#crack fic snippet

[tgmsunmontue]

Crack-ish snippet because it just hit me... Cyclone: It has come to my attention that some of you have entered... relationships with one another. Cyclone: Now due to this potentially impinging on your ability to be impartial in the air I just need to know who is and who isn't. Not who with. Cyclone: Everyone that is... involved with someone in this room please take a step forward. *As one the entire Dagger Squadron step forward with the exception of Maverick*

*Admiral Kazansky walks into the room* *Maverick steps forward* Maverick: Looks like my ride is here. *salutes them and leaves*

[ghost-bxrd]

Scrapped part from the JayTim spite fic that I judged a little too cracky but still wanted to share anyways 😂

[the-broken-pen]

Can you do a villian with owl characteristics

The hero landed on the rooftop, and then had to stifle an immediate shriek as the villain–well. Not…turned, exactly, from their place sat on the edge of the roof, just…looked backward. With that, unfortunately, all too familiar disconnect between their head and their body. 

“God, I hate it when you do that,” the hero managed, and the villain blinked their slightly too big eyes at them, before grinning. 

“I am aware,” the villain said, and despite how often the villain had done exactly this, turning their head far past the “normal head turn ability”, it still took the hero a second to readjust to the sight. 

“Why on earth do you do villainy when you could make so much money working in the haunted house industry,” the hero said, and the villain squinted at them.

“Because I don’t want to work in the haunted house industry.”

“You could be making a lot of money,” the hero said, and the villain’s mouth twitched.

“What, and you would know? In all your freetime, spent being a clown?”

“I do not spend my freetime being a clown, you little shit–”

“You give distinct clown energy,” the villain observed, and the hero was literally never going to get over this in their entire life–

Footsteps, light an airy, dropped onto the roof behind them, and the hero had to stop themself from pinching the bridge of their nose like an exhausted mother.

“I thought,” the hero grit out, more tired than angry, “I told you to wait over there.”

“Did you?” Their sidekick said, and the hero could hear the grin on their voice even before they appeared in front of them. “Can you cite your sources on that one, chief?”

“Cite my sources–no. No, I am not citing my sources, and I am not doing this right now. Go back over there,” they gestured towards a rather distant rooftop, and their sidekick emitted an impressive pout.

“You do give clown energy,” their sidekick said petulantly, and the hero felt their mouth drop open slightly.

Yeah. They were never going to recover from this one.

“So help me god, if you–”

Their sidekick let out something akin to the unholy baby of a gasp and a squeal, eyes wide as they stared at the villain. “Oh my god that is so cool.”

The villain was making that tiny little smile when the hero looked at them, verging on the edge of soft. The hero was not in the least bit surprised.

“Hello.”

“You have wings,” their sidekick whispered, voice hushed and drowning in awe. They took a single step forward, as if the villain had some kind of magnetic draw to them, pulling the hero’s sidekick in.

“I do,” the villain confirmed. “Do you want to see?”

The hero had never seen their sidekick move that fast in their life. 

“I should have left you home,” the hero sighed, and their sidekick shot them a look that could have drawn blood. The next second, the villain was taking the sidekick’s hand in theirs, guiding it gently over the feathers of their wing. Their sidekick was, appropriately, awed, and the hero was doing their very best to not look too put out by it.

I’m their favorite, the villain mouthed over the sidekick’s head, and the hero had to use all of their very strong and wonderful and saintly will-power to not punt the villain off the side of the building and then ground their sidekick for the next seven years.  

“You are way cooler than them,” the sidekick confided with absolutely zero effort to lower their voice in any shape or form. “Like, way, way cooler. It’s kind of impressive. You’re lapping them with your cool-ness.”

“You are a wretched child, and I disown you,” the hero said, and the sidekick grinned at them.

“No you don’t.”

“I am ordering the papers as soon as we get home.”

“What papers,” their sidekick said. “There were no papers in the first place. You basically kidnapped me, a poor, helpless little street orphan, and shoved me into this ridiculously colored supersuit to do all of your dirty work for you–”

“You are not a street orphan,” the hero said, exasperated, and the villain, goddamn them, was still smiling. “Your mother is a teacher and you live in a three story townhome on the north side. Also, I distinctly remember you picking those colors, and then forcing me to find and dye the fabric for it.”

Their sidekick squinted, somehow mimicking the villain perfectly, before shrugging. “Can’t prove it.”

“I will call your mother right now–”

“Oh, and tell her about the superhero escapades? Yeah, okay, boss, you get right on that.”

“If your mother hasn’t recognized you and your snotty little mouth on the news by now, there’s no helping her.”

“My mouth is not snotty.”

“What? Sorry, I can’t hear you. I’m actually unable to hear whining and sass, in case you were wondering.”

Their sidekick let out an outraged little squawk, with a look in their eye that definitely meant they were one second away from tackling the hero, before the villain, still grinning, intervened.

“You know, if you ever get tired of them, I could always use a sidekick.”

Their sidekick whipped around, before going very still. “Really?”

The villain nodded, and the hero raised a hand in an attempt to stop the possible catalyst of the end of the world from occurring. “Okay, there is absolutely no way they can be your sidekick. One, you’re literally evil, and two, they don’t even have wings.”

Their sidekick visibly deflated at the last part, blatantly human shoulders slumping.

“That can be fixed,” the villain said easily, and the hero hauled their sidekick backwards before they could volunteer themself as the next test subject in the villain’s secret and probably insane scientist laboratory. 

“You are not bioengineering and then grafting a set of wings onto their body,” the hero said firmly, arms full of a squirming and outraged sidekick, who let out a whine.

“Oh my god you are no fun. I take it back, I’m going to disown you.”

The villain laughed. 

“You can’t disown me, you are literally a child.”

“Emancipation is a thing,” the villain offered, and the hero shot them a look as their sidekick attempted, and succeeded, to elbow them in the face.

“You are not helping.”

“In what world would you think I was trying to be helpful to you? Just curious,” the villain said, blasely, and their sidekick laughed before kneeing the hero in the vague direction of a vital organ. 

“Ow. Okay, okay, look, I am so proud you’ve been paying attention in training, but can you please stop trying to do permanent damage to me and my organs? They don’t like that very much. Or at all. Fuck–” their sidekick managed another impressively well aimed hit and the hero promptly dropped them like a sack of potatoes onto the rooftop. Their sidekick, stunned, waited a moment, wide eyed as they blinked up at the hero.

The hero maybe, possibly, did not feel bad, and was also maybe, possibly, going to have bruises. 

“Did you just try to gentle parent me?”

“Did the dropping feel gentle?” The villain questioned, and the sidekick looked like they were trying to muster up tears and failing.

“Did you just drop me?”

The hero rubbed a hand over their brow. “Don’t attack my organs and I won’t drop you.”

“You picked me up!”

“And you tried to literally sell yourself to an evil scientist.”

“There was no selling involved,” the villain interjected, remaining undeterred by the hero’s glare. “I do not participate in human trafficking.”

The sidekick made a flailing sort of gesture. “See! No human trafficking. I’ll even sign a waiver!”

“They are a minor,” the hero hissed at the villain, who once more, shrugged. They looked like they were trying very hard to hide a laugh. “They cannot legally sign that. Do not make me suplex you.”

Their sidekick stilled. “Wait, I kind of want to see that. Keep talking.”

“No,” the hero reprimanded, and their sidekick rolled their eyes. “Absolutely not. Who raised you to be so violent?”

“You did,” their sidekick said, and this time, the villain failed to hide their laugh. Their wings ruffled with the motion, and their sidekick’s attention was immediately drawn back. A second later, the pout reappeared, and the hero sighed. 

“Fine,” the hero said, and something akin to manic glee began to shine on their sidekick’s face. “But,” the hero added, and their sidekick groaned, flopping backwards onto the roof. They covered their face with their hands as they groaned. “No experimentation until your eighteenth birthday. You have to ask your mother first. And no time traveling to your eighteenth birthday, no age potions, no begging your speedster friends to run you there, no time vortexes, no trying to gaslight me into thinking you’re eighteen, and absolutely no attempting to get your age changed in the eyes of the government.”

The villain’s brow raised perpetually higher, while the sidekicked simply groaned again. “You never let me have any fun, you’re the worst, the absolute worst, nobody has ever suffered as much as I am right now–”

“I think you covered all of the bases,” the villain said, looking faintly impressed. 

“This is not the first time something like this has happened,” the hero said dryly. “Please do not give my sidekick wings.”

The villain eyed the hero’s sidekick, who was still moping rather dramatically on the ground. “I dunno. I’m kind of wondering what they’ll come up with to make it happen before their eighteenth birthday. And if they do manage it I kind of feel like that means they earned it.”

“Villain,” the hero hissed, and the villain simply laughed, popping their legs back over the edge of the roof and brushing off their legs as they stood up. 

“Oh, relax,” they murmured when they got close enough. “I would never. But you have to encourage children’s dreams, even if you don’t think they’ll happen. Or, at least, you won’t let them happen. It’s good for their development.”

“That,” the hero said pointedly, towards where their sidekick was throwing a tiny tantrum on the ground still. “Is not a child. That is a moody teenager who needs to work off some issues in their school drama program. Do not encourage them.”

The villain paused for a moment, considering. “Nah. I’m going to encourage them.”

The hero groaned, shifting to drop their head onto the villain’s shoulder. The villain’s wing came around to give them a gentle pat on the shoulder. “There there. Parenthood is hard.”

“I am not a parent.”

“Your creature has imprinted on you like a baby duck. Best of luck with that.”

“I am not a creature,” their sidekick protested from the ground. “I am a critter or eldritch horror at best.”

“Exactly what a creature would say,” the hero sighed, head still slumped onto the villain’s shoulder, and their sidekick let out a wordless shriek of rage from the ground. 

The hero allowed themself one more moment spent half wrapped in the villain’s wing before pushing themself off. They grabbed the center of their sidekick’s super suit, hoisting them onto their feet. “Alright, up you get. I’m calling it for tonight.”

Their sidekick kicked them in the shin. The hero simply looked at them. “Spoilsport.”

“You have a math test tomorrow. If you fail that because you didn’t sleep well your mother will literally skin me alive. Go on. Tell me she wouldn’t.”

The sidekick sighed. “Okay she totally would but also–”

“Nope. That was a complete sentence.”

Their sidekick was not bothered. “--Teenagers don’t even sleep anyways, so really, you’re fighting for nothing.”

“You took a four hour nap on my balcony yesterday,” the hero said, and their sidekick glared at them.

“Napping is not sleeping. It’s an entirely different thing. Like, it’s a vacation. Sleep is if I moved there, to another state or whatever. Dimension, Ohio, doesn’t matter. A nap is like a quick little visit and a pop back.”

The hero stared. “You are speaking a language I don’t understand.”

The villain barked a laugh. The hero watched their sidekick preen slightly, and vowed to murder the villain at the first opportune moment.

“That is absolutely enough out of you,” the hero said, then pointed a finger at their sidekick before they could say exactly what the hero knew they were about to. “Do not start reciting the First Amendment to me, you little heathen, do you know how many laws you break on the daily?”

“Vigilantism is illegal,” their sidekick said. The hero’s face must have done something truly horrific and parental in nature, because their sidekick winced, and, wisely, shut up. 

“I pinkie promise to do no more crime tonight,” the villain said helpfully, and the hero didn’t bother to turn around. 

“You’re a terrible liar.”

“Maybe, but did it make you feel better?”

The hero hauled their sidekick up onto their shoulder, ignoring the attempted fatal moves their sidekick immediately began cycling through.

“Actually, kind of. So. Thank you for that. Now, I’m going to go drop this thing off at home–”

“I have a name!”

“And possibly apologize to their mother,” the hero finished. The villain simply nodded, like that was the perfectly natural thing to do. 

The villain watched the hero’s sidekick for a moment, before allowing a tiny smirk to play at the corners of their mouth. They’re like a baby you, the villain mouthed once more. 

“Never say that to me again,” the hero warned, but secretly, it made them feel a tiny bit warm. Yes, this is my heathen child creature, and I love them very dearly and want to drop them off a building.

Their sidekick attempted to rear their head around to see the villain, and failed spectacularly. “Wait, what did they say? Hero. What did they say, I want to know, hero, hero,” the sidekick began, and the villain watched, eyes luminous in the black, as the hero slid back into the darkness of the night, their sidekick’s voice fading all the while.

“Hero!,” the sidekick shrieked again. And the villain grinned.

[steviewashere]

Another little WIP Snippet, except this time it's from the start of my second part in my text fic universe. Things get a little meta and a little wild all in one.

CW: Referenced Omegaverse/Aspects of Omegaverse (this is not an omegaverse fic though)

————— Eddie: stevie i’m gonna write fan fic about us <33

Steve: Do I wanna know what fanfic is?

Eddie: for the sake of my brain I need you to just pretend to know..ok?

Steve: Fine. Sure. Whatever.

Steve: So…are you writing about us going to see a movie or something?

Seen less than 1 minute ago

Eddie: mmmmm or something………

Steve: Oh god, what are you doing?

Eddie: sex :3

Eddie: animal style :D

Seen 5 minutes ago

Eddie: do you think you’re more alpha or omega or a beta???

Eddie: this is important information to me

Eddie: I need you to respond now

Steve: Isn’t that alpha stuff just stupid shit that conservative cucks argue about online?

Steve: Where they try to compare themself to Patrick Bateman as if that’s a good thing?

Eddie: …yes…but that’s not what I’m talking about right now.

Eddie: basically do you think youre more

Eddie: …actually

Eddie: don’t answer any of my questions right now I’m taking this into my own hands

Steve: I think I just felt a disturbance in the force. What the fuck are you about to do to me?

Eddie: well you want six kids somehow

Seen less than 1 minute ago

Steve: Eddie…

Eddie: :3

Eddie: youre gonna be bouncing on my knot

Steve: What the fuck does THAT mean?

Eddie: shhhhhhh….daddy says that kitten doesn’t need to worry about that right meow

Steve: Don’t call me that.

Steve: Also. If anybody’s any sort of daddy in this relationship it’s me and I think you know that.

Steve: Also also. You saying that pun gave me the ick.

Seen less than 1 minute ago

Eddie: Who the fuck taught you what the ick means?

Eddie: I’ve never heard you say those series of words ever. In my life. You have never. And I mean never. Said that to me ever.

Eddie: Are you online?

Eddie: Are you lurking somewhere online?

Seen less than 1 minute ago

Steve: …

Steve: Robin forced me to download TikTok.

Steve: The shopping menu is bullshit and super invasive.

Steve: But also people on there are funny.

Steve: And also there’s people on there who share facts about praying mantises and sharks and I didn’t know I could learn so many facts, but I’m having the time of my life. Did you know that hammerheads go hunting by themselves? So, because they’re carnivores, they hunt down other sea wildlife. And they can dig through the sand on the ocean floor to find stingrays to eat. Also, great hammerheads—which is what I’ve been talking about—they have pups once every two years or something and can have, like, fifty of them in one litter! Live pups, too! Not eggs! They don’t lay eggs like other fish do, like clown fish, you know? Isn’t that crazy?! That’s crazy!

Steve: Well…smooth hammerheads have up to fifty, last I heard. Great hammerheads can have, like, up to forty-two. But that’s still a crazy number!

Steve: Imagine having that many children at once?

Steve: I can’t even handle the seven I accidentally picked up over the last few years! They’re not even my children!

Seen just now

Eddie: can you come home from the gym and talk more shark facts with me

Eddie: I love when you talk about sharks

Steve: You should make me talk about shark facts in that fanfic thing of yours.

Eddie: come home and give me an in person example of you talking about sharks. I wanna get the gleam in your eyes when I write about you.

Steve: Okay ❤️

Eddie: I love you so fucking much

Steve: I love you too

Delivered 10 minutes ago

Steve: Also, I looked up what you were asking me.

Steve: You should make both of us alphas. And then you should…hold on I have to look it up again.

Steve: You should “bitch” me. Wow, that sounds really derogatory. Is that derogatory? Side note, how many feminists do you think are into this omegaverse stuff? Do they “get the ick” when reading about bitching or is it like a secretly sexy thing to them that they’re too ashamed to admit out loud?

Steve: Okay, I’m reading some…some Arcane Jayce/Viktor thing on my phone right now and I think you should definitely still “bitch” me. The way this bitching thing works changes so much from story to story, I don’t even know what’s lore accurate to the omegaverse or what’s just people’s kinks taking on new shape.

Steve: But you should do it me on, like, accident. And I should be kinda mad at first, but then I realize that I love the new version of myself. Like so much more than I loved my previous self. And that I am happier in my new body and stuff. And you should delicately eat me out because you’re still nervous about fucking up with me, but then I yank you by the hair and make you choke on my “slick”—why is it called that; I don’t think I like that part very much, but whatever. And I’m all euphoric and shit.

Steve: And then I have a pussy like I was destined to have.

Steve: Okay, some of this stuff is so cool. Also, there’s some depressing stuff in this ship’s tag.

Seen just now

Eddie: got a boner too fast. Nosebleed.

Eddie: also. babe, I think you might have something to work through, maybe.

Eddie: and also I feel like I just created a monster. are you reading fics right now instead of coming home?

Steve: I’m eating a cheesy Gordita crunch in my car while reading and sipping on my large ass Baja blast. So…yeah, I guess.

Steve: I’ll be done soon, though. It’ll be fine.

Delivered 2 hours ago

Eddie: so are you coming home now?? do I need to report you missing???

Steve: Do NOT read the playlist jayvik fic. Do not do it. Oh my god. I’m gonna throw up from crying I am not okay right now.

Eddie: oh no you discovered it

Eddie: just…just get yourself calmed and come home when you can please don’t drive with tears in your eyes I don’t need you dying

Delivered just now

Steve: You are not allowed to kill either of us in your fanfic.

Steve: But I still want you to do that bitching thing.

Steve: Please.

Eddie: I don’t wanna push you in any sort of way…but do you think that we should maybe have a conversation about why you’re so fascinated with that part?? It’s starting to not sound like a kink.

Eddie: in fact, I feel like I have it on good authority that this wasn’t a kink to start with.

Steve: Maybe, but I’ve gotta focus on driving now, so I’m not worried about any of that stuff right now. Bringing you a Doritos taco. And your piss colored Mtn Dew.

Steve: You should suck my dick when I get home to make me feel better.

Steve: After you eat and brush your teeth, though. I don’t need nacho cheese powder on my dick.

Delivered just now

—————

[theonceandfuturequeenoftarts]

Harry is at a Quidditch game, and he’s having a dreadful time. There should be some universal rule that negates this possibility. It’s Quidditch, he’s Harry – it’s the perfect pairing. He should be watching the Wimbourne Wasps crush the Ballycastle Bats and munching on some delightful treacle Sugar Sweeps while enjoying his first date in months.

Except they only have the licorice-flavoured Sugar Sweeps.

Except his team is losing horrendously.

Except his date – Jeanine, or Jeannie; something with a J – is more interested in flirting with anyone other than him. She’d tried to catch the eye of the unfairly attractive man sitting on Harry’s other side for a good twenty minutes. When she made no progress, her attention shifted to orchestrating a threesome with her friend and Draco. Rude.

(And no matter how far they’ve come from the bitter rivalry of their youth, Harry still hates to lose to Mal– Draco. He’d feel worse about that if the other man didn’t feel the exact same way – and if the prat looked less bloody smug.)

This is the last time he lets the blond convince him to go on a blind double-date. Merlin, what was he thinking when he agreed to this?

The Wasps call a timeout to discuss strategy (not that it’s likely to help at this point) and that’s when the worst of it happens. Some genius decided Quidditch needed a kiss cam for the slower moments of a match. If Harry ever finds out who, he’s going to hex their toes off.

That’s the thought that runs through his mind as he sees himself and Jacqueline on each of the floating screens bobbing around the Quidditch stadium.

His eyes slide helplessly to the side, where Jasmine is already inching away from him. This is so bloody embarrassing. He can feel his cheeks redden in mortification and is sure his deer-in-the-headlights expression will be immortalised in tomorrow’s Daily Prophet.

He sure wishes he had a time turner – he’d go back to this morning and stay in bed the whole day.

He can hear laughter breaking out from the other spectators the longer the camera lingers on him. Why haven’t they moved on to another pair? Or at the very least shifted three feet to the right; Harry’s certain Jolene and her friend or Draco (or hell, all three, why not) would be happy to give the viewers a show.

And then he feels a tap on his left shoulder. 

It’s not that he’d forgotten about the extremely hot man sitting to his left. But the reminder of the human perfection to his side while this debacle unfolds kind of makes him want to stand up and leave. Or blow something up.

He turns to Mr. Sex-on-Legs and smiles weakly. The man returns his smile, and while it’s a little sharp, it’s not mocking. Hurray for small mercies.

“May I?” Unreasonably Handsome Stranger asks.

“Uh,” Harry replies eloquently. May he what? Harry swiftly decides he doesn’t need more details. This man could be asking for his kidney and as long as it makes this whole situation less painful, Harry’s on board. “Sure…?”

Unreasonably Handsome Stranger tilts Harry’s face up and swoops in. Harry can’t stop the confused squeak from leaving him – so much for less shameful – and then he’s being kissed within an inch of his life. Holy shite.

This is awesome.

Harry kind of forgets why this man is kissing him and what’s going on around him, because it doesn’t matter. The most gorgeous person he’s ever seen in real life is pressing his lips against Harry’s with intent, with skill – is that his tongue? All higher brain functions have ceased in order to enjoy this moment to the fullest.

When they finally pull back for air, Harry finds his hands are gripping the man’s collar and holding him close. He figures that’s fine, considering the man has one hand wound through Harry’s hair and the other is still cupping his jaw.

“Wow,” Harry breathes, brain still taking a break from thinking. The other man smirks knowingly at him, and Harry would probably take offence to that if the man’s perfectly formed cheekbones weren’t flushed pink, showing he’s not as unaffected as he might pretend to be.

“Er. I’m Harry.”

“Tom.”

“Nice to meet you, Tom.”

This makes Smokin' Hot Tom chuckle, which in turn makes his eyes crinkle up adorably. Oh bother – Harry might be in trouble.

He’s aware, peripherally, that someone behind him is aggressively clearing their throat. He only bothers to care about it when Tom shoots an unimpressed look at the source of the noise.

When Harry turns to follow Tom’s gaze, he comes face to face with an irate Julienne, her glaring friend, and Draco, who can’t seem to decide whether he’s impressed or pissed off.

He shrugs, grinning dopily. “It just isn’t going to work out, Josephine.”

She gives him a baleful look. “My name is Petra.”

Whoops. Not even close. “Sorry – Petra. Have fun with Draco and …your friend.”

He sends a teasing salute to Draco and starts dragging Tom towards the exit. Speaking of having fun – he’s sure they can find an alcove somewhere around here to continue what Tom started.

—

Harry’s picture is indeed in the Prophet the next day. But he supposes that’s only to be expected when he’s caught publicly snogging the visiting ambassador from the French Ministry of Magic.

[not-even-here-iaminvisible]

Time Travels fix it crack fic idea:

-Vader and Ben Kenobi travel back in time,

-as in old men Ben, with a bad knee and returned Vader as in 'can't survive without suit' suddenly appear during the clone wars.

-Luke was so kind and repaired Vader's body and made him a new suit. (Not a torture chamber disguised as armor, just a life support suit with ~flair~)

-Vader has a few choices of ~words~ with the sepis and he is VERY happy about his new mobility

-Ben is just happy that his Padawan is back by his side now

-Vader stomps into Sidous office and kills him (There is a reason why Papelfuck made the torture suit) (Ben is sad that he didn't get to do it.)

-To the horror of the Jedi order, Vader switches between the Light and Dark side of the force as if he is simply switching weapons, which he is for the record!

-Ben would like everyone to leave his not-so-young-Padawan alone, he returned to the light! So who cares if he uses darksider powers

-Ben is VERY proud of how strong Vader turned out, especially because he stopped killing people with it.

-Everyone is horrified by Vader's casual use of the force, he lived in a stiff ass suit, he needed the force as a medical aid, now he is used to that. So yes he will continue to use it, shut it

-Ben joined once he realized, that he won't be hunted for using the force now. (He now has tea floating behind him where ever he goes :) )

-Ben and Vader are WAY TO casual about the happenings of the next few years (WTF happened ??? Senior General's?! Why are you snorting when Windu says Window??? ) and they refuse to elaborate. Everyone is dying of curiosity and horror.

-Ben appears before Dooku and talks with him (Help his grandpadawan is his age now!)

-Vader cleans 10 years worth of darksider mind fuckery out of Skywalkers Brain (Jedi order is HORRIFIED at the amount)

-also he just Yoinks the chips out of clones heads, very painful but quick. (who is gonna stop him)

-Vader walks across battlefields and every droid is Scrap, without stopping. Everyone stares, Ben is SO Proud!

-OR: Vader goes feral over twenty years in the past and Kenobi is just there for the ride (with popcorn and cryptic wisdom)

[louisplumpyass]

✩ moodboard/poster and story summary of my (own) prompt for @bottom-harry-ficfest <3 can't wait to share with you all my beloved chief!louis and civilian!harry novella in april 2025 <3

[sleepyking]

This went very quickly from another silly and fluffy cat!Rumi short to ANGST TRAUMA CHILDHOOD ISSUES

Anyways uhhhh here’s a lil bit

It went from this ↑

To this ↑

[marilinhazz]

I've been bedridden dying from food poisoning and writing fluff and horny prosenna all day so here's a snippet of the prosenna prost gp!au

“And now that I'm your boss, you’ll have to do as I say,” Alain grinned, a repressed laughter making its way into his words. Ayrton felt each one of them rushing his blood to his cheeks, to the tips of his ears and right to the middle of his legs —  “Uh,” he gulped and lowered his head, blinking at the ground. His mouth felt suddenly dry and he wet his lips. “I suppose so.”  Alain frowned, staring at how Ayrton’s curls didn't quite bounce where they were shorter, right at the scar on his forehead, when Ayrton ran his hand through them.  “Ayrton,” Alain got closer and Ayrton’s hands resting on top of his thighs started to sweat, as if by the command of Alain’s voice. He tried to wipe them on his blue and white overall, mortified by how the tight suit didn't hide much.  “Yes?”  “Look at me.”  Ayrton just clasped his hands in front of the half hard tent in his pants, the tips of his ears burning by now. He didn't look at Alain, wouldn't dare to like this. Not now, when the race was about to start and he needed to get out there, drive that car — Alain’s car — to the chequered flag and get Alain his points and victory just so he could flash that smile of his at Ayrton again.  Alain, however, despite being Ayrton's team principal, decided to take a dare of his own. His fingers, less calloused after retirement, raised Ayrton’s chin so he could look him in the eye, take in his dark and wide pupils and red cheeks and, after lowering his gaze a bit more, what was barely concealed by Ayrton's hands.  “You like that,” Alain whispered, tone flat with unchangeable truth. Ayrton could only close his eyes and nod, teeth chewing on his bottom lip.

[fluffy-bacon363]

Cherik kill the president

Don't take this seriously they are actually talking about a completely fictional president called Strump.

I don't know why I wrote this tbh. It's more crack than anything.

[wikiangela]

fuck it friday

tagged by @tizniz @bidisasterbuckdiaz @honestlydarkprincess 💖💖

still on my bucktommy bs, I'll be back to buddie but i'm too obsessed with tommy/lou to think about anything else rn lol

so here's a bit of something short I'm wiriting for 7x05 from tommy's pov, idk what this is, what it's gonna be, but I wanna finish it tonight or maybe by the end of the weekend so posting it here to motivate myself and also tell me what y'all think bc the more i reread all of it the more i doubt myself lol

___

It took him some time, plus a lot of self-reflection and just taking it one step at a time, letting himself look at other men, this time consciously and sometimes deliberately, noticing how hot they are, how they make him feel. He let himself feel how they make him feel. It took a minute to stop feeling guilty and ashamed, and to rework all those internalized prejudices that had been ingrained in him his whole life.

He gave himself time, a lot of time, started with just chatting with guys on dating apps, later got the courage for some casual dates, and when he met the man who would be his first actual boyfriend, his first gay relationship, that he genuinely liked, he felt ready to pursue that. It didn’t work out then, that’s just life, but it was a good relationship, because he was ready for it. Now he feels settled and comfortable with himself, feels confident, and knows what he wants. And he wants- he wants love. He doesn’t want to put any pressure on any relationship he might start, but ultimately, that’s the goal. Love. 

He really doesn’t mind being this first to Evan. He likes Evan. He has those bright blue eyes that seem to shine their own light, and that wide, excited smile that makes it impossible not to smile back, with that adorable dimple accompanying it, that makes Tommy melt a little every time he sees it. Plus, those perfect, kissable lips he can’t wait to taste again, and the distinctive birthmark just adding to the charm. And he’s big and strong and so hot, too. And he’s just so nice, and so adorable and endearing, and he’s so easy to talk to. Tommy just wants to keep getting to know him, spend time with him, develop this relationship and see where it can go. And with any luck, maybe this one could last, could be something real.

The thing is, Tommy is ready for serious. He can take it slow, give Evan time to figure everything out, but he’d also like to know where he stands. He would never want to pressure him to come out before he’s ready, but he also knows he doesn’t want to be anyone’s dirty little secret. Been there, done that.

Still, he would be fine with keeping it just to him and Evan for now, for as long as Evan needs. But then…

___

no pressure tags: @elvensorceress @thebravebitch @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @watchyourbuck @eowon @loserdiaz @evanbegins @ladydorian05 @wildlife4life @diazpatcher @lover-of-mine @monsterrae1 @thewolvesof1998 @neverevan @weewootruck @loveyouanyway @spagheddiediaz @rainbow-nerdss @epicbuddieficrecs @pirrusstuff @spotsandsocks @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @nmcggg @rogerzsteven @giddyupbuck @sunshinediaz @underwater-ninja-13 @exhuastedpigeon @911-on-abc @jesuisici33 @steadfastsaturnsrings @theotherbuckley @buddieswhvre @dangerpronebuddie @diazsdimples @fortheloveofbuddie @hoodie-buck @your-catfish-friend @hippolotamus @daffi-990

[gasps-inspanish]

A snippet from the YJ Christmas thing I wrote in December! It’s basically how the YJ Santa thing happens in my AU, but I can’t post it yet because it has spoilers for my AU!

“We should go,” Kon said, hopping into the front seat of Supercycle where he usually sat. “We have things to do people! Weird space stuff isn’t gonna stop for chit chat”!

Robin frowned but climbed into his usual spot on Super Cycle, so the others did the same. Bart would snoop later! It felt like an after Christmas activity.

They got to the coordinates and saw what looked like a meteor heading towards them.

“Oh easy peasy! We’ll just like, blast it out of the sky!” Bart said. “We’re over the ocean so no property damage or anything”!

Then he could go home!

“Problem” Cassie said and Bart almost threw something, not that he had anything to throw. Maybe Kon? She pushed back one of the headphones she was wearing that was connected to some kind of device that Robin had given her. Bart could probably figure out what it was but he was more focused on getting home as fast as possible. “It’s talking to me”.

“Oh” Cissie said. “What is it uh, saying”?

[ghost-bxrd]

Stony silence rings from the other end of the line, but Jason knows Bruce is listening. Listening and running through several possibilities of how someone could have gotten this number while simultaneously tracking the call signal.

This is gonna be fucking gold.

Time to sell it.

“Dad,” he sobs, pitching his voice until it breaks, teeth chattering exaggeratedly, “Dad, please, I’m scared, I-“ Jason cuts himself off with a scream and another series of sobs, “Please, I can’t— it’s locked! Please, no, Dad, it’s locked—“

A sharp intake of breath, the dull thump of something heavy colliding unexpectedly.

“Dad!” Jason cries, calling upon every single drama class he’s ever had, “Please… please- it’s almost to zero- please, I’m sorry, please, please, it hurts so much-“

Bruce breaks.

“Jason, Jason, hold on Jaylad, hold on, I will find-“

Jason smashes the phone against the marble dress of the creepy angel standing guard over his grave. The pieces vanish into the wet grass, like an occult offering eaten by Gotham’s soil.

Then Jason turns and walks away with a gleeful little smile.

But not without flipping the stupid angel off one last time.

— Grave Pretender sneak peek

[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.

[star4daisy]

writing snippet

thx for tagging me @214lilacsky here's a lil unedited snippet from the rosekiller sexuality crisis fic that I might post today heheh

Kissing had never felt like this before. Barty wasn’t sure if it was because it was a man or because it was Evan, but he knew he needed more. He needed to stand closer, pressing their bodies together until he could feel all of Evan against him, kissing him with so much passion he had to take a step back, Barty walked with him, trying to brand himself against his skin. He craved Evan's touch. Nothing he did felt like enough. Barty could have stripped them of their shirts in the middle of the party so he could feel Evan’s chest against his and still, they wouldn’t have been close enough to satisfy him. He feared nothing would. “Damn, they’re really going at it, aren't they?” Potter sounded surprised.

np tags: @fromagony @sanguineerose @jamespottersmixtape @curly-chip @sommerregenjuniluft @jaylienpotter @starchaser-lily @orchideous-nox

[theonceandfuturequeenoftarts]

If someone were to ask Harry what he thinks about his body, the honest reply is that he doesn’t. He spent most of his childhood ignoring the needs of his body, which he couldn’t meet thanks to the deprivations enacted by the Dursleys. It was easier to just shut down and go numb, disregarding the gnawing hunger, the absence of affection, the tight, enclosed spaces into which he was expected to disappear.

Being suddenly confronted with mirrors that spoke forced him to confront his reflection after a decade of not looking – because what good could come of looking? He could feel the black eyes his cousin gave him; he didn’t need to see them, too. 

Gazing into the mirror on one of his first days at Hogwarts, he noted his overly sharp cheekbones, his visible ribs, his collection of scars from cooking, cleaning, gardening, and Harry-hunting since he could reach the counter while standing on a stepstool. He wasn’t sure if other people couldn’t see him as he did, or if they were so caught up in look-just-like-your-father-except-your-mother’s-eyes that the reality of his appearance ceased to be important. In any case, he decided he’d been right not to look and continued on as he had done before.

Well, he thinks faintly. He’s looking now.

Proper nutrition for ten months out of twelve, quidditch, and regularly fighting for his life have allowed his body to fill out a bit and develop some solid muscle. He’ll never be bulky, but he’s no longer the emaciated waif he was at eleven. 

The garment skims along his body from shoulder to thigh in the front, with the neckline plunging to rest just above the line of his hips. The lace clings to his form in such a way as to give the illusion of slight curves which he definitely doesn’t have. It softens the angles of his lean musculature just enough to keep him from feeling ridiculous. He adjusts the line of his cock so it’s not quite tucked between his legs, but it’s also not jutting obscenely to the front or out the side.

Well.

He turns to look at his backside in the mirror, noticing that the panty line cuts across the cheek, making his arse look more ample than it really is. He tugs futilely at the edge in a bid for more coverage, but he only succeeds in snapping the elastic against his skin, his face warming from the sensation.

The look of his bare back leading down to the lace covering his arse is titillating, and his face flushes further, mouth suddenly dry.

His reflection in the mirror gives a long whistle. “Lookin' good, sweet cheeks.”

He sputters and turns back to glare at the piece of furniture, though he finds himself sidetracked by his appearance once again. He glides his hands down the front of the bodysuit, following the motion in the mirror.

And Harry is suddenly aware he’s not alone in his head.

Voldemort gives himself away with a momentary but notable mess of garbled emotions and thoughts echoing through the bond into Harry’s mind before a conspicuous silence takes over.

Harry spins away from the mirror to cut off the view of his lace-wrapped body, mortified. His panicked mind must put up some defence, or Voldemort is appalled to see his mortal enemy in lingerie, because his mind is once again empty and his own a moment later.

Fucking hell.

(Feel so damn, um, pretty)