#a crack fic i guess

[dyinggirldied]

danny fenton: superbat’s illegitimate son conspiracy

Danny, who is so bad at hiding his powers (flying, super strength, glowing beams, etc) and looks like Bruce when he was a child.

Everyone else: Danny, are you secretly Bruce and Clark’s illegitimate son?

[olailamajnoon]

Dick on the phone, at 3 pm in the afternoon: Forgive me father for I have sinned.

Bruce, just woken up, squinting at the alarm clock: Dick it's 3 pm. what is this.

Dick, tearfully: My confession! I couldn't sleep, Bruce. I was the one who drove my hamster to suicide! I didn't feed him malt cookies like I was supposed to! He climbed on the exercise wheel and didn't stop running until he died.

Dick: *continues sobbing*

Bruce: okay so first of all.

Bruce: I'm not a priest.

Bruce: And second of all. Animals don't commit suicide.

Dick: Mari did!

Bruce: You named your male hamster after your mother...?

Dick: NOT THE POINT, BRUCE!

Dick: but yes.

Bruce, sighing: There's so much to unpack here I don't know where to start.

Dick: I killed him, Bruce. I should have died along with him!

Bruce:...

Bruce: It's possible that you've associated your hamster's death with the trauma of your parents' death, possibly because of shared names, and you've displaced your survivor's guilt from the first onto the second.

Dick:...

Dick: So what should I do.

Bruce: In my experience, the best way to deal with survivor's guilt is to save as many people as you can, possibly people in the same situation as the loved ones you have lost, hoping that the heroic nature of your deeds lets you sleep at night.

Dick: And what if that doesn't work?

Bruce: Then you drink. Get shitfaced drunk every time you feel a pang. Or you can pray to a nonexistent god and an uncaring universe.

Dick:...

Dick: If I come over, will you break out the good whiskey.

Bruce: I thought you'd never ask.

[somerandomcockroach]

The first part of the fic "Mistakes on mistakes until" in a nutshell

[choccy-milky]

im finally playing HL again after only playing it once when it first came out, and thanks to mods (especially @silverxstardust's clothing mod) i finally made clora how i like her...LOOK AT HER.....my baby angel darling👼💖��

seriously tho playing the game again after all this time (especially now that im playing as CLORA clora, and not just clora that was a random chara i made) is so different, but its also taking me back so much🥹😭💖

[motleyfam]

It was supposed to be an easy night.

“—With this serum, I shall finally free my atoms of their dimensional prison, allowing me to freely traverse the very fibers of our universe!” the mad scientist proclaims as Red Robin, who is seated in a chair across from him in the makeshift laboratory, works furiously to undo the knots binding his hands behind his back. “The laws of physics shall govern me no more!”

“Don’t you do it, Frank,” Red Robin warns as he struggles with the ropes. “You know what happened last time.”

“That’s Dr. Nexus to you!” the third-rate villain declares as he tips the neon purple liquid into his open mouth.

Tim swears. Tapping his ear to his shoulder, he activates his comms. “Anyone near the abandoned warehouse on 28th and Laremont?" he demands. "We might need some backup.”

“Seriously?” Red Hood snorts incredulously through his earpiece. Tim can hear gunfire in the background. “For Nexus? You’re off your game, kid.”

“Yeah, well, I’m a little tied up at the moment,” Tim bites back irritably. “And Frankie here is about to go into anaphylactic shock. Again.”

“DR. NEXUS!” the villain bellows, then promptly breaks into a coughing fit.

“You’re a community college drop-out, Frank! You do not have a doctorate!”

“Screw you, I’m going back! I’m just”—Frank wheezes—“taking a semester”—wheeze— “off!”

With a final tug, the ropes slip from Tim’s wrists. Jumping to his feet, he jams a hand into the eighth pocket of his utility belt, retrieving a plastic autoinjector.

Doubled over with his hands on his knees, Frank holds up a defensive hand as he approaches. “Wait, no!” He coughs a few times. “Just a little more time! I’m so”—he wheezes—“close! I can”—wheeze—“taste it!”

“You’re tasting the inside of your own airway, that’s what you’re tasting…” Tim mutters under his breath, ripping off the blue plastic cap with his teeth.

“Go to"—wheeze—"hell!”

“Pro tip,” Tim says as he swings the uncapped Epi-Pen in an arc over the villain's thigh, “try not to insult the guy who's saving your life!”

The needle plunges into Frank’s leg for the second time in as many weeks, eliciting a howl of indignation and pain.

“You know, that’s gotta be the most hypocritical thing you’ve ever said."

“Yeah, yeah,” Tim grumbles into the comms, “just send the freaking ambulance…”

[leelarots]

is this anything

[the-broken-pen]

Hi! I just watched Mulan and I think it was AMAZING (which inspired me to send this ask) and I love your writings too! If youre not too busy, can you write a male villain x female hero who disguises as a man but one day in their fight, the villain finds out! You can continue how you'd like the next part to be

Thank u, have a nice day <3

“Well,” the villain said, swallowing hard. “This certainly makes things regarding my sexuality a bit more confusing.”

Out of all the things she had expected him to say, it certainly hadn’t been that.

She dropped her hands down from where they had been protecting her face.

“I’m sorry?”

The villain waved a hand at her, brow furrowing.

“Yeah, you know, this complicates some stuff.”

“Stuff?”

“Stuff,” the villain agreed.

She rubbed a hand over her brow.

“So you’re not…mad?”

At first, it had been an accident. She had been undercover, and her disguise had apparently been better than she thought, because the villain had taken one look at her and decided she was a guy. Which she didn’t have a problem with. It for sure made her worry less about her secret identity. But at some point it had been too long for her to correct the villain, so he called her a him and she did her best to drop her voice an octave and failed so spectacularly she was surprised that hadn’t tipped him off in the first place.

“Why would I be mad?”

“I don’t know,” she said, voice wavering. “I’ve been lying to you? Apparently, this is causing a major upheaval in your understanding of your identity? There’s a lot of reasons!”

“Would you…” his brow furrowed. “Like me to be mad at you? Because I can do that if that’s something you need to get through this situation. I’ve been told I’m a good actor. Tree number four in my school play when I was six and all that. Talent you can’t teach, you know?”

She stared, slightly dumbfounded, because this was not what she had expected. This wasn’t even in the same realm, same dimension, as anything she had expected.

“You are being remarkably chill about this.”

The villain laughed, then gestured to himself.

“Oh, no. There’s a fair bit of internalized screaming going on at the moment. Like. Quite a lot to be honest.”

“Screaming,” she said faintly, and he nodded.

“Yeah, loads of it. Which is not your fault at all,” he blurted out, like he truly was incredibly worried about her taking it the wrong way. “I’m just. Grappling with the fact that I don’t like you any less as a woman than when I did when you were—well, when I thought you were—“ he amended, “a man.”

“Oh,” she said intelligently.

And if they were being honest in this acid trip of a conversation, she had a fair bit of internal screaming going on too.

He just stared at her with something like awe. “You’re just. So pretty. Like even as a guy you were pretty. You really can pull off masculinity. Or like. Androgyny. Just for future reference if you’re wondering. Just like. Damn.”

She furrowed her brow.

“Should I be feeling objectified right now?”

“I mean, I don’t think so, but I’m not really the one who should be telling you how you feel.”

He had a fair point with that.

“Okay,” she made a gesture that could have been interpreted as ‘spooked feral raccoon please don’t bite me’ but was mostly just to stop anything else from tumbling out of his mouth. “Can we just run this back before you say more stupid things in an effort to keep all your,” she gave him a dry look. “Internal screaming internalized?”

He shrugged one shoulder. “Go for it.”

She sighed. “You liked me as a guy. Apparently quite a bit. And now you know I’m a woman—which by the way, sorry for not telling you, that’s my bad—and you still like me quite a bit. And that’s…helping you discover some things about yourself?”

He thought for a second.

“Pretty much hit the nail on the head, I think.”

“Okay,” she managed. “Okay. In all of my bouts of anxiety surrounding this, this was never any of the scenarios my brain conjured. I’m not even sure the chemicals in my brain would have come up with this. They certainly don’t know how to handle it.”

He frowned, and it was too reminiscent of a kicked puppy for her to look at it for too long. Or directly at it, for that matter.

“What did you think would happen?”

“Murder,” she replied. “Like, an immediate attempt on my life. Very gruesome.”

His eyes snapped to meet hers, filled with so much immediate, panicked concern that she almost choked on it.

“I literally bought you a sandwich last week.”

“And you also threw me into a wall. Lots of mixed signals there so I feel justified in my own insane scenarios.”

“Ok but like. The wall throwing was in a nefarious way.”

“And the sandwich wasn’t?”

“It could have been poisoned. You don’t know. I’m nefarious like that.”

“You’re overusing that word—“

“You ate a potentially poisoned sandwich without thinking about it, which I think we should talk about—“

“It had the good cheese on it, did you think I would turn that down? That stuff is expensive—“

“It’s like seven dollars from Fred Meyer. What cheese are you eating—“

She slapped a hand over his mouth, and his eyes widened to something almost comical.

She was surprised.

He was surprised.

The universe itself was probably surprised.

“We are getting very off topic.”

He nodded behind her hand, but made no move to contribute further to the conversation. Which again. Was probably for the best.

“So.” She glanced over his face. “You like me.”

He paused. Then nodded once.

She blew out a breath. “Okay. Alright. Well, that complicates things for me. I did not calculate for this—“

He snatched her hand from his mouth, but his grip stayed gentle. 

“Wait. Did you think I wouldn’t like you if I knew you were a girl.”

She swallowed. Hard.

“Ok. Well. We can very gladly put that fear to bed.”

She nodded once, and he returned her hand back over his mouth.

She snatched it back before he did something stupid. Like lick her.

She wouldn’t put it past him.

The silence between them was awkward in a way it never had been. 

She kicked at a rock.

“So,” she said.

“So.”

“Haven’t they made a movie about this kind of thing before?”

She shrugged one shoulder.

“What haven’t they made a movie about?”

“Dogs that play basketball.”

“No, I think they got that one.”

His eyes lit up. “Will you—“

“I will not watch it with you,” she said sternly. “I don’t do well with CGI dogs.”

He deflated, morose.

She sighed.

“So gender doesn’t bother you then.”

“I’m beginning to realize gender is a construct,” he said slowly. He stopped for a second. “Unless you like gender! Then it’s very real. I am supportive of Schrödinger’s gender.”

She squinted at him.

“I fear they should have studied you.”

“They did. Didn’t figure anything out though.”

It startled a laugh out of her, and he grinned like it was the best thing in the world.

“You’re not going to go easy on me because I’m a woman, right?”

He looked insulted.

“If I go easy on you, it’s because I’m in love with you,” he corrected. “But then it’s not really fun if there isn’t the underlying threat of serious bodily harm, so unfortunately you’re going to have to deal with more fighting,” he said, very seriously.

She bit her lip to stop the next laugh.

“Oh darn.”

“I know,” he agreed, and she could hear the amusement on his tongue. “What a bummer.”

“Not exactly the word I would have used, but—“

“I know. You use all the serious words in correct circumstances, and I use all the stupid ones at the right times and the smart ones at the wrong ones.”

“I mean. At least you’re aware.”

“At least I’m aware!” He said it proudly.

He looked at her with a sort of extreme fondness she had never been on the receiving end of.

In the distance, something exploded.

She jerked around to look at it, then whirled back to him.

“I should,” she jerked a thumb over her shoulder, and he merely stepped back.

“Off you go,” he said, sweeping his arms out like a butler welcoming her into their house.

“You’re not worried I won’t come back?”

He grinned, a boyish thing.

“Oh, you always come back to me.”

She flushed bright red, then took off over the tops of the buildings.

He was right, though.

She always, always, came back.

[slow-reader-reads-books]

Lesbingyuan au where it’s the normal set up of post extras Bingge dimension traveling into another universe to find his own Shen Yuan. Except the world he arrives in (and is stuck in, can’t opt out of this gender journey) is a slightly genderbent one.

(hidden under a read more bc this turned basically into a wonkily grammatically tensed mini-fic)

Our darling Peerless Cucumber is a 20 something self-proclaimed straight girl with untapped soft butch potential, and is currently recovering from the harrowing trauma of the sunk cost fallacy. She’s spent a lot of time spending money on, reading, and participating in the online fandom of Proud Immortal Demon Way, and she’s currently also dealing with the fact that all her hard work in making herself heard to Great Master Airplane was seemingly for nothing. You see, Shen Yuan had the brilliant idea to create an account that appeared to be a perfectly demographically targeted straight male fan of YY novels who could critique Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky as his fellow but also his better and be listened to and receive great accolades from all frequenters of Zhongdian Literature and be validated for her hate of his writing.

“Airplane’s stupid pen name is a dick joke, I guess I gotta make mine one too… Just to, you know, seem legit and like we have common ground.”

What this charade accomplished was very little, but Peerless Cucumber did become very infamous for three things. One, his nitpicking (“It’s hardly nitpicking if it harms the integrity of the whole story1!!”). Two: his Luo Binghe fanboying (“As a protagonist he’s clearly just a cut above the rest when it comes to soul and wit, the story just rarely ever shows it off”). And three: his skipping of the steamy scenes (“I highly doubt this near identical scenario that also happened twenty chapters back but with a different wife of the week with this exact same cliffside flower giving off the same aphrodisiac mist to Bingge and new wife below will now suddenly be of any plot consequence for the next arc. It didn’t last time either, SKIP!”).

His fervent online activity garnered him the reputation of being an Airplane anti-fan, but also the assumed personality of a submissive simp who hates the easily dominated women that populate Luo Bingge’s harem. 

“lol thats why he must like mingyan so much. she never let bingge push her down. cucumber-bro must want a girlfriend who’ll chain him up and whip him! hes a pervert just like the rest of us, just a worse type kek.” 

Shen Yuan, when looking at such reply comments, gets shiver-inducing flashbacks to when her meimei left her BL comics out for everyone and the Buddha to see. She accidentally witnessed frightening scenes of thin, long-limbed men pushing each other down, tying each other to beds and cracking whips on skin until they shed blood, tears and semen, the shou begging for the gong to stop and the gong never listening. 

Shen Yuan tries to put such things out of her mind if only to preserve in amber the precious, innocent image of her meimei she knows to be true, but also secondarily to focus on the insulted male pride she’s supposed to be feeling after being accused of being a wussy submissive deviant in bed. That sort of accusation requires an in-depth 10,000 character response in order to remain in character as a straight male YY novel connoisseur.

Shen Yuan, as Peerless Cucumber but also as her true self, was undoubtedly straight. Staying in character, Peerless Cucumber made sure to extol the beauty of characters like Liu Mingyan— “She’s an intelligent and cold beauty and is written with a clear and vivid personality! A true equal for our Bingge on the battlefield and in matters of the heart!” As well as occasionally Ning Yingying— “She’s not the boring choice, you all just don’t know the special value a loyal shijie character brings, even if she does lose 99% of her personality to that one singular trait…”

But don’t get it twisted! This is a part of her performance! In real life, logged off and touching grass and breathing fresh outdoor air, she’s your run-of-the-mill average girl who is just a part of the pack. 

Her goals in life are simply not ambitious, is all. If there was a competition with ten available spots to win, she’d have no qualms placing tenth and simply feel honored to have participated. If there are ten girls and nine of them bag a good boyfriend, Shen Yuan doesn’t mind being the tenth who gets unlucky. She’s just kind to her meimeis and jiejies like that! As if she’d take that away from them! They'd probably been wanted those boyfriends for a long time! 

Shen Yuan is hardly a sore loser, and she knows the great importance of girl code and female friendship.

So, Shen Yuan being the normal average and totally straight and cisgender girl that she is decides to wallow in her Airplane-induced misery by going to a con, donning her homemade Mobei-jun cosplay. She worked hours of her life learning how to sew just for this project to the point her family thought she was finally thinking about settling down and learning wifely skills. 

Unfortunately for her ignorant family she’s actually just investing in a really elaborate excuse to cross dress. Well, it’s not really crossdressing, it’s just cosplay! Cosplay is totally different and not about taking on the gender of a character, but their larger identity! She didn’t want to explain this to them, and internally felt afraid and hesitant about it, as if they’d view her as weird for wanting to do this, so she didn’t bother to try at all.

So, Shen Yuan in her 160 centimeter/5 foot 3 inch glory decked out in dark blues and blacks, fur lining the shoulders of her outfit for style points, and wearing a long white wig styled mostly loose but with a few thin braids, chances upon a particularly striking Luo Binghe cosplayer. Not just any Luo Binghe cosplayer, but the best one! He’s tall, must be over 180cm/6 foot but also svelte and willowy in surprising ways. His hair is long and flows down his back from a ponytail ornamented at the base with a thin metal guan. Parts of his cosplay seem very benign, but others seem meticulously crafted and exquisite in quality, especially that sword at his hip! Just looking at it intimidated her, yikes! Job well done, cosplayer!

This Luo Binghe also had the most beautiful and delicately boned face she’d ever seen, eyes dark and deep and highly reflective like that of a lake on a dark and starry night. The cosplayer’s voice was also deeply melodic and enchanting.

This cosplayer… is also a woman! Shen Yuan nodded to herself internally, yes that must be it! No man looks like this in reality, this is a fellow female sufferer of Proud Immortal Demon Way impersonating a fictional man for similar psychological reasons as her. A surge of female loyalty spawns in Shen Yuan’s chest, and she doesn't even bother resisting the urge to walk over and strike up a conversation with this Luo Binghe.

She spat out her name in quick order and immediately started on the topic of female character writing in the novel. The Luo Binghe cosplayer was looking at her quietly and with a heavy amount of gravity, ink-brush eyebrows sitting elegantly low above her eyes in attentive focus. What a good listener this lady is, Shen Yuan thought. She can’t remember when someone last listened to her this closely. She hypocritically chooses to not pay attention to that train of thought any further. “In a world like Proud Immortal Demon Way,” Shen Yuan began with slight smarm, “who would choose to be a woman? I certainly wouldn’t if I wanted to see the interesting parts of the world that drew me into the story in the first place. A male protagonist can explore it freely, but the female characters are all locked away in either the marriage bedroom or the highly isolated harem palaces. Great Master Airplane clearly didn’t eat enough walnuts as a child, he must have some sort of brain deficiency when it comes to writing proper characters— ” 

The tall Luo Binghe cosplayer suddenly spoke up. “Choose?” “Hm? Yeah, I mean, in a world like that, there’s basically no choice, yeah? Gotta serve the narrative and readers and all. But the real world doesn’t have a narrative, we only have ourselves and each other to guide us. So we just do what we want, figure it out as we go. Like us two! We wanted to dress up as these male characters from this asinine story and attend this con and we figured out how to do it! We’re kindred spirits, you and I, we’re zhiyin!” “So when you leave this con, you will also choose to take this manner of dress off and wear something else?” “Obviously. Though, my go-to outfit is just a big t-shirt and sweatpants, or athletic shorts. This kind of thing is the extent of me dressing up.” Shen Yuan didn’t notice, but the Luo Binghe cosplayer’s eyes mildly glazed over in irritated confusion at the unfamiliar terms. Nor did she notice the slight expression of planning that developed in that gaze, as if they were imagining a future shopping expedition to find an outfit Shen Yuan would want to dress up in that wasn’t a facsimile of Luo Binghe’s right hand man.

“I… also want to leave this con and wear something else.” “The busyness getting to you, huh jiejie? You must have gotten here a lot earlier than I did, you poor thing. I guess this is it, it was nice talking to you—” “I don’t have any other clothes with me, and am unable to go back home. Can you help this poor one, jiejie?” “Jiejie—” Shen Yuan coughed. “Am I… wait you can’t go back home? Did your ride ditch you or something, aiyah what a scummy thing to do! I do have extra clothes on me, though I don’t think they’ll fit you. But let’s go find out. I guess if I have to take care of you like this, it does make me feel like a jiejie. Your height made me assume you were older than me, haha.”

Shen Yuan laughed, and the Luo Binghe cosplayer rapidly relaxed and took on an easy smile. “An innocent mistake. Jiejie must often be assumed to be younger than her actual age.” Shen Yuan hummed absent-mindedly. “Eh, not really. I’m only 22, and I think I look it. It’s you who looks like a jade immortal, uh, meimei.” She stuttered when she realized she hadn’t yet caught the other cosplayer’s name, and for some reason it felt weird to just call her Luo Binghe without her also LARPing along as Mobei-jun. Shen Yuan by this point had taken the tall meimei’s hand, it pale and slender much like the rest of her, and had been pulling her along towards the public bathroom to make use of her backpack’s change of clothes, walking along the wall to avoid foot traffic. However, the moment she had finished her sentence and called the other one meimei, the Luo Binghe cosplayer suddenly slammed her free hand on the wall and yanked hard on the one Shen Yuan was holding, pulling her in close to herself, caging her in from behind. Shen Yuan squeaked and found herself crowded against the wall. Her back was encased in a warm and dark heat and she could see above her that jade-white hand curled tightly in on itself, heel practically grinding against the wall. It looked like it was trembling slightly. An earth-shatteringly tight grip squeezed the fingers of her still held hand to the point of hurting slightly. Shen Yuan winced at the sensation.

Shen Yuan heard sharp, heavy breathing above her. Not knowing what to do nor quite what was going on, she squeezed back the hand that was keeping hers hostage and leaned back slightly. Comfort is what she’s doing this for, right? Feels like the reason she’s doing it. 

Shen Yuan felt the other cosplayer jolt behind her. After a tense beat, a forehead slowly dropped onto her shoulder. Shen Yuan was wearing fur along the top half of her outfit as a part of her Mobei-jun cosplay, but nonetheless she could feel the vague contour of the other’s nose through it, burrowing deeper into its warmth. Shen Yuan now felt awkward for only bothering with faux-fur for her cosplay. But with that face resting upon her shoulder and an odd sense of vulnerability wafting off of her, a sharp sense of broad awareness filled Shen Yuan's mind mysteriously. Her mind filled up with sensory information on the one behind her, naturally taking note of every detail with ease.

“Meimei…” the Luo Binghe cosplayer trailed off, muffled slightly by Shen Yuan’s cosplay, but also seemingly by her own emotions being stuck in her throat. “Can I really be jiejie’s meimei?” Shen Yuan didn’t really know what to do or how to respond, so she simply continued to lean her weight back onto the other. She then pulled on the elbow that led to the hand positioned above her until it was brought down far enough for her to grab properly. Shen Yuan took both hands in hers and placed them in front of her in a comfortable position. They were slightly cold, so she rubbed at them with her thumbs.

The Luo Binghe cosplayer picked her head up and looked down at the sight with watery eyes and a warbling lip. Both of her hands were cradled in that grip, gently held in front of the shorter’s stomach in a tender and intimate fashion. Their arms were bent parallel and their front and back slotted together in a way that, to the taller one, felt predestined.

“Can you, what kind of question is that, of course you can. But, I’d like to have your name too, if you don’t mind? Only calling you meimei sounds like I’m calling out to my real little sister.” Shen Yuan laughed and looked up over her shoulder nonchalantly. 

Somewhere in the distance, she can hear people giggling and snapping pictures of the two. She felt a twinge of embarrassment. Of course this moment looks compromising from the outside, they’re cosplaying Luo Binghe and Mobei-jun!

Shen Yuan was suddenly working very hard to maintain a cool poker face in front of her very tall and newly minted meimei.

Bringing up her real little sister and then suddenly being thrust into this type of self-aware of cringe violently and nonconsensually summoned forth invented images of a dog blooded BL scenario that wouldn’t be out of place in her real meimei’s leisure literature.

Fellow con goers, please have mercy on us two women and don't be thinking of what I'm thinking! We’re merely having a pure hearted, early friendship bonding moment! Skinship is very much common and normal between people like us, disregard the kabedon! Totally normal female friendship is blossoming here, get your homoerotic dog blood tropes out of our personal lives!

“This one is called… Qiu Bingbing.” Her voice hitched and quavered with some sort of ineffable, delicate emotion. “Bingbing, ah? Written with the same character as Binghe, meaning ice? And Qiu, is that with the character meaning the autumn season or the character meaning a grave mound?”

Qiu Bingbing hummed and nodded lethargically to the first question and spoke up for the second, hesitating slightly. “Qiu as in autumn.” “What a pretty name, “autumn ice”. You fit the bill of Luo Binghe perfectly, but with a name like that it’s nearly a pity to go by something else. You’re a miraculous find in a place like this, Bing-mei.” Shen Yuan complimented with abandon, eager to make her new friend feel good, and turned around. Still holding one hand, she impulsively took the chance Qiu Bingbing’s still bowed head offered and patted it softly.

She did that for a while, not paying attention to anything else. A euphoric smile opened on Qiu Bingbing’s lips. She was lost in the moment too. 

The rest of the world fell away. As long as Luo Binghe, no, as long as Qiu Bingbing can worm her way into every crevice of Shen Yuan, she’ll be fine. He before was always grasping at any semblance of peace and security only for it to slip through his grasp like sand, but she’s found it. She’ll nestle in and hibernate inside Shen Yuan’s veins and she’ll never let go. She will never.

“Let’s go get you those clothes. Good thing I like them oversized, they should be mildly presentable on you, even if they aren’t anything girly.”

“I can live without anything girly, anything of yours will do.”

“That’s good to hear, let’s go then.”

[teecupangel]

[Desmond Miles has successfully saved a Levantine village during the Third Crusaders after waking up in the past.]

Grateful civilian: Thank you, stranger! You have saved our village from the cruelty of war. May we ask who you are so we may know the name of our savior?

[Desmond Miles believes he cannot say ‘Desmond Miles’ because that might accidentally create a ripple effect in the future.]

[Desmond Miles believes he cannot use any of the names of the ancestors who haven’t been born yet especially the Kenways because of how important they are to his history.]

[Desmond Miles has not yet processed the shock of dying a painful death and waking up in the past and his brain is blanking.]

Desmond: Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad.

[The people Desmond Miles have saved now believed their savior’s name is Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad.]

[Desmond Miles has committed identity fraud.]

[… and he will continue to commit identity fraud.]

[yakuza-emulation]

Shoutout to this one YouTube comment for being the funniest motherfucker I’ve seen. For it being so funny (to me at least), I wanted to draw it lol

Under the cut is the original comment (with some more context lol)

This was posted under a Gacha video featuring the Glam-Mike theory prevalently. I don’t think OP even gave any evidence (aside from maybe Freddy’s classic: “I am not me.” line.)

[lordgrimwing]

How Elwing Lost A Silmaril

The first letter—sealed with an eight-pointed star pressed into red wax and delivered just before dawn—left Elwing trembling in her small office, stomach rolling and the taste of bile thick on her tongue. What was she to do? What could she do? Her parents’ murderers were coming here.

The letter didn’t say as much outright. The writer (Maedhros, she’d learned his name eventually, but he would always be the red-haired orcish monster that took her home away and haunted her worst nightmares) veiled every threat behind eloquent lines of meaningless placations and enteritis for the silmaril. He asked her, granddaughter of a thief, to return it to him, eldest son of its maker and rightful heir. But she could read what he did not say: that if she did not bend to his will he would do to Sirion as he did to Menegroth. He would come with his fell army and slaughter everyone in his way.

But how could she give up the jewel? It protected them, kept the forces of darkness at bay just enough for the refugees to eke out a living on the shores. And should Eärendil, her dear, brave husband, find a path to Aman, its light might be the only thing that could stay the Valar’s Doom long enough for them to listen to him. She could not give up their hope.

The second letter—sealed in red wax and delivered as the barley fields were harvested—brought more promises of horrors unnamed falling upon the settlement. She wept after throwing it in the fire. She could not do this on her own. The city council was terrified into inaction at the thought of what lay before then, and Eärendil was still out at sea. She missed him. She missed him so terribly when the councilors looked at her with fearful eyes and asked for her decision.

The fifth letter arrived in the hands of an underfed Mannish girl as the first winds of winter blew in from the sea. Elwing gave her food and a family offered a spot in their home, but the girl said her lord instructed her to go nowhere else until she had a reply for him. Elwing thought of banishing her from the city unanswered, of telling the guards with their rough-made weapons to see that the Fëanorian did not return. She regretted the thought nearly as soon as she had it. The girl was young and it was not her fault that her parents joined themselves to a mighty Elf lord. She could stay for a day.

Tell me whatsoever you desire, the greatest or smallest need of your heart. 

The letter said in handwriting that was fast becoming too familiar. 

I will give unto you that thing and greater still if you would part with my father’s Silmaril. I would bring you all the provisions of my camp, all the weapons of my army, every other precious thing of power left in this land if you would but willingly part with that one small thing that I must otherwise be driven to take by force in the spring. Tell me your desire, and I will give it unto you. Let this not end with blood.

She fumed in her office, angrily pacing the thin rug gifted to her by the weary-eyed wife of one of her father’s guards who fell in the tunnels of Menegroth. She does not need anything from the murdering bastard! Sirion has all it requires. They would be safe if only they were left alone. How can Maedhros think that he could ever give her anything to make up for what he’s done, to convince her to do what he wants? He’s a monster and a coward who wishes to soothe his conscience by acting as if the attack is all her fault, an inevitable consequence of her resistance. He wishes to absolve himself of yet more evil.

She will not let him. If it is the only thing she can do, she will defy him.

Elwing takes up precious ink and paper. She throws herself into her chair and leans over the beaten desk, pouring her anger and helplessness into the words she scratches across the page.

You’ve taken everything from my people. You wish to take everything from me again. You are monstrous, servant of Morgoth. May the Valar stand against you as I cannot. What would I have, you ask? I would have what you’ve taken from me restored: I would have Dior, my father, and Nimloth, my mother; I would have Eluréd and Elurín, my brothers, alive again and in my arms. But I shall never have them for they died at your hands and at your command.  You cannot give me my parents. You search for my little brothers but still cannot give them to me.  So, what would I have? I would have your brothers. Give me your two youngest. I have lost my twin brothers for this gem. You must do the same.

She signed the bottom with a vicious strike that split the quill’s nip, blotting the page with ink as dark as orc blood. Her heartbeat in her chest, thumped against her ribs under her breast as though it would escape fate. Her letter would change nothing and she hesitated for a moment before dripping wax from a flickering candle for the seal, tempted to throw the paper to the fire. 

She’d written in a tantrum, a final kicking of her feet against what would come in an impotent rage. But what did it matter? Did she not deserve to beat her fists against the Doom once? Everyone looked to her for leadership and guidance as Dior’s heir but she felt like little more than a child. This would be so much easier to handle with Eärendil at her side but he still had not returned and at times she doubted he ever would (what Doom had befallen him on the waters? What lonely fate for him and the crew on the waves?). She would send this letter then say goodbye to all childishness and face what came bravely as her parents and grandparents did. 

Resolved, she dripped the wax and sealed the letter. She’d give it to the messenger tomorrow with what small food they could spare so the girl did not starve on the journey. And then…

And then all would be out of her hands and fate would fall as it would.

The sixth letter came in the hands of two red-haired Elves on tall horses. The men sat straight and tall in the saddle, their heads held high. Elwing would have called them haughty if they hadn’t dismounted and bowed deeply before her, falling to one knee as one might before royalty. A third Elf, dark-haired and somber-eyed, rode with them, though he kept himself aside and astride his steed.

“Queen Elwing,” one of the red-heads said, his face fire-scarred. He paused, waiting for permission to go on.

She nodded and waved her hand impatiently, wondering what new trick Maedhros was playing or if this was how he announced an impending slaughter.

The speaker went on, looking up slightly though he stayed kneeling. “We are Ambarussa–” he gestured to the other– “youngest sons of Fëanor. We give ourselves up at your request in exchange for the silmaril.”

Elwing stood in frozen silence as he continued, icy sea breeze biting at her fingers and face. 

[ghostdnfie]

can i confess something. p.hannie drantis were being so annoying yesterday that... i may or may not have, out of spite, started writing a completely nonsensical crack fic in which d.an and dream make out sloppy style ☠️

[sovereignjojoz]

Syz, who decides to take it upon himself to venture out into the open for groceries when you, his sleep deprived s/o, offered to do it despite having had under 4 hours sleep. Of course he couldn’t let you do that, so what was his solution: going to the store AND bringing your zaterran babies with him. Objectively, the task was rather mundane so why had he found himself stuck outside the store with three baby carriers that he couldn’t quite figure out how to transport in, even the old ladies cooing at him would giggle occasionally seeing him try various different methods. Even after 5 minutes of thinking his endeavours were fruitless, his tail even started to wag in frustration. Then suddenly he jumps, having thought of a brilliant idea, the answer was simple!

Dad!syzoth who balances your triplets on his tail while shopping, killing two birds with one stone! Not only does he have more space to carry the shopping bags but the slight swaying motion also keeps the babies from becoming restless and since he has full control over it he can easily keep an eye on them.

His chest is puffed out, a genius solution if he says so himself!

(Little did syzoth know when he came home he would be met with a very concerned spouse, a lot of face cupping and eye contact with an adamant need for reassurance).

Perhaps not so genius?

[just-a-little-kreature]

MDZS/Link Click fans how we feeling after this??

[gerec]

Hello! Your fic recs have brought me so much joy and they were one of the things that made me really into cherik! Like I'm crazy about them now.

And I don't know if you're accepting request if not I'm sorry for disturbing please disregard this part of the message or this entire ask

But I wanted to ask what fics do you read whenever you need a pick-me-up or when you need a laugh.

Because I just watched this YouTube video about this horror novel penpal by dathan auerbach and it was really sad and disturbing but mostly tragically sad and I really wanted to read something sweet or funny as a pick-me-up.

Sorry for the long ask (I can't help but yap) and if its incoherent (English isn't my first language 😅). And thank you so much for your contribution to the x-men Fandom. Both your fic recs and fics brought me so much joy and made it really exciting for me when I was just starting to get into x-men and cherik ❤️💖

Hi Anon,

I'm sorry for the wait, but here's a (very long!) list of fics I go back to over and over whenever I need a laugh or I want to feel the warm fuzzies :D I hope this serves you as well it has served me all these years!!!

Protect, Serve, Troll by keire_ke

Erik’s fire department has a special relationship with the local university. They visit often. Sometimes, there even is a fire.

Erik Lehnsherr’s Guide to Parenting by keire_ke (series)

Alex disapproves of school car washes, despite the abundance of wet bikinis on pretty girls. Erik doesn’t approve of his son shirking money-making duties.

Humane Society by smilebackwards

Once Erik finally allows himself to decide that Charles is pretty much the best thing since sliced bread, he spends the next week being incredibly bitter that he’s Charles’ cat and not his boyfriend.

Other Life Challenges by professor (series)

“Why am I here again?” Erik groans.

“I need you to lift things and glower at people over my shoulder when I tell people that it’s not ‘politically correct’ or a ‘war on Christmas’ to have a non-denominational winter holiday festival,” says Theresa Pryde.

Well, at least those are two things he’s good at.

Wednesday by Red

Getting confined to a nursing facility for a six-week course of iv antibiotics would have been dreadfully dull, had Charles not found a way to “occupy his time.”

In which Erik Lehnsherr, retired nazi hunter, becomes the latest victim of Charles Xavier’s charms.

drastic measures by goodmorningbeloved (3799steps)

Erik glowers.

“I can’t believe we’re back to this,” Charles says, like he wants to throw his hands in the air. He’s pouting a little bit. “Years of progress, and we’ve returned to you brooding. Don’t tell me I have to break out the terrible flirting again.”

Erik glowers a little less. “Flirting,” he repeats, bland but also maybe just very, very, very slightly, faintly, vaguely hopeful.

“Oh, yes,” Charles says absently, until something seems to strike him. “Don’t tell me you don’t…” He raises his left hand and brandishes the ring. “We promised ourselves to each other last week.”

–

Alternatively: Erik’s memory is swiped clean of his and Charles’s relationship.

One Hundred One Night Stands. by Sophia_Bee

Charles has a rule. Never fuck the same guy twice. When he refuses to see Erik again after a one night stand, Erik goes about trying to get Charles to violate that rule using accents and disguises.

Suddenly There’ll Be a Blizzard (Let It Snow Remix) by kianspo

Charles was never at his best while jetlagged, but locking himself out in a snowstorm while barely dressed might be a new low. The last thing he expected was to be rescued by his high school nemesis, the man he hadn’t seen in over ten years, who might have broken his heart for good once upon a time.

All We Are We Are by kianspo 

Charles’s boyfriend breaks up with him days before the holidays. Not willing to ruin anyone else’s festive mood, Charles hides this fact from his sister and his friends, and retreats into the family mansion, letting the world move on without him. He’s flirting with depression when a one-time ex and a long-term friend surprises him. Long-kept secrets are revealed, and it turns out, Charles hasn’t been paying attention to the right things.

Your Heart Just Couldn't Wait by Pookaseraph

Charles and his BFF Tony Stark have the life - they're co-valedictorians at the most prestigious high school in the city, they have their own condo in Manhattan, and they get to go to all the awesome parties. Charles just wished he understood relationships and sex as well as Tony does. His theoretical bisexuality starts to feel a lot less theoretical when he and Tony end up in Professor Lehnsherr's Physics III course at Columbia University, but Charles' decision to take their relationship further leaves both student and professor with more than they bargained for.

this is only now (where do we go from here) by thebodyeclectic From this prompt on the 1stclass_kink meme: Modern AU, where an older Alex (in his mid twenties?) somehow figures out/recieves the news that, no, his younger brother didn't die in the crash like he'd been told, and then sets out to find him. The catch is, Scott's been adopted and adores his 'dad', who is incidentally the adorkable Hank McCoy.

Not So Much the Teacup by thehoyden

“Charles is basically the bride whisperer. It’s like he can read their minds.” (wedding planner AU)

Math Reasons by pearl_o, pocky_slash (series)

"Mom says Erik always knows what he wants, it just sometimes takes him a little while to actually realize it," Ruth said.

Charles fell in love with Erik the first night they met, the first week of freshman year. Two years of friendship, adventures, arguments, hijinks, secrets, and summer visits later, Erik is starting to catch up.

On a Beach, With You (The Tel Aviv Remix) by niniblack

Charles Xavier meets Erik Lehnsherr on a beach in Israel.

Growing Up Lehnsherr by DeerstalkerDeathFrisbee (series)

For someone who hates feelings, Erik gets dragged into an alarming number of conversations about them. In which there are confessions, declarations, awkward first meetings, accidents, explanations, endings and beginnings.

Otherwise know as Five Conversations Erik Didn't Want to Have and One That He Did.

Got You Locked Down Like Police by brawlingdiscontent

Mob AU. Logan’s straightforward ‘retrieval’ job gets complicated. 

One big family by ximeria

There is a house in New York (no, only Charles calls it a house, and his perception of such is a little warped, so let's try that again)...

... There's a building in New York, owned by XavierMedCorp that caters to mutant tenants, their families and a handful of humans. You need to know someone who knows someone who knows someone to get an apartment there. Or maybe just be very lucky. Or have a mutant son who has the tenacity of a pit bull. Anyway, Edie Lehnsherr has moved in and she is slowly getting to know the other tenants, the superintendent and the owner.

Making perfect by aesc

As is the case with most trials in Erik's life, this one starts with Charles gazing beseechingly at him and asking him for a favor. Not that their going-on-three years relationship is a trial, even though it started with Charles giving Erik the full benefit of sad blue eyes and asking him if he wouldn't mind opening his car door since he'd locked his keys inside, but still.

love like toy trucks crashing by midrashic

Charles Xavier may be young, but he knows what it means to love.

Love Runs Out by ikeracity

Hammer Bay, one of the most mutant-friendly apartment buildings in all of Manhattan and affectionately nicknamed the Hub by its residents, is home to an eclectic mix of families, broke college students, scientists, artists, and high school dropouts. Charles Xavier, new arrival to apartment 3K, catches the attention of everyone on the third floor but he only has eyes for one: cranky author Erik Lehnsherr who lives directly across the hall in 3B.

A Nice Boy (The Family Matters Edition) by pocky_slash

Erik's not sure whether the problem is that he doesn't want his parents to meet Charles or that he doesn't want Charles to meet his parents. Either way, he never invites Charles to brunch. Why should he? It's not like they're dating.

soul of my soul by ikeracity 

You can imprint on your soulmate anywhere — school, work, on the street, in a restaurant, on the subway.

Charles and Erik imprint on each other just in time for the holidays.

Walking in a Winter Wonderland by TurtleTotem 

Charles hasn't seen Erik since their devastating breakup ten years ago. He's certainly the last person he expects to run into at a Christmas lights display.

[star-lights-up]

okay, cherik idea here.

And this is a really, really wacky one.... but hear me out (honestly, I think I'm just built for thinking of/writing crackfics).

So, you know that thing where your brain has to make everything you see, think of, listen to, and talk about relate to your current hyperfixation? Well, if you don't... just know I do.

So, I rewatched the barbie movie tonight (you can see where this is going) and my brain was like, hm, okay, how can we make this cherik?

I present to you: this very dumb idea.

So, it's a few years after the ken takeover and the barbies and kens talking things out and mattel visiting barbieland and that one barbie leaving to be a human, and slowly kens are starting to carve out their own places in society.

Let's look at this one ken. He's always felt a little like the odd one out, even during the ken-mojo-dojo-casa-house-kendom-kenland takeover thing where supposedly all kens were just living their best, most kenough lives. (He wonders sometimes, what the other kens would think, if he knew he'd felt the way about some of them that they had felt for barbies.)

After all that happened, he decided to go to university, since he had always been friends with biologist barbie and doctor barbie and philosophy barbie (okay the other two might not be real but I KNOW doctor barbie's a thing). So he goes, he gets a degree, he's chilling. Whatever. (you guys see where this is going, yeah?)

He also chills with weird barbie all the time, since he finds her really smart and interesting to talk to, and sometimes she has books from the real world that he gets to read. And that's really cool.

Then one day, he gets really sad. And really tired. And he's thinking about loss a lot, like, what if he lost his friends? what if they grow up, and change, and they don't need him anymore? And his wardrobe, which had always been kind of a cute, ken-ish style academia, has gotten super depressing and subdued. And he doesn't know what to make of it.

So, he goes and chats with his friend weird barbie, and she tells him all about the barbie who went to the real world a few years ago -- a story she never wanted to talk about before. She says that this is exactly how that started for her -- and that whoever's playing with him must be experiencing some kind of crisis, and their emotions were bleeding into his life.

And before she can even finish talking, he's gripped with this overwhelming sense of sadness for that person -- and the feeling that he wants to help them stop feeling so awful. And so, when weird barbie says that he could go to the real world to help, he doesn't even think twice.

She does, though, and says that since it worked out so crazy last time, he needs a plan going in. While barbieland has become a little more like the real world, it's still REALLY different. So she has him make up a story and choose a name for himself.

Charles Xavier: thirty three years old. He lived in westchester for years. He has a degree in genetics and a passion for learning (though those aren't a lie). He's estranged from his family, but still has some money (weird barbie gave him this thing called a credit card). He's new to LA.

With that, weird barbie sends him forth into the real world.

(I'm going to take a pause here and just mention that originally i had the ken as erik, but then realized i needed a girldad to be the human. Not that charles isn't, but he's got david, and erik has... wanda, nina, anya, and lorna, not to even mention peter, so we're just sticking with erik as the human and the twins as his kids. no, i can't add all his kids i'm too tired to work them into the plot.)

And everything's different there, and messy, and he finds himself a little intimidated, especially after wandering around and meeting weird people (let's just say he hit a bad spot of the city) and he's about to go home when he stumbles into a library. And it's a little bit like he's seen this library before, somewhere, in a dream... but also like it's his first time seeing this big, beautiful library, and obviously he's a nerd, so it's like a kid in a candy shop.

He's been roaming around the aisles and browsing through some of the books for hours, and then he gets kicked out because it's closing. And it's night. He finds himself walking around, and then stumbling into a fight...

well, not so much a fight -- more just one boy, getting beat up, by a few other boys. Older boys. Bigger boys. Well, bigger than the first boy. Not full grown adults with ken muscles. So, the ken intervenes -- first with his words, then with his fist. And he can't even think about how it hurt to hit those guy's faces when he's focused on comforting the first boy. A boy who... well, the ken almost feels like he knows him, somehow.

He says his name's Pietro, well, nobody calls him that, it's actually peter, and when asked what he's doing there at night he gets really quiet, then admits to the ken -- to... Charles -- that those boys told him to meet them there. That they were going to hang out, finally. That they'd be his friends if he just sucked it up and stopped being such a little wimp and snuck out tonight. So he did, and now his face is all messed up and he got blood on his jeans and his dad is going to be so mad-

Charles manages to calm him down, and he walks the boy home, fending off the creeps of the city because protecting peter has become his new main priority.

And when the door opens, he recognizes the man standing there, just like he recognized the library, just like he recognized peter. And he's not sure why, but he gets the feeling that maybe this is the person he's come to the real world to find.

The man, Erik Lehnsherr, as he introduces himself, is obviously livid, not at Charles, but at peter. He thanks Charles, though, in a very heartfelt manner -- he's so grateful that someone brought his boy back safe.

And then, like that, he says goodbye, and the door closes, and Charles doesn't know what to do. Erik's the person he's come here for, he's sure of that.

He gets himself a hotel room not too far away with weird barbie's credit card, and decides to try and figure it out tomorrow.

Meanwhile, after scolding Peter for sneaking out, cleaning up his face, promising to use his magical homemade stain-remover potion on his son's jeans, and sending the boy to bed, Erik finds himself unable to sleep. It's been like this for months now, really. Ever since the twins have gone to high school he's been feeling down and out.

He goes to his desk in his office, thinking that maybe he can get some work done if he's not going to sleep, and ends up pulling out that stupid ken doll that he saved from the donate bin wanda put out on the street three weeks ago.

When he played dolls with the twins when they were little, this was always the doll they made his doll marry. "dad's ken." Even back then, even when they were making the barbies fight to the death and launch air raid attacks on the legos, his kids didn't want him to be lonely.

Though now, as they're getting older, it's like they've forgotten how they all used to be friends. His friends. Wanda and peter are always fighting now, and peter's hanging out with jerks and sneaking out and getting low grades, and wanda has a boyfriend who seems perfectly nice but there's just got to be something wrong with him and erik worries she's gotten too caught up in all the drama and he's just the same as he's always been. They're growing up, and he can't help them, and sometimes it's like they're changing and growing and he's not -- he's just getting older.

(I'm going to make a side note here -- why the hell have i been typing a cherik barbie au for 45 minutes?? what has this fandom done to my brain???)

His thoughts turn, suddenly, to the kind stranger, Charles, who saved peter tonight. Brought him home safe.

He almost looked a little like the ken. brown hair, blue eyes. But then again, he was better -- he had freckles, too, and his eyes were even bluer than any painted-on blue could be, smart, too, and with that accent... Erik shakes his head, scolds himself for thinking those thoughts about a complete stranger, and forces himself to go to bed, hoping it will all be forgotten in the morning.

But then he sees Charles again. And again. And again.

Charles, at the library he frequents. Charles, at the coffee shop where he goes sometimes after the twins have gone to school. Charles, randomly, on the street, Charles, Charles, Charles.

Meanwhile, Charles -- because, yes, that fits better than ken ever did -- is having the time of his life exploring the human world. He's read so many books. He's eaten so many delicious new foods, and the coffee cups actually have liquid in them (disgusting liquid. He's found he prefers tea). He's found that he really needs a proper cellphone to exist, and goes out and gets one -- making an email with his new name. He finds that there are places he just instinctively recognizes, the way he did the library and erik and peter, and he explores those places -- and new ones, too.

Speaking of Erik; he sees him everywhere. Sometimes it's on purpose -- he does know that the man will frequent the spots he recognizes -- but a lot of the times, really, it's by complete accident.

They strike up a conversation at the library, about a book. Charles mentions that he's kind of new to LA and doesn't really know anyone yet, and Erik asks if he'd like to meet up with some friends of his for drinks sometime. Now, mind you, he has no clue the next time all of them will have an evening free, but the offer's there.

And then Charles asks if maybe, he'd like to sit at the same table together at the cafe tomorrow morning. They're both going. They may as well. Erik accepts, and Charles feels this strange fluttering feeling in his chest -- a little bit like how he'd felt about a few people back at home, but never with this intensity.

They have coffee. They have coffee twice, three times, five times. Ten. Every morning. Coffee turns into dinner, which turns into three dinners, which turns into dating.

Erik makes a joke a few times, about this ken doll that he stole from wanda, the one that they used to joke that he'd marry that looks just like him. And Charles feels that fluttering feeling again, because while Erik may not know it, he's that ken doll, and somehow the idea of having been married to this incredible man, even in a make-believe setting, is amazing.

Charles meets Wanda. Charles hangs out with her and peter and their dad. Charles moves in. Charles comforts a crying wanda when she breaks up with her boyfriend -- and much worse, her best friend is ghosting her too. Charles helps peter with his homework and talks with him about his friendship problems and his problems with his sister. Charles learns to cook, Erik laughing by his side in the kitchen as he burns eggs. Charles meets Erik's friends. Charles gets a teaching position at the nearby university (he found a way to use his barbieland credentials. I'm too tired to think up the specifics right now so that's all I'll say). Charles convinces Erik that he's still living and growing, too, just like his children. To be human is to change, constantly -- an idea he's becoming more and more familiar with as the days pass. While he thinks of his friends back in barbieland from time to time, this, what he has with erik, his new friends, even peter and wanda, this is more real than anything he's ever had before. He feels like a person. Maybe he is. All he knows is he wants to stay.

But, of course, eventually mattel realizes one of their dolls is on the loose in the real world again -- and this issue must be rectified as soon as possible, because, wow, look at what happened last time (they had to continue producing ken's mojo dojo casa houses because people wanted them so bad, even after the ken takeover was over). They notify the heads of their departments: keep a look out for british ken (probably not a thing but you know what we're making it a thing), brunette, blue eyes, on the shorter side, wearing cardigans, reading books.

Erik lehnsherr, head of the art department, gets... a little concerned.

Hadn't he been thinking that Charles was just like that ken?

Hadn't charles shown up right after he'd seen the doll for the first time in years, dug out of the back of wanda's closet (ha, he came out of the closet) to be donated?

Didn't he fit that exact description?

Well, how do you ask your boyfriend if he's a barbie doll?

And what do you do when he gets all quiet, and asks how you figured it out?

Mattel intervenes, obviously. Shit gets tense for a little while, but in the end... They realize it hasn't made an impact. Nobody back in barbie world is worried too much about one missing, discontinued ken. Not enough for it to effect either world.

Maybe it makes Charles a little sad, that his old friends seem to have forgotten about him. But what matters more is he gets to stay with the man he loves, the man who somehow still loves him back, the two messy, sometimes awful, amazing teenagers that he's come to love as though they're his own, and all the friends he's made.

They have a big-ass, glamorous wedding, curtesy of weird barbie's self-refilling credit card (yeah, they're pretty much infinitely rich now. they decide not to ruin the economy and just use it when they need it and make large donations to charities as much as they can.)

And that is what I thought of the entire time I watched barbie tonight.