Cringeposting - Blog Posts

“cringe culture is dead!”

no it’s not. like i totally get saying this when you’re from an alt community or have an unconventional hobby and want to have fun, more power to you, but cringe culture literally never died. in fact, in the past few years, it’s actively been getting kinda worse

i remember back in 2016 at the peak of ‘cringe culture’ that it was still very easy to avoid. cringe was a genre that could be filtered and blocked. you could stop watching leafyishere and keemstar and whatever. you could very easily just see an EPIC SJW CRINGE COMPILATION and scroll past and forget about it. they were popular, sure, but you as an individual could ignore it. you had to actively go to a ‘cringe’ subreddit or scroll through the pits of deviantart to view cringe-related content.

cringe culture doesn’t need to call itself cringe culture because cringe culture has become normal internet culture.

it isn’t a niche anymore. it isn’t something that you can just switch off or block out. it’s in short-form content, in AI content, on social media. mocking people’s appearances and hobbies and interests and mannerisms isn’t a ‘cringe’ thing anymore, it’s just an average day on Instagram. AI content farms regurgitate everything tenfold. the divide between right and left has never been as defined on the internet as it is now.

hi this is my idea for Venom 4 or something.

Eddie Brock (Tom Hardy): hi Venom (Also Tom Hardy): ok Spider-Man (idk who): hi im spider-man and I'm going to fill u with angst and that. and im going to refer u as a suit for now on. Venom (the same Tom Hardy): take me with you :333

Im sorri for any mischaracterization i onli watch the movies and that's it.

IF sony or marvel sees this hire me ;) /j

Speaking of said designs

Two years ago I drew Bonnie and Chica dancing Tango. I thought it would be fun to see Bonnie wearing a dress and stuff.

I think I did improve and I will keep improving

I almost forgot about this one.

Old drawings where I designed a crappy costume for Venom after hearing his suggestion on that beach scene in Venom: Let There Be Carnage.

What was I doing?

Old drawings where I designed a crappy costume for Venom after hearing his suggestion on that beach scene in Venom: Let There Be Carnage.

What was I doing?

I should not have done this

Star Sanses Swap/Blue head canons.

• Swap does tie his bandana as a bow in the back, but only for battle so it stays out of the way.

• Swap definitely serves people tacos and burritos after he saves an Au from the Bad Sanses.

• He probably leaves random pieces of paper with riddles on them around the Star Sanses base to keep Dream and Ink entertained and happy,

• If you turn in the riddle and you get it correct, free taco/burrito of your choosing!

• Probably adopted the little Fanon Blueberry for awhile until he found out that he was a yandere, Swap is still trying to help him with his friendlyness lessons.

• Does get left behind by the Star Sanses every once in awhile, either at base because he was sleeping and Dream didn't want to disturb him or at an Au because Dream thought Ink brought him back to base already and was too emotionally drained to check if his assumptions were true.

• He knows he's considered weaker than the other two, but he doesn't mind since they're literal demi-gods to him, yet can still keep with them since he's the SANSATIONAL SWAP!

• He still loves puns and friendly pranks every once in awhile, but it has to at the right time, like when they're relaxing at home or there's no danger around and today is just a fun/calm day.

• He visits his Papyrus and Au a lot to keep everyone from missing his amazing self too much.

• He usually eats healthy food to stay in shape, tacos and other Mexican foods are treats.

• He usually has the most sense, but each of the Star Sanses have their own turns with their shared braincell (yes, including Ink, he needs to have it every once in awhile).

• Is trying to figure out how to give all the bad sanses friendliyness lessons.

• He isn't innocent, but he's a good person in general (even if he has a huge ego).

1. A Dame Walks Into A Bar

Summary: Lori, a wealthy socialite, steps into Mr. Dog’s bar, unknowingly walking into danger. When an unwanted guest makes her uncomfortable, she orders an Angel Shot, alerting the owner. Mr. Dog ensures her safety, but the situation catches the eye of a dangerous man—Sans. Triggers: Harassment, implied danger, intimidation

Please check disclaimer first!

The bar was dimly lit, bathed in the warm glow of chandeliers that hung like golden crowns from the ceiling. The air smelled of whiskey, polished wood, and the faintest hint of cigar smoke. Dark mahogany shelves lined the back wall, showcasing expensive liquor in crystal decanters, while the bar counter gleamed from constant care. Small round tables with deep red tablecloths dotted the space, accompanied by plush velvet chairs where figures in tailored suits and flapper dresses whispered deals over glasses of bourbon.

Lori stepped inside, the click of her heels barely audible over the soft jazz drifting from the gramophone in the corner. Her blue dress, a silky number with delicate embroidery, hugged her curves modestly but elegantly, swishing with each step. She was a stark contrast to the rowdy gangsters and socialites who filled the space, but she didn’t care. She approached the bar, keeping her expression neutral despite the tension in her shoulders.

Behind the counter, Mr. Dog stood like a living fortress. Towering and broad, the monster’s brown fur caught the low light, and his sharp yellow star-shaped pupils scanned the room with practiced ease. He wore a crisp white dress shirt, sleeves rolled up to reveal strong arms, a black vest neatly buttoned over it. His presence alone commanded respect, and the subtle twitch of his ears told Lori he had already noticed her unease.

She leaned in slightly and, with a steady voice, said, “Angel shot.”

Mr. Dog didn’t react outwardly, but his grip on the counter firmed slightly. That was a code—a silent cry for help. Without hesitation, he nodded, as if simply acknowledging a drink order, while subtly reaching beneath the counter where his modified shotgun rested. The shells wouldn’t kill, but they’d make anyone causing trouble wish they had taken the hint to leave.

The door swung open with a creak, and the already heavy atmosphere in the bar became suffocating. The chatter quieted just a little, enough for those who knew better to start paying attention. A figure stepped in, broad and imposing, his presence a sharp contrast to the luxurious setting. His black suit, crisp and well-tailored, fit him like a second skin, the crimson vest beneath adding a dangerous edge. A cigar rested between his teeth, curling red smoke from his eye socket like a devil’s whisper.

His sharp pupils scanned the room before landing on Lori. A slow, smug grin spread across his skeletal face as he strolled up, resting a heavy arm on the counter beside her like he owned the place. “Heh. So, ya ran off to a bar, huh?” His voice was low, gravelly, laced with condescension. “Didn’t take ya for the type, doll. Then again, guess I shoulda known ya’d come crawlin’ back sooner or later.”

Lori, without looking at him, sipped the water Mr. Dog had placed in front of her. “Not your doll.”

His smirk didn’t waver, but there was a sharpness in his gaze now, a possessive glint. “Yeah? ‘Cause last I checked, I been real generous lettin’ ya play this little game. But sweetheart, let’s not kid ourselves—you wouldn’t last a day without me lookin’ out for ya.” He chuckled, shaking his head. “C’mon, you gonna make me drag ya outta here?”

Before Lori could respond, Mr. Dog, still casually wiping a glass, spoke up. “Don’t talk to me or my friend ever again.”

Sans blinked at him, then let out a sharp, bark-like laugh. “That so? And who exactly do you think you are, mutt?”

Mr. Dog’s grip tightened around the shotgun under the counter. His yellow star-shaped pupils gleamed like warning lights. “I’m the guy who keeps his customers safe. Now, you wanna leave on your own, or do I need to help you take a nap?”

Sans’s grin twitched, his fingers flexing like he was debating how much of a problem he wanted to make this. Finally, he exhaled, a puff of red smoke curling in the air. “Tch. Fine, fine. Ya got guts, I’ll give ya that.” He flicked a glance at Lori, voice dropping to something almost sickly sweet. “We’ll talk later, babe.”

She didn’t reply, only lifting her glass to her lips as he turned and strode toward the exit. The tension in the bar eased slightly, though Mr. Dog kept his grip on his shotgun until the door swung shut behind him.

Only then did he glance at Lori, his ears flicking. “You alright?”

She let out a slow breath before nodding. “Yeah.” She placed a few bills on the counter. “Thanks, Mr. Dog.”

He huffed, setting down the glass he had been wiping. “Anytime.”

A beat of silence passed before he muttered under his breath, “Next time, I’m charging extra for mafia repellent.”