how can i start writing more often?
That's going to depend what's stopping you from doing so. I'll tackle some of the common ones and see if that helps you out.
You're working or going to school full time or otherwise have a lot of responsibilities that fill your days
Writing doesn't have to be done in large chunks of time. You can write for ten minutes and still get something onto the page. You can also write by dictating a voice note into your phone and using speech-to-text to transcribe it. When you have a day off or a larger amount of downtime, try to block off some of it for writing or for editing those speech-to-text transcripts into a more polished story.
You don't have any ideas
Seek you writing prompt blogs. Make a post on your tumblr asking for requests. Expand the type of idea you're willing to write - not everything needs to be a 100K multichap, so think of a oneshot idea and write that instead.
Every time you think about posting a fic, you get so anxious you just stop writing
Write something that you're not planning to post. Write something by hand so that you can't post it without making the decision to transcribe it and post it later. Focus on the writing instead of the possible audience reactions to the writing.
You have an idea you love, but writing all of the backstory to get you to that point is so demotivating you can't even start
Make a bulleted list of all of the backstory components that need to be in place before you can get to the part of the story you want to write. Now write the part you're actually interested in. After you write that, check in with that bulleted list and see if any of those parts are more interesting now. If they are, write those too. If they're not, you're done and can move onto the next story. You can post those criteria as your summary or author's note or tags.
You have an idea you love, but all of the research you have to do first is so demotivating you can't even start
Do you actually need to do the research? Can you write the story in a way that hand-waves things (bring in some pseudo-science or a Fantasy Costco or something to get around what you're trying to figure out). Is there someone else who has done this research already? Do you know someone who loves researching that you could get to help you out? Is the research just an excuse for procrastination because the idea isn't fully baked yet?
You spend so much time researching that by the time you're ready to start writing you don't have any time left
Do you enjoy researching more than writing? Is there someone you can partner with to write the story based on your idea and research? Do you tend to research and write in the same block of time? In that case, separate those activities out. Research until you get to a good stopping point and then write until you run out of research and need to learn more.
Every time you start writing, someone interrupts you
If the interruptions come via social media or other online means, mute your notifications while you're writing. Change your status from online to do not disturb. If the interruptions are IRL, have a conversation with your family or roommates and work out an agreement where you can get blocks of time without interruptions or where you can put up a signal that you're writing and can't be disturbed. Get a whiteboard or sticky notes or something so that people can write down what they need from you and you can check it when you're done.
Every time you try to write, you get distracted by a bunch of other things and can't actually get much writing done
If you write on a device that connects to the internet, you can get really distracted by the internet. There are lots of tools out there to block out those kinds of distractions to help you right (example). You can also try writing by hand on paper so that the internet is further away from the task.
Writing is really intimidating. The blank page taunts you.
Start by writing out your idea at the top of the page. It doesn't have to be in-depth, it can just be something like "A and B are stuck in different locations for a long period of time and they discover they're in love with each other while writing letters back and forth." By doing this, the page is no longer blank so you can fool yourself into thinking you've already started writing and just need to continue.
When I sit down to write, I don't know where you start.
If you're in the process of writing a story, try not to end a writing session on the end of a scene. Either write the start of the next scene or stop writing before you hit the end of the current scene. Then the next time you write, you have a place to pick up from and don't need to make a choice of where to go next. If you're starting a new idea, start at the point where it's interesting. You can go back and write the boring part later if you decide you really want or need to.
There are lots more things that stop people from writing, but I'll let people in the notes add more examples. If you're a writer, how do you make time for writing?
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Grace and Arrogance - James Beaufort x Fem!Reader
pairing: james beaufort x fem!reader
synopsis: amidst playful bickering, the dynamic between you and james transforms from turmoil to bliss when james sheds his facade of arrogance to reveal hidden admiration.
word count: 2.1k
warnings/tags: mentions of a car accident, fluff with james beaufort
a/n: hello everyone! it's been a while since my last post because i haven't really had any inspiration and time over the past months but after watching maxton hall last week, i just couldn't help but write! ! i wrote this in like an hour on my notes app so it may seem a bit rushed but that's okay :>
if you’d like to check out my other works, you can check the pinned post in my blog :>
i hope you’ll like this fic! happy reading!
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Being a regular visitor at the Beaufort estate has familiarized you with every corner of the house. Now, you have memorized every room and decoration, immediately spotting whatever is newly added. The Beauforts didn’t mind your presence, with your family being close friends of theirs.
But it was not the Beauforts' son who you were particularly fond of.
You were extremely close with Lydia, your best friend since childhood. Despite both of you coming from wealthy backgrounds, your upbringing was notably different. Your parents owned a chain of hotels and restaurants across Europe, but they insisted on raising you humbly, teaching you the value of hard work and modesty. This upbringing made you see through the arrogance often displayed by James, Lydia's brother.
James, with his confident smirk and air of superiority, was someone you couldn't stand. Your encounters often led to playful bickering, a routine everyone at Maxton Hall was familiar with. But behind your teasing, there was an underlying respect for each other, one neither of you would openly acknowledge.
One sunny afternoon, you found yourself in the Beauforts' expansive garden, your favorite place to unwind with Lydia. She was lounging on a chaise, flipping through a magazine, while you were engrossed in a novel. The peace was soon interrupted by the sound of footsteps.
"Well, well, what do we have here? The ladies of leisure," James's voice drawled, cutting through the tranquility.
You looked up, ready to retort. "And here comes the lord of arrogance. What do you want, James?"
James smirked, leaning against a nearby pillar. "Just enjoying the sunshine. Is that a crime?"
"Only if you're planning to cast a shadow over our peace," you shot back, not missing a beat.
Lydia chuckled from her seat. "You two are impossible. Can't you ever have a conversation without turning it into a fight?"
"It's not my fault your brother is insufferable," you said, closing your book and standing up to face James.
"Insufferable? That's a new one. What else do you think about me, Y/N?" James asked, his eyes twinkling with amusement.
"Do you really want to know?" you challenged, stepping closer.
"Absolutely," he replied, his gaze locking onto yours.
Before you could respond, Lydia interjected. "Okay, enough, both of you. Can't we just have one afternoon without the bickering?"
You glanced at Lydia, then back at James. "Fine. But only because Lydia asked."
James shrugged, a smug smile on his face. "Whatever you say, Y/N."
Despite your frequent clashes, there were moments when you couldn't deny James's charm. Like the time he helped you with a school project, his intelligence and wit shining through in a way that caught you off guard.
You were in the library, struggling with a particularly difficult economics assignment. The sound of approaching footsteps made you groan inwardly. Of course, it had to be him.
"Need help, Y/N?" James asked, looking over your shoulder.
"I can manage, thank you," you replied curtly, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of admitting you were stuck.
He pulled up a chair next to you anyway. "Let me see."
You sighed, sliding the paper towards him. "Fine. But no gloating."
"Wouldn't dream of it," he said with a wink, scanning the problem. "Ah, I see the issue. You're overthinking it. Here, let me show you."
For the next hour, James patiently explained the concepts, his usual arrogance replaced with genuine enthusiasm for the subject. By the end of it, you had to admit he was a good teacher.
"Thanks, James," you said, a reluctant smile tugging at your lips.
"Anytime, Y/N," he replied, his expression softening.
Despite these moments of truce, your dynamic remained largely unchanged. That is, until the day you stopped going to your classes in Maxton Hall without warning. Lydia knew the reason but couldn't divulge it due to your parents' wish for privacy. This secrecy, however, only fueled James's concern and curiosity. Despite your clashes, he had always admired your kindness and humility.
Days turned into weeks, and your absence left a noticeable void. James found himself more worried than he cared to admit. His irritation grew, not just because you were gone, but because Lydia refused to tell him why.
James sat in the library, his usual spot, staring at the empty chair across from him. It felt wrong not having you there to challenge him, to banter with him. The silence was suffocating.
"Where is she, Lydia?" James demanded, cornering his sister in the hallway.
"I can't tell you, James. It's not my place," Lydia replied, her expression firm yet sympathetic.
"You know something, and you're keeping it from me," he accused, frustration evident in his tone.
"Trust me, if I could, I would tell you. But I can't," Lydia insisted, turning away.
James ran a hand through his hair, his frustration palpable. "You don't understand, Lydia. I need to know she's okay."
"She is. That's all I can say," Lydia replied softly before walking away, leaving James standing there, his mind racing with worry.
He spent sleepless nights thinking about you, imagining the worst scenarios. Had something happened to you? Were you in trouble? Each passing day without any news felt like an eternity, and the worry gnawed at him incessantly.
The mystery was finally revealed during a dinner at the Beaufort estate. As you and Lydia's parents chatted, the conversation inadvertently turned to your family. James listened intently as they discussed the car accident that had left your father seriously injured. You had been absent to take over the family business in his stead, juggling the responsibilities of an heir with the pressures of high school.
"It was such a terrible accident," your mother said, her voice tinged with worry. "He was lucky to survive, but the recovery process has been grueling."
James's heart sank as he listened. The image of you, strong and resilient, dealing with such a massive burden alone, tugged at his heartstrings.
"Y/N has been amazing," your father added, his voice filled with pride and concern. "She's stepped up in ways we never imagined, taking on the business and keeping things running smoothly."
Lydia's parents nodded sympathetically. "She truly is remarkable. We can't imagine the pressure she's under."
James felt a pang of guilt and a surge of determination. He admired you even more for handling such immense pressure with grace. The next day, he decided to visit you.
You were in the midst of preparing for a business meeting when James arrived at your house. The sight of him surprised you, and your initial reaction was to push him away.
"James, I don't have time for this," you said, frustration evident in your voice as you shuffled through papers.
"I'm not here to argue," he replied, stepping closer. "I'm here to help."
You looked up, skepticism in your eyes. "Help? How?"
"I know how to run a business. Let me support you," he offered, sincerity in his voice.
You hesitated, the weight of your responsibilities making you wary. But the genuine concern in his eyes made you relent.
"Fine. But don't think this means I like you," you muttered, turning back to your work.
James chuckled. "Wouldn't dream of it."
He stepped forward, his presence steadying you as you felt the weight of everything crashing down. You fought back tears of exhaustion, the stress overwhelming you.
"Y/N, let me take some of this off your shoulders," James said gently, his voice a soothing balm to your frayed nerves.
"I… I don't know if I can trust you," you admitted, your voice trembling. "You've always been so… unserious."
James's expression softened, his eyes filled with understanding. "I get it. I've been a jerk, but I care about you. More than I let on."
You looked into his eyes, seeing the sincerity there. "Why now, James?"
"Because I admire you. Your strength, your kindness. You're handling all of this with such grace, and I want to help you. Please, let me," he pleaded.
Your defenses crumbled, the exhaustion and stress finally taking their toll. "Okay," you whispered, the word carrying the weight of your vulnerability.
James stepped closer, his arms wrapping around you in a comforting embrace. For the first time in weeks, you allowed yourself to lean on someone else, to share the burden.
Over the next few days, James proved to be an invaluable ally. His expertise in business management eased your burden, allowing you to balance school and work more effectively. The more you worked together, the more you saw a different side of him—one that was caring and dependable.
James took on tasks with a surprising efficiency, his usual arrogance replaced with a dedication that impressed you. He handled meetings, reviewed contracts, and even helped streamline operations, all while providing a steady source of support and encouragement.
One evening, after a particularly long day, you both found yourselves sitting in the garden, the stars twinkling above.
"Do you remember the first time we met?" James asked, breaking the comfortable silence.
You laughed softly. "How could I forget? You spilled juice all over my dress."
He chuckled, shaking his head. "I was so nervous. I wanted to make a good impression, and I ended up making a mess."
"I thought you were a spoiled brat," you admitted, smiling at the memory.
"And now?" he asked, his gaze locking onto yours.
"Now, I see someone who cares deeply about his family and friends. Someone who hides his true self behind a facade of arrogance," you said softly.
James's expression turned serious. "And I see someone who is incredibly strong, even when faced with immense challenges. Someone who inspires me to be better."
The air between you seemed to crackle with electricity. Before you could second-guess yourself, you leaned in, pressing your lips to his. The kiss was gentle, tentative at first, but quickly deepened as you both poured all your unspoken feelings into it.
When you finally pulled away, breathless and dazed, you met his gaze and saw the same vulnerability mirrored in his eyes.
"I've liked you for a long time, Y/N," James admitted. "I just didn't know how to tell you."
You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. "I guess I like you too, James. Even if you are insufferable sometimes."
He laughed, pulling you into another kiss. The garden seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in that moment.
The days turned into weeks, and with James's help, you managed to stabilize your family's business. His presence became a constant source of support and comfort, and your feelings for him began to shift.
Returning to Maxton Hall, you and James surprised everyone with your newfound camaraderie. The playful bickering was replaced by a growing closeness that neither of you could ignore.
The fundraiser ball at Maxton Hall was an annual event where everyone dressed in Victorian-era attire. This year, you and James were assigned to fix the lights, a task that allowed for a rare moment of privacy.
"Careful with that, Y/N," James warned as you reached for a particularly tricky bulb.
"I've got it," you insisted, balancing precariously on a ladder.
James steadied the ladder, his hands brushing against yours as he helped you with the light. The proximity made your heart race, a tension building between you that neither could ignore.
As the last bulb clicked into place, you turned to thank him, only to find him closer than expected. His eyes locked onto yours, the air thick with unspoken feelings.
"James…" you began, but he silenced you with a gentle touch to your cheek.
"I admire you, Y/N. More than you'll ever know," he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper.
Before you could respond, he closed the distance, his lips capturing yours in a tender kiss. The world seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in that moment.
When you finally pulled away, breathless and dazed, you met his gaze and saw the same vulnerability mirrored in his eyes.
"Can we try this?" you asked, your voice trembling slightly.
James smiled, his thumb brushing against your cheek. "I'd like that very much."
As the evening wore on, the lights you and James had fixed illuminated the grand hall, casting a warm glow over the attendees. You stood together, hand in hand, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead.
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For future reference: this fandom absolutely DOES prompts!! Some people more than others, but we even have whole blogs dedicated to giving out prompts! ;) (shout-out to @jilymicrofics and @jilychallenge) Prompt lists are great too, of course!
Anyways, a lot of good prompts here but of course it jumped out at me:
"I love you."
"You couldn't have picked a worse time for a confession."
(Tied-up back-to-back Order!Jily go! Or whatever you want to do with it, really, but that's how I pictured it. 😁)
❤
ah this is brilliant information!! thank you!
from this prompt list
It was supposed to be a calm, quick, easy mission.
“Give it to the kids,” Moody had said, waving his hand dismissively as if it wasn’t worth his time to care or follow-up with which ‘kids’ ended up taking on the mission.
That was the only reason James and Lily had ended up doing it together anyway, because Mad-Eye’s universal distaste for romance and relationships and, well, happiness usually keeps the couple separate.
Now, though—Lily’s starting to wonder if maybe the old man had a point, because nothing as elementary as Incarcerous has ever managed to ensnare her when she was on a mission with Mary or Remus or Sirius or anyone other than the idiot currently tied behind her.
“So,” he drawls, “do you think they’ll come back soon or…”
“Shut up, Potter.”
She can feel him shrug casually against her. “I’m just wondering.”
“Do something more useful,” she hisses, struggling against the ropes again.
“I dunno why you’re so upset,” James quips. “This is quality time, Evans. Sure, I usually prefer to be able to actually look at you on our dates, and yeah, I guess the blood stain in that corner over there is a bit of a mood-killer, but, oh, I don’t know. It all has a certain charm to it. Don’t you think it’s all a little sexy?”
“If we ever get out of here,” she says through gritted teeth, “I’m going to kill you.”
The Death Eaters had confiscated both of their wands, but—given James and Lily’s concealed identities—had hesitated to do any more than that. It’s a disturbing advantage, revealing the level of bureaucracy even within their enemy's ranks, that they have to check with their esteemed Dark Lord, or whoever, before proceeding with torture.
So, here Lily and James sit, bound together, their backs pressed against each other in an unidentified room within an unspecified house. The opulence of the marble floors and the imposing darkness of the towering ceilings hinted at its owner's aristocratic (Pureblood) pedigree.
“Should we play a game to pass the time?” James chirps.
“I need to concentrate.”
“Good idea. I love that game!”
“Wh—”
“This is the game of concentration, no repeats or hesitation, I go first, you go second, category is—”
“Jesus Christ, James!” she shouts, shrilly. “How can you sing at a time like this?”
He shifts, his back pressing more firmly into hers, and immediately she knows he's heard what she's been trying so hard to keep concealed. His physical presence succeeds in grounding her, as it always does. “Evans.”
Lily feels awful for snapping at him. None of this is his fault, obviously. He’s been nothing short of wonderful from the beginning. She takes a shaky breath and shuts her eyes. “Yeah?”
“You all right?”
She leans back into him. “No,” she whispers hoarsely, “I don’t think so.”
The ropes shift against her skin as James moves again. She feels his arm bumping along hers and then, out of the corner of her eyes, she sees his hand, moving toward hers. How he’s contorting himself to manage it, she doesn’t know, but she moves her own hand to clasp his without thinking.
He squeezes her hand. “We’re gonna be okay,” he says. “Moody’ll have gotten our Patronus by now. Any minute now—”
“But what if they—”
“It’s not gonna happen,” he says, his voice firm, instilling a sense of confidence in her. “We’ll be out of here before they even find out who we are.”
“I—” Her voice breaks.
“Not gonna happen, Evans. I’ve got your back.” He chuckles a bit pathetically. “Incidentally, right now, I actually do.”
Her head drops, a pitiful snort escaping her at the miserable irony of all this. “Tell me something good,” she murmurs.
“Well, obviously—”
“Something other than your new cat, James.”
“Okay, fine,” he says, a little grumpily. She smiles, clearly imagining the pout on his lips. “How about…oh! My mum is baking a cake for Padfoot’s birthday this weekend. And I don’t know if you’ve had a Euphemia Potter cake before, but—” He pauses for dramatic effect. “You’ll never have something more disgusting in your life.”
“James!”
“No, I’m being so serious, Evans. It’s like…Merlin, it’s like she sweeps the back-streets of London and dumps the contents of her dustbin into a pan with some eggs and just bakes it. We stick a candle in it and sing and fuck, it’s literally so bad.”
“You’re terrible.”
“No, Lily,” he says, seriously. “The cake is terrible. You’ll see.” He hums to himself. “But I see the humorous tragedy of my mum’s cake isn’t going to do it for you, so I’ll move on to another topic. Let’s see, let’s see.”
“I didn’t know it would be so much trouble to think of something good for your girlfriend to—”
“Oh, you’re playing dirty now, Evans. Pulling the girlfriend card, like you don’t know what that does to me, every single time.”
She grins, even though he can’t see her. “What if—”
“Hang on, I’ve got something,” he interrupts her. “Something good.”
“Alright, let’s hear it,” she says, waiting. “I’m on the edge of my seat.”
“Actually, your arse is firmly planted against mine, a fact I have not stopped thinking about since we were thrown in here, but seeing as it’s not an appropriate time to do something about that—”
She bumps the back of her head lightly against his. “Oh my God, Potter, get on with it!”
“I love you.”
Lily freezes, her back going rigid against James’s. “You—” She feels him squeeze her hand again. “You couldn’t have picked a worse time for a confession,” she murmurs numbly.
He doesn’t say anything at first, but before Lily can give a proper response, she feels him shaking against her.
“James?” She shifts to try and get any sort of vantage point to see him. “James, what are—” He’s laughing. Absolutely, hysterically laughing! “Was that a joke?” she demands sharply, trying to withdraw her hand from his. “You’re a terrible person, James Potter! I don’t—”
“No,” he manages, through peals of laughter, trapping her hand back between his. She can feel his head shake back and forth. “No, I was being…completely…serious.”
Jesus, she wishes she could see his face right now. Not that it’s ever aided her in being able to understand this mad man before, but…
“I don’t know why I said it,” he continues, still snorting in laughter. “I mean, I do. Obviously, I…I love you beyond reason, Lily. But—Merlin’s beard, I can’t believe I just—”
“You…love me?” she asks, quietly.
His hand turns over, palm meeting palm, so he can properly intertwine their fingers. “Of course I do,” he says.
“But—”
“I love you.”
She feels a surge of emotion. “I love you, too,” she manages. “So much. A pathetic amount, really. And—”
“I swear to Merlin the second we’re out of here, Evans, I’m going to kiss you so good.”
“So good?” she repeats, giggling at the absurdity of it. He’s ridiculous. She loves him so much.
“Yeah, I’d—” He dissolves into laughter again.
“What now?” she cries.
“It’s just—” He snorts loudly, his head bumping against hers. “Well, see, I’d kiss you now, but I’m…” A loud peal of laughter echoes through the dark room. “I’m a bit…tied up…at the moment.”
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I hate that Lor Zod and General Zod are black in Young Justice. Even though there are a decent amount of black heroes in Young Justice, the amount major notable villains that are POC compared to white villains is outstanding. You have Lady Shiva, who is of Asian descent, the Al Ghuls, who is also Asian and Arabian, there's Black Manta, who is African American, and Vandal Savage, while ethnicity is largely unknown and is said to have been a caveman, ALSO seems to be a POC along with his two daughters, Olympia, who is killed by her own father is black, and Cassandra (there are a LOT of Cassandras in this show) who is brown colored it seems.
And while we do have Rocket, Bumblebee, The Guardian, Static Shock, and Black Lightning as major African American heroes that are focused on, it's just not enough compared to the white heroes that are focused on.
And I guess Artemis is technically half-Vietnamese and yet we see her mostly in a white household, while every time she is with her Vietnamese mother, there's always a sense of shame focused on the first Tigress. I mean in order to feel like I am dealing with a Vietnamese character, I wish they'd do more than just give us her eyes which are almond. Provide some Vietnamese culture instead of giving us a family that is so wracked in shame over its own heritage all because they couldn't live up to the status quo and make ends meet honorably like the white heroes were able to.
I do like Zatana's history...I think she's Italian, not that I would call being Italian being POC. But there was a story about immigrants intertwined there that was nice... Her arc was refreshing in how her students were ethnically diverse and fit into their different conflicts. And yet those diverse characters were just back up to the main star of the arc, Zatana...but I can't complain too much. Only if next season we don't get much of Khalid just like how Virgil was sidestepped as well and Halo too.
Going back to the Zods...I wouldn't have a problem with the Zods being POCs if we saw the House of El being similarly represented, that way it's equal...otherwise, it just seems racist, like they're portraying POCs as the bad guys and I already get that impression with how they continuously demonize Asian representation
They turned Lady Shiva into a far worse parent than she was in cannon when her only sin in the comics was abandoning her daughter and even then it was a sympathetic reason since she was literally coerced into bringing Cassandra into this world so David Cain could use his daughter as a weapon.
Instead of going with that storyline of a white man abusing his Asian daughter which they admittedly already got going on, they have the Asian woman who was raped become the abuser of her own child and become even worse than her husband in the comics by having Cassandra's vocal cords cut out!
And as someone said, she makes Sportsmaster who was an abusive parent to both his daughters look good.
Which is like why? If that was her previous incarnation then okay, that's on the comics and Young Justice was just unintentionally adopting racist elements from the comics because it was already there in the comics and Young Justice is just bringing that on the screen. It doesn't look well on them but it doesn't make them look too bad
But instead, they make the Asian woman, who yes while a villain is a complicated villain, into a far worse than she really is. Shiva was fucking raped for god's sake!
This was literally on Cassandra Cain's wiki. In exchange for her life, she had to agree to give birth to his child and let him raise it. The bastard also killed her sister!
But instead of giving this sad history of Cassandra's that makes you kind of sympathetic to Shiva, Young Justice decides to just make Shiva into Cain, into wanting to turn her own daughter into a weapon.
What infuriates me about this is how Young Justice seems to spin a twisted narrative that spits on Asian ideals such as being filial and loyal towards family, and a part of me wonders if it's to promote the idea of independence that is promoted in Western culture. The idea of children rebelling and becoming their own person, leaving their parents to be their own man. I don't have a problem with that idea. As an American, I kinda prescribe to it.
But as someone who also is of South Asian descent, I dislike when they have a villain like Lore Zod sneer at Orion, who is the son of Darkseid and chooses to be on the side of New Genesis Gods, asking "Where is his loyalty?" in that why does he stand against his own parent?
What exactly are they trying to say?
Maybe I'm making too much out of this...
I guess I just have a lot of feelings about Young Justice. I enjoy the show and it has great storytelling...but there's a part of me that finds it so...off-putting.
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