#drop the fic name

[hellcifrogs]

All this talk about the uzumaki clan power reminds me of these two fanfictions I read where the Uzumaki clan was still around. In one, every member of the clan has a kekkei genkai (some examples being iron release, Shikotsumyaku/Dead Bone Pulse, and the Kurama Clan's Kekkei Genkai) and they even had filler arc characters as uzumaki like Idate, Ranmaru, and Yakumo. Another fic gave the uzumaki an original kekkei genkai called the either the shell eye or turtle eye that let the user control water and ice and was given to them by Genbu the black turtle.

You gotta give the names!!

[haunting-hufflepuffs-basement]

Genuinely one of my favorite things about the maruaders fandom that is widely agreed upon:

Regulus is trans. Everyone assumes Remus is trans because werewolf behavior can look suspiciously similar to having a period. Shenanigans ensue:

*During 1st Year*

Sirius: *discreetly giving Remus chocolate during his time of the month*

Remus, in his head: HOW DOES HE KNOW? HOW DOES HE KNOW I'M A WEREWOLF? HOW DOES HE KNOW CHOCOLATE HELPS? WHY IS HE NOT SAYING ANYTHING? WHAT IS HAPPENING?

*Quidditch Locker Room*

Marlene: FUCK!

Sirius: What's wrong?

Marlene: I started my period and don't have anything on me!

James, who started carrying extras because he's a mom friend: Oh, here you go.

Marlene: *intensely stares at them* Okay if James carries the tampons and Remus is the one who uses them, why the FUCK is Sirius named Pads???

James: I. . .what?

Sirius: Abort Prongs. There's no right answer to this one.

*During a Study Session*

Regulus: Ugh, I'm so jealous of you sometimes Lupin.

Remus "Low Self-Esteem" Lupin: Why?

Reg: It's just that. . .well, if your mood is any indication, your time of the month is so CONSISTENT! Like, every 28 days like clockwork. You've never had 2 in one month or anything!

Remus, in his head: . . .is. . .is Regulus a werewolf too? Is this how Sirius was so accepting?

Remus out loud: You get it TWICE sometimes, how is that even possible?

Reg: I know right, it's so unfair!

Regulus: . . .

Peter: . . .

Regulus: So is there a REASON you've been stalking me or---

Peter: Are you a werewolf?

Reg: The fuck? No? Why---

Peter: KAY THANKS BYE!

*later*

Remus: oh my God Peter I didn't mean ASK HIM

Peter: Well how the fuck else was I supposed to find out?

Everyone start milking the comedy potential, or I'll have to write it myself! This is a threat! There's enough angst in this fandom, we need more pure comedy fics!

[shiiro-arts]

Me when Nalu "one has a fever" fanfics (doesn't matter who's the sick one)

Me when Nalu "period cramps" fanfics

Me when Nalu "cooking for each other" fanfics

Me when Nalu fanfics

[post-it-notes7]

Please tell me this will be a happy ending

dearest anon, only time will tell

[peacockrulz]

juzi for the juzi nation maybe? just read hostile takeover by snugglesquiggle and it gave me fatal juzi disease

Thanks now I'm infected!!! (also bonus doodle under the cut)

(requests are still open!)

This is seriously the first time I've drawn juzi??? I need to fix that.

[ketaundkrawall]

Starboy Interlude (I’m obsessed with these!!)

[aris-has-a-paracosm]

Some more android Jimmy and cyborg Tango from my sci-fi dystopian au! I’m having entirely too much fun with this concept, and I’m so excited to share it! (First chapter drops very soon 👀)

[i-suc-at-art]

Ummm.. I really love this fic

*hands @basilf1res this gently*

Any ways go read project “GH05T” it’s really good :)

[chiropteracupola]

granby + iskierka + keynes

[lullaebies]

For Aegon III/Jaehaera's requests: Aegon being nervous because Haera is having their first child and heir after a decade.

He can hear her screams of pain from behind the doors of their shared chambers.

He starts to pray the gods, despite Baela and Viserys' tentative reassurances then Haera calls for him and Aegon's feets lead him in front of the doors; the guards try to stop him and he orders them to not touch him.

They woke the dragon and the dragon will be protective of his mate and hatchlings.

When he enters, he is quick to be by Jaehaera's side

"My king you shouldn't-"

"I can and I will"

They had their baby boy🥺 and you bet that Aegon cries for the first time out of happiness, then Haera is there like: "Give him to me! he's mine!"

And doesn't allow anyone to touch their baby and you vet Aegon will wash his baby boy, much to the horror and amusement of the masters, midwives and Aegon's siblings

Aegon paces around the hallway in an attempt to calm down. He has been banned from his bedchambers for the better of half an hour now.  The Grand Maester and his accompanying midwives have tended his wife as she gave birth to her firstborn; their firstborn.

He is not a religious man, by any means of the word, but he prays under his breath. The gods had long forsaken him, laughing as they planted him on a throne of swords that had cost him nearby everything. But his wife had a woman of more faith, despite all she had been through herself. If the Seven are true to them, they would protect her.

Aegon hopes so, begs so, his stomach turning up and down. The toll of the birthing is clearly heard beyond the doors that separate them. Jaehaera is eight and ten, and they both grew plenty since their wedding, but she has remained a smaller woman to this day. Her pregnant belly had been big for her frame, he can’t help the dark thoughts his mind leads him to.

“You are going to have to breathe, dear brother,” Viserys tells him. “Births do not ever sound pleasant. This is a fact of life.”

Yet they never sounded so difficult for Larra, either, he wants to say, but he only frowns. If it wasn’t for the fact Lady Larra Rogare had left court a year prior, he may have said it aloud. Little Aegon, Aemon, and Naerys were left alone with only their father. The pit in Aegon’s stomach grows exponentially. This is a possibility, for Aegon too, and he had never trusted his odds.

Baela takes him by the shoulder. If it wasn’t his sister, he may very well flung that hand away. “You are going to look more dreadful than your wife when she gets out of that room,” she says straight to his face. “Calm down. I have done as much twice. Rhaena had done so six times. Your little wife will manage, she’s resilient, for all it’s worth.”

She’s neither you nor Rhaena. Resilient Jaehaera had been, but it hasn’t been without struggles. Aegon doubts she had ever said as much to anyone else but him, but this court had been a lonely place for her besides for him. She’s been changing it, step by step, and now labouring to change it definitively, but how alone must she feel in that room? 

Another pained wail comes from within the room. I can’t take it anymore.

“I am entering,” he finally says, escaping his sister’s grip. There are protests from all sides when he steps away from his siblings and to his Kingsguards. The bumbling fools in their white capes move to not allow him to enter, citing the instructions of the Maester, but he glares them down. He’s a full head taller than both, with a crown on his head. He has abandoned the days the Keep could rule him when he fired Lord Torrhen Manderly. “You serve the maester or the King, now? Move aside, or else.” 

The doors to the room open for him while Jaehaera is pushing, forehead wrinkled and sweatied as she does. All her attendants turn to him, but he ignores them and their words entirely.  Aegon only needs a few long steps to reach his wife, sitting beside her on their very bed. 

Jaehaera lifts her eyes to him, panting as he wipes her forehead and moves silver strands from her red-hued face. Grand Maester Munkun swallows as he moves to him. “Your Grace, you shouldn’t like to stay. Births are stressful occasions—”

Aegon does not listen to a thing the man says. “Aegon,” Jaehaera pants, fingers coming to clutch his sleeve. He gives her his full palm to squeeze. 

“—To both parents…” The Grand Maester slowly falters in his words.

“As I’ve noted,” Aegon answers, cutthroat. “I can stay and I will. Now mind your Queen before I find someone who does.”

The old man gulps in response, and scurries to his seat at the edge of the bed nodding. Aegon fixes the pillows under his wife’s head. The calls to push are difficult on his wife for a while, and he feels her using all her strength, the squeeze on his hand a testament to all her efforts.

Their child’s cradle is ready, standing by the window and illuminated by the sun. So many blankets woven for a child not yet born are laid within. Jaehaera had been waiting on the babe for so long, talking to her belly at times even, hoping the little one would hear. 

In comparison, Aegon had been almost afraid. He had worried and angered and anxiously dealt with the idea of a child coming under his wing. Broken wings, by most accounts. He has never known how his siblings had been able to heal the way they were, raising their own family in swift pursuit. Jaehaera’s losses, his losses, had made them become ghosts in the shells of their bodies for the longest while.

But he had grown into this shell, just as he had grown into his crown, and now it is their turn to rebuild. 

Jaehaera lets out a sharp yelp of pain, and Grand Maester Munkun lifts his head. “The babe is crowning,” he looks to the midwives. “Prepare the bath!”

Aegon squeezes his wife’s hand harder. Jaehaera’s eyes are bleary from tears of effort, but he feels he is the one who is in whirls of uncontrollable emotions. Jaehaera inhales in determination, readjusts her position and groans loudly one last time.

A babe’s cries deafen all other voices in the room. 

“It’s a boy,” Munkun announces to the room amidst cries of new life, and then looks at him. “A  healthy prince, Your Grace. An heir for the Iron Throne.”

Grand Maester Munkun is holding their son. Aegon doesn’t know how long he has been waiting on letting his tears fall. It could be from the moment he has been told Jaehaera’s water broke, and it could be from moons prior, when he had been first told Jaehaera is with child. There is some spell cast on him when he sees his boy writhe for attention, tufts of silver hair sticking to his head. It’s my…

The umbilical cord is cut, Jaehaera, despite her pain and fatigue, rises into half-sitting in a bolt. “He’s mine,” she yells at the Grand Maester, paralysing all attendants in the room. Queen Jaehaera, as the court knows her, hardly ever raises her voice. “Give him to me!” 

It’s their boy, first. Before he is an heir, before he is thrust into his royal position, it’s their son.

Aegon comes up from his place, and takes his son from Grand Maester Munkun before he could give him to any of the midwives. He is a big baby, eyeing Aegon with a stare of indigo. He has small, pouty lips, and squishy cheeks as red as all of his body is.

“Our son,” he says, placing the boy in her arms. Jaehaera holds him close to her chest, and finally, the stress on her face dissipates. Tears escape her eyes, but she smiles so widely. “He has your nose.”

“Hello. I am your mama,” she tells the newborn softly. The babe’s cries calm as they speak. Aegon brings a hand to caress his face. Does he recognize their voices? Aegon hasn’t spoken to him during the pregnancy as much as Jaehaera, but the nights he did, does the boy recall them? Aegon had been so afraid for his upcoming arrival, but now he has him and he can’t look away. “And this is your papa.”

It’s my family. 

And he loves it, so dearly, he will never let it go.

“Congratulations, little brother, and good sister,” he hears Baela’s voice from behind him. Both her and Jaehaera look up to her. His sister is mindful of their space, but ogles the little boy with a grin. Viserys is further back, trying to catch a glimpse of the child too. “The midwives are afraid to ruin the moment, so I must. Our prince needs to have his first bath before the water grows cold.”

Jaehaera licks her lips, rather hesitant to give the boy away. They share their reservations with only their eyes. Aegon thinks for a moment and kisses his wife’s temple before looking at all the attendants in the room. “Bring the bath here. I’ll do it.”

There are many variations of his title that come about in exclamation. ‘Your Grace’, ‘Your Highness’, ‘Your Majesty’ and so on and so forth, all complaints and concerns and whatnot. None of it matters, not even a smidge, when Jaehaera smiles at him, and gives him their boy in full trust. He holds him, swearing his arms would be secure for the boy evermore.

Because I am your father, above all else.

[sukirichi]

PLEASE STOP COPYING FICS ‼️

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

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

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

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

[irl-batsignal]

I overheard these two girls, they're doing homework and talking.

SOMOENE MADE FANCFICTION OF THEIR TWO TEACHERS?? HUH WHAT

WHO MADE FANFICTION. OF THEIR TWO TEACHERS?

WHATT

[clerichs-xi]

nothing to see here, just the party rogue reporting to the party tactician after a scouting mission... being that close and shirtless is mandatory. for party morale of course.

[avenin7]

He hears a clatter from the other room and the little rito’s curse. It makes him snort as he grabs his towel and bottle again, moving back into the main room where he left Revali sitting at his dining table.

Somehow the little rito is now on the floor. Staring miserably up at the crossbeams in her roost like they’ve somehow personally insulted him. “I hate you.” Revali says. Still glowering above him and Milap sits back in his armchair, taking a slow drag from his bottle.

“Yeah? Why’s that?” She snorts again, amused when Revali whips his head around to glare at her and groans as vertigo hits him even on the floor.

“You bitch.” He slurs. “I said I wanted to get drunk. Not be sent to Hylia.”

Milap reaches for the bowl of tree nuts on the side table. Popping one into their mouth unconcerned. “Not my fault you can’t handle your liquor.” She says around a full mouth. Particulates falling onto her feathers where her shirt is unlaced. “Maybe if you weren’t such a chickadee about it-“

“I am NOT!” Despite his obvious dizziness Revali forces himself up and turns towards her. Wing outstretched to keep his balance. “I am not a chickadee! Take that back.” They keked in the back of their throat, slouching further into the comfort of the plush wool chair and held the bottle outstretched to the little rito. Revali’s face sours further. Glaring at the bottle while he debates the benefit of looking like a wuss or potentially not waking up tomorrow.

“I ain’t got all night chickadee.” He shakes the bottle and Revali chatters irritably as he takes it. Ignoring him again, Milap takes the bowl properly into his wings. Crunching away happily while Revali dig his own grave into the worst hangover he’ll ever experience in his life.

“See??” He says as he finishes. “Not a chickadee.” Clumsily he sets the bottle down on the table. Talons dragging against the rug in a way that might actually trip him if he’s not careful.

“Watch it.” They snap. Tracking him as he stumbles his way around to the bookshelf to glare at their choice in literature. He pulls a book and Milap can’t be bothered to gripe at him for it, letting him leaf through it with a drunken disinterest.

“None of these are interesting. What do you even do when you’re noth smithing?”

Beak quirking as his lisp peaks through he nods his head towards the other chair. Revali ignores him and keeps browsing his books. “I sit. And enjoy the silence of not having children bother me.” The little rito crows, offended and drops his fifth edition Complete Metalsmith on the floor. Her beak grinds in irritation. That’s a good book.

“I am not a child!” Both their eyes are narrowed at one another and Revali stalks towards him. “Besides. You let the hylian brat hang around your smith all day when he’s here. He’s younger than me!” Milap clucks at him in the back of his throat and Revali trills back.

“Yes. He is quiet.” You are not. “And polite.” Which you are also not. Revali growls low and angry.

“I don’t know what everyone sees in him. He’s not that great.” The kids feathers are rising. Working himself up over nothing. Never a great idea to do in general and certainly not a good one when drunk. But they can’t be bothered to care too much. If they exhaust themselves putting out one fire, Revali will just light another. So they stand to fix the books he left out of order on the shelf and put his Master Smithing back in its rightful place. She can hear Revali pacing behind her. Chattering under his breath. “Yes. I suppose he’s strong! And skilled with a sword! And maybe easy on the eyes. And- ugh- Hylia forbid nice.” He hisses the last word. “But he’s egotistical! And his bowmanship is crap. And last time he came to the village he acted like I didn’t know what his horse was!” He turns indignantly gesturing in Milap’s direction. “I know what a horse is! I go outside.” Revali’s braids clatter when he shakes his head. “And besides! He’s not all that good looking! He’s got a slightly chipped front tooth and his hair is a weird texture and- and-“ Milap turns, brow raised as Revali flounders. Beak opening and closing as his drunken brain works in overtime.

“He’s short!” He settles on, staring unfocused at the rug. She can’t help but laugh at him again. Throwing a wing around his shoulder.

“Look, just cause you have a hate crush on the dove doesn’t mean he’s a bad kid.” Revali squawks angrily at his words and fumbles to get out from under his wing. Violently flapping his own.

“I do nOT have a crush-!!!” His voice cracks halfway through the sentence and they watch in amusement as his feathers around his face flatten till he looks like a drowned cat. “I don’t know what makes you think I have a CRUSH but you’re wrong.” She chitters at him and leans into his space.

“Listen, I’m not the best for giving advice on this sort of thing. But it’s pretty obvious you have some kind of hate-crush-sex attraction thing going on with him.” He growls at her again and she just raises her brow in response. “Remember Alaida?” She says. His eyes widen and his crest raises and he stares blankly for a few minutes while the name processes until he chirps out and embarrassed sound.

“I- I didn’t- that wasn’t-! oh goddess……” Milap pats his shoulder and he buries his face in his wings mortified. “oh. how long was it that obvious? I’m so foolish. I’ve made an ass of myself.” She takes pity on his spiraling and grabs his shoulder again.

“Alright chickadee. You need to lay down. And eat something.” It’s a testament to how intoxicated he is that she has no problem dragging him down to the floor again. Shoving pillows and blankets at him until he’s at least semi cushioned. Stalking to her kitchenette, she grabs some dried salmon and fruit and a glass of water to balance in her wings and take back to the poor kid. Revali is chirping embarrassedly when they return. Head propped on his own knee, curled into a ball. “Eat.” They command. Pushing the jerky into Revali’s wing. He groans and shakes his head.

“Not ungry.”

“Don’t care. Your stomach is empty and you’re gonne feel like death tomorrow if you sleep like that.” They crouch to his level and force a beady red eye to meet Revali’s blown pupil. “Eat. Or I make you.” He groans again but complies slowly. Taking tiny nibbles of jerky with his eyes scrunched shut.

Content that he’ll not choke, she stands and makes for the kitchenette again. Though she can handle her own liquor well, she had quite a bit of that bottle too and she can feel her equilibrium is off. Pouring themself a glass of water and taking a sizable gulp he turns to snark over his shoulder. “You wouldn’t want me to have to regurgitate for you now would you?” They laugh at the disgusted sound he makes.

“Oh gods— shut up. I might actually be sick.” Their keking laugh fills the house and she takes a sick pride in how Revali covers his head with a blanket to drown her out. Good. Maybe he’ll actually sleep now.

She returns to her chair and props her feet up on a stool and waits in the silence a while. Enjoying it. Until she can hear Revali’s soft snores filter out from under the blanket. He chuckles and reaches for a book beside him to read until sleep finally drags him under as well.

[mare-sanguis]

i have a fic in my ao3 drafts and it's gonna be such a jumpscare

[somniuslucis]

All I can think about is Cowboy!Art working for Cowgirl!Reader’s father (and ranch owner) as a ranch hand after having spent his whole childhood growing up with you (and Cowboy!Patrick). You finally finished up grad school for ag/business and came back home to your family home to help run the ranch. Cue the slow burn of catching up with the boys and slowly falling in love with Art whilst Reader struggles with feeling at home after spending time at university…

EXTRAS:

Patrick keeps trying to convince you to introduce him to your hot grad girlfriends whilst also giving Art hell by dropping not-so-subtle digs/hints at Art’s feelings toward you.

Cowgirl!Reader showing the boys that she hasn’t forgotten a thing about riding broncos or cutting horses and Art is just falling even more head over heels in love with you.

County fair/carnival!

Art and Pat working as a team breaking broncos and roping cattle

Patrick asks you out because Art can’t work up the courage to and “she’s the boss’s daughter and my friend, Pat. Yeah, she’s gorgeous, but there’s just too much at stake.” This leaves Art grappling with his feelings and eventually pining after you and SEETHING with petty jealousy while Patrick takes you out.

The “date” with Patrick is completely platonic. You call Patrick out on why he asked you out and Patrick confesses to wanting to talk to you about you and Art’s feelings for each other (and Art does not know this).

Maybe a heated argument leads to a heavy makeout between the reader and Art and smut ensues? (read a fic about Art sitting there SMUG after sex and now I can't stop thinking about it).