#there's your fair warning!

[hydrachea]

I speedran the 4.1 archon quest (and it was amazing) so #genshin spoilers is making a comeback for probably the next two or so weeks, adjust blacklists accordingly!

[ms-demeanor]

I don't care about data scraping from ao3 (or tbh from anywhere) because it's fair use to take preexisting works and transform them (including by using them to train an LLM), which is the entire legal basis of how the OTW functions.

[northernsuccubus]

Let’s snuggle while we watch something so I can feel you up and play with your hair.

[acornered]

long distance relationship got me thinking in Joanna Newsom lyrics

[swiggity-swexual-i-am-asexual]

Danny Phantom doesn’t want to be king.

And the Observants also don’t want him to be king.

Frankly, very VERY few people want him to be king, dead or alive.

But opening the sarcophagus, even if it’s closed NOW, disrupted some magic protections. Until those can be fixed, summoning spells need to be answered by SOMEONE. Not all of summons, just like—once a month or so. Because if they don’t let that power outlet happen, all of those summon magics build up and suddenly Pariah Dark reigns again. Answering the summon basically dispels the built up magic, like opening a dam.

Again, Danny doesn’t WANT to do this either, but everyone else involved is a bad choice. He won’t even be named prince, because THEN that implies he COULD be king. He needs a title, of some kind, a position in the court, no matter how tenuous, so he can do the thing. Something where no one in their right or even WRONG mind would think to try to kill him for the position or try to marry him or something equally annoying to deal with.

So.

He becomes the Ghost Court Jester.

He even gets a fancy little outfit upgrade when he’s summoned, all black and white bell hats and shoes, a stupid little ruffle collar and black parachute pants, even face paint with a tiny dot of glowing neon green at the tip of his nose. The works. Better yet, if he hasn’t been ‘unsummoned’, his human form is just the exact same costume with swapped colors. He can change into his normal outfits, but until that circle has been disrupted, the next summon, or the next full or new moon, he’s stuck into the outfit when he first transforms from either form.

The Phantom Jester, which is a title more intimidating than Danny appears to be if we are to be honest, cracks jokes and never, EVER takes the summons seriously.

“Listen, I just had to get my hours in and it’s the last day of the lunar month, you got lucky I came at all.”

“I got the position by virtue of not wanting to go to Time Jail for a crime I technically didn’t commit and technically probably won’t but, well, eyes are the beholder of the grudge or something else equally cryptic to make you mad.”

“Is this a slumber party? … do you have cake? Bummer. Well, enjoy the bleeding walls then.”

“Whether I help you or not is entirely dependent on how well of a run down you can give me on this book I have to read that I have not at all touched.”

“Explain the reason in three sentences or less. I suggest less. And if it’s stupid I’m hitting you—oh you think this circle can contain me? Haha. It won’t.”

“Is that chicken blood? Why?? What did the chickens do to you?”

There are props in his costume but he literally never knows what he’s gonna pull out of his sleeves. Danny can’t even do a balloon animal and knows exactly zero card tricks, which would be more of an issue if the cards weren’t the size of a dinner plate. He barely even juggles and he’s honestly probably just utilizing his rarely-used telekinetic powers, but he does give people flowers if they haven’t been a total jerk. And if those flowers are like, rare and have seeds for propagation, well… he literally wouldn’t know. No, really, he doesn’t. He gets summoned by at least two ecology departments and he has no idea why, I mean, if he had a nickel—

He also had pies and is NOT afraid to use them.

[imjustapoorwayfaringgeek]

Cat and her kittens

[blindmagdalena]

how do you think homie would react to reader breaking up with him because they have very different morals (homie kills people, ik he's babygirl but he does just brutally kill people, reader is a pacifist)

-bree(sorry for multiple asks in short time :P)

cw gaslighting, imprisonment, manhandling. no more mr. nice homelander.

"Fine, listen, listen, if it means that much to you, I won't do it anymore," Homelander says, hands lifted placatingly. The way he says it makes it sound like he's doing you a favor. Like you're overreacting to a mild infraction. You stare, mouth agape. "This... This isn't some bad habit. You kill people."

"Yeah," he agrees, a slight strain creeping into his voice. "Yeah! Okay. And? Lots of people kill people. And typically, I only kill people who're also killing people." "Typically," you echo, at a loss. How can he be so flippant about this? It's like he hasn't heard a single word you've said. "You don't care. At all." "Why should I care? Why should you care? It's not like I'm killing people you like, or even know," he says, his exasperation with you intensifying. "But you love me. So just... Cool off, alright? Sleep on it. Before you do something you'll regret."

The shift in his voice when he says that runs a chill up your spine. "Are you threatening me?" "What?" Homelander laughs. "No! Of course not. Babe, listen to yourself. C'mon, I know you're upset-" he moves to take your hand, but for the first time, you yank it from his reach, crossing your arms. His hand hovers in the space yours had been for a moment, his eyes locked on the same spot. He inhales a slow breath, his fingers curling into a fist before dropping back to his side.

When he looks at you, his gaze is bereft of any playfulness. Your denial of him has flipped a switch in him that you've never seen before.

"You're tired," he says, voice set low. Any traces of the lighthearted pretense from earlier has been dropped. "It's late. You have a lot to process. So, we are going to put this aside for tonight. You are going to come to bed with me, and we'll talk about it in the morning, when you're calm." "I am calm," you tell him, refusing to let him make you feel like you're the one being unreasonable. "Please move. I already told my friend I'm on my way," you lie. You wish you had. You wish you realized sooner you would need to. Homelander had always been so utterly devoted to you. He hung on your every word, met your every whim, loved you so thoroughly that he made you feel like his entire world. Only now have you realized the dangers of that kind of love.

His mouth twitches. "Which friend?"

You begin to answer, wanting to give validity to your fiction, but an awful thought occurs to you. Would he hurt them? "It doesn't matter," You reply instead, clutching your overnight bag. "I need space, and I don't want you coming to me before I'm ready. Please, move," you say, voice wavering. He was making this so much more painful than it already was. You do love him, but he's making you feel like you barely even know him.

Homelander taps his hands on his thighs, considering you. After a prolonged silence, just before you open your mouth to speak again, he claps his hands together. "Alright. Sure," he says, stepping forward. You step backwards. "Door's right there." You're immediately relieved, but there's a nagging feeling in your gut. "Thank you," you say softly, adjusting your grip on your bag. "I'll call, okay?" Homelander offers a sideways nod, seeming... resigned. You feel the guilt of it weigh heavily, and for a split second, you question yourself, whether what you're doing is right or fair. You have to steel yourself before your resolve falters. You need time away from him to collect yourself, and figure out what to do about the man you, as it turns out, know very little about.

Just as you pass him, you feel a sudden grip on your arm, and in a flash you're spun around, stumbling back into the penthouse. You stare wide-eyed for a moment, turning back around. Poised exactly as he had been before, Homelander stands in front of the door, hands on his hips. His brows lift slightly. "Well?" Your heart is racing now. "What are you doing?"

"Go on," he says, ignoring your question. "Door's right there."

Anger rolls through you in a heated wave. "I'm not playing this game with you," you say, moving to shove more forcibly passed him this time, but once again he catches you with a hand on your wrist, spinning you around with such ease, you may as well weigh nothing at all. Yet again you stumble back into the penthouse, tears welling in your eyes as you round on him. "Stop it! Get out of my way!" "Door's wide open, babe. All you have to do is get to it, and you can leave," he says, voice perfectly relaxed, devoid of any passion or empathy.

With a frustrated cry, you hurl your bag at him, and full on sprint towards the door. You get closer this time, but just as you reach for the knob, Homelander takes you by your shoulders and spins you right around. Your own momentum carries you further in. You barely catch yourself from falling, letting go a sob that's equal parts rage and heartbreak. Who is this man?

This time, you throw yourself bodily towards the door, screaming your distress, your anger. You do it again and again and again, and every time, Homelander spins you right back around. On the final attempt, as he once again redirects you, the force of your own momentum hurls you to the ground.

"Do you get it yet?" Homelander asks, cocking his head to the side, checking to see if you're picked up on this lesson in futility. "You don't call the shots here. You don't get to just decide we're done. Relationships go two ways, sweetheart," he says. That petname used to give you butterflies. It sounds sour on his tongue now. You hear him sigh, closer to you now.

"Didn't think you'd be that stubborn. But I guess I've always loved that about you when it wasn't pointed at me, huh?" He asks, a playful little lilt slipping back into his voice. You struggle when he scoops you up, you make an animalistic noise of pure aggravation, but it's as fruitless as ever. Homelander is both an unstoppable force and an immovable object, his grip on you like steel. He cannot be stopped, or even hindered, as he carries you towards the bedroom. He sets you down on the bed, and out of pure unthinking fury, you raise your hand to slap him across the face. The strike lands, but Homelander doesn't so much as twitch. Your hand smarts, you may as well have slapped a brick wall. You clutch your wrist, letting go another sob. It aches immediately, frail in comparison to his unyielding frame.

Cupping either side of your face, Homelander swipes away your tears with his thumbs, watching you impassively. There's patience in his expression, though it looks stretched thin.

"I know you're upset," he says, an echo of earlier, as if picking up right from where he'd left off. As if nothing of the last twenty minutes had even happened. "But we'll get through this. And hey, hey, I'm not even mad at you, okay? Because that's what it means when you love someone. You forgive them." You feel numbed by your own plethora of tumultuous emotions, strung out and exhausted. You close your eyes, unable to stomach the loving way he's gazing at you. He kisses your forehead, wringing a weak, hiccupped little noise out of you. "That's my girl. I love you more than anything. You know that, right? That I would never do anything to hurt you?" No matter how gentle his hold on you is, it's inescapable. You have no choice but to face him, bleary as he is through your tear-welled eyes. Unable to push an answer through the tightness in your throat, you just nod.

"That's right. Of course you do. Because if I wanted to hurt you, I would have. It would have been easy, huh?" Those words break something in you. You lose whatever bit of composure you had built back up, and you begin to sob anew, an agonized sound. Homelander's expression twists. He's never liked seeing you cry. He's also never been the source of it.

"Shhh, shhhh, hey, it's alright. You're okay. I would never let anything happen to you," he says, as if he wasn't the very thing happening to you in this moment. He kisses your forehead again, your tear-streaked cheeks, and finally your lips.

You don't have any fight left in you. Not against the press of his lips, and not against the way he brings you under the covers with him, clothes and all.

He pulls you against his chest the same way he has a hundred times before, as if this is any other night that the two of you have fallen asleep in each others embrace.

You hug your arms tight to your chest, crying hard, while he rubs your back, hushing you. Comforting you, as any good boyfriend should.

"It's alright. I've got you," he says, his arms an oppressive force around you. "I've got you."

[littlecrow4]

Ok so not only have I just been SEVERELY COCKBLOCKED but I have also been SEVERELY ATTACKED EMOTIONALLY!!!

To my fellow FiddleStan enjoyers this is the fic that I have just suffered through with a plot twist so big it’ll make your grandmas head spin off! 10/10 it’s fucking amazing and I’m dropping the title to the ones who have not been blessed by this fic yet

Title: Penumbra

Author: Apuzzlingprince

Check it out it’s amazing! Had me droppin my jaw

[adobe-outdesign]

Cool thing I found via Reddit: a fully explorable virtual Pokemon Fossil Museum

[buwheal]

Ah, the Addisons. One of them was trying to sell a dress sewed to a mannequin (I think the orange one?) and the other was selling footwear samples. As food. Uh… they’re… not very smart, are they?

[lenle-g]

I WANNA DRAW THE BOIS

@ Thundebirds peeps: send me an excerpt of something you're writing, and I'll do you a quick fan art for it. Bonus points if it's got Soft!Bros or hurt/comfort bc you all know that's my jam extra bonus points if I don't have to draw their uniforms but I will if i have to XD

[midground]

What if a villainess fell in love with a girl who was also sort of her, and who she also sort of was as well? What if they never had a conversation, but everything they did was for each other? What if her name also meant "the world" and when the villainess says she's saving the world she ALWAYS means the girl? What if the girl's name became holy, and "Because it's what she would have wanted" became a litany, a prayer never spoken but engraved into every act of kindness? What if the villainess killed one god and then another and it didn't matter because none of them were her god?

Fellas, is it gay to manipulate things so that a man will fall in love with you because you think your god, your world, could find happiness with him once she takes back control of your body? Is it gay to see HER in every moment of romance he thinks is budding between you?

Anyway, everyone should go check out "The One Within the Villainess" everything it does is insane and I'm losing my mind.

[hannibalsjuicyass]

Gonna resurrect the Stargate fandom 2023 who’s with me

[bonefall]

no joke you turned star flower into one of my least favorite characters into one of my favorites. this is why i follow you and this is why its important to talk about this stuff. even when people are aware of these issues, it can be hard to see just how deep they run until somebody points it out

Star Flower deserves better, most of the cast of DOTC deserves better but Star Flower, Snake, and Bumble deserve the most better

She didn't DO anything man. She's not even that mean. It's super popular for people to just end up absolutely hating her because of Thunder being jealous and angry at her, but she didn't fuckin "betray" anyone, and everything Thunder is saying about her is SUPER messed up and should really have been examined!

Like... how do they unironically write Thunder looking at Star Flower, saying "YOU ONLY LIKE MY DAD BECAUSE HE REMINDS YOU OF YOUR FATHER" and just let that hang in the air?? And leave Clear Sky's internal monologue about how she's going to obey him, be more loyal to him than his "own kin" (Thunder) whomst he's actively abusing, and how he finally has someone who won't question him?

I need her to get therapy, man. I need her and Thunder to get therapy and Clear Sky to blow up.

[starflungwaddledee]

>> start the adventure! << || [masterpost] ||

while starstruck makes her merry way to the @kirbyoctournament, why not keep her company with some questions?

for the next month, as propaganda for the tourney, dream land's favourite little anxious amnesiac will be taking asks directly!

couple of little notes, suggestions, and rules!

though this is hopefully obvious, i don't guarantee i'll get to every ask or interaction! i'll do the best i can, but if i don't make it to yours, it's nothing personal! where possible these will be answered "in character" from tourney!starstruck, though you can still ask me tournament related things too! this is my first time trying "in character" asks, but i want to make one thing really clear: please no text rp. makes me incredibly uncomfortable. for plot consistency, this is set during her Present Timeline, and she knows as much about her own backstory as the average reader. has no idea who This Guy is. she has similarly not yet encountered the star spears or any weapon like them. questions can come from ocs, especially if they're in the tournament! i may not draw your oc in the response though. i probably won't respond to any "how are you" generic type deals because those will get hard to answer pretty much immediately. i am hoping to find some fun personality combos to riff off, so if you have an interesting interaction idea for our ocs, feel free to share! starstruck is Technically Romancable and OCs who are at least 25+ are totally welcome to make an attempt to flirt with her (pspsps evil lesbians especially if you're out there come say hi. any and all wings havers also), but remember she is dense as a pile of bricks. also please no nsfw.

[elderwisp]

◁ || ▷

Atlas: Soooo... You nervous?

Taryn: Atlas, what if I cry?

Atlas: Naaaah. You'll be fine. I promise. [ pinch! ]

Taryn: OW!

Atlas: See, that wasn’t so bad. Now imagine that on your ears.

Taryn: I- [ pauses ] You are so odd. 

Atlas: Would you have it any other way?

Taryn: No… Never. 

Atlas: [ lets out a small huff ] Well, you ready?

Taryn: Only if you go first.