#could write it for myself

[soupbtch]

.

[inkskinned]

because sometimes there are invisible tests and invisible rules and you're just supposed to ... know the rule. someone you thought of as a friend asks you for book recommendations, so you give her a list of like 30 books, each with a brief blurb and why you like it. later, you find out she screenshotted the list and send it out to a group chat with the note: what an absolute freak can you believe this. you saw the responses: emojis where people are rolling over laughing. too much and obsessive and actually kind of creepy in the comments. you thought you'd been doing the right thing. she'd asked, right? an invisible rule: this is what happens when you get too excited.

you aren't supposed to laugh at your own jokes, so you don't, but then you're too serious. you're not supposed to be too loud, but then people say you're too quiet. you aren't supposed to get passionate about things, but then you're shy, boring. you aren't supposed to talk too much, but then people are mad when you're not good at replying.

you fold yourself into a prettier paper crane. since you never know what is "selfish" and what is "charity," you give yourself over, fully. you'd rather be empty and over-generous - you'd rather eat your own boundaries than have even one person believe that you're mean. since you don't know what the thing is that will make them hate you, you simply scrub yourself clean of any form of roughness. if you are perfect and smiling and funny, they can love you. if you are always there for them and never admit what's happening and never mention your past and never make them uncomfortable - you can make up for it. you can earn it.

don't fuck up. they're all testing you, always. they're tolerating you. whatever secret club happened, over a summer somewhere - during some activity you didn't get to attend - everyone else just... figured it out. like they got some kind of award or examination that allowed them to know how-to-be-normal. how to fit. and for the rest of your life, you've been playing catch-up. you've been trying to prove that - haha! you get it! that the joke they're telling, the people they are, the manual they got- yeah, you've totally read it.

if you can just divide yourself in two - the lovable one, and the one that is you - you can do this. you can walk the line. they can laugh and accept you. if you are always-balanced, never burdensome, a delight to have in class, champagne and glittering and never gawky or florescent or god-forbid cringe: you can get away with it.

you stare at your therapist, whom you can make jokes with, and who laughs at your jokes, because you are so fucking good at people-pleasing. you smile at her, and she asks you how you're doing, and you automatically say i'm good, thanks, how are you? while the answer swims somewhere in your little lizard brain:

how long have you been doing this now? mastering the art of your body and mind like you're piloting a puppet. has it worked? what do you mean that all you feel is... just exhausted. pick yourself up, the tightrope has no net. after all, you're cheating, somehow, but nobody seems to know you actually flunked the test. it's working!

aren't you happy yet?

[lostlegendaerie]

there's something deeply gutting about being a writer right now. watching studio execs brag about starving people like you out of your very house just to not pay you anything above the pennies you currently make. watching some people cheer over AO3 being targeted for a DDOS attack. the complete lack of profitability of writing commissions or writing in general in transformative spaces, especially in contrast to fanart. the pivot of so many social media platforms to be video and image based near-exclusively.

I don't know. it just makes me sad to know that the hobby that kept me alive while growing up homeschooled with dial-up internet and local antenna TV... is only ever gonna be a side job with minimal engagement. I know this site is good about supporting libraries and the concept of books but, do me a favor? Reach out to a writer friend you know. Leave a comment on your last five read stories on your favorite website.

Tell us you care.

[allgremlinart]

Jet and Zuko meet on the ferry is TIRED. Jet and Zuko meet after S2E7 "Zuko Alone" is WIRED

[nouverx]

As a french person, it's kinda funny to me when fanfic writers make Alastor speak french, and it's always things like "Bonjour mon cher, je t'aime" you know, typical french words from the main France french most people learn here and there.

The thing is, Alastor knows french creole from Louisiana, which isn't the usual France french most people know. Alastor would speak like "Bonjou konmen to yê?" Or "Mo laimm twa" instead ahah.

Also, there's different versions of french creole, the one from Louisiana is not exactly the same from Antillean Creole or French Guianese Creole. If you want here's an example to what Louisiana Creole sounds like!

So yeah if you want to spice up your fics and be more accurate with your Alastor speaking french creole, dont be afraid to look out for Louisiana Creole expressions instead of the typical french you'd normally use! Makes it more fun and more accurate 💃

[kasieli]

Hear me out: MC and Seb exploring the underwater caves together

[mysterycitrus]

outsider pov batman fics are so good. yes i would love to read an in-universe bruce wayne interview. please tell me more about a popular blog in gotham. what are the insurance rates for bat-property damage. does brucie wayne have a tiktok presence. do we think azrael is big on goth twitter

[spindlewoed]

Look, listen. The smoker on the balcony is obsessed with beauty and the fine arts while Cindy the skull is a contemporary artist all about activism and I need them to interact so badly because they would have THEE most heated art debate of the century. Cindy would eat him alive but that's not the point their back and forth would be legendary you don't even know. Lesbian on gay man violence.

[gfguren]

pro hero!bakugou x reader | fluff, a little bit domestic, a little bit intimate, a little bit suggestive? (not really) | cw: cursing, a very modest bath scene

-teaching bakugou to 'take'-

Thinking about the newly domestic give and take between you and Katsuki. It doesn't come naturally to him. He's hell bent on doing everything himself, at first. That's the way he's always lived after all - hyper self-sufficient, independent to a fault, and so goddamn stubborn about it all.

It makes you feel almost useless, his insistence on doing everything, not only for himself but for you as well. Honestly, you should have expected it; he was like that well before moving in together. Taking all the responsibilities on himself, wrangling you out of the way when you so much as try to help, because he "feels like it", or he's "better at it", or "just move, f'r I make ya".

But you were a guest in his house, then - so you let him have his way, bullheaded as it was. Now that you share a house - a home - you want nothing more than to take care of it, -him.

Though moving mountains would be easier than convincing him to accept it.

You try brute force, first. And it goes as well as you might expect, like throwing pebbles at a brick wall. Putting yourself between him and the dishes is just as futile; he cooked dinner, you should be the one to do this. It's only fair. Still, he takes it upon himself to pick you up and physically remove you from 'his' spot by the sink, ugly yellow gloves dripping dishwater all the way to the counter.

The floor is completely soaked by the time he plops you down on the countertop, as are your jeans, your flailing arms and exasperated "Katsuki!" having done little to deter him. Your mouth opens in protest but his hands, firm at your sides and eyes, red, and stern and definite leave no room for discussion.

So you try to 'talk about it', second. When his mood has cooled and he's feeling a little sweet. He usually is, when hero work has worn him down, chipped away at his fire until there's nothing left but his worn down bones and the aching desire to be enveloped in you - his head on your chest, your fingers in his hair.

He's nothing but mush in your arms by the time you bring it up, nearly two hundred pounds of limp muscle, eyes half lidded, and slow, warm breath. You think he doesn't hear you at first, more likely he pretends not to; but then you hear a half-hearted, "hmph". And you sigh.

"I'm serious, Kats." you rake your fingers across his scalp absently and he groans in appreciation, furling into you more. "You can't do everything, just look at you."

He peers up at you with one eye, an almost glare, more playful than anything; too tired for anything more. He huffs gently, warm breath across your chest when you don't back down. "We'll talk about it later."

'Later'; meaning never. Still, you don't press him. Not when he's so tired, not when this small moment of peace is all he allows you to offer him.

Ever predictable; there isn't a later, and he finds a way to avoid the conversation, in one way or another. Over and over and over again. You're at the end of your rope just trying to get him to listen.

Instead, you try a last ditch effort at patience, at compromise (usually a losing battle, with him); working him over, little by little.

And it works, mostly.

You find that, most times, you can slip past him while he's cooking to steal the dirty mixing bowls and discarded pans; wash them while he's preoccupied trying not to burn the chicken or fretting over cutting the vegetables 'just right'. That him doing the cooking is non-negotiable, but he'll let you help as long as you stop trying to kiss him while he's "tryin' to make y'r dinner over here, god damnit".

(Don't let him fool you, he likes it).

That it takes you far too long to realize how much he craves being asked for 'help', instead of your usual insistence on helping him. That when he feels appreciated and useful, he's almost eager to share the housework with you, looking almost boyish standing there, hands stuffed in his pockets, the tepid scowl twisting his pretty face betrayed by the blush creeping up the back of his neck when you hum a lilted, "Thank you, Katsuki".

Your strategy's not foolproof, of course; he's still quick to steal whatever you're working on once he's finished his, itching to make himself busy once more.

But it's progress.

Still, no matter how much you try, or how long you pester him, he puts his foot down at taking care of him while he's sick, while he's training or on patrol. Anything that could end with you hurt, or put you in harms way is a hard 'no' - always, always, always.

That's not to say he doesn't let you take care of him ever. Though it was more hassle than it should have been, getting him to just sit comfortable instead of disappearing into the bath for hours, or taking his frustrations out on his poor, battered training equipment.

These days, when he's had an especially tiring evening, he'll sink down into the sofa without you having to say a thing, let you press your fingers into his shoulders and down his spine until the knots unwind. That occasionally he'll let you take him by the hand even, coax him gently into warm water and vanilla scented bubble bath.

That he becomes particularly docile when you're massaging your flowery conditioner into his wily blonde hair. The scent of you - over his waist, around his shoulders, in his hair - it's almost intoxicating, and he wraps his arms around you, like he's desperate for more, burying his face in your chest; sighs like he's at ease for the first time in his life.

It isn't easy, teaching Katsuki to take - but when he lays down with you at night, his eyes are a little brighter, hands hold you a little tighter, a little longer than when all he knew was how to give, give, give. And when his lips find yours, and you can feel his smile against them, you figure all the trouble is worth it.

And when he rolls the both of you over til you're pinned beneath heavy thighs, impish grin on his lips and calloused fingers beneath your shirt, trouble and promise brewing behind his newly fired eyes, well that's just a bonus.

[shepscapades]

In light of my recent… Minor (tm) Ranchers obsession, and also in light of the confirmation that the life series are canon to dbhc, I raise for consideration: dbhc wamcherms…. ;.; sniff. wanchers…

Tango is already deviant by the start of Double Life, so the burned ranch isn’t what triggers his deviancy or anything, but this does leave him with permanent damage. His model is built to withstand extreme heat and explosions, but I imagine that he gets so angry that his insides fry, circuits catching flame and making the plastic shell crack from the inside out, kind of like an engine fire erupting from the hood of a car. Jimmy knows next to nothing about androids, so he just does what he thinks is best: keeping Tango from hurting anyone else and… shouting every computer lingo phrase he can think of in the hopes it’ll do something to get him to calm down.

[frownyalfred]

you know what one of my favorite tropes is? forced identity reveal. and not just scenes where the villain will throw some poor civilian off a building if the Justice League doesn't stand up. I mean the kind where they're forced, through magic or powers or some sort of force, to reveal themselves.

Kryptonians are immediately identified in the crowd with kryptonite. Every Lantern hisses as their rings start to flare at the same time, glowing wildly on their hands. Glamours are forcibly dropped. Like that.

[fudgecake-charlie]

shh i'm posting no one tell my professors or the projects im involved in

[malsdia]

merlin rewrite where gwen finds out about merlins magic in s1. so gwen is always there with him whenever something magical happens. also merlin finally has good advice from gwen instead of just gauis and the gecko. gwen also just does things for him no questions asked.

like merlin shows up at her doorstep dripping wet talking about a serial killing merman, and she just goes and brings out a sword and says ok lets go. merlin wasn't even there to ask her to fight but at this point he'll get all the assistance he can get.

everyone in the castle thinks they're dating cause they're always together. and they both go along with it cause it gives them an excuse to wander the town or castle alone whenever theres a magical threat.

arthur finds them in an abandoned room making a salt circle and burning herbs in a bowl and they just go "we're on a date" and "this is how commoners have a romantic date arthur, you wouldn't understand".

[fandomrose]

Sunday - Love Hypnosis

Sunday hypnotises you (consensually) to relax you.

No spoilers.

No description of reader or readers troubles so project what you are personally struggling with as you see fit.

No angst just fluff. I thought this concept would be cute. I've seen many a yandere Sunday hypnotises you, and that's great but consider - consent and fluff.

(This isn't a jab, I too enjoy a yandere fic from time to time but I also want to see fluff and I haven't seen this done in a fluffy way yet.)

I don't know why I'm mildly obsessed with this man but I am. (Cough Cough, I read maximum ride as a kid and now I automatically fall in love with winged characters. Cough Cough.) I need him to hypnotise me please and thank you.

(I have a few fics in the works that I need to finish but I'm struggling.)

As usual enjoy. Love ya 💙

"Darling?" Came the light and airy tone of your beloved. Though there was a hint of worry in his voice as he took in your face down, slumped form. "Are you alright?"

He could tell very well that you were not alright. But he would coax an answer out of you one way or another. Though the only answer he received was a groan.

"Darling." He sighs but chuckles at your obviously aggravated self. "Allow me to help you." 

Your body goes limp as you let him move you from a sofa to your shared bed. "My darling. Tell me what's gotten into you."

He chuckles as you groan out a single word relating to your issues. "Life."

"Oh, my darling. You'll let me soothe you for the night won't you?" He only felt it was right after the many nights you had soothed him. 

Patient, kind, understanding. Three words that when asked by others what you think about each other, you'd both say about each other. A pure give and take without a scoreboard, that's how you operated. You were both busy or stressed for one reason or another so that's how things had to be.

The simple love you shared was enough most days but sometimes things went wrong.

Sunday had performed hypnosis on you before so he knew it worked but he'd never engage unless you agreed. You knew the question he asked meant he wanted to soothe you via hypnosis, and with the state of your mind you would happily agree. 

"Please do." 

He wouldn't offer if he didn't have the energy you knew this, a rather large argument took care of that when he'd overworked himself then passed out after hypnotising you once and a medic had to be rushed in. Needless to say, you weren't happy with his carelessness. And seeing how upset you were he agreed to be more careful with his health.

You didn't want to think anymore so as you lay there looking up at him with your tired eyes and weary mind, he smiles. He caresses your face and hair before taking a deep breath and reciting that familiar chant.

"Oh triple faced soul, allow me to take hold of this one's mind and soothe them of all worries and burdens. The word Beloved will be the catalyst for control."

With that simple incantation your mind belonged to Sunday for a short while. Your mind felt fuzzy and slow but not unpleasantly, the way it would when you achieved complete relaxation. 

Like he had done before, he would take you through your nightly routine with this hypnosis.

"Beloved, follow me to to the bathroom." He helped you up while your body automatically followed his words and stood up. 

Walking was about the most complex task you could complete, he wasn't Xipe Themself, so his power only went so far. 

"Beloved, lift your arms." 

You do as told and he aids in stripping you, ready to be cleaned. 

"Beloved, sit on this stool and close your eyes." 

You again do as told his voice muffled through the layers of hypnosis, but soothing nonetheless. "I am going to wash your face first darling." He always narrates what he does before doing it as not to startle you.

You felt a cool, wet, cloth glide over your face and you can't help but sigh with satisfaction. You feel it gently caress your cheeks and softly rub your eyes tickle behind your ears. You hear the cloth being rinsed and wrung, the muffled sounds of the water soothing you further.

"I am going to wash your upper body now darling." And, as before, you feel the damp cloth glide over your neck and upper body, letting him move you has he sees fit. Soft humming coming from him lulls you deeper into his hypnosis. The cloth glides down and caresses your chest before moving to wash your back. You'd make sounds of relaxed satisfaction if you could but your exhausted body coupled with the hypnosis has made your brain devoid of any thought or control. Just how you want it. 

He moves back to the front of you with a new cloth. "Beloved, spread your legs, I need to clean you." 

Your body complies without hesitation and that's what he does, making sure to be extra gentle around this sensitive area. He is thorough but doesn't linger long this time, not wanting to spark anything in you this evening.

Standing to switch the cloth again, "I'm going to wash your legs and feet now darling." Still being as gentle as ever his hands and the cloth slowly makes their way down your legs massaging them as they go. A light massage is given to your feet as well before he finishes and pats you dry with a towel before he deems your body clean.

"Beloved, open your mouth wide." 

He orders next, your mind too fuzzy to think of what else could be doing. You hear more water then feel a hand on your chin. "I'm going to brush your teeth darling." Then light scrubbing of your teeth and tongue can be felt, he is thorough with this area too. Not wanting to be the reason you have cavities he takes his time. Not too long later he finishes with you. You can hear things being put away and muffled sounds of him walking around you, maybe inspecting you. Before he stops in front and, 

"Beloved, open your eyes and stand up. Its time to go to bed."

You're led back into the bedroom now that he is satisfied that you are clean. "Beloved, are you ready to sleep?" 

Compelled to answer, you do. "yes"

"Beloved, do you want to sleep with me?"

"Yes"

"Good, let's get to sleep then shall we." 

The sounds of fabric and draws is all you hear for a moment before he guides you into bed with him. 

"Beloved, lay down." 

When he's satisfied you are comfortable You feel his soft skin against yours, the wings on his head lightly brushing your face in reverence before he pulls them back. It isn't often he blesses you with his naked body, the vulnerability gets to him at times. 

Once you've laid down and he's pulled you close he asked one more question.

"Beloved, are you ready to be released from hypnosis?"

"Yes"

As the words leave your lips he begins the incantation to remove his influence on your mind. 

"Oh triple faced soul, this one has completed this ones tasks and can now be freed from the shackles of my control with no burden."

Everything goes still as your senses return slowly, reacclimating you to reality. A few minutes pass of him softly stroking your head and neck while you come back to him.

"Thank you Sunday" a soft whisper conveying how grateful you are before you promptly pass out the exhaustion and relaxation hitting you full force as you melt into the bed and his arms.

"Oh my beloved, I'd do anything to see you happy and relaxed like this more often. I am grateful for all you do for me so it's only natural. I love you, so much my beloved."

He whispers to your sleeping self, pressing small kisses to your forehead, cheeks and nose. Watching the small twitches at the contact makes his evening and he feels like he too can finally relax.

[kingprinceleo]

just kinda a thing i wanted to say since ik i have younger artists following me (its applicable to everyone really, but very important to form care habits as early as possible) i read about others artists experiencing pain from overworking and i always thought to myself, i wouldnt let that happen to me, im real young, i still have time before i have to worry about really damaging my body

but your body really doesnt care, if you push yourself, if you ignore the pain, its going to fuck you up. maybe for the rest of your life please god take care of yourself when you draw, write, game, literally anything. stretch your wrists, fingers, dont keep your elbow in a locked a position for too long, especially dont lean on your elbows. get up around every 45 minutes, drink water, eat food, use the bathroom, stretch your whole body and your hands again. walk outside and let your eyes readjust your body is trying to communicate with you for a reason when you start hurting, please listen to it, be kind to yourself, you deserve it

[thepunkmuppet]

the reason why transfem elias is my favourite theory for gwendolyn is because think about the implications.

so let’s say this alternate universe reveals that elias is actually transgender, and would present/identify as female if they had the opportunity to figure themself out and transition (elias was reportedly very young when jonah possessed them)

then the idea that in the tma universe they not only didn’t live long enough to do that, but THEIR BODY WAS TAKEN OVER BY SOMEONE ELSE WHO THEN PRESENTED IN A MASCULINE WAY AND LIVED AS A MAN USING THEIR FACE AND BODY FOR OVER TWENTY YEARS?!? FUCKING TERRIFYING

as a trans person myself, even though the real elias was dead the dysphoria that idea gives me is absolutely unreal, and really creeps into serious body/existential horror territory which i think would be really interesting and very in-character for a writer like jonny to explore.