Here is my SVSSS idea. I love MoShang and especially the implications of God!SQH. I thought about how things would go for them if they ever had a kid and then this hit me. Honestly, this will probably end up as a drabble or a very short story. No clue about the kid all of this is about. I just love what MBJ says here. I immediately made a note when it hit me.
SQH and MBJ are having a kid and SQH's God ID pokes out
SQH sitting at a desk, hands folded in front of his face staring at a blank scroll and Quill. Debating whether or not to write their son's story.
MBJ comes in, they talk about SQH's worries and how he could make sure their son would have a perfect life, always safe, a bit of adventure here and there. SQH just doesn't know what to write.
MBJ stops SQH, takes his hands and says
Let his fate remain unwritten. Let his feet trod his legacy through a map of his own making. He is your son. Don't take his Creation away. Fall in love with another's Story.
HIII its me again... requesting more OPM... uhhh this one's event more niche so i understand if you end up not wanting to do him but can i request Lightning Genji x a reader who absolutely ADORES picking him up and sometimes swinging him around? he's like... 5'5 if I remember right, so reader being wayyyy taller than him would be cute/funny, heehee.... uhhh gn or male reader is ok with me if you do that !!!! fluff.. yeah... sorry im so awkward whwhahahah ily ur so awesome/p
Pick Me Up, and I'll Shock You
Sorry for the delay ☹️💔 I was sick here is you.. 1050 words because I m still sick.
Synopsis: You love messing with Genji especially since you’re way taller than him. Lifting him up? Swinging him around? Watching him get all flustered? It never gets old. He always pretends to hate it, sparking with static and grumbling threats, but deep down, you know he doesn’t mind that much.…Or so you think. Because this time, Genji’s had enough. And he’s about to make sure you never see it coming.
(Lightning Genji x Taller!Male!Reader | Fluff, Playful Banter)
Genji hated this. Absolutely despised it.
"Put me down," he growled, voice crackling like the static in his lightning.
But you? Oh, you were having the time of your life.
Grinning ear to ear, you effortlessly lifted him off the ground, his legs dangling helplessly in the air. He wasn’t that small, but with your height advantage, he might as well have been a ragdoll in your grasp.
"I swear to everything in this world," Genji seethed, electricity sparking faintly around him, "if you swing me around like some-"
You spun him. Just a little.
"YOU MENACE!"
Your laughter echoed through the training grounds as Genji let out a half-choked yelp, hands gripping your shoulders like his life depended on it. The static in the air prickled against your skin, but you were far too entertained to care.
"You should see your face right now," you teased, setting him back on his feet well, almost. You didn’t quite let go, still holding him slightly off the ground, just to keep the power dynamic in your favor.
Genji glared up at you, face burning under his visor. "You enjoy this, don’t you?"
"Maybe." You shrugged. "It’s just fun seeing you all flustered."
"Flustered?" He scoffed, stepping back the moment you finally released him. "As if I—"
You reached out and ruffled his hair.
His entire body jolted whether from shock or embarrassment, you weren’t sure. Probably both.
"You are testing my patience," he muttered, stepping away before you could lift him again.
"Oh, c’mon, Genji. You know you secretly love it."
He clicked his tongue, arms crossed, still sparking slightly. "One of these days, you’re going to regret it."
You leaned down slightly, meeting his gaze with a cocky grin. "Is that a promise?"
A pause. A dangerous smirk curled at the corner of Genji’s lips.
"Yeah," he said, lightning dancing at his fingertips. "It is."
And the next second, you were the one yelping as a bolt of static shot up your spine, leaving your hair standing comically on end.
Promt: Day 11 - Indecisione
Fandom: Festival di Sanremo RPF
Ship: metamoro
Dal testo:
"- Ma puoi ridurti così a 30 e passa anni Ermal, eh? - Si disse, scostando un ricciolo dal viso.
Si trovava davanti ad un punto di non ritorno. Doveva decidere, se prendere dei rischi o meno. Un momento era deciso a bussare a quella porta e l'attimo dopo voleva solo scappare via."
Here's my latest idea and the first one posted since it's eating my brain. This was the quickest way to write it without losing my train of thought. I have come to the conclusion that I just took KeanBlade's sandbox and just added my own toys to it. Their writing is amazing, though. Parts of the Uchiha culture will be pulled from Umei no Mei's Compass of Thy Soul. I have to Adult so I can't polish it up right now. Let me know what you think!
Female OC Uchiha born in WC Era, much to her Terror.
Maybe be one of Madara's siblings? Easier for her to influence things.
Wind Natured
Conceal don't feel, always an Internal Eternal Mess
Sharingan-spins chakra, hooks emotion, and then emotions spin around and leads to Meltdowns
Specialize in sealing, sensing, non-combatant, does Not do well with violence
Plays Matchmaker for her Clan, luring in Yamanaka therapists first, then other useful professions
OC's sensing skill is her sensitivity to it because chakra didn't exist in her last life. (Chakra= Extension of the Soul)Mixed with her Sharingan seeing micro expressions on people, she is Uncannily Good at seeing Matches
KeanBlade inspired******* (OC read it)
Promotes therapists in clan and provides defenses for them from Zetsu
Veil over Sharingan memories, redirect initial memories* collab with Therapist
Knows Naruto, minor Shippuden, almost no Boruto, WC Era special interest (can pass off as precog, more info closer to their point in timeline)
Plan: Destroy Zetsu, plan for Otsutsuki Invasion
Village end goal Defends their World (Silence of the Pact)*
Mythology*, Kami Celestial, Astral Otsutsuki, God Tree, Indra is Amaterasu's son, Asura is Izanami's son.
Kami are Important here
OC ends up Religious because they died and they Know there are gods/godlike beings here and they are not risking it. Plus they need all the help they can get.
Running water where multi rivers meet with shrine on top*, gets help from priest there
Priest=Bear build, Earth Natured F or M?
Priest, Tobi, OC team up!
Madara helps when OC doesn't freak out about Zetsu affecting him
MadaTobi*, PriestOC
Tobi/Therapist is OC's Person?
OC opens her Sharingan with No Trauma* with Therapist
Sealing Language using Internal Logic via Compass of Thy Soul, after she pesters Mada or other into asking any Seal Master clarifying question(s)
Said Seal Master was drunk(?) when asked otherwise they would have given So Many Warnings and whoever asked wouldn't pass it on
Daimyo sets up the Clans to fight*
OC is Always Stressed. She looks like nothing phases her but she is So Stressed she's in Zen mode.
Here's my Frozen idea. It's my thoughts for a Fix-It. I haven't read any Frozen fanfic so I don't know if this has been done before but I thought it was sweet.
Anna's singing got to Elsa and she went out at night to build snow forts and stuff or blanket ones. She made it a treasure hunt for Anna to find what she made her. Confused but happy Anna and slowly healing Elsa. Magic done of true love than fear so Anna's magic damage is healed by it.
Hearing Anna sing and ask over and over again. For her. It hurts so much. Elsa hated turning her away, refusing to even meet. But it was safer this way. She's dangerous and hurt Anna so bad she was Dying. She can't. She can't bring herself to go near her again.
The Cold that has built and stabbed at her ever since she locked it away surged again. Elsa wrapped her arms around herself and tried to breathe through the ice in her throat, frost dusting her fingers even as it sped out from her, coating the door and floor.
Elsa breathed through the ache, the distant, foggy feeling that always came when she thought about how Dangerous she was, how badly she hurt Anna. Just breathe.
Elsa began humming under her breath, trying to Feel something that wasn't just the Cold. She couldn't move from the Cold, from the fear. She could barely move her tongue and open her mouth to speak. All she could do was hum. Before she knew it, she realized that songs she was humming had turned to Anna's.
The song she sung every day. The song she never stopped singing. The song filled with the joy of the day and the hope for Elsa to come out. The song she only sang for Elsa.
Elsa broke down into tears, feeling them freeze on her cheeks, forming into icicles the longer and harder she cried. Usually, it scared her. The gleam off the ice, the weight on her face, the look of a monster made of ice with her eyes. (Looking in the mirror when she cried was a mistake. She can't forget the monster that stared back.)
But now, she couldn't stop. All she could think of was Anna's song.
"... it doesn't have to be a snowman..."
"Okay, Anna," Elsa whispered. "It doesn't have to be a snowman."
Alright, this is it! I'm going to start uploading my fanfic ideas here and I desperately want feedback. I love seeing other authors on Tumblr build off their ideas when they get Asks and now, I'm gonna do it! I want to publish my ideas but I'm stalling on the motivation to flesh it out.
I would love to see if others enjoy my thoughts and what it sparks in you.
As my username states, I jump around everywhere. ADHD be like that. I also have other Tumblr pages that I plan on uploading my fic ideas to. I'll link them later. My other pages are more organized, as in, one Tumblr is about a fandom, another for specific ships that I adore. So if you want to dive into a fixation of mine, you can enjoy what else I have on those pages.
I will do my best to tag all my fanfic ideas with fanwrites.
Characters/Notable Pairings: Dave-centric, some of the survivors (Beta-verse)
Warnings: None (Unless mentions of blood counts?)
A/N: Probably not the best time to post this since it's tumblr dead hour, and the current situation with the homestuck tags, but whatever. Based on this picture. Unedited.
--
A screech jumps through your head and colours begin dancing into the black.
Everything hurts, and you feel like you're about to black out again. Your eyes are weakly blinking, and the light is flickering in and out of your sight. Clarity increases when you hear another screech.
You've always had an affinity with fire; that's probably why your planet was the Land of Heat and Clockwork, and probably why your entire body burns with a searing pain. Your palm digs into the ground, and you struggle to even sit up. A bead of sweat rolls down your head and curls into the corner of your lip-- it has a metallic taste to it, and that's when you realize that it's actually blood. Jack really did a number on you.
Your foot slowly brings itself under you, and starts to push you up-- but you stumble back onto the ground. Knives shoot through your back and you let out a pathetic cry. That really hurt. You remember that you're not the only one here when you hear a thud a little ways away. Rolling onto your side, you squint your eyes at the others. It's pretty dark so it's hard to make out some of them, but you see Kanaya and Karkat huddled around Terezi. She doesn't look too good. To their right you see Gamzee seated on the floor, also in bad shape. Jade is tending to Rose, who's bleeding on the floor. And then--
John is blown into the air, blood splashing onto the floor; Jack stands with his sword up, likely from a swift upward blow. He lands a couple feet away from you.
You hiss and search the surrounding area for your broken blade. It's behind you, but you quickly grab and use it to assist you standing up. Due to it's broken nature, it can only help you so far, but it's enough to get you on your feet-- even if you stumble a bit. Your lungs bleed and scream, and your body begs you to rest, but you ignore the pain. Just for a little longer, you'll put your pain aside. Blood rolls down the cuts on your arms, and drips off your hands; you weakly shuffle in front of John, dragging the cut up leg behind you. Shakily, you take in a heated breath, and make a defensive stance. Jack has been watching you, sickly amused by your attempts at protecting John.
But you're not going to let him die. You hear him shuffle at your back. He tells you in a croak that it's okay, because he'll just come back to life like before; he's stupid that way, always has been, but you know better. As Jack advances, he begs for you to stop trying to protect him, but you grit your teeth and force your burning hands to tighten around your blade.
You lost him once, back when you all first started this.
Characters/Notable Pairings: Dave Strider (Post-Scratch)
Warnings: Sadstuck(?)
A/N: Something to start this blog off! A small drabble I wrote for a friend a while ago; it's nothing particularly big. Slightly edited from the original version. I probably missed things.
--
Sometimes, when you’re having a really good day, you decide to go to your private room. Your younger brother, or rather, your ectobiological son likes to call it a museum of your weird obsessions, but that’s just stupid. It’s just a room with some of your most prized possessions, no big deal.
It’s situated in your room, and was probably supposed to have been a large walk-in closet. A dim light hangs from the ceiling, and you shut the door behind you; there isn't any need to close the door, since your younger brother isn’t even home, but it would have felt too exposing to leave it open. There’s a small array of glass cases here, two small sized ones and one larger one. The two smaller glass cases stand facing each other on the sides of the room, while the larger sits straight ahead of you. On days like these, you don’t rush it; on a good day like this, where everything seems to be going right for you, you always move slowly while you're here.
You step forward and move with an instinct to glance at the case on the left. You tense at the sight of the aquatic, tangled plush buddies. Those were Jade’s weird looking toys— Squickles, or something akin to that; you don’t really care what they were called, because what’s important is that they were Jade’s. God you miss her. You almost look away, but you force yourself to remember; you reminisce about her, and her weird sleeping schedule, and her sweetness. It hurts, and you let it hurt.
You turn to look at the second case, and you try to swallow the lump in your throat. It’s just some yarn and knitting needles— except you know they’re more than just simple inanimate objects. They all are. Sometimes you wish Rose would talk to you like before; you want to hear her nag, and quip, and psychoanalyze you. From what your little bro tells you, it sounds like his friend is probably Rose’s mom as a kid; meaning Rose is the kid’s mom, if what you believe about everyone's situations is correct. You spoke to her before, under the pretense that you were making sure your little bro’s friend was real and what not. You slip in some questions about before the scratch, but she has no idea what 'the scratch' is. Sometimes you talk to her; on days like this, you do. You let out a shaky breath, and move to the last case.
There’s no surprise when your breathing catches, and a heat pricks at your eyes. You move the glass case off the display, and stare at the tattered bunny sitting there. It’s old, and normally you wouldn’t give a damn about some stupid bunny, but this was for him— for John. You proceed with your routine, and take off your shades, setting them on their display next to the rabbit. It’s gross, and you kind of wish you didn’t do it, but you take the rabbit into your arms and you sit on the floor. It doesn’t help push away the pain, but you feel a bit more at ease when you hold the plush toy. You talk to the John that isn’t there with you, arms tight around the soft toy, and -like always- you cry. You cry as you tell him about your day, about your little brother, about how much you miss him, about how much you wish everyone was here, and about how much you wish you could all go back to your old lives.
Sometimes, when you’re having a really good day, you remember that it’s not really a good day at all, because it used to be so much better.
