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GUYS THE TIKTOK BAN WENT THROUGHHH
im gonna literally jump (not fr guys i swear)
i CANNOT do this rn
Dragon Ball & Sailor Moon Crossover Idea:
*Note that I do not plan on writing this soon, this is a rough draft idea and a bit of a rant.*
Okay so instead of it being were the Sailor Senshi just meet up with Goku & the Z-fighters, what if the story started at the beginning of the Buu Saga where Gohan is in high school? Usagi, Ami, and Makoto would be students at Orange Star High school (Ami and Makoto would be in different classes while Usagi is in the same class as Gohan. Rei would still attend her all-girl school and Minako is an idol). I think for this crossover to work it would need to be a new take on the Sailor Moon property with a few sprinkles of PGSM to better fit the established world of Dragon Ball. Plus it would be cool and a little funny for the Great Saiyaman to team up with Sailor Moon or Sailor V (I think I might intertwine the story of Codename Sailor V with the Great Saiyaman Saga). And to balance the screentime between villains (that’ll happen later down the line) Babidi can try to control some of the Dark Kingdom to revive Buu. But that's just my idea what do you'll think? Feel free to leave comments!
Guys should I finish this idk 🙁
Does it give off the vibe or nah 😭
My drafts are empty bc I literally don't know how to shut up
Yet another Taylor Swift inspired Coriolanus Snow x fem!reader fic coming over the week.
JOIN THE TAGLIST HERE!!
TELL ME WHY I HAVE OVER A HUNDRED FIC IDEAS IN MY DRAFTS AND NOT ONE COMPLETED FIC YET
Yes, I have over 30 drafts that I release day by day like hostages being released by a criminal with unintelligible demands.
Yes, the drafts are growing faster than I am willing post them.
Yes, this was in my drafts for a week.
I declare this press conference over.
Yes, I have like 20 random posts in my drafts that I regularly read for no reason.
And no, I will not be posting them anytime soon unless Jesus himself rises from the ground and beats me up until I overcome my very little confidence.
Yes, this is from my drafts.
can people drown on land
like in snow i know theres other ways but snow is also water so it would be considered drowning right??? (if they had like an air pocket or something so no suffocate)
like if the snow consumes them like the water does
or like if they breathe too much snow
googles not helping so heres a quick drawing for cavemen
ive had this in my drafts and i still am thinkin bout it so here u go tumblr XD
it’s almost disgusting the way i crave to be babied and cuddled constantly
just a cute girl with an oral fixation who calls you dad in public
i can’t wait to live alone so i can wear panties and thigh high sock all the time :3
when they get turned on over how much emotional control they have over you 🥰
Sometimes, I go to the store at night, just because the streets are empty and there’s a kind of loneliness that feels almost comforting. But sometimes I’ll see girls, laughing, glitter in their hair sparkling as they spill out of pubs, all bright-eyed, all full of life. It hits me hard, that ache in my chest, that longing for something I can’t quite name. I wonder what it’s like, to have a group of people, to drink and laugh and feel part of something.
I worry
I stress
I am a pylon
I am tangled in cables
I am no longer connected to the grid
Energy is lost
It's falls through a sieve
And all I'm left with is dust and static lint
I barely rinse
I Repeat
the same defeat of sinking into my bed
I am animated meat
suspended over my own stupid once avoidable mess.
Okay, so I’ve been wanting to write a a Logan x OC fanfic with the OC as a professor at Charles school and I wrote the first chapter (really short cause its just sort of a bit of background) and I thought I’d post it here just to see how people would receive it!
(Also this is set when she’s about fifteen, the actual first chapter is going to be a major time jump, so through the fic she’ll be about 30)
Warnings: runaway teen (?), sleeping in a diner, she thinks Charles is kinda weird, not proof read lmao, nothing else I don’t think?
———————
She woke up cold. Her lashes flutter against her cheeks, sore with sleep. It was too frigid in the small diner, the heater did little in the winter and they had put her right by the door that let in a breeze every time it swung open; biting her skin. Her own attire wasn’t much help either, she thought.
The too-big sweatshirt hanging off her shoulders wasn’t thick enough to keep her warmer than her own body heat could, and her jeans were still wet from falling into the snow outside of the empty diner. The only warmth she had was from the thick leather boots on her feet that were two sizes too big.
The heavy thrill of hail outside the small diner window was a heavy patter in her ear drums. The bright beaming twenty-four hour sign hummed against the window, the fluorescent light flickering harsh blue and red light.
She pressed her open palm to the side of her cheek, eyes looming over the other patrons. Most of the diner was vacant, the waitresses bide behind the counters and the heavy steam of coffee burned in the air. She felt hunger nestle in the pit of her empty stomach, if she had enough shoved away in her rucksack she could get pancakes, if she had enough energy she wouldn’t need to pay for them at all. But she had a feeling she would.
She pushed against the table, stretching carefully, ignoring the always present ache in her limbs. Her fingers pushed against her scalp, feeling against her boyish cut hair.
It was just getting long enough for the curls to furl beside her ear, but it still bristled against her fingers. It made people stare less the more it grew, and she was thankful. Soon enough she’d attract even less attention.
Maryn could hear the soft clicking of heels, it was the waitress, she could hear the whisper of her thoughts flutter against her skull. Her mind was always hazy after sleeping, so none of the whispers were coherent enough for her to understand. She didn’t look up until she was right beside the table.
“You want anything, sweetheart?” She had a pot of coffee in her hand, and a southern lilt in her voice. “You’ve been here a while, you must be hungry.”
If she had noticed Maryn sleeping only moments ago she didn’t mention it, but her thoughts fluttered with concern.
“Pancakes?” Maryn blinked up at her.
The waitress nodded, her name tag read Hellen. She had blonde straw-like hair and yellow rimmed glasses.
“How about some chocolate chip pancakes, huh? Knock your socks right off.” She smiled, and Maryn nodded, unwilling to deny the indulgence. “I’ll get those right out, sweet pea.”
She walked away, bright red shoes clicking as she did. She was nice.
Maryn sunk back into her seat, one of the waitresses turned on a radio and through the storm the music didn’t sound like it had any words, covered by static, but its gentle tune was nice enough.
She rubs the ache over her tired eyes, she’d have to walk further when the sun finally came up. If her jeans dried before she left the diner maybe she’d make it further than she did today. Just the thought of more walking made her head throb and ache.
Hitching a ride wasn’t a far idea for her, but didn’t like all the questions that came with asking for help. They can’t help it, always the most obvious questions first, Where are your parents? Are you all alone? Shouldn’t you be in school? She was tired of it.
The soft jingle of the bell hanging over the door rang lightly as it swung open. Maryn tugged her sweater closer when the biting breeze crept through the sleeves.
Another soft flutter of whispers filled her head, she ignored them. She didn’t care to hear anyone else's thoughts. But they grew closer, until someone was coming up beside her table again, and then the whispers were gone.
“Hello.” An accented voice greeted. “Mind if I join you?”
She looked up at the man beside her table, her eyes trailing up the silvery metal of the wheelchair he was sitting in before his face.
He was older, weathered and looked at her with a familiar kind of smile while wearing the nicest suit she had ever seen. A deep blue with a matching tie and one of those pieces of fabric people shove into the chest pocket. It made him stand out, looking strange in the rickety diner.
She doesn’t say anything, but he picks up the menu at the other end of the table and she doesn’t stop him.
“I’m Charles Xavier.” He said warmly, he extended a hand, “It is a pleasure to meet you.”
She looked at his hand curiously before reaching out to shake it slowly. His hand is warm.
“Hi.” She said, wearily. He looks at their joined hands when they touch.
“Cold,” He smiles, “I’d imagine this is the warmest place around these parts.”
“For a few miles.” Maryn shrugs, he didn't seem like the worst person to have a conversation with.
“Did you walk yourself here?” She nodded. “The next town isn’t for miles. You must be exhausted.”
She shrugged, again. She felt how she always felt. Cold, tired, achy. His eyes trail over the rucksack tucked into her side.
“Is that all your things?” She nodded, tugging her bag closer.
“What I can carry.” She tells him. He hums.
“It looks heavy. Must have been difficult in this weather.”
“It’s alright.”
“If you say so.” He smiles.
She nods.
Charles, the strange British man, didn’t seem annoyed by her silence, but she was rather perturbed by his. His mind was completely silent, not a single whisper.
Usually she couldn’t keep other people’s thoughts away, only if she really concentrated she could quiet the noise down for a little bit, but it’s like his mind was completely empty.
Her dark fawn-like eyes trail up his head. She usually didn’t have to focus so much, and even now as she did, she heard nothing.
You won’t get anything up here, Maryn.
She jumped in her seat.
“Alright, baby, I got your pancakes and–oh,” Hellen came back with a hot steaming stack of chocolate chip pancakes. She looked between the two, eyeing Charles, “Is everything alright over here?”
“Yes, splendid, could I get some coffee, please? And,” He pauses to look at Maryn, “A milkshake, for my friend.”
There was only one milkshake on the menu, vanilla.
Hellen looks at her first, and then back at him.
“Of course. Coming right up, sugar.” And she clicks away again.
Charles smiled at her, kindly.
“It’s rude to snoop, you know.” He says, though there’s not much sternness in his tone.
“Most people don’t seem to mind.” She said plainly.
Charles dipped his head with a funny smile.
“I’m sure they don’t.”
“How do you know my name?” She asked, picking up her fork and butter knife as she did. She was curious but still starving. She grabbed the syrup at the end of the table, smothering her cakes.
“Because I have been keeping an eye on you for quite some time, Maryn.” He admits, watching her scarf down her pancakes like they’d run away from her. “You are very special.
“Special" isn't the word most people use.” She says out of the edge of her mouth, still chewing.
“We are not most people.” Charles hums.
“Yeah,” she muttered plainly.
“I’ll admit, your…capabilities are more advanced than I’ve seen in others your age.” He observed, “It’s quite impressive.”
Maryn doesn’t say anything to that. She didn’t have anything to say. Charles continues.
“You know, most mutant children I find are often in groups. They find one another, and protect each other.” His fingers drum on the fake carved plastic, “You remain by yourself. Have you not met others?”
She cuts jaggedly into her pancakes.
“I have.” She chews.
“And what happened?”
She thought about not telling him, then she thought he already knew and was just waiting for her to say it. Either way, he waits patiently across from her, waiting for her to say something; same gentle look in his eye.
“There's something inside me.” She admits, dubiously, “It scares people.”
“Does it scare you?” Again, she doesn’t answer.
Charles looked at her for a long time, she almost thought he was going to go away, leave her there, growing frustrated with her insolence. But he doesn’t. Instead, he looks at her with the same familiar smile.
“I have a school.” He says, “It’s not much now, barely a handful of students, even less teachers, but I created it for gifted children. Children like you.”
Maryn stared at him, her fork stabbing a piece of pancake on her plate.
“A school?”
He nods.
“I’d very much like you to attend.” He tells her, eyes looking her over, “Perhaps I can help you.
He seems to mean it. It’s the first time she can’t see into someone’s mind to know if they’re telling the truth or not, but she has a feeling, an unfamiliar feeling, that she can trust him.
She looked down at her plate, “What if you can’t?”
Charles looks at her carefully.
“Then maybe I can help you learn to control it.” Maryn looks up at him. “At the least, you’ll have a warm bed, food. Clothes that fit.”
For the first time since they started talking, she smiles. It’s small, but it’s there.
“Alright, a coffee for you,” They both looked at Hellen as she came back, “And a milkshake for you, Angel.”
“Yes, we’ll have the check please.” Charles says kindly. Then he places his forefinger and his middle finger to his temple and looks Hellen in the eyes,“You will not remember us once we leave.”
Maryn watches the waitress's eyes glaze over from behind her glasses before she smiles again.
“I’ll get that right out for you.”
Maryn looked at Charles.
“Can I do that?”
“We shall see, won’t we?” His lips spread into a thin smile. “Finish your pancakes.”
——————-
Omg I feel so anxious I literally have never done this before 😭 but please let me know what you guys think! If I do decide to post the whole fic it’ll prob be on ao3 just cause I plan to make it pretty long/slow burn
But I hope u guys like it 🙌🙌
[Drafting my OC's future self]
Me: Wow, this bitch goes from curly haired twink to curly haired twunk. Holy shit.
Draft
This one is a draft I have been working on. Include a lot of thoughts and procrastination. Not finished, of course.
For my tulips
She would be there too, just so you know
You. His fiancée.
His cousin's words played again in his mind when his assistant reminded him of a charity ball that required his attendant tonight. Of course you would be at the charity ball, playing your part of a good-mannered, elegant conglomerate's daughter, and keeping the reputation of your family.
He couldn’t help but scoff when the thought of you crossed his mind. And then he wonders, why did he hold grudge against you despite the fact that you guys rarely crossed paths, and that you actually haven't done or said something bad about him? Maybe it's how you always be obedient, never question your parents' or your brother's words. Maybe it's how you effortlessly navigated high society despite your quiet nature (or so he heard). Or maybe it's how you didn't say much but managed to get everyone enamoured by your presence, how you didn't miss the fun while managed to ace your study and even graduated early.
How you're so perfect.
And he hates that you fit so well in the elite society when he can't find himself liking anything related to it and really fit in.
And that-
"Are you going to sit here and brood all day, dear brother?"
His sister's voice broke the silence, disrupting his trail of thoughts.
He sighed, standing up to face her, an annoyed expression pains his face. Although he really loved his sister and could do many things for her, she's too much sometimes.
"Didn't my assistant tell you that I don't want to be bothered?" he said, pinching the bridge of his nose to ease the ache that was threatening to break his head.
"Yes, he did. But I don't care." she made a beeline to his desk and quickly grabbed his phone while trying to drag him toward the door.
"What do you want now?"
"Y/N and her brother will come tonight! And you have to make a good impression. No, perfect impression. And I'm making sure of it" she chirps in excitement.
"Don't you have an appointment with your stylist?" he calmly replied
"Oh. Yeah, I have to go now, but I already picked out your outfit. You have to wear it!"
And with that, his sister hastily made her way out of his office after handing him his phone back. The echo of her telling his assistant where she puts his attire for tonight's ball.
He looked down to his watch and stepped back to his desk, intending to bury himself in piles of documents so that he would no longer think about this.
_
_
You were lying on a cozy spa bed with the fragrant herbal face mask applied on your skin, listening to your childhood friend rambling about her plans for your vacation.
“So you will spend the summer home and then go back to England?” she wondered, looking at her freshly manicured hand.
“That’s the plan. But it depends on how things turn out here” you muttered. Your mind went back to what your brother had previously said.
You would spend your summer here at home to unwind, and to learn more about your fiance. If you still not interested in him, then you could break your engagement, and you were free to go back to England to pursue your academic goals, or wherever you want to go.
“He really told you that? And you agreed?” your friend cocked her eyebrows
“I don’t see any problem with that. Besides,how much feeling I can develop for a person in the matter of a few months? This isn’t movies”
“You don’t know that. Chris is very charismatic” your friend leaned toward you, a teasing grin on her face.
Christopher Bang. Your fiance.
The engagement was made even before your birth with the friendship of your families and promises of stocks and investments. And despite being engaged to each other, you haven’t met many times. The only time you remembered meeting him was at your parents’ anniversary when you guys were introduced to each other, barely holding conversation but exchanging pleasantries.
But oddly enough, you remembered his appearance. His face with a touch of boyishness and youth of one at the ripe age of 20. He was wearing a three piece suit in deep navy blue with matching tie and sapphire cufflinks. His expression distant and cold, made you wonder if he hated you or it was just general annoyance to people.
My name is Christopher
You wondered what he’s like now.
“Looking good?” your friend spoke up, showing you her nails, now all adorned with little bows and gems
“Anyway, the auction tonight has that painting you like. But I guess it’ll be difficult for you to obtain it. But why do you want it anyways?” she said, leaning on the armrest of the divan, seemingly bored
“Birthday present for Hyunjin” you stretched out your arms, stood up from the spa bed
“Come come, or we’ll be late”
The manager came greeting the two of you with the scent of cedarwood. You lifted your hand to your nose as the too pungent scent hit your senses. She offered gifts and compliments you two with a rigid customer service smile, obviously wanting to secure new potential patrons.
Update:
Will soon be posting some of my first work. Let me know your thoughts ♡♡
You'll try to foster a relationship with anyone but yourself.
Tell me how the fuck that works.
“The strongest ghosts are always the most innocent.
In the afterlife, one’s sins pile up to such a crushing weight that it becomes almost impossible to reach through the veil. The fewer one’s sins are, the easier it will be for them to be present in the living world. That is why we hear a child’s light-hearted giggle echo through an empty corridor more often than we hear an old man’s booming voice. That is why we hear a newborn’s cry more often than we hear an old woman’s wail. That is why we always see a poor woman on a rocking chair on some abandoned porch rather than a powerful politician haunting the steps of Parliament.
The strongest ghosts are always the most innocent.”
- I’ve had this in my notes app for about a year now and I wanted to share it, I figured here would be as good a place as any.
58 Drafts and I'm still adding more 😩🤚 Hoping to slowly start finishing and publishing them soon for those of you waiting for your requests 👁👁👍 so be on the lookout and send in requests! I'll literally write for anything lmao
Peter In Gotham
I've been thinking and I have seen quite an influx w/ Peter finding himself in Goth city and struggling™ and I kinda got inspired(who wouldn't tbh) and wanna do one for funsies?
if anyone's interested, I have planned up to 10-ish chapters and it's going somewhere at the very least ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ and I would like to know if anyone's interested in seeing what i've come up w/ so far in better detailing??:3
Edit:it's in progress, might be coming out in a few months, depends on my schedule tbh <3
Ok I just think that Reki should have gotten a name at S and it absolutely should have been Rain and no I will not explain
I will absolutely explain here’s a list
He trashed Adam in the rain
That’s it that’s the list
Haha jk there’s more
Rain can symbolize unhappiness which like duh to anybody who watched the show
Can also symbolize determination tho so I think both are really good ways to describe Reki’s growth through the show
Also just like the way rain and snow are basically the same form of each other would make it cute lol
1st rough sketches/draft and headcanons i have with @shunsinesshine , @mela-vsvs @/monoveera about my yuu Asul Ps. Ill be making/updating her look soon!! (mostly clothes)
Since Asul’s name is almost the same as Azul’s, we thought it’d be really funny to use that to annoy Azul Ashengrotto. Our headcanon is that having nearly identical names causes a lot of confusion, which frustrates Azul Ashengrotto because he never knows whether people are talking about him (Azul) or her (Asul).
Of course, the twins take full advantage of this to mess with Azul Ashengrotto (putting his full name so you don’t get confused, kek). Asul ended up getting close with the twins because she joins in on teasing Azul. I don’t know who my bias (or love interest) is yet since I’m still new, so everything is very much platonic for now.
I absolutely love the idea of a chaotic trio (Asul, Jade, and Floyd) constantly annoying Azul Ashengrotto. Of course, Asul isn’t safe from being bullied by the twins either—especially since she’s short (4’11”). Additional head canon is Asul working at Azuls cafe as an entertainer (singer).
ALSO, ALSO!! Each of our characters arrives by book, so there are five of us in Ramshackle now! (Including Grim.) @shunsinesshine is our dorm warden 💙💙💙, melavsvs is our vice, but when she’s unavailable, Asul steps in as the vice warden. Anyways, thats our brainrot. just pure chaos