#if someone made something inspired by my cringe brain?

[yrrtyrrtwhenihrrthrrt]

More Nonsense from My Ambrosius Stan Account Post:

As someone who got on Tumblr a couple years ago not really knowing the culture and rarely posts because I don't think anyone cares about the silly worms in my brain I'd like to give everyone who thought it was funny and left a like or a tag or a reblog a very I Love You and here is some more thoughts about it I had through the day that I thought nobody would care about but am posting now

The account was named @gold_loin_love and gained notoriety for being the only stan account Ambrosius actually followed

During the live stream Ballister answered the questions (that he had his followers submit beforehand) while still in character, despite the fact that he was laughing his ass off and Ambrosius was with him.

Example: "'Do you think Ballister and Ambrosius are going to get divorced?' Absolutely. They're terrible together and honestly not even cute. They probably had some cringy beach wedding with their weird pink child officiating. Ew, next question"

Ambrosius would frequently interject

"Do I think Ambrosius was toxic for cutting off Ballister's arm?"

Ambrosius, stealing the phone: "Yes he needs to be cancelled immediately."

Ballister, taking it back: "Wrong that weird creep deserved it to be honest"

He read a couple questions that were defending him and after giving them his joke answer about how they were wrong, thanked them sincerely

(sad time) The first thing he posted after the events of the movie, during which he obviously wasn't posting although how fucking funny would it have been to be Ambrosius and see Ballister's fake stan account post "lol get his ass I hope he died" over footage of him MAIMING HIM in light of all that was happening was "I'm sorry that I've been gone, the death of the Queen really took a toll on me, she was a real role model and inspiration of mine. I'm especially sorry to Ambrosius. I wish I hadn't run away. I wish I'd been there for you through all this, I know it must have been so hard. I really hope everyone forgives him."

(sad time over, silliness resumed) He'd use the account to make fun of Ambrosius and himself in every capacity imaginable

"Check out what Ambrosius wore to the national conference, I love how it's so shiny you can't tell how busy and incongruent the patterns are 😍 we love a maximalist king!!!"

"Ballister Ballhard surprises nobody wearing armor he got at the emo booth of a Renaissance Fair."

There is so much potential for this and I'd love to see more of Ballister being a silly goofball

[sleepynoons]

togame x afab!f!reader (characters aged up), nsfw, 18+, not beta read

cw: marathon sex, unprotected sex, oral (receiving), slight face riding, subdrop + dubcon (not intended but could be interpreted as so), one slap on the ass, cum eating, fingering, descriptions of violence + pain + blood

notes: the underground fighter/fight club!au that no one asked for. i've never seen the movie either, so literally, take everything – especially the fight scene in this one-shot – with a fucking atom of salt. i was inspired by this lovely art, and since the manga mentions that togame has limitless stamina... well, i kinda had to do something with that info...

YOU'D EXPECT your boyfriend to be tired out by now. in fact, if you were him, the two of you would have gone to bed hours ago, deep in slumber from the day’s excitement and exhaustion. instead, you’re splayed out on the bed, arms boneless next to you and mouth releasing tired whimpers, as your body rocks along with every deep thrust from jo.

his hands hold onto your hips tightly, pulling you back as he pushes forward, attempting to bury himself ever deeper into you. jo’s always been competitive, and paired with his methodical nature, he’s obsessed with trying to bring the two of you to new heights of sexual pleasure.

how did the two of you end up like this?

your brain’s hazy, clouded by the feeling of jo’s cock kissing that sweet spot inside of you and his teeth nipping and biting at your neck and shoulders. but you try to recall, as a means to hang on, to stay awake for just a little bit longer.

you were invited to watch jo fight for the first time. you weren’t particularly fond of supporting violence, but he had insisted it was something of a casual community event, and it was good for some extra cash and fun prizes. it was also an important part of his life, and since the two of you’ve been dating for a few months now, he wanted to bring you along to meet some of his friends.

when both of you were driving to the club, hosted in an abandoned warehouse on the edge of town, you asked, “aren’t fight clubs illegal?”

he shrugged and said, “number one rule of fight club: don’t talk about fight club.”

you snorted and rolled your eyes. “you already have.” jo chuckled and answered all the questions you had until the two of you arrived.

he guided you toward the entrance and showed you around, pointing out a few coolers for drinks, the bathroom, and the arena itself. several people were already there, catching up and placing bets on the night’s matches.

as you walked around, you overheard someone say, “all my money’s on togame.” you glanced at your boyfriend, but he made no indication that he had heard anything. 

after being introduced to a few of jo’s friends, it was almost time for the match-ups to start. he had explained to you earlier that he would have to leave you unaccompanied as all participants were required to prepare for their rounds in a large storage room, which was essentially a smaller, neighboring warehouse unit. you reassured him that you would be fine, and in the worst case, you would wait for him in the car.

the fights shortly began after your boyfriend left. you watched as challengers came and went, some throwing punches and kicks at each other while others with more experience used their wits and specific techniques. you cringed as fists collided with jaws and feet were swiped off the floor. but everyone, including the fighters, seemed to be enjoying themselves, so you remained in your seat.

after four matches, it was finally jo’s turn.

like all of the other fighters, jo was shirtless and barefoot. everyone in the audience seemed to roar for your boyfriend as he made his way into the ring. when he stepped into the light, you sucked in a deep breath, a little shocked and in awe.

you had never seen jo so excited about anything in his life.

the jo you knew ate so slow that all the food would be cold by the time he was half-finished, preferred to nap on a beach chair instead of swimming in the pool, and hosted gatherings with friends at home to avoid clubbing and drinking out. the person you’ve gotten to know in the past few months seemed to be a wholesome, harmless dork.

but this jo didn’t even spare you a glance. now that he was standing in the ring, he was laser-focused on his opponent, eyes wide with dilated pupils and a wild, animalistic glint in them. it became abundantly clear to everyone in the audience that, no matter what, jo would win.

apparently, jo had amassed quite a bit of a reputation for himself, hence why the fight club was so packed. the hollers and howls from the spectators escalated as jo exchanged blow after blow with his opponent. you watched as your boyfriend ducked a swing, shifted his balance and stepped on one of his opponent’s feet, effectively immobilizing them for a second, before using his shoulder to jab at and ram into the opponent’s solar plexus. the other stumbled back a bit before managing to land a heavy kick to jo’s side, and despite knowing it would leave a nasty bruise, jo didn’t flinch and instead lunged forward, landing a series of punches in quick succession to the other’s face. in a few moments, his opponent surrendered. you finally allowed yourself to breathe, only noticing then that you barely did throughout the fight.

as the referee held up jo’s arm to announce his victory, he finally looked around in search of you. your boyfriend must’ve noticed your stunned expression, so he cocked his head and discreetly nudged his chin towards the exit. intuition told you to wait for him outside.

as you rushed outside, jo easily caught up to you, spinning you around and pinning you to the car. you squeaked as he kissed you deeply, taking away the air you just managed to regain, and pressed his body against yours, the smell of sweat and rusting blood piquing your senses. when he broke away and you thought you had a moment to recollect yourself, he dove back in, sucking on your lips till they bruised and swelled and brushing his hands against your ear, knowing that the touch made you shudder and buckle at the knees. even when your legs gave way, he didn’t relent, and you had to gasp out a “it hurts!” for him to pull away. you watched as he let up, and when the two of you were face-to-face, that wild glint you saw earlier was still apparent in his eyes. but his usual lazy smile returned as he apologized and rubbed at the spot where the car door handle was digging into your skin.

you can’t seem to recall your return home, and even then, you only remember jo haphazardly unlocking his door as you clawed at his t-shirt to take it off. you were still oblivious then to what the night actually held in store.

you’re brought back to the present when jo’s arm suddenly wraps around the front of your shoulders and chest and heaves you up. now, your back is arced backwards, and the slight shift in angle causes you to mewl in pleasure. you’re starting to see white spots in your vision with the way his thick cock stretches your walls apart and pokes at new spots in you that you’ve never discovered yourself.

between pants, jo gulps and asks, “what are you thinking about? am i that bad?”

you want to object, but then he gives you a harsh slap to the ass cheek with his other hand that effectively silences you.

“princess, i won just for you, so give me some attention, yeah?”

you manage to choke out, “for me?” jo reaffirms by pulling almost all the way out, leaving only his tip inside you, and then thrusting himself in again heavily with force so strong you feel it rattle throughout your body. you’ve always known your boyfriend is strong, but today’s fight and sex have exceeded your expectations. you cry out shamelessly and cum unexpectedly that even jo releases a guttural moan when your pussy clamps down on him, and he also finishes.

you collapse onto the bed. faintly, you hear jo apologize, “shit, sorry, babe. didn’t mean to cum inside of you.” he helps you roll over so that you’re lying on your back, and picks your legs up to slide you fully onto the bed. you think it’s the end.

but suddenly, the bed dips at where your feet lie, and your legs are pried apart. jo lines firm kisses along your inner thighs, and you whimper at the feeling of his fingers playing with your folds. he slides the fingertip of his index finger up and down between your folds, causing you to jolt whenever he flicks at your clit.

“jo…,” you whisper. you rest your hands around your boyfriend’s neck, holding onto him in hopes of grounding yourself.

“how about one more, babe? just one more,” he pleads, transfixed at the sight of your messy, wet pussy. his want hasn’t been satiated. he needs to feel you one last time. he begs again, “i won’t put it in, i know you’re sore. i’m going to clean you up, alright?”

the feeling of his warm tongue against your hole erases all of your thoughts and concerns. he’s careful, aware that you’re spent and overstimulated, and he laps at the mixture of his and your cum spilling down and onto the sheets. when he feels your body tensing up, he pauses and presses feather-light kisses instead as he waits for you to relax once more. he then mouths at your folds, sucking one into his mouth and licking softly, then switching to the other. you’re both moaning at the sensation – you because every suckle brings you closer to your high and him because you taste, smell, and feel so sweet and delicious against his tongue. finally, he reaches the top and spreads apart your lower lips with two fingers, admiring the sight of your pert clit throbbing in anticipation and need.

you groan, eager and impatient, when jo stares for too long. you scratch at his undercut to get his attention and whine, “jo, hurry! want your mouth on me!”

obediently, he dips down and gingerly kisses your bud. you shiver at the light touch and cant your hips upward, urging him to continue. jo resumes, alternating between gentle pecks and quick sucks of your clit, which leaves you writhing and compounds your arousal. occasionally, he even hums, and the vibrations pinch at your bud and you yelp in surprise every time. you’re no longer holding onto his shoulders – you’re grabbing and tugging at the curls of your boyfriend’s hair and pressing your clit against his mouth and nose, desperate for release. jo supports your movements as his large, calloused hands cup your ass. lastly, jo adds in his tongue. the erratic, unpredictable switching between all of the different ways he can tease your oversensitive nub quickly sends you over, and as you scream and cum, your thoughts are fully consumed with the sensations of his mouth drinking up your release and his nose nudging against your clit to extend your climax. you’re wantonly rubbing yourself against jo, smearing your pussy messily against your boyfriend’s face, and your eyes roll back as he just takes it and laps at what he can.

“you’re so fucking good to me, princess,” he moans into your pussy. from his words, you feel one last crashing wave of your orgasm, pleasure overwhelming you for a little longer, before it begins to subside.

seeing that you’re coming down from your high, jo pulls away. he licks at his lips, savoring the remnants of your high, and watches as you begin to drift off. jo himself is finally feeling the drowsiness and settles next to you.

even as you’re losing consciousness, he whispers, “this is the best reward, baby.” you nuzzle into his warmth, mumble something incoherent, and fall asleep.

[chaosgremlinmunson]

As inspiration for this douchebaggery in my DMs on Facebook, here's Steve being a bitch to someone who clearly paid zero attention and had no respect for his relationship.

👇 The inspiration is below 👇

Steve opened his laptop while he let his newest niece nap away on the new ottoman. She'd grabbed her tiny stuffed turtle, toddled up to him and said, “night, night” in her adorable munchkin voice, and Steve was done for. His ovaries, though long forgotten, wanted to explode immediately. He wondered if the hormones would affect the possibility of him carrying his own child for he and Eddie.

Speaking of Eddie, Steve looked back to his laptop and saw a notification for Facebook, the one social media he frequently used to keep in touch with his found family after they'd scattered to their colleges and new lives. He opened it curiously thinking maybe one of the kids had messaged him and found a girl he didn't know instead. He clicked her photo looking through her profile to see she was friends with about half the people he knew, so he chose to be friendly.

Eventually the messages veered from asking how he was doing, and how nice it was to meet him to flirtatious messages. He cringed reading it as he'd already mentioned his husband a good twenty times within the beginning of this conversation. To get a message saying, “so..are you single or happily married?” Made him want to reach through the screen and shake this girl. Hell, his profile has a profile picture of him and Eddie making out, his bio stating his infinite love for both his wonderful husband and their fur babies, Roscoe, Angel, and Thresher. How and why did this girl not realize he was happily married? In true mean girl Steve fashion he answered the video call she tried to send, his face that haughty mask he shone in during King Steve's reign in Hawkins high.

“Hello?” He said, sounding annoyed, “Is there a reason you called me?”

“Yeah, I thought it'd be nice to see your handsome face.”

“Look, sweetie,” he started, the absolute disdain clear in his voice and on his face, “If you used the last two brain cells you hadn't fried with all the bleach in your head, and actually, I don't know, read my bio on my profile or even my messages, you'd realize that A) I am happily married. B) I have mentioned my husband literally everywhere. C) My husband is absolutely the one for me, and way hotter than any bleach blond bimbo in my inbox, and D) which is rather appropriate for this, I prefer dick to pussy, so unless you're hiding something under that street walker wear in all your photos I wouldn't consider you even if I was single. Now, have a blessed day and lower your expectations when you speak to people. Or hell, pay attention to the signs around you.”

The girl was staring at him, her jaw dropped as he ended the call and blocked her. Eddie walked in just a moment later to Steve glaring at his laptop like it personally offended him and leaned down kissing his neck as Dustin and Erica followed behind to collect Stefania aptly named for the best big brother the party could ask for.

Once they were alone Steve pushed Eddie down into the couch straddling him, his tiny shorts riding up as he ground down on the sizable bulge beneath him. Eddie grinned up at him, he knew Steve was frustrated about something, but for now he'd take him apart in all the best ways and put him back together. If he wanted to vent about it later Eddie would be all ears.

[tabbedtabby]

calamitous love and insurmountable grief

johanna mason x reader

summary: On a hard grieving day for you, you recall an old holiday celebrated centuries before Panem.

a/n: valentine’s day oneshot!!! happy valentine’s day! inspired by a round of frantic fanfic me and my friends did (ty ruby) and the title is a lyric from the lakes by taylor swift bc i barely slept and don’t want to think of anything better. implied fem reader

cw: cringe 😓

words: 1.9k

——————————————————————

Your head lies limply on Johanna’s lap, your face expressionless as you stare deeply into nothing in particular. It was just one of those days for you. One day you’d wake up and be completely fine, skipping down the tile to the shops that make up the streets of District 7. The next, the memories would come surging back twice as strong and ferociously crippling as the last. The images of the dead stained under your eyelids; family, friends, even the soldiers you’d hardly taken the time to know during your fight against the Capitol. Some lost to your own hands, but most to Snow. It seemed impossible to think that he couldn’t reach you here, trying your hardest to forget about the Hunger Games and the war and the people you’ve lost. You’ve been trying to enjoy the little things again in this past month, taking a train out to District 7 with your girlfriend after Snow was assassinated, if you could call it that, really. Swarmed by the mob after Katniss’ arrow found Coin’s heart instead.

It happens to Johanna, too, so she gets it. She simply rests one hand in between the strands of your hair, her fingers brushing through the pieces as she fights with her own memories. She never knows quite what to say with these things, how to help. Often she opts for silence. She hasn’t cared for someone like this in so long. But Johanna has come to learn that her touch helps you more than words ever could. The feeling of her hands stroking your hair calms you, sedates that awful feeling that always seems to rise up into your throat like bile. It hasn’t taken long for her to learn how to calm your fears with just one simple touch, even if it’s something that goes unspoken between the two of you. Like a covert oath held together by the most lenient of hands, gentle fingers that have a tendency to care. Johanna’s touch is the type that draws all of the emotion out of you, like a magnet to its opposite end. Her hands absorb your fear and lead your mind to simpler things. A lantern in the dark, the only star in a polluted sky. Your mind wanders as you try to remember what you wanted to say to her.

“Did you know that before Panem, there was this holiday? About love. And you’d buy stuff for them. Like, your lover. It was called Valentine’s Day. Reading about it always made me wish I was alive back then.” you say, your brain reeling back to all those history books you’ve been reading to pass the time. You can almost feel Johanna’s eyebrow raise above you.

“Who wouldn’t? Worrying about stupid shit like that instead of getting reaped for a death match,” Johanna sneers, although the ferocity in her words isn’t directed at you. It never is. She’s always seemed to have a soft spot for you in that way.

“Yeah… it would have been today, you know. February 14th.” you say hesitantly, and your mind wanders back to those pages. The stores with the synthetic white lights overhead that illuminate the rows of heart-shaped boxes filled with chocolate delicacies. You’ve only ever had chocolate in the Captiol because of just how expensive it is. You’ve never been able to wrap your head around the idea of it being sold for so cheap, so common that it was purchased by millions to offer to their lovers. How simple their world seems to you. So different from the Panem you know. The Panem that condones violence, prejudice, the slaughter of children. But that Panem is one of the past now, too. Maybe humankind could return to such a silly holiday that revolves around love and stupid things like chocolate and flowers. Maybe Panem could finally heal after all the damage that was dealt.

Suddenly, you shoot up from Johanna’s lap, an idea forming in your head. Johanna just stares at you expectantly as you attempt to sort your thoughts into comprehendable words. Usually, it’s to no avail, but you need these words to reach Johanna’s ears right now or you’re going to explode.

“We should celebrate! We can both go out into town and get a gift for each other. It doesn’t have to be traditional, or anything too fancy. But I want to get you something. We can just pretend we really did live back then, before Panem. Before any of this.” you say, pushing the words out excitedly at the thought of celebrating anything at all, really. The aftermath of the war has been heavy and overbearing. There hasn’t been much room for fun or excitement or any of the childish feelings receiving a gift entails. This prospect is what has your eyes looking expectantly up at Johanna, on the edge of your seat for a response from her.

“Sounds stupid, but fine. Only because you look like you’re about to throw up.” Johanna decides, rolling her eyes, but you can see the small smile on her lips when she stands up. The excitement fizzes in your stomach as soon as the words leave her mouth. Something to look forward to! Not only that, but you get to give a gift to Johanna in return. This was the best thing that’s happened to you probably since you saw the life leave Snow’s eyes. Your life was filled too much with remorse and grief for your liking; even this small celebration was sure to bring some light back to your world.

Johanna is someone special. The only person left on this earth you’re sure you love. She’s not just anyone to bestow a gift upon, she’s Johanna Mason, for fuck’s sake, so you have to make sure you buy something meaningful. Something that she’s sure to cherish until her dying days. You sling some coins in your pocket and head out the door, heading in the opposite direction as Johanna into town so that you don’t run into each other while buying the gifts. Although, you’re both pretty famous around here so you doubt the shopkeepers will actually charge you for anything. The entirety of the country knew you as survivors of the Hunger Games, so most typically go pretty easy on you and Johanna. Even if their pity makes Johanna want to tear their limbs off one by one.

Your excitement shows by the way your feet bound you out onto the streets, taking quick glances at all of the shops open in the middle of the week. But as you bounce down the tile, you suddenly slow and realize you have no idea what a meaningful gift for Johanna would actually be. Being so soon after the war, chocolate was out of the question. Flowers were too simple; hell, if Johanna wanted flowers, she could have picked some in your yard herself. You think of getting something to aid her hobbies, but she doesn’t have many hobbies really except for cutting wood with an axe, and she’s already got plenty of those.

You begin to feel a bit defeated now as you wander around town, your bag of coins still clutched unused in the palm of your hand. You haven’t known Johanna for too long, but you thought you at least knew her better than this. You almost turn around until your eyes catch on the blacksmith shop.

On the front of the stand hangs an axe that must be completely forged out of metal, the sleek black and silver parts illuminated by the sunlight. It’d be impossible for it not to catch your eye walking down the path, the way that it shines in the very front of the stall. It must be a premium, because you’ve never seen an axe with a steel handle like that before. It’s heavy, sure, but Johanna’s managed to rebuild a lot of the muscle she lost when captured by spending so much time hacking away at firewood. Now that you think about it, the axes she uses must be older than she is because when she comes back home, you always have to fish splinters out of her fingers with your tweezers. As soon as that shiny, new titanium reaches your eyes, your coins are practically already in the blacksmith’s pockets.

No matter how much of your trauma was broadcasted on national television, a weapon like that is going to cost you a fortune. But the blacksmith recognizes you and offers to put something on the handle for free. You watch intently as he carves you and Johanna’s initials onto the handle with a small, neat heart on the end. Just the sight of it makes your lips raise in a smile with pride.

On your way back to Victor’s Village, you pick up a small box for the axe and buy some red ribbon to wrap around it, just for added effect. When you arrive home, Johanna’s already waiting outside for you, a larger, flatter box slung under her arm. She looks a bit bored, but her green eyes catch on you as you approach.

“Sorry. Took me forever.” you mutter through your grin as you walk up to her, already placing your box in her hands. Johanna smiles similarly, her lips a small smirk as the sunlight catches in her eyes. You can see the small flecks of brown in her eyes, a brighter green in the light than typical. Her hair has grown back curlier than before, the wavy strands ending just below her ears. You miss the red streaks in her hair. You wonder if she will dye them again once hair dye begins to be produced and sold again.

When Johanna takes the box from your hands, it’s almost like she can recognize the weight of an axe instantly. Growing up in District 7 will do that. ��Nothing light, huh?” she grins, her eyebrows raising a bit knowingly as she tostles the box around a bit, hearing the metal slosh against the cardboard of the box. You can’t help but think she looks beautiful like that, with the sun dappled over her skin. You watch her almost distractedly until she hands you the box she had kept under her arm.

“Here, before I open mine.” Johanna says, her smirk widening just a bit as she looks at you intently. You smile back up at her as you take the box from her hands. It’s quite flat and almost weightless. You nearly drop it from expecting something heavier. You look up at her in question, and she just tells you to open it again. You roll your eyes, but the smile doesn’t leave your face as you gently take the top off of the box.

Your brows furrow in confusion as you slowly take your hand to touch the fabric in the box. It’s a piece of clothing. You gently unfold it, letting the box fall to the floor. It’s a dress, originally white, but cream around the edges with age. But it’s clear it’s well cared for, not a single stitch missing or a piece of lace misplaced. It’s beautiful. You nearly gape your mouth in shock as you run your fingers along the white satin, the pattern forming small flowers, and it feels silky smooth beneath your touch. Your eyes raise back to Johanna, the emotion clear in your gaze as she looks back at you with pride in her small smirk.

“I looked into one of your history books. White for weddings, right?”

[storiesofsung]

Yuu OC - Mulan ⚔️

Pt1 An interesting concept

I’ve always been curious about the direction that TWST could go in regards to MC being a girl.

One of my favorite examples of this being this fic by DuckInSuits on Ao3

Now this inspired me to watch Mulan because it is one of the most famous “girl disguised as boy” story (other than OHSHC) that I know of.

Since literally almost everyone is twisted off someone (idk who Jack is tho) +the Disney references that make me cringe sometimes just because I know the existence of Disney, why not make the MC also twisted off something?

(lol Grim as Mushu tho imagine)

I just feel like the in canon MC does seem like the type of person to kind of work hard with what ingenuity they have since they live in a worn down building and pass classes they have zero prior knowledge on.

And they do kinda use their brains to figure out shit, especially with the overblots !!

Idk i just think it would be an interesting dynamic to work through

None of that liar arc tho, that usually stretches on too long but like… yk

I really enjoyed the fic because it made us connect with Cater (and I believe Ruggie?) in ways the normal canon didn’t explore. It made me empathize with them and actually be invested in their relationship with the MC. And I like how it shows just slice of life stuff like MC making pancakes in Ramshackle dorm/needing feminine pads.

Moments like these really give us a moment to stop and breathe to notice the story’s surroundings while making it believable and lived in. It balances out action and pure dipshitness.

Pt2 “Also I really like Mulans songs”

Honor to us all + Reflection

in regards to this while listening to Honor to us All, it actually made me think of a believable motivation for my said OC, she ran away because she didn’t want to get married, and didn’t want to pretend to be someone else just for her parents (and by extension society) to accept her

Now I know this motivation is more selfish than not wanting your elderly father to fight in a war but remember TWST characters ≠ their twisted counterparts. (Ex. Rollo is less pure evil than Frollo). And I think this could be an interesting motivation since her journey going to TWST could make the MC realize her actions and make her decide whether she did was right or wrong (=character development)

A Girl Worth Fighting For

You cannot make me believe every single man in an all boys school is 100% feminism core.

I think that’s where a girl worth fighting for could come in. (Deuce not included he is a feminist) but the 1st year friend group being a lil (while unknowingly) sexist in regards to how they see a female romantic interest, then later drinking respect women juice after realizing the strongest (they fought 6 overblots stfu yes they are) one in their fg is in fact a woman (and later apologizing to her lol)

Make a Man out of You

It’s self explanatory based on what I said earlier but I’m not sure who could be Shang in this song 😭😭. Personality based it’s either Vil or Riddle, Physically it’s Leona (he would not give a shit other wise), unless it’s for spelldrive)

Summary: Overall this is more of a Yuu not based on having a love interest, but as a character based on an icon (✨).

This has just been on my mind for a bit about an AU that I do not have the skills to write about l…but it’s for all you girlies who prefer pants over skirts and generally dont like to be categorized as feminine 🔥

[todayisawthewhxlewxrld]

"criminal intentions, she had Stolen Your Heart."

"i'd take a life for your love."

synopsis// when the tables turn and doma finds himself agreeing to worship you.

pairing// doma x gn!reader

word count// 2k

contents// angst? fluff? ooc doma probably (not even probably like i bet he is.. sad face), manga spoilers? but not important spoilers just his backstory, morally grey characters obviously....

notes// i need doma so bad you dont understand. and yes this is inspired by a song... todays inspiration is pineapple bride by anemoria... this shit kinda cringe ngl... i may be cringe but at least i am free. anywho yay! finally a demon slayer one shot!!

Doma lacked empathy; some could say he was just born without it, when in reality he was just never shown it. So how could Doma be expected to have something he was never given? at least that was until he met you.

For Doma, it had been another ordinary day—having people cry at his feet, worshipping a child like he was some kind of god as he gave them whatever advice his child brain could come up with. On the other hand, for you, it could also be said it was another ordinary day, but it was your new ordinary.

Just a few weeks prior, you had come home to find your family slaughtered—you obviously didn’t stick around, escaping to a nearby town only to find everyone there slaughtered as well. Since then, you’ve been mindlessly walking with no destination for the past few weeks, stealing things when needed, and somehow avoiding demons once night fell. But today was different; you could feel it, especially when you entered what you thought was an empty home only to find a boy staring at what you could only presume were his dead parents in a random room. He didn’t have a reaction, not even when you, a random child who seemed to have appeared out of nowhere, made yourself known to him.

“Oh my god?” You whisper breathlessly at the scene before you. You had seen countless people slaughtered, yet somehow you think this takes the cake in terms of gruesomeness.

“Couldn’t they have done this somewhere else? The blood is making the room stuffy,” Doma speaks blankly.

You weren’t phased by his apathy; obviously, he had to have gone through something to have made him this way in the first place. “You should go outside,” you say softly.

He looks at you curiously. “What?” 

Had you not already spent weeks on end finding slaughtered people and growing numb to death, you would not have offered what you’re about to offer at your young age: “I’ll clean this up, so it won’t be stuffy anymore.”

“What do you want?” he asks almost bitterly. “Are you going to cry at my feet for advice as well?”

You stare at him in bewilderment. “What? No, of course not. Why would I do that? I’m just trying to be nice.”

You almost miss how his face softens slightly. “Nice,” he mumbles to himself before offering his hand out to you, something he’d never dream of doing, but he supposes you could be an exception. “I’m Doma.” 

You take his hand hesitantly. “I’m Y/n.” 

From that day on, you and Doma had become inseparable. Where he went, you followed along, and where you went, he followed along. You considered him your best friend, and you liked to think he considered you his as well. Eventually, after spending so much time together, practically conjoined at the hip, it was only obvious that one of you was going to end up catching feelings, and you were the unfortunate one to do just that. You never dared to tell him, because although you were already special to Doma considering how he immediately befriended you and no one else, you weren’t going to try and push your luck out of fear that he’d end up seeing you as pitiful as the humans that worshipped him.

Then there had come a day where the two of you had run into someone who called himself Muzan, claiming he could grant Doma power and offering to turn him into a demon. Doma agreed in a heartbeat, but only if Muzan would turn you too, and you quickly agreed, even despite your past of seeing everyone slaughtered by demons, because you wanted a lifetime plus ten more with Doma. He was your best friend and the love of your life, so of course you would jump at this opportunity. After being turned, it seemed like you two were living your best lives together as upper moons, but that was quickly proven false when Doma started a new cult and you couldn’t stand it.

You couldn’t stand watching these women fawn over him only for him to eat them, and it’s not that you felt bad for them; it was that you felt jealous. So you pushed him away, and heartbreakingly to you, he didn’t make an effort to stop you, like he didn’t care, like you weren’t there for him since you two were kids, like he wasn’t about to beg Muzan to turn you had he said no. But what were you going to do? beg him so he could see you as just another who fawns over him? God no, you weren’t going to stoop to those pitiful humans level just for some impossible chance with Doma. and it was foolish of you to think that you were different from the start, that he would never do this to you, that this would never happen. but it did. So you left. or you tried.

Considering both of you were upper moons, whenever summoned, you were bound to run into him from time to time, and as much as you hated to admit it, even despite leaving him and going off on your own, you still loved him. and at first, whenever you would see him, you would have to stop yourself from practically jumping into his arms, but you learned to suppress that urge; you learned to keep your love for him locked away far beneath within your brain. Doma remained unaffected, at least at first. He had gotten so caught up in his little cult that he truly didn't even notice you left him for the first few months, but once he did, everything went to shit.

What Doma never cared to realize is that you were like air to him. extremely necessary but also extremely unnoticeable, so of course you don’t realize how much you need air until you're gasping for it, and that’s exactly what happened to him. He tried talking to you, but you kept your replies short, ending conversations just as quickly as he began them, and he didn’t understand. He didn’t understand what had happened; just months prior, you were practically glued to his hip, and now you’re reminding him too much of himself for his liking. He didn’t think you lacked complete empathy; he’s just beginning to think you're starting to lack empathy for him, which terrifies him.

Death doesn’t scare him, nor do some silly hashiras, but the idea of you treating him how he’s treated everyone else terrifies him. which is why he keeps trying to get your attention and keeps trying to make amends, and of course it doesn’t work because you’ve locked away any love you still have for him. Doma constantly found himself cursing his younger self for being so naive and not seeing how much you cared for him and how he cared for you just as much, if not more. It eventually all comes to a breaking point when you and Akaza have just come back from a mission, but only Akaza has walked through the doors and you are nowhere to be found. Doma immediately approaches Akaza, someone he considered to be his best friend (after you, of course), and annoys him about you.

Doma throws his arm over him. “I was super worried about you guys!” he says. “You’re my precious buddies; I don't want anyone here to wane out now!”

“Move your arm,” Akaza replies blankly.

He ignores his request. “Mind telling me where y/n is?”

Akaza ignores him and instead punches him, which of course doesn't phase Doma at all.

“Nice punch!” Doma compliments him as he wipes the blood off his face; his wound is already immediately healing itself. “So about Y/n?”

Akaza rolls his eyes and points toward the door. “Outside somewhere, can you leave me alone now?”

“Thank you, Akaza!” he beams before practically bolting out the door.

Doma quickly finds that you aren't out here, or at least not anywhere near, so he ventures out into the surrounding forest only to find you sitting under a tree. You lift your head at the sound of footsteps only to drop it again when you realize who it is.

“Go away, Doma,” you groan.

He perks up. “Glad to see you’re still alive!”

“What part of go away don't you understand?” You snap, glaring at him.

“Why do you hate me?”

“What?“ You laugh in disbelief because, in your mind, Doma didn't care, and you brushed off all his previous attempts to make amends as just something he did to ease the obvious tension between you two when in the same room and not because he actually cared.

Doma frowns. “I'm trying!”

You stare at him in complete bewilderment as you stand up and approach him, wanting to be face-to-face with him. In all honesty, you're partially trying to intimidate him to see if he’s bluffing, but you can’t see even a hint of insincerity in his face, and it makes your blood boil.

“For once?”

“Why are you acting like this? Why do you have to get so angry at me?”

“What? You mean acting like you?” you scoff. “I'm just playing a game you laid out for me, Doma.”

“I know,” he sighs in defeat. “So, Y/n, just tell me what I have to do to fix it... Please.”

You stare at him wide-eyed, your jaw clenched tight. You can't let him get to you, he's lying, he doesn't mean any of this.

Doma takes a step closer to you, your chests about to touch at this point. “Tell me, I’ll do it. I’ll do anything.”

“Yeah right.” You roll your eyes and scoff as you try to take a step back, but Doma grabs you by your arms and holds you in place.

“I’m serious.”

Your eyes bore into him intensely, taking his words as a challenge. “Fine. If you’re so serious, worship me for a change.”

You don’t say this with the intention of him taking you seriously; you don't think he actually will; you want to catch him bluffing; you don't want to think that maybe he does reciprocate your feelings and that he is actually really willing to do anything for you.

“Done,” Doma replies immediately as he drops to his knees in front of you faster than you can comprehend, he didn't even need to think about it.

“Doma-“

“What else?” he asks, looking up at you with a sickly sweet smile.

“Get up!” you say quickly, avoiding his unwavering gaze. The sight of him on his knees for you is proving to be too much.

“You wanted me to worship you; I'm doing it.”

You breathe out heavily, your body growing far too warm for comfort, and you’re sure if he stays there any longer you might actually start believing him and give into your love for him again. “I'm sure you do this with all of your little cult members. Now, get up.”

Doma grabs your hand, which catches your attention. You meet his gaze, which has still been on you this whole time, while he brings your hand up to his mouth and places a chaste kiss on it. “Don't be foolish; you’re the only one.”

You swallow harshly. There goes any resolve you had on not giving in to him. “Get up, Doma,” you say softly, not bothering to take your hand out of his.

He hums at your change of tone and listens, his hand still holding yours. “So?”

“So what?”

He smiles and gives your hand a slight squeeze. “Am I forgiven?”

“No, not yet," you sigh. "You still have to work for it. You took me for granted, Doma.”

He hums, and you expect him to frown or protest, but he doesn’t; he simply nods.

Doma places another chaste kiss against your hand as he mumbles,

"Like I said, I’ll do anything."

You attempt to hold back a smile but fail miserably.

"I like the sound of that."

©TODAYISAWTHEWHXLEWXRLD

[touloserlautrec]

Get To Know Your Moots Writeblr Interview

Thanks for the tag, @mk-writes-stuff (here) and @ceph-the-ghost-writer (here)!

The question template by @davycoquette is here!

On the Tumblr Writing Community

How long have you had your writing Tumblr/Writeblr? Uh... Hmm. Me and time measurement don't mix great. Haha maybe about a year ish?

What led you to create it? My partner/co-writer, @sunset-a-story pulled me in and I'm grateful they did! I'm always resistant to joining social media sites, but this one was well worth it.

What’s your favorite thing about the Writeblr community? All the kindness and interaction. It's the one place on the internet I feel like I'm interacting with real humans and engaging with creativity anymore, rather than just shouting into the void. It's a great community.

What’s one thing you’d like your mutuals to know about you? I am an introvert with a deeply people-focused job, so sometimes I don't interact as much as I'd like to because of The Tired. But I love seeing your posts and reading your stories and thinking about your characters!

Is there anything you’d like to see more of on your dash? I pretty much always want more stories and characters and art. There is plenty of it on my dash, but I am a glutton for blorbos and stories.

What tips/advice do you have for someone who made a Writeblr today? Don't be afraid to comment, reblog, send asks-- I was super nervous about that at first because on other sites it can be a minefield, but the writeblr community is wonderful!

WIP it Good

Which Works-in-Progress (WIPs) or writing projects are you noodling about, lately? Pretty much I'm working on Sunset all the time. It's the only WIP I'm actively writing/editing and I'm rotating it in my head for most of my days. But I do have a handful of OCs from other stories/'verses that live strictly in my brain. Lately, that's included an alien Mech pilot named Lux; a head-empty reincarnation of a trickster fae, named Axel; and a reluctant superhero who travels through people's dreams, named Piper.

How long have you been working on them? I've been working on Sunset with @sunset-a-story for about 17 years. The last several years (8, by their count) it's been more seriously dedicated writing. Axel has lived in my head for probably a decade, and Lux is less than a year in. Piper came into being a couple weeks ago.

Do you remember what inspired them/what got you started? Sunset started as a TTRPG that grew into a much larger story. It definitely had anime influences at the time and has evolved from there.

How much time, in your best estimation, do you spend thinking about them? If I'm not focusing on work, then... all of it.

When someone asks the dreaded, “What do you write about,” question, what do you usually say? I have a bad habit of downplaying it that I'm trying to break, so usually it starts as something like, "A silly genre serial," and then I try to course correct to something like, "It's a science-fantasy serial about people with powers, corrupt, problematic corporations, and espionage, with romance and horror elements and lots of intertwined storylines."

What do you want to say (if it’s different from what you do say)? I'd like to, without cringing, just be like "Listen, it sounds bananas but it's like the best dump cake you ever ate. It's so delicious. It has everything. It has super powers, it has deeply flawed and morally grey characters, it has horrible cannibal vampires and people who hunt them, it has cult-like corporations, it's queer and diverse as hell, there's romance and steamy scenes, and it has SPIES. It's hilarious sometimes and devastating others. It will hurt your feelings. You'll love it."

Let’s Rotate Blorbos

Name any characters you created. Listen, our cast is enormous enough that we have a Dramatis Personae. So Instead of listing them, here's a link to my art, which is 99.9% exclusively of our OCs.

Who’s the most unhinged? Sunset's cast falls into one of three categories: OCs I created, OCs @sunset-a-story created, and OCs we both created and the origin is murky at best. I'm gonna choose one that I created here-- Emmett. He pretty much an unhinged, driven, competitive hurricane.

Who comes the most naturally for you to write? Alex. Alex is my baby and is the closest to my heart. He was the first character in Sunset I created.

Do you ever cringe at them? Oh, all the time. They don't make good choices, but that's how you build a great story.

How much control do you feel you have over your characters? Only some. They mostly take off themselves. I just kind of get a seed of imagination germinating and see where it grows.

Do you enjoy people asking questions about your characters? YES. I love asks, reblogs, tags, comments... Being a writer/artist/creative online feels like shouting into an empty void most of the time, so when I get a comment or a reblog or an ask it's like the biggest battery charge for me. It's easy to get discouraged, so those moments are life savers sometimes.

On Writeblr Engagement

What makes you want to follow another Writeblr account? If their WIP seems to vibe with me (especially science-fantasy, queer, romantic, dark stories), if they post a lot of their own work and reblog other original creators' work, if there's art involved too, or if they generally seem like someone I'd vibe with.

What makes you decide against following? Usually it's either because a blog is too dedicated to fandoms I don't know, or if it's all just reblogs of memes--then it depends on the vibe. But the biggest reason I don't follow is, unfortunately, that I get tired and can't focus enough to scope new people out. BUT I do keep tabs on new blogs in my activity notifications to come back to and check out when I've recouped some energy.

Do you interact with non-mutuals often? ...Maybe? TBH I forget sometimes who are moots and who I just follow. I interact with people that seem neat and friendly and I'm brave enough to try. Some of them are for sure moots. Some of them aren't. And then there are those who seem really cool and I need to build up confidence enough to interact with more than just liking and reblogging. Which is silly, because almost all of us say all the time that we love interaction from others, so...why do we let anxiety do this to us??

Do your mutuals’ characters occupy space in your noodle? YES. BLORBOS. I think about them regularly. It's the best.

I'll gently tag @revenantlore @littlemoondarling @scribe-of-stories and open tag!

[the-s1lly-corner]

Flirting with Ragatha

gonna write this then imma take a break because someone hit me with the "the bits in your thighs are going to ache for no reason" spell + i need to make breakfast </3 i think i might make some posts and que them since i got a lot of art wips i need to get finished and im kind of struggling between bouncing doing art and writing... on one hand que posts will let me have that unbroken focus on my art since i wont have to worry about juggling blogs... but on the other hand writing helps my brain... hmmm... and i also run the risk of forgetting to put something in the masterlist... i think i might try it just for today, after i stretch my legs and eat ill write up a post or two and schedule it to come out in a few hours

i think she would like classic romantic gestures such as being given roses or sweets...

i guess titling these posts as flirting isnt accurate since its generally just what gets them flustered rather than pick up lines and verbal flirting.. unless its the same thing.. shrugs

keeps a vase in her room specifically for the flowers you give her, if this is a real world au she keeps the vase in a main living area instead!

hold her hand while you guys walk, swing it a little. something that small is going to get her all soft and gooey, shes going to have this little smile on her face the entire time you guys are walking around

cringes a little at those dumb and cheesy pick up lines but theres still a love for them in there inside her, juuuust barely behind her thinned mouth and squinted eyes after you drop the most cringe line you can muster

i think she would have a secret love for those silly/funny/cheesy celebration cards, so give her those if you want to brighten her day

i like to think she keeps all the cards youve given her, too... handmade or otherwise!

speaking of handmade, gift giving is a big thing for her so throw that into the mix if you wanna melt her heart.. you get bonus points if you made it yourself

you make pick up lines inspired by her sewing and crafting stuff, shes gonna roll her eyes but her smile says it all

oh shes definitely the type to blush hard

like to her ears and neck hard, shes going to be completely pink all over but only when you do it/do something that REALLY gets her

thinks

oh she would definitely shoot some lines back

you guys wont go back and forth like other characters do with their own partner, but shes definitely returning the energy

[scribe-cas]

Get to Know Your Moots Writeblr Interview

(Tagged by @scribe-of-stories :> the fact that "the scribes" is a thing sparks so much joy you don't even get it /pos)

On the Tumblr Writing Community

How long have you had your writing Tumblr/Writeblr?

Like approximately a year and 2 weeks. Ish

What led you to create it?

It started off as literally my main blog but I post so much about my characters that I just. It's basically just a writing blog now because I'm too insane about my own series

What’s your favorite thing about the Writeblr community?

PEOPLE RAAHHHHHHHHH

Also the fact that people here are normal about villains and like.. media that isn't scrubbed of any substance. Cancel culture and Hays code my detested <3

What’s one thing you’d like your mutuals to know about you?

Please talk to me about my characters please please please please ask me stuff I swear asks light up my mind and I don't bite no question is a dumb one

Also if you like couteau I'm eating you alive /affectionate /positive

If you're new here you'll see my obsession with cou knows no bounds. Being told to go write about him motivates me to no end. I will get you guys a book I just wanna write about him HORFUSHUFAHSHD

Is there anything you’d like to see more of on your dash?

OCS. GIVE ME YOUR OCS. I KNOW THIS IS WRITEBLR BUT I WANNA SEE THEM. IF YOU DONT HAVE ART OF THEM I'LL MAKE YOU ART OF THEM DAMNIT.

What tips/advice do you have for someone who made a Writeblr today?

Babe i don't know what I'm doing let alone advice for other people. Um I guess be insane about your projects. Don't be afraid to not take yourself seriously, and enjoy working on your WIPs. People talk about how oh writing is supposed to be self reflective writing is supposed to be about learning about others- my writing is a joke to me and everyone around. If it ends up being something else later on that's great but right now no its whatever i think would be funny rn.

WIP it Good

Which Works-in-Progress (WIPs) or writing projects are you noodling about, lately?

Blood is sweeter than silence my beloved....

How long have you been working on them?

6 years actually writing (2 drafts of mine were deleted by negligent roommates so I've had to completely restart) but about 10 since I started thinking about it

Do you remember what inspired them/what got you started?

Literally a million things. But also it mostly just kinda came from my own brain. Everything I've ever experienced has shaped it.

How much time, in your best estimation, do you spend thinking about them?

It never leaves my mind. Literally ever. Ask my wife it's literally all I talk about

When someone asks the dreaded, “What do you write about,” question, what do you usually say?

"Oh I'm really dabbling in slasher-comedy recently" /voice of a man who is so proud of the genre 'slasher-comedy'

What do you want to say (if it’s different from what you do say)?

Honestly slasher comedy is pretty accurate. It leaves out the rampant implications of demon horniness but that isn't technically relevant to the plot

Let’s Rotate Blorbos

Name any characters you created.

Amara (Ami), Seamus (Gambit), Couteau, Sally, Rix, Ally, Lainey, Varasha- the list goes on

Who’s the most unhinged?

Rix when it comes to like being actually impaired in the brain but Couteau when we're talking just. Nuts. Like when a character just is that way because they can be.

Who comes the most naturally for you to write?

None of them ever /lh, it is ALWAYS a struggle

Do you ever cringe at them?

No I find them hilarious if I'm being honest. They do some cringefail shit and I just laugh

How much control do you feel you have over your characters?

They are writing this shit. I am just witnessing and occasionally figuring stuff out from subtext.

Do you enjoy people asking questions about your characters?

GOD YES. LITERALLY ANYTHING. RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Literally even just like poking me on what WIPs I've got going on will spur me into it I love knowing there are people who want to see the scene im working on when it's done. Or sometimes I write fanfiction that's kinda canon adjacent? And if you also wanted to see that I'd kiss you on the mouth /pos

But God yes I love talking about them. I will explain stuff over and over again to every new person ever I love you questions about my characters

On Writeblr Engagement

What makes you want to follow another Writeblr account?

There is no criteria. If you post and I like the thing you posted, you get followed

What makes you decide against following?

... show me your stuff or I can't see it and know how cool it is and follow you. If you show me nothing then nothing you will receive

Do you interact with non-mutuals often?

Yes! But also no because I barely manage to interact on here at all sometimes /lh

Do your mutuals’ characters occupy space in your noodle?

Yeah I rotate Ela and Kei around in my head pretty regularly

And every Michael ever made by @sandranetta13

I interact with ink and myth on a daily basis tho /lh

Anyways open tag other than for you two fuckers I'm making it mandatory @daughter-of-inklings @mythie-and-mages

[queenofthursday6599-blog]

You know sometimes something will happen in fandom that feels not quite racist but still iffy and I never know if I should say something or ignore it because it never seems intended to be racist.

The not quite racist thing that inspired me to make this post is actually a crossover au.

Specifically the Paulina Sanchez (from Danny Phantom) and Damian Wayne (from DC Batman) are twins au.

Which feels vaguely racist because I feel like the root of the au is that Paulina and Damian have skin tones close to the same color, green(ish in Paulina's case) eyes, and black hair.

Even though Paulina is latina and Damian is a mix of middle eastern, chinese, and white.

And it's mainly the twin version of the Damian and Paulina are siblings au that gives me this discomfort, because it seems like most of the people who write for this AU don't mention race swapping as part of the AU.

So my brain automatically goes "Ah yes, these twin children, one who is all latina, and the other who is middle eastern/chinese/white, who came from the coupling of a white guy and a middle eastern/chinese woman."

They don't even bring up Mr. Sanchez, Paulina's doting single father. No he's essentially reduced to just some guy or completely absent in these aus by the nature of the twin AU.

Especially versions where Paulina is raised along side Damian in the League.

Even though they could do the race swapping and make it interesting. Having Paulina being ethically arabian/chinese/white but raised in latino culture due to her latino adoptive father is interesting.

Heck making Bruce a Latino who's completely disconnected from his culture due to his parents dying when he was a kid and then being raised completely outside of Latino culture, with one of his kids being far more connected to their latino roots is interesting.

But no one ever seems to go those routes.

It's why I vastly prefer the half-siblings version of this au.

Where even if Paulina's mom is Talia Al Ghul, her dad is still doting papa Sanchez, and not Bruce Wayne.

Damian was grown in an artificial womb to be perfected as the League's future leader (and Ra's future meat suit), while Paulina was grown in Talia's womb as part as a long term undercover mission that involved her developing a civilian identity and living as a civilian for a few years while gathering information.

She married Mr. Sanchez and had Paulina under a false identity, and then when it was time to go back to the League faked her death.

Ra's didn't really care about Paulina's existence due to her birth outside of the League, and her being the daughter of just some random guy as far as Ra's was concerned.

Like Nyssa's kids and grandkids. Decedents of his who aren't part of the League are irrelevant until proven otherwise useful in Ra's mind. He full on let all of Nyssa's decedents get murdered in the holocaust because he cared so little about them.

If they aren't part of the League he does not care they exist unless he can use them in some way.

So in conclusion while I don't actually think the Paulina Sanchez and Damian Wayne are twins crossover AU is actually racist, it does make me cringe a little because if feels a bit like someone went "these two light brown skinned characters look similar enough. Why not have them be twins" and then thought nothing more about it.

And I feel like I don't get this weird feeling with the AUs where Danny and Damian are twins or full blood siblings because it feels like most of them mention Danny being race swapped to the same ethnicity as Damian, even if he's also said to be white passing (though not all of the stories make him white passing).

Though I tend to feel this way about most AUs where two characters who are different races are made full biological siblings and race swapping is no where to be seen.

Half siblings I can deal with, especially if it's not a stretch or impossible for the character to be multiracial already, because we never see one of their bio-parents.

Exactly how it is with Paulina (you thought my ADHD ass lost the plot didn't you). We never see hide nor hair of Paulina's mother in canon, she's never even mentioned actually, and while Paulina is the spitting image of her father, I'd 100% buy Talia Al Ghul getting married and having a baby as part of some kind of long term information gathering mission, and that baby being Paulina Sanchez.

So yeah, that's why I prefer the Paulina and Damian are half-siblings through Talia AUs over Paulina and Damian are twins AUs.

Also, protective older half sister Paulina who though raised fully civilian can make grown men cry using just her words, teaches her adorable grumpy little brother the correct way to do eyeliner and that the humble nail file is the ideal secret weapon is all I need in life.

Like I need Talia's head bitch in charge energy to be genetic. None of this, Paulina spent her early life in the League of course she's so cutthroat, nonsense, no she's just born like that.

[pintsizeninja]

I've been asking everyone #14 and #50, and I'll throw in #26 too :)

Thank you so much for the ask, Wendy!! 😍 (you totally should have asked me #22 😉)

14) What’s the biggest change in your taste between when you started in fandom and today?

Honestly? I can't even remember what my tastes were when I started in fandom. I kinda came of age when fan fiction was first making its way onto the internet. Back when I first got into fandom, things were really fragmented; I remember reading my first ship (it was, uh, a little problematic so I'm definitely not going to get into that lol) and then Mulder/Scully fanfic on sites made specifically for it, since fanfiction.net didn't exist yet. Beggars couldn't be choosers, so I remember reading everything.

My tastes are a lot more discerning now. I actually don't read a ton of fic these days, but I'm trying to change that and open myself up more to different ships and tags.

I really want to read more longfic. I've mostly only read one shots and when I'm specifically searching for smut for inspiration/reference, I try to keep my searches under 10k words so I know I'm missing a whole world out there.

50) Has writing fanfic had a significant impact on your life? Would you say it’s entirely positive?

I gave Riley a kinda long-winded response to this question, so I'll keep it (very) short this time 😂 It's had such a significant impact on my life this past year that I cannot imagine living life without it now!

26) What aspect of your writing do you most enjoy to see praised?

The emotions, man. My main job as a writer is to try and translate the things I feel in my chest and the images I see in my brain into words that make you, the reader, feel something. I want folks to experience something (hopefully positive!) when they read my writing. I do really, really love it when people comment on specific lines or turns of phrase, but feedback that my fic made someone laugh or cry or (probably in the case of Ragnarök) both makes my heart sing. I go on a pretty extensive emotional journey when I write, so hearing I took a reader on an emotional journey of their own brings me so much joy.

Obviously it's a bit different for smutty one-shots - there, I just hope to hear that the smut I wrote was hot rather than cringe, haha. Although you know me, I'm apparently incapable of writing smut without bringing emotion into it, so I guess it technically still applies there too.

[skitskatdacat63]

Back in my monthly depression era ig but. Thinking about social media and art, and how their relationship has fucked with me. I'm glad I started drawing fanart and I don't regret it. And I think I've really improved my skill this past half year plus. But man it gives me such a terrible complex. That paranoia of "who even would give a shit about this" and "when will people be done with me."

I think any artist always craves some recognition and praise no matter how much you say you draw for yourself. You can draw for yourself but it's still extremely gratifying and inspiring to have people's approval or thoughts on it.I used to draw for myself more and draw so much random art, but I discussed it a lot with friends and it made it more gratifying, to have that interest. And I lost that kinda, a lot. I feel like for a bit btwn losing that and drawing fanart, I can't really remember, I didn't draw as much bcs it just felt a bit unrewarded and it felt bleh.

And then I started drawing fanart. Which felt very rewarding. I'm happy I've not ever really felt the desire to make widely "appealing" art. If you look at even the first things I posted, it's extremely niche, and that's been a lot of fun! But it's also just made me so paranoid and self conscious. What if people get tired of this. What if people find it strange. What if people find it annoying. What if I'm being repetitive. Etc. It's really irritating bcs I KNOW people have told me they find my stuff interesting and that they like it. But my brain can't help but think, what is the expiration date on this, when will it become boring. I discuss my art with people and it's fun, but that self consciousness clings to me like a parasite. Like ah I better hurry this up and enjoy it while I can before they get annoyed and tired of it.

I guess this is all to say, I don't always like my relationship with art, and I hate the way social media messes with your brain. I remember for a bit I would post my art on Instagram and do the whole hashtag game. And then realized it was messing with my relationship with art so I dropped it. And then did the same thing with Twitter, than dropped it, etc. I just hate how I can't let myself enjoy anything. Idk maybe I'm just burnt out or something, but whenever I think of drawing lately, there's just this voice being like "what's the point of even drawing this, why would anyone care." I hate you evil voice in my brain!!!! It's not even a thing about notes, and I feel greedy even simply admitting any of this. I think it's more of a craving of a deeper connection and discussion. Which is what I always seek when I create art. But social media makes you think about numbers and attention and makes it unhealthy and makes you feel guilty for wanting something that's pretty reasonable.

Blah blah blah anyways don't reply to this like, oh you need to fix your relationship w art by taking a break from socmed! It's just this continual cycle and maybe one day I'll break it. But sometimes it just hits harder some days. I just want to stop feeling cringe. I hate it cause internally I'm like "I am cringe but I am free" but that only has to do with actually creating the stuff. Posting about it is the trap I think. Again though, it's natural to crave discussion and approval, but putting myself out there makes me want to curl up in a ball. I miss the days when I was younger and creating all kinds of random art and forcing it upon people with absolutely no shame. But now it's like. I toss my art into the room and shut the door and hide behind it with bated breath. And it often feels like any conversation I have just sates me for a tiny bit and then I go back to feeling empty. Is it ungrateful? Or is it just natural to want to keep having and partaking in a good thing?

Someone sent me advice on this feeling at some point, about how its better to talk to people individually rather than just on main. And I agree! I had a lot of fun the last third of last year. And for some reason it's just felt different ever since the new year began. I just don't know how to recover, and to start having fun like that again. I've drawn a lot of things I've immensely enjoyed since the year began, but for some reason, which I can't really parse, have had way worse self loathing and insecurity about it all. I just wanna recover my joy back :( is that too much to ask

Tldr; yay art improvement! Complex ideas! Much discussion! However: nay! Makes me feel cringe! Makes me feel like I'm running on limited time! Makes me crave too much!

[carpisuns]

I just wanna say I have an old post of yours saved in my drafts, about being a beginner artist…. I look at it sometimes to give me perspective and reassurance. Thank you. It has inspired me to continue my hobby/passion even if I don’t get many notes rn. I improve and I see it! Thats all that matters. Thank you. I hope I can be that for someone someday.

oh wow 😭 this just warmed my heart—thank you for sharing with me. i don't know what post you're talking about specifically, but i'm so glad that something i said could give you a little extra boost sometimes<3

it's both cool and sort of embarrassing that this blog is a record of my entire art journey. i didn't start learning how to draw until i got into ML and joined tumblr again about 3.5 years ago, so it has my very earliest art as well as my most recent. the other day my sister and i went through my art tag and i was literally crying with laughter at some of those pieces alskjdf (particularly this one). they're sooo bad but they were my best work at the time! as much as i cringe to look at them now, it's nice to remember how far I've come. There are still so many things I struggle with and things i disappoint myself about, but that's normal because I am still growing. no one stops growing. the artists you look up to the most, whose work seems absolutely flawless to you, are still growing.

and YOU are growing too! whether you feel like you are or not. sometimes it takes looking back to realize it. i'm really glad you can see your improvement! honestly, that's a skill too! having a healthy mindset about your own development can take a lot of internal work so I'm really proud of you for that.

(i got very rambly so cut for the rest lol)

and honestly sometimes the improvement isn't even about what the art looks like—it can just be about how you feel about making it. I think one of my biggest improvements in the last year was getting comfortable with drawing and sharing things that are Bad and Ugly! for example:

the first one i drew 3 years ago, just a few months into learning how to draw. the second one i drew about a month ago. they both have obvious flaws and you could even argue that the old one is better drawn than the newer one. so it's like omg did i not improve at all after over 3 years?? did i actually get worse? lol. no! because a lot of the improvement is internal.

you'll notice that the first one was done in pencil and the second one is pen. it took me years to feel confident enough to sketch in pen because you can't erase! you have to commit to the lines! you can actually see tons of erase marks in the first one, but i didnt even use my white-erase tape at all on the second one. also, the first one is a screen redraw. i was just looking at the image and trying to replicate what i saw the best i can. the second one is new scenes/poses that came from my brain—not that they are very complicated/impressive lol, but there's a difference there. and what you can't see at all is just my attitude about drawing them! i can't particularly remember doing the first one but i guarantee i spent forever on it and was nervous about posting it. second one probably took me 7 mins and i knew it was ugly but i was zero percent embarrassed about that lol. that's progress baby!! cant even tell you how much of a difference it has made to me to let myself draw ugly things. i draw ugly things all the time. some of them get posted online. some of them get shared with one or two friends. some of them get shared with no one. and i've finally learned how to either embrace them as what they are or just shrug it off and go, "you know, this is not it! moving on." blank pages are so intimidating because you have a million opportunities to mess things up, but you also have a million opportunities to explore and learn and experiment and have fun and also to surprise yourself with what you're capable of.

i started out with nothing but a pencil and some powerful blorbo brainrot, and that was enough! that has been enough to power me through years of all the struggles and triumphs that artists go through. it was enough to help me push through every art block and keep drawing to the point that my instincts have improved and things that used to be almost impossible for me are just regular hard lol. i've actually illustrated for a print magazine a few times now, and a few weeks ago i finished my first animatic—which i always wanted to do but didn't have the skill or confidence for.

sorry this is so long, i'm just very passionate about this subject lol!! i just want every growing artist to know that if you keep trying and having fun, improvement is not only possible but inevitable. like, you don't even have to do formal studies if you don't want to. keep looking at art that you like and figuring out what is appealing to you. keep drawing what you feel like drawing. if you're no longer inspired by a piece or it's a little too tough for you right now, it's ok to drop it. you can come back later or never. you have infinite opportunities to make new and better art. and don't forget to give yourself credit for the progress you've already made. it's so hard not to compare yourself to others, and literally everyone—even the best and brightest—feels bad about their work sometimes. but try to compare yourself to your past self and pat yourself on the back for your improvement! it's okay to grow slowly, or in a way that's not so visible on the outside. just remember that you are growing, and you will only get better and better.

also, side note about notes/likes: i know it sucks to feel like your work is not getting attention when you poured a lot into it :( this might sound rich coming from me because i feel that people have been incredibly generous toward my work from the very beginning. but just know that popularity is not really about who "deserves" what, and it's not an accurate reflection of skill either. so if you feel unseen, that doesn't mean your stuff sucks. and you never know what your work might have meant to the people who saw it, even if there aren't that many. art doesn't have to be popular to be meaningful, and it doesn't have to be perfect either.

the world is a little richer and more beautiful because of the ways you are growing and the things you are sharing. so thank you, and please don't stop.

[eriisaam]

You can probably guess what inspired this, but what I'm about to discuss talks about a pet who passed away, bullying and harassment, and fandom discourse esque drama. If you're at all sensitive to any of these, it may be best to just skip this post entirely. Don't worry about it. The long and short of it is I'm just venting. Hope you have a good day.👍

---

You've all probably seen what happened with that cat poll between Jellie and Nefarious Anglerfish by now. Even if it's been a bit since, with it coming up again, I still can't shake off some lingering resentments of this being one of many examples of something I've seen and bottled up for a while now.

What the fuck happened to us? To fandom lately? What the fuck made enjoying things and letting other people enjoy things and liking or disliking certain things that turned into some kind of fucked up litmus test of whether or not someone is an appropriate target to just turn off all senses and be a complete asshole to them?

And over nonsense things like liking something someone else didn't like, or thought cringe, or thinks is overrated, or whatever. What the fuck happened to "cringe culture is dead"? And when did it evolve into "This person is ok to completely shit all over cuz they like Roblox/Minecraft/Undertale/Among Us/whateverthehell and that's cringe"?

No, dipshit, you're still an asshole whether they or you like those things or not.

Like, I'm sorry. I hate drumming up this issue when at this point the issue is long since done, the dust had settled, and that OP of that poll straight up fucked off.

But what gets me is how easily someone can "unperson" someone else - just shut off their brains, remove all empathy and common sense, and say the most horrendously cruel shit without a second thought - treating them like they don't have feelings and it doesn't matter if they do anyways, and over what?

Cuz they play Minecraft and you don't? They like something you think is stupid?? And you make fun of their loss of their cat for "milking the attention away" with their death and derailing attention from another cat in a fucking poll nobody's going to give a shit about by the end of the week??? Cuz the "cringey minecraft player"s cat died at a time too inconvenient for your poll?!

Fuck you. I said it before and I'll say it again: fuck you.

Back when I was way younger, what's now happening to Minecraft used to happen to a lot of things.

Back then? It was liking cartoons in general.

Then it was liking anime specifically on top of liking certain cartoons.

Then it was liking the "lame" (read: "girly") anime like Cardcaptor Sakura, Fruits Basket or Sailor Moon over the badass ones like Dragonball Z, Gundam or Cowboy Bebop. There were constant rotating fights of which anime was "cool" enough not to get shit on for liking it. (And there's still that shit even to this day, let's be real.)

Then it was liking Pokemon. Then it was liking Digimon. Then it was Yugioh, or Beyblade, or whatever. Then there's being a furry. Then it was being a brony or even tangibly liking My Little Pony. Then Undertale. Then Steven Universe, or She-Ra, or whatever the fuck else. Sometimes it's just the one thing. Other times it's an entire genre.

On and on and on the goalpost will keep changing when the old "cringey" thing stopped being an acceptable target, and there's a new thing people completely unload on without a second thought.

Like I said before. I used to be a pet owner. I've had, and lost, pets over my lifetime.

Back then I would've also been in that camp of "easily acceptable target cuz people who like pokemon/digimon/anime are losers who deserve it", and I've been on the receiving end of that shit all my life in and out of fandom circles back in the day.

When I lost my cat, it already devastated me. And I can't imagine the kind of way that pain would've magnified if I was still trying to cope with that, tried to find escapism just hanging out online or browsing or whatever, and someone took my loss to make fun of me about it cuz I was some cringey loser who liked pokemon, so they felt I deserved the kind of words that they wouldn't dream to say to the face of someone actually "worth respect".

Because how dare my cat die on a date that inconvenienced them and ruined their good mood. Some cat nobody gives a shit about, cuz she belonged to a pokemon fan, and we all know pokemon fans are huge no-life losers who never get anywhere in their lives, amirite?

It didn't have to be specifically Jellie, or even specifically about Scar.

In that moment, I saw me, when I was younger, going through that shit that's the same bullshit then as it is now, and where kid-me would've broke down and spiraled worse than I already had, adult-me wants to drop a fucking meteor on a bitch.

I said unkind things and lost my cool and I'm sorry you all had to witness that. By virtue of this post, I'm sorry you're still witnessing it now.

But I'm just so goddamn tired of seeing it, and that's not even the only time I've seen that shit happen, time and again over similarly petty bullshit. It's Minecraft now for whatever the goddamn fuck reason, but it could be anything next once Minecraft and those who play it stop being cool to bully. I've seen it in public with strangers in passing just as I've seen it thrown in the face in private at people I know. I've seen this shit thrown at friends just as much I've still had it thrown in my face time and again.

It never fucking ends.

Why is the message always "it's ok to say whatever the hell I want, as long as they like something that's cool now to shit on them over"?

When did we somehow stop caring about "If you're being a thoughtless asshole, I don't care if they like [insert acceptable cringe target here], you're still an asshole."?

[guraveetee]

really love it when you see "you have already left kudos here. :)" and people will instantly go to the comments to send more hearts, more love to the author and the story. whether it's a long paragraph, a keyboard smash or a simple "you have already left kudos here, well I need to give more!!" comments, it makes me feel so, so warm!

some might feel like cringing or that it's "embarrassing" to leave long comments, but I smile when I read those because they are genuine and sincere. because huh? I really impacted your life? even if it's just for a few minutes, I made them feel. for just a moment, they were connected to the story. they were connected to me.

and it's amazing that there are stories that stays with us for years. I find myself referencing something from a fic and thinking, "huh, I should reread that." because i miss those times. staying up late when you have a busy schedule the following day, reading a simple one-shot, the next chapter, hitting kudos again and again in the middle of commute, stopping myself from cooing out loud or letting out a giggle, just because of the simple happiness of reading. the excitement of what's to come, on how they'll continue and finish it.

and I'm really grateful to authors that write these from something that is already loved. they'd be like, "haha, but what if...?" then put their time and effort and write something beautiful.

whether you need a good laugh or to just let out and cry, an epic adventure that is so different from the original story, you'll be wondering, "what the fuck is going on with this author's brain, this is amazing!"

they'd be moving on with their lives, going forward and maybe writing more, and I hope they know that they made someone smile. that they inspired someone to write.

especially those that write long, multi-chapter fics, I'll be bowing my head and kneeling in front of them. just the thought of the amount of research they put into it, I hope they know that it's well loved.

I'm a firm believer that you should write for yourself, to make something that you are proud of. but to know that it's liked, wow, I hope a simple thank you is enough, because somehow, the words aren't formulating right now.

just thankful to ao3 for existing. thankful to fanfiction sites for existing. thankful to wonderful authors for writing and sharing their stories. thankful to readers that leave a simple like, a simple heart, a simple comment, their token of appreciation that is gleefully and greatfully received.

[donationwayne]

Hi I don’t know how much crossover the 9-1-1 fandom and the 100 fandom have but —

my best friend (who I force to watch 911 with me 😇 she’s a Madney enjoyer) just finished her first ever chapter fic 🥺🥺 if you’re a Clexa enjoyer you should check it out

BABY YOUR A WORK OF ART || CLEXA || THE 100 || 60k

(SNIPPET)

“Lincoln,” Clarke shouted as she made it inside.

The menacing bald security guard broke out into a killer smile at the sight of his friend. He really was just a giant teddy bear. Clarke barreled into his open arms for a hug and giggled to herself at the juxtaposition that was his looks and personality.

“Hello, Princess,” he gruffed.

Clarke raised an eyebrow in feigned irritation, “You’ve been spending too much time with Octavia.”

He smiled sheepishly at being caught. Clarke just shook her head and held back a laugh. Those two were not as sneaky as they thought they were. Honestly, their fondness for each other was visible from space.

“Are you going to try and get some sketching done today?”

“That’s the plan,” she nodded and patted her art satchel hanging by her side.

Lincoln gave her the customary pass with the metal detector wand, checked her bag and sent her on her way with a wish of good luck. Clarke waved over her shoulder and headed down the halls to find the perfect spot. She wound through rooms and exhibits, taking her time to analyze the different pieces that caught her eye.

After passing through a few rooms, she settled on a colorful and interesting display of glass. It appeared as if the glass was running down in little rivers of blues and greens to meet in a pool at the bottom. Something in her heart tugged at the sight of it and she knew this would be the inspiration for her sketching today.

She sat down at the bench nearest the glass artwork and tucked her bag between her feet before removing her sketchpad and pencils. Biting down on the end of the pencil and gently twirling it between her teeth, she studied the piece to find the best place to start. Before too long her pencil was gliding across the paper etching lines as her fingers rubbed to smooth shading.

The phone vibrating in Clarke’s pocket caused her to jump. She had been so focused on the sketch in front of her that her surroundings had ceased to exist. She stole a few glances at passing patrons before checking her notifications. Raven had sent her a Snap. She opened it to find a photo of Raven’s newest experiment with the caption: Time to go boom!

Clarke shook her head and let out an exasperated laugh. She opened up the camera and started to take a selfie showcasing her graphite covered hand. Just as she snapped the photo she heard a throat clearing behind her.

“Excuse me, Miss? I do believe the posted signs ask that you not take photos of the artwork.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Clarke whipped her head around quickly and her gaze caught on beautiful forest green eyes. She nearly gasped at the girl arching a perfect brow in her direction. Clarke cringed as she continued to explain, “This is so embarrassing. I was actually just taking a selfie.”

“I know,” the brown haired, green eyed goddess replied with a smirk.

“I-,” Clarke gaped, completely unable to formulate a response.

Before she could come to her senses someone was shouting for the green eyed girl. She threw a wink over her shoulder and left Clarke still stunned, brain lagging like an early 2000s Dell desktop. Clarke shook her head to clear her jumbled thoughts and looked back down at her phone. Her selfie had managed to capture a blur of brunette hair. That really just happened, she thought to herself.

Clarke saved the photo to her library and clicked on her screen to add the caption: caught in the act. She sent it off to Raven and tucked her phone back into her pocket. She couldn’t wait to tell the girls about this.

ANYWAYS CLEXA BITCHES READ THIS AND FOLLOW HER AT @procrastinationstation101