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AU where the clones and the droids unionize and collectively go on strike and stand threateningly around important government buildings until they get their rights 

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This is killing me omf

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The Art Of Trolling

by Odsbodkins

Marvel Cinematic Universe/Complete/Chapters: 1 /Words: 4,414

Since everyone thinks they can ask all kinds of intrusive questions about Captain America, it's Bucky's duty to troll the hell out of them.

//

A very fun fic with great banter.

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A Second Grace

by sometimeswelose

Supernatural/Complete/Chapters: 2 Words: 26,988

Cas dies and Dean starts referring to himself as a widower. This is somewhat confusing for everyone involved.

(Inspired by *that* tumblr post; linked in notes)

(Canon MCD not tagged because it's temporary)

//

I’ve read and adored plenty of Post-Empty fics, New God Jack fics, etc, but this one blows them all away. I teared up several times reading this–the way sometimeswelose writes Dean’s feelings for Cas, how the confession affects his life, how he copes and changes, is wonderfully cathartic. The love in this is so tender yet powerful. I love the lives that he and Sam create for themselves. This fic feels like a perfect ending for Winchesters and Co., not a perfect world, where everything goes back to how it was, but a new one that they are building for themselves. Well written. This is one of those fics that is going to stick in my mind, I can already tell.

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There was nothing, in Cody’s opinion and he was sure the opinion of his brothers, more adorable and yet more of a pain in the ass, than General Kenobi off his nut on Kix’s best pain killers. 

In a classic Kenobi move, only a couple of hours ago Cody’s General single handily turned the tide of the battle by taking out two of the enemy tanks alone, but not before the Seppies managed to get a few rare hits in.

The result, when the dust had settled and victory secured, was a very messy General, drugged to the gills whilst Kix patched him up.

“General please! Would you sit still?” the medic in question was struggling to keep the unusually squirmy Jedi under control.

“Mmm sorry.” Large blue eyes turned on commander Kix, struggling to focus. “Please can I go soon?” he asked, eyebrows raising in the middle pleadingly. Cody’s respect for his Vode skyrocketed, when Kix simply shook his head. Cody would’ve crumbled like a flimsy in the rain.

“No Sir I need to get you sorted” Kix didn’t stop working but sent a wordless request for back up at Cody.

“Here General, drink your tea” Cody dived in and handed the wobbly Jedi the mug that had been siting on the side. He got an absolutely blinding smile in return.

“Thank you, Cody. I do like tea” he chirped happily.

“I know Sir” Cody replied, trying not to laugh or coo over his fearsome General.

The Commander stepped back for a moment, giving the medics space to work and attempting to flatten himself into the wall and keep out of the way in the crowded med bay.

A smash and a yelp a moment later though had him jumping right back in. General Kenobi was sitting on the bed looking sadly down at the puddle of tea and the smashed remains of his mug on the floor.

“Oh no” the Jedi said softly, still staring down at the mess. His mouth was turning down unhappily at the edges and coming dangerously close to a pout. Cody held his breath.

“That was my favourite mug.”

There was a beat of pregnant silence in which Cody could’ve sworn he heard the sound of about seven hearts breaking, as every clone in the room took one look at the disappointment on their Jedi’s face before springing into action.

“Oh no Sir we’ll fix it”

“Here just leave it I’ll get a bucket”

“I’m sure we can find another one for you General”

“Do you want anything else Sir? I can get you a biscuit”

Cody could do nothing but watch as some of the finest soldiers he had ever served with transformed into clucking mother moon-hens right before his eyes. 

He shot Kix a look over the swarm of flapping vode, whilst the General looked slightly startled at the attention and used the opportunity to once more attempt to wriggle out of Kix’s clutches.

“No General would you- Ahh- Cody!”

“Kiiiix I’m fine, Cody tell him!”

Cody sighed. It was going to be a long day.

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🦀 Kudos Crab 🦀

If you are scrolling and see Kudos Crab, your fics will be blessed!

You will get good comments and kudos!

You will beat your writers block!

GO AND WRITE!

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It doesn't take long after repairing the miraculous to find out what happened to the butterfly.

Marinette doesn’t take the bracelet to Luka right away after she fixes it.

Maybe she should have—maybe Luka would have been a better candidate to tell Adrien. He’s good with words, after all, and at staying calm in the face of other's despair.

Marinette is neither of those things.

She's especially not those things with Adrien.

But she can't bear to tell Luka first—she hasn't even told Chat Noir yet.

At first, she'd planned to keep Gabriel's secret. He'd asked her to, his dying wish, and she'd still been haunted by the nightmare of Adrien sobbing over his father's ashes. She'd wanted to protect him.

But over time, she'd started to have doubts.

Gabriel hadn't been a good father.

She'd see the statue in the park and think, doesn't Adrien deserve to know the truth?

But then she'd see Adrien laughing in the sunshine, and think, doesn't he deserve to be happy?

So here she is, standing in his room, wielding the snake miraculous alongside her own.

His gaze rakes over her costume, taking it in, before landing on her wrist. She could pinpoint the exact moment of realization by the fear that flashes in his eyes.

"That's not for me, is it?" He doesn't ask this every time—only the times when she doesn't speak first.

"No," she reassures him, and winces at the way his shoulders relax, knowing that what she'd come for was far worse than asking him to wield the snake again.

"Then why…?"

"I have to tell you something," Cobrabug explains. "And I'm not sure how to do it right. So I thought I could… practice?"

Adrien looks thoughtful. "Is this the first time?"

She shakes her head. "The 27th."

His thoughtful expression grows pained. "27 times, while you're wielding two miraculous?"

She waves him off. "I'm sure I'll get it right soon."

He nods.

And—miraculously—she does get it right, this time. All the words come out in the right order and they all make sense and she doesn't start crying.

His face is pale with shock, and Cobrabug is waiting with baited breath for his response, her hand poised to reset the clock.

Adrien opens his mouth to say something, but only a choked, strangled sound comes out.

That's when she notices the butterfly.

Dark, and glowing, and heading straight for Adrien.

Her heart plummets into her stomach.

The missing miraculous.

He notices it a second after she does, eyes flicking back to her in terror.

She reaches for her yo-yo, intent on purifying the akuma, but Adrien is faster.

“Don’t tell me again,” he says, and turns the bracelet on her wrist.

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

Cobrabug stands in Adrien's room, wielding the snake miraculous alongside her own.

His gaze rakes over her costume, taking it in, before landing on her wrist. She could pinpoint the exact moment of realization by the fear that flashes in his eyes.

"That's not for me, is it?"

"No," she reassures him. "Sorry to bother you. Just checking in."

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Yet another AO3 bot situation - please spread the word!

Hi, it's me again, the person who wrote that viral post about fanfiction plagiarism! Today I'm here to warn you about abuse perpetrated by bots who have stolen AO3 usernames.

There's currently an epidemic of bots going around leaving (apparently random) horrible, hateful comments on people's fics. This isn't the first time bots have invaded AO3, but the big problem with this wave is that they're using real AO3 usernames to do it.

I learned about this when another writer contacted me after receiving the following comment on their story:

Now, while that is my username, I DEFINITELY did not leave this comment (and anyone who would leave something like that on a fic should be slapped! What an awful thing to post). This fic is in a completely unrelated fandom that I have never participated in, nor has that author participated in any of my fandoms, so the probability of it being some intentional fandom drama thing to make me look bad is also low.

The writer whose fic the comment was left on enlisted the aid of some friends and tracked down other guest comments with unrelated usernames attached, which is pretty strong evidence that they are being left by bots at random.

The TL;DR: If you receive a cruel comment from a (Guest) with an actual AO3 username attached, it's most likely from a bot. Please do not lash out at or dogpile the AO3 user who owns that name, and who in all likelihood has no idea that their name has been hijacked for evil.

If finding this kind of comment on a fic, even left by a bot, is likely to upset you, I would recommend changing your comment settings so that only users who are logged in can leave comments. To do this, edit your story settings, and under "Privacy," select the radio button that says "Only registered users can comment," as shown below.

Please spread the word to other AO3 users! And if you see mean guest comments on other fics, maybe let the author know that it's probably from a bot and not a real person who thinks their writing is bad.

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Literary Illusions

“It’s ironic,” Palpatine said, shaking his head. “He could save others from death, but not himself.”

Anakin frowned.

“And this is something the Jedi wouldn’t have told me?” he asked.

“Of course not,” Palpatine replied. “Is it a story you’ve heard?”

“Well, yes,” Anakin said. “Just now, from you. But not before then… and that surprises me, Chancellor.”

Palpatine shrugged. “I think you’ll find, Anakin, that the Jedi have not been telling you everything.”

“Maybe not, but… honestly, that sounds like exactly the kind of thing they’d tell me,” Anakin said.

Palpatine frowned.

“...what?” he asked.

“You know,” Anakin said. “Some Sith Lord works out how to bring people back to life from the dead, but his apprentice kills him and doesn’t bring him back to life because the Sith are inherently self destructive. If the two of them had worked together and been able to trust one another, they’d have been immortal.”

He shrugged. “It’s a good illustration of the inherently self destructive nature of the Dark Side, and it’s the dichotomy of how the Dark Side leads you to seek power in order to achieve goals that you then discard as irrelevant, because they’re not directly related to gaining power… hold on a second.”

Palpatine was a little distracted by trying to avoid mentally kicking himself, so it took him somewhat more than a second to notice what Anakin was doing.

“...Anakin?” he said. “Are you getting your comlink out?”

“Yeah,” Anakin replied. “Going to text Obi-Wan, ask him what he thinks of the story. Maybe there’s some kind of detail I missed which makes it less of a good illustration of the different worldviews and mindsets of the Jedi and the Sith.”

The Knight shrugged, his thumbs tapping away at his comlink. “He probably knows it, he knows all of the old stories.”

Palpatine blinked several times.

“...don’t,” he said, then very discreetly scrambled for a reason why. “It’s the middle of a performance. We don’t want to interrupt them.”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s on silent,” Anakin replied, with a shrug. “Or vibrate. Did I put it on vibrate… hang on, Chancellor, I’ll make sure it’s on silent…”

He turned the comlink over, then a loud bwing sounded.

“Oh, right, I forgot to set it to do not disturb mode,” Anakin said. “Hang on… uh… yeah, there we go, I forgot I added all these custom modes. I’ve been missing a lot of sleep lately.”

“Perhaps-” Palpatine began, but Anakin spoke over him.

“Huh,” he said. “He says he’s never heard of it either. Wants to know where I heard about it, it looks like he’s really interested… or maybe he’s trying to tell me about a death stick vendor, he’s terrible with multiglyphs and he thinks he’s good at them.”

Anakin glanced at the Chancellor, hoping for some solidarity, then visibly noticed that the Chancellor was several decades older than him and abandoned that.

“Is there a book I can get the whole story from?” he asked, instead. “Obi-Wan is better at nuances, like I say.”

“That is not the point,” Palpatine said, trying not to get visibly angry. “The point is that there is a way to save your loved ones!”

“Maybe there used to be, but not any more,” Anakin shrugged. “Like you said, this was a Sith thing and the Sith are all dead. Well, unless General Grievous is a Sith who knows how to heal people, but I doubt it given how much he got hurt, and I’m not sure Dooku knew it either… hey, if this story needs to be publicized more then maybe we could have them do a play of that instead?”

Palpatine blinked several times, as he tried to keep up with a Jedi with possible undiagnosed ADHD and found himself discovering a lack of talent for podracing.

“What?” he asked.

“You know, a play,” Anakin explained. “Dramatic betrayals, lost loved ones, it would probably do numbers. It’d be better than this, anyway.”

He waved his hand at the ongoing performance of Squid Lake.

“...what is wrong with Squid Lake?” Palpatine said, before reflecting that that had really been a stupid question for him to ask and that he should have asked a much better one.

“Well, uh,” Anakin began, looking a bit abashed. “Actually now I say it out loud this might be really culturally insensitive of me, but to me this play might as well be eighty minutes of people boasting about having enough water to swim in.”

“It’s a ballet,” Palpatine told him, now completely having lost control of the conversation.

“It’s just a less scary version of Sarlacc Pit,” Anakin went on. “Someone tried to drown me in a lake once, because they thought I couldn’t swim, but floating on sand is much harder, you barely have to do anything to escape a lake. You just float.”

Very belatedly, Anakin caught sight of Palpatine’s look of total befuddlement, and shrugged.

“Watto was a lot of things,” he said. “But he had culture.”

Palpatine’s hands twitched, as he very seriously considered the idea of abandoning literal centuries of Sith planning and decades of personal political advancement in favour of stabbing Anakin somewhere it would hurt.

It was extraordinarily tempting.

“...hold on,” Anakin said, slowly. “I guess… the thing I’d like most at the moment is for… and that means… this is literally one of those times when I could fall to the Dark Side because of it, like Darth Plagueis.”

He bestowed a grateful smile on Palpatine. “Thanks, Chancellor! I need to make a call, I guess the ballet won’t mind.”

Palpatine was so thrown by the swerve that he couldn’t think of a way to stop Anakin in the few seconds he had.

“Love?” Anakin said, into his commlink. “I… think we need to come clean, because otherwise I’ll fall to the Dark Side.”

Palpatine’s eye twitched.

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It made sense, McCoy thought in a daze, that after all the times beings with telepathic abilities had messed around in his head, something would get left behind.

He doesn't realize it at first. Chalks it up to being a people person, having dealt with enough personal and professional relationships as both a civilian and a physician to just know what a person is thinking and feeling. That's all it is.

Until he's working alone with Spock one night, both bent over microscopes in the lab, and he hears Spock say something quietly, with perhaps a triffle more emotion than he's used to hearing from the Vulcan - "This organism may take longer to classify than I had originally thought. Leonard will be sharing the lab with me for sometime, then. I . . . am not averse to this outcome."

"First of all," McCoy says, having perked up at the sound of his first name - not something Spock often addresses him as while on duty. "Kinda rude to talk about a man as if he's not in the same room, just a few feet away. Second of all-" and he turns, grinning at Spock’s slightly startled expression and raised eyebrows. "I'm pretty sure you just said you're enjoying my company."

The startled expression doesn't disappear. "I beg your pardon?"

"Now Mr. Spock, if you think I'm gonna let you take back what you just said-"

"Doctor," Spock says, clasping his hands behind his back and watching McCoy now with an expression more curious than anything else. "I did not say anything."

McCoy's smile falters. He feels an inkling of worry and growing curiosity not his own - he knows, somehow, that it's coming from Spock. It's then he realizes that his ability to pinpoint a person's thoughts and emotions - something that has seemed to grow stronger over the past few weeks - is not just due to his affinity as a people person.

Somewhere along the way, a telepathic being messed around in his head - and left some of their ability behind.

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people who let me wake up to this get a special place in heaven. firefly_fox how does it feel to hold my life in ur hands....

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Teenager designs for Tikki and Plagg for an idea that I have. 

Thoughts? 

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Some interactions in the Kwami Exchange Students AU

First picture: Plagg teasing Tikki and her pretending she’s irritated. 

- Dialogue says: “Hey sugar cube” from Plagg and “Why are you like this” from Tikki. 

Second picture: Tikki introducing herself to the class

- Dialogue says: “My name is Tikki! It’s nice to meet you all!” 

Third Picture: Plagg introducing himself to the class

- Dialogue says: “The name is Plagg. I like cheese, Tikki, and sleep.” 

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Kwami Exchange Students

This might be a mini-fic, I’m not sure yet, but for now just consider anything I post for this AU connected one-shots.

————-

Marinette knew that the world was full of more odd and mysterious things than she had previously thought. She was a highschool super hero going after a butterfly themed maniac who wore a wrestler’s mask with a suit, after all. But somehow, despite the craziness she constantly experienced in her life, she still managed to get caught off guard.

Because one day, after weeks of Tikki making sad comments about wanting to experience life as a “modern human” (accompanied with longingly watching dancing videos), Marinette woke up to find Tikki missing. But more alarming than that, was that now there was a teenage girl curiously inspecting everything in her room. Thinking it may be an akuma, she looked around frantically for her tiny spotted friend in hopes of defeating it without waking her parents. She tried not to make any loud noises as she shuffled around in her bed.

It didn’t work, however, and the intruder turned to look at her with wide eyes that were somehow familiar, “Oh, Marinette! You’re awake!” The voice was even more familiar, soft and gentle while slightly squeaky.

“Wh-who are you?” Marinette tried to ask calmly, although the stutter betrayed her.

Keep reading

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Security 

by bibliomaniac 

The Adventure Zone: Balance/Complete/Chapters: 1   Words: 1,545

Barry has always loved small spaces, but this time he might have taken that a bit too far.

(aka the one where Taako explains to Lup that Barry has gotten himself sucked up into an umbrella because it's small in there and he's into that)

//

Oh, Barry. Sweet Barry.

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Ashes To Ashes, Dust To Dust

by Livsy 

Star Wars/Complete/Chapters: 13  Words: 36,193

In which Old Ben has time travelled back to the clone wars era, but twenty years on Tatooine have left their mark. Anakin notices.

//

A tender, heart-wrenching piece. Really leans into Obi-Wan’s position as Anakin’s father figure. A very satisfying read for Time Travel Fix-It fans. Good pacing and SUCH good hurt/comfort. This story doesn’t shy away from the choices Obi-Wan and Anakin have made, or the consequences of their actions, but it isn't a bashing fic. Theres interesting parts about Tatooine culture as well.