Fic - Blog Posts

Man, sometimes I read a fic where their version of Superman is so flat he couldn't even cause a papercut and the favored characters are all "Superman is the type of person who always thinks he's doing the right thing" and "Superman doesn't accept criticism" and "Superman is a bumbling farm boy hick stupid head" and "the Justice League is a bunch of elitist hacks and their club is only to hype themselves up because narcissism".

And I gotta. Like. Okay? That's a take, I guess. That's an opinion. It always takes me out of the story though, because it's presented as a known fact of the world of the fic despite little to no indication of those truths being reflected in the rest of the fic. It's a weird whiplash and it always leaves me almost ravenously curious as to what influenced this perception.

Sometimes it's explained as an unreliable narrator, sometimes an author's note will shrug off responsibility with "someone has to be the asshole lol", and sometimes it seems to be really and truly genuine and that is fascinating to me. I want to know the why's. I want to take them for coffee and listen to their perspectives. I want to understand.

One of my favorite Batman and Superman team up comics has a pre-jl storyline where they don't trust each other just yet. And because they don't trust each other, they both leap to save the life of a criminal being thrown out a window - they can't be sure the other won't just let this awful person die "accidentally". And because they were both distracted by that, an innocent hostage ran into the street in a panic and was struck and killed by a truck.

It was such a needless death. It was so bullshit and pointless. Both Superman and Batman recognized the need for trust, the need to let themselves be known enough, vulnerable enough, to not have this happen again.

And can y'all imagine how both their stories might have changed if future writers, canon and fanfic alike, kept that character growth in mind?

This is extremely niche, but I love a fic that has social media aspects. (The Crime Alley Kid series, with the oc's addiction to Reddit comes to mind) I love the unique way that Twitter fics get to tell us a story in piecemeal stages, by conversation. I love the worlds where the Bats get to be tiktok cryptids, as a treat. I fucking adore when Jason comes back from the dead and updates his fanfics (raven_of_hydecastle has an amazing version of this).

It's a new form of storytelling and that's so rare. It's amazing and so cool and I love it.

Anyway, someone should consider writing one about Jason secretly writing OCxRed Hood mpreg fanfics and cheerfully getting into flame wars with people criticizing him for writing smut about real people.

Sure, it's weird. He doesn't care; he's got a kink and he's fulfilling it in a creative and healthy fashion. He might not even be embarrassed if anyone finds out. "You found my AO3 account, Oracle? And what were you doing at the Devil's Sacrament? So? What are you going to do about it? Tell anybody and the next story is going to be about you getting me pregnant; body hacking could be hot."

I bet he only really had a contingency plan for Damian just as a therapy thing. Like how some people write fanfiction. Everyone else's plans was the equivalent of "meme on them", "join them", or "pretend I'm Batman trying to talk Superman out of mind control (again) (wear chapstick, this could get gay)"

Tim Drake (1998): I don't make contingency plans because I have friends, unlike Batman who is a friendless loser

Tim Drake (2009): My contingency plans have contingency plans

With WFA sister-coding Steph and Cass, I started thinking about how to get some silver linings out of the decision. So, here are some potential plots or story elements that could be fun/saucy/interesting to play with.

1.) Steph comes out as asexual. Between having a baby and dating Tim, Steph realizes that she's been pursuing physical relationships because of social expectations. She's a spunky, outgoing blonde tough girl; people just assume. She just assumed.

This leads to so many jokes. So many.

"Yeah, Tim and I dated and we had a good time, but in the end I turned him off girls and he turned me off entirely"

"I flatlined briefly and it restored me to factory settings"

Idk Steph would have more quips. She'd have all the quips.

2) Cass is secretly the true Wayne Womanizer. She's not here for a long time, she's here for a good time, and as long as everyone understands that she will play the field. The only reason no one knows that she's debauched every willing heiress in Gotham is because she's too good to get caught and no one would believe it.

Cassandra Wayne is a Legend among closeted debutantes and socialites whose parents have "arrangements" made in regards to marriages. She's the muse of so much modern sapphic poetry, the kind that only hints at her identity. She is the favorite friend to every ambassador's interested daughter. Forget the headlines about Brucie Wayne spending the night with a Russian ballet troupe, Cass will tour with them and no one will even guess what's really going on.

Fandom treats her like a sexless child figure or defaults her to Steph's side. I say let her sneak into the manor at 3am with her shoes off, whispering about entering her slut era.

3) If Steph and Cass are not dating each other, they could each be dating a new or underused character and we could have another Bernard-style steal-your-ship. We might be on the cusp of discovering a really fun pairing or character!

4) Cass and Prudence Wood have an assassin-angsty hate-sex relationship. This one's just for me because it makes me giggle. People meme about Tim and Cass looking alike, Pru called Tim hot once, Pru is now a double??? Triple???? Quadruple??? Agent between Ra's and Tim.

There is just something cute about imagining terrifying quiet Cass stalking after the loudmouth Pru's British cussing. No killing! Because Cass is here to ruin your fun and watch you sleep!

Wow, I really like that old Batman storyline where a beloved member of the family is killed and everyone is devastated, only for the guy to come back from the dead and return to Gotham, blaming Batman and Robin for his death.

I'm so glad they cured him of his induced psychosis and he rejoined the family with only the occasional relapse into supervillainy.

What? Red Hood who? No, I'm talking about Alfred Pennyworth.

Imagine if, when Bruce figured out that Jason was alive and probably the Red Hood, he put on his Matches Malone fit and started spreading rumors.

"Hood? Aw, yeah, that's The Outsider's grandson. Yeah, him, he retired ages ago. He was a legend, though, right? Really gave the Bats a poundin'. Hey, Outsider's worried about his grandkid, though; thinks there might be someone else pulling the strings, yeah? Kid went missing for awhile, showed back up with all this money, all this tech. The family's worried. Outsider would pay for information. Gotham's gotta protect her own, right? And no one wants ol' Outsider to come outta retirement..."

Jason would be so??? Confused??? And upset??? That the older goons are starting to mention that he should talk to his grandfather??? That they keep mentioning him with hushed tones and respectful whispers? Alfie's worth it, of course, but why do they think he has anything to do with a vanished villain like Outsider?

I feel like at this point we should have more fics featuring them both. I want to see Canon!Red Robin aged Tim with his boat and his boyfriend and his lower-to-middle class upbringing meet up with Fanon!Baby Tim who is a rich preteen out stalking vigilantes at night and rummaging through the trash because his parents forgot to arrange for groceries for the next month.

Bonus points if Damian immediately likes the Fanon version of Tim better. For funzies.

Cannon! Tim Drake was less “super smart fanboy kid with a camera” and more “internet message board conspiracy theorist with a wall of red string who has undiagnosed adhd and anxiety” and I think we should really be talking about that more

Yeah sure fannon Tim being a cute kid with a camera is whatever but what happened to “I watched a kids parents die and it traumatized me so hard that I hyperfixated on him to cope and now I make conspiracy theories about him and also his family”

If you have written a Batman story that you think is actually legit, go ahead and submit that to DC. They are in the business of selling stories and they've made plenty of crazy little one-shots.

Look at Batman: Reign of Terror, where it's set in 18th century France. Robin is Bruce's little sister, Rochelle (the true title-holder of Most Ignored Robin by the Fandom). They're fighting Herve Deinte.

If that isn't the result of two special interests colliding with someone taking a chance to put it in production, then I didn't know what is.

I believe so many of you are capable of turning your fanfic dreams into legit comics. (Maybe not as blatant in certain cases, but there could be hints and casual asides, a post-it in the background, etc.)

This! Write what you want to read! We are beings of creation, indulge in the ability to create!

the self-indulgent fanfiction will continue until morale improves

Fucking LOVING this energy, yes, thank you, this is a great take on a classic trope!

Jason would be so frustrated. He's kept his secret identity, but at what cost? I can only imagine the ribbing he'd get from his team once they find out, let alone the other Bats.

Now I'm thinking of the next inevitable invasion where all hands are on deck and half the League is wondering why Jason is still dressed as the Red Hood and the other half is wondering if the Bats don't know that that's Jason.

My favorite fic trope is the "JLA meets the batfam because they arrested Jason as he was undercover and now the family is coming to pick him up" one, but imagine. Jason gets arrested by the JLA while undercover, and is brought in for questioning, but before any of the batfam members even notice that he is gone, Green Arrow walks into the interrogation room.

"It's okay, Superman, you can let him go."

"Green Arrow, Red Hood is a wanted criminal on the JLA:s most wanted list-"

"What? No, no he isn't, that's just Jason."

Superman stares. Jason stares too.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me, that's just Jason, my son-in-law. You can let him go."

"...your son-in-law is the Red Hood?"

"No? Jason's not the Red Hood, he is just dressed as the Red Hood. He's in a mercenary group with my son, he does that. It's pretty easy to dress up as someone who doesn't show their face for a job. Jason's no Red Hood, let me tell you that. Or I guess I don't have to tell you that, since you've already arrested him."

Jason's not really sure if he wants to murder Oliver or not.

Superman stares. Oliver raises a brow.

"So? Can I have him back, please, we have a family dinner today and we're already a bit late."

"...sure."

Jason gets let out. Oliver throws an arm around his shoulders as they walk towards the zeta tubes.

"I hate you, Queen."

"You're welcome, kiddo."

JLA does leave Jason alone after that, though, because every time they see him outside of Gotham, they just go "oh that's just Jason dressed up as the Red Hood again, move on" and Jason doesn't know if he should be annoyed or not. It does make his work easier, but at the same time, it somehow feels like an insult.

Wanted to write out something not-so-heavy, so I'm gonna borrow @arandomao3user's freaky Tim and Bernard pair.

Kink and Bondage go hand-in-hand, but there's a constant problem in the TimBern household. And it's all Tim's fault. He's a fucking escape artist. He keeps getting out of the ropes, the cuffs, the zip ties, the soft restraints, the chains, the really fancy bondage knots that took forever to actually get him into, the specialty restraints, the straitjacket from that one undercover op that went really weird...

It was cute at first when he could play-tackle Tim back to the bed (or floor or table or counter or chair or deck) for a different sort of game, but at this point it's become a problem for the both of them.

Because Tim genuinely can't stop escaping, even when he's into being tied up. Bernard, with equal amounts of frustration and affection, calls it Tim's Robin Reflex. He does it by habit, by accident, and while asleep, on one memorable occasion. Tim's always very sorry, of course, and he is trying so hard to be good for Bernard. It's just that they haven't found that sweet spot yet, that mystery thing that can keep Tim relatively helpless and at Bernard's mercy, but won't trigger the not-fun sort of sense memories that come with years of vigilante work.

So, at a loss and desperate for ideas, Bernard calls his bff.

Jason, actively falling asleep after patrol: "You want advice... On tying up Timmers? Like, shibari 'n whatever? Fucking. Didn't need this in my life, Burn Notice."

Bernard, entirely too awake: "C'mon, Jason; you're one of the most creative people I know and I'm out of ideas. You used to fight all the time! And you have major connections, my man, my buddy, my bestie. Don't you have any alien tech or magical stuff that might work?"

Jason, so tired: "I can ask around later, you freaky...I don't know. I never tied Tim up when we were fighting; I shot him in the thigh once and that slowed him down."

Hearing nothing but dial-tone, Jason sets his phone aside and promptly falls asleep

Three minutes later, Jason sits up in a cold sweat and scrambles for his phone to text Bernard.

J: DO NOT SHOOT TIM

J: BERN. FUCKING ANSWER ME.

J: ISTG IF ONE OF YOU FUCKERS IS SHOT WHEN I GET OVER THERE I WILL GET YOUR HORNY ASSES NEUTERED

I just watched a few episodes of Tasting History with my Dad. One of them was about breakfast in Jane Austin's time and all the cultural information surrounding that day and age was super interesting!

So now I'd like everyone to imagine Bernard having a "Cooking from the Books!" Viewtube channel with Jason (potentially still dressed as the Red Hood depending on how silly you are). Bernard will cheerfully be explaining what recipe he's going to make, what ingredients he's going to use and substitute, all that good stuff. Jason/Hood is going to be next to him, vibrating with Special Interest Excitement, ready to slam a pile of research books and looseleaf paper onto the counter so he can back up his historic and bat-level research binge.

Bonus points if this is somehow post Duffle Bag and pre Identity Reveal.

The absolute BEST Harry Potter fanfic I have ever read in my LIFE is "Harry Potter and the Lack of Lamb Sauce".

It has Chef Gordan Ramsey (Hufflepuff) coming to Hogwarts to be Potions Master in Harry's 6th year. It sounds like it should be a silly crack fic but I swear to you on my love of stories that this shit will have you hooked.

If you ever loved the Harry Potter series and felt betrayed by J. K. Rowling's words and actions, please read this fic. It reminded me so much of WHY I found such comfort in Harry Potter. It brought me back to staying up late on school nights and talking with my friends. It brought me back to being young and learning friendship lessons from fictional books. It brought back screaming in rage into a pillow, and tears at 2am, and the deep grief that comes from having loved a person, real or not, so much.

I revisit this fic about once a year. It's intense. It's wonderful. I just felt the need today to scream that adoration into the Tumblr void; maybe it can help somebody else.

I think Tim's Alvin Draper persona is underutilized by fanfic authors when it comes to comedic potential.

And by that I mean I desperately need to inspire a smattering of fics that have Alvin being the Gotham Underworld's Pet Bisexual Disaster.

Everyone knows Alvin. Somehow. He's a familiar figure, been doing freelance work for years. He's always on the fringes of the Big Leagues, but never seems to have the ambition or the brains to go further. Mostly he runs messages for ol' Matches Malone, yeah, but if you've got something unique to offload or are looking to hire for a job, Alvin has an Ex.

Good Gotham, Alvin always seems to be getting into the dumbest romantic trouble. He's like a discount Bruce Wayne, all himbo with connections. He'll show up to pass on a message or to make a drop and with just a nudge Alvin will talk about his Ex who left The Business and became an actress. Or the one who had the worst luck with being mind-controlled. Or the Ex who was dead-but-not-really and hiding from the government.

Goons will find him wandering down lair corridors where he's definitely not supposed to be and they'll gently escort him out while he tells them all about his New Girl/Boyfriend who texted him this address to meet him at! Except he got the numbers mixed up, do you think he still has a chance after accidentally standing them up? He really feels a connection this time, they met while defacing the same LexCo billboard.

Or he'll be in a base to deliver a message and get distracted because he'll recognize an old associate, or a friend of a friend, and he'll stop to chat. He'll even jump in to give someone a hand with a task when he's waiting for a reply! Such a weird kid. It's hard not to like the little shit though.

There are lots of fics about Batman being a bat shifter or being magically turned into a bat. I think there should be more of them. And that they should feature more confused bats swimming in the wet air.

So much of me wants to read a Titans Tower au that fully scrambles the timelines and canon. Like, I want Tim to have successfully cloned Kon and be hiding the baby at the Tower just so I can witness the hilarity of Jason breaking in to find the new Robin having a teen parent meltdown while holding an equally upset infant.

Or maybe there'd be angst. Maybe there'd be something about a kid trying to hide a baby from the Red Hood that would mess him up inside. The way Robin would be desperate to protect his baby from the intruder. Maybe the baby is asleep at the start and Red Hood only hears them fussing and awake when he's on his way out, hands still wet with Tim's blood.

Idk. I have a lot of feeling about Titans Tower and I like to throw more into the mix. It's probably the worst thing Jason's ever done that seems to have stayed canon, since I'm pretty sure him stripping Robin(Damian, age 10) and Batman(Dick, age???) to their undies and masks on live TV got retconned.

Getting our top scientists on this

I was gonna say alphys/undyne/mad mew mew but that only has 1... Rip Sapphic throuple 😔

everyone stop talking WHAT do you MEAN only 1 fic?????????????

This is why I read the reddit comments

i could be a good mother

synopsis: random baby moment!!!

characters: geto, shoko, gojo

a/n: dont ask how fem reader and shoko had a baby its omegaverse ig

main masterlist

GETO

the house is still wrapped in early morning silence, the kind where the birds havent called yet. the kitchen smells like butter and maple syrup, and the only sound is the soft hum of getos voice.

hes at the stove, robe hanging loosely off only shoulder, hair tied back in that bun, messy and unfairly handsome.

and beneath that robe?

a small lump, his baby, tiny, wiggly, with two bare feet poking out.

shes hugging his leg, cheek smooshed against his tricep, thumb in mouth and hugging her stuffed bunny to her belly, eye fluttering.

geto stirs pancake batter with one hand, preparing the pan with the other.

you peek into the kitchen, still in pajamas.

“shes under your robe again..” you mumble sleeply.

“mm.” he doesnt look up. “yeah.”

“why are you cooking with a baby under your robe..”

“she crawled in” he replies, droppjng the butter jn the pan. “i didnt ask questions.”

you raise an eyebrow. “youre not going to take her out?”

“shes fine, shes warm, shes not crying.” he shrugs. “im multitasking.”

a sleepy squeak comes from under his robe, followed by the softest little “dada” as she wiggles a bit.

he glances down, pulls up the robe just slightly. “you good in there, kiddo?” a muffled sigh answers him.

“shes good,” he confirms.

you try to act unimpressed, but your heart is gone. melt. you walk over and wrap your arms around his waist.

“she loves you so much,” you murmur.

“mhm.” he leans down to kiss your temple. “im warm. i feed her. im shaped like a blanket. what not to love?”

the pancake sizzles softly in the pan. your daughter shifts a little under his robe, safe and sound and not planning on moving.

geto just stirs the batter like hes done this a thousand times. like this — baby under robe, you on his hip, quiet morning light— is exactly where he was always meant to be.,

SHOKO

the first rays of sunlight shined in your room though the half opened blinds. you shifted slightly, trying not to disturb the bundle curled against your chest.

your daughter, barely six months, let out a sleeply sugh and snuggled closer

you dont remember falling asleep with her on your chest, or sleeping with a blanket on. but you had a idea of who was responsible.

footsteps padded quietly into the living room, and you smiled before even looking at who it was.

“you were asleep for like 5 years.” shoko said, her voice amused as she makes her way to the couch. she was in one of your sweaters andher shorts with a mug in her hand. “i put her there while i made breakfast for you.”

“little brat, she didnt stop crying at 5am.” (sho)

“dont be mean, she takes after yo.u” (yn)

“i, for the record, have never woken you up at 5am.” (sho)

“right.” (yn)

she rolled her eyes but doesnt argue. she leans over to kiss your cheek, then the top of the babys head,

“wanna switch? breakfast is on the table.” (sho)

“cant believe you cooked.” (yn)

“i ordered them, but i plated them nicely.” (sho)

you giggle, trying not to wake the baby. she stirred, then slowly blinked up at shoko with sleepy eyes.

“morning.” shoko whispered, her voice suddenly higher pitched and sweeter.

she scooped the baby from your arms with esse, cradling her.

the little one grabbed her hoodie, babbling nonsense, staining shokos clothes with spit in the process.

“shes already messy” shoko said.

“shell fit right in then,” you said, stretching your arms as you stood.

there wasnt any chaos this morning. no cursed spirits, mo sorcery politics. just soft footsteps in a quiet home, a baby giggling kn shokos arms, and ihop in the kitchen.

you kiss shokos lips as you passed by. “thanks for letting me sleep in”

“anytime” she murmured. “weve got all the time in the world now.”

GOJO

the sound of splashing water and giggles drifted frlm the bathrlom, drawing satoru like mouth to flame. he already had a camera in his hand, he had grabbed it on instinct the second he heard you two laughing.

he stopped in the doorway, heart squeezing at the adorable sight.

you were in the bathtub, hair in a messy bun, shoulders glistening from the water, and steam coming from the bathwater. and in your lap was his baby girl, her soft hair sticking up in every direction, cheeks round and pink, her tiny hands smacking the water.

“thats just not fair, you guys are sooo cute!” he whispered with a gron.

you glace up “satoru? is that your camera, again?

“uh huh” he said “you think i would miss this? im documenting everything.”

you let out a breathy laugh. “your not taking pictures of me in the bath”

“i absolutely am, you look like an ethereal goddess. this is gonna go in the family album, smile!”

before you could respond, your daughter squealed with a gummy smile, reaching toward him with slippery hands. water sloshed over the sides of the tub.

satoru melted on the spot.

“i mean come on,” he said, lifting the camera. “look at her. look at you. how am i supposed to not take pictures?”

he snapped a picture as you tried (and failed) to hide your face behind the baby. it came out a little blurry, a little crooked, but perfect all the same.

“alright, just one more,” he said softly, crouching down. “smile for daddy!.”

you didnt try to hide this time. you looked at him—hair damp, arm wrapped around your daughter, love written all over your face—and he pressed the shutter. click!

he lowered the camera. “im the luckiest guy in the world.”

you smiled. “we know.”

you daughter babbled something and slapped her hand against the water again, splashing both satoru.

he blinked, water dripping down his cheek. “how rude.”

you giggle. “thats what you get.”

satoru huffed, pulling off his shirt. “fine. guess im joining in.”

he climbed into the tub with the two of you.

the camera was forgotten on the bathmat.

though the picture was added to the family album.

big bathtub for a big sorcerer (gojo)

a pearl

its just that i feel in love with a war.

pairing: yuji itadori x reader

synopsis: a simple straightforward mission, kill sukunas vessel. straightforward for anyone but yn, who ends up falling for the guy she’s supposed to kill. how could this happen to her!

tags: reader is a zenin, fem!reader, readers ct is poison control, assassin reader, angst, reader was sheltered by the zenin clan, first person pov, maybe some pronoun mistakes, probably a sad ending, not proof read, idk what to do about megumis relationship w the zenin clan, probably plot holes cus i have bad memory, every chapter is rushed

main masterlist

intros

01: cool binder goob

02: i hate my big chungus life.

03: water u talking about

04: yns CAKE 🤤☺️☺️

05: look i can add punctuation, too.

06:

07:

08:

09:

10:

taglist (07/50) - @love-me-satoru @cutesysakura @kozemae @linaaeatsfamilies @zayuriluvs @enchantinghonymoon @sa4vvyyt

if i can’t tag you please check your settings

I've been writing a lot to help with my anxiety, some of it's smut and some of its me trying to be better at writing romance. one of the fics that i'm writing in attempt to get better at writing romance, a lot of it is terrible but I wrote something and it's been on my mind.

“I don’t know if I believe in god or a heaven but when I die and if I meet him I will thank him for everyday I’ll spent loving you” 

there's just something about it. Like if someone ever said this to me I would sob. like full on.

And the place within the fic in which it is said would kill me. It's a Spencer Reid x OC, their married and on a case. They just got back from the police station and OC had ran a bath while Spencer got chinese food to enjoy. They got in the bath together and was just talking, Spencer was staring at OC as she talked with the most loving eyes. She paused and asked what was wrong and he just dropped that.

I just think that it's the most romantic thing I've written to date and if you'd like me to post it lmk cause I will, it won't be very good but it will be something with a little bit of smut but mostly romantic shit.

I posted this once before, on a side blog, but I'm actually too proud of my writing skills to not put this out into the world somehow again.

I wrote a fic/story, in two seperate parts with a timeskip between, featuring Khada Jhin from LoL with an OC of mine, Ulysses.

Part one is here.

And part two is here.

I hope (if you decide to read) you enjoy it. I did put a lot of effort in, and even now reading it myself brings me joy. I hope it can for you, too.

watching a tutorial on how to ride a bike just to write this fic on god the brainrot is real

Third chapter is out!!!

we also now have an outline! Yippee!!

Chapters: 2/? Fandom: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death Relationships: Bow/Glimmer (She-Ra), Adora/Catra (She-Ra), Minor or Background Relationship(s), Entrapta/Hordak (She-Ra), Perfuma/Scorpia (She-Ra), Mermista/Sea Hawk (She-Ra), Adora & Bow & Catra & Glimmer (She-Ra), Adora & Bow & Catra (She-Ra), Adora & Bow & Entrapta (She-Ra), Adora & Bow & Entrapta & Catra (She-Ra), Kyle/Lonnie/Rogelio (She-Ra) Characters: Glimmer (She-Ra), Horde Prime (She-Ra), Hordak (She-Ra), Bow (She-Ra), Shadow Weaver | Light Spinner (She-Ra), Scorpia (She-Ra), Sea Hawk (She-Ra), Mermista (She-Ra), Perfuma (She-Ra), Catra (She-Ra), Adora (She-Ra), Entrapta (She-Ra), Angella (She-Ra), Emily (She-Ra), Micah (She-Ra) Additional Tags: Beast Island (She-Ra), Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Glimmer has trauma, Glimmer Needs a Hug (She-Ra), Feral Glimmer, Sea Hawk by beloved child, Best Friend Squad (She-Ra), Horde Prime Being a Jerk (She-Ra), Alternate Universe - Hordak won, Everyone need therapy, Everyone Needs A Hug, Everyone Has Issues, most people are gay, Everyone is Dead, Or at least a good 60 percent is., Glimmer-centric (She-Ra), Bow/Glimmer-centric (She-Ra), Bisexual Glimmer (She-Ra), Bisexual Bow (She-Ra) Summary:

The death of Queen Angelia and the disappearance of Princess Glimmer has the rebellion in shambles. But one thing was well known.

Hordak won.

But secrets can fester and burn if you attempt to hide them. Eventually they will escape. Darkness is growing, and the planet is becoming unstable. Now its up to a Force Captain, her girlfriend, their best friend, and a ragtag group to band together alongside an enemy to fight back. (And along the chances of coincidences can give them a fight they won’t forget.)

Chapters: 2/? Fandom: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death Relationships: Bow/Glimmer (She-Ra), Adora/Catra (She-Ra), Minor or Background Relationship(s), Entrapta/Hordak (She-Ra), Perfuma/Scorpia (She-Ra), Mermista/Sea Hawk (She-Ra), Adora & Bow & Catra & Glimmer (She-Ra), Adora & Bow & Catra (She-Ra), Adora & Bow & Entrapta (She-Ra), Adora & Bow & Entrapta & Catra (She-Ra), Kyle/Lonnie/Rogelio (She-Ra) Characters: Glimmer (She-Ra), Horde Prime (She-Ra), Hordak (She-Ra), Bow (She-Ra), Shadow Weaver | Light Spinner (She-Ra), Scorpia (She-Ra), Sea Hawk (She-Ra), Mermista (She-Ra), Perfuma (She-Ra), Catra (She-Ra), Adora (She-Ra), Entrapta (She-Ra), Angella (She-Ra), Emily (She-Ra), Micah (She-Ra) Additional Tags: Beast Island (She-Ra), Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Glimmer has trauma, Glimmer Needs a Hug (She-Ra), Feral Glimmer, Sea Hawk by beloved child, Best Friend Squad (She-Ra), Horde Prime Being a Jerk (She-Ra), Alternate Universe - Hordak won, Everyone need therapy, Everyone Needs A Hug, Everyone Has Issues, most people are gay, Everyone is Dead, Or at least a good 60 percent is., Glimmer-centric (She-Ra), Bow/Glimmer-centric (She-Ra), Bisexual Glimmer (She-Ra), Bisexual Bow (She-Ra) Summary:

The death of Queen Angelia and the disappearance of Princess Glimmer has the rebellion in shambles. But one thing was well known.

Hordak won.

But secrets can fester and burn if you attempt to hide them. Eventually they will escape. Darkness is growing, and the planet is becoming unstable. Now its up to a Force Captain, her girlfriend, their best friend, and a ragtag group to band together alongside an enemy to fight back. (And along the chances of coincidences can give them a fight they won’t forget.)

Fic idea(cause i just watched the mirror ds9 episodes): Wangxian (and others) accidentally activate a mysterious artifact? Array? Whatever you want, and end up in an alt dimension where roles are flipped.

Here is how it plays in my head-

-The Wens won the war in this universe.

-Wangxian are in charge of one of the major outposts with Wwx in charge and Lwj as his loyal subordinate (who is in charge of the posts military)

-Characters such as wq and wn and Wen Yuan would also be alive and evil because.. yk edgy verse, (also maybe jyl is also evil just cause.)

-Nmj and Lxc are head of the resistance, Lxc absolutely hates lwj for betraying him and killing their uncle.

*The fic would mostly consist of the og!characters getting absolute whiplash at their opposites personality, and helping with the resistance while they're there basically just what happens in the actual st!mirror episodes lol!

On a few occurences in the book, it gets mentionned that Aziraphale has manicured hands, and I’ve been fixating on it ever since. I wrote this small fic focusing on this very detail, hope you guys enjoy !

———————————————————————————————————–

Aziraphale, as it was, was not exactly into fashion. However, he did like the idea of expressing one’s personnality through what they were wearing. But, unlike Crowley, he couldn’t bring himself to just change radically every decade. It wasn’t very Aziraphale. The change. Not when it was too drastic, at least. The idea came to him when the first nail salons blossomed in London.

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Are we ever going to know what the present is?!!!

Ok but I have so many ideas for the Ineffable Husbands’ wedding/honeymoon

So the wedding itself is on the small side. They don’t really have friends in heaven and hell to invite, and their closest friends, outside one another, were humans and passed. They also didn’t want to hold back on the literal magic of the evening

It’s mainly the Them, Anathema, Newt, and a few other random humans that are of the magical variety and had made friends with the angel and demon over the years

Agnes sends a non-denomination priest, of course, as her wedding gift. He’s been waiting for this day his whole life, and he’s not going to spill. Agnes is laughing from beyond the grave

It’s an outdoor wedding, where the weather is ‘miraculously’ perfect as they do their wedding thing.

Crowley did NOT cry

Also Crowley TOTALLY didn’t put a few of his ‘dead spotted’ plants in empty seats because he totally killed them

Afterward, they end up at a small theater where the reception is, where the music is an odd mix of modern, gavotte, and Queen.

Some random woman shows up during this, but everyone thinks she’s just one of Crowley/Aziraphale’s random human friends. She brought a gift and ‘couldn’t say long because of work.’ Only when they get all the wedding pictures (a miracled camera was doing the work) did they see her and wonder who she was

Crowley and Aziraphale do their first dance to “Somebody to Love” by Queen ofc

They spend a whole year honeymooning around the globe and spend a month driving through the cosmos (Crowley brought the Bentley, and Aziraphale brought all the snacks that they had collected from their world travels).

When they get back they finally go through pictures and presents… and that’s when they see the gift from the mysterious woman.

And things get a whole lot more interesting

like a prayer for which no words exist

[Read here on AO3]

There are places [1] Crowley likes to go when it all gets to be a little much, like a snake seeking a hole for refuge from a storm. That Aziraphale is the storm is surprising, or maybe not surprising at all. These places are holy - lowercase h - in that they are undisturbed, protected, and treasured. A reprieve. An indrawn breath before drowning. They are places Crowley goes that Aziraphale does not visit. That’s not to say that the angel doesn’t know where they are, simply that he does not go where Crowley does not ask for him.

[1] A rooftop garden in New York City. A cozy nook inside St. Paul’s. A patch of red dirt outside Tuscon, Arizona. An old iron bench just outside Kensington Gardens. The bosom of Eden.The edge of the World. Others, dozens maybe, that Crowley knows by feel and not name.

He’s in New York two days after the Apocolypse-That-Wasn’t, high up in a humid class cage full of shivering plants that know both fear and reverence. The Orchids have become fussy in his absence refusing to stand straight out of pure defiance. The English Ivy, the oldest, grows thick and lovely in creeping vines along the ceiling and walls. It almost seems to sigh at Crowley as he brandishes a pair of shears menacingly at the disobedient Orchids.

“Not you as well,” Crowley sneers, shaking the shears at the wall, “I won’t hear it.”

In the corner a Snake Plant shakes almost fondly. Crowley hisses, terrible yellow eyes drawn into slits, and it stops moving, its tall leaves stretching skyward as if in surrender. Crowley clicks his tongue and goes back to fussing with the Orchids.

“Don’t know why I even bother. I should just bin the lot of you.”

He does not. Crowley has known these plants for a long time. He takes a seat on the floor amongst empty pots and potting soil, dirt on his hands and smudged along a sharp cheekbone because he allows it to be. There’s something satisfying about the mess. He wonders, vaguely and quite without meaning to, if that is how She feels about Her Creation. Crowley snarls and kicks out at the leg of a table. It wobbles, the pots atop it shuddering with the force, before going still.

An impossible Honeysuckle bush in the opposite corner blooms for him, sickly sweet in her smell. The orchids finally stand upright, maybe sensing the shift in their Master’s mood or maybe just tired of being contrary. Crowley is no longer looking at them, however. His eyes have drifted up, through the English Ivy curling sweetly along the ceiling, where gray skies hang fat and heavy in the sky. The rain starts first as a light pat and, as Crowley watches, works its way to a torrent. Between this and the overwhelming smell of sweet Earth, Crowley can almost fall asleep.

It’s tempting, and Crowley does love temptations. A hundred year nap after The-End-That-Almost-Was feels well deserved, but Aziraphale gets dreadfully worried if Crowley is gone for too long. He’s startled by a creeping vine tangling around his ankle. He shakes his leg. “Off with you, you annoying little bugger.”

The vine squeezes once before letting go and all at once Crowley misses Aziraphale so dearly it makes his stomach ache. In a wild fit of temper he reaches for an empty pot to throw and smashes it against the wall.

smash

Then another-

smash

And another-

smash smash smash

Until he is left empty and the wall of Ivy is bruised.

Crowley moves then, shaking, standing to shove the table aside with less care than it deserves, cutting his feet open upon broken terra cotta. He rests a hand, gently now, on the Ivy and pulls away green fingers like he’d made it bleed. He puts his hand to the wall again, burying his hand amongst the leaves and pushes . “Dreadfully sorry old chap.” Crowley says and feels the Ivy pulsate around his fingers. [2]

[2] Long ago Aziraphale had given Crowley a little cutting of Ivy from the side of his bookshoppe. “Perhaps you can take up gardening,” the angel said wryly. The Ivy had pulsed in Crowley’s hand then as well, like it was trying to hold him.

Crowley untangles his fingers from the Ivy and it shivers once before stilling. He moves the table back into place and waves a hand dismissively at the floor, clearing the pots. The storm outside rages on and he paces, leaving bloody footprints along the concrete. The garden suddenly feels stifling and Crowley leaves without a word, letting the door clap closed behind him.

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Middle-Aged Man (But Not a Dad (Probably))

Heyooooo, back at it again with a super rough draft for a fic!

inspired by @dballzposting but especially THIS post!

Basic plot summary is Trunks accidentally imprinted on Yamcha like a baby bird but is too emotionally stunted from growing up with the least familial family in all of classic anime to realize that he's being weird as hell about it.

To nobody's surprise, it's a character study! Woohoo!

And before we begin, I wrote almost all of this while dead tired, so it's probably even rougher than my usual rough drafts, but good god I wanted to write this sooooo bad.

Obsession ran on both sides of his family. This was an issue for Trunks, as he'd really fucking rather be thinking about quite literally anything else. But here he was, at the get-together-slash-party-slash-ritual-to-appease-a-big-purple-cat-with-food-so-we-don't-get-blown-up, staring at his mom's ex from the other side of the dessert table.

And praying said ex wouldn't look up from the eclairs he'd never be able to afford otherwise and see Trunks' stupid, stupid eyes staring at him.

But he did.

Fuck.

"Hey, Champ! How've ya been, Buddy?" Yamcha said, in his stupid fucking aging dudebro voice that filled Trunks with an overwhelming sensation of warmth and comfort. He hated it. Yamcha smiled at him the way, Trunks thought, a dad smiles at his somewhat estranged son.

It was probably a kinder smile than his real dad gave when he hugged him for the first time. Not that Trunks would know. Couldn't really see Vegeta's face, too busy experiencing every emotion he could name and also being shoved against Vegeta's inhuman, statuesque form.

It fucking felt like being shoved face-first into a statue, too.

Not like Yamcha probably felt, with his all-too-human physique. There was a softness that covered his features, even though he was still as tough and muscular as ever.

He kinda reminded Trunks of the big blue guy from Monsters Inc. But like, less serious. And very slightly less hairy.

Trunks had been staring too long, but apparently Yamcha was willing to write off the icy glare as a genetic thing and not an actual threat, because he approached the teen with no hint of trepidation.

He stood in front of Trunks and hucked a thumb at the spread of confections behind him. "Yo, you tried the weird cream cake thing? The one covered in chocolate? No idea what it is, but it is good!"

Trunks tried desperately to claw himself out of this conversation with "It's called an eclair cake." He wasn't sure whether or not he had meant to sound that gruff. Either way he sounded too much like his dad, and it pissed him off more.

"Yo, what? They can make eclairs into cake? That's crazy!" Yamcha took pause and then nearly busted his gut, laughing a bit too loud like guys that age tend to do. "But I guess when you're rich, you can pay people to cook up just about anything!"

There! An opening! Trunks knew how to win this conversation and then make his getaway!

"Actually, Yamcha, I think it's just graham crackers, pudding, and chocolate. Pretty simple recipe. I can ask the cooks to give it to you."

Yamcha blinked. "R-Really? That's it?" He sighed. "Well, as much as I'd love to eat cake all day, I really shouldn't." He slapped his gut, which jiggled slightly. "I'm at that age where I've gotta start watching what I eat or I won't be in any shape to show off to the ladies, haha!"

Trunks immediately threw his gaze to his shoes. He fucking lost that interaction, and now he'd have to talk to Yamcha for however long the older man could stand him. Fuck. Well, Trunks knew how conversations worked. He'd seen the guys at Kame House get into it sometimes, and since Trunks was no longer a child, he figured he should talk like that. The ball was in his court.

"Ladies, huh? What... sort of ladies are you into?"

Fuckin' killed it.

~~~

Now it was Yamcha's turn to be cornered. Was it okay to be talking about that kind of stuff with a kid? With someone else's kid? With the kid of somebody he dated?

But he couldn't just say that! Trunks was at the age where he was starting to go after the ladies himself, and Yamcha didn't want to discourage that! He had to find a middle ground, hopefully there was an avenue in this conversation that wouldn't lead to either of Trunks' parents hitting his head clean off his shoulders.

"Um. Your-" NONONONO CAN'T MENTION BULMA. "I m-mean, I like women who..." and how is he supposed to word this? Obviously he's not gonna say 'pretty women' because that would sound so damn shallow, coming from him. "I like. When girls. Can stand on their own... but enjoy having someone around to make their lives easier? I guess?"

He ran his hands through the hair on the back of his head. "To be honest, kid, I'm not really sure anymore! The more I think about it, the more I realize that sometimes people you think should work don't, but the real crazy shi- the real crazy stuff ends up better." Yamcha laughed the kind of shitty laugh you let out when you're nervous and stalling for time. "What about you, Trunks? You a ladies' man? Got a preference?"

~~~

Well, Trunks had been expecting an answer like 'I like redheads' or 'I'm a boob guy' so he was a little unsure of his next move, but he had to think of something to say!

"Um idk there's this one YouTuber I like." Trunks crossed his arms. "So you like women like my mom, right? It kind of sucks that she ended up with my dad."

Yamcha couldn't move. He wasn't sure he was breathing, either. "H-Huh?"

"Yeah 'cuz you probably woulda been a way better husband. All my dad does is train all day and then sit at the table and stuff his stupid face." Trunks put his fist on his hip. "You like watching movies and being nice and shit. I dunno."

~~~

Yamcha was desperately hoping Vegeta wasn't going to manifest behind him and reduce him to ashes. The things Trunks was saying were weird, sure, but the whole family had always been blunt. Trunks probably didn't mean anything by it. Not that that would stop either of his parents from hunting Yamcha down if they heard.

And Yamcha wasn't stupid! He had issues with his own parents, way back when. It's what eventually led him to become a bandit out in the middle of the desert for Chrissake! But he had just wanted to be a dude Trunks could come talk to if he was having the sort of human troubles an ex-evil alien dad couldn't help him solve, and apparently he had been too approachable. Or Vegeta really did just suck that bad.

Either way, oops.

"Hey kid, l-listen! You can't just say things like that!" Yamcha sighed deeply, trying to compose himself. He was still looking around like a raccoon that could hear hound dogs braying, but at least he stopped stuttering.

And then he saw Trunks' face harden even further, scowling angrily. The tykebomb looked like he was barely resisting shouting his next statement, and Yamcha was very glad for that.

~~~

"I'm not a fucking kid! Goddamnit, I'm just trying to have a normal fucking conversation, why are you being so fucking weird about this?" Trunks would have been a truly intimidating sight to behold at this point if he wasn't three-foot-five with lavender hair. "And I was gonna apologize for suckerpunching you that one time when you stayed over, but you can fucking forget it! I'm glad I punched you!"

~~~

The older man knew he had to take responsibility here, because apparently he was right and neither of the kid's parents bothered to teach him the difference in how you're supposed to talk to people outside your own home.

...Thinking on it, neither Bulma nor Vegeta had ever deferred to authority in their lives. Vegeta had a habit of trying to kill anybody stationed above him, and Bulma either screamed until listened to or flashed her tits at someone until she got her way.

Fuck him, maybe he would have made a better parent! Too late now, though.

"No, Trunks, that's not what I meant," he reassured the stunted youth. "I want you to know you can talk to me about stuff, alright? But maybe- maybe not out where your parents can hear? The earth dragon balls can't bring me back again, y'know?"

Trunks looked back up, waiting to hear the rest of the statement.

"And I mean, actually you probably shouldn't say that sort of stuff, because it makes people uncomfortable, but-" here he took the chance of fucking it all up even worse and ruffled Trunks' hair. Trunks didn't even flinch and Yamcha didn't know what that meant. "We're already friends, right? And friends can totally say that sort of stuff. In private."

Trunks met him dead in the eye, unblinking and unemoting. "Okay."

Yamcha chuckled unconvincingly. It fooled Trunks, though. "So, were you actually gonna apologize for that gut punch, or...?"

"No."

"So, what? You were just gonna feel like shit about it your entire life? Until you died?"

"Yeah."

"Haha, okay then! Did... you want a slice of this, um, eclair cake? There's not a lot left!"

"Sure. Can I call you 'Uncle?'"

Yamcha tensed up just slightly, before letting it drain out of him. "Not where anybody who might tell your parents can hear, okay?"

"Deal."

Power Outage #92 Kept in the Dark and Fed...

It's a quote from the fanfiction on Ao3 'Harry Potter and the Problem with Potions' By Wyste, specifically chapter 62. It's very good, please check it out!!

Original Sketch Below!: