#maybe slightly ooc? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

Visit Blog

Explore Tumblr blogs with no restrictions, modern design and the best experience.

Fun Fact

In 2020, Tumblr had 29.4 million users in the US.

#maybe slightly ooc?

lupeloto · 2 months

Text

“just for you” ficlet

hi okay so i had an anon send in a hc about this situation and i loved it so much so i wrote a little ficlet about it! enjoy them being nasty (if u saw this yesterday no u didn’t, i changed some things hehe)

— — — —

“that’s bullshit and you know it,” ian grunts, yanking the front door open with a fury.

“the fuck it is!” mickey shouts back, stomping through the living room with exasperated mumbles, “need a beer.”

“great, just do me a favor and drink your three six-packs away from me,” ian spits, a flippancy in his voice that only mickey brings out in him.

mickey purses his lips, squints his eyes, and flips ian the middle finger before angrily taking a swig of his old style, “gladly.”

he heads over to the couch, outwardly faking indifference about the situation while quietly cursing himself for letting ian and himself get so worked up over practically nothing. he’s not even sure he can recall what started it in the first place.

he angrily tears his shoes off, popping them on the ground before laying back in the couch and flipping through the channels. he mindlessly stares for about an hour, drifting to sleep before hearing a knock on the door. he ignores it, spitefully waiting for ian to come clamoring down the stairs with mumbles of how lazy he is. he’s still pissed about earlier; ian having picked a fight out of seemingly nowhere just because he woke up crabby. the knock turns to a bang. mickey sighs, mumbling varities of fuck this, fuck that as he begrudgingly makes his way to the door with significantly pronounced stomps just loud enough in hopes that ian will hear.

he vigorously yanks the door open, prepared to spit a quick “can i fuckin’ help you?” before he catches sight of those dewy green eyes and goofy smile.

“the fuck?” mickey whispers before ian pulls his hand out from behind his back. he reveals a bouquet of wilted white roses that look as if they could talk, they would be begging to be put out of their misery.

“climbed out the window,” he flashes a bashful grin, “this is all they had at the store,” he gives a sad smile towards the roses and then back up to his husband.

“i’m sorry,” he says sincerely, a tinge of shame plaguing his voice as those green eyes go soft. “go to dinner with me?”

mickey takes in the sight, his heart doing backflips in his chest, “jesus christ,” he stares down with a wide grin.

“those flowers look like shit.” he says plainly. ian gives him a shrug, clearly fighting a smile.

“‘m sorry too,” mickey steps aside as ian meets him in the doorway.

“you’re a sappy asshole, ya know that?”

“just for you,” ian smirks, abandoning the flowers and grabbing mickey by the waist to meet their lips. he pulls back, bringing his freckled hands up to cup mickey’s jaw. he runs his thumb along mickey’s cheek, tracing his nose and under his eyes. mickey blinks slowly, leaning into the touch as his eyes flutter shut.

“wow,” ian whispers as he scans his husband’s face, getting lost in soft blue eyes and dusting of light freckles across porcelain skin.

mickey leans in, devouring ian with a hunger before ian pulls away and slows the movement. “dinner after?” he huffs through slow kisses down mickey’s neck.

mickey’s head leans back, “dinner after,” he says through hiccuped breaths. they take their time up the stairs, giggling between kisses as they stumble all over the place; door wide open and wilted white rose petals scattered across the floor.

#anyways i love them #gallavich #mickey milkovich #ian gallagher #gallavich fic #gallavich fic rec #shameless #maybe slightly ooc?#i’m not sure i get insecure abt that

100 notes · View notes

laracrofted · 7 months

Text

❝ down comes the night

synopsis: billionaire bob floyd has a reputation for partying and womanizing, but bob has a secret. and when her work in the district attorney's office puts her in the crosshairs of the mob, fran find herself right in the middle of his double life.

pairing: batman!bob floyd x fran douglas (oc)

general warnings: minors and ageless accounts dni (18+), batman au, explicit smut, explicit language, alcohol, see individual posts for specific warnings.

fics

down comes the night make your own luck (district attorney jake)

drabbles and blurbs

his deep voice ⊹ on the floor in front of the fireplace ⊹

extras

playlist mood board batman bob edit work song edit search the tag

anything marked with ⊹ contains smut | requests are open for blurbs. send in a prompt or an idea!

#i’m not starting a new series i promise #but i'd like to write some one shots in this universe #like an anthology #and really i just want to write feral and protective and maybe slightly ooc bob #batman!bob #bob floyd fic #fic: bob floyd #bob floyd x oc #robert floyd x oc #bob floyd smut #fic: down comes the night

205 notes · View notes

moonshynecybin · 3 months

Note

In a reconciliation world, what do you think it would take for Vale’s whole entire brain to jump in there?

Like you say he is repressing the fact that he’s in love with Marc. What makes him say: Ohhhhhhh that’s what that was.

THIS ONE IS HARD ummm see the thing is. they havent reconciled in the last 8 years.... and well. a large amount of history resentment and ego is preventing that from happening. which means we are left to theater of the mind to heal one of the most entrenched sports divorces EVER. one that has become a major part of their respective legacies and has been highly publicized by them both. so theyve got a lot on the line if they want to reconcile. and ive said that i DO think it should be valentino to make the first move here but um. well. i genuinely dont know how to get him to that point ! ive got amporphous ideas about a post-retirement crisis/re-evaluation (helpfully dovetails with marc having the worst time vis a vis his injury), them being in forced proximity and remembering they have insane chemistry/the same sense of humor, marc publicly looking like a slut, and many other somewhat plausible scenarios but until it happens (IT WILL. please please please youre nothing) im just throwing darts at the board.

#everytime i write fic im having soo much fun writing the angst and then i have to actually solve them and im like UH OH.#like they are NOT unsolvable it just would take a MASSIVE kick in the pants or happen so slowly and gradually #that neither would realize it was happening until they are maybe literally married.#IN FIC IVE WRITTEN: 1. marc goes FUCK IT and tells valentino he used to be in love with him (slightly OOC frankly! not my closed-off queen!#2. vale has an emotional journey off-screen that i never fully explain #3. literal time travel.#4. tumblr fic: insane horniness #motogp #callie speaks #asks #rosquez

28 notes · View notes

fandomfourever · 1 year

Text

I just have to get this pet peeve off my chest.

Okay so, like, I'm by no means an expert on metal culture, but I have done some research because that's what I do when I'm working on fic involving things I don't know. And even with the little knowledge I had before just from watching a lot of 80s movies, I had these thoughts, and it just got worse after researching. So....

Eddie wouldn't put his hair up in a ponytail or bun every chance he gets! It's not part of the style! Omg, I see this in almost every Steddie fic and it's driving me up a wall, lol. He especially wouldn't put it up on stage, like, what!? No no no no no! The long hair is for headbanging! Like, I can suspend my disbelief if someone is writing Eddie as doing mechanic work, 'cause having long hair doing that stuff is dangerous, but any other time? He wouldn't. Eddie's committed to the metalhead culture/aesthetic, he'd rather sweat like crazy in the summer than look like a poser. Instead, he'd probably use his bandana to wrap around his forehead to keep his bangs out of the way, or he'd wear it like he did in the show--over his hair--if he wants to keep it from getting in his face.

Maybe I'm in the minority for who it bothers, but gahhh! It makes me roll my eyes so hard every time I read it, and I just carefully edit it out in my mind so that it's more in character, lol.

Obviously, people are gonna do what they're gonna do, but yeah. Had to rant a little.

#eddie munson #steddie #eddie munson x steve harrington #like fine if you wanna make him ooc you do you #but ugh #maybe i'm the only one who it annoys lol #anyway I feel better after finally saying it #again not an expert but like it only takes a little bit of googling #I don't think I saw even one pic of 80s metalheads with their hair in a ponytail or bun #glam metal might have their hair slightly up #but eddie's style is thrash not glam #okay okay enough ranting lol

146 notes · View notes

tvrres · 2 years

Note

Okay, I had one for Angel, maybe an angel x fem!reader where the reader is almost sucked up into the ufo and our poor bby is worried? Just some fluff and stuff <3

and please don’t feel the need to rush take your time! Love ya 💕

— BAD MIRACLE

✦ pairing: angel torres x fem!reader

✦ summary: it's dumb luck you ended up at the haywood's ranch. it's even dumber luck that you didn't die there.

✦ note: yeah i listened to jennifer saunders' cover of holding out for a hero while writing this and yeah i made it deeper than it needed to be. it's a little sad i'm ngl

You weren't even supposed to be here.

This was all because of your stupid phone charger. If it hadn't disappeared from plain sight, your phone wouldn't have died before your alarm went off the next morning. You would have been to work on time and your boss wouldn't have let you go. Running into Angel, an old friend from high school, would have ended with plans for a coffee date that would never come. Instead you asked him if he knew any places hiring.

At first, you were glad things ended the way they did. You liked working with Angel. He had gotten taller since graduation and built some muscle that suited him well, but inside?

Inside, he never changed.

He would often visit the furniture department of Fry's to ask if you needed help, even though he was far from well versed when it came to Tempur-Pedic beds. You would laugh and tell him you were fine, to get back to electronics before he got in trouble again. So what if you guys were friendly? So what if maybe it was a little more than that?

After a two months of this, he invited you over to his apartment to watch some psychological thriller on Amazon Prime of all things. It was a fine movie, but you were too busy thinking about how your knees were touching. Neither of you moved them. When the end credits rolled and your can of Sprite was empty, Angel slid his hand into yours.

"I promise next time I'll take you on a real date," He muttered. You felt a smile creep onto your face before nodding. "But I think you're really great, (y/n). I want to spend more time with you if that's cool."

"That's cool." He looked relieved when you said this even though you couldn't imagine saying anything else. Afterwards, you guys talked and you're pretty sure he convinced you that ghosts were real that night. He seemed pretty certain there was one in the laundry room downstairs. Then he walked you to your car and hugged you goodbye.

There was a tension as you pulled away and you thought maybe he might kiss you. But he didn't, and that was okay. You guys had plenty of time.

It was only a few days after this that the Haywoods entered your store. Angel texted you, saying he was heading out to do an install and that he'd be back later. You sent him a thumbs up emoji before returning to work. Later finally came and Angel strolled up to where you stood by the display couches.

"How was the install?" You asked in a cheery tone, mostly just happy to see him. He looked around, pretending to be casual.

"Fuckin' weird," You furrowed your brows.

"Weird how?"

"Like extraterrestrial weird."

You let out a small laugh. Angel wasn't exactly a conspiracy nut, but he did let himself get lost in the idea of it sometimes. "What are you-"

"Look, just meet me at electronics after you clock out," He whispered as if someone was listening. "It could be nothing, but it could not be nothing." You gave him a suspicious look.

It was most certainly not nothing.

The unmoving cloud was enough to convince you, but nothing struck pure fear into your heart quite like feeling Angel's van stall on your way off the Haywoods' property. "Shit." Was all he'd said.

"Shit?" You looked at him frantically. "Shit, what do you mean shit?" Angel didn't answer you, instead quickly undoing both of your seatbelts. Your heart sank at this as you realized what his plan was. "I am not going out there and neither are you!"

"(Y/n), these are fucking aliens and they will crack this fucking van open like a goddamn piñata if they want to!" He grabbed your hand roughly and looked into your eyes, causing a sudden calm to wash over you. "Just don't let go of me and we're gonna be fine." You barely had time to process his order before he threw open the driver's side door and pulled you out behind him.

You narrowly escaped death once, which was more than enough for the both of you. OJ Haywood was not satisfied with this, however.

So now here you were, reloading film into a bulky camera being operated by some gruff and acclaimed filmmaker you had never even heard of. You sat nervously behind Angel the rest of the time, running your thumb over the label on your walkie that read BATTLESHIP. Despite everything you'd been through, everything you'd seen, the cloud, the power, that. . . thing (Jean Jacket as the Haywoods called it,) none of it felt real.

The only thing keeping you grounded was the constant string of voices coming through your walkie. It was truly a sight, watching OJ on his horse trying to win an impossible race. Jean Jacket loomed over him and you wondered how something so large could seem so weightless.

As the man released a colorful parachute at the last second, the entity turned on a dime to avoid it, giving Holst and his camera a perfect shot of it. It quickly retreated high into the sky, making you breath a sigh of relief as Angel cheered. A weight lifted off your shoulders, seemingly drifting away just as Jean Jacket had.

"It's over!" Emerald's voice crackled through your walkie. "We got it, y'all! The feed started going in and out when, when that guy got got, but we should be covered with the film camera. Right, Holst?"

The man was silent. You took this as his being in awe, disbelief at what he had just captured. His walkie beeped before he spoke into it. "The light," He gazed at the sun that hung low in the sky. "The light, it's, gonna be magic soon." You didn't know what he could have meant by that, but there was sudden foreboding energy in the air.

OJ felt it too, asking over the walkie what he meant. The man didn't answer, having already grabbed his other camera and standing from where he was. You tapped Angel, who was still staring in the direction Jean Jacket had disappeared. He turned to see Holst leaving the safety of the tent.

"Wha- no, no, where're you going?" His voice was frantic. The man turned back to the both of you.

"Angel, (y/n)," he said somberly. "It's gonna be alright. We don't deserve the impossible." Your blood went cold as he stepped fully out into the open.

"Hey guys?" Angel spoke into the walkie. "Holst just said some creepy, cryptic shit, took his camera, and he's heading up the mountain. Over."

You cupped your hands around your mouth and hollered at the older man. "Dude, what the hell?!" The same pit of fear from before welled up in your stomach. "Holst, come back!" Behind you, Angel got up from his seat and moved to where Holst had been before.

"Fuck it." He muttered, looking through the viewfinder of the camera. "He's crazy, right?" You searched for Jean Jacket in the sky frantically, still yelling for Holst. The being seemed to notice him quickly, flying down from the clouds at an incredible speed. It came close to the tent, causing you to quickly pull Angel down onto the ground with you. You both watched helplessly as it descended upon Holst and pulled him up into the air in a cloud of dust.

Then, just like that, he was gone. Your eyes were wide as saucers as you stared at where he had been, fighting every instinct you had to look up. You began to search for your walkie on the ground in a panic, knowing OJ and Emerald had seen it, hoping they knew what to do next.

In your distressed state, you didn't notice Angel stand and walk towards the edge of the tent. Once you did, a scream caught in your throat. He backed up, staring at Jean Jacket in disbelief. It slowly started closing in on him.

"Angel!" You cried out, getting ready to run out to him. Before you could, the tarp that covered you flew and wrapped around Angel and sent him rolling down the mountain into a barbed wire fence. You were about to slide down after him, until you heard Holst's screams echoing right above you.

It was nearly on top of you, so close the metallic scent of blood filled your nose. So you crouched back down and stared at the dirt shifting in the wind, hand over your mouth as you whimpered in fear, not daring to breath. That stupid fucking charger.

You were sure the only thing that saved you was Jean Jacket noticing Emerald by the stables. The wind of it rushing towards her knocked you over, your hair whipping wildly in the air. Once it was gone, you quickly made your way to Angel.

He was tangled up in the barbed wire and tarp, cuts from it littered his skin. "Angel!" You turned him over and tried to feel for the end of the wire. Your fingers bled, but you ignored it the best you could. "What the fuck is wrong with you, you scared the fuck out of me, oh my-"

"(Y/n), get to the house," He was breathing hard and trying to push your hands away from him. "You can make it, go!"

"No!" Tears threatened to spill from your eyes as you fought against him. "No, I'm not gonna leave you here! We have to stay together and we'll be fine, that's what you told me!" The sound of Jean Jacket destroying the stables and Emerald's screams only made you panic more.

"Now I'm telling you to go!" He turned to where the animal clicked loudly. "Go! Before it comes back!" You looked over your shoulder at the house before turning back to Angel.

"You better not fucking die!" Was all you said before turning to sprint towards shelter. You nearly tripped more times than you could count. In your peripheral vision, you could see Jean Jacket move behind the mountains behind you before losing sight of it. You prayed to whatever higher power could hear you that Angel would be okay. That they all would.

"HURRY (Y/N)!" Angel called from behind you. "IT'S COMING!" Your stomach sank as he shouted and you tried to move faster, but the house was still out of reach. Suddenly, you felt as if gravity was no longer working and the dust around you swirled.

Angel watched with horror filled eyes as you were lifted off the ground, felt his heart pound in his ears when he heard your screams. He tried to free himself quickly, knowing there was nothing he could do for you, but refusing to accept that.

You reached for anything you could and by some kind of divine intervention, your sweater sleeve became tangled in the branches of a nearby tree. Jean Jacket still pulled on you with an unbearable force, the wind roared around you so hard you thought you'd go deaf. You fought against the pressure as best you could, forcing your other arm down to grab the tree branch. Clenching both fists around it, you hung in midair. The branch threatened to slip out of your hands and you could feel blood being drawn by its rough surface.

Then, just as quickly as it disappeared, your weight returned to you and you hit the ground with a thud. Not before falling through the branches of the tree, cutting your skin and clothes on the way down. You kept your eyes down for what felt like eternity. The air was silent aside from the steady breeze that had been there before, but you didn't trust it.

Angel stared at your limp body from afar, assuming the worst. He could feel a lump forming in the back of his throat, not even noticing the figure Jean Jacket had started to transform into. He watched as Emerald marched towards where OJ was hiding out and waited until Jean Jacket was distracted with her. Once it was, he finished untangling himself and ran to you. The wind burned his eyes and he wasn't sure if it was sweat or tears that streamed down his face.

Your breathing was still frantic as you looked in the direction of the arena, where Jean Jacket was unfurling itself into some cosmic horror more terrifying than before. You didn't have the energy to be afraid, however. Right as you were going to lay your head on the dirt once more, you heard footsteps rushing towards you. With a cough, you tried to support yourself on weak arms to see where they were coming from.

Angel fell to the ground next to you and pulled you into a suffocating embrace. "I fucking thought you were dead, (y/n)!" You don't remember when you started crying, but at some point you were shedding silent tears into his shoulder while you felt his shaky breath on yours. "I thought you were dead!" You let out a through a sob. You were bleeding all over each other and the only thing you wanted was to be right back on that sofa in his stupid apartment. Before you knew any of this existed.

You both pulled away from each other to examine your injuries. He looked over the bleeding cuts on your palms and you looked over the ones on his arms. You were in the middle of scanning over his dust covered face when he pulled you into him again, this time planting his lips on yours feverishly.

It was a desperate kiss, one he was afraid wouldn't last. You kissed him back just as wildly, trying not to let him know you were crying again in fear he would stop. Finally you pulled away, face shining with tears. The sun had started to sink in the sky.

There was a muffled boom in the distance and you both turned to the direction it came from. A cloud of smoke floated in the air, what remained of Jean Jacket slowly emerging from it. Angel stood on weak knees and helped you up as you did the same.

The drive to his apartment was a quiet one, your hands were still shaking as you tried to unlock your car.

"You don't have to go home, (y/n)." Angel said from where he stood behind you. You smiled in spite of yourself.

"You've done enough for me these past few days," You turned to him with a sad smile. "You need to rest, it's okay."

He stared into your eyes with an empty gaze. It hurt to see him looking so hollow. "I don't," He cleared his throat. "I don't want you to go home." Silently, you pulled him into another hug. It mirrored the one he'd given you the very first time. "Okay," you said. "I just need to get a few things."

When you walked into your bedroom to retrieve some clothes, you saw your old phone charger. Right where you had left it.

Feel free to send in more requests y'all otherwise it's just going to be more of my self indulgent bs

Also, and this goes for any request, if you the sender are not satisfied with your written response, please reach out to me and I will redo it to your liking!

#angel torres #angel torres x reader #nope 2022 #nope jordan peele #angel was a geek in high school and i'll die on that hill #also is this slightly ooc #maybe

180 notes · View notes

anxiously-going · 11 months

Text

Spock enters medbay, hands folded behind his ramrod straight back. When he asks about Dr. McCoy, Nurse Chapel escorts him to the back part of the bay and into the office area.

It looks like a war zone. But then, Spock supposes, it was.

"Dr. McCoy, Commander Spock for you."

McCoy quickly switches the screen of his PADD, but not before Spock could catch a glimpse of the medical article the doctor had been reading.

"Thanks for comin' in Commander. Go ahead and have a seat." He gestures to the couch at the wall and nods to Chapel and he stands. "Thanks for bringing him in."

Chapel gives a nod of her own. "Of course, doctor."

As she leaves, Leonard sits beside Spock on the couch. And for a moment there is silence.

"May I ask what is involved in this assement before we begin?" Spock asks, breaking the uncomfortable silence.

"You may," Leonard answers, but that's not why I called you down here."

A frown flashes across Spock's face. "Lt. Uhura informed me that you wished to complete a psychological evaluation to determine if I am fit for duty again."

"We'll get to that. My dad died a few years ago. Um. He got sick, not long before I enlisted. There wasn't a cure. Assisted suicide is legal in Georgia so..." his words trail off. "It's what he wanted, but I can't help but feel guilty about. Especially- Especially now that they've found a cure." Leonard shakes his head. "I'm sorry for your loss, Spock, I'm so sorry."

Spock grips tight fistfuls of his uniform pants, forcing himself to take measured breaths.

"It's not an easy burden to bear. We all saw what happened; it wasn't your fault, kid. Feeling guilt, feeling shame, anger, sadness, those are normal and healthy things to feel. It's also normal to not feel anything. And not because your half Vulcan. But because that's just how grief is sometimes. Even for humans." Leonard briefly gripped Spock's shoulder. "You're not alone in this. I can't- I can't begin to understand what you're feeling after every thing that's happened. But I do know what it is to lose a parent. I know what it is to lose the one person in your family that you feel is the only one who truly understands you. I lost that when I lost my daddy, and I'm sorry you lost that in your mama."

"Thank you, doctor," Spock manages to croak out. He doesn't flinch when Leonard gently pats his back and neither of them move from the couch for a long while. They just sit together and politely ignore the fact that the other is crying.

#leonard mccoy #spock #my writting #flash fic #is it slightly ooc? maybe #do i care? lol no #this is the first trek fic ice written in a while now #this ones going on the fridge #shout out to 🛡 for helping me with this one

30 notes · View notes

nighttbound · 8 months

Text

I'm going to start killing hostages if--after looking into this fucked up Loonatics Unleashed cartoon bc of the insane video essays I'm seeing--I start going "oh man this could have been good actually." Bc like weirdly there are vaguely passable scifi stories going on. If you could just take those out of this show with all the goofy gimmick Looney Tunes removed it would be as okay as any other 2000s futuristic scifi superhero cartoon. The villains and side characters are so much cooler bc they're not hampered by the whole "we have to recreate our all-star branded cast and give them a hamfisted sense of humor". Literally I have watched not even ten minutes and you can just tell. Tbh that's kind of sad! The way you have some of this shit very at odds w each other where the world is kinda neat but the branded characters hamper that.

BTW among the other original characters they made this asshole inspired by Pepe Le Pew is so fucking cunty it's actually sickening. I can feel my brain chemistry being changed. This is so an oc I would have made at age 16

#;ooc #I know I said I wasnt doing well but this just SKYROCKETED my horrid cartoon enjoying brain #maybe its bc his accent and the sharp outfit also remind me slightly of m.aison talo #the hair is so so so good jfc

11 notes · View notes