#(that I will never write)

[marshmallowwitharubberband]

Ok but what if Dr. Frankenstein was a woman? Would she have so callously rejected her own creation? Would maternal instinct have taken over and she'd have protected the monster at all costs? Or would this have taken a booktok turn, y'know? If you can't find the perfect man, just make it yourself.

Gosh, now I NEED a lighthearted Frankenstein AU where a very lonely scientist girlie creates a guy who won't reject her or accuse her of witchcraft just because she is an intelligent woman. So she creates the perfect Wattpad boyfriend. Made of corpses, ofc.

Bonus points if it took this long to finish her creation because she just couldn't find the perfect schlong to put in it.

[casa-delle-galline]

Fanfic Idea: Season 2 Izzy going back in time and meeting his Season 1 self. Chaos ensues.

[skyprowler]

Haleth/Caranthir but it starts out with Caranthir thinking he is so clever, he can circumvent the whole silly banished to the void thing by choosing to “go wherever humans go when they die - can’t be so bad, after all they do it all the time.” He just needs to marry a human. Then he grows feels.

(Only issue is, that the official first time an elf chose a mortal fate was Luthien ca. 200 later ToT. So, if one wanted to stay in chronology Caranthir would not actually know of this... but then I am sure there is a way around that ^^’‘?)

[tanjir0se]

Disclaimer these are just a small sampling of some possible writer traits I’ve noticed either in myself or in fics I read. Also consider a rb for sample size !

[inkskinned]

this is just my opinion but i think any good media needs obsession behind it. it needs passion, the kind of passion that's no longer "gentle scented candle" and is now "oh shit the house caught on fire". it needs a creator that's biting the floorboards and gnawing the story off their skin. creators are supposed to be wild animals. they are supposed to want to tell a story with the ferocity of eating a good stone fruit while standing over the sink. the same protective, strange instinct as being 7 and making mud potions in pink teacups: you gotta get weird with it.

good media needs unhinged, googling-at-midnight kind of energy. it needs "what kind of seams are invented on this planet" energy and "im just gonna trust the audience to roll with me about this" energy. it needs one person (at least) screaming into the void with so much drive and energy that it forces the story to be real.

sometimes people are baffled when fanfic has some stunning jaw-dropping tattoo-it-on-you lines. and i'm like - well, i don't go here, but that makes sense to me. of fucking course people who have this amount of passion are going to create something good. they moved from a place of genuine love and enjoyment.

so yeah, duh! saturday cartoons have banger lines. random street art is sometimes the most precious heart-wrenching shit you've ever seen. someone singing on tiktok ends up creating your next favorite song. youtubers are giving us 5 hours of carefully researched content. all of this is the impossible equation to latestage capitalism. like, you can't force something to be good. AI cannot make it good. no amount of focus-group testing or market research. what makes a story worth listening to is that someone cares so much about telling it - through dance, art, music, whatever it takes - that they are just a little unhinged about it.

one time my friend told me he stayed up all night researching how many ways there are to peel an orange. he wrote me a poem that made me cry on public transportation. the love came through it like pith, you know? the words all came apart in my hands. it tasted like breakfast.

[birdy-babe]

Blitzøs entire life spent being unwanted. So he adapted, and learned how to be something needed, something to be used.

Which is why I think he firmly believes he is being used by Stolas. He simply cannot fathom a different reality, one in which he is wanted for once in his life.

[dcxdpdabbles]

Danny: I was told to report to you

Alfred: Who told you that?

Danny: Didn't get his name, but it was a man with black hair, blue eyes, tall and sad?

Alfred: That's could be so many in this manor. Can you be more specific?

Danny: um, he was pretending to be stupid at last night gala?

Alfred: More specific

Danny: He yelled "Eat the rich" before nose diving into the glass tower.

Alfred: That's was Master Jason. Did he tell you why you needed to report to me?

Danny: He told me to give this to you when I found you *hands over folded paper*

Alfred reading: Dear Alfred, here is a boy who agreed to work part-time as a cook for the mannor while you recover from your broken arm and broken legs . Let me know if he becomes a problem. I'll kill him for you. Heart Jason

Danny: ....He was joking about the killing part right?

Alfred: No, he put a heart. He is rather serious.

Danny strain nervous smile: Oh

Alfred: Not that it matters. If you ARE a problem, I will put a bullet between your eyes before you can beg. Working legs or not. Now then, how about I show you the kitchen, yeah?

Danny: .....the pay is what again?

Alfred: Five hundred for each meal you prepare and an hourly salary of twenty-nine dollars for how long it takes you to cook.

Danny: Aight, I'm desperate enough. Lead the way sir.

Alfred studying him: You may survive the Waynes yet.

Danny: Wait. What does that mean?

Alfred: This way *rolling away in wheel chair*

Danny: SIR!? WHAT DOES THAT MEAN?

[corkinavoid]

Tim, internally: I need to make sure my family doesn't start the shovel talk the moment we appear, I can do this, I just need to introduce him the right way

Tim, walking into the dining room, hand in hand with Danny: Bad news, Damian's grandfather stole my spleen four years ago. Good news, my boyfriend of six months returned it to me yesterday and even installed it back!

Danny, the picture perfect image of innocence: Hi!

The Batfam, who knew nothing about the missing spleen or the mere existence of a boyfriend in Tim's life: wh-

[marshmallowwitharubberband]

Weird fanfic idea that came to me at 3a.m.:

So the Kpop industry is a kingdom in the omegaverse, currently ruled by Namjoon and his pack, as Namjoon is apparently the strongest, most powerful alpha, there hasn't been one on his level in decades. He's the alpha among alphas, top of the top. And he rules with a kind but firm hand.

Everything is peaceful until some rumors start spreading among the population. There's this kid, a late bloomer, *way* late bloomer. As in, he should have presented like 6 years ago, but hasn't. Society doesn't quite know what to make of him so they sorta shun him. No pack would take him.

So, he decides to form his own pack where secondary gender or status won't matter. He'll take in the weirdos, the outcasts, the...strays.

This new pack is making ripples, they don't conform to rules, they're loud and strange and people aren't sure how to act around them. Worst of all: the leader has finally presented as a very powerful alpha. Maybe as strong as the current king.

Panicked and curious whispers start spreading like wildfire, that the one who could actually contest Namjoon's position has finally appeared, that maybe this Chan kid and his strays will attempt to topple the hierarchy. This piques Namjoon's curiosity and he invites Chan for a face-to-face chat.

The population is going mad with anticipation, expecting a battle that will become legend. The day arrives and both alphas disappear into the palace for an entire day. When they come out, they have an arm around each other's shoulders. They're...laughing?

"Same time next week?" says Namjoon.

"No, yeah, sure!" replies Chan. "I'll bring the beer this time!"

See, what happened is, Namjoon took a look at Chan and saw a kindred soul. There was finally someone who *understood* the weight of their responsibility, when you wield that much power. Someone who knew what it felt like to claw your way up against the current. More importantly, someone who could sympathize with being a single Dad trying to wrangle a bunch of rambunctious, hyperactive omegas with separation anxiety and no sense of self-preservation. He recognized in Chan's eyes his same worries as a pack leader and thought "We should be friends"

So now, every week they get together to crack a few cold beers and just enjoy the peace and quiet. Maybe talk about music or playfully complain about their members. Grill a bit of meat. You know, dad stuff. 'Cause they're the daddiest of daddies.

[bishy437]

he won

bonus:

[noodles-and-tea]

personally i think the funniest way of explaining anything off about the reported timeframes in your au is to have both stan & ford being absolutely terrible with time

stan being like damn the 50s sucks & little ford going its the 60s???? & ford going ‘nearly 30 years ago’ and fidds being like ford you’re like 30 that doesn’t make sense

I love that so much

[tariah23]

The manga industry, especially JUMP, needs to hurry up and do away with weekly scheduling for mangaka. There needs to better regulations put into place for their health and safety because this is pitiful. Two weeks - monthly updates should’ve already been the standard for the manga industry at this point. These money grabbers will only continue to put the lives of these artists at stake for the sake of capitalism unless some serious changes are implemented.

[thetownsendsw]

See, funnily enough in one of the earliest primary sources on Arthur he’s specifically noted to have Three Wives, all named Gwenhwyfar somehow. One human, one fairy, one giantess. Early early Arthuriana goes hard.

Now, really that’s less polyamory than it is good old fashioned bigamy. But in the version I’ve imagined telling for years now, the Gwens all had their tacit dalliances with other members of the round table, which the fey and the giant found perfectly to their liking, if annoyingly clandestine. The Princess of Gwent over here only showed her ass by being Christian and uptight about the whole arrangement and utterly failing to be subtle once she finally takes up with Lancelot. So Arthur’s forced to make a big show of punishing her to preserve his Christian Honor (read: keep all these goddamn warlords from thinking they can shank him because the two are related some-fucking-how), knowing full well Lancelot would swoop in and save the day, only for the damn changeling to take the whole thing seriously and start a civil war!

Quoth the Dux Bellorum: “Fuck’s sake I wave a giant glowing sword around and I’m somehow the only one here with any subtlety.”

Stories that would be improved by polyamory:

Dracula: it's basically a novel of kitchen-table polyamory already, but this way someone might actually kiss Jack Seward.

A Midsummer Night's Dream: just let them all have an orgy at the end. I feel like they'd be into it. Puck's invited too if he wants.

Bridget Jones' Diary: why force a choice between Mark and Daniel if there was the option to have both?

Any Arthuriana: less cheating, more honesty, fewer duels, more snogging, everyone's a winner.

Stories that would be made worse by polyamory:

Wuthering Heights: dear God do not give Cathy and Heathcliff a reason to drag more people into their terrible relationship than are already involved.

[wykonii]

They’re having a nerd-off

[umblrspectrum]

i love learning cursive just to write text for exactly one character

[fruit-teeth]

Me: maybe I’m not cut out to be a writer…idk what if I’m not good enough

BookTok romance writers: ‘what if you were just a normal school teacher…but the MINOTAUR wanted to get you PREGNANT’