#my friend wrote this

[skisc]

Traumatized Blondes Part 2

[frogsare-friends]

Domestic - Karissa Black

[i-am-thoroughly-confused]

“I am a child

I go through motions 

I take the yelling 

I take my life 

I take the holes 

in my heart

Why are you tearing me apart?

I try my best. 

I work 

I work 

I work 

All I get is 

“Okay, you did good.” 

Didn’t you see me work? 

I fall further down 

Yet I always smile 

You think I’m fine

But there’s a hole in my heart 

 My heart is empty, numb, and hurt 

So I use my head

When did I go to bed?” 

-Angelica

This is a poem my best friend wrote. Her name is Angelica. She writes a TON of poems. If you wanna see some more of hers than just tell me. (Also she would love some compliments. She didn’t ask for any but c’mon, she deserves it.)

[kristylime]

WWDITS Fanfic Recommendation

Continuing my series where I plug some other cool What We Do In the Shadows Fics that I have read and really enjoyed.

Spotlight on:

The Fur-Lined Cape by WeirdestVampire now @weirdestvampire (with assistance from Citrusking29)

Summary:

Nandor shows love in different ways…

This is a sweet little ficlet.

The story opens on a frigidly cold night with Guillermo engaging in the thankless task of attempting to bury some drained corpses in the frozen ground. With a dull and rusty shovel that is not equal to the task. Guillermo takes a brief break and is surprised by an unexpected source of warmth.

This fic was inspired by this fanart created by @autopsybarista (thank you for permission to post!!! Your art is lovely!!!)

The Slayer and his Master 

I think part of what I like so much about the story is its subtlety. And ambiguity. It’s a small moment that has the potential to be the start of something much bigger. Or not. After reading, I found myself pondering ‘what happens next?’ Did these two finally have a conversation? Talk about their feelings? Or did they just keep continue the status quo of mutual pining and stubborn silence?

In short, it got me right in the feels and then bounced around my brain like a superball.

Please stop by and give this a read! And if you enjoy, please show some love with Kudos and comments!

[fvretts]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: XO Kitty (TV) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Katharine "Kitty" Song-Covey/Min Ho, Mentions of possible Katharine "Kitty" Song-Covey/Yuri Han Characters: Katherine "Kitty" Song-Covey, Min Ho, Yuri Han Additional Tags: Unrequited Love, Rated teen just to be safe, Pre-Relationship, mentions of "doing more" wink wink Summary:

Kitty… I think I fell in love with you.

A little bit.

Okay, she could work with that. A little bit wouldn’t ruin the friendship that was blossoming between them.

But then, Min Ho just had to open his mouth and say more.

Or… a lot.

 --- Kitty has a lot of time to think about Min Ho's sudden confession.

[feralwetcat]

Can anyone say Happy birthday it was my kitten's first Birthday

Her name is Astro and she was eepin ^

[flytrap-3994]

bambi spoilers ig???

The cute deer movie that is fucking sad. Why is it so sad? What the actual fuck. Why did the mom have to die. What the fuck what the fucj WHY GOD. I hate everything but I hate WHOEVER MADE THE CONSCIOUS DECISION TO KILL BAMBI’S MOM MORE. WHAT THE HELL. I WILL FIGHT THEM AND THEN FIGHT GOD. Well maybe not god. nvm I’M FIGHTING THE HEAVENS WITH ONLY MY SWORD MADE OF STEEL AND MY HEART OF GOLD. I WILL ASSEND TO THE HEAVENS AND KICK GOD SQAURE IN THE FUCKING DICK SO THAT HE NEVER MAKES THE MISTAKE OF ALLOWING SUCH A HORRID EVENT EVER HAPPEN AGAIN. WHO DOES HE EVEN THINK HE IS. IS HE SOME OVERLORD MAKING US SUFFER FOR MINDLESS ENTERTAINMENT? IS THAT ALL WE ARE TO HIM? SOME STUPID LITTLE PAST TIME? WELL I'LL SHOW HIM. I’LL FUCKING SHOW HIM AND HE WILL BOW DOWN TO ME AS HE CONFESSES TO HIS SINS. FOR HE IS NO BETTER THAN THE ANGELS HE BANISHED FROM THE THE CELESTIAL CITY SO LONG AGO.

[nannymcchicken]

"maybe you shouldnt use your magic cane to teach children lessons by traumatizing them" god forbid women do anything

[downfallfox]

“…Oh, you mean Landon? Yeah, things were kind of odd after the whole ‘thing’ happened. I’ll explain real quick…

So I’ve known Landon all my life. I’ve been good friends with them, grew up in the same neighborhood… the entire kit for that type of stuff. But a couple of years ago, and I swear I remember it like it was A DAY ago, they started acting… weird. Every time we spoke, they kept talking about their ‘ascension’ and how they became a god. At first, I thought it was some sort of joke, some type of inside thing I missed out on. Eventually, though, it started to get… concerning.

They kept *insisting* that they were a god. They were being serious about it, and kept making sure I knew. I started to get worried about them… heck, I even tried to convince them to try and get some sort of counseling, because those guys know *way* more than I do, but they refused. ‘I’m telling you, I’m ***not*** delusional! I really am a god!’ Those are the things they’d normally say. It felt weird… that was until last week, as you guys know…

It was Saturday. They ran over to my house, panting. Said they had something really important to tell me. They said that they had convinced you guys that *I* needed to become a god. And it *worked.* At first, I thought it had to be another joke that they utilized their ‘delusion’ for. ‘Ha, you’re saying *I’m* a god? Me, the ‘great and mighty’ Y/N? I can barely even manage my workload, how could I manage *godhood*!?’

But, they still insisted. ‘Come on! Im being serious! Look, try breaking that vase over there!’

‘Yeah, like that’ll work. Sadly, I can’t just snap my fingers and-’

And then BOOM! The vase just BROKE right there, into pieces. My face just filled with shock, but I still couldn’t believe it.

‘That… must have been some sort of coincidence! There’s no way that… well, I mean, it’s not like I can clap and then it’ll magically repair itself, right? Now that’s just-’

As if the very *universe* had listened, as soon as I clapped it just… repaired itself! Like it was magic!

I was just… baffled! ‘W-What is… how…’

‘I TOLD you I wasn’t lying, Y/N!’ I tried to think of some sort of logical explanation, I couldn’t. Landon was *right.* I had become a *god.*

‘How am I supposed to… be a *god!?* I mean, I don’t know how the heck this stuff works, and… I…’

I was just confused, nothing else to really say. What else *could* I say! Im a *GOD* now! But, they told me to come here and speak with you guys, and now I’m here, asking you all now… *HOW THE HECK AM I SUPPOSED TO GOD PROPERLY!?*”

*…The gods just looked at Y/N, confused. One just sighs. But still, seriously, how does one ‘god’ correctly!?*

You thought your friend was just a little delusional with their whole…insisting they were a god business. But it was nothing too severe, I mean, you got a good laugh out of it sometimes. That was until they convinced the other gods to make you one as well…

[dresyreads]

Chapters: 21/? Fandom: Original Work Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Serenity - Character, Dragon, Granny Thomas, Liz Knifflus, Lucy Knifflus, And Other Neighbors Additional Tags: Fluff, Cozy, Domestic Bliss, Original work - Freeform, a 24 year old orphan finds a found family in her neighbors, Found Family, an old lady causes trouble but really she's a nice lady, Witchcraft, Witch and Familiar, Fiber Arts, cottage witch, living a life you're content with, Slice of Life Summary:

Serenity is a 24 year old witch who sells magic teas and items with enchantments knitted and crocheted into them. She's content with her life, selling her magical wares and living in a tiny house in a neighborhood where everyone knows and helps each other. Her life changes when she finally gets her spirit egg, which holds her familiar. After some toil, her spirit egg hatches into the rarest form of familiar: a dragon! Shenanigans ensue. This story is complete fluff. I wanted to write a story that has nothing but fluff, cozy vibes, and friendly characters that take care of each other even though everyone is kinda broke. A story where the importance of community, found family, and being content with a simple life is highlighted. Also there is a delightful old lady who took one look at Serenity and said "this is my grandchild now."

[skisc]

Traumatized Blondes

[bugeyedetective]

Someone I know wrote this. Posting to get the author some visibility. He's working on more, this was what got published. Takes place in a futuristic present where an assassin lady trying to have a relationship with a scholar. Their interactions are cute.

http://strangehorizons.com/poetry/lotus-descends-to-visit-nova/

I'm old and not hip, sorry for the lack of formatting, but check it out?

[bamsara]

I think that one thing people fail to understand is that unsolicited literary criticism coming from an online stranger who is reading with no knowledge of what the authors intended goal is, is not going to be received the same as say: the authors beta reader or friends who know what the authors intended goal and has the sufficient knowledge and input to help the author reach that desired outcome.

"But I'm only trying to be helpful" How do I know you have the knowledge and literary skill for you to be able to actaully do that when we don't know each other and you are essentially a stranger to me? Are you applying this criticism based out of personal biased experience and desire to see the story or characterization be driven in another direction or tweaked, or do you know the author's intentions for the character? If the story is incomplete, are you basing your criticism of a character on the incomplete narration with only partial information available of them or are you building up a report until the story's completion? Did the author provide you with the information needed to make a fully informed criticism?

Have you discussed with the author what their plans are or are you assuming them based off the narration, especially if the narration is proven or implied to be unreliable or missing key points of the plot? Are you unbiased enough to help them reach their desired outcome for the characters and story regardless of your personal feelings towards the characters/antagonists and setting? Can you handle being told your specific input isn't wanted because you're a reader and/or have no written anything relating to their genre or topic? Do you understand and respect that the author's personal experiences might influence their writing and make it different than how you would have done it personally? Do you understand if an author only wants input from a specific demographic relating to their story?

If it's for fanfiction or other hobby media, are you holding a free hobby to a professional standard? Are you trying to give criticism because you feel like the author has produced 'subpar job performance' of their fic? Are you viewing their work as a personal intimate outlet or something that must conform with mass media? Are you applying rules and guidelines when the fic is shared for simple sharing sake? Is your criticism worded appropriately and focused on the parts where the author has requested input on rather than a general dismissal and or disapproval?

Have you put yourself in a place where you assumed you have the input needed for the story to evolve better, or have you asked what the author needs and what they're having trouble with? Can you handle having your criticism rejected if the author decides their story doesn't need the change and not take it as a personal offense against your character? Are you crossing that boundary because you think you are doing the author a favor? Are you trying to be helpful, or do you just want to be?

I think sometimes when people hear authors go 'please don't give me unsolicited writing advice or criticism' they automatically chalk it up to 'this author doesn't want ANY constructive feedback on their stuff at all' and not "i already have trusted individuals who will help me with my writing goals and- hey i don't know you like that, please stop acting so overly familiar with me'

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

from the start !

so. . what are we ??

you’ve been katsuki’s for as long as you can remember.

sure, he had never outwardly called you his girlfriend, but when you were both seven years old, he came up to you. chest heaving slightly from running up and down the hill where he had gotten you a freshly plucked out bouquet of flowers. the roots were still clinging to them and he got dirt all over your hands from forcibly grabbing them and shoving the bouquet in them before you could even form a sentence.

“since you accepted the flowers, you’re mine now.” he mumbled, his little hands tightened into fists at his sides and chubby cheeks a cute shade of pink, staring at you as confidently as he could.

a grin grows on his face when you respond with a simple “okay !” and a bright smile. the grin on his face never disappears even as his mom scolds him for getting you both all dirty.

you were katsuki’s in middle school too, when the boys in class decided to play kiss, marry, kill and he had somehow gotten dragged into it. the girls in your class tried their best to seem uninterested, claiming the boys were being childish, but you noticed how hard some of them were straining their ears trying to hear what the guys were talking about in their own little corner of the room. you’d be lying if you said you weren’t a little curious as well.

katsuki was as ruthless as you’d known him to be, choosing to kill any girl that wasn’t to his liking, which ended up being all of them. much to the other boys’ chagrin, claiming he had no taste.

then your name was brought up.

at that, his eyes widened and he turned in his seat to see if you were watching. you had never turned your head away so fast in your life and you were pretty sure you heard something go “crack”.

he clicked his tongue. mumbling something about how stupid the game was before muttering out a “kiss yn, marry yn and kill that other bitch.” before getting up and stomping away, claiming he had to go to the bathroom followed closely by the whoops and hollers of his two friends behind him.

you both made eye contact when he walked out and you think you’ll never forget how red his cheeks were.

you were katsuki’s when he was the one to walk you to and from school everyday, claiming you would somehow get lost without him. you were katsuki’s when he had begrudgingly shoved homemade valentines day chocolates into your arms, mumbling something about how you had been upset nobody had gotten you anything last year, conveniently leaving out the fact he had scared off all the other guys trying to offer you anything.

you were katsuki’s when he grabbed your hand during the winter because he said you’d “end up dying of hypothermia with the way you’re chittering over there.” and you were his when you were the only person he laughed around. loud, genuine laughter that you and only you could squeeze out of him. you were katsuki’s when he randomly kissed you goodnight at your door one night and he’s been doing it ever since, and gets all pouty when you turn away from his kisses to tease him.

“are we dating ?” you had asked him. you’re both in high school now and you’re in his dorm room. your legs are on his lap and he’s got a comfortable grip on your leg, which tightens after he registers your questions “hah?” he looks utterly confused and a little insulted as he looks back at you, his entire face scrunched up in confusion. you pinch his nose and he swats at your hand.

“are we dating ? like—am i your girlfriend.” you say again and katsuki’s face scrunches up even harder. he huffs and looks back at his phone, landing a little smack on your leg still placed in his lap. “ ‘course yer my fuckin’ girlfriend.” he spits out, obviously irritated. then he looks back at you “I haven’t made it obvious ?” he says sarcastically. one of his eyebrows lifted as he pokes at your leg still very much in his lap.

you simply shrug “s’not that. it’s just because you’ve never actually asked me out before, so i was a little confused on where we stood.” you mumble. he stares at you while you speak and he stares a little longer before sighing. then he leans towards you and flicks your forehead.

“ow !”

“dumbass.” he murmurs. there’s a slight pout on his face and his cheeks are light shade of pink when he looks you in the eyes again. he grabs both your cheeks with one hand and smushes them together to push your lips out and presses multiple wet kisses onto them that have you squealing and squirming. his wet lips are pulled into a smirk when he pulls back and you try your best to at least look a little angry, you really do. but it’s useless when he looks at you like that.

“of course you’re my girlfriend” he reiterates. his smirk’s been replaced for something softer, something more sincere as he gazes at you with so much unadulterated affection it makes your head spin a little. “you’ve always been mine.” he says it in a teasing tone and his hand is still smushing your cheeks out and it hurts a little but his eyes are still the same. they’re warm and soft and so, so enamored with you and only you.

when he finally let’s go of your face and pulls you fully into his lap, you realize katsuki’s been yours for as long as you’ve been his.

you smile brightly at him but turn your nose up when he leans in to kiss you again. “i still haven’t heard what i wanna hear though, mr. bakugou.”

he rolls his eyes and pinches at your thigh as he mumbles out a “don’t call me that.” sighing, he looks at you intensely and you suddenly feel very shy.

“will you be my girlfriend, ya shitty girl ?” and he says it as a joke, you both know it is cus his lips are already forming into a smirk the second he finishes his sentence. and you’re pulling at his nose the moment you register it, but you’re both smiling hard. he laughs and you’re sure you’ll never get tired of the sound. “what’s your answer, pretty ?” he asks playfully and you pretend to really think it over just to mess with him, and giggling out a “yes!” when he suddenly pounces on you. flipping you both over and tickling you mercilessly, calling it revenge for you “taking too damn long to answer.”

you’d been katsuki’s for as long as you can remember, and you hope you can be forever.

[sweetaru1]

PARKOUR CIVILIZATION ART DROP!!!!!!

I was gonna render this one but I didn't feel like it, so I just slapped a gradient map and said good enough

And some from my sketchbook (with a Branzy cameo)

Can't believe this is my first time drawing clown and it's because of parkour civ of all things

[inkskinned]

at some point it's just like. do they even fucking like the thing they're asking AI to make? "oh we'll just use AI for all the scripts" "we'll just use AI for art" "no worries AI can write this book" "oh, AI could easily design this"

like... it's so clear they've never stood in the middle of an art museum and felt like crying, looking at a piece that somehow cuts into your marrow even though the artist and you are separated by space and time. they've never looked at a poem - once, twice, three times - just because the words feel like a fired gun, something too-close, clanging behind your eyes. they've never gotten to the end of the movie and had to arrive, blinking, back into their body, laughing a little because they were holding their breath without realizing.

"oh AI can mimic style" "AI can mimic emotion" "AI can mimic you and your job is almost gone, kid."

... how do i explain to you - you can make AI that does a perfect job of imitating me. you could disseminate it through the entire world and make so much money, using my works and my ideas and my everything.

and i'd still keep writing.

i don't know there's a word for it. in high school, we become aware that the way we feel about our artform is a cliche - it's like breathing. over and over, artists all feel the same thing. "i write because i need to" and "my music is how i speak" and "i make art because it's either that or i stop existing." it is such a common experience, the violence and immediacy we mean behind it is like breathing to me - comes out like a useless understatement. it's a cliche because we all feel it, not because the experience isn't actually persistent. so many of us have this ... fluttering urgency behind our ribs.

i'm not doing it for the money. for a star on the ground in some city i've never visited. i am doing it because when i was seven i started taking notebooks with me on walks. i am doing it because in second grade i wrote a poem and stood up in front of my whole class to read it out while i shook with nerves. i am doing it because i spent high school scribbling all my feelings down. i am doing it for the 16 year old me and the 18 year old me and the today-me, how we can never put the pen down. you can take me down to a subatomic layer, eviscerate me - and never find the source of it; it is of me. when i was 19 i named this blog inkskinned because i was dramatic and lonely and it felt like the only thing that was actually permanently-true about me was that this is what is inside of me, that the words come up over everything, coat everything, bloom their little twilight arias into every nook and corner and alley

"we're gonna replace you". that is okay. you think that i am writing to fill a space. that someone said JOB OPENING: Writer Needed, and i wrote to answer. you think one raindrop replaces another, and i think they're both just falling. you think art has a place, that is simply arrives on walls when it is needed, that is only ever on demand, perfect, easily requested. you see "audience spending" and "marketability" and "multi-line merch opportunity"

and i see a kid drowning. i am writing to make her a boat. i am writing because what used to be a river raft has long become a fully-rigged ship. i am writing because you can fucking rip this out of my cold dead clammy hands and i will still come back as a ghost and i will still be penning poems about it.

it isn't even love. the word we use the most i think is "passion". devotion, obsession, necessity. my favorite little fact about the magic of artists - "abracadabra" means i create as i speak. we make because it sluices out of us. because we look down and our hands are somehow already busy. because it was the first thing we knew and it is our backbone and heartbreak and everything. because we have given up well-paying jobs and a "real life" and the approval of our parents. we create because - the cliche again. it's like breathing. we create because we must.

you create because you're greedy.