#i should probably just go on twitter more and turn off the part of my brain that understands ptbr whenever i see blocks of text/qrts

[atthebell]

atp this website should just let me opt in to tags im willing to see rather than blocking this many

Do you ever feel like you run out of qsmp content to consume on tumblr because of the blocked tags?

^ not at all a criticism of blocking tags, I do it liberally lol, just curious because it happens to me sometimes

not really; part of the reason why i have to block so many tags is because i follow so many people in order to see a lot of qsmp stuff. because i like keeping up to date with as many characters as possible i like to see a lot of stuff, but that also means seeing shit i don't want to see or seeing incredibly stupid & biased takes from people who only main one POV (at which point i usually just block and move on with my life; if you can't step outside your characters pov for single second, you're not working with this medium right).

i DO have issues with not seeing enough about roier and cellbit on my dash honestly-- i hear every detail about tubbo and bad and foolish's streams, but whenever i miss a cellbit stream i know ill have to watch it back myself because people won't have said what happened because there's such fewer cellbit fans on here, and same goes for roier. although there's definitely more spanish speakers on here than brazilians so i do get some of what happens on his streams. in general, though, there are like three people on here who care about cellbit enough to post about him and im one of them so :/ i need to up the propaganda or something i feel like im going insane

there's also far less fanart on here than there is for other mcyt fandoms, which is sad, so i do often find myself combing through every character's tag hoping to find new art but ive already found it all. this isn't a criticism of fanartists, qsmp just isn't as popular on here and that's reflected in the amount of art.

anyway i don't really have a hard time finding content about most characters but there's a few where it is a struggle, though not because of blocking tags. and the reason i block so many tags is because i just do not share the same taste in other media as the people i follow, so i pretty much have to block whatever other stuff they post about or ill want to scream. and bc i have every variation of cc & q neg blocked along with usual tws.

i suppose because of how many people i have blocked im probably missing some qsmp content, but i have people blocked because they're awful and post misinfo or are just annoying so like. im not gonna unblock them just to see bad analyses of bad or cellbit or tubbo on my dash. i have a few things that earn an instant block from me, and misinfo is a big one, along with just being mean as hell or bigoted in some way. idk im very particular about cultivating my dash and although im frustrated often, that's more due to the state of fandom & online culture in general at the moment (bad) than all that specific to this fandom.

[f0point5]

(I’m) charming and endearing, and (un)comfortable

Written companion piece to the Lando x fakegirlfriend!reader social media au

Set after Part 6, at the dinner with Lando’s dad that is mentioned.

A/N: So, those of you who were here for the Max fix know that I do long form writing exercises to get more of a feel for the characters for the smau. I didn’t share the Max ones while the fic was ongoing because my writing is not my favourite, but I do like providing more of an insight into the real life stuff that isn’t covered in the smau and especially the reader’s thoughts. And I like this is kind of needed for this smau especially. So, I’m not going to tag anyone in these so that if you’d rather just read the smau you don’t get caught up with these, but you can read them if you want more of an insight into the reader’s character. If you hate it…just pretend it never happened 🫠🫣

“You look fine,” you tell your reflection, staring at it right in the eyes.

Your gaze flits down to your simple black satin slip dress. Black Amina Muadi heels peek out from the hem. Single, but elegant, you think.

You look fine.

“You look fine.” You tell your reflection one more time, and she looks like she believes you.

Of course you look fine. You wouldn’t have a career if you didn’t. People have paid obscene amounts of money for your face and your body. You know exactly how much Lando Norris has paid. You put together something that accentuates your shape a bit but not so much that his dad would think you’re trying.

You haven’t met a parent in a while. Once you’d started shooting womenswear at 15, parents were rarely around, though occasionally you would run into an overbearing mother. You can’t remember ever meeting anyone’s father.

Your alarm rings, so it’s too late to change now. Steeling yourself with one last deep breath, you go over to the interconnecting door and knock.

On the other side of the door, something bangs, and then someone grunts, and you’re about to just give up on this whole idea before the door wings open to reveal a panting Lando Norris.

He’s dressed in beige chinos and a black polo shirt, showing off a golden tan. Okay, you’d let Twitter win this one; he’s beautiful.

“I thought you were going to-“ he starts, but then stops himself. You suppose he assumed you’d knock on the external door. “Never mind,”

“So,” you gesture to the space between you.

“Oh, yeah, come in,” he says, stepping aside to let you into his suite.

It’s huge. You survey the large living room. Several pairs of chinos sit in dry cleaning plastic on the couch. The remains of a fruit platter sits on the dining table. Two sets of golf clubs rest precariously on a wall in the corner. He’s a bit of a slob.

“What?” He asks you. You turn to him, surprised to find his cheeks slightly flushed.

“Nothing,” you shake your head and shrug, but he doesn’t stop studying you. He’s making an effort not to be obvious, but he’s assessing you from head to toe. It makes you squirm. “It’s okay? The look?”

His eyes widen. “The look’s incredible,” he says quickly, probably embarrassed you caught him looking. His cheeks turn even more red. “You’re-“

“Okay, we can go?” You cut him off, smoothing you already sleek up-do. He should turn the damn air conditioning on.

Lando motions for you to go ahead of him to the door and he trails behind you until he hurries past you to get the door. You head to the lift in silence, hair on the back of your neck prickling every time you feel his eyes linger on you.

You look fine. He would have told you if you didn’t.

“Thanks again for doing this,” he says, when you’re in the lift. You glance at him, finding him already looking at you with a shy smile that would have any woman on her knees right there.

You shrug. “It’s not a problem.”

“Probably not your idea of a fun evening,” he continues, and you wonder if he’s trying to convince you to call it off and go back upstairs.

“I was going to eat from the restaurant anyway.” You say, watching as he yawns. “You’re tired?”

“Yeah,” he nods. “Two sessions today. And quali always take a lot out of me, you know,”

You hum in response.

“I, uh,” he stops himself, and then notices you’re looking at him, so he sighs before continuing. “I actually did pretty well. At quali. Better than I thought I would, anyway. It’s…” he trails off, scratching at the back of his neck.

He looks sort of embarrassed to have even mentioned it. You almost give in and tell him you watched the qualifying live while doing your post flight skincare, but you don’t. You’re not sure why exactly, it just feels like you’d be committing to something, and don’t want to do that.

“Congratulations,” is all you end up saying, and then it’s back to silence.

When you get downstairs, three separate groups of girls ask for pictures with him. You stand aside awkwardly, watching the way these strangers lean into him and eagerly put their arms around him and stand so close. It makes your skin crawl. Lando doesn’t react to it. But then, you never do, either.

He apologises for the interruption and you wave it off, embarrassed that he might have noticed your discomfort. It’s not your business.

Inside the restaurant, Lando gently directs you towards a table by the window where his dad is waiting. You’d googled him, so you knew what he liked like, but the photos didn’t do justice to the serenity that rolls off this man in waves.

He stands when he sees you, opening his arms to his son. Lando steps into his embrace with no hesitation, and you wonder if that’s why he’s not bothered so much by the closeness of strangers. Maybe you wouldn’t mind being touched if anyone had ever touched you like that.

When they part, you pull your lips into a smile and step forward.

“Good evening, Mr. Norris. I’m Y/N,”

Adam’s wide smile falters for a second. “Of course I know that,” he says with a chuckle, beckoning you over. You oblige, and he leans in to kiss you on both cheeks. “Who wouldn’t recognise his son’s girlfriend, eh? And please, call me Adam,”

“D’accord.” When both men raise an eyebrow, you explain, “it means okay,”

“Ah,” Adam says with a sage nod, sitting down.

You startle when Lando pulls your chair out for you, flashing him what you hope is a grateful look rather than a confused one.

“I learnt French all through school but I’ve forgotten it all, unfortunately,” Adam says.

“I got the duolingo for it, but it’s harder than you think,” Lando chips in.

“Surely Y/N could teach you,”

“I’m too strict for him,” you joke, forcing yourself not to react when you feel Lando rest his arm on the back of your chair.

“Is that so,” Adam says, catching your eye.

You know the looks he’s giving you. It’s the look a casting director gets when they meet you and you aren’t quite what they asked for. That look they get in their eyes as they decide if you’re a good enough compromise is the same one Adam Norris is giving you now.

He’s the worst kind of casting director - the type that will try to make small talk as if they don’t have your life in numbers printed out in front of them; the type to make you laugh so they can judge the shade and angle of your teeth. Not content with your time, they demand a performance.

So you perform.

You order pasta instead of salad because being thin is most appreciated when it’s effortless. You tease Lando endlessly because the brits like to make fun of each other. You pretend you’re duly nervous when Adam speaks to you and not nervous every time Lando does.

You’re not sure if Adam buys into it. He and Lando have an easy and intoxicating rapport that you’re powerless to replicate. Lando’s admiration of his dad is almost palpable, and Adam’s adoration is plain to see. He loves his son so much that you think it must be clear to him that you don’t.

But he’s clever, and funny, and more gracious than you deserve. He’s so guileless that you understand why Lando would want to shield him from the truth of your situation. You feel a little guilty, being part of the lie, and even more guilty for being part of the truth, but you push that all down, reminding yourself that these people have no more to do with you than a photographer or a designer on a shoot.

By the time dinner comes to an end, you’re exhausted. You can taste blood in your mouth from chewing the inside of your cheek, and you feel sick from the Chardonnay that Adam ordered that you had to pretend to like on an empty stomach.

The knot in your chest loosens with every step the three of you take towards the lifts. Lando and Adam joke about what they’re going to eat for dinner after the race and you almost burst into tears at the thought of doing this all again tomorrow.

“I’m so glad I finally got to meet you,” Adam says with what you’ve come to believe is a trademark wide smile. “Honestly I was starting to think he’d made it up, getting the most beautiful girl in the world to go out with him,”

Ha. Most beautiful. Maybe when you were six, all lithe and pouty and innocent. Maybe when you were seventeen, no curves or dark circles or opinions. Not now.

He’s teasing you, not laughing at you, but your body can’t tell the difference.

You think you feel the bile rising up your throat but thankfully Lando cuts in before you have to.

“Dad,” he chides through clenched teeth and a pained smile. When you turn to him the blush that has become quite familiar to you is back with a vengeance, and spreading all the way to his ears.

“What? It’s not bad to say your girlfriend is beautiful,” Adam teases, turning to you. “Is it, Y/N?”

“I would be worried if he didn’t. It’s how I stay employed, after all,” you say with a smile. Your response is effortless, well rehearsed, right down to the way you lift your hand to ghost over your collarbone.

“Must be a glamorous life, being a model,” Adam says thoughtfully. You may not have any experience meeting parents, but you know well enough what he’s getting at.

You lift one shoulder in a shrug. “No more glamorous than being a formula one driver. And I’m sure you know from Lando that glamour doesn’t mean comfort. Very often the opposite, if my shoes are any indication,”

He’s taken aback by your answer, doesn’t even bother to hide his raised eyebrows. “No, that’s-“ he lets out a sigh. “That’s very true. You’ve got a wise one here, mate,”

“Yeah, she’s keeping me out of trouble,” Lando jokes, nudging you, and though it doesn’t hurt you feel a sting where his skin touched yours.

“I don’t doubt it,” Adam says, opening his arms to hug you again. “Go easy on him though, eh?” These words are half whispered as he pulls you close, squeezing you just once before he lets you go.

“I will,” you promise. It’s one you’ll try to keep.

He hugs Lando next, a tight one, cradling the back of his son’s head with a gentle tap.

“Well,” he says to both of you, “it’s been lovely to meet you, Y/N. I’m just going to check the front desk has organised my taxi to the airport on Monday, so I’ll see you both tomorrow,”

“Night, Dad,”

“Love you.”

Adam heads off to the desk just as the lift arrives and you dart into it. You’re too tired to even press the button for your floor but Lando takes care of it.

He lets out a heavy breath, looking over at you as though thinking you might do the same. He doesn’t realise your night isn’t over until he’s gone, too.

“I think that went well,” he says. It’s a confident statement said in an uncertain tone, and you can’t help but feel bad. It’s not as though he was the one who had to make a good impression.

“I’m sorry if I’m not-“ you stop yourself. It’s not your fault. “If he didn’t like me. I hope it won’t cause problems for you,”

Lando looks completely nonplussed by your comment. “Of course he liked you,” he says with reassuring scoff and a smile, as if anything else is unimaginable. “And he’s not really that kind of dad. He just cares that I like you,”

God, that smile. You’d hate yourself for the things you’d do to keep him smiling at you like that.

“I think you faked that well,” you say, smiling back at him.

He shrugs and shoves his hands in his pockets. “Thanks for doing this,” he clears his throat. “Still don’t know why you did,”

He’s expecting an answer and you struggle for something to tell him. You don’t know what answer he’s looking for.

You can feel the pressure building as he waits for you to say something. You can hear the blood rushing in your ears. Your skin bursts into flames and your palms get clammy.

Why is he even asking? He didn’t think twice about asking you for a favour and now he’s changing the rules. It was dinner, not a kidney. Does he have so many vampires around him that he thinks you need a reason to be nice? Is he so used to paying for kindness that he thinks he needs to buy you, too? Didn’t he already try?

Thankfully, mercifully, the lift stops at your floor and you waste no time stepping out even though you’re beginning to feel unsteady on your feet.

The air conditioning hits you, and you realise you don’t owe Lando an explanation.

“You can just say thank you, you know,” you tell him, striding towards your rooms with him half a step behind. “You don’t have to think so much about it.”

“I did say thank you,” he argues. You glance at him as you pull out your keycard. He’s bewildered. You’re breaking your promise to Adam already, but it’s his sanity or yours.

“De rien.” You place your key card against the censor and open the door. “Goodnight.”

Once you slip inside, the door clicks shut with no trouble, and you wait to hear Lando’s door open and shut before you make your way further into the room. You kick off your shoes and shed your dress on the way to your suitcase.

You can hear him moving around in his suite, more attuned to it now you know the layout of the room. As you rummage around for your sweatpants and hoodie, half of you wants to send an apology text. The stupid half of you. It doesn’t matter what he thinks of you. You can’t afford for it to matter. The weight of his judgement will crush you, you know it.

As you pull on the brown Quadrant hoodie, you tell yourself it’s better he doesn’t think of you at all.

[modelbus]

Ahem- hey- uh- I-

…NOW I FEEL LIKE TOMMY TUBBO WILBUR AND RANBOO IN PART TWO- HELP FFJYTFJHTYTFTH

SOOOOO- HI THERE ITS ME ✨🌌🌙 ANNON, THE DISAPPEARING ANNON- LOOK- I-

OKAY SO EXPLANATION TIME, I HONESTLY THOUGHT MY CRAPPY REQUEST WOULD BE IGNORED- I ALSO HAVE NOT BEEN ON TUMBLR SINCE LIKE A WEEK AFTER I SENT IT- I COME BACK TO READ SOME STUFF FROM OUR GOOD OLD LORD AND SAVIOR MODEL, TO SEE; ONE IT WAS RECENTLY YA BIRTHDAY! (Happy late birthday-) AND TWO.. MY REQUEST WAS TURNED INTO A MASTER PEICE OF AGES WITH TWO WHOLE PARTS, I APPARENTLY HELPED GET YOU OUT OF A WRITING SLUM- AND PEOPLE ACTUALLY REALLY LIKED MY CRUMMY IDEA (Thanks to your POGGERS writing)

so basically- THANK YOU ‘O GREAT MODEL FOR HEARING MY PLEA AND DELIVERING GREATNESS!!!

also I am gonna try and be more active on tumblr now so like- yey.

ALSO ALSO, I may sometimes send in requests of my silly little ideas cuz like chaos cut fed my soul and I am now the ✨ H a p p e h ✨

ALSO ALSO ALSO, part three of chaos cut???, we are at home and get messages asking like “Yo we good now? You forgive us for being assholes??” and we say smth like “you gonna respond to my messages? Then sure” some kind of tweet is made could be as vague as “shes gonna be in videos again yayyy” or could be the group admitting to what happened?? *eyes* maybe responses from other friends?? Ofc that is a suggestion for if you decide to further continue.

wether you decide to continue it or not or you decide to use this or not, thank you so much, chaos cut was all I wanted it to be and more.

I’M BACK BABYYY!!

-All the love, ✨🌌🌙 Annon.

You live!! And I’d love to receive more of your amazing little ideas :) honestly, I’d write 500 parts of Cut Chaos

I probably formatted this weird because of the messages part and the Twitter part but Oh Well.

Pairing(s): cc!Ranboo, cc!Tubbo, cc!Wilbur and cc!Tommy x Fem!Reader (Platonic)

Cut Chaos Part 3

The day you spent with Ranboo, Tubbo, Wilbur, and Tommy after the store might’ve been the best day you’ve ever had. You’re finally able to breathe again, to laugh again. Smiling had started drifting away from you, but suddenly you were smiling so hard your cheeks hurt.

You almost don’t go home. It’s tempting to stay with Ranboo when he offers up one of their many spare bedrooms (and you do mean many), but you decline. Heading back home, closing the door to your bedroom is easier than it’s ever been. Just living is easier than it used to be.

Collapsing onto your bed, it only takes you a second before you start grinning like an idiot to yourself. Things are back to normal, back to how they should be. Sure, you could still be mad at them for what happened, but you were tired of not being around them. Tired of people being pissed off.

It takes you a full three minutes before you roll onto your side and unlock your phone with Face ID. There’s a plethora of notifications waiting for you, from a group chat that you thought was a ghost town. It makes you grin all over again.

Wilbur so we’re all good now?

Tommy yeah, u forgive us for being assholes??

Tubbo Becuase we r super sorry

You You guys gonna respond to my messages from now on?

Ranboo I promise on Tommy’s life

You Then yeah

Tommy HEY

Laughing to yourself, you swipe out of messages to open Twitter and scroll on it. You aren’t afraid to open it, not like you used to be. Random tweets would remind you of what you lost, of the various people confused why you lost it, but now you’re just giddy. Overjoyed.

Part of you wanted to announce the plans you made with Wilbur, Tommy, Tubbo, and Ranboo. Scream from the (metaphorical) rooftops of Twitter that you were back. The chaos squad was back.

But, as it turns out, Tommy beat you to it. Of course he did, he can’t keep his mouth shut for the life of him. In a loving way, of course.

tommyinnit ﹫Tommyaltinnit guess who is BACK in the NEW VLOG

|_ You ﹫Yourusername me BITCHES

|_ Nia ﹫randomfanpersondontworry OMG OMG OMG NO WAY !!! CHAOS SQUAD ISNT DEAD FUCK ALL OF YOU IM WINNING TODAY

You grin, scrolling through the replies to Tommy’s tweet—including Tubbo and Ranboo’s—then realize the group name is trending. With wide eyes, you switch what you’re scrolling through to read the new tweets.

Annon ﹫StarStarMoon Anyone know what happened between the chaos squad??? Like they all drop her and now she’s back?? Something definitely happened…

|_ Real Person ﹫RealpersonIcreated THIS! Why did nobody talk about it. I wanna know fr fr

|_ Max ﹫Myfriendsnameisbeingused I think they all dropped her over those rumors ages ago. Makes sense to me tbh

|_ Charlie ﹫Myotherfriendsnameisbeingused Totally on her side if something did happen honestly lmao

Oh, fuck. You hesitate, not sure what to do, then ignore the tweet and its replies. Things were good, you didn’t need to dwell on when they were bad. Let people be people and let them speculate all they want.

This was your life and your happiness. Returned, at last.

[junktastic]

I had a drawing months back that went kinda viral I guess, and it getting out of my normal sphere of followers meant that I got to observe how folks far outside of my twitter sphere interact with twitter and others. For reference, I am talking about this image:

The context, besides getting to draw my friend Jenny, was that I saw a picture that was of an anime girl that said "lets be in our early 30s together" and I was like "haha, I will make my own version of this." Part of it was also that I think aging is fine, and we need to stop stressing so much over staying young. "Lets be in our mid-thirties together" is not a joke, I sincerely wanted this image to be warm and inviting, to maybe give people hope that there will be friends and people who love you once you get to that age. I never thought I was going to make it to 30, and I just turned 35 this year, and I'm the happiest I've ever been.

Some responses were obviously teens/early 20s people saying they don't want to get that old, which is whatever. When you're that young the dirty thirty sounds so ugly. No one cool is in their 30s! Well, if you ignore the people who make all the things they like. These responses I waved these off.

I saw the typical twitter experience replies of "this doesn't apply to me?" Ok bitch! Go make your own like I did! And show me when you do, I'd love to see it!

There was a handful of people who were saying "retweet to scare a twink" which I felt was kind of rude. Not to me, but to the twinks out there. Aging doesn't make you less of a twink.

Lots of people were sending it to their significant others or saying they hope to find someone to be in their mid-thirties with, which I love. :3 It makes me happy!

The one kind of response which is what I made this post for and I'm so sorry that I've been rambling, that I found weird was the people who will reply to just you. The OP. As if they are replying to everyone in the thread. I'm not talking about in QRTs, just straight in the replies. "Don't forget how tired she looks in this." Brother I drew the picture. I know. And ever since then I feel like, as someone who loves to read the replies on other people's tweets, I notice this a lot more often. Who are they talking to? Is this what people are referring to when they say "Main Character Syndrome?" Or should I be lumping these together with the "why isn't this about my exact personal life situation" people?

My fiancé says I'm thinking about this too hard (I got engaged last month btw), and he's probably right. I can't help but be curious about how other people choose to interact with the internet and images and people on it. And, I guess, am I supposed to reply? How should I feel about these. I guess I have to decide that on my own.

For the record, you are all very normal/understandable when it comes to what you guys tag my stuff with. That you love the girls (same!), that they're very gender (love this), or wow is this [insert fetish](not my intention but that's the internet). I feel like the slime girls get the "gender" comment the most and you are all so right for that. Every time I see people reblog my ocs I think "Thank you for loving [name]."

That's all! This was a pointless post but I'm unemployed right now so I have too much time to overthink things for no reason. How do YOU feel about how people interact with your posts? Are they weird? Or are they normal about it.

[asexualasshat]

Y’all remember the tiktok trend where grown ups realized that they’d forgotten how to skip. Headcannon that one, a few years after Derry part 2, Richie is being a silly sappy little fellow. Starts skipping while he and Eddie are a park or whatever. He grabs Eddie’s hand to bring him along for the ride. And Eddie??? Understands the hypothetical concept of skipping. And yet his feet? Doing a sort of botched gallop.

And Richie LOSES IT! Starts roasting him. And Eddie is freaking tf out. He’s yelling but also still trying to figure skipping out. You can’t really tell if he’s yelling more at Richie or at himself. And he’s still galloping away. Richie is on the ground, holding his face in his hands to muffle his laughter.

Eventually, Richie gets up and he starts coaching Eddie. Twenty minutes later, they’re hand in hand, skipping down the path.

Richie didn’t have a choice but to tell the losers everything. And the groupchat?? LOSES IT! At first? Just roasts tf out of Eddie at first. Ben comes to his defence pretty quickly. And then asks “when was the last time you guys skipped? Are you sure you remember?”

And the accusations fly right back at Ben. Asking him if he can skip. And Ben??? In his office wearing his fancy designer work clothes???? Takes a video of himself skipping. And he sure can skip! When he’s done showing off he comes close to the camera and says “we just had a daughter. I’ve prepared.”

And again, they’re going wild. Within minutes, videos start pouring in. Bev is first, obviously immediately ready to support her husband. She’s a dazzling skipper. She’d win first prize in a skipping competition. The technique is impeccable.

Stan is next. He gets Patty into it as well, to know one’s surprise. Neither is perfect. Patty’s footwork isn’t perfect but she has pizazz. Stan is pure technique, to the point that it’s awkwardly stiff. But the pair are smiling and skipping so it doesn’t even matter. Their own daughter just toddles around in the background. Kind of embarrassing for her, but she doesn’t know what embarrassment is yet.

Mike is out in a field, phone probably propped up on his water bottle or a log. He’s mostly just frolicking around, but there’s a few solid skips in there. It’s gloriously cinematic.

Audra is on camera next, and bill can be heard saying “show me! I want to see.” She hangs in the air longer than any mortal should be able to. Her flowy dress flounces out. She giggles in response to bill saying “wow!” and “you’re really good!”

But then hepassed the phone to Audra. Of course they don’t think to stop filming in between, so you hear all the shuffling. Audra says “okay, show me!” And Bill?? The bitch can’t get his feet off the ground. There’s no elevation at all. Audra is losing her mind. She’s scream laughing. Bill looks devastated.

A moment after his own roasting begins, bill texts back “so does this mean I’m a bad dad?” And immediately it turns to dad comfort. Ben’s “kids don’t usually start to try skipping until they’re four. You have two years to practice!” And Stan’s “your son is going to see you learn and grow as a man. You’re setting a great example.” Its really quite wholesome.

Obviously someone filmed it in the park. The world sees the graceful pursuit of Eddie learning to skip. Twitter obviously loves it because it so so silly and sweet. Richie tweets something stupid like (and funnier than) “bet your husband can’t skip, either.”

And Bev, because she has notifications on for Richie, immediately replies with Ben’s video and saying “my husband could beat your husband”

More videos start pouring in. Stan keeps their video as a groupchat exclusive, but tweets from his rarely active account “Richie I literally taught you how to skip when you were 6.” Richie responds calling him a bitch.

Bill posts their video saying “watch me realize I can’t skip.”

And later. Hours later. Many. Hours. Later. Audra posts a video to her insta story. She has taught Bill how to skip. Is it graceful? No. Does it have technique? No. Could you call it good? No. But goddamn he skipped.

Eddie holds it over him for weeks that he’s the better beginner skipper

[pommpuriinn]

₍^ >ヮ<^₎ .ᐟ.ᐟ 2023 KBS MUSIC BANK GLOBAL FESTIVAL/BEHIND THE SCENES 

‪⋅˚₊‧ synopsis‧₊˚ ⋅ the last event of 2023 for txt and of course they had to end it with a bang

Red carpet outfit | makeup | nails | hair

᧔o᧓ the flashing lights were blinding and the photographers yelling out the members names was nothing new to the group. They kept their smiles on and continued posing until the MC came to ask questions.

᧔o᧓ “Joohyung-ssi how does it feel to finally perform one of your songs with a few of your members?” The MC asked. “I’m so excited! I always wanted to do this. I hope moa are just as excited and please cheer loudly for us.” Joohyung got embarrassed towards the end making everyone chuckle.

᧔o᧓ the MC made them each turn and say something nice to another. Beomgyu looked at Joohyung and even before saying anything the photographers went crazy with snapping pictures of the couple. With the sudden action made both of laugh. Beomgyu cleared his throat before speaking, “Joohyung is the definition of a perfect idol that our group is very proud of.” It was short and sweet which made Joohyung beam at him.

᧔o᧓ Joohyung turned to Yeonjun “um…” Joohyung was getting embarrassed again. “Y-you practice so hard and I admire you a lot for how hard working you are…um yeah.”

“Noona what was that?” Yeonjun laughed while hugging a flustered Joohyung. “I’m sorry, I was put on the spot.” Joohyung covered her face with her hands. “It’s ok noona.” Yeonjun rubbed her back comforting her.

᧔o᧓ Joohyung did go viral from her abs being more defined along with her elegant looks throughout the night. With her pearly white hair color Joohyung was called ice queen all over social media.

Gotta Go outfit | makeup | hair

᧔o᧓ the second those stage lights turned on the whole venue filled with screams. The trio just had a chic aura to them with this performance. Joohyung combined the original feminine dance moves with a masculine touch to them to suit Yeonjun and Beomgyu better in the company opinion. Joohyung would still dance to the original choreo towards the end of the main chorus.

᧔o᧓ Yeonjun and Joohyung got to share the high note with each other which moas erupted with cheer. Soon after the high note Joohyung got on the floor to so you iconic leg move. This performance was definitely the talk of the night and probably the most anticipated one.

The main performance outfit | makeup | hair

᧔o᧓ during ‘CTF’ the camera zoomed in on Joohyung during her part and she gave a flirty wink causing moas to scream. During the performance Joohyung felt her hair get caught on the gems on her jean jacket, so when it was time to take them off for ‘Tinnitus’ the jacket took some of Joohyung’s hair out of her braid. She held in her whimper from the pain and continued on performing.

᧔o᧓ many people praised Joohyung for doing hard choreo in heels, singing live while dancing, and for her amazing facial expressions.

✩┈┈∘*┈୨୧┈*∘┈┈✩

Practice outfit

᧔o᧓ “I miss the memo today.” Joohyung laughed, as she looked at her pink set and the all the members dark fits. The video then cut to the members looking at Joohyung’s abs, “I’m jealous of noona.” Kai pointed at Joohyung’s stomach. “You should come with us to the gym then.” Joohyung teased Kai. “I’m lazy~”

᧔o᧓ Soobin made Joohyung practice with him for his stage with Arin from Oh My Girl. He kept on smiling and laughing at Joohyung straight face while doing such a lively dance. “Noona you have to act cute!” Soobin whined, as he kept on dancing. “Fine.” Joohyung switch to being cute making Soobin burst out laughing.

᧔o᧓ the video shows the new trio practicing for ‘Gotta Go’. “Joohyung how about we do this-” Yeonjun shows what he thinks looks better in the dance. “Let’s try it.” The three continue practicing. Joohyung even practices her singing while dancing causing moas to go crazy on twitter with all the clips of her raw vocals.

᧔o᧓ Joohyung came to support Yeonjun as he was going to film his VCR intro. “It’s looks so good.” Joohyung watched Yeonjun through the tv. Once Yeonjun came back out of breath Joohyung immediately gave him a water bottle and hugged him, “you did so good junie-ah~”

᧔o᧓ it was now Soobin’s turn to perform his duo stage and just before leaving Joohyung stopped him to fixed his hair and outfit one last time. “There, you’re perfect.” She smiled up at him. “Thank you noona.” He just wanted to squeeze her with how endearing she was being.

᧔o᧓ “woah, woah, noona you look so chic!” Taehyun big boba eyes stare at Joohyung’s whole look. “Thanks, I really love it.” Joohyung looked into the mirror while fixing little things about her stage outfit. “Want me to take photos for you?” Yeonjun asked, already getting his phone ready. Joohyung gasped, “will you?” Yeonjun hummed ‘yes’ and already started pointing the camera towards Joohyung. They spent a good 10 minutes takes pictures, some solos pics then duo, and finally many trio ones. Just before leaving to the stage Joohyung started warming up her vocals and singing her parts. “I have to make sure my voice is in good condition before going.” Joohyung did feel a bit of pressure to perform the best she can, especially with this anticipated stage.

᧔o᧓ Joohyung came back to the waiting room squealing with happiness. “We were so good! I couldn’t even hear because of the cheers.” Everyone clapped and explained how good it looked. “I heard it through my ear-ins.” Beomgyu told the camera.

᧔o᧓ the group got a little break before their main group performance since they only had to perform short versions of their individual stages because they pre recorded the day prior. Joohyung mainly just fell asleep on the couch while Taehyun and Yeonjun did mini workouts.

᧔o᧓ the camera showed Soobin watching the ‘Gotta Go’ performance. “Woah they did a good job. Noona look so pretty with her makeup.” He chuckled while fixing his ear-ins and headset mic.

᧔o᧓ finally the members were done with all their performances and the cameraman showed them walking back into their waiting room. “Look there’s a chuck of my hair stuck.” Joohyung showed the camera her white hair strands clinging into the jewels of the jacket. “Did it hurt?” Yeonjun gasped at the sight. “It did! I had to hold in the pain.” Joohyung threw the jacket onto a makeup chair. “I had to suck in the tear that was coming out because of how hard I pulled it.” Joohyung cried, as she threw herself in the couch. 

᧔o᧓ “I think moas will enjoy all of our performances from today and we really enjoy performing all of our songs.” Joohyung did a mini clap, as she spoke. “Everyone did an amazing job today. Well done!” The members clapped before saying ‘fighting!’ 

[violetarks]

track 30: i'd never do that

"fuck." y/n said, wiping her eyes as she turned from the crowd, walking off the stage as soon as the curtains closed. she just... couldn't stop crying. all because of some song...

"y/n..." armin said, standing at her side. he rubs her back and takes the bass from her. the crowd continues to cheer loudly, claps and chants emerging from behind the curtains. "it's okay. c'mon, let's get you—"

they were interrupted by jean standing up loudly from his seat, storming off the stage and towards their change rooms. everyone's eye fell on him, watching his forced steps as he walked passed them all and the stage crew. eren and mikasa follow after, armin and y/n walking off next.

it was only truly a week ago that they all found out about marco's death, and having to preform to avoid any more backlash. unhappy fans ruled their twitter pages due to the postponed shows, and though levi advised against returning, the five of them agreed to come back. it was work... and they couldn't stop.

although what porco said was true, it was also true that the fans had control over their jobs. they could only enjoy their work if they had those fans. and using their friend's death as an excuse was no option. they didn't want to use it, and the fans had no right to know.

it was a bump in the road, is all.

"we did well tonight." mikasa says, sitting beside y/n. she holds her hand tightly. "you two did very well."

"i fucked up the tempo in the first song, made it too fast." jean complains, laying on the other couch.

"and i forgot my part for the whole first verse and just didn't play." y/n added in, leaning her head back.

"nobody even noticed, we didn't." eren says, sitting on the armrest of jean's couch. that may have a been a tiny lie, he definitely noticed and the looks that armin and mikasa shared on stage showed so too. armin stands nearby, pouring water for everyone. eren ruffles jean's hair gently. "you two did great. don't question it."

the two become quiet, silently thinking to themselves of what to do now. they had two more shows, two more shows and they could go home. and rest, and think, and be better.

"y/n? your phone's been buzzing like crazy." armin says, looking down at your device.

"huh? it's probably twitter. pass it 'ere." you say, holding out your hand. armin passes you the phone as you stand up, grabbing tissues to wipe your face. armin takes your spot. lo and behold, you were right. "i'm gonna talk a walk, alright?"

"don't go too far, we're gonna' leave soon." eren says as you wave your hand and leave the room.

you walk through the backstage halls until you make it outside. it's a restricted area, so no fans were there. and since everyone else was packing up the stage, you were alone.

but you unlock your phone, seeing thousands of twitter notifications and a few texts from porco. you stop yourself when you feel relieved.

when did you start feeling relieved about porco? when did he start making you feel that way?

you couldn't deny that sense of happiness you felt when you saw his picture show up on screen, though. maybe you should answer him.

track 29 | track list | track 31

anime: attack on titan (band! au)

character: porco galliard

summary: y/n, the bassist of the band 'paradís', finds herself in middle of a 'publicity stunt' with none other than a rival band's drummer. porco, the mentioned member of 'marley', doesn't care about her at all. but they can only ignore each other for so long.

status: ongoing

warnings: afab! reader, she/her pronouns used

taglist: @makimakimi @hanmascult @ally22042000 @rozewayne2005 @keithandlevi-ontheroof @qaahnarin @queen-flower @id-rather-be-an-outsider @onlylowercase @tonysttank @a-little-pebbl @hannahalanib1 @moonshineandclearskies @aqueerincrisis @tati-the-fangirl @cheesechopchive-blog

[mapileonxputellas]

Best Christmas Present (Alexia Putellas x Reader)

Loved this Christmas one! Please send in anymore Christmas ideas... Requests 1, 2 and 3. 3k words x

“Final question for Y/N before we move onto Alexia.”

The joys of being the vice-captain of Barcelona meant joining Alexia for the press conference before the final game of the year. It felt like the middle of the night as you pulled up at the training session, hours before the training session all to face the questions of the media.

Having Alexia with you made it bearable, the two of you having been in a relationship for over four years now. The 7am wake up didn’t feel too bad when you were greeted with the love of your life in your shared home with Nala asleep at your feet.

“Y/N, how would you assess the season so far and what plans have you got for the Christmas break?”

A seemingly meaningless question to probably everyone in the room but one that brought up a touchy subject for yourself.

“In terms of the season so far I am pleased with both my own performance and the team overall but we know we cannot rest on that going into the new year. We’re more determined than ever to keep that unbeaten record in the league and reach the Champions League final again. We miss Alexia and others on the pitch at times but we’re trying to find alternative ways to break teams down effectively.” You answered, feeling your heart almost beat out of your chest as you thought about the second part of your answer. “I’m going to take the Christmas break to rest up and recharge ready for the new year in Spain.”

Out of all the things you loved about being Australian, the distance between there and your now home in Spain was not one of them. Christmas had never been an issue before, with the long break in the league you usually had time to travel there and back but this year the league structure meant that wouldn’t be possible and your parents’ health problems meant they couldn’t make the reverse journey.

“So you’re not travelling to Australia?”

“Sadly not.”

A simple answer but saying it out loud every time made it more real for you. Feeling a little nudge of your feat you slightly turned your head to find Alexia almost assessing you, making sure you weren’t going to breakdown so you sent her a weak smile accompanied by your blurry eyes.

Her smile immediately dropped noticing your mood and slightly scooted her chair over so her hand could grasp your own and draw patterns on your hand to calm you down.

The rest of the press conference was a blur for you, just focusing on the hand connected to your own and vaguely listening to Alexia. All you could think about was the new-found reality that you would be celebrating Christmas alone this year. This was your favourite holiday and it wouldn’t be the same on your own with no-one to celebrate with. This time the final question was a blessing as you quickly thanked the media before shuffling out of your seat.

You could feel Alexia’s eyes on you as you walked out the door but you didn’t have any time to talk about what had happened as you were thrust into a full changing room ready for the training session.

“Here come the love birds.” Claudia shouted as you entered. Trying to distract yourself you went straight over to your cubby between Ana and Jana. “Can’t even keep your hands off each other for twenty minutes.”

“Leave them alone.” Ana defended you. “They’re just in love.”

“What are you talking about anyway?” You questioned, quickly trying to change into the training gear.

“Let’s just say you weren’t as subtle as you thought you were.” Jana teased as you sat down. The young girl had spent a lot of time with both you and Alexia and often referred to you as her team mum.

“What?”

“Alexia getting handsy.” Mapi interrupted her. “You should see twitter honestly it’s like you’ve got married never mind just held hands in a press conference.”

“I thought it was cute.” Ingrid added. “Don’t listen to them.”

“I always preferred your girlfriend Mapi.”

“Right back at ya.”

Just as you finished tying your boot laces a hand came and rested on your knee before your girlfriend came into your vision, kneeling down in front of you. Her glances around the room gave away that she was waiting for the room to clear before she spoke.

“Are you ok?” She whispered. “Why didn’t you tell me….”

“Can we do this later? Please.” You almost begged, not wanting to get upset and then have to go out into the cold.

“Promise you’ll talk to me later.”

“I promise.” You replied, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Thank you for back there.”

“Anything for you.”

….

You avoided the conversation for as long as you possible could by busying yourself around other people. Offering to give Jana a lift home who lived round the corner from you both, taking the longest shower possible and busying yourself with making tea before you sat down together for dinner, ready to face the music.

The silence was overwhelming as you both sat down, twirling the pasta round your fork as you avoided eye contact. Slowly making your way through the meal.

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” Alexia broke the silence.

“It’s complicated Alexia.”

“What’s complicated for me is the fact that you didn’t want to tell me.”

“There’s nothing you can do though, your family is here and mine’s not.” You wiped away the sole tear that was slowly trickling down your face. “I thought they were going to come here but then with their latest problems the health insurance wouldn’t cover them. But it’s fine, I’ve got everything I need here and we can celebrate together the day after.”

This time though it was Alexia who was confused. “What?”

“It’s fine at least you’ll get two Christmases.”

“Babe take a step back, I’m not letting you spend Christmas day alone.”

“I mean what other choice do I have?”

“Spend it with us.” She reached over to grab your hand. “My mum always cooks enough for the whole village and she loves you.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because that’s your family Ale.”

Well and truly before this year you’d never even had the option of celebrating Christmas together with the distance between you all. “They’re your family too and before you ask whether they’d be OK with it, my mum will be just worried the whole day if she knows you’re spending the day alone.”

“I feel like I’d be intruding.”

“I promise you wouldn’t be, this past year you’ve been a rock to me and my family and we owe you this at least.”

“You don’t owe me anything Ale.”

“I do, you gave up so much of your time watching me playing football, all those nights you stayed with me in hospital and then you’ve been the brunt of all my mood swings.”

“I did it because I love you.”

“And I love you so let me do this for you now.” Ale slipped out of her seat before gently sitting on your lap. “You know one day we’ll have both our families together, little ones running around and we won’t be the guests anymore. Consider this the first step in that, I don’t want to spend Christmas apart from you any longer, I’ve done that for four years and that’s long enough.”

“You’re a good persuader Miss Putellas.” She was getting to you and the smirk on her face said she knew that as her fingers gently dragged back and forth on your exposed collar bone.

“Please, I won’t be able to celebrate if I know you’re here all alone.”

“I’m calling your mum tomorrow and double checking this is alright with her.”

“Is that a yes?”

Reaching up you gently grabbed her chin to draw your eyes together. “Yes Ale, I’d love to spend Christmas with you.” The only way to seal the deal was with a kiss which you almost immediately pulled away from as a thought came into your head. “I need a full list of who will be there so I can add them to the Christmas present list.”

“Babe I’ve already started just putting both our names on them.”

“Really?”

“Well the shit ones I just put your names on.”

“Very funny.”

Moments like these cemented how much you loved the woman on your lap, throughout all the moments her newfound fame had given her she was still your Ale. As your lips gently caressed each other’s you thought of the perfect way to thank her for all of this to truly show how much you loved her and thankfully you knew exactly how you could do that.

….

Christmas with the Putellas family was definitely an experience. You knew how much Eli loved being a host and that showed on Christmas day.

From the beginning you were made to feel just as much a part of the family as Alba and Alexia: from the stocking embroidered with your name on to the heap of presents for you. It almost made you emotional thinking about the family that you had gained from your love for the Spaniard.

The day however only grew from there with family member after family member being welcomed into the house. Even though you had met everyone before it was still quite overwhelming so you tried to help Eli as much as possible in the kitchen. Cooking was definitely your other passion away from football and it helped you to forget about all the craziness going in the other room.

“How is my favourite daughter finding today?” Eli asked as she wrapped an arm around your shoulder before dropping down into a whisper. “Have you got a plan yet?”

Before you could even answer though another voice piped in. “Wow mama you could at least pretend not to have favourites.”

You loved Alba like a sister and you knew she was only joking, further shown as she joined you in a group hug. “Alba is just jealous.”

“No me and Alexia always knew you was the favourite. Alexia sent me to get you by the way, we’re playing games with the children.”

“Tell her I’m helping mama.”

“No you go.” Eli almost pushed you out, giving you her best authoritative look. “You’ve helped me more than enough today.”

“I’ll be back.” You promised.

The living room was far from the quiet serenity of the kitchen, both the sofas were filled with extended family, children were scattered across the carpet playing all sorts of different games and you found your girlfriend on the armchair trying to work out the latest game they wanted to play. You couldn’t help but watch as she tried to answer the questions of her young cousins all whilst looking incredible in the black blazer set she’d settled on, a stark contrast to your red dress. Your thoughts were interrupted though as Alba bumped your shoulder knocking you out of the daydream.

“Having a bit of trouble there.” You teased taking a seat on the arm of the chair. “These are supposed to be for children you know.”

“Shut up.” With one arm still holding onto the instructions the other tugged your waist causing you to slide down the arm of the chair onto her lap. You couldn’t help but press a kiss to the top of her head as she still tried to wrap her mind around the game.

“How about I do the next game?” You announced getting the attention of all the kids. “Count to twenty and I’ll be back.”

Scrambling to go to your backs you left in Alexia’s old room you found the parcel in your overnight bag ready for this exact scenario. Coming empty handed was never an option for you.

“Here it is.” You announced getting everyone’s attention. “Who wants to play pass the parcel?”

Your suggestion was met with a round of cheers as everyone got into a circle to include all the adults on the sofas. Taking a seat on the floor you were ready to start when one of Alexia’s cousins, Ana, sat down on your lap. Your arms instantly wrapped around the young girl as you started the music, each time letting the girl pass the parcel on to Alexia.

“Why did you not sit with me?” Alexia asked Ana dangling her hand over the chair to tickle the girl, pouting to feign her hurt.  

“Want Auntie Y/N.” Even just her calling you Auntie made your heart skip a beat, you couldn’t believe how lucky you were to now call these people your family.

“Yeah Auntie Ale.” You teased sticking your tongue out.

“She’s my favourite too.” Ale admitted to the little girl, faking a whisper. “Don’t tell her than though.”

“Secret.” The little girl whispered, thinking this was a real secret even though you could obviously hear both of them.

“Yeah keep it a secret.”

“What are you two talking about?” You asked gaining the attention of Ana who simply curled back into your lap.

“Nothing.” She answered. “Love you.”

“I love you too.”

Alexia couldn’t help but just look the at the two of you together. Your attention split between a conversation with her uncle and trying to soothe the girl in your lap.

“You’re so whipped.” Alba whispered teasingly into her sister’s ear. “Stop staring.”

“Shut up Alba.”

…..

Your moment didn’t come till after the meal had finished and everyone was still sat around talking. Alexia was curled up on the chair next to you, both of your hands intertwined on your lap as you mixed with everyone. But the box in your bag upstairs could no longer be ignored and now felt like the moment.

“I’m just nipping to the bathroom,” You whispered to Ale before slipping out the room.

Quickly refreshing yourself in the bathroom before retrieving the little box hidden in your overnight bag. You’ve played in front of nearly one hundred thousand people in your career but this is the most nervous you’ve felt before.

You couldn’t stop your hands from shaking as you slowly made your way into the dining room again. Stopping behind Ale’s chair your hands rested on her shoulders as you cleared your throat to gain the attention of the room, all eyes suddenly focused on you.

“Sorry for interrupting all your conversations but I just wanted to say something in front of you all. Firstly I want to thank you for today, you’ve all welcomed me into your family and took me in as one of your own. To Eli, thank you for being an amazing host and for the amazing food.”

“Which you helped with.” She pointed out. “We’ve all loved having you here, plus Ale would have spent the whole day being miserable without you.”

“Whining even more than usual.” Alba teased her sister.

“As you all know I’ve been with Ale for more than four years now and they’ve been the best of my life.” You started, Alexia turning to face you. “We’ve been through more struggles than anyone will know, with injuries and the pressures of being who we are but we’ve always had each other and I know I wouldn’t have come this far without you by my side.”

“What’s all this for?” Alexia asked.

You ignored her question to continue. “You’re my best friend. I love everything about you even when you keep me awake snoring at night or when you burn my toast in the morning. You’re always the first to offer to give me a massage after a match, you always remember my green tea in the morning but more than that you make me feel more loved than I’ve ever felt before.”

The realisation of what was slowly happening was dawning on Alexia as tears streamed down her face.

“I’d love nothing more than to have the rest of my life to continue to show you how much you mean to me and stand by your side to share every moment together.” You said, slowly getting down on one knee, opening the box to reveal the ring you’d chosen. “So Alexia Putellas Segura, will you do me the greatest honour and be my wife?”

“Yes, yes of course I will.” Immediately shooting out of her chair she wasted no time in gathering you in her arms, spinning you around in the air. “I love you so much.” She whispered, planting you back down on the floor to kiss you.

“I love you too. I hope you like the ring.”

“It’s perfect. Everything you choose is perfect.” Taking the simple but elegant diamond ring in your hand you slid it onto her finger like a glove.

It’s only then that you realise you’re not alone in the room, both of your eyes immediately turning to Eli and Alba. Tears uncontrollable streaming down their faces as they gathered you in a group hug.

“I’m so happy for you both.” Eli whispered, kissing both of your heads. “No-one deserves this more than you two.”

“You’re both made for each other.” Alba added, first hugging you as Eli took Alexia in her arms. “That ring as well, wow.”

“You should thank Eli for that as well.” You admitted as you swapped to get your hug from Eli. “I can’t take all the credit for that.”

“You knew?”  Alexia turned to the both of you.

“Y/N came to me a few months ago and asked for my permission which I of course gave her. I didn’t know she as planning on doing it tonight though.”

“It just felt right.” You admitted. “All your family here and we both love Christmas. Of course I’d love to have met your father and ask him but I felt this was only right.”

That again set Alexia off as the tears started again. “I love you.”

“I love you too my fiancée.” Bringing her into your arms the cheers started as you sealed it with another kiss. “Forever.”

“Forever with you.”

[chloe-skywalker]

Really? - Kai Parker

Kai x Fem!reader (Eventually)

Warnings: none

Word count: 1,996

Summary: They call in Y/n to babysit Kai

Authors Note: I used the name Hope as a nickname. Also like shes hundreds of years old. Used Twitter in this because Kai had a twitter in the show. This is REALLY old my writing has improved SO much since I wrote this. I wrote for english class in highschool as a sophomore. The date on the paper that I turned it in on was 5/26/16. This was never typed and honestly I completely forgot about it. But I found the 9 page story in my closest. Hope you all enjoy it. This is probably one of the very first times I every wrote a piece of fanfiction. I never posted it on tumblr, I’m pretty sure. I did rewrite some parts cause like I said my writing has very much improved since this lol.

Masterlist

TVD Masterlist

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

“Ok, I did not come back to Mystic Falls to babysit some sociopath that I don’t even know!” Y/n said standing in the doorway to the livingroom. Y/n had her left hand on her hip with it pushed out to the side, and her right hand flat out pointing towards Alaric and Jo sitting on the couch together. It had been awhile since she had been in the Salvatore boarding house. “This was your idea, wasn’t it?”

“Relax, Hope. It was mine and Stefans idea. We figured you're a Hybrid plus a witch. Also you're not easily persuaded. Your best option.” Damon said, pouring himself some bourbon.

“Ha,ha,ah, NO!” Y/n said with anger filled eyes. “I don’t want to babysit the newest town problem.”

Y/n turned on her heels towards the front door, once she got there when she started to open the door Stefan appeared right in front of her. He closed the door before slinging his arm around her shoulders, walking her back to where everyone else was.

“Please do this Hope, if not for me or Damon do it for Jo, Liv and Luke. Please.” Stefan pleaded.

Considering that Kai was trying to kill his siblings, the Salvatore brothers being allies with them and not Kai, makes it more understandable why they were keeping him in their cellar or as Y/n liked to call it a dungeon.

Even though Y/n didn’t plan on coming back to Mystic Falls from New Orleans to help in their latest crisis, she would. Her father, the original Hybrid, wouldn't like it. He couldn’t bare to lose her, not his hope. That was her nickname and it stuck. Everyone calls her Hope because of it.

“Fine.” Y/n gave in, although a bit annoyed.

Y/n didn’t have anything else to do and hey, maybe this sociopath wouldn’t be that bad. She had never been one to judge without knowing the person. Her father just because his mother was unfaithful to a werewolf was judged for her actions. Y/n found that unfair.

Damon opened his mouth to speak, bringing Y/n out of her thoughts. “Ok its settled then you watch the little weasel.”

Soon enough they all left to go do what they needed to do, so Y/n  headed down to the cellar and sat against the wall. Having been told to stay close to the cellar because Kai was tricky.

Y/n went on her phone and got on twitter, not long after her phone went off with a notification for the social media app. And apparently Kai had heard it.

“You should follow me on twitter, cobrakai1972.” He said from inside the dungeon cell.

Y/n thought about it for a moment and she didn’t see anything wrong with friending him on twitter. “Ok, that was corbakai1972. Right?”

Once she heard that Y/n heard him get up and suddenly his face was behind the bars on the door. Y/n lifted her head to look at him, he looked surprised. “Wait, are you serious?”

“Yeah, why not?” she shrugged.

Kai raised his eyebrows in shock. So he decided to explain who exactly he was. “Well, I assume they told you exactly why you're babysitting me. Right? I’m the new big bad in Mystic Falls. In the prison world I kidded BonBon, multiple times. I assume she’s your friend since you are obviously friends with Damon, Stefan, Alaric, and the rest of them. Probably friends with Jo, Live and Luke as well if you're willing to protect them. They trust you enough to watch me.”

Y/n didn’t miss the way he said his sister's name with disgust, he must really want to kill her like they said. Considering he look’s 22 and Jo looks 44, Y/n took it as in prison worlds you don’t age. Also he killed Bonnie in one so you can’t die either. Damn witches are assholes.

“Well for one thing they told me their side of the story of what happened. Second thing, me and Bonnie are not friends so whatever kill her I don’t care. And yes, they are my friends I guess you could say. Third thing, trust me now that is a kinda long story. They do trust me but that took a very long time, being the daughter of the original Hybrid Klaus Mikaelson whom they trust as far as they can throw. Trust wasn’t an easy thing to earn, Especially since I’m alot like my father. They have me babysitting you because I’m a Hybrid like him as well, and a witch.” Y/n smirked at him which made him smile widely.

“So I guess that means I can’t convince you to let me out?” He asked with a cheeky grin. Y/n shook her head ‘no’ and they both laughed.

Y/n realized she liked his laugh, she didn’t think he laughs often. After a while their laughter died down they started talking about everything and nothing all at the same time. They talked for hours and at some point they had both started leaning against the cellar door. Then the object of ‘pasts’ came up.

“Kai we don’t have to. We don’t have to talk about the past or family if you don’t want to. I get it’s a touchy subject.” Y/n told him sincerely.

Kai nodded even though she couldn’t see him. “You're right we don’t, but I want to know yours and I take it that if I don’t tell you anything then you won’t tell me anything. Am I correct?”

He was right, she wouldn’t tell him if he didn’t share his. “Yes, you're right.”

Kai nodded. “Fine. My family called me an abomination and they physically and mentally abused me with magic and, not because I’m a siphoner. I can’t and couldn’t fight back. Since I couldn’t generate my own magic. My parents didn’t want me to possibly rule the coven, so they kept having kids till another set of twins was born. When twins turn 22 in our coven they merge and the winner takes both powers and becomes the leader of the coven. The other dies. When me and Jo were supose to merge they said no, I went on a rampage. They decided to let us merge but it was all a set up to send me to the prison world. One of my very own, like hell.”

Y/n felt sad for him, his parents turned him into what he was today. They made him into the sociopath, from how they treated him. It wasn’t his fault he was born a siphoner. Called an abomination in his own home growing up by the people who should’ve loved him. It was so wrong in so many ways.

Y/n wanted to lighten the mood a bit. “Wow. That's some history. Am I supposed to top that?”

“There’s more things to me than just that but some things stay secret.” Kai winked, obviously teasing her.

Y/n bit her lip and rolled her eyes at his coolness.

“Okay! Your turn.” He said excitedly through the door.

Y/n laughed before thinking where to start. “Ok, ok lets see, before and after my birth my fathers parents have been trying to kill me. And they're dead now and still try. So my father sent me away for a while. When he brought me back to live with him and our family, his siblings in New Orleans. Its not the only time I've been sent away, my father has a lot of enemies. He sent for me back when he came here and undaggered his siblings. We even have a house here. We caught up and that's when I met everyone. Lots of saving, lots of killing. But I think everything that me and my dad have been through made our bond stronger. There's more to me but you know some things stay secrets.”

Y/n heard him laugh at her copying of his words from before.

“Well I think we are pretty much tied on the who’s worse considering my parents beat me and your dad's enemies and parents keep trying to kill you. I mean at least mine let me live.” Kai let out an amused breath.

“OK well this is getting depressing.” She sighed

“Agreed.” He said

Then suddenly Damon’s name lit up Y/n’s phone with a text.

[ Hey won’t be back for a couple more hours. Please keep watching him.]

Y/n scoffed, fully annoyed she’d already been here for 5 hours.

“What?” Kai asked, having heard her scoff and seen the annoyance on her face.

“Damon’s going to be even longer.” Y/n was officially pissed. Y/n thought for a moment and then a brilliant idea popped into her head. “You know if I have to watch you why does it have to be here?” She smirked michevously up at the breunette.

“What do you have in mind?” He questioned.

“If I have to watch you I’m not going to do it here.” Y/n stated.

“Wasn’t that the point?” Kai questioned.

“So?” She shrugged. “His text didn’t say it had to continue here.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s not what he meant but I won’t stop you.” Kai smirked at her idea, completely ready to be free from his cell.

Y/n didn’t need a key since she was hundreds of years old witch.

 “They're gonna be pissed when they find out.” He told her as he stepped out the doorway.

“They can’t and don’t know how to kill me. And my father plus Aunts and Uncles wouldn’t let them lay a finger on me.” She rolled her eyes.

So the two of them walked upstairs when Kai spoke up. “So you really want to hang out with me?”

“Of course.” she nodded but when she looked over at Kai he seemed relieved. “Did you think I would say no?”

He scratched the back of his head looking to the floor.

“Kai” Y/n looked at him and stepped in front of him reaching up to hold his face in her hands. “After everything we just talked about, and me letting you out, why would I not want to hangout with you?”

Y/n leaned up and kissed him on the cheek. Kai couldn’t believe he might’ve actually found a friend.

“You mentioned your name when we talked. How if they named you Mlachia then they must have expected you to be evil. When I look in your eyes I don’t see evil, I see a boy that doesn’t know what love is.” Y/n looked into his eyes. Kai saw no malice, no hatred. She cared about him.

“You don’t know me. Not really.” He shook his head not believing that she could care about him.

“I don’t. But I’d like to.” She smiled warmly at him. Y/n lifted her shoulders smiling looking into his eyes. “Who knows, maybe you can change. I’m not saying to stop killing, I’m just saying maybe not kill everyone. People might see you differently.”

Kai laughed at the last part, it was probably true. “No one’s gonna ever see me differently. No one will ever see me as redeemed.”

Kai looked down actually feeling sad about that. No one would ever give him a chance. He’d never be forgiven.

“Hey, you want to know why my dad and everyone calls me Hope?” Y/n asked, she was gonna tell him anyway but luckily he nodded so she continued. He didn’t just nod though he also raised an eyebrow and made a look that made Y/n laugh. “He calls me Hope, because I’m his hope. His hope to be better, his hope of redemption. Maybe I can be your hope to.”

Kai smiled nodding along. “Maybe.”

With that they officially left the Salvatore boarding house to go have some freedom and fun.

Taglist: @padawancat97

[max1461]

Let me start a new post, regarding some discourse, so that we can avoid bothering OP and furthermore so that we can properly abstract away from (whatever turn out to be) the irrelevant points of the initial seed of discussion.

A woman flashed her boobs to some strangers in New York. Someone on twitter said this was sexual assault. I and other commenters contended it was no big deal. However, I added:

I do think there's a relevant distinction between simply being nude/topless/whatever in public, which I think should be regarded as perfectly socially acceptable, and flashing someone, which is kind of an inherently somewhat sexual performative act. I don't think that flashing in a context like this should probably be regarded as sexual assault, that seems a bit much. In general I think that people are (for the most part) sexual creatures, and so any free society is going to feature some amount of public display of sexuality, whatever form that takes, and there's nothing really wrong with that. It doesn't seem like any big deal to me that this girl flashed these people. But there definitely exist contexts where I think it's reasonable to consider flashing alone to be sexual assault or sexual harassment, and I don't think that should be elided. And I don't think it should be determined on crude grounds of gender or sex either; it's important to have some thoughtful and conceptually robust sense of when sexual acts, e.g. flashing people, are playful and harmless, and when they are in fact potentially threatening or boundary-violating.

Here the discussion split. In one thread, @sivavakkiyar said:

I agree with the nuance of total determination, but the applicability only makes sense now. There’s very good reason to suppose a man who took off his shirt on camera would not be considered ‘flashing’, even if he was flexing his pecs or whatever: the assumed sexual component, regardless of the intent of the woman involved, has to do with the inherent sexualization of…uh…female…presenting…nipples. We’re on the same page of ‘assault’ being ridiculous in this context, but even if you were to ask this woman ‘when you took off your shirt, you knew it was sexually suggestive, yes?’ and she said ‘yeah’, it wouldn’t really change the fundamental question—-I mean that’s obvious as a part of her joke, but—-the guy with pecs might equally be ‘yeah, I’m hot.’ You know?

And I replied:

Well yeah that's part of my point. There is totally a context in which a guy flexing his pecs at you, in some sufficiently aggressive or unwanted way, could be sexual harassment. But that doesn't mean that all men flexing in public is bad, or even all men flexing at someone in public is bad. The standards one takes up for this, whatever they are, should be gender neutral—which would unambiguously mean that women showing their bare chest in public would get vastly more accepted, not less.

In another thread, @wildgifthorses said:

It seems like this is just an area where it makes sense to have sex-asymmetric norms. Trying to make a workable sex-symmetric norm about this just leads to absurdity no matter what you do.

And added the following in the tags:

Here I would like to make my reply to wildgifthorses.

I think you have implicitly invoked, here, precisely the gender-neutral distinction which is relevant: reasonable knowledge that you are violating someone's boundaries and disregard for those boundaries in spite of the knowledge. Most men can be said to have a reasonable expectation that the average woman will be bothered by him flashing her his junk, and consider it a boundary violation. Most young women can reasonably expect that a crowd of passers-by will not feel violated by her flashing them her boobs. While there are sex- or gender-asymmetric facts about society being invoked in this sort of moral calculation, the underlying principle is fundamentally sex- and gender-symmetric. And why should it not be? I can think of plenty of contexts in which a man might be made very uncomfortable by a woman aggressively showing him her boobs, however common or not that happens to be, and in those scenarios I think it is very reasonable to say the woman is in the wrong.

We get absolutely nowhere good by making needlessly gendered distinctions in our abstract principles, as (in different ways) the last 10 years and the previous 5000 before that should make evident. I think until certain follies heretofore characteristic of human society are well behind us, we should probably err very far in the direction of absolute sex- and gender-insensitivity in our most abstract ethical principles, even if it runs us into trouble sometimes.

[foone]

Please don’t feel obligated to reply because this might be a touchy issue, but i see on one of your posts that you hate Hacker News. I just discovered HN a few months ago and have been enjoying it, but as a fellow trans person i’m curious if they’ve been transphobic or the like (based on the context of your comment) and if i should stay away

OKAY SO here's thing thing: as a reader, HN is... fine. They're not great. They have a history of sexism in what posts get boosted and a history of various shades of transphobia in the comments, but that's not particularly unusual as far as internet forums go. Reddit is much the same, for example.

My problems with HN are related to getting posted there. The way the site works when you're reading it and when you're getting posted there are very different. More explanation under the readmore since this got long. (warning: some talk of transphobia and doxxing)

The site is not avoidable. Back when I was still on twitter, getting posted on HN meant your notifications were useless for a week, because they are scraped by endless bots trying to farm for likes and reblogs, and every single one of them ends up tagging you. And even now when I'm off twitter, getting posted there means you still get informed that you've been posted there, by well-meaning people who know you hate it, or are just innocently commentating on how it's neat to see you on HN. Or hey, in the latest iteration, you find out because your askbox is now full of slurs (and not just the ones you'd expect!). Basically, it is impossible to be submitted to HN and not know about it.

And then it gets worse because it's now a known fact that I don't like being on HN. Meaning every time I AM on HN, it turns into a big debate in the comments about why I don't like HN, why I post the way I do, and people arguing with the explanation of my opinion. I'm not even there, and people are mad at the phantom of me for not doing things in the way they like.

Because how I post is part of what they always get mad at me about. I have severe ADHD: This is a well known fact about me, I post about it a lot. It means that I used to post on twitter a lot, because twitter was (at the time) one of the only sites I could post on at all: The way it makes you chop up your line of thinking into small chunks, each of which is small enough that I can focus on it. I've since managed to handle tumblr-posting, and I occasionally post on mastodon now, but for most of the time that I was posted on HN, I was posting this way, only on twitter, in long threads where I don't think much ahead or do editing/revisions BECAUSE I CAN'T.

And here's the thing about people who prefer more "traditional" geek news sites like HN: A lot of them are there because they hate the bite-size nature of sites like twitter and tiktok. And they are Not Happy with people submitting twitter threads to HN: They hate that kind of formatting of content, and announce that fact, loudly.

And then people in the comments point out that I have ADHD and can't post in the style they'd prefer (long well-edited blog posts), and then it turns into an argument there, often with people happily brining up their opinions on whether ADHD is "real" or things like that. Again, I'm getting argued about without being there to defend myself.

And this is where it gets transphobic, through the indirect route of sexism: Someone says something innocent but vaguely dickish like "well he should just hire someone to rewrite all his twitter posts as blog posts!" (like they think I am doing this as a job and can afford to pay an editor, rather than just some weirdo who rants because that's what they do). They assume I'm a man, because most of the people who get posted on HN (and especially the ones who get upvoted) are. They just assume everyone without an Obviously Female Name and a profile picture that's a photo of a smiling woman is male, and honestly they're probably right most of the time, because that's just how the gender balance on HN ends up working.

And then someone points out I use they/them pronouns, and it just goes to shit. You get people yelling that it's not their job to figure out the pronouns of everyone they're talking about, like it's a perfectly normal thing to just assume everyone is male, you get people arguing about how "he" used to be the gender neutral pronoun, you get people arguing that singular-they is ungrammatical, you get people taking offense at the very idea of they/them pronouns because "you can't force everyone to follow your religion" (as apparently either trans or non-binary is a religion now (well, I am a pope)), and then a bunch of "[post flagged]" and you can only speculate about how bad THOSE posts were, if so much other transphobia is still sitting in the comments, untouched by the supposed moderators who are supposed to delete it.

You get people calling you mentally ill, and then getting in arguments about how they mean YOU SPECIFICALLY for the crime of "wanting to not be posted on HN", and not all trans people. Because apparently the HN rules are fine with you saying "this specific trans person is mentally ill and should be locked up" as long as you don't imply that your statements also apply to trans people in general.

And then you get hate in your contact forms for days because people realize you're not active on the HN comments and need to bring the "fight" to you directly.

And frankly, this whole mess is made worse by the site's userbase treating it as a joke or something easily fixable. Like, aside from making my pronouns "obvious" (I'm not sure how, exactly? it's already in all my profiles) which wouldn't help, they want me to just move to a different site, one where I can easily block incoming links by their referrer? They always point to JWZ's blog as an example of this, but he's hosting his posts on his own site. He fundamentally is doing something very different than I am, and I really shouldn't have to CHANGE WHAT SOCIAL MEDIA PLATFORMS I USE just because they're being a butt.

And treating it like a joke? oy vey! I once posted a rant on tumblr about WHY EXACTLY I don't like getting posted on HN, and guess what happened next? SOMEONE POSTED THAT THREAD ON HN.

They also have a history of getting mad at me for not wanting to be posted on HN, like it's prima-dona behavior or "egotistical". Like I should be just happy that my stuff got posted there, something that has only ever brought negative attention. I think maybe they assume I'm doing this as a job, and every time they link to my stuff, I make a bunch of money? That's not the case. I don't make any money from them. I don't have ads. This isn't my job. (Fun fact: I know at least one person who has their blog set up to show ads only when HN links to their content, and not otherwise)

I really don't know why they think it's egotistical of me to not want to get harassed, dismissed, and spammed by their site and their users. It's almost like they think it's me posting my content on HN myself, which I would never do because it doesn't aid me in any way. If I was making content for them, I would make sure it gets posted there. I'm not, so I don't. I post for the sites I post on. I could blog in a way they'd like and then post it to HN if I wanted to. I don't. I choose to tweet (in the past) or post on tumblr or post on mastodon, because I'm posting for those specific communities.

And the thing about it is that all these points are, to some extent, obvious. And people know them. Maybe not the people posting the most unthinking takes on HN, but others will point them out. So this just contributes to any HN thread on my posts turning into a big argument.

And there's always people going "WELL JUST DON'T READ THE POSTS ABOUT YOU" as if that's a reasonable option. first of all, I can't be ignorant about them, as mentioned before they kick down my door and go HEY FOONE YOU'RE ON HACKERNEWS. But more importantly, I'm trans. Do you know what happens if enough people get mad at you online? They start posting your home address, phone number, and pictures of your face and relatives. I have to stay at least SLIGHTLY aware of how the discussion on me is going, or I'll be completely surprised when someone shows up at my house with a gun. (This isn't hyperbole: I have gotten doxxed before because I made a twitter thread that got the wrong people a little too mad at me)

Anyway I've talked to the admins of the site and they have basically refused to do anything about it. They admit that they can block my posts from showing up on the site, but they don't want to because people enjoy my content. My wishes don't matter.

And anyway the epilogue is that this has mostly worked out by now. I stopped posting on twitter, not because HN was pushing me to a site where I could better control my post's reach, but because Elon destroyed it. I'm posting longer-form content now, not because my ADHD got better, but because years of training myself to write this way has made it so that I can handle writing as if I was on twitter-like sites, without the enforced restrictions of them.

And I have countermeasures against HN now. Offensive and defensive ones. I'm a little less likely to be posting Cool Tech Stuff here on tumblr now (because every time this happens it severely dampens my enthusiasm for the subject), but I'm a lot less worried that something I post will end up on HN now, as I have options. (I don't want to go into them because HN being HN, they might take preemptive counter-countermeasures to try to disarm them).

Anyway, tl;dr: it's okay if you like reading the site. my problems with it are with getting submitted there, not with reading it. As long as you don't submit my content there, that's 100% okay with me.

[miyamiwu]

An Honest Guide to Tumblr for Twitter Refugees (Part 1)

I know there are already tons of guides out there, but my WiFi was down the whole day and I got nothing else to do. Spent the entire morning making gifs, but still no WiFi, and I’m like, fck this let’s make a Tumblr guide.

Now, assuming you’ve already signed up and was able to snatch a fancy url*, here’s what you should do next: Log into Tumblr on desktop. You probably made your account through the app, and that’s cool and all, but for this guide, I’ll be showing some features that are currently only available on desktop Tumblr, so go ahead and get your laptop or PC out. Following this guide will also be easier on desktop.

*url = basically your username/handle on this site. We call them url’s because it what makes your domain name on your blog. More on this later.

Covered in Part 1:

Configuring your Tumblr Settings (filters, community labels, algorithms, etc.)

Customizing your Tumblr (how to avoid being mistaken as a bot**, enabling your Tumblr website, finding a Tumblr theme)

**this wasn’t included when I first made this post but decided to add it coz it’s really important.

Configuring your Tumblr Settings

Filters and Community Labels

Go to tumblr.com/settings/account. Here, you’ll find one of Tumblr’s most important features: filters and community labels. Filters are similar to Twitter’s “mute words” feature, and they come in two types: Tag and Content filters

Unlike Twitter, where tags are part of the post itself, Tumblr has a dedicated section at the bottom of the post to add tags.

Tag filters block out posts that are specifically tagged with #tag, while Content filters block posts containing a certain word within the body of the post itself. Once you have these set, you will never see such posts when using the search feature on Tumblr. It will still show up on your dashboard though, but it will look this and comes with the option to view the post for whenever you’re curious:

As for Community Labels, this should be self-explanatory. Mature content is now allowed on Tumblr, but if you don’t want to see such content, you can always opt-out.

Go wild in using these two features. Tumblr is the only major social media left that still allows you to liberally curate your feed. The peeps here on Tumblr mainly still abide by the “don’t like, don’t interact” rule from the old days. Calling out or cancelling a user for what they’re posting will get you nowhere. That’s just not how it works here. If you don’t like something, just block it.

Turning Off Algorithms

Contrary to popular narrative, Tumblr actually has algorithms. But unlike social media sites, they are contained in a tab of its own (i.e. the “For You” tab in Dashboard) and can be even turned off from showing up from within the feed you manually curated (the “Following” tab under Dashboard).

To turn off the algorithms, go to tumblr.com/settings/dashboard and scroll down to the Preferences section. And if you’re a privacy stickler like me, you can go further by going to tumblr.com/settings/privacy to turn off Improved Search.

Tumblr Labs

Tumblr Labs are experimental features. They’re not required, but if you want to make the most out of Tumblr, you might want to turn on some of them. I like to turn on the different Dashboard tabs so I can keep up with what’s going on in Tumblr.

Customizing your Tumblr

Now here comes the fun stuff and what really sets Tumblr apart from all other major social media sites: Personalization. In Twitter, Instagram, Facebook, etc, all user pages look the same. But in Tumblr, you can customize it as much as you want.

Before I start though, I’d like to throw in some stuff that you have to understand first:

Tumblr’s Two “Profile Pages”

Each Tumblr user technically has two “profile pages.” The first one is found at tumblr.com/username, and is basically not that much different from the profile pages of Twitter/Instagram/Facebook. You can customize its colors, icon, and header, but that’s pretty much it.

Edit: I forgot to include this very important bit when I first posted— How to avoid being mistaken as a bot Do not settle for Tumblr’s default icon and header. Tumblr has a long-standing bot problem. An uncustomized profile will make people think you’re a bot and will block you immediately. And when choosing an icon, you might have to think twice when using a selfie that does not include your face (i.e. an upper body picture starting from the neck/chest). Porn bots often use such pictures to make people think they’re real users. Numbers at the end of a url (like username123) are often indications of a bot account, so you might want to avoid that too.

Moving on… The second profile page is where the magic happens, and its found at username.tumblr.com. However, it’s not turned on by default.

Remember what I said earlier about Tumblr usernames being generally called as url’s? That’s because of our “second profile page” here (I hate calling it second though because it’s what came first, but since it’s not a default option now, “second” it is). Tumblr is a blogging platform. Like WordPress and Blogger, but a fun version of it. Your username.tumblr.com page is basically your own custom website.

Enabling your Tumblr Website

From hereon, I’m gonna refer to the “second profile page” as just site because, well, that’s what it really is.

To enable your custom site, go to tumblr.com/settings/blog/username. Toggle on the custom theme option. [If you’re a professional, you can even use a custom domain if you want your site url to look like your-site.com instead of your-site.tumblr.com.]

In the past, the step above would’ve been enough to enable your site, but since Tumblr started implementing changes that sites using the default theme would just redirect to the first profile page (tumblr.com/username), we now have to do some extra steps to make sure that folks visiting at your-site.tumblr.com will really see your website instead of Tumblr’s default profile.

For that, we need to edit our site’s theme.

What are Tumblr themes?

It's basically the design and layout of your site. It can be as crazy or as professional as you want. Here's Taylor Swift's Midnights theme, for example.

Where to Find a Tumblr Theme

Tumblr’s Official Theme Garden (free and paid)

Tumblr’s Official Theme Garden, but filtered to show only the free themes

@theme-hunter

@codingcabin

It’s so hard to filter for the right theme in the Theme Garden though, so I suggest looking for themes in theme-hunter instead.

Tip in Choosing a Theme: Find one that supports NPF (Neue Post Format). Although Tumblr is still advocating its different posts types (text, image, audio, video, etc.), they’ve actually been rolling out changes to their editor where only a single post type is used (text) and you just add media to it. This is what NPF is about. On desktop, you can turn off the beta editor and thereby turn off NPF. However, on mobile web and on the app, posts can only be made in NPF. So if you intend to post on mobile, you have to find a theme that supports it. Otherwise, your content may look weird on your site.

I absolutely recommend themes by @seyche and @fukuo. The one I’m currently using on my site is the Lilac theme by Seyche.

For a more comprehensive guide on customizing your Tumblr, check out Tumblr’s official guide for it.

And that ends part 1 of this Tumblr guide… Though I called this part 1, I actually don’t know if there’ll be a part 2 lol. I’m lazy, and writing this took some time. If my wifi continues to be down though and I still have some data left, I might just write a part 2, covering posting and tumblr culture.

Okay, I'm working on Part 2 now, and will soon edit this post to link to it. But for now, you might want to check out Part 0: What the heck is Tumblr and is it right for me?

Edit: Part 2 is done, and it covers stuff you need to know about posting! You can read it here.

Update: Part 3 (sort of) is up:

A Guide to Tagging on Tumblr: Types of Tags

[wittlesissyb4by]

The White Rabbit - Chapter 1: Persephone

Finding a needle in a haystack. A diamond in the rough. A four-leaf clover. A unicorn. Waldo.

Whatever idiom or cliche you’d like to use, none of them can accurately portray how difficult it is to find a good, competent online dominatrix.

Let me rephrase.

It is damn near impossible to find an online domme that doesn’t want to drain you of every cent in your bank account, and if you do? It’s a bot…that also wants to drain you of every cent in your bank account.

That didn’t stop me from trying, though. 

I traipsed every site I could think of. Fetlife, Reddit, Twitter, 4chan. Begging, pleading for someone to “use this sissy in any way you see fit.” I commented “wish this was me” under every single Tumblr post about sissies getting humiliated in hopes that it would somehow yield a strong, dominant, willing woman to my inbox. I even put an ad on Craigslist. 

In all my attempts, the only thing I got was creepy messages from dudes, and bots. LOTS of bots.

The only thing I’d had even moderate success on was Kik. I wouldn’t even call it success, really. More like a handful of messages every now and then from girls interested in seeing me in panties. My cock would be so hard, the g-string I was wearing looked more like a slingshot. But things rarely took off from there. 

They either wanted too little from me, outrighted ghosted me, or wanted too much from me.

I know, I sound hypocritical. What do I mean, ‘too much’? Right? Turns out, I’m not willing to spoon feed myself my own shit for someone else’s amusement. Everyone has their limits.

But then, just when I’d abandoned all hope, along came Persephone.

“Hello,” her first message said, what everyone said when they first messaged. Could anything be more boring and uninspiring to a conversation?

But she wasn’t done.

“I found your *adorable* blog on Tumblr and just had to message you.”

Okay, so it’s a bot. Or a findom. One of the two. But usually phishers will have a stereotypical profile picture of some bimbo or a MILF that they ripped from the internet. Persephone’s, however, was a hand drawn image of, well, Persephone. Or at least what I thought was Persephone, I hadn’t really brushed up on my Greek Mythology. Or was it Norse Mythology? Whatever it was, the picture was of a bronze-skinned woman with leaves and flowers going through her auburn hair. She was clutching skulls in her left hand, and eating what looked like a pomegranate in the other. 

“Just tell me how much your tribute is.” I shot back coldly.

It took several seconds for her to reply. Usually bots had an automated response that would give their list of demands (in poorly written english) as well as a price tag. 

“Tribute? What’s a tribute?” she eventually said. “I just want to see you in panties.”

I was skeptical, but let’s be honest, any submissive sissy would already be intrigued by the prospect at this point.

I quickly found my lacy pair of pink ones, my favorite.

“Cute!” she replied after I sent her a picture of the panties just beneath my shirt. “But now take the rest of your clothes off so that you’re only wearing those.”

Again, I still had my reservations, but that didn’t stop me. I positioned my phone on the dresser. Trying to get just the right angle and distance to show off my body, without showing my face. I definitely didn’t trust whatever this was enough to put even a modicum of my identity out there. 

I wasn’t in great shape by any means, but I wasn’t overweight either. ‘Flabby’ would probably describe it best.  It occurred to me just then that I should start going to the gym. It took me several attempts to get a shot I was happy with. I quickly uploaded it to the chat and hit send. A part of me was worried that if I didn’t go fast enough, I would end up losing her. 

“You’re such a pretty sissy!” She replied shortly after. It was oddly comforting. I felt validated. “Do you have anything in black?

This was really happening, not only was someone showing interest in me, but they haven’t even asked for money yet. 

I got out my black g-string. In my angst to get it on I pulled up a little too far and flossed my crack a bit. It singed from the friction, but I ignored it. Tucking my erection into the waistband so it was held upwards. 

“Hahaha! That one makes you look super slutty! And look how happy your clitty is! What other colors do you have?”

I spent the next half an hour going through the various pairs of panties I’d accrued over the years, modeling each and every one of them for her. Persephone was just the right amount of encouraging, dominating, and wicked. 

“Your tushy looks great in that one.”

“I bet I could make your cheeks that same shade of red.”

“Wiggle that butt and tell me you’re a sissy slut!”

My body was shaking. No, more like shivering. It had to be because I was naked and cold. Or was it? There was an icy chill flowing through my veins. A pressing weight from the intensity of the thrill. Like when you ride a roller coaster. You know you’re probably safe, but that doesn’t stop you from getting paranoid, panicky, and excited all at the same time. I could feel my heart thumping through my chest. 

“Are you ready to wet your panties?” She eventually asked. 

There it was. For some reason things always had to escalate into toilet stuff. I know beggars can’t be choosers when it comes to getting dominated, but I really wish I wasn’t so picky. 

“I’d rather not piss myself 😔” I told her. 

I hoped she’d understand, I hoped she’d be lenient, I hoped I didn’t scare her away. 

It took a long time for her to respond, or maybe it just felt like it did. But eventually my phone pinged. 

“Not piss yourself, silly. I was asking if you wanted to wet them with cummies. Even though it looks like you’re already halfway there with your pre-leakies 😏”

My face flushed in embarrassment even though she wasn’t even there. It was just words, but it still had an effect on me. How could someone without a face and a voice still make me feel so small? It was intoxicating. 

“Touch your itty bitty clitty for me, sissy.”

She was so poignant, so forward without sounding demanding, like I was comforted but under her thumb all at the same time. 

I reached into my panties. I’d be lying if I said it was the first time since we started chatting. My cock had been screaming to be touched since the first or second message. I obliged it several times while being careful not to go too far. I didn’t want this scene to end. But now I had permission. 

I reached into my panties and wrapped my hand around my cock. It wasn’t the biggest, maybe 4  and a half inches, 5 on a good day. Right now it felt like I was pushing 6. I had to stop because I was getting too excited. I sent her the video, doing my best not to touch myself again and cum too soon.

“I’m sorry…” she said after I sent her a 30 second video of me slowly stroking. I was confused, until she said “is that how someone in panties is supposed to be touching themselves??”

Ok. I was still confused. 

“How should I do it, Miss?”

“Call me Goddess.” She replied. “And you should do it like most girls do when they play with themselves: one finger, on the sensitive part of your clitty. Do NOT stroke.”

I flushed again. This was so humiliating, but I was achingly erect. I propped my clit—err—cock up into my waistband again. It was enough for the head to stick up just above it. I dipped my finger into my mouth and wet it with saliva to lubricate it. Not that I needed to. As soon as I touched the frenulum at the bottom part of my penis, I noticed it was covered with precum. 

I aimed my phone at myself, seeing how pathetic I looked on the screen as I started swirling my finger back and forth along the tiny, sensitive line. 

I released a breath I didn’t know I was holding. I heard a pitiful, high-pitched sigh escape my lips. It wasn’t a lot of stimulation, but apparently I didn’t need much. I felt the urge to cum again.

I had to stop myself. I didn’t want to go yet. I wanted to stay in this headspace forever. I scanned through the video real fast to make sure I didn’t accidentally show my face, then hit send. 

“God you’re so fucking pathetic! Lol. Such a horny sissy! I can hear you making little girly moans! But I want them to be louder. I want you moaning like a fucking whore while you beg me to let you cum in your sissy panties!”

I didn’t have to embellish much, just had to stop suppressing the sounds I wanted to make, and bring them up an octave so they were a higher pitch. 

“You’re doing so good, baby girl!” She teased after I sent her another 30 seconds of me moaning and whimpering. Normally I would be a bit put off by being called a baby, but nothing could stop me now. 

“Please let me cum, Goddess! Please!” I squeaked. I had two fingers rubbing my clitty as I anxiously awaited her reply. 

“You can cum. But I want you repeating ‘I'm a sissy making stickies in my panties’ the whole time. And I want to see your face while you do it.”

I gulped. My cock retreated a bit at that last sentence. I hardly knew this girl. I couldn’t even be sure she was a girl. And what would she do with a video like that? What I'm doing is far from illegal, but it’s still not something I would like being spread around. 

“Do I have to show my face?” I asked. 

“Yes.” She replied, “but only if you’re comfortable… and only if you want to cum 😉”

‘Only if you’re comfortable.’ For some reason, that made me feel better, like she had my best interest at heart, but still maintained a firm grip on my psyche. 

I did want to cum. Probably more than ever. But I didn’t want to put my face out there. I never had before, was this the time to start?

Yes. The horny devil on my shoulder told me instantly. I didn’t even hear the angel, no idea where that guy was right now. 

I sighed as I opened my camera again. Pulling my arm back a little further than normal so as to allow my face to join the rest of my splayed out body on the floor. My cheeks were a bright red, whether from embarrassment or being more horny than I've probably ever been in my life, I couldn’t be sure. 

“I’m a sissy making stickies in my panties” I said as I fingered my clitty. It was weird saying something out loud, basically to yourself, in an empty apartment. 

“I’m a sissy making stickies in my panties!” I had to close my eyes because I didn’t want to see how pathetic I looked on the screen. Unfortunately, there was no way for me to stop myself from hearing it. 

“I’m a s-sissy,” my legs were shaking, I could feel the pressure building like a volcano about to erupt, “m-making st-stickies in my…my…PANTIES!!”

I practically shouted the last word as my clit erupted into the soft, silky material. It just kept going. Spurt after hot, sticky spurt of jizz into my red panties. They were now a darker shade of crimson as the wetness spread through them. It was probably one of the biggest loads I’ve ever made, but the fabric itself was terrible at absorbing any excess. It was all sloshy and gushy inside, and the creamy load made its way all the way down the thin line to my taint and crack. 

My libido evaporated and was replaced by a bit of shame. But even with my post-nut clarity, I was blinded by the power Persephone held over me. I wanted to impress her. I wanted to please her. 

“Thank you for letting me make cummies in my panties, Goddess” I said before hitting stop on the video. 

If there was ever a time to go back on my word about showing my face, it would be now. I didn’t have to send it. I could just move right on and she would never be the wiser. She would probably forget about me and move on to some other sissy to play with. 

But that realization hit with a pang of jealousy. I wanted to be the one she played with. I wanted to be the one she called a slut and even a ‘baby girl’. 

Women like this didn’t come around often, or like…ever.  I didn’t want to lose my chance with her. 

The angel on my shoulder finally appeared. “You just met her an hour ago.” it said, “you actually haven’t even met her yet. Who knows what she could do? Who knows if she’s even a ‘she’?”

Valid points, all of them. But even without my horniness intact, the devil was winning.

“What’s the worst that could happen?” he said. “Opportunities like this don’t come often. If you let her get away, you’ll be kicking yourself.”

After several seconds of deliberation, I made my decision:

I hit send.

I mean, what’s the worst that could happen?

It was the waiting game that was torture. The message indicated that it had been read. She was probably watching it now. But after several minutes, the length of the video had passed. If she was watching it, she had to have finished by now. What was she doing?

Then the screen changed. Persephone is typing…

“Good job, sissy slut! You sure made quite the mess! Now it’s time for me to upload it everywhere and send it to all your friends!”

Fuck! 

God damn it! 

Oh god oh god oh god…

How could I be so stupid??

I knew. I knew she would do this! I should have fucking listened to myself. That little inkling of doubt and reason. The one you realize was there only after you fuck something up. 

What will my friends think when they see me gushing into panties? What will my Mom think??

My phone pinged again.

“Just kidding!” it read, “Oh how I WISH I could have seen your face!! 😂” 

The gravity was turned off in the building. All the crushing weight had been lifted. I didn’t even know what to say, I was just happy I could breathe again.

“You got me…haha 😅” 

“I wouldn’t be surprised if I made you do something *else* in your panties too 😉” 

I didn’t exactly know what she meant by that. But I didn’t question it. I was just happy to have her still talking to me. 

“Well I’m off to bed, sissy. And in case you haven’t guessed: You will be sleeping in your gushy panties all night. Sweet dreams!”

To be continued…

I just released Chapter 5 of this story over on Subscribestar. Things are starting to pick up if you'd like to continue reading!

[lemonluvgirl]

Ok, so this idea just would not leave me alone. I told my husband about this idea for a three-chapter Everlark modern high school AU and he really liked it and told me I should write it. So, here is the first part.

August

Junior year

Panem HS

Another year, another seat in the back of the class next to the window. Another bland teacher introduction followed by the passing out of the class syllabus. Then come the dreaded icebreakers. 

Never mind that we live in a town of less than 3,000, or that our graduating class will have less than 200 members if every one of us manages to make it through the next two years of high school. And forget the fact that we’ve all been in the same grade together since kindergarten. Every single year our teachers insist on forcing us to ‘get to know each other’. 

If I don’t already know the favorite season and holiday of the person sitting next to me by now I probably never will. (It’s Delly Cartwright, and hers are summer and Christmas respectively) 

But everything about this class, about this day, hell, probably about this entire year will be completely predictable. The brains, like BT Latier will work their asses off to get top grades, and the sportos like Cato Anderson will try to copy their homework and cheat off them during tests. Girls like Galinda ‘Glimmer’ Franklin and Clove Moretti will ignore the no cell phones rule and regularly update their Twitter and Instagram during the lecture and will only get called out about 40% of the time. 

The rest of us will just muddle through, hopefully paying enough attention to pass the exams and avoid remedial tutoring in the library with Ms. Trinket who, contrary to first impressions, is not a vapid airhead who wears too much makeup and hairspray but in reality, is a total hard ass and does everything in her power to make sure the kids she tutors pass their classes. My life is all about reducing stress and hassle, so I’ll be avoiding her at all costs this year. Besides it’s much easier to just pass the first time around than have to deal with the fallout from failing. 

So I inwardly roll my eyes at the whole charade of introductions and do my best to try and look only mildly bored. 

When it gets to my turn I don’t bother standing up. 

“My name is Katniss Everdeen. I’m 17. I’m stubborn and good with a bow and that’s pretty much it.” I say dryly, and it gets a few chuckles. 

After that, the spotlight of my peer’s attention moves on and no one spares me a second glance. Which is exactly how I prefer it. Everyone here already knows I’m not very interesting. I hate the whole school spirit scene, and I’m not in any clubs or on any committees. The last time I was voluntarily a part of something, was five years ago. I quit track in middle school so I could spend more time hunting in the woods to supplement the money from my father’s income that we lost after his death. I’ve gotten so good at it that Mr. Abernathy, the owner of the local sporting goods store, took me on as a seasonal hire last summer. I parlayed that summer gig into a year-round job that helps keep food on my family’s table, and shoes on my little sister’s feet. 

My life is a series of responsibilities and expectations that my classmates could never relate to. And their lives are a carefree existence of parties, dances, and soap-opera drama that I have no interest in. 

They live in their little bubbles and I live in the real world and we will go on co-existing in this way until graduation breaks the cycle. 

I zone out of the rest of the class. We won’t do much work today if at all, so I allow myself the small indulgence of looking out the window and planning for this year’s hunting season which is set to open up for archery on the first of October. 

That leaves me only a few weeks to finish getting the permits and stock up on the needed supplies. 

This year will be harder than the years before since I’ll be hunting alone. My best friend and hunting partner, Gale Hawthorne, graduated and left for Maryland this past summer. He’ll be in Annapolis, training to become an officer and a marine while I’ll be up to my elbows in wild turkey and white-tail deer. 

Even though I’m happy for him, I can’t help but feel saddened by his absence. Now there will be no one to watch my back in the woods. No one to help me carry a hundred or more pound buck back if I manage to bring one down like I did two years ago. 

The only thing I can think of is maybe asking my boss, Haymitch if I can borrow his truck and if I can rig up a travois then—

The bell rings and I’m snapped out of my thoughts by the shuffle of feet and the whoops of excitement and laughter that my classmates let out at the sound of the last period ending. 

I pick up my old hunter-green JanSport, that’s due for another patch of duck tape soon, sling it over one shoulder and make my way to the door. 

My exit is delayed by the clump of jocks jostling each other playfully around the doorframe. I breathe out an annoyed huff as I wait for them to pass. 

One of them, one of the kinder ones, turns around and shoots me an apologetic look, bright, clear blue eyes shine back at me for a moment before his friends call his attention and pull him roughly behind them. A piece of folded-up paper falls out of the side pocket of his backpack in the midst of this and lands at my feet. 

I swoop down to pick it up and my mouth opens to call out his name but the words died on my lips before they can slip off my tongue. 

I catch sight of something completely unexpected when I automatically glance down at the paper in my hand. It's the letters K.E. inscribed neatly on the corner that spark my curiosity and prompt my hand to open up the folded paper to see what’s inside. 

I lose my ability to speak, to even think for a moment because it’s me. 

I’m staring down at a picture of my own face, straight dark hair pulled back into an unseen braid that hangs down my back, while a few stray pieces fall around my eyes, framing an oval-shaped face, dark brows perch surreptitiously over slanted grey eyes and a straight nose above a generous mouth that’s for once not tilted down into a frown, but is instead caught in a relaxed position, not quite smiling but something like the ghost of it, is settled on my lips. And my head is tilted to the side, curiously. 

I have no idea when he caught me making this expression. Maybe when I was looking out the window? When did he draw this? Why did he draw this? Is this some sort of practice for art class? I think he takes Ms. Portia’s intermediate art class at the same time I take shop. I’ve seen him going into that wing of the school because it’s right across from the shop building. Maybe he’s just practicing his life study skills. Maybe he’s taking turns drawing everyone in our history class. 

I move forward and stick my head out the door, calling out, “Peeta,” but the hallway is empty. 

I look back down at the drawing in my hand and fold it back up carefully, before slipping it into the most secure pocket of my backpack, thinking I’ll give it back to him tomorrow.

[matthewkniesys]

best - mat barzal

summary: you treated him like shit but he still stuck around. you fucked it up and mat deserves so much better than you. you never were the best to him.

a/n: so this is set during mat's second year in the nhl. it's a fic based on the song best by gracie abrams and it's the first fic for my good riddance fic series. i strongly recommend listening to the song before or during reading but you don't have to. i'm very happy with how this turned out and i hope yall like it 🫶

pairing: mat barzal x gn!reader

warnings: swearing and very angsty

good riddance fic series

It was exactly like you to go and fuck it all up. To get bored and not want to try anymore. To just stop putting in the effort. You stopped caring enough to put any work into your relationship with Mat Barzal and because of that you lost the best person in my life.

You and Mat started dating in your senior year of highschool and it was fun. But that’s all it was to you. You never wanted more. You couldn’t see your relationship going past highschool, but Mat did. 

You both graduated and he was moving away from Seattle, where he had been playing for the Thunderbirds, to New York. He made the big leagues and you were really  proud of him. But then he asked you to come with him. You didn’t want to break his heart right before all his dreams were coming true and you just didn’t know how to tell someone who was fucking asking you to move into a whole other city with them no. So you said yes.

You and Mat made it 2 years in New York before everything imploded. 

And that’s not to say that during those 2 years you both were always happy. Actually it was kinda far from it. You were constantly grating on each other's nerves and you began to resent him. Afterall he was the only reason you were in this dumb city you didn’t want to be in anyways. But Mat, the amazing person he is, was always trying to fix everything. To make sure you were happy. That’s all he ever wanted for you.

You stayed because it was comfortable and that’s probably why Mat stayed too.You didn’t have to try. Mat loved you so much that he ignored the fact you were hurting him so much. And by the end you knew you were hurting him too. You just didn’t know what to do about it.

The night that everything went up in flames had been in the making for awhile. For the past 2 weeks before that you and Mat had constantly been at each other's throats. Making passive aggressive remarks, not speaking much but still just trying not to push it too far that it teeters over the edge.

That night Mat walks into the house from a late game. He’s already agitated because the game went horribly. Well at least according to twitter. You didn’t actually watch the game cause you couldn’t care less.

“Hey y/n. Did you watch the game?”

You look up and, “Nope, I don’t really care,” Is all you respond with, going back to reading the book on your lap. After a few seconds you realize Mat is still standing in the same spot just looking at you. He looks…incredulos.

“Are you kidding? You don’t care? I care and that should be enough to make you care. I’m your fucking boyfriend, y/n. All I ever try and do is make you happy but you never fucking try at all. I’m constantly there for you. I’m the best to you. You treat me like shit but the second you need me I'm there. You shut yourself off from people and the world and I still try to stay. I want to be a part of your life so bad. I want to be more to you than just some guy to you, because to me you are everything. Or you were. I don’t know anymore. ”

You sit there baffled, not knowing what to say. You sit in silence cause you aren’t ready to admit that you know he’s right. You’ve never treated Mat the way he deserves. He’s always loved you in this all consuming way and it was never more than a strong liking for you. You’ve grown to resent him for something that isn’t his fault, it’s yours. It’s not right to keep fucking with him, to keep playing with his feelings. You need to be a grown adult and leave something that isn’t right. If you stay you’ll keep hurting him, and in turn hurting yourself.

Taking a deep breath, you draw your gaze Mat. The amazing person who has never done anything but give you unconditional love, while you hurt him over and over again. 

“Mat, we both know what needs to happen now.”

That night no other words were exchanged between you two. You started packing up and Mat went to stay at a teammates house. It was always gonna end like this. You knew it but still stuck around. You knew you would never say yes and marry him but you never left. You let him hope and you fucked with his feelings. Even you can’t make sense of why you did that.

You fell into a deep sleep that night. Your body was worn through and even though there were a hundred different thoughts spinning in your head you still couldn’t stop the exhaustion from seeping in.

You woke up the next morning disoriented. Last night your whole world had shifted on its axis. You’re sad that what was between you and Mat was over but you had never truly loved him so it didn’t hurt nearly as much as you know it hurt Mat. Whoever Mat chooses in the end is going to be really lucky. It just won’t be you. It wasn’t right.

You grab your phone from your night stand and check your notifications. One makes you pause. Mat unfollowed you on instagram last night. You’re in shock for a minute. It hurt. It made everything feel final and you guessed it was. Mat was ready to be rid of you and that was fair. He needed to move on in his life. Find his forever people, but it didn’t mean him unfollowing you hurt any less.

Everything came crashing down after that. It really hit you. Mat wasn’t gonna be a part of your life anymore. For the last 2 years you had been so caught up in your resentment towards Mat, you had never once thought about his. At some point he had probably started to hate you for how you treated him and that was completely valid. He was the worst of your crimes. You had never treated anyone the way you’ve treated him the last couple of years.

You open your messages glad to see that Mat hasn’t yet blocked your number. You text him a simple I’m sorry. You aren’t trying to get back with him. You don’t love him and that’s just a fact that will never change. You just want him to know that you genuinely feel terrible about what you did. You would tell him in person but you don’t think he wants to see you. You respect that. If he had just spent 2 years leading you on, you never would want to see him again.

You shower and get ready for the day, feeling numb. It’s funny, cause even though you didn’t love him you’re hurting. You feel guilty and you just lost someone who regardless of how you feel about, you cared for. That much was true. You did care for Mat. Maybe more than he would ever know.

It’s been 20 minutes and when you check back on your phone, you see that Mat’s read your text. He didn’t respond but you never thought he would. You send him another text saying you’ll be moved out in a day. He just replies okay. 

You feel a little lonely without Mat around the next few days. You move out of his apartment without seeing him and you’re temporarily crashing at a friends. There’s a little hole in your chest that used to be filled up by Mat. You might not have loved him but his companionship was nice.

You haven’t thought about much the last few days, other than how you treated your ex-boyfriend the last few years.You mostly just feel a lot of regret. He was so good to you and you just weren’t. You hurt him beyond measure and you’ll never forgive yourself for that. It was never your intention. You’ll be okay but it might take awhile. You aren’t struggling to get over Mat. You’re struggling to get over what you did to him. You never were the best to him and that is what hurts you the most.

thanks for reading 🫶

taglist: @woodruff-edwards @nicohischierz @makarhughes @cobrakaisb @huggy-hischier94 @boldysswld@cole-mcward48@kashee-h@kjohnson-91 @jackhues

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[soleminisanction]

There are very few ""headcanons"" out there that get a bigger side-eye from me than people who try to make Stephanie Brown into a Black girl.

Firstly because that is not a headcanon. That's just a whole-ass retcon created out of thin air. A headcanon would be saying she's a natural redhead like how Morgan Kohan played her on Batwoman, or that she's mixed-race because of the curly way some artist draw her hair. There's definitely flexibility in race interpretations for comics but looking at the blue-eyed blonde-hair white girl and declaring her "actually Black" is not one of them.

Secondly, because I have seen (and sometimes gotten) a lot of harassment from Steph fans aimed specifically at Tim's actual, canon Black love interests and teammates. I still seethe at the memory of this one CBR interview I read back when YJ2019 was running, where Brian Michael Bendis and David F. Walker were clearly there to talk up Naomi and Teen Lantern, and in the middle of their heart-felt conversation about the importance of representation for young Black girls, the interviewer butted in to interject, "But you know who I want to see more of?? Stephanie!!!" This going on while Steph fans on Twitter were going on racist tirades because the book dared to highlight the history of Teen Lantern, a character who was actually advertised to be a part of the book and a new member of the team, instead of giving them more of their white-blonde fav who had never been affiliated with YJ and was never part of the advertising.

Thirdly, she was created and so often written by Chuck Dixon, a blatant racist, and as a result there are so many little scenes of her that have uncomfortable racial elements to them. Like the one where he created a pair of Black girls just so Stephanie could call them "raging morons" to their faces and then later talk about how stupid and immature they are compared to her. (Which I am still convinced was Dixon directly criticizing the much better teen pregnancy subplot from Icon & Rocket). Or the borderline-blackface white savior ""demon"" where she wears a dead gnu and maybe accidentally calls herself a bitch in Swahili. (Disclaimer: I do not speak Swahili, and thus do not know how a sentence structure that should read "I am thorn" turns into "I'm a bitch" or "I'm crazy," but I checked that translation with three different robo-translators and got the same results so, shrug.)

And finally -- god, Steph is just, such a walking avatar of white women's privilege. Her entire thing is demanding that she get her way, never letting anyone tell her no, and still being treated by the narrative as a pure-hearted ""beacon of hope"" that everybody needs to protect and nurture at all times.

The inciting incident of War Games can be boiled down to, "A white girl got told no, and made it everybody else's problem." The first attempted Black member of the Batfamly fucking died during that event and got almost entirely forgotten because people only went to bat for the white girl who caused the whole mess and the white woman who got character assassinated to kill her off.

If Stephanie were Black, she wouldn't exist anymore. Fuck, if she were a brunette or just as butch as Carrie Kelly, she probably wouldn't exist anymore. She certainly wouldn't be Batgirl, I can't imagine Dan Didio replacing Cass with another woman of color.

And it's not even just her? Her father is also a very white character. It is incredibly easy to summarize Arthur Brown as a mediocre white man lashing out at the world for not handing him the success he felt entitled to. Take that petulant entitlement away from him and you lose his entire character.

I'm ranting about it on my own blog instead of picking a fight because everybody's entitled to their own fandom experience and blah blah, but this is just. Yeah. Ugh.