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No, I haven't got new missions, this is just a little challenge.

THE BADFIC CHALLENGE!

What You Need To Do: Bring out a badfic you wrote when you were younger. Read it, then tell the world about it!

I will now share a badfic I wrote.

The Edelweiss Flower Series

This was a series of HP fan fictions I wrote, one for each book. The story follows Edelweiss Flower, a Flower Faerie, a princess, and a witch ready to start at Hogwarts and woo Harry Potter.

This fic features excessive padding, character derailment, iPods, made-up powers, animal familiars, magic artifacts, and (sadly) Luna bashing. That's not even a tenth of it.

Okay, this I have to see. I can imagine it as sort of like a detective show, except with Alan Rickman trying to find and contain the Sue, and having to keep his knowledge of them secret from the rest of the staff.

The concept reeks of both awesome and win. Please do it. Please!

This thing just violated several of my favourite universes, my own sensibilities, my personal politics, my brain, my eyes and my sanity. I request permission to take this fic when I get permission, if only to restore the balance of grimdark and British pessimism.

Should i edit it? If there is an edit button, ofcourse.

Here, have the bit of music I'm currently listening to.

Nsfw warning.
https://www.fanfiction.net/s/9577610/1/Love-and-Tolerance-in-the-Grim-Darkness.
This fic is ridiculous.
Commander shepard Price MacTavish Skywalker is related to Desmond Miles from Assasin's creed, is a Jedi and is the Half-brother of Anakin Skywalker. He speaks 500 languages and has space aids, due to whoch he is a daemonhost. The demon has turned his hsir silver and manifests as an anthropomorphic fox with a lisp. He left the Jedi Order due to forcism, is covered in tatoos of love swastikas and believes fiercely in equality.
He is the master of space aids and used it to halt the effortsof Mormon to take over his body and cause the mormon apocalypse. Spsce aids comes from the planet cis, inhapited by the enlightened Atheist+ civillisation, which is led by Amazing Atheist.
His lovers are Dr. Robotnik, the droid Makarov and Max Payne.
His mentor Schlomo Goldenstein, the great Jewdi Master, spoke to him about how the Hutts were oppresed the Jewdi Holocaust was caused by the republic.
He invades the evil Nazi Imperium of Man in order to save Equestria, using his force powers to enter the warp.
His ships invaded by hords of hemaphroditic futa daemonettes, who his ship immediately starts screwing because they are not straight and are not cisgendered.
Shephered Price proclaims that cultural enrichment must take place in the form of anal without lube, while his crew is dressed up as lolis by the daemonettes. He then culturally enriches Tali, who is now a daemonette, by crapping in her mouth, causing her to remark that his cultural enrichment has a very strong smell.
His penis is caleed the Sacred Honour, and his feces Justice.
Later on the Nazi Imperials do BDSM with the cast of My Little Pony, while Sheparp Price advocates how rape is great and how the rape of his mother by his fathers was a beautiful act, remiscing on how he was evicted from the Jedi Order by saying that to Anakin and then punching him in the nuts.
I think my brain just melted. I'm off to the bleepka fountain, to bathe my body and purify my soul.

Didn't know there was an OFUM LJ.

hS

I don't want to bother with another account for stuff, and GDocs gives you a nice way to work on stuff together with other people.

NB: It's Permission with a capital P — it's a very specific permission to do certain things.

I've noticed that different folks have different ways of recording their missions. Some have put them on Tumblr, some on Livejournal, some on Google Docs, etc. I'm just curious: if you're a person with permission who has done missions, what medium do you use for writing down your missions and why?

He felt, somewhat, like he was being pitied. He felt, too, what with all the lingering guilt in his head, that this was somewhat deserved. What a very old person thing to do, that was, being pitied. Bingle didn't usually think of himself as 'old.' He always felt that the aging process was the kind of thing that officially stopped with your heartbeat. You never see people bringing birthday cakes to graveyards, anyhow. And if you did, it was always promptly followed by the sounds of sirens, and groups of men in white coats who work in places with padded walls. Bingle was feeling rather old. Perhaps he should have stayed at home. Read a book, ate some popcorn. Dead men didn't read books and eat popcorn but, then, neither did old people.

'No, reality isn't very fond of that kind of thing. It is both elastic, and very unhappy that it is elastic, you know.' He scoffed, faintly. 'You'd never imagine how it reacts, when someone snaps it. Terrible, very terrible, for everyone involved. And the bystanders and people on the other sides of the street, and a few other people who happened to be unlucky.'

He looked up. 'Now, generally speaking, plane folding involves the manipulating of. Well. Planes. The planes that make up everything are, when you look at them in quite the right way, flat. Flat, much like paper. It may be folded, too, much like paper. I knew a fellow who folded a ship into a crane.' He smiled at the memory. 'It flapped its wings when you pulled its tail and blew its horn when you pressed its head.'

'I do have books on the subject I am more than willing to lend, but, ah.' He smiled and shrugged. He didn't think this topic liked him very much. 'What do you do, Miss Nalleb?'

Lou looked from the card in her hand to Duane. 'Is this me being racist, Duane? Because I can't say his name? Gosh.' She stepped through the room, steadily following the directions.

'That'd be a horrible first impression, wouldn't it, Duane?' And there was the table. Lou tried smiling. She didn't want a horrible first impression. Not at all. She wanted a great first impression. Or a good one. Decent. Lou, ultimately, wanted a first impression that was at least a step away from 'horrible.'

Pretty good blurb, that. Especially assuming those elements of mystery are as central to the story as I assume!

Those're some interesting names, those are. Are they based on anything in particular? Some culture or some such?

You might see a bit more Alfen (Larfleb?) in the future, but you got to remember that merging our minds and bodies takes years of channelling and uses huge amounts of Ki-energy. It's a long process that involves lots of chanting and posing.

Cheers for reading the story, and also for the SPaG stuff! It's all been sorted (both of the issues were on my part. Ent that a surprise, eh?)
I am glad you enjoyed it, and that the spooky structure didn't throw it off and that the whole thing worked! Huzzah!

And, I mean. It wouldn't surprise me, if that were the case!

"So... yeah, haven't heard of him at all. What's he like?" asked the Spy as he leaned against the table and continued to sip his drink.

Apecian shrugged, then cast a contemplative look at the drinks. "You know, this would be the perfect chance..." He shook his head and grinned. "Nah, not worth it." He grabbed his own glass of unknown-brand soda and sipped at it. "Huh, not bad. Anyways, you asked about him? His name's Miguel. Last name... Correa, I think. You know him, or somebody who knows him? He's in Floaters, if that helps."

"Sorry man, I don't swing that way," he said simply. "So how about we relax for a bit? And help yourself to to the drinks," he said, waving a hand at the bottles on the table. "Just don't overdo it, yeah? Night is still young and all that."

He took his glass of cola and sipped from it. "So, if you don't mind me asking... who was the guy you were interested in?"

He didn't shout it, but he didn't bother lowering his voice to the levels Harris had. "That's a first. I get exactly what you mean, though. Here's hoping we don't end up at the same table at the end of the night, and that yours goes better." He took the pencil, and started playing with it with his fingers. "Thanks a lot! I was wondering where I'd find one." He paused to consider. He'd never seen Harris give any signs, but... "Do you actually want this to be a date date, or just wanna relax?" he asked.

"Madwoman with a 'partner' that's actually just a rock. She called it 'Duane' and kept on talking to it," he said in a very low voice as to avoid drawing Lou's attention should she be in the vicinity. "I mean, whatever floats her boat but I'm not into that. I'd like someone a little more... I don't know. Someone I can be comfortable around."

His eyes subconsciously flicked over to where Sonia was sitting before focusing back on Apecian. "Also, you said you needed something to write with?" he said as he pulled out a small pencil from a pocket. "Take it, there's loads in the Sorting Room. Don't think they'll miss one pencil."

She folded her hands together. "Not much to say, really. I'm sure that you have better stories than me. Had any 'good' missions lately?"

"Just met a guy, seemed pretty cool. Might say yes, actually, whenever I find a pen." Apecian grinned. "How 'bout you? How was your first date?"

Harris stood up to shake the agent's hand. "Long time no see, guy. How have you been? And Any luck tonight?"