#just starting to get out of this art block and oh my god i feel really good about it lol

[corpsoir]

super quick scribbles i threw colours on of them dressing up as their stands or something like that

amaro is @hottopicabbacchio's 💞

[arolesbianism]

Sigh. It begins (being forced to see the worst aro hcs I've ever seen in my life because ppl have a talent for finding the absolute worst characters to be their token aro hc)

[thepowerofswayze]

demonstration

originally on ao3

based on this post by @fantasylandloser

pairing: art donaldson (challengers, 2024) / afab reader [gender not specified]

word count: 1.9K

warnings & info: 18+, afab reader, college era art AHHH, friends to lovers, first time together, mostly smut, oral sex (reader receiving), art is a munch obviously, reader wears a bra and skirt

summary: Catching Art up on your adventures gets hard when he doesn't get your explanations, or your hand puppet examples. Looks like you just have to show him exactly what went down. Based on this post that i could not stop thinking about. :))

☆

“Oh my god, fuck you!”

Art chuckled from where he stood, watching as you tossed the t-shirt he’d balled up and chucked at you back in his direction. It fell harmlessly to the floor a foot from him, and you glared at him as he snickered, picking it up and putting it away.

You were visiting Art, your close friend from high school, at Stanford. At that moment, you happened to be explaining how an interaction at a party at your university had gone a couple weeks before. Art never really liked listening to you talk about guys- hence, the shirt thrown directly at your face when you’d started describing this particular frat boy to him in detail- but he’d given up complaining a while ago. It was either that or be honest about why he hated it so much, and that was never going to happen. So, he tidied up his room as you explained the lead up, the flirting, the stumbling up the stairs. He fell back parallel to you on the bed as you got to the “good part”, his head by your legs and an arm over his eyes, like he could block out the imagery.

“Anyway, I didn’t think it was a big deal at first, like when we were flirting, but then I was on him, kinda like-” You took a moment to sit up straight, grinning as art groaned and propped himself up on his elbows to see you better. He watched you attempt to mimic the position with your hands, your left hand being the guy you were talking about, your right being you.

To Art, it just looked like you were mashing your hands together. He looked up from your hands to see you raising your eyebrows at him, as if to ask if he was following. “Huh?” He said.

With an exasperated sigh and without another thought, you pushed yourself up on your knees and waddled over to him, swinging a leg over his body and hovering just over his torso. For a moment, Art just watched, bewildered, as you steadied yourself with your hands on either side of his head. He let himself fall back from his elbows, hands sliding up your hips and settling at your waist, catching momentarily on the fabric of your skirt. His fingers peeked just under the hem of your shirt. Your skin tingled where he touched you.

“... Like this,” you said finally, blinking at him for a moment. “Well, uh.” You moved your hands to his chest instead, careful not to push too hard (though with the muscle he’d acquired since he’d started playing tennis for Stanford, you were sure it bothered him much less than you thought). “More like this, I guess.”

Art nodded, quickly licking his lips before asking, “Then?”

You tried not to look at his mouth. “What?”

“Then what did you do?”

It finally hit you then: what the fuck were you doing, climbing all over your best friend to ‘show him’ how you and some guy had been fooling around a couple weeks ago? That would just mean fooling around with him, obviously. That wasn’t really the plan.

But, it was too late for your common sense to kick in now. There you were, your hips hovering over his, not quite touching yet. You watched his eyes dart down to your lips, then drag slowly back up to meet your gaze. You couldn’t wait here and think about what you’d gotten yourself into and how this would change your friendship forever, though you got the feeling he’d let you take as long as you wanted.

Then what did you do?

You steeled yourself, biting your lip and watching his lips part slightly as he tracked the action with his eyes. Then you took that moment to fully sit on his lap.

You could feel his chest expand beneath your hands with his sharp inhale, his eyes snapping down to your hips, then back up to your face.

“This,” you murmured. You’d intended for it to come out cocky, maybe even a little seductive, but you could hear the breathlessness in your own voice. You were trying your best to ignore the growing pressure where your hips met his, though really, it was hopeless. 

Art’s ears were burning a bright shade of pink. The urge to gently nip at them crossed your mind, just for a moment. He cleared his throat. “Then?” His voice was almost a whisper, chest rising and falling unevenly with his nervous breathing. The way he was looking at you, like he wasn’t sure you were real…

Fuck.

You leaned forward, trying not to let your breath stutter at the friction caused by the movement, until your lips hovered just over his. Then you kissed him.

You pressed your lips together gently, lingering for a moment before pulling back by centimeters. His lips chased yours, his grip on your waist tightening ever so slightly, and you were right back on him, lips falling open against each other. A soft sound escaped him as your hips shifted against his, along with a contented sigh from you. You repeated the motion, reveling in the low groan he let out, followed by your name murmured into your mouth.

Art’s lips were soft. And he’d shaved recently, you thought, hands cupping his face. The smooth skin of his cheeks was a stark contrast to the calloused hands he was now raking over your thighs, your skirt pushed up around your hips. You broke away from his lips, kissing down his neck instead, listening to the noises he made whenever you left a mark, whenever you ground against him just right. “Shit,” he gasped. “You’re- You’re sure?”

“Yeah.” You left another kiss just below his ear, before murmuring, “What is it?”

You could feel him all but shudder beneath you. “Fuck,” he groaned, then your name, before he looked you in the eye. You resisted the urge to dive right back in. “Let me eat you out,” he said, suddenly determined, though still flushed and dazed. “Please.”

All you could say was “What?” because, surely, this was one big dream.

“Please.” His hands hadn’t stilled, still rubbing shapes into your thighs, his hips rolling up against yours. “Can I?”

Your entire body was on fire. “Okay, yeah. Yes.”

He wasted no time flipping the both of you over, laying you against the bed so he could kiss down your neck. You barely had a moment to process, your hands moving to tangle in his hair, one of his knees slotted between your legs. He tugged at the bottom of your shirt, prompting you to lift yourself slightly and help him get it off. Your bra came next. “You, too,” you murmured, pulling at his shirt and making him chuckle. He reached behind his head, tugging it off in one swift movement and abandoning it beside your shirt and bra on his freshly cleared floor.

One of his hands slid down your chest from your shoulders, enclosing one of your breasts, the thumb circling your nipple. You bit your lip and sighed, pulling him down for another kiss by the back of his neck.

Art let his hand trail from your chest down the sides of your stomach, then slotted his palm right between your legs, over your underwear. You gasped quietly, pulling away long enough for him to return his lips to your neck, your shoulders, your collar bone. You murmured a couple choice words as he started to move his palm, rubbing at your clit through the fabric. The dulled sensation was almost enough on its own, paired with the kisses he left against your chest. “Arthur,” you whined, tugging at his hair. “Don’t fucking tease me.”

A grin overtook his face at the use of his name, his hands only slowing down, tracing torturously slow circles over you. Art only snickered at your glare before hooking his fingers into the waist band of your underwear, pulling it down and leaving you in your skirt pushed up to your waist. He watched you carefully as he slid further down so that his head was between your legs. His finger only traced a line from your clit to the bottom of your hole before whatever restraint he had was gone, and his mouth was on you.

Art’s tongue flattened against you, the warmth and friction making your head fall back as your eyes fell closed. “Fuck,” you moaned, hands threading into his hair as he answered with an equally obscene noise, muffled against you. ‘Hungry’ didn’t even begin to describe him, his mouth falling into a vague rhythm, eyes closed blissfully, whining into your pussy like it was doing him just as much good as it was you.

You thought about asking him to finger you while he worked, but his tongue prodded at your entrance and almost immediately, words escaped you. You brought one hand up to your face, clasping it over your mouth to muffle your moans, but Art stopped suddenly, watching your face. You whined your confusion, and he reached out to tug at your hand. “I wanna hear you. Let me.”

You blinked at him, chest heaving, and murmured “Alright,” before watching his head dive right back between your thighs, one hand still intertwined with yours. You had no choice but to moan unabashedly, your other hand busy pulling at his hair.  His free hand was wrapped around the outside of your thigh, pushing it in towards his head, so tightly you were sure it couldn’t be comfortable. But there he was, continuing to move his tongue against you like there was nothing else he’d rather do, whining and whimpering like you were his first meal in weeks. “Fuck, Art,” you cried, barely keeping your eyes open so you could watch him move. “You’re gonna make me cum.”

He groaned at that, relenting the pressure of your thighs against his head just long enough to reply: “That’s it, baby, please.” If he had anything else to say, he couldn’t keep himself off of you long enough to finish, already pushing your thighs back against his head, nose bumping against your clit as he bobbed up and down.

It seemed like that was all it took, really. You squeezed his hand and his head embarrassingly tight as you felt yourself tip over the edge, head thrown back and eyes squeezed shut. Art kept up his rhythm as you cried out his name, your hips rolling against his face. He didn’t stop even when you’d come down, chest heaving, until you basically pushed him off, desperate for a moment of relief.

He kept a hand on your thigh, the other untangling from yours to push his blonde hair out of his eyes and look at you. He was breathing as hard as you were, you noticed. His mouth hung open as he panted, the entire bottom half of his face coated in saliva and your arousal. Fuck, he was pretty like this. “‘S good?”

You shook your head, beckoning him toward you and pulling him down by the back of his neck when he was close enough. “You’re unbelievable,” you murmured, lips against his almost before you were even done speaking. You didn’t mind the stickiness. You pulled back to look at him, then glanced down to the tent in his pants. “Lemme return the favor.”

Art let out a breathless chuckle. “I don’t think I’m gonna last that long,” he said, somewhat embarrassed. “Not if you’re the one touching me. Not after this.” He gestured to the shine still on his face, to your thighs beneath him. Your face burned, and your smile was so wide that your cheeks hurt.

You shrugged. “Lemme try anyway,” you said, before bringing his ear down to your lips, nipping at the lobe gently. “Please?”

He couldn’t say no to you.

[suiana]

yo i saw ur rb && feel free to write about the renting concept!!! if u do pls tag me i’d love to see <33 😋

😻😻 rhanks genie

(yandere! rental boyfriend x gn! reader) (shitpost kinda) (concept based on this post)

you know, it's not like you were ugly, dumb or poor. in fact, you consider yourself rather attractive, smart and quite rich. but it seems that no one has noticed that which... might've been why you were single for a very long period of time.

very meaning from when you were born up until recently.

you had always desired for a relationship. wanting to experience the joys of love, the romance, the contentment you get whenever you're with that special someone.

unfortunately you never got to experience that. never. even after putting down your dignity and renting a boyfriend.

you had rented a rather pretty looking guy from this... dodgy website called 'rent-a-darling'? was that the name? it probably is. what a weird website it's called. anyways, it was basically a rental boyfriend/girlfriend website and you had absolutely struck gold with it.

perfect face, perfect body, incredibly intelligent... he was basically a work of art. and his personality wasn't half that bad either! he cracked jokes and they were entertaining enough! he made you laugh, feel better about your miserable love life...

but he just wasn't it.

so you decided to end contact with him. there was no point in continuing that rental service anyways. it's not like he'd like you back even if you fell for him.

except that was exactly what happened?? a few days after you officially ended your contact with your absolute god of a rental boyfriend, he showed up at your doorstep, panting as a lovesick look paints his beautiful features.

you were concerned to say the least. after all, you had never seen him act in such a way before. which was why you allowed him in... which led you to your current situation which was far from ideal.

"could you let me go please? my arms are sore..."

"you know, you're really cute like this."

you merely sigh in response, looking away as you grow awkward under his obsessed gaze. this has been the fifth day since he tied you up, only allowing you to leave the bed for meals and the toilet.

and in those five days he's openly admitted to be in love with you.

while it was nice and endearing to hear such words, you only wish it was from someone you actually loved back. and maybe not as crazy as this guy was.

"can you please let me go? do you want money or something? i can give it to you-"

"what i want is your love, and that cannot be bought with money."

he interjects promptly, still smiling at you with his pearly white teeth which were honestly starting to creep you out. why were they so white? why was he so objectively perfect? and why was he madly obsessed with you?

"hey can i just ask something? why are you so obsessed? like just why."

he pauses for a second, hummung contently as he shuts his eyes for a bit.

"I'm not sure why,"

his eyes open again and he continues his sentence. this time, you can't help but feel an impending sense of dread in your gut when he speaks.

"i guess i just really adore you."

he then giggles oddly, tugging at your bedsheets as his face nears yours.

"you complete me, my love."

you grimace as his face nears yours. ugh, what you wanted was that lovey dovey shit you saw on television. not whatever this was. kidnapping and constant moans of how your captor loves you.

but oh well, it is a relationship. just not the one you wanted. maybe you could learn to deal with it-

"darling! if you tell me how much you love me, block everyone else you know, leave your job, and promise to run away with me, I'll untie you! how about it?"

...yeah, you're not dealing with this. perhaps you're just not meant for love.

[heartshapedmisery]

thinking about art x fem reader whose also a tennis player, she gets hurt playing practice against art and he feels so bad.. leading to other things to help her feel better

like best friends to lovers type thing IDK JUST A THOUGHT for a blurb

IM LOVING THIS IDEA THANK U ANON! <3 (this was meant to be shorter but i got so carried away with it lmao)

tags: heavy makeout, slight dry-humping, fingering...

No because Art truly is the competitive type, so if you were to suggest a friendly game after practice he would definitely take it way too seriously...

"What, you're giving up on me now?" he'd taunt when you were getting worn out, bent over with your hands on your knees to catch your breath. You looked up at him to see his knowing smirk, twirling the racket in his hand impatiently.

You didn't expect him to play so hard, since you thought it would just be light-hearted like you had suggested. Though that was the thing about Art; he never went easy on anybody, especially not you—his best friend.

"Nope," you said simply, brushing your fly-away hairs out of your face. "Just wondering why the hell I suggested this."

Art laughed, but didn't give you any sympathies. He waited for you to get back into position before serving to you, and you got back into the game.

It seemed to go well for a while, the bright yellow ball going back and forth between the two of you with a mix of grunts. Adrenaline coursed through your veins, which is why you didn't feel your ankle twist from underneath of you until your body fell onto the court harshly.

A confused whimper sounded from your throat as you rolled over, grasping at your ankle that was now searing with pain. A few tears welled in your eyes as your face contorted with discomfort, the sound of Art's racket smacking down against the court as he quickly jumped over the net and crouched down next to you.

"Oh my god," his eyes scanned your face, his heart sinking at the way you silently sobbed with your head lulled back on the court. He quickly examined your ankle, realizing that it was already swelling and needed to be iced.

"It's okay, it's okay," he assured you sweetly, helping you sit up before wrapping his arm around your waist. "Put your arm around my neck and we're gonna stand up, alright?"

You did as he told you, slinking it around his neck and fisting his shirt as you fought back a cry when he pulled you up, the pressure and bloodflow to your foot making the pain worse.

He tried to help you walk as best as you could, holding you upright while you put all of your weight on your left foot and hobbled with him back to his dorm since it was only a block away from the tennis courts.

When you did finally make it, he helped you over to his bed and helped you sit down gently, before going to his mini fridge and tying up an ice pack for you to put on your ankle.

"I'm so sorry, this is all my fault," he shook his head defeatedly, crouching down in front of you and carefully wrapping the bag around your ankle. The new sensation made your breath hitch, before the pain slowly started to subside.

"No its okay, it was an accident. It's no one's fault," you told him honestly, your mind slightly fogged at the feeling of his hand cupping the back of your calf as he held your foot up. He mindlessly rubbed your soft skin, unaware of the affect it had on you as his mind spiraled.

"No, but I pushed you too hard," he explained, his voice low. "It's my fault."

You shook your head, before taking his face in your hands. You cupped his jaw softly, your forgiving eyes holding his gaze.

"No it's not, stopping beating yourself up about it."

"I know, I just-"

You abruptly cut him off by bringing your lips to his, the apology falling dead in his mouth. You caught him completely off guard, but he still melted into the kiss, allowing his hands to run up the sides of your thighs.

"Now will you stop?" you whispered once you finally pulled away, running your fingers subconsciously through his blonde locks of hair.

He nodded, before pulling you back in for another kiss. He took it upon himself to lay you down against his bed, slotting himself in between your slightly spread legs.

You didn't know why, but this felt so easy. It didn't feel weird or awkward, given that he had been your best friend since high school. If anything, it made perfect sense.

"Is this okay?" he whispered, cradling your head with his free hand while the other ran up your side. You nodded eagerly, giving him the green light to bring his lips back to yours.

Your heartbeat picked up as you felt him harden beneath his shorts against your thigh the more intense the kiss became, his hips slowly beginning to move in seek of friction.

You slipped you tongue into his mouth, earning a moan from him as his hand wandered down your body before grasping your waist and thumbing your hip. Your non-injured leg wrapped around his waist in attempt to bring him closer with a moan, completely enthralled with the feeling of him.

Suddenly, your breath hitched at the feeling of his fingers slipping underneath the waistband of your skirt, dipping into your panties. You let out a shaky moan as Art sunk his middle and ring finger into your soaked cunt, curling them upwards gently as he continued kissing down your jaw and the soft skin of your neck.

It drove him wild how wet you already were for him, the muffled squelching sound of his fingers moving in and out of you making his dick harder.

It didn't take long for him to have your thighs shaking around his hips and your toes curling in your tennis shoes, disgruntled moans mixing with his soft grunts.

You would've never guessed you'd be sprawled out on your best friend's bed coming down from the orgasm he had just given you, but you definitely weren't complaining.

[gallusrostromegalus]

oh my god I am frothing at the mouth PLEASE tell us about how Unohana is SO WEIRD ACTUALLY

(her reveal is my favorite thing in the whole series and I was obsessed with Bleach for a good long time)

I love Unohana. She's magnificently insane and deliciously fun to write so far.

My take on AEIWAM Unohana is that fundamentally, she just wants to be happy.

Oh, that doesn't sound too nuts. I hear you say.

Yeah, but I also headcanon that she has ADHD. We joke a lot about it on this site, but if you have the good fortune to have functioning dopamine factories, allow me to explain the worst part of it, for me.

There's no passive happiness.

Most people, as I understand it, if left to their own devices without undue stressors like capitalism or any particular stimulation, tend to be able to feel pretty okay most of the time. Which fascinates me because if I am left alone without undue stressors but no stimulation, my malfunctioning dopamine factories will shut down and I will rapidly develop a terrible black depression and paranoia that life is cruel and I will never experience happiness again and also my appetite vanishes and sleep cycle collapses and I will end up mentally and physically distraught, sometimes in less than an hour.

So I've always got to be doing something, or The Horrors get me.

So imagine Unohana, and with a brain that wants to die if she gets bored... living in fantasy magical ancient japan. Not much to do, out in the early days of the soul society, besides being attatcked by monsters, or participating in warfare, or starving to death. the first two, at least, get the blood pumping, but the first is difficult to come by regularly, so as a young woman, the most interesting thing that happens to her on the regular is Mortal Combat.

And how exciting it is! Adrenaline! Dopamine! And on the rare occasions she meets a fellow combat enthusiast, she also gets one of the best things about ADHD- Recognition Responsive Euphoria. You know that great feeling you get at Con or meeting another person with your special interest and you guys just VIBE and it feels like you've been best friends for life in less than five minutes? Yeah, apparently Non-ADHD people don't get that.

So naturally, she develops her skill in combat, not in pursuit of Honor or The Art or something nebulous like, that, but in the simple Pursuit of Happiness. She gets very good at it, and a lot of people die.

But she starts getting... too good at it. The fights don't last, there's nobody willing- let alone able, to meet her on her level and the previous joy she felt fades and fades until she is once again left in the darkness.

Then, a Miracle happens! Some punk stabs her in the lung :)

Man, what an evening for her. Kills a hundred men with barely a stroke and there's no more joy in the world for her when suddenly some barely-legal scarecrow looking bastard with a raggedy sword he pulled out of someone else's corpse appears at the top of the pile of bodies and then goes Ape. Fucking. Shit. on her.

It's the most fun she's had in ages! He's strong and fast and his moves are inefficient but delightfully unpredictable and by the GODS the STAMINA! Alright, she might be 1,000 years his senior but in the soul society age really is just a number and she can't help but be charmed.

So she flirts back by nearly cutting his face off. This DELIGHTS him!

And there it is again, that sudden feeling of intimacy between like-minded individuals, only these two ships aren't passing in the night, there' here to make Titanic 2: Electric Boogaloo. They make eye contact, and know-they're just like me.

True Love is a wonderful thing.

It's also a great opportunity for a surprise thrust and she only sort of manages to block it, and despite the feeling of blood pooling in her lung, she returns the blow full across his chest.

She staggers back, coughing.

He, miraculously, sits up, coughing. He won't die if he can crawl off somewhere to lick his wounds, but he can't continue the fight either.

She stands up, teeth gritted through the pain, and sheathes Minazuki. "What's your name?" She asks. "So I may find you to fight again."

"Don't have one." he wheezes. "But I'll never forget yours."

She's had men spit that as a threat to her before. It sounds very different as a declaration of love.

"Yachiru." she says, trying to not cough up blood. "Unohana Yachiru."

*

A Year later, there's a problem.

Soul Society has a bit of a problem with lungs. They can make entire fake bodies for shinigami to travel the living world, but individual organs, especially lungs... never seem to transplant well. Perhaps it's the fact they're already dead.

Her left lung is "healed" in the sense that it no longer has extraneous holes in it, but... Godsdammit, she still has all the power but none of the stamina. Barely 10 minutes into a fight and she's wheezing worse than The Old Man. 20 minutes and her hands are starting to shake and she's seeing spots in her eyes because she can't breathe well enough to keep the oxygen in her veins. Her fights usually last seconds so functionally she's still one of the most powerful people in the afterlife but it's a far cry from where she was before.

She can no longer be the 11th division's Kenpachi. Hell, she can no longer be the woman she was before.

"Unless you figure out some new medical miracles, this is as healed as it's going to get." Explains the chief medical officer after yet another frustrating checkup.

"...If that's what it takes." She decides.

The next morning she re-enrolls in the Shinigami Academy, under the name Unohana Retsu. The sole change she makes to her appearence is to braid her hair down the front of her chest because people WILL ask about the scar, and she doesn't want to think about how badly she's letting down that warrior with no name.

Either she needs to learn how to get back to his level, or find a new rival and learn to heal them to actually last the 20 minutes she has, or she'll die.

She studies.

To her vast surprise, bodies are actually fascinating. She'd previously seen that there were lots of interesting organs inside people but now learning what they are and how they work and the fact that the human body is already astonishingly death-resistant compared to most animals AND a carefully balanced meat sculpture minutes away from catastrophic failure at all times delights. She learns about the extreme ways humans can survive and the bizarrely mundane ways they can die, and she starts to form an idea- not an image, not a philosophy per se- but a working theory of how to keep someone alive and moving for as long and far as they will go, and what they need to stay upright.

This idea shines so brightly that it can keep that terrible darkness away.

The century practically flies by, and one night she stays up manually pumping the mechanism on a device used to keep the also-failing lungs of a young boy going after the power goes out. He's been blessed by A God that he's lived as long as he has, but even Gods can fuck up sometimes and she effectively has to breathe for him for twelve hours until the God gets its shit back together and he can breathe under his own power again.

"Hell of a fight you put in, keeping him alive." says one of her colleagues, collapsing beside her out in the 4th division medical garden where all the doctors go to smoke.

Retsu slowly exhales the smoke, fatigued but still coming down from the high of success. She cocks her head. Her body aches and her mind races and her heart thrills, just like- "I guess it was. " she realizes. "Interesting fight, going 12 hours in the ring with a dying child and winning because he walked away at the end." She laughs, and hands him the cigarette to share.

"You weirdo." he colleague laughs. He's far too young to remember when she was Yachiru. Most of them are these days, and it's a weird sort of peaceful anonymity and personal joke. "You weren't fighting the kid. If we were actually allowed to fight patients, I'd've stabbed the Kuchki hypochondriac decades ago." he grumbles, taking his own drag.

She snorts. "Who was I fighting then?"

"Death?" smoke billows out as he laughs, like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

She freezes. Oh. Oh. That's why she likes this so much. She's gone from fighting mere men to the one opponent she knows she can win battles with, but never the war, and who will defeat her personally someday.

"Are. Are you crying?" he asks, a little worried.

"I- yes." She laughs, tears streaming down her face. "I just fell in love all over again."

"Ouch." he nods sympathetically, offering her the cigarette back. "Who with?"

"Death's own Angel, apparently." She giggles, feeling positively prepubescent with this crush.

And thus she goes on, for centuries, learning everything there is to know about bodies and minds and how the two keep each other going and the ways she can help. She gets very good at it, and a many more people do not die.

But there is a special, secret place in her heart for that nameless warrior that defeated her in battle, and made her stronger than every before.

*

Nearly 1,000 years after she stopped being Kenpachi, she is supervising the annual "see if you can kill the captain" tournament. Her colleague Kaname is there, a walking anxiety disorder with undoubtedly real but strangely hard to diagnose phantom pains, but he's still easily in her top 10 coworkers of all time because he made her a new medical record filing system so functional they were actually able to recataloge three millennia of medical records into a usable format in under a decade. He can come twitching into her office any time he likes, especially if it gets her that mass vaccination process for the Rukongai he's been biting The Old Man's heels for.

Then

as suddenly as he had appeared the first time,

He's back.

He's older now and larger, having matured into a spectacular bastard, but there's no mistaking that cutting edge on his reiatsu (which, oh, that has gotten much, much stronger since last time) or that scar running down his face as he turns from where he had just cleft the previous Kenpachi in twain, and stares out into the crowd in the shower of blood, challenging anyone to do something about it. Hell, even when Yamamoto appears to congratulate him on his promotion, Death's own angel's first reaction is to turn to fight the old man without hesitation.

He then promptly picks three different fights with four captains in under five minutes, tells Yamamoto to shove the job up his ass, imply he's had a WILD collection of vocations in the last millennium and furthermore, he has to get home to his daughter.

...Named Yachiru.

Hilariously, Unohana is only having the second weirdest time about this here, because Kaname and Kenpachi are, somehow, even weirder than she is.

[natashatrace]

top gun: mav. post-canon, mavnix, could be background bob/rooster or hangman/rooster if you squint, dagger family vibes, comedy text chain, etc etc etc. 💜

//

“oh my god.”

maverick squints one eye open at the sound of phoenix’s voice, arms wrapped around the pillow beneath his head. it’s early enough that he’s still mostly asleep, even as he feels the dip of the bed from phoenix sitting up and running her thumb over his cheek.

“mmph. what.”

“you have a zit,” she replies, far too cheerfully for this hour of the morning. “oh my god. there's proof.”

“proof?” maverick rasps, swatting half-heartedly at her hand when he realizes she’s snapping a picture with her phone.

“proof that you’re human,” she grins. “and not just a beautiful robot with zero imperfections.”

maverick snorts, wiping at his eye and then feeling for the zit on his cheek that phoenix is so thrilled about. "doesn't feel like much of a spot. who're you sendin' the picture to?"

he can hear phoenix's thumbs tapping at her phone screen as she replies, "daggers, obviously. this is an important development for our squadron."

"that their former team leader has a zit?"

phoenix just shoots him a bright grin, nose wrinkling in the way he loves so much. "that their former team leader is human." after a moment, she tilts her head and adds, "fanboy is going to be the most upset, I think."

maverick rolls onto his back, stretching his arms over his head with a yawn. when he rolls the back of his head against his pillow to look over at phoenix, she's already looking back at him — well. looking at his hips, barely covered by the sheet. he smirks and breathes out a soft, "eyes up, tash. m'still half asleep."

she doesn't skip a beat. "you look pretty awake to me."

maverick takes a breath to reply, but he's stopped by the sound of phoenix's phone buzzing on the mattress between them. she reads through the messages and laughs, handing her phone over to maverick after a moment so he can read them.

coyote: he could still get it!!

hangman: and he clearly IS, ain't he, phoenix? 😉

payback: 30 second countdown to rooster threatening violence starts now

fanboy: this is OBVIOUSLY a ploy to throw us off. he knows we're onto him! get it trending my dudes #robotMav

phoenix: you can't hashtag in a text chain

fanboy: not with that attitude

bob: he could still be an alien. who else would survive mach 10

phoenix & hangman, simultaneously: 10.3

rooster: he blew the plane up, doesn't count

rooster: also if the zit is on his face, WHY is the photo a full length, nat. why.

maverick scrolls up, realizing that the picture not only includes the zit on his cheek, but it's angled to show the bare expanse of his back and half of his ass, uncovered by the sheets.

he sighs, laughing to himself. "natasha."

"what?" she asks innocently, barely containing the smirk and the gleam of mischief in her eyes. "maybe I wanted to show you off a little."

"mm. only a little?"

he drops the phone to the floor when phoenix slides onto his chest, leaning down to kiss him and laughing against his mouth. maverick can hear it buzzing with text after text, but phoenix expertly diverts his attention elsewhere.

hangman: cause a body like that is art, bradshaw.

rooster: shooting you down next hop.

payback: the violence!

coyote: nat, tell mav he's still the prettiest old man we know.

rooster: has left the group

bob: has added 'rooster' to the group

bob: I'd miss you

rooster: you're the only good one, bobby

hangman: nat stopped replying, y'all. what do we think THAT means? rooster? you wanna take a guess?

rooster: you're gonna look so pretty burning in

hangman: that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me

[delayed]

phoenix: sorry, did you guys need something? I was a little tied up

coyote: 😏

hangman: atta girl

rooster: blocking ur number

phoenix: 😘

[beavauna]

Carmine Discussion

Okay, I’ve never done this before, but considering there are a lot of Carmine haters on here, I thought I’d give it a try.

I’m getting sick of going online and seeing Carmine portrayed negatively. There’s people calling her racist, sexist, xenophobic, and all around other horrifying things. It’s like I can’t go anywhere without seeing her drawn in a negative lot, and there’s even porn art where she’s portrayed like this, and I thought it’s time someone put a stop to it. (which I stumbled into on accident.)

Look, I get she’s supposed to be protective older sibling character, but people keep treating her like she’s not a character, like a puppet they can throw their problems on.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, Bea.” But I do. There have only be three known sibling groups in Pokemon, Carmine and Kieran being one of them.

The best example I can give is Clemont and Bonnie. They’re brother and sister, and of course- they have their issues. Clemont is the older, protective sibling character, while Bonnie is the younger sibling who just wants to be trainer, but is often followed by her brother who wants to protect her and keep her safe.

I get Clemont’s nicer than Carmine is initially, but I’ve NEVER seen any hateful art drawn of him. It could be just because of how popular XYZ was, but like-

There should be people who portray him negatively, but I’ve never seen that.

The XYZ anime was great. Most people consider it the greatest Pokemon series of all time, with all its characters, story, Pokemon, (coughs. Amourshipping.) and much, much more.

If you ask someone, they’ll most likely tell you that their favorite anime is XYZ. And it’s the same with me.

(I’d like to mention I’ve never watched the anime where May and Max came from. I don’t even know the name- shsjsvsh. I’m not forgetting about them, I just have never watched it.)

But my point is; It’s like people automatically think that Carmine was supposed to be the Clemont character and Kieran was supposed to be the Bonnie character.

“Oh my god she’s so mean to Kieran. She doesn’t give a shit about him.”

Because older siblings are like that?? I’m an older sibling to a (currently) 7 year old brother, and our relationship is like this.

When people first saw Carmine, people were in absolute awe of her design. There was fanart galore, discussions, ext ext.

But when the game officially came out, here came the hate.

And to be honest? I hated her too, but after playing the Teal Mask for a while, I started to like her. She reminded me of myself in a way. (Despite me being transmasculine/nonbinary) And for the love of her design to immediately go to ‘hey let’s make awful art of her’ makes me sick.

She’s honestly my favorite comfort character. She makes me happy.

And I know there’s awful art of characters in every fandom, but my point is: Why hate on Carmine when she’s simply just the living example of an actual sister and brother relationship? People can change, you know. Like goddamn…

She can go through changes. Plot exists for a reason. Like- can people actually get their act together and realize things aren’t so fucking black and white??

That being said; If you’re a Carmine hater, block me and move on. If you’re a Carmine hater but understand what I’m getting at, feel free to stay around! I’m always happy to spread the word and remove one of my favorite video game characters from a negative light.

~ Bea

[xshybutdeadlyx]

Questions for the demiromantic and demisexuals out there

Ok, so I've recently found this term thanks to an aroace character from a show I watched. I knew of the sexuality but I didn't really know the specifics because I always thought I was bi but now looking into it I didn't know how aroace was like a literal umbrella and there was so much more to it then meets the eye. Which I'm 30 I feel like I should know more than what I do. But with doing research into it trying to understand it better, I learned about all the terms, and I learned about demiromantic and demisexual and it really resonated with me. But I wanted to ask for advice, I guess? Like I like romance I love reading it seeing art and what have you but when it comes to romance for myself I'm not a big fan? And maybe it's because I literally have to unlearn so much romance equals a, b, and c when that's not really true. I literally been in only one relationship in my life and it consisted of hand holding small kisses (no tongue, honestly I have an ick with spit and the only reason I "wanted" to do deeper kisses with the boyfriend I had at the time was because I felt like it was a requirement) but I honestly didn't feel attraction towards him until after getting to know him and being friends with him for months well into almost a year. And he's the only one I ever felt that way for I hardly ever had crushes or when I did I almost kinda forced myself into having them if that makes sense? It was "natural," and every kid was supposed to have crushes. Nothing ever came from the "crushes" though.

Now, like I said, I'm well into my 30s, and the relationship I just mentioned was the only relationship romantic wise I've ever had. I have had strong feelings for two of the friends I have but one friend is straight as they come and the other is married lol the one that is married though we have a strong bond that I wouldn't trade anything for. She tickles my hand, and she lets me cuddle her all the time, and we just spend nights just playing games together, just like when we were in high school. I love her so damn much, and I'll cherish what we have even when we are both dead and gone. She is my forever person.

Sorry, I went into a mini rant about my platonic love, but she's the best, and when I start talking about her, I have to gush lol, but anyways back to my sexuality crisis

So anyways, when there is even a chance of someone having an interest in me, I honestly kind of freak out. Or like if someone tries to set me up with someone, red neon flashing warning signs pop up for me. I don't know that person, and honestly, I get put off by big romantic gestures. Like, I appreciate it, but I don't think it's necessary? Can we just go get McDonald's, sit in the parking lot, and just shoot the shit? Play some games? We can watch movies or shows too.

I've also been on the dating websites and such as well, and I'm just always immediately put off. "Hello beautiful," ugh. "Insert pickup line here." please God why. "Unsolicited romantic or sexual advances right after a day of talking." Haha, no. There was literally one guy I thought was cool and we kinda flirted but it was really just talking everyday about the games we were playing I feel like if given time a connection could of been built but he ended up finding someone else immediately. Which honestly was fine I was kinda bummed but like if he wanted romance immediately, I wasn't gonna be giving that to him. I wanted to still be friends, but apparently, we had "too much history," so he ended up blocking me. lol oh well.

I've also literally only have had two "crushes" in like in a 5 year time span (only because this is what I can remember lol) one of em was so goofy and seemed so fun but then it seems like they turned out to be very self absorbed instantly done the other had baby mama drama wasn't into that. Honestly, those things seem to be things that could be worked through? Maybe? But once I just see something off-putting, it's all I see, which seems more like a personal thing because of past traumas.

As of now I'm honestly content with no romantic relationship but I feel like I do want one but I don't want one with just anyone and it just doesn't seem like many people out there are willing to wait or willing to be friends first and want to hop into relationships immediately when I very much don't. It takes me a while to be comfortable with people, and I want to get to know them as a person.

For a long time I felt like I just wasn't doing things right or that I had to actually change something that I was doing. I thought I was wrong or that I should just force myself into the uncomfortable situation of being someone's girlfriend immediately but then if it turns out I just don't have those romantic feelings then there the whole process of hurting them which is just anxiety inducting.

Also, with all that I'm saying, it does go into the demisexual portion, too. I've still never been with someone sexually because even in the one relationship I have had, I haven't met someone I've trusted to give myself to. The thought of one night stands or anything of the like just makes me wanna crawl into myself. I don't mind anything sexual but I want to be with someone sexually that I trust and care about with my whole being, not some dude Craig or some chick Wendy from Tinder. I'm content with that, but a lot of the times, I'm almost made to feel bad because I haven't done anything sexual. But boy, can I read all the smut on Ao3. Like it all in theory, but dunno about in practice lol I just don't have much of a drive in general, but I don't know if that's just because I've never been with anyone before? I keep getting told, "As soon as you're with someone, your sex drive changes," and like, does that shit really happen? Lol

All in all, I really feel connected to the terms demiromantic and demisexual. Even when I just said I'm bi, it just never felt right, but for once, I feel like I finally found something that I felt connected to and finally found me. But I guess I also wanna feel like I'm right in assuming so? I dunno I feel like it'd be disrespectful in using a label that isn't really you? Which doesn't sound right because everyone has the right to find themselves, and sometimes people go through a list until they finally find themselves, which is what's happening to me right now. But my feelings also just get jumbled up and I have a hard time distinguishing what's been conditioned in me, like how you date, you get into a relationship, ya do couple things, then you get married ect. When all I wanna do is get to know you, really know you, then actually date but even then I feel like a lot of my stuff is more on the platonic end? Like, I like cuddling and kissing, and I do like romance but on a more tame level? I kick my feet when reading "he bought her all these extravagant gifts then he swept her off her feet and dipped her into a kiss" so cute but like if I was actually in that situation like bro put me down for real and I'm so awkward when given gifts lol

I dunno I'd just would really like to discuss this with others who have found themselves because I don't really have anyone else to talk to about this. I've talked to my friends and they of course support me and love me but I feel like they don't really get it? And my family just chalks it up to " Ya just don't have a lot of experience it'll all change when ya get out there and mingle with people"

Thanks in advance for reading all this if ya made it this far I know it's a lot of word vomit as I like to call it but I don't have very organized thoughts and I just kinda write what I'm thinking in the moment lol

[midnightblues444]

Erato |

Apollo!Geto x muse! Reader

Summary: the best way to get over artist block is to find a new source of inspiration

Content warnings: really rushed, suggestive

Muses, goddesses of the arts and embodiments of poetry, art and music, linked closely with the God of music Apollo and anything to do with art. Creativity ran through your veins, as a muse you were created to create.

At least you're supposed to,

With a loud crashing sound, yet another canvas has been thrown against the marble tile, and you let out a groan of utter frustration. You feel like tearing your hair out at this point with the way your works are coming out. The frustration settles in your bones while you scan the littered floor for another blank canvas to start on.

"What ever is the matter?" Another muse hurrys into your studio, looking frantic, gawking at the state of your space. "Don't worry, I'm just frustrated, my work is not going my way" you sigh out, fixing your set up. She half heartedly helps you neaten the easel, she picks up stray art pieces , studying them briefly.

"Well maybe you just need a change in inspiration, it's what works for me" she suggests, noticing how the past works all look somewhat the same. All being of nude women in gardens or on couches sitting prettily.

You think about it, looking at your failed creations, nodding slowly. Your fellow muse smiles,gently touching your shoulder "make sure to clean this mess up, Geto-sama will be here any minute for his visit" she says and makes her way out.

When Geto comes for visits, the other muses end up in a frenzy. Swarming him excitedly, showing off the art they've created bickering for his attention. Geto Suguru better known as Apollo did have something about him that caused such a fret, his presence alone even makes you want to impress him, absent mindedly holding your breath in hopes of his praises.

You know he's here by the sounds of the excited squeals coming from down the hall, opting to stay in your studio a bit longer to atleast start with thinking up a new piece.

---

His Dark robes loose around his torso and hips, he warmly smiles at everyone he greets. Personalised greetings laced with the familiarity between him and the muses, shows the genuine relationship Geto has with his muses. That's probably why he picks up on your absence so quickly.

"And where is Y/n?" He asks warmly, when everyone had settled. "Oh y/n's been having creative block, so probably still in the studio", Geto nods and makes his way to you, he knows he could've waited for you to greet him in your own time but Geto has always been undeniably drawn to you.

His touches lingering a little longer, his gaze never faltering while you speak to him, he never put much action in his apparent infatuation especially because you never noticed it. So hes kept it somewhat friendly

--

The sound of the doors opening snapped you from your daze. You fight the urge of lashing out at the blank canvas staring back at you, directing your attention to the person at the door.

"Geto-sama" you gasped, standing abruptly in greeting. He smiles fondly, "and hello to you too" he teases, you smile at the taunt.

"I never pegged you for the messy type" he motions at the state of your studio, you feel a sudden wave of self consciousness fill your cheeks, embarrassed you laugh lightly. "I've been having... issues"

"So I've been told" he steps closer to you and your easel, bending to view your canvas his eyebrows knitting together at the sight. "I was advised to change my subject matter but I'm unsure as to what," you stumble trying to explain why the canvas was blank.

He hums in response standing up right, his fingers gently lift your chin to look up at him, his eyes glow with a mischievous glint that you cant quite place.

"Why don't you paint me instead hm?"

Your breath hitches and you find yourself nodding quickly, agreeing, he smiles.

What exactly was happening to you, your body is reacting to the simple phrase in a way you've never seen, you've painted people before, on that very couch infact, so why does your head feel like its spinning. Before you could catch up, he's sliding onto the couch and unclipping the bun that half way held his hair up , he slips out of his robes keeping a mere pieces of cloth between your gaze and his manhood.

You blinked hazily as he leaned over the arm of the couch on his forearms, raven strands sliding past his bare shoulders. You hastily grab hold of your paint brush, nervously glancing between him and the canvas.

"Geto-sama, could you maybe move to the right?" You break the silence, he shifts but you still dont like the pose. Shyly you stand, moving to him, kneeling to the level of the couch silently motioning to ask for permission to touch him.

"Go ahead I'm yours to move,"

You should have hesitated more, when your fingers grazed his cheek making him face a different direction, cupping his face, glancing at his lips, noticing your proximity.You both didn't expect the kiss that followed, shocked by yourself you pull away.

"Kiss me again" he says calmly, hesitantly you pull him in again, the kiss starts tentative but grows more with want. Your hands rest on his shoulders running your finger tips on his skin, his fingers are tangled in your hair, panting he moves from your lips to your neck, your soft breathless moans get louder as the desperation becomes more apparent.

"God.." he groans into your neck, "I should have done this sooner" pulling you on his lap with ease, you can feel him through the cloth and suddenly you realize what's happening.

"Geto-sama slow down.." you whimper, lips ghosting over his “we can drop the formalities, yeah?” he suggests slyly.

“Yeah” you sigh in response, briefly kissing him again intoxicated by how he hikes your drapery to your waist. Moving himself to be aligned with your entrance.

Everything you knew about art was that it was an expression of oneself, unpredictable and raw, that was art. This feeling, this experience to you can be equated to an art form itself, so you try clearly visualise what it would look like as a painting.

But you're too focused on the feeling of Suguru filling you up, feeling fuzzy, and drunk on him instead you try ingraining this feeling deep into your memory. In hopes your body and mind dont forget, so you can capture it later. But thinking about if you somehow forget this feeling, you wouldn’t mind a little reminder. You cant help but wonder..

...This counts as new inspiration right?

[marcel-akira]

Random delulu doodle of slenderman that I did. Having kinda an art block recently but this time I just went on and had some fun. I tried to make it look kinda messy, played with stuff and I swear, I looked like a crazy person while doing it. (I am a certified crazy person)

It may look kinda crappy but hell, I had fun. You know, feeling like the ultimate edgy teenager, drawing this like a patient of an asylum while listening to Get Scared and Three Days Grace like the old times when I was the ✨weird creepypasta kid✨™

Coming back to it kinda lately. And well, since I'm still not really out of the teenage years, still in highschool, I have time to be the weird creepypasta kid some more. Especially since I started my quest to watch all the Slenderverse series, track back all the important ARGs and oh god, I started with EverymanHYBRID, finished it a couple of days ago and I do NOT regret. I wholeheartedly recommend but remember, you never will get the salad recipie. It's been over fourteen years and it seems like Slendy does not want us to ever know it. And HABIT is a vibe. I love this guy, this silly evil menace to society<3 and I love you; the great, awesome, incredible people who came here and actually read all that.

I love how the background came out tho! It really reminds me of the cover of Best Kind Of Mess album from Get Scared :D

Remember to do whatever the hell makes y'all happy and take good care of yourselves and your loved ones. No matter what other people think, be yourself and do your thing, enjoy and embrace all the weirdness in you because we all are a bit weird and that's what makes us special. I am proud of you all and believe in you with my whole heart<3

-M.A.J.

[giganonyx]

TBB SEASON 3 SPOILERS

HEADS UP- I WILL BE TAGGING EACH OF MY EPISODE REVIEW THINGS WITH “tbb s3 spoilers”, AND OTHER SPOILER TAGS, PLEASE BLOCK THESE TAGS SO U DONT GET SPOILED!!!

AHHHHH OMEGA MY BABY. She has a pony tail stoppp my child is all grown up I will cry. Ok but she ate the new hairstyle she is slaying.

ERGH SHE HAS BEEN THERE 150 DAYS. Sick and twisted. She contrasts SO heavily with the whole sterile, orderly environment, it’s literally heartbreaking to watch. Forced into this mindless routine, her hopeful attitude constantly being beaten down on?? HURTING. GET HER OUT OF THIS HELL HOLE.

GOD seeing Crosshair look so broken BROKE ME. His shaking hands??? They took away the ONE thing he still had- his superior sniping skills, his steady hand. They took that AWAY from him. FUCKED UP. THEY TORE HIM DOWN. I can’t I’m so sad.

DADDY’S HOMEEEJWJWISNWIANQOQOQB (Hunter was on screen for the first time this season) (He is SO FINE)(MY HUSBAND HAS RETURNED FROM HIS HIATUS IN A TRAUMATIZED STATE BUT NONETHELESS HAS RETURNED TO GRACE MY SCREEN AND BE THE LIGHT OF MY LIFE)

I had a horrible sense of dread overtake my body when he said something like “our mission isn’t over yet”… like idk I felt so ILL. PAIN. WHY do I have the feeling my man isn’t going to make it SHUT UP.

ALSO HIM MAKING RECKLESS DECISIONS???? The kidnapping of his daughter and the death of his brother have done a NUMBER on this man.

WRECKER my cutie patootie!! Yk it’s bad when Wrecker starts to become a voice of reason (which, Hunter in his desperate mindset, promptly ignores 😭)

HAHBANQKNSJQQKO CROSSHAIR IS SO FUNNY DURING HIS ESCAPE WITH OMEGA- literal snark fest

Need Omega bullying a mouse droid on repeat.

Stop mouse droid bullying 😭

OOOO NALA SE’S WARNING TO OMEGA TO LEAVE?? I’m scared. And Omega ate it up tho. She said “say less lmao I’m gone ✌️”.

Did palpy not feel a disturbance into the force. Was bro so into the “project Necromancer deets” he couldn’t tell his vessel was peacing out. Common Palpy L.

RUN OMEGA TAKE YOUR SARCASTIC BROTHER WITH U

JUST A GIRL AND HER DOG AND HER GRUMPY BROTHER EHEHEHEHE

OUGAHHH OK OK IM BOUNCING AROUND EPISODES HERE BUT STAY WITH ME

WHEN CROSSHAIR SAID “forget the hound, Omega.”, it lowkey felt like he was talking about himself. He was telling her to forget him, he was a broken animal, with no point in nurturing back to health. She needs to give up on him if she wants to move forward. BUT SHE DIDNT BECAUSE MAMA DIDNT RAISE NO UNLOYAL LOSER. NO. OMEGA IS THE REALEST ONEEEEE.

EMERIE you confuse me. I hate u yet am intrigued by u. Looking forward to her character development ahhhh.

HUNTER MY POOKIE BEAR BACK TO HIM BC that man was doing FLIPS chopping off the eldritch horror vines. They snatched his brother and he said “hell naw hoe let go of my BRO” and just. Went to town. Me when Hunter exists 🎉🎉🎉🎉

OH OU OH IHHIWHAIANQO ALSO THE MYSTERY GUY IN THE GREEN TACTICAL ARMOR?? IS THE ONE DOING THE “TORTURE” OR WHATEVER TO CROSSHAIR AND THAT GROUP OF CLONES??? If that’s really tech I’m gonna scream. You’re telling me he’s torturing his own brother. Tech would never even THINK about doing shit like that the man just wants to read nerdy newspapers. Desecration of the nerd lifestyle. OK I REALLY HOPE ITS HIM. LIKE I REALLY DO. OOO PLEASE I WILL CRY. WHY ELSE WOULD THEY SHOW THIS MYSTERY CLONE. NO NEED. IT HAS TO BE BROWN EYES (delusion).

OK I AM SO TIRED MY HEAD HURTS MY LIFE IS CHANGING Jesse we need to cook (I need to make tbb art) BUT I AM GOING TO BED FIRST

[rayshippouuchiha]

yo i'm seeing a lot of dishing about the purity culture of fandom and i absolutely agree

but i'd like to ask

do 'incest fic' count, i mean specifically i'm in the batfam fandom and if you try and write pairing with batman's adopted kids /former robins together everyone and their mother starts screaming at you both online and on ao3, and if you point out the lack of blood relation all you get it 'it's still incest oh my god you're a horrible person who doesn't believe in adopted sibling relationships' and like... i just wanna smush the two pretty vigilante characters together, it's very exhausting, and it also applies to discord, the fandom is very hardcore about policing this and like I get it to an extent because I've seen a lot of posts about how 'seeing batcest on my dash turns my stomach' 'having to scroll past bastcest on ao3 to get anything good is disturbing and disgusting' and tagging, is not enough for these people, i've seen some poor fools pointing out instances of real life adopted siblings who've ended up together due to the adoption being their parents decision ect and the vitriol that's met with is very aggressive, they basically just don't want it to exist and don't want people who ship it to feel safe talking about it out in the open on tumblr because it's weird and something to feel ashamed of that you shouldn't force 'normal people' to see.

And it's like, why do I have to be treated like a fucking leper in online spaces over a ship? It's literally scarlet letter shit where if someone posts something with nightwing x red hood art even if it's cute and utterly harmless like one of them blushing over a hot chocolate people will literally go into their mutuals askbox and 'warn' them that that person you reblogged from likes batcest. Legitimately. It's so toxic.

See, if you're tagging your ship correctly, if you're rating it correctly, if you're posting it in the appropriate places, if you are making it clear what it is that you've created so that others who don't want to interact with it can keep scrolling without clicking or can use their blacklist functions, then you're not doing anything wrong and your responsibility is pretty much over.

And that goes for any ship, any trope, and any fic in any fandom.

It does not matter.

No singular person or group of people has the right to police an entire fandom just because there's content being created that they don't personally like or agree with.

As long as those creators are keeping their content to the appropriate places (i.e. not posting explicit material in a general audience server or purposefully putting ship content under the wrong tag to force others to see it) then it's everyone else's responsibility to curate their own fandom experiences by using blacklists, mute functions, exclude filters, the block button, or just not clicking on content they know they don't like or agree with.

There are ships and tropes that turn my stomach. I don't want to see them, consume them, or even think about them because they squick me out.

And that's on me.

So I block, I blacklist, I mute, and I don't click.

Because the burden of responsibility for what I consume in fandom is on me.

Fandoms are like villages. Yeah, we're all living in close proximity but that doesn't give anyone else the right to come into my house uninvited and tell me they don't like my decor or that I can't cook this particular meal in my kitchen because they are allergic to it even though I never invited them to dinner.

So ignore the people who try and do that.

Tend your roses, fill your shelves, make your meals, and enjoy yourself instead.

[oldiesstationlover11607]

Water fight - Mikey Way x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Mikey Way x Fem!Reader

Warnings: None!

Word Count: 753

Summary: You and Mikey hang out on summer break

“Hey Missy!” Gerard calls out from across his front yard. Gerard and Mikey are probably some of the best neighbours a girl could have. Both awesome to play with when we were younger and now, my best friends. 

“Hey Gee! Hey Mikey!” I shout as Mikey runs up to me. 

“Hi,” he smiles, sitting down next to me, long legs stretched along the stairs. He’s cute. Cuter than he knows. 

“What’s new?” I ask. 

“There’s this really cool comic that Gee found last night and I read it in like two hours last night. It was the best. It was all about these superheroes that were in group therapy, it was so cool,” he laughs. That amazing smile plastered all over his face. I love listening to the things he says, the excitement that fills him is purely the best thing to experience. 

“That’s cool. I was reading the one you and Gee recommended the other day, Watchmen. It’s actually really good, not gonna lie.”

“I miss your glasses Mikey. They made you look cute,” I look away from him, towards Gerard who is playing with some of the younger kids in the neighborhood. 

“They had to go, I looked like a nerd.”

“You already are a nerd Mike,” I laugh. One of the kids starts to wave me over, throwing a water balloon in my direction. “Oh it’s on!” I shout, grabbing my water gun and running over. Gerard pops out from behind a bush, a water gun in hand. 

“Attack!” he yells as all of the kids start drenching me in cold water. Good thing it’s a hot day. 

“Mikey, help!” I scream trying to run away.

“I got you!” he runs over and stands guard in front of me. His blonde highlights stand out in the sun, bright and shiny. Mike’s prettier than he knows, he really is. The kids continue to run around us, throwing buckets of water, water balloons and firing water guns at us. This is the life we have, seventeen and in senior year, our last proper year together. Gerard’s already left school but he stayed back, commuting into New York for art school, cartooning specifically. Mikey and I told him that he should do music but he was set on comics, of course. He’ll end up on the stage one day though, I know it. And Mikey will be up there with him. I’ve got no idea what I’m going to do in college, or if I'll even go to college. Not to mention the fact that Mikey also has absolutely zero idea as to what he’s gonna do either. 

“Gerard, we're all out of water!” a little boy shouts running behind him. Gee’s always been so good with kids, he’ll be an amazing dad one day, everyone knows it. He spent so much time growing up babysitting the kids on the block and hanging out with them on the weekends, almost acting like their leader. 

“Nooo!” Gee shouts, collapsing to his knees dramatically. 

“Alright guys, I’m gonna go grab a towel from inside, I’m drenched,” I laugh walking back towards my house. Mikey follows behind me, wringing out his t-shirt and his sneakers squelching with each step he takes. “Your hair is so wet,” I laugh, turning to look at him.

“I know. That’s what I get for trying to protect you,” he grabs me by the waist as we get into the house. I feel my cheeks slowly blush, immediately realizing, one, that he’s touching my waist and not in a ‘we’re just friends’ way and two, that he’s actually a lot taller than me, meaning that when he looks down at me, he's the perfect height to kiss me. God, how have I never really thought about Mikey like this? I stand huddled over while he grabs a towel from the closet and passes it to me. 

“I’m cold,” I sigh, tying my hair up and out of my face. We sit down on the porch again, watching Gerard terrorize the kids by shoving the hose in their faces and laughing maniacally. Classic Gerard Way. 

“Of course you’re cold, my brother’s little army gave you a shower,” he laughs. “But you know what?” 

What Mikey? What? What would you possibly say that could make me feel even better than I feel after spending the entire day with you?

“What?”

“You had absolutely no business looking that good back there.”

//

Feedback is appreciated! Please request on my page if you have a story idea. I write for lots of different fandoms so request anything and I'll write it!

[fangirlies]

Pose for you- (x.t)

Pairing: Xavier Thorpe x fem!reader

Request: reader has been asking xavier to see his art for weeks and he finally let's her into his secret shed studio but oh no he forgot to hide his sketchbook full of drawings of reader

Warnings: none. (Please let me know if I should be aware of anything else)

A.N: a little one shot to clear my writers block? I’m in a little funk. could be the start of school making me feel off :(anyway, I hope you enjoy! i wanted to write something small for y’all

don’t ask me how I feel about it lol

You've been bugging Xavier to tell you for weeks now. You constantly wondered about his nighttime whereabouts.

"Come on, tell me! You’ve joined a sinister cult? Oh, oh, I know! You've been hiding your real identity so you morph into this enormous, hideous monster in the middle of the woods.”

“You're so aggravating, god. I have a studio for my art. I go to get some peace and quiet.” The tall, lanky boy tickles your sides as he says, "Away from you.”

His biggest regret ever since that conversation is having revealed that piece of information.

“When can I visit this mysterious art studio, hm?”

“Oh wow look at the time, it’s time to head out into the woods and show me your art shed”

“I just want to see it, Xavi, please please, please, please-“

The constant nagging appeared to be working in your advantage. He eventually agreed to show you the place where he spends the majority of his nights almost decaying as he releases whatever is obscuring his mind onto a canvas.

“I didn't think I’d have any visitors, but fuck, I thought my head would burst if I didn't say yes. So ignore the mess," he said, fiddling with the door's lock. You couldn't resist looking around the shed. The location was literally in the middle of nowhere.

“You don't feel scared coming out here by yourself?”

“Afraid the big bad wolf is going to eat me?” As he flung open the door, he chuckled. You were surprised by how cozy it seemed. His favorite drawings littered the wall furthest away from the door. His art supplies were dispersed about his desk, and in the center of the room was a large easel holding a partially completed canvas with a stool tucked under it. On the floor, there were a few tiny paint splatters of a variety of colors.

“There, you saw it. Can we go grab a bite to eat now?” As he made his way to the door, Xavier shoved his hands in his uniform pockets.

You ignored xavier as you kept looking around the shed. You studied each of his breathtaking drawings. He had a charcoal drawing of a vase with roses on his desk, and behind that one he had drawn a lit candle melting away. The open sketchbook that was buried behind those loose leaf papers caught your attention, though. A pair of familiar looking lips was sketched on the page, and oddly enough, it shared your birthmark's identical spot.

Xavier groaned and leaned against the door frame, "come on y/n, it's nothing you haven't seen in my room before.”

You turned the page in his sketchbook to reveal a pair of eyes. You had to admit that they were stunning. A smile tugged at the corner of your lips at the way he managed to capture the slightest detail and speck. He had such skill. You turned the page once again, and there you were. A drawing of you sitting down in Thornhill's class. With a look of deep concentration on your face, you were writing notes in your notebook about whatever plant you were learning that day. As you turned the page, a drawing of yourself from the night of the raven appeared. A huge smile plastered on your face, and he even went as far to capture each detail of your dress.

“Is- is this me?" Of course it was, you thought, what a stupid question to ask. To be fair, you were surprised that he had a sketchbook filled with drawings of you and your mind was unable to think straight. The book was knocked out of your hands before you could turn to the next page. A flushed and fidgety Xavier stood next to you with wide eyes, the book now hidden behind him. His face was flushed with embarrassment.

“Don’t get all embarrassed now. I think it's cute. Let me see some more," you urged, reaching behind him to reclaim his sketchbook, but he held it up high, out of reach no matter how high you jumped.

“It’s nothing, I just get bored in class and start drawing the first thing that comes to mind” he scratched the back of his head nervously as he spoke.

"Those are quite a few times I’ve crossed your mind then. Looks like someone's a little obsessed with me," you teased as you gave up attempting to reach his secret vault of drawings of you and smiled smugly at him. "I'm going to start charging you for any drawings I’m in.”

His cheeks darkened even more, which you didn't think was possible. Xavier's gaze shifted around the room. Eyes landing on anything other than you, and his breathing became erratic. He was cute whenever he got nervous. You approached him and moved the loose strands of hair behind his ears to calm him down. Your hands directed his gaze to you.

“If you wanted me to pose for you, you could’ve just asked.”

for the bestie that sent in this request- thank you for sending to help me clear my writers block! you’re a real one <3 i hope it was more or less what you were hoping for. thank you for requesting 🤍🦋🪴🧚🏼‍♀️

As always— requests are always open! Share your thoughts! Talk to me! Get something off your mind! ✨

[lyman-garfiel]

🤝🤝🤝 this is that Prismo shipper that you reblogged from (@roboticromantic) and god can I just say it’s so nice to see someone feel the same way ✨ I started having to block the scarab tag by itself because so much of the ship art was untagged (which SUCKS bc I’d love to see scarab art and scarab shippers) but god yeah it really just fills out the ENTIRE character tag for both of them doesn’t it? 😔

OH M MY GOD YOU GET IT YOU SO SO SO GET IT !!!!!!!!

Genuinley people treat it like it is cannon and it botheres me so much i had to put a whole disclaimer in my pinned about my disdain of the ship <//33 I also love to see other prismo selfshippers who get my PAIN of my god you're so epic about this my broski we suffer together as we dread season 2 🤝🤝 also i can only imagine how harder it is for you having prismo around for years only for pwish to show up and wreck your blorbo's tag with all the ship art ohh you get it, you are a friend of mine now !!!