#[ at the same time - what's the point of making one if it's not gonna turn out good xD ]
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Telling OP Char: “Are you gonna eat that?” And pointing to their crouch
Something silly - Based on that one Tweet
TW: Suggestive
Luffy:
Says “No” with a mouthful of food, he doesn’t know what you’re pointing at, but he assume it’s food and he will not share that easily. When you point again, trying to make it known to him that you’re not about to steal any of his dinner, Luffy will just get confused on why you want to eat his shorts.
“Are shorts tasty? Should I try eating mine right now?!”
Will take off his shorts in the middle of dinner, or at least try to until someone yells at him for doing it. You will have to drag him inside a room later and just show him what you really meant.
Sanji:
Doesn’t get it at first, mostly worried about you being hungry first of all.
“Oh, are you still hungry, dear? I can whip something up for you real quick! Anything you like~”
What you like is Sanji maybe with some whipped cream on top as well. So, you repeat the question, this time making your point known by running your hand up his thigh and gently palming his crouch. His face gets beat-red and he drops any cooking utensil he was holding in his hands.
“Like right here? In the kitchen? Right now?” Sanji seems panicked and flustered with his questions but he’s quickly approaching you with each question he asked, until your back hits one of the table in the kitchen. His hands on either side, his breath quicken and short as he looks down at you. All you needed to seal with the deal was lean and for a kiss and Sanji would handle the rest. He’ll even let you use the whipped cream on him if you really want to.
Zoro:
Quirks an eyebrow at you and says nothing, goes back to his workout and pretend you’re not there. He was lifting a 300-pound weight like it was nothing.
“...Can I take your silence as a ‘yes’?”
You weren’t gonna back down that easily. You hear Zoro snort, but his expression doesn’t change. “What was the question again?”
You sigh, “I asked if you were going to- *you point to the middle of his sweatpants* eat that?”
Zoro fights hard to keep a straight face as he counters with “Eat my pants? You’re asking if I was going to eat my pants in the middle of my workout?”
“That’s not what I-”
“Oh no, you meant that as one of your cutesy-jokes, right? What you actually mean is that you want to suck me off, hmm? You want to put that pretty little mouth right on my cock and use your sweet tongue to lick up all the sweat down there and then you want to-”
You slap your hand over Zoro’s mouth, you feel his mouth move into a smirk underneath your palms. Damn it, it was his victory this time.
Robin:
Smiles gently at you, and closes the book she was reading and placed it on the table. She say nothing to you but just kept on staring at you with that smile. You start to sweat a bit, it feels like you’re in trouble for making this joke to her.
“Umm, I’m really sorry, I-I’ll just go now.”
You turn to leave and just when you were about to put your hand on the door, a set of hands springs out from the door and turns you back around to face robin. Her hands pushed you towards her actual body as she waits at the same spot, leg crossed and that patient smile on her face.
More sweat beads down your neck as the silence stretches on for what seems like hours. The hands keeps you in place, so you can’t make another attempt to escape.
“..., Robin?”
“No.”
You make a confused face. “No?” You repeat back to her.
“No, I’m not. So, are you going to finish it for me?” Her tone level and cool, still confusing the heck out of you though. Robin leans back in her chair and uncrossed her legs, lifting up the hem of her skirt with one finger.
“Oh? … Oh!”
Well, it would be rude to leave now, right? You gotta finish what you started. And it not like Robin will let you leave that easier, anyway, but don’t worry her hands will also be helping themselves to your body as you start your meal~
Kidd:
“What..?”
Kidd looks at you with a scowl on his face. Then down at his pants and then back up to you. “If you want to suck my cock was say so, don’t confuse me with that shit.”
You roll your eyes, lightly kicking him in the shins for being a spoil-sport about it. You turn your back to him and start leave when you hear Kidd shout at you.
“Oy! I didn’t say no! You can’t just leave like that! I’m already hard thinking about it!”
You hold back a snicker and look back at Kidd, fluttering you eyelashes at him cutely. “You have to play along though~”
Kidd makes a face at that, scowling even harder. He grumbles something under his breath.
“What was that? You gotta be louder.”
“I’ll show you loud…” Kidd sighs heavily, weighing the options in his head.
“Fine… No, I am not going to eat my cock, so would you please come finish it for me or whatever.”
“Oh my! Captain Kidd said the word ‘Please’? It must be my lucky day!”
Kidd face turns beet red as he stomps over to you and throws you over his shoulder. “Shut up, I did what you ask for, so you better be ready to eat all of it.”
“And if I find a single drop on the floor, I’ll make you lick it up in front of me, got it?”
#op x reader#one piece x reader#luffy x reader#sanji x reader#zoro x reader#Robin x reader#kidd x reader#softy writes
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@zepskies
You're welcome! I really loved that fic and I'm so excited to devour all of your Eomer fics to come 🤣
First of all I love the gif of Butcher and Ben. It fits this perfectly 😆!
Dear LORD you didn't have to do me like this from the onset with that opening scene of Butcher. 🥵
It was also entirely self indulgent 👀
Correct. 👆🏽 Why is it that rugged men in their 40s attract me more than men my own age. 🫠🫠
This is such a vibe, 24/7 😭 Why do no age appropriate guys look the way these men do? Why are all these men in their 40's out here serving breakfast, lunch, and dinner and all the age appropriate men barely serving snack time (LMAO)? Someone explain it to me!
lmfao Eomer, is that you? ("romantasy" ftw! 😏❤️🔥)
As Tradition Dictates was living in my mind rent free when I wrote that and I'm not sorry 🤣 Plus this reader lives very much in a fantasy world with Butcher on a pedestal and when I continue it (because I want to make this one a series lol) it's going to be more about her separating the fantasy version of Butcher she has in her head from reality. Ben might also help her with that along the way 😉
lol this is one of my favorite aspects of reading/writing in The Boys fandom - everyone's creativity on creating our own fictional supes that cause mayhem for the boys. 😆😆 (Not "a reenactment of the eighth plague" 💀💀💀)
Oh it's the best! I love making up superheroes (a lot of my OFC's were marvel based one million years ago 🤣) and finding random powers. Plus as @jollyhunter pointed out (and made me think more about), envisioning the scene where they realize exactly what the supe can do is hilarious! Because on one hand Ben isn't afraid of anything and Butcher doesn't really care, but the minute that someone turns into a swarm of locust... what are they gonna do? I know in my heart that the reader and Hughie were already in the car with the windows rolled up the second that supe started to multiply, while Butcher and Ben are trying to figure out if it's worth it. (it's not lol)
Can always trust you to give beautiful descriptions of flora and fauna. 🪴💚
Oh my word, THANK YOU SO MUCH💗! Seriously this compliment is making me cry😭. It's my favorite thing about writing, describing the setting and nature in the scene to try and make it a little more immersive. One of my favorite writers is Willa Cather and she inspires me so much with her writing 🥰
Sigh. I can deeply relate to that first part, as you know lol.
There is no judgement here bestie, I'm in the same boat lol.
Girl stop torturing me lmfao. (But actually don't stop though) "Big hands" indeed. 🥵 Ben saw straight through her though and I'm living for their dynamic! lol
LMAO 🤣 Plus I was overly gratuitous describing Butcher, I had to give Ben a little something-something 😉
And oh yeah! I love this dynamic, Ben with an inexperienced reader, who's awkward (entirely self-indulgent). I think the fake dating trope with Ben could be so crazy and also a little cringe lol
Oh how magnanimous of him. 🙄 Like yes, let's all jump (literally) on that opportunity to debase ourselves for his entertainment. ...But of course, there's also that whole ridiculously attractive factor that makes Ben difficult to resist, even though he's a complete asshole loll.
Isn't he being sooo selfless? It's sooo big of him to think about helping the reader like that. What a stand up guy. 😒
Oh yeah no. He's so attractive and such a jerk sometimes, but then you painstakingly peel back the layers and descover he's still an asshole, but just less of an asshole to you and a more lovable big grump. 🤣
OMFg. That last one is so real! 🤣🤣🤣 I feel for her for real. I wonder how Ben's actually going to help her self-confidence. 💗
That last one I cackled for two minutes after I wrote it down- it is so true. I think that particular situation has happened to everyone, tried to do something nice for someone they have a crush on, completely overthought it and then had to go hide in shame. 😭🤣 He's going to help her so much and I'm really excited with the sequence of events that I've planned out for the future series lol 🤗
Awww this melted me so much! She's not in love with him yet, but I think he's gonna bring it out of her on accident with stuff like this loll. Also big surprise on how he said she didn't have to do anything she didn't want to do. 💚💚 I half-expected him to suggest exactly what she could do for him if she was so inclined. 😆
He's already so gentle with her and I can't 😭 I honestly don't know what to call their dynamic because it's not enemies to lovers? Maybe it's "acquaintances to lovers" 🤣 with forced proximity. It's going to be the little things that wins her heart I believe 💗
I was thinking about sex and Ben a little bit for this fic (I mean I do that for all my fics lol), because fake dating tropes always have tension/rules made to provoke the inevitable (aka the fake daters falling in love).
I think that because of the way the reader is (being more inexperienced) Ben is interacting with a woman who's not used to a man who comes on as strong as he does. Because yes Ben is big and brash, and a bit of an asshole (🤣), but I don't think that Ben is the kind of asshole that forces someone to have sex with him. I don't think that Ben would willingly rape somebody and that's why I put that line in, because I think going forward with this series, Ben is going to understand that she's different than the other women he's been involved with. And there are going to be moments that he finds her boundaries and he might push them a little, but he still will care to uphold them. (If that makes sense? I'm also sorry that I got rambly lol)
Oh my God, YESSS. She's in so deep already and I can only imagine where you'll take this next if you choose! I can say for sure that I'd love to see how this little scheme unfolds lol.
Aww thank you! I'm happy you liked this one! Yes, I have decided to make it into a series and I'm still plotting it out a little. Tbh I built in little details in this fic I think subconsciously knowing I was going to make it into a series lol 😅 Because the fake dating is going to get them into a even bigger problem in the future 😉 But thank you so much for all your lovely comments my wonderful friend! And thank you for inspiring me with your Eomer fic! I can't wait to see the others you're going to write for him!! 💕

Promise Not To Fall In Love With Me
Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader and a little bit of Billy Butcher x f!reader
Prompt: "I find him very attractive." /"I'm standing right here"/ "I know."
Requested by: @angrydragon90
Tropes: Fake Dating, Pining.
Summary: When you first joined Butcher's team the last thing you expected was to develop a crush on him, but after two years of pining, you get a proposition from the last person you'd expect to care.
Word Count: 5K
Warnings: I'm gonna label this 18+ just in case (I don't really think it is). Some cursing, Sexual innuendo, References to sex, Over glorification of a man's shirtless body (I'm not complaining) Reader is a little anxious/anxiety/socially awkward? Drug use/Drinking (Soldier Boy), Soldier Boy being Soldier Boy (He's a warning, we all know it and somehow still love him for it).
Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!
Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.
Main Masterlist
Dean Winchester Masterlist
Prompt Celebration Masterlist
A/N: This is the third fic for my prompt celebration! This one was requested the incredible @angrydragon90 💗 Had to do something with a little bit of Valentine's Day spirit, but I'm going to be honest, this one turned into something that I didn't expect... let me know what y'all think. I also was thinking about @zepskies fic As Tradition Dictates for the more *ahem* gratuitous descriptions of Butcher 😉

Butcher’s muscles rippled over his bare chest and broad shoulders with every swing of the mighty axe down to the earth. Each strike of the axe against wood sent chips of bark flickering in the air around him like sparks. Sweat rolled down his sun kissed skin curving in the dips of his muscular torso, along the tensing muscles of his back, and through the dusting of hair on his torso, before disappearing into the waistband of the dark jeans hung low on his hips.
Heat kisses your cheeks and darkens the skin the longer you watch him and you bite your lip hard to keep the appreciative sigh of the scene in front of you at bay. But it does little to stop your eyes which rove over the rugged man chopping wood.
No man his age should look that good.
Butcher props one of his feet up on the tree stump he’s been using as a table oblivious to your attention, shouldering the axe for a moment to glance at the stack of firewood he’d chopped, looking like a mighty warrior surveying his lands.
Your mind starts to slip into a fantasy of a shirtless Butcher riding horseback across a desolate plain, his dark hair long, and a sword strapped to his saddle commanding a group of riders behind him to his every whim. Before scooping you up onto his saddle to ride with him, his strong arm wrapped around your waist, and his face buried in the soft skin of your neck, his rough whisper in your ear a grating caress as he-
You clear your throat, cheeks darkening crimson, and take in a shaky breath to dissipate the daydream that usually starred in several of your fantasies. The same ones that probably came from the romantasy book that you’d brought along on this trip and were too embarrassed to read when anyone else was awake.
He raises a hand to wipe the sweat from his brow, shuffling it back through his hair that turns a chestnut brown in the light of the setting sun that flickered through the thick forest surrounding the small cabin you were all staying in.
Oh to be a drop of sweat.
You think mournfully, taking a long sip of your lemonade out of a brightly colored bendy straw, the same lemonade that you’d made in hopes of enticing Butcher over for a break.
It had worked, but only for twenty seconds.
Twenty glorious seconds that you got to bask in Butcher’s presence so close that you could smell the familiar cologne and the scent of sweat clinging to his skin while he drank the lemonade and you tried not to stare at his bare chest for too long. You hoped that Butcher thought the flush on your cheeks had everything to do with the heat and nothing to do with all the things you were imagining him doing to you.
And then there had been an additional two seconds when Butcher smiled at you and said “Thanks poppet” in the swoon worthy accent of his that made your knees weak before he sauntered back over to the woodpile and you watched him go shamelessly.
Hughie says something to Butcher you can’t hear, but it makes Butcher laugh. He throws his head back with a wide grin that makes you sigh to yourself again, hands tensing where they sit poised over the tangle of wires in your lap.
You were supposed to be working on a new gadget to help grapple up buildings, one that you and Frenchie had designed together, but you were distracted by Butcher.
You were always distracted by him.
It had been three days since Butcher, Soldier Boy, Hughie, and you arrived at the cabin in the middle of nowhere after a mission went wrong. The specifics weren’t important, let’s just say that there was a miscommunication and what the four of you thought was a supe who could turn into a single locust, was actually able to turn into a swarm of locust so thick you couldn’t see an inch in front of your face.
You had a sneaking suspicion that MM and Frenchie had something to do with the miscommunication, given how eager they had been to stay behind at headquarters and do paperwork, and the secretive smiles they had shared at the briefing before your team left.
But needless to say, none of you had been eager to live through a reenactment of the eighth plague and all decided to lay low to consider your options, while hoping the locust supe didn’t decimate all of the corn in the midwest.
You shudder remembering the crawl of the scratchy legs along your skin, the flapping of millions of wings like the beat of a drum, the crunch of locusts underfoot, and the low pitched hum of the swarm that vibrated so loud it made you feel your body shaking from the inside out.
At this point I would have taken a swarm of guinea pigs.
The cabin wasn’t the worst place you’d stayed at in all the time you’d worked with Butcher. There was running water and several rooms inside including two bedrooms with lumpy pillows and mattresses with creaking springs, a living room with a sagging floral couch, and a threadbare kitchen with dusty cabinets and doors that fell off whenever someone tried to open one.
Outside the cabin there was a small patch of wildflowers that fluttered in the strong wind that blew from the East, an overgrown garden where tomato plants, potatoes, and herbs grew without care, and a small front yard that was more of a grassy clearing.
Sure the cabin had it’s quirks, but the real problem was that the four of you were trapped here in the middle of summer with a generator that only did so much for electricity, but had no air conditioning whatsoever, which meant it was cooler to sit outside on the porch than inside the sweltering cabin.
Overall, it had been three days of nothing, but listening to Soldier Boy bitch about the lack of extracurricular activities, three days of nothing but hearing the soft chuckle under Hughie’s breath when he texted Annie, and three days of nothing but you lusting after a man who was twice your age chopping wood.
Why was he chopping wood when it was so hot and none of you needed it… You had no idea, but you figured that the universe was finally throwing you a bone because you got to watch him do it.
The porch was cooler than sitting inside. There were two creaky rocking chairs that faced the overgrown “front yard” that was more of a clearing and the breeze did weave under the overhang of the roof to wick the sweat that gathered at the back of your neck, but the problem was, it was impossible for you to feel anything but warm, especially with what was unfolding in front of you.
The weather isn’t the only thing heating up.
You think to yourself watching Butcher lean down to pick up another piece of wood, admiring the way his worn dark jeans cup his muscular ass.
Fuck, I’m just as bad as Soldier Boy.
The truth was, you’d been crushing on Butcher for the better part of two years since the moment the two of you met on your first day when you’d tripped and dropped the giant pile of blueprints you were carrying to your desk and he was the only one who stopped to help you pick them up.
After Homelander had been stripped of his powers and exposed for the narcissistic psychotic freak he was, you’d started working at Supe Affairs, thinking that it was the perfect way for you to make a difference in a world reeling from the revelation. It had shaken quite a few people to know that the so-called heroes they looked up to were in fact just as crooked as a line drawn by an elephant on a tricycle.
But you liked your job… sometimes.
Sure, the pay sucked, the benefits were dismal and the hours were long, but you didn’t care about any of that. You felt like you were making a difference, using the engineering degree that your dad had insisted on for something other than trying to figure out how to build a bridge that withstood the force of a punch from someone as strong as Homelander.
And you hadn’t meant to develop a crush on William Butcher of all people, you swore that each day to yourself, but it happened without warning. He was nice to you, he always had your back on missions, and sometimes when you were working on something after hours on a mission- like the gadget in your lap- Butcher would sit with you while everyone else slept, nursing a glass of whatever it was he had, and he always made you feel like a valued member of the team.
Yes, he might be a little rough around the edges, but you liked that about him, that he didn’t pull punches, rather he told it like it was. It was refreshing in the world you lived in when everyone else was so afraid of offending someone that they just kept their mouths shut.
But the problem was that you were younger than him and a little inexperienced.
Well… a lot inexperienced. You’d never been in a relationship before, never really done anything before because there wasn’t time when you were in school getting your degree, not to mention you had spent the last two years imagining yourself in a relationship with a man who didn’t know you existed.
That might be a little harsh, he knew you existed, obviously, but rather he didn’t see you as anything more than a teammate or at least like a little sister. The nicknames that he called you were all some form of “kiddo” or “poppet.” Nothing like the things you’d read about men calling the women they loved in books or heard in movies.
The most experience you had in the realm of love and relationships was binge watching Sex and The City (you could quote it by heart), flipping through Cosmopolitan Magazine and other articles about love on the internet like they were opioids, and reading through romance novels reverently as if they held the secrets of the universe.
Not to mention the draft of the romance novel on your computer… but you’d go to the grave before anyone ever saw that, and if they did see it you’d take them with you.
Reading about relationships was easier than having one, at least that was what you told yourself to feel better. It also didn’t help that you’d seen two out of three sisters married with kids, with the third one getting married in a few weeks and you without even a shadow of a date for the wedding.
That meant you would be stuck at the awkward reject table again with your weird fourth cousin who always came on to you and tried to show you the rooster tattoo he had on his hip bone, your dad’s brother who cleaned his dentures in public after he ate and his wife who always asked you what you were “doing” with your life and curled her lip up in distaste no matter what you said, and the gaggle of their ungrateful children who were always sticky for some reason and chewed with their mouths open while spilling food all over the table like cavemen.
Sitting there with them made facing the locust supe more appealing.
But even with the pressure of trying to find someone, anyone to take, you couldn’t muster up the courage to tell Butcher how you felt about him.
Butcher glances over as if he can sense you and you immediately drop your eyes to the bundle of gears and wires in your lap pretending to fiddle with something that doesn’t need to be fixed.
Yes, because that’s the way I’m going to win him over, by making absolutely no eye contact. Perfect, masterful. What can go wrong?
What the books, magazines, tv shows, and movies didn’t prepare you for was how to find the courage to talk to someone of the opposite sex without feeling like your tongue was going to drop out of your mouth or like you were going to throw up.
You wait a few beats until you’re sure that he’s no longer looking at you before you raise your head to watch Butcher again.
Ben chuckles under his breath where he sits beside you in the other rocking chair, leaning back with one of his hands behind his head. His muscles tense in the black t-shirt as he adjusts his arm.
“What?” You ask him.
He exhales a long and obnoxious cloud of foul smelling smoke from the joint he has in his hand. “I think you’re a hypocrite.”
“And why is that?”
“Because you’re out here eye-fucking that asshole and you yell at me for staring at you.” He chuckles with a wide smirk as he takes another hit from the blunt.
How can he smoke that? It’s like 100 degrees out here!
“I am not!” You reply as loudly as you dare, glancing over to Butcher to make sure that he didn’t hear Ben’s comment, anxiety prickling along the back of your neck, but he’s still talking to Hughie about something. “And you don’t just stare at me! You come up behind me like some gremlin out of hell, with your big hands and-”
“We both know how much you like the attention doll.”
“I do not!” Your cheeks flare bright red.
The only downside to working on Butcher’s team was sitting directly next to you. When you found out that you’d be working with Soldier Boy, one of your dad’s favorite heroes, you were excited to meet him, and then you had and he turned into another giant disappointment. He was loud, brash, short-tempered, rude, and was always either ogling you, coming on to you, smoking something, or drinking.
You supposed it could be worse. You didn’t hate him, and you got along with him, but he was always around. The plus side was that Ben was the one of the only people you didn’t have a hard time talking to.
Yes, he was attractive, but his particular lifestyle didn’t appeal to you and for that reason whatever nerves you had about talking to attractive men of the opposite sex evaporated when it came to Ben.
It was unfortunate that such a skill was wasted on him of all people.
“I just-” You hesitate, eyes dropping back down to the grappling device in your lap, not sure why you’re about to admit this to Soldier Boy when you haven’t been able to admit it to anyone else.
Probably because I’m sick of singing the line from Frozen “conceal don’t feel” over and over in my head.
“I find him extremely attractive.” You mumble on a shaky breath.
“I’m sitting right here.” The frown in Ben’s voice is prominent, but it only makes you roll your eyes at him.
“I know.” Your eyebrows furrow together. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“Why are you looking at him when you could have my full attention.” He leans forward, dark hair falling forward into his eyes, mouth pulling up in a confident smirk. "I mean there's nothing else to fucking do, might as well do me."
Your cheeks flush with his words, but you tilt your head to the side to study him, eyes slipping over his rugged features. Tracing over the neatly trimmed beard on his cheeks, the brilliant green eyes that seemed to glow, the way his muscular body filled out his black t-shirt and blue jeans, the soft dusting of freckles that contrasted the hardness of the man he was flecked over his skin, and his full lips that are curved up in a sinful smirk that would make even the strongest woman crumble.
But not you. Ben was… Ben. He was brash, obnoxious, handsy, impatient, and disrespectful.
At least, that’s what you thought.
Sure you didn’t work with him often, but you believed you had a pretty good grasp on the kind of person he was. You did, right?
“You’re not my type Benny.” Your eyes flick back to the project in your lap, moving your fingers deftly through the wires of the internal mechanism.
Ben recoils at the use of his nickname, but he recovers with a low chuckle. “Don’t call me that and I’m everybody's type.”
“Not mine. I don’t like supes.”
You weren’t sure if that was 100% true. You liked Kimiko. What you meant to say was that you didn’t like supes like him. Supes that used his powers without care for the consequences, Supes like Homelander who didn’t give a shit who got hurt as long as the job was done.
And you weren’t a supe, which meant that if you were with a supe there was always the possibility of you dying during sex or dying before you had sex in the first place. Your job also presented the possibility of you dying before you’d had sex, but you weren’t going to let that hold you back.
“But Butcher has-” Ben begins to say.
“Temporary powers. Not all the time.” You correct, unable to stop your eyes from drifting back over to where Butcher has begun to start swinging the axe again. “And look at him. Fuck, he’s over there like Paul Bunyan, rugged, chopping wood-” You sigh continuing to watch the man who probably has no idea you exist.
Ben rolls his eyes. “I could do that.”
You don’t pay Ben any attention, because Butcher is bending over again and you bite the inside of your cheek hard.
Ben sits there for another few beats watching you watch Butcher. The wind chimes that hang above your heads jingle merrily as the breeze picks up once more bringing the smell of the wild flowers and wet earth from the forest surrounding the cabin.
“You know I could help you.” Ben says slowly.
Your eyes flick back to Ben from Butcher in confusion. “Help me?”
What is he talking about? Does he think he can figure out how to fix the grapple gun? The other day he couldn’t figure out how to open the automatic trunk of a car and he just ripped the trunk door right off.
“Get him.” Ben nods his head in Butcher’s direction, but you’re still confused.
“How?”
And why? Why does Soldier Boy want to help me of all people?
“Well, I could help you make him jealous.” Ben leans towards you, his eyes sweeping once over you as he does, lingering too long on your chest and the edge of the jean shorts you were wearing.
“And how would you do that?”
“Well for starters you could come sit on my lap baby, see how you like it.” Ben winks. “Take me for a little ride.”
“Pass.” You roll your eyes.
“Oh I see you want to have a more advanced lesson.” He smiles, scooting his chair towards yours, a dull scrape of wood on wood, so now his knee is touching yours. “He could catch an earful of us tonight. I’d be happy to fuck you. It’d give me something to do.” Ben takes another hit of his joint, the smoke making you scrunch your nose in distaste, while he gives you an appreciative once over. “Fuck knows the only entertainment I’ve had for three fucking days is my hand and it would be good to have a nice tight-“
“No thanks.” You interrupt, face flushing when you imagine what he was about to say.
Ben stiffens in surprise. “What?”
“I’m good.” You shrug. “I’m gonna get him the old fashioned way.”
The same old fashioned way that I’ve been using for the past two years and had absolutely no results.
“And what way is that? Pining after him and hoping that one day he’ll finally notice you?” Ben scoffs. “I can see how well that’s working for you doll-face. How long have you been working with him?”
“Two years-”
“Fuck, two years?” Ben sputters. “You should just tell him that you want him to fuck you.”
“That won’t work.”
Ben’s face scrunches in confusion, the joint clasped in between his thumb and forefinger forgotten. “Why the hell not?”
“Because-” You glance down at your hands, thumb running along the jagged edge of the grappling hook slightly embarrassed. The last thing you wanted to tell Soldier Boy was that you were a virgin. The guy would mock you endlessly. “Because I’m younger than him and he’s-”
He’s experienced.
“So? You think that he hasn’t thought about fucking you?” Ben takes a long sip from the whiskey sitting beside his chair. “He’d be lucky to have a little piece like you.”
You blink in surprise. It was the closest to a compliment that Ben had ever given you. He did tend to compliment your figure whenever you were around, but you usually ignored that because he did that to everyone.
Truthfully, the thought of dating Ben didn’t appeal to you at all, but the thought of using him to make Butcher jealous was not a terrible one. And at this point, you didn’t have anything to lose.
Well… except THAT, but you wanted it to be special, at least that’s what you’d always told yourself.
You sigh, a little frustrated, watching Butcher out of the corner of your eye swing the axe in a glorious arch to the earth. You weren’t sure how to get Butcher’s attention. You’d tried the usual things…
Leaving the room as soon as he walked in to avoid a conversation.
Gone completely mute when he asked you a question.
Pretended you didn’t see him whenever he walked into a room.
Tried to bring him coffee, but then chickened out and drank his and yours and then immediately had to go to the bathroom to avoid shitting your pants while having heart palpitations.
Basically the social anxiety was working wonders on the office romance you wanted so badly.
“Ben?” You say tentatively, hands tightening on the contraption in your lap. At this rate you were never going to fix it and Butcher was going to have to figure out how to fly.
“Yes, gorgeous?” Ben raises an eyebrow. The blunt is between his lips now and he’s looking at you curiously.
“If we did pretend to be…” You swallow nervously.
“Fucking?” He leans forward eagerly, eyes twinkling with interest.
Well… I’ve never understood what it meant when someone wrote “his eyes darkened” until this very moment.
“Dating” You correct holding up a finger.
Does his mind always go to the gutter?
You remember everything you think you know about Ben.
Yes. Yes it does.
Ben leans back with a frown. “I don’t date.”
“Well it wouldn’t be real! You’d just be helping me make him jealous and it would be nice to have a little practice maybe…”
“Practice?” He looks confused. It wasn’t the first time he had in this conversation or within the last five minutes, but like hell you were about to admit without at least one drink to Soldier Boy the extent of your dating life.
“Yeah. I’m not the best at talking to people or-”
“You’re talking just fine right now.”
“You’re different.”
“Why is that?”
“Because you annoy me and I don’t know you’re easier to talk to for some reason!”
“Thanks.” Ben says dryly.
By now all the anxious energy has begun to pop and crackle against your skin at the thought of what the two of you could be doing and at the thought of you two actually pulling this off and you having a shot with Butcher. Not just a shot in hell, a real shot.
“But if you’re serious about helping me get him-“ You continue.
“I was.”
It was odd that he was the one who had suggested this in the first place, and even weirder that he didn’t seem hesitant at all to be doing this.
Maybe he thinks that we’re going to have sex. Your throat tightened at the thought, eyes widening, your nerve endings electrifying with anxiety. Oh holy fuck what if he thinks that if we do this he’ll get to do whatever he wants to me?
You clear your throat, heart beating just a little bit harder in your chest. The entire situation was making you regret the extra cup of coffee you had this morning. “What exactly would I have to do?” You don’t recognize your voice. It comes out a little more wobbly and just a little more tentative than it was.
You didn’t know what Ben was expecting you to do and you didn’t want to say yes, only for him to force you into sleeping with him like he’d suggested earlier, the most you'd thought the two of you would do is just make out a little-
Oh holy fuck then we’d have to kiss and I don’t know if I’m a good kisser and he’s definitely kissed more than one person not to mention he’s-
The thought made you flush to the roots of your hair.
Ben hesitates, eyeing you and you wonder if he can hear the deranged monologue inside your head or if he can hear just how hard your heart was beating. You hoped not.
“You wouldn’t have to do anything, doll. I’m not going to force you to do anything that makes you uncomfortable.” There’s something genuine in his eyes when he answers your question, something that you’d never noticed before.
Your mouth drops open in surprise.
It wasn’t that you believed that Ben was that kind of man, but rather that what he just said to you might have been the most caring thing that he’d ever uttered in front of you. He was the last person that you’d expect to care about someone being uncomfortable or care if someone else was okay with everything that was happening in the bedroom.
Maybe I don’t know him as well as I think I do.
In all honesty you only knew the way Ben acted, you didn’t know anything about his life. The man kept his cards closer to his chest than a well-seasoned card player and his poker face, forget it. You couldn’t crack that combination even if you wanted to.
Everything else you'd heard about him was through the grapevine of gossip at work. None of it was first hand.
Ben sighs and shakes his head at you as if he’s a little annoyed with himself for saying that out loud. “But I still think it would be easier if you just told him that you wanted him to fuck you. Would’ve worked on me.”
“I’m not good at that sort of thing.”
And it was true. You could take down a target, diffuse a bomb in less than ten seconds with a thin mint and a bobby pin, but saying something out loud like that to something else made you feel nauseous.
Ben hesitates again and in his hesitation the anxiety and embarrassment starts to come soaring back into your chest.
You were asking Soldier Boy, Soldier Boy, to pretend to date you so Billy Butcher would fall in love with you.
Well kids, this must be what rock bottom feels like. I might as well just pray that the locusts come back to take me away.
“Fine.” Ben states.
“Really?” Your eyes widen.
He shrugs, but doesn’t answer.
“We’d have to have rules.” You blurt, and Ben makes a face.
“Rules? Never been too good with those, Sweetheart.”
“And I’d need you to promise that you wouldn’t-”
You lose your train of thought in the wind chimes that rattle over your head and the sound of Butcher’s laugh.
“Wouldn’t?” He arches an eyebrow.
“Lose control.”
Honestly, sometimes you were a little afraid of Ben. You’d never say that out loud or admit it, but he was stronger than Homelander.
You knew Ben's reputation around the office- heard the hushed whispers of the women in the break room who said he was the best fuck of their lives, heard the horror stories of what he did to his old team, and had seen first hand what his temper was like. You also knew about his powers and worried that Ben might have a little bit of a control problem or at the very least anger management issues.
“I’m not going to fucking hurt you if that’s what you think.” Ben growls, his eyes narrowing at your insinuation. “I’m not some fucking monster, doll.”
“I don’t think you’re a monster Ben.” You sigh. “I just- I don’t have powers and you’re kinda strong and I-.” You take a deep breath to steady your voice. “I don’t think that you’d hurt me on purpose. But-”
Ben’s hand comes out to touch your chin, tilting your gaze up to him and stopping the bicycle of babbling you were about to ride around the block. Your eyes widen slightly with the contact, you weren’t used to people touching you, certainly not like this.
Keep it together…
“I wouldn’t hurt you by accident either.” Ben’s green eyes are focused on yours, and you can see just a sliver of emotion behind them that you can���t identify. “But if we’re going to do this you gotta promise me one thing.”
“What?” Your voice comes out like a squeak.
“You’ve got to promise not to fall in love with me.” He sends you a saucy wink that makes you want to punch the strongest man on earth, instead you settle for pushing him back from you.
But you’re not prepared for the wave of disappointment you feel when he lets go of your chin.
“I’m not in any danger of that Benny. You’re not half as smooth as you think you are.” You start to lean back in your chair, but Ben reaches out to grab your wrist, his touch surprisingly gentle, the contact burning through your body, as he pulls you forward, so close you can smell his cologne. Somehow it's something that smells classic and modern at the same time, a hint of spice that tickles your nose and makes your throat tight.
His voice lowers into a purr that vibrates through his chest, his next words expelled on a warm breath that weaves through the air between the two of you.
“Sweetheart, you’re about to find out just how smooth I am.”
What have I gotten myself into?

A/N: Again, not what I was expecting, but I really love this one y'all and I probably laughed way too hard at bits when I was writing it.
Thank you so much for reading! Likes, Reblogs, and Comments are not required, but are always appreciated! I love hearing what y'all think! 😊 If you'd liked to be added to my taglist please let me know!
Taglist
@roseblue373 @livya99 @mrsjenniferwinchester @zepskies @waynes-multiverse
@jollyhunter
#jensen ackles#jackles#soldier boy#soldier boy x you#soldier boy x reader#soldier boy x female reader#soldier boy fanfiction#soldier boy fic#jensen ackles soldier boy#the boys#the boys tv#the boys amazon#Billy Butcher x reader#Billy Butcher x you#karl urban#billy butcher#wonderful mutuals 💕#Hello Friend! 💗
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This came to me in a dream but imagine.
Max Verstappen x MotoGP!male!reader. They're very similar, both started very young, they both have four championships and they're both Dutch. But Max is well, Max and reader is an absolute sweetheart and cinnamon roll.
Thank you!
just read all abt motogp and didn't realize how fucking cool it was until now so ty for that! gonna start watching it this season!

max verstappen x motogp!male!reader
synopsis: two racers, both alike in dignity, in fair motorsports, where we lay our scene- you and max are very similar in a lot of ways yet so different that you guys just make it work
author's note: motogp, i was not familiar with your game. but srsly i have to start watching bc just reading and researching on it had me so pumped up at 11:45 last night bc i forgot to rest up 😅 worth it bc AHAHAHAJDLLWWN <- that's how im feeling abt motogp. hope you like it!
you guys are so similar before you even knew each other
you both started around the same time, being the youngests to ever race in your respective sports
fans were quick to point out the parallels between the two of you
you won a good set of races (even if it's hard to do) and max was dominating the f1 world
plus you guys were both dutch
so everyone's all like "what the hell do they feed those motosports kids in the netherlands?"
you guys meet in like some random gp, maybe yours maybe his but either way a random gp
im thinking cota lowkey before daniel was booted (rip king)
so like daniel sets you guys up practically
turns out you got along amazingly, followed each other on instagram and like added each other on whatsapp and stuff
like you guys really hit off
you talk and get to know each/build a stable friendship for like a year and half before you ask him out
he says yes of course, claiming he was just about to do it and you stole his spotlight
you don't care because you are just happy to have date with someone you've come to care a lot about
you go on this date, probably to the beach because you still aren't sure what he wants to eat and when
you guys start being official shortly after
skip forward and you have won your second championship and max as one so far so you guys are out celebrating and stuff
fans spot you, ask for some pictures and notice how drastically different your personalities are
like you seem all cheery and happy all the time while max only seems to enjoy himself when he's with you or other people he likes
but they also realize how perfect you guys are and how much you counter balance each other
like one gets too overwhelmed the other is taking them home and obviously vice versa
and you guys are so so supportive
like if your bike decides not to work and you have to quit mid-race, max is there to support whether actually at the circuit or over facetime
if max has a particularly bad race, you are supporting him in anyway you can to make sure he knows how talented and amazing he is
you guys don't fight a lot, but when you do you guys are both lowkey overdramatic and realize like ten minutes later how stupid the argument was and then make up/make out over it
anyways
anytime you guys can, you support each other
like if there just happens to be the races on the same day, you make sure to tell max before and after your race how amazing and proud of him you are and max makes sure everyone knows what an amazing boyfriend you are
also championship celebrations are insane
like drunk asf, waking up sire the next day
you guys are just happy you got to celebrate them together
even if max is a little overprotective
not as much as you though, because some guy looked at max the wrong way at a bar one time and you just about punched out his lights
look, you're sweet and all but you love max and don't want people to judge that
plus you are a max defender til the day you die
you tried getting max to ride your bike that you have a home, but he almost broke his arm and you almost got berated by horner
but horner's opinion doesn't matter to you because he's horner—pretty self explanatory i think
you guys will sometimes go karting together but max always wins (you jokingly accuse him of cheating to win but he just has a cheeky smile)
its always fun because you guys really just like to battle on track
though you are less aggressive both in your motogp driving and on the kart
max, well, you guys know how max's driving is
also i feel like you would drive him around, if that makes any sense
like he screams passenger princess to me and i don't really understand it but you know what, fuck it we ball
TAGS! (if you want to be added, lmk!)
@op-81-lvr-reblogs, @koalapastries, @justaf1girl, @ghostking4m, @spoonfulofmilo, @seonghwaexile, @alex-wotton, @raizelchrysanderoctavius
#oli's 100 event#formula one x reader#formula one x male reader#f1 x reader#f1 x male reader#formula 1 x male reader#formula 1 x reader#max verstappen x male reader#max verstappen x reader
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"We need cash." Two, Soda, Steve, Dallas, Pony, 'n Johnny crowd the living room in a loose circle like mourners at a funeral. Between them, the shattered, stacked, 'n swept together corpse of what had once been their TV.
"We? Ain't my fault it's broken." Dallas kicks at a shard of glass 'n Pony narrows his eyes at him. "Blame it on the kid 'n call it a night."
"Hey!" Pony stomps a foot before he can catch himself, crosses his arms. "It wasn't me!"
Steve scoffs, rolls his eyes. Pony's face darkens murderously. "Was too."
"No, it was not! You were the one who fuckin' threw me!" Soda 'n Two's eyes ping pong back 'n fourth between the two of them.
"Did not! 'N if I did it was only 'cause you started the fight."
"Bullshit!" Pony's voice hits a shrill high note 'n Steve smirks at him, self-satisfied. "I only started it 'cause you were fuckin' callin' me names you asshole."
"Well, I wouldn't have been callin' you names if you hadn't been actin' like a brat." Pony lets out an indignant wail 'n Soda has to fly across the group to snag him by the waist so he doesn't start right back up again.
"Ok, ok. Enough you two." Pony writhes around like a fish on a hook for another moment before Soda jabs him in the ribs 'n he howls but stops fightin'. "This isn't solvin' our problems."
"I don't see how this is an us problem." Dallas tries again, hooks an arm around Johnny's shoulder 'n pulls him close. "I just got here, Johnny wasn't involved, 'n neither was Two. Soda bites the bullet for not stoppin' 'em 'n Darry can string the idiots up as he so pleases. What's the problem?"
Steve 'n Pony both turn on him, united for the first time that afternoon, fingers pointed 'n accusin'. "'Cause Two was bettin' on us-"
"Hey! Look, all's fair 'n love 'n war or whatever they say. Nobody asked ya to start rumblin' in the livin' room of all places."
"Yeah, 'n Darry'll love to hear that." Steve grabs his hip, wags a finger in a pretty damn passin' imitation of Darry. "Two-Bit Mathews you're how old now? Glory God almighty when are you gonna get any sense- OW!" Steve hollers at the comic Two's rolled up 'n thumped him over the head with.
"Ok, Ok fine. But I wasn't fuckin' bettin' against myself!" Two glares pointedly at Soda who rocks back 'n forth on his heels, suddenly findin' the floor real interestin'.
"Soda!" Steve stops nursin' his head to glare at Soda with wide eyes.
"Hey! Look! I'm sorry!" He blinks, tries his best tip-earnin' grin. "It was all on you, Stevie."
"SODA!" Pony whips on him quick as quick, quiverin' with as much indignance 'n outrage a fourteen-year-old can manage. Soda swallows back a snort, grabs Pony's face in his hands. "I'm sorry-"
"Well. Tough shit for y'all. But I don't see what this has to do with me or Johnny 'n I'm of the mind to beat it before Darry gets home 'n raises hell."
"Uh, Dal." Johnny clears his throat 'n tries to ignore the pointed stares of the rest of the gang hot on his face, runs a hand up the back of his neck, blows out a long breath. "IhadfiftycentsonPonyboy."
"Johnny!" Dallas drops him but doesn't sound half as annoyed as he does impressed.
"Well at least someone was in my corner-" Pony shoots Soda an aggravated glance 'n Soda throws his hands up placatingly.
"Yeah, speakin' of which." Two whips his hand out, palm up, 'n makes a grabbin' motion. Both Soda 'n Johnny huff but reach in their pockets 'n pull out quarters, dumpin' into Two's waitin' hands. He hoots his laughter 'n shoves the dollars' worth of change into his pants.
"Wait, who were you bettin' on Two?" Steve crosses his arms at the same time Pony plunks his hands on his hips, both glarin' accusingly.
"Me? I wasn't playin' for neither of ya! I bet y'all were gonna break somethin'!" Two cracks himself up, howlin'. It doesn't last for long 'n Pony 'n Steve turn succinctly on him, draggin' him down to the floor 'n landin' jabs wherever they can reach.
"Good lord. Well, y'all have fun with that one. I'm peelin' outta here."
"Oh no you don't." Soda catches one hand deftly in the collar of Dallas' jacket as he turns to leave, hefts him back. "You even think about wormin' outta this I'll tell Darry about that time you smoked all that pot 'n threw up 'n I had to carry a bowl a soup down to Buck's for your scrawny ass."
"Yeah, or that time you got picked up for shopliftin' 'n when the cops called I picked up the phone 'n never told Dar." Steve pauses in his onslaught of Two-Bit to throw his hat in the ring. The moment he's not focused Two wriggles out, flips him easily onto his back.
"Or that one time with Tim-"
"OK. Goddamn! No wonder Darry's goin' grey. Y'all are enough to send a man to an early grave." Dallas scowls 'n throw his hands up, shakin' Soda off. "So what now?"
"Now we need cash." Two says plaintively 'n they all stare down at the wreckage again.
"Ok. Thanks, genius." Steve rolls his eyes, clambers back to his feet, offers Pony his hand 'n hauls him up. "What are we lookin' at here? Like what? Twenty bucks?"
"Twenty bucks? Steve, what world do you live on where a TV is twenty goddamn bucks?" Dallas toes at the the box 'n it sparks. "Jesus Christ, none of you unplugged it? Hurry up 'n yank the plug out before we gotta by Dar a new house too."
Both Soda 'n Johnny dive for the cord 'n Johnny pulls up at the last second so they don't crack their heads together.
"So what, like fifty?" Pony 'n Soda exchange a glance, avert their eyes.
"Uh, try more like eighty, man." Soda plops down on his ass, looks desolately at the hunk of plastic 'n glass again.
"EIGHTY? Guys. We're dead. More than dead. Dar's gonna kill us, bury us, 'n then dig us back up again." Steve chews at his thumbnail, paces quick back 'n forth.
"Naw, Steve. Be realistic." Two grins, stuffs his hands into his pockets. "He'd never go through all that work for us. I think just killin' us the first time around'll do it."
Pony groans, presses both his palms into his eyes 'n collapses back into the armchair. "Not funny, Two."
"Aw, not even a lil-" He's cut off by the throw pillow Steve beams at his head, hittin' him square in the face.
"Man focus. We got cash, right?" Dallas refocuses the room, looks at them each in turn. The silence is answer enough, the celin', floor, 'n walls becomin' real fascinatin'. "Man, y'all've got to be jokin'. Steve, don't you have some money from the DX or your da put away?"
"Uh, well, no. Not really. Kinda, uh, lost it. All." He twiddles the bottom of his vest between his fingers, refuses to look up.
"Whatta ya mean lost it?"
"Look you lose one goddamn drag 'n suddenly everyone's crawlin' up your ass! How was I supposed to know that? 'N hey, what about you, Two? I don't hear you offerin' anythin' up."
"Ha! What money? I didn't have anythin' to start with don't look at me. Ask Soda, he's employed."
Soda throws his hands up guiltily. "Don't look over here. I got six bucks to my good name."
"Yeah, good 'n broke-" Soda pulls a face 'n kicks Dallas hard in the shin before he can duck outta the way.
"Where'd your paycheck go, Soda?" Johnny prods at him with his foot 'n Soda playfully catches it, yanks at him.
"Hey, I keep the lights on in this place!"
"And the rest of it?" Johnny pulls back 'n, when he realizes Soda ain't lettin' up, reaches down to jab at the ticklish spot on Soda's ribs.
"What? A man can't be afforded a lil' fun?" Soda yowls 'n drops his foot, wrigglin' backwards to get away. "How was I supposed to know a guitar was twenty-five bucks?"
"Soda!" Pony's jaw drops open. "You can't even play!"
"Hey! Yet! Gimme some credit! Plus I don't wanna hear anythin' from mister no job over there." Soda crosses his arms dramatically but he's grinnin' the whole way 'n all of them know he doesn't mean it.
"That ain't fair! Darry won't let me get a job. 'Course I don't got no goddamn money. Look at Dal. He's got a job!"
"First of all, I didn't even break the fuckin' TV. Second of all, how much money I got is none of your damn business." Dallas scowls, turns his nose up. Steve groans, drops down to the couch with his head in his hands.
"God so we're all broke."
"Hey-!"
"Shut up, Dal." Two cuts him off 'n Dallas' shifts his glare, damn near murderous. "Johnny Cakes?" He tries, weakly hopeful.
"Uh, I got three bucks." Soda quirks an eyebrow up 'n Johnny plops his hands on his hips.
"Where did you-"
"Ya gonna ask questions or are ya gonna take it?" Soda studies him for a moment, arms crossed still 'n doin' a cartoonish impression of a fussin' hen.
"Boys, we got a real hood among us here today." He hoots 'n Johnny kicks him in the hip, both of them still howlin'. "So that brings us up to, what?"
"Uh, nine bucks. Ten if someone can wrestle that change outta Two's pocket." Pony leans forward, elbows on his knees, 'n sizes Two up like he stood even a single chance.
"Man. I want lillies at my funeral. Can I put that out there? Should we do last rites now or-"
"Aw, hush up, Steve. Look, we just gotta scrape together a little money before Dar gets back. We can get, uh, what was it?" Soda frowns, counts absently on his fingers.
"Seventy more bucks." Pony dead pans 'n Soda's self-assured smile wavers a bit.
"C'mon, that's nothin'! We just gotta put our heads together." Soda climbs to his feet, rubs his hands together in thought. "How do we get our hands on some quick cash?"
Dallas 'n Two open their mouths 'n Soda throws out an accusin' finger to each of them. "'N nobody's doin' nothin' illegal 'cause if Dar has to pick one of us from the station before he comes home to no TV he's gonna start inventin' cruel 'n unusual punishments, y'hear?"
Dallas rolls his eyes 'n mutters 'n Two nods absently in agreement but they both don't offer any other ideas. "Anythin' else?"
"Uh, pawn shop?" Pony offers.
"Yeah, great idea, Pone. Anyone have any expensive jewelry they've been keepin' back?" Steve drawls, dryly, apparently resigned to his fate.
"Well, it ain't mine but I got, uh, a Singer we could sell." Dallas leans back in the doorway, waits for the onslaught of questions. They don't disappoint.
"A Singer? Dal, you've been watchin' me hafta hand hem 'n you had a Singer?" Soda howls, goes to kick him in the shin again but Dallas is prepared this time 'n dodges it.
"Where the hell did you get a Singer-?"
"Why-?"
"Look! It was Sylvie's, right? When I kicked her out she didn't get the chance to take it or nothin'. It ain't mine." He throws his hands up defensively, eyes Soda still standin' close enough to wallop him if he decided to. Soda glares back like he's still makin' up his mind about goin' for round two.
"Aw, man. We can't pawn off Sylvie's stuff." Johnny backs outta the way as Soda decides to give it another go 'n jabs at Dallas. "She mighta been a lil' mean but she don't deserve to have her shit sold off."
"The bitch- Soda get offa me- two-timed me? Remember?" Dallas knocks Soda's hands deftly away 'n Soda sneaks in on more solid kick before retreatin'.
"Oh, yeah." Johnny rocks back 'n forth on his heels, still clearly uncomfortable with the whole idea.
"Maybe Soda 'n Steve could pick up some extra shifts for a bit?" Pony tries again, clearly not as willin' as Steve to lie down 'n take his medicine.
"Yeah, another winner, Pone. 'N when Darry comes home to no TV tonight?" Steve scowls at him 'n Pony glares back, the two still dangerously close to another all-out scrap.
"Well, at least I'm comin' up with somethin'."
"Doesn't help if it's all stupid-"
"Alright you two, knock it off. We can't afford to have to buy anythin' else y'all broke 'cause y'all can't keep your traps shut." Two cuts in 'n they both round on him, glarin'.
"Look who's talkin'!" Steve mutters 'n Two grins 'n flips him off.
The laughter 'n bickerin' trail off, lapsin' into silence again. Each lookin' guiltily at the disaster, eyein' each other. "Well, uh, is anyone not above beggin'?" No one says anythin' 'n Two clicks his teeth, nods. "Yeah, didn't think so."
"Hey, guys." Six heads turn to look at Pony, suddenly ashen 'n lookin' past them up at the clock in the kitchen. "Is this a bad time to tell y'all Dar told me to tell y'all he'd be home early this afternoon?"
"Pony." Steve flies to his feet, grabs Pony by his shoulders. "How early?"
Somehow, Pony manages to pale even further. "Uh. In like. An hour?"
As if it had heard, the TV hisses, flashes, lets out one final death rattle 'n falls silent so it's just the seven of them, eyein' each other like men at the gallows.
"Dallas?" Johnny gives himself a shake, grabs his jacket from the back of the sofa.
"Yeah, man?"
"Let's get your girlfriend's stuff."
#UGH#this was so fun actually#guys#theyre silly#when you think about it#also this fic was SO dialogue heavy#yall dont know it yet but this is me makin up for somethin im cookin up that is both sad N has like 5 total speakin lines#anyways#my penitance#theyre just my guys frl#lettin them be kids forever n ever#also even if they had managed to replace the TV darrry still would have come straight home#taken one look at them#n simply known#darry can see STRAIGHT through their asses#the outsiders#sodapop curtis#ponyboy curtis#darry curtis#dallas winston#steve randle#johnny cade#two bit mathews#my writing#also if you can tell me what song this fic is based off of ill love you forever#the outsiders fanfiction
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Hiiii I wonder if you take batman justice league requests? If so:
Yk those "Batman gets de aged in front of the JLA" fics? Well let me raise you one:
A meeting with the JLAs primary benefactor, Bruce Wayne, goes wrong when a magician (of some sort) attacks, and so they find themselves with a Bruce Wayne who is 20 years (or so) younger than he should be.
Anf they're all like "who is this angry emo teen and what happened to the flirty bimbo that was just here."
It would be even funnier if Bruce hears about a Batman and just goes "yes that's obviously me only i could pull that off" because he's been daydreaming about bat-themed escapades since his teen years
bonus points if he immediately recognises Green Arrow ("i told you to cut off that fugly beard ages ago, Ollie,") and starts fangirling over Hal ;)
I love your Best Laid Plans series btw! You're such a great writer. This is genuinely the only series I've been actively obsessed with in a good WHILE.
Love,
Anon who probably will return to annoy you.
First of all, thank you!! 💚 Compliments like this really mean a lot to me, I’m so glad you’re enjoying the series.
And yes! I do take Justice League requests! I tried to get all your ideas crammed in there. It’s not as shippy as I was gonna make it (I wrote too much lol), but I sprinkled a smidge of a hint in there. Just a whisper. A gentle nudge. A wink from across the room. Hope you like it!
———
It turned out that young Bruce Wayne was feral
Not in the way rich kids thought they were when they slummed it for a summer. That faux-rebellion that came with backpacking through Europe with their parent’s black card, or spending a weekend at some overpriced retreat to find themselves.
This was actual feral. The kind of feral where he had dirt under his fingernails and wide eyes that looked for exits before they looked at people. The kind of feral where he knew exactly where to jam a shiv between Ollie’s ribs to make it count.
Which, as it turned out, was currently very relevant information.
“This is fine,” Ollie choked out.
Ollie was a liar.
His face was turning an alarming shade of purple, which clashed spectacularly with the green of his costume. There was an arn locked too-tightly around his neck and there was, of all things, a homemade shiv pressed against the vulnerable stretch of his throat.
It all started in Gotham, because that’s where most bad things happened. Some charity auction that had featured a plethora of ancient artefacts from exceedingly questionable sources. And because Gothamites had the distinct inability to leave cursed objects where they belonged, it was only a matter of time before one of the objects went wild.
No one could quite agree on what triggered it. Hal was pretty sure it was the plump statue of an old eldritch matron, Diana swore it was the ancient scroll of indistinguishable language, and Ollie was confident the auctioneer had muttered something that sounded just enough like an incantation. Whatever it was — and they had already contacted some magic users to find out — the end result had been the same.
Brucie Wayne. Handsome, vapid, as sharp as a marshmallow, had finished in a puff of old magic. And in his place…
Well, something that very much wasn’t like the Brucie the world knew and loved. Barefoot. Wild-eyed. Unkempt hair falling into his eyes and a patchy beard that was trying itself best, but wasn���t quite past puberty enough to be full. He took three very menacing steps forward before he dropped unconscious. Hard. Because he had been standing on stage at the time and had straight up fallen off when his senses failed him.
Clark Kent and Oliver Queen, two guests in attendance, had been the only two that had not been herded out by the League when they answered the call for aid. They helped keep the peace, assuring the good people of Gotham that yes, everything was fine, no need to panic, they’re all in good hands.
And in return, those same good people of Gotham had just sneered, ordered the League to take care of their beloved Brucie, and then spat on them for not being Batman. Because this city was the worst.
Now, instead of waking up all confused and docile and flirtatiously grateful for the assistance — you know, like the Brucie Wayne they had all met before — they had come to realise that there had been a lot of misinformation about what Bruce Wayne got up to in his youth.
Twenty years younger than the man they read about in the tabloids, he had immediately reverted to something neolithic. He produced a goddamn shiv from his waistband and launched himself with the kind of fight-or-flight response that suggested he had a lot of experience choosing fight.
Ollie had been the closest. Which was unfortunate for Ollie.
He was taken by surprise, and that was fair enough. Absolutely nobody in the room could have expected this level of violence from a man who, as far as the world was concerned, spent his formative years travelling the hotspots of the world to partake in the traditional aforementioned rich kid mission to find himself.
Hal was the first to step up. “You wanna drop Robin Hood before I drop you, kid?” he said, clearly considering that maybe this was the moment to introduce Gotham’s favorite trust fund baby to the concept of a green energy muzzle.
“Easy, easy,” Clark tried, deliberately stepping in front of Hal. “No one's gonna hurt you. We just want to help."
Young Bruce did not look convinced. And maybe that was fair. From his perspective, he’d just woken up in an unfamiliar place, surrounded by people he didn’t know. He was being threatened by a man in a glowing green onesie, and coddled by one with his underpants over the top of his outerpants.
“Who the hell are you people?” he snapped.
“We are the Justice League,” Diana said, smiling gently. “We mean you no harm, my young friend. You’ve been in an accident and we’re here to help you.” She raised a placating hand. Calm, but not condescending. They probably should have let her deal with it from the beginning. “You may keep your weapon, if you’d like. But I’d ask you to release our friend. On my honour, we are not your enemy.”
Bruce narrowed his eyes and he scanned Diana in the same way a soldier would, and she let him look. She stayed still, perfectly patient, while Bruce flickered over her stance, her posture, her weapons, the slight in weight that meant she was ready. Not aggressive, just prepared.
Then his eyes moved to Clark, to Hal, to Barry, and back again. Something about them, or about Diana at least, must have registered as safe, because after a tense moment, Bruce’s grip on Ollie loosened. Which of course Oliver immediately took advantage of.
He took a deep, careful breath and stepped away with all the forced casualness of a man who definitely did not just get overwhelmed by an eighteen-year-old, barefooted, trust fund baby. His neck absolutely wasn’t throbbing, and he definitely wasn’t resisting the urge to rub at it petulantly. Nope, everything was fine.
So fine, in fact, that he joined the League’s line, crossed his arms and straightened his shoulders like he hadn’t just been manhandled by someone whose primary tabloid reputation was for shirtless boat parties.
“Mr. Wayne,” Clark started, stepping forward. Bruce didn’t look at him. His gaze was firmly locked onto Oliver with a stare so scrutinising that it could’ve burnt. He was really looking now, like he’d only just registered Ollie as a person rather than an obstacle. “You’ve been hit by… Well, we’re not sure what exactly. We’ve contacted a few people who can help, but from what we know already, we think you’ve—”
“I’ve been sent to the future,” Bruce said flatly. There was a crack in his voice that could have been nervousness covered up by the entirely blank way he stared at them.
There was a long pause as the League collectively processed that particular statement. Hal looked at Barry. Barry looked at Clark. Clark looked at Diana. And Diana beamed brightly like she always suspected that Bruce Wayne had more than two brain cells to rub together and had finally been handed the means to prove it.
“Okay, hold on now,” Hal said. “How the hell is that your first conclusion? You wake up in an unfamiliar room, surrounded by people you don’t know, and instead of assuming kidnapping or drug-induced hallucination or even just being really, really drunk, your first thought is time travel?”
Bruce’s eyes drifted over to Hal’s face, then lower to the logo on his suit and the ring on his finger. “Yeah.” He cocked his head. “Are you a Green Lantern?”
Hal blinked. “Uh, yeah?
The kid kept his eyes on Hal for a moment as he processed that while everyone else tried to make sense of his insane deductive skills. “We’re not saying you’re wrong,” Barry said, “but how did you even know? I mean, time travel isn’t exactly the default assumption.”
Bruce looked away from Hal and instead swept his gaze over the room. His eyes landed on a sleek, modern console with a WayneTech insignia embossed on the side. He jerked his chin towards it like someone who had just found undeniable proof that the world was, in fact, very stupid and he was the only one paying attention.
“That model doesn’t exist yet,” he said. “The closest working prototype was three years away from launch when I left Gotham. All the WayneTech in this room uses materials that aren’t aren’t widely available yet. It’s all too streamlined. Things like this only exist in concept journals.”
“But that could mean anything,” Clark said, but he was eyeing the WayneTech like he was trying to remember what it looked like twenty years ago.
“And you,” Bruce continued, snapping back to Oliver.
Ollie straightened up instinctively. “Me? What about me?”
“You have a goatee.”
“Uh. Yeah?”
The kid’s expression darkened with such absolute disappointment that it was almost tangible. Like he was cataloguing every single one of Ollie’s life choices and finding them completely lacking. Bruce shook his head slowly. “You had so much potential.”
Ollie made a noise of offense. "Listen, you little punk, I—” He exhaled sharply, dragging a hand through his perfectly respectable facial hair. “You don’t know me.”
“Of course I do, I’m not blind,” Bruce muttered. He seemed to be accepting of the situation enough to have dropped his defensive hand without letting go of the shiv. “Judging by your age, I’d say I’ve gone forward between twenty and twenty-five years. Judging by your facial hair, you’ve clearly not experience any mental development beyond—”
“You wanna go, kid?”
Bruce, with the unkempt wildman hair of someone who had been travelling rough for over a year, flicked his bangs out of his face like a little teenage bitch. “As if you could kick my ass, Queen.”
Oliver didn’t choke on air, but it was a very near thing. He kept his composure, sucked in a sharp inhale, and said, "What did you just call me?"
“Your name?”
"That is not public information!"
Bruce blinked. "Okay?"
"Okay!?" Ollie’s voice went slightly high-pitched. "How do you know that!? Does the adult version of you know?”
“Probably.”
"You’d have to ask him when he’s back to normal,” Clark said, but he was looking at Bruce with the very specific grimace of a man who didn't want to say too much just in case the kid would somehow be able to divine his identity too. Clark dealt with Bruce Wayne a lot as a reporter, he couldn’t risk it.
"Oh my God." Ollie scrubbed a hand down his face. "He’s known all this time, hasn’t he?”
Apparently, young Bruce had decided that Ollie was no longer worth his time. His assessment had been made, his conclusion reached (disappointment) and so had moved on. He barely even looked at Clark. His inner Gotham survival instincts had automatically detected Metropolis all over him and deemed him irrelevant. Diana and Barry got a slightly longer look. A tilt of his head as he clocked Diana’s armour and the lasso, and a thoughtful hum at Barry’s full-body suit clearly designed for speed.
But it was Hal, somehow, that got his full attention. Bruce stared at him, at the glowing logo on his chest, and made no moves to make it subtle.
“Hey, kiddo,” Hal bit out. “You keep looking at me like that, I’m gonna start thinking you got a crush."
Because young Bruce Wayne had the mental fortitude of a brick wall, apparently (which was insane, because this man was supposed to be peak himbo), he didn’t rise to the bait. He just stayed quiet, almost like he had something to say but was uncertain on how to bring it up.
Hal had the ego the size of one of his jets and he’d seen this kind of look before. Usually on the kids who looked up to heroes and didn’t see any of the bad things that came with being someone who wielded extraordinary power. Usually on the fans. The kind of fans who had posters and encyclopaedic knowledge and way too much enthusiasm for whatever it was they were into.
But the difference was, little Bruce wasn’t some starstruck kid who wanted an autograph. This was the intense, calculating scrutiny of someone who had just been confronted with a living, breathing legend they weren’t prepared to meet. For the first time since he’d de-aged, Bruce actually looked like a teenager.
“The suit is different,” Bruce noted, almost awkwardly.
Hal grinned. He might have been the greatest Green Lantern, but he wasn’t the first. It had been a while since someone actually knew about Alan Scott. “Yeah,” he said, glancing down at the glowing emblem on his chest. “Different Lantern, different look. You a fan?”
Bruce hesitated, which was honestly adorable, because for all his I’ve been in a fight and I know exactly where to stab a man energy, he was still just a teenager. And, apparently, the idea of being caught liking something was so deeply offensive to him that he had to physically restrain himself from reacting. He recovered fast. Way too fast for a kid his age. The brief flicker of something genuine was gone in an instant, replaced with careful neutrality that was vaguely familiar.
“I respect it,” he said stiffly, like he was dictating a press release rather than responding like a normal human being. “Green Lantern was the first hero I ever read about.”
“So, you are a fan.”
Bruce blushed. Not completely, he didn’t flush completely red and start steaming at the ears, but his ears peppered a pale pink. He briefly looked away before snapping his gaze right back to stave off weakness.
“I’m—” He stopped, exhaled through his nose, then squared his shoulders like he was preparing for war. “He protected Gotham when no one else would. When no one could.” His fingers flexed slightly, like he was gripping at something that wasn’t there. “That matters.”
Hal, still gleefully processing the fact that this angry version of Bruce Wayne had absolutely been a Green Lantern fanboy at some point in his life, let himself enjoy it for a second longer before Clark cleared his throat.
“Speaking of Gotham,” he said carefully, glancing at the others, “we should probably contact Batman. He’ll want to know what’s going on here, since Bruce is technically his problem.”
Having controlled his expression enough to stop blushing, Bruce had deliberately turned himself away from everyone and was now examining Hal’s ring. (Like a fanboy.) “What can Spooky do?” Hal asked. “He’s just gonna be pissed that we took the kid out of the city. Let's just get it fixed and let him know later.”
“He’ll need to know if there are cursed artefacts being circulated,” Diana said. “And I imagine that time displacement is not the only thing he will need to worry about.”
Ollie nodded. “Yeah, this has gotta be more than just temporal problems,” he said, frowning in Bruce’s general direction. “He’s nothing like Bruce Wayne. I’m thinking there’s been a universe switcheroo.”
“Multiversal doppelganger,” Barry agreed.
Bruce didn’t respond to those allegations, but he did say, “This Batman person operates Gotham?”
“Yeah,” Hal replied. “After your Green Lantern left, someone had to pick up the slack. Spooky gets real pissy if anyone else steps in on his turf. You’ve probably met him. Well, you will. In about twenty years or so.”
“Mm. No. He won’t be available right now,” Bruce said decidedly. He looked up. “I have a friend who can do magic. She’ll be able to help, assuming my future self is still in contact with her.”
Diana cocked her head at Bruce. “Why would you assume he would be unavailable?” she asked.
“I’d think that would be obvious,” he replied. He looked at the blank expressions around him and rolled his eyes. “Think about it. If this person is as territorial as you say, then he would have already been aware of whatever was happening in Gotham. And if not, then news would have already spread and he would have contacted you all to confirm it. This is assuming you’re all a part of the same team, of course. With the amount of WayneTech around, Gotham definitely has a lot of input in your work, so I imagine you’ve got to be working with her vigilante.”
“That’s very astute.”
“If Batman is not here, then he’s either ignoring the issue, or he’s indisposed. I’m inclined to believe the latter.” Bruce looked at Oliver. “Did you ever wonder why I dropped out of school to go travelling?”
“I figured you were still grieving and needed time to yourself.”
Bruce bristled a little, almost like he didn’t expect to be called out on that. “I left because Gotham needed me to,” he said.
He didn’t elaborate. He didn’t need to. The pieces were all there. Scattered, sure, but if they were smart enough to put on their capes the right way around, then they were smart enough to figure it out. Hell, he had managed to figure it out, and he’d only been in this future for about twenty minutes.
Diana watched him with knowing eyes like she had figured it out the moment he turned up as this angry ball of vengeance instead of the delicate heir with a silver spoon up his butt. The others took a little longer to catch up, but they’d get there eventually. Clark’s expression was already beginning to change to one of wild disbelief, while Ollie had gone completely blank like he was struggling to compute.
Before anyone could say anything, before the trampling elephant in the room could be addressed with the appropriate amount of what the actual hell, before someone (most likely Hal) said something incredibly obnoxious, the air rippled and the deus ex machina descended.
Magic, thick and tangible, swept through the room like the universe itself let out a sigh of relief, and Zatanna Zatara stepped into existence with the kind of exasperation of someone who had been called far too often to deal with the League’s magical problems. She scanned the room without saying anything before her gaze landed on Bruce. Barefoot, feral, still holding a shiv like it was an extension of his hand. She sighed.
“Of course it would be you,” she said, but she was smiling as she said it.
“Can you fix this?” Clark asked without taking his eyes off Bruce.
“Yeah,” Zatanna nodded.
“And it’s actually gonna be the Bruce from this universe, right?” Ollie put in, unnerved. “We’re not gonna get a whole different Wayne? Because he’s implied something really big and I don’t think I can mentally take it if it’s true.”
“Oh, he’ll be the same Bruce Wayne, alright.” She turned back to the kid, lowering her voice slightly. “Maybe you’ll just know him a little better now.
Bruce didn’t react, but the air shifted around him, like he knew exactly what she meant and didn’t particularly appreciate it. Then, with a flick of her fingers and a gentle incantation, the world twisted with a shimmer of glowing energy, reality bending in on itself— And just like that, they were gone.
An incredibly weighted, knowing silence settled over the Watchtower. For a long moment, no one spoke. Then Hal clapped his hands together and turned to the others with the slow, self-satisfied grin of someone who just found out something hilarious.
“So.” He raised an eyebrow. “That was Batman, right?”
#hal proceed to get batman green lantern merch for christmas#he's now a proud owner of an 'i love lantern' t-shirt#he says he got rid of it but he didn't#the end#answered#sam writes#request#batlantern#sort of??#justice league#bruce wayne#hal jordan#oliver queen
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I know canonically the chances of charlastor becoming canon are basically nil, but I do think Alastor at least cares about Charlie. You can’t tell me this man is still 100% only manipulating her after he nearly died while fighting for her/her hotel. Originally, it was obviously manipulation but I’m convinced at some point, it turned into genuine care (or, dare I say, affection).
All I'm gonna say is that if Viv wants to break the trope she better have some damn good writing behind it. Nonny, I was in the miraculous fandom for literal YEARS, I still have a soft spot for seasons 1-3 at which point the series ends. There's a lot of tropey bad writing I can forgive.
What I cannot, however, is "subverting" tropes for the sake of subverting them so you feel smarter than everyone else. Yes I'm bitter still and that guyTM can suck a sour egg for wasting nearly a decade of his fans time after continuously mining the fandom for content he then took credit for because he's just THAT GOOD.
Where were we? Oh, right, Hazbin. I think we're a bit more in luck because Alastor is one of Viv's oldest characters and she's definitely more prone to letting the characters evolve over time rather than trying to force characters that developed past their original inception and thus no longer fit the roles into them like a square peg in a round hole. Viv's writing has its problems, and I'm not saying either hellaverse show is some brilliant masterpiece of animation, but at the very least her use of tropes is consistent with the trope she uses. All her current narrative setup seems to indicate that Alastor will grow to care for Charlie, deeply. He already does if we consider that Alastor isn't technically bound by anything to help the hotel. Their arrangement is that he is ordered to help for as long as he so desires.
Until that specific line from the pilot is contradicted I consider it canon still. Technically the pilot is still canon since episode 1 takes place a week after it. Alastor doesn't HAVE to do anything with the hotel if he really doesn't want to. He can walk away at any time, and he probably will; at least in that "I'm developing feelings I don't want for people so I'm going to isolate myself" loner way. But it's too late. He already cares.
Amir's caginess about the question of who Alastor would do anything for is also highly suspect. Like we know one person definitively is his mother. The odds of it being a male character are almost nonexistent based on current characterization. So out of the main cast? Charlie is the most likely candidate. Viv has also confirmed that Alastor likes people not too much like him, but not too different either. Charlie is the one who fits that exactly. Two sides of the same coin. The other's dark reflection; everything they could be if circumstances were different but aren't. Could it be someone else entirely? Yeah sure I guess but we better get some hints as to who before the big reveal or else it wouldn't make any sense.
I'm not saying charlastor has to be canon. But to deny that all current narrative tropes indicate that Alastor is growing to care for Charlie in a deeper but platonic way is just insane to me.
#charlastor#radiobelle#hazbin hotel#dream replies#charlie morningstar#alastor#ml salt#i guess#it's been years and I'm still not over it#miraculous is an object lesson in how hubris and narcissism fucks up good storytelling
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Some thoughts on fandom engagement
Post got long but TL;DR engagement is low, Never Ever Stop Creating! fandom is community and everyone needs to participate
extended thoughts and personal anecdote under the cut:
For writers:
I have turned off Kudos emails from ao3. I found myself checking my email and feeling discouraged when I didn't get them. So i turned the emails off so I wouldn't know I wasn't getting them. Even now when I go to my dashboard, I specifically do not look at the bottom of the work to see those numbers.
This is not me telling you to do the same thing. It is easier said than done, and I understand that. But that's what I had to do to have a good time.
Because for a little while, posting made it less fun. I felt like people didn't like it. I was being overly critical of myself, couldn't write more than three sentences without feeling like I was garbage and my work was garbage and I should just quit. I would post a chapter and then immediately want to take the whole thing down. But then I realized...
I have about four half-finished projects in my WIP folder. I have written like 500,000 words that no one has ever read. Because I had fun doing it! Because I enjoy writing!!
And the point of this isn't to say writers shouldn't want or expect engagement. That is not at all what I'm saying!
What I am saying is that if you enjoy writing and you find that posting your work is making you feel unmotivated, discouraged, and you're not having fun anymore it is okay to take it down. It’s okay to make your work private for a while. It's okay to turn off Kudos emails or even comments. Whatever you need to do to make it fun again, do that. If you enjoy creating, please do not let the lack of engagement stop you!
It's been really helpful for me to find a community of creators! Without the support of @thedissonantverses @flowersforthemachines and @basedonconjecture I may have deleted my work months ago!
And that said, if you want someone to read your work, there are so many people (including and especially me) who would love to read and promote you! Participate in WIP Wednesday and Writing Weekend! Promote your own work!! Promote other creators' work! This is how we build community!
For readers:
If you love fanfic, and fanart and fandom in general engage with it. The urge to take down your work is real! And not unique to me! If writers don't get kudos or comments or replies on tumblr, they will delete their work. If there's a fic you find, and you enjoy it but you don't engage with it do not be surprised if you log on one day and it isn't there anymore. Or if it gets orphaned. Or if they simply stop updating it.
Fandom is meant to be a community. The whole purpose of it is to enjoy the things you enjoy with other people. If you're consuming free work (be that fanfic, fan art or something else) and you're not liking or reblogging or commenting then those people will stop sharing it.
And my personal take, while we're here: I do not get it.
I do not understand why there are people out there who do not jump at the chance to directly engage with authors and artists who make things that you enjoy. You can tell them personally how much you like their work! You can ask them questions! You can send them your unhinged ramblings on The Character.
And before anyone comes to my replies and says: I never know what to say ))):
Here is a non-comprehensive list of 10 slightly unhinged things that I've actually commented on fics (some edited for brevity)
I am chewing on glass.
bye i’m putting my fist through the wall 😭
These two are consuming my every waking thought
That ruined me i fear. I have passed away
THIS IS LITERATURE. absolutely tore my heart out.
You are sick in the head my friend
Im gonna sip on this sentence a while.🤌🏻
how could you do this to them? writing about this in my burn book brb
A) You absolutely cooked here B) how fucking dare you?
kicking my feet and giggling!!!!!
And this isn't just for ao3/fanfic writers. Fanartists deserve love too! Artists love feedback!! The more unhinged the better!! Tell us we're evil! Quote our work back to us! Tell us you're smashing through walls like the Kool-aid man! Tell us that our work is making you scream and cry and blush!
No one is expecting you to leave several long paragraphs with an actual annotated review (not that that wouldn't also be welcome). Comment! Engage! Community is the whole point!
This also goes for finding Tumblr mutuals, by the way. If you want to make friends with people on here engage with their content! Like their posts! Reply to them! Send asks and messages!
Stop being afraid to enjoy things! That is like...all we are doing here.
#da fandom#dragon age the veilguard#dragon age#building community#fic writing#fandom engagement#ao3 community#dragon age community#artists community#state of fandom#idk i really love it here#and I want you guys to love it#and the answer to all of the above is#please engage with each other#and I'm not the best at it either!#but I'm getting better!#and it's been so lovely!
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PHANTOM

CHAPTER THREE
Chapter 3:The New girl
The following morning Tucker and Dan spent so much time trying to get a better handle on Dan's powers that they almost forgot all about class, that is until Tucker got suspicious .
Tucker: “Uhh Danny?”
Dan:”yeah?”
Tucker:”What time is it??”
Dan shurgged
Dan:”I don't know, like 8:30…”
Tucker:”And what time do we usually have class?”
Dan:”like eight forty fi…….”
The sudden realization hit Danny like a wrecking ball.
Dan:”.....ohhhhhhhh crap”
The two immediately rushed to get ready in an attempt to avoid one of Mr Lancers “when you’re late you’re only failing yourself, lectures”. They both quickly got dressed and swallowed the breakfast that Tucker made..not wasting any time chewing. Tucker grabs his and Danny's backpacks and immediately starts heading out the door before Danny stopped him.
Dan:”What are you doing!?”
Tucker:”leaving?If we’re late, Lancer will have our asses!”
Dan:”Dude we're not gonna make it on foot,it'll take too long.”
Tucker:”Then what do you suggest we do?”
Dan gave Tucker a devious grin and his eyes flashed a ghastly green in response.
Dan:”Just one...I’m going ghost!!”
In a quick flash of light Dan turns into his ghost form which had a few differences,previously when Dan transformed he kept the same clothes that he wore normally but this time he wore an outfit that consisted of black sweatshirt with a white hood,black pants and paired with white fingerless gloves and sneakers.It was Tucker's idea to give the phantom persona a different outfit so that he couldn't be traced back to Dan.
With little regard for safety he grabs Tucker and leaps out of the window,at first Dan is confident that today will be the day he actually flies but that confidence becomes short-lived as the duo immediately start plummeting to the ground. Just as last time, Dan manages to cushion Tucker’s fall before immediately reverting back to his human form.
Dan::So uh...heh .Still can’t fly.”
Tucker punches him in his arm before getting up and dusting himself off.
Dan:”You know this is the 2nd time we’ve fallen out of the window this week,you think the neighbors are worried?”
Tucker:”We don't have time for this!”
He grabbed Dan and together the two ran at maximum speed to class,they eventually arrived 10 minutes late and were greeted by a very annoyed Lancer.
Lancer:”Tucker,Daniel glad you two took so much time out of your busy schedule to join us..”
Mr Lancers sarcastic remarks were met with giggling by the rest of the class much to the boys' annoyance.
Dan:”Mr Lancer we can explain!!”
Tucker:”yeah,see what had happened was..”
Lancer, who was clearly too angry to care, raised his hand, cutting them off.
Mr Lancer:”First the mess in the lab yesterday then your tardiness today..you boys are going to drive me up a wall!.Just take your seats so that I may begin my lecture.”
He points the boys over to the back of the lecture hall and they do as instructed. Dan took a seat next to an attractive asian girl with extremely pale skin and hair as black as his that matches her purple eyes.She was of slim build and averaged height and She wore a black crop top with a small camo green spaghetti strap tank top underneath , she also wore a black studded choker, with matching bracelets, black combat boots and black miniskirt with purple stockings underneath.
Dan is only able to pay attention for few minutes into the class before a tugging on his sleeve derails his attention.
Dan:”Ummm hello?”
She flashes him a friendly smile.
????:” I’ve never seen Lancer too mad to even yell! He must be really tired of you guys.”
Dan lets out a quiet chuckle.
Dan:”Yeahhhh we kinda messed up the lab yesterday so he's a bit pissed.”
The girl giggled in response.
????:”damn I'd be pissed too if i was him.”
Dan:”And who are you exactly?Are you even in this class?”
????:”I am,I just usually don’t come to this class since the work is super easy. “
She leaned back in her chair as if to emphasize how laid back Lancers class was for her.
????:”I figured why waste the time.”
Dan:”heh noted..”
????:”As for my name, it’s Sam Manson, and you are?”
Dan:”Dan Fenton..but my friends call me Danny.”
Sam:”So Danny, how'd you guys mess up the lab??”
Dan let out a weak chuckle as he sheepishly rubbed the back of his head.
Dan:”our..ghost portal exploded.”
Sam:”Ghost portal??”
Dan:”Yeah.me and Tuck are Paranormal studies majors.”
He gestured over to Tucker who at the sound of his name waved in response.
Dan”We were trying to make a ghost portal but Our calculations were wrong and well it went boom……”
Sam's eyes lit up in wonder.
Sam:”That's so cool!”
Dan:”It is??”
Sam:”Well not the part about your portal exploding, that part sucks but Ghosts are super cool though!”
Dan:”You’re a ghost fanatic?”
She schooched her chair closer to Dan As if his question was some kind of signal.
Sam:”not just ghosts! Vampires, werewolves and really just supernatural stuff in general!”
Dan:”So I take it you’re also a paranormal studies major?”
She nodded in response while flashing him another smile.
Dan:”So are we.”
Sam:”Dope!The 3 of us should hang out sometime then.”
Dan:”Sounds like fu..”
But before he could finish his sentence a gust of blue smoke escaped Dan's mouth.
Dan:”that can’t be good…”
Sam:”What can’t?”
Dan:”uhh nothing! I gotta go!!”
He quickly grabbed his belongings and was about to dash out of the classroom when Lancer stopped him!
Lancer:”Pride and Prejudice Mr Fenton! Where do you think you’re going!”
Dan:”out!It’s umm an emergency!”
He pushed past Lancer and rushed out the door into the mens toilet.
Mr Lancer:”must be some powerful bowels…poor boy.”
He simply shrugged and returned to his lecture.
Dan:”What the hell was that blue smoke just then? That can’t be normal!”
Then without warning it happened again.
Dan:”What is that!!”
????:that's death's calling card!
Dan turns around and sees a green octopus-like ghost with 6 tentacles and glowing red eyes staring right at him.Without hesitating he turned into his ghost form and prepared to engage the strange beast.
Dan:”What are you? Some kind of Ectoplasm Octopus? Ectopus?”
Without further words ectopus swung his tentacles at him knocking him back into the hallway.Dan who was shaken from the last attack delivered a vicious right kick at the ghost knocking it into the wall, but that wasn't enough to defeat it and the ghost immediately recovered it launched all 6 of its tentacles at him, which Dan proceeded to dodge effortlessly.As he closes the distance between them he delivered countless rapid punches disorienting the ghost but eventually it regained its composure they started trading punches at each other,fist for fist blow for blow with neither of them wavering even the slightest, however Ectopus gains the upper had and knocks Dan into a nearby wall, Dan got up and rushed towards the ghost only to see that the ghost had taken a female student who was on her way to class as a hostage. She tried to scream for help but the ghost immediately wrapped his tentacle around her throat.
Dan:”Let her go!!”
Ectopus:”like hell I will! Your move ghost boy,one wrong move and I’ll suffocate her!”
Dan:”alright fine,you win!”
Dan put his hands up in surrender but just as he did a beam of energy left his hands and zapped the ghost splattering it all over the students body.
Dan:”That was awesome!!”
He glances at his hands.
Dan:”How'd I do that?”
The female student, who was extremely annoyed at what just happened walked up to Danny and began waving an accusing finger at him.
????:”You freak!!Look what you did to me!!”
Dan:”You mean save you??”
????:”Is this your idea of a save!?You ghosts are all alike,all you do is make a mess out of things!!!”
Dan:”You’re welcome by the way.”
????:”eughhh!!”
Without any further words she stormed out. Dan, who was just extremely tired from the whole encounter, quickly changed back and went to the mess hall Where he collapsed onto the table.
Tucker and Sam arrived in the cafeteria moments later and were both puzzled to see Dan completely passed out on a nearby table.Sam took a seat next to him and attempted to wake up but Dan wouldn’t budge.
Sam:”damn he’s really passed out!Is this normal?”
Tucker chuckled.
Tucker:”Way More normal than you'd think..”
He grabbed Dan by his shoulders and slapped him a couple times before he finally jolted awake completely disoriented from his nap.
Dan:”yeah...yeah I’m up!”
Sam:”Hey Sleeping Beauty, glad you could join us.”
She flashed him a mocking smile but unfortunately for her Dan was too dazed to notice.
Dan:”Hey,err Sam! What are you doing here?”
Tucker:”She got worried when you left in such a rush so she offered to help me look for you..”
Dan:”err well thanks!”
Sam:”don’t mention it. So what happened back there anyway?”
Dan turned to Tucker and gave him a look that somehow managed to explain the entire situation that happened.Tucker simply nodded in response Then they both returned their attention back to Sam before she could notice.
Dan:”It was nothing..”
His obvious lie wasn’t good enough to fool her and only served to make the girl even more curious.She leaned in closer and gave the boy a look so stern even the box ghost would budge.
Sam:”didn’t seem like nothing,seemed like a pretty big deal.
Immediately Dan snapped.
Dan:”Well it wasn’t alright! Why do you even care anyway, you don’t even know me!”
The skeptical goth girl simply leans back in her chair and smiles.
Sam:”Calm down, I was just teasing!.”
She flashes them both a devious smile causing a blush to spread across Dan's face.
Dan:”oh…yeah totally ... .my bad.”
She lets out a soft laugh.
Sam:”It was funny as hell when you bolted past Lancer tho,you should’ve seen the look on his face.”
Tucker:”yeah it was actually really funny!”
The trio shared a laugh together before Sam got up.
Sam:”Well this has been fun but I need to go,But hey we should all hang out again sometime!”
Dan:”Sure!”
And with a final wave goodbye she left.
Tucker:”She seems interesting…... and she’s cute!”
He playfully punches Dan's arms while offering him a sly grin.
Tucker:”Not bad bro!”
Dan's face flashed red at Tucker’s comment.
Dan:”uh wha-what? It’s not like that!!”
Tucker:”surreeeeeee it isn’t. Like you totally didn’t notice how cute that goth chic was?”
Dan:”I didn’t…”
Tucker:”So what you’re saying is that if I had access to her phone number which I do, you wouldn’t want it?”
Dan:”how’d you get her number?”
Tucker:”she wanted the 3 of us to hang out”
He hands Dan a folded piece of paper with some numbers on it.Unable to contain his embarrassment anymore Dan quickly accepts the number and buries his face into the table and pulls his hood over it.
Dan:”you're never gonna let me live this down huh?”
Tucker:”afraid not..”
To be continued..
Chapter 1 Chapter 2
Thanks for reading ☺️ hope you guys still fuck with it cuz I'll write as long as you're willing to read
We finally got sam here so the plot can only go up from here...i hope😅

#danny phantom#going ghost#go ghost again#danny fenton#dp fanart#sam manson#dp fanfiction#dp fanfic#dp fandom#creative writing#wip
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PLAGG AND TIKKI CONVO: Happens right after the events of the London Special are fixed and Marinette and the Kwami can go back to sleep.
Plagg could be called a lot of things; A loose canon, childish, mean, chaotic..all of those things that would be expected from a god of destruction.
But what he wasn't was disloyal. Never in all his years of having holders did he once thing of abandoning them..leaving them in the dust as soon as he got the chance- in fact he was happy to form bonds with his holders..meant they'd wield his power more efficiently, meant theyd have someone in their corner if no one else was.
This didn't change when he met Adrien, not even a little bit..because he was the youngest holder hes had, the kindest soul to own the ring- Plagg was his and he was Plaggs and he cared for the kid more than he cared to admit. Maybe thats why it hurt him everytime Adrien felt as if Chat wasn't needed or wanted..it devasted him to see his holder so defeated- so upset that he'd willingly give up the one freedom he had.
Plagg hated seeing him like that..maybe the breaking point was something he deemed as the..Cat Walker incident. He regretted encouraging Adrien to act like anyone but himself but..it was the only way he'd get the kid to willingly take the miraculous back..it was no surprise Ladybug was so head over heels for that version- completely fumbling at every turn because she loved Adrien..well, loved the perfecr version anyways.
That left a nasty taste in the kwamis mouth whenever he came to that conclusion- like processed cheese it left his face scrunching..didnt like it one little bit, but he'd keep them to himself- he could offer Marinette some grace..she was the same age as his holder after all, he could swallow down his annoyance whenever she brushed off Chat just to head out a kwami like a cheese on a fire sale..he could brush past her fumbling over herself whenever she put Adrien on this pedastal that showed she liked him as he was on the commercials..maybe there was something more to her feelings, maybe she did geniunely love his holder- maybe he was beginning to see that, so he never opened his mouth.
Which is why it was so staggering..so confusing when Ladybug broke his and Tikkis unification in order to give Gabriel Agreste the benefit of doubt- after everything, after that man constantly dismissed and brushed off Adriens feelings until only recently- he couldn't yell fast enough.
“No! Don't trust him!”
Plagg near shrieked in objection just as he was pulled from the ring because no matter the sob story that Gabriel uttered out, he was still the same man that neglected his holder..still the same man thay terrorized all of Paris and the kwami- his friends.
And Ladybug let her guard slip, allowed him to make that wish.
Ladybug found out Adriens father was Hawkmoth or Monarch..whatever name thag fiend gave himself, she found out..and she agreed to lie to Adrien about it- agreed to keep him in the dark.
Plagg could only flash back to Cat Walker..could only think back to the times Adrien wanted to give him up because he was kept in the dark one too many times and this was way worse than that- Ladybug was agreeing to lie about his father..lie to all of Paris and claim Gabriel as a hero..the same man that refused to spend time with Adrien until he was practically on his death bed.
She and Natalie couldn't say they loved Adrien more than Gabriel after this.
They just couldn't!
“Sugar cube..this isn't right.”
Plaggs mumble was uncharacteristically quiet- staring down at the black ring on Marinettes desk, his whiskers twitching. The young girl was fast asleep along side the other kwami but him and Tikki remained wide awake. “I..know but-”
Bright green eyes quickly flicked towards Tikki who seemed just as perplexed as him, “But? But what? Adriens dad is-was- Hawkmoth! And we're gonna just lie? This..this has bad idea written all over it!” He exclaimed, his little arms flailing as he gestured around.
“This is hard for Marinette but shes trying to do what she thinks is right..its a really hard choice.”
Tikki's response caused him to huff pointedly- eyes squinting.
“You know this decision sucks worse than..than Casu Marzu!- Dont give me that look, trust me, that cheese is super bad! Believe me!” Plagg exclaimed- only to quickly quiet himself down when he realized it wasn't just the two of them in a secluded area but an entire room full of Kwami and one sleeping girl. Tikki on the other hand just gave him a sideways glance..buzzing around- even after all these centuries of being by her side he still found it hard to read her thoughts every now and again but he knew she was just as conflicted but..like him, she was protective and loyal to her holder.
“Well even if it..sucks like whatever that is, Marinette made the call..and its not our job to overstep. Trust me, it'll only do more good to tell him.”
“And what if he finds out from someone else?”
“Who?”
“I dunno! Ladybugs been super careless lately!”
“Watch it.”
Bright green eyes narrowed into slits upon hearing Tikkis warning tone which just caused Plagg to scoff in response..small arms crossing over his chest as he glanced around. “Adrien must be confused..angry, upset..and..and alone.” He mumbled, voice dropping low as his ears slowly flattened to his round head.
“I can't let him be lied to like this..not after almost losing him so many times. This? If the kid found out by some third party..he'd- well I can't even say what'll happen cuz thats not a future I wanna live through, its not right.” Plagg continued, putting emphasize on the last word..he knew Marinette loved Adrien, that was obvious but..she didn't love him enough to break the news and maybe the course of action he was planning on taking would only complicate things further but his holder came first and he'd do his best to enforce that.
“..Im gonna tell him.”
Plagg stated- voice far more level and firm than usual..steadfast in his decision and he watched as the red and black polka dotted kwami whirled on him in shock. “You can't-!”
Her shrill shriek caused a small chorus of 'Shhh's to be mumbled from various corners in the pink room while Marinette just mumbled in protest to herself on her bed above them..the mattress creaking as she turned over.
Tikki froze for a moment, blinking repeatedly before in a quieter tone, she spoke; “You can't tell Adrien about another holders identity.” She hissed out which just caused him to huff, rolling his eyes.
“Well duh! I can't say a name..but I can say exactly what happened. If Marinette won't, I will.” The black kwami stated, “You didn't see how that guy treated the kid..always brushing him off as if hes some expired, processed cheese! Him and that assistant of his..they kept Nooroo and Dusuu for who knows how long, using them to terrorize Paris. They never put his needs before their own..especially Gabriel..I..”
This is probably the most serious Plagg has spoken in ages and by all the gods did he hate it but the mistreatment of his holder had him fired up! Tikkis brow furrowed as she watched him but Plagg paid no heed as he continued.
“If I don't tell Adrien..and he ever found out by some other person who won't bother giving him a shoulder to cry on..I don't think he'll be move on from that.” He continued with a solemn shake of his head.
“Thats if he ever found out! You could..what if this wreck the balance of our holders?” Tikki pressed, gesturing towards Marinettes sleeping form.
“The balance as been wrecked for a while, sugar cube.” He stated, floating towards ring that sat on Marinettes desk, scooping it up in his tiny paws as he lifted it from the wooden surface while Tikki just watched with growing frustration.
“Im telling him and if you or Marinette try and stop me, Ill be on you like holes in swiss cheese.”
His statement was final- he wasn't backing down from this and Tikki could only scowl..he knew she wasn't exactly mad at him after he wasn't exhibiting new behavior, but he knew this situation wasn't any easier on her either..even so, he didn't waver.
“If you do this..youll divide them like never before.” Tikki pointed out as if it was a warning and Plagg's ear just twitched in acknowledgement as he floated towards the sun roof.
“It won't be me that did it.”
Was the only sentence he uttered before he whisked away into the nighr- not bothering to give Marinette a farewell..he was sure Tikki would relay the message back to her anyway but he couldn't be worried that now.
He had a holder to reunit with.
#j.p speaks#miraculous ladybug#ml rewrite#ml critical#ml plagg#lowkey tikki x plagg cuz i fuck with the implication heavy#adrien deserves better#mlb fanfic#adrien agreste
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Replying with my side account dedicated to reblogs!
Firstly, another Crowley fan!!!! Yayyyy!
I totally agree about Pomefiore. No matter what, I feel people are gonna have a problem with them. I’m personally hoping he is your most average, maybe conventionally "unattractive" man ever. I need him to be the opposite of Vil. It would be amazing for Vil fr. But you’re so right. Cause that’s what the manga Yuus are: they’re just company owned OCs to deliver the story for us, and people having such a strict way of thinking about them… so strange for sure.
100% on the BL fans having a crossover with the "fem Yuu for Malleus!" fans. Everyone wants their ship dynamic to be canonized, but to demand it so aggressively is unfair to other fans who want the same thing. I’ve noticed this behavior in a lot of shoujo harem fandoms, too. What’s funny is these guys definitely run in the same circles as the "Yuu has to be a man because it’s a boys school" crowd. Opposite thoughts, but going about it in the same way.
It’s hard to find queer stories sometimes, especially in fandoms filled with mostly women. It’s always disheartening to be turned away like that. And the self-insert fics issue is so real! I have gotten to a point where unfortunately even silly fanfics cause me dysphoria sometimes. I’ll be so excited to read a story, and then I’m slapped in the face with feminine features. Def not a fun time when I’m sad and wanting to read a fanfic to cheer me up 🥲
Same about Harveston! The moments where they just acknowledge something like that as so NORMAL. It makes me so happy! I wish I lived in Twst fr <3 They don’t make a big deal out of things like that. Even the more masculine characters tend to be more freely expressing themselves. For example, in Vil’s Halloween vignette, even Floyd, who I’d consider one of the more masculine characters, was excited about learning to do makeup better! It was just a normal thing and it’s refreshing to see.
Yeah, same here! I’m glad you liked my ramble! I loved yours, too! I’m glad that most of the fandom seems pretty chill and open to anything, but like in any fandom, there’s that loud minority trying to sour everything haha.
Ahh these are the sort of topics I don’t know how to word well in English , so forgive me if I have roundabout explanations for things 😆 this is a bit of a vent, I apologize again for any mistaken words on anything 💦
But I guess I’m just a little disheartened by the EN fandom- particularly with the whole manga Yuu situation. I adore all the Yuu’s, I love all the Yuu OCs that this amazing and creative fandom has designed.
But I’m seeing an…over exaggeration? Or pedestal put onto the Scarabia Yuu, Yuuna Oujou, and the way some people have discussed the manga Yuu’s have made me a little uncomfortable.
I’ve seen some people be like “finally! A girl Yuu for the manga!” Or “finally! A Yuu who presents herself as a woman!” (This is way different than a celebration of a femme Yuu btw).
? Yuuka, the Savanaclaw Yuu, IS a woman. Some people have been claiming that she’s “hiding her gender” in the all-boy’s school, or “downplaying” her gender, and how they’re so happy that Yuuna is “unapologetically a woman.”

But Yuuka, even in her previous world, has ways presented as a bit more masc- a very bifauxnen, cool girl type of character who is resolute in her strength because of her judo experience. A translation of the manga I read even has her referring to herself as a “ordinary school girl.” It’s just her own personal style of presenting herself. She also exercises in a sports bra! The only troubles she has is the troubles ALL Yuu’s have: that they’re magicless and aren’t meant to be here at this school and this WORLD.
And frankly, it’s uncomfortable that I’ve seen so many people in the fandom act as if feminine style is the only valid way to present as a woman, the implications that Yuuka is not a woman from the way she chooses to dress or cut her hair.
I’m so so happy that people find joy in a very femme presenting Yuu- I love Yuuna just as much! But when the conversation begins turning into…implying femininity is the only way to be/present as a woman, that’s not…it just feels awful. Yuuka was our first girl Yuu, Yuuna is the second. They present differently, but neither of them ever once worry about having the “hide” their gender. Please celebrate Yuuna’s style if that’s what you mean, instead of the “true girl” Yuu.
And on another note, there is the very popular and so far very likely theory of a “boy-girl” pattern in the manga Yuu’s- especially since all the Yuu’s so far have been the opposite gender as the Disney villains of each dorm. Meaning, the theory is that a male Yuu is likely for Diasomnia.
And I’m seeing a very vocal crowd dismissing the idea of male Yuu in the Diasomnia arc, that they want a girl, they’d hate a male Yuu, “Malleus forgot it’s not an Otome so it has to be a girl Yuu!”, they want a girl to be with Malleus “because [we] want Malleyuu.”
And again. It just feels so…alienating. Malleus and Malleyuu personally isn’t for me, but I’ve spent many years hopping around Otome and romance games in the past, and male and NB fans of these genres are frequently told that they don’t belong in the fandom, that these games cater to women.
But most conversations bringing up the possibility of romance games bringing in he/him, they/them or even customizable pronouns for the player are often shut down in most community spaces. Games like TWST, with an ambiguous MC and individual interactions with a character of your choice (ie the home screen voicelines)- or even games like Obey Me or the Arcana, are a rarity have made me really happy and feel really comfortable in the fandoms. Even if the game’s audience is mostly women, the MC/Yuu has *always* had an open identity.
So…the concept that Malleyuu is only WANTED by a portion of the fandom ONLY it’s a girl Yuu just brings back those same feelings again. Of course you may have whatever Yuu you want in your own personal Malleyuu ship!! But one girl Yuu can never represent the whole fandom, one male Yuu can never represent the whole fandom. So it’s strange there’s this complete outcry at the idea of a boy, and in turn of non-het Malleyuu ships in the fandom.
The manga and the Yuu’s have never shown a romantic relationship towards any character- any fanservicey moments still remain from the game, no matter the Yuu it’s aimed towards. And not just from Housewardens- all the characters have their bits of fanservice! But it never goes farther than that in the main story especially.
With the reveal of Yuuna, the EN fandom has been celebrating the diversity and openmindness of the world of twst, and how customizable your Yuu’s truly are. Yuu is…you! Yuu can be whoever you want. But it all falls apart when a portion of the fandom see Yuuna as the only valid girl Yuu, when the mere idea of a male Yuu for Diasomnia or for Malleyuu is bashed and hated.
Or you know what- the idea of male or even NB Yuu is bashed entirely every single time there’s a damn announcement for the manga. A while back, the Scarabia manga announcements were mistranslated in English, and the gender ambiguous language for Yuu was accidental turned into he/him (which turned out to be Yuuna). And the level of vitriol I saw over the idea of a male Yuu was so fucking disheartening. And now it’s happening all over again with a future Diasomnia manga.
Is the manga and their Yuu’s really a celebration of diversity in the EN fandom? It doesn’t feel that way, at all. Perhaps I’m just being self centered about this, but I’ve found myself increasingly upset about how vocal these two issues have been, and I wish some people could be more mindful about it
Apologies for my incoherency in this vent 💦💦💦💦💦 this is NOT hate toward Malleyuu or Yuuna fans as a whole- or towards anyone in fact. This is just a vent and a slight critique just certain parts of the fan bas
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today my nephew asked me what an mp3 reader is I finally understand my elders
#stuff like this happens all the time#every time we talk i realise that we're growing up in two completely different times#also he moves through apps#every time i mention something a website or some other thing you can find online#he asks what app is that#and I'm like baby no#the world is not made of apps#apps in the way they exist today are younger than you#or all the streaming platforms#i looked for a (definitly legal) movie in front of him the other day and i played it to check the quality#because him and his mom wanted to watch it and couldn't find it#and all he said was On what platform did you find it#i was like I'm gonna tell you a story#✨the story of internet in the early 2000✨#listen we grew up with internet meaning that the internet has grown with us which means that we know it#we know how to be safe on it we know what to do and what not to do we understand when something is real and when something is not#the problem with all these new generations is that yes they know how to use a phone since year one but in reality they have no idea about#the internet they have no idea about what they hold in their hands they have no idea about what they can do with it#what the hell they don't even know how to access the internet#they don't know websites they don't know every app is actually a website#the same nephew once turned on a computer and was so lost and disappointed he asked me#is there YouTube on this thing?#my child! you have the world at your hands and you're asking me if there is youtube in it#and yes of course he's a child he need to be thought stuff abd you're right#but also not if it makes sense#at least in my experience i was left completely alone on the internet and yes i was probably watched at a distance from my older siblings#but i was given the space and time to explore it at some point i had my very own computer i was on socials at a very young age#most of the people my own age where#and we were way more responsible with it#idk where am i going with this i don't really have a point
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Mike johnson has so god damn much blood on his hands, obviously Ukrainian blood, but also plenty of American blood
Refusing to renew something that helps vets exposed to atomic blast and Americans who were downwind of the fall out... it's just sick. I can't fucking stand mike johnson, he's one of the worst scum to ever be in congress, and that's fucking saying something
"Johnson refused to allow House members to vote on bipartisan legislation to renew and improve the program"
Fucking quivering little pimple seems to have a real MO for just wringing his hands while insisting it's not his fault, he just can't do the one fucking part of his job of putting shit up to a vote... oh boo hoo, so sad, he'll just have to unilaterally let funding expire on things instead of literally just putting it up to our elected representatives to see if they want to vote yay or nay
Single handedly make the choices but it's not his fault when they work out how they do
Murderer
#I'm sorry; I both genuinely hate the man and will never forgive him; so seeing this just adds more fuel to that fire#and I'm also genuinely pissed to hear that we aren't gonna be bothering to fucking help out people we fucked over#it's fucking sick#listen; I try not to talk politics too much and I try not to tell people how to vote cause it's not really my business#and cause I don't like arguing with people on tumblr; waste of my time#but for all the dems many many many many many fucking flaws; it's shit like this that makes me hate the gop#every last line about sticking up for rural or poor people or whatever is such a fucking lie#god bless our troops... unless it would cost money to compensate them for making them stand near atomic detonations#at every turn I see fucking simple easy decent bipartisan policy shot down but fuckers like johnson; who is the gop at this point#fuck em; can't stand em#go fucking vote if you can in whatever country you're in; try and get a mail in ballot for your sake#I'm still not gonna tell you how to vote but uh... maybe keep in mind when someone's hands are fucking caked in blood#and keep in mind what kind of company people keep in their political party#fucking murder#cause inaction is murder as sure as if he stood their and kept them from getting treatment directly#removing the funding to let these people get cancers and stuff operated on#it's the same as murder#and again; that's not even going back to him personally; like literally it was just him and him alone#holding up aid to Ukraine for months because he refused to put it to the floor#where... oh look... once it was put to the floor it passed just fine (with a fucking tiktok ban added)#(hate that site but I hate government overreach with this kinda shit more)#one of the few people in this world I think I actually truly hate#I'm never gonna fucking stomach the 'he was so brave for holding a vote' shit lie#bullshit; if he had a spine or a soul he would have brought Ukraine aid to the floor before funding ran out#just like if he had a spine or a soul he'd have brought this radiation victim funding to the floor before it ran out#almost like there's a fucking pattern here of him squirming like a pus filled pimple simpering about how he just can't do his job#can't do the one fucking thing he's supposed to do and bring shit to the floor for a vote#I have more opinions on him; but if I said how I really feel right now I think it would get me put on a list#and... sadly just cause of who I am; if I were in a room alone with him I think I'd just lay into him instead of beating his ass#but he's a fucking monster and reading this story just now... I'm almost seeing red with how much it's pissing me off
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at this point i just dont know how dreaming works
#snap chats#this sounds depressing as hell no its not im just CONFUSED#i posted bout daigo and mine for like. months everyday 24/7#and in that time ive had one Utterly Peculiar dream with daigo in it but like. on a technicality#and ive never had a dream with mine yeah. probably for the better#but i swear last night i had a dream where i was watching something with tsutsumi and nakai in it#make it make sense brain. do you know ill be mentally unwell if i see daigo or mine in my dreams.#trying so hard to remember what it was but its been lost to the subconscious#im gonna blame it partially on me having read those arasawa fics right before bed#i mean it was objectively not arakawa and jo in my dream but yk. same face#i just wanna remember what it was even about... mightve been a comedy of sorts...#OH YEAH SINCE I MENTIONED THOSE FICS im gonna throw up they were great#ooohhh i love sad/tragic fics oooh the guilt on both sides was so real and potent#im gonna think of jo helping masato walk until i die#the vision of jo in the rain with masato’s burned in my brain actually i might. draw it if you will#but im going to the mall in a hot hour so. hm. we’ll see#maybe i’ll do it before i leave for the mall... shouldnt take long...#not unless i also wanna include a shot of arakawa and turn this into a two-panel comic ig....#IDK POINT IS everyone should read those fics. both sides theyre so good#there is no happy thought and if there is its incredibly fleeting and im injecting it right into my veins#these tags are damn everywhere but i treat tumblr like a Blog blog so im updatinng everyone on everything#plus its related ok. im valid.#alright im gonna snake to my computer and crank out that drawing then#mall wont open for another two hours anyway and i dont wanna be a mout breather standin at the door as it opens so
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Round of applause for Alex, I’m going to bed before 1am 👏👏👏👏
#well after I put on my pyjama it will probably be 1am but that’s still great for me jcndjdnd#will I fell asleep before 4 am though ? still have to found out 🤪#please wish me luck im’ exhausted my body is in ruin#also please send someone to beat up my neighbours if they start playing their music before 11am#cause they are capable of doing so and you are all probably aware of how loud they fucking are I said it enough time 😭#i hate them so much#they probably gonna make me up at 11 like all day this week cause idk what they are doing but it’s like they are dropping a bowling ball#every 5 minute in the room above me I’m tired#you probably think i exaggerate but I’m not i never met anyone as loud as they are I can’t even believe it myself#my dad had enough and left a note on their door translated cause they woke up my mom at like 6-7am the same way to the point she yelled and#hit the ceiling which we never done cause we don’t want problems we want peace 😭#but if they still continue to be as loud it’s gonna be a call to the landlord cause the neighbour above them is also tired of the music#and if we call the landlord they will be force to move out cause it’s their 3rd warning since they moved here 😅#and they only moved her in like April ??? pretty sure the previous one moved in April idk but I miss him so much I want him back 💔#anyway Goodnight it’s gonna turn 1 am in 5 minutes love y’all 💓#well fast edit they are doing right what they are doing on the morning so I don’t think I’ll be sleeping for a while unless the fact#that I’m exhausted take control of my body 🤪#I jumped 3 times in 5 minutes 🤪#alex.txt
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roommate's partially blind(?) female turtle keeps doing this today to elevate her basking game



#it's possible it's a mating thing but they're both very young and again she's female so. less likely to me than#that she was like 'oh sweet more rock im gonna be so tall' but im also not a turtle expert#note: this turns into a rant about these turtles' conditions like 4 tags in#ive never seen her do this before#also don't blame me for the tub setup roomie straight up Does Not Know what she's doing at all#im trying to nudge her into like. proper care and stuff right. and trying to make sure they don't die#and with some things it's more an issue of being able to get the proper supplies rather than not knowing#but i told her to get a bulb that. yk. actually gives off heat (again) and gave her an approximate wattage yesterday#and i found out today that she was planning on getting a regular light bulb witt that wattage#i had to explain to her that heat bulbs exist and you shouldn't like. pick a bulb not designed for heating To Heat just bc it has the same#wattage. head in my hands i want to keep this lighthearted but it's kind of extremely distressing to me tbqh#did she not research at all before getting them?? she's had them for at least a year how has she not wondered why her turtle's eyes don't#open??? etc???? and she just lets them chill in an open tupperware and though she chastises rascal for swatting at them#she's gone like 18 hours of the day so it's not like she's there to stop him#guhh my point is if she had these time/financial restraints beforehand it was really irresponsible to get all these pets#and then not fucking take care of them!!! if you can't get them incredibly basic necessities then hold off on taking on the responsibility#of another creature's life!!!!!!! thank you!!!!!!!!!!!#ugh i know firsthand how depression can fuck with pet care in some ugly ways but she Keeps getting pets#this was a three time mistake not a one time mistake and she seems so unbotherwd#and she's fine with dealing with the problems she just Does Not Notice Them because (afaict) she's just not paying attention or wondering#but i don't know?!!! i don't know. very conflicted feelings about my roommate to be honest#i was terrified to learn that she would be my roommate and im very Not Cool with the animal neglect thing#nor the fact that she's apparently cheating on her bf (she blames him ofc) but idek what to do or say about that#but she's also very friendly? it's a really weird dynamic. we're on good terms but i wouldn't call her a good person#arghhhh whatever. whatever. i have since moved top turtle (😐) off since i dunno if she could get down on her own#+ i dont want bottom turtle (😐😐) to shake her off. shell or not im not risking it
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it was too much i had to make my own post
line cook here. ACCURATE
if you don't get the hate, here's what you don't understand.
it takes up to 2 hours to close down the kitchen.
The last 60-90 minutes before closing time you do almost no cooking because the restaurant doesn't have many people in it and you've already cooked most of their diners.
So if someone walks in during, like, the last hour, the cook is in the middle of an industrial deep clean of the kitchen.
(these numbers can vary quite a bit from place to place but i have worked several restaurants with these actual times and the concept remains the same)
Say the place closes at 10. If you wait til the restaurant is already closed to start all your cleaning duties, you'll be there until at least midnight.
More than that your boss knows that on an average night you can start your clean up as soon as the last rush ends and get out of there around 10:45, even 10:15 on a slow night if you get lucky. That means there are plenty of restaurants where if you do take until midnight the manager is going to come up to you at some point that week and ask you what went wrong that night, and you'd better have an answer.
So this example restaurant closes at 10 pm. The dinner rush ends around 8:30, and shortly after that the cook is going to start getting every single dish possible over to the dishwasher because the dishwasher always gets hit hard and late, and the machine runs for 2 full minutes and only holds so many dishes, so the way that works out is if you wait an extra 30 minutes to give the dishwasher all your stuff it can mean adding like 60 minutes to the end of his shift. And you're gonna KEEP finding shit to send to the dishpit right up until you leave probably.
all these little square and rectangle containers in this cold table have to be pulled out and changed over into new containers, replaced by new full ones, or in some cases filled from larger containers in the back, which can result in even more empty containers to send to the dishwasher.
while it's all pulled apart to do this, you have to clean up all the spilled food and sauce and juices and stuff from the joints and ledges and shelves and drip trays
Once you get your line changed over in this way, and fully stocked, anytime someone orders something that makes use of a bunch of that stuff, you have to restock and re-clean it some. It might already be covered in plastic. Some of it might already be stuck in the back to make room to take apart your cutting board counter to clean. To cook a dish isn't TOO much of a problem at this point, but you're really hoping for zero orders because you still have so much other cleaning to do.
Meanwhile the salad bar and appetizer section and server station and everybody are all doing the same thing. Even the bartenders are stocking olives and lemons and sending back whisks and stir spoons and shakers and empty 4quart storage containers that used to hold the back-up lemons and olives and things. Every section is dumping their must-be-cleaneds to the dishpit as fast as possible because early and fast is the only thing they can do to to help that dishpit not absolutely drown into overtime.
The poor dishwasher is always the last to clock out, soaking wet and exhausted.
Around this time you probably scrub the flat top, which has turned black from cooked on grease and is still about 500 degrees. Line cooks are divided in opinion on water-based or oil based cleaning methods for this, but they all involve scrubbing with (usually) a brick of pumice stone using every ounce of your strength while you try not to burn yourself
you scrub it from fully blackened to gleaming silver and now if somebody orders something that needs the flat top to cook, you can either fuck up your cleaning job or fake it in a couple frying pans and pass that tiny fuck you down to your dishwasher (who usually understands, especially if you help them take the garbage out or clean your own floor drain later)
If there's deep fried stuff on the menu then the fryers have to be cleaned out, which includes straining the oil out into enormous and super-heavy pots full of oil so hot that if you spill on yourself then it's probably a hospital visit and if you slip and fall face first into it it'll be the last thing you ever do.
Then you gotta scrub out the fryer. Like you gotta take the (hot) screen out and reach your arm down into the weird rounded pipes and curved areas (so hot, burn you if you brush against them hot) and scrub off whatever is down there
Depending on your kitchen you might have to do up to four of these. Then you'll have to pour the (dangerously hot) oil back in
oh, and if you didn't dry the pipes and get ALL the water out of the trap and tank?
water reacts with hot oil in a sort of mentos and coke way that can send a tidal wave of oil past the open flame of the pilot light ...HUGE dangerous mess and/or burn down the kitchen if the oil lights up.
Unless! If the oil has been used too hard and needs to be changed, it's time to carry those open topped super heavy pots full of will-kill-you-hot oil and dump them in the barrel outside by the dumpsters so you can put room temp fresh oil in the fryers. whew!
The clean up is not just some light wiping down that can be easily interrupted, is what i'm saying.
You might have to do some kind of walk-in duty (moving around 50lb cases of lettuce and 50lb bags of onions to get to the stacks of five gallon buckets full of salad dressings and sauces to move so you can reach the giant metal pots and bus tubs full of prep and get it all organized and make sure it's all labeled and i have to stop now i'm having flashbacks)
THE POINT IS
by 15 or however many minutes to close, the line cook is doing an intense deep clean and probably has the whole stove taken apart to detail.
For some industrial stoves this means lifting off large cast iron plates that weigh like 20 lbs each and are still quite hot. Whatever metal burners are on there, you gotta take off and clean, you can see here the lines that indicate the large thick cast iron rectangles that sit on top of the burners to allow heavy pots to rest on. Those five (each has one front burner hole and one back burner hole, see?) have to be lifted off and cleaned with soap and a wire brush usually, and then the underneath area also has to be cleaned because a lot of shit falls through the burner holes on a busy night.
if you didn't do it when you did the flat top you have to do the grease trap (which can be like a full five minutes and is always disgusting).. You gotta clean out all the little gas jets in each burner with a wire or something so the burners all flame evenly, and sometimes you have to remove some of the natural gas piping that connects the burners to access where you have to clean.
you gotta clean out the bottom of the oven and the wire racks, and, oh gods, you gotta take down the filter vents from the hood fans above the stove.
See all the lined parts along the top of the wall?
those are hood vents, and as they pull air up they also pull a lot of grease and they have to be taken down and cleaned, then you gotta climb up there and scrub where they go before you put them back...
And then there's the mopping and floor drains and...
Anyway, that's what the line cook is doing when you walk in fifteen minutes before closing and order something that needs to be cooked on that stove. They are doing an entire industrial cleaning of a professional kitchen.
In some restaurants maybe one or two of these jobs will be every other night or even only twice a week, but in many, possibly most kitchens, ALL of these things happen EVERY night. You don't want to leave any food mess that might attract insects or rodents for one thing, so a really good kitchen is as close to brand new as you can get it every night.
IF YOU ABSOLUTELY HAVE TO ORDER SOMETHING ANYWAY, HERE IS WHAT TO DO
open with an apology and ask the server to go ask what the cook would prefer you to order.
Any good server will already know what the cook is hoping for and what will make their line cook go into the walk in and scream. If it's significantly less than an hour to close and they say some variant of "oh anything is fine" they are either telling the lie their boss wants them to say, or they actually do not know what their line cook wants, and you can either use human connection and a conspiratorial just-between-us tone to get them to drop the customer-is-always-right act, or get them to actually go ask the cook.
It might be as specific as "the lasagna is easiest on the kitchen" or it might be a simple guideline like "nothing that requires the flat top" or "any of the sautés are easy" but a good line cook will probably have a system for if they have to make a couple of the most popular items after they start their close, so the answer is likely to include something most people like and you should be good to order that.
but for the love of all that's holy, please only do so at great need. Leave that last 30-60 minutes to the truly desperate and the crew's duties.
#long post#sorry#i just have a lot of DO PEOPLE UNDERSTAND feelings left over from all my years in restaurants#restaurants#line cook#service industry
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