#might remove the ship tags idk

[radio-and-the-dirt]

dude i don't really care if people ship aroace characters just please acknowledge that they're aro and/or ace. like,, aro and ace people still can and do enter into relationships of various types at times and not every aro or ace person completely lacks attraction anyway and some date even if they do, so like, ship them if thats what you want but please just be respectful.

just acknowledge that the character is aro and/or ace. do some research about what that might mean for them if you need to. treat those characters in a way that respects their identities and doesn't completely brush them aside.

im just tired. we can be in relationships. we can not be in relationships. we are still aros and aces. dont try and erase what little representation we get.

i would like to note that i see things in this way because i have never seen a 'professional' writer (like non-fanfic or not a small online creator) specify where an aro/ace character sits on those spectrums or how they actually view relationships of any type. i've also never seen any 'professional' writer's characters get to explore or express that part of themselves enough in their stories to give much better an understanding than just "not really interested in sex or romance".

if a more specific understanding of a character was provided and it meant that that character wouldn't be involved in romantic and/or sexual relationships or was repulsed by them than yeah, I wouldn't want people shipping them at all but i dont think i've ever seen that so thats not what this is about.

[lovinglin]

Cleaned up my carrd... kinda HRJEHFDJH I feel like my head hurts 🫠

[kitkat5628]

I didn't do my homework well so I gotta ask: I mean... I absolutely adore DickBabs but what's the actual reason DC keeps "pushing" for it if it's so "disliked"?

DC acknowledges that DickKory is more popular, they know. And I... Really really doubt they're supposedly afraid/don't like making money😭🙏 If they were I guess many series that didn't sell well would have been longer than they ended up being, yk...

Is it really a bat and titans editorial problem? Because I know people blame the bat editorial but isn't it DC that makes the final decision? — Actually unsure about how all those editorial things work and are, never really looked up😔

Like genuinely ain't no way a ship that is apparently "hated/disliked by many" has been going on not for a decade, but almost 30 years. DC literally drops everything the moment it doesn't make money??😭 No way they're "pushing" it because of the BatFamily when they broke TimSteph up. No way they're "afraid of making money". No way it's because "they're bias about it"???? There have to be another reason.

Can't even say they're trying to "push" a new thing for a few years to see how it goes cause y'all, we're talking about 30 years. Not just, idk, five or six but thirty.

Something that wouldn't make them make money, after so much years, would still exist and they would be trying so hard to keep it up??

DickKory surely has more fans but if DickBabs had none it would have been gone yeeeeears ago, I think🤨 We comic fans that have been reading for years can argue that Tom Taylor run wasn't... The best. He did give us some nice content but it ain't the best of the best (Depends on your tastes too though!)... But it did get more new fans into Nightwing. Like, many, many new. And while we know that the couple doesn't really feel like themselves, new fans seems to have enjoyed it. So I can guess his run did get many more DickBabs shippers — and with Watters writing them even better there might be even more later in the future, if they do keep things up like this. Now that Tom Taylor's books sold a lot, there might be even more DickBabs? Not... sure how it works ahah;; — it'd make sense if they would be trying to "push" it but what about before?😭

Since Tom Taylor, if I'm not mistaking, wanted to get them married but DC stopped him, it means that the bat editorial doesn't have control over everything, obviously... Their decisions do need approval, we can't blame it all on them.

So again there has to be an actual reason that... Makes sense? Other than the "afraid of making money" or "bat editorial being possessive of Dick" or "DC wanting to push BatFamily".

↓↓ !!!READ BEFORE LEAVING A COMMENT!!! ↓↓

This blog is always open for discussions! However, it has to be civil, since it's all about fiction and there's absolutely no need to actually get heated up and start a fight over it. Discussion civil comments are very welcome, but if you're here just to be mean, please do leave.

Mean comments will pretty much be ignored, but if your comment starts: Insulting people, degrading the characters and/or the shippers of a ship, is xenophobic, is racist, contain misogyny and ableism or generally cross a line, it will indeed get deleted. Don't bring negativity here, thanks 🫡.

On a little side note, I'm tagging this as DickKory/Kory/Starfire because it's kinda about it too? But, if you believe it shouldn't, let me know in the comments and I'll make sure to remove the tag :).

[the-unidentified-author]

The Stowaway | Commander Mills | 65

Warnings/ Tags: Arguments, mention of death, dinosaurs, might be smut if I make a part two, kinda rambling, idk I just wanted to write a story and build a character

Summary: You are a stowaway on Commander Mill's passenger ship, The Zoic Exploratory Charter 3703. Your Cryopod is the only one that made it, but he can’t find your ID tag and soon discovers the truth.

Word Count: 5,948

Not my gif, if its yours and you would like me to remove it just ask <3

You awoke with a start, the sound of an alarm blaring like a siren, jarring your senses, while bright, erratic lights flashed harshly in your eyes. Panic surged through you like a tidal wave, and you scratched frantically at the cold glass in front of you, realising you were trapped in a claustrophobic box barely bigger than your body. A primal fear gripped your chest as you struggled for breath, clawing desperately at the glass that held you in this suffocating tomb, feeling the slickness of sweat on your palms. Flashing red lights cast ominous shadows around you as frantic text sprawled across the glass beneath your trembling hands, the ringing in your ears becoming a dull roar, until a robotic, tinny voice sliced through the chaos, cold and uncaring.

“Oxygen levels critical, immediate evacuation recommended.”

As the fog of sleep began to fall away, you began to remember where you were. It wasn’t a tomb or a coffin, and you weren’t here against your will. You were in a Cryo-chamber that should have been aboard a ship bound for the colonies, yet everything felt wrong. From what you could see outside the small, smudged window, a world of darkness loomed, and it looked as though you hadn’t reached your destination. A sinking feeling settled in your stomach as you feared the worst, the reality of being lost in space creeping up on you.

An alarm blared inside the chamber, so deafeningly loud it threatened to split your mind in two. Desperate, you struggled to cover your ears, bashing your elbows painfully against the sides of the cramped, padded chamber. A shadow flitted across the glass, but in your panic, you couldn’t decipher what, or who, it was. Your vision swam, spots of darkness dancing in front of your eyes as each breath felt heavier, teetering on the brink of being your last. Then, a sharp pop of electrics pierced the air and a hissing white smoke invaded, stinging your lungs with its acrid presence. You coughed, gasping futilely for air, the smoke swirling like a living nightmare. Frantically, you clawed at the glass again, your mind racing for the emergency procedure your friend had instructed, but you couldn't think. Couldn't breathe. The world spun dizzily, the pressure building until everything collapsed into an all-consuming blackness.

  You shifted restlessly in bed, tugging the blanket closer against the biting chill of the morning air. Burrowing deeper under the covers, a sudden icy shiver raced down your spine, jolting you into immediate wakefulness. You sat up abruptly, eyes wide open, taking in the surrounding disarray, a room cluttered with half-broken electronics, scattered tools, and a lone computer flickering to the left. Instinctively, you moved to rub your eyes, only to collide with something strange, a mask secured across your mouth. Confused and slightly panicked, you yanked it off, the action releasing a sharp hiss from the small device. Staring at it in your hands, the realisation dawned upon you, this was an oxygen mask. Your gaze darted around, focusing upwards and to the right, where brilliant golden sunlight streamed through a little window, illuminating the room with a surreal glow. With legs still heavy with fatigue, you swung them over the bed’s edge, attempting to stand as a sudden wave of nausea engulfed you. Clinging to the bed’s edge, you gulped down air, eyes squeezed shut to ward off the spinning room. Fragmented memories clawed their way back, haunting visions of the Cryo-chamber and the suffocating smoke. 

You glanced around, confusion thick in your mind, realising with a murmur of disbelief that you couldn't have ended up back here on your own. A sudden clang echoed through the ship's metallic hallways, causing your heart to leap. Standing up on unsteady legs, you shuffled over to the cupboard to the left, just before the door. Your hands searched through the clutter, eventually finding a large, bulky jacket, clearly made for someone with a larger build, perhaps a man. You draped it over your shoulders, feeling its unfamiliar weight, and pushed the door release button. The door opened with a mechanical hiss, and you cautiously poked your head into the corridor outside, casting furtive glances to the right and left. Hesitantly, you stepped out, discovering you were on what seemed to be the bridge of the ship. The door slid shut behind you with a soft thud, making you jump again. Turning around, your eyes caught the letters emblazoned on the door. You reached out, fingertips brushing over the words 'Commander's Quarters,' 

“Fuck,” you whispered under your breath, snapping your head left and right.

Moving quickly, you approached the solitary chair opposite what you presumed were the ship's controls, which bore the scars of a turbulent descent. Electrical pops crackled from some frayed wires to your left, while the console before you lay utterly lifeless. To your left, however, flickered the only screen that seemed to hold any semblance of life: the status panel for the Cryo chambers. It methodically scrolled through the chambers housed within the ship, each one glowing a menacing shade of red.   You didn’t know what had happened, but you knew one thing for sure. You had to get out of here before whoever had rescued you came back. If they really were the Commander of the ship, then they wouldn’t take too kindly to the only survivor being a stowaway. An illegal Cryo chamber stored in the back of the ship where there should only have been supplies.

You tapped on the computer screen, grateful that it was a model you were somewhat acquainted with, and selected the icon for the surrounding terrain. A question mark lingered beside the planet's name, but you brushed it off and swiftly scanned through the planet’s composition. The atmosphere seemed breathable, and the climate bore resemblance to the planet you had known growing up. As you scrolled, a notification appeared, prompting you to click on it. It revealed the location of one of the escape pods. Another creak echoed through the ship, and you froze, fearing for a moment that whoever had rescued you had returned. When no further sounds followed, you cautiously stood, striving to commit the map to the escape pod to memory. You had to find a way out of here.   You walked quickly, stopping only long enough in front of the door that separated the Commander's quarters from the rest of the ship for it to open. Then you moved quickly down the gangway, heading towards the back of the ship. To your left and right there should have been Cryopods, but each of the capsules were empty. It made you wonder how hard the landing must have been for the ship to decide the Cryopods would be safer making landfall by themselves.

Your focus lingered on the vacant Cryopods, oblivious to the rising water, until gentle splashes reverberated throughout the expansive chamber, urging you to glance down at your feet. The water was a murky brown, reminiscent of a muddy puddle or a pond, or so you surmised, having never seen an actual body of water. Life in an early colony had kept the sun's warmth a stranger to you, as the smog from terraforming machinery perpetually chocked the atmosphere. With a sigh, your gaze shifted to the door leading to the world beyond. The water lapped at the edge of the ramp where you stood. You had no idea how deep it was or more importantly what was in it.

Letting out a deep sigh, you turned and made your way back into the commander’s quarters. Placing your hands on your hips, you surveyed the small space, hoping to find an emergency exit through which you could climb up and out the top of the ship, praying that water hadn’t entirely encircled it. Your gaze fell upon the symbol for weapons, prompting you to step forward and grasp the handle. Nothing happened. You pulled again, this time with greater force, and the panel above the cupboard illuminated red, revealing a message. 

“Unauthorised access.” The robotic voice from before bellowed.

With a resigned sigh, you let your hand fall from the handle, anxiously nibbling your lip. The thought of hacking the software crossed your mind, yet the real problem was the lack of time, not ability. Turning away, you faced the ladder, placing your hands on the rung level with your head, eyes tracing up towards the ceiling where the hatch beckoned at the top. Casting a final, searching glance around the vessel, you found nothing of use and began to ascend the ladder with care.

The door loomed heavy in front of you, a stubborn obstacle between you and freedom. The ship was so badly damaged that the hydraulics, meant to open it with ease, failed miserably, leaving you in an awkward position. You jabbed at the button to release it, only to be met with an unsatisfying hiss and the button turning a mocking shade of red. Frustration simmered inside you, and with clenched jaw, you reached for the handle labeled ‘manual release,’ the letters worn from years of use. Standing on a precarious ladder, really just square cutouts in the wall, with barely enough space for the top of your boot, you found the task daunting. The earlier flood of water made your grip slippery and the climb treacherous. Yet, determined, you climbed, cursing the entire time and muttering prayers to gods you never believed in. After what felt like an eternity, your perseverance paid off as you pushed the handle up and over. The door heaved open with a satisfying clunk, hitting the top of the ship and allowing a sliver of light to pierce through the darkness.

The light was harsh, flooding your senses in an overwhelming deluge as you squinted into the newfound brightness. You dared not thrust more than the crown of your head through the narrow opening. Blinking rapidly, your eyes gradually adjusted, allowing you to take in the scene. To your astonishment, you discovered that the ship’s stern remained afloat, yet the bow rested firmly upon a sandbank. Relief coursed through you; escape seemed viable after all. Clinging to the jagged exterior, you calculated your descent along the fractured hull. Every step was precarious, but hope was a powerful motivator. Below, the escape pod beckoned, a beacon of salvation amid the wreckage.

After ten minutes of wandering, every direction had begun to look the same, and you realised you were completely lost. The environment surrounding you was foreign and unsettling. Towering trees stretched upwards, their dense canopy blotting out the sunlight, casting eerie shadows on the forest floor. In any other situation, the sight of so much green might have filled you with wonder, but now it only fuelled a growing sense of dread. The trees seemed to form an endless, impenetrable maze, their rough bark and sprawling roots turning the simplest path into a twisting, treacherous journey. The ground itself was uneven, punctuated by sudden dips and rises that made it almost impossible to keep your bearings. Each step felt like a gamble, the threat of a hidden root or loose stone ready to trip you up. Back home, the landscape was flat and predictable. Though you hadn't ventured far on foot before, you were used to orderly paths, straight lines meticulously cut into the earth to accommodate the workers moving to and from the farms efficiently. 

A sharp crack of a twig snapping jarred you from your spiralling thoughts, yanking you back to the chilling reality. The shadowy forest had been alive with whispers, unsettling murmurs since your feet touched its floor, but none had felt this dangerously close before. Every instinct screamed at you to melt into silence, invisibility your only ally. From the depths of looming shadows came a shiver-inducing rustle, each footstep crunching against the brittle, leaf-carpeted earth as though the darkness prowled closer. Your heart hammered, an insistent drumbeat, forcing adrenaline through your veins. Every hair on your neck stood at rigid attention, a silent sentinel. With painstaking care, you eased your footsteps, each shift deliberates, ghost-like, until you were nestled beside a tree with bark rough against your back like armour. A dense bush nearby promised meagre shelter, a refuge slim and frail. You forced your breath into shallow, measured whispers, your lungs battling the urge to gulp air desperately. You tried to breathe slowly and quietly, fighting the urge to close your eyes, some childish part of your brain reasoning that if you couldn’t see it, then whatever was out there couldn’t see you.

 As the crunch of twigs and leaves echoed through the heavy air, the sound grew closer, sharpening your senses to their limits. It was as if the unseen entity were mirroring your desperate attempt at silence, creeping cautiously as though it were aware of your presence. The forest was alive with the symphony of its movements, each crack and rustle amplified in the stillness, weighing heavily on your heart. You could almost feel the tension in the air, thick with anticipation, as you fought to compose yourself, knowing that whatever lurked ahead was moving with a calculated stealth that could rival your own. You felt as though you were being hunted. 

With a sudden, jarring motion, the very bush you had counted on for cover was yanked away, exposing you to the daylight. Your heart skipped, expecting a monster, but instead, the figure that loomed in its place was far more unsettling, a man. His silhouette was familiar yet foreign, as the Commander of the ship stood before you, a weapon clutched in hands that looked neither welcoming nor hostile, just ready. His face, framed by the ghostly underbrush, mirrored your shock—eyes wide, jaw tense, as if he had stumbled upon a spectre. Time seemed to stop in that breathless stare; two worlds collided, both marooned in mutual disbelief. The spell broke as your instincts screamed louder. You spun away from him, adrenaline flooding your veins as you bolted, each stride an urgent leap over fallen timber, heedless of direction. All that mattered was the distance, the precious separation between you and the man who had emerged from the shadows with a gun.

“Hey, hey! Wait!” His voice cut through the frenzied air, urgent yet tinged with confusion, a desperate plea that echoed in your ears. It reached out to you across the space between, ricocheting off the trees, mingling with your racing heartbeat. Each syllable tugged at something deep within, a mix of fear and bewilderment that sent a shiver down your spine. But you couldn’t stop. You dared not stop.

  "Stop!" His voice pierced the air once more, alarmingly nearer than before, carrying with it an intensity that quickened your pace into a frenzy. Each footfall behind you resonated like a drumbeat, urging your legs to move faster, as every echoing step seemed to gain on you. The world around blurred into a disarray of shadows and sounds, as the urgency gripped you like an iron vice, refusing to relent. It felt as if the forest itself conspired to slow you down, branches clawing at your path while your instincts screamed for you to forge ahead, unyielding, unstoppable.

Panic thrummed through your veins, unused to the relentless pace, especially over such treacherous ground—roots like claws, mud eager to betray each step. Suddenly, the earth disappeared before you, a hidden dip swallowing your momentum, sending you tumbling headlong into the earth’s embrace. The crash was immediate, air stolen from your lungs as shadows danced dizzyingly. From behind, a guttural sound broke through your shock, a grunt. The Commander, in his relentless pursuit, had too been surprised by the treacherous terrain, plunging down with you.  

He landed with a thud in front of you, sprawled on his back against the gnarled tree, while you remained flat, face first against the forest floor. For a fleeting moment, you braced yourself, ready for him to speak, but his gaze flickered past you, drawn to something beyond. As your own eyes followed, the air thickened with a putrid scent, reminiscent of the hot composters back home, a foul reminder of decay and abandonment. You recoiled slightly, the stench clawing at your throat. He pushed himself upright, and you mirrored his movements, hearts pounding in sync as you both stared at the grotesque sight before you, a massive dead animal lay sprawled in the dirt, its features obscured by dirt and foliage. The silence around you felt heavy, pressing in on all sides, amplifying the reality of what lay just feet away. You found yourself wondering how such a large creature could die, and how big the animal that killed it was.

A deep, primal roar shattered the air behind you, a sound so powerful it reverberated in your bones, demanding your immediate attention. Your silent question of what could have killed the monster next to you was answered. You and the commander were jerked back to the terrifying present, as if waking from a deceptive dream. It was a roar that left no room for misinterpretation—a force of nature announcing its dominance. The oppressive air vibrated with each thundering footfall that approached, the ground beneath your feet trembling as if alive, the trees shivering in fear themselves, groaning under the immense weight of an unseen entity. The fleeting anxiety of moments ago escalated into full-blown terror at the unknown horror advancing relentlessly. Rocks cascaded down the hill towards you, dislodged by the sheer force, prompting you to instinctively step back, eyes darting to the gun on the commander's back. You felt as though every breath was borrowed, and each heartbeat echoed with the urgency of survival, your body screaming for action as dread wrapped icy fingers around your heart.

A strong hand grabbed your jacket, pulling you away just as the creature came into sight at the top of the hill. Without stopping, he dragged you along, making sure you understood the need to run. Side by side, you both took off, feet pounding against the ground. You followed him, trusting his lead even though you didn’t know which way you were going, just knowing you had to get away.

 “What’s your name?” he asked, his voice echoing slightly as he began clattering through the compartments around the galley. The sparsely lit space hummed with the ship's underlying mechanical rhythm, a low background noise of whirring fans and intermittent beeps. Stainless-steel surfaces reflected the dim lighting, and the scent of antiseptic and stale air lingered. Offering a semblance of order among the chaotic assortment of supplies, the cupboards held a jumble of ration packs and maintenance tools. He turned to look at you when you didn’t answer, his eyes searching yours under the muted lights. “Your name?” he pressed again, placing a water bottle, covered in residual condensation, down on the metal counter.

The realisation hit like a sudden wave, an awareness of the deep thirst that had quietly crept up on you, now palpable in the parched texture of your tongue. Your eyes fixated on the bottle, droplets of condensation glistening tantalisingly in the dim light, its contents promising relief. Silence stretched between you both.

“Okay,” he said, as he dragged another chair with an audible scrape, positioning it firmly in front of you. His movements were deliberate, as if establishing a careful balance of power in the room. “Let’s find out who you are.” He clattered a tray down on the metal table beside you, the sound echoing sharply in the otherwise still air. The tray boasted an array of disorganised tools and devices, gleaming under the muted lights, all speaking of functionality over comfort. “What’s your passenger number?” he asked brusquely, flipping open a worn logbook. His fingers moved deftly, skimming over pages yellowed with age, yet his eyes never strayed far from watching your reaction.

You clenched your jaw as you looked at him but again didn’t say anything. He was pretty, not what you had expected; his features striking and almost delicate, framed by the soft glow of the dim lighting. His warm brown eyes held a depth that seemed to reflect an understanding beyond his years, while his long hair fell just above his shoulders in gentle waves, catching the light and giving him an almost ethereal quality. He was young too, possibly around your age, which made the situation feel all the more surreal. The facial hair he sported had once seemed neatly groomed, but now it bore the marks of neglect, suggesting he hadn’t bothered to tidy it up for a few days, adding a rugged edge to his otherwise pretty face. There was an air of vulnerability about him, yet also an undeniable strength that intrigued you despite your anxiety.

He flipped through the book with practiced ease, the pages whispering secrets from their timeworn edges before he snapped it shut, his gaze returning to you with a hint of curiosity and suspicion. “There wasn’t a number on your pod, and it was an older model,” he stated, his voice carrying the weight of someone piecing together a fragmented puzzle. The room seemed to grow still, the ambient hum of the ship fading into the background as if giving way to the weight of his revelation. “If I didn’t know any better, then I would say that you aren’t where you’re supposed to be.” His eyes narrowed slightly, deepening the shadows that danced across his features, as though he was trying to decipher your mystery, weighing options and consequences in the silence that hung between you.

You clenched your jaw once more, your gaze drifting down to your hand, with a mixture of frustration and pain simmering beneath your skin. The cut was jagged and raw, stretching defiantly along the side of your hand, a result of falling into the hole where the creature lay lifeless. The wound had started to scab over, a thin, fragile shield barely holding the skin together, yet each subtle movement sent fresh pinpricks of crimson welling up, tiny beads of blood blossoming along the wound like cruel little flowers.

“Let me look at your hand,” he said, his voice calm yet insistent as he reached towards you. You instinctively pulled away, cradling your injured hand with the other, a scowl darkening your features. The thought of anyone touching the tender, throbbing wound was unbearable, and your eyes held a mix of defiance and vulnerability. 

“My name is Mills. I was the pilot of this ship. I was transporting Cryopods and supplies to the new colonies before we crashed. You have been in Cryostasis for,” he signed. “A long time.” He held out his hand to you, and reluctantly you placed your injured hand in his palm. “The navigation system is gone. I don’t know where we are. It’s uncharted.” He continued as he carefully turned your hand and with his free hand moved a device close to it. White liquid squirted out from it onto your wound. It stung, and you moved to pull your hand away. “There is an escape vessel.” You looked up at him. “So, you can understand me.” he said with a soft smile.

“Yes.” You replied as he let go of your hand.

“You’re not supposed to be on this ship.” He said, sitting back in his chair and crossing his arms.

His shirt was snug against his frame, hugging his muscular build as he shifted in his seat. You noticed the definition of his biceps, the way his shoulders seemed to broaden with each movement, and the hint of a six-pack under his shirt. He exuded an air of strength and fitness that was difficult to ignore. When you remained silent, he continued, his voice steady, “There’s a no tolerance policy for stowaways, they are to be-“

“Shot when they are discovered.” You finished, holding his gaze for a moment before glancing towards the weapon on the table behind him. “So, is that what you’re going to do Mills, shoot me?” You asked, returning your gaze to his.

"The escape vessel hangs high above the mountains; that is our only hope of returning home." He continued to scrutinise you from head to toe.

“Our?” 

“Yes, our.”

“They will check my ID as soon as the escape vessel is picked up, and I will be shot on site,” you said, your voice harsh. Your eyes darted between his, searching for any flicker of reassurance in his expression as you struggled to comprehend the dire gravity of your situation.

“Not if we tell, then you are someone else.” He said with a small smile.

“They wouldn’t believe us.”

“They wouldn’t believe you. I have no reason to lie about survivors. Then, when we stop at the nearest planet, you can disappear into the crowds.” Mills said, his voice laced with conviction.

“Why?”

“Why, what?”

“Why bother to save me?”

“It’s a fair few kilometres to the escape pod, and well, you saw that creature out there. There are others too. I really don’t want to make that sort of journey alone.” He said, unfolding his arms and resting his hands on his thighs.

“How do I know you won’t shoot me when we get to the escape pod?”

“You have my word.”

“What good is the word of a stranger?” you asked, skepticism evident in your voice

He shrugged his shoulders, and you chewed the inside of your lip as you looked at him. He had saved you from the Cryochamber. You had an older model, it was true, and you knew that it couldn’t be opened from the inside and then there was the matter of how you ended up inside the ship. By your calculations, there were more than enough opportunities for him to kill you.

“What the hell kind of planet do you think this is?” you asked, plucking a seed bud from the crest of a towering, sun-drenched flower, its petals a vibrant orange that stood out amidst the lush greenery of the grass field you were traversing. The warm breeze carried the whisper of distant wildlife, adding to the surreal beauty of the alien landscape.

“No idea, but I really don’t like the local wildlife.” he replied, his gaze darting towards a rustle in the bushes, as if the very thought of the unknown creatures made him uneasy. His grip on the weapon tightened, a subconscious acknowledgment of the danger lurking beyond the vivid flora. 

Mills had not stopped scanning the area surrounding the two of you since you had left the ship, his gun held tight against his chest like a lifeline. His focus was unwavering, every step calculated as he navigated the uneven ground with a sense of ease that hinted at years of survival experience. Despite the intense heat causing sweat to glisten on his brow, he maintained a pace that was both quick and steady, betraying no sign of fatigue.

“Well, if it is truly undiscovered, then we could get a fat chunk of change for discovering it,” you continued, as the two of you ventured deeper into the dense tree line. The shadows stretched longer as you walked, the air cooler and filled with the earthy scents of moss and damp foliage. “Hell, I don’t think this place would even need terraforming.”

“I don’t think this place would be suitable for a colony,” Mills replied, his eyes scanning the wild growth around you with a critical eye. The entangled vines and towering trees spoke of a land that thrived on its terms, chaotic and untouched by civilisation. 

The foliage in the field had been sparse, allowing for clear lines of sight in all directions, but stepping into the forest was like diving into another world altogether. The trees stood numerous and chaotic, their trunks weaving into a dense tapestry without any semblance of order. Moss clung to their bark as if trying to pull them into the ground. Thick foliage blanketed the forest floor, a tangled carpet of thorns, leaves, and hidden roots that threatened to trip the unwary with every step. Above, the canopy formed a patchwork quilt of light and shadow, the sun's rays piercing through in thin, golden beams that highlighted motes of dust dancing in the air. The air hung heavy with the scent of rich, damp earth mixed with a hint of sweet decay, and the occasional calls of distant creatures echoed eerily, amplifying the sense of mystery and hinting at the unseen life lurking just out of sight.

There was a sudden, thunderous roar to the left, reverberating through the trees and sending a shiver down your spine. It was deeper, more menacing than the previous cries you'd heard—a primal sound that hinted at a creature of unimaginable size and ferocity. Mills didn’t waste a second, swiftly raising his gun, resting his cheek against it to steady his aim, his face a mask of concentration and tension. He advanced with a quick, deliberate step, every movement exuding the experience of someone well-versed in danger. With a silent yet urgent gesture, he signalled for you to continue moving. As he retreated, Mills kept the gun firmly trained on the direction of the roar, his eyes scanning for any shadow or flicker of movement. You obeyed, forcing your legs to move against the paralysing weight of fear, cautiously stepping away from the unseen threat that seemed to stalk just beyond the veil of greenery. The forest, once alive with background noise, felt eerily silent, amplifying the heart-pounding thud of your pulse.

“Distance to escape vessel, 24 kilometres,” intoned the robotic voice, its calm precision a sharp contrast to the adrenaline-charged atmosphere. The announcement came just as Mills deemed it safe to pause, his decision a tacit acknowledgment that the two of you had gained enough distance from whatever had unleashed that terrifying roar.

“Fuck,” you whispered, leaning forward and placing your hands on your thighs, trying to take in larger gulps of air. The relentless heat clung to your skin like a sticky shroud, each breath feeling heavy and laborious. “We have only walked 4 kilometres.” The realisation cut sharply, your eyes sweeping over the parched vegetation.

The climate on this planet was oppressively hot and sticky, a pervasive humidity that seemed to seep into every pore, sapping energy with each step. The vegetation reflected this as well, appearing dry and brittle, leaves curled in on themselves as if trying to conserve as much moisture as possible. Dust stirred underfoot with every movement, clinging to your boots as a constant reminder of the parched conditions. Mills glanced away from his gun long enough to assess you. Sweat trickled down his temples, yet he remained remarkably composed, his endurance and conditioning allowing him to weather the demanding journey with seemingly unshakable stoicism.

“What planet do you come from?” he asked, his voice tinged with curiosity and perhaps a hint of weariness. You stood, placing your hands on your hips, drawing a deep, calming breath as if preparing to share a piece of yourself you hadn’t revealed in a long time.

“Strars 6Y7-5G39, a colony planet.” You replied, moving to sit down on a fallen tree.

“So new, they haven’t even given it a real name,” he said, chewing thoughtfully on the inside of his cheek. His eyes seemed to scan the horizon, as if trying to imagine the vast, unnamed potential of such a place.

“Yep, we haven’t even got sunlight through the clouds yet. It's like living under a constant, dreary blanket. All it ever does is rain. The Company says it will take at least twenty years before the sun pokes through, and likely another ten after that for them to finish stripping resources and make it habitable,” you replied, pulling your shirt away from your body and flapping it slightly, hoping to send some cooler air up underneath. 

“How long?” he asked, his voice carrying a soft note of empathy

“How long what?”

“How long have you been on that planet?” he asked, his gaze shifting once more to take in the alien landscape around you. There was a cautious curiosity in his voice, as if he was trying to piece together the story of your life through the fragmented history etched in your words. 

“All my life,” you replied, your voice carrying the weight of years spent under someone else's thumb. “I was born on Sanrohines, a tropical planet that was as lush with debt as it was with greenery. My family ran into financial trouble, and my dad did what he had to do to pay it off. With the Company, the only currency they care for is time—servitude in hours and years.”

“How much time do you owe?”

“You ask a lot of fucking questions, you know that?” You replied a little frustrated.

“Well, I am about to lie to the company rescue ship that’s going to pick us up. I think knowing a little more than your name would be useful.”

You sighed and looked away from him, the weight of unspoken memories pressing upon your shoulders. He was right. But knowing that didn't make divulging your history any easier. It was a story woven with struggle and sacrifice, threads you weren't sure you were ready to unravel for him.

“My parents owed, thirty years each. Mum died after five and dad after seven. A new round of illnesses got them, the older you are, the worse it seems to be. I inherited their time, but for decedents the time is quartered. So, I owed twelve years.”

“You look old enough to have paid that off.”

“Hey, that’s rude.” You retorted.

He shrugged in response.

“Due to illness and people dying in the mines, my tenure was extended.”

“By how much?”

“Fifteen years.”

His head snapped around to you with an intensity that broke through the surrounding silence. You squinted up at him, instinctively shielding your eyes from the sun as curiosity and a hint of challenge danced in his gaze. The stark reaction suggested a shared understanding of the gravity of your circumstances.

“They can just add fifteen years just like that?”

“Who's gonna stop them, the only people that operate on colony planets are The Company and smugglers.” You shrugged.

 “That’s who got you on the ship?” he asked, his attention now more focused on you than the surrounding area. His gaze was steady and searching, like a spotlight cutting through the dense foliage around you. The slight rustle of leaves and distant calls of unseen creatures faded into the background as his question hung in the humid air between you, casting a sharper light on the path you'd taken to get here.

“Yep, I worked on the farms, where tending to those beds of leafy greens wasn’t just for sustenance but survival. Fresh veg on the black market sells for a killing. It’s funny how something so small can have such a big price tag in this universe. Then they packed me up nice and cold in a Cryo chamber before shipping me off on your vessel. If you hadn’t crashed, well, maybe I’d be somewhere sipping cocktails now, a free woman.” You clapped your hands together, and stood stretching.

“I didn’t crash.” He muttered., moving away from you.

“Sure, you didn’t; you just fancied a leisurely stroll in this creepy creature hellhole,” you joked, your voice laced with playful sarcasm. The dense foliage rustled softly underfoot as you followed the path he'd set, the dimming light casting long shadows that flickered and danced with each step.

A Link to My Complete Inventory

A/N: I might add more to this at a later date.

[vodika-vibes]

Heyyyy!!!!

Can I have a Cody finds out/being told that f!reader is pregnant? To make things more complicated lol f!reader is a jedi

Idk where this came from tho… if you don’t have the time or inspiration it’s fine, I love u 🤍

And A Baby Makes Three...

Summary: You find out you're pregnant, and now you have to tell Cody.

Pairing: Commander Cody x F!Reader

Word Count: 996

Warnings: Talk of pregnancy

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni

A/N: hihi! Thanks for the request! I hope you like it!

You frown at yourself in the mirror and pull your robe tight across your stomach. It’s not obvious yet, at least, and you suppose, with a little clever misdirection with the force, people might not notice the baby bump at all.

At least, you hope so.

You’ve been the Jedi General of the 212 for over a year and a half now. And while no one had been happy when the order was given, in hindsight you have to admit that it made sense.

After all, Obi-Wan was a negotiator. He was at his most effective using his words to convince both parties to come to an agreement. You, however, had spent the majority of your jedi career careening from one civil war to the next.

You know military strategy like you know the back of your hand.

And, with the sudden death of Palpatine, and the startling knowledge that he had been pulling the strings on both sides of the war…well, having the skilled Negotiator sitting in meetings day in and day out was far more important than having him on a warship.

Of course, he doesn’t seem to be doing the greatest job at bringing about an end to the war, since it’s still going on.

You release the front of your robes with a sigh.

Honestly, what is the point of even having that implant if it’s not going to work like it’s supposed to. You fold your arms over your chest, and tilt your head back as you try to gather your thoughts.

You need to tell Cody, obviously. Mostly because the baby is his, and partly because the fact that you’re going to be pregnant is going to have to change the way the battalion approaches any upcoming battles.

You release a sigh and rub the back of your neck, trying to ease the tension before it turns into a headache. It’s not going to work, the only person who seems to have the ability to massage away your tension headaches is Cody, and he’s busy.

You hear the familiar sound of your door code being keyed in, and you turn towards the door, or maybe not. The door slides open, silently, and Cody steps into the room, and allows the door to slide shut behind him.

Everyone on the ship knows about your relationship with him, but it’s better to not show it off.

Tension drains out of his body as he sets his helmet on the table next to the door, and you smile sympathetically, “Rough day?”

“That’s putting it mildly,” He glances at you, and then takes a moment to remove the top part of his armor, before he crosses the room to slide his arms around you and bury his face in your neck, “We got word from Fox, there’s been no truce agreement yet.” He mumbles.

“So another month of war,” You say with a sigh.

“So another month of war.” Cody agrees, pulling back to press his forehead against yours, “They’re thinking of sending us back to Umbara.”

“Until we get actual orders, let’s just hope that that’s a rumor,” You reply softly as you reach up to soothingly card your fingers through his hair.

“Yeah,” His eyes close as he relaxes into your touch, “How are you feeling? You woke up pretty sick this morning.”

You smile wryly, though it goes unnoticed for the moment.

“Told you that you shouldn’t have eaten Boil’s experiment. You’re lucky a small bout of nausea is all you got,” Cody continues.

“It wasn’t that bad.” You defend.

“Cyare, it was moving.”

“That…is true.” You admit, grimacing as you remember Boil’s meal, “But he was so excited to cook-”

“You don’t have to keep humoring my brothers, cyare. We already like you.” Cody mumbles.

“I genuinely like your brothers, Cody. I like seeing them happy.” You say lightly, “But, as it happens, I wasn’t sick because of last night's dinner.”

His eyes snap open and he scans your face, “You weren’t?”

“No. I wasn’t.” You trail your hand across his cheek, “And I’m afraid I’m going to be sick for a bit.”

His brow furrows, “Do we need to go to the Medbay?”

You huff out a breath, “That probably won’t hurt, but I need to talk to you first.”

“Okay?”

There are a million different ways you can say this, but you think that, in this situation, the hard facts are the easiest, “My implant failed. I’m pregnant.”

Cody blinks at you, his jaw slightly slack.

“You-...really?”

“Really.” You confirm, “The force doesn’t lie.”

He blinks at you again, and his gaze drifts to your stomach, “A baby,” Cody sounds stunned and a bright grin crosses his face, “That’s…that’s wonderful! I’m going to be a dad!” And then the smile fades, “Oh…shit. This is going to change how we handle missions, isn’t it?”

“Oh, undoubtedly. I’m going to get fat. Which means no more vents.”

“It means you’ll have to start staying back at the command tent.”

You purse your lips, “I do not like that.”

“You don’t have to like it. But you do have to accept it.” Cody replies, and then he kisses you, a series of quick, loving kisses, and when he pulls away he sets his hands on your shoulders, “Okay! We’re going to Helix.”

“Can’t we go later?” You whine, even as you allow him to direct you towards the door.

“Nope.” Cody keys open the door and propels you into the hall, “Because, cyare, Helix is going to have to learn a whole new branch of medicine to help keep you healthy. Two, even, because he’s not a pediatrician either.”

“...now I feel kind of guilty.”

“He’ll get over it. Maybe.” Cody says easily, “Or, if he’s angry, it’ll be at me and not you.”

You eye him suspiciously, and Cody’s smile is a bit too innocent for you to believe it, “You’re fragile, cyare.”

Your jaw drops, “I am not!”

[driftsart]

tell us more abt ur shockwave!!!!! pretty please. I saw the previous tags on the eepy post and u said he's the nicest ever. now im even more inclined to give him hugs

Sure! ⬇️⬇️

Here's some pre-war Shockwave lore:

Shockwave was originally a senator (I'm still figuring out in what city), but his mind was rarely focused on his job. His dream was to be a scientist, not a senator (since jobs were chosen for Cybertronians). He would often skip work just to work on his experiments that only Soundwave and later on, Orion Pax knew about. His works and experiments all had the same goal, making Cybertron a better/equal place to live in. And since he worked with/close to Cybertron's government, he knew about most conflicts/issues on Cybertron.

Early years of war Shockwave lore:

During the begining of the war, Shockwave's experiments were exposed to the public after autobots finding out he was allies with the newly formed group which were nameless at the time (the deceptions). With his experiments out in the open, many autobots were angered and thought of them as dark science since Shockwave kept them hidden. Ever since, he was considered a mad scientist that had to be captured. He was hunted down by bounty hunter Lockdown, which at the time, was an autobot. He was found in a burning down factory carrying a newly forged cybertronian who was abandoned. Because of this, the autobots accused him of stealing sparklings just to experiment on them. He was then given the punishment of empurata, with extra weapons and parts just so that he would have to "carry the weight of his crimes".

After Empurata lore:

After the punishment, Shockwave, with his newly formed emotionless mind, k!lled the group of bots who performed the punishment on him. He later on escaped and hid in the wastelands where he worked tirelessly day and night trying to find any way of restoring his memories and emotions. He wasn't seen for years after that.

So y'all might be wondering, how did he join the 'cons?

The deceptions at this time we're trying to build ships to escape cybertron and hopefully find a better place to regroup and start their own Cybertron. Luckily, Megatron stumbled across the place Shockwave was hiding in. At first, he didn't recognize Shockwave due to the massive change in appearence because of the empurata. Shockwave had just invented a cure for his memory loss and it was just kicking in so he still didn't remember much so he attacked Megatron. During the battle, the cure finally kicked in and his memories came back to him. After some apologies and etc. Megatron asked him to join his team as the scientist. Shockwave agreed.

Shockwave now:

Shockwave usually spends his time in his lab inside the Nemesis. He's a really nice guy since he has his memories/emotions back. He's found ways of making the empurata punishment more bearable for him, as well as finding out how he can remove parts and rebuild his body. But with the lack of materials, he can't do much. Lockdown's a decepticon now, and he's apologized for what he did in the past. Shockwave isn't entirely sure wether to trust him or not though, so he keeps his distance.

He is a big hugger though, careful he doesn't break you. :)

Some additional info:

-He's around 70-75 in robot years. (I've been adjusting their ages)

-His alt most is kinda like the TFP one

-Blitzwing hates him (since he's had some trauma w/ scientists before)

-Pronouns: he/him

-The little sparkling he rescued was Thrust, and after joining the decepticons, he decided to take care of her (yeah Thrust's a she :]) so that someday he can prove to the autobots that he only meant good intentions that day.

That's kinda what I'm brainstorming so far lmao 💀

(I'm also thinking of maybe during the Empurata, Soundwave and Megatron try to save him but he attacks them too before he runs off idk lmao)

[queenvhagar]

I just wanted to drop this here. There is this thing in the fandom where fics that don't fit the "tb is good! rhaenyra is a perfect mother! daemon loves her no matter what!" mold are just hated and the author is insulted by a lot of tb fans (not just tg fics also tb fics). Idk if you know about this one fan who was on ao3 for 8 months and kept leaving long unnecessary comments under fics that had daemonxrhaenyra tagged but focused on other ships saying "the tag is only for daemyra shippers and remove is if you don't actually write 80% of your story about them!". They commented on my fic and out of fear (that it would somehow be shared on team black reddit and dozens of people would insult and bully me) I deleted it. Part of the fandom has created this wall of anger and fear about posting fan work. Just the thought of exploring character dynamics in a way that doesn'tfit their perfect perception of the story is forbidden. Every time I go to ao3 (I usually filter but still) it's the same plot for these tb fics. Every time. Almost as if they are afraid to stray away from the group (ig they know people will read it but it's just boring & sad). Tbh it was the toxicity of tb fans AND the fanfics that made me like the greens more. More interesting fics and analysis.

Most of tb fans have made some fans too afraid to even enjoy what they love in peace without constant worry. That's why I couldn't enjoy season 2.

Sorry it took a bit to respond, but thanks for sharing. I'm not as familiar with the fic side of the fandom as I haven't read many for this fandom yet but I can definitely imagine that TB stans would do this. I wonder if there's a way to post stuff on here and then block users/delete comments that are just toxic? I personally hope this kind of bad behavior by some fans doesn't prevent you from writing or creating what you want, because somebody will resonate with what you've made and be appreciative for it.

TB stans pushed me to TG too tbh. Well, that and the writing. They're just more interesting as characters and I believe their motives for taking the throne are more valid than TB and the hardcore stans oftentimes have no idea what they're talking about because they've never seen any ASOIAF content before in their lives and/or can't do media literacy to understand how the universe works. That's also what drove me away from other social media sites and onto here - the TG community is much larger and there's more space to not be exposed to TB stans and bad behavior (or you can block them and personalize our feeds through filtering to see less of them).

Anyway, sorry you've had this experience, and I hope you consider maybe sharing stuff on here or other TG spaces and blocking toxic stans if they find it (and maybe not including certain official tags that might draw them like dæmyra which notably has toxic stans). Hope any of this helps you feel better about it!

[razielim]

my ideal microblogging platform might actually look something like evernote. on the lefthand side, you have a navigational bar for:

dashboard

blog

activity

notifications

search

settings

on the righthand side you have archive navigation for whichever blog you happen to be looking at - your own or someone else's, featuring a collapsible tree structure, and a toggle between:

chronological. (no trees, just scroll)

tags. each user gets to build, reorganize, and rename their own tag trees as they see fit, separate from whisper tags, and you can navigate their tags as they intend for them to be navigated. anything untagged gets dumped into "unsorted" at the bottom and some blogs just have that and nothing else. like evernote notebooks but social, or dreamwidth nestled tags but more fluid and centralized UI.

dates. the trees are years (if applicable), months, then broken up into more manageable chunks (can be configured in settings by the viewer rather than the blogger)

tags and dates views can be viewed as either full-view posts OR as miniature tiled previews for easier searching. viewing your own blog in either tag or date view functions as a mass post editor (you can select/deselect multiple posts and edit/add/remove tags, delete posts, flag with a new trigger warning, hide from public view, etc.)

the righthand nav bar can be hidden to a little button. it also has an option to hide reblogs and only show original posts. tagging function suggests all the top-level tags first, then the next sub-tags of chosen tree, then the next, but auto-fill is also active to help you out if you want to just tag the most specific tag and have it add in the super-tags for you.

search function offers up related popular tags to the one you entered and allows you to conjoin them with boolean logic. (example: you type in "stormlight" and you see "kaladin" and click the green dot on that tag to AND it, click blue button on "stormlight archive" to OR it (to the OG query, not kaladin), and the red button on "mistborn" to EXCLUDE it bc you don't want greater cosmere stuff at the moment)

ALTERNATIVELY or in some conjunction: you can synonym your tags to big popular ones that have been reviewed and approved so long as they share a word. so there is one global "the stormlight archive tag" but you can use "teehee stormlight shenanigans" to organize your blog and your posts will still show up in a search where the user just uses the global tag that is auto-filled. OR tags can just be searched the same way they are on tumblr. idk if there are cons or pros to any of these, i'm just thinking how i'd maybe want to search for stuff in fandom and be discoverable while still maintaining the freedom to self-organize.

OR perhaps you can use that righthand navigation bar in a similar way in search, saving a bunch of searches into expandable trees so you can easily re-navigate to your favorites. especially useful for a bounty with sideblogs. perhaps you have a tree for fandom searches for your main account, a tree for aesthetic searches for your feel-good sideblog, and a tree historical figures for your inspirational quotes sideblog. or maybe they're all fandom trees, but organized by ship types, whatever you're into.

the tree nav could also be used to organize other users, regardless of whether you follow them, they follow you, both, or neither, you could bookmark users for future reference. by fandom, by event, by favorite authors/artists, etc. so long as neither of you has blocked the other, you could keep track of people without necessarily following them. these trees are also easily renamed, split, re-organized.

i just think fandom works best when people and works are easily found, rediscovered, and shared.

[castlebyersafterdark]

My most controversial take is that I have a bit of sympathy for Fillie stans. Kinda, hear me out.

It probably really sucks for your 2 favorite actors who were clearly close friends for a long time (they were idk why some say otherwise) to just suddenly seem like they don’t Fw each other anymore. Just thinking about how some foah people get when Finn doesn’t mention Noah’s name or like his Instagram posts but times 1000x. With clear evidence that something negative changed in their relationship. Same with Millie’s other friendships with like Sadie and Noah. It’s probably sad for them and I think at least the majority of them are teenagers so I give them some grace. The only thing I don’t like about them and that sets them apart is how they take the content drought, constantly making edits of them from 8 years or ai stuff and tagging the actors in it. There’s other ways to go about it. Rant over :)

Hmmmm. I think it's very mature and kind of you to think this way. It's honestly something to think about, healthy to put yourself in the shoes of people you fundamentally disagree with - and not to say one must try to adapt to their thinking, but to understand and have human empathy, and see the other side to compare and contrast and even strengthen your own beliefs through alternate perspective, and you probably will come out of it with much of the same feelings, but at least you've considered a human angle.

And we don't have to exactly sympathize - and I don't think I do for the most part. But in theory, I can see some threads here I do have a human empathy for. First - yeah. A lot of these people are young. I don't know when they started getting into the show or the actors but I've seen profiles of people who are into it and get struck with an ohhhhh that's a 14 year old, that's a teenager. And it's difficult because I stop and think - yall were in like, kindergarten when this show first came out. And the version of the actors yall focus on are the ages you might be now and they have moved on, a decade moved on. They've grown up. Everything you romanticize is so far removed. It's so weird.

So to me it's like... when did these Mileven or more importantly, Fillie fans get into this? Are they people who have stanned those actors for the last decade and can't move on? Adults my age or older now? These actors are grown, they're living their own lives, they don't even spend time together. At that point, I don't really feel bad because it's not healthy to insist upon this deep of a removed reality.

People might call Foah fans hypocritical for strongly believing in some narrative and hmmm the difference is several:

-Neither Noah or Finn are in a high profile MARRIAGE to someone else. It's not like most Fillie fans are just shipping to say they like the dynamic - they genuinely think it's something. If Finn or Noah got into a heavily public relationship with someone else I'm not gonna waste my time pretending there's conspiracies etc. Will I still think the two of them together is a hot image and enjoy the things we've talked about here? Wistful for earlier ponderings? Yeah, I would have had fun and I'm attracted to them both, but it's not conspiracy territory.

-Another point - I think RFP is totally fine, even when the two people involved aren't together or could be together. Controversial - but it's true. If Finn or Mille wanted to log on to Wattpad or AO3 and search their names, THAT'S ON THEM. If Finn or Noah wanted to log onto Tumblr and search for content about themselves THAT'S ON THEM. Twitter and Instagram and tiktok just fundamentally work different. The way the websites are designed boost EVERYTHING potentially public, it's the kind of service that does that. And everyone tags everything, tooooo many people WANT the people the content is about to "notice it" which I can't say I love that concept if it's outside their fictional characters.

So I don't sympathize with the hyper public RFP adventures for any of the actor combinations in this show. Not when people make that too visible. Could it be youth, could it be immaturity? Most definitely and I do in a way feel for people who don't know any better and are hostile to critique of their behaviors.

Like I said and you said - there are other ways to go about it, but in the age of this type of social media, it's like you need to be visible or it's not worth doing. If people were a little quieter about it and didn't harass others and maintained the reality of situations (and stopped making ugly as all fuck unethical AI slop art) it wouldn't be so controversial and contentious, just something we all could side eye and complain to our friends about...

[vulcajes]

Rules: make a new post with the names of all the files in your wip folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. People send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, then post a little snippet or tell them something about it!

Thanks for the tag @pangaeaseas <3

(Note: I've already been tagged in this and have done this post but I thought I might make another one, removing the ones already asked about and adding some more!)

Slugging it up

Our Last Summer

Battle of the babes

Lol whoops

She's gonna save me

Casinooooooo

Heregulus for the soul

The macabre of it all

An unhappy affair

PRIMUS

Nunnery fic

Boxing? Horror? Idk

Insanity. Pure insanity.

Brothers being silly

Lesbian pirate ship

Lilylene quidditch fic

Jazz bar fic

Open tags for anyone else who wishes to do this!! But if my post does inspire you to join in, please tag me bc I'm nosey and wanna ask people questions <33

[hxhhasmysoul]

As a writer, can you see the appeal of self-shipping? I don't mean to be negative, but I just don't understand that concept. Like, I just got block because I wrote fics about Endeavor/Hakws and Sukuna/Yuuji by my group of fics writers.

Before I was blocked some member criticize me by saying "how could you ship age gap like that, that is wrong in so many way". And I answered, "at least better like me than wrote self shipping like some of you guys. Gojo/reader and Sukuna/reader is just weird in so many ways". Then I was blocked.

Do you think I'm wrong?

Idk if this will answer your question, anon. I hope it's not too rambly and at least a bit helpful.

I have never considered self-shipping from the perspective of being a writer, but that makes sense to me, I only write things that I want to read and can't find, or not find enough of.

And self-shipping doesn't appeal to me as a reader. The second person makes me uncomfortable as a pov, possibly due to my history of abuse. My abuser very often assumed what I must've thought in a given situation and berated me for it and didn't accept me telling her what I actually thought. The second person pov feels too much to me like a stranger trying to tell me what I'm thinking.

This is also why I hate people policing ships in any way, because it’s always assuming what is in a stranger’s head based on confusing discomfort and lack of understanding with morality, and often based on some strange inability to separate fiction from reality. It's very far right fundie coded.

As much as a lot of stuff doesn't appeal to me, including self-shipping and several other things, some of them generally uncontroversial, it doesn't have to appeal to me because people enjoy whatever they enjoy and I can't care less about it. If it makes me uncomfortable like the second person pov or abo or real person shipping, I just avoid reading it. And I also don't have to understand why it appeals to people, it's their thing. 

Nowadays I try not to tell people that they are weird or wrong for doing stuff that is a personal preference. Shipping or most other fandom activity isn't activism or a reflection of someone's character but a personal preference. It only turns into a mark of character when people use fandom to express or try to hide their bigotry. Or use it as an excuse for actual harassment. 

Basically it's okay to find things weird, or react with discomfort. But I've learned to interrogate my repulsion or discomfort. And often it stems from internalised societal or cultural bull shit, that is about policing people and trying to fit everyone into some artificial norm. It doesn’t mean that understanding the roots of your reaction must lead you to liking the thing, but it might help you remove the value judgement. One of the best skills to have is: thinking “this is not for me” and moving on to things you actually like. I’m working really hard on honing this skill. 

For me it’s very freeing to just accept that everyone experiences the world differently and has different needs and as long as their need isn’t to harm others then it’s okay not to understand them and just say okay and move on. You can’t have all the experiences, a lot of stuff people will talk about will never be relatable because their life experience is so incomparable to yours. It’s best to accept that understanding everything and everyone is impossible but also unnecessary.  You don’t need to give everything your mental energy.

As to the person blocking you. Good riddance, they will thankfully not expose you to their shitty opinions anymore. They acted in a shitty way towards you and then couldn’t take a strong reply from you. I’m of the opinion that one should only start shit if they are ready to get the same kind of energy back. I feel no sympathy for them.

Also I’m a huge supporter of blocking people, I block at least one person every time I go into the JJK tags. Either for tag spamming or not tagging so my tag blocking doesn’t work, or just for shitty opinions so I don’t have to see them and sigh.

And their opinion is shit because shipping isn’t wrong or problematic, it’s just people imagining things. What's problematic in the JJK fandom is the racism, the misogyny, the transphobia, the harassment, the graphic vitriol towards the author and so on.

[akukoaday]

once again legs are too short. I think I drew the heads too big? Also idk how to tag this one, I know artistic nudity is okay with tumblr and this is non-sexual and there are only four of you, so sorry to surprise cock I suppose ajsdfkljaslkdf. But anyways some HCs below the cut.

Kuko: He/he transman Gay Started HRT when he ran away to Tokyo as a teenager after his fight with his dad. He got his top surgery after the 2nd DRB. Kuko had been planning to fund it himself with the prize money. When they didn't win, it came up in conversation and Hitoya ends up paying for it. I started off imagining Kuko as someone VERY top dysphoric, but as time goes on and I'm not projecting onto Kuko as much as I used to (not because I love him less, but more of me appreciating Kuko for who he is instead) the intensity of that dysphoria can vary based on my moods and AUs I come up with. I like to imagine that no matter what Kuko would want top surgery, but depending on scenario/mood Kuko would be okay with people seeing/touching his pre-op kuubies. Kuko has no bottom dysphoria in contrast. "Canonically" Kuko is not into anal, so if he's bottoming its PiV. I really fuck with how muscular he was drawn in the first BAT/DH manga. I like to draw him a bit more broader and muscular as such. Hairy legs, pits, and crotch, has sparse hair on chest and stomach. Has nipples, navel, and VCH piercings. I'm 99% sure canon Kuko has some kind of body piercing somewhere on his body. I like to imagine he got his dick pierced in Tokyo, and he got it done in front of Ichiro to show off how cool he is. Jyushi: he/they non-binary bi/pan He's lean and toned. He canonically does muscle training, I imagine his body to be quite like Vil's from Twisted Wonderland. (Jyushi has BIG Pomefiore energy ngl). His penis is uncircumcised. Removes most of his body hair. Has no body piercings yet, but will likely get some. Being around Kuko doesn't help. (I imagine if piercings come up, Kuko always tries to talk someone into getting their dick pierced.) Hitoya: he/him non-binary bisexual with a preference for men Unlike Kuko and Jyushi, HItoya very rarely talks about his gender, and really only opens up about it after you have earned a LOT of his trust. Jakurai, Jyushi, and Kuko are the only ones who know as of right now. Hitoya is masculine for the most part, but does fancy lipstick, heels, and pearl jewelry. But again, its very rare for him to sport anything of that nature out in public these days. NB Hitoya kinda started off as a joke, in the vein of "no one in BAT is cis", but I feel vindicated by canon with Hitoya's EW 03 look. My man is VERY babygirl there. I like to imagine him as a bit broader than his canon body. Probably has a little bit of belly fat, but you can't really see it with his clothes on. Very hairy!!! His penis is circumcised. While HitoKu is my favorite Kuko ship, my favorite Hitoya ship is actually HitoJaku. I really love their dynamic. They're so dumb, and Hitoya really brings out a lot of Jakurai's cuteness I think. I can't decide if Hitoya has any piercings or not. I feel like he might have had some at one point, as he's an overgrown chuuni, but now? ehhhh. Depends on my mood.

[koreanbibliophilegirl]

I suppose I should talk about possible/confirmed plan changes to my WIPs?

(Fair warning: I've mostly calmed down, but I don't want to work myself up again, so I'm gonna be writing in a normal tone. I promise I'm not ignoring or trying to make light of the whole thing! I just don't wanna talk too deeply about it. All the love and support to Shelby Shubble & all victims of abuse!!!💖)

First off, I believe characters are separate from their creators- anyone who continues to create content about c!Wilbur has my support and respect!

(I will most probably continue to consume content related to c!Wilbur as well, though I will tag him as "c!Wilbur" now, rather than "Wilbur Soot"- I've been tagging all dsmp characters only as their corresponding CC's names, mostly out of laziness. For instance, c!Tommy wasn't tagged as "c!Tommy", he was tagged as "TommyInnit". I don't want to change my whole tagging system, but c!Wilbur at least will be tagged as "c!Wilbur" from now on!)

None of my writing was RPF in the first place, it was all about the characters- but I'm not sure if I myself am ready to freely write c!Wilbur or fanfiction!Wilbur stuff yet. Maybe I never will be; idk.

So here are the changes I'll be making!

DSMP Superpower AU: c!Wilbur will stay. I was planning to include all the DSMP characters(The 'mains', at least, I'm not sure about secondary characters yet), and the notion of leaving c!Wilbur out doesn't really appeal to me. So c!Wilbur will still appear here!

Temporal Transcendence: Honestly, at first I thought TT!Wilbur would be irreplaceable, but after some thought, I was surprised to find it might just work! Karl and Niki would play bigger roles than I expected, but it could definitely work. Heck, it might even be better than the original plan! So I think Wilbur will likely be cut from TT.

Oshi No Ko but Happier AU: I'm on the fence about this one. Wilbur's character isn't CRUCIAL crucial, but he's still pretty important. The outline of the plot will look much different if he does indeed end up getting cut out. So I'm gonna mark this WIP as a solid "idk" and just work it out as I go.

Rarepair Royalty AU: I've never talked about this AU. This one is a bit funny, cuz cutting Wilbur's character out actually solves some of the problems I had with the outline! The plot will actually work out better if Secondborn Prince Wilbur didn't exist- so he's definitely cut from this one! I just need to find someone new to pair with Karl. (Probably Seapeekay; I have the currently ongoing MCYT crackship brackets to thank for the ship!)

Lucky Star: Another fic that's never been talked about- this one is my newest WIP! :D I wasn't even sure where I was going to fit Wilbur in- a character called Wilbur never even existed here. Well, he did, but I'd deleted him for plot reasons a while ago and was in the middle of trying to find another slot. (Cyberknife is Techno's dead twin in this WIP btw- he's not a replacement character for Wilbur, the twin was always going to be Cyberknife.)

Tome AU: SBI literally only serves as Tommy's rich and powerful family here- at least, up to where I've fleshed out. Wilbur's only moment in the spotlight is when he argues with Tommy over dinner, bc he doesn't like how Tommy "got stuck" raising baby Shroud with Purpled(who found Shroud in a trash can), & is caught glaring at Purpled. I'll edit him out maybe. Or leave him, he's not a major character after all. idk.

Others(Mostly Bedrock Bros-centric): Honestly, I never could figure out how to write Wilbur's character that well. So 'Wilbur' isn't too big a character in most of these. Will likely cut.

Tom and Bunnypig(Bee and Puppycat AU): You know what, I think I'm going to make this half-baked idea into a proper WIP. Wilbur never existed here either, so yeah.

CONCLUSION: The whole thing is a mess, and I'm sad and mad, as we all are, but I'm gonna stop thinking about how horrible Wilbur Soot is & focus on how brave Shelby Shubble is!

I'm intrigued at what removing a single character did to my plot outlines, and hopefully, this will open a lot of new opportunities in my writing. I'm certainly looking forward to how my writing skills will develop after this.

To everyone who's actually read through this; thank you for reading this whole thing, I know it's kinda long.😅 Have a cookie and a hug, we all need it🍪🫂 Remember to drink water & eat something! All my love💖💖

[explainslowly]

it is fun to contemplate like the, fandom significance of ships, looking at that poll, significant ones seem to me as:

Spock/Kirk OBVIOUSLY

Mulder/Scully again, obviously.

Watson/Sherlock kind of cosmically, generally, has to be there right? Sherlock Holmes obviously has fandom significance outside of shipping primarily.

OK, controversial one but - do we think any Harry Potter ship makes it? Was any one ship specifically significant? Or was it the general vibe? And the bloody shipwars, of course. I am a wolfstar guy but wolfstar does not feel significant to me. Nor Drarry nor the het ships that had people sending death threats to each other.

Larry OBVIOUSLY

Jack Harkness/Ianto I remember this one making people soooo insane. Example of ship that is both canon and significant, imo. Perhaps for it's canonicity.

10th doctor/Rose probably. IDC.

Jensen/Jared might belong here. Unfortunately. For originating both the omegaverse and the original male dog tag on ao3. For the sheer evil energy.

Reylo search your heart you know it to be true.

Those Les Miserables twinks. Probably? Maybe. IDK. Discuss.

I don't think any MCU ship makes it, but tbf if any would, it would be stucky.

I am paradoxically very removed from anime shipping. If any made it probably Sasunaru would be the one. I feel like anime shipping has it's own world that does not communicate with live media fandom. Therefore the significance is like. Shrug.

Girl where is Xena/Gabrielle. GIRLLLLLLLL.

Carlos/Cecil probably, right? The breaking open of the fiction podcast flood.

With heavy heart I have to say, probably not Proffesor X/Magneto. Even if they sooo divorced and we are missing divorce representation in this poll.

I don't think Klaine was significant as a fandom thing. Case of canon giving you pretty much all you could possibly want from a romance storyline and then possibly a bunch of stuff you didn't, lol.

Destiel this, more than anything, is the Destiel website. 113k fics on ao3, baybee.

Will/Hannibal I don't know. I'm torn. It's so good and Fannibals are little freaks. But I feel like they are doing their own thing in their little corner.

Sam/Frodo - or some tolkien shit? Probably?

I am like under-studied on rpf ships (more probably belong here) and femslash. The poll itself also has heavy recency bias as does my memory (I wasn't a shipper until my mid twenties). See my confusion about tolkien shit.

Consolation prize #1 - migratory slash fandom - hiiii Sterek, Rodney/John, Phlint, etc, I hate youuuu alllllll <3

Consolation prize #2 - pair the spares - hiiiii shit like Sabriel, you make my eyes bleed <3

Anyway, feel free to discuss <3

[dr-lizortecho]

Thanks for the tag @crepuscularqueens! This was a whole lot of fun (I might love talking about writing- but reading is so much more fun to discuss)

Rules: generate ten tags (here) and rate them according to how likely you are to read them

-10 -> very dissuaded

0 - don’t care either way

+10 -> very enticed

nope -> if it’s a hard no and you’d never click on a fic with that tag or or you even have the tag blocked or you’d insta click out of the fic if it wasn’t tagged

1) Vaginal Sex: +10, if I’m looking at something with explicit sexual content there’s nothin not to like about this particular tag, though ngl it tells me almost nothing about the content itself

2) Robots: -8, unless robots are like super crucial imma not walk through the door- cause they’re just not my thing

3) Overstimulation: +10, it’s sexy and that’s all

4) Banishment: +5, as long as it’s got a happy ending for the character(s). Cause thematically it’s so much fun- like where do they go when they’re removed from home? Who do they go to? Who do they become untethered by duty and loyalty and obligation???

5) Bittersweet Ending: -10, my friends would have to have wrote it, I’m a hardcore happy ending girlie

6) Royalty: 0, depends on the story focus/set-up

7) Pegging: +5, soooo this is difficult cause sexy wise it’s very high, except if it’s m/f there’s a good chance some sort of misogyny or misandry at play

8) Exhaustion: 0, idk truly, my brain would just skip over it probably

9) (Character) is an Idiot: +10, so long as said character fits that within canon, like truly this describes one part of my of my ships

10) Implied/Referenced Child Abuse: 0, okay, so I’m very very particular and sensitive about this topic, and fan fic is so bad about it tbh, everyone was beat by their dad and emotionally tortured when it comes to fanon and even more so if they actually suffered abuse in canon. So I’m kinda weary about anything tagged as such even though I find it an important conversation to be broached by fiction. All in all it depends on the amount of nuance by the writer, if they even subconsciously try to apply levels to abuse and attempt to create apologies and excuses for anything not physical, the writers overall understanding of the affects of said abuse on the psyche and that it’s not just 🥺 “I have trust/daddy issues, fix me” 🥺 because time in and time out that is the narrative, that abuse doesn’t wire a child’s brain- that they’ll just get fucked perfect by some guy™️ and their trauma responses (which they’ve usually depicted as evil and gross) will just melt away, and then there’s the whole ptsd cropping up during bdsm but that really like makes me want claw my eyes out (sorry- I have FEELINGS about this subject as it pertains to fanfic/fandom)

No pressure tags @shipperqueen6 @13shadesofanni @ajna-eye-cogitations and anyone who wants to!!!

[itslikeababywithamustache]

Anyway yeah I made the lowkey side tag awhile ago to start talking about other fandom stuff but I think I might just turn that into the whole blog at this point bc I'm not really doing any big creator stuff for any fandoms I'm in rn, but I do want to rant about things but I never want to on my main for some reason?? Idk why it's just like a weird rule in my brain I didn't get a choice in making, but I also don't rant much over here because I'm like "well but like it's supposed to be lab rats..." and it felt weird to keep ranting about a bunch of other stuff when I wasn't also engaging in what the blog was supposed to be.

Not that I'm uninterested in the show anymore or anything, I'll still talk about it along with other things, just won't be my focus.

My mental health has just really kinda like. Idk I dunno if I'd classify it as "tanked" but definitely done something and I just don't have the motivation and energy to engage and create the way I used to. Which I miss, and really hope I can get back. But for now there are a few suspicions about some stuff and I'm just tired and I don't wanna be a definitive thing anymore and just want a space to ramble freely (where my brain will let me).

So yeah. This is Officially gonna stop being an Official Lab Rats Universe Blog now. I'm gonna change the description after this post but I'm not really gonna touch the rest of the blog. Might mess with the profile pic at some point but I like the URL. And I'm gonna leave the tag pages and all that so people can still find stuff. Plus I can't change or remove any of it on my phone anyway. Also also if I ever do make more stuff I've got things already set up to just add to for the archive. So. Yeah.

You're also still welcome to submit and ask stuff too, like, kinda obviously probably cause I'm gonna leave open, but idk I feel like I should throw that out there, I'm not like, hermitizing myself.

ALSO. Just bc I haven't been engaging... don't think I haven't seen y'all changing the Kaz/Chase ship name to that abomination of colors

I started them I am not afraid to end them.