#this isn't in response to anybody i just want to express 'my feelings about this guy are complicated' succinctly

[cressidagrey]

The Witching Hour - Chapter 6 - Azriel (The End)

Summary: 

5 Times members of the Inner Circle get absolutely terrified by Azriel's...whatever she is, and 1 (of many) times Azriel thinks that his witch was the best thing that ever happened to him.

Warnings: 

Mention of Amarantha, Mention of Murder, Mention of torture, Rhys Bashing, Definitely NSFW, Rough but consensual sex, (I literally titled this chapter Morticia and Gomez: Acotar Edition)

(super pretty dividers by @cafekitsune)

"I want you to keep away from her." 

Azriel held back a sigh.

He should have expected something like this probably... but it was still pissing him off.

Azriel kept his expression carefully neutral as he met Rhys' gaze. "Why?" he asked simply, his voice giving nothing away.

Rhys scowled, crossing his arms. "Because I say so," he said firmly. "I don't want you anywhere near her."

Azriel held back a snort. "Out of pure interest," he drawled. "Why exactly are you suddenly this interested in what female I pursue?"

Rhys clenched his jaw, his irritation mounting at Azriel's questioning. "I'm not interested in the specifics," he said gruffly. "I just don't want you anywhere near her, that's all'."

"You don't want me near Elain and you don't want me near Cate," Azriel said drily. “Anybody else?”

Rhys bristled at Azriel's words, his eyes narrowing. "This isn't about Elain," he said hotly. "This is about Cate. And I don't want you anywhere near Cate, understood?"

Azriel raised an eyebrow, his own irritation rising. "And why, pray tell, do you get to dictate who I spend my time with?" he asked, his voice deceptively casual.

Rhys bristled at Azriel's tone, his irritation growing.

"Because I'm the High Lord, and this is my court," he said, his voice taking on a cold, authoritative tone. "And I don't want you involved with her."

Azriel rolled his eyes, his patience wearing thin. "And what's your reason for that?" he asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Afraid she'll give me cooties?"

Rhys visibly bristled, his irritation clear in his eyes.

"Damnit, Azriel, you know it's not about that," he snapped "She's not right for you. She's too powerful, too unpredictable. She'll only cause trouble and chaos."

Azriel let out a scoff, his own irritation rising. "And who are you to say who's right for me?" he shot back. "You don't know a thing about her, or about my own feelings."

Didn't know how sometimes Cate was the only one who understood him...who didn't judge him...who said nothing and just listened. 

"I know enough to say she's trouble," Rhys said firmly. "And that's all I need to know. She doesn't belong here, and she doesn't belong with you."

"Speak for yourself," Azriel answered calmly. "I know her. She knows me. I trust her."

He did know her. He knew her better than anybody else in his life. He trusted her with his life and he trusted her to act in the best interest of Prythian. 

Rhys's eyes widened, his anger replaced by surprise and disbelief. "You...you trust her?" he asked, his voice filled with incredulity. "After everything I've said, after everything I've warned you about, you still trust her? You know some of the things that she has done!"

Azriel didn't flinch.

"She isn't the only person with blood on her hands," he responded evenly.

She really wasn’t. He had done worse than her. At least Cate had always acted on behalf of Fate and the vision that came to her. She did what needed to be done to make the best vision come to life. 

He had just slaughtered people on the orders of Rhys’ father. 

Rhys bristled at Azriel's response, his face tightening with anger. "That's entirely different, and you know it," he snapped. "We may have blood on our hands, but we do what we do for the betterment of this court, of the Night Court. We have a responsibility to protect our people and our land. You cannot compare us to her."

"Can't we?" Azriel asked. As far as he cared…they were much more similar than Rhys would like. "She has her reasons, Rhys, if you believe it or not."

"She could have killed Amarantha and she didn't!" Rhys bit out.

Oh. 

Azriel should have realised that that was going to be the sticking point. 

He knew where Cate had spent these 50 years. Keeping an eye on Hybern. He had thought she was dead. Had thought that maybe Cate had been Amarantha’s first political murder…but Cate had always been smart enough to know when to go underground. When to hide herself away so well that it was impossible to find her, even for him.

Only after the last battle with Hybern had been fought…only then, her information trickle to him. She had been fighting her own, one-woman mission, keeping the human lands as safe as she could. 

And she had also told him what exactly would have happened if she had interfered more obviously. If she hadn’t hidden herself away in the shadows, made sure that nobody knew that she was a piece on the chessboard as well. 

“She had her reason,” Azriel said quietly. 

"Why didn't she?" Rhys shot back, his anger flaring. "She had the power to do it. She has the capability. But instead, she chose to stand by and watch us suffer. She chose to let us endure fifty years of torture and horrors."

Azriel's expression darkened. "There are things you don't know, Rhys," he said quietly. "Things that no one knows, things that she hasn't told anyone."

He knew what he asked her about…but there were some things where Cate just turned silent...just stared emptily in front of her with these green eyes an ocean of pain and suffering…and he left it at that. It was better that way. 

There were things that Cate didn't even tell him...that she never would utter to a single soul. 

Rhys clenched his jaw, his irritation and frustration mounting even more at Azriel's words. "And what exactly would those 'things' be that she hasn't told anyone?" he asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

He could feel the adamantium ripped claws against the shield of his mind, could feel the deep gouges Rhys left and he held his own, clenching his teeth.

Rhys let out a growl of frustration, Azriel's mental shields holding firm against the onslaught of Rhys.

"Damnit, Azriel," he bit out. "I'm trying to protect you, can't you see that?"

"All I am seeing is that you keep trying to control me," Azriel bit out.

"Control you?" Rhys repeated incredulously. "You think that's what this is about? You think I'm just controlling you because I feel like it?"

Azriel shot him a dark glance. "What else do you call trying to dictate who I do and don't spend my time with, hm?"

First Elain, now Cate. Azriel was done. 

What he did with Cat had no political ramifications for Rhys whatsoever…unless one counted easier access to certain kinds of information. 

"I'm trying to look out for you, you stubborn, infuriating, idiot," Rhys gritted out. "I'm trying to keep you safe, to keep you from getting hurt. From getting burned."

Azriel let out a scoff, his irritation mounting. "And do you really think I'm so weak and helpless that I need you to 'keep' me safe?" he shot back. "| can take care of myself, Rhys. I don't need you hovering over me like a mother hen."

"You are the spymaster of this court! And you are colluding with her!"

"Colluding?" Azriel repeated, his tone flat. "We're not planning a coup if that's what you're implying. Actually, if you truly think that I would do something like that...then I think I have no place in this court anymore." 

Rhys froze at Azriel's words, his irritation replaced by surprise and a hint of guilt. "Don't say that," he said, his voice quieter now. "That's not what I meant, and you know it."

"Do I?" Azriel asked him flatly. 

If Rhys truly thought that he and Cate were planning to topple his throat, then Azriel should not be trusted at all. 

Rhys let out a huff, running a hand through his hair.

"Damnit, Azriel," he muttered. "You know me better than that. You know that I would never doubt your loyalty."

"Az..." Cassian piped up.

Azriel's gaze turned to Cassian, who had been watching the exchange silently from the sidelines. "What?" he bit out. "Want to call Cate a whore? Again? Or would you like to go back to implying that she is using me? Again? Do you truly take me for stupid enough that I wouldn't have noticed?" 

Cassian tensed at Azriel's sharp words, his own irritation mounting at being called out so directly. "I'm not calling her a whore," he muttered defensively. "I just think you're being reckless, that's all."

"The one thing Cate did was to help Nesta," Azriel said, his voice even. "I know you didn't like it, but it clearly worked. Nesta made that choice, Cassian. And Nesta had every right to make this fucking choice too."

Cassian clenched his jaw, stung by Azriel's words. "I get that," he bit out. "And thanks to her, I now got a mate that's so fucking furious with me that she doesn't even talk to me anymore."

"I hate to be the one to tell you, but that Nesta is angry at you, has nothing to do with Cate," Azriel snapped. "She's angry because you think you have a right to decide what she does with her own body. We have some people who think they can decide what happens to a female's body in this court. Do you truly wish to put yourself on the same level as them?" Azriel said lowly.

Cassian froze, his expression darkening at the implications of Azriel's words. "I'm not like that," he said tightly, his own anger mounting. "You know damn well I'm not like that."

"Prove it," Azriel bit out. "Cate only cast a Dreamcatcher Spell. She has cast the same on me, numerous times. The only thing it does is to blunt the emotional impact of the nightmares. Nothing else. She did that as a favour to me, Cassian."

Cassian scowled. "So she's your personal magic spell caster now?" he asked, his voice cold. "She's just there to help you get a good night's sleep?"

Azriel's nostrils flared at Cassian's barbed words. "She's my friend, not just some 'spell caster'," he said, his voice tight with anger. "And maybe if you actually bothered to talk to her yourself instead of just listening to rumours, you would see that too."

Cassian shot him a dark glance, his expression closed off.

"I'm not interested in getting to know her," he said coldly.

Azriel let out a scoff, his own anger mounting even more. "Of course, you aren't," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "It's easier to judge someone without knowing them, isn't it?"

Rhys stepped in, his voice cutting through the tension in the air. "Alright, that's enough," he said firmly. "This arguing is getting us nowhere. We need to figure out a way forward, not keep sniping at each other like children."

Azriel clenched his jaw, his own irritation still simmering beneath the surface.

Cassian grumbled to himself but finally nodded. "Fine," he muttered. "What do you suggest, then?"

Rhys let out a sigh, running a hand through his hair. "Well, for starters, Azriel, maybe you could stop spending so much time with her," he suggested.

Azriel couldn't help but bark out a laugh. "No," he said drily. "I really don't care if you like it or not, Rhys, but Cate's presence in my life is not something that we are going to argue about. Either you accept it or you don't. If you don't, you'll get to find yourself a new spymaster."

Rhys froze at Azriel's words, his eyes widening in surprise.

"Are you...are you actually threatening to quit over this?" he asked, a hint of incredulity in his voice.

"It's not a threat," Azriel said quietly. "I am telling you that my relationship with Cate is not up for debate. I am telling you that her presence in my life is non-negotiable. She's important to me, Rhysand."

Maybe the most important of them all. 

She understood him. Nobody else understood him. She wasn’t scared of him. Everybody was always scared of him. She didn’t once flinch away from the things he had done, because she had done the same or worse. It was so…easy to be with her. 

He didn’t need to pull on a mask and behave like a normal person, because she wasn’t normal either. She would never judge him for some of the horrific dark thoughts that ran around in his head. She had the same.

Rhys clenched his jaw, trying to rein in his anger. "You'd really throw away centuries of loyalty and friendship for her?" Rhys asked tightly.

"If you don't trust me anymore to do my job, then there is nothing to throw away," Azriel said quietly. "You already stopped treating me like your brother by Winter Solstice, Rhysand. I did what you asked. I kept away from Elain. I only tried to help Nesta, but you don't like my methods, so clearly I must be out to destroy my brother's mating bond. Gods, do you even hear yourself?! Cate has done nothing to you, or to Nesta or to Elain. She offered her help, even when she was treated utterly reprehensible by you,” he spat out. 

Rhys bristled at the accusation, his irritation mounting. "I never said I didn't trust you, Azriel," he gritted out. "I just don't trust her"

Azriel let out a scoff, his own annoyance sharpening.

"Why?" he asked, his voice sharp as a knife. "Why is it that you're so desperate to find fault in her that you're questioning my judgement and my own ability to be discerning?"

Rhys clenched his jaw, his irritation warring with a hint of guilt. "I just... just think you're not seeing her clearly," he said, his voice tight. "She's clouding your mind, making you see her in a more... favourable light."

Azriel rolled his eyes, his irritation mounting again. "I'm not some damn swooning schoolboy, Rhys," he said firmly. "I'm not some naive idiot that falls for every pretty face. And you should know me better than to assume that I would let her manipulate me in such a way."

Without a word, he lifted the shirt he wore, lifting the glamour that kept the bargain mark from sight.

Rhys's eyes widened at the sight of the mark on Azriel's shoulder. "You...you made a bargain with her?" he said, disbelief and concern colouring his voice. It was a circle with a star that…not any bigger than a gold coin. 

"The very first time I met her," Azriel bit out. "To tell each other the truth, regardless of anything else."

Centuries ago...the first time he came across his witch...he had been a spy working for Rhys' father. He had been ready to snatch the mantle of spymaster for himself...until Cate had been quicker.

His competition had turned into dust...and he met Hecate The Undying.

They had a bargain. Even still to this day. To tell each other the truth.

Hers wrapped over her shoulder blade...his around his ribs.

Rhys's brow furrowed in confusion and consternation.

"Why?" he asked, his voice tight. "Why would you make such a bargain, with a stranger no less?"

Azriel gritted his teeth, his irritation mounting. He had never enjoyed talking about this particular subject. "She saved my life," he said quietly. "And it was the only way to make sure that we could trust each other."

Cassian's eyes widened in surprise. "What do you mean, she saved your life?" he asked, his voice betraying his own shock.

Azriel clenched his jaw, his irritation still there, but now a hint of vulnerability as well. "There was a...an incident, long ago," he said quietly. "Before I became spymaster...there was...more than one option for the next holder of that title. Some decided to team up. Take me out of the running. And she...she saved me from certain death. She offered me the bargain as a way to...repay the debt."

Rhys gaped at Azriel's words, shock and surprise registering on his face. Cassian was similarly taken aback, clearly having not expected this revelation. "You never told us," Rhys finally managed to say

Azriel let out a scoff, a hint of bitterness entering his voice. "Would you have believed me, if I did?" he asked, his gaze fixed on Rhys's face.

Rhys had the decency to look guilty at that, his jaw clenching as he tried to find an answer. But before he could say anything, Cassian spoke up. "Azriel, you know we would have listened to you, right?" he asked, his voice tight with suppressed emotion.

Azriel let out a huff, his irritation and defensiveness faltering momentarily in the face of Cassian's genuine concern. "..." he started, but then trailed off, shaking his head. "It doesn't matter," he said quietly, his voice guarded.

"It does matter," Cassian urged, taking a step forward. "You're my brother, Azriel. We have fought together, bled together. We have shared everything. Why would you think we wouldn't believe you about something this important?"

"Because you don't believe me right now," Azriel spat out. 

Cassian reeled back, stung by Azriel's response. "That's not...that's not true," he protested, even as the guilt settled in the pit of his stomach.

Azriel let out a scoff. "Is it? You don't believe me when I say that she's trustworthy. You think she's manipulating me, that she's somehow got me under her spell. We've met 500 years ago. If she had me under her spell it would not be a new thing," he said flippantly. "She came to Velaris on my request. Because I knew that we could use all the help we could get with Koschei and with Elain."

Cassian's eyebrows shot up at Azriel's admission. "Wait, she's here because...you asked her to come?" he asked, surprise and a hint of disbelief colouring his voice.

Azriel let out a scoff, his irritation flaring again. "Yes, Cassian, she's here because I asked her to come," he bit out. "Can you believe that? Incredible that this selfish monster comes just because I say please, right?! That she is willing to help, even when she gets nothing out of it."

There was a hint of bitter sarcasm in his voice that sent a pang through Rhys' chest. "Azriel, that's not..." he started, but trailed off, unsure what to say.

"I don't want to hear it," Azriel said sharply. "Keep out of my private life. Both of you. You can trust me to act in the best interest of this court. But you will not get me to give up Cate. I'll be by her side until she decides she doesn't want me to be."

Rhys and Cassian both froze at Azriel's firm declaration, both taken aback by the fierce protectiveness in his voice.

There was a tense silence in which neither one of them dared to speak.

"General, High Lord," Azriel drawled before he turned on.his heel and walked out.

For a moment, neither one of them spoke. They just stood there, quietly watching as Azriel stormed off, the door clicking shut behind him.

Finally, Rhys let out a heavy sigh. "Well, that could have gone better."

Azriel though... Azriel went home.

Azriel stalked through the streets, his expression thunderous. He was furious with Rhys and Cassian for questioning his judgement, and for not trusting him. But he was also feeling a growing sense of agitation and anxiety over the whole situation.

As he finally approached his house, he paused momentarily, taking a deep breath to try and quell the mix of emotions swirling within him.

Not to a place. No place had ever been home for him. But to a person. A person that he knew he could trust with his life.

They had never put a label on what exactly their relationship was.

Had never bothered with it. They had always just been...them. They came together and then they went apart again, sometimes for weeks, sometimes decades...but every time they came back together it was like no time had passed at all.

But he knew what it was. Knew what it was to meet his other half...his perfect, match, his equal. And he didn't care what anybody else thought about it any longer. He was done trying to hide, done trying to behave in a way that was more socially acceptable. He wanted his witch.

He wanted Cate. 

He wanted her warm laughter, her sharp wit. He wanted her soft body to bury his face as he breathed her in. He wanted those big, green eyes of hers to look at him with affection, not suspicion.

He wanted her in a way he had never wanted anything or anyone before in his existence. And he would be damned if he let anyone come between them.

He finally arrived at Cate's townhouse, his heart thudding in his chest. He didn't hesitate for a moment, not even bothering to knock as he pushed down the handle to the door and stepped into the house.

Azriel gave the jaguar a nod in greeting, his expression softening slightly as he glanced down at the jaguar. "Hey, you," he said quietly. "Where's Cate?"

Belladonna was her familiar, bound to her through an ancient magical ritual. She served as a companion, as a focus for Cate’s magic, as protector…She was a part of Cate just like his shadows were for him.

He didn’t need an actual thought until his shadows went to swarm to her, always having liked the big cat that playfully swiped at them, claws carefully withdrawn, before she looked at Azriel and then in the direction of the bedroom.

Azriel let out a soft breath as he saw the direction of the jaguar's glance. He took that as a cue to head to the bedroom, his heart beating faster with every step he took.

Azriel let out a soft breath as he saw her spread out on the bed, asleep. He moved forward quietly, his gaze trailing over her face, over her unruly red hair, her freckled arms and slender legs. She was so beautiful, so vulnerable without her usual sharp edge.

He could see the signs of exhaustion on her face, the dark circles under her eyes, the slight frown on her forehead. She was tired, no doubt from the day's events. He felt a pang in his chest, an overwhelming urge to protect her, to take care of her in that moment. 

The High Lord went to see her this morning, his shadows whispered. Her magic forced him out of the house.

Azriel grunted, his eyes narrowing as the shadows informed him of Rhys' visit to Cate's house. That meddling bastard, he grumbled, a hint of irritation in his voice. He should've left her alone.

It must have gotten bad if Cate had forced Rhys out of her house.

He didn't hesitate as he undressed. Regardless of Cassian's worry for his manhood, Azriel had never worried about that once.

As he got into the bed behind her, he pulled her close to him, savouring the feeling of her body against his. Azriel tucked his head into the crook of her neck, breathing in the scent of her hair. He wrapped his arm around her, holding her tightly against him like a lifeline.

For a moment, he just lay there, holding her close, taking comfort in the sound of her slow, steady breathing. But then he couldn't help it, his hand began to wander. It started at her waist, tracing lightly over the curves of her body.

He moved up, his fingers tracing over the delicate skin of her hip, her ribs, the valley between her breasts. He heard her breath hitch as he touched her, her body stirring in response to his touch. He felt her press back against him, her body seeking out the comfort of his touch. He pressed his lips to the nape of her neck, his mouth moving lightly over the sensitive skin.

Cate let out a soft sigh, her body responding to him, arching slightly in his arms. He couldn't resist, his hand wandering lower, tracing the line of her hipbone, the softness of her stomach. He felt her shiver as he touched her, her fingers twitching in the sheets.

He didn't stop, his hand continuing its journey down, down to the apex of her thighs. He pressed his fingers gently against her flesh, feeling the heat…the wetness that already coated his fingers. Between one breath and the next, her eyes opened slowly, a soft gasp escaping her lips. She turned her head slightly, her gaze lazily meeting his. "Azriel," she breathed, her voice ragged with sleep and desire.

Azriel moved quickly, his lips capturing hers in a searing kiss. He poured all his desperation, his need for her, into the kiss, his hand still tracing over the soft skin of her thighs.

If Cate was caught off guard by his forwardness, but she quickly recovered and pressed herself against him, responding to his kiss with a soft mewl.

Her tongue met his, dancing against it, and he could taste the familiar hint of apples and spice in her mouth. It sent a shiver down his spine, sparking a blaze of desire within him.

Her. Nothing, nobody had ever been able to compare.

Azriel ran one of his hands down her side, her curves a familiar and comforting sensation. He deepened the kiss, claiming more, pushing her harder into the wall, pressing his body against hers.

The desire, the fierce need to touch, taste, and feel all of her, was mounting rapidly, taking over his senses.

He broke the kiss momentarily, panting as he took her in.

Cate's hair was even more tousled, her lips red and wet. Her eyes had darkened to an almost black hue, the want in them so clear that it made his very blood sing.

He leaned back in, his lips trailing down her neck, nipping and sucking at the soft skin. He could feel her body responding to his touch, the way she pressed herself into him, arching into him in silent invitation.

Her scent, her taste, the feel of her...the noises she made...all of it drove him crazy, made him want more, more...more of her. Azriel pressed himself against her, his body desperate for connection, for the feel of her skin against his.

He couldn't get enough of her, couldn't stop himself from touching her, from tasting her, from making her moan and writhe under his touch.

Azriel moved down, his lips and tongue trailing over her collarbone, her throat, and the top of her chest.

Azriel was drowning in her, his senses overrun by everything that was this glorious, maddening female. He could feel his hands shaking with the need to touch her, to hold her and never let go.

He needed her, needed to make her his, to claim her completely. His hands roamed over her body, caressing, teasing, marking her skin with his touch, marking her as his and only his.

A bite here, a kiss there, adding to the patchwork of bruises and hickeys he had already left. Cate was his.

His fingers traced over her skin, trailing over the marks he had left behind. It was satisfying in a primal way, to see the evidence of his possession of her body. His. She was his.

"Say it," he whispered hoarsely, his voice a rough, needy growl. "Say you're mine."

His hands continued their assault, his fingers trailing over her hips, her stomach, up to her thighs.

He wanted, no, needed to hear the words from her lips, needed her to confirm what he already knew in his heart to be true. And judging by the way she arched into his touch, the way her eyes darkened further at his demand, she wanted it just as badly as he did.

"Cate," he said again, his voice even rougher than before. "Say it. Say you're mine."

He punctuated his demand with a bite to her shoulder, sharp and possessive.

His hands roamed over her body again, more insistent, more desperate. He knew he was being greedy, that he was pushing the boundaries, but he didn't care. He needed her to say those words. He needed her to claim him as much as he was claiming her.

Her breath hitched, her body arching again. He could feel the heat emanating from her, the desire burning in her veins just as strongly as it burned in his.

"I'm...I'm yours," Cate gasped out, her voice ragged with need.

He rewarded her with his cock thrusting inside her, a cry coming from her, just as he bit down again. 

She hadn’t truly been ready for him, but neither of them had ever shied away from a bite of pain. Besides, he trusted her to use her safeword if she needed it. And she would. They may played rough, but they had done this often enough to know each other’s boundaries very well. 

And like this, her body quivering around him, her cunt struggling to stretch around him, her body tightly pressed against him…for once she was utterly at his mercy. 

His body thrummed with a primal satisfaction, as he began to move, his body rocking against hers. His grip on her hips was bruising, the need to lose himself in her overwhelming. His lips found her neck again, kissing and sucking the sensitive skin, drawing out soft gasps from her. The sound of their breathing and the soft wet slapping of skin mingled with the occasional thump against the wall, the only sound in the otherwise silent room. He lost himself in the feeling of her, the way she moved and writhed against him. The desire, the passion, the desperate need to be closer, more was almost a living thing, driving him to move faster, harder, claiming her and being claimed.

He was consumed by her, by the sensations coursing through his body, by the sheer need to be as close to her as physically possible. 

Azriel could feel himself approaching the edge

Her body was shuddering, clenching around him, the soft gasps and mewls becoming whimpers as she too felt the tension building. He could feel her nails biting into his skin, the sting of it feeding him, pushing him further on.

His movements became faster, more frantic. He was close, so close, but he wanted her to go over the edge with him. He nipped at her neck, the sound of her gasps and moans spurring him on. His grip tightened on her hips, his fingers digging into her flesh, desperate to hold on.

 "Mine," he repeated, more to himself than to her. "Mine," he said again, the word a low growl.

He repeated the word again and again, like a mantra, a desperate claim. As he felt her body shuddering against his, the sounds of her climax mingling with his own, he said it again, for good measure, his mouth against the shell of her ear. "Mine," he said again, his voice ragged and raw. "You're mine."

And as Azriel let his body surrender to the climax, the sensation overwhelming and all-consuming, he repeated it once more, his eyes closed, his forehead resting against hers.

"You're mine."

As they both came down, he didn't let go of her. He kept her close, his arms wrapped around her like a lifeline.

"I love you," he murmured in her ear, his voice hoarse but firm. He had never said the words aloud, but now it felt like a dam had burst, a truth that had been there all along finally spilling out into the open.

"I love you," he repeated, his eyes still shut, his face nuzzling against her neck. He could feel her heartbeat against his chest, the rapid thump slowly returning to a more normal pace.

He wasn't even sure why he'd kept the words from her for so long. Fear, maybe, of scaring her off. Or maybe because he was just so used to keeping his emotions tightly leashed.

Maybe because he knew that she thought that every other person would just keep leaving her.

He knew her well enough to be aware of her trust issues. He knew that she had walls built up, as high as the damn sky. He knew that she was terrified of putting her heart on the line and getting it broken.

It was buried deep, hidden behind her prickly exterior, her sharp tongue, and her fiercely independent spirit. But once you broke through all of that, once you earned her trust and got through those walls of hers, her love was fierce, unwavering, and loyal to a fault. 

He took her face in his hands, tilting it up so he could look at her. "Say it," he demanded again, the need to hear her say the words overwhelming. "Please," he added softly, the desperate plea in his voice clear.

He searched her face, his eyes locking with hers, pleading and desperate. He needed to hear those three little words from her more than he needed air to breathe. He cupped her face in his hands, tilting her head up so he could look directly into her eyes.

Her eyes met his, the green depths holding a mixture of love, amusement, and tenderness. She let out a soft huff, gently cupping his face in her hands. "Of course, I love you, you sap," she said, her voice warm and affectionate.

The words washed over him like a balm, soothing and healing, chasing away the doubts that had lingered in his mind. He let out a shaky breath, his eyes still locked with hers. "You love me?" he asked, his voice a hoarse whisper as if he still couldn't quite believe it.

He felt a rush of emotion, a combination of joy, relief, and disbelief. He pulled her closer, burying his head in the crook of her neck once again. "Again," he whispered. "Say it again. 

Her laughter vibrated through her body, the sound like music to his ears. "I love you," she repeated, the words firm and steady. "I love you, you insufferable, overprotective bat."

He chuckled, the sound muffled against her skin. Her words felt like a balm to his soul, soothing away the last remnants of uncertainty.

"Insufferably overprotective, huh?" he asked, his lips curving into a soft smile against her neck.

She huffed again, the sound amused and affectionate. "You're a 500-year-old warrior with severe control issues," she pointed out. "What else am I supposed to call you?"

He hummed, the sound an imitation of agreement. "Severe control issues," he repeated, lifting his head to look at her again. He brushed a loose strand of hair off her face, tucking it behind her ear. "Is that really how you see me?"

"Yes," she replied without missing a beat. "You are insufferable. You are possessive and territorial, and sometimes I just want to strangle you." A note of laughter crept into her voice.

"Strangle me, huh?" he retorted, lifting his head slightly.

She laughed again, her hands coming up to thread through his hair. "You're lucky I love you," she teased.

"I think I'm the luckiest male alive," he replied, leaning in to press a kiss to her neck.

"Some people will vehemently disagree with you there," Cate said, her voice quiet.

He chuckled his lips still against her skin. "Let them," he murmured. "I'm not here to please everyone, only you."

She hummed, her nails scratching lightly at his scalp. "You're too sappy for your own good," she scolded softly. "I never want to come between you and your family," Cate said quietly.

He lifted his head, his expression turning serious. "You never will," he said firmly, his voice carrying an undercurrent of steel. "You're mine, and I won't let anyone or anything get between us."

She rolled her eyes, but he cupped her cheek. "I am serious. They are not going to like this," she warned him. "They didn't even like it when we were just...having fun."

He stroked her cheek gently with his thumb. "That's their problem," he said, his voice firm. "I don't care what they think. I care about you. And I will fight tooth and nail for us if I have to."

"You're incredible," she murmured, her eyes soft. "And I swear to the Mother, if you get yourself killed out of some misplaced sense of protectiveness, I will resurrect you and kill you myself."

He couldn't help but laugh at that.

He chuckled. "That's fair," he conceded, his thumb still tracing gentle circles on her cheek. "But I don't care what anybody thinks. Let them have their opinions. I don't care what they think. All that matters is that I have you."

She let out a shaky laugh, relief and affection warring in her eyes. "You're insane," she told him, though her voice was filled with affection. "You know that, right?"

"Only when it comes to you," he assured her, his hand moving to cup her chin. "You drive me mad, in the best possible way."

[kairiscorner]

he is me and i am him (also i updated my masterlist, i put a jjk section !!)

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

he's so sorry he made you cry... kinda. – teen!satoru gojo x reader

summary: he was never a nice guy, you knew that, but even so... he does have a heart, a literal anatomical one; he's just never shown you how much you make it beat like crazy. pairing: teen!satoru gojo x reader genre: lil' bit of angst and a whole lot of comfort and fluff 🫶🫶🫶

satoru gojo is a little shit. well, a head and a half taller than you piece of shit, but who cares? you do, a little bit, but the fact he's so much taller than you isn't what bothered you—it's the fact that he effortlessly makes you feel shitty about yourself.

satoru gojo was the worst guy you ever met, and you've met all kinds of douchebags in your life—but he definitely takes the cake. he's insensitive, crass, lazy... he's everything you hate in a person. you had no idea how anybody could like him. the only reason you hang around him is because you're friends with shoko and geto, no other reason. you'd kick him out if you could, but you didn't wanna hurt the two of them so you just... had to bear him and his shitty attitude.

satoru gojo was so boisterous, he always filled the silence with his stupid jokes and gags that you were surprised anyone would laugh at. he was so noisy... it was like he wanted his voice to be remembered by everyone, especially you.

satoru gojo doesn't know when enough is enough when it comes to you, he assumes that your angry, annoyed face is a face you make when he's doing a good job at riling you up–and it is, but he's yet to understand just how mean he can really be towards you. he thinks that a lot of his jokes towards you always come across the way he wants them to; they're just harmless little jabs at you, no biggie... until he jabs you a little too hard that tears start falling from the corner of your eyes.

satoru gojo knows nothing, nothing, about comforting people when they're crying–he's unsure why you're even crying in the first place. if he wanted to make you cry, he'd've done much worse than just poke some fun at you and tease you for a few of your shortcomings, but he never meant to make you cry. he teased you that you were a crybaby, a sensitive little cutie that gets pissed about everything. turns out, he was partially right, you were indeed expressive with your emotions, but only when they reach the boiling point, and you just... can't take his bullshit anymore.

satoru gojo had never seen you so vulnerable before; he had always thought you were the type to not get so affected by some guy's unsolicited opinion, but he wasn't just some guy to you... he was satoru gojo for crying out loud; and you didn't care if he was some hotshot sorcerer or womanizer or anybody else important or well-known or liked–he was an asshole, he... he shouldn't have affected you this much. you weren't angry at him, at least not anymore, you were more angry at yourself for letting his words get to you.

satoru gojo felt awkward and a bit unsure of what to do as he watched you cry, with you trying your hardest to wipe your tears away amidst you sobbing a whole new batch of tears. it was like his words had cut so deep into your heart that you forgot how to close the faucet of your tears. you were so mad... how could a jerk like him get to you that well?

satoru gojo would've left you right then and there for you to deal with the aftermath of his overstepping, like hell did he want an earful from shoko and geto from his idiocy and insensitivity again, but there was just something about your pathetic little self that gojo felt compelled to deal with, to... console.

satoru gojo hates this feeling, he hates feeling responsible for feelings that aren't even his. you would think that for a guy who gets a lot of praise from people for his looks and abilities, he'd know how to deal with them and get them off his back–but he doesn't. he sighs as he looks away from you, his brows furrowed together in agitation as he tries to settle with himself that he shouldn't stay, he shouldn't try comforting you when he doesn't even have the faintest idea on how to even start.

satoru gojo sighs and groans loudly as he crouches to level with you, rubbing the back of his neck as he tried to collect his thoughts. "oi, crybaby, look at me." he said to you in a snappy voice as you looked up at him with angry eyes, your vision being blurred as the tears obscured your sight. if your goal was to make gojo feel bad, well you were doing a semi-bad job; he doesn't yield to anybody's tears, or at least, he didn't until he became the reason you cried for the first time.

satoru gojo sighed again as he took off his sunglasses, wanting to face you fully, show you he isn't kidding around. you looked away from him again as you buried your face in your palms, your muffled sobs getting louder as gojo approached you. "c'mon now, crybaby... y'know i didn't really wanna make you weep–crying doesn't look good on you." he muttered as he gently grabbed your wrists and pulled them away from your face, seeing your eyes dripping with tears and your nostrils wet with snot.

satoru gojo chuckled as he saw your usually prim and proper face being all disheveled and wet, to believe he was the first guy in a long while to make you sob isn't that unbelievable–and though he felt a small pang in his chest that urged him to cheer you up, he kinda found this other side of you as... kinda adorable.

satoru gojo gently wiped your tears away with the pads of his thumbs, chuckling lowly as he did; muttering how swollen your eyes look now, how they–despite him saying that crying didn't suit you–you looked really pretty with this more somber look on your face. "for a crybaby, you sure look kinda pretty after sobbing. it's pathetic, sure, but... kinda hot as well." he said in a hushed voice that was laced with mischief as he stuck his tongue out at you as you looked at him all angrily, as if you were about to hit him for what he said.

satoru gojo laughed loudly when you said you weren't a crybaby, you just... you just felt a little vulnerable. "yeah, yeah, say what you want to feel better, crybaby. and, so i can see you smile that impish little grin again..." he uttered as he leaned closer to you–his aquamarine blue eyes locking with your own as he stared into the pretty hue of your irises–and says with a wide smirk on his face: "i'm sorry..." and he blows a raspberry at your face and chuckles. "kinda." he ends as he pulls away from you, pinching your cheek all the while. he dons on his sunglasses as he pinches your cheeks again, noticing how bite-able they are. some things just never change, do they? well, at least you heard the satoru gojo speak an apology, even if it was fake, or semi-fake.

[max1461]

Ok, here's the hill I'm gonna die on: I hate the concept of "chores". I hate it both in the context of parenting, and in the context of romantic relationships. A "chore" is something that you do because you were made to do it by an authority figure. Nobody likes that, and rightly so. But, living in an imperfect world as we do, there are various tasks that need doing. And when we care about each other, helping with these tasks and seeking help with these tasks are some of the most significant things we can do to show it. I think all our thinking around "chores" should flow from that.

Like, if you are a parent, bringing your kids in to help with the Very Important Tasks that the grow-ups do can be presented like an offer, not a command. The kid gets to help! They get to participate! They get to be needed! That feels good, and teaches them skills they'll need when fending for themselves later in life. It's not a chore that you must do, it's "come help mommy and/or daddy with this Important Grown-up Business". In my experience, most kids like that kind of opportunity. And not only does this give them practice helping others, it also teaches them that it's ok to ask for help, and that tasks are things which are often best approached as a team.

Yes, probably kids are still sometimes not going to want to participate. To me this is a heartening thing, however inconvenient it may be in the moment—I like when kids feel the strength to advocate for their own desires—but, you know, sometimes tasks still need to be done, so handle this how you will. But just not presenting things as "chores" from the get-go is I think a good place to start.

As for "chores" in relationships... I do get how, ya know, if a relationship partner says "you need to start doing more chores around here" or something, that could feel bad. Because, it's like, they're framing themselves as an authority figure who gets to assign chores; that would feel bad to anybody! But at the same time it's like, ok—life is full of tasks that need doing, as mentioned above. And if you love and care about someone, if you claim to have their back, shouldn't you want to help ease the load of all those fucking tasks they're burdened with? Isn't that a big part of what caring for someone is all about?

Relationships require labor, and figuring out how to set up an equitable distribution of labor in a relationship can be a genuinely hard problem. Especially if one or both partners are disabled, and things like that. I can't tell you how to do that for you and your situation. But I think a good place to start from is both partners thinking of it like "I care about you, so I want to help you with all these tasks, I want to help make your life easier". Not as, you know, "these are all the chores I/they have to do". That's why it's actually important for both partners to put in their fair share of labor in a relationship. Not because either is an authority figure who has the ability to assign "chores" to the other, but because when two (or more) adults have decided to live together and be committed to each other and face life together, they should be working to make each other's lives better and not worse, taking care of each other, and cooperating to fight The Tasks together is generally a pretty fundamental part of that.

And if your partner isn't helping you with The Tasks, it's not that they're a disobedient child who won't do chores, it's that they're an adult who's meant to be your ally in life but who isn't living up to all the responsibilities of that role, isn't helping take care of the things that need doing. And that's not a fair or compassionate way to treat someone that you're supposed to be a partner to.

Idk if any of that makes sense. I just don't like the concept of "chores" ok. We're all oppressed by The Tasks and helping each other with The Tasks is one of the most important ways we reach out, connect, show love and affection, and express our responsibilities and commitments to each other. I just don't think there's ever a case where it's good to frame it as "chores".

[icanseethefuture333]

Hi Desi ! Can i ask you who is stray kids would date a woc of different ethnicities ? Thank you :)

Oop! 😳 Time to spill some more tea then 🤭

MTL to date a WOC outside of Korea in Stray Kids:

(According to my pendulum, based off of their current energy / preferences)

Felix

I.N

Bang Chan

Changbin

Seungmin

Han

Hyunjin

Lee Know

Top row:

Left is Bang Chan, center is I.N, and right is Felix

Bang chan's reasoning for being third most likely is because he's very sexually enticed by woc outside of his race. They peak his interest and finds them attractive. I am pretty sure he's been with them before. Some of you guys might not want to hear this but it's giving he wants to soar his oats with just about anybody 🫣. I'm not really getting any romantic feelings, so he seems non committal or he would date a foreigner, but would really have to think about if he'd marry one. He's not really mature yet long term for a cross cultural or interracial relationship. Bang Chan is still ignorant in some areas of other cultures (he just wants to fuck 🥱). It's just giving like he is aware of other people's culture and then when dating someone who's not from the same culture, it's like he think would make a better partner than someone hasn't before. A know it all who doesn't really know it all ifykwim. When its like he can't hold any of his relationships down, he constantly searches for new beginnings or the next thing sexually (for any Bang Chan fans ready to fight don't be arguing with me on anon in my inbox!!! This is his energy for now, he's in his fuckboy era, do not put the blame on me for this! Sometimes we won't always hear the most pure or positive messages about our faves and that is okay)

Ngl I.N surprised me 😳 even though I did channeled before that his future spouse was someone that had dual citizenships (Korean and British). I was pleased to hear what his response was on dating a woc outside of his country or race. I.N's view on dating a woc that isn't Korean is quite positive. He shows admiration for them and has more pure intentions than I would say in comparison to Bang Chan (💀 I mean no shade??? but eh, I said what I said). I.N would be very supportive and willing to learn about his partner's culture or traditions. He honestly wouldn't care as long as they have similar family structures. I.N is rebellious by nature, so he just cares about his happiness and the happiness of his loved ones.

Felix's reasoning for being most likely to date a woc is given the fact he feels like he is an outsider in his own country and culture as well. He is Korean, but doesn't feel Korean enough? Felix resonates more with how he grew up in Australia and misses that lifestyle. There is water here and what seems like a beach. Felix could outpour a lot of love towards people that are different from him now and doesn't judge based off of racial stereotypes. Being able to travel overseas and meet new people has allowed him to open his mind and broaden his horizons. It's almost as if he was limiting himself in some areas (caring too much about labels, what's Korean, what's not Korean, what makes him Australian or what doesn't make him Australian). Controversial maybe??? Felix could feel more loved and respected by woc outside of Korea (I laughed I'm sorry 💀). There is a cultural difference so maybe they are more expressive with their love language where as in Korea they show it differently (I.E: a foreign woc might be affectionate and show physical touch, where a Korean woman would exchange gifts). Felix's view on dating woc could be more so a romantic fantasy or he likes the relationships he's seen in movies, television, or music videos. I channeled this before in a reading for him but I always think of Harry Styles and his Grammy's performance for "As It Was" to be his ideal romance. (Felix fr just as delulu as the rest of us LMAOOO 🤧)

Middle row:

Left is Changbin, center is Seungmin, and right is Han

Changbin is down for whatever honestly 💀. He's not the type to search for love but more so takes action only if he wants to experience it. He's romantic in general so if anyone could handle him and his quirks, then he's happy. Changbin would be very charming. I feel like he just needs the opportunity to meet a woc? I don't think he's ever dated a woc outside of Korea fr. "I had the plan, I just needed the platform" type of energy 🤣

Seungmin would be a hot mess I'm sorry 💀 I'm not even gonna sugarcoat it. It's like he wants to but he's not doing it based off of realistic decisions. It's more so he has an idea of what it's like to date a woc outside of Korea, but he's not focusing on the sentimental value of what it means to be in a relationship. Seungmin is very picky in general and makes romantic decisions based off of his illusions (another delulu??? Free the Virgos please). So because of his high expectations he would not be able to form long lasting connections. Also woc could be turned off by his behavior as well, they would most likely call him out or reject him because he's not mature enough. They won't tolerate it. Seungmin would just get his feelings hurt but it would be his own fault for being so damn sassy all the time 😂. He is stubborn though, so he would keep trying until he learns his lesson and also he finds the right person who can match his energy. The person he dates would require a looooot of patience because he is not easy to deal with. Very chaotic energy, but funny!

The reason Han is one of the members who is least likely is because he is more shy and introverted. So going up to a person and asking them out in general is not his thing. If Han were to date a woc that wasn't Korean, he'd have to be most likely friends first. "I have anxiety bruh." (💀). He'd want to take his time and get to know the person regardless of what their race is. I don't think he has much of a preference, it's just about who he's attracted to within that time. Han would be protective of his partner though and would express his love through gifts, money, etc.

Bottom row:

Left is Hyunjin & right is Lee Know

Hyunjin for being one of the members who is least likely to date a non-Korean woc is because he is very traditional. Whenever I do readings regarding his love life he always makes this very clear. He finds some woc (yes I said some because it's not a large number of woc he likes💀) beautiful, but it's not something he wants to go through all the trouble for. Too tedious for his liking. Hyunjin's fanbase is mostly in Korea as well so he could focus more on that because that is the attention he is used to getting from, so he cares more about catering to his fans, his family's expectations, as well as his own personal preferences. It's like he's not closed off to the idea, but Hyunjin doesn't like change. He prefers to stick to what he knows and situations that are predictable. To try being in a cross cultural or interracial relationship, it would make Hyunjin really anxious, nervous, and uncomfortable, because it is a type of environment he is not used to. I can say for sure say he's only ever dated a woman who was Korean or of Asian descent. Hyunjin would have to work on his confidence and care more about his own thoughts than other people's thoughts in order to be with a woc that wasn't Korean.

Lee Know is somewhat similar to Hyunjin's response, with a nicer approach. In his opinion, he feels like it requires courage to be in a relationship with a woc outside of Korea. He believes people who date someone that isn't the same race as them go through a lot of hardship. Channeled message: "I think if I was a father and my child looked like me, or looked like me a little less because they had features like their mama, whether their skin was maybe darker or their hair was a different texture. People would be very cruel and it would make me very upset as a dad. It's not a easy route to take. Maybe in the future when I am more brave I will think about it, as for now I am okay with being a coward!" (PLS 💀)

I hope you guys enjoyed this reading! I will be forming my own harem with these 4, take care besties 💋

[ironychan]

Scary Monsters

@dysphoria-sweatshirt @30spiders @sweatersexual @angrylittlesliceofpizza @writer652

Part 1/? - Rocco’s Closet

Part 2/? - School for Monsters

Part 3/? - The Waternoose Family

Part 4/? - The Terrifying Humans

Part 5/? - Hiding Places

Part 6/? - Nobody’s Fault

Part 7/? - Edge of Disaster

Part 8/? - Caged Monsters

Part 9/? - The Journey Home

Part 10/? - Portorosso

Part 11/? - A New Family

Part 12/? - More Obstacles

The rest of the day passed far too slowly. The kids finished their grape-picking and presented the results to Signora Visconti. She was delighted and effusive in her praise of their hard work, and gave them an extra bottle of wine, along with their pay, to take back to the Pescheria. Once they reached home, they gathered up the things they thought they'd need to capture Harry and then re-enter the Monster World - and after that, there was nothing to be done but wait.

Waiting with nothing to fill the time was always terrible, and this seemed worse than usual. Luca, Alberto, and Giulia sat in the yard behind the shop and played card games while the hours ticked by, slower and slower and slower. Luca at one point went in to check the time, thinking it must be suppertime by now, but found it was only half five. He returned to the table with his shoulders slumped, feeling like he was going to curl up in a ball and cry.

Then, just to make things even worse, his parents arrived.

Helena opened the gate for them, and Daniela and Lorenzo walked in with very serious expressions on their faces. Luca knew he couldn't groan out loud, but he certainly did inwardly.

"Luca," Daniela said. "Your father and I have been talking."

Luca felt sick to his stomach. "I have to do this!" he protested.

"Honey." Daniela reached to touch his cheek, but he twitched away. "Please just listen to us."

Luca scowled, but he sat down on the picnic table bench. He hardly needed to listen, he thought. He knew exactly what was coming next.

Daniela pulled another chair over to sit facing him. Lorenzo stood behind her with one supportive hand on her shoulder.

"Luca," Daniela repeated. "We know you want to help. You're very brave, and very responsible, and we are so proud of you. But from what you've said, this world sounds incredibly dangerous, ten times more dangerous than the land, and it really seems like Louise, Curtis, and Mr. Sullivan all decided themselves that they were going to take this risk."

"Sullivan didn't," said Luca. "He was just there, and he had to help because he was in trouble anyway!"

"We've already planned everything and earned all the money," Alberto pointed out.

"And Harry needs to go back to the Monster World," Giulia agreed. "We can't quit now!"

"See? They're going to help, and if you come with me we'll have a grownup and everything," Luca said. "I can't just sit at home when I don't know what's happening to them."

"From your description of these monsters..." Daniela began.

"You're scarier than any of them!" Alberto interrupted.

"You really are!" Luca said. "Even Mr. Waternoose wouldn't want to fight you!"

"I don't plan on fighting anybody," Daniela told them. "I'm sorry, Luca, I hate having to put my foot down like this, and I definitely don't want you to believe we're punishing you because we are definitely not. But the longer we think about this, the more sure we are that we have to say no. We can't let you. I'm sorry."

She wasn't angry, but she was firm, and Luca knew in his gut that was it. He hung his head.

"What about Harry?" Giulia asked. "We promised Ercole we'd get rid of him."

"Ercole will just have to get used to him," said Daniela. "That isn't your problem, either. You can't save the whole world all by yourself, Luca," she added, to her son.

Luca's shoulders sagged further. "Dad..." he began.

"Sorry, son, but I have to agree with your mother on this," said Lorenzo. He came and put an arm around Luca's shoulders, and helped him to stand up. "Let's head home."

There was no arguing with that. Luca kept his head down, and did not speak as his parents led him out of the yard and down the steps to the water. Alberto and Giulia, too, sat in silence as Helena closed the gate behind them.

"I'm sorry," she said to the children. "I know you were all eager to do this, but... I think the Paguros are probably right. Do you want me to stay a few more days, Passerota?" she asked her daughter. "I don't have to go back tonight."

"No, that's fine," said Giulia. "Not if you don't want to."

Helena brushed Giulia's hair back to kiss her forehead, and then went indoors.

For a few minutes, Alberto and Giulia sat there in silence. Alberto leaned his head back, looking at the first few stars winking into view above. To be honest, he didn't like the idea of going back to the Monster World very much earlier. Nobody there had liked them, it was much harder to stay wet there than it was to stay dry in Portorosso, and the food hadn't been very good. They'd barely escaped the first time and there was no guarantee they'd be able to do it again. But as he'd pointed out, they'd made that whole plan and earned all that money - and more importantly, Luca really really wanted to.

Alberto himself wanted a lot of things, like a Vespa and comic books and a bell for his bicycle, but if he didn't get something right away he usually lost interest in a couple of weeks and moved on to something else. Luca was different. When Luca wanted something, he wanted it with every cell in his body and he didn't get to distracted. Alberto had come to realize that if Luca hadn't been allowed to go to school in Genova, he would have spent the entire winter moping about it, and now he was going to do the same about this.

"Right, then." Alberto stood and rolled up his sleeves. "We need a new plan."

"New plan for what?" asked Giulia morosely, leaning on her knees. She was contemplating a summer with both Ercole and Harry doing their best to make her miserable. She wasn't sure if they'd cooperate or if they'd make it a competition and she couldn't decide which would be worse.

"For how we're gonna kidnap Luca after we kidnap Harry," said Alberto.

Giulia sat up, brightening momentarily, but then she frowned again. "His mom will kill us."

"She'll have to wait until we get back from Monster World," Alberto said. "Come on. What would you have done if Luca's parents had said he wasn't allowed to go to school with you?"

"I'd've been down about it," Giulia replied, "but I wouldn't have done anything."

"Well, I would," Alberto declared. "I would have take him there on our Vespa myself. Are you gonna help, or not?"

Giulia got to her feet. She, too, knew that when Luca wanted something he wanted it intensely, and this was clearly something that meant a lot to him. "I'm coming," she decided.

"Great!" Alberto nodded. "I've already got an idea."

She snickered. "Uh-oh."

Twenty minutes later, the two of them were standing outside the Visconti house, throwing pebbles at a particular bedroom window. After a couple of hits, the window opened, and Harry looked down at them.

"I'm not leaving," he informed them, and started to close the shutters again.

"Wait!" Giulia said. "We need your help!"

Harry hesitated, then leaned out again. "With what?"

"You know how Luca wants to go back and help Louise?" Alberto said. "His parents dont' want to let him do it. They're keeping him at home, so we need to help him escape."

"That means we need a boat," Giulia added, "but my dad will definitely notice if we take his. Ercole's got one. Can you guys help us?"

"If you do," Alberto said, "we'll owe you a favour, big time."

That was something Harry understood. "What kind of favour?"

"Whatever you need," said Giulia. "We're desperate!" She crossed her fingers behind her back.

"Let me see if my new brother is still awake," Harry said.

Ercole had been expecting them, but not for Harry to be the one letting him know they'd arrived. He was in his pajamas with his hair mussed as if he'd already been in bed, and yawning as Harry dragged him out the back door to meet their guests. His expression was suspicious. This wasn't the original plan, and for a moment Giulia was afraid he was about to ask why they hadn't brought the net with them and how they were planning on kidnapping Harry without it.

Luckily, he was smarter than that. Ercole's first question was, "where did the other one go?"

"That's why we're here," said Alberto, and explained the situation.

Ercole listened with crossed arms and an annoyed expression, not sure why any of this was his problem. He jabbed a thumb in the direction of Harry.

"What about him?" he asked.

"We need a lookout," said Giulia innocently. She gave a quick wink.

Ercole must have understood. "Right, right," he said. "Let me get some real clothes on."

"We'll wait," Giulia promised.

"My new mom has called a tailor all the way from La Spezia to make me new clothes," said Harry proudly. "She told him it's a very special job."

"It's the same fellow she gets to make little jackets for her dogs," Ercole said, and went back indoors to change.

He returned a few minutes later, still running a comb through his hair, now carefully oiled into place. Alberto and Giulia urged him and Harry to stay quiet as they made their way back down to the piazza. There, a bit more caution was necessary - even aside from the whole kidnapping plot, it was too late in the evening for young people to be wandering around unaccompanied, and anybody who saw them was likely to insist they go straight home. They kept to the shadows as they crept out onto the pier and climbed into Ercole's boat.

Ercole went to start the motor, but Alberto put out an oar to block him.

"Too loud," Giulia said, shaking her head.

"Are you suggesting we paddle the entire way?" Ercole asked.

"No." She rolled her eyes. "Just far enough that nobody will hear the noise."

"Well, I'm not paddling." Ercole crossed his arms and stuck his large nose up in the air.

"Neither am I," said Harry, mimicking the gesture.

"You two wouldn't be any good at it anyway, with your noodly arms," Alberto sneered.

Ercole's eyes narrowed. "Are you calling me weak?"

"Yes," said Alberto.

"He sure is," said Harry, happy to cause chaos.

"I row the boat all the time for Massimo," Alberto said. "I'll get us there way faster than somebody who never even carries anything heavier than a basket of grapes."

"All right." Ercole reached for the oar. "Give me that."

"I thought you didn't want to." Alberto held it away.

"I said give it to me!"

"Basta, both of you!" hissed Giulia, brandishing her own oar threateningly. "You're going to make noise and then we'll get caught!" She sat down and put the oar in the lock. "Somebody better help me or we'll just go in circles."

Ercole snatched the oar from Alberto and sat down beside her. "I'm bigger than you," he told Alberto. "I can pull a stroke further." He turned around to start doing so.

Alberto smiled and sat back, hands behind his head.

They rowed out of the harbour into the gathering dark, and once they'd made it to where Giulia thought they'd be safe, she lit a lantern and let Ercole start the motor. Alberto pointed him in the direction of Luca's house. They rumbled off.

"You know, this is how Il Papa got Michelangelo to paint La Capella Sistina," Giulia told the boys. "He asked and asked and Michelangelo wouldn't do it, so the Popel said, fine, I hear you're no good at fresco anyway. Then Michelangelo had to do it, just to show him up."

"See?" Ercole asked Alberto. "It is a mark of greatness."

Alberto sneered at him, then sat up and pointed at the bottom of the boat. "Here! Right here! Stop here!"

Ercole turned the motor off and threw the anchor over. The boat came quickly to the end of the chain and dragged it a couple of metres, then began drifting in a circle over where the weight had landed. Giulia took charge.

"Okay, ragazzi," she said, cracking her knuckles. "Ercole, you get ready to start the engine and go the moment we're ready. Harry, you watch out for other boats. I'll look after Alberto." She turned to her foster-brother. "Go get Luca!"

"This was my plan," Alberto reminded her. "I know what I'm doing." He took his hat off and dived into the dark sea.

Giulia watched him vanish into the water, and kept a grip on the anchor chain, ready to pull it up fast. Hopefully they could get this done in a hurry, before Harry realized that they didn't really need both him and Ercole for the task. Ercole's hand was on the motor, ready to start it, and Harry himself peered towards the town, waiting and watching.

Alberto knew where Luca's house was. Sea monsters had an innate sense of the right direction to get to anywhere they'd been before - Luca and Giulia thought it had something to do with the earth being a giant magnet, but Alberto didn't care as long as it told him which way to swim. He soon saw the gentle pink glow of the bioluminescent jellyfish the sea monsters used to light their homes, and headed towards it.

He went around behind the barn so as not to disturb the goatfish, which might make a racket if they thought a predator was close. From there he darted to the base of the little tower where the family stored crops and tools, and rounded it to the place where it joined the body of the house. There was Luca's bedroom window. Alberto pulled himself up to the sill, and peered in.

Luca wasn't there.

Alberto's heart beat a little faster. Time, in the human sense of hours and schedules, was a concept he still had some trouble with but he knew they didn't have much of it. If they didn't make it to the last train to Genova tonight, they would have to go home, and then they'd be caught and everything would be ruined. He glanced back at the boat bobbing on the surface, silhouetted against the moonlit sky, then slithered in through the window like an eel.

Once inside, he could hear the voices. People in the next room were having an argument.

"We've been through this, Luca!" Daniela was saying. "The answer is no!"

"It doesn't sound like a safe place for children," Lorenzo agreed, resolute.

"Fine," said Luca, "but can I at least sleep in my own room, then?"

"No," said Daniela.

"You don't trust me!" Luca complained.

"Not when you're obviously trying to sneak away again, no, we don't!" Daniela informed him.

Luca didn't reply, and Alberto knew why - he couldn't argue with that. He'd slipped out of the house to run away to Portorosso last summer, and now he was planning on doing it again. Alberto wouldn't be able to do anything if Luca was forced to sleep in his parents' room, so he had to do something now.

He slipped back out the window and backed off a little ways. It was important that he be out of breath when he arrived .

Alberto aimed himself at the door, and swam as hard as he could. He came bursting in, trailing a current that knocked things off shelves and startled Lorenzo Paguro's show crabs, which began running around in a panic. Alberto himself tried to stop but plowed right into Daniela, who shrieked in surprise and dismay as they both crashed against the kitchen wall, knocking down the bundles of herbs she had tied to the ceiling.

"Alberto!" she exclaimed. "What under the waves..."

Alberto extracted himself from the tangle of limbs, tails, and seaweed, panting. His heart was hammering, not only because of the exertion but because of what he now needed to do. This wouldn't be the first time he'd lied and there was no way it would be the last, but it was going to have to be the greatest performance of his life. "Luca!" he called out. "Giulia's hurt!"

"What?" Luca asked. He grabbed Alberto's arm to pull him out of the mess.

"What?" echoed Daniela, gathering up the drifting herbs. "What happened?"

"We were up in the treehouse after you left, and one of the boards broke and she fell!" Alberto panted, hanging on tight to Luca's shirt. "Massimo's called the doctor and everything, come on!" He swam for the door, dragging his friend behind him.

"My crabs!" Lorenzo exclaimed, trying to herd them up.

"Wait for me!" Daniela protested as the boys fled. For a moment Alberto's stomach sank, thinking she would be right behind them, but then she yelped in pain as one of the crabs grabbed her tail fin. "Lorenzo! Control your crustaceans!"

"I'm trying!"

"Swim for your life!" Alberto whispered to Luca. He dashed ahead to tug the anchor chain, signalling to Giulia to reel it in before Luca's parents could see it. Seconds later, he burst out of the water with a splash that soaked both Ercole and Harry, and set the boat rocking violently as he landed inside.

"Porca paletta! Was that necessary?" asked Ercole, grabbing a mirror to check his hair.

Alberto didn't even bother to answer. He reached in the water to pull Luca up after him.

"Start the motor!" Giulia said. "Start the motor!" But Ercole was still looking at his reflection. Giulia pushed him out of the way and yanked on the chain herself.

The motor stalled.

"Come on! Come on!" Alberto urged. If Luca's parents caught up they were never going to get away.

On the second try, the motor coughed to like. Ercole snatched the throttle back from Giulia and turned them towards their agreed getaway location on shore. This was not the harbour where they'd come from, but another little quay directly below the train station. The boat sped along, skipping in and out of the water as it went.

Luca was only just starting to catch his breath. "Thanks, guys," he panted.

"Hey, I helped you run away from home once," said Alberto with a dismissive wave. "What's one more time?"

"It was my idea!" said Harry.

They pulled the boat up below the train station, and Luca, Alberto, and Giulia climbed out. Giulia counted the money to make sure they had all of it, and then the three of them turned to face Ercole and Harry.

"Thank you, Ercole," said Giulia, as if the words tasted bad.

"You might not be totally terrible," Alberto agreed, equally grudging.

Ercole sniffed - and then it was time. "Oh," he said, "I almost forgot." And he reached under the boat's seat and pulled out a net to throw over Harry. Alberto and Giulia jumped on him to tie him up. Harry yelped and struggled, but his many legs quickly got tangled, and Alberto stuffed a gag in his mouth. Ercole pulled out the second item he'd stashed in the boat ahead of time, a suitcase, and they stuffed Harry insite.

"So we are even, then," said Ercole cautiously, as the kids zipped the suitcase closed around the struggling monster. "I helped you kidnap Luca, you take that little bug away, and nobody owes anybody else anything, ever."

"Correct," said Giulia. "Nobody is allowed to call this in as a favour later. You two are our witnesses," she told the boys.

Luca and Alberto nodded seriously.

Ercole extended a hand. Giulia shook it.

"Now we go back to hating each other, Spewlia," said Ercole.

"Correto, Catfish."

Ercole started the engine and puttered off again, and Giulia and the boys set to work dragging the suitcase up the stairs. Harry was heavier than he looked and had to be tugged up each step individually, making a muffled yelp of protest with each bounce. The kids ignored this as best they could, and hoped the gag would hold. If he worked it free enough to shout, they would have a real problem.

At the top, they approached the ticket office. Alberto, the tallest, strutted up to the window and flashed a confident grin as he presented the man with their money. "Three children for Genova!" he said.

The clerk peered over his half-moon glasses at them. "Are you three travelling alone?"

"Yes," said Alberto.

The clerk was clearly skeptical. "Where are your parents?"

"They said we're old enough to do this ourselves," Alberto replied. Behind him, Luca and Giulia nodded eagerly.

"Do you mind if I call them?" the clerk asked. Like almost everybody else in Portorosso, he knew that Luca, Alberto, and Giulia were a unit - and that while well-meaning, they were good at getting into trouble.

"You know there's no phone at the Pescheria," Alberto told him.

"Don't worry. I'm right here," said Helena Marcovaldo.

The kids spun around. She'd been sitting in the waiting room with her own small bag, and they, intent on their own mission, had entirely missed her. The kids grouped closer together, but they knew it was no good. They were caught now and would be dragged back home. Luca would have to face the wrath of his parents, and heaven knew what everyone would think when they found out Harry was in the suitcase.

Helena came closer and leaned in to talk to them. "Did your parents change their minds, Luca?" she asked quietly.

"Yes," he whispered, but could not meet her eyes while he did so.

"I thought so," said Helena with a resigned nod. "This is extremely important to you, isn't it?"

"Yeah," Luca repeated.

Helena straightened up. "They're with me," she told the clerk. "They wanted to pay their own way, but if it's a problem, I'm here."

"It's no problem," the clerk said, relieved. "I just wanted to be sure they weren't up to any mischief." He took the money, and handed each of them a ticket. "Have a pleasant trip."

Luca breathed such a sigh that Alberto and Giulia grabbed his arms, afraid he would pass out from sheer relief.

The train pulled up a few minutes later, and the four of them boarded. Helena's suitcase went in the luggage rack above the window, and Harry's was pushed neatly under the seats. It thumped against the floorboards a couple of times as he struggled inside, earning a strange look from the conductor until Alberto started swinging his legs as if kicking in boredom. That seemed to be enough of an explanation, and the man moved on.

"I don't suppose your mother is ever going to forgive me," Helena remarked.

"Probably not," Luca agreed. "She's probably never going to forgive me, either. Maybe they'll even send me to the Deep after all." He shivered.

"You don't have to come if you don't want to," Giulia said.

"No, I gotta do this," Luca replied, determined. "Even if I do end up in the Deep. It's not fair to Louise. She got in so much trouble trying to help us."

"You know, a lot of things aren't fair," Helena told Luca.

"That's what Mom says," Luca said. "I say it's not fair and she goes, the world isn't fair, Luca. But just because the world's not fair doesn't mean I have to be."

Helena chuckled. "Your mother's lucky you're so quiet, Luca. If you wanted to be rebellious you'd be an absolute terror."

The train they'd caught had been the last to leave Portorosso that day, and it was very dark by the time they arrived, yawning, in Genova. There was no chance of sneaking into the museum tonight - their plan required them to start in daylight. Instead, they collected their things and went back to Helena's apartment

At some point during the train ride, Harry's suitcase had stopped twitching, as if the prisoner inside had fallen asleep. Luca was slightly worried that he might have suffocated, but when they dragged him down the steps to the platform, the bumping woke him up, and he began to make noise again. They hurried home and unzipped the suitcase on Helena's kitchen floor.

Immediately, Harry spat the gag out, and began yelling.

"This is unacceptable!" he declared. "When my father he... I mean, when my new mom hears about this... when either of them hears about this! They're gonna..."

"We don't care," said Alberto.

"You will care!" vowed Harry. "My father with ruin your lives! You'll never have work anywhere in Monstropolis! You'll never work anywhere! He'll buy that stupid fish shop out from under you and shut it down!"

"We don't live in Monstropolis," said Giulia.

"And Massimo wouldn't sell the Pescheria no matter how much money you gave him," Alberto said.

Harry sputtered and looked around for the nearest adult to back him up. "Are you condoning this behaviour?" he demanded of Helena.

"Apparently I am," she said. "If I weren't, I would have gotten them off the train or called their parents. Which reminds me." She looked at Giulia. "You, young lady, are not going through any closet doors. Luca and Alberto can hide in that world. You can't."

"I know, Mom," said Giulia.

"You can't stop her from coming! Not after you helped me and Luca!" Alberto protested.

"No, Mamma's right," Giulia told him. "Anyway, I gotta go back to Portorosso and find another kid with a monster in his closet, so we can give you a quick way back home. We'll catch the monster and prop the door open." She looked proud of this plan.

"Thanks, Giulia," said Luca. "That's a great idea."

"If I'm going to be a hostage, can I at least have something to eat?" Harry asked, annoyed.

"I think we all need a snack and a good night's sleep," Helena said. "Let's see what we've got."

She made them all sandwiches and cocoa, and then got out extra bedding so that Harry and Alberto would have places to sleep.

"I don't want to hear anybody screaming in the middle of the night," she added. "We don't need any more chaos. That goes for all little monsters, including the human ones." Helena looked straight at her daughter.

"Yes, Mamma," said Giulia dutifully.

"Si, Signora Marcovaldo," Luca and Alberto chorused.

Harry said nothing.

There was very little conversation as they settled down for bed. There was an unspoken agreement among Giulia and the boys that they would all lie down and shut their eyes right away, because they knew Harry would try something the moment he thought they were asleep. They wanted to catch him in the act.

Sure enough, the lights had been out only about twenty minutes when they heard the floorboards creek. Giulia reached over and turned on a lamp, and all three sat up to see Harry creeping towards the door.

"I am going to the bathroom," Harry said indignanly.

"We'd better show you where it is," Giulia said.

"I've been here before," Harry reminded her.

"Just in case," she said, glaring at him. Harry glared back with all five eyes.

Since Giulia was a girl, it was Luca and Alberto who had to get up and stumble down the hall with Harry to the bathroom. He shut and locked the door, and they waited outside through the sound of running water, followed by a series of thumps and mutterings.

"Is there a window in there?" asked Alberto.

"Yeah." Luca rubbed his eyes. "It doesn't open, though. The lock's been stuck for years."

Alberto nodded.

A few more minutes went by, then Harry opened the door again, annoyed but defeated. He did not speak to Luca or Alberto as they escorted him back to bed.

There was relative quiet after that. The three kids did their best to stay at least partially awake, one ear always listening for anything suspicious. They were all tired, though, and eventually they dropped off one by one. Alberto was first, and started snoring. Giulia pulled a pillow over her head to block him out, and was asleep shortly thereafter. Luca tried the hardest to keep his eyes open, but at last he, too, had to close them.

All three were abruptly awakened by the sound of shattering glass.

They sat up, blinking in the darkness. The kitchen clocked chimed for three in the morning, and floorboards creaked in the hall.

"Is everybody okay?" Helena asked, cracking the bedroom door open.

Giulia felt around for the lamp and turned it on, and looked around the room. Luca was in the other bed, rubbing his eyes. Alberto was sitting on the mattress they'd put on the floor for him. Harry was nowhere to be seen.

Suddenly wide awake, Giulia scrambled out of bed and past her mother to try the bathroom door. The boys, who'd come to the same conclusion a split second later, were right behind her, and all three cried out in dismay when they found the door was locked.

"Harry!" Giulia banged on it. "What are you doing?"

There was no reply. Giulia rattled the knob.

"Calm down. Here's the key." Helena reached up to take it down from the ledge above the door frame. She got it open, and the kids crowded around her to see what was going on in the bathroom.

The room was empty. The lights were out. The window was broken.

[jascurka]

Hey, I gotta say i've been a fan of yours for a few years, and you're an extremely talented artist! Your expressions and the soft way you color makes everything seem almost comforting in most of your work, and it's really cool to see!!

I guess i haven't been caught up in a while cause i haven't watched mob psycho in a bit but i noticed you've gotten into mobrei

I'm not here to harass you or yell at you and i am not expecting a response, but i gotta say i understand, when you age up characters it makes the power dynamic seem balanced and ok, i understand these are characters you love a lot and fanart and fancontent is probably a big source of comfort

But encouraging such an unhealthy power dynamics especially as someone with a larger audience you gotta understand is not ok It's not about the characters and it's not about how you view it, it's about us as people needing to show that these unhealthy dynamics are not ok

if you found out your minor little brother was dating an adult you would be worried about him, if you found out your little brother who is now of age was dating an adult who was very close to him when he was a minor you would be worried about him

I'm not upset because it's mob psycho or if it was any other characters i'm upset because you're portraying something borderline pedophilic as ok

I'm honestly a little dissapointed to see that you've sort of adapted proshipping beliefs, yk at least what i can say about myself is that i'm not against proshippers because i hate shipping and i don't believe love is love

I'm against proshipping because incest, pedophilia, and other dynamics that lead to assault and imbalanced power are not ok and we shouldn't be teaching people especially minors that they are

The more content there is normalizing abusive power dynamics the more people think thats ok, the more minors can normalize it, the more minors can think its ok to date a family member or an adult or just anybody who may hurt them because they were taught that love conquers all differences even when that love is between a 14 year old and a 25 year old or even 18 and 29

Again i'm not trying to hate on you i'm not trying to yell or anything like that i just really hope that you'll read through this and just think about it at least a little bit again this isn't about characters this is about real life

Here are some things you need to realize:

The main purpose of my art isn't to be educational about healthy relationships and it's not focused on portraying "the right thing" all the time.

I assume enough emotional intelligence in my audience to recognise that the ships that I in fact label as problematic already - are flawed and are not healthy to happen in real life.

I want to explore nuanced or taboo things in my art but I'm also a sucker for lovey-dovey feel-good stories and it's not your business to convince me to draw ships more how you want them just so kids on tumblr can have a good example of what abuse looks like.

I am not encouraging anyone to pursue relationships like these! Real life is much more complex than what a scribble on tumblr can reflect on anyway. The content I make of these ships is purely fictional and isn't safe to enact in the real world.

I don't appreciate you trying to bring my relatives into this argument, you're being insensitive bringing them up at all. Of course I don't want anyone, not just my family, to stay in an unhealthy relationship. I think most sane people on earth would be against that, no? Do you just assume I'm okay with horrible things happening to people around me because I like to draw unhealthy and toxic ships?

I didn't "adapt" proship beliefs recently. Not harassing people for their fictional ships and stories has always been very easy for me, even if their content makes me uncomfortable. I prefer to block things I don't want to see over acting entitled about what someone draws or writes.

I already state on my page that my blog has sensitive and mature topics and viewer discretion is advised. I could always draw the "worse" aspects of the relationship or more "abusive" side of the ship so you won't have to reach far below the surface to find the problematic side of it, but I get the feeling you don't want me to do that - you just want me to stop drawing a pairing you find icky. I can add an additional disclaimer in my profile if this all wasn't enough for you but I won't stop drawing them holding hands and blushing until I get bored of it.

EDIT: I do want to thank you for the compliments on my art however, I forgot to add it yesterday.

[drdemonprince]

Thank you for talking about the ills of isolation and withdrawing during a moment where we need collective action, whatever that may look like for each one of us.

I have been thinking a lot about how I want to belong to groups who are doing things I care about and what gets in the way of that goal. A huge difficulty I have as an autistic woman and a woc in a small town in a white majority country is that often even with people whose politics I broadly agree with, there is a lot of interpersonal unease and irritation to get through. This is probably sometimes as much my fault as theirs. But sometimes it's stuff like people openly rolling their eyes at my name (too foreign and hard apparently) or me finding some of the things they say awful (a queer rights group still being racist for example) or just finding people annoying to be around at times.

How do I show up in these spaces and create a community without burning out from annoyance/disappointment/the everyday alienation of it all? Surely moving to a big city cannot be a practical answer when it's not affordable? And surely there must be a way to be honest about my politics and stand up for myself and still be in halfway progressive spaces that are doing good work and are best options right now in terms of proximity and impact? My parents' answer (different generation, country, culture) was always keep your head down and stay out of difficult things like organizing. I am tired of living like that. But I also feel I am too angry and too unfit to deal with the everyday reality of what people are like to be able to part of movements. The alternative though is to having a panic attack while reading the news and sink into despair and helplessness which sucks. Am I missing an obvious way out here? As always, very grateful to you for your wisdom and clarity on living uncowered.

Thank you so much for your wonderful message and question. I am admittedly a little out of my depth in some ways in answering this, I feel, as a white person and a man who people don't tend to subject to the worst of the kind of treatment that you're speaking to. (What I do get is people thinking that expressing the prejudices will be acceptable to me, which I have the responsibility to shut down as often as humanly possible, so that spaces don't have a such a dogshit culture and alienate tons of people like you).

I think you do really have to look over your own bandwidth, and determine for you what is tolerable and what isn't. As a trans person, there are slightly "off" little comments that I'll accept from someone who isn't well versed in the topic, and differences in how elders talk and think about gender that I'll tolerate bemusedly, but if it ventures into any area that makes the space explicitly hostile to trans people who are more vulnerable than me, then it's something I need to fight about or I need to abandon the space.

For a woman of color like yourself, I think that kind of decision making is a lot more fraught, because frankly I never have to worry about anybody really escalating their bullshit with me too badly, and they'll want to forget it pretty quickly after the conflict even if I do challenge them.

(This propensity towards midwest nicey-ness / white person fake nicey-ness can sometimes be leveraged to win a battle or two -- when I have obviously, unquestionably shut down someone's ignorance or read them for filth diplomatically for making a really dumb point, often the other person's impulse is to backtrack and make nice or pretend that what they said never happened, while also never doing it again in my presence, and in plenty of situations, that's plenty good enough. I have seen this kind of maneuvering work for people of color too, especially in groups like churches, volunteer organizations, cultural affinity groups, and the like, where there is a strong bias towards everybody getting along...sometimes that awful cultural norm can be shifted to your advantage if you Make the Person Saying the Fucked Up Thing the Awkward One.)

I think a lot of what you'll have to do is discern between the groups where you can push back against the remarks and policies that are unacceptable to you but basically get along with well-enough intentioned people, and the groups where you will be singled out and treated poorly for speaking up or ever asserting yourself. It also really helps to befriend all the other people of color & neurodivergent people in the space early on into joining a group, so you have people to lean on and you can get their lay of the land.

I wish I had advice that was more targeted and immediately actionable, but I think a lot of this is a very subtle dance based on the community spaces you move within, your political goals, the people within the space, the norms within that space surrounding conflict, how many other poc are there, etc etc. You will probably have to try a couple of groups before you find one that is tolerable enough for you because a) the people arent That Fucked Up, and b) they can kind of handle conflict some of the time at least. Please don't be disheartened if things feel awkward or a few of your first tries have rancid vibes. You can also take steps to build the very community spaces that you want -- by reaching out to other people of color in the area and forming your own groups that can then partner with these kind of annoying white majority organizations. The autonomy is useful and may preserve some social and emotional spoons, but at the cost of having to do a lot of organizing work. So, tradeoffs.

Would love to hear in the comments from people of color who do organizing in non-urban areas and have to deal with a lot of white people nonsense.

[purity-in-heart]

[Please Read] I should not have to explain this

People, if you're going to chat with me, please, for the love of god, tell me your honest age. And don't lie, either, cause that's just worse in some ways.

Ok, so, I wound up chatting with somebody who I will not specify by as much as I can. We were having a cardiophile chat and we decided to take it to video so I can hear her heartbeat with a mic. Now, the thing is, I feel incredibly stupid right now. I mention wanting to see her chest, but only out of the expression of a wish cause I know a lot of people aren't always comfortable. To my surprise, she says yes and, her face, I won't give a single detail about especially of what made me tilt my head a bit but something made me think, 'wait, how old is this girl?' only to settle on the idea of, 'oh, maybe she's older than she looks', and for the love of god, I don't think that lightly, I had a reason to think that. Later she goes brb. She admits her parents caught her.

Jesus- alright, read carefully, yeah? I'm not gonna shift or place any full-on blame. At least by a little bit, this girl was the victim of being young and dumb, however she should not have done anything that would expose her identity or herself. And admittedly, I was stupid for not seeing the first potential sign. Don't ever even slightly think you could be wrong if it could mean the person on the other end is actually under 18. This girl never explicitly gave a sign or hint that she was underage, either, but that's not always a good excuse. Meanwhile, last I had a chat, I unintentionally made somebody uncomfortable as far as I can tell and I felt so guilty that I took a small break to sit on what I had made somebody feel. I finally get back into the swing of things with a new rule of only having a cardio-chat if somebody messages me first and this is what happens. I was really wrestling on how or even if I should post about this, but one thing I realized was that not saying a thing is probably worse.

I won't take another break for being just as foolish but I'm definitely gonna sit on this for a minute. I hate how it took me a minute to accept that she was a minor. I found myself thinking of every possible reason to tell me she was actually an adult at first, including if I should not think about it at all.

Again, for god's sake, be honest, responsible and tell your age first. I will not chat with minors. I will, however, post this under the risk that I'm not relaying my sincerity well enough (That's really one of my biggest fears when making a post like this, that I won't be able to verbally explain and show that I'm legit being serious and not trying to cover my own ass with a fake sense of remorse or something - but it's a fear we all have to face). I don't wanna look like a liar or like I'm shifting the blame or anything. But my final message in this post is about more than about taking responsibility for your actions and to tell me your real age before chatting with me or frankly, anybody: People who are growing up need to know that it's ok to explore and experiment, it's part of growing up, and of course it's fun - Hell, even I did it a little, I wasn't always an adult, you know, it's how I found the rest of my rhythm as a cardiophile - but Jesus H. Christ, we need to educate and teach them that there are lines to draw, like, don't chat with strangers - especially on anything sexual, be careful, make sure they know which lines not to cross or cross yet, and seriously: DO. NOT. SHOW. YOUR. FACE. The internet isn't the safest place yet. What's more important? How hard you drive the message home or what you relay and how you do it?

[astralartefact]

Right, I forgot to post something about Reincarnation ending for real yesterday, so. uhh. what pseudo-deep thing do I have to say about all of this...

Reincarnation is allowed to end and its contents are allowed to be ""inaccessible""* and everyone involved in its production knew it was going to end like this from the start even if they likely thought it wouldn't end quite this abruptly.

Yesterday Matsukawa literally said on Twitter that one of the first things Yoko Taro told him was to keep all the design work they did in consistent structures so they could easily publish them afterwards, they knew, they're not as stupid and helpless to corporate greed as some of you seem to think they are.

*heavy air quotes here because it's not inaccessible, there are at least three seperate fan projects documenting its content and even all of the in-game data has been publicly archived by fans - how much more accessible do you want an online game to be after it ends???

I know we love to complain about live services because that's a buzzword to do with capitalism (which is indeed bad) but like. It being inherently impermanent isn't what makes it bad. Theater plays are inherently impermanent and I have yet to see someone complain that Theaters still perform plays seasonally and then change what they're playing. What if I couldn't see Faust 1 last year and this year they're only playing Faust 2??? i dont think faust is a theatre play

Video Game Archiving is weird because yes, there's basically no downside to keeping something accessible forever aside from cost - and yet to me it has kind of started to become a little bit like hoarding in the fear that you might need it eventually. Like sure, why not store a video game in perpetuity if you could, someone in the future might want to look back on it after all - but like. Do you really need to be able to play a video game to do that, to understand what it tried to do and how it executed on its premise?

If nobody actually liked NieR Reincarnation's gameplay - which a lot of you complaining about it ending seem dedicated to point out any chance you get - then why keep it around as a game and not just as recordings or in writing? And whose responsibility is it to record that stuff? For the most part History wasn't recorded by those that made that history happen either. History can be recorded in writing, in photographs, in paintings,... so why can Video Games only be recorded as that Video Game?

I think these discussions are important to have and it sucks that it's always undercut by "Well but Corporations should do it, especially since they only don't do it because of money" - which is perfectly true and I agree with that, just for the record - and yet even in a better societal structure than Capitalism these problems would remain. If money wasn't an issue should every person ever posting anything on the Internet have to make sure it will always remain there for people that haven't seen it yet just because they could? Taken to the next step, are you allowed to remove something from the Internet if anybody finds it some amount of impactful?

The answer is pretty easy. If you care that much about it you will just have to record it yourself somehow - like a lot of Reincarnation's fans already did. And yes, video games have an interactive component that is now lost - but so what. If that was so important then write down what it meant to you! Make art that expresses what Reincarnation made you feel! All perfectly valid ways to record and experience history!!!

I feel like some of you people haven't had the pleasure of not being able to afford a certain video game console anywhere in the foreseeable future but knowing there's a game on there that you would love and so you decide to experience it through everything but playing the game itself. That game for me was Drakengard 3 on the Playstation 3 - and it was my favorite game of all time before I actually was able to play it 7 years later. And I think that's why I'm not particularly bothered by Reincarnation being taken offline, because I know you can appreciate it and everything it had to offer without actually playing it - because in Reincarnation's case a lot of people did the actual work of making it accessible online and that includes both fans and the devs for structuring their game in a way that makes it easy to do so.

But all I see is this weird insistance that Lore will be lost and that people won't be able to understand NieR 4 because they can't play NieR 3 to catch up on the Lore anymore even though

a) that hasn't been a thing for a single Yoko Taro game. The only time that ever happened is YoRHa:Dark Apocalypse and even there it didn't actually happen, people just fully misunderstood what part of the story was the actual A Plot and blamed them not understanding that on the Lore.

b) Reincarnation has maybe a handful Elements of concrete Lore and each of them can be summarized in 2 Sentences at most - case in point Noelle's RoD crystal is now part of the official timeline.

3) Drakengard's lore has never been explained once, not even in Drakengard itself, and yet a lot of people were able to love it and/or everything following in its wake - so clearly the lore is not that important, is it?

I also can't help but point out that 10H's story is literally about how she has to rewrite stories from her own memory of them because they keep being maliciously changed and that when she loses access to them completely the first thing she does is to recreate them and then she ends up giving them to someone else to experience (which ends up being herself but aah, technically somebody else)

Anyways, something completely different as a reward for reading all of this bs: Do we think Accord is a Player Insert? Is the Player Accord recording what they're experiencing for the "greater sake of Humanity"? We're always watching the Player Characters from a Third Person View - Who's to say that's not actually Accord's First Person View?

Has Accord been here the whole time?

[reorientation]

respect anon back again - to be honest i feel a little crazy because i still cant decide if i loved it or hated it. it was the hottest thing ever, but it also hurt, being denied any comfort. he told me to shut the fuck up and just take it, and it lit my brain up and i begged him to say it again, but also my heart was definitely breaking. i dont have feelings for him (im not a moron and i dont have time to have feelings for anybody rn) but in that moment i needed tenderness? i dont know. dont go to the hardware store for oranges, is what im taking away from this. and also i hope i wasnt so pathetic that he gets sick of me. because goddamn i want him to cover my mouth and call me a slut every time he fucks me from now on

(Previously)

Okay, let's take a step back here.

It sounds like you're playing pretty close to your limits - and yes, it's perfectly fine and normal to have limits about the mood of play as well as specific kinks or acts. It also sounds like he didn't give you much aftercare or check in with you about your emotional responses (which may or may not have been apparent; I have no way of knowing).

You're always within your rights to talk to someone domming you about your wants and needs. If they're a good dom, they should listen and take it into account. Or, at the very least, they should tell you if they're not going to be able to meet those needs and let you freely decide if you're okay with that. Worrying about being "so pathetic that he gets sick of me" is a flag for concerning relationship dynamics: it usually means you won't express your needs for fear that they'll be too much, which rarely ends happily.

And one more thing I want to point out: getting attached to someone isn't something you can just decide not to do, and it happening doesn't make you stupid even if the feelings are inconvenient or would be unwise to pursue.

This was a bit heavy of a response, but I do want to emphasize that the difference between mutually enjoyable power play and unhealthy relationships - even if it's just with fuckbuddies - is the open negotiation of desires, needs, and limits, and making sure that happens is important for everyone's well-being.

[usagiverse]

Hello, I totally love you art and designs.

The way the character sheets the expressions change when they show the body is just adorable, and that image of the princess! I'm like Leo! Do you have more designs like that?

By the way I also had that Yuichi's first name/surname debate, I loved your very complete answer.

And now my question I'm curious about Miyamoto and Yuichi's relationship in the image of the two of them together, Miyamoto looks kind of awkward, is it just my imagination?

Hi Nerish, thank you so much for the kind words and compliments! I think you're one of my earliest followers, so here's an official welcome to the blog!

By "designs like that" do you mean more references? I do not! I'm still planning on the story as it involves the already established characters, and they still have some time-period-specific designs that need to be officialized before I can finish their arcs. Other characters, as mentioned before, come in way later in the timeline. Our very first antagonist is one we already know, or at least, we have an idea of who / what. After that arc, we will see another antagonist, and that's where we can start seeing more characters & when I can post new designs. Unless you meant more designs like Princess Miya, in which... Yes, I do! I had a dream about someone posting Leochi art in a discord server, and Yuichi was wearing a uh..... playboy bunny outfit. At the time the dream happened, I thought it was stupid-- a rabbit in a sexy rabbit costume??? But then it got me thinking... first of all, to any NSFW artists out there, that's actually a genius idea, and secondly, I know how to turn a bad idea into a good one. Here are some concepts of a "Magical Girl" inspired AU of Shuji and Yuichi, whose powers are based on different types of flowers. I wanted to keep the same kind of Light VS. Dark theme, and this isn't an AU I will be actively pursuing, but it does exist out there now.

Shuji is based on a Balloon Flower, has a light, airy, and elegant kind of look, while Yuichi is based on a Himalayan Blue Poppy, and has a messy, rough, kind of luxurious feel to it. I like them, but they don't match each other. Most Magical Girl teams, I think, kind of look the same as each other, to signify they are a "team". This looks, well, not like that, lol. Also, couldn't decide if Yuichi should have an asymmetrical arm piece. Lots of strange design choices made here, but they're neat. Yuichi and Miyamoto... Well, I wanted to portray something between them in that image, but as you can see my art style was different then so the expressions are off, the posing is off, everything is... Off. I do think there is something there, though. Miyamoto is training under Yuichi to have the values of a Samurai, but he doesn't abide by them outside of the house. He believes house = safe, and outside = survival, much like Yuichi and Shuji do. Miyamoto is a Samurai at home, and a rogue outside, which is different than the twins who are Samurai all the time. Yuichi is older and wiser, but he has a kooky quality to him that makes Miyamoto question if he was right to train him. Imagine... you know your Uncle to be this funny, kind of hot-headed, stubborn, and even somewhat air-headed dum-dum that never takes anything seriously (from your POV). Then, the mask comes off and he is actually.. really, really strong. You knew that, but you didn't know he was willing to actually pin you against the wall, just to prove a point. It can be a little awkward to think that your Uncle is entirely capable of killing anybody including you, and he is training you to do the same thing. Miyamoto is by no means a pacifist, but he's a peacemaker. If he offers peace and the other side refuses, of course there will be war. But Miyamoto has never had to imagine that he needs to know how to do what Yuichi is training him for, and so, metamorphically, he puts down his sword and walks away from it all. It's a tough responsibility for him. He's not sure he wants to be a Samurai yet. And he has to face the fact that his strange, oddly chillax and really cool Uncle is trained to kill. So this stirs up his little angsty teenage phase, where he shows up to training late, leaves early, doesn't try as hard, and is often away from home. He loves his Uncle. They just gotta work it out is all.

[iamcautiouslyoptimistic]

Hi pookie!!! It’s ya girl. Two things, a statement and a question.

1) Your support means the world to me <3. You’re always liking my posts and sending in asks and I’m very grateful for your existence. If it weren’t for you, I probably would’ve stopped posting about my OCs. You indirectly helped me to stop worrying about notes, being cringe or annoying, and to post whatever I feel like! Thank you so much for being a kind person 💜

2) This is actually more like a series of questions (💀), so sorry if it’s too much!

How long did it take for Mason and Helina to ‘confess’/express their feelings for each other? Does anybody (besides Woods obviously) else in the safehouse know about their relationship? Who fessed up first? Assuming there were no obstacles between the two, what would their idea lives look together?

Answer as many as you want/feel like! No pressure 💜

Bro you're so sweet😭 I'm so happy that I've been able to do that for you and offer that sort of support! And I will continue to do so because I love seeing your OCs and how much thought you put into them🫶🏻 DON'T EVER STOP!!!!!

THOSE ARE SUCH GOOD QUESTIONS THAT I WILL GLADLY ANSWER!!! I don't have everything figured out just yet as some of their story is still in the works (mainly because I'm indecisive lol) SO I'll write out the thoughts I do have in regards to these questions, though they may be subject to change later on. Sorry this is long😵‍💫

Oh boy, I'd definitely say it took them awhile to finally tell each other how they felt. Helina's personality goes through some extreme changes as a result of the brainwashing so she becomes more reserved in certain ways, especially in regards to romance. It was never important to her until she met Mason so the genuine feelings he inspires are rather new to her. Mason also seems to be more mellow (I'm still familiarizing myself with his character, tho, so please tell me if I'm wrong), especially after the death of his wife. As a result, it would definitely be a slow-burn romance which would be hindered even more by the hunt for Perseus.

Mason was probably the first to confess. I can see him pursuing Helina more because she'd be distracted by her responsibilities to MACV-SOG. She'd find comfort in that sort of thing, especially if she was nervous about the blossoming feelings she has for Mason👀 As a result, he'd be the one making the first moves and pulling her out of her shell a bit until she was comfortable.

Besides Woods, I would say Adler and Park are also aware of Mason and Helina's affections for each other, considering they watch Bell closely throughout the game. Adler doesn't really approve since he knows who Helina was before joining MACV-SOG and knows that this new version of her is one he helped create. I like the idea that Mason and Woods would be unaware of the fact that Bell was brainwashed, explaining why they were friendlier than the others throughout the game (I could just be completely misinterpreting that tho lol). That whole revelation is something Helina and Mason have to work through together after the game.

In a perfect world, Helina and Mason would be a married couple with a nice house, a cute dog, and David as their son. The classic American dream life. However, with all the crap they've been through, that perfect life simply isn't possible for them😔

[rickie-the-storyteller]

How honest is your oc’s personality? Do they act how they feel, or do they tend to put up a front?

Hey, @aziz-reads!! Thanks for the ask, this is a really interesting question.

I guess it depends on which OC we're talking about... since they all kind of vary in that department.

Most of my OCs are very upfront about their feelings, especially my main ones. Some examples of this would be Mack (from my Five Seconds Flat story that I'm planning to put on Wattpad once I'm done with it), Zephyr (from my AU series), and most of my Steph's Crew characters (Bret especially).

However, I do like to have a good balance between the more upfront and expressive characters in my stories and the more subdued and less obvious ones. Gives some good contrast.

I think I'll use Steph's Crew again as an example...

This cast of characters is particularly interesting for me to discuss because the whole point of it is that they are all being their true selves... all of them but one. The main one. Stephanie. She's the only one in the group that is being "fake" and putting on a front so to speak.

There is still a lot of contrast regarding the way they act and the habits they have ect (e.g. Bret and Elise are sort of written to be complete polar opposites, and Bret is known for being the emotional, impulsive, "I do what I want, when I want" kind of person, so it is easy to see Elise as the exact opposite of that. And Elise is definitely more responsible, sensible and thoughtful than Bret is. But that doesn't necessarily mean that she's completely unemotional... she just handles her emotions differently).

They all range from being super emotional, to super chill (they all have emotionally intense moments throughout the story, though). Stephanie differs from the rest because she's kind of a wild card... she's an unreliable narrator (the main plotline of this story is that she believes she did something, but then someone else looks into it and finds out that her side of the story isn't accurate, so you spend the majority of the story wondering what really happened lol), and she has this dark past that she is actively trying to run away from. So she never truly lets people in or lets people see the real her. And she doesn't fully know how to handle relationships with people because of this...

She's also carefully crafted the persona she currently uses (due to tons of moving around and changing/adapting herself to all these changes to see what would fit best in each setting), so people only really know this one version of her. The surface level.

One of the main themes throughout Steph's Crew is that nobody knows the real her, and that she doesn't understand what true friendship is because of this. She's never 100% honest with anybody (not even herself), and she doesn't realise that this is what is preventing her from experiencing real happiness and fulfilment within both herself and her relationships with other people.

So yeah, that's basically it. I do have other examples of characters that put on a front, or are less obvious about their true thoughts and feelings (another good example of this would be Eurydice from AU... she also has a lot of trauma and demons in her past which greatly affect how she approaches life now), but Steph is my favourite "dishonest" character. Probably because of how much her dishonesty connects with her character arc. It's integral to her development (as well as the story as a whole).

[donnerpartyofone]

When I expressed my anxiety about how I need to get a job again, after frittering away my savings while doing higher-end hobbyistic writing that is public and vaguely pays (an extreme luxury to do this, I know), my dad's response was basically that I should just become a writer instead of going back to work. Of course I'm the biggest underachiever in my family and the only person who isn't published either through upper level academia or proper mass media, and all my life it feels like somebody has been saying to me "Why don't you just become awesome and famous" as if that's a career choice that has nothing to do with luck, charisma, and ability; as if I'm not sort of a mess with certain handicaps that no one else in the family shares. Unfortunately, this time my father had one piece of concrete advice that didn't just involve vaguely being special for a living, which is that my fancy brother is close friends with a successful editor at [redacted]. I do have at least one topic with potential mainstream appeal that I could pitch if someone tells me how the hell to do that, but the friend is, in my estimation, kind of a sociopath. One October he reached out to me about horror movies, and what I got out of that conversation is that he has no trouble digesting things like CANNIBAL HOLOCAUST full of real human abuse and animal torture, but he becomes angry if he sees anything with more challenging and inobvious intellectual content. The last time I saw him in person he was all agitated because he wanted to do a deal with Jordan Peterson, which a lot of his colleagues were scandalized by, and his only response was "It's gonna make money so what's the problem?" His interest in Jordan Peterson bothered me less than his weird, blank-faced ignorance of the fact that this might bother some people, his acting like that was a big surprise seemed to me to be really a bad sign. His wife is one of the more awful people I've met in person, one year she took up most of our Christmas dinner spewing some Sofia Coppola-type nonsense about the difficulties of being a beautiful poetess, before endlessly describing the sex practices of her polyamorous friends despite the many efforts of an elderly in-law to change the subject. Like anybody really needs to be thinking about all her buddies' played out dicks and pussies while we're trying to eat. Not that I would have to listen to her practice her needy, tacky self-marketing spiel if I worked with her shady husband, and it's not like I'm so naive that I think I can get around working with creeps in media industries, but it's harder to move forward when you know in advance how someone is specifically gross going in, it's not just an abstraction about the perils of business, it's That Guy. As usual my selective moral squeamishness is holding me back in life!

[dballzposting]

I have to confess. Whenever i am feeling very deeply self consious or afraid that a headcanon or a thought on media i have is getting Too out there or "Edgelordy" or even just reading too deep into something I go and look back at the tarble darvo post again and i feel a . Well serenity isnt quite how id put it but i genuinely mean when i say I aspire to your level of confidence in just putting completely off the walls stuff Out There and being aware its not gonna be everyones cup of tea and accepting that. You have majorly affected how i go about approaching media and stuff and while i dont know if its better for fandoms im in as a whole its better for me i think and thats what matters. I hope this is getting across right i mean this very positively. I think more people should have the audacity you have and i have GOT to internalize this

MY DEAR...

I was being all sleepy and small this morning and eventually I got on my phone and I saw this ask and it made me BOUND out of bed like the grandspa in the charlie chonka chocolate factory movie . Suddenly and conveniently rejuvenated.

I DIDN'T THINK THAT ANYBODY SAW THAT POST !??! But I don't know why I would think that becasue I just checked and it has 18 notes and even a reblog that isn't from me (from a user whom i appreciate tremendously and who interacts with my freakish posts when no one else does...)

SO GLAD THAT YOU SAW THAT POST & THAT IT IS HELPING YOU!!!

I agree with what you say. I LOVE HOW YOU'VE SAID IT. I also want to specifically add that it's important to have the freedom to express whatever is in your head. It's good to be self-aware that you're being "Edgelordy" if it means accepting how people will take it, but also, like, I would even advocate for acknowledging it as self-expression before you even give it judgement.

It's important to be OFF THE WALL CRAZZAY !!!

I don't mean to sound like I know what I'm talking about however ... I just make posts. I love to do it. And that's fine.

But yeah. I REALLY RESPECT & APPRECIATE what you're aspiring to be and I'm REALLY GLAD at how your thinking has changed thus far!!!

Go on ahead and internalize it. Audacity IS authenticity. Say what's in your beautiful mind <3

I don't want to come across all sanctimonious on dragonball blog but I can't help it it just comes so naturally to me so I'll keep going...

I understand feeling afraid & self-conscious and there are a lot of interesting things that can come from an exploration of those feelings. Sometimes it's best to stay quiet if you cannot with your better conscious justify a comment and feel safe with yourself after. But most of the time it's the fear of rejection that perpetuates conformity innit. And well that's no way to live. I promise that you're allowed to explore edgy ideas and that you're strong enough to withstand others' distaste. Because you are not required to heed a response that does not facilitate discussion or thought. Others' feelings are not your responsibility. And also plenty of people will like or respect what you say as well..!

Rules to live by: 1. Do whatever you want. 2. Be able to tolerate or protect yourself from others' doing whatever they want.

There is no meaningful discussion of art and life at large if one cannot discuss with an open mind and application of those principles starts HERE on dragon ball tumblr NOW!!!

It normally isn't my way to be so black/white assertive like that bc I think that all things have value but IDK I just wanted to make the strong point....

Thank you. I CANT SAY THAT ENOUGH!! This ask is so good. THANK YOU!! Good luck. And stay gorgeous <3

[beck-a-leck]

🧿what steps do you take to not take things personally if a fic doesn't do well, or if your writing/posting/sharing experience isn't going how you'd like it to?

For the writing ask meme. I'm always fascinated by people's definitions of "success" etc when it comes to fanfic (since mine is "I finished writing it")

Okay time to finally get around to answering this after working all weekend!

🧿what steps do you take to not take things personally if a fic doesn't do well, or if your writing/posting/sharing experience isn't going how you'd like it to?

Okay this is a really complicated answer and I'm not sure if i quite have the words to put this the way I want, so a lot of things about this might sound contradictory and I'm definitely going to ramble. But considering feelings are complex and often contradictory, I suppose that's to be expected.

The tl;dr is: I write for myself. I know I can't control other people. I don't let other people dictate my happiness. Share with low to no expectations, always be pleasantly surprised.

I think first and foremost, to not take things personally, I have learned over the years and through much experience, to divorce my sense of self-worth and accomplishment and overall happiness with Other People's Opinions. It's long been a mantra of mine to not let other people dictate my happiness, and that most certainly includes sharing creative projects in online spaces.

It has been a long learning process, and something I still regularly have to remind myself of, to separate my joy/fun/accomplishment/pride/enthusiasm and all of the other wonderfully positive feelings of creating something from how Other People respond to it. That's not to say I never feel disappointment and even sadness when something I thought might do better doesn't get the response and reactions I want. When I catch myself thinking that way, I acknowledge the disappointment, but then I remind myself of what I personally got from working on whatever it was.

Things like: I had fun making it. I got to learn something new. I tried out a new ship or trope, or perhaps revisited a favorite. I set a goal and accomplished it. I got to get the ideas in my head out onto paper and shared with the world.

Most simply put: I wrote for myself, and I like the end product, and that is Good Enough. Everything that comes after (comments, kudos, hits, chatting with people about it, etc) is just bonus.

(With obvious exceptions for requests/gift exchanges) For me, writing, or any creative hobby, can be a very selfish endeavor, because I'm writing the stories I want to read. I'm writing stories for my own entertainment. And yes, as contradictory as it may seem, I'm sharing stories because I also want to see how other people respond to them. I'm sharing because I want to feel good, and engage in a fandom community, and get that every so lovely hit of dopamine every time I see someone has interacted with my thing. But I do so always with the awareness that I am my first and most important audience. Again, everyone else is just Bonus.

And when it comes to the actual sharing process of writing, I try to keep in mind that I cannot control anybody else. I can't make people read my fics, I can't make them give me kudos, I can't make them leave a comment, or bookmark my fic, or come to my tumblr and say nice things. And everybody has so many different ways of expressing their opinions for something, that I can't even guarantee something as simple as a Kudos means the same to me as it does to them.

(I don't think Empathy is the right word I'm looking for, but it's the only one coming to mind, so...) but I always try to engage any disappoint I might have with Empathy and Logic for whatever idea of a Reader who might come across my story I have in my head. I'm fully aware that my story (and literally every story ever told) is not going to be for everybody, and therefore, not every person who sees it is going to have a positive (or any) reaction to it. For any number of reasons, they looked at my story and said 'no this isn't for me' and I cannot be mad or disappointed about that because I do the exact same thing. They might even click onto the story, read a good portion of it or all of it, get to the end and say 'actually, I didn't like this' and move on. Or hell, maybe they did like the story, maybe they loved it, but they didn't have the time/internet connection/mental or emotional energy/courage to leave a comment or hit the kudos or make a bookmark and that's okay too. Again, I cannot say I have not done the same thing. (and I have a much longer, more rambling rant about Obligations in Fandom, but we won't get into that here)

I always try to keep in mind that no matter what, any interaction is still one real life human being who saw something I did, and I try to put that into perspective. A fic only having a dozen hits can be disappointing, but at the same time, that's twelve whole people I can imagine standing in front of me and reading something I wrote. Which is actually a lot of people!

And because you brought up the measure of success, which is what this question is sort of getting at without saying the word... I don't know, I guess I don't tend to apply ideas of Success to my hobbies. At least not in the way of "Either it is a Success or it's a Failure." Writing is my hobby, and my hobby is supposed to be fun, not something I do for a grade or in competition. So I don't really think of it in that way.

I think in some way it circles back to Writing for Myself.

There's a part of me that is very at peace with the knowledge that if I never shared any of my stories from this day onward, I would still be happy writing. My writing folder is chock full of half-written stories that I likely won't finish, or ideas I had that only got to being a few hundred words of disconnected scenes and bits of dialogue, and even some stories that are 90% done, but I lost interest in the project and never finished it. But I don't look at those incomplete stories as failures, or even just on a very slow road to success. They served whatever purpose I needed them for, when I had an idea buzzing around my head, someday I might go back and finish them up and share them, but it's just as likely that they'll stay as they are, with only me to look at them.

I try to remove any pressures for myself when it comes to writing, because that is how it works best for me. When things become too pressing and guilt-laden, they stop being fun, I begin to feel burnt out, and when I don't have fun writing, I just don't write. It's my hobby, it's supposed to be fun, and when it stops being fun, then I know it's time to take a break. And, for me personally, setting arbitrary rules or deadlines, and adding unnecessary pressure is one of the fastest ways to kill the fun.