#I’m writing a fic for this one already

[local-falsettos-obsession]

Y’know how Marvin and Trina have a parakeet during in trousers? I feel like Marvin and Whizzer ended up bringing it with them to their apartment. Whizzer loved this bird to pieces, He’d sneak the bird an extra snack or two, speak to her when Marvin wasn’t around, and let her rest on his shoulder or finger. Like Marvin had no idea why she only listened to Whizzer when he’s been the one taking care of her for years. Once Marvin and Whizzer break up the bird gets all depressed because she misses Whizzer. Once they get back together though, the bird doesn’t leave Whizzer’s side unless he tells her to, oh yes the bird absolutely listens to him. Whizzer will let her perch on his finger or shoulder, he brings her around the apartment on his finger since she can’t fly. When she’s out on the loose (aka the floor) she’ll just waddle behind Whizzer and if he sits down she’ll whine to be brought up to sit with him unless he says no. That bird is his second child

[persnickety-doodles]

But Korra's protests die on her tongue as Asami pulls her in for another kiss, and by the time they resurface their tea has long since gone cold.

Under Me, Over Me, Any Way You’ll Have Me by @korrasamibottles

I’m back with another inspired doodle! ☺️ Enjoy!

[inthehouseoffinwe]

Y’know when you’re tired and come across the wrong post at the wrong time and just. Pure rage. For no reason whatsoever.

I’m feeling rather bitter at Elwing rn (it was a very well written ficlet and I admire the writer, I’m just tired and unwell 😂) so you get a little fic of me getting that out. Content warning done.

Here we go!

Elrond and Elros can’t stand most depictions of their mother.

White feathered wings, plain white gown billowing in the sea breeze around her slight figure, two dark shapes reaching taloned hands for the brilliant gem around her neck. Desperate expression on a too round face with wide eyes looking towards her sons. It makes them sick.

Because Elwing wasn’t soft and innocent. Elwing wasn’t like that at all.

Sharp, angular features. Grey slivers for eyes more often clouded than not. White? Yes she wore white. But it was the white of a desert sun, the white of cold starlight, merciless and unfeeling as elves were dragged to the darkness.

And she’d loved her sons, yes, but it was the love of an ideal. Elwing was young and far from ready for the burdens of motherhood alongside ruling a city in her husband’s ever growing absences. And the gem-

Well. The less said about the silmaril, the better.

The Sindar more than others remain desperate for a symbol of innocence, a sign of their claim to the stolen jewel over the sons of it’s creator. So they present their winged princess bathed in holy light whilst the sons of Fëanor cower from it’s brilliant glow.

But Elrond and Elros remember how the stone sang when Maedhros and Maglor arrived, just as they remember their mother’s fury at its song.

You see, Elwing loved her sons. But she didn’t jump to save them.

Elrond and Elros saw the beginnings of regret, but they also remember her steadfast determination to keep what was never hers, cold starlight and unyielding sun meshing to cruel pride as she fell. It wasn’t holy light but white hot fire that clashed with the silmaril to send her screaming as the stone rejected her grasp, burning brighter than ever as she flew to her husband.

Elrond’s arrival to Valinor and the white scars radiating from Elwing’s hand to her chest confirm what he knew all along.

It wasn’t innocence that crowned her the day Sirion fell.

Because years before Maedhros and Maglor had fallen victim to the Silmaril’s hallowing, Elwing the White had paid the price for her false claim. And no matter how they tried to hide it, the consequences of that pride marked her to this day.

[overthinkinglotr]

People always say “Thorin could never retire in the Shire because he has to be King” — and I think the funniest way to handle that plotline would be for Bilbo to convince Thorin to eliminate the monarchy.

Bilbo has lived all his life in the Shire, where they elect their main leaders in a democratic system. Thorin is the first king he ever meets. Bilbo would initially think monarchy was very storybook-like and fantastical, like the things he’s read about in tales from distant lands…..but he would quickly find the reality of monarchy underwhelming, baffling, and annoying. Thorin/ Thranduil/Bard would make Bilbo decide that all monarchies are terrible. Being a king makes you self-important, haughty, greedy, and warlike. Kings are too powerful and use that power to fight over utter nonsense. They’ve got no one to keep their stubbornness in check. He would come to decide that the Shire really did have it right by holding elections.

I’m imagining a scene where Thorin dramatically confesses “I suffer under the burden of my duties; heavy is the head that bears a crown” and Bilbo flatly responds “don’t be king, then. >:/Elect someone else. If your people don’t want you then they won’t choose you! Im very tired of this whole affair and I wish I were back in the Shire, where folk are more reasonable >:(“

Thorin is enchanted by the strange foreign Hobbit custom of “elected leaders.” He has never considered this as a possibility. Overwhelmed by the Hobbit’s wisdom after the Battle of the Five Armies, Thorin converts his kingdom into a democratic republic and retires from public life.

This causes a domino effect. Other kingdoms across Middle Earth are inspired by Erebor’s example, and band together to reject their monarchical systems. Revolutions ensue.

Thorin’s consort “Bilbo Baggins,” known only as “the dwarf-king’s advisor who first set off this wave of revolutions,” becomes one of the most controversial and reviled people in all of Middle Earth. Bilbo becomes a figure of mythic proportions, loved by the democratic republicans and despised by the royalists, each of which invents their own wild legends.

To the democratic republicans “The Great Baggins” is glorified as a great warrior sent from Valinor to restore the long-forgotten wisdom borne out of The West— he snaps his fingers and with a poof of smoke he washes away all the old corrupt systems of the world, just as the Valar washed away Numenor.

But to the royalists, “The Mad Baggins” is a scheming shadowy monster who crawled up from the deep places of the world to burn the very foundations of Middle Earth to the ground; he’s a monster more powerful and terrible than a dragon or a balrog, who threatened Thorin into submission and brought the world into chaos. he snaps his fingers and monarchies collapse in a puff of smoke.

Meanwhile elderly Bilbo grumpily putters around the Shire with Thorin, mostly oblivious to all of this.

[enkimesh-truther]

image via @ xelarale on twitter / @xelarale on tumblr

I’m literally never active on twitter but my friend sent me this picture and… omg! I wrote a fic just like this!

Here is the link if you’d like to read it :)

Happy pride month to all t4t relationships!

[sukirichi]

PLEASE STOP COPYING FICS ‼️

I am by no means gatekeeping concepts or tropes. We all know that it’s normal to see the same tropes or AUs be used differently, and that is not plagiarism. However, I recently found a fic that was oddly similar to my old (and discontinued) Gojo x Reader series, Reckless. The CEO! Gojo is nothing new, and neither is an accidental pregnancy trope. The only reason I am concerned is because this Gojo series I found has the exact same themes as Reckless that consists of: a playboy CEO Gojo with a very notorious reputation, a poor reader who is an employee and asset to the company (someone who works closely with Gojo), reader getting knocked up from a one night stand with Gojo, reader with a seemingly dead/absent mother yet still in contact with her father, Gojo with a very traditional family who does not like reader, and Gojo with an ex he struggles to let go of - which are all elements of Reckless.

The first chapter of that Gojo fic is also eerily similar to my first chapter with the same flow of: YN finding out she’s pregnant and her friend being there for her, Gojo saying he’ll take responsibility because ‘they both made the baby’, YN having to move in with Gojo to take care of the baby, and both of them coming to a mutual agreement that their ‘relationship’ will be purely for the baby’s benefit. The flow of events and specific details about the characters’ backgrounds are too similar to mine.

Again, I am not gatekeeping concepts, just as how I’ve had other writers ask me if they could write their own stories or takes based off of the NAOYA’S TROPHY WIFE COLLECTION or the BONTEN HUSBANDS EXCLUSIVE, and I’m fine with that. I’m even happy people are inspired by what I write. But being inspired is completely different from taking someone’s story and posting it as yours. Please trust your own creativity and skills in writing. You can write amazing stories and have people love them without having to steal from others.

It’s sad to say this is not the first time I, and other writers, have been plagiarized. It’s even more upsetting to know that a friend of mine who has also written a Gojo series (that I’m sure you all know and dearly love) experiences the same issues with the same person. The fact that this is happening to many writers out there is disheartening. We work hard and pour a lot of love in the stories we create. None of us are getting paid for this, and we simply want to share our passions with others. So please, let us be kinder with one another and show love and support the right way. If you love a fic, you give feedback and rb/comment + show support to the writer. You don’t steal their ideas and play it off as your own because you liked it.

[pink-tk-a-latte]

if you could sit in a barrel, maybe

[sfw tickle fic!! possible claustrophobia. lee!venti, ler!lumine]

࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ༄ ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ༄ ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ༄

“Well… this is troublesome.”

Lumine hissed as she squeezed Venti closer to her. “You’re the one who got us here.” Venti laughed, breathless as the Traveler choked him.

The wooden walls of the barrel did nothing to muffle the heavy footsteps shaking the tavern floor. Lumine’s ears could pick up the clinking of chains on the suit of the tavernkeeper (Diluc, because of course it was Diluc). The air was stuffy, it smelled sour, and, as hard as she blinked, Lumine could see nothing but darkness and the not-even-guilty outline of Venti’s face squished against his braids.

“Aw, don’t be mad, my dear. I just wanted some birthday wine! However could we celebrate without wine?” Venti whispered pitifully, head cradled in Lumine’s lap. His feet scuffed on the side of the barrel — she felt her lungs still.

Every noise was like a firecracker in this suffocating, pitch-black space. At each incensed footfall outside and each too-sharp breath or shuffle within the curved planks, Lumine’s arms stiffened around the bard in her hold. If only I could be silent enough for the both of us.

Venti kicked his leg again, twitching with excited energy. Lumine’s heart rocketed. The steps on the floorboards had stopped. She stuck her hands under Venti’s arms and tugged him close.

Then his entire body flinched, a squeak shooting out of his mouth. Lumine clenched her teeth as the barrel shook.

“Venti!”

“Sorry!” Venti wriggled as much as he could, the tiniest wispy giggles sprouting from his lips. “Wahaha— Your hahands!”

Lumine sighed. A twitchy smile pulled at her cheeks. “Oh, Ven. Just try to be quiet.”

Mute, Lumine scribbled under Venti’s arms. She chuckled softly at his nervous choke.

“Lu- Luhumihine! AHaha- NaHAhat now! Stop t- tihihi— Stahap thahahat!”

“What? Tickling you?” Lumine grinned as Venti quivered and whined in a flustered flurry. She dragged her fingers between his upper ribs, teasing at the edge of his dancing corset.

“EHee yehehehes! Stop tihihicklihing!”

“Stop being so ticklish then.” In this moment of warmth and giddy suspense, Lumine forgot all need for stealth. There was something thrilling about breaking the rules, toeing the line and trying not to get caught.

Lumine traced the hems of Venti’s dress shirt, scratching up his forearms and around his underarms. Hysterical, he squealed into her clothes and squirmed. Lumine could feel the vibrations of his lyre-sweet laughter running through her abdomen (and she tried to pretend it didn’t affect her in a giggly way at all).

“EEHE! Dihiluhuhuc will hehehehear!” Venti pleaded. “He’ll be sohoho mahaHAhad!”

Now you’re worried? “Well, maybe you deserve it.” With a huff, Lumine patted down his torso, searching for his hips. “This was all your idea anyway, you little wiggleworm.” Ah, bingo. She slipped her fingers into the hole in Venti’s shorts, tracing circles into soft, sensitive skin where his shirt had ridden up.

All the while, Venti was gnawing on his braids to muffle himself, a wail leaping from the back of his throat when she made it to his hips. He’d jerked so far forward that Lumine had sunk farther onto her back somehow, and Venti was now crushing her chest.

“LUHUmihihi pleheheHEASE! Nah nohohot thehehere! I cahahan’t, Ihihi’m—!” Desperately, Venti twisted his hips and shook his head, braids whipping about, glowing. Oh, they were glowing a lot, actually. Almost as if—

The barrel exploded.

Lumine lay surrounded by the splintered remains of their hiding spot — unharmed, but winded (ha) by the burst of Anemo. Venti was collapsed on her chest, where he panted and rubbed at his apple-red cheeks.

Grimacing as her legs twinged with pins and needles, Lumine propped Venti up by his shoulders to examine his face. “You okay?” she asked, still supine on the floor.

Venti nodded, loopy. “Only hurt that you would be so mean to me. And on my birthday?” He pouted and almost tumbled onto her again.

A snicker broke out of Lumine’s chest. Then it snowballed into bubbling laughter that shook her entire torso. Venti too succumbed to mirthful stitches, equally exhilarated from the high of misbehavior.

“Happy birthday to you.” Lumine giggled and patted Venti’s cheek. He met her with a wide, joyous smile.

“Happy birthday indeed, bard,” came a new, much deeper, much more intimidating voice.

Venti and Lumine looked up at the looming shadow, red hair, dark suit, crossed arms and all. Blazing eyes twisted in irritation burned through them.

It seemed Diluc had discovered the mess they’d created.

And they never even made it to the wine…

࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ༄ ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ༄ ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ༄

HAPPY BIRTHDAY VENTI!!!!! 🍏 You’re finally home for your bday pictures after evading my pulls for three years <333

[workingchemistry]

“It matters not to me what form you take.” Thor soothes, echoing the words he spoke centuries earlier when Loki hesitantly explained that he was not always a prince but that did not necessarily mean he was Asgard’s princess either. “Whether you are my brother, my sister, my sibling, or a glorious snake, you are still my kin to protect above all else in Asgard.”

“And what do you propose I am, if not Asgardian?”

Fear grips tight to Thor’s heart but he does not falter. “Loki, you are Jotun.”

[rubypasha1]

Hiya, gues who posted the first chapter of their next fic 😊

Thank you so much to @ss-shitstorm

Anywho-

It wasn't a passion or life changing. Transformers Prime was simply a show you enjoyed, once. Yet here you are.

A soul born of flesh and blood, now a spark of metal and energon. Cybertron lived, the war had not begun yet things were far from easy. Life lived in a society that places value on your altmode and drains every speck of creativity was not life. It was survival, and you didn't know how many more human life-times you could manage in it.

But insporation comes in the form of an anonymous writing piece viewed only by chance. Creativity sparks and gives you the push you need. By some miracle, you're even able to meet the amazing poet!

. . .

"Megatron?"

[kacchans-waifu]

Pov: you’re Bakugou’s academic rival.

The both of you share a similar work ethic. Though, you aren’t as naturally gifted as Bakugou, which only pissed him off more. For your entire high school career, the two of you have been competing nonstop for the number one spot as the top student. It’s only until you end up studying together that you two begin to see things differently.

You felt butterflies in your stomach every time Bakugou flaunted his perfect test scores. Your face heated up every time a debate between the two of you got heated.

When he pinned you against the bookshelf in the library and his face flushed, you were too flustered to look him in the eye.

And when he pulled you in and kissed you under the umbrella you shared, a part of you didn’t see him as your rival anymore.

And Bakugou can deny it all he wants, but he knows he felt the same.

[ronanceautistic]

it’s soooooo interesting how ronance antis love to say “but nancy doesn’t like robin 😾” even though LITERALLY. CANONICALLY. it was robin who did not like nancy at first. she literally called her a priss in s3 like… but no robin is their precious baby lesbian best friend who can’t do any wrong and nancy is the evil witch who broke robins besties heart so of course,,, she’s gonna be why ronance wouldn’t work

[rowanisawriter]

patrochilles / fairy tale AU / complete (40k words)

There is a curse. A destiny, as his mother loves to remind him. A war. An unknown future, somewhere out there in the fighting and killing. But here, there is only the sun and the grass and Achilles’s swift feet. Here, there is Patroclus sitting in the shade. Here, Achilles pulls him closer and puts his arms around him, staining their clothes with charcoal dust from sketched out dreams. Patroclus sinks into him heavily. The sound of their breathing is the only thing they can hear, as though the clearing—their clearing— is a shield hiding them from the rest of the world. “Take me with you,” Patroclus tells him at the same time that Achilles says, “Please come with me.”

In the tiny kingdom of Phthia, a golden prince is cursed with invulnerability except for a vulnerable heel. An exile apprenticed to a shoemaker is commissioned by the palace to create a shoe the prince can fight in.

A fairy tale about a curse, a magical shoe, a war, a doomed hero, an exile, destiny, and love despite everything.

[bey0nd-1he-stars]

Does anyone know if there’s a Jegulus fic with Call me by your name AU? If so, please send it to me, I want to read it if it exists 🫠

[cucumbermoon]

What if Garak pulled a Spock? Like, ten years after Bashir moves to Cardassia, he comes home from a busy day at the hospital and Garak is having red leaf tea and laughing with some Cardassian guy Bashir has never seen before and Garak’s just like, “Oh, this is my brother.”

[rosyhoneydew]

Okay nobody has even hinted at this being a thing I don’t think but imagine how cute and fun a Halloween/Fall themed bucktommy week would be 😭

[calmlb]

WIP Wednesday

babyzai 3 angsttttt </333