#unappreciated superheroes

[ominous-feychild-writes]

“What if we just… quit?” I ask suddenly.

Noah is washing the dirt and plaster off his arms, scrubbing them so hard that what little of his skin isn’t scarred is bright pink. His scars are so faded that they look decades old.

We’re only twenty, but he looks so much older.

“I can’t,” he says simply, not looking at me as he washes the last bit of soap down the sink. His voice barely even broke.

The television host’s voice chatters for us.

“Stormwalker and Supernova: heroes, or no better than the villains?” it says, staticky from poor connection.

Our apartment is on the outskirts of the city—even as government workers, we’re paid far too little to live downtown. Even if it’d make our jobs easier to be there.

“—today the two heroes helped make a record number of arrests, stopping three riots and two villain attacks within one day. But are they any—”

“Why not?” I ask, pushing myself off the stool and moving to put a hand on his shoulder.

He shrugs it off.

“Because it’s the right thing to do.”

He finally turns to look at me, silent resignation written all over his face. He tries to fake a reassuring smile, but I know better.

“—left thousands of dollars in damages and thousands more homeless as—”

That’s their excuse for paying us so little. ‘Because they need it to repair the destruction left in our wake.’ ‘If we want to be paid better, we should do a better job; don’t cause so much damage.’

If it’s so easy, why don’t you do it yourself? Try dodging lasers while saving people, while leading the villains away from populated areas, while trying to take them down! Then—then you can tell us to ‘do a better job!’

“Even if they can’t appreciate it,” Noah finishes defeatedly.

The pain in his eyes makes me want to fly all the way to the reporters, standing out front of the half-destroyed West Bank and talking trash about us, and to punch them so hard they go flying into the wreckage themselves.

Like Noah was when Genesis made him pick between himself and the people trying to flee the streets.

Lasers do an incredible amount of damage, even to people whose skin is hard as rock and bones are hard as steel. Even Noah—Stormwalker himself—couldn’t fight against those.

That kind of force—powerful enough to send a man of steel through stone walls—is strong enough to cause cuts and scrapes and bruises on one of the strongest heroes in the world.

But, yeah. ‘Do better.’

I can’t even step in myself. I have to stand back from afar, watching Noah get bloodied and bruised while reporters salivate at the thought of talking shit about us once the danger is over. I have to wait for Noah to get close enough for me to heal him.

Because that’s all I can do. Heal.

Next to Noah, I feel useless.

I’m just as squishy as everyone else, but I still put myself at risk in order to help the heroes. Well, mostly just Noah. But he and Supernova are the only heroes in this city, so.

‘Do better,’ they say.

I want to spit in all of their faces.

‘It’s the right thing to do, even if they don’t appreciate it,’ Noah says.

“Okay,” I say gently. I fight the urge to cup my hand around his cheek.

Part 2 | Part 3

Divider from @cafekitsune

[ominous-faechild]

“What if we just… quit?” I ask suddenly.

Noah is washing the dirt and plaster off his arms, scrubbing them so hard that what little of his skin isn’t scarred is bright pink. His scars are so faded that they look decades old.

We’re only twenty, but he looks so much older.

“I can’t,” he says simply, not looking at me as he washes the last bit of soap down the sink. His voice barely even broke.

The television host’s voice chatters for us.

“Stormwalker and Supernova: heroes, or no better than the villains?” it says, staticky from poor connection.

Our apartment is on the outskirts of the city—even as government workers, we’re paid far too little to live downtown. Even if it’d make our jobs easier to be there.

“—today the two heroes helped make a record number of arrests, stopping three riots and two villain attacks within one day. But are they any—”

“Why not?” I ask, pushing myself off the stool and moving to put a hand on his shoulder.

He shrugs it off.

“Because it’s the right thing to do.”

He finally turns to look at me, silent resignation written all over his face. He tries to fake a reassuring smile, but I know better.

“—left thousands of dollars in damages and thousands more homeless as—”

That’s their excuse for paying us so little. ‘Because they need it to repair the destruction left in our wake.’ ‘If we want to be paid better, we should do a better job; don’t cause so much damage.’

If it’s so easy, why don’t you do it yourself? Try dodging lasers while saving people, while leading the villains away from populated areas, while trying to take them down! Then—then you can tell us to ‘do a better job!’

“Even if they can’t appreciate it,” Noah finishes defeatedly.

The pain in his eyes makes me want to fly all the way to the reporters, standing out front of the half-destroyed West Bank and talking trash about us, and to punch them so hard they go flying into the wreckage themselves.

Like Noah was when Genesis made him pick between himself and the people trying to flee the streets.

Lasers do an incredible amount of damage, even to people whose skin is hard as rock and bones are hard as steel. Even Noah—Stormwalker himself—couldn’t fight against those.

That kind of force—powerful enough to send a man of steel through stone walls—is strong enough to cause cuts and scrapes and bruises on one of the strongest heroes in the world.

But, yeah. ‘Do better.’

I can’t even step in myself. I have to stand back from afar, watching Noah get bloodied and bruised while reporters salivate at the thought of talking shit about us once the danger is over. I have to wait for Noah to get close enough for me to heal him.

Because that’s all I can do. Heal.

Next to Noah, I feel useless.

I’m just as squishy as everyone else, but I still put myself at risk in order to help the heroes. Well, mostly just Noah. But he and Supernova are the only heroes in this city, so.

‘Do better,’ they say.

I want to spit in all of their faces.

‘It’s the right thing to do, even if they don’t appreciate it,’ Noah says.

“Okay,” I say gently. I fight the urge to cup my hand around his cheek.

Parts 2&3

[writingsonsaturn]

mirrorball

{ masterlist } { the 'taylor swift' series }

����: so this was made in between like two weeks, so if it's a bit choppy and seems horrible im so sorry please forgive me i love you

wc - 1.2k

content warning: angsty, peter being an oblivious unappreciative boyfriend

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

Everything you did was brushed off.

No matter how extravagant, or otherworldly, Peter was always either too busy working on making his suit better, or he was out saving other people. 

Obviously, you weren’t cold-hearted. 

It wasn’t the fact Peter was saving other people. It was the fact he never looked up to give you an honest five minute conversation anymore, or that he never saw, maybe not even cared about all the things you were doing for him. Trying to take the load of being a young superhero off his shoulders, you had started doing the laundry, dishes, making all meals, patching up his suits, and many, many more, painfully tiring tasks all in the name of love.

The only, and biggest problem here was that he never once said a simple ‘thanks!’ or any acknowledgement whatsoever that what you were doing was helpful. Although it wasn’t your goal to earn points in a system you weren’t even aware of, you still would’ve accepted even a simple head nod and kiss, but nope, nothing.

It all blew up on one fateful evening when you had just spent over four and a half hours making one of Peter's favorite meals for his birthday. 

You were so excited to show him the birthday gift that you had worked extra hours at your job for, everything was all set up in your teeny tiny living room and now all you had to do was sit and wait for your boyfriend to arrive home.

The click of the door sounded out through the apartment, announcing to the quiet apartment your boyfriend's arrival. “Hey, babe” Peter said as he walked into the apartment, he didn’t even look up and properly acknowledge your existence, he just simply knew you were always home before him. As he walked in you noticed he had the newspaper in his hand, probably another hit piece on Spider-Man, claiming he’s a monster.

“Hi, my love” you greeted him enthusiastically, walking over to him and wrapping your arms around his neck. He set the newspaper down and gave into your warmth, allowing his tense body to relax into your arms, then all of the sudden he pulled away.

“I'm sorry, baby, but I gotta get out in the city” his voice was fast-paced, almost giving you no time to process what he was doing. 

“Peter, are you joking?” you practically whispered, “It’s your birthday.”

Peter noticed the hurt expression on your face, and only then did he decide to look around and see everything you had set up for him. There were streamers hanging from the ceiling, a homemade sign that read “Happy Birthday, Spidey!” with little hand crafted webs around it up on the wall. Sat on the table was a homemade cake and a wonderfully prepared dinner. 

“Oh wow, Honey, this looks delicious! But i really have to go”

Your face dropped from the optimistic smile, to dead cold. You realised that you and your feelings will always be second best to his double life as a superhero.

“Peter, please for once can you just sit down, and have a goddamn conversation with me” you spoke lowly, nearly pleading for him to just sit down and give you the time of day. You think you might’ve actually, finally, be seeing how absolutely tired you looked. 

“For fucks sake, can you appreciate just this one fucking thing!” your voice gradually went louder for each syllable your sentence hit. The look of defeat portrayed in your eyes pierced through Peter’s soul, he felt his heart drop at how tired your face seemed, the way you seemed to have distanced yourself the moment he dismissed your thoughtful dinner. 

“It’s- It’s like you don’t even care anymore Peter” you weren’t yelling, which scared Peter more than if you were to be screaming five centimeters from his face and waving your hands, it was like you had given up. “I bought you a gift, open it before you leave” you whispered out before grabbing your bag and leaving. 

Peter’s eyes followed your sulking body out the door, before landing onto the gift sat nicely on the table with a red and blue ribbon tightly secured around the small square container. He walked toward the table with his head held low, gently picking up the present, as he opened it his eyes filled up with tears and he sat down on the edge of the couch, realizing how badly he had fucked this up.

Sitting in the box was the refurbished watch Uncle Ben wore, the glass protecting the arms of the watch had been shattered and links had been missing. Uncle Ben wanted to get it fixed but passed before he could get a chance. Peter remembered showing this exact watch to you when he took you to meet Aunt May, it was left on the dresser the two had shared, Aunt May never could put it away.

“Fuck” Peter exhaled, he set the watch down and ran out the door, he was desperate to find you and beg on his knees for your forgiveness. He was well aware he didn’t deserve that, but the thought of losing you had just crashed down over his head like a piano falling from the sky.

As soon as he got outside the air of the looming fall hit his face, as he frantically looked around he noticed your figure sitting on a bench right outside the apartment complex, watching the cars and people pass you by. Peter took a breath of relief before stepping closer, only to realize the tears glistening off your face.

“Baby, I am so, so, so incredibly sorry” he quickly tumbled out the words as if he couldn’t stop them, your eyes met his when you heard his pleas. He had no idea how badly you wanted to just say “it’s okay” and forget about this whole thing but you knew better. 

You knew doing that would only allow for that behavior to continue, and you just can’t go on like that anymore.

“I had to work extra hours to be able to pay for that to be refurbished, you know?” you said with a bittersweet undertone lacing your voice, “and it’s not even that, it’s the fact you just didn’t fucking care” the words came with your gasps for air as sobs tore through your throat, “you don’t care.”

Peter could only look at you in anguish, he fights villains, he stops your average bad guy on a daily basis, he can even tell when something dangerous is about to happen before it does, but he couldn’t tell his girlfriend was breaking before his very eyes with him being the root cause.

He was the hammer to your mirror.

Sitting down on the bench right next to you, he wrapped his arms around you and held you as you let out the most guttural sounds he’s ever heard come out of your body. He hates it. 

All Peter could do was rocking you back and forth, whispering apologies into your ear, promising to be better for you. 

You wanted to believe him, you really did, but all you could muster up was,

“Prove it.”

[eqt-95]

day 1 | leaves / race against the clock

supercorptober / whumptober

Time had always been on Kara’s side. The nightly chime of midnight, the seasonal shift of colors, the churn of years; they all passed thoughtlessly with predictable continuation.

There was no light, just the tunnel.

And, like the most unappreciated, the passing of time suited her just fine. Until it didn’t. 

Until the ticking mortality of those around her ebbed closer to a light she wasn’t privileged to see.

Until it became her personal boogeyman - looming and clouding the present with fears of no future.

Until time made her reckless.

With time, skittishness feigned ‘heroism’; as the corners of eyes wrinkled with laugh lines; as light hit differently against grey-flecked jet-black hair; as curves softened and stamina faded.

“I had it,” Lena huffed.

“What’s the point of being married to a superhero if I can’t carry the heavy stuff?”

“They’re just groceries, darling.”

“In those heels?”

Skittishness grew to paranoia. Kara didn’t call it that. She called it vigilance. Every second saved was a second back. 

“He had a gun.”

“A squirt gun,” Lena countered.

“It could have been real,” Kara offered with a shrug. “Can’t be too careful.”

It intensified. She calculated away the selfishness. Interrupting fate became defensible.

“You’re ok,” she whispered into soft curls. She inhaled: the familiar lilac stained with smoke. “You’re safe-”

Frantic palms cradled resistant arms until Lena broke free. “Kara, the others-”

“There wasn’t time,” she reasoned.

“What? What do you mean-?” Lena begged. Her cheeks were dirtied with ash. A crumpled tower engulfed in flames reflected in her darkened eyes. “The volunteers, the technicians, the-?”

“There wasn’t time,” Kara repeated, shielding herself behind a flimsy wall of heroic justification. Her fingers stretched, reaching, hungry to feel the tangible pulse echoing in her ears. “If I hadn’t-”

“No,” Lena interrupted, voice shaking; broken. A tear trailed its way down Lena’s ashen cheek. Overhead helicopters whirled uselessly. Around them firefighters lingered aimlessly. Reality struck Lena’s defiant gaze and landed heavily onto her shoulders.

“I had no choice-”

Lena tore away from desperate hands. “Yes you did.”

It escalated - this fear of time, of what an end could mean. It morphed and warped and gave life to Kara’s irrational actions. It fed a fear she couldn’t stop. 

It was bittersweet then that the end still came. It came all the same. She just didn't expect it to happen

“Lena? Lena, wait.”

with empty hangers,

“Please just-”

a barren night table,

“Babe, please.”

and a growing rift.

"Don't go,” Kara wept. “Please don’t leave.”

- - - - day 2 | courage / trust issues

[artbyblastweave]

I just saw someone posit that the first step on Ultimate Reed richards' path to becoming the Maker was his encounter with the Reed Richards of the Zombie universe. Do you think that there's any meat to that interpretation?

Yes and no. The thing about Ultimate Fantastic Four is that the first six issues in particular are a really interesting re-imagining of the team to bring the entire thing in line with the artistic and political sensibilities of Ultimate Spider-Man, Ultimate X-Men and The Ultimates. The biggest and most important change is that the FF aren't well-established adult professionals who fucked around and found out, and they aren't driving the bus- they've been swallowed up by the same military-industrial pipeline that Nick Fury is grooming Peter Parker to become a part of over in Ultimate Spider-Man. Reed in this version slingshots from a neglectful/abusive home life where he was completely unappreciated, to a think-tank that's purely interested in juicing him like a lemon for actionable military technologies. There was a very deliberate psychological pressure-cooker situation that Bendis was setting up there, this kid was never going to be as successful or as well-adjusted as 616 Reed.

That said, though, the zombie situation isn't totally unrelated to this, because 2149 Reed was presenting himself as 616 Reed as part of the honeypot, he was presenting himself as an aspirational vision of Ultimate Reed's future development. Here's what you could be a part of! A dimension where you're globally respected, an elder luminary of a community of thousands of superheroes, happily married with a family! And then Ultimate Reed he takes the bait and from there it's Whoops! All Cannibals. And I can't imagine that you'd come away from a rugpull like that with a less bleak outlook on your either your personal prospects or the prospects of the world at large. And more than anything in the world I want any video essayist trying to do an involved rundown of The Maker's character arc to have to give a deep sigh and spend a couple of minutes talking about the long-term implications of the Zombie Dimension. I am not going to let anybody memory hole the Zombie Dimension

[marinettesaltprompts]

Inspired by one of maribat-menagerie's proposals

One of the big things that happen in almost every Maribat fic is Adrien getting stripped of his Miraculous so a batboy can be the Black Cat. But you could actually play with this idea of Adrien becoming Catwoman's apprentice/accomplice:

The story starts in stereotypical Maribat fashion with Marinette feeling unappreciated for her efforts and easily falling for whatever Batboy came into town to solve all her problems. Things progress as normal: Robin uncovers Gabriel, Lila gets sent packing and Adrien gets thrown to the wolves because he didn't do what the Batboy did- left to enjoy the association of being Hawkmoth's son while losing Plagg.

Because it turns out that Ladybug does actually believe in the idea that the holders of creation and destruction are soulmates, just not with him.

Anyhow normally this is where Adrien's story in a Maribat fic would end. He's condemned to a mundane life of public disgrace and suffering while Marinette goes to Gotham to live the superhero dream.

But not this time. Sure, Marinette leave with her Box and the Ring now fits on Robin's finger, but Adrien's not quite done. Sure it seems that way and as he retreats from public life under the heat of condemnation he falls into a deep depression. He's lost everything. His friends (can't be associated with Hawkmoth's son). His family (Nathalie is probably dead, Gabriel is in prison forever and The Gorilla needs employment after all). Even his home was seized by the The State- if not for a small trust fund Nathalie had had the foresight to set up for him he'd have nowhere to live at all.

The best he can do is live in an old house far in the countryside, hoping that people won't recognize him with his dyed black hair. At this point, all Adrien has to his name of his old life are his parents rings- one last gift snuck to him by Nathalie. Holding a secret within whose revelation robbed him of even his humanity.

It seems that after everything he did to try and make a life for himself outside of his gilded cage, he's doomed to spend his life in this new one. A cage made of crumbling old walls who were his only protection from a hostile world beyond them.

At least until one day, a certain Cat shows up. Not Plagg as Adrien dreamed of seeing again, or even the Robin who appeared in his nightmares to taunt him, but the infamous antihero Catwoman.

She' was surprised that he noticed her sneaking in, but Adrien's senses were still sharp from his time as Chat Noir. But it makes no real difference, one way or the other she's leaving with what she came for: The Graham de Vanily rings.

It turns out that his dear Auntie still wanted "her heirlooms" back, so she'd contracted Catwoman to go get them. Normally she wouldn't take such contracts, but with the Bats having ready access to magical jewellery her usual picking grounds were becoming harder to play in.

This breaks something in Adrien. After everything he's lost, after everyone had abandoned him in one way or the other, after neither Felix or Amelie could be bothered to help him in his time of need they still wouldn't let him have his soul?

Catwoman seems bemused by his spluttering, but she's intrigued enough to let him elaborate. Adrien knows from one look at her that he has no chance of beating her in a fight anyway, she'd get his rings one way or the other so he might as well tell her the truth. It's not like he owed anyone his silence and no one had actually cared about his side of the story since he'd lost Plagg.

So he spills. He takes the chance to rant about his situation, how he'd tried his best to be Ladybug's partner but he'd been pushed away, sidelined without cause. how his parents had had a magical slave collar on him since his creation. How his friends had abandoned him, how Ladybug who'd promised him "them against the world" had dropped him like garbage the second she'd gotten a "better model".

Selena listens, but she also happens to know Marinette herself- at least through others and knows the story on both sides now. So she bemusedly tries to correct him- only to find herself corrected:

Catwoman: You didn't exactly try to help her that much did you though?

Adrien: Ladybug pushed me away every time I tried. But I was always there for her. Every time she needed someone to fall on his sword for a plan. Every time she needed a shield I used myself. The one time I failed to show up, she stopped calling on me and started using an entire team instead.

...

Catwoman: Were you really that great a partner though? Robin picked up the ring and did a better job than you did even though you'd had it for months, plus all the training as a holder the old Guardian gave you that Robin didn't have while he was in France.

Adrien: What training? Fu never trained me. I didn't even know he trained Ladybug. As for Robin, maybe the fact that he's been trained by Batman for years before he even came to Paris might play a factor?

You know, I had martial arts and acrobatics before I put on the ring but I'll bet training under "the dark knight" might just be a bit above that. Oh, and Ladybug actually told Robin things. I didn't even know about the Grimoire until after the last battle.

...

Selena: But what about your friends? I've done my research you know? They said you were two-faced and cowardly, you knew about Lila and did nothing. You got your friend Marinette to take the high road and do the same.

Adrien: Did nothing? As far as I knew when I gave that advice Lila was just lying for attention and the first time I tried to get her to stop she got Akumatised on the spot. Marinette was freaking out and acting crazy, the only thing she was doing was making herself look worse in front of the class and risking Lila getting Akumatised again. It was the best advice I could give her until Hawkmoth was captured, or unless someone could prove she'd done something bad enough to get her sent out of Paris.

But I did what I could.

When Lila got Marinette expelled, I was the one who stepped up and helped her. No one else. I couldn't prove anything. I'm not a Robin trained by the Greatest Detective in the world. But I knew what Lila wanted and I used myself as collateral to get her to stop.

And two-faced? That's rich from my "friends". I've had time to think and realise what they were doing all those times they left me and Marinette together. Even before they left me out to dry they treated me more like some prize for Marinette to win instead of a friend, it was all some big game to them.

Now none of them speak to me now that I'm not a rich-boy celebrity anymore. It's like they all decided that I'm responsible for their mistakes with Lila.

---

And so the conversation continues. For the first time, Adrien finally gets to tell his side of the story, even if it's to someone who came to rob him of the one thing of value he had left. And Selena... is intrigued.

She looks carefully over the boy. He's a pretty thing, but he's also clearly strong. There's still lean muscle on him despite the year trapped in this miserable little house. It suddenly strikes her ironically just how much like one of Bruce's Robin's he is- especially with his hair dyed black.

An athletic, intelligent young man made from birth to be a perfect heir to an evil father? One whose socialization had come far, far too late to be healthy? An echo of Damian.

All around her were cheap, but well-read books on an eclectic range of subjects. Tim would find plenty of common interests with this one.

The spark wasn't there now, not in this broken shell of a boy. But when Chat Noir had been in his prime even Dick would have found a cat-themed mirror for his puns and the sheer joy he took in his freedom as a superhero.

Thankfully there's precious little of Jason in him and the similarities to the rest of the bat-family faded from there. But it was undeniable how well he fit the shape of a Robin, even down to the lack of a family with Gabriel Agreste apparently having no interest in his son even before his life sentence.

But he wasn't a Robin now was he? He was a cat.

And in this place, in this dead-end of a life: he had nothing to lose.

Selena asks him for his rings.

Adrien, exhausted from his rant, simply hands them over. What would be the point in fighting?

But to his surprise: Selene doesn't leave or mock him or anything else that he expected. But rather she raises the rings to her skilled eyes to make sure she had the real things and then asks him a question;

Answer me; was anything you just said a lie?

Adrien is compelled to confirm that it was the truth.

Selena considers him once more. Considers his performance as Chat Noir again. Considers what he'd achieved without the training he should have had.

There was potential here. Potential that had been discarded and left to rot. Potential with no loyalties left to his family, friends or anything else. With a new name, a new mask: this boy could become to her what Bruce's Robins were to him.

And really, the Vanily's money couldn't really compare to what she could do with a kitten of her own. One with a bit of resentment ready to be aimed at Bruce's new foundlings that were annoying her so badly.

Selena: So Adrien, you were a bit of a rulebreaker once upon a time. Do you still have that in you?

It turns out that Adrien very much did.

Wonderful prompt! A lot of salt fic stories don't tend to focus on what would come after the story ends, it just assumes that anyone that isn't Marinette just lives miserably ever after. Having Adrien make a comeback without a even having a miraculous sounds actually dope.

[total-drama-wlw]

welcome to total drama wlw week! (introduction/pinned)

the purpose of this event week and blog is to celebrate and shine some light on an overlooked part of this fandom, and give some love to wlw creators who are often unappreciated for their work. as well as promoting wlw ships that aren’t always given a lot of love!

EVENT DETAILS & RULES:

drawings, fanfics, animations, edits, posts of headcanons, pinterest boards, socmed AUs, etc. are all allowed!

you can make as many posts as you want!!

you don't have to post every day!

tag #tdWLWweek24 on any social media posts

this is a tumblr based event, so post your works on tumblr, but feel free to participate/spread the word on twitter, tiktok or whichever social media you prefer to promote your work as well.

the prompts are guidelines more than rules, but do try to follow them (especially for art & fanfic)

you can choose one of the prompts given on each day, or if you’re feeling creative, try to combine them both!

it doesn’t need to be ship content! you can write an analysis of your favourite girl character through a queer lens, you can draw her wearing the colours of the bisexual flag, you can write a oneshot of two lesbians being best friends, etc.

for ship content, please make WLW/sapphic ships the MAIN FOCUS, not sidelined or briefly mentioned alongside straight or mlm pairings. fics/art that centre non-sapphic pairings will not be reposted.

celebrating other queer identities in this event is of course fine (trans, non binary, aspec, etc) but the centre of the event is wlw/sapphic identities so be sure to make that the highlight.

you do not have to be wlw yourself to participate, but of course always listen and make room for wlw creators & do your best to represent wlw stories with guidance from your wlw mutuals & friends <3

if you follow all these rules, you will be reposted/reblogged by us!

the rules listed are not to limit people in their creativity but just to ensure this remains a wlw/sapphic centred event, in order to highlight & celebrate wlw specifically. 

PROMPTS & DATES:

DAY 1: thursday, 24th october - campfire / historical au

DAY 2: friday, 25th october - sunlight / butch character

DAY 3: saturday, 26th october - put a spin on a myth, ‘canon’ literary story, or fairytale that includes your pairing of choice (the tale be from any culture or country of origin!)

DAY 4: sunday, 27th october - rollercoaster / superhero au

DAY 5: monday, 28th october - robbery / proposal

DAY 6: tuesday, 29th october - double date / horror au

DAY 7: wednesday, 30th october - free prompt / rarepair

BONUS: thursday, 31st October - write something for HALLOWEEN!

EXTRA INFORMATION:

this is a blog I started as a response to a lack of appreciation + overall content being made for wlw/sapphic fans of the show! many wlw creators have been making content for ages and not getting a lot of appreciation, and (like many other fandoms) it seems that our pairings and stories aren't given as much of a spotlight or appreciation as heterosexual or gay ones.

I also thought it would be fun! There's no pressure to make lengthy 20 chapter fics or portfolio-ready fanart for this event (though you are perfectly at liberty to do so), you can also make pinterest boards, share headcanons, create socmed AUs, or whatever creative outlet you choose, to celebrate the wlw characters and pairings YOU love.

once this event week is over this blog will remain active, reblogging any posts that are late or just sharing more wlw headcanons, content and rarepairs.

[the-dixon-effect]

For a brief moment, the colourful pages of the comic book had captivated you and caused you to lose focus on your actual objective. The mall was cleared of rotters, and it wasn’t exactly like you had somewhere to be. Truth be told, you didn’t know a thing about superheroes, though, during an apocalypse, it didn’t surprise you that the comic book store was the only place that hadn’t been completely ransacked. Gotta start somewhere, you figured. The vivid characters dancing across the thin pages seemed to know exactly where they were, what their purpose was. Not that you particularly understood the absurd plot of the first book that you picked up, but, it was clear to you. This was a time capsule, an artefact of a world left behind where imagination and creativity were the most admirable of traits. Where in a world that could numb you to your core, little girls and boys still dreamed of becoming Superman or Black Widow when they grew up. You snapped out of your daydreams and decided that perhaps it was unhealthy to fixate on the old world too much. Maybe Carl would enjoy some of these, you thought.

“Hey,” a voice came from the entrance of the store, causing you to abruptly turn around and hide the book behind your back. “Still a couple scraps over in tha’ food court. Are ya’ reading?” Daryl drawled, crossbow slung over his shoulder as he moved to enter the store, looking around in a state of somewhat confusion.

“Uhh, yeah,” you began, a little embarrassed to be caught engaging in something so futile, especially by the man who seemed so unappreciative of useless leisure.

“What, ya’ like comic books or somethin’?” he said, leaning over you attempting to get a look at whatever you were reading.

“No, not really, I just never really got the chance to be a kid, y’know.” It seemed strange to be opening up about that subject to Daryl, and though you were friends, he didn’t know much about your past.

“Nah. Me neither.  Merle used ta’ like these comics but I was never into ‘em.”

“Oh, really? What did you wanna be when you were older?” you said, placing the book back on the shelf and turning to meet his eyes.

“When I was little, I always said me and Merle were gon’ be King of the Forest. I mean, that was ‘fore he left,” he laughed a little and you smiled deeply at the brief sound of joy in his voice, before you saddened at the mention of his flaky brother.

“Well, I think you’ve definitely earned that title now. Daryl Dixon, King of the Forest,” you joked. Maybe you were wrong about him.

prompt: “I never really got to be a kid,”

[michaelnordeman]

Amazing photography! I especially love all the nuthatches, they are very unappreciated birds. I hope you enjoy knowing that your lovely cat has a Canadian cousin named Percival

Thank you so much! Nuthatches are wonderful. I often affectionately think of the nuthatches in my garden as the clowns of Käxsundet (that's where I live). They are loud and noisy; they run up and down the trees and they are anything but shy when it comes to finding food. They have those typical nuthatch poses, a little bit like those superhero poses red squirrels sometimes pull off. Oh, and have you ever seen a male nuthatch dance for a potential partner? It's extremely awkward but also very charming. I have some pictures of it somewhere here on my Tumblr.

Percival is very handsome and Keiko sends love to her Canadian cousin!

[ordinaryschmuck]

I have plans for a web comic. Your standard, superhero comic, written and illustrated by me and likely ONLY by me. A comic that has this premise:

"When some of the world's mightiest heroes are discovered to be dead, with more villains growing and super killers out in the world, it's up for humanity's last hope to band together as a single team for justice. Unfortunately, humanity's last hope includes a narcissist, a coward, an idiot keeps losing fights, a homeless person who wants a normal life, a super genius that's thirteen-year-old, a shape-shifting pacifist, and a recovering drunk leading them all. Will they be able to save the world? Well...They'll certainly try."

It'll have lots of stuff that makes superheroes fun. Action, comedy, heroes being human, struggling to do good for both the world and for the people in their lives, tragic backstories that show why the heroes make sure no one has as bad of a day as they did, SELECTIVE intense violence, heroes advocating for redemption over final acts of violence, and some gay characters...Alright, that last one's more or less implied in most superhero content, but why not include here, right?

I love this idea, these characters, and all the plans I have for them. The problem? On the internet, it's a shot in the dark if whether or not what you make is popular. And I don't know if my heart can take it if the first few pages of my comic go up, and only ten people see it with two of them liking it. I can't take it anymore. I've tried three times to make a webcomic, really trying to make something good and pouring everything I have into each one, only for my work to go unnoticed and unappreciated.

"Maybe they're not good."

Yeah. Maybe. Maybe my writing's not good enough to stand out. Maybe my art-style isn't appealing enough to some people. Maybe my jokes aren't funny enough. Maybe my ideas aren't interesting enough. Maybe my story's aren't profound enough. Maybe...I'M not good enough.

...But at least maybe it'll be worth another shot. Who knows, this will finally be the one to worth trying and get a lot of attention. At least, worth trying for a year and see how big the numbers are. But here's the thing: I want to make sure first. I want to know, going in, that I'll have enough people supporting me.

So, here's what I want: 1,000 notes. I don't want money, I don't want donations, I want 1,000 notes on THIS POST to tell me that my creative mind is worth creating again. If I get 1,000 notes, at any point throughout...let's say the rest of the year, then I'll do it.

I'll make another webcomic. And hopefully don't waste my life doing it.

[racefortheironthrone]

Not really directly related to the X-Men, but did you ever read the original series for the Power Pack? What did you think?

I'm a big Power Pack fan, having started with their intersections with the Claremont run - as I've talked about in the past, Claremont, Simonson, et al. were masters of the crossover, so it was natural that they would want to give a push to Weezy's characters in the X-books - that are rightfully considered classics because of the way they deftly managed pretty dark themes through the perspective of children.

As for their own adventures, the Power Pack are an unappreciated gem in Marvel's storied eighties, because of the way they break from the Marvel formula while operating seamlessly within the larger universe.

See, from the beginning of the Silver Age, Marvel differentiated itself from the Distinguished Competition by focusing like a laser on the teenage market rather than children. That's why Johnny Storm was a hotheaded teenage hearthrob, that's why Peter Parker started out as a normal, socially-awkward teen (just like you!), that's why the 05 X-Men were the "strangest teens of all!"

What Louise Simonson and June Brigman did with the Power Pack was to reinvent the child-centric focus of Golden Age D.C (think Robin and Superboy) and Charlton Comics (think the original Captain Marvel). Unlike those earlier child sidekicks and superkids, Alex, Julie, Jack, and Katie Power were not one-dimensional plucky moppets or precocious tiny adults.

Showing an impressive insight into child psychology, Weezy made them emotionally complex but also unmistakably still-in-development children, who were innocent and curious and boisterous but who also had tempers and got into fights with their siblings, or got scared and cried sometimes, who struggled with the desire for maturity and autonomy and the need for comfort and support from their parents. At the same time, June Brigman managed to do something that most professional comics artists notoriously struggle with: draw kids who looked like real kids, who were allowed to look goofy or awkward or gangly or rolypoly, rather than the idealized forms set down by the Nine Old Men.

And somehow, this alchemy made this book unusually emotionally resonant - although I may be something of an easy mark, because the Power Pack kids happened to be the children of Columbia University professors growing up in NYC's Upper West Side in the early 80s, just like me irl. While wrapped in a candy coating of kid superheroes with cool physics-based powers (Alex can control gravity by touching people or objects, Julie can turn into both waves and particles of light and fly at lightspeed, Jack can alter his body's density to become a miniature juggernaut or a living cloud, and five-year old Katie can turn matter into energy, absorb it, and fire it at the bad guys - the living embodiment of E=MC^2) fighting the evil alien Snarks with the help of a sentient spaceship, the Powers kids had to wrestle with having to hide their superheroics from their parents and the anxiety and guilt that resulted from that, and in their adventures they dealt with heavy topics like child abuse, gun violence, school bullying, mental illness and kidnapping and homelessness, and on and on.

Indeed, in the pages of X-Men, the Power Pack would go into the sewers under Manhattan to fight Sabertooth and the Marauders during the genocidal Morlock Massace, witness Wolverine wrestling with his humanity and his berserker rage in the Canadian wilderness, and fight to save Midtown New York from demonic incursions during Inferno. That's heavy stuff for a bunch of kids ranging from 5 to 12 years old, but somehow the Power Pack managed to make it through the most harrowing of adventures without losing their heroic spirit.

[ominous-feychild-writes]

Check out Parts 1 and 2 first!

Death stands before me.

And before you ask, no, I do not mean metaphorically.

A being dressed head-to-toe in black and red robes towers over me, every bit as intimidating as you’d think when imagining Death before you.

A little cliche, but maybe that’s for a reason.

“Alina Jones,” Death begins—

I don’t let it finish.

“Please!” I beg, trying to step forward. I can’t move. I’m frozen in place, eyes burning without tears, as I try to bargain with Death. “I can’t be dead, I can’t die! He needs me—NOAH NEEDS ME!”

I can’t see it, but I know Death is grinning underneath its black hood.

“Why,” it begins—

I try to scream more pleas, but nothing comes out.

“Silence,” Death commands. After a moment, it continues slowly: “Why, Alina, do you think I would take a single soul when, through sparing it, I could claim countless more instead?”

What… do you mean? I want to ask.

Before I can, a flash of light sweeps over me like a barreling train.

I’m amidst rubble, bleeding but not injured, as fighting continues above me. Noah lays a few feet away, the glider much further.

I don’t feel his life force.

Time drags as I tear myself from the rubble, crawl to him, and reach for his pulse.

It’s not there.

Death may have spared me, but it didn’t spare Noah.

I hadn’t understood what Death meant by its words of sparing me to ‘claim more instead.’

Now I do.

My power isn’t just healing—it’s aging.

And I am not as kind as Noah.

Without him, there’s nothing stopping me from getting revenge on all those who’ve hurt us—starting with the thing that killed him.

Part 1 | Part 2

Divider from @cafekitsune

[ominous-faechild]

Okay I just want to say I came across a little bit of your superhero story and must say that I absolutely love it. Realistic superheroes dealing with the issues of being superheroes is so much fun and I felt like I was the only person who ever played with it (especially because I’m not much of an action person, so if it was just mixed into there, I wouldn’t have seen it). So, anyways, just wanted to tell you that I love your writing!

Thank you so much!!! I love putting realism (genuine realism, not grimdark) and themes of discrimination and/or poverty in my writing, so it was a given for me to write those into that short! I did it inspired by two different writing prompts which I'll share after I've posted all of the short story, haha. I've seen a good few stories that deal with "what kind of struggles would a superhero go through?", though most of them play it for grimdark or unnecessary angst. Y'know, stuff like Invincible, a lot of modern-day DC, and even Incredibles with the anti-superhero rhetoric.

There'll be two more parts for my superhero short, though! The first of two will have some action mixed in, but the narrator isn't part of it if it makes that better for you! Last is, ah... spoilers. 😉🤭

They'll be out in the next couple days, and I hope you like them too! 🥰

(confession: I might have given an audible "eeeee!" when I read your message. 🥰😊)

[abbatoirablaze]

Welcome To The Dollhouse, Alone In A Crowded Bed

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: slight angst

“And in recent news yet another woman has come forward-“

“Turn that damn thing off, will you sweetpea?” Sweetpea frowned at her benefactor but said nothing as she turned off the large screen television and turned her attention back to him.  Johnny smiled, eyes still closed as he stretched out, pushing some of the other girls a little further away from his naked form.  His eyes opened and he opened his arms, gesturing her towards him, “come back to bed, sweetpea…let’s have ourselves a very good morning.”

A few of the girls murmured a few unappreciative remarks, but they stopped when Johnny opened his eyes once more and shot them glares.

“Why don’t you girls make yourselves useful and get us something to eat!” he suggested, “you both proved that you were tired out after a round or two.”

Trisha removed herself from the bed, agreeing, and Johnny slapped her ass on the way out.

“Atta girl.  Jenna,  why don’t you see if Barnes and Rogers are freed up.  I wanna talk to them about getting a girl for the weekend.”

She made another remark to which Johnny frowned, “what was that?”

“Nothing, Johnny,” she lied, batting her lashes at him, “I’ll go see if they’re free for you.”

“If they aren’t, send Bunny down…I know the super soldiers gave her the authority to help out.”

“Yes sir…”

“Good girl!” he smirked, slapping her ass as she walked out as well.  Johnny sat up in the bed looking at Sweetpea, “You gonna make me get out of this nice warm bed and get you?”

“You’re just as warm as any bed, Johnny!”

He smiled, “Exactly.  So come back to bed, sweetpea…let me warm you up!”

“IS that a request, or a demand?” she teased, stalking back towards the bed. 

Johnny smiled, watching the younger woman crawling back towards him in his shirt, “you know…you’re lucky I let you get away with that mouth.”

“It’s because I’m your favorite.” She grinned, “and I know just how much you like it when that mouth is wrapped around your cock!”

“You are…” he admitted thoughtfully, “and I do love it.  It’s just too bad you’re hooked on someone else and not me.  You know I’d spring you from this place and buy you out in a heartbeat if you would let me.”

She frowned, “Johnny…don’t start up on that.”

“I know you watch the news every day since that cop outside the city was shot,” he frowned, “I know what you’re doing.  I know you watch to make sure that he doesn’t show up on the news…”

“Lee doesn’t mean-“

“Lee,” he chuckled, cutting her off, “see, most girls wouldn’t call him by his first name, let alone try defending him.”

“He’s not as bad as they think.”

“Lot of the girls talk,” he chuckled, snapping his fingers until a spark and flame appeared between them, “lot of them say he likes to get a little fiery with his play…”

“They say the same about you.”

He shrugged, the flame going out on its own, “there’s a difference between me and Bodecker.  I’m a young, in-shape superhero…he’s an aging, overweight sheriff.   Women here put up with a little more if you’ve got more pull.”

“I think Lee’s got plenty of pull, Johnny…”

“That why you still let me pick you up?” he asked, “why you stopped letting him take you upstairs to your room?”

She frowned, “now you’re just being mean, Johnny.”

“Just honest, Sweetpea…”

“I don’t think I like your honesty…”

“Never stopped us before,” he replied with a shrug, “you give it just as well as you take it.  And you only take it when the good sheriff has pissed you off.  So what did he do this time?”

“Just the usual…”

“Oh, that all?” he chuckled, “Lee’s a little worried that he’ll buy out your contract and you’ll change your mind and leave him, so he refused to buy you out when you asked again?”

“Johnny…”

“That why you wanna be alone in a crowded bed, sweetpea?” he asked, “because I know we both felt the same thing last night when all of us were just a tangle of limbs, in a mess of sweat, and orgasms…”

“And what’s that?”

“We were both wondering what the hell we’re doing in a place like this.” He sighed, “especially when we both know that we’re worth so much more than just meaningless orgasms.”

“I had no other option, Johnny.”

“You were working at Stark Towers as an assistant to Barnes and Rogers,” he chuckled as he shook his head, “you always had an option…you just thought you could go off and play live-in whore to get away from your problems because no one bothered to notice you beforehand.”

“And you figured if you stuck your dick in enough of us, you’d forget how alone you are.”

“Sweetpea, I don’t ever forget how alone I am.  Ever…” Johnny chuckled, “I know it…every date I go out on, every woman I fuck, every time I see anyone I know living some bullshit, happy, fulfilled life I remember that no one will ever truly love someone like me…”

“And why couldn’t they?” she asked, “Sue and Reed had each other.  Even Ben has a wife.”

“Because my other half doesn’t exist.  Fire always finds a way to burn it down,” he reminded her, “and in the end, it’s just me…alone in a crowded bed.”

“You’ve got me, Johnny…we can be alone in a crowded bed together.”

“I’m taking you for the weekend,” he said after a moment, “going to pull you from the dollhouse.  We don’t need these others in our way…”

“And why would you do something like that, Johnny?”

“Because I’m going to drop you off on the good sheriff’s front porch…and you’re going to tell him how you feel,” he said firmly, “you two have been avoiding each other for long enough.  And if you don’t tell him, he’s just gonna keep his distance, and you’re going to be a brat and let him do it…and there’s no reason for two people that belong together to go on thinking they need to be alone in a crowded bed.”

“How do you know how he feels, Johnny?” she growled, feeling angry at being told that she was going to have to confront Lee about what was going on, “he left me in that room.  He told me that he was not going to buy me out.”

“And we both know that you are one of the few girls that don’t have to be bought out,” he reminded her, “you’re just testing him, and it’s not funny!”

“I’m not trying to be funny, Johnny…” she spat, pushing herself out of the bed, “how hard is it for you to get it through your head that maybe I gave up my life because there wasn’t anything to it.  That maybe Steve and Bucky offered me the freedom in being one of their girls.  Here I’m wanted.  Here I-“

“Am a hole to fuck!” he agreed, cutting her off, “don’t get me wrong, sweetpea.  You’ve become one of my best friends in here…one of the only chicks that I can have a conversation and a mind-blowing orgasm with, but I know you and Lee have feelings for each other.  And I’ll be damned if I let you throw that away because you two are both too stubborn to see the other person’s side.”

[n64spoon]

random ted kord hc's because im going insane and need to spread propaganda SOMEWHERE.

love language (giving)

ive done alot if thinking about this one and have come to the conclusion that his love languages are acts of service and gift giving. i kinda based this decision off of how he acts with babs and booster in countdown to infinite crisis. dude is about to go bankrupt AGAIN but he's still offering to pay for tickets and lets booster borrow his card, even if it negatively affects him. hes a superhero for one but also his entire reasoning behind becoming the second blue beetle was because he feels like he OWES it to dan, he wants to make up for his blind faith to his uncle which lead to dans death. i think he loves doing favours for people because it makes him feel good about himself, and he loves the feeling of being appreciated.

love language (receiving)

words of affirmation and physical touch. he has boundaries when it comes to the physical touch of course, but booster is the main exception, with ted being quite touchy himself at times. i like to base this off of the first appearance of dan's death in blue beetle 1967 where as dan says his last words hes caressing teds face UGHH that shit fucks me up man -- but i can definitely imagine him melting in someones hands if they held his face or something (booster, of course).

then theres the words of affirmation. ted gets compliments alot, obviously, usually due to his status in hub city and his intelligence. but there are times where he feels unappreciated or isnt taken seriously, usually by higher ranked heroes (cough cough BATMAN cough) . in countdown to infinite crisis (yes im referencing this comic AGAIN im SORRY) he is pushed aside constantly by multiple people. the few people who did listen to him, namely superman and wonderwoman, its stated in booster gold 2007 he "felt bad for wasting their time.". ted needs reassurance, he needs to be reassured that he isnt a bother. though at times a wise-cracking jerk, he still does care about how others view him. and spending like most or his childhood being put down by his father and then years later by heroes he works with he deserves someone telling him he's doing good once in awhile 😭.

[imsparky2002]

Ghoul Squad - Adrien

Adrien - Human

Age - 14

Species - Human

Appearance -  Shaggy untamed blond hair, rosy cheeks, freckles, emerald green eyes, fair skin, peach fuzz

Attire - Orange, black and white Jack Skellington hoodie, blue jeans, Converse trainers, simple grey t-shirt, green Oogie Boogie backpack, orange beanie

Personality - Kind, innocent, has a usually hidden playful side, optimistic, understanding, passionate, spoopy (has a love for Halloween that he had to hide from his Dad)

Likes - His partners, video games, anime, Halloween, all things spooky, Nathalie, Nino, his other friends, charity, pumpkins, cats, monsters, scaring people (as Cat Astrophe), his kwami Cheshire, plain pancakes, acting

Dislikes - Modeling, Chloe and Lila, liars, unappreciative people, cauliflower, his father, people judging him at first glance, Hawk Moth, having to stay in his father’s home, bullying, Christmas

Adrien is the son of Gabriel Agreste. What his father doesn’t his realize is that his child is an avid lover of all things spooky and mysterious.

After heading to a pumpkin patch that he and his mother visited when she was alive, he finds a delightfully creepy-looking pumpkin brooch and put it on. This turned out to be the Jack O’Lantern Miraculous. He met Cheshire, his catlike Kwami, and became the spooky superhero known as Cat Astrophe.

As Cat Astrophe, Adrien is able to show his true spooky self, and then some. He has a face like a Jack O’Lantern, claws, cat ears and is able to use pumpkin bombs. He is known for his eerie cackling, and for being a mischevious trickster who offers candy after giving you a fright. He,  Zhīzhū, and the Ghoul Squad know each other’s identities.

He loves Marinette and Kagami with all of his heart, and they look at him as their golden angel of death. They and his other friends helped him realize he could stand up to his father.

After the ghouls discovered how horrible his home life was, they asked if he could join them in a ritual, to which he agreed. After the ritual was finished, Adrien became part of the Ghoul Squad, and their new brother.

Quotes

Who says Halloween has to be once a year?

It'd be a grave mistake if you kept lying about my friends, Lila.

It’s my turn to pick for movie night! We’re watching Nightmare Before Christmas! Don’t hiss at me, Juleka! I don’t complain when we watch every Dracula comedy ever made. (Dracula was a series of comedy movies in this universe)

You aren't the boss of me anymore, father. I've got a family who actually loves and cares for me.

(To Marinette and KagamiMy heart jumps straight out my chest when I’m with you two, in the most frighteningly amazing way possible!

It’s spooking hour for you, Akuma! Let’s get wild!

Adrien leaps onto the scene as Cat Astrophe, and the spook always has sweet treats for his Ghoulish family! He’s certainly a spoopy boi. Thanks so much to Weeby for doing the quotes with me. This is the last character post, but more content is coming soon! As usual, make sure to reblog, reply, post and ask. @artzychic27 @msweebyness 

Adrien: Make sure to stick around. It’ll be a treat to trick you again. (He cackles and disappears into the shadows.)