#wow totally forgot to post this this month

[oldinterneticons]

Top icons posted to @oldinterneticons in February 2024

[a-kaash-me-outside]

˚₊‧ ᴡɪʟʟ ɪᴛ ʙᴇ ᴄᴀsᴜᴀʟ ɴᴏᴡ? ‧₊˚

♡ ft. geto, toji, gojo, higuruma, nanami ♡ total wc: 10.9k // nsfw minors dni! // ♡ contents: ౨ৎ 𝑎 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑢𝑡𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 ౨ৎ, afab reader she/her pronouns, no smut in gojos or tojis im sorry, emotionally stunted men kinda but they grow isnt that nice (not talking abt higuruma and nanami god no), the aftermath of fwb caught feelings, consolation, emotional aftercare ig, lotta domestic fluff for higuruma and nanami's!!!! (everyone say ty @noosayog for nanami's bc she is the only reason i wrote his) ♡ listen along: casual by chappell roan ♡

- ᡣ𐭩 time passes and people change, and just because you fell first doesn't mean you don't get a happy ending + bonus continuation of higuruma's and nanami's ᡣ𐭩 -

ᯓᡣ𐭩 ɢᴇᴛᴏ [ 3 ʏᴇᴀʀs ]

on the list of people that you thought you’d see tonight, geto isn’t even in the top 100, not because of probability or likelihood, but solely based on the fact that you have not thought about this man in years. if you were asked the question from your future self, “holy shit, guess who we saw tonight?” you would’ve listed old friends, distant relatives, exes, minor celebrities, other flings, teachers from high school, people from stories you’ve only heard of, and then geto. 

after that night, you really didn’t see barely any of him. a few posts on your feed: one 2 weeks after and another 2 months after that one when you remembered that you forgot to unfollow him. once on campus: him across a million tables getting lunch with some girl too long after your little thing for you to care about who she was to him at all. once at a mutual (though you didn’t know was mutual at the time) friend’s party close to graduation: you ran into him grabbing a drink from the cooler and neither of you said a single word to each other, just exchanged a very knowing glance.

fast forward a handful of years, with geto not on your mind during a single one of them, and you’re stunned, nearly speechless, as you recognize him across the bar. the track of which your mind is racing takes you stop after stop to thoughts and feelings you didn’t really ask to experience. they follow a curving roadmap in your mind of: why is he here? ↝ wow, he looks great ↝ does he live nearby still? ↝ that’s weird ↝ no, it isn’t weird, i still live here ↝ then what are the fucking chances that he’s here ↝ no, seriously he looks so good

he looks different though, you realize about 3 minutes into sneaking glances in his direction, in some way that you just can’t put your finger on right now. in your slightly tipsy state, you barely stop to ask yourself how you even clocked that it was him so quickly, how there was no hesitance in the recognition or questioning in the placing. he looks really fucking good.

in fact, now that all of the obligatory thoughts have come to a heed, that’s really the only thing that you can think about. how good he looks.

the events that happened that ended your situationship all of those years ago are nothing but outlines now; whatever you said or he said just sounds like underwater conversations. you can see the way that you left and you remember being dumbfounded, but everything else has lost its sting, like a story you’d recall to a friend of a friend in a setting much like the one you’re in. time has handled the memory the way that time does and as a result, when the two of you finally make eye contact after what feels like an hour of missed mutual glances, you offer a small wave. a wave that says, “i remember only knowing you in past tense. we are such different people now, i wonder what it would’ve been like if we met now instead.”

the wave was the first step, technically, sure, but he makes the literal first step. he departs from the conversation he’s been enthralled with for as long as you’ve been stealing glances and he weaves between people in the middle of their own stories before ending up in front of you. 

when he does, he asks, as if he’s just randomly bumped into you rather than intentionally coming over, “shit… is that you?” he puts his hand on the back of your chair, thumb brushing your shoulder.

the friend that you’re with cocks their head, furrows their eyebrows, has no idea who this is or their connection to you, the timelines of their interactions with you spaced too far apart for one to know the other. geto notices this look, addresses it. “we used to…,” he pauses, “see each other? for a little bit.”

you can’t help the laugh that bubbles up from your chest at the way he describes it. “yes, yes we did,” you nod. “back in college,” you explain a little further, “been a while.”

the interaction quiets, the two of you exchanging soft smiles instead of words, and your friend knows where this thing is going before either of you even do, so they bow their head, offer their seat to geto, and take their leave in the name of some bullshit excuse. he takes it without a second thought, asking you how you’ve been, laughing about the time that you saw each other at that party, and after an hour of just talking he says, “yeah, i actually thought about you the other day.”

you nearly choke on the drink he’s bought you. you rush to put it down. “you did?” you ask.

he nods. “i don’t even remember what prompted it. i think, maybe, i saw a photo of myself from college and how different i looked and how different i feel now and then just, out of nowhere, remembered how shitty i was to you.” 

you don’t say anything in return, running your finger around the lip of your glass as you stare at him. you don’t know how to say that you don’t care anymore, that you haven’t thought of those days in years, that the surprise that you displayed a few seconds ago was completely genuine, because you were so convinced that neither of you had. it comes out something like a shrug and, “we were practically kids.”

he answers so quickly, “well, kids or not, i’m sorry.”

you laugh, gently so he won’t think you’re laughing at his apology. really, you’re laughing at the notion of apologizing for an act that no longer warrants forgiveness. you laugh at the thought of giving it anyways. you place your hand on top of his on the edge of the bar. “thank you,” you nod. he nods back. 

when you let him take you back to his place for old times sake, you’re half-expecting the same person from the ghosts of memories from years ago, like all of the things he said at the bar were just a last ditch effort to usher the night in the exact direction that it’s heading in. 

but he’s different now, just like he said he was before he apologized, and you can feel it in his movements and his actions. more confident, more intentional. he kisses you first and it doesn’t taste selfish. it doesn’t feel rushed to get to the main event. he savors it, holds your head in his hands, and doesn’t touch a single other inch of your body until he’s found the right combination of fingertip pressure and tongue that has you melting into his palm.

your mind flickers to the notion that these actions might be pre planned because they feel so meticulous and thought out, but that impression quickly dissolves when he sinks inside of you, slowly, keeping his eyes locked on yours as he does, his hand reaching down to cup your cheek, fingers nearly trembling against your jaw when he presses his hips completely against the insides of your thighs. 

“shit,” he hisses, hands moving down to your waist, fingers light like feathers practically crawling against your skin, as if each print was so grateful it got to make contact with the softness below. when he grips into the fat of your hips, he’s careful, intentional or not, pressing his thumbs into the bone, but not letting his nails leave a single mark. it’s pressured, but comfortable. 

he holds you in place, slowly pulling his hips back and he can’t help but look down between your legs, watching himself disappear inside of you, a creamy mess at the base, shallow breaths recycled in his chest. 

“hey,” you say, eyes locked on the tenseness of his jaw and the way that he stops himself with sharp inhales. he finds your gaze in a second. “don’t hold out on me here.” you rest your arm on his bicep, fingers curling around wherever they can reach.

you can feel it under your palm, his muscle tensing as his pace picks up, rhythm consistent, but unrelenting. the breaths come out of you quickly and you’re unable to hold any sort of facade. “ah- shit, f-fuck,” you cry, “holy shit.” you squeeze your eyes shut, swallowing harshly as strangled noises leave you without vetting a single one.

“n-no,” you shake your head, regretting it instantly as he slows down in response. you shake your head harder, “no, don’t stop, but- ah,” you groan, “your- you were- i meant,” you exhale a laugh, “let me hear you.”

his eyes widen slightly as he processes what you want from him, and then he listens. he leans down to kiss your lips and then your cheek and then your jaw and then your ear. yes, he’s fucking you better than you’ve ever been fucked in your entire life, but that’s not what makes you crumble. no, it’s his grunts and pants and breathy groans pressed right up against your skin. 

you thread your fingers into his hair, twirling the ends of the locks between the tips, raking your nails down the base of his neck to the front, and then smoothing them down his chest. “more,” you mumble against him, and you’re not sure exactly what you mean, but he gives it to you, whatever it is. you’re certain he’d give you anything in the world right now if you just asked for it.

there’s a moment after when you’re lying there with him, shoulder pressed up against his, chest heaving, barely recovered, that you find yourself back in that college dorm. you don’t know why the tightness is rising in the hollow below your sternum, but it is. you remind yourself that you weren’t expecting anything from this anyway, so it doesn’t matter, but it does. you’re not sure if you just don’t want to be treated like that again or if it has something to do with geto being the one lying beside you. 

when you turn your head to face him, he’s already looking at you. he doesn’t shy away in embarrassment, like it’s wrong that he’d be gazing at you after all of that. his features are steady, confident, strong. he smiles softly, brings his hand up to cup your cheek. “should we get breakfast in the morning?”

in the morning, you repeat in your head. you wait a beat, trying to come up with something to say, to proceed with caution or to discern his intentions or to at least not sound desperate, but all that comes out is, “in the morning?” 

he nods, turning on his side so he can stare at you without his neck getting sore. he inches closer to you, kissing the top of your shoulder and then your temple. he drapes his arm over your stomach. “if that’s okay with you,” he says and then kisses you again.

“okay,” you nod back, lazy smile on your lips, eyelids heavy at the warmth surrounding you now as he pulls you closer to him. “yeah, sure,” you affirm, voice so soft and airy that the tightness in your chest is lifted away with the words, all that’s left is a hope you feel comfortable letting stick around.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 ᴛᴏᴊɪ [ 3 ᴍᴏɴᴛʜs ]

you are not expecting anyone. you have resigned yourself to a nice pair of pajamas and comfy socks and a warm cup of tea and a spot in the living room that you will only leave for a refill and bathroom breaks. you are tucked into the corner of your couch, back pressed up against the sturdy arm, legs crossed, and a throw blanket over your lap.

you are not expecting anyone, so the sound at the door should have felt a lot more jarring. well, it is jarring for a second, a few seconds actually, the echoing disruption bouncing off of the walls of your living room and back to you, but then the noises repeat themselves, like they’re on a looping track, and you realize that-

you know that knock. heavy-handed with a tight fist, back of the knuckles, not the tops. almost pittering out by the end of the three successions, like the first one is direct and assured, but the second and third don’t really bother keeping up. that knock almost makes you run to the door. if it were 3 months ago, you’d be skipping to the door. 

but you hesitate for a few reasons. firstly because when the connection hits that you know that knock very well, you remind yourself to proceed with caution. secondly because it sounds the same but with a difference as small as a hairline fracture. you heard that knock far too many times during the span of a year and a half, and this one sounds almost completely identical, but there’s a half second pause between the first knock and the second knock and the raps feel less impatient. 

you don’t have to look through the peephole to know who’s standing on the other side of the door, but you’re glad you do anyway. if for nothing else, it gives you a slight edge, you’re convinced, like you’ve seen him first, you have the upperhand now. at least, that’s what you tell yourself. 

toji hadn’t contacted you since he left that day. no texts. no calls. no showing up at your apartment at 3 am. nothing. you kept telling yourself that you’d hear from him. when that didn’t happen, you started telling yourself that you didn’t care if you heard from him. you’ve actually been waiting for this moment, replaying what it would look like if he came back, the things you’d say to him and how you’d say them.

now, looking out at him just standing there, you’re frozen. every scenario you’ve replayed in your head, all of the emotional venting and blow out screaming that you’ve rehearsed and you can’t recall a single scene. you think about leaving him out there, about telling him to go away through the door or just pretending like you’re not home.

“i can see the shadow of your feet under the door,” toji calls out, muffled by the barrier between you guys, and yet it still rings out through your entire body. 

you slowly open the door. though, even if it took an entire hour to open the door, you’re not sure it would’ve mattered. you don’t think time is something that could’ve prepared you for seeing him. seeing him didn’t even prepare you for seeing him. you don’t know what to say, so you don’t say anything, folding your arms over your chest. you just wait. 

“i-,” he starts, but then immediately stops, half sighs/half scoffs as he leans his chest forward, eyes scanning the inside of your apartment, for what exactly you’re not sure. 

“what, toji?” you ask, voice stronger- and more annoyed- than you anticipate it being. you’re grateful for that. “why are you here?”

“shit, this is already hard enough for me t-,” he says, shaking his head, corner of his mouth tugging upward in frustration. 

you narrow your eyes, cutting him off, “sorry, this is hard for you?” you feel like laughing or strangling him more than you do crying, which is a desired outcome in this situation, you suppose. “you know that you haven’t talked to me in three months, right? you haven’t talked to me?” you ask, and you can feel your pulse in your wrist and your chest now, because the lines are coming back to you slowly, one by one, circling your brain, fueling your confidence. 

“yeah, no, of course i know that,” he combats, like you’re the one that’s being an asshole right now. 

you smooth your fingertips against your eyes, blocking the sight of him out for just a second before gesturing with your hand as you ask, “are you going to answer my question or…?”

“look, i said that this is hard enough as it is for me to just be here,” he snaps, and if you were a little less annoyed, if he hadn’t come at this whole thing exactly how he was, you might’ve clocked the desperation in his voice or the uncertainty in his pupils. 

“do you know how fucking stupid you sound right now?” you ask. it’s a rhetorical question. 

one week after he left, you were certain he was going to come back. you and toji had gone a week without seeing each other or even speaking. you had even gone two weeks. sure, the conversation felt much more serious and, sure, really deep down you knew this time was different, but still, you held out dumb hope. 

one month after he left and you realized this was not just him being weird and distant. this was something brand new that you had never had to deal with before. you were still trying to figure out how to navigate it when the two month realization hit: that maybe he wasn’t coming back at all, ever, maybe you had done something wrong. if he had shown back up on your doorstep during that time this conversation would’ve gone very differently you think. 

but he didn’t. he showed up at month three when your reaction to random memories of toji were no longer tears and guilt, but laughter and bitterness. there weren’t many things that toji could say right now that would warrant anything more than you standing in your doorway for 4 minutes or less. 

“i-,” he starts, but then sighs. he looks left, down the hallway of your building, eyes shifting from object to object out of your view. 

“please don’t waste anymore of my time,” you reply and it’s softer than you intend. you thought it’d come out angrier. that seems like a theme for you tonight: everything sounding different in your head. when he doesn’t reply, you start a countdown, promising yourself that when you make it to 15, you’ll close the door in his face. you only make it to 13.

“i’m not here to waste your time,” he says, with no air of disgust or annoyance, the first halfway decent thing he’s said to you tonight. “i-,” he huffs again, “i’m here to say sorry. and-,” he hesitates. 

you wait, just listening. the longer that he hesitates, the more time you have to think about what he might say and how you’re standing with your door open for the entire floor to hear your conversation. you’re not sure what’s worse, having this conversation in the confines of familiar grounds or the openness of neutrality.

“and ask… are you already seeing someone else?” he finishes. 

you’re dumbfounded, blinking at him slowly before responding in the only way you can think of right now, “goodnight, toji.” you shake your head, cursing yourself for expecting anything more.

“no,” he rushes to say and then stumbles over the rest, “i- i tried to see somebody else, quite a bit of other people actually…”

you scoff, squinting at him, saying more sternly this time, with an added attestation of closing the door in his face, “goodnight, toji.”

he reaches out with a quick reflex, grabbing the door before you’ve barely even moved it. “wait, no, i- fuck,” he mutters, scrambling, “can i just come in?”

“so that was your plan then?” you drop your hand from the door. “to come back here unannounced, be shitty to me, ask if i’m sleeping with anyone, tell me that you’ve slept with lots of people, and then ask if you can come inside?” you ask.

“i didn’t have a plan-,” he replies.

“clearly,” you interject.

“but i’m trying,” he finishes, and you’re waiting for there to be more, to explain exactly how this constitutes as trying, because you don’t really see that here.

“fucking christ, toji, you’re going to have to try harder than whatever the fuck this is,” you sneer. 

“we- we had a good thing,” he tries again. you don’t understand how every time he opens his mouth it gets worse and worse. why are you even entertaining this anymore?

“fuck you, man,” you scoff, and it feels like all of the anger has left your body, and in the void where it once was present is nothing but disinterest. 

“no, not like that,” he backpedals. maybe if he would say more than four words at a time, or four better words at a time, then you wouldn’t have to keep filling in the blanks or being pissed off or- “for the last six months of our relationship, i didn’t sleep with anyone else,” he admits like it’s the answer to all of your problems. the word relationship burns at the forefront of your mind so hard that you don’t realize what he’s said for 10 whole seconds.

“i, so what?” your voice is unconvincing even to your own ears. you had slept with other people even 2 months before that last day. that wasn’t the issue. you guys were allowed to sleep with other people. you had an explicit conversation about the fact that you could sleep with other people, something along the lines of, hey, we can see other people right? yeah, we’re not fucking dating. okay, just checking.

the so what, you had already answered for yourself, inner voice replying to your own question, screaming, you guys were exclusive, unknowingly to each other, for 2 whole months before you confessed and he left. 

his answer is much different. he says, “so nothing really. i just- i needed you to know that.”

“well, what the fuck do you want me to do with that?” you ask, and it comes out bitter and discouraged, but what you really mean is, please tell me what you want, please, can you just tell me that you missed me. 

“whatever you want,” he answers instead.

you take a deep breath, a million emotions coursing through your veins and up your throat. “you know what?” you say, and it doesn’t sound angry, it sounds playful, “no, seriously,” you smile and then you laugh, “fuck you, toji.” you close your mouth like you’re done talking, like that’s all you needed to say, but your heart disagrees, forces more words out into the air no matter how hard your jaw is clenched shut.

“you show up here and you’re an asshole and then you’re decent and then you say shit like that and then- then i ask you what you fucking want from this, what you’re trying to play at here and you tell me whatever i want?” you say, exasperated. 

“what i wanted was for you not to leave me three fucking months ago. that’s what i wanted,” you spit, “i wanted you to tell me this shit three fucking months ago before i sat alone, by myself, sad and then angry, and the entire time, fucking missing you, you fucking asshole. that’s what i wanted.”

and then it’s there, out in the open, airing for the two of you to witness and to face, and no matter what happens, you know you’ve done everything and said everything that you’ve needed to. he’s quiet for a few moments and you let him be, not tapping your foot or rolling your eyes or being pissed off, but just letting it play out. if this is the last time you ever see toji, why not just let it play out?

“okay,” he says, and it’s soft in a way you’ve only ever heard from him one time in your entire relationship. “i’m sorry.” he pauses. “i really don’t know how to do this,” he admits and you believe him. it feels different from when he told you something along those lines earlier, but you have a feeling that this is what he was trying to say all along. 

“do what?” you push, because your mind is making assumptions, but if he’s going to prove anything to you, he needs to start now. 

“ask for forgiveness?” he says, like he’s thinking out loud, “apologize? date someone?” you don’t say anything. you’re looking for something more concrete than that. it takes a handful of uncomfortable seconds before he says, “actually care about someone.”

“and do you?” you ask.

his lips press into a thin line, his eyes shift from left to right again. you can feel him getting antsy with the conversation and he’s barely said one vulnerable thing. you look at him, eyes soft and pleading, silently begging him that if he’s grown from this, you’ll let him back in, you swear, but you’ve been hurt before and you know what you’re worth, so you’re going to need some sort of evidence as collateral. “yeah,” he mumbles, but it’s audible. “you,” he says like it isn’t obvious, and it’s quiet and daunted, but you really appreciate the effort.

“okay,” you say, and that’s all you say.

“okay?” he questions, confused. “that’s it?” 

“yup,” you say, but your small smile and the fact that you’re not slamming the door in his face again gives away a bit more than that. 

“can i… come in?” he asks, hesitant, like he’s still being tested.

you shake your head, hand gripped onto the edge of the door. “no,” you say, scrunching up your nose and furrowing your eyebrows. “because if you come in here, we’re going to have sex,” you admit, half because it’s the truth and half just to see the look on his face. (it’s worth it.)

“wait,” he says, placing his palm flat against your door, but not moving it. his hand is now inside of your apartment, the only part of his body that’s made it past this invisible barrier of hallway and your place. “that sounds like a great thing. why am i not allowed in?”

“because this is me having self-control,” you explain, placing a hand on his shoulder and pushing the small portion of him that’s crossed the division back into the hallway. when you feel his skin against your pinky, soft fabric of that familiar shirt underneath your palm, you almost make a fool of yourself right after you say the word self-control, but you remind yourself what’s at stake here, what you really want. 

“i came all the way out here to see you-,” he starts, but he doesn’t make a move to replace his hand on your door, letting his arm fall back to his side. it’s for the better, too, because you’re not sure how much more self-control you have already, no matter how much you tell yourself about longevity and whatever. 

“if you really care,” you interrupt him, using his few vulnerable words against him, “and you weren't just trying to sleep with me tonight,” you pause, letting those words sink in, “you will go home and you will call me tomorrow morning and we will get breakfast- the least sexy meal of them all- and then maybe coffee if i enjoy hanging out with you outside of just having sex with you, and then we will go from there.”

“i-,” he starts to protest, but you cock your head. the truth is, if he said another word, reached out and touched your cheek or your hip or really anywhere on your body, if he kissed you, or just walked inside of your apartment and sat down on your couch, you wouldn’t have stopped him. you might even have gotten breakfast with him anyways. he doesn’t know that, you don’t think, but even if he does, he doesn’t act on it. he bows his head slightly, conceding, and says, “okay. i will just… talk to you… tomorrow… then.”

you nod. “goodnight, toji,” you say, hand on the door, closing it as slowly as you opened it. 

“uh, yea, night,” he says back. you won’t tell anyone, and neither will he, about the stupidest small smile you see on his lips as he leaves your apartment that night or the fact that he wakes up extra early the next morning, muttering under his breath about how ridiculous dating is before he calls you at 9:30 on the dot.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 ɢᴏᴊᴏ [ 3 ᴡᴇᴇᴋs ]

being away from ɢᴏᴊᴏ feels like detoxing. not from like hard drugs or alcohol, but… coffee. 

like you know it’s not necessarily good for you, drinking it every day, but it’s a habit you’ve had for a while now and you just can’t seem to break it. it’s not really hurting anything in your day-to-day and you’ve been doing it for so long that it’s probably fine to just keep doing it.

but out of nowhere it hits you that maybe drinking coffee as much as you do is a waste of money and even if you don’t feel the negative effects constantly in your daily routine, you remind yourself of the times where you could distinctly feel the thump of your heart and the unsteady of your hands. you recall the time that you stayed up all night for the promise of a cup of coffee to get you through the day. in every memory that you’ve ever had in your entire college career, you’re holding a cup of coffee.

so one day you make the choice to stop. you stop buying coffee from coffee shops and pods for your coffee maker and cups from diners and accepting free ones from friends. you don’t really need a good cup of coffee as badly as you think you do. and it’s stupid, you think, because it’s just coffee. it doesn’t mean anything. just because you’ve been drinking it consistently for quite awhile doesn’t mean it has any sort of hold over you. it’s just coffee. 

but then the headaches come and the irritation sets in and nights are hard, but for some reason mornings are unbearable, and you feel antsy all the time and you haven’t left your room in the past three days and the only thing you want is a cup of fucking coffee and you can’t relapse with coffee; it’s fucking coffee. 

yeah, being away from gojo feels a lot like detoxing from coffee. 

you try to just not see him. it’ll be easier for you if you just don’t see him, you tell yourself. you go out of your way to avoid his walking path on campus and you refuse to leave your dorm when you don’t absolutely need to in fear of bumping into him or worse, just seeing him from afar, and god forbid you even come within three streets of the corner where his apartment resides. you block his number and you delete social media off of your phone for the time being, too many mutual friends to make casualties, and you do not let yourself think about him. not falling asleep, not when you wake up, not while you’re doing homework, not in your dreams or in the shower, not when something reminds you of him, not when you see his favorite show on your recently watched, not when you really need a good cup of coffee. 

and it works for a while.

but not forever.

three weeks into your detox and you’re doing such a good job at not thinking about gojo that you mix up his monday schedule with his tuesday schedule and on your way back to your dorm, you see him. if you keep walking at the same pace that you’re walking, you will collide with him. if neither of you do anything, one of you will get hurt. 

you look down at your phone, hoping, in the forefront of your mind, that he didn’t see it was you. (in the back of your mind, you’re hoping that he’s the one to break the longest bout of silence the two of you have had since you met.) when you sneak a glance, he’s already almost reached you, jogging to catch up with you. “hey,” he calls out, just in case you haven’t seen him.

“hi,” you say, stopping in place and letting him approach you.

“i’ve been trying to get ahold of you,” he offers, like you wouldn’t have known that.

“oh, sorry, haven’t been on my phone,” you lie. he knows that you’re lying. he can tell that you’re lying, so you don’t really know why you lie in the first place. maybe to prove a point. maybe to make him feel bad.

“look, about…,” he trails off, trying to remember how long he’s been without you, “about that… day…,” he opts for instead. 

you put your hand up, waving the topic off. you mean to say something like, don’t worry about it, see you later, but it comes out like, “we don’t have to talk about that here.” here. fucking here. if you would’ve left those four letters out, it would’ve been a perfect line to walk away with, but you don’t. your stupid coffee-craving brain tacks it on, hopeful. 

“right,” he says, nodding, “should we get coffee maybe, then, or?”

it’s not out of the ordinary, or it didn’t used to be, but now it feels taboo. you want to snap and ask him if he’s sure, because coffee sounds a bit too much like a date for people that aren’t together, but you realize very quickly that the irritation from your coffee detox is maybe a little bit too much to hold in without any closure. “sure,” you agree, “i just got done with class so we cou-.”

“i know,” he says, because three weeks hasn’t erased your schedule from his brain either. 

you order an iced tea. you’re still convinced you’re done with coffee for good. he looks surprised at your choice, like he’s never seen you order an iced tea before, because he hasn’t, but he doesn’t say anything. you sip on it throughout unpleasant pleasantries and it’s refreshing, but it’s lacking something. in fact, the longer that you drink this stupid drink that has caffeine anyways and isn’t as good, the irritation bubbles higher and higher until- “can i start?” you ask, tapping your fingers against the table in rhythmic succession. 

“yeah, sure,” he says, bringing his coffee to his lips and taking a sip.

“if at any point in this conversation your answer to anything i have to say is that we weren’t together, i don’t think we should have this conversation,” you reason, and you mean it, but his reaction takes you aback. you notice the smallest flinch when you say weren’t.

“i wasn’t-,” he shakes his head, sighing, “no, i wasn’t going to say that.”

“okay,” you say, dragging your fingertips along the condensation on the side of your glass. “then what were you going to say?”

he thinks for a minute, like he didn’t assume that he’d get this far when he brought up the idea of coffee. “i wanted to stop you from leaving,” he says.

“but you didn’t,” you rebuttal.

“i didn’t,” he affirms. it’s quiet again. you can hear the scrape of the cups against the table as they’re picked up, drank from, and put back down. the chatter in the coffee shop drones over the sounds of hesitance and nerves. “i’m sorry,” he says after a while.

“so, do you think we were together?” you ask, “and be honest. i’ll know if you lie.” you search his face as he answers, and the only thing that comes up is another flinch when you talk in past tense again.

“yeah,” he says, honest. “being apart from you these past three weeks has been one of the shittiest things i’ve ever been through.”

“ever?” you ask, quirking your eyebrow, as if it isn’t somewhat true for you too. 

he nods in response, continuing, “it’s been hard.” he pauses. “i’m sorry i was so shitty.”

“pretty shitty, yeah,” you agree, but you can’t hide how nice it feels to just talk with him again, to call him shitty and to sit across from him at a coffee shop table. “i’m sorry i ghosted you these past few weeks,” because it deserves to be said too. 

“i really missed you,” he says, and he doesn’t hide from it. he looks you directly in your eyes and you can tell that he wants to reach across the table and hold your hand. you want that too. 

“me or just, like, sleeping with me?” you ask, somewhat terrified of the answer, scanning his face for the truth once again. 

he laughs softly and, try as you might, you can’t stop the fluttering in your stomach or the warmth in your cheeks hearing that for the first time in too long. “please, i haven’t thought about sleeping with you once,” he jokes.

“oh, no? not at all?” you ask, scoffing lightly, a tiny smirk threatening to break.

he forces a thoughtful frown, shakes his head dramatically and says, “can’t say that i have.” you’re laughing now, but through smile-squinted eyes you can still tell that he’s actually being genuine. “not really,” he says. 

“so just me then?” you ask to make sure.

“just you,” he affirms. “a lot of just you.” you hum, content with his answer, but he gives you even more than thought he ever could, “i don’t want to just go back to the way things were. i don’t think that’s enough for me anymore.”

even though you’re sure a response like this would’ve sent waves of shock through your entire body, it doesn’t. it just feels right. you reply quickly, “good. i don’t think it’s enough for me either.” you reach across the table. the back of your hand brushes against his, and then past it. you wrap your fingers around the handle of his coffee cup and bring it to your lips. 

he doesn’t protest or snatch it away from you or make a snarky comment. he places his chin in the palm of his hand, elbow against the surface of the table, and smiles at you. you take a sip from his mug, warmth spreading through every bit of your body. 

why would you deprive yourself of coffee when it brings you so much comfort?

ᯓᡣ𐭩 ʙᴏɴᴜs! ʜɪɢᴜʀᴜᴍᴀ [ ɴ/ᴀ ]

you’re not exactly sure how many times something has to happen before it becomes a theme. 

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

“do you -huff- want to -huff- have kids someday?” higuruma asks from beneath you, palms resting on the tops of your knees, thumbs massaging up to the insides of your thighs. 

you slow your bounces and then you stop them completely. you blink at him once and then twice. “that is a really wild thing to ask while you’re inside of someone,” you scoff, searching his face for any kind of tone indicator. is he being serious? is he just saying something to get a rise out of you? is this a kink thing?

he smirks, placing his hands on your hips, coaxing you to continue your movements, and you do. you lift yourself off of him, slowly at first, but then picking up speed as you chase the feeling you lost when he asked the question. you’re breathless when he asks again, the repeated question no longer stilling you. the second time around it feels almost normal. “do you?” he asks on his exhale.

you shake your head and then tilt it side to side, closing your eyes so all of the conflicting fast paced movements don’t dizzy you. “i- don’t- know-,” you huff, “maybe- conversation- for- a- different- setting.” each word is punctuated by the slap of your thighs against his hips. he nods, completely okay with that answer, and then just drops it.

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

“shit,” you say in realization, hips circling, fingers combing through his hair. you pull your head away from his shoulder, pushing yourself up to look him in the eyes. “wait, how did your meeting go today?” you ask, and this time neither of you miss a beat. 

when he slows to think about it, you pick up his slack, rolling your hips, feeling the drag of him inside of you, a breathy moan floating up your chest. he answers over your noises, “really good actually.”

“everything as planned?” you ask further, genuinely just as invested in this as you are in the act. 

he nods, smiling. “yeah, to a t,” he says, wrapping his arms around your lower back and pulling you against his chest. he kisses the side of your temple, holding you in place with a tight grip as he lifts his hips off of the bed, thrusting into you. “surprised you didn’t ask as soon as i came through the door.”

you shake your head against his shoulder, placing a soft kiss against his collarbone. “was thinking about it all day,” you explain. he fucks into you faster in response and it feels like a reward for caring about the things that are important to him. “but when- shit- when you got home…,” you grunt, “it completely- ah, fuck- completely slipped my- ah- mind, s-sorry.”

“ts alright, pretty.” he nudges his nose against your cheek, peeling your attention to his face. your cheek rests against his shoulder and you blink at him, focus dipping from the topic at hand as you feel that familiar tightening in your core. he can see it written all over your face, so he drops his head to kiss you, silently communicating that you don’t have to worry about finishing the conversation right now. he’ll bring it up again in a bit.

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

“should we get married?” he asks, back up against the headboard, looking you directly in your eyes, gaze following yours as you rise and fall. 

“you are not proposing to me while i’m riding you,” you say, shaking your head, but you don’t still or slow. conversations like this in a setting like this just don’t phase you anymore. honestly, it wouldn’t surprise you if he did propose right now. you’re not even sure you’d say no.

the corner of his lip tugs upward and he exhales a laugh as he leans forward the smallest bit to kiss you. “i’m not, i’m not,” he assures, “why? would you say no?” 

you’re quiet for a minute, not because you don’t know the answer, but to keep him on his toes. you won’t lie to him, you don’t think, but you don’t want to come right out and say it. his questions are rhetorical anyways, half-jokes that he’s not expecting serious answers to; you’ve known higuruma well enough and long enough to be confident of that. you could’ve replied with an eye roll and a scoff and nothing else and he would’ve dropped it. instead, however, you answer, “course not. i’d say yes in a second.”

he nearly comes inside of you right there.

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

maybe it becomes a theme when someone points it out. 

you can’t tell if it’s intentional or not, the way that the two of you keep having these serious conversations during sex. you know that you don’t do it on purpose; things will just hit you during the repetitive motions and you worry you’ll forget them and you know that higuruma won’t judge you for just saying them, so you do. whether this is the case for him, you’re not sure. 

but the interruptions just keep getting more casual. it starts with big conversations: weddings and promotions and thoughtful decisions, and then it’s like you just start remembering things in this position: work drama and mundane did you knows. it’s almost as if starting with big topics just made it seem so easy to talk about anything like this. 

it didn’t help, you think, that it’s just always easy to talk about anything with higuruma. you guys have been together, officially together, for over four years now, and conversation, no matter the topic or severity or setting, is something you’ve never struggled with. you continue to not struggle with it, inside of the bedroom and out. 

you’re not sure what about the position and the moment makes you so susceptible to remembering little things that you want to tell higuruma when he’s not around, and vice versa. in fact, you’re not even convinced that it’s something about the action that jogs your memory anyway, it’s probably just a really weird and common coincidence.

and then one night you can’t find your keys. 

you’ve searched everywhere for them, in your car, in your bag, every nook of your room, the places where they normally are, higuruma’s coat pocket just in case, and then everywhere else in your guys’ apartment. they’re nowhere to be seen. 

when higuruma walks through the front door, even from where you’re searching in the kitchen, you hear him let out an elongated, “woah.”

you pop your head into the doorway, “don’t say anything about the mess.” you can see his eyes resting on the overturned couch cushions and then on the various opened drawers. “hey,” you warn, pointing towards him as you walk quickly into the living room. you throw your arms around him tightly and give him a small greeting peck. it’s routine at this point; if you don’t do it your whole night feels off. “i said don’t say anything.”

he lets you hang off of his neck as he puts both hands up in surrender. “i didn’t say shit,” he says, pressing a kiss into the side of your neck, then moving his hands to your waist, “the fuck happened here though?” he laughs against your skin and you can feel the vibrations travel to your fingers and toes. 

you pull away from him, shaking your head. now that you’re back in the living room, it’s like you have to start this room’s search over too. you start checking under the couch and in the hall closet. “lost my fucking keys,” you grumble, smoothing your palms over your face, “i swear i’ve looked everywhere. i just can’t remember where i left them when i got home.”

“did you check th-,” he asks, walking into the kitchen, grateful that you’re not in there with him or he knows you’d yell at him for the way his eyes go wide at the clutter and chaos everywhere. 

you cut him off, “wherever you’re about to say, probably yes, ughhh. i’ve retraced my steps, i’ve looked in places that are fucking stupid to look in like every pair of shoes we own and in the fucking guest bedroom pillowcases. i’ve looked everywhere.”

from where he’s stood in the kitchen now, he can see you scrambling as you vent. he leans against the wall, “well, not everywhere or you would’ve found it by now.”

“i’ll kill you,” you say, eyes snapping up to meet his to show how serious you are.

he just laughs, “i’ve got a pretty good lawyer, you might not want to do that.”

“good legal can’t help you when you’re dead,” you snap, almost completely joking. he meets you back in the living room, helping you check all the places you’ve already checked. 

15 minutes pass and then 35 and then he stops abruptly. “oh my god, i have an idea,” he says, and you look at him, hopeful. “you know when you usually remember things?” 

your first reaction is joking annoyance, picking up a throw pillow and sending it his way. he catches it and sets it back down on the couch. “i’m serious!” he yell-laughs. 

you throw another pillow at him as your second reaction sets in. “that’s not going to fucking work,” you say.

“how do you know?” he asks.

“because,” you say, trying to come up with a good answer other than just blind doubt, “because i don’t remember things while i’m riding you. it’s not a fucking superpower.”

“you don’t know that,” he jokes back and braces to be hit with another pillow. “okay, okay, but i’m being serious! besides, what’s the worst thing that can happen? you don’t remember and we’ve had sex, how horrible,” he reasons.

you let your arms fall, pillow in your hands resting against the tops of your thighs. you look at him, thinking, which, in hindsight, was a dumb thing to do, because higuruma can see the contemplation on your face. 

eight minutes later and he’s inside of you and you’re the most embarrassed you’ve ever been.

“this is so stupid,” you mumble. you haven’t moved an inch after slowly lowering yourself onto him. you’re fully seated against his hips, hands smoothing over your face and then lingering there, covering. 

he reaches up, fingers soft and kind as he wraps them around your wrists, pulling them away from your face. “ts not stupid,” he reassures, but you’re not convinced. you groan, turning to look away from him, but that just won’t do. he reaches up again, soft grip on your chin coaxing your gaze back to his. “hey,” he says softly, “just focus here, angel.”

you listen, somewhat, mind still flickering back to why you’re even riding him in the first place. “just enjoy yourself, okay,” he tries again, rolling his hips upwards, pressing himself inside of you as deep as he can. you close your eyes, and it’s quite easy to just focus on the feeling of being as full as you are right now. “good,” he whispers, “just like that.”

it doesn’t take long for you to lose yourself completely, moving on your own, letting the whimpers and whines take over any other thought you might think to say, chasing that feeling rather than worrying about whatever you’ve lost. 

it all kinda clicks at once: where your keys are and why you always remember shit when you’re like this.

in the midst of everyday noise, so many things get lost: important and unimportant thoughts alike. but now you’re not worried about anything else. you don’t care about anything else right now. you don’t have to. you don’t want to. and in this state of letting everything go, mindless and blissful, some things slip back through the cracks.

you collapse onto higuruma’s chest, spent and happily aware of this new revelation that you have not, for once, shared in the middle of sex, but kept quiet as a come down surprise. you hum softly as he rubs up and down your back, hum again as he presses a kiss into your forehead. “m sorry it didn’t work, angel,” he murmurs. 

you turn your head, ear pressed right against his heart as you gaze up at him. “i left them in the fridge,” you reveal, and he knits his eyebrows together. 

you assume that he’s going to say something about how did you leave them in the fridge? or why are they there? but instead he questions, “what? and you didn’t tell me until now?” like you’ve harbored a life long secret. you laugh softly, snaking your hands up and scratching your nails against his scalp, playing with the ends of his hair. “don’t think this is going to get you out of it,” he says, “‘ts my favorite thing when you just blurt shit while you’re on me.”

you can feel the warmth in your cheeks and your chest as you breathe a laugh. “you’ve never told me that before,” you murmur. 

“think it’s cute when you just can’t wait to tell me things,” he says, “feels more intimate than being inside of you.”

“ew,” you say, scrunching up your nose, even though you weirdly agree. 

he just laughs in response. a few seconds of quiet comfort pass before he backtracks, “wait, why the fuck are your keys in the fridge?” 

and you tell him all about it, about the day that you’ve had and how you remembered you hadn’t drank enough water so you were refilling your bottle from the pitcher in the fridge as soon as you got home from work, but your hands were full so you set your keys on top of the leftovers from yesterday, but then you had to go and set everything down and the fridge closed and by the time you left the kitchen you remembered you needed to do something else… and it just keeps going.

you tell him as you’re taking a shower and as you’re eating dinner together and as he’s brushing his teeth and you’re washing your face and laying in bed and setting your alarms. every room in the house is a mess, but you’ll deal with that later, you decide. you rest your chin on his shoulder. “and how was your day?” you ask, even though the clock reads much later than it should for how much sleep you both should get before you’re up early for work tomorrow. 

nevermind that, he decides, and tells you all about it anyways.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 ʙᴏɴᴜs! ɴᴀɴᴀᴍɪ [ ɴ/ᴀ ]

“can i ask you something and when i ask you, you’ll know i don’t mean anything bad by it at all because i love you more than everything in the world?” you ask, putting down your phone only after you’ve finished your sentence. 

you wait a few seconds for nanami to take in what you’ve asked. he reaches over to the night stand for his bookmark and sticks it between the pages. he shuts it with an audible shuffling of paper and a sharp thump. 

nanami has been with you long enough to not typically be surprised by your out of the blue… questions. (dronings? is there a word like droning but the connotation is more positive? like you talk at him a lot and he loves to hear the ramblings in your brain, but sometimes he is just trying to read his book before bed. whatever that word is.)

he places the book on his lap and then turns his chest towards you completely. you now have his full attention. “is that a yes?” you ask. 

he inhales deeply, “if i say no, will you still ask it?”

you think on the answer to that question, really mulling it over before shaking your head. “no, i don’t think so.”

“then yes,” he smirks, “i suppose i have to say yes then.”

“great,” you say, tossing your phone onto your bedside table with a clunk. you sit up straighter, rocking forward to fully adjust your position on your side of the bed. you put your hand on his thigh and cross your legs, letting your knee rest on the side of his comforter covered hip. “do you ever regret not dating more?”

it definitely takes him by surprise. he thought you might drop another weirdly specific hypothetical about would he love you if… or request a glass of water even though you already told him tonight when he was getting into bed and he asked if you wanted one, that you did not. 

now he’s the one mulling over your question and despite how nerve wracking it could be to wait for an answer to a what if that involves not you, you’re not anxious in the slightest. you’re quiet, just waiting for his answer, and when he finally speaks, you know exactly why you weren’t scared in the first place, “i’ve honestly never thought about it since i met you.”

“really?” you ask, and you’re mostly feeling very lucky that nanami is yours and you are his, but there is an underlying feeling of guilt that he’s unintentionally caused with this statement. 

he nods. “sounds like you have though,” he says, and it’s not even a little bit judgmental. it sounds like he’s imploring you to keep talking, like he wants to hear exactly what you’re thinking, why you brought it up in the first place.

“i wouldn’t trade this security, this love, exactly what we have, you for anything in the world,” you start to explain, and it’s nothing but the truth, “but sometimes i just think about that first night when we were in that bar. the flirting, the risks, that feeling of not knowing where the night is going to end up. sometimes i think about that a little bit.”

he hums, thinking about that night, and after a few seconds of silence, he speaks up again, “first date nerves,” he nods, “now that i think about it, i miss those.”

you cock your head at him. that’s a weird part of dating to miss, you think, but then he explains further, “like when we went out on our first date and i didn’t know what you were going to wear or if you liked the restaurant i picked or if you’d let me pay for your food.”

“or if i’d take you back to mine,” you joke, raising your eyebrows at him, but really you’re burning inside. your cheeks feel warm just hearing about these feelings he’s never mentioned to you before. 

“yeah, that too,” he laughs, getting back on track, “like, i’m still finding out new things about you all the time, but back then i was discovering who you were every second we were together, and that- that felt like…”

“like finding out soulmates were real?” you ask, because that’s what it felt like to you, that same exact phenomenon he’s describing. he smiles at you warmly, like you’ve just put to words what he felt he could only experience. “i know what you mean,” you smile. 

he leans forward, cupping your cheek with his hand and guiding you towards him. he kisses you softly, placing his other hand on your other cheek and kissing you harder. “should we go on a first date again?” he asks against your lips, barely pulling away to speak. 

you laugh, but when you pull away, you can tell he’s not joking. “what?” you ask, “what do you mean?” you’re already blushing though, already feeling the exact first date nerves he was just talking about. 

“let’s go on a first date,” he repeats himself. “i’ll pick you up at your front door and i’ll choose the restaurant and it’ll be a surprise and i’ll ask you questions that i’d ask you on a first date even if i know the answers to all of them and more at this point.”

you’re smiling so big that your cheeks are sore as you nod fervently at the concept. “okay, yeah,” you agree. 

“right, so we probably shouldn’t kiss or make out or sleep with each other until then to really play into the whole thing?” he teases, and you roll your eyes in response. 

“you’re very funny, kento,” you say, leaning in, brushing your nose against his. he doesn’t even last a second, closing the gap with a small peck and then another and then another and then a much longer one and then he’s putting the book on his nightstand so he can pull you into his lap. 

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

you get a text 5 minutes before 7 that nanami is going to be 3 minutes late picking you up. the text looks a little weird underneath a thread of:

>> nami <3 >> how’s work baby

<< read << if you love me you’ll come and pull the fire alarm to get me out of here early :) :) :)

>> nami <3 >> fine but that’s a class four felony in some cases. will you be providing legal assistance or should i look elsewhere????

<< read << how do u know that?? nerd!!!

>> nami <3 >> google tbh. 

<< read << wow. first i have to stay at work all day alone and sad and now i get to know my bf isn’t sexy and off the dome smart about everything. :(

>> nami <3 >> goodbye.

<< read << :(

>> nami <3 >> i love you

<< read << :)

you bite back the urge to reply with something you’d say to him after knowing him for years. rereading the text and thinking back to your first date, it makes you giggle. actually, it makes you kinda nervous. you text back a polite no worries! take your time! and he replies with a heart and you truly feel like you’re dating for the first time again. you feel honest to god giddy. 

arriving to the restaurant, you are genuinely surprised. you thought after knowing him as long as you have and having gone to as many restaurants with him as you have, you’d go back to somewhere nice you’ve already been. but that isn’t the case. 

he drives you to a pop-up restaurant 20 minutes out of town that you’ve never even heard of, but is the cutest place you’ve ever been, and the entire time he can’t stop sneaking respectful glances at you. he won’t stop telling you how nice you look. he even apologizes for it by the sixth time, pushing your chair in at the restaurant saying, “i know i keep mentioning it, and i’m sorry, but if i said it every time i thought it, it’d be a never ending string.”

if he keeps this up, you’re going to feel like you’re cheating. this seriously feels like a first date, like you’ve been in a relationship for over 5 years and you’re also going on a first date and it’s really messing with your head, but you never want it to stop. 

he stays true to his word, asking you questions he already knows the answers to, but hearing them again, they sound brand new. he doesn’t know if he’s just forgotten some of them or if the testaments of time have weathered your answers just enough to sound unfamiliar, but either way, he’s hanging on to every word. 

by the end of the night, you’ve truly convinced yourself that there are stakes to this date, like if you play your cards wrong, you won’t get to keep seeing this incredible guy. he pays the whole bill, even though you insist on getting your meal or at the very least dessert. he says, “you can try next time too.” and you can’t breathe, you feel so lucky. 

“i’m sorry if this seems forward, but i’d really like to keep seeing you tonight,” you say as the waiter takes away the paid bill, and your heart is thumping so violently against your chest, you swear he can feel it too. 

he shakes his head, “perfectly forward,” he smiles, “your place or mine?” you break character for the first time tonight, giggling at the reality of the question, hiding behind your hand as you do. “what’s so funny?” he asks, but he’s grinning just as big as you are. 

“just thinking about how dreary my life would be if i hadn’t gone on this first date,” you say, and it’s a little too meta, but he’ll let it slide, because he’s a bit flustered at the sentiment. “mine is great,” you answer, placing your hand on his, rubbing the tips of your fingers against his knuckles. 

everything about the rest of the night feels like a first too. it feels like your first kiss in front of your front door. it feels like he’s seeing “your” apartment for the first time. it feels like you’re making out on your couch for the first time. 

it feels like the first time he’s ever been inside of you. 

when he pushes deeper into you, eyes on yours shut tight, you tell yourself that you want to pretend you’re on a first date every single day of your life. you can’t stop whimpering, pleading for him to never stop fucking you ever, please don’t stop, please never fucking stop. 

you break character for the second time when you’re right on the edge. he keeps looking down at you with so much love in his eyes and his hands all over you feel like they know every inch of you, and you can’t stop yourself. you grab his face in your hands, “kento, baby, please, ‘m gonna- ‘m sorry, i- fuck, please. i love you, fuck,” you whine, and he can’t stop himself either, hips stuttering, head falling against your shoulder as he feels you clenching around him as he empties himself inside of you, murmuring how much he loves you right back. 

the way you’ve been feeling all night: blissful and coy, it’s not because it’s a first date, it’s because he’s nanami. it’s because he’s orchestrated the entire night and no matter how “new” everything feels, the underlying foundation of that newness, and the reason everything feels so good, is familiarity and safety. 

“i’m sorry that i-,” you breathe, but he stops you, reaching his hand up to drag his fingertips against your lips, and you laugh, pressing a soft kiss into them. “okay, okay,” you say, and he places his hand back down by his side. “done with the first date stuff, just want to be yours again,” you murmur. 

he scoffs, light, and you can hear his smile in it. he falls over onto his back, pulling you into his chest and kissing the top of your head. “never weren’t,” he mumbles against your hair. “always will be,” he mumbles again, holding you tighter. 

“good,” you say back, settling into his arms like that’s the only thing you know to be true in the entire world. you wouldn’t trade that truth for a million first dates. 

sure, holding your breath at quick witted flirts and stolen glances is nice, but it’s a lot nicer just knowing that you will never be loved better and you will never love harder. 

♡ ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢs ᴀɴᴅ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴs ᴍᴇᴀɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ♡ no bc the yelling really worked very well idk yell at me more to write a continuation for toji (maybe also gojo bc hes the only one i havent written even an inkling of smut for) idk i'm just thinking of so many scenes idk throw hcs at me in my inbox IDK! toji dating for the first time? got me fucked UP

ᡣ𐭩 ᴛᴀɢs ᡣ𐭩 @igocrazyeveryday @vernasce-blogs @minty86 @abrielletargaryen @pompompompompompompom @mysticrays @lilolpotato @thisisew @pnkoo @optimisticsandwichgladiator @ryumurin @cisseadven @multi-fandom-fanfic @noosayog @anxious-chick @mintleafwrites @(tried to tag some other folks but couldnt!!)

[randomshyperson]

I Put A Spell on You - Wanda Maximoff Kinktober #03

Summary: After a tense week and a training session, Wanda finally had enough of your attitude.

Warnings: (+18), heavy smut with power dynamics,  brat tamer!Wanda and sub!Reader, edging, orgasm denial, slapping, a lot of teasing, blindfold and magical restrictions, enchanted strap, kind of rough,  implied enemies to lovers, some cursing | Words: 3.559k

A/N-> This is almost late. I totally forgot I had to post the stories.

General Masterlist | Kinktober Collection | AO3 | Wattpad

-&-

It was Natasha's idea, or at least it was a Black Widow kind of thing.

Most of what Wanda knew about it came from Steve's official report on the training, and the rest of the story came from Sam gossiping around the tower.

But in a nutshell: You had your vision temporarily impaired on the last mission, you were knocked out by it and it almost fucked everything up. Wanda would have thought that this was all it took to diminish your ego a bit, but instead, you and Nat had a weird widow's agreement about eliminating weaknesses or whatever, and this was adapted to your training.

The whole story was the reason you were training with a blindfold on. 

And don't let Natasha hear this, but you were an impressive fighter, even more than the older widow. Somehow you were more agile and stronger than Nat, and it was the kind of thing that made Clint remark worriedly about how much harder your widow training could have been and secretly made Wanda's heart beat faster.

But back to the point: Wanda shared very few training shifts with you. Steve and Nat found peaceful interaction between team members advantageous, so as you didn't get on so well, she had fewer training sessions in your company.

Well, that changed because you seemed determined to prove that you could block blows without seeing them.

"Wow, you're still here." It came out more ironic than she wanted, but Wanda was actually almost impressed. It had been nearly a month since the whole thing had started, and this training was coming after a particularly exhausting mission. She was just going for a quick session - so that the muscles wouldn't lose habit as Steve liked to say - when she found you in the empty tower gym. 

The eyes covered by a black cloth were an almost comical sight, or at least, Wanda assumed that finding it funny was what she was feeling, every time she saw your serious and concentrated form, sweating in the gym.

"Good evening, Wanda." You greeted her without looking at her, your head down. You were listening to her movement she assumed. 

Wanda muttered the greeting back, busy leaving her belongings on the bench and looking for a treadmill. But you cleared your throat. "Don't you want a real challenge?"

She chuckled, rolling her eyes. "Oh, and that would be you, of course."

You smile, your hands behind your body. Wanda thinks she likes the blindfold, it allows her to stare you brazenly, without you even knowing.

"I'm a legendary fighter, yes."

She has to laugh at how naturally you say that. She takes a quick look at the treadmill, and well, smashing your ass really does sound more interesting.

"Okay, real challenge, show me what you've got."

Wanda positions herself on the opposite side of the mat from you, and clears her throat when you remain static.

" Won't you take your shoes off?"

She grimaces softly. Yeah, your hearing was starting to impress. Sighing begrudgingly, she uses magic to make the shoes come off and float away, and before she even has a chance to speak, you do.

"No magic tricks." It sounds like a serious warning, rather than a request, and Wanda doesn't miss a chance to torment you.

"Oh, is that too much for a legendary fighter?" She mocks, but all she gets back is an easy chuckle that she isn't able to reciprocate because you adjust your training gloves and the movement is distracting enough.

After a moment, you get into position. "I'm ready."

"At last." She scoffs, stepping forward. 

Ultimately, she's impressed. And she almost begins to believe that maybe the cloth is fake - there's no chance that you can dodge absolutely all the blows she's so exhaustively learned with such ease. 

It doesn't take long for Wanda to start getting impatient, and for you to start smiling at her, in that smug way that makes her skin itch.

She makes a mistake, and it's enough for you to knock her to the ground.

"Again." You say, standing next to her, equally out of breath but without a scratch. Wanda huffs.

"How the fuck are you doing this?" She asks, getting to her feet with a magical push. You swallow dry, taking a step back, very alert.

"Practice, of course." You mutter. "Are you ready to continue?"

But Wanda narrows her eyes, her head tilting slightly at your sudden alertness. She decides to test a theory, and red sparks appear in the air near your head.

The leap you make in the other direction makes her giggle playfully. 

"Something wrong, darling?"

You grumble, raising a hand in warning, irritably hitting exactly the right spot to point it at her. "Stop this. I told you, no magic."

But Wanda is tired, and she's feeling naughty tonight. Something about your vulnerability makes her body heat up.

She chuckles darkly, taking steps away that only make you swallow dry. "Someone's scared." She sighs, and the sparks appear again. You gasp, clearly anxious and not knowing where to strike.

It's Wanda's fault, there are too many of those and magic is much harder to defend against.

She chuckles at your state, and you snap back almost immediately."That's not funny, Maximoff." 

A magical tug pushes under your knee, behind your elbows, near your foot. Everything makes you jump with fright and sends Wanda into a fit of giggles.

"You're not so cocky when you're scared."

In a desperate attempt, you try to attack the magic, which only disappears into thin air against your skin. Wanda just stands back, watching the scene with amusement.

With an impatient grunt, you raise a finger at her. "Stop this shit, I'm warning you-"

"Don't be rude, darling. I like you best when you're polite." Wanda interrupts, and your exclamation of indignation turns into a grunt of pain when a magical tug forces you to your knees on the mat.

"What the hell?" You gasp, raising your hand to remove the blindfold. 

But the sensation that follows is like ropes grabbing your wrists and pinning your fists behind your back. Your heart is racing at the same moment. "Wanda, what the actual fuck you're doing?"

Although you can't see her, you hear her very well. Her slow steps towards you, until she makes you jump gently when she touches your cheek. You swallow dry. "Stop this bullshit, Wanda, I'm serious."

She pushes her tongue into the roof of her mouth, a clicking sound that makes you swallow dry again. Her fingers caress your cheek, and the lack of visibility makes everything all too vivid.

"You have a very dirty mouth, kotenok (kitten)." She retorts in a tone that makes you shudder from head to toe. With a dry throat, you look up, even though you can't actually see her.

It must be a good thing for your sanity, though. God knows what you would have done if you could have seen the way Wanda's eyes darkened with hunger when she saw you on your knees, looking up at her.

Licking your lips, you say calmly: "Be very careful with your next action, Wanda. It will be definitive for our future interactions."

She bites back a smile, and her hand leaves your cheek for your hair, the motion in the strands at the nape of your neck drawing a stubborn sigh from your lips.

"See, it's much better when you're polite." She says softly, letting her fingers slide between the strands, stroking your hair gently. "That's how it goes. You behave nicely, and you're rewarded. Behave badly, and well..."

To illustrate, she moves her free fingers. You hear the magic before you feel it - right under your blouse, like a rough tug on your left nipple that makes you grunt in pain.

"Fuck, you little shit-" But swearing at her makes it worse. The sensation is repeated on the other nipple, not real enough to hurt the flesh, but enough to cause pain. And in the current scenario, on your knees and blindfolded, just the right amount for a wave of pleasure to wet your panties. 

It takes you by surprise, so much so that instead of grunting in pain, you practically moan. And that makes Wanda smile, especially as she can see the blush rising on your face.

"You need to improve that attitude." She starts again, adjusting the grip on your hair to force your face in her direction again. You bite the inside of your cheek hard, certain that this time, you would have whimpered. "You've been acting like this for too long, you've gotten comfortable in your naughtiness. I can fix that."

"Wanda..."

"Shush, darling, now you don't talk. You listen. Isn't that what you were hoping to train yourself to do?" She teases, and the grip loosens. You don't have to obey, but you're desperate to do so.

With a lump in your throat, you nod and remain silent. And the next second, when the sound of a zipper fills the room, you grow restless and alert.

You're ready to question when Wanda sighs.

"Shit, honey, that's been working for me too." She panted and you were dying to understand what the hell she was talking about when, along with her shortened breaths, you heard a sound that shook your body to its core. 

Was it really possible that Wanda Maximoff was fingering herself right in front of you?

"W-wanda-"

The slap isn't magical - nor is it weak. Your cheek burns, but Wanda grabs your face anyway.

"I told you to be quiet." She grunts, and in a way, the affected voice is confirmation enough of your suspicions. You can feel your underwear starting to feel uncomfortable with the dampness gathering. "You've talked a lot of shit since I joined the team, now you listen, you brat."

Not only do you hear it, but as the movements continue, you can smell it. Her sweet, intoxicating essence is enough to make you moan for the first time in the night.

Wanda let that one slide, because the sound is too good to punish you for it.

And because you've held still long enough for her fingers not to be enough anymore, she's decided that you deserve a reward.

"Open your mouth, darling, I've got a little treat for you." She sighs, and you obey almost immediately, even though your face is burning.

Wanda removes her fingers from inside herself, sighing softly as she does so. Unhurried, she presses them against your tongue and has to bite down hard on her own when you buckle forward, sucking on her fingers with enthusiasm.

"Look at you, who knew you were such an eager little thing?" She taunts, although the sensation of your tongue on her fingers is almost making her lose her train of thought. She can only imagine how deliciously warm you must feel elsewhere.

You just keep moaning, sucking all her wet pleasure from her fingerprints, and Wanda has to reach down and grab your hair once more to regain some of her sense of grounding.

Her voice is hoarse when she speaks again, but you don't seem to mind. "Did you like your treat, darling?"

You open your mouth to reply but hesitate before doing so. And Wanda smiles proudly when she realizes. "Oh, dear, you can speak if it's to answer my questions. Tell me how much you appreciated your treat."

Swallowing dryly, you lower your head. "I loved it, Wanda. And I would love to taste it from the source."

She bites back a giggle, using one hand to lift your chin. "You didn't even thank me."

"Th-"

The magic squeeze comes directly to your clit now. You let out a little yelp, but Wanda's hand doesn't let you lower your head. 

"I didn't tell you to thank me. Rather, I was reprimanding you because good manners don't come to you naturally." She clarifies, and with tears of pain and pleasure in your covered eyes, you nod in understanding. Wanda sighs. "I'm going to make a good girl out of you, even if I have to keep you on edge all night for it."

The whimper that escapes your throat is humiliating, Wanda loves the sound. 

The next sensation on your skin is that of a chain, wrapping itself around your neck. 

"We need to continue this in a more private place, darling. Where no one will interrupt us." Wanda guides, and the chain gives a gentle tug, the hint caught just in time by you, who are on your feet almost immediately. Wanda bites back a smile. "Fuck, I could get used to this."

She manages to lead you quietly and obediently through the empty corridors, but your anxiety overcomes you at the door to her room.

You stop walking, gulping. Wanda smiles because you're waiting for permission to ask a question, even when you're dying to have it answered.

"It's my room." She clarifies, but you shake your head, signaling that it wasn't your doubt. She shouldn't be impressed that you've already become able to memorize the sound of the way to the rooms, but she is. Smiling, Wanda brings a hand up to your face again. "What do you wish to ask, darling?"

You sigh at the permission granted. "Are you... are you sure? About this..." Wanda is taken aback. Your hands are still bound, you're still blindfolded, at her mercy, and yet you're worried about how sure and comfortable she is. You take a deep breath as if trying to find the right words. "This is important, Wanda. We can't go back to how things were before if I come in. And if you're not sure, send me away, and I swear we won't talk about this again and-"

Wanda moves in, it's quick and less hungry than she thought your first kiss would be, considering recent events and frankly, the way she's been craving you.

Your lips are soft and kind of addictive. Your mouth kisses her with real confidence as if you've done it a dozen times, and Wanda has no idea how often you've done it in your dreams. 

But reality is superior to any of those.

You grunt against her mouth, impatiently, and Wanda knows it's because of your trapped hands. But all she can do is smile mischievously, using hers to pull you by the shirt into the room.

The door is magically closed behind the two of you.

You're not surprised to be put on your knees again - even if a moan of protest escapes you. Wanda smiled, feeling a wave of excitement at your vulnerable anxiety, your eyes blindfolded and your head moving gently as if you expected to hear what she was up to.

Wanda bit her lip, working on her own clothes without magic, so that you could hear the motions. It brought a shiver to watch you squirm gently, swallowing dry as if you could picture her naked. And your pleading sigh, practically meowing her name, made Wanda lose her mind.

Now wearing only her underwear, she grabbed your face again and kissed you with everything she had - teeth and tongue - and swallowed every throaty moan until she needed to breathe again. When she pulled away, a line of saliva connected your lips.

"We need a system, darling..." She murmured, her fingers working to open the belt loop of your sweatpants. "You know the color one? Green for go, and red for stop?"

"Y-yes, Wanda, please, just keep going-" She interrupted with a kiss mixed with a giggle at your desperate response, the hands that had opened your pants helping you to the bed, laying you down. The magical chains had adapted, and your hands were attached to the headboard now, holding you open for Wanda. Your arousal grew so intense that Wanda could see your muscles twitching.

She sighed contentedly as she sat on your hips, watching your curious and expectant movements. Magic did the work of removing your pants, but Wanda was taking her time teasing your skin under your blouse, having the best time in the world watching you squirm and gasp.

"Tell me what you want." 

You swallowed dryly, forcing your voice out: "Anything you want to give me."

Wanda bit back a giggle, her fingers tracing your torso. "Good answer, darling." She sighs, and in one tug, rips off your shirt. The remaining pieces are swept away as you try to keep your breathing under control. Wanda adjusts herself and sits on your stomach, her wetness and warmth against your skin making you wince. "I have an idea, you let me use you and I might consider letting you touch me, what do you think?"

"Fuck." You moan, and Wanda can't let that one slide, though the slap on your cheek is light, and much more of a teasing warning than a punishment. It makes you throb inside.

"Language." She warns, and you sigh.

"I'm sorry."

Wanda strokes the soft red on your cheek, leaning in in a way that makes her wetness slide down your abdomen. The involuntary contraction of your muscles draws a gasp from both of you.

"Behave yourself." She warns, and it seems to be as much about the language as your slight movements, and although you nod, you repeat the gesture. Wanda gasps and grips your cheeks tightly. But you force your body upwards, and her grip loosens as she begins to grind against your stomach, giving in to the sensation. 

It brings some kind of pride to know that she's just as affected by this as you are, but even as she's drenching your skin with her hot pleasure, Wanda lowers herself to wrap her hands around your throat and as she uses your tense abdomen to reach her own orgasm, her grip warns you who's in charge. She doesn't take long to come - all the teasing outside has gotten under her skin - and it's the hottest thing that's ever occurred to you, even if you can't see it.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck." She gasps through the last waves of her orgasm, her hips thrusting hard into you, who pants beneath her. Her juices run down your belly and you squirm impatiently.

"Please, Wanda. Let me touch you." You beg breathlessly, but she kisses you hungrily, her hands going down to your waist. At first, you think she's going to give you what you want, but Wanda gropes you in an unusual way, and you hear her magic before you feel a new volume between your legs. It takes you by surprise, the enchanted item and your tense body makes Wanda break the kiss.

With her forehead pressed against yours, she asks: "Red or green, darling?" As if to encourage an answer, Wanda grabs the conjured fake cock in her hand. It's really enchanted because you feel everything and the pleasure of the moment's stimulation brings a gasp. You move your hips, in the same direction as her without realizing what you're doing, and Wanda giggles. "I still need words."

"Fuck, green, yes." You moan and Wanda gives you a warning bite on the lips for cursing, but your head is spinning with pleasure from the movements that continue between the two of you.

Toys are nothing new - but a magic strap-on that you can feel as an extension of you certainly is. And Wanda seems willing to drive you to the brink of insanity when she simply adjusts the toy at her entrance and sinks in all at once.

You whimper, almost coming at once. She rocks gently against your lap without caring.

It's hard to breathe, especially when Wanda picks up speed and practically jumps on your cock, her warm walls clenching around you, trying to stop you from pulling out. Everything is too hot and just when you're ready to come, Wanda grabs your throat.

"Hold it." It's an order, almost impossible to obey when she rides your lap with such determination. You choke, struggling against the chains, the hot knot in your belly begging to break.

You almost sob. "I-I can't... please-"

She lets out a wicked giggle and doesn't stop moving. "Don't worry, babe, you're not coming. No matter how much you want to."

Wanda moans, and suddenly her movements stop. She groans heavily, gets impossibly tight and you think you're going to come, but something holds you back. Almost like a force of strength, and when Wanda falls limp against you, and her body continues to tremble from the intensity of the orgasm in contrast to yours, burning with more frustration, you understand what she's done.

"Wanda, what the fuck?" you gasped in a mixture of disbelief and irritation. And instead of losing her temper, she giggles mischievously at you.

"That's why you don't deserve to cum, baby. You're a foul-mouthed brat." She bites your jaw as she sits up, and you gasp, feeling her clench around you. "You're not coming until you improve this attitude."

She thrusts into you as a warning and although you feel as if you could come, your body simply won't obey. Because of the blindfold, you can't see her red irises either. 

"You're so mean, Wanda." You groan, sighing at the sensation of her pulling out. 

"Oh, darling, we have barely started."

[metalheadsforblacklivesmatter]

I totally did not miss a day of disability awareness month because I accidentally skipped a day when scheduling my posts. And if you think I did... that's ableist...

Today's Disability Awareness Month post

Time blindness

What is it?

It's a complete inability to accurately measure time. That internal clock that says it's been 5 minutes? Yeah, that no works.

Cool. How can I know I have it? Because I don't really think anyone can accurately tell when 5 minutes have gone by

So a few years ago. I fell hard. Dislocated my shoulder. After a few days, I'm like "Yo. My shoulder been hurting too long after this bad fall. I should see my doctor about that". The doctor asked how long it had been. I told him 5 days... in my defense I really thought it had been 5 days... I texted my friend to confirm.... it had been 5 weeks...

Wow. That sucks. So like how do you manage that?

So like. I try to frame of reference based on what was going on around that time. Like "When did that truck randomly park in front of the house?" Well I remember being really worried about fireworks hitting it during 4th of July. So it's at least been that lot. And I know it wasn't there the week before because my friend would've definitely bitched about it being in the way. So that gives me a frame of reference of about 5 days.

So like you're talking about remembering time on past events. But you also mentioned being unable to tell when 5 minutes have gone by

Absolutely. Time blindness both impacts "I don't remember how long ago this event happened" as well as "I can't tell when 2 hours have gone by and I need my lunch break".

Another way I experience time blindness is meetings. I have a reminder at work that'll be like "meeting in 15 minutes". And I'll be actively trying to keep that in the front of my brain while I'm trying to get some last minute things done. Like "meeting in 15 minutes. Meeting in 15 minutes." Then next thing I know 2 hours have gone by 😅 and I'm like "when did that happen?"

Sounds like you're looking for an excuse to be lazy and inconsiderate of others time

No. There's actually ways you can manage your time blindness. I have an alarm for literally every. Single. Thing. In my life. I have an alarm when I should be taking lunch. When I need to go to bed. If I have a doctor appointment I'll have an alarm for when I need to make sure I have my paperwork (I aim for 2 days before). An alarm to make sure I have my insurance card (the day before). An alarm to start getting ready to leave. And an alarm to be heading out the door. Lots of alarms. Lots of reminders.

Sounds like you need a planner

See... time blindness is associated with ADHD... so that planner... do you want to see the pile of unused planners that I bought then completely forgot I had? If that planner isn't right in front of my nose as all times or screaming at me. I'll forget it exists. That's why I like alarms. They scream at me.

Cool. But I also have this thing where I can't tell how long a task will take

Fun fact. That is also time blindness. I'll be like "Cool. I'm just gonna wash the dishes real quick before I go. Should take 30 seconds..." *15 minutes later*

Time blindness makes it really hard to plan your day because you don't know how much time it'll take to do shit. One time I was like "I'll put this shelf together real quick after work". Real quick took 2 hours. How the fuck am I supposed to plan out my day if I can't figure out how long it'll take to wash dishes or put a shelf together?

-fae

[luskiddo]

wow!!! totally forgot to post this pride month art here!!!! 1st of july? meh, close enough

[fireroll]

remember that crack (treat seriously) au i made. here's Basil. I'm very slowly getting the hang of colouring DSFJKSDF

ALSO he just turned 16 here! he's a couple months older than Aubrey, Kel, and Sunny sooo

btw in case you didn't see my post yesterday here's a brief summary of this au under cut ^^ (also i'll probably redo these doodles [refs?] a bunch of times)

it's based off that one pic with like a person going "THE REASON I FELT SO OUT OF PLACE IN MY FRIEND GROUP IS BECAUSE THEY WERE ALL IN A POLYAMOROUS RELATIONSHIP AND I DIDN"T KNOW" (it goes something like that 😭😭😭)

So basically one day around 3 years after Mari's death, Sunny gets forcefully busted out of his house. Literally. Kel breaks into his room through his window (he's standing on Aubrey, who's standing on Basil) and they drag him outside

He's like super confused, very much disorientated ("what????"), but hey. he had a great time so can't really complain.

Like...3 days later (adjustment period) the others sit him down and goes "Ok. haha. so..the Truth is out. it's been out for like, a little more than a year."

Sunny (repressed memories :c) is like "what Truth????"

Basil: ...the stairs?? Mari?? ring any bells?

trauma breaks out then gets resolved yada yada.

Sunny feels like he's missing something. Actually, he's felt like he has been missing something ever since he got out of his house. He assumed it's just cause he hasn't been here for like 3 years. Then he assumed it was because he didn't remember the Truth. Then...he can deny is no longer. He is Missing Something and he didn't like it.

Then he found out Basil, Kel and Aubrey were dating. like. wow.

(the whole thing has just been such a norm for the other 3 that they just totally forgot Sunny didn't know. it's not like they were purposefully leaving him out or something, it's just that...they forgor 💀)

Sunny: ok ok. cool cool, congrats. :)

(he's totally not jealous because he has Several Crushes™)

Eventual Solar System.

[fyreflys]

Hey friends! I posted this little drabble I wrote for this Tumblr Request (<- original/unedited version) to my AO3 a month ago & totally forgot to mention it until now (wow I’m so good at self promotion /sarc). I edited it & added a few more details. I’ve kind of really fallen in love with it, & I think you guys probably will too! Go ahead and give it a read if you’d like <3

Birdbath

Everlark • 2.9k words • Teen • No Archive Warnings

Peeta finally comes home to 12 after the war to find Katniss a mess. Somehow, they end up taking a bath, and Peeta becomes a little more hopeful about their future.

[actuallylorelaigilmore]

2022 MOVIE OF THE WEEK #33

disenchanted. i......have been avoiding this review since literally months ago because just thinking about reviewing this movie makes me sad and tired. if you loved this movie, which i think some people must have because i’ve seen the occasional gifs from it on my dash, feel free to skip this. it’ll go behind a cut, because i suspect it’s gonna get long.

(spoiler alert: it got ridiculously long. how did i have five thousand words to say about this? and if anyone besides leander reads this i’ll be shocked but that’s fine cuz they were the one encouraging me to make it through this rant and if they hadn’t i definitely would have given up even trying a long time ago.)

and it is pretty much universally negative, because i could not have been more looking forward to this sequel featuring literally my favorite disney (noncanon but still mine) princess and it not only let me down (as sequels tbh do a lot so that’s not even surprising) but it sincerely broke my heart. 

in a ‘wow i’m being really overdramatic about a disney movie’ sort of way, but it’ll make more sense after i explain it, i promise. you had to be there, i think, to care as much as i do, and only @actuallylukedanes was, so it was also pretty convenient that i ended up watching this with them when they were gonna watch it with their partner and invited me to join. cuz they felt the same way i did about the sequel, which is how i knew i was not overreacting. 

it was also leander who advised me to start posting completed reviews of other 2022 movies since i was stuck on this one, even though i never posted them out of order before. (i ended up realizing in january that i totally forgot a movie from 2022, so it’s good i wasn’t as obsessed with perfect chronology anyway.)

the first warning sign i had with this movie was honestly its release. they had been talking about an enchanted sequel for so long that i had stopped hoping for one, and then when it was really happening they wouldn’t even put it in theaters!! i was so pissed off about that, because enchanted felt like a magical (pun intended) experience for me in 2007. 

it came out exactly on my birthday, when i turned 23, and @actuallylukedanes​ and i saw it in the theater to celebrate. we lived in utah then, and were happy rather than homeless, and we paid for the movie using a card that had a ‘reward’ system like a lottery where they told you they would at some random time choose a single purchase you made, and reimburse you for it. out of everything we paid for with that card, it was the tickets to enchanted that they made free.

and i couldn’t have been more excited to see enchanted back then, because it was a real live musical, and those have always been rarer than i wish they were, and the cast was ridiculously great. long before amy adams was making bigger movies, she had played tara’s cousin on buffy and a memorable one-episode character on charmed, and i had just always loved her an unreasonable amount like i had been waiting for her to be a movie star. plus i had discovered wicked in college and dove deep into other idina menzel musicals as well as every one of her solo albums (and singles that weren’t sold anywhere, which i downloaded illegally because that is called devotion) and was just generally obsessed with her for years. 

and then there was patrick dempsey, reliable dreamy star of grey’s anatomy (which i gave up on quickly but he was good in) and james marsden of the x-men trilogy i had watched a zillion times. (his character was not one i liked in that, but he was great as a comedic part of this.) i had grown up with susan sarandon and wasn’t used to her as a villain but she brought just the right level of Too Much, and her henchman was perfectly cast. they somehow managed to even make the child in the story not annoying, which can be really rare, especially when she has an actual role--but she’s great. 

the mix of animation and live-action was really fun, and when giselle’s dress goes from cartoon to sparkly 3d it was so swoony. truly like a disney fantasy sort of moment, they brought so much to life. and they did so even where it shouldn’t have worked! the basic plot of ‘two couples aren’t meant to be so they switch partners amongst themselves and then it’s perfect’ is not one i like in other movies, but here i’m just like, yeah absolutely, dance with patrick dempsey in your pretty dress, and let idina menzel go live in a fairy tale. 

but in addition to all of that, and the catchy, catchy music, what i really, truly loved about enchanted, and why it was one of my all time favorite movies to put on that i never got sick of (along with mamma mia and a few others, i really like musicals okay), is how much it turned out that i identified with giselle. how much she not only made sense to me, even as she was supposed to be this wide-eyed disney princess, but how she gave me language for things i was still figuring out, and i got so attached to that.

i was 23 years old. i had left home less than two years earlier, and i didn’t know i was autistic yet, let alone bipolar/anxious/adhd/disordered eating all knotted together. i hadn’t begun thinking about what it meant to be ‘developmentally disabled,’ and how unprepared that made me for adulthood, independence or being in a relationship. I had just leaped into all those things, and i wasn’t necessarily all that good at any of them. 

but there was giselle, singing her way through a world she didn’t understand how to navigate either, and it was okay because there was somebody who loved her for her exact weird self and a child who needed her. (substitute cats for child and you see where i’m coming from.) she was relentlessly optimistic but also cursed by forces outside her control, and she was full of creativity. 

my absolute favorite moment that giselle has in the whole movie, when it comes to why it was important to me, is when she experiences anger. at first she can’t even name it, and then there’s a kind of joy she finds in it, in having a new feeling...in having the FREEDOM to feel that difficult feeling, and not need things to be perfect all the time. until i saw that scene, i had never realized that my childhood had trained me to not be angry--before i was even conscious that had happened. and once i saw that scene, i started to wonder if maybe anger was something i was allowed to feel, after all. 

i think if you’re not me, or you didn’t know me at 21 (a fragile adorable unstable bby desperate to be rescued from my life), it might be hard to understand that, how i didn’t just love giselle for being giselle, but loved her for being the most me a character played by amy adams could be. 

up until i fell in love, and was loved in return (my only real wish thanks to moulin rouge), i collected tv and movie characters, made little lists of them, and they were always the ones i wanted to be like, ones i wanted to grow into. usually the snarky best friends, the deadpan wits, the ones who pined but never got the guy. (bby me didn’t think anything but ‘guy’ was an option.) i didn’t spend time claiming characters that were like me, that made me feel seen, until i was older. (i couldn’t, when i didn’t know who ‘me’ was.) so giselle felt like one of the first ones, with her autistic literalism and trust in humanity and her joy in everything. 

then flash forward fifteen years and they’re continuing the story. even more amazingly, they’ve brought back the whole central cast (minus the child actor, who i assumed they replaced because New Morgan sings and dances, but i didn’t look it up or anything). idina is much more famous now thanks to her frozen work and of course amy adams is amy freaking adams now, nominated but never oscared, but they both came back. the direct-to-streaming release worried me, but i saw a trailer and the movie looked way better than i kind of expected, so i was excited after all. and as mentioned above, i settled in to watch it with my family. 

^^^^and that is where this review left off, almost a year ago--because it was still so hard for me to wrap my brain and my heart around writing it. but at this point i’ve reviewed all the other movies i watched in 2022, AND i’ve watched almost 20 movies this year and reviewed most of them, and those reviews are just sitting in my drafts waiting for me to post them once i finish this. so here goes:

this movie was bad. obviously that’s a personal opinion or value judgement or whatever, but like...it was really, really bad. it bore no resemblance to the original and painfully reminded me how disney’s moviemaking these days is so soulless when it comes to trying to squeeze more money out of its existing IP. and i can handle fairy tale/princess modernizations that aren’t all that impressive (idina was in one of those as well, cinderella), but even those had parts that i liked or that were fun once i was grading on a curve for the whole movie. i can’t say the same for this one.

first of all, we’ve skipped time since the original, which makes sense, since everybody’s older. but nothing about the time progression makes sense, because offscreen fifteen years have passed, making amy adams 48 when this movie came out. giselle and robert have just had a newborn whose royal inheritance is what leads to the movie’s plot--at best, i guess we can assume amy was supposed to be playing giselle a lot younger than she, the actress, was. or maybe her andalasian genes make her immune to fertility averages? 

either way, though, that still doesn’t explain morgan. who in addition to becoming literally a different person (and i hope they only replaced her because the original actress opted out, because she was so great in the first movie i’d resent disney for dumping her just to make the new one sing and dance, or whatever other justifications they might have) is a teenager now. Original Morgan was nine years old in enchanted, or the actress was, anyway. if we assume they meant for Original Morgan to be only seven or eight as a character, that still doesn’t explain a now-high-schooler morgan in this movie. it has been literally twice as many years in real time as it would have to have been in this movie world for morgan to be this age! and unfortunately for the movie, it’s mainly about adults, who have aged the fifteen years you would expect. so that’s ridiculous.

but anyway. somehow, all the adults from enchanted look fifteen years older but morgan’s a teen, and her parents have had a shiny new baby. idina’s character moved with prince james marsden to his world, and literally everyone is depressed now except prince james marsden (and presumably the baby). giselle sees a billboard and decides that’s a plausible reason to uproot her whole family from the city she fell in love with and that the others were from even before meeting her...to move to the suburbs. 

at first, because of the impression i got from the trailer, i thought she would be moving to a perfect-seeming little enclave that was secretly evil, like a magical stepford or something, and that it would turn her evil and throw her family into peril. but the real plot is not that creative. it’s literally just the three of them moving to an ordinary suburb that (gasp!) doesn’t automatically fix their lives. instead, robert has a slog of a commute now, and in their own ways, giselle and morgan both struggle to fit in with their new local peers.

everything establishing this movie’s setup baffled me because it felt so random and flimsy, when the original was a beautiful sendup of classic disney tropes that managed to be subversive but still magical. i referred earlier to giselle deciding on a plausible reason, and i felt the same way about disney and this sequel: it felt like they decided this concept was a plausible reason to bring the cast back together, mix in a few new actors, and try to make money off the result (in this case by locking it inside their streaming service as though that would force new subscribers to disney+ instead of what i’m guessing actually happened, having less viewers for the movie than they would’ve gotten in theaters--cuz even i, the biggest fan of the original, wouldn’t have subscribed just to watch it).

but their ‘plausible’ setup is therefore that everybody’s feeling a bit meh in new york city. robert’s not excited about his job, morgan’s a sullen teenager, and giselle misses the days when everything felt magical and new and perfect. instead of recognizing that they have a freaking newborn, which i may not have experienced personally but have certainly heard is a difficult phase of life (especially the first time, for giselle), and that they simultaneously have a teenager, which anybody who’s ever been or met a teenager can tell you is a difficult phase of life for both the teen and their parents--heck, instead of just going to THERAPY when new york city is one of the few places it may still be easier to find access than everywhere else these days--they move to a random place where they know no one for truly no reason.

the movie wants us to believe that the reason is giselle seeing a billboard and believing its promise (or still being unusually literal?) but neither of those makes any sense because even if we had reason to believe that giselle hadn’t learned anything or grown in the last mysterious number of years and would truly treat a billboard like a promise rather than an advertisement (and i don’t think what we see of her in the sequel supports that idea) it’s still robert she’s married to now, and we know he’s always been someone who lovingly but firmly points that stuff out. 

morgan’s unhappy because she’s a teenager, she doesn’t actually want to move, and as much as robert loves giselle, i don’t believe at all that he would just let her have her fantasy of a fresh start without injecting reality into the situation--so i think the real explanation is that both robert and giselle, for their own reasons, are desperate enough to try it despite knowing it won’t be a magic fix. but then idina menzel and prince james marsden (i should remember their character names but i really don’t at the moment) pop into their new, still-unhappy-just-in-a-different-time-zone, lives and make everything even worse. way to go guys!

continuing the flimsy plot setups, they’re visiting to give a gift to the new baby, to basically proclaim how special she is and make morgan feel like she’s neither special nor giselle’s ‘real’ daughter. giselle is thrilled by the gift from her childhood home and her former prince remains as hilarious as ever (the acting in this movie is good, they’re just not given as much to work with; ‘campy humor’ was the only element they could successfully recreate for some reason). but nancy is clearly already Over It, the former new yorker not exactly as enchanted with prince james marsden as she used to be now that she has to live with his personality 24/7. 

you might expect this to be woven in with the central family’s ennui in some way, but you would be disappointed--that general intermittent eyerolly energy is never directly addressed and as far as we know by the end of the movie, she’s still with him. and i guess will remain so forever? because that’s the rule when you choose a fairy tale life?? even though giselle’s story was entirely about leaving fairy tales behind when they weren’t what she wanted???

maybe we’re supposed to read nancy’s reactions as like, lovable occasional annoyance at How Very Much her guy can be sometimes. but it didn’t come across that way to me; it seemed intentionally to mirror the dissatisfaction giselle and robert were struggling with. i could have been giving them too much credit there, i guess, in assuming deliberate parallels. 

but the real point is that the adults were unhappy in the city, and now, in the suburbs, they’re still not very happy. after the gift-givers go back to andalasia, giselle makes a wish using her baby’s magic present, wanting to make their family into a fairy tale...and she gets her wish. morgan goes from a strugglng teen to a cheerful girl again, running around singing and eventually having to be the savior of her family. robert goes from a commuting lawyer to a wannabe monster slayer, and giselle slowly transforms into an evil stepmother--while the women in town who’ve been snubbing her turn into an actual villain with henchwomen in tow.

from then on, it only gets more ridiculous. amy adams is an immensely talented actor, and like i said, i’ve loved her since she was on tv. but she is not doing her best work here, switching between normal giselle and evil stepmother giselle in response to a chiming clock in a way that reminded me of one of those over-the-top acts where a guy hypnotizes people and then can trigger them to be a chicken or something. it was just so over the top, and lacked any of the emotional depth the original movie brought to her character that made me care.

and poor robert, it was clear, they did not know what to do with. a convoluted exchange with prince james marsden before the wish created circumstances where he was carrying a sword around on his commute. that, i’m sure, was supposed to help make it seem like it made sense for him to become a giant fighter or whatever. but really, they had a sequel to make in which he had to be there because he was her happily ever after in the first one, except now robert isn’t a love interest anymore, there’s no drama between them--and the actor was never meant to be a major contributor to the musical part of these movies, so what’s the point of his story? to run around looking for monsters, totally separate, and mostly unnecessary, it turns out.

the fairy tale transformations mean that we go from watching giselle being sad and hurt in response to morgan’s attitude to morgan’s being mistreated by her now-evil stepmother--neither of which is fun. in giselle’s intermittent ‘good’ moments, she tries to encourage morgan to be free of her and get help, and eventually morgan does end up in andalasia with nancy (she’s also a cartoon at that point, i think). nancy helps her understand what might fix things, and the fact that it’s up to their teenage daughter (whose complaints the whole time have honestly seemed the most reasonable to me compared to her parents’ vague ennui) to save not just her own family but both worlds from doom...it doesn’t seem at all fair. but okay. 

the solution for making giselle good again involves morgan’s memories and singing and the idea that with the power of love it’ll all be fine, but what i remember most about it is that the scene is really just a vehicle for idina menzel to get her own song. which, duh--i was very disappointed that she didn’t sing in the original, and given the success of frozen, it would’ve been crazy for them not to showcase her more this time. 

but the song she’s given? it’s so bad. so very bad. the others i was watching this movie with spent a significant portion of the song time mocking it, and i couldn’t blame them. at a certain point, it just devolves into idina belting the words ‘love power’ over and over and over. you know how some words or phrases become completely meaningless if you say them too much? this definitely felt like that, like the big drama’s ‘solution’ was flimsy to begin with, and then they forced a song into it that wasn’t even a good song, and got idina to sing it. she’s so much better than that! it genuinely made me wonder if she has some kind of disney contract that left her stuck dealing with this.

somehow thanks to morgan, though, giselle does stop being evil by the end--i don’t remember exactly how that scene plays out so i doubt it matters too much--and ending the sort of wish curse she inflicted on everybody means they go back to living in a normal suburb. the woman who briefly became her villain nemesis apologizes in a ‘sometimes i’m a lot oops’ way, and giselle is just like ‘hey, me too, no big deal.’ 

and this brings me to my two biggest problems with the movie, outside of how much it felt like it was trying to destroy any love i still held for the original. 

this movie has no real villain. unlike the first one, where susan sarandon was camping it up in a delightfully appropriate way, and was defeated in the end...this movie falls into the same hole that so many New Disney Movies are determined to, for unknown reasons. we can’t have classic straight-up evil anymore; our heroes have to instead be facing antagonists that are less specific or even less corporeal. it’s family! who of course will no longer be in conflict by the end, and don’t actually need to be ‘defeated.’ or it’s emotions! and once they can be accepted rather than avoided then things will be okay again. 

i’m not saying that’s a bad thing, in general. i love encanto, and i thought turning red and inside out were great. but when you’re dealing with a now-franchise whose original style was to reference and gently mock and lovingly rework classic disney tropes...why would you toss that out completely and make a sequel that feels like the other movies disney makes now? why can’t people appreciate that beloved movies are beloved for a reason and you can’t just slap the ‘brand name’ on whatever you want and act like it’s just as good?

but yeah. this movie decided to have no villain by way of having two villains, both of whom were only temporarily villainous due to indirect magic and who became normal again once it stopped. they bear no real responsibility for being villains, because after all, they aren’t really. post-movie, it seems like they may even become friends! all’s well that ends well. 

which really annoyed me, lol, because it felt so incredibly pointless once i knew that was how it ended. our main character accidentally makes herself evil, makes somebody else evil, has to be saved from being evil while fighting the other evil, and the grand conclusion is that they just finish back where they started? how is that a story that moves forward, let alone a good story with some kind of point or even just a good-versus-evil win, fairy tale style? 

it’s like the main conflict of the movie is created by them having problems, but then the problems they were having...are solved because they’re no longer in conflict. which brings me to my second issue with the movie’s ending: apparently the ultimate lesson of this follow up to enchanted is that growing up means learning to settle, rather than believing in happily ever afters.

despite the cheerful singing at the end of the movie that tries to make us believe it’s just as great an ending as enchanted got, i was so underwhelmed and disappointed and tbh freaked out, that they reached that conclusion. the story we were given was giselle and robert and morgan are a family now just like they wanted but they’re all unhappy, so they move out of the city to seek happiness elsewhere. and it fixes nothing which instead spirals giselle into cursing the town but in the end everybody’s okay and there are no consequences and nobody’s mad at giselle cuz she didn’t mean to do it...so she and robert and morgan commit to trying even harder to be happy in their new suburban life.

and all i can wonder is, why is that the lesson? why is that the right place to end up? why couldn’t they go back to the city and figure out their problems there, since clearly suburbia wasn’t a fix on its own? there didn’t seem to be a real reason for requiring giselle, who loved the sparkly harsh city she landed in years ago, to become a suburban mom--or for uprooting morgan, or making robert become a ‘small town practice’ kind of guy. 

i guess what grates on me about it is that it has such a hallmark christmas movie vibe of just assuming their real happy ending would naturally be escaping the city, no matter how central it was to their original story and lives. whatever their deeper issues were that made them unhappy in the city, they haven’t addressed those by the end of the movie; they’ve just somewhat improved the issues that moving TO this new place piled on. 

therefore my logical brain goes, you were unhappy and tried to fix it by moving but that only made things worse. why wouldn’t you reverse the making-it-worse part by going back, and then continue trying to figure out how to fix it? i just don’t get it. and i may be kind of offended by it, because the giselle who i have always adored is a completely different person in this movie, and not because of some wish curse.

she’s older, and sad, and it’s like nothing about her life is fun anymore...and maybe there could’ve been a way to craft an interesting story out of that, though i don’t know what it would be off the top of my head. but we don’t get whatever that could’ve been. and we don’t get a sequel about our faves from enchanted having more hijinks and having a to fight a new tropey villain, in the style of the first one. what we get is a story about everybody from the first one not liking their lives and having to fight the fallout from that and then concluding that hey, at least the world didn’t end so they must be better off than they thought, time to make the best of it. it deeply depressed me.

and look--i’m not saying i demand happy endings always. i don’t even require happy endings mostly! but unless there is some requirement i’m not aware of that post-pandemic we are no longer allowed happy endings at all, this was not the movie world to bring back just to say ‘the best you can hope for is meh. good luck.’ giselle and everybody else deserved better.

i will say that there was one thing about this movie that i liked. exactly one thing, sadly, or at least only one i clearly remember. i was really excited about the casting before this came out, because i love jayma mays, and maya rudolph is reliably good always. once i actually saw the movie, i was bummed that jayma mays and the other henchwoman didn’t have roles worth including, but maya rudolph was as good as i expected. 

and since this movie was such a mess, she also just really stood out. she’s a ‘can do it all’ kind of performer, in a way that makes it look easy, and i feel like that’s the difference between amy adam’s background in a lot of dramatic roles and maya rudolph’s background in snl. they’re both super talented and both have range, but are a good fit for different things because of that. 

so there is one song in this movie and one performance (cuz it’s the performance of it that makes it good) that i genuinely enjoyed. it’s basically a face off between the two not-actually-villains, kind of like ‘anything you can do i can do better’ but sillier and maximum camp. it’s the only part where it felt like that was what the movie was deliberately aiming for, and both actresses are fully going for it while sometimes we’re watching them parallel on splitscreen...it was ridiculous but in an entertaining rather than cringe-inducing way. 

so that part is great, but also highlights even more what this movie could have been. if only they had let maya rudolph be a proper villain, the leader of a trio of new antagonists for our faves to face, that would’ve been potentially a great movie. she could have gone evil after getting her hands on the baby’s wand, then gone down fighting after the family consulted with their andalasian friends on how to deal with magically corrupted humans. the ending could have been more interesting with bigger stakes than ‘everyone survives and decides to play nice.’ 

heck, i could write that version of that movie! lol. but i won’t. because it would probably necessitate rewatching disenchanted and that is something i never ever want to do. that was a piece of my heart you fucked with, you jerks. and i’m gonna stay mad.

[fae-iii]

My Alolan Persian never got their own dedicated post on here, but I still really like it. Shockingly not too much I would change if I made it today, despite being an early piece for me. I remember doing this in one or two concentrated sessions in one day, which is different than my current pattern of focusing in short bursts for as long as it takes. I wanna maybe reinstill that discipline a bit.

Probably unrelated: I think I'm doing a lot better. Like, mentally. Not sure how to quantify it, but I think I am. Going to be one year since I started making a focused effort on art pretty soon. Idk if I have any big celebrations in mind, probably not.

One larger piece slowly in the works; there was a different, ventier piece I wanted to make, but, eh, I'm not feeling constant loneliness and dread right now and don't really have the ambition right now.

Wanna draw my PMD OC's more this year; I wanna draw more in general!!! Also, I finally came up with a name for Riolu. Not revealing it yet and I haven't started making any plans to reveal it yet.

Wow, this is a lot of wording. I feel like I tend to overshare in my posts sometimes. It's my little safe one-way communication method :). But wait. just one more thing: Weasel Wednesday cleanup project announcement cuz I've spent hours upon hours at worm these past three months debating whether Chien Pao counts as a Weasel and it totally does!!! It's super obviously a weasel!!!! Past me, you fool!!!!! Coming eventually.

But wait. just one more thing: uhh, wait, I wanted to make a game in Gameboy Studio. I almost totally forgot!!! Fae's untitled game can be purchased from the Nintendo eShop today probably not anytime soon.

[myeclecticjourney]

Hello, I'm back!

Merry meet everyone! I know I've been MIA for literally years now, hahaha. My life has been a complete and total caos. I moved from Mexico City back to my hometown which was a HUGE change after 10 years, BUT, the Universe definitely knew what it was doing.

Even though I got extremely depressed the first year (2022) later I understood why I came back. I'm so grateful because I get to be with my family again, which makes me really happy. Also seeing again one of my fur babies: Kona, my oldest cat 🐱 has been amazing too. I then adopted a new kitten whom I named, Rin.

In January of 2023 I went into surgery for a condition in the bones of my feet, which led me back to being depressed, lol, because I literally wasn't allowed to walk for 1 month and the two that followed were pretty miserable, the recovery was really slow, or at least that's what I felt in the moment. But at the same time it was beautiful because the universe sent me the most amazing human being in the planet, my partner. We met and it has been the most heartwarming relationship. Every single day, ever since we met, I've been so grateful for having an incredible soul by my side.

Yesterday, marked one year of the surgery, and wow, I've really used my new feet hahaha. I've went to more concerts and music festivales than I could count (totally blame my boyfriend who luckily is addicted to them because I love music too), I went to Europe with my mom and my aunt obviously walked like crazy hahaha, but it was totally worth it. Having the opportunity to see different cultures, tons of art and to travel with my mom, was definitely a core memory to me.

I decided to start a small business because one of my biggest dreams is to have my own brand and concept store in which I sell my art. It has been quite a ride hahaha, but totally worth it. I literally work 20/7, not joking hahaha. Sometimes I sleep so late trying to figure things out and my anxiety and the way I tend to overthink everything deprives me from sleeping, BUT, it has thought me a lot of positive things. One of them, being the most important: Give myself some rest.

That is exactly why I'm here ☺️ because these past years I forgot one of the biggest parts of my life: My spirituality. And even tho I kept on celebrating the sabbaths, and doing a little magic here and then, I completely blocked most of it.

As of lately everything has been finally falling into the right path and I couldn't be any happier.

I really really hope everyone is doing amazing this 2024. I want to hear what you guys have been up to, and let me know what you'll like to see next! I was thinking on doing a post about amulets and talismans.

Blessed be y'all,

May

[shadelessanon]

Idiot

The time was normal. Check on the experiments, the failures, etc. Zai had a daily routine, today however today was the annual, "beat up a sadistic bitch" day. Because due to some cry baby lore zai hated sadistic bitches, and who better to beat up than a digitalized clone of shaded. Who is shaded? Why who shadeless was supposed to be of course. Zai hated shaded, and who wouldn't? It was simple, just beat the ever loving crap out of the digitalized version of shaded, and move on, and then it happened.

Zai made another mistake, they hated mistakes and this one was no different. They forgot to update the computers firewall, and a idiot seeking virus broke in. The virus wasted no time taking control of the systems, and messing with zai. Zai knew the virus all to well, it wasn't their first encounter.

"Well well well, look who forgot to update their anti-virus. How's it going disbrain? It's been a while."

"Virus."

Zai turned around to face the monitor and see that all to familiar smiley face, constantly shifting from black to white.

"Let's see here, what shall I do this time? Override your security system? Delete months worth of research? Destabilize your relationship with those anons?"

"Leave me alone already?"

"Booooooriiiing! Lets do something simple. Mess with your schedule! Let's check your calendar app- what the hell?"

"What?"

"Annual beat the shit out of a sadistic bitch?"

"Hello."

Virus diverts their attention to the monitor behind zai, the monitor where digitalized shaded is on

"I believe that relates to me."

The virus states for a second before transferring themselves to the monitor shaded is on

"Well I don't believe it! The sadistic bitch himself! Can I get your autograph?"

"wha-"

"Oh I'm sorry, your just amazing in my digital eyes. The way you ruined peoples lives for your own entertainment was just AWESOME. It's a shame you got shoved down a staircase and broke your shades which somehow drastically changed the timeline."

"Oh wow! Never knew I had fans! Did you hear about the time I ruined the guy with the perfect life-"

"AHEM"

Both shaded and virus look at Zai whose been standing there.

"Are you done? If so, can you leave virus? I have important matters to attend to."

"Well I think I will leave, but I am taking this dude with me."

"No your not."

"Yes I am"

Zai approaches the monitor and presses the ALT and F4 keys, nothing happens.

"Oh shit."

"Yea I figured you'd do that. So disconnected the keyboard."

The virus digitally grabs shadeds hand

"Bye disbrain!"

"Bye you fucking bitch."

Zai let's out a long sigh

"How the hell am I gonna explain this to Erza?"

----------------------------------------------------------

Ooc section

So uh yea. Shaded has entered the fray. Remember the post where I said I had a 1 day brainrot over the you are an idiot virus? IT DID NOT LAST ONE DAY.

I wanted to bring shades into this, but the question was "how?". And then I came up with this. Now that shaded is officially in the game, let's talk about them!

Lore: They were the average anon, till they broke their shades. So they went to buy some new ones, these ones however were a major upgrade and caused an ego boost. Shaded became a total douche, and started to ruin other people's lives. One person snapped and made them realize how terrible they were but instead of changing for the better, they continued down that path with pride. They no longer cared, simply decided, "Ive already made myself look like a badguy, might as well continue!" And they grew to enjoy this. They became sadistic. Till zai said "nuh uh" and did some time shenanigans and pushed them down some stairs before they started being a bitch.

Appearance: Shades is actually taller than the average anon, and by a noticeable amount. They are 2 feet taller! Vest? Your wrong, trench coat! Shaded actually wears pants, they are just so grey you can't see them. Shaded has cool looking shades. (The shades also got some built in technology that displays real time information about people! Courtesy of the virus)

Other info: Shaded has one actual friend other than the virus. Statue anon. Who is statue? Don't worry, the two met in an elevator and they both realized they like soda cans of grey stuff, instant besties ♥️

(they totally didn't make out in a wendys bathroom)

(am I /j or /srs about that? I have no actu clue I'm still deciding.)

(grey stuff is also wet cement. Yea shaded likes to drink wet cement. Why do you think statue anon is a walking statue?)

(statue anon will not get a blog)

(the post ends here)

[voasprofile]

vil with an s/o who is a singer and love music from their orig world

I could probably shorten the title but eh I'm new cut me some slack

being brought to whole other world without knowing anything about it can really take a toll in our little readers hearts

luckily they have their phone with them, music really brings comfort to people. especially because it was the only thing familiar to them. what's in it? well yk only the most heart swelling, gut wrenching, eyes watering, hair pulling music you could ever think of

either that or the most back arching, eyes rolling, butterfly giving music

or yk like a psychopath like me, both. on shuffle

ok neways

vil had known of the prefect, not very hard to

they were the talk of the school, from being magicless, to defeating what like 4 overblots, or being in trouble like every other hour

they were rather infamous to put it nicely

what he didn't know them from is their music

like holy hell, how tf did they get so popular? when did this happen?

well tbh he didn't find out until he saw people discussing about a new underground artist

after that he forgot to search up their name whoops

until he saw a vid from twistedtok raving abt this artist

so he was like eh why not and searched them up

it was yuu(pun not intended) he was kinda surprised like weren't you just fighting jamil 4 weeks ago?

browsing to yours list of song was like browsing through a teenagers diary

angst, angst, oh a horny song, and another one, and another one, and oh wait this sounds like- nvm it's angst

and it was just yuu recreating their fav songs and publishing it cause their phone died and twst doesn't have the same charger things

not me promoting but think somewhat this playlist of mine

you had garnered a lot of attention, for someone who plagiarized /j

don't tell anyone, but vil would totally listen to your music

i mean come on

but he wont admit it, that little bitch

during vdc camp, he would wear them small ear phones and would guard his phone with his life, like no one needs to know abt this

except rook knows, he always knows

and epel, because he once barged in vil's room for smth idk he seems like the type to do that

you only found out because vil asked you to play the song they were supposed to be practicing on. which was supposed to be the most recent one

but when you clicked play it was your song. let me put something totes not embarrassing for the both of you, hmm let's see

i wanna be your slave by maneskin yuu

the song was the next song as the practice song just ended a few seconds prior

silence engulfs the room your voice singing the most vile things anyone from here has ever heard you say

you kinda just froze like what were you supposed to be feeling?

why does it have to be this song?

so you were internally freaking out still frozen as rook puts it on himself to save two prideful beings egos. and walks to you and slowly gets the phone from your grip before pausing the song

while vil was witnessing the end of his life his career with an open mouth

"so you like my songs eh?"

"shut up literally shut up"

wow what a non-toxic way for the beginning of a beautiful bloom of a relationship

there was a lot of songs that reminded you of vil yet you only realized at like 2 months into the relationship

so you began dedicating love songs to him and only him cause like duh he's your so

but like the songs that are erotic and sad like real sad are literally dedicated to no one

cause your a moody little bitch who when even the slightest bit sad release a whole ass song with the most heart breaking lyrics

when asked in an interview on who hurt you, yuu were like

"haha myself"

or like abt those sussy songs

"i was feeling down so i had to cheer myself up"

or those songs dedicated to vil

"i am madly in love"

you two were almost the epitome of a picture perfect couple

almost(i thought abt making an angsty ending but i decided against it)

that bitch rook always steals your thunder

you were performing a new love song to vil and asking his thoughts about posting it

and rook comes up and recites a poem right. in. front. of. you.

you almost grabbed him by the neck and not let go for 30 minutes. by accident of course

so it was like a competition to the both of you

and the vibes were like yuu being like

"homewrecker"

and rook being like

"lmao what you talking abt neways. your skin as fair as snow and as smooth as porcelain-"

cue you throwing a vase at him

overall 10/10 would be a cute relationship

[bettsfic]

2022 in writing

whoops, i wrote this at the end of december, put it in my drafts, and forgot about it. this is my seventh year writing a recap and i just read through all of them again. part of me thinks, "it's been 7 years and i haven't accomplished a fraction of what other writers have in that same time." but then the other part of me remembers 1) other writers are on their own path and working at their own speed, and 2) it's unfathomable to me how utterly mentally fucked i used to be. and i mean, i'm still mentally fucked but at least i'm working on getting better. the point is, i had a different starting line than others.

anyway, it's a new year and that means it's time to think to myself for the 7th year running, "dear god when am i going to publish a book." every year i think, this is going to be my year! every year it isn't.

overcame the worst writers' block i've ever had

"overcame" is making it sound more dramatic than it was. i went on a medication that fucked with my brain and then went back off it. but i worry that when i think back on 2022, i'm not going to remember all this cool stuff i did, i'm going to remember how utterly miserable i was for six months. how terrifying it was to feel like someone else was living in my body. i wrote a little bit about it in october's newsletter.

some of this post i've copied over from my newsletter.

but also i have to acknowledge that when i came back to writing, it felt like my brain had been totally rewired and i feel capable, creatively, of about 10x more than i used to be capable of. i'm still trying to articulate what changed and why.

published some things

“shut up and kill me” -- featured in issue 41 of Barren Magazine. the editor who chose it said it was his favorite of the 700+ submissions they received. very happy this weird story has found its home. please heed the warnings!

“coping skills” -- featured in issue 1 of Flossy Lit Mag, a magazine my friends started and which has some great work in it already.

("not if, when" was published january of this year, so it'll go in next year's update)

published other people's things

in 2022, ofic magazine published 33 prose pieces and 3 art pieces! over half of what we accepted came from not yet published authors and you have no idea how happy that makes me.

won a grant

i’m very very excited to say i won the Barbara Deming Memorial Fund grant to help offset the travel expenses of the residency i attended! i’ve been applying to this for years and it’s amazing to have been awarded it. the judges had a lot of lovely things to say about my work and it was a big confidence boost.

did a residency

i spent a month in beautiful Wyoming at the Jentel Arts residency. i met some wonderful artists, got a lot of work done, and had an amazing time. definitely the highlight of my year.

made the top 10 of a big contest

i submitted "Not If, When" to a screenwriting website hosting a prose contest, and out of what seemed to be a lot of submissions, i was a top 10 finalist, and now my story is being pitched to production studios to see if they want to buy the film/tv rights. i've also had a few phone calls with hollywood people wanting to talk to me about my work (i'm still confused about that) and i think they've gone well. no idea what the endgame is here though.

ran other workshop

i intended to run two fanauthor workshops but i only managed one, because of the whole "just gritting my teeth trying to stay alive" thing. but the one i ran i think went really well!

coaching/editing is my job now

i didn't think too much of that until i met with my thesis advisor to get caught up and she was like, wow that's the dream. and she invited me to be a panelist for the annual publishing symposium at my alma mater.

i'm not getting rich or anything, but i've picked up enough commercial copywriting work to make ends meet.

applied/submitted to a few places

totals:

11 residencies (8 rejections, 2 rejections with encouraging feedback, 1 acceptance)

4 publications (1 encouraging rejection, 3 acceptances)

1 award (1 acceptance)

2 screenwriting-ish contests (1 rejection, 1 finalist placement)

this has been far and away my most successful submission year. 6 major wins!

wrote 421k words

what's extra wild about this word count is that ~400k of it was across 6 months. from january 1 to june 16, i wrote only 22k words. and then from june 17 to december 31, i wrote the rest. and for the finished works, this doesn't include their respective trash docs (where i put everything i cut from a story). if i add in those, it's an additional ~90k.

year over year word count comparison:

2022: 421k

2021: 183k

2020: 375k

2019: 430k

2018: 450k

2017: 150k

2016: 343k

2015: 250k

2014: 311k

nine year total: 2,913,000

& other stuff

i really advocated for my mental health this year and i'm super proud of that. i mean dealing with my brain was basically a full-time job and i've come to accept i'll be spending my entire life micromanaging my own head, but for now things are okay

unfortunately i got a diagnosis that wasn't what i expected, that seems mostly correct, and which i'm having trouble accepting

i moved into an apartment with my best friend and it's going really well so far

the only travel i did was to missouri to visit family, and to wyoming for my residency

2022 goal recap (from 2021)

sell a book any book dear god -- got close, but nope

finish a draft of a new novel -- big nope

get an apartment -- yep! and it's great

publish 3 issues of OFIC -- yes and i'm very proud of them

publish 12 newsletters -- no, published 5 newsletters

register OFIC Press as a nonprofit -- not yet, working on it (this is far more difficult than i thought it would be)

run a successful Fanauthor Workshop -- yep! 2 sessions out of my goal of 4

write a proposal for a fanfiction craft book -- no, but i talked to my agent about it and now we're working on it together

write a script (pilot or feature) and submit to contests -- yes but it was Bad and i've gotta, you know, make it not bad

2023 goals

these are going to be remarkably similar to last year's, considering it's all just stuff that's been set in motion.

SELL A BOOK

finish a new novel (it's february and i've already kind of done this, but still putting it on here)

publish 4 issues of ofic mag

publish at least 6 newsletters

build the 2024 ofic press catalogue

apply for nonprofit status

run 4 workshop sessions

submit nonfiction proposal

build a script portfolio (feature, pilot, spec)

find a healthy balance between writing and living

annual thank you!

despite how badly i derailed for the first half of the year, i'm really grateful to fandom, readers, and all the friends i've made here for your support and encouragement, without which i wouldn't have been able to do any of this.

prior year recaps: 2015 | 2016 | 2017 | 2018 | 2019 | 2020 | 2021

[enculpius]

Wow, just spent some time on twitter. I take back my months prior post that Tumblr is bad and the users are losers. I forgot what other social media sites are like... I totally took for granted that Tumblr posts actually make me laugh and don't turn my brain into mush... Stay beautiful people of Tumblr, humanity depends.

All that and I'm not even mentioning the fact that twitter is full of heterosexuals...

[kharmophron]

any heartwarming personal experiences/UPG with Hermes (or any of the other Theoi) that you want to share?

wow this is so old but i literally just noticed i hadnt posted anything to answer it, sorry! i have the bad habit of not actually checking my askbox, just notifications, so i totally forgot about this one for months!

from the top of my head, there's been one specific episode of using divination with Hermes that always makes me go all mushy. it was the first time i tried using bibliomancy, almost two years ago, and i was upset over something that had happened- someone had asked me for help with a big responsibility and i didnt want to leave people hanging, you know? i really wanted to help but i also didnt want to overwork myself, so i sat down with Hermes to unwind, get out of my own head a bit. while we were ""chatting"" i thought i'd try out bibliomancy, and with it he called me a big softie. the quote was a dialogue that went kind of like "you're a good boy, you know that?" "yeah, and that sucks. i don't wanna be a good boy." "well, you are. and i love that about you." i almost died right then and there. after that i kept on trying out new things with divination, with dice and books and songs, and he was so nice and so sweet. i think about it all the time.

[mahoushoujotechsupport]

ok episode 10 time. i ended up only putting together the head and body of the mk-ii earlier

starting off with sarius trying to bring up aerial again to the benerit group to try and get some punishment in but rajan is like lol nope.

given how we later see prospera and delling together at the end of this ep, i figure its a pretty good assumption that some time between grassley duel and now (its 2 months from what shaddiq says later), delling bring prospera on for quiet zero and he likely also help front aerial's repairs

also man vim is a fucking idiot lol. i totally forgot he says this to sarius. and then iirc all we get once we're in cour 2 is peil bringing up that jeturk suits were used at plant quetta which like yea lmao he can't be like oh btw i knew about it all beforehand

oh this little lovestruck tanuki

knowing endgame miorine, what are the chances that little lesbian was keeping count like this too

i'm glad suletta no longer sees relationships as transactional but lmao this little gay baby. just ecstatic to be of use to miorine and tend to the greenhouse while shes away

honestly cool as hell that they got this prototype all set in the last two months - likely mostly nika and belmeria's work. i have a dumb headcanon that gund-arm probably didn't really get to do much R&D in the 3 year time skip because of all the loose ends miorine's probably been dealing with from the benerit group, on top of taking care of suletta, taking care of her mother-in-law and then nika's in fucking jail lol. even then, since it's likely ojelo and nuno were the ones doing most of the work (maybe belmeria still helping?), it's still neat that they have prosthetics about to start testing rounds with petra. yeah i wrote all this just to say wow nika's so smart

this scene is so ridiculously heartwarming lol she's such a little dweeb

who knew these stupid things would become such an integral part of the story lol

also, i'm glad we didnt get the secret message inside cool-san thing everyone kept theorizing about after the break up. that just wouldnt have made any sense with what miorine was trying to do lol

gosh its so nice to be rewatching this and just KNOW somewhere within those 2 months suletta and miorine's relationship just became normalized to the earth house kids and we just see it over and over in this episode

like when has nika referred to suletta as hanamuko-san lol and she does so immediately after our tanuki is gushing about giving miorine the ugly ass keychain lol

oh yeah, shes thinking of her tanuki

in retrospect this was kind of insanely naive of miorine, wasnt it? shes lucky feng jun and guston weren't onboard with what the rest of the SAL was cooking up

lol at this "stick to your duels". my dude you literally fund proxy wars on earth. you have no moral ground to stand on

lol this episode really is so good at setting up for episode 11. just look at her happy little faces each and every single time she's felt useful

oh the fucking bracelet 😭

weird to think shaddiq's plan works out in the end and plot convenience keeps delling alive, but it pretty much ends up as his plan of trying to obtain majority shares

i hope they've just been teasing her for 2+ weeks miorine's been gone and possibly even before then

iconic tanuki shot

platonically, of course. as gal pals.

actually i think of note in this scene with elan and him planting doubt in suletta's brain is whether what he says is true or he's just making shit up as part of doubt sowing. but he's basically implying that miorine has been acting in such a way that everyone at school is talking about it and they can't believe how different she's being. and part of that is certainly true given what shaddiq's said numerous times over the last few episodes

lol this will always remain such an excellent take on the misunderstanding trope

oh yea and don't forget mom and dad

almost forgot there's a post-credits scene on this ep. i wonder what his original plan to break up the group was before the delling assassination plan fell in his lap

also imaging living in a world where BOBBU became a class traitor and actually learned from his experiences..... yea right lmfao

ok definitely not finishing the 1st cour because it's taken me forever to watch this one episode. gonna see how many episode i knock out over the weekend