Thoughts on Old FanFics
So I randomly decided to check my old fics I wrote on FFnet way back from 2012 to super early 2017 after I rediscovered my old password to the account. Most I absolutely cringe over and be more than happy to let fester and stay on FFnet to never see the light again. Ironically, the one I absolutely cringe the most over is still one of the more popularly viewed ones out of all my stories that is still averaging almost 100 views each month (it was an Mpreg story and I’m so leaving it alone after I last updated it in 2016, don’t know what my younger self was thinking writing some of the scenes in that and thought it was okay, also I don’t know what the general attitude is towards Mpreg as of now and really don’t want to accidentally whack a hornet’s nest). Also, I can so tell when my undiagnosed ADHD at the time took over in the writing, as those were the parts that I absolutely hated the most due to the derailing and random nature they came as, or simply for the scenes that I am aghast that they were written at all.
However, there are two or three pieces that I’m thinking about rewriting entirely or reposting to AO3, since they were some of the only ones that I actually still liked or still saw some potential in. One is more or less still fine as is, though does need some minor rewriting (it’s an old Kimchiburger fanfic). The other two need some serious rewriting to the point they won’t be the same as the ones on FFnet (one is a Yandere Simulator AU focusing on Kimchiburger, while the other focused on the Korea twins and a military academy setting with themes of humor, family, trauma and healing [hurt/comfort]).
Obviously, I haven’t posted anything other than Commieburger content on AO3, but, honestly, I was thinking about branching out to include other pairings, even ones outside of the Koreas (first that came to mind was ScotFra, Scotland x France, which is one of my other favorite ships). I tried setting up a poll to see if anyone would be interested in reading these old fics, especially the two that need serious revamping, along with seeing me post fics that were not Korea-centered, but I can’t seem to find the option to do it.
If I find a way to get the poll running in the near future, I will set it up. Until then, you can either reply to this post with specific thoughts or, if you just want to show support in wanting to read them when they are better written, just like this post.
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unexpected consequences
words: 700
warnings: 18+ only!, smut, p in v sex, condoms breaking, pregnancy/breeding talk, unprotected p in v sex, established relationship, mention of marriage
“oh fuck, yeah.” you moan out, fingers gripping rafes shoulders. “right-right there.”
your moans are extra loud today, having been apart from rafe for nearly a week after he had business out of the country. rafe is just as pent up as you, thrusting harshly into your cunt to the chorus of his grunts.
“close.” rafe warns, but you could tell anyways by the swelling of his cock that he wouldn’t last long.
“oh my god, yes.” you moan out, back arching off the bed as your release pushes through your body, cumming with a final shout of your boyfriends name.
rafe drops his head into your neck as he cums inside of you, pushing as deeply as he can as your cunt pulses around him. you wrap your arms around his shoulders and press soft kisses to his head while rafe pants through his orgasm, until you shift slightly and feel it inside of you.
“rafe, pull out.” you shove at his shoulder, causing him to look up in concern, but he slips his softening cock out.
“what is it baby?” rafe asks. you look down at the condom he always wears, where theres always a bit of white cum gathered at the tip, but this time it looks practically empty, like he just rolled it on.
“rafe.” you hit his shoulder, causing him to flinch and look down.
“wha-” rafe suddenly realizes the issue, rolling himself off the bed as he walks into the bathroom, no doubt to inspect the condom and tell you what you already know is true.
“it broke.” rafe says when he comes out a moment later.
“i know.” you admit, shifting your hips from side to side again. “i can tell.”
“im so sorry baby.” rafe says with a sigh, laying on the bed next to you but not pulling you into his arms, not sure if you want to be touched.
“its okay.” you hum softly, mind still reeling. “you didn’t know.”
“what are we gonna do?” rafe asks, knowing you’re not on birth control due to affecting other medication you’re on.
“well, i can take a plan b in the morning…” you say quietly.
“or.” rafe encourages you to continue, able to tell that you aren’t finished.
“or we could wait and see. i mean i probably won’t get pregnant just from one time, right?” you shrug.
“what about if it does take? and you’re pregnant?” rafe asks, looking at your tummy.
as if you’re thinking the same thing, you lay your hand over your stomach, knowing that even if you are pregnant there is nothing in there yet, but the thought alone has you rubbing gently over your skin. “i don’t know.” you admit.
“i want to keep it.” rafe blurts out. “if-if you are pregnant.” rafe can’t take not touching you any longer, pulling you close to him and tangling your limbs together.
“are you sure?” you raise your eyebrows. you think rafe would be an amazing father, knowing how protective he is of you, and how he strives every day to take even better care of you. “we are so young.”
“i love you. i want to be with you, i want a family with you. why not start now?” rafe questions. he won’t admit it to you yet, but he’s been thinking about taking the next step, having even gone ring shopping to see his options. “besides-” rafe smiles, “why are you trying to talk me out of it? you’ve always wanted kids.”
you grin back at him. “i know.” you let a giggle free, feeling giddy about the possibility. you’ve always wanted to become a mom, especially because you have so many younger siblings. “so, are we doing this?”
“yes.” rafe says definitively, pulling you in for a kiss, a comforting one that you truly need.
“oh my god, im so excited.” you break the kiss to mumble against his lips.
rafe nods in agreement, lowering a hand between your bodies to touch your stomach. “probably too early to start talking to your tummy, huh?”
“definitely. i mean, we don’t even know if i’m pregnant, it may take a couple tries…” you trail off, hoping rafe gets your intention.
“well, i will just have to keep cumming inside you.” rafe shrugs. “in fact, we shouldn’t take any chances and i should fill you up again right now.”
rafes hand lowers from your stomach to your thigh as he grabs your flesh and pulls your leg over his hip, spreading your thighs for him as your cunt rubs up against his quickly hardening cock.
“rafe!” you shout with a laugh, but don’t stop him as he begins to grind his cock into your core.
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(DCxDP) The obligations of a rogue versus those of a parent (pt. 2)
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Tw: N/A
Will be crossposted to AO3 eventually
(Pt. 1 here) - (Pt. 3 here)
(Masterlist/subscription post)
—
It was a beautiful morning. Somehow, against all odds, the sun was shining through the thick smog perpetually covering Gotham.
And Danny hated it.
He was in pain, he was exhausted, he was grieving, and all he wanted to do was sleep for at least a week.
In an act of celestial mockery, the sun shone regardless.
After around twenty minutes of tossing and turning in bed, trying to get back to sleep, Danny gave up and pried himself out of bed.
He stumbled through the hallway and into the living room, staring openly at every splash of color he saw in the small apartment. He hadn’t forgotten what color looked like in the time he was in the lab, but it was comforting to see.
Someone cleared their throat. Danny whipped his head around, eyes falling on a scrawny, gangly man sitting down in a worn armchair, hunched over a laptop. He was looking at him with a dull, bored expression.
Right. Scarecrow.
His escape.
The chase.
His mom.
“You look a lot less terrifying without the mask,” Danny blurted out, slapping his hand over his mouth. “I didn’t mean that.”
“Well, I certainly wouldn’t call my normal appearance frightening,” Scarecrow hummed, focusing his attention back onto the laptop, “that’s what the costume is for, after all.”
“Oh.”
After a brief moment of excruciating silence, Scarecrow spoke.
“You any good with computers, Danny? Hacking, and all that?”
Danny jolted. Scarecrow needed his help with something! This was great! Now, he’d have more of a reason not to get rid of him!
“Oh, uh, yeah! Not as good as my friend Tucker, but I think I’m pretty good.”
“And you’re familiar with the GiW’s systems specifically,” Scarecrow continued, beckoning him over. Danny complied, shuffling over awkwardly. “Right?”
“Well, I guess? My friends and I got into their stuff a couple of times before they…”
“Wonderful,” Scarecrow said, standing up with a stretch. He shoved the laptop into Danny’s hands and gestured for him to sit down on the couch. “Then you can hack into their system and extract whatever files you can find.”
Danny stared at the man like he’d lost his mind. He looked back at him expectantly.
Danny sat down.
“Yeah, I-I can do that. Tuck and I built a back door into their system ages ago,” he said, checking the screen. It was clear that for all the skills that Scarecrow had, hacking was definitely not one of them. “But, uh, don’t you have someone else that usually does this sort of thing for you? Not that I’m complaining!”
Scarecrow scowled, and Danny felt his heart fall into his ass.
“Usually, I do,” Scarecrow huffed, “but I chose to leave my most recent job with the Penguin early, so now there’s no way that he or Eddie will help me with anything until I make it up to them somehow.”
“Oh,” Danny said.
He had no clue whatsoever who Eddie was.
Danny got to work quickly, hoping that if he ignored the gangly man, he would leave him be. Luckily, he did just that, leaving to go work on something in another room.
Danny checked the laptop’s security before continuing Scarecrow’s progress, making sure that the GiW wouldn’t be able to grab their location.
It was…threateningly good. Whoever Eddie was, he had somehow crammed the functionality of a top-of-the-line PC into a tiny, beat-up old laptop. It almost reminded Danny of Tucker and his terrifying competence with his PDA.
Tucker.
Amity park.
Home.
Danny snapped himself out of his thoughts, tabbing back into the application Scarecrow had up and began to work his magic.
He had near full access to the entire GiW database within half an hour.
Mumbling out a quick thank-you to Tucker, he called Scarecrow over to appraise his work.
“Fixed up some food for you while you worked,” the rogue said, handing him a bowl of oatmeal, taking the laptop into his lap as he did so, “didn’t know how well you could eat, considering you’re recovering from… surgery, so I decided to stay on the safe side.”
Danny had no clue what this guy’s deal was.
He definitely did not tear up at the first genuine thoughtfulness he encountered in weeks, and he did not look away as he ate so that Scarecrow couldn’t see his face.
At least Scarecrow was too focused on the laptop to notice or care.
Or, maybe, he was just mercifully ignoring him.
Either way, Danny ate slowly, not wanting to make himself sick. He allowed himself to absentmindedly look around the room for the first time, taking everything in.
It was strangely homey. The space was filled with warm browns and yellows, a few splashes of color on the wall in the form of (obviously gifted) paintings. There was a beat-up bookshelf against the wall, clearly second-hand, filled to the brim with psychology books. On every available surface there was a different colored candle, all at different stages of use, clearly collected over the course of years.
Danny knew that the man next to him was a crazed, murderous criminal, but his home was oddly reminiscent of Jazz.
He was not about to cry.
“Danny,” Scarecrow hummed, snapping him out of his spiraling, “can you explain this to me?”
He looked over. The rogue was pointing to a new report, seemingly posted only a few hours ago.
Nodding, he took the computer into his lap, pouring over the contents.
He read the report again.
And again.
And again.
Danny swore loudly, crumpling like a wet paper bag, head in his hands.
“What?”
“It’s…” he swore again, glancing back at the laptop, “they…since you became liminal from synthetic ectoplasm, when we’re within about 500 meters of one another, our ectoplasm signatures resonate, and they can’t track us with any of their technology.”
“How is that a bad thing?”
“If we’re not that close to each other, they can track us down from anywhere in the world.”
Scarecrow went dead quiet. After what felt like the single longest minute of Danny’s life, he let out a truly exasperated sigh, slumping over in his seat.
“Yeah, me too,” Danny mumbled, utterly miserable.
“…I’ll have to move my plans back a little,” Scarecrow sighed, “I can’t drag an injured child with me when I attack the Gotham GiW base, you’ll just get in the way.”
“Oh come on,” Danny whined, “I can take care of myself just fine. Besides, Batman brings kids with him to do dangerous stuff all the time, and he’s fine!”
“Might I remind you that the second Robin died violently,” Scarecrow snapped, “and that Batman most likely has more traumatic brain injuries than all of the Gotham rogues combined. That really isn’t the winning argument you think it is.”
Danny paused, trying to think up some way to win the argument. Then, he realized what he had ignored before.
“Wait, Scarecrow, you’re gonna attack the GiW?”
“That’s the plan,” he nodded, “and call me Dr. Crane. I’m only Scarecrow when I’m in the mask.”
But,” Danny sputtered, “Sca—uh, Dr. Crane—that’s insane! The weapons they’ve got- they’ll rip you apart!”
“Not my first time,” Crane said, making Danny wince. “Besides, I have plenty of experience avoiding gunfire. I’ll live.”
“You…” Danny was silent for a while, trying to think of something to say, “fine, but you have to take me with you wherever you go. As soon as they see either of us on their radars, they’ll hunt us down.”
Dr. Crane sighed.
“…Fine. I need some time to plan anyways. Now, you’re going to help me download these files, properly format them, and send them out.”
“…Why?”
“Well, some of the other rogues might appreciate the heads up, and I’d quite like them to be indebted to me. Besides, I still need to pay back the Penguin for ditching him, and he loves knowing things that other people don’t.”
Danny paused.
“That’s an awful idea, no offense. If any of the rogues know our weaknesses, they—”
“Danny, we’re censoring everything. The only things they need to know about are the GiW specifically, and any sort of laws surrounding them.”
Danny snorted.
“You care about laws now?”
“Yes, because if we get taken to Arkham, they’ll hand us off to the GiW the moment they ask, and it’ll be completely legal.”
Oh. Danny had honestly forgotten that Arkham was an option.
“…Ok. I’ll help you. Who are we telling?”
“I don’t think you really need to know,” Dr. Crane said, the faintest shadow of an amused look on his face, “but I’ll humor you for now. We’re sending the files out to the Penguin, Riddler, Poison Ivy via Harley Quinn, Two-Face, and Red Hood.”
Danny nodded. He could live with that.
“Alright, then let’s get to work.”
—
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something about the discourse on if fanfiction is Good or not has bugged me for years and i think i finally put my finger on why: even if reading and writing fanfiction is bad for women-- because let’s not pretend all these judgements don’t hinge on whether or not women are having fun in the wrong way--it’s a voluntary activity that people enjoy doing, and that should be that.
fanfic degrades your morals-- cool so does football. look at the way football players and football fans behave. when’s the last time supernatural fans set pittsburgh on fire, or tore up a strip club, or assaulted flight attendants? fuck, it would be cool if fanfic was on the level of literally any national sport.
fanfic lures you into sexual activity you might not otherwise have engaged in-- so does dancing and drinking and especially drinking and dancing, activities women are also warned against but have enjoyed anyway for thousands of fucking years.
fanfic is a waste of time when you could be reading or writing Literature-- almost no one does that anyway! like, if this is your beef you’re not allowed to turn on the TV until you finish Wuthering Heights. meanwhile the rest of us are going to do things that are easy and fun, because humans like doing things that are easy and fun.
fanfic is masturbatory-- masturbation is actually healthy and good for you if you care to partake in it. it reduces stress, improves your mood, and acquaints you with your body’s likes and dislikes. isn’t it suspicious that this is something women are also not supposed to be doing?
IN CONCLUSION i don’t care if fanfiction is good for you and neither should you. i don’t care about the latest thinkpiece that argues that fanfiction is intelligent, sophisticated, analytical, healing, creative, revolutionary.
i care that hundreds of thousands of women like it.
because that’s enough.
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