#fic premise

[chronicdelusionistsart]

Here's MY DCxDP fic premise. Send Jazz to Gotham. No Danny, no Sam and Tucker, nobody except Jaaaaaaazz Fenton. Then stick Jazz Fenton (Jaaaaaaazz Fenton everyone that's my special awesome queen everybody fucking clap) with Jason Todd as his roommate in a distinctly non-ship situation. See how long it takes for him to self-immolate as she speaks to him exclusively in therapy speak, thinking she must know something when that's just how she talks

[coldopenadhddadjoke]

Heated Tribaldry

Baru is a savant at field hockey. A once-in-a-lifetime talent midfielder. On Taranoke, everyone fights over who will get Baru Cormorant on their team. No matter what the rest of the team is like, Baru's canny coordination between offense and defense always brings out the best in her teammates.

But field hockey isn't a respected sport in the Empire of Masks. They don't even have proper leagues. And her friend Aminanta points out that field hockey players have a reputation for being notorious tribadists. (She got a sour look on her face when Baru pointed out the navy had that same reputation.) It does trouble her, though. She's a student-athlete who dreams of going to Falcrest to look at different stars through the most advanced telescopes in the world. What if the sport's reputation holds her back, no matter how well she performs on the Imperial Service exam?

Some people say that she should stick with field hockey. Stick with what she knows, and stay on Taranoke. But Falcresti talent scout Cairdine Farrier sees potential in her as the missing piece in his federated ice hockey team, which will represent Aurdwynn in a friendly exhibition match against an all-Falcrest team.

So Farrier whisks her off to Aurdwynn--the best place in the world to learn how to take her field hockey skills to the ice. (Well--the best place safely under Imperial control, anyway.)

Offensive Striker Tain Hu isn't impressed by this girl who's never even played on ice before. At first Baru thinks she hates her. Slowly, she comes to realize that politics are at play. That Duchess is maneuvering to be Team Captain, and is afraid that the team newbie will reflect poorly on her, if she can't get her skills on the ice up to par.

But it runs deeper than that. The Duchess chafes at representing the empire in any way. She doesn't want to be team captain in this foolish exercise of soft power. She wants to be a team player in the confederation of duchies--ruling independently, with no Governor, no Imperial Agents.

This revelation happens after Farrier sends Baru off to Tain Hu's lands in Duchy Vultag. Of course her duty is to report treason. But she's isolated from any other loyal imperial citizens. And Tain Hu is teaching her ice hockey, to present a convincing front for Cairdine Farrier until it's too late. Tain Hu says she's talented. She says Baru shows promise. And sometimes, when Tain Hu corrects her stance or her grip, her hands linger...

The more they work together, the more Baru learns of the reclusive duchess. Part of Tain Hu's rejection of the Empire is the rejection of Incrastic thought. She plays for the other team off the ice, too.

The only remaining question is ... which team will Baru play for?

[Smash cut to montage of sweaty ice hockey practice and indoor calisthenics, with increasingly longing looks, which eventually escalates to a montage of Tain Hu introducing Baru to tribadism, and Baru displaying savant-like aptitude in this arena, as well.]

[ebenelephant]

fic premise: frank castle, wade wilson, and logan howlett at a support group for single parents. none of them know about each other's secret identities. frank has an extra layer of shit to deal with in terms of his feelings about parenting an (aged down) amy, but he's trying his best and knows he wasn't a great dad last time. wade has his crippling self worth issues but honestly a better support system than any of them (ntw and yukio babysit little ellie sometimes). logan's always a little sketchy about how exactly he came to have custody of an eight year old girl, and he has clear anger issues, but the fact that they've met his grown daughter (rogue) puts them all at ease a bit.

[erismakeschaos]

Sand Bandits ; Draft 0.1, Scene 1

The Lord could be considered kind to someone who hasn't known the word for years. Even while considering their words weren't conventional—or ever really "good," and their smiles, if ever caught by hybrid's eye, reminded him of something with too many teeth, too wide of a lip, and foam dripping between the cracks.

But, they didn't speak, and their smiles could only be perceived in his mind when his gaze pointed in The Lord's general direction. All this to say, there are only upsides to consider.

One was, The Lord didn't have hands to touch him.

A favorite, the Cage is safe. Locked for eternity, and therefore safe.

No one knows where the cage is.

Grian was always referred to by a real name, even if it wasn't aloud or his given one.

He was allowed to speak.

He was allowed to do whatever he wanted, how he wanted, forever.

If anyone besides the voice in his head would ask him about why The Lord kept him alive, he'd say something offhandedly naive because nothing sensible has ever come to mind.

Naive or hopeless, such as The Lord is simply lonely. Although that one is frequently shot down and kicked moments after it takes off, considering Grian is fairly certain The Lord is more complex than that. Dangerous.

Immure might be an infinitely better word than lonely. Because no, it couldn't be lonely, not with all the masked Pigeons in the house to keep it company, no matter if they never spoke. Not to disregard the roaming Thing outside that keeps everyone on edge, wilting flowers Grian is always so careful to keep. Then there's Grian himself, the only life in this too-artificial place -- there's no reason to be bored of the company!

Speaking of the Thing he has no reason to look out for it now, his hands buried deep in the soil of one of the poppy beds that line the fork off the path when entering the secluded garden. His sanctuary, physical diary, the only thing to keep him sane in the borders of the Map.

Grian may think all these things to pass the time, himself being all he truly knows he has. There are more questions than answers in this place, so many more that it might drive him mad thinking of all the ways he could kill himself with what he has, then respawn back in his unmade bed like there was nothing wrong at all.

So no, he won't cave today, thank you very much.

Daawwwgg I finally locked in. it happened. What do you mean its only 400 words-

[wisteria-lodge]

I keep reading about jkr's relationship with femininity and I have an idea. Femme harry. And/or Transfem harry. Skirt

That would be a cute post-war fic. I'd have it so that once that piece of Voldemort's (male) soul is out, and there's a lot less stuff to deal with, Harry... isn't feeling quite so male anymore.

Harry, being Harry, is freaking out, thinks something magical is going on. Or maybe Harry is raising non-binary Teddy, and trying to get all educated about gender identities because of that, when something clicks.

Eventually someone... I'm thinking Luna, or possibly Healer!Draco, explains what's going on. And further explains that they're wizards, it's not a big deal, and here's some Gender Reassignment potion. How big do you want your boobs to be?

(Transfem Harry still 100% goes by Harry.)

... this would honestly make a really good Harry/Ron fic.

[thedistantstarsawaiting]

Gender Fuckery Soap fic. I have a title. “Am I Pretty Enough To Lie To?”

The entire premise is just Soap exploring his...well, lack of gender, for a better term. Not sure if it'll be a really long one shot or a multi chapter fic. There'll end up being smut somewhere in there, so yeah. But it'll mostly be hurt/comfort and fluff. Plus a shit ton of Ghoap. :3

[the-masked-ram]

Thinking about Seb and his other best friend. That one friend that no one knows about because she is miles and miles away and is no more than a bunch of text in an email. Thinking about how he is so desperately in love with her even though he doesn't even know her voice let alone what she looks like. He has written her emails since they were both sixteen. Met on a forum he can no longer remember the name of, but he knows he will always be grateful to it because it brought him her.

He's writing to tell her about the new farmer in town, and she laughs because she's just moved to a new farm. She intends to get away from the city there, finally chase her dreams. Thinking about how she doesn't know he loves her, and neither one of them know they are just a few miles away from each other.

[penvisions]

working on a new frankie piece for a special someone’s celebration ( @janaispunk 🥰👀)

You were new to the area, the city and the meeting. The mediocre coffee and the drab, stagnant air of the rented out room the only thing linking this new chapter of your life to the old one. Anonymous meetings always seemed to be held in the same types of places, outside in large parks too crowded and loud with other people or playgrounds off in the distance or errant rooms of old church buildings where they typically held their holiday social gatherings a few times a year. The faces were always the same with washed out expressions, dull eyes, fidgeting legs, and shaking hands all clamoring for the too bright amber liquid that barely passed for coffee and too sugary sweets for snacks alongside it.

But there is something new about this scene you were all too familiar with, no matter the city you were in or the state of your recovery. A man was walking in through the doors, dressed in a simple pair of dark wash jeans and a weathered grey t-shirt. Atop his head is a worn and well-loved hat, a patch over the front of it depicting some foreign to you oil company logo. But it wasn’t the nondescript clothes or the hat that caught your attention, lord knows it wasn’t, it was the man who adorned them. He looked so different from the others in the room even as he shared in greeting handshakes and close lipped smiles with everyone milling about before he’s standing in front of you.