbled without looking back at you, and you pursed your lips as you raised your hands in surrender.

“Not my fault you’re so dummy thicc.”

“For the love of god, stop watching TikTok.”

You just laughed and stood from the couch, walking into the kitchen and leaning against the counter as you watched your boyfriend put the groceries away. “You don’t have to do that, you know. I can put them away.”

“Nonsense. You were just out freezing your ass off in the snow. Now get back on that couch before I throw you on it again,” he said.

You smiled at the kind gesture. While Bakugou was often rude and uncouth, not making an effort to hide his frustration or disdain for certain people or things, there was a soft spot deep down in there, and you were lucky enough to be one of the few people he showed it too. Of course, it was hardly willingly. You were persistent as hell, getting under his skin the moment you started going to UA with him. However, he’d be lying if he said he didn’t like your persistence.

Letting out a small hum to yourself, you leaned over and pressed your lips against his cheek, his skin warming up under your touch. “You’re cute.”

A light pink dusted his cheeks as you walked back to the couch and plopped down onto the soft cushions, grabbing the fluffy blanket hanging over the back and draping it around your shoulders. No, if anyone in this relationship was cute, it was you. With the way you stole his clothes and just seemed to always make them look better, or made him his bento lunch with cute little notes inside that he secretly kept in his desk and would look at whenever he needed a little pick-me-up. You probably didn’t realize how much he noticed every little thing you did, but he did, and it made him fall more in love with you every day. Of course, he wasn’t very eloquent and it was hard for him to express how he felt with words, but he was a believer in how actions spoke louder.

“Hey, dipstick! You almost done? I’m about to freeze my ass off over here and I need my cuddle buddy,” you yelled from the living room, and Bakugou’s eyebrow twitched as he scoffed, running a hand over his face. You just had to ruin it, didn’t you?

“Yeah, yeah, wait a sec, would you? Not my fault your body can’t regulate temperature like a normal fucking human being.”

Your head popped up, looking over the couch at your boyfriend with an incredulous look on your face. “‘Normal?!’ What about you is normal, Mr. I-get-unnecessarily-ragey-and-blow-shit-up? Hm?”

“Oh and you think you’re so normal when you bought fucking ice cream in the middle of goddamn winter,” he said, holding up the tub of ice cream you recently bought on your trip to the store.

“Ice cream is good for any time of the year! And you have no room to judge me. It could be a hundred degrees out and you’ll be scarfing down a bowl of spicy ramen like it’s your last meal.”

“You don’t hear me complaining about it though, do you?”

You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest as you pouted. “Jerk. you know, I hope your quirk just one day combusts and you blow up your own face.”

“Fuckface.”

“Asshole.”

“Dumbass.”

“Mama’s boy.”

Eyes widening, he dropped the last grocery bag on the floor and stomped over to the couch. If you were any normal person, you probably would’ve been cowering in fear just from the pro-heroes intense stair. But you had been with Bakugou for a while now, and what “normal” person would date someone whose first draft of their hero name was Lord Explosion Murder anyway? He placed his hands on the top of the couch, looking down at you as you stared up at him with a shit-eating grin on your face.

“What the fuck did you just say?”

“Oh, I think you heard me.”

“Take it back or I’m blowing up all of your Deku shirts.”

You gasped dramatically, placing both of your hands over your heart as you gaped at your boyfriend before narrowing your eyes. “You wouldn’t.”

He didn’t say anything, simply raising an eyebrow at your challenge before walking towards your shared bedroom without another word. Oh. Oh, he was being serious. Scrambling off the couch, you ran after him.

“No! Nononono, wait. Ugh, All right!”

He turned to look at you, one of your shirts of the Pro hero Deku held tight in his fist and a smirk on his face that meant trouble. You sighed, crossing your arms over your chest as you looked at the nearby wall, not wanting to see that stupid little grin on his stupid face.

“You… You’re- not a mama’s boy,” you muttered under your breath, coughing to make the words more unintelligible.

“I’m sorry, what did you say? I think I feel my hand warming up a bit.”

“Ugh, fine! You’re not a mama’s boy. Happy?”

Grin widening, he dropped the shirt and walked over to you in long strides, closing the distance quickly and placing his hands on your waist. “See? Was that so hard?”

“Absolutely teeth-pulling,” you said, dropping your head on his chest as he chuckled, bringing a hand up to gently pat your head. Of course, there wasn’t a lot about you two that was so different from each other. You both had a mutual hatred for backing down. He then looked over at the bed where the green-haired hero’s smiling face stared back at him, and he scowled.

“Why do you have so many shirts of that damn nerd anyway?”

“I don’t have that many, Katsu.”

“You have like ten. You don’t have any merch of me.” His grip on you tightened possessively, and if he wasn’t aware of it, you certainly were, smiling against his chest before lifting your head.

“Why would I need merch when I have the real life thing right here?” you asked, poking at his abs. “Besides, it’s not like I bought them. They were gifts whenever he had new designs come out.”

“And you couldn’t just refuse?”

“Even if you have some weird tension with him, that doesn’t mean I can’t be friends with him, dummy.” You lightly flicked his forehead and slipped out of his grasp as you walked back out to the living room, and he followed close behind with furrowed brows.

“Weird tension? The hell’s that supposed to mean?”

You just looked at him with raised eyebrows and shrugged, dropping down onto the couch before pulling out your phone. It took him a second to understand what you were getting at, and when he did, he wanted to vomit up his lunch.

“Oh, you’re sick.”

You threw your hands up. “I’m not saying I ship it! Your Twitter followers certainly do, though.”

“Yeah well, they’re all weirdos anyway,” he said, sitting down next to you and throwing an arm around your shoulders, and you immediately relaxed into him, content with the warmth he seemed to produce 24/7. “The only person I wanna be…” he grimaced, shaking his head, “shipped with is you.”

You smiled, looking up at Bakugou as you placed your hand on his chest. “I think people would if we didn’t constantly insult each other while we’re out in public. And you know, if you were actually affectionate with me.”

“I’m affectionate!” he yelled, arm tightening around you. “Those damn extras don’t need to see that shit anyway. Not like it’s any of their business.”

You chuckled and moved to straddle Bakugou’s thighs, hands taking their time as you dragged them up his muscular torso and splayed your fingers over his chest. You admired the man below you with a small smile on your face, his hands moving so that they rested on your thighs, giving them a small squeeze, and you watched his tongue swipe over his bottom lip as he seemed to look at you with that same red-eyed intense stare that he always did. Leaning down, you placed a slow kiss against his lips but pulled away before he could deepen it, and he chased your lips with a quiet growl as you let out an amused huff.

“Would you…” You could tell he was hesitant, never knowing how to properly express what he wanted to say, especially when he was feeling vulnerable. You placed your lips against his cheek, gently holding his face in your hands to try and reassure him. “Would you like me to be more affectionate in public? Would that… make you happy?”

Brows furrowing, your lips formed into a frown as you sat back, hands slipping into his. “Katsu… we’ve been together since our high school days. If I had any complaints, wouldn’t I have voiced them by now?” He opened his mouth, but you didn’t give him the chance to respond, grabbing his face again. “Listen to me for a second. Despite what people think about your rough edges and your unpleasant attitude-”

“Watch it.”

You smiled. “I wouldn’t change a damn thing about you. Your random outbursts, your sailor mouth, your shitty nicknames for all of our friends. Those things are what make you Bakugou Katsuki. Not some shitty tabloid with that stupid headline that’s like “Ten things to know about Pro Hero Dynamight!” or whatever. They’re all bullshit. No one sees the side of you that I get to. No one sees the big softie that you really are.” You lightly poked Bakugou’s chest with a giggle, and he swatted at your hand.

“Hey, I’m not soft, you dumbass,” he grumbled, and you just laughed as you leaned into him and wrapped your arms around his neck, resting your forehead on his shoulder.

“Keep telling yourself that.”

You heard him sigh and felt his arms wrap around you, happy in his strong embrace. There was nowhere you felt safer than in Bakugou’s arms. They were always there to hold you at night, or to pull you into a hug when you were feeling upset. You loved his arms, but you loved him in general. Everything about him always had butterflies fluttering around in your stomach. When he would gaze at you like you were the only other person in the world, or when he’d come home after a particularly rough day, and you’d offer to help him relieve some stress, but he’d insist that the only thing on his mind at the moment was you underneath him while he memorized and tasted every inch of you. Yeah, you were a love-struck idiot, but so was he. Maybe even more so.

You were brought out of your thoughts when the lights started to flicker before going out, and you waited a few seconds for them to come back on, but they never did. Are you fucking kidding me?

“Um… Katsuki?”

“Hm.”

“Please tell me our power didn’t just go out.”

“Our power didn’t go out.”

You smacked his chest. “Don’t be a smartass.”

“Then don’t say stupid shit.”

You let out a groan before whining out his name, and he sighed as he lifted you off of him and walked into the kitchen to grab his phone. It was like you could already feel the cold seeping back into the apartment through the cracks in the doors and windows, and you shivered as you grabbed the blanket from before and wrapped it around your body. Bakugou then came back into the living room, letting out a sigh and tossing his phone onto the couch.

“Some idiot driving in this shit-storm hit a pole and took down a transformer. Power won’t be back until the morning.”

Great. Just magnificent. Who the fuck decides to drive in a snowstorm? Letting out a huff, you stood and went to the kitchen to find a lighter before lighting every candle you two had, hoping they would provide enough light for the night. After making sure at least one candle was in every room, you went back to find Bakugou gathering all the blankets he could and raised an eyebrow.

“What? We both know our comforter won’t be enough to warm your shivering ass.”

“But I have you, don’t I? My personal heater,” you said, rocking back and forth on the balls of your feet as you smiled.

Bakugou scoffed. “Yeah, can’t wait for you to suck all the heat out of me.”

“Oh piss off. You love my cuddles.”

Before he could give you another snarky remark, you turned on your heel and walked to your bedroom, pulling back the covers and immediately tucking yourself underneath them. But of course, it wasn’t warm enough. When Bakugou walked into the room, you stuck a hand out from under the blanket and made a grabbing motion, and he just chuckled at you before throwing an extra blanket on top of you and climbing underneath the covers to lay next to you. You immediately sought him out, desperate for his warmth as you wrapped yourself around him and nuzzled into his chest, and his arms looped around you as he tangled your legs together.

“Christ, you’re fucking freezing,” he grumbled.

“Shut up and hold me tighter,” you said voice muffled as you spoke into his chest, and he did as you asked, his arms tightening around you as you let out a content sigh. 

Relaxing in the silence, you felt yourself begin to grow more tired with each second that passed, and your boyfriend seemed to relax as well, which was rare for him. You both were perfectly content, dozing off in each other’s embrace.

“... So should I get a mistletoe for the apartment?”

“Dear god, shut the fuck up and go to sleep.”

[captneverland91]

I'm tired.

Im so *so* tired.

I'm tired of missing. Im tired of wanting. I'm tired of wishing. I'm tired of dreaming..I don't even want to sleep anymore. I'm tired of waiting...I've been waiting for so long.

I'm tired.

I'm tired of being the person who checks on people all the time, the person who knows when not to check on people. But none of those people ever check on me. Never once "hey, just want to say I love you and see how you're doing." Even when they know I'm going through stuff. Even when they know I'm struggling. Nobody checks on me.

I don't even have any friends anymore. Not really. I guess you have to have friends for them to check on you.

I used to have friends. I have a matching tattoo with my best friend of twenty years. We are still best friends. But we're not. Isn't that weird? It's my own fault though. I moved away. I don't text her enough. But she doesn't really text me either. We just send each other stupid reels on Facebook and tiktok. We almost never talk about anything real anymore.

I'm so tired.

I work. Not even a lot, the normal 40 hrs a week. But I literally give it my all, every single day. I got a huge promotion that I wasn't even looking for... and now all my friends at work can't even be my friends anymore because now I'm their supervisor. Technically. Sure we are still friends. But it's not the same.

I don't have anyone to talk to anymore.

Sure, I have my family still. But I can only talk about certain things with certain people. My family is very opinionated. I always have to censor my conversations... tailer them to fit the people I'm around. It's just easier.

I'm tired.

I am tired of not being able to trust myself. How can I trust myself and my "instincts" when so often they have been wrong? How can I believe anything anyone tells me when I can't even trust myself?

Gods, I'm so fucking tired.

Look at me... rambling on to the internet. Will anyone even read this? Probably not. I haven't posted on here in YEARS. Do I even still have followers? Are any of you even still active? I have no idea.

I don't care. I just needed to get it out. Out of my heart. Out of my head. It was eating me alive.

If anyone does read this, don't worry. I'm not suicidal or anything. I promise. I'm just having a really, *really* hard day. I'll probably be fine again tomorrow. I hope.

After I get sleep.

Im just so tired.

[kidmetsu-no-yaiba]

What They Do When You’re Having A ‘Split’ And Become Angry  

This includes: Tsukishima, Kuroo, Bokuto, Kita, Suga, Ennoshita, Ushijima

This is just how I perceive them as what they would do for a best friend/romantic partner that experiences BPD anger in a similar way as I do. Also I'm off my stabilizers haha..ha.

Also none of these are meant to be mean about the characters I literally chose my faves for this.

Uh TW for bpd I guess?

Gender Neutral reader bay bee

Tsukishima (Not the trigger):

Doesn’t even recognize it at first, thinks its just a normal bad day from work

After, like, 30 minutes of you just sitting there and glaring at your phone without talking or even changing your expression he starts to get a clue.

Goes about his normal chores that upset you, but he plays your “Calming” playlist out loud on his phone just loud enough for you to hear

If he’s exhausted every chore and you still haven’t talked, he purposefully looks for funny or interesting news articles about stuff you like and reads the headlines out to you to get you to look at him or talk

Once you start at least looking at him, hopefully talking too, begins trying to coax out what triggered you

Ignores if you make any outright mean or just passive aggressive comments towards him instead of answering but will get aggressive in return

If he manages to get What Happened out of you he immediately calls you an idiot. Regardless of what it is. Is a mean comforter.

“Getting mad over your best friend talking on the phone too long while you’re hanging out isn’t an excuse to be mean”

“You’re stupid if you think it’s your fault that your friends aren’t paying attention to you, not everything is about you.”

It hurts but, it works even if sometimes it feels like he’s going a Bit Too Far

Will watch comforting videos or shows with you if it calms you down but that's about it. Very big on “You’re an adult and I’m not your psychiatrist, figure it out yourself.”

Kuroo (Is the trigger):

Instantly recognizes the Shut Down while teasing you, when you stop responding, your face is blank except for your down turned eyes.

‘Oh I’ve Fucked Up™’ is his immediate thought

“Y/N you know I didn’t mean that right? We were just playing, I’m sorry!” “Don’t you have a proposal to finish.”

Immediate shoulder drop. Is also upset now but decides to wait a little bit before trying to calm you.

After 30min or so of you hiding under your blanket he decides it’s time to try and pull you out of your head.

Cooks your most aromatic favorite food so the smell wafts into your room

Blasts your comfort playlist on a speaker and loudly sings along to it

When you still don’t come out when the food is done, sits outside the door saying “oh FUCK this shit is BUSSIN’” comically loud, overexaggerates your favorite things about it outloud.

When you eventually give in, just to get some food, he corners you with his body

“What about what I said upset you?” As a genuine question, not a mean one

After you explain, he lets you eat and offers a sincere apology when you finish

Offers to draw a bath with your favorite scent if it’ll help you. It does.

Bokuto (Is the trigger):

You came home and Bokuto had the tv up high while watching tiktoks and listening to music. After a moment the tea kettle went off. Before turning it off he realized you had walked in and bounded over to you. There were Too Many Noises.

He tried to talk over the noise but realized your eyes were boring into his and you had The Look

Also a ‘Oh I’ve Fucked Up™’

Rushes to take the kettle off the heat and turn off his phone before checking on you only to see you’ve already gone in and shut the bedroom door. You didn’t even take your shoes off..

Big pouty, sulky fool. Mopes around for a bit after turning off all the noise in the house.

Eventually looks for other things that upset you and finds that the house is, kind of a mess actually. Decides to clean as quietly as possible.

Does all of your least favorite chores first incase you re-emerge from the bedroom too soon

When everything seems to be done he opens your door and finds you tucked into bed and scrolling on your phone, very quiet music playing from it.

It was only 5pm but he took off his street clothes and climbed into bed as well. 

Absolutely gets up behind you and grabs you around your waist and snuggles in without saying anything even though he wants to

When you finally feel comfortable you look over your shoulder to see Bokutos already fallen asleep. Idiot. 

You order takeout for when he wakes up because, even though he tried his hardest to be quiet, you could hear him washing the dishes and didn’t want to ruin the work he did for you

Kita (Not the trigger):

Very straightforward the second he realizes you are Not Good

"Y/N if you tell me what's wrong it'll end quicker" 

When you don't even look at him he still continues talking "We both know you hate when you're like this. It'll make you feel better if you just talk to me even if you don't want to."

Is fairly stern when talking to you at the beginning. Not mean but just very much like 'this is going to get done whether or not you cooperate.'

If you don't cooperate then he begins to ignore you until you snap and eventually scream and air out everything that's wrong and what triggered you. 

Goes through everything you said with you and gives you an objective perspective although it basically boils down to "I know you can't help it but your ego is hurting you. Not Everything Is About You."

Once your conversation on that is over he asks if you want him to watch tiktok or listen to music or something with you

 Suga (Is the trigger):

He hadn’t meant to ignore you all day. He’d woken up before you and been so busy at work all day he didn’t get a chance to text. It was the club he advised’s meeting day and it was dragging on longer than usual, he hadn’t texted anyone all day to be fair

When he finally comes home he’s confused as to why you’re tucked in on the couch

“Hey Y/N you tired? Sorry I didn’t get a chance to talk today there was a lot of bureaucratic shit going on and then the club president decided we were all going to stay until the end of the activity. Kids am I right?” He laughs and smiles towards you but you continue to ignore him

After some physical encouragement, poking and whatnot, it dawned on him that you are Probably Going Through It

Jesus Christ

Immediately decides he is not having it and moves your legs off the couch so he can sit next you

“Y/N I looovvveeee youuuuu~~~” He says as he pulls you to him by the shoulders “I love you I love you I love youuu” 

Just babbles honestly, goes on and on about how he didn’t mean to ignore you and how he was honestly busy but he’s here now

And like yeah, he is here now so eventually you level out and let yourself be coddled for a bit longer

Makes pinky promises that he promises to text you when he’s busy or going to be running late

Also runs you a nice bath just in case

Ennoshita (Not the trigger):

Knows what's going on because he’s been watching you stare at the tv for about 20 minutes but, the tv is off. 

Is objective with his words like Kita but with more emotional appeal

“Y/N I know you’re in the middle of something but when you’re ready, I’ll be ready to listen to you,”

If, after a while, you don’t make any effort to talk to him he tries to point you in a better direction than staring at walls and moping around

“You don’t have to talk to me but I found a tiktok I think you’d enjoy” or “You know you haven’t tried that new nail polish you bought a bit ago” 

Is okay with just letting you figure it out on your own so you can apply the stuff you’ve worked on with your psychiatrist but will feel a little guilty if he doesn’t say anything at all

Will do anything that you need to get done but aren’t because of your episode like dishes or tidying your room

Ushijima (Not the trigger):

First of all, calls your episodes “tantrums”

Literally has no clue when you’re in an episode unless you tell him, he is not very bright

If you do tell him that you’re having issues he defaults to trying to use physical affection against whatever it is that you’re feeling

May or may not make you angrier by doing that

Although he wasn’t the original trigger, him being so dense might override it tbh

Like you love him but oh my god oh my god oh my god how have you survived this long 

Eventually decides “I do not know how to deal with this” and just leaves. He goes to the store and gets the shopping done for the next 2 weeks and gets some cool looking snacks. 

Thinks ‘well I’m already out, I might as well get the car washed’ after, turns into ‘Oh Y/N needed to get their new prescription too..’ ‘I think I remember a discussion about their package getting stuck at the post office..’

Literally accidentally does every single errand that needed to be done for the next month because he didn’t want to go home and upset you more

When he finally comes back home with 50lbs worth of shit from errands you’re like ????? because how did he know that you were stressed about all the house stuff that needed to be done????? 

It’s not an instant mood changer but you definitely go from seemingly uncontrollable rage to ‘Okay I was being a bit much’ but as you watch him prep veggies before storing them away the way you usually do it, you level out

He is unaware you’ve levelled out so he tries to remember the coping skills you said you talked about with your psychiatrist and you are deeply confused when he asks you to open your palm and places an ice cube in it

When you realize what’s going on you laugh and tell him you’re okay and apologize for how you were being earlier and explain what triggered you

He gives you the cool looking snacks

[celiaxan]

Looks of Love (Saiouma Fic)

He wondered why no one else could see it.

See the way their gazes follow each other sometimes subconsciously. See one's glance linger far too long to be considered platonic. See how one of them looked when the other laughed. See the soft looks they would give each other when the other wasn’t looking.

Or: a really self-indulgent fic based on my obsession of how lovers look at each other bc it's so soft istg

(whole fic under read-more and ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30140310)

A/N: listen to reflections by the neighborhood for mood music!

Kokichi Ouma loved the way two people looked at each other when they were in love.

(Not that he would admit that to anyone, but still…)

No one else seemed to get it.

But the small lingerings of stares after the other has already looked away. The faintest traces of red still on their face, quickly fading to pink. The mouth formed the smallest of smiles, because how could you frown while around them?

It was sickening at first.

Then it became addicting.

No one (from his group of Rantaro, Miu, and Tsumugi) believed him when he called out Kaede and Maki.

He wondered why no one else could see it.

See the way their gazes follow each other sometimes subconsciously. See one's glance linger far too long to be considered platonic. See how one of them looked when the other laughed. See the soft looks they would give each other when the other wasn’t looking.  

Plus, the way Maki glared at him when he talked to Kaede said a lot.

He wasn’t even surprised when they announced their relationship to the class.

(And he won’t deny collecting some pocket cash from the group in the process, but it’s their fault for not believing him and betting in the first place!)

Kokichi doesn’t know when it started.

If he had to guess, he’d say it happened in two parts.

The first being his first real crush. He had just turned 13, not yet even knowing the urge of strong feelings, hormones controlling his every action.

Still being young, unknowing, and everything, he got over his other ‘crushes’ and ‘relationships’ as quickly as he got into them. He still hadn’t known what was wrong with scanning classmates in the room, picking the girl he thought was prettiest, or the girl that had helped him pick up his pencil, or the girl that he had thought reminded him of himself, a sort of kinship, and told his other friends that he liked them.

Oh, how he regretted leading on whatever poor girl he ‘liked’, just to run away from any sort of sign of confession. It was a cycle of sorts. Pick a girl, say that he liked her, run away or watch her confess to another guy, pick another girl.

Tiring. It was tiring.

He didn’t even remember half of their names.

He did remember someone though.

A boy in the corner that read books during recess.

Kokichi didn’t know his name.

All he knew was that the boy was interesting in his own little way.

It was the first time Kokichi actually looked forward to speaking to someone. It was the first time Kokichi had wanted to know more about the boy. It was the first time Kokichi actually waved someone down in the hallways when their paths met just to say hello. It was the first time Kokichi cared about another person’s opinion.

It was… the first time he felt his face heat up to something as weird as the boy finally saying Kokichi’s name instead of calling him ‘You’.

He still didn’t know his name.

Only the gleam in his eyes when he looked up at Kokichi.

But that only made him more interesting.

They talked quite a bit.

When Kokichi was kicked out from playing soccer with the other boys for cheating and bribing other players. When Kokichi purposely faked an injured knee to talk to him. When Kokichi brought him to his house to study (and oh, the little brat told his step-brother, Rantaro, his name, but not Kokichi).

He loved it.

The boy brought a puzzle one time for Kokichi, who mentioned that he liked them. He started bringing two grape juice boxes instead of one. They would read together. They would bring out harder puzzles. The boy somehow understood Kokichi, knew which part of the homework he would struggle with, even if he lied and said he knew it all.

The boy moved away.

Kokichi didn’t cry.

He wasn’t even sad.

But even he knew that was a lie.

Glancing at him, the boy told Kokichi he was moving. Kokichi had been so used to tossing away random friends, random girls, he thought that’d be the same, he was okay with it.

He wasn’t.

A year later, after a big realization (and six ‘Am I Gay’ quizzes), he told Rantaro.

Rantaro choked on his tea. “Oh, cool. That means I’m not the only gay in the family. But uh...”

“What, spit it out, dear sibling. I have to rob a bank in Russia later!”

“I already knew,” Rantaro continued, ignoring Kokichi’s arson plans. “It was kind of obvious after I met your little friend,” Rantaro suddenly raised an eyebrow, smiling into his tea. “Or boyfriend?”

Kokichi’s world shattered with another revelation. “He wasn’t my boyfriend! Also, I didn’t like him.”

Or did I?

“No, you totally did.”

“Did not.”

“Whatever,” Rantaro muttered as an end to that conversation.

Kokichi sat there in silence, contemplating. Finally, he started again. “How did you know?”

Rantaro hummed for a bit before deciding on an answer. “If I had to pick a deciding factor, it’d have to be the way you looked at him. Especially when you thought no one was looking.”

“Really?” Kokichi asked, suddenly interested. “What did I look like?”

Rantaro smiled one of his ‘I Know More Than You’ smiles. “Figure it out yourself.”

That was the first part.

Kokichi had forgotten about it for a bit after screaming curses of ‘ fucking asshole! ’ and ‘ your days are numbered, dusty bitch ’. He had never truly forgotten, of course, but instead, it was just pushed to the back of his mind.

But like most things, his problems were solved due to social media.

And TikTok.

Scrolling through gay TikTok, he saw a ‘gay couples through history’ one. Suddenly gaining his interest, he actually tried to watch this one.

Pictures.

Pictures of gay and lesbian couples flashing through the screen, both of the people looking extremely intimate.

But- their looks- the way they looked at each other. It was mesmerizing. Kokichi couldn’t get more of it.

It was a look of fondness, so soft, that he could feel the attraction through the screen. The photos themself were black and white, but their impact was still strong.

Kokichi looked at them and knew - swore on his life- that he wanted something like that. Small glances full of affection. It held so little but meant so much.

He had always thought that people looked the brightest when they looked at the one they love.

And the eyes.

The eyes were soft, dreamy looking, dare he even say- beautiful.

He wanted that.

He already gave that.

That was the second part.

“So, get it, Shumai? That’s how I called all the class couples before they got together! It’s because I’m super observational and very good at connecting these pieces.”

“...It actually sounds like you’re a sap.”

“What?! Shuichi, you’re so mean to me!”

Now, Kokichi was sitting in a classroom with his current crush, Shuichi Saihara, on the roof. Their hands almost connected on a desk.

And as Kokichi looked closer, Shuichi began looking increasingly nervous, like he was going to break something if he wasn’t careful enough.

“So, do you know where your friend, uh- ‘Boy’, you called him, do you know where he is now?” Shuichi asked suddenly.

“Huh? Nope, I don’t!” Kokichi responded. They were both drinking grape juice boxes. “Why, jealous? Have you finally fallen for me after all?”

Shuichi stiffened, moving the topic along more. “Then...what would you say to him if he was here right now?”

Sighing, Kokichi sank down in his seat, thinking intensely. “I don’t know. I would tell him I want to be friends again. Maybe if I was bold enough, I would tell him that he was my first gay crush.”

A small chuckle before Kokichi continued. “That’s got to be an honor! First crush from Kokichi Ouma himself!”

Shuichi laughed awkwardly. “Who knows. Maybe they’re closer than you think.”

“What’s got you so optimistic?”

At that, Shuichi stood up, and picked up some of his books with one hand, turning around to reach out a hand for Kokichi. “Take a guess?”

Kokichi only looked Shuichi in the eye as the sun shined behind him. A familiar pair of amber eyes with some sort of gleam shined down on him.

Oh.

And wow. How stupid was he to fall for the same person twice?

Not grabbing Shuichi’s hand, Kokichi stood up on his own on an impulse. “You-!”

The boy- Shuichi’s eyes sparkled with a familiar look. It was the look that Kokichi had seen variations of over and over again. It was a face Shuichi looked at him with the most. He felt foolish for not recognizing it earlier.

Shuichi interrupted him- because he’s the only one that can without being told off by Kokichi- with a soft smile and everything. “I also loved the way you looked at me, because... I looked at you like that too.”

[nelllraiser]

those magic changes | eddie & nell

TIMING: before nell was yoinked into the hellscape. LOCATION: gallows grove. PARTIES: ��@specterchasing & @nelllraiser. SUMMARY: eddie and nell have some much needed post-highschool catching up while a spawn tries to catch them up. CONTAINS: sucidal ideation (eddie’s general disregard for his life).

The Bend, also known as the bad part of town, also known as Eddie’s favorite part of town, looked particularly derelict the day he and Nell decided to meet up. The sun hung low overhead, threatening to swap places with the moon at any moment. Meanwhile, within the depths of the sewers, an especially hungry vampire awaited the transition with rapidly diminishing patience. His sire botched his shot at immortality, making him a mindless spawn but, what he lacked in brains, he made up for in brutality.

Eddie parked outside a stretch of abandoned homes only a few blocks away from the spawn’s location. He took a sweeping glance at his surroundings, but there was no one in sight. His hand slipped into his back pocket and retrieved his phone before texting Nell in search of an update.

[Text to Nellspawn]: It’s 7:46 and we agreed on meeting at 7:45.

[Text to Nellspawn]: If you hate me, say it to my face, coward. ):

Nell crept up to Eddie’s car like a cat, making not a single sound as she ducked below the side of it- for once grateful that she was shorter than was ideal. Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and she smirked as she read the illuminated words on the screen. In the blink of an eye she was jumping from her hiding spot into Eddie’s window, slamming the screen of her phone against the driver’s side window of Eddie’s car as she yelled out. “I got your text!” Hopefully he’d at least jump a little. Or maybe she’d be so lucky as to get a small little scream that she could mock him for. 

Out of nowhere, Nell popped into Eddie’s peripheral vision and his heart leapt into his throat. He jumped in his seat, clutching his chest with wide eyes. “Holy fucking shit,” he breathed. As he gradually calmed down, his expression of terror turned into one of utter disdain. Eddie rolled down the window, glaring up at Nell. “Hey, could you do me a favor and stand in front of my car for a second?” he asked. “I promise I’ll make it quick.”

Nell practically cackled as she watched the fear very possibly shave a few years off Eddie’s life, sticking her tongue out at him through the window. “Surprise! I could tell you’re really happy to see me. I don’t think I’ve seen anyone look like that since the time I saw a toddler witnessing their first boggart going in on the peanut butter aisle of the grocery store.” Just in case he didn’t pick up on what she was insinuating, she made sure to rub it in. “Get it? I’m comparing you to a toddler. A small child.” Rolling her eyes she took a step back from the car door, giving him room should he choose to open it. “As if your car would stand a chance against me. I’m made of steel.” For a moment she flexed her arms in the classic pose, though you couldn’t begin to see anything past the looser sleeves of her jacket. There was simply something about seeing Eddie that made her feel as if she were as careless as the day she’d left White Crest. As if all the terrible things since then hadn’t come to pass. He was clean- a slate that wasn’t marred by being present for any of the atrocities of the past year or so.

Eddie willed himself to continue glaring at her, but the truth was that it felt good to hear her laugh again. Like most, Eddie viewed high school as hell on earth, but drama class with Nell gave him a sliver of hope to hold onto each day. “You’re three feet tall, you don’t get to call me a toddler.” Eddie rolled the window up and stepped out of the car. “It might take a few tries, but you know what they say about wills and ways,” he said, finally giving in to the urge to grin. He couldn’t remember the last time he saw her—graduation, maybe. Those years were more blurs than memories at this point. “Fuck it,” he said before taking a step closer and pulling her into a hug.

“I am not!” Nell stomped petulantly against the ground, not entirely helping her case. “I’m just saying if the toddler stroller fits you- who am I to argue?” Nevertheless her own grin was still bright on her lips, feeling lighter by the second the faster she and Eddie fell into old ways. It’d been..shit- it’d been almost six years, but it felt all too easy to pick up where they’d left off. “Yeah- they say Penelope Vural has the strongest will and the best ways, and no car’s ever gonna stop her.” Her laugh was lighter, less sharp as he stepped forward for a hug, and she embraced him back without hesitation. “I can’t believe you’ve gone soft on me, Carridine,” she teased before her gaze flickered over his shoulder to the nearby cemetery. “So you’re still stupidly bent on getting yourself snacked on in there?” One of the things that she and Eddie unfortunately had in common was that they were nearly impossible to sway once they’d made up their minds to do something idiotic. And she wasn’t keen to watch while White Crest swallowed up the friend she’d only just reunited with.

She hadn’t changed, not from what he’d seen so far. It felt like stepping out of a time machine and reliving a period in his life when the most pressing issues he faced revolved around timed tests and peer pressure. “It’s your fault for leaving me, Vural,” Eddie replied, giving her a tight squeeze before stepping back and shoving his hands into his jacket’s pockets. “It’s not stupid if you film it, then it’s art,” he said as he backed up a few steps closer to the rear door of his car. He turned on his heels and pulled the hand before ducking in to grab his filming equipment. “Besides, we might not even run into anything worthwhile,” he said with a shrug as he pulled the bag’s strap onto his shoulder.

The physical scars Nell had gained since seeing Eddie were tucked away under layers of clothing, always prone to the cold. Thankfully it seemed the scars on her soul had seen fit to fade into the background for the moment being as well, leaving her to freely bask in the warmth of Eddie’s company. “Don’t tell me you’re thinking about going to cry in a Subway again,” she joked dryly, folding her arms over her chest. “I’m pretty sure that makes it more stupid, actually.” If this had been six years ago she most likely would have been all for diving headlong into a cemetery, and she’d still do that if it was only her going in. But there was another life at stake here as well, and it wasn’t one she was willing to risk. “Yeah- we’ll see.” She was too jaded at this point to feel optimistic about not running into something lurking in the cemetery, already knowing vampires loved to lurk in their shadows. She’d brought a stake just in case, more than ready for if things went south.

“Don’t knock it ‘till you try it,” Eddie advised in response to her comment about shedding tears in sandwich shops. His hand raised and mimicked a flapping jaw at her next comment. Whether or not his plans were stupid, it wouldn’t stop him. His already poor decision-making continued to deteriorate with each passing day. He told Bex he would be careful but, as much as he didn’t want to disappoint her, he didn’t know the first thing about showing caution. And, frankly, he showed no interest in learning. Eddie’s outlook on life made being alive out to be more of a chore than a priceless gift. 

“You wanna do an intro for the channel?” he asked, digging out his camera. “Or did you somehow become the type of person who values anonymity?” Eddie’s brow raised at Nell as he walked passed her en route to the cemetery. 

“No- I don’t think I’ll be trying it, thanks. I would, but it makes it a little hard since I have something called dignity. Don’t worry, I wouldn’t expect you to be familiar with the concept. I will keep knocking it, though,” Nell teased, that same playful glint still making a home in her eyes. “Wow!” The word was stretched out as long as she could make it last, offense plain to see in the way her eyebrows had raised towards her hairline. “I can’t believe you just admitted you don’t watch any of the TikToks I make for the newspaper. You think I’d be doing that if I valued anonymity?” She still wasn’t sure how she’d managed to land the job, reveling in the pay and benefits for the minimal amount of work she did.

“You’d be lucky to have me in your intro!” In another moment she was parroting the old intro she’d seen on his channel the times she’d tuned in, letting the words fall none too sweetly as she poked fun at him. She was pretty sure the camera wasn’t even out yet- but that didn’t have her hesitating.

“Dignity,” Eddie mused, sounding as if he were trying to dredge up the definition from deep within his memory banks. “You’re right, I’m drawing a blank. Is dignity the reason you got drunk at Hayden Dane’s house party and asked everyone for soap to appease the bathroom demon? Yeah, I don’t think I have that.” He shrugged all the way up to his ears. It didn’t occur to him that a demon actually did take up roost in Hayden’s bathroom, explaining why his house burned down two days later. Eddie knew a lot about ghosts and decidedly less about infernal imps.  

“There’s a pretty big difference between newspaper TikToks and showing your face on a YouTube channel exposing White Crest’s supernatural underbelly,” he replied with a glance. “Most people don’t want to be associated with it. I actually watch your content all the time. It’s… kind of how I learned you were back in town and had been for a while.” A year of radio silence. No point acting like it didn’t sting a little.

At the sound of Nell repeating his old intro back at him, Eddie clutched his chest in despair. “No,” he whined, turning to face her again. “Let it stay dead, Nell. I’m not that person anymore.” The camera in his hand raised in her direction. “Here’s your chance at YouTube fame. If you embarrass me, I’ll get your house haunted.”

Nell rolled her eyes fondly at the memory of the little Bannik that she’d found in Hayden’s bathroom, having been utterly thrilled to stumble across a demon in her drunken state. It had been in the midst of her beginning to acquaint herself with the demon species and portals— so of course she’d been all too eager to find some soap for the little creature. “You’re lucky I was there to appease the bathroom demon. You all would have been long gone if it wasn’t for my quick thinking.” Were Banniks actually all that dangerous? Absolutely not. But Eddie didn’t need to know that. 

“Mhm- White Crest’s supernatural underbelly,” she repeated dryly, still not all that pleased that Eddie had made it his life’s mission to single handedly crack open supernatural secrecy. “You know that’s a great way to get people killed, right? What you’re doing with your videos and stuff?” 

Stepping through the threshold of the cemetery, Nell’s mouth was already propped open to give her next quip of a reply when a chill ran down her spine. Whether it was the product of being attacked from the shadows one too many times, or an actual premonition- she was suddenly quiet. She began to scan the tombstones with a sharp eye, as if something might be lurking behind them. Then...a low snarling sound, and Nell realized she’d been right to have come as Eddie’s personal bodyguard. “Shut up,” she hissed, already trying to pinpoint where the sound was coming from, a hand slipping one of her hidden stakes from its hiding place.

Eddie eyed Nell skeptically. “Uh-huh,” he uttered. The likelihood of Nell being right about the soap-loving fiend was actually pretty high, but Eddie didn’t care to admit that. He much preferred giving her a hard time, and the feeling seemed mutual enough to dissuade any guilt.

“You know what else is a great way to get people killed? Keeping them ignorant,” Eddie retaliated without missing a beat. “So long as I try to avoid outing individuals, I’m pretty sure I’m in the clear.” This was an argument he knew well, the beginning of it anyway. People didn’t usually bother trying to correct him once they knew how firmly he stood his ground. They saw him as a lost cause, he saw them as uninformed.

Nell seemed on-edge, which Eddie didn’t understand. As much time as he spent in graveyards, he never developed a sixth sense for danger. Mostly, out of lack of interest. “Yeah, that’s a great intro,” he deadpanned. The sight of a stake made him lower his camera. “What are you doing? Now’s not the time to showcase your Buffy cosplay.” He didn’t hear the growl over his own voice.

Nell had never backed down from a fight, argument, or otherwise in her entire life, her stubbornness and determination matching Eddie’s in a way that hadn’t been fully explored quite yet. After all, they’d agreed on most things in highschool, but as was often the case with the supernatural— things got far more complicated when it entered the picture, and relationships were no exception. So she was more than ready to fire back a retort before another growl pierced the night air, and she shushed Eddie once again. “I said shu-” But her words didn’t meet and end as the spawn finally leapt from the shadows taking advantage of her momentary distraction to begin its attack.

Rolling in a smooth and practiced maneuver, Nell clutched the stake like a lifeline in her hand staying low to the ground as she readied her magic should she need it. “Don’t move,” she gave Eddie another command as she tried to draw a large circle around the spawn with her footsteps. But the thing had taken one look at the stake in her hand and decided to go for the easier target. In the blink of an eye, the spawn had shifted course, turning towards Eddie with bloodlust in its eyes. 

Eddie let out a startled laugh at the sight of the vampire, his usual reaction to imminent danger. He instinctively raised the camera as Nell momentarily outsmarted the beast. Asking her where she learned a maneuver like that would have to wait.

“Gonna have to deliberately disobey that order,” Eddie said once the spawn locked onto him. A familiar surge of adrenaline flooded his system and Eddie jouked to the right, an outstretched hand commanding a small cross to fly from a nearby grave into his grip. He was lacking in the faith department, but desperate times called for desperate measures. “Fuck off, fuck off, fuck off,” he chanted as he waved it in the spawn’s direction.

The raising of his camera wasn’t lost on Nell, and she shook her head in disbelief as the spawn tore after Eddie. Really? Even now Eddie was trying to get a shot? “You can’t upload a video if you die, dumbass!” Nell yelled, already hot on the spawn’s trail while it flew after Eddie like a bat out of hell. Which...wasn’t actually all that terrible a description of the lesser vampire when Nell thought about it. At least her friend had enough sense to arm himself with some religious memorabilia, though the spawn had yet to spot it while being far too intent on having its next meal.

The creature was faster than Nell could have ever been without a hunter gene or otherwise, but thankfully she had her own tricks up her sleeve. Casting one of her oft-used spells when it came to fighting, her speed was instantly buffed, and she became a blur even quicker than the spawn. The burst was enough to get her on top of the spawn and send herself barreling into the side of it, trying to find purchase with her stake. She was by no means all that large of a projectile standing at only 5’2 and having a slight build, but the momentum she’d gathered was enough to shoot the spawn off its path. The spawn was quick to recover, snapping at the hand that held her wooden point and clamping its jaws down on her wrist. With a curse falling from her lips, the weapon was forced out of her hand. 

“What the fuck?” Eddie exclaimed when a Nell-sized blur collided with the vampire. Questions piled up, giving him a reason to outlast the encounter. The spawn recalibrated with deadly quickness, and blood subsequently flowed from Nell’s wrist. As much as Eddie liked to pretend situations like this fit his laissez faire narrative, he couldn’t stand idly by while someone he cared about bled for his mistakes.

His camera hit the ground while his feet carried him to Nell’s side. With little regard for his own wellbeing, Eddie pressed the cross to the side of the spawn’s head. It sizzled against the wrinkled skin, sending the creature reeling backwards with a shriek.

“You dropped this,” Eddie said breathlessly as he floated the stake to Nell’s uninjured hand, hoping she would take hold of it. He stayed next to her, holding out the cross to hopefully keep the beast at bay long enough for Nell to plan out her next move. But it looked hungry and Eddie couldn’t imagine it had much patience.

Nell grimaced while she did her best to ignore the injured wrist, giving Eddie a grateful nod as she caught the stake he’d floated in her direction. She couldn’t deny that she was enthralled by the encounter with the spawn, and she would have been enjoying herself even more if Eddie hadn’t been involved in the crossfire. Not for the first time, she felt like she was back in the Ring, fighting for her life and the winnings of those who’d bet on her. She couldn’t deny that she missed the rush of battling for her life, and the roar of the crowd. 

The cross move had been smart on Eddie’s part, and Nell supposed she should at least count herself lucky that he knew enough to know what had the ability to ward off vampires. “Just go-” she began to say, unwilling to risk Eddie’s life any further. She didn’t wait to see if he’d obeyed, once again rushing forward with a speed she shouldn’t have possessed. The stake in her good hand plunged forwards through the spawn’s chest, but her efforts were fruitless beyond making the creature even angrier. At the last second it’d darted to the side, shifting just enough for the point to miss its heart.

With a growl of frustration, Nell decided she was done with trying to hit a moving target. She kicked a leg into the air to hook it behind the thing’s head, using her momentum to swing herself up by the crook of her knee until she’d sat herself on the spawn’s shoulders, hands placed on either side of its head. “Just gotta bring the inside out,” she reminded herself as she gripped her magic tight. She could feel it’s sludge-like blood responding to her will as it’s head began to fill with more than it could hold. Pulling her hands from the creature’s head, she tugged on the blood she’d pooled, bursting the spawn’s head in an explosion of brains and viscera. With the remains of the spawn painting her front, she slipped from it’s twitching body, catching her breath while she looked to see where Eddie might have gone. 

Nell told him to go, but Eddie couldn’t look away, let alone move. She climbed the vampire with precision and put a bloody end to it. He went momentarily slack-jawed. “What the fuck?” he breathed, sounding like a broken record. Eddie trudged towards Nell, remembering a final obstacle stood between him and the answers he wanted so badly. He placed the cross in his back pocket, making a mental note to return it to its rightful grave before they left, and reached out for her injured wrist.

“Can I take a look at it?” he asked timidly, wanting to make up for the harm he caused her. “Or do you have some kind of spell for that, too?” He eyed her curiously, fine with either answer. If she had a handle on her blood loss, he would need to figure out a new way to make tonight up to her, but he could work with that. “I think the best I can do is a band-aid, anyway.” He offered her an apologetic shrug.

Nell fixed Eddie with a disapproving look the moment she realized he hadn’t actually moved an inch since she’d told him to leave. “You know- usually the best way not to get killed is to listen to me.” Mindlessly, she let him take her wrist, not entirely having expected him to ask for it, but offering it nonetheless. Her head tilted in amusement as he mentioned spells, realizing he’d already pegged what was going on. “You mean you’re not buying the whole- I just got really buff after highschool or something like that?” To be fair she had gained more muscle, but it was of a leaner make than anything a bodybuilder might have. 

“Well- it’s not really...a spell but-” As he eyed her wrist she willed the blood to clot where the skin had been broken, once again flexing her bloodkinesis as the wound scabbed over. “I can just do that for the most part. I never really learned a lot of healing.” She gave him a smile anyway, coming down from the high of the kill slowly but surely. “You can still put a band-aid on it though, if you want,” she teased, though thankful for his concern.

“Yeah, but where’s the fun in that?” Eddie replied flippantly. For Nell’s sake, he kept his indifference towards death light-hearted. Whichever way the wind blew, Eddie didn’t mind much. Either he lived another day, or he didn’t. In his opinion, both options seemed eerily similar. “We can play pretend, if you want, but I’d rather pick your brain about magic.” He knew another spellcaster, Bex, but she didn’t seem as advanced as Nell. “God, how did it take me this long to figure it out?”

Nell healed herself, in a sense, and Eddie’s eyes widened with delight. “So cool,” he said, catching her gaze again. “You don’t have to coddle me. I get it, you’re all tough and scary now. Way beyond band-aids.” As he spoke, he meandered back to the grave he’d stolen from and returned the cross with a quiet apology. Ghost or not, they deserved more respect than he’d given them. 

Returning to Nell, Eddie knew better than to think they’d walk back to his car without a good lecture. “I’m fully prepared to be scolded now, by the way. Hit me with your best shot.”

Eddie might have thought his jokes about dying were landing decently, but Nell’s face didn’t so much as twitch into a smile as he spoke the words. After the last year...after the last six years she knew that death wasn’t a joke. She supposed it made sense that Eddie would have a skewed vision of it as a medium, but that didn’t mean she had to encourage him. Maybe he’d feel differently if he’d watched someone he loved die, woken up covered in her blood with her headless body lying next to him on the ground. Shaking her head to dispel the dark memory, she simply sent him another stern glare. “No fun in dying, really.” She wasn’t going to entertain his frivolity when it came to his life. But magic was easier to talk about, and something that wasn’t tainted by her trauma. Her voice grew lighter again, curious to know what he himself was curious about. “Sure- what do you wanna know? Or how much do you know already? It probably just took you so long cause you couldn’t see around your giant hair,” she teased, leaning on an old laugh. 

Another little smile crossed her face while she watched his reaction to the magic, always thinking it endearing the reactions of those who were less acquainted with it. “Actually I’ve always been scary and tough, thank you very much,” she joked with a wrinkle of her nose— even though she’d gotten in more than her fair share of fights in highschool. 

Picking up his busted camera from the ground, Nell thumbed some dirt from it’s lens before taking a closer look, trying to figure out if a simple repair spell might have it back in working condition. He’d asked for a lecure, and she was left wondering when she’d become the kind of person who doled them out. “This isn’t a game, Eddie,” she began seriously. She should have known the levity of the start of the evening wouldn’t last. Not in a place like White Crest. “You can’t just waltz into supernatural infested areas without protection. And you shouldn’t be doing it in the first place.”

Nell didn’t laugh, but that was nothing new. Eddie understood that most people took death more seriously than he did, and he knew they had their reasons. On the other hand, their solemnity didn’t invalidate his indifference. He preferred not caring, it made life easier. The subject-change suited him just fine, however. “The conditioner I use doesn’t help either, eats at the brain cells, y’know,” he said, going along with her joke. “I’ll be honest, I don’t know much. Magic’s fascinating, but I’ve always been satisfied with the whole telekinesis thing, so I didn’t do much digging. So, feel free to talk to me like I’m an idiot, not that you need my encouragement,” he teased.

“Taking on a vampire is a little different than maiming Cindy S,” he playfully corrected her. Eddie knew Nell had never been a push-over, but this was groundbreaking as far as he was concerned.

As expected, she provided words of warning. He nodded along absently, his eyes fixed on the camera in her hands. If he kept up at this rate, he wouldn’t be filming for much longer, anyway. Lack of equipment meant lack of content. “And, why is that?” he asked curiously when she finished bending his ear. He figured he knew the reason, or at least the jist, but he wanted to give Nell the benefit of the doubt. Maybe, her reasoning wouldn’t be as boring as everyone else’s.

“We both know that’s a lie because you don’t have any brain cells to eat,” Nell commented dryly, wishing they could have stayed in the sun of their earlier conversation, the lightness of it having been reminiscent of simpler days. But these weren’t simpler days anymore, and apparently the spawn and whatever bullshit this town would toss out next hadn’t wanted her to forget that for more than the half an hour it’d taken for her and Eddie to get here and get into the cemetery. “You know telekinesis is basically just another form of magic,” Nell supplied, remembering saying something similar to Blanche. An ache of longing shot through her as she thought of her best friend, wishing they could be physically closer, but knowing that Whtie Crest had essentially sapped the flush from her friend’s cheeks, and the joy that was meant to color them. “It’s cool you can work with it though since not all mediums can.” She assumed he knew as much. “But magic…it’s built on a few core things...intention, will, focus…” She didn’t know if this was the best place for the conversation the more she looked around. For all they knew there could be another spawn lurking, or a fully fledged higher vampire who was thirsty. “We should talk about this somewhere else, though.” 

“Cindy S fucking deserved it,” Nell joked in reply, honestly having half forgotten the way she’d broken the snotty girl’s nose while in highschool until Eddie brought it up. “And she was already halfway to being a bloodsucker with the way she acted.” 

Nell’s annoyance grew as he seemed more preoccupied with the camera than herself. “You’re not even pretending to listen,” she accused, the displeasure plain in her voice. “Because you’re either gonna end up dead or have someone else end up dead or get hurt.” She waved her wrist as a reminder, not above using it in a moment like this. “And maybe you don’t mind being a ghost, but it’s not fucking fun for the people who care about you.”

Hearing Nell refer to something he possessed an innate knack for as ‘magic’ brought a grin to Eddie’s face, a grin that grew larger when she called attention to how rare of a gift it was. Telekinesis wore him out more often than not. Even now, he felt the dull throb of an oncoming headache making itself known. But, despite the pain and exhaustion, Nell’s opinion made him feel proud. “Yeah, it can be a little tricky,” he admitted, thinking back to Willow propelling him across her living room. “Right, right, totally. Time and place, I gotcha.” Eddie wouldn’t have minded loitering in the cemetery until daybreak, but Nell was the one recovering from a vampire bite.

“Yeah, well, all busting her face accomplished was convincing her parents to let her get a nose-job.” Eddie pursed his lips at the resurgence of long-ignored memories. Present day left a lot to be desired, but nothing could convince him to relive high school. 

Eddie opened his mouth to assure Nell he usually went on these adventures alone, but her next comment caused him to immediately slam his jaw shut. His brows knitted together as he considered her. He wanted to argue, to insist that no one cared about him enough for it to matter. He would’ve used her as an example, calling attention to how long it took her to reach out to him. If people cared so much, they would act like it, and he wouldn’t feel so alone. But, admitting to feeling that way would’ve made him sound pathetic.

“I’m not gonna die, don’t be so dramatic,” he said, turning away to start walking towards his car. “I’ll try to be more careful.” Eddie hoped she wouldn’t call his bluff. “Do you need a ride?” he asked over his shoulder, eager to change the subject.

“A new nose job, and the satisfaction of leaving me and my friend alone,” Nell jokingly corrected. Cindy had been one of the ones to make fun of Blanche and the way she seemingly spoke to herself at times when addressing a ghost. She wasn’t necessarily proud of the temper she’d had in highschool, and referring to it as past tense was most likely generous— but she liked to think she’d improved from the even more violent youth she’d been. Besides, she’d break someone’s nose for Blanche any day. 

“You don’t know that,” Nell rebutted instantly, still annoyed at how lightly Eddie seemed to be taking everything. “You know White Crest loves to eat people up and spit them out.” How many people had gone missing or been killed in their highschool class alone? Too fucking many. Perhaps she was leaning a little too hard on her personal feelings when it came to the matter, tired of watching people she cared about die, but if it made Eddie live another day she wasn’t opposed to tough love. “There’s a thousand and one things out there that could kill you, and you’re throwing yourself at all of them. I’m not being dramatic.”

After years of separation, Nell couldn’t tell if his words of being more careful were sincere or something he’d said to placate her, but she figured this was another conversation they shouldn’t have in the middle of the cemetery with beasts potentially lurking in the shadows. “I’m not done with you,” she clarified, not wanting him to think he’d gotten out of this. “But I’ve got my bike that I need to take home. Thanks for the offer, though.”

White Crest’s history didn’t bother Eddie. He coped with his surroundings by romanticizing how capricious the town was rather than fighting against the inevitable. When people questioned him, he often wondered what made them so certain they knew how he should live his life better than he did. Whatever it was had yet to be explained to him in understandable terms. He didn’t want to argue with Nell anymore.

“I said I’ll try to be more careful,” he reiterated.

Eddie stopped when Nell politely turned down his offer and turned to face her. It only felt right to pay proper attention to their goodbye. “Don’t mention it,” he deflected. “It was good seeing you again, Nell. Fingers crossed, next time will be a little cozier.”

[dippedanddripped]

Earlier this year, writer and Highsnobiety contributor Eugene Rabkin dissected what it’s really like to work in the fashion industry, the good and the bad. In the brutally honest essay Read This Before You Decide To Work in Fashion, he writes about the industry keeping its grip on its hierarchy as tightly as an aristocracy that knows its hegemony is temporary.

“Fashion has always been the great illusion maker. It ostensibly champions democratization while trading on exclusivity. It nods enthusiastically to demands for inclusivity with token gestures,” he writes. “Fashion gatekeepers keep the gates tightly shut, promulgating the you-can’t-sit-with-us mindset. It does its best to maintain the status quo.”

As Rabkin notes, however, a growing contingent of those entering the industry are realizing that they “cannot depend on the existing power structures of glossy magazines, fashion councils, and conglomerates, and have formed their own networks, at times with great success.”

Yet how much does the fashion establishment really care about changing the structures that have kept the power in the hands of the same people for so long? How much will it fall when those who are denied a seat at the table create a table of their own? Are most traditional luxury brands already playing catch-up with their younger counterparts? And, most importantly — what needs to change in terms of who is let into the room, and for whom it’s time to go? We dive into these layered topics in the discussion below:

THE PANEL

Louis Pisano, Writer and Critic | @louispisano

"I didn’t get into fashion media intentionally. It was around 2010, with the start of Twitter. I had just moved to Europe and I wanted to work in fashion. I was going to Milan all the time and seeing all these people, and I just started tweeting everything I was observing into the void of god knows who. As time went on, it turned into this space where people really wanted to be unfiltered and behind the scenes. People at different online magazines started to offer me to write pieces about what it was like to be behind the scenes; I just sort of fell into it."

Brenda Weischer, Founder of Disruptive Berlin | @brendahashtag

"I was in PR for a little bit. I worked for PR Consulting in New York and then decided instead of kissing the editors’ asses, how about I start writing? I applied to Central Saint Martin’s [in London] to do my Masters in journalism; [then] I realized you can't really make much money, so I wanted to stay freelance. I am now the founder of vintage archive Disruptive Berlin. I was never on Twitter; I was more of a Tumblr person. That switched over to Instagram at some point. I sell vintage clothing, so I'm a bit removed, but all of my friends work in fashion, so it was an everyday topic — what goes on behind the scenes. I'm frustrated that not many people are opinionated in the public eye, but are in their private life."

Hanan Besovic, Commentator | @ideservecouture

"I grew up in Croatia and studied management, small business, and hospitality. When I moved to the United States, I started working in a hotel. [Then] the pandemic hit, and I turned to Instagram and fashion. I started posting stuff on my personal account, [with followers like] my aunt who doesn't know what Givenchy is. So I'm like, 'Okay, this is a completely wrong demographic. I need to create something new.' That’s when I started @ideservecouture. I used memes as my main medium, just because I can reach more people with them. Plus, to be honest, I want to make people laugh, and I want to piss off a couple of people, also."

THE CHAT

Christopher Morency: Welcome all. To start, I want to hear how you see the fashion industry being reported on today, and what role fashion critique plays. Now that brands have decided to open their doors with livestreams, the audience can make up their minds on a collection immediately. do we still need traditional fashion commentating by big magazines and editors?

Brenda Weischer: I think, besides us, not everyone is as opinionated. People want to be told what to say. They want someone else's opinions to look up to and shape their own opinion. Even with TikTok, for example, the first thing I do is go to the comment section, to know what everyone else is thinking. So there's definitely a need for some kind of review. But I agree with you, Chris, I don't really read anything anymore, besides what my friends write. Then on TikTok, there are these 19-year-old fashion students who are doing these reviews, and I keep thinking, “What the fuck are you talking about?” But [on the flipside], you have these [traditional media] reviews where even I, with the same press release and professional knowledge, don’t know what they’re talking about; you’re made to feel stupid. Like, I don’t know this poem you’re referencing. And there’s not much in between — until the last six months. So I think the need for reviews is there, but what’s in mainstream media doesn’t feel authentic at all, especially when you know they’re talking about an advertiser.

Hanan Besovic: Brenda, you’re completely right about the two extremes of reviews. What I’m missing is the critical part. What I’ve learned since doing this is that fashion is very much oriented. It’s okay to praise, but it’s never okay to criticize. And that’s just wrong. When I criticize, I never try to be mean about it. It’s just my opinion. If you're going to get offended by an opinion, that’s 100 percent on you. For example, the other day there was one designer who's been following me for a while; I reviewed his show and I was super positive, but I said he needed to edit, as it looked too busy. The next thing I knew, he unfollowed me. I think the honest criticism [today] is on social media. The praise is on Vogue Runway, because at the end of the day, that’s what [the brands] are paying for. I also think this certain generation of fashion journalists take themselves too seriously.

People want to be told what to say. They want someone else’s opinions to look up to and shape their own opinion.

Weischer: It’s so highbrow now. There’s no fun in anything.

Besovic: Exactly. That’s why I like what’s happening on Instagram with people that do the same kind of thing we do. Let’s just have fun. I know it sounds infantile, but at the end of the day, it’s just clothes.

Louis Pisano: People are going to either buy it or not. They’re not going to not buy it because we made a meme about it or because we said we didn’t like this or that piece.

Morency: Does fashion critique even matter today, regardless of whether it’s written by editors or reviewers on Instagram and TikTok?

Besovic: It depends on who you ask. I think the stupidest thing a designer can do is surround themselves with “yes” people. And that's why, at the core of fashion, you can’t say you don’t like something or something isn’t good. That just doesn’t fly very well. As long as you’re making money, who cares? Have fun with it. You should be happy that people are talking about you. I secretly feel that [Dior’s] Maria Grazia Chiuri loves it when we talk shit about her.

Weischer: Louis, you were very humble to say it doesn't really make a difference to their pay check, but I think it does, at least for my audience. If I really were to continuously talk about someone, it does make a difference, because a lot of people want to be told what's cool and what isn't. There are opinions of taste-makers that at some point do trickle either up or down.

It’s okay to praise, but it’s never okay to criticize. And that’s just wrong. When I criticize, I never try to be mean about it. It’s just my opinion.

Morency: So, what’s changed? Why is this clash between old and new critiquing happening?

Besovic: When you criticize stuff, there is so much more to take into consideration. Before it was just clothes; now, we're critiquing the full company and the decisions that they make. I always say that if you make smart decisions, you’re not going to get criticized. It’s your fault if you fuck up. For example, when it came to Chanel and the Michel Gaubert thing happened with “Wuhan girls,” the brand said they accepted his apology — it’s not your apology to accept.

Morency: I’ve written a bit about brand universes, and how these days it’s about everything from the soundtrack to who is at an event or show to what’s happening outside. Not just the clothing. Brands are still getting used to being critiqued about these other things, outside of fashion. Do you think they want to genuinely listen and evolve when it comes to these things?

Besovic: I really do think as “the chosen,” they cannot shape the narrative that they want, because there's so many other people talking about it all the time. But the scandals change things.

Weischer: Yeah. It's either if their money is at risk, or if there’s public pressure. I don't think there's anything else. Change from within — I don't think that's possible, at this point. I mean, maybe I'm too negative, but I really think these kinds of scandals have a huge effect.

Pisano: I agree. Public perception turns into money.

There’s an extent to how much critique and how much of a voice you’re allowed to have within the industry, especially for new voices.

Morency: So, who can still shift the public perception of brands? Is it still the legacy titles, critics, and editors? Or is it the digitally native generation of commentators and writers, who are a lot more honest and open towards each other’s presence? Or is it even the general public?

Pisano: It’s whoever can make the biggest mess for a brand.

Weischer: I agree – whoever creates the biggest mess. And not in a vicious way, just whoever has a platform and is willing to speak out. But then there are a lot of people with a platform who still have to make money from brands. I find it sad when you speak out about something and the people in your DMs agree, yet they’re still posting [positive] images of them being at the show. That’s frustrating.

Pisano: I can attend a show and just be there and not really post an opinion or anything if the brand wants to invite me. [Now] if you want to pay me for something, we're going to discuss how I'm going to be my authentic self and still partner with you. But I'm not going to publicly praise a brand and then privately [talk negatively about it].

Morency: When it comes to brands opening their door more, to not just invite editors and buyers, do you see more openness in the industry? Or does it keep its nepotistic and gatekeeping reputation?

Pisano: I think it’s a marketing toy. I'm just looking at it as a whole; allowing you to have a voice and work with you only goes so far. There's an extent to how much critique and how much of a voice you're allowed to have within the industry, especially for new voices. I'm the only one out of all of you that Valentino doesn't work with, for example, as I’ve criticized a lot of decisions that Valentino has made, before it was cool and trendy to be diverse. I think the way you do it [Hanan] is genius, because it’s funny and not too vicious. But I can only go so far with humor until I’m genuinely pissed off. And when it loses that sort of funny viral entertainment value for the brand, it’s a no. And that gets you blacklisted. Brands don't like [when] they can't really control you.

I’m aware that we’re slowly closing the doors on ourselves when we criticize somebody, and I think that we’re fine with that, because all of us here want the best for fashion and its future.

Besovic: I 100 percent get what you’re saying, Louis. I hope that my message still gets across with humor, and that people start to talk about [issues]. I’m aware that we’re slowly closing the doors on ourselves when we criticize somebody, and I think that we’re fine with that, because all of us here want the best for fashion and its future.

Morency: In my opinion, the fashion industry still loves the traditional system of building up certain people by allowing the chosen ones into this traditional sequence of gatekeeping steps. The lucky few go to a prestigious fashion school, you get big internships, you get scouted, you enter these incubator programs after which you get the same press coverage, the same stores buy your clothes, and you are the new fashion darling until the next one comes around. What challenges do you see with that system?

Besovic: I will never praise and acknowledge someone who came up through nepotism. I will never praise these people the same way that I am praising, let’s say, a Thebe Magugu, who I think is amazing because he gives me a story, trauma, and beauty, which he puts into the clothes. Your work should speak for itself.

I’m more excited that the voices are changing. I’m excited to see other people’s opinions and not always having the same people in the room.

Morency: But what’s going to shift the industry’s mindset to start thinking this way?

Pisano: Maybe it sounds too pessimistic, but I don’t think that it’s going to change, because we live in such a celebrity-driven culture where fashion has become pay-to-play. Regardless if we think someone like Lila Moss is an adequate model, she still has the last name that will draw in that star power, regardless of whether she executes the walking part of the assignment — she executes the celebrity part of the assignment.

Weischer: Yes, and a magazine no longer sells without a celebrity on the cover. And, to touch back on the university thing — whenever I tell an editor where I study, within a second I get the nod of approval, which is insane, as I don’t know anyone there anymore and was at [Central Saint Martins] for like a year. I remember when people from LVMH came to visit the design studios and would be like, “Okay, we want you for this brand, you for that brand.” Same with magazines. You didn’t even have to apply anywhere.

Morency: To round things off, what brands do it well and do things differently? Who do you get excited about?

Pisano: Telfar, 100 percent. I’m so disappointed that the Telfar x Gap collection didn’t pan out. Then also LaQuan Smith; I’m waiting for him to have that big house moment, because he deserves it.

Besovic: Thebe [Magugu] steals my heart. I’m always excited about Peter Do, because it’s interesting and new. And Schiaparelli.

Weischer: I’m more excited that the voices are changing. I’m excited to see other people’s opinions and not always having the same people in the room. I’m generally excited for anything that’s changing.