#but you can ship them as much as you want

[mindovermuses]

Dear Critical Role Production Team,

You are sitting on a veritable GOLD MINE of content that should be part of your Beacon exclusive lineup, like yesterday.

After a pretty much perfect 4-Sided Dive, starring ultimate fangirls and voices of so many in the fandom- Aabria Iyengar & Aimee Carrero- the gears started slowly churning away in my head.

Give these ladies a monthly podcast! Call it "Critical Tea" and, with the assistance of the beautiful and ever-present Dani Carr (filling in for Cadeucus as Tea Master), they can bring on various guests and gush about everything that drives the fandom wild. Bonus points if you have Cadeucus voice overs for tea related stuff.

Collect fan-submitted questions, theories, and art for the show. Give them a big conspiracy board with red yarn so they can discuss everything.

They can keep track of random things. Is Vax still an orb? How much party gold do they think Chetney actually still has in his possession? Campaign couple/shipping vibe checks using a different unit of rating each episode based on some joke earlier in the podcast. Bonus points if they pull two party members randomly from a tea kettle and rate their current opinions on the possible shipping between them.

Think of the merch possibilities. Representing the tea company you've licensed with, if they'd like to be a sponsor for specific episodes.

We need to spill the Critical Tea.

Throw a big old disclaimer about nothing in the show being canon, the ladies just want to gush about whatever moments in Critical Role history need fangirled over with whatever cast member, former guest star, or famous friend wants to join them at the couches for Critical Tea. Oh, and Omar cameos.

As proof of concept, please note the following, attached screenshots:

Yours faithfully,

-a fan

#Critical Tea Podcast #critical role #aabria iyengar #aimee carrero #dani carr

[ao3commentoftheday]

How many words is considered plagiarism?

I write for a small ship, and there's a new author (new to the ship but not to fanfic, they say) who not only takes inspiration from plots and headcanons of mine and other authors (which could be flattering for the writer and 'two cakes' for the reader actually) but plain reuses the exact same sentences. I am well aware that writers don't own words, but we're talking about full 10ish word long strings of text here. As I said, small ship, so all these 'similarities' stick out like a sore thumb. We never even saw this person commenting on our works. So, should WE say something? And how? It's a peaceful community, and I'd hate it if we broke that peace.

Generally speaking, plagiarism is directly copying something like 10% of another person's work and claiming it as your own. This is very much a ballpark figure and not a number that you can apply to all cases by running the word counts and doing the math. For example, with song lyrics, it's something like 2 or 3 lines.

Whatever the percentage might be in the cases you're talking about, they're very much feeling like plagiarism (rather than an homage, for example) and that's a really negative situation to find yourself in, especially when you want to keep the peace.

You have a handful of options for what to do, I think, and I'll leave it to you which one to choose.

Pretend it's not happening. Bite your tongue, grit your teeth, clench your fists and just be silently annoyed/frustrated/pissed. This will basically be your current situation, continued.

Block their works from showing up on your feed and mute their comments. The person may likely continue with what they're doing, but there won't be any fandom drama about it - at least not because of you. This way, you don't have to see them doing it.

Vague (or not-so-vague) post about it. The fandom is small and the author or a reader will likely be able to identify who you're talking about. Once the author is aware that you're calling them out, they might disappear from the fandom or it might start that drama trashfire you want to avoid. Less likely, they might edit their works and stick around.

Reach out to the author and accuse them of plagiarism one-on-one. This will probably have the same results as option 2, with the addition of maybe having screenshots of your conversation floating around your fandom.

Reach out to the author and welcome them to the fandom. Let them know that you're glad to see another writer for your small ship. Ask if they're new to AO3 and/or how long they've been writing fic. If they're new to fic or to AO3, you can let them know that they're creating an unfortunately bad first impression amongst the other authors. You can then help them navigate their new fandom waters. No fandom drama should result, and you'll get to keep an additional author for your small ship without the current frustrations. With this one, you really do want to go in with an empathizing mindset rather than a manipulative one, otherwise you'll end up screenshotted in drama like in option 4.

You can report their fic(s) to the Policy & Abuse team. PAC keeps all reports confidential, so the author would never know your name. If PAC investigates and decides it's not plagiarism after all, they'll let you know and the author will never know you sent in a report. If they decide it is plagiarism, they'll reach out to the author (still keeping your name out of it) and request that they edit their work to remove the plagiarism. The relevant fics would be hidden from view while the author edits them. If the author fails to edit them, PAC will delete them from the Archive. Whether this results in fandom drama will depend entirely on how the author reacts. Some people will make a public show about "false accusations" and others will quietly edit or delete their works. The quiet authors will likely end up leaving the fandom. The loud ones? Harder to say.

For more information on the PAC side of the plagiarism report (and how to write a report with all of the relevant info), I'll link two answers from PAC takeovers of the blog: answer 1 | answer 2

Are there any options anon has that I might have missed? What would you do in a situation like this?

#asks and answers #long post

[lukall705]

Can we make NOT romanticizing and normalizing Yandere and pretty much any type of toxic or unhealthy relationships a thing, i'm so tired of trying to find chuuya fics just to see "Yandere chuuya x reader!!" Shit come up, like no chuuya wouldn't rape and beat the shit out of me if i tried to break up with him.

its so annoying when a ship w two character is toxic and people just call it like "Toxic Yuri!!! 🥵🥵🥵🥵😍😍" like its a good thing and that its hot. I hate how 'normal' its become to have unhealthy relationships is, its not hot that your bf or gf doesn't let you have friends of the same gender, its not hot that they make you tell them where you are at all times and its not hot that they try to control your life.

Can we normalize calling out weirdos who post shit like "I want a gf who would lock me up in her basement" "Stalking him to make sure he isn't cheating or talking to any other girls" "Killing any girl that tries to come near him>w<!!!" You're admitting to wanting to commit crimes! Being a yandere isn't hot, kidnapping, murder, stalking ect isn't hot!

And i have a feeling this might also start an argument like the post i made about incest writers🤦‍♂️ i dont wanna see anyone even trying to excuse this type of shit

#bsd wan #bsd #bungo stray dogs #dazai x reader #chuuya #dazai osamu #chuuya nakahara #art #rant post #mini rant #luka's dumbass rants lol #personal rant #yandere #chuuya x reader #chuuya smut #dazai smut #bsd x reader smut #bsd anime #bsd dazai #bsd fanart #bsd smut #bsd chuuya #bsd fyodor #bsd art #genshin venti #genshin impact #genshin fanart #genshin x reader #genshin smut #genshin imagines

[russo-woso]

Goalscorer || Alessia Russo x reader x Ella Toone

Based on this request here.

Before you start reading, I just want to say that this fictional! Just because I’ve written this does not mean I ship them in real life.

Going to the World Cup was a dream come true.

The whole experience was going to be so special for you.

What made it even more exceptionally special was the fact you were doing it with your girlfriends, Ella and Alessia, by your side.

Ella and Alessia were your whole world.

You loved them with every ounce of your body and they loved you just as much.

The World Cup so far had been the best time of your life.

Playing alongside your girlfriends and some of your best friends made you realise just how lucky you are.

After winning all of the matches in the group stages and the round of 16, it was time to move onto the final stages.

The thought of playing Colombia scared you.

Not because they were a good team, but the pressure that came with the match was immense.

As a striker, you were one of the ones the team relied on to score.

Not only that, but due to being 23, you didn’t have a part in the starting eleven and unlike your girlfriends, you were used as a super sub.

Your job as a super sub was to come on when fresh legs were needed and try to change the scoreline.

The past few games, you’d come on for Alessia, adding a new energy to the match.

The night before the match, Alessia and Ella kept telling you that you were going to get your well deserved goal.

You’d been put down by the stress, and after a long day training, they’d set up a movie night so you could relax.

During the movies, although you had relaxed in someways, the thought of the match still played on your mind.

Without knowing, a tear escaped your eye and Alessia noticed straight away, pausing the movie to ask what was wrong.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” Alessia asked, worry clearly evident in her voice.

“Y/N/N, you can tell us anything.” Ella added, seeing the hesitation in your face.

“I’m scared. I’m scared for the match tomorrow.” You admitted and they both pulled you in for a hug.

“Love, you don’t have to be scared. You’re an incredible player. I have a feeling that you’ll get your first World Cup goal tomorrow.” Ella said, ending the final part with a smile on her face.

“Ella’s right, baby. And I agree, you’re going to get a goal tomorrow. End of now, you’re a great player, please don’t think you’re not.” Alessia stated, and you nodded against her chest.

“Now, what an earth is going on? Why is the wife pretending not to be the wife? I don’t get it.” Ella questioned, clearly confused with the movie.

You lifted your head off Alessia’s chest to look at her, watching her roll her eyes before quietly laughing with you.

———————

After warming up for the whole of the first half, Sarina told you that you’d be coming on just after half time.

Nerves started to build up in your body, thoughts racing through your mind.

The thought of the score being 1-1 didn’t help your nerves either, but as soon as Ella pulled you onto her lap, they all disappeared.

Whilst sat on her lap during half time, Alessia came over and rested a hand on your back, rubbing it comfortingly.

“You ready to shine, love?” Ella asked, and you hummed in response.

“You’re gonna smash it, Y/N/N.” Alessia added, pressing a kiss to your head.

Alessia repeated them words just fifteen minutes later as she pulled you into a hug, before you ran onto the pitch.

You ran past a few of your teammates, giving them a high five as you ran into position.

The game continued and within five minutes, you were receiving a ball through.

Alex had sent the ball to Georgia who managed to slot it through to you, in the box.

Using your instincts, you were the first one on it, quickly slotting the ball into the back of the net perfectly.

Somehow, between shooting and receiving the ball, you had fallen over so your celebration was a bit delayed.

Jumping up, your teammates surrounded you, Ella being the first one to you.

She enveloped you in a hug before everyone took it in turns hugging and celebrating with you.

Running back to your starting position, you looked over to the bench to see a very proud looking Alessia.

Quickly blowing a kiss to her, you looked to your other side to see Ella smiling widely at you.

What felt like five minutes later, but was actually half an hour later, the final whistle blew and England was through to the semi finals.

Ella and Alessia went straight for you, both of them picking you up before placing a kiss on your lip.

After celebrating the win on the pitch, all three of you walked to the changing rooms together, quickly getting showered and changed before walking out to the team bus.

Since you were sat next to Alessia on the way to the stadium, you assumed you’d be sat next to Ella.

With your assumption, you took a seat next to Ella but was quickly pulled to sit next to Alessia by a certain blonde striker.

“She’s sitting next to me.” Ella told Alessia, guiding you to sit back in your original place.

“Yeah but I want her to sit next to me. I want to tell her how proud I am.” Alessia fought back, standing up to make you move seats.

“She sat next to you on the way here.” Ella added, her accent getting stronger the more they argued.

“She sat next to you on the way to the Nigeria match and on the way back.” Alessia pointed out, and Ella sighed, not really having any comebacks left to continue the argument.

You looked between the both of them, Ella having a saddened look, whereas Alessia had the complete opposite look, a big smile on her face.

“Come sit with me, baby.” Alessia patted the seat next to her, as you still debated on who you’d like to sit next to.

“No.” You stated, bluntly, causing a very confused look to form in Alessia’s face and a giggle to escape Ella’s mouth.

“See, she doesn’t want to sit next to you. She wants to sit next to me.” Ella continued to laugh at Alessia, also gesturing for you to sit in the seat to her.

“I don’t want to sit to either of you. Do you even think about me? And who I’d like to sit next to? And anyway, I’ve already agreed to sit next to Lauren so she can show me what Lego sets to buy. I’ll speak to you both later.” You told them and walked away, leaving a very speechless Alessia and Ella.

“That’s your fault.” You heard Ella say to Alessia.

“Toone, don’t you dare.” You snapped, turning around to see an angry looking Ella. As you turned back around, you heard Alessia laughing. “You too, Russo.”

With their ‘telling offs’, they were silent for the rest of the way back to the hotel.

When you entered the hotel, you decided to stay with Hempo so she could show you all the Lego sets she had built whilst being in Australia.

With your disappearance, Ella and Alessia searched the whole of the hotel, even making a search party, made of the whole team, to go looking for you.

After buying about seven Lego sets with the help of Lauren, you thanked her and left her room to walk to your shared room with your girlfriends.

What you didn’t expect to happen, was to almost get knocked out as soon as you left the room.

“Y/N, oh my god, baby you’re okay.” Alessia almost sobbed as she jumped on you, sending the two of you to the floor.

“Lessi, what’s wrong? Why are you crying?” You asked, panicked, thinking something had happened.

“You disappeared and we thought something bad had happened and I couldn’t stand the thought of you being angry at us.” Alessia explained, tears streaming down her face.

“Oh, baby.” You cooed, cradling her head against your chest. “I was with Lauren. She helped me buy some Lego sets because I didn’t know which ones to buy. And then she showed me her Lego sets. I’ve gone with ones that the three of us can build together.”

“Love, you’re okay.” A loud Manchester accent bounced off the walls of the hotel as a pair of arms wrapped around your body. “We were so worried. We’ve got the whole team looking for you.”

“What are you two like.” You playfully rolled your eyes at them.

“We’re so sorry, we shouldn’t have acted that immature. We should have let you decide and we know that now.” Ella apologised

“We really are sorry, baby. We were just so proud of you, but we took it too far and we’ve realised that. We promise we wont anymore.” Alessia added, and you pulled them both into a hug.

“And you two? Have you sorted it out between you both? You’re not angry at one another?” You questioned them and they nodded, before hugging each other, Alessia leaving a kiss on Ella’s cheek.

“Does that mean we can finally go to bed now?” Ella asked, yawning, as you and Alessia nodded in response.

———————

“Can you two please stop it!” You snapped for the one hundredth time whilst entering the room.

Everything had been going perfect, after not speaking for you for two hours and being clingy as ever, Alessia and Ella were desperate to talk to and cuddle you.

Once you’d gotten settled in bed, Alessia slung her arm around you and you laid your head on Ella’s chest.

You turned the tv on to watch a movie but you couldn’t help but notice Ella trying to move you closer to her.

You slapped her arm, silently telling her to stop, but once she tried to do again, and Alessia noticing too, hell broke loose.

Alessia and Ella kept arguing back and forth about who got to cuddle you.

You told them to stop several times but nothing was stopping them.

“I’m breaking up with you!” You shouted, and the room went silent, both of them wide eyed looking at you. “I’m kidding, but my god, that shut you up real quick. If you don’t want me to ever say them words, then I suggest you stop arguing over me. Alessia, you cuddle me tonight. Ella you get to cuddle me tomorrow night. That’s how it’s going to work from now on. Do you understand me?”

Taken aback, Alessia and Ella nodded, their eyes till wide.

“Good, now goodnight.”

The three of you settled, you cuddling into Alessia but still holding Ella’s hand so she didn’t feel lonely.

“We love you, our goalscorer.” Alessia whispered in your ear.

“I love the both of you too. Just not when you argue.”

“We promise we won’t anymore.” Ella said

“Hmm, that sounds familiar.”

Requests are open :)

#woso #woso community #woso x reader #woso imagine #womens football #woso fanfics #alessia russo #ella toone x reader #ella toone #alessia russo x reader

[rowanwithaz]

The perfect end is near?

MHA 424 spoilers

Those new leaks were literally fucking perfect,like??? Not just for shipping (I'll get to that) but just for a conclusion of the series.

Simple ending?

(First of all,I personally wanted Hori to kinda send the kids back to school,y'know,to see how they'd be after the fact how this war really changed their mindsets,but to also give them so time to just be a class. Those kids deserve to be kids just for a little bit).

To me this just proves even more so how Hori loves and enjoys his characters,he loves the world he's built for them,I think he wants to explore this further,and all the power to him! I know we want stories that are mind blowing every step of the way,but that's just not realistic and that's not really fun.

Hori,in my opinion,has made a heartbreaking and inspiring story,but I appreciate that he can dile it back a notch. I appreciate stories that can just roll with the simplicity. I feel people have this negative connotation of simplicity,that simple is automatically bad,which isn't true in the slightest.

I am a big fan of deep and meaningful stories,but I think one of the deepest turns you can take is to simplicity. These kids have been fighting non-stop and have been experiencing tragedy after tragedy,I want to see them recover. I want to see them comfort one another.

Let's not forget Hori has given us plot twits,death,war,grief...so if MHA goes back to how it was in the beginning,by being a little more simple,then I'm in full support for that.

(Just making this argument before the dudebros start talking shit! As for Shigaraki and AFO's ending,and the war,I've already done a pretty long analysis for those two,so I kinda see no point in repeating something since my feelings on it haven't changed)

The gay ending???

ALRIGHT. Let's get to the shipping portion of this post.

(Izuku trying to reassure him is so fucking sweet,oh my fucking God, he's like, "Oh,Kacchan don't cry everything's okay :D" whilst trying not to cry himself,and Izuku being shocked to see him cry? Like,bitch,this man has cried to you like two times before this,but at the same time he's never openly sobbed I guess)

Guys,we're going to get the quirkless hand hold. GUYS,WE'RE GOING TO GET THE QUIRKLESS HAND HOLD.

And Katsuki being vulnerable with Izuku once again? Honestly this whole chapter hasn't been some dkbk/bkdk crumbs,it's been a full-course dinner.

Now let's get to the most important part...

THIS. This is so telling of the future in a sense.

Katsuki and Izuku being brought together by All Might's words once again,which Hori fucking HINTED at,

Something tells me he was super excited to do this whole scene. With All Might,once again,bringing these two together,it makes me think of Togachako,especially with Ochako at the end here.

If Ochako is the one holding her stomach at the end,then we can assume that's where Toga stabbed her and she's thinking of her,while dkbk/bkdk are having their moment. This is extremely important.

I've said Izuku is kinda like Togachako's All Might,and I stand by that. Throughout this series,Ochako has been growing to become a hero,her own hero. And,Izuku has been one of her biggest inspirations,so much so,she feel in love with him. But,as things change,and Izuku has grown away from her,she's grown away from him.

What I'm saying is: Ochako has fallen out of love with Izuku. I've said this a million times,but I cannot stress it enough. Izuku has brought Ochako and Toga together though,that's for sure.

I mean,if we really take a look at their recent romantic moments,who has Ochako been thinking of?

and the rooftop scene?

people please stop trying to make this about Izuku. This is about Ochako finally realizing what kind of hero she wants to be,and that's why she falls out of love with Izuku.

Ochako wanted to save the heroes (Izuku) but in the process she found out she wants to save the villains (Toga). This is her story of becoming a hero,and falling out of love with Izuku. Izuku brought them together,their shared feelings for him made them realize their feelings for each other. Sound familiar?

Izuku's and Katsuki's shared feelings for All Might caused their feelings for each other to bloom,then their conflicting ideals made it to where they couldn't be together. Sound familiar?

(And let's not forget they had two fights,each one of them.)

And,Katsuki said something this chapter that made me think: "Oh,Togachako vibes!"

Remember when Ochako says she wants to give Toga her blood for the rest of her life?

Or the lyrics in the mha season 2 ending theme about Izuku's feelings for Kacchan?

Dudes,these mfs just wanna be together.

Those are just some of my thoughts one the ending,dkbk/bkdk,Togachako,and all that. I'm super fucking excited for the rest of this series though!

(Let's cross our fingers for a Deku Vs Kacchan part 3 but it ends with them making out???)

#Mha #Bnha #Bnha 424 spoilers #Mha 424 spoilers #Bkdk #Dkbk #GreeNade #tgchk #chktg #bloodbubbles #dekucchan #katsudeku #togachako #ochatoga #deku x kacchan #toga x ochako

[madlori]

If the only thing you can lord over buddie is that bucktommy is canon, then you really didn't care at all about the ship.

7 seasons of being a family unit, being there for each other, having each other's back but hey! Here comes another underdeveloped love interest, but since it's a man this time, you don't care about Buck being stuck in the same hamster wheel, again, because he's kissing a man and that's hot 🙄

Also for all your doom and gloom about buddie not happening, do remember that Tommy/Eddie was an idea in Tim's mind at first, so Eddie can be read as queer, even if it's not in canon yet.

I guess you don't place much value on them being a family unit and always there for each other, and having each other's back...all of which is still true and will continue to BE true. But it's only important to you as a prelude to them kissing, right? It has no value in and of itself. I love their relationship. I love what they are to each other. But YOU are making me not want to see it, because every time they turn to each other, lean on each other, support each other, we have to listen to you shrieking BUDDIE CANON CONFIRMED or whatever, because to a certain genre of shipper (not all buddie shippers, etc) any interaction or feeling they have with each other exists only in service to the ship.

I swear to god, I'm gonna banish the phrase "hamster wheel" from y'all's mouths until I get an actual definition as to what you think it means, because from where I sit, to you it just means "he's with someone who's not Eddie." To me, it means that Buck continually fell bass-ackwards into relationships that weren't right for him, looking for something he wasn't even sure what it was. And heyyyyy, he's currently in a relationship that he actively chose and fought for, having learned something new and important about himself, with someone who makes him giddy and excited in a way we have never seen him be, who the people around him can see gives him contentment. But none of that matters, because it's not Eddie, and that is by definition his only appropriate partner, so he must still be on that hamster wheel. Also if we're going by creator intent here, Tim's said he wrote this relationship specifically to reflect Buck being off of it.

As for underdeveloped love interest? I wrote an entire ass essay about how MUCH we know about Tommy, and it's reams compared to anything we've ever known about Buck's girlfriends OR Eddie's current girlfriend who does not even have a last name. Tommy has been introduced in a way that integrates him with the 118, with multiple interests, a character arc of his own from his first appearance, a set of motivations and emotional arcs that are NOT about Buck, and something to actually offer in a relationship besides existing. Anyone saying he's underdeveloped is determined to read him as such, especially for the limited amount of time we've had him.

And I never said Eddie couldn't be read as queer. He can EASILY be read as queer. I said he WOULDN'T be. Those are two different things. If Tommy and Eddie had gotten together (which I give no more narrative weight to than Maddie and Eddie getting together, which was also a gleam in the eye at one point) I'd equally be saying that Buck would never be queer.

It's hilarious to me that I'm being accused of liking a ship because it's hot (it is, and I do, and that's...fine? there's nothing bad about that?) as if people enjoy Buddie because of the amorphous purity of it all and not at ALL because it's hot (it is and you should say so).

If my thoughts about this are so upsetting to you, just block me, dude. I promise I won't take it personally.

Also, just...learn to enjoy a ship whether it's canon or not. I've done it, we've all done it. It's not that hard, especially THIS ship, which has so much good stuff to it regardless of whether there's romance or not. Those of us who like Buck with Tommy are not taking away from you enjoying Buddie, or anyone doing so. It's not like...the State of Buddie will lose congressional representation if the population falls below a certain level. The existence of another ship does not affect yours.

#9-1-1 #evan buckley #bucktommy #eddie diaz

[vivwritesfics]

If your taking requests could you write Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x reader

Rooster meeting a girl a few weeks before top gun and hooking up with her a few times (no actual smut)

And later on sees her in top gun and she is the first female pilot he meet (if possible for her callsign to be Chaos) and walking up to her before saying something like "you got me trained like a damn dog"

< based on this tiktok: https://vm.tiktok.com/ZGeaGGyMR/>

I am so sorry I've had this in my inbox for so fucking long, been trying to find a way to... write this, I suppose. I'll be honest, this turned out very different to the request but I couldn't find a way to make it this exact way. I hope you still like it!

They met eyes across The Hard Deck. It was both of their first times at Top Gun, that fundamental last night before they started.

(Now, I must note that this was before Penny bought The Hard Deck. It looked different to what it did when she and Bradley later returned for the uranium mine mission, but it still served the same purpose)

She sipped her drink and he sipped his beer, wiping the foam away from his moustache. Shit, he was hot. She watched as he whispered something to his wingman and approached.

If it had been the eighties, she would have lost that loving feeling. But it wasn't the eighties anymore, and Bradley had long since given up using his dad and Mavericks pickup tricks (gave up when Mav pulled his papers, actually).

He didn't sing to her, did some good old fashioned flirting.

It was a good thing he was cute, she thought with a grin. She held out her hand, signalling that it had worked. "Chaos," she said.

He placed his hand into her own and shook it. "Rooster," he replied, exchanging callsigns.

Chaos and Rooster. Chaos she was indeed. Chaos they both were. Bradley couldn't help but follow her, his hand in hers as she led him out of The Hard Deck. His wingman whooped and hollered at him as he left, following her out to her car.

She had debating staying on base or renting a place of her own for a month. Now that she had Bradley kissing her in the back of her car, she was so glad that she rented a place of her own. The way his lips trailed down her neck, had her moaning so slowed anybody outside of the car could hear.

She got him back to her rented place, got him into her rented bed, and didn't let him leave it until the next morning. He had her awake for most of the night, absolutely railing her (there is very little else I can say about it, but the burn on his moustache was, wow. Her legs had never shaken like that before, but that is a story for another day).

He left before she got up, making his way back to his own place, to his baby (the Ford Bronco).

They'd given each other their callsigns, knew each other by no other name. It shouldn't have been a surprise to Bradley when she walked in and took a seat in front of him.

"Shit," he hissed under his breath.

But there she was, Chaos. Bradley's cheeks were flaming any time the two had to interact.

But Chaos? She didn't stop flirting. And Bradley couldn't stop himself from falling for it. Time and time again he ended up in her bed. Neither much minded it. It didn't become rare to see his Ford Bronco parked outside.

But then they were shipping out. One last night at The Hard Deck, drinking together. It hadn't quite struck to the two that this was their last night being together.

If she wanted anything that night, Bradley was getting it from the bar. They didn't hide any sort of... relationship (or whatever it was) that night, with Bradley kissing her whenever he walked over to pass her the beer he'd gotten to her.

"Damn," said Natasha as she sipped her drink. She was the one watching the clock, watching for the minute it got within twelve hours of them flying. "You've got him trained like a damn dog."

It was a rather sad thought. Not that she had him 'trained like a damn dog', but that soon, they'd bee moving on from Top Gun and leaving each other behind. There was no telling where they'd end up and whether they'd be able to stay in touch.

God, she couldn't tear up here. She concentrated on one spot on the ground, just trying to keep herself from crying.

"Chaos?" Something touched her shoulder, a cold bottle of beer. Bradley held it in front of her face and she gladly took it.

They'd be okay. For this last night, they'd be okay.

#bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw fluff #bradley bradshaw x you #rooster #rooster imagine #rooster x reader #rooster fluff #rooster x you #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #top gun #top gun maverick #tgm #rooster top gun #top gun fanfiction

[velvet-vox]

The guideline to all of the most interesting posts on Doll.

Howdy! I've decided to create this catalogue of Doll's centered content to allow all of the character's fans to reliably find interesting discussions regarding her depth, psychology, role in the story, insights, free time, head canons etc....

As well as various shout-outs to my favourite content creators on this side of the community! (Note for said content creators: if I've inconvenienced you, or made you feel uncomfortable by citing your names on this map, just make me aware in the comments and I won't bother you ever again, as well as erase your names and material from this post)

A quick introduction (skip this part if you are here just for the list)

The reason why I wanted to make this, aside from having a reliable way to look up all of my work, is for the same reason why I started to write articles on Tumblr; you see, I've actually been part of the Murder Drones fandom ever since episode 6 dropped, and Doll quickly rised above the others and became my favourite character of the show.

So naturally, I started to search for some analyses done on my fave, I searched and searched and searched...... and just couldn't find any, aside from one quick @scottmemelordstrashpile (general and usually justified Murder Drones critic, not really focused on a singular aspect of the show) defense comment on a post that God only knows what it was about and where it went.

I kept looking at the specific tag over and over for more than a year, and eventually, I got fed up and wanted to leave the community, especially after reading this YouTube comment:

... Yikes. Luckily for me, I've eventually found out about @melissa-titanium , which finally satisfied my need for someone who shares my passion for the russian worker. She had a pretty good view on her character, which came in handy for me, since, despite me loving Doll intensely, I could never quite put my finger on exactly why and was afraid that it was just her cool presentation and that she was actually a shallow character.

Yet I still wanted more, and asked for more. And then, someone instilled an idea in me: to be the one who provides for more. So, I started planning how I wanted this to go, and came up with a couple of ideas....

Then Episode 7 dropped, and..... yeah. It's definitely the most mind bending episode of Murder Drones to date.

After her death, it felt like Doll really exploded in the tag discourse, not as much as the rest of the episode, but Doll was finally treated as someone (past) important.

At least to me; if I joined the fandom at the height of episode 3, I can only imagine that she was more of the talk of the town than my first impressions were.

But now, with all the useless stuff out of the way, here's what I've managed to gather across my research. Feel free to suggest more interesting things and I'll add them to the list.

All that is mine:

The early days

Asks for Doll's defense

Doll is Wakfu's NOX?!?

Masochism

The fun stuff

Failure girl guide

Nori x Yeva against Uzi x Doll

The Murder Drones RPG

Doll's resurrection: pros and cons

The doorman and the russian

Khan and Doll's scene appreciation

The serious analyses

The russian worker drones tragedy

The show's flaws represented through Doll

Different views on her death

Ship parallels

V and Doll; trauma, mental disorder, and low empathy

My masterpiece

The most important piece of Murder Drones content ever made.

And now, with all of my stuff out of the way, it's time to talk about

The big two.

@melissa-titanium and @dreamii-krybaby are the two biggest blogs to go to if you want interesting takes on Doll and her supporting cast; in particular, Mel and Dreamii are almost singlehandedly responsible for the popularization of the Noll ship and the character of Yeva respectively, as well as partially clearing up some of the misconceptions present in the community regarding certain aspects of the show.

Mel is someone who follows his passions whenever they take him, that currently includes Mob Psycho, Dungeon Menshi, and Dragons if you are interested. He has a very charming writing style and is always happy when people send or tag him into any Doll related post.

Dreamii is someone with a very balanced view of the show and its elements, she is not afraid to criticise the aspects that she likes, and she has a love/hate relationship with Doll, unlike the one that she has with her parents.

Stuff from @melissa-titanium (mainly a N x Doll blog)

Introducing Noll

Happy smile

Insides spilling out

They also have a dedicated Discord server, but I don't think I'm allowed to share the link, so just go to their page and you'll find it there.

Stuff from @dreamii-krybaby (mainly a russian roulette blog)

Family theme

The point of her death

Doll's father

Others

Here, in no specific order, I've put the names of other content creators and some of their work.

Stuff from @rad10active-ketchup (artist with a particular taste for Rebecca)

Too sudden

Stuff from @eveledoze (great artist)

Platonic Doolzi

Stuff from @nyaifyz (they describe themselves better than I ever could)

Doll's pain

Stuff from @yakkuo13 (another artist and Doll fan)

Trying to cope

Stuff from @hjansetv (artist)

Short hair Doll

Stuff from @txttabloid

Uzi's foil

Stuff from @sparklesnake23

A cry in the void

Shout-out to Tirkras, who's not among us anymore :'(

I hope it's just a mistake and they come back.

Look up @scottmemelordstrashpile for various MD related things.

@cmicy has been posting Doll's drawings everyday in anticipation of episode 8.

@biscu1ts made this beautiful gallery .

The @crimson-solver is a new Doll RP blog that answers questions through the russian cannibal's mouth.

@thecoolersolver and her alt @russian-with-a-button is also a big Doll enjoyer, they like to get into arguments with @cyn-bot , a Cyn RP blog. Since I'm talking about them, I might as well credit @lizard12323 , @desgn8n-n , @rebecca-babe , @kittydragondraws , @serial-designation-v , @serial-desigation-vee , @serial-designation-en , @scaredk1tty , @electronix-arts , @blahash , @uzibrainrot and @the-iron-general .

🇬🇧 If you are Italian, check out @zarit-not-here , so that we can start to build our side of the community together.

🇮🇹 Se siete Italiani, cercate per @zarit-not-here , così che possiamo iniziare a costruire il nostro lato della comunità insieme.

@solarspinel has made... This thing which I don't know what to tell you about.

Here's a cool post by @lesslie-sass .

Appreciation (this post was originally made by @zehecatl , but I couldn't find the original so I used the Dreamii reblog, sorry anon).

@md-confessions is a user centric blog where people leave their confessions regarding various aspects of the show.

User @miuleen made this little piece of angst over here, which just so happens to go in conjunction pretty well with this analysis over here by @sisterpaw125 .

@robotthing is a troll.

And finally, last but not least:

A brief moment of appreciation for @dragons-hoard-of-fandoms . They don't create anything really, but their sheer dedication to reblog every single piece of Murder Drones Tumblr everywhere at any given time had to finally be congratulated.

#murder drones doll #uzi doorman #serial designation n #md yeva #md confessions #rebecca from murder drones #md nori #khan murder drones #serial designation v murder drones #russian roulette #murder drones cyn #rp blog #murder drones art #doll fanart #character analysis #essay #md fanart #md fandom #italiano #angst #murder drones spoilers #murder drones episode 7 #wakfu nox #theory #mob psycho 100 #dungeon meshi #murder drones doll's dad #dragons #appreciation post #murder drones episode 8

[silentmoths]

A lick and a promise

Its been *squints* Seven months since i cooked.

god damn its been seven whole ass months CRIES

Boothill got me so fkn good i cant even BEGIN to explain why he's such a comfort character for me ok he just IS.

Boothill x Reader (fem but it's really only mentioned in regards to anatomy.)

NSFW

Enemies to Lovers (kinda?), Smut, Hurt/comfort (kinda?), Oral sex, fingering, boothill is a gd kendoll (sorry boothill genatalia nation i just...wanted to write this like he was a ken doll LEAVE ME-)

7k words, NOT PROOFREAD

The first time you run into the Galaxy Ranger known as Boothill, you’re not sure what to make of him.

You were just an unsuspecting casualty, the pilot, nothing more. Flying ships for the IPC had to beat minimum wage, right? This was your first real gig with them, something a little more secure.

If you managed to make it off pier point without having a gun aimed at you that is.

A…cowboy. You’d heard about them, of course, but seeing one in this day and age was almost unheard of unless you travelled to planets far out in the west, ones untouched by the IPC and their ‘modernizations’.

Yet this cowboy also seemed to be touched by said modernizations, considering almost all of him was made of metal. Hell, all of him might be synthetic, nanotechnology was a terrifying thing, it could eat away the organic and replace it with the inorganic, mimicking skin and its blemishes, hair and all its different shades, like the curtain of black and white you see before you. 

“Han’s where I can fudgin’ see em.” He warns quietly, pistol pointed directly between your eyes. You do as he asks, why wouldn’t you? You weren’t being paid enough to put your life on the line for…whatever the hell you were carrying, you didn’t know, the IPC didn’t enforce ledger-checks- You tell the cowboy as much when he asks.

“Yeah that tracks.” he mutters with a roll of his visible eye. “Lookit’ you, still wet behind the darned ears.” 

“D-do I get a pardon i-if I told you it was my first day on the job?” you manage to squeak out, a terrible habit really, opening your mouth in times you should really stay silent…but the cowboy cracks a grin, a very sharp-toothed grin.

“Ah heck, really?” He chuckles, shaking his head as he spins his pistol in his hand and tucks it away into its holster. “Look I aint’ got no beef with ya. ya ‘ aint even wearin’ an IPC uniform-” “C-contract work.” You cut in with your explanation, only scolding yourself after the fact for, once again, interrupting the one with the gun. “The IPC really gettin that desperate, huh?” He snorts, his robotic fingers flexing as he himself goes to check the ledger, it was obvious he’d done this a few times…perhaps thats why the IPC had started hiring a third party, someone new for him to kill.

And yet he doesn’t kill you. 

He ties you up, sure, but he’s not an entire ass about it, he even apologises when he pulls the rope a little too tight and you squint.

“S’a formality.” He mumbles as he ties the knot tight “y’understand.”

“I guess…Just…thanks for not killing me I guess, Mr.Cowboy.” You shrug, perhaps you were still in a little bit of shock, perhaps you were coping with humour and ‘funny’ comments…perhaps, inside, you wanted to cry because of course of all the times to be held at gunpoint it was your first day working for the IPC.

“Name’s Boothill.” He corrects. Boothill, huh? You’d read about that…some eons old name for gunslinging cowboys who should have been dead. 

After you had been discovered, set free, and promptly fired, you decide to look up this ‘Boothill’ character; you find little other than his bounty…whoever he was, he kept himself pretty closed off…made sense for a galaxy ranger.

-

The second time you encounter Boothill, you’re working on a satellite array. It’s a shit job, it was freezing cold out here, and the welding masks given to you and your coworkers by your bosses were cheap, low quality, offering little protection from the welding torch and its bright, concentrated glare.

After your firing from pier point, no other freighting company was willing to take you on, and in a desperate attempt to get some damned food into your belly, you’d taken this job on some far out meteorite, repairing this shitty, run down satellite so the IPC could extend their reach further.

If the bosses had bothered to do a background check, they would have seen the unfortunate mark next to your name.

’Banned from all positions within IPC jurisdiction’ 

But considering the shit pay, shit hours, and shit accommodation? The old hand’s out here didn’t really care much for the ‘official’ rules; so long as you weren’t being actively hunted.

There was no sun out here, so every few hours there was a mandatory UV break, in which you all got to return to the little sleeping pods that were nothing but glorified transport containers with a wall sectioning off one third to make a bathroom; just to sit beneath a UV bulb. 

Whoever had lived in this one before you had stuck up a picture of a beach on the wall you had to stare at beneath the lamp, and faintly, you wonder if they ever made it there- or had they just keeled over dead from overwork? That seemed more likely, considering nothing had been cleaned out of your pod when you’d arrived. 

As you bask in your shitty, simulated sun, an explosion wracks the entire facility, sending you toppling to the floor as the world spins, cracks apart, opens like the gnashing teeth of some horrific space creature.

Was it a space creature? Had the meteorite collided with something it shouldn’t have? You didn’t want to find out, but you sure as fuck weren’t about to stay here and probably die once the oxygen field around the place sputtered out. The emergency guide tape’s you’d been forced to watch are nothing to help against the real thing, a real emergency. There are sirens blaring, the stark white light’s had all died, replaced by that infuriatingly anxiety inducing red as you struggle to put your space suit on. 

Just make it to a shuttle, they weren’t far, thats all you had to do.

It’s a mantra you tell yourself as the ceiling above you begins to crack and crumble, your time here was up. 

As you wrench open the door to your pod, you collide with someone. Considering you yourself looked like a glorified marshmallow in the emergency suit, you certainly weren't expecting the person you collided with to be as…hard as they were, solid like steel to the point you’re sent toppling back and unceremoniously onto your back, like a turtle.

A familiar pistol is pointed at your helmet.

No fucking way.

Boothill stands there, grin on his face and a gun in yours as he looks you up and down before howling with laughter. “Now what in the hay is that?” he wheezes as you struggle, only to stop when you push the visor of your helmet up, revealing a face he recalls. “No fudgin’ way-”

“You again!” You screech, flailing your limbs as you attempt to stand in this…ungainly suit. “What the fuck are you doing here now!?”

“I could ask you the same mother forkin’ question!” He barks back, yet despite it all, he withdraws the pistol and even shows some mercy, reaching down to pull you back onto your feet “the fork you doin here?” 

“Well, someone got me fired from my last job!” you snark at him “and now it looks like I'm out of another, what did you do!?” “Blew up tha’ satellite!” He chuckles as if he’d just won at an arcade game and not caused millions of credits in damages. You open your mouth to…you don’t even know- Shout? Scold a wanted criminal? Beg for mercy? When the world tilts again, the sound of rock cracking and metal creaking fills your senses; resulting in you simply screaming out of fear. 

This was it, this was where you died. On a rock, in the middle of space, blown to smithereens by a cowboy. Except, the cowboy reaches down, and for a moment you think he’s going to kill you, just to stop the screaming. Instead, he grabs your arm and yanks you upright without a word, tugging you along behind him like you weighed nothing in this stupid marshmallow safety suit. (perhaps, to a cyborg, you didn’t weigh anything.)

Boothill cares little for the smoke and the flames, and you are just a leaf in his wind, guided through it all with scary precision until there is suddenly nothing and you realise what he’d just done.

This fucking cowboy galaxy ranger had just leaped off of the edge of the meteorite, dragging you along with him. 

Correction; this is how you die, once you left the gravitational field, you’d just be stuck…floating in the void of space forever…no one would ever find your body-

Before your thought can finish, you crash into something hard, a ship, you realise, you had fallen into the open loading hatch of a ship, unlike boothill who landed on his feet, you’re simply a pile on the floor.

You hear the cowboy laugh as he turns to look at you, and you thank the fact that you’re face down from keeping your likely red, teary face from his scrutiny. 

“Y’alright down there?” He asks.

“Peachy.” you mutter back, your muscles ached, but the adrenaline was already beginning to wane, suddenly the suit felt…heavy, impossibly heavy as you listen to the sound of the ship’s hatch closing. “Why’d you save me?”

Boothill thinks on it for a moment. Why had he saved you? It wasn’t really his M.O, saving people, especially when they worked for the IPC…he supposes a part of him felt a little bad… you hadn’t been working for them directly last time…and because of his stunt, you’d lost that job and had resorted to working for them in this backwater shithole of an array. 

“Eh, Y’aint worth killin.” he responds after a moment “S’not like you’re the mother fudger I’m looking for anyways.” 

Something about the way he says it…stings. Not worth killing? 

Slowly you sit up, a terribly ungraceful affair in this stupid space suit as you pull the helmet off entirely and toss it to the floor, there was no point hiding the tears anymore. 

“Wh- hey now! What’s got in yer’ boot?” Boothill balks at your teary face “what’s tha’ matter?”

You hate how stupid you must look, crying, red in the face…embarrassing really. But after the scare you’d just had, you don’t have the forwithall to keep your composure anymore.

“Whats the matter?” you mutter, staring at the cold, metal floor of the ship “what’s the matter is that you have single handedly managed to lose me not one, but TWO JOBS!” 

You don’t mean to shout, really, you should be thanking him for saving your life. 

“I’m BANNED from working for the IPC!” you cry “I wasn’t even meant to be working here! But where else am I meant to go!? EVERY job is somehow overseen by some division of the IPC, I can’t work anywhere else! Now you say I’m not even worth killing!?”

Boothill stares, the gears turning as he simply takes the emotional vitriol thrown his way. It had been…a long time since he’d found himself faced with this kind of problem.

“Aw shirt…” he mutters, realising his words had only worsened the situation. He takes a knee, pulling his hat off as he watches, he sees the way you’re shaking, your fingers flexing; he might be ‘old fashioned’, but he could recognize a panic attack. “C’mere, let's get this great forkin marshmallow suit off ya.” 

You don’t even have the faculties to push him away as cold, robotic fingers begin tugging away at the velcro, the zippers and the straps. Breathing was getting harder, everything ached. Only once the galaxy ranger had pulled you free of the confines of that damned suit could you expand your chest properly. Too small, you realised, the suit you’d been given was way too small.

“Easy, easy, easy.” Boothill mutters as he sits you down “jus’ breathe.” 

Easy for him to say, did a cybernetic cowboy even need to breathe?

He could see the struggle, but what the hell was he meant to do about it? It wasn’t wrong..the IPC had their fingers in so many pies… finding a job untouched by them? That’s like finding a needle in a haystack. 

It wasn’t often Boothill felt…guilty. But somehow…you’d managed it.

“Aw c’mon, don’t gimme the waterworks.” he sighs “Look…ah’ll admit I forked up your job prospects, I’ll fudgin’ take that responsibility… will ya at least lemme see if I can help?”

“What can you do!?” You cry at him “If the IPC catches wind that I’ve somehow been caught up with you again-”

“Lemme take ya to a planet the IPC don’t care ‘bout.” He cuts in suddenly, an idea forming in his mind. “Been there plenty, they’re good folk, they’ll help ya.. Ya just…gotta trust me.” A planet untouched by the IPC? That seemed like a pipe dream…

“Impossible.” you mutter “any planet the IPC finds, it conquers.”

Boothill grins, that same toothy grin you remember from your first encounter with him. “I know, right? But this one? This one’s special.”

Eyama II was a small planet with little in the way of resources the IPC wanted or needed, a dwarf planet no less, nothing but a speck of dust floating through their air filters. It was a self-sufficient, homely type place…if he was being honest with himself, it’s where he would want to retire if he ever saw his goal through…living the simple life he used to know before the IPC had ripped it from him. 

He knows it’s not the most…elegant solution, but he knew some fine folk there, some fine folk who might just be willing to help the poor outcast he’d created. -

It’s a long trip. It had to be if it was out of the IPC’s gaze…but that did mean a long trip with Boothill.

In a tiny two person at most ship.

You didn’t really know what to expect, if he’d just tie you up and put you in the corner…but as it turns out…he’s somewhat hospitable… ok more than somewhat.

After you’d calmed enough to be reasoned with, he’d handed you a bottle of nondescript nature. Without much thinking, you’d taken a swig, eyes widening at the distinctly alcoholic taste. It wasn't anything strong like whiskey, but it was enough of a shock.

“Malt juice.” He clarifies as he takes a seat at the helm, setting the warp drive “figured it’d help calm ya nerves.” You blink down at the bottle before slowly taking another, more temperate sip.

It…wasn’t bad…actually it was pretty good. It burned your throat just enough to keep you in the present.

You both talk…small things, you ask him how he knew of this planet, and tells you about all the planets he’d visited that weren’t under the IPC’s thumb, how all of them were nice, simple places.

He tells you that he thinks you’d like Eymaya II, he thinks everyone would like Eymaya II. It had rolling hills and green valley’s. The people were mostly farmers, ranchers, common folk just going through the motions to get by, but not in the same nihilistic sort of way most did. Good, honest living, as he says.

Part of you wonders if there ever was a time this ranger worked a good honest life, if this whole…cowboy thing was a facade, or if it was real, remnants of a past he couldn’t return to. You’re not sure if it’s his conversation, the malt juice, or both, but you eventually begin to open up, about your home life, about your terrible habit of cutting into conversations when you were nervous, all of it. 

And when you begin to fall asleep? Your head nodding slowly where you sat, you feel a cold, metal hand rest on your shoulder.

“C’mon, you need ta’ rest.” He tells you, guiding you to the cot that looked seldom, if at all used.

For a wanted criminal who had put you out of two jobs and nearly killed you both times…he was surprisingly kind.

-

He wasn’t wrong about this planet. It was beautiful, the air was fresher than you could ever recall, living in the city.

Apparently, the look on your face says as much. Boothill chuckles, tilting his head softly as he watches you take it all in. “Told ya ye’d like it.” He hums, something in his mechanical chest whirring with..pride perhaps? Satisfaction? He wasn’t entirely sure, but seeing a face that, so far, all he’d seen from was fear and upset finally show…wonder…it felt good. He wanted to see it more, perhaps even a smile one day. 

He takes you to the inn, sets you up with Jodie, an elderly woman who had been around the block quite a few times, she didn’t put up with Boothill’s antics, more like…a curmudgeonly aunt at first as she barks at him for not calling in sooner, only for it all to melt away into an almost familial warmth as the cowboy explains himself, explains you.

“now child I know you did not lose this poor thing not one but TWO jobs!” She scolds, hands on her hips. 

There is a lick of satisfaction as you watch boothill shrink beneath the innkeeper’s rage. 

“Donchu’ worry hon, we’ll getcha set up here, somewhere this block for brains can’t accidentally getchu fired. Only thing that’ll do that around here is laziness…you aint lazy, are you?” she asks, turning to you and squinting her beady, aged eyes at you, making you stiffen up as well.

“N-no ma'am!” you bark instantly “I-I promise to work hard and earn my keep!”

This atleast, seems to settle her some, and before you know it, you have a hot meal and an ice cold drink in front of you, and you want to cry again.

You actually feel…somewhat sad when boothill has to leave…anxiety twisting in your gut… would you really be okay here? Would you survive? 

But he pats you on the shoulder and grins, and something about it is…comforting.

Something about it made you want to try.

-

It’s five years until you see Boothill again.

Jodie had grown too old to continue running the inn, and somehow, against all odds, it was you who had taken over. The entire place was yours, and you were happy. 

Not a day goes by where you don’t wonder how you ended up here, but then you recall, the enigmatic cyborg cowboy who had hijacked your ship, and then blown up a satellite array.

Somehow, your outlook on him had turned from disdain to…a strange sort of affection. The frigid anger had melted away, and what replaced it was a sense of…thankfullnes for what he’d done for you. Working here, away from the almost all-encompassing reach of the IPC had opened your eyes to just how…corporate everything felt, and how it so desperately wasn't you. 

It’s a late evening, you’re closing up for the night, the bar had emptied of all it’s usual late-staying regulars, and those who had rooms rented for the evening had already retired. 

You’re polishing a few glasses when the door swings open.

“Well now, there’s a face I ain’t seen in a forkin long time.” 

The voice is familiar, and has you turning, a small smile tugging at your lip. A mixture of feelings racing through your chest.

“Well well, come to let me collect your bounty, Sir?” you snicker, placing the glass you’d just polished beneath the malt juice tap to pour him a glass.

Boothill laughs, sauntering in with the swagger you remember as he drops into the stool closest to you. “How’ve you been, Boothill?” you ask him, setting the glass in front of him and waving away his credits. You owed him one drink, atleast, “what’ve you been up to?”

The galaxy ranger snorts, throwing some of his long hair over his shoulder “How long ya’ got there, sweetheart? S’gonna be a long story.”

“I own the place now, and we’re closed, so all the time in the world.” you hum, deciding to pour yourself a glass as well after locking the door. “Shoot, really? What happened to ol’ jodie?” He asks, voice tinged with legitimate concern as you drop into the barstool beside him.

“She’s fine, she’s fine..just old is all.” You assure him, finding a little comfort in the relief that washes over his features.

“Ah, fork don't scare a guy like that.” He sighs, running a hand through his hair “thought Jodie had up n’ left us.”

“Nah, she’s got a while on her yet.” you snort, taking a sip of your drink.

The conversations run long into the night, catching up, listening to the thing’s he’d done, places he’d seen…IPC operations he’d torn apart at the seams. He listens to you too, as you tell him about how things have been here, catching him up on anyone he asked about. It was like talking to an old friend. You weren't sure…what boothill was to you…a friend? An acquaintance? It was…complicated. 

More malt juice enters your systems, you ask if it actually has an affect on him.

“You know…being a cyborg and all..” you mumble, feeling a distinct warm dusting to your cheeks as the malt settles. 

Instead of responding with words, the galaxy ranger reaches out and takes your hand into his. He feels…

Warm.

“You tell me, darlin.” He chuckles after a moment, watching you though half-lidded eyes. You barely even notice, more curious about how the alcohol affected him. Without even thinking, you run your fingers along his exposed arm; you weren’t going crazy, he was warm, almost humanly so. 

Your fingers continue to wander without much thought until they brush along his jawline; the sudden transition from steel to skin is what finally snaps you out of your own thoughts, pulling back with a squeak.

“O-Oh aeons I’m sorry!” you fluster at his face, his eyes are wide and his mouth slightly ajar. “I-I got carried away I’m-”

His hand reaches out again, clasping yours and pulling it back towards his face as he rests his cheek into your palm.

“Don't.” He murmurs, softly, softer than you’d heard him before. “Keep goin…please.”

A realisation settles across your mind.

“You…you can’t feel most touch…can you?” 

He doesn't look you in the eye, but he does sigh, only burying closer to your warm palm, worn after years of working hard…but still human.

“S’not that I can’t feel…I can…but..s’mtimes it’s so forkin dull I might as well not…but..my face is…”

“One of the few places you can feel.” You finish the sentence for him, feeling a pang of sympathy. You didn’t know how long Boothill had been like this, but you could wager long enough that he was more desperate for a kind touch than he probably even realised.

“Yeh…” he mutters, his lips turning down into a frown “sorry…ah know it’s probably-”

“Shut up.” you mutter, turning to face him fully, your other hand coming to rest on the other cheek as you watch this man, this gunslinging galaxy ranger, falter. His eyes widen before he shuts them entirely, leaning into it, starved of this type of affection.

“F’ya don’t stop this bullshirt m’gonna think you might have some feelin’s for me, darlin’..”

You didn’t know if thats what it was…but you didn’t want to stop either, a part of you wanting to sate you own selfish curiosity…another part wanting to do this for him.

“It must be a lonely existence, living like you do.” the murmur leaves your lips before you even notice you’d spoken out loud, thumbs stroking over his cheek bones. Boothill stares at you in silence for a long moment, his gaze calculating, probing. 

“I thought ya’ hated my forkin guts…” He mutters.

“Perhaps once, for a little bit, I did.” You admit “But then you brought me here, and I’ve never been happier..”

A beat passes, then another, and another. Boothill stares at you, the feel of your hands on his face something he wasn’t ready to give up just yet.

And then he leans forward, lips crash together and the taste of Malt juice and perhaps a little bit of oil is on your tongue.

You don’t pull back, if anything, you lean into it shamelessly. 

Robotic hands grip your waist as your own finally shift from his face to wrap around his shoulders. At some point his hat goes flying off elsewhere, but neither of you care; too strung tight, too wound up to care.

His teeth are as sharp as they look, but he’s careful with them as he nips at your bottom lip, swiping his tongue over the little beat of blood he manages to draw.

“Shirt-” He mutters against your lips, his eyes shut tight, you can hear his inner mechanics whirring, like a mechanical heart about to rabbit from his chest “fudge, if you don’t stop me now darlin I’m gonna keep taking-”

“Then take.” you mutter back at him, tangling your hands into his surprisingly silky hair and yanking. “Take what you want.”

“Oh trust me, I would but..” Boothill’s growl trails off, and for a moment he looks…embarrassed. You can’t for the life of you figure out why until he steps closer, your knee brushing between his legs- oh.

“Flat as a forkin’ brass tack.” he mumbles. 

You’re not sure why, it might just be the curse of your horrible humour, but your attempt at not giggling only sets you off into laughter that you attempt to muffle into his shoulder.

“Ey, watchu laughin at?” you expect boothill to be…mad at your outburst, but you can hear the amusement in his voice, feel the tremble of his own laughter “t’aint funny.”

“It kinda is.” you snicker out, pulling back to look him in the face. He looks a little sheepish, but thankfully, mostly just amused. “It’s okay…we’ll figure something out..”

His toothy grin settles back into a dangerous little smirk as the moment passes again, the kind of smirk that makes your belly twist a little. “Oh yeah, I got some other tricks up my sleeves.” 

Without much more to say, you find yourself being lifted, thrown over the cowboy’s shoulder- as you open your mouth to say something, you’re interrupted with a harsh slap to your ass, resulting in nothing but a squeak.

“Where’s yer room?” He snickers as you glare at him. 

You consider not telling him, being a brat, but the charming smile he returns to you is… yeah it does something stupid that goes right to your crotch. 

“Upstairs…first door on the left.” you mutter, flustering at the way his grin widens. 

If you didn’t know better you’d almost describe Boothill as practically skipping up the stairs, the angle for you however was a little trepidatious, and you find yourself clinging to him for a little more stability, right up until he carefully tosses you down onto the plush of your bed, landing with a soft thud.

He’s back on you, and your hands are back on him without him needing to ask; you can see the relief it brings, the way his eyelids flutter and his brow pinches as your fingers glide across his cheek, down his chest and along his arms, still warm, you note…

His lips return too, his own hands untucking your shirt just to get under it, metal fingers gliding over the smooth of your belly, up the your sides as he groans into your mouth. You wonder how much he can actually feel, if it was still dull, or if the alcohol had heightened his mechanical touch sensors somehow. You didn’t care, he looked happy, legitimately happy, like a dog being scratched behind the ears as you indulge him. 

His lips move from yours and he begins to nip and taste elsewhere, his nose brushing against your own as he leans in, nuzzling at your cheek, nipping at your jaw, revelling in the little sounds of pleasure he pulls out of you, especially when his wandering hands wrap behind your back and find the clasp of your bra, it comes undone with a surprisingly expert tug and you moan softly at it. 

(Who could blame you? You’d been wearing the damn thing all day.) 

You wished there was something you could do for him, something to pleasure him like he was doing for you, but you forced yourself to be content with touching him, running your hands through his hair, scratching at his scalp and tugging at the soft strands; running your thumbs over his cheeks, tracing the shells of his ears.

Boothill however, seemed just as hellbent on touching you, but he had far more room to move, to explore, to play. 

Metal thumbs find your nipples, embarrassingly hard and sensitive after being trapped in the confines of your bra all day, and you moan as he rolls them both, back and forth in a slow, methodical rhythm that leaves your breath light, and your stomach twisting in knots. 

Pointed teeth find your throat, nibbling and worshipping every inch of skin they could catch. You’d have to wear a scarf tomorrow if he kept that up, lest the regulars at the bar notice the strange bruising… but you don’t stop him; you were all in on…whatever this was now. 

A metal hand pulls away long enough to pop the buttons on your shirt, leaving the plane of your torso open and exposed to his gaze, nothing short of hungry as he stares down at you. 

“Fudge…” he mutters, his voice husky “That’s a nice view…” 

“Tease.” you huff.

“Tease? Oh ah’ll show you tease.” He snickers, his mouth returning to your skin, working lower, biting at the junction of neck and shoulder, nibbling along your collarbone before the cowboy shifts further, his tongue darting out to lap at one nipple whilst a hand works the other.

You gasp and moan, a hand quickly coming to muffle your cries, cheeks alight with embarrassment at the sudden outburst. Boothill only chuckles, his eyes trained to your face as he lays, settling between your legs as he rests atop you to continue his work, but at least he doesnt pull your hand away, too engrossed on what he could feel opposed to what he could see and hear. 

He switches breasts while his free hand trails down, over the soft plane of your belly and to your belt, unbuckling it with ease and sending the strap of leather flying across the room before those fingers return, popping the button of your work jeans and dragging the fly down. You groan softly in appreciation at the relief it brings, only to feel those metal fingers working the waistband down.

Just what was he planning? you wonder internally as he gives your nipple one last, harsh suck before releasing it, making you keen beneath your hand. 

“Feelin good, darlin?” he whispers. He sure sounded like he was feeling good as he nuzzles against your skin, nipping at your stomach and trailing lower, hands gripping at your jeans, pulling them and your underwear away in one swoop, leaving you open, exposed, and embarrassingly wet. “Y’sure look it..” he adds with a low whistle “aint that a sight.”

“B-boothill-” You mumble, an attempt at closing your legs out of embarrassment only sandwiching his head betwixt your thighs. He grins at you; it’s such an endearingly handsome thing, it makes you feel like this wasn’t a first time thing between you both, like he knew you, like he was comfortable with you, which only added to the heat in your belly.

“Aw don’t go gettin all fudgin’ coy on me now.” he snickers “After all those drinks’ ya’ gave me downstairs, I’m still kinda thirsty.” 

His metal hands part your measly human thighs with shameful ease as he leans in close; you squeal when you feel his hot tongue lave down your inner thigh, warm breath so achingly close to your cunt it was maddening.

But it seemed Boothill was just as desperate as you were, his mouth attaching to your cunt after only a moment, taking in your squeal as his teeth gently roll your clit, the added danger only serving to make you wetter. 

“F-fuck! Boothill-!” you moan out, forsaking keeping yourself silent as your own hands scramble across the sheets, searching for something, anything to ground yourself as his tongue laps at your folds with fever; they eventually find and settle in his hair before giving it a tug.

Boothill groans, the sting is only arbitrary, but he loves it, he loves being able to feel something. The warm plush of your thighs around his ears, the heat of your cunt as he sucks on your clit, only made sweeter by your cries. He’d missed this, he’d missed this a lot..

“Y’aint seen nothin’ yet, darlin.” He growls low and loving against your thigh in the brief moment of reprieve he gives you. You stare down at him with hooded eyes,your knees already trembling from his vicious onslaught; he nips the soft, sensitive flesh of your thigh with a cheeky smirk, holding up a pair of fingers, watching your face as he slowly drags them through your wet folds, collecting your slick; you gulp. “Like a’ said, I got a few fun lil’ tricks up my sleeves.” His mouth returns, lapping and pulling you right back into the overwhelming, wonderful pleasure as a slick metal finger circles your entrance, slow, methodical, torturous. You nearly sob with relief when he finally presses the digit inside, the metal actually making it easier. He hums his approval at how easily his finger is sucked in, pumping it slowly in and out, in and out; taking things at his pace- perfect.

After a little while, you feel that finger beginning to probe, to prod and search for your G-spot, and before long he finds it, signalled by a loud gasp and a sharp tug at his hair, only pulling his mouth closer, his tongue working away at your clit like he wasn’t driving you absolutely mad with pleasure.

Once he’d found the spot, he retreats, slowly adding the second finger and beginning the cycle again, stretching you, filling you stupidly well; it was an absolute tragedy that he didn’t have a dick…at this point you were so stupidly horny, you would have climbed on top of him just for a chance to ride him.

(somewhere in the back of your mind, the saying ‘save a horse, ride a cowboy’ reverberates) 

As you’re right at the height, right at the edge, he suddenly stops, his fingers cease their movements and he pulls his head away, resting his chin on your naval as he stares up at you with such a stupidly loving look that it makes your heart twist; his chin was absolutely drenched in your slick, but he looked so very content.

But you weren’t.

“B-boothillllll-” you whimper, tugging at his hair again, why had he stopped!? Now of all times? You could feel his metal fingers pressed against your G-spot, but unmoving, they did little to pleasure you. You clench around them, but that too, yields little results.

“Sorry sweetheart, just wanted to see your face when I did it.” He chuckles, his smile twitching up in the corner.

“D-do whAT-” your question cuts off abruptly when the fingers inside you suddenly burst to life with vibrations, the strength of which you’d never experienced before. Your body coils and you nearly scream as he rams those fingers into your G-spot, stars exploding behind your eyes whilst pleasure cuts through your belly like glass. 

“That.” He hums, satisfied as he returns that sinful mouth of his to your clit, adding another layer of pleasure. His fingers were harsh and rough, crooking into your G-spot one second, and then splaying out the next, dragging rough and harsh against your walls; his tongue however was soft, gentle, slowly and carefully rolling circles around your poor little nub. You were going to go crazy, he was going to drive you insane and you were absolutely letting him. Your body reacts on its own, thighs squeezing hard around his head, spine arched upward; your hips prevented from bucking thanks to one of his arms, wrapped solidly around your thigh and holding you down to the sheets, forcing you to lay there and take it.

You knew the walls here were decently soundproof, but even you began to question if they could muffle out your cries, made worse when Boothill suddenly sits up, pulling you up along with him, practically folding you in half as he continues to feast on your pussy like he hadn’t eaten in centuries, his vibrating fingers plunging somehow deeper.

At first you struggle for air with the new position, your knees almost at your chest, but then he switches the angle of his fingers and aeons-, you didn’t think it could get worse than this. But the pleasure this new angle brings, it’s new, its terrifying and you don’t quite know how to articulate that to the galaxy ranger causing it all. Your hands scramble clawing and tugging at any part of him you could get ahold of, his name falling from your lips along with incoherent babble, desperation and worry all balling into one feeling you couldn’t describe as he continues to piston those fingers into you, hitting your G-spot with such accuracy, the flame in your gut turning from a high heat to a near-volcanic overload as you jerk and struggle.

The final straw is when you crack open an eye, catching sight of him, staring back at you with such…love, such unbridled affection.

You scream his name as you cum, harder than you’ve ever cum in your life. Your faintly feel yourself make an absolute mess of his face, arms, your back and the sheets below you as your world turns white.

–

A soft, damp cloth carefully rubbing over your skin slowly pulls you back into reality, rousing you from the soft and gauzy subspace of post-orgasmic bliss. You try to shift, to sit up…to…something- but a hand carefully manoeuvres you to lay back down on a thankfully, dry patch of sheets.

“Easy, darlin’” Boothill’s familiar southern drawl hushes you down “Nearly done.”

You crack an eye to find him carefully cleaning you off with said damp towel. Methodical but careful. You’re trembling from the exertion, but boothill looks absolutely fine, the bastard. 

In fact, he looks better than fine. A smile plastered on his stupid face as he works away, wiping sweat and other…fluids, off of you. 

When he was done with that, he wraps you in a clean sheet and lifts you, sitting you down on the trunk at the end of your bed, just so he could change the set you’d obliterated with your unexpectedly rough orgasm. You sit there, watching him, half asleep and pleasantly dozy before he pulls you back into bed, pulling you into his side. A glass of water is pressed against your lips as he encourages a few sips into you. 

You spend the night sleeping with him curled around you; the quiet whirr of his mechanical body providing a pleasing, soft white noise while hands stroke through your hair.

–

“Do you have to go so soon?” You ask as he reaches for his hat.

He’d been here a week, and it had been…for lack of a better word; wonderful. 

But all good things had to come to an end you supposed. The look on his face was enough to tell you what you didn’t want to hear.

“I gotta. I ain’t done yet.” He tells you quietly, despite this, he holds out a hand, a silent request for you to walk with him…the inn and the bar would be fine for a little while.

“I’d ask ya t’come with me, but that’d be the biggest forkin mistake I could ever make.” the cowboy admits. He wanted you to, he’d never felt so content as he had in this week, but bringing you meant putting you in danger…aeons know he’d done that enough already.

“Will you…at least come and visit me?” 

Boothill snorts as they meander their way towards his ship “O’course I will.”

“How often?”

“S’often as I forkin can.” 

You both stop beside the ship, it had a few more dings and dents than you remember, but it was still in surprisingly good condition.

“Well…” you mumble “at least you know you’ll always have a room at the inn while I still run it.”

“Y’mean yer’ room?” He snickers. “I forkin hope you intend on running the place as long as possible, I pulled in a good favor from jodie to get ya yer’ start ‘ere.”

You smile at him. Boothill thanks every aeon in existence that his cybernetic eyes had a camera function, so he could save that face and look back on it when he was drifting through the universe.

Slowly, he pulls his hat from his head, holding it to his chest as he leans down to press his lips to yours, one last time for the road.

“I’ll be back as soon and as often as I forkin can…y’hear?” He murmurs, you nod; fighting away the sting behind your eyes as you step back.

“I hear…and…Boothill?” you ask as he turns around to step onto his ship, looking at you over his shoulder. 

“Thank you.”

Taglist: @stygianoir @meimeimeirin @ainescribe @dustofthedailylife @rjssierjrie @crystalflygeo @angel-of-requiem @asoulsreverie @zomzomb1e @moraxsthrone @mysnowmanandmebaby @inlustris-is-slowly-dying @pvbbyb0y Want to be added to the list? shoot me an ask~

#Silentmoth writes #finally #HSR x reader #Hsr Smut #Boothill x reader #boothill x reader smut

[reverieblondie]

What if Gale fell on top of Tav after he got pulled out of the portal? How would he react to realizing he just accidentally got a face full of his savior's- *gets jumped by the horny police*

No! Not the horny police! So I went a bit fluffy for this prompt but I loved this ask for just a cute little something for Gale. Hope you like it! If you want something Smutty for Gale in the future just ask, I'm all ears....

Portal Mishaps

Gale x Fem!Tav

Words- 1,014

First, trapped on the nautiloid, receiving a new tenant in the old cranium was not exactly what Gale had in mind. Then, when the wretched ship started bursting into fire, he thought his luck was finally changing; Gale was finally going to receive a win after what felt like nothing but losses. Then he ended up…in a rock…

All his previous decisions had led to this, and honestly, it was humiliating… He's an archmage of Waterdeep, well versed in the weave, Mystras chosen! Well, Once chosen. Now, here he is in the cold abyss in between tunnels. Could things get worse?  Maybe he shouldn't think that… The fates seem determined to have everything go wrong for him now, so it is best not to make it worse. Maybe it's for the best, a strange divine intervention. Gale knows his time is short, especially since he cannot clench his hunger. So perhaps he can save a lot of people the trouble and erupt within a rock.

So Gale puts his hands to the side and stays in the cold dark, letting it surround him. Letting the thoughts in his mind drift away. Just accepting this…but as he sits, something in him sparks. Gale is not one to take this fate lying down. No, it's not in his nature not to try; even till his last breath, he will fight. So, using what's remaining of his drained magic, he opens a wobbly portal. It's not the prettiest and relatively narrow, but he tries to free himself, pushing his arm through the tingling sparks of magic. He reaches out, trying to grab onto anything to pull him out of these dark depths, but nothing.

Gale continues to search; he just needs something or someone to help pull him free. Then, echoing through the dark, he hears a voice resonating through the portal. This is his chance to get its attention. Quickly, he reaches his hand out, desperately grabbing through the air. 

"A hand? Anyone?!"

Muttering, then that same sweet voice ringing through…

"Just hang on! I will get you out!" 

Soft hands warm him as they grab onto him and start to pull. Whoever his savior is, he vows to thank them endlessly as they never quit trying to pull him out. Their soft voice continues to encourage him that they will not give up and will save him. It's so full of promise and conviction that he feels like he could cry. Please just let him get through this, let him see his savor, let him thank them! Let him live!

With another powerful pull, Gale's body rushes forward; bright light blinds him as he tumbles out. The light is piercing, but he's never been so happy to see the white light; the smell of smoke and nature hits his nose in an overwhelming welcome. Gale has never liked the smell of smoke, but today, it is a welcomed scent he will probably now have a greater appreciation for. Gale falls onto very soft ground, like really soft ground? And it's taking everything in him not to rub his face in it and kiss the dirt benthe him. As Gale goes to inhale the sweet scent of the ground, he pauses,…perfume? And musk?  

Gale's eyes start to refocus, and that's when he sees what he's landed on. When the realization smacks him like a ton of bricks, what he thought could be soft mounds of ground, he sees he's landed right on…breast! 

Quickly, he scrambles to get off you, and apologies fly from his lips. Gale goes to help you up, his cheeks red as his eyes flicker from your breast to your eyes, trying so hard to get past the awkward situation he's found himself in. Gale is trying to explain what happened to you and your two companions, your eyes much more understanding than those of the other two sets, who are suspiciously narrowed at him. Gale introduces himself as he's trying to piece together what's happened. He can't fight how his thoughts are scrambling with how soft you felt, how good you smell, and what if he would have fallen…somewhere else…

Gale mentally chastises himself for his perverted thoughts; gods he's touched starved, isn't he? Two sets of breasts to the face, and he's spiral. The worst part is you are completely pleasant, even apologizing to him about where he landed as if it was somehow your fault. Maybe his luck has changed? He did manage to fall on a very kind stranger who happens to also be in his predicament…

After a brief discussion about your situation and impending doom, Gale offers you two to join up. Judging from the two mysterious tags along with you, he figures you could use a wizard and a cook in your camp. Your face lights up in an excited smile, immediately going to say yes, but the dark-haired girl quickly puts her hand over your mouth, and she and the pale guy pull you two to the side for a huddled conversation. Gale tries to seem like he's not eavesdropping, though he is happy you're saying you all could use a wizard's talents, and you think he's nice? Awe. 

"Seems like a chatty type," the half-elf says;- shit, he is chatty…

"Don't forget he did cop a feel darling…perverted if you ask me…" -Perverted!? It was an accident! 

"Oh, Astarion, hush. You pulled a knife on me. You're no judge of character, and Shadowheart, if you don't want to talk to him, just send him my way." You look over your shoulder and smile at Gale, making his heart skip. I enjoy a good conversation…" 

Coming back over, you accept him in your group, introduce everyone, and start your adventure to look for a healer. Gale will try not to have any more mishaps regarding you, but he is only a man… as he walks beside you, trying to make a conversation, Gale feels someone staring at him. Turning his head, he sees Astarion walking behind him and Tav with a wide, knowing smirk…  

#askreverie #bg3 #baldursgate #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate fic #bg3 fanfic #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 gale #gale x reader #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #gale x tav #bg3 spoilers #gale bg3 #bg3 fluff

[aces-parrows]

streaming love | mark lee

pairing: streamer!mark x fem!reader word count: 727 genre: fluff, imagine warning(s): not proofread summary: mark finally admits his feelings for you on stream, assuming that you're not currently watching.

mark sits in front of his makeshift stream set-up in his small apartment. in no way was he a professional nor did he have a large audience. his streams were just for fun, which he started to help y/n socialize more and have fun. his streams mainly consist of him conversing with his small audience, but he does sometimes play guitar for them or spend the stream discussing fun topics together. his audience jokingly ships the two of you together, as it's not uncommon for new viewers to assume you're a couple. he regularly sees comments such as "where's your girlfriend?" or "how's y/n?" when you aren't a part of the stream, which melts his heart. he adores knowing how much his viewers love you, especially when it's you with him.

no one in mark's life knows of his feelings for you. it's a secret he's kept for years, ever since you both graduated college together. no matter how much he tried to confess his feelings for you, the courage was never found, leaving him to sit back and watch you go out on dates and console you if you got your heart broken. he always told himself one day he will be the one to show you true love, and for years he couldn't find the right moment to do it.

finally, he accepted he needed advice.

in a late night stream, mark attempted to be vague when explaining his situation. however, his audience was not easily fooled, immediately realizing he was talking about you. it was embarrassing at first, but after some reassurance that they were supportive, he had felt a bit more at ease. as the chat flooded with encouragement, he felt more comfortable to explain his feelings for you. "i don't know man," mark said as he couldn't make eye contact with the camera, "i want to make it special, you know? it's what she deserves." as he watched the chat, one of his viewers had inquired as to why he hadn't already told you how he felt. "sometimes, i don't feel like a girl like her would be into someone like me. it probably sounds stupid, but you guys don't even know a quarter of all the things that make y/n so special." mark checked the chat to be sure you weren't watching. he had assumed you would be asleep by now, meaning that the chances of you catching this stream was slim, especially since he planned to delete the stream right after. the late night rain gently tapped his window outside, adding to his dropping mood as he wondered if he was even good enough for you. "she's the most important person in my life and i'm so damn tired of guys breaking her heart, you know? i want to show her true love, but how can i do that if i can't even be honest about my feelings? like, do i give her chocolate, flowers, or just go for it? like what makes a confession special?" mark looked over all of the chat's advice, opinions, encouragement, and overall support. he truly felt he had connected to his audience in this moment. he had found his people, who not only loved his content, but him as a person. and you as well.

he continued to pour his heart out, talking about his favorite memories with you and how much he adored you.

mark did not know that the whole time, you had been watching the stream. it was one of your sleepless nights, so you decided to catch mark's stream just as he had began pouring his heart out to his viewers. your heartbeat was the fastest it had ever been and you couldn't wipe the grin off your face. it all felt like a dream, but it wasn't.

admittedly, you had liked mark for a few months but never had the courage to confess either. you dated other men to try and forget him, but they just weren't mark, so, they never went anywhere.

as mark concluded his stream to head to bed, you knew you couldn't lose this beautiful moment. ever. so, you shoot him a text.

"hey, saw your stream. please don't delete the stream, i never want to forget the words you said. by the way, i'll accept those chocolates. let's talk tomorrow, okay?"

#mark lee #mark lee fics #nct #nct 127 #nct dream #nct imagine #nct imagines #kpop imagines #sfw interactions only #fem reader #fem y/n #this is a 5 am fic please forgive me if it's not the best

[x-liv25-jamieswife]

hawthorne brothers after a (verbal) fight with their so head canons

my moot @never-enough-novels requested this a while ago (at this point she might not even remember asking for this), so here it is. hope you like them <3.

jameson:

i mentioned this in my averyjameson fight hcs post, but, whenever they fight, jameson gets scared that avery will realize she deserves better and leave him. bc of this, when they're done fighting, he always cuddles up next to her for comfort. avery just sits there with him telling him that he's stuck with her.

jameson tends to blame himself for most of his fights with avery bc he thinks he's the problem (anti-hero) which makes him hate himself so, after they fight, they always sit down and watch friends or any other tv show to distract him (he's never explicitly said that it makes him hate himself but avery can see it. she started the 'tradition').

he hates fighting so he usually starts planning their next date after one. he's next to her lying in bed watching their tv show typing ideas on his phone. he sometimes asks avery for some input. he'll be there like 'hey, heiress, should our next date be in italy or spain', and avery just tells him that he doesn't have to do so much and they can just have a candlelit rooftop date. jameson then tells her she deserves the world and that he'll do anything for her. avery ends up shedding a few (happy) tears discreetly.

he becomes a touch starved mess. he's either holding avery's hand, begging for hugs and cuddles, or pulling avery into his arms so that he can stroke her hair and kiss her face.

fights tend to make him tired so he usually falls asleep next to avery while they watch their show. avery sees this, closes the tv, pulls him into her arms, and falls asleep too.

grayson:

like jameson, he'll start blaming himself for his fights with his so, but, instead of finding healthy ways to distract himself, he overworks himself the next day to forget about it (i say next day bc he spends the day of the fight (after it of course) with his so)

fights give him anxiety so, to losen up, he takes a bubble bath (and sometimes his so joins him)

he finds this weird, but he always feels the need to change clothes after a fight bc when he looks in the mirror and sees the suit that he wore during the fight, he starts thinking about it and it makes him feel bad. his so usually has another suit out ready for him to put on.

at night, when his so is sleeping, he goes out for a swim to clear his mind. sometimes, one of his brothers (or avery) finds him and tells to get back to bed bc its late. sometimes he listens and sometimes he doesn't. when he doesn't they just sit there with him/keep an eye on him from further away if he wants to be alone. (this might seem ooc of the brothers/avery but, in my head, in the books, whenever grayson is out for a swim at night, its usually around 10 pm and here its like 3am which is why avery/the brothers intervene)

he has to go to the bathroom and fix his hair bc he tends to run his hands through his hair when he's fighting with his so and it always messes it up, enough to annoy him.

xander: (i honestly see him and max as the type of couple who don't fight)

fights take a lot out of him bc he rarely has them which makes him hungry. he usually goes downstairs to have a scone and ends up bringing one up for max or he gets on of the maids to bring some food up for them.

he goes out the next day and buys items to make max a care package. he buys little bows and glitter to decorate (a rich boy's care package includes things like : 10 new books (or more), 100 bags of her favorite candy that she'll never have the time to finish (he only puts on in the care package and the rest he gets shipped to her), a new necklace with a customized pendant that reminds him of her, and more all wrapped and placed in a designer handbag)

in bed, later that night, he secretly wonders if he's good enough of a boyfriend for max. he doesn't dwell on this for too long bc he's scared of his own emotions, but he does take some time to think about it.

if he does dwell on it (what i mentioned in my last hc), he gets up and goes to his lab. he usually ends up building smth that he knows max wants to please her and to prove to himself that he's good enough (also building distracts him. its a 2 in 1). also, idk how to explain this so here's an example: max and him fought him bc he didn't give max enough kisses in her opinion so he builds a machine that slaps him every hour and yells 'kisses' (they would never fight about this, but this was easy to come up with a gadget for it).

sometimes, when he dwells on it (what i mentioned 2 hcs ago), he ends up taking a walk bc fresh air always clears his mind.

nash:

his first insitnct, after a fight, is to ask libby if she's ok. his feelings don't matter to him if she's not ok. if she's ok, he'll kiss her and think about what he's feeling (if he isn't happy), but if she's sad, he'll pick her up, sit her on his lap, and whisper sweet nothing into her ear.

libby doesn't need to explicitly say this, but nash knows she has abandonment issues and thinks that their fights will someday lead to him leaving her, so sits he goes out and buys her a gift and a card in which he writes that he'll never leave her and that he can't wait to grow old with her.

he's obsessed with her playing with his hair and it always cheers him up. their fights will sometimes sour his mood so he lays his head down on her lap which she knows means he wants her to play with his hair. he'll close his eyes and either relax or fall asleep. libby finds him adorable.

bc fights sour his mood, he usually brings libby out for some horseback riding. he also gets some food ready so that, during their ride, they can sit down somewhere and have a picnic. usually they take these rides close to sunset so that, when they settle down to eat, the sun is setting.

if the fight upset him or made him anxious and he doesn't want to talk about his feelings to libby, he either heads to the bar at night (not to drink but to bartend) or he gets a massage therapist to show up at the house and give him a massage. this usually ends up clearing his mind.

#the inheritance games #jameson hawthorne #grayson hawthorne #avery grambs #nash hawthorne #xander hawthorne #libby grambs #maxine liu #averyjameson #libbynash #maxander

[aromanticbuck]

I think we should engage with media the same way we engage with fanfiction

someone is out there telling a story and sharing it with us. it is the story that they want to tell, in the way that they want to tell it. it's art the same way everything else is art - it's something that someone is creating and then sharing with a wider audience. their audience is just a lot bigger than most fanfics get.

but there are certain rules we follow when engaging with fanfiction, right?

if we like it, we say nice things. we give it a kudos or a like, comment on it, or reblog it (tell friends about it, share it with our followers, etc). if we have complaints, we don't (or at least, we definitely aren't supposed to) go into someone's comment section and tell them that we think they suck, or say how much better the story would have been if they did something different with it. it's rude. we don't harass fanfic authors because they didn't write something exactly the way we wanted them to, or because they had a different opinion on an event and chose to read it differently.

I think all media should get that kind of treatment. and right now, I'm speaking to the 911 fandom directly.

if we enjoy the finale tonight, we can and should praise Tim and the actors and the crew for all they've done to put their story on our screens - especially when this season wasn't originally supposed to happen. if there are parts of it we don't enjoy, we are not going to threaten any actor over a ship or a scene. we are not going to wish death upon anyone - actor or fellow viewer - for having a different opinion.

treat this episode like a fanfic. if you like it, great! give likes and kudos and comments and reblogs to your heart's content! and then some! if you don't, write your own version for other people who share your opinions.

not every story is going to go exactly how everyone wants it to, and that's okay. but we need to react to that fact in a healthy way, and no healthy reaction involves harassing actors because you don't like their character, or threatening other fans for not viewing scenes the same way you do.

#alex says things #911 #911 fandom #this is aimed at one specific (louder) piece of the fandom #you know who you are #evan buckley #eddie diaz #buck buckley #evan buck buckley #tommy kinard #bucktommy #buddie #kinkley #911 spoilers

[syn4k]

hello!!! as you are the resident miante person in mcyt (there might be another one but in my opinion it's you) I have a question: if I wanted to watch mianite how would I go about that/where do I find it? I know it's a youtube thing but I don't know which channel it's actually on and I am. Extremely Curious about it & want to watch it but I have no idea where to do that /genuine question

(also, I know it's got multiple POVs, is there anyone you'd recommend I start with?)

hello! thanks for the ask!

mianite has four main POVs that remain in VOD and episode form on the creators' channels, they all have a playlist for it and you can find them pretty easily by looking up "[creator name] mianite s1" on youtube.

i recommend starting off with jordan captainsparklez' POV like we did, as he is involved in mostly everything in both s1 and s2 and his episodes are edited down to only really have the important bits. if you decide to watch back through the series later from another perspective, tom syndicate's POV is another good one to watch as he's kind of on the opposite side of everything happening in s1 and it puts a lot of his actions in context that jordan left out of his episodes.

if you don't want to watch through the series in its entirety (which is completely understandable), fern @voidandradiance has made a playlist of the important lore moments in both mianite s1 and s2 that she'd be happy to share :]

also it's really funny to me that we are the resident Mianite Guy to you when we've only been here for like, six months. this series turns ten years old today and there are people in this fandom who have been here since the beginning of it or at least who have been here for way, way longer than we have.

if you do end up sticking around here, i cannot recommend these people enough:

@kiwibirdlafayette - AMAZING artist who has been here in the trenches here since 2014. syndisparklez enthusiast. his art-only blog is @grailknightmonty and he also posts Hermitcraft stuff occasionally :3

@transandor chase my good friend chase!! resident Jordan Captainsparklez Guy. brilliant writer, also happens to be fistfighting The Horrors, you know how it his

@voidandradiance i already tagged him before and i'll fuckin do it again because this bitch's writing is stunning beyond words and xyr brain is HUGE. if you like the style of the stuff we write, you'll LOVE fern's work. its so beautiful that i physically cannot overhype it. its so good, y'all. its so fucking good.

@syndianites is, as far as we're concerned, the mouth of god himself when it comes to Tom Syndicate SynHD. there is nobody on this site who understands this character better than she does. they consistently leave the most galaxy brain objectively correct tags about him on our posts and she never fucking misses. this bitch Gets It and i am very lucky to be her friend

@coolcattime's blog is more of a general purpose one, like ours is, but she carries the f/f ships in the Mianite fandom and is also a great writer! she's written a lot of neat AU ideas and although we haven't talked with her much she definitely lives up to her url- she's one cool cat :]

@cactusprisms is also someone that we see around a lot in the notes of our mianite posts, although we unfortunately havent talked much. also more of a general purpose blog but worth following anyways. shes vibing.

hope this helps! <3

#ray's tag #answered #mcyt #mianite #also this is fantastic timing. HAPPY TEN YEARS OF THIS FUCKING SERVER EVERYBODY WOOOOOO WE ARE GOING TO IGNORE THE FACT THAT WE SHOWED UP #TO RHE PARTY SO GODDAMNED LATE YEAH WOOOOOOOO

[copiouscouples]

Kanthony is What If Two Types Super Competitive Elder Siblings fell in love?

Polin is what if two Writer Dorks Who Ship fell in love?

Haha!

Yes! Kate and Anthony are so competitive and Type A. I love how their similar backstory added depth to their relationship.

With Polin, I think it's interesting that writing is like their only shared interest/quality except maybe giggling with each other. As well as their newfound love of smooshing each other. But, I love their differences and how much they complement each other.

Even though Colin is going through a personality crisis this season, him being a Bridgerton has always given him a baseline level of confidence. Sure, he may not be as rakish as his brothers, but he knows as a Bridgerton he will always have a certain measure of respect out in society.

Penelope has never had that. She is always unsure and scared. Her family doesn't have the financial and/or social stability that his does so her confidence often is not there or wavers. We hear it when she tells Eloise "We can't all be a pretty Bridgerton like you."

Penelope is practical and doesn't allow her emotions to guide her (usually). Portia Featherington IS her mother after all. Yes, she wants love but she isn't out here trying to be poor. She has great business acumen and has gone to great lengths to secure her bag.

Colin doesn't have to be practical because he's a Bridgerton and has his family's money behind him. Remember when he was going to run off with Marina? Not practical. Giving his brother drugs? Not practical. Interrupting Penelope/Debling on the dance floor? So not practical. He is led by his emotions.

Colin is a cinnamon roll while Penelope is a Hot Tamale candy. Colin is 90% sweetness and fluff - he can deliver a barb but it's very rare. He's always encouraging especially to Pen. He gives thoughtful gifts to his siblings. He's respectful to other ladies of the Ton. He's sensitive and caring.

Penelope is sweet but has a kick of spice to her. She is Portia's daughter after all. Her Lady Whistledown alter ego is just her letting that side of her personality have free rein. Plus the way she talks to her family- they're just getting their just desserts - but Penelope knows how to use her words to fight back for sure.

Honestly, I feel like Penelope would eviscerate Colin in their couple's fights. Like I'm maybe a little afraid for Colin, lol.

He's a mama's boy. She's neither of her parents' favorites.

Just a lot of contrasts between them. It makes them interesting as a couple.

#polin #bridgerton #penelope featherington #colin bridgerton

[the-obnoxious-sibling]

Shanks stayed behind for Buggy when he was sick, but if the roles were reversed, would Buggy do the same for Shanks and miss out on Laughtale? I'm 50/50 but my opinion means nothing because I'm not a One Piece fan (I just love Shanks and Buggy). I'd love to hear your thoughts. You're much more qualified to answer 😂

ooh.

my first thought is: no, he doesn’t stay behind, but he regrets it almost immediately.

justifications below the cut.

see, i’m mostly thinking about this in terms of the character traits that mirror best. shanks is optimistic and passive, his decision to stay put and wait for another opportunity makes perfect sense to me. it makes no sense to buggy, who is impulsively active and a pessimist, assuming the worst and doing things without thinking his actions through, usually with terrible consequences.

but how can going to laugh tale come with consequences?

well. what if buggy feels the same way as shanks—i don’t want to go there without him—but doesn’t realize it until it’s too late?

standing on the last island, watching the rest of the crew walk into the cave that’s supposed to hold this incredible treasure… buggy wants to see it! he wants to take it! but there’s a pit in his stomach that grows bigger and bigger the longer he stands there, alone.

this is wrong.

there’s supposed to be someone else here.

he’s made a terrible mistake.

i don’t think anyone notices that buggy didn’t come in with them until they’re packing it in, done with their laughter (and maybe carving a message for the future at the bottom of that last poneglyph). but rayleigh spots buggy at the entrance to the cave, hunched over in a shuddering, weeping ball, and he realizes what’s happened.

“you didn’t want to see it without shanks after all, huh?”

buggy startles, tries to pretend that he saw it, that he’s fine. he’s just—allergic to something in the air here, yeah! that’s why his eyes are watery!

rayleigh isn’t fooled, but he lets the excuse lie. he gives buggy a reassuring pat on the shoulder and leads him back to the ship. “i’m sure he’ll understand.”

and shanks probably would understand… if buggy ever told him.

because the second key part to this au is that i cannot see buggy ever admitting to this flagrant weakness. he was at the site of the greatest discovery in history! and he turned his back on it because he felt bad that shanks wasn’t there???

he can’t say that!

especially not when they return to that island where shanks has been waiting to find him recovered nicely, pretending that he wasn’t absolutely miserable on his own eager to tell buggy all about the fun little adventures he got up to while he was waiting for them to come back!

he can’t tell shanks the truth now, not when shanks clearly had no problem having a good time without him.

so buggy lies through his teeth, tells shanks that joyboy’s treasure was so cool and it’s too bad shanks was sick and missed it—but hey, they can always go there together someday! buggy already knows the way, so it’ll be easy! plus then buggy will be the only person who’s ever seen it twice, and won’t that be something!

shanks’ eyes are still a little red after whatever captain roger said to make him cry. he manages a small smile. sure, buggy. whatever you say.

and maybe buggy shouldn’t be surprised, the day roger is executed, when shanks tells buggy he doesn’t want to go to laugh tale. after all, shanks was never the kind of pirate who wanted treasure, was he? and what could it matter to buggy? he’s seen it already.

words dry up in buggy’s mouth.

later, the shame will curdle to rage—how dare shanks refuse to go! when buggy turned away from glory and riches for his sake?!—but in the moment all buggy can do is run away.

#asked and answered #one piece #shuggy #shanks #buggy #*shuggy miscommunication #*narrative foils #*buggy’s bad choices #i hope you were looking for pain here anon because that’s what you’re getting! 🙃