don't cry, craft!

this is your “i was here before buddie canon” certificate. reblog to let people know you were here before buddie canon hence being better and superior to other people who were not here before buddie canon.

the whiplash going in from zootopia 1 to 2 is so crazy. like one day you’re an aloof sarcastic fox who doesn’t care about nothing or no one then BOOM. bunny best friend partner against crime who you’re obsessed with enters your life and now you cannot take your eyes off her, must lean into her when sitting in any chair no matter how bad it is for your posture, and god forbid you don’t touch her every five seconds it’s a fate worst than death!!!! speaking of death turns out you’d die for her without a moment’s thought, it’s HER death that you fear, HER safety that you stubbornly refuse to compromise, HER danger you can’t bear to see her in. turn the other cheek no matter what they all say about you, because you grew up biting your tongue and steeling your heart, but all those life lessons go out the window the second her name is sullied in the slightest. push, shove, kick, jump—summon inordinate amounts of strength when she needs saving—but be soft around her. lace your gaze, voice, and expression with care when checking in on her well-being. cherish everything she touches, treasure any gift she gives. frame that article of you two, let your apartment fall into squalor but god forbid the area displaying the carrot pen she gifted you endure even the slightest speck of dust. never leave the house without it either. that tie she gave you? always wear it. smirk when it flies in the wind, and you catch a glimpse of those poisonous night howlers that blossomed your life together. beg her to run away with you. follow her anyway when she refuses. next to her is the place you actually want to be anyway, piña koalas be damned. you’ve never felt like you belonged anywhere else. the space beside her, tucked in close and snug, is the only one that makes sense. fight and tussle for it but don’t tell her she’s your entire world and nothing will matter anymore if she isn’t there to fight the good fight with you. get separated from her because you didn’t know how to put that big big heart with her name on it into small little words. almost lose her because of it. claw your way back to her anyway. break out of a literal prison to get back to her, because it’s where you need to be. it’s where you have to be. dive towards an almost certain death to plunge anti-venom into her chest. realize she would die for you too. tell her how you feel. somewhat disguise the extent of it. hug her so tight you don’t really want to let go. adore her so deeply it makes all your friends somewhat uncomfortable and appalled at how oblivious you two are to the nature of it. save the world with her, painstakingly track down the shattered pen that scribbled the start of your connection, your now unbreakable bond. come full circle by giving her your orange pieced-back-together heart. let yourself slip words of confession you secretly want to say every day, because you don’t go a second without feeling them. without loving her.

It's always "I love you" and never "Okay, I don't care that we're different. What I care about is you. I care about you. Okay? And I didn't say it. I should've said it. But I didn't. Because... well, 'cause I am an emotionally insecure source of your discomfot who is not good at expressing his feelings. Probably because I've been on my own my whole life. And it's not an excuse, it's just- it's why instead of telling you that you're the best thing that ever happened to me, I make jokes about your ears and I tell you that you try too hard. When, you know, the truth is, I just don't want you to get hurt because... because no one else in the world matters more to me than you do."