#now it's like nobody ever does it. or at least doesn't do it on here.

[phrandallanton]

ranfren headcannons

I've done everything but posted headcannons and a fanfiction. This won't do. Here's some headcannons of mine! All of them aren't serious so don't take them that way d(>_･ ). Feel free to ask me about any other headcannons I'll definitely give more!

Randal

• if he has any pimples on his face he definitely picks at them untill they pop

• either is really good at math or sucks at math and hates it. (No in-between)(leaning towrds sucking at math more)

• has tear stains on his homework sometimes

• he bathes everyday dispite what people think. (Luther forces him too)

• his hair gets really oily. He has tried to cook with the oil his hair produced once. Nobody ate dinner that night.

• if he's frustrated and you go to poke him he'll scream on top of his lungs, but like the scream that goes from normal yelling to banshee screeching. "stop touCHING MEEEEĚĘƏƏ!!!!"

• gets in a lot of internet arguments about things that don't matter at all ("I think you'll find it's 'whom'.")

• he'd get so mad if he ask you to hold his glasses, and you proceed to carelessly get your fingerprints all over them.

• draws with those "how to draw anime" guid books.

• if he ever took a driving test, he would have already failed the moment he opens the car door.

• loves kraft mac and cheese, double points if it's in shapes of popular marketable characters.

• now thinking of it, if he was a pasta dish he would be kraft mac and cheese.

• bites his toe nails off (gross) Luther tried to get him to stop but he probably does the same thing when no one is around.

• sneezes weirdly. Like..."ah...ah...AH CHOOwoowoowoowoo..." and shakes his head. Or if he's covering it in his elbow it'll sound like a trumpet horn.

Luther

• he can dance but it's weird.

• if you tell him a joke he'll turn it into a life lesson.

• he wins every staring contest. However if your eyes start watering he'll get worried and start begging you to blink.

• treats women (and everyone) with so much respect, but he won't hesitate to punch a women if he really has to.

• *shakes his indext finger* "no no no"

• Randal probably tried to set him up on a blind date, he didn't like that. It was very awkward to say the least.

• genuinely gets happy when there are bagels at the function.

• when asked for advice, it'll sound like he's going to say something really meaningful and life changing, but then does a complete 180. "Oh, you think your ugly? Well people will have their opinions about you and ...well... you aren't the best thing to look at. But there's worst out there ♡."

• I can see him gobbling up some cheese and broccoli.

• has a walk in closet filled with clothes and accessories he doesn't wear.

• he 100% definitely has the goofiest giggle in the planet.

• eats ice cream with his front teeth.

Nyon

• I will stand by this till the day I die, he's really funny. He has a really good sense of humor. But I could also seem him not understanding jokes too. But at the same TIIIMMEE I feel like he'd be naturally funny.

• he knows lots of slang and pop culture due to watching TV a lot and probably quotes stuff in his head. (Maybe out loud if he was talking to you)

• has a lot of opinions, will never say them out loud, even when asked.

• he's the smartest out of everyone, including Luther.

• easily amused. please give him one of those little fishy nightlights. He'd enjoy looking at it so much.

• he's good at card games and Nyen doesn't like that. (Nyen has stabbed him over games of uno)

• has a really funny looking smile. (There's that one drawing in the Christmas comic where he's smiling weird after he saw Luther's reaction to the fire place tape he made for him)

Nyen

• listens to death metal but then listens to a jpop song right after. ("Can't let gang know I fw this")

• good at math, sucks at reading.

• loves hearing about drama and will be nosy.(come on man he loves Judge Judy and romance novels)

• sounds like Tom from Tom and Jerry when he yells.

• he calls himself "The Tom Cat" and (canonically) "Top of the pets in the house hold" which is practically the same as "I'm the alpha" so he's probably has said that.

• sucks at card games. Will legit end up with half of the pack of cards in his hands in the middle of an uno game.

• actually the weakest of them all. (I won't go into all that right now. But I can definitely beat him up in a fight, just sayin.)

•him and Nyon probably have times where they stay up and chit chat for a bit before they sleep, Example (from my old notes I had):

Nyon high on weed:...why do we call oranges..oranges...but we don't call apples...reds..??..

Nyen:....sh*t...you got a point... does that mean we would call lemons: short yellows and bananas: long yellows so it doesn't get confusing?...

*they then discuss this for an hour or so*

• Snores really really LOUD. Sounds like a car.

• oddly very ticklish I bet.

~~~~~~

That's all I have now. It's 2 in the morning and I'm falling asleep. I might write other characters headcannons later.

"I'm going to sleep" -bop it

#ranfren #catmen #luther ranfren #luther von ivory #comic #web series #nyon ranfren #Nyon #nyen catman #nyen ranfren #Nyen #randals friends #randal ivory #ranfren randal #headcanon #Ranfren headcannons #i need to sleep now #yawn

[lunar-wandering]

every time i open tumblr i end up seeing a post or something or other that triggers my intrusive thoughts again. i really wanna come back but it’s becoming really difficult to manage to open up this site and feel happy about being here.

#vent #kinda i guess #you know. i used to never see negative posts or discourse or anything. now it seems like that's all that's ever on here. #and that's really not why i joined and stayed on tumblr #now its like every time i open this site or turn there's some argument and usually it's stuff i agree with #but sometimes it's stuff that's good on a surface level but underneath has MAJOR red flags #i've blocked more people this year than ever just because their ''informative'' fandom posts would get reblogged and end up on my dash #because they're so good at hiding their red flags under stuff that seems reasonable #i just. like yeah. there are some good posts that i agree with. but that doesn't mean that i want to be thinking about the arguments and- #and the people who are genuinely in the wrong/just straight up bad people all the time #tumblr was my place to relax but now it seems like everywhere there's an important take and someone who's clearly someone i should block #and bad news and bad events and things in like fandoms and stuff i'm not even connected to #and theres no engagement either. its just likes and likes #no reblogs with fun discussions #THATS what i was on tumblr for. #i miss it. having conversations through reblogs. created fun fandom theories and discussions and AUs #i miss doing that #i miss seeing that #now it's like nobody ever does it. or at least doesn't do it on here. #i don't feel like i've had fun participating in fandom on here in months. #it's just stressful now. #there's good people and things yes but the bad (which is actually a minority of things and people) is somehow overpowering it #mainly through good people not realizing they're encouraging bad people by trying to fight it #just. when something bad happens. block it and don't let it spread. #that's what you're meant to do. arguing or harrassing only makes things worse #but its just. it' really is all i ever see now #i miss my dash only being filled with art and fun fandom theories and headcanons and stuff #only there's no way to curate it to that now. im always going to end up seeing something i could've continued on not knowing about. #and i used to be better at coping with it #but after t h a t happened in july.......

[unproduciblesmackdown]

as ever like: no two things Need to be juxtaposed, much less like material vs material deathmatch Only One Can Be Good, much less am i thinking i have thee objective word on fuckall b/c who does and it's like perfectly boring & unserious whenever someone just throws out Takes that are just "i think...[xyz] is [adjective]" like okay.

but anyways thinking of how, though differing in execution in a lot of ways ofc, deh & bmc start out in a v similar place & explore a journey to self-acceptance from a despairing starting point....it feels like a lot of the hindrance in deh's exploration of its own Theme there is in like, hey. :) hand on your shoulder. it's okay b/c you'll be able to be more normal. whereas w/bmc it's that it's okay b/c you'll be able to be more abnormal

#like hell yeah. and Normality is fake the way that things like Gender is fake so. what's more universally relevant here #versus like. the idea that a winning takeaway re: deh is Talking With Your Parents / Kid like #yeah that could be an improvement? in other situations; that Talking is dangerous &/or just not going to happen / be irrelevant #meanwhile nobody is ''normal'' & the idea of Normality & its Moral Goodness / Requirement does affect everyone #meanwhile that bmc is clear on jeremy's gaining supportive relationships means support for his relationship w/himself #whilest he's also able to feel better insulated from feeling Defined by whatever instance of feedback/input #whereas with deh it's like. All These People....but log off & all you need is at least one parent who doesn't hate you No Matter What #including your unfortunate abnormality....Just(tm) make the phone calls am i right? well now he at least has a part time job #meanwhile difficult to compare w/e's going on w/zoe/evan vs mpdg4mpdg jeremy/christine. latter are cute & a coherent relationship #former are [nothing] to [i'm taking psychic damage] & fuck if i know what's going on besides The Ultimate Romance(tm) (negative) #he was a boy she was a girl they could politely tolerate each other's presence. maybe forever :') #i really don't know what's supposed to be going on there so like. for real share Any reasons you like each other in Either love song abt it #anyways like No Need To Compare but for me the juxtaposition is natural b/c it Does feel like they can be looked at re: a v similar Essence #but one is fumbling around w/it & really Not sticking the landing especially while the other just does exactly what it's trying to do #and ofc it could only help that deh had to go so far from the original [???] ideas & more Farcical approach #vs i don't think bmc's envisioning ever changed so fundamentally along its development at any point #like deh's story does feel like it still has the remnants of the earlier farcier versions even in its bway form #story of A Bunch Of Wild Shit Happens To Our Protag Whaaat & sure ppl are humanized but you still never made room for like a quarter of the #alana & jared? they're alright but they died #anyways & in all these things it's like It's Not A Big Deal lol i am not here to strive to have thee true & final word #right tf on if you as well know them both & like deh more / think It was the more successful execution of its story #though i have natural enemies like say [trt loyalists who are Like That] or forever [deh haters who are Like That]....we're different #erased a tangent also mentioning how i like the Parent Approach of mr. heere's arc better than any parents in deh lol. like of course #it's Not about his Feelings or being Imperfect or Human. like ofc he has the feelings & is human & imperfect #but he just gets energized & focused like welp bummer but ofc i gotta give my kid more support w/whatever he's going through rn #like hell yeah. one fun song we're good to go #bmc #deh

[jaysgirlx]

"Need help sweetheart?" Bookstore Customer!Jason Todd helps you reach the books on the higher shelves. You were his favorite employee and he wanted to make your day easier. He'd been coming here for a while but you always forgot how tall he was and how good his body felt pressed against yours. You only knew how to mumble out a couple words because you didn't know what else to say to a man like that. "Uh sir, you don't need to-"

"Please call me anything but sir sweetheart, you know I'm not new here"

Bookstore Customer!Jason enjoyed teasing his favorite employee aka you of course. He teases you about working at the bookstore even though he's constantly there and he'll always be flirting with you even if you're working the counter that day. He knows he's holding up the line but he's a paying customer so he doesn't care.

"How's my favorite pretty girl doing?"

"M'tired today Jay, I can't handle your nonsense right now"

"Okay that was mean- wait, Jay? that's a first"

"Buy a book or get out Jason"

You could easily tell Jason liked classics and poetry but for some reason he was willing to read your favorites even if they were a smut-filled mess. One time, he backed you up into a corner, after reading one of those books you liked, "Hmm, you like this kind of shit baby? cause I can do all that to you and so much more"

Over time, you learned that Jason also likes to follow you to the store, whispering to you about all the things he could do to you if you'd let him. His hand is always on your hips, pressing his body fully into you. He knows you like it especially when you roll your hips into his when nobody's looking. He wishes you'd use your words and just say you were his but he knew he wasn't even close to getting that, at least not yet.

Jason tried to buy a new book every week, sometimes not even to read. He needed an excuse to be there since your boss has never been fond of him ever since he had caught him feeling you up near the back shelves once. He learned his lesso so now he purposefully buys the books you like, just so he can watch you ramble on and on about them without getting kicked out of the store.

Bookstore Customer!Jason thrived on the feeling he got from watching you go from being so nonchalant around him to the most talkative girl in the world. he wants you comfortable if he's going to fuck you. You find yourself shutting up one time because you thought you had bored him but he quickly gets rid of that thought for you, "Keep talking sweetheart, I'm just wondering how pretty your mouth would look with my cock stuffed down your throat"

"Jay I don't- I can't- I haven't-"

"Don't worry, you will and I'm sure you're a fast learner"

It wasn't that hard for you to notice that Jason got a little jealous when his brother Dick hits on you the first and last time he brings him to the bookstore. Dick easily chats you up and Jason watches the two become a bit too friendly for his liking but it wasn't his place to speak, "Now I see why my little brother brings home so many books"

"It's good he does, I like guys who read"

"I actually quite the fan of classic literature-"

"Oh shut up Dick"

Bookstore Customer!Jason had all your coworkers wondering if you'll ever let the poor guy hit. They weren't sure if Jason was interested in you or your body, regardless they couldn't ignore the smile you got whenever he walk in. Or the way you'd laugh at his dumb jokes. You had him on a leash and you didn't even know what to do with him. He's begging to take you out or just even spent a night with you. He didn't just want you, he needed you. "C'mon I promise to take care of you princess, I'll even take you to that little coffee shop in Bludhaven"

"Who told you about that?!"

"…Dick"

When he finally manages to convince you to let him kiss you, you're nervous as fuck. You thought this was just another one of his antics but no, this was real. He'd promised to stop hitting on you if you felt nothing and you should've know it was bad idea when you could hear your own heartbeat still your let his lips touch yours. It was such a bad idea because before you knew it, he's got you pushed up against the wall, leg parting your thighs with your hands gripping at his shirt. "Jay, more please" Suddenly after all this time, you're pleading for him. Oh how the tables have turned. You're begging for all he's got, and you know he has so much more to give.

"Just give me a moment baby, got be patient" Within a matter of minutes your pants are discarded on the floor, and your panties are still on but being pushed aside while two fingers are being pumped in and out of your pussy. He's got one hand on your hips holding you down while one of your legs is wrapped around his waist. "Didn't I tell you I could do some much for you baby?"

You nod quickly while he's sucking on your poor neck, that would definitely be red all tomorrow. you feel his teeth sink into your skin, not too hard but rough enough to leave a mark. "Now keep quiet, I don't want any of your coworkers hearing us back here" The next thing you know you're cumming on the boy's fingers and he wants you to do it again. and again. and possibly 50 more times if you're willing.

The next time Jason comes, he's holding what you think is flowers and you know he'll be your victim today.

"So I thought real flowers would be cheesy and you'd probably not want to take care of em, so my brothers taught me how to make these paper flowers and…here just take them"

"Wow, I'm getting hand-crafted flowers from THE Jason Todd? Someone must have a really big crush on me huh? Are those bandaids on your fingers? Want me to kiss your boo-boos? "

"Are you going to finally go out with me or do I have to make you cum-"

"Yes yes! Just do not finish that sentence out loud"

"You are soooooooooo in love me"

"Jay, get out"

#✩ kleo's kollection ✩ #✩ here's a treat ✩ #divider by cafekitsune #jason todd #jason todd x you #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd x reader #jason todd smut #jason todd imagine #jason todd fanfiction #red hood #red hood x fem!reader #red hood x female reader #red hood x you #red hood x reader #red hood x y/n #red hood smut #red hood imagine #dc x y/n #dc x you #dc x reader #dc comics #dick grayson cameo #dick grayson is a professional yapper

[d10nyx]

don't hold your breath(nobody's home)

ft. leon kennedy x fem!reader

cw: 18+ content, dead dove, uncle-niece incest, non-con, loss of virginity, very minor blood description, forced alcohol consumption, alcoholism from leon ofc, reader gets slapped, age gap, guilt, one threat, fingering, p in v, non-consensual creampie, crying, idk leon feels entitled cause his brother sucks, reader hinted at having nice tits idk

a/n: sorry if this sucks ass... my motivation for writing has been non-existent w real life stuff n all the drama so... i feel like this is awful but here we are. title from razzmatazz by idkhbtfm... not proofread i'm sorry </3

word count: 1.9k words

Leon knew he had a drinking problem. He just hadn't realised it had gotten this bad. He couldn't even get his dick up with viagra anymore. He frowns as he looks down at the brunette he was planning to fuck, tempted to try and just push it in soft.

He ends up just kicking her out to drown his sorrows. He wasn't dealing with this shit tonight, not when he was seeing his asshole brother tomorrow. Pretty wife, perfect kids. His job pays better than Leon's ever will, and he didn't need to undergo years of trauma. Lucky bastard.

Leon does what he does best that night and drinks enough whiskey so he can pass out without worrying about the nightmares coming to ruin his night. 

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

He hasn't seen you in a good six years. You were still playing with dolls and shit when he last visited. Makes him feel stupid when he brings you a plushie as a gift. Clearly he forgot how time worked, cause he still expected you to be thirteen. You still hug him and say thank you, sweet as ever. When his brother said he'd be watching the house and looking after you, he didn't expect to see you so... grown. Too old to need a babysitter, really. Even if your parents are gonna be gone for a week.

He gulps as his hands settle on your hips, trying to prevent you from pressing against his hardening cock. Down boy. At least his dick still works. It just took his college-aged niece to get it up. Doesn't help that you've got your tits smooshed against his chest.

Therapy was gonna be a doozy this week.

He could only pray that this doesn't turn into anything. The last thing he needed was his dick being the thing that got him thrown into prison for doing something stupid to you, no matter how cute that body of yours is. That's a new one, he thinks, mentally slapping himself for even thinking about touching you like that. He'd never do it, of course. That's sick, and he knows it. He's just so frustrated. And you're hot. A total babe. Somehow, you managed to get a better rack than your mom. Must be the Kennedy genes coming in. Leon's got tits for days.

He knew he had a drinking problem, but he never thought he'd lose himself this much. He never thought about hurting anyone. He's not a bad guy. It's just that every time he tried to be with someone, he just couldn't get his body to react the way he wanted. That's what the oxytocin was for, he thought, already thinking about taking a swig of whiskey from the flask in his pocket. If only that fucking stuff worked on him. The part of his brain that controlled his cock seemed to be permanently on vacation, and his wires clearly got crossed somewhere if he wants to fuck his own blood.

Whatever. He could get through a week alone with his niece without any trouble. He's faced worse monsters than the ones making themselves present in his mind right now. He'd keep his distance, and all would be okay.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

That didn't work. Of course it didn't. You were just as clingy with him as you were when you were a kid, following him around like a lost puppy. He's convinced he's clutching the glass of whiskey in his hand hard enough to shatter it as you curl up against his side. His cock is throbbing, and he seriously hopes you don't notice how the fabric of his jeans is getting a little strained.

You really need to stop with those tits. He's gonna lose it if they brush his arm one more time. He's not sure what it is about you, particularly, that has him acting like a teenage virgin again, but his self-control is wavering by the second. He hasn't paid a single second of attention to the movie he was meant to be watching to keep his mind off of you.

Fuck this.

He takes a swig of whiskey that drains half the liquid in his cup in one gulp. Liquid courage and all that. Maybe he'd drunk a little too much while he was here, ‘cause his brain clearly isn't working right. Not when he's pinning you to the couch, kissing your neck despite your protests.

“Leon… Leon, what're you doing?” You force out, small hands pressing at his chest as if you'd be able to knock him off. Cute. He'd fought creatures six times your size. You didn't stand a chance. 

He starts undressing you, and you start writhing and crying, hitting his chest with clenched fists. He swallows the lump that builds in his throat, wiping the tears that fall down your cheeks.

“Shh… it's okay, I'm… I'm gonna take care ‘f you.” He murmurs, his voice slightly slurred from how much he'd drunk. You cry even harder when he presses a finger into you, making the guilt rise up faster in him. That's not fair. He's being nice. God didn't bless him with much, but at least he gave him a fat cock. You should feel lucky he's prepping you. Not making him feel bad.

“Hey.” He warns, shoving another finger in just to shut you up. You finch when he scissors you open. Poor thing. “That's enough. One more complaint for you, and I'll just force myself in.”

Shit. Now he really does feel like a monster. He's not drunk enough to handle the pure terror on your face at his words. He fumbles on the coffee table with his free hand as he lazily pumps into you with the other. Glass? No. Bottle.

Maybe you need some, too. Get you nice and pliant so you'll take his dick without bitching. Not a bad idea. He twists the cap off with his teeth, gulping some of the liquid down himself. He takes another mouthful before leaning down to kiss you, spitting the liquid into the back of your throat. He keeps your mouth on yours even as you try to jerk away, making sure you swallow it.

You really are adorable as you start coughing and spluttering. Such a sweet thing, you probably hadn't even drunk before. He lifts the bottle to your mouth, pouring some more into your mouth before setting it down, covering your mouth. “Swallow.”

He starts thumbing at your clit as he fingers you, relishing in the ways your whimpers turn into soft moans, your hips bucking against his hand. He manages to coax an orgasm out of you with a few more touches, a big smile spreading across his face.

“There we go, sweetie. See, that wasn't so bad, was it?” He coos, unbuttoning his jeans. The sound of the zipper has your eyes widening in horror, and he tuts softly. “What're you giving me that look for? It's your turn to take care of me now.”

There goes the begging and pleading again. It has his brows pinching together as a frown tugs at his lips. You really are his brother's kid. So goddamn ungrateful. He just took care of you, and now you just want him to… what? Fist his dick in the guest room?

He smacks you so hard your head snaps to the side, your breaths coming out in short gasps. You look better like that, tears stinging your eyes but your body completely limp. He can see the fight draining out of your eyes.

“I was gonna be nice.” He mumbles, brows furrowing as he lines his tip up with your entrance, forcing himself inside in one thrust. He groans loudly, shuddering as your tight heat envelops him. His eyes look down, locked onto your cunt as he fucks into you with long strokes. He freezes when he notices blood. He's not sure if he's happy or disgusted that he's your first. No wonder you put up such a fight.

You keep weakly begging him to stop, but your pussy is gushing all over him. It's not his fault he can't stop – you're giving him the hottest look he's ever seen, and your puffy cunt is so fucking greedy for his cock, sucking him back in everytime he starts to pull out.

“S-sorry… I'm so sorry…” He grunts, picking up the pace of his thrusts, groaning at the sound of your punched out moans as he drives into you with as much force as he can muster. You almost sound like you're enjoying it, but you're still fucking crying and he can't take it. His heart hurts.

“Baby, please…” He whispers, squeezing his eyes shut so he doesn't have to see the betrayal on your face. His arms tremble as he holds himself up, sloppily fucking into you. “I'm sorry… just stop cryin’, please…”

Every time his hips smack the fat of your ass, you're moaning out a ‘please’. With his eyes shut, he can pretend you're begging for more. That you like this. That is, until you start saying ‘stop’. He winces, but the movement of his hips doesn't falter.

“Fuck, baby… please stop begging.” He pleads, throwing his head back as his tip kisses your cervix. He whimpers as it makes you tighten around him, angling his thrusts to hit that spot each time he fully sheaths himself inside of you.

“I-I can't stop…you feel so… fuck. So fucking good. M'so close.” He groans. He can't even find the strength to pull out anymore. He buries himself balls deep in your cunt, grinding himself into your tight heat.

“L-Leon… please.” You say weakly, chest heaving with heavy breaths as panic sets in, your hands pushing at his chest. “Y-you gotta pull out, you can't… you can't.”

“What?” He breathes out, cracking his eyes open to look at you again. He looks genuinely confused. Why would he ever pull out when you felt so good? He can't bring himself to. “Baby, no. I'm cumming inside of you. Can't pull out now.”

That seems to bring your fight back. You start struggling under him again, punching him with all your strength. Luckily, that's not a lot. Especially when you're sluggish from your first time drinking and getting fucked. It's Leon's lucky day.

“Shit, baby. Don't look at me like that.” Or do. He's gonna cum if you keep staring up at him with that wide-eyed expression. “No need to be so scared, princess. I just… shit. Can't help myself.”

Doesn't take longer than a minute after that for him to finish. He buries his face in your neck, whining as he cums. His cock kicks inside of you, the warmth of his release filling every inch of you. You start sobbing all over again, slumping weakly against the couch.

He lies on top of you, his weight pressing you down into the couch. He pets your hair like you're a doll, his fingers carding through your hair.

“I'm sorry, baby. Forgive me. I'll be so good. Do whatever you want. Didn't mean it.” He murmurs, kissing your cheek over and over as if he's trying to get you to relax. He keeps it up until you fall asleep, wrapping you up in his arms.

When you wake up in the morning, you're fully dressed in your bed. You almost think it's a dream until you feel the dull throbbing between your legs.

#leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x you #leon kennedy smut #leon s kennedy smut #leon kennedy #tw dark content #dark content #dead dove do not eat #dead dove fic

[dudethatsmyundeaduncle]

DP X DC AU Danny & The Little Dead Girl

(title pending lol, Danny and Curare adventures pt 2!) Pt 1 here My AU art

__________________________________________

Monday comes, as it is won't to do, and Danny has to go to school which means the baby halfa has to come to school too.

" ok, so, one rule for today, big rule, you gotta be quiet in class. Uh-"

Danny pulls his phone out of his pocket as their bus hits a pot hole. Sitting right at the front means they catch the momentum first and he has to hold Curaré against his side lest she go flying into the aisle.

A couple voices grumble behind them at the jostling as Danny gets his text to speech open.

" Necessitas ser quieto en clase. ¿Entiendes?" The Google robot lady voice translates for him.

Curaré blinks at him from behind her little paper face mask and looks from the phone to him curiously.

This is the game they've been playing since last night, Danny says something in English robo lady repeats it in Spanish.

Danny doesn't know if Curaré understands how the phone speaks or even that it does but she's giving him her favorite little blank expression so he assumes she gets it. At least, she hasn't really disagreed or disobeyed anything he's asked of her yet so...not gonna look that gift horse in the mouth Danny boy!

..

School goes well, mostly.

They get through the metal detectors and bag checks at the front entrance just fine. The security guards barely glance at Curaré once they confirm she isn't hiding a Glock or something under her shirt. Which it's kinda sad to know gun control is a cross-dimensional American problem but it's on brand if nothing else Danny thinks.

They get to first period without stopping at Danny's locker and settle down in two desks by the back door. This is Danny's usual spot, well usual as of a month ago, it's mostly empty back here now but Danny used to have a seat partner.

(A seat partner who had a kind of shady tweaker vibe that Danny would have been worried about but that kid went home early one day and never came back so....it's Curaré's seat now.)

The little dead girl looks even littler sat in the desk-chair combo, she can barely see over the top. Danny stacks three dictionaries under her for a boost then he gets her set up with some pencils and paper and the single highlighter he found on the floor his first day here.

Curaré seems vaguely interested in his offerings ,after Danny shows her how to use them to mark the page, and starts creating cautious marks of her own.

She keeps glancing back up at Danny as if to confirm that this is still fine? And he nods his head every time trying to be encouraging as it becomes obvious that nobody taught this kid to write inside Fosters Home for Real life Assassins. Which Danny thinks is poor planning on there part because really? If your Assassin can't write how the fuck were they supposed to leave ominous threatening warnings? Or fake suicide notes? Or any number of written props to flesh out a cover story.

Whatever, obviously the assassins raising Curaré sucked ass all around so he can't say he's surprised but he is majorly disappointed.

As the bell rings for first period a whole slew of teens rush in ahead of the teacher Mr. Berk. Simple guy, grey beard, coke bottle glasses, smells like Vics vapor rub, the works.

He's like the most chilled out version of Mr. Lancer ever so he's alright in Danny's books. Plus he only has one "rule", as long as your butt is in your seat by the time he calls your name for attendance he won't mark you late. In Gotham, where everyone and their brother has enough late marks from shitty public transportion to get detention, it's a pretty sweet rule.

So Mr. Berk takes attendance like usual and only pauses on Danny and Curaré in the back for a brief moment.

Curaré stops drawing and stares down Mr. Berk like he's the T rex from Jurassic park. Frozen in place and without breaking eye contact. He stares back at her completely unphased.

" A small visitor then?" He says.

Danny nods. " My sister"

" Mhm" Mr. Berk says already moving on to the next student on his roster.

Danny breathes out huge sigh of relief, that was so much easier then he expected.

They more or less repeat this exchange the whole day. Mondays suck ass because it's one of the only days Danny actually has all 6 periods, but they make it through 1st, 2nd, and nutrition unscathed.

By lunch time Danny thinks they might actually be home free, if no one is gonna bring up the whole freaking child tagging along with him then he can probably just bring her with him everyday.

Maybe he can find her some work books and she can learn the alphabet? And addition? That's like on track for 4 year olds right? Danny can't remember being 4 but that feels right to him. He will educate the child in his care like the responsible almost adult he is. She will go to college!

At lunch Danny sits them at the back of the school right next to the teachers lounge because it's mostly deserted.

In Danny's exprience the best place to hide is in plain sight. He's been sitting here everyday since he enrolled himself and the teachers have never noticed him. Their way too busy trying to get any kind of break from teaching high schoolers to be concerned.Which Danny is greatful for because he has broken the rule about using his cell phone at lunch 50 times at this point.

Listen he has to do universe research when he has access to wifi! Which he only does at school. The administration should be glad he's using his lunch period to educate himself really.

So they eat by the lounge. Danny has Curaré face away from the door so she can take off her face mask and eat unencumbered.The cut on her face is still gnarly, it looks an almost enflamed purple as it tries it's best to heal.

Danny had given Curaré a little immuno-boost with his own ecto the night before to try to speed up her healing factor. But like any Halfa, basically just Danny's personal experience, you have to nourish the ghost half and the human half in equal parts to heal all the way.

It's not until home room, period 6/7, that the metaphorical straw breaks the metaphorical camels back. or the real straw to the metaphorical camel? Did camels even carry straw? where would it go? Between there humps? Not important Fenton!

Home room was a grade A disaster.

Mr. Perez, Danny's kind of ancient home room teacher, who was for almost all intents and purposes blind, had a freaking nose for trouble. It's like he could sniff out vapes and cell phones as soon as they hit the stale class air. Danny thought this would be the easiest class by far, Mr. Perez wouldn't even see Curaré let alone smell her.

And at first it seems like he doesnt, Mr. Perez takes attendance and skips right over Danny and Curaré with no fanfare.

Danny thinks that's the end of it and starts to breathe easy until 15 minutes before the final bell when Mr. Perez' TA asks him to step into the hallway with her for a second.

Danny generally liked Mr. Perez's TA, her name was Sabrina Kahn and she was the kind of girl Jazz would have hung out with.Straight laced, wore argyle cardigans, read books, the smart sort. She looked Jazz's age too, maybe 21ish and she always rolled her eyes when people gave dumb answers in class.

She looks a little embarrassed to be speaking to Danny which immediately sets him on edge.

" It's okay that you brought your little sister today but, I'm sorry, you won't be able to do that again. A bunch of your teachers made complaints with the front office and Mr. Perez got a call about it ..."

Sabrina had always been nice to him and now she was about to ruin his whole week.

" But Ms. Kahn-" Danny started.

She gave him a sympathetic look " Lemme guess, your parents can't take her to work so this was the next best option?"

Danny closed his mouth and nodded, that was actually a much better lie then he was gonna tell, thank you Ms. Kahn. ( But also Boooooo curse you Ms. Kahn!)

" Here, I know it can be hard to find childcare for metas, especially ones as ah-vibrant as your sister. My brother had the same trouble with my nephew."

Sabrina hands Danny a flyer, it's still warm from the printer, it looks like it's just a screenshot of an email.

"Thanks?"

The TA rolls her eyes, wow a lot like Jazz then.

" It's the address to that daycare and a referral. They only take kids by word of mouth, they're kind of... off the books. But their good people! I hope they can help you Danny."

The paper is on off yellow, as Ms.Kahn heads back into homeroom Danny feels all his hope go with her. Shit, what was he gonna do now? He looks through the little glass window in the door to the back where Curaré sits, she's already watching him. He tries to smile at her, be reassuring, he's not sure it works.

......

When the bell finally rings Danny picks Curaré up and puts her on his hip to avoid her being crushed by the rush of high schoolers who stampede out the door in front of them.

The flyer from Ms. Kahn feels like it's burning a hole through his pocket as they ride the bus towards the Narrows.

Danny cased the house from the flyer with maps street view as well as he could. It showed a skinny sublet house across from a small strip mall and laundrymat.

Inconspicuous sure, maybe even innocent looking but well...you could never tell in Gotham, all the buildings looked sort of evil by default. It was probably because of the gargoyles and the general low level stink fog that seemed to always be out.

The big city™ really made Danny miss the suburbs of Amity Park more then just the regular gut wrenching home sickness. Oh what'd he'd give to take a deep breath of air and not inhale the smell of piss when he walked down the street.

They get off the bus at the corner a block from the daycare.

Danny holds Curaré's hand which makes for slow going but seems like the right thing to do. She's never wandered off but Danny didn't want to give her the opportunity to either.

As he helped her climb the three short stairs up to the house Danny was suddenly hit with a wave of panic.

What the fuck am I doing? Am I really gonna take care of this freaking Halfa ghost baby for the next 18 years? Im not even an adult! I work weekends at BatBurger for minimum wage WTF?

Danny's hands began to sweat and his stomach cramped. Oh fuck, here was the existential crisis he'd been waiting for since he first decided to take Curaré from the leagues super secret baby basement.

Oh shit he couldn't breathe, what was he gonna do! OH fuck think!

What would jazz do? Call child services and offer psychological support. Not Uber helpful in this case Danny didn't know the first thing about psychology and Gotham CPS was actual prison.

What would Sam do? Assassin babies are hella counter culture but maybe find a cool rich eccentric family to adopt them? Nope, not gonna work Danny only knew one eccentric rich girl and she was a whole dimension away. FUCK THINK FENTON!

What would Tucker do? In this situation ask Google, homeschooling is big these days so maybe if you leave her in the apartment while your gone with an iPad-

" Hey you alright there dude, can I help you?"

Danny choked on the end of his anxiety panic badbadbad spiral and looked up.

The front door to the house was open and just inside the threshold stood a younger teen, maybe 16? With the kind of fade haircut Tucker always whined he couldn't pull off and a bright yellow hoodie.

Danny held his breathe for a moment making sure he felt it burn up his lungs and throat before letting out a big sigh.

" Yeah, yeah sorry kinda zoned out there I'm just uh kinda nervous I was told to come here for Daycare help for my little sister?"

Curaré looked at the stranger in the doorway with the same wide eyed blankness she stared at everything with. Funnily enough she was still holding Danny's hand, had held on through Danny's entire mental meltdown too despite the ecto sweat. Danny felt oddly touched by the gesture, even if it was more likely that the little girl wasn't bothered by his crisis then her being sympathetic.

The teen in the Yellow Hoodie raised an eyebrow at Danny as he fumbled the paper from Ms. Kahn out of his pocket to hand over.

Yellow Hoodie took it and looked between it, him, and Curaré.

" You're not a cop right? You have to tell us if you're a cop"

Danny made a face, " no, I'm not a cop! I would never be a cop, cops suck."

" Right." Yellow Hoodie said still suspicious " So you wouldn't mind if I called your referral up?"

" Be my guest dude."

The teen pulled out his phone and made sure to keep steady eye contact with Danny. Who could do nothing except not look away during this, the world's most impromptu staring contest, until Yellow Hoodie put his phone away.

" Just wanted to see if you were bluffing. Sabrina called earlier said she'd sent someone our way but you can never be too careful. Come on in. "

Danny felt the wind go out of his sails for the second time that day, what was with people and making him anticipate the worst.

.....

The inside of the house was old, homey, but old. It had very obviously been well lived in by a few generations of children, easy to see from the scuffed floors, chipped crown molding, and the sheer number of framed photos that hung on the walls.

There were signs of new life about too, some toys scattered on the floor, walls that were covered in butcher paper and crayon as high as little hands could reach, and oddly enough some scorch marks. Although, Danny's supposed that an unlicensed daycare for meta kids worth it's salt ought to have a least a few burn marks. For posterity if nothing else.

" I'm Duke, I volunteer here when I can but the place is run by the Mariscos, Mrs. Marisco specifically. She's been in the game for a long time" Duke nee yellow hoodie said as he stopped them in front of a closed door.

The hand made sign on the door said Office in nice scribbly lettering and it was hung on with a peg and twine. Real kitschy.

Danny could just make out the sounds of kids playing in another part of the house and was a little impressed that Duke had managed to keep Danny from seeing even one tiny tot during the impromptu house tour.

" I gotta go help Izzy with the kids, this is Mrs.Mariscos' office just knock before you go in, she might be on the phone."

Duke nodded to Danny, smiled down at Curaré and disappeared down the hallway.

Leaving Danny and Curaré alone in front of a closed door once again.

Danny looked down at Curaré and she looked up at him, she was characteristically silent.

" This feels like a job interview, did you bring your resume? "

Curaré blinked.

" Yeah, me neither. But I think if we both give her puppy eyes maybe our combined under aged-ness will activate her maternal instincts and she'll be forced to accept us?"

The nerves were back, they had never really left but now they had settled like a rock at the pit of Danny's stomach.

He couldn't bring himself to knock on that office door just yet so he fussed over Curaré instead. Kneeling down he straightened the collar of Curaré's hooded jacket and moveed her little backpack strap back up her shoulder where it had slipped.

" We got this. It's you and me now remember, even if this blows and you have to come to school with me for the rest of year it's you and me." Danny rested his hands on little shoulders and hung his head. " Jeez, I sound like my mom"

"No need to be so nervous Mijo! My Chiqis never met a kid she could turn away."

Danny's neck had never snapped up so fast in his life.

Curaré hadn't been looking up at him at all. No, Curaré was staring up towards the elderly woman floating near the ceiling.

Which was not great, because Danny for all the time had spent in Gotham had never seen another ghost. Not a single one.

Which was unsettling on its own but not bad per se, he'd thought maybe this dimension was just different, not enough spectral energy to manifest a ghostly body.

But no, again nope, this was so much worse.

No ghosts was easy enough to reationalize but one ghost? One ghost meant there was enough spectral energy, one ghost meant something was really really wrong with Gotham.

Because if there was only one ghost in a crime ridden pissed off city like this where the shit were all the others?

--------------------------------------------------

Yo! Just wanted to say thank u for all the support on part 1, did not expect people to like or care about it lol. Anyway back on bullshit, I've had this written for a while but didn't have the insp to post it until now.

Might write more, might not, you get one bat cameo for reading this time ur welcome.

Forgot to add this to the first post, it's in the reblogs, but TLDR Curaré is an assassin from batman beyond.

Note: if you wanna see cool art for this AU check the Danny and the little dead girl tag on my blog!

#danny phantom #danny fenton #dp x dc au #dpxdc #dc x dp #DP x DC #batman #Curaré #batman beyond #duke thomas #danny and the little deadgirl au #i really gotta think of a name for this AU if its gonna be a thing #do i have a plan for this? no no i do not #i have a vague idea about what happens in this universe and no real motivation to write it #batfam

[luveline]

how r our kbd babies doing today?

kisses before dinner —the harrington's recuperate at the end of a long week. 2k, mom!reader

“It's not so bad,” you murmur. “Just a little sting.” 

Avery looks up at you with eyes widened. She couldn't look more like Steve. “How little?” 

Bethie snores on your chest. You're laying in bed, Avery sitting on the floor in your room with a teddy in her lap. You'd pull her up into your bed if there were any room, but with Beth's leg hanging off of your hip and Steve curled toward you like a question mark, there isn't space to spare. 

“They call it a sharp scratch.” 

Avery came in with big questions this morning. Mom, what does a needle feel like? 

“Does it leave a hole?” she asks. 

“No, just a tiny dot,” you say, rubbing Beth's back. She's very warm, worryingly so. “Can you pass me Bethie's thermometer?” 

“Will you ask me nicely?” she asks. 

“Please could you pass Bethie's thermometer, my love?” you say. She smiles, indulged by your sweetend tone, and crawls forward to rifle through the mass of things you've accrued during Beth's flu and subsequent, semi-permanent stay in your bed after her last few days in hospital. Vitamins and mapap, melted cool packs and Dove's rainbow bear. She doesn't really know what's happening, but she knows her sister needs support right now, and so she's parted with her favourite bear. 

Nobody ever mentioned how many plush animals you acquire when you have children. They're everywhere. At least two in each room. 

“Can I put it on her head?” 

“Sure,” you say, brushing Bethie's hair back to give Avery an uninterrupted landing pad. “Be nice, baby, please.” 

“I'll be so nice,” Avery promises. She reaches up, tall on her knees, and smooths the thermometer patch over Beth's forehead. 

“Thank you. Kiss?” 

Avery gives you a kiss. Together, you watch the thermometer respond to Bethie's skin, and when the gauge hits the red that demonstrates much too hot, you bite back a spike of panic. 

“Is she okay?” 

“Yeah, she's okay.” You put your arm firmly behind Bethie's back and sit up with a wince. Steve stirs beside you. “Steve? She's getting hot again.” 

He grunts in his dozing. You nudge him. You'll say sorry afterwards; this is not a nice way to wake up. 

“Steve,” you say. Though it certainly isn't nice, you know he'd prefer to be woken up. You shake him by the shoulders.

He coughs as he wakes, “What? What?” he asks. 

“She's at 101 again.” 

Steve takes your wrist into his hand. He snaps into dad mode quickly. “That's fine, honey. 101 is fine. She's not a baby anymore, just take her blanket off and I’ll go get another cool pack.”

“Are you sure?” 

His voice is gravel. “I promise she's just fine. We don't have to take her back to Urgent Care unless she's at 102 for two days in a row.” 

And you already knew that, but you needed him to tell you. You lean down and rub your nose into Bethie's crown. “Okay,” you say shyly. Shouldn't have woken him. Shouldn't have panicked. 

“You okay, mom?” 

Steve peeks over your body to see Avery sitting on the floor. “Avery! My favourite toast maker, do you want breakfast? Let's make toast and get Beth some ice.” 

Steve leans in to kiss you, then Beth. “Stay here.” 

“No, it's okay, let's go downstairs.” You don't meet his eyes as you say it. You just don't want to be away from him lately. 

“...Okay, no worries.” He yawns and puts out his arms for a transfer of the sleeping child. “Did you brush your teeth, Avey-bear?” 

“No,” she says happily. 

He heaves Beth into his arms, her head falling into the curve of his neck. It would've been nicer if he had a minute to come to, but he hasn't had time to himself in days, and he doesn't complain. Steve just holds Bethie close and gets to starting the day. “After breakfast, then. Come on, sweetheart.” 

It takes you a few seconds to realise he's talking to you. Your face feels hot. “Coming.” 

You make sure Wren's baby monitor is on and leave her sleeping in her crib though she's destined to wake up any time now, putting the twin in your pocket. Steve ushers Avery down the stairs first, following her with Beth cemented to his front as you check on Dove. She's awake but laying down still, blanket tucked to her chin and one of her small feet sticking out of the side. 

“Hello,” you say, feeling the aches and pains of the last week echoing through your back as you lean against her door. “Good morning, beautiful.” 

“Good morning,” she says back. Then, with a squint. “Yo'r leaving?” 

You giggle at her funny pronunciation. “Not today. You want to come have breakfast?” 

“Carry me,” she says, kicking off the blankets. 

“Where's your sock?” You cross the room to pick her up. You don't want to carry her, it seems that the majority of your life is spent carrying these kids with legs of their own, but then you pick her up and feel her weight against your chest and don't mind so much. “Say? Where's your sock?” you ask, tilting your head to her. 

“I had hot toes when I was– when I was sleeping.”

“Yeah? How are they now?” 

“They're fine.” 

You hook your index finger into her sock and pull it off. 

“Can I have,” —she drags her nose against your shoulder— “waffles with syrup?” 

“I think daddy's making toast.” 

“...with syrup?” 

“Whatever you want,” you say, dropping her sock on the floor for later laundry and carrying her down to the bottom of the stairs. She lounges in your arms. 

From the stairs, you turn right into the hallway, which branches into both the living room and a small hallway to the kitchen. You go into the living room (which also, conveniently, connects to the kitchen), and find Bethie deposited on the big bean bag where she likes to nap, Steve kneeling by her side, a cool patch in hand as Avery fiddles with the TV. 

“Are you feeling okay?” he's asking her, putting the patch on her forehead.

She smiles at him with a gaze clear enough to take some of the worry off your shoulders. “Yeah, daddy, just cold.” 

“I know. You try and keep this on for me a little while so we can keep your temperature down, and I'm gonna go make you some breakfast. What sounds nice? You want jam and toast like Ave?” 

“Can I have a… a peanut butter sandwich?” 

He smiles at her like she's given him the secrets of the universe. “Yes. Absolutely you can.” 

“Breakfast on the couch?”

Perfect. You put Dove on the couch next to Avery and turn the TV down to a quieter volume than usual. Bethie shivers at the cool pack but doesn't complain again, her attention drawn to the morning cartoons. 

Steve's multi-tasking already as you prop open the kitchen door. Toast down in the toaster, elbow deep in a sink full of dishes. “Don't do those, I'll do them,” you say, “just make Beth her sandwich.” 

“I got it. You make the sandwich, babe.” 

“You make it.” 

Steve turns around. He dries his hands. “Who the fuck are you talking to?” he asks, eyes wide and lips parted in a dramatised shock. “Me? Are you taking that tone with me?” 

“Shut up,” you say. 

He grabs you by the waist to pull you in. “You used to be such a nice girl, you'd make me cookies and ask me over for dinner, and when I'd take you out you'd try to hold both of my hands–” 

“What does that have to do with anything?” you ask, startled and flush with remembering. You're still young, but you'd been so young. You love him more now than you ever did back then, but it's hard to forget the young love feeling of needing both his hands in yours, in wanting people to know you were together, but mostly of hoping he'd not want to let go of them. 

“It means you used to be nice and now you suck,” he says, using the height he has over you to glare down at you. It doesn't last, five seconds at most. “Sorry, I didn't mean that.” 

You laugh and put your hands around his waist. None of you look put together. His shirt is one of yours, your pyjama pants are about eight years old and don't fit right. Dove is in one of Bethie's nightgowns and Avery's trousers are a yard too short. Beth fares better in new pyjamas from her favourite uncle Eddie (please get well soon, baby Harrington), but they're ready for a wash. They all need baths. 

“Today is gonna be a long day,” you say, blowing a breath against his throat just to see what he'll do. 

Steve puts his arms over your shoulders. “I don't want a short one if it's with you.” He smiles, knowing it's a good line. “Can we still kiss?” 

You used to have a ‘I haven't brushed my teeth’ rule, but more and more life together erases the embarrassment. “One. Close-lipped.” 

“Yes sir,” he says, kissing you chastely. He makes it a good one, very loving, very can't-believe-I-get-to-be-loved-by-you. 

You figure you might as well tell him so, in a way. “Steve?” 

He steps back. You have the same idea at the same time, arms bashing into one another as you try to smooth his hair and he attempts to stroke your forehead. 

“Yeah?” 

“I'm sorry if I've been a lot. I know I haven't been as, you know, strong as you have. With Beth being sick.”

“You don't have to be,” he says. He talks gently, but there's more emotion in his eyes, a softness. “I can take care of all of you, I can. I wouldn't keep having kids if I didn't know I could take care of them and you.” 

“But we're a team.” 

“Yeah, we are, and I couldn't do any of this without you, but you don't have to worry about being strong. I can be enough for both of us while you're not feeling so sure.” He grabs your hand where it brushes his hair down. “Don't mess with my volume.” 

“Steve, you couldn't have less volume right now.” 

“I love you, and it's not just… comfortable. It's not just because you're the mom of my kids, or because it's been years. That stuff's obviously true, but I still love the girl who wants to hold both of my hands at the same time. I'd do this for you even if they weren't my girls, but they are, and you are, and it's not something you need to be sorry for.” He goes a little red at being so open. He doesn't know how endearing it is. 

The toaster pops and makes you both jump. “Shit,” he says, turning around and sadly out of your arms.

“Are you burning the toast?” Avery shouts. 

“Daddy's making a campfire in the kitchen,” you say cheerily. 

Steve laughs infectiously, pulling the toast out with a knife. “I guess we get breakfast first today.”  

You creep up behind him. “I love you so much,” you say, punctuating with a kiss to his warm cheek. 

He abandons the toast as quickly as he'd tended to it to grab you for a squeeze. You groan as everything clicks and he leans into you, pressing love you's with every breath into the side of your head. “Things have been the worst but they're the best ‘cos we're together!” he insists. “You freak me out sometimes being sorry for stuff, why are you sorry? You could totally clock out and I wouldn't get mad, I worry about you. I've always worried about you and I'm gonna worry ‘till I die, I want to.” 

“Don't wind yourself.” 

“You're gonna make me crazy,” he says, kissing your jaw. “You really are.” 

He hugs you for ages. Long enough that you end up eating chewy toast, but the girls get fresh toast and peanut butter sandwiches alike, so everything works out in the end.

#kisses before dinner universe #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #stranger things #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem!reader #dad!steve harrington #dad!steve harrington x reader #dad!steve harrington x mom!reader #steve harrington x afab!reader #afab!reader #mom!reader #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fandom #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington fluff

[cybertronian-reader-imagines]

How about someone who was recently turned into a Cybertronian and Team Prime tended to and comforted them? They have a lot of adjusting to do! 👀

TW: A bit of implied disassociation because, holy shit, suddenly you're a giant metal robot and that's kinda hard to wrap your newly non-organic brain around.

((Knock Out is here because there is not enough Autobot!Knock Out and I love him.))

Team Prime comforting Reader, who just got turned into a Cybertronian, would include...

Optimus reassures you from the first moment that you have a safe home with Team Prime, should you choose to stay with them. Of course, you do. He makes sure you have the time and space to adjust and be comfortable with your new body before jumping into anything. He's just there if you need him, which some days is more helpful than everyone's else's efforts to offer unsolicited advice right off the bat.

Bumblebee helps you adjust to having wheels by challenging you to races that double as training whenever possible. He is almost certainly going easy on you, but nobody ever tells you as much.

Bulkhead is the first to realize that maybe you just really need a damn hug right now, if only because he's not very good with words. He hugs you and reassured you that it will be okay, and you're amazed how warm and fuzzy you feel afterwards, even though you're fairly sure your new body doesn't actually feel such minute temperature changes.

Ratchet tries to be "comforting" by explaining how your new body works... in detail that goes way, WAY over your head. But eventually, you get him talking about Cybertron's history and culture, and realize that your two species aren't all that different after all, which helps more than an anatomy lesson ever could.

Smokescreen is quick to remind you that you don't have to go back to your boring human school/job/house/whatever. Depending on how much you liked/disliked your old life, this is either incredibly helpful or incredibly irritating. If you get upset with him though, he's quick to apologize, and it's hard not to be comforted by that well-meaning smile and a servo patting your shoulder.

Arcee might somehow be even more protective of you than she is of the humans - she knows what happens when bots overestimate how much they can handle, and she figures that's really easy to do when you go from being a tiny, fragile human to a giant robot. Sometimes it's hard to hear her remind you that you're still mortal, but she means well. "Okay Mom, I get it."

Wheeljack, like Bulkhead, isn't very good with words, but he's also not very good with affection. What he can do, however, is listen. He's there the first time you get frustrated with the rest of the Team - not because they truly did anything wrong, but because being cramped into a tiny base with people you've just met will irritate anyone - and he never breathes a word of what you vented to the others. The Wreckers had their spats too - he knows you'll all be cool at the end of the day.

Oh Primus help Ultra Magnus he doesn't have a comforting servo in his body, but at least he's honest about that. In fact, he's the best bot to go to when you're ready to have things less sugarcoated.

Knock Out doesn't understand what the fuss is about - why would anyone ever want to be a squishy, gross organic when they could be Cybertronian? Humans couldn't turn into cars, for one, and couldn't be polished. He gives you a fresh coat of paint and polish and tells you how much better you look now - it does help, in a way. Being able to pick out new paint makes you feel a little more like your new body is really your body.

But honestly? Your biggest comfort might just be Jack, Miko, and Raf, if only because they will remind you any time you so much as frown just how cool being a giant robot is. And then you remember, yeah, it is pretty cool, actually.

#EVERYONE is here! #platonic #x reader #tfp x reader #transformers x reader #maccadam #optimus #bumblebee #bulkhead #ratchet #smokescreen #arcee #wheeljack #ultra magnus #knock out #jack #miko #raf #cybertronian reader

[aclockmaker]

Part 2 now here

Okay to expand on this I just think: Steve who’s been in a couple of tv shows and is having a moment, famous offscreen for his hair and his charm and onscreen for his ability to find chemistry with anyone (and also, again, his hair).

And Eddie who is a complete unknown; he’s been in some stage productions and had the tiniest bit parts on TV but nobody’s ever, like, recognized him on the street.

Eddie auditions for a new HBO show. When his agent tells him that Steve Harrington is already attached Eddie is like cool, I’ll never get this part but the audition will be good practice so why not. They’re never gonna cast him. He’s sure he’s playing it too weird, and he hasn’t cut his hair (but he will when a part needs him to) but then he gets a callback. Twice.

And then he’s getting called in to do a chemistry test with some of the other actors. The show is like a modern Freaks and Geeks but with a slow burn murder mystery, and Eddie’s actually dead in the main timeline but about half the show is told in flashbacks so it’s a big part. When he meets Steve he doesn’t know what he’s expecting from the paparazzi darling but the guy is super genuine, makes Eddie feel way more comfortable than he has so far. They do their read together and Eddie is just thinking to himself like… damn, this guy really is good, because that felt crazy. He’s acted opposite some insanely talented people but it’s never been that easy. That must just be what it’s like working with Steve.

And now it’s dangerous because he really wants the part. He wants to stop bartending to make rent. He wants to be on this show, because the pages he’s seen are good, and he thinks he could really bring something to it. And because he wants to work with Steve. And even the rest of the cast, too, but—

The day Eddie gets the part he gets a text from a number he doesn't know. Hey man, really looking forward to working with you. And then, a few minutes later, It's Steve btw. He's smiling down at his phone so much that his agent, whose office he's in, is like "What, did you just score another life-changing opportunity I don't know about?" And Eddie is like "Nope, just the one, uh—it's just my uncle saying congrats. Anyway—"

They don't make him cut his hair. They don't tell him to stop playing it so weird. Everything goes so well that it feels fucking hard to believe, in fact, like he's just waiting for the other shoe to drop. There's one group of them playing seniors in high school, the main foursome of which is Eddie, Steve, and their two girl costars, Nancy and Robin. And then there's a younger group playing freshmen whose story intersects with theirs.

His and Steve's characters are set up as opposites, almost rivals, and at least at first, you're presumably supposed to wonder if it's Steve's rich, popular guy who's killed Eddie's character. Nobody in the cast knows the truth yet; the scripts get revealed to them as they're shooting them and they've been told the murderer won't even be revealed in the first season (so here's hoping they get renewed, because Eddie would really like to know who killed him—and he'd also like to keep making HBO money).

Their scenes are some of Eddie's favorites to film (although he also has a soft spot for the kids—especially Dustin who plays a hilarious and awesome nerd who does D&D with Eddie's DM). Eddie hopes his and Steve's stuff is working on whatever level they ultimately need it to work on—sometimes they do get notes that tell them to pull back or dig into something, to emphasize something else, so he has to trust that they're doing the right things.

They often film out of order so when they eventually film the scene where Eddie and Steve's characters have their first run-in at school, it's far from the first time they've shot together. They get all up in each other's faces in the scene, and they've run the lines, done a table read, but acting it out at full intensity is. A lot. Steve's character is mad because he thinks Eddie's character is trying to steal his girlfriend (really she was just buying drugs from him). The way Steve plays it is all simmering intensity, the threat of violence just under the surface, and this is where Eddie doesn't know if he's reading something into it that isn't there. Because for him, there's also another kind of tension between them. And he doesn't know if it's his real life bleeding into the character; if it's just how Steve can't help being with everyone; or if it's a legitimate part of the scripts that they're supposed to be picking up on and exploring. He doesn't even know if anybody else sees what he does. But they do their takes; nobody tells him he's doing something wrong. And after the director calls cut the first time, Steve winks at him. Just to cut the tension, Eddie thinks, maybe to make him smile, which it does. It's fun watching Steve work, watching him slip into and out of character. He's really easy to work with.

Sometimes they get together to run lines or talk motivation or whatever. “It's crazy, you know," Eddie tells Steve in his trailer one night. Steve's is bigger so all of them usually hang out here. They've been making each other laugh, shooting the shit about increasingly funny backstories for their characters, and Eddie feels high with it. "I mean, you know this is my first real show. It's like—" he gestures between them, trying to encompass everything that happens on-camera and all the fun of working on that off-camera. "I didn't know it would be like this."

"Oh—yeah, man," Steve says and laughs a little self-deprecatingly, running a hand through his hair. "But, I mean, for me, I've done a couple and, with our stuff—it’s never been like this with anyone else, either.”

It's going to be so hard, Eddie thinks, looking back at him, to not read into that more than he should.

#steddie #steddie ficlet #steddie fic #actors au #if you have a good idea for their names on the show please speak right up i'm not sure what i'm feeling #would love to connect it to st somehow

[heartfullofleeches]

Clown Reader's biggest fans-

Interviews have never been easy- When you're on set the camera just disappear, but surrounded by all these blistering lights you feel singled out. It's different from being the center of attention and more like you're in the middle of an interrogation.

The interviewer checks through their notes. "Now, Y/n - While doing some research into your show, our team happened to notice there are three reserved seats in the crowd at all given times, but nobody ever sits in them. Who are they for?"

Your relief is palpable. At least they were starting off with simple questions. "Oh! They're for Bebe, Grinny, and Charlie."

The interviewer scans through the papers, brows raised. "Grinny?"

"They're my friends. My starting crew if that makes things easier, but they mean so much more than that. When I was began my career as a entertainer they were the ones I brought with me to help with the kids. They're a bit worn out now and a little scary to the little tikes so the producers wouldn't let them join me on the show, but it's not like I'd just leave them behind."

"Uh-huh.... Go on?"

"Bebe is the jokester of the group. She's this clown doll I got as a yard sale with stretchy arms and legs. She gives the best hugs and always knows how to make me laugh when I'm down. I still get my best material from her. Grinny is a bit of crybaby. He's a puppet with the biggest smile, but don't let that fool you. He taught me and the kids it's okay to not to not always feel happy. Charlie.... Charlie is my guardian angel. They've always watched over me and been my voice of reason. They're a mannequin I glued wings and a bunch of eyes on when I was bored. I don't know where I'd be without any of them. We've been through thick and thin, and thinner together. It"s save to say they're my biggest fans...."

You slap your hands over your mouth. "Ah! Please don't release that part. I'd hate for the kids to get jealous, haha!"

"We'll cut it out in editing. Thank you, Y/n. We'll take five to let you get some air."

"Alright." Excusing yourself from the table, you walk over to the opposite side of the stage - stepping behind the curtains leading to the dressing rooms. The door to your room is slightly ajars - large button eyes peaking from the crack.

"Bebe!" Rushing over, the large doll falls into your arms as you swig the door open. Her arms rest over your shoulders as you support her weight - sewn lips pressed to your cheek. Laughter erupts from your chest as you attempt to push her back into the room only for her to fall right back into your arms.

"I missed you too, but at least let me get through the door first. Were you eavesdropping again?" The doll doesn't answer as you scoop your arms beneath her legs and carry her inside. The camera crew had been known to move your dolls around to mess with you before so her off placement doesn't surprise you. You carry her over to the couch where Grinny laid on the pillow you always used for your naps. He never faired well without you so it was the best thing for him. Charlie was always off on their own. Bebe does get on their nerves, but you know it's because they miss you too and want to be alone with their feelings. You wheel the mannequin from beside your dresser and over to the couch as you then crawl upon in between the doll and the puppet.

"Thanks for always being here for me, guys. I owe it all to you. Please wake me up in five minutes, Charlie."

You close your eyes as you rest your head on the cushion of Bebe's soft body - a plush hand stroking through your hair as you drift off to sleep.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere headcanons #yandere scenarios #yandere imagines #yandere oc #yandere insert #yandere blurb #clown reader #yandere drabble #soft yandere

[cuubism]

unhinged dreamling modern au #409430950

the bachelor

dream is bribed, threatened, and/or physically dragged by his ankle into being on a dating show by death and desire (for very different reasons, death just wants him to be happy and is very very desperate at this point, desire's just fucking with him again), and needless to say dream is not the target candidate for this. at all. sure he's pretty and rich but he's also a complete asshole. this is destined to go poorly.

(unless you're the show's producers who just want an unhinged television trainwreck that keeps people in their seats, in which case it's fucking fantastic)

hob is also there as a contestant because he's bored, single, and always willing to do something stupid. everybody on the show is taking it seriously except for dream, who'd rather jump off a cliff than be here right now, and hob, who's just entertaining himself.

dream: this is stupid (hateful) hob: this is stupid (having the time of his life)

needless to say this whole thing is a disaster. normally contestants are clamoring for the 'bachelor's' attention but dream just keeps being an utter jerk to everyone, making them cry, and causing them to actually drop out of the show. contestants: "i'd rather die than be with you." dream: "glad we're finally on the same page." like. dream doesn't even have to actively eliminate people. they just eliminate themselves because he's so insufferable.

hob isn't put off, though, this whole thing is hilarious to him. dream tries scaring him off and hob just laughs like "oh you're so cute, this is great"

dream: i hope you die hob: you want me so bad it makes you look stupid

the more people drop out of the show the more time dream and hob end up spending together, by necessity. unfortunately for dream's sanity hob is actually very charming and fun and inexplicably good at getting dream to smile. they have at least one proper heart-to-heart and hob is so kind to him, and dream hates him soooo much for it.

(of course he actually likes him, and it's the worst thing that's happened to him, maybe ever. he's in agony. he wants off this ride, please. maybe he wants on a different ride ahem.)

so now hob's properly invested in this stupid game, he's like oh that wretched stick of a man is mine (literally nobody is challenging him but he's being super competitive about it anyway). all it really results in is dream being MORE of an asshole both to hob and to everybody else. (dream: one time i had a crush on this guy and i didn't know how to handle it so i just wrote him a letter saying get out of my tv show). and yet every week dream could eliminate hob from the show but he never does...

anyway soon enough literally every other contestant has dropped out of the show and it's JUST hob remaining and he basically wins by default. dream absolutely will not be beaten or outdone and is like fine hob i'll call your bluff. marry me if you're so committed to winning. hob's like, bet :) (see: always willing to do something stupid).

they do in fact get married because they're both incapable of conceding defeat. then they're like well. what do we do now...

dream: going to divorce me now and take half of my money? run with your spoils? hob: idk, are you going to divorce me and finally 'free yourself from the torment of my presence'? dream: *sniff* then you would win hob: then i bet i can stay in this relationship longer than you :) dream, gritting his teeth: bet

anyway they manage about two months before dream, perpetually in agony over how aggressively he's into hob, is like fine, i concede, i can't take it anymore. leave me if you want, take my money, i do not care, only free me from this pain. hob: so... i win? i get to choose the prize? dream, utterly defeated: whatever you want hob: okay! and he kisses him

#today i bring more nonsense #tomorrow the same #dreamling #also i've never watched the bachelor in my life

[adventuringblind]

Viva Las Vegas

Landoscar x Reader

Genre: Fluff? Crack? Idek...

Summary: Two boys can't get a hint, and the female in the middle is just waiting for them to make a move. Preferably with her ending up between them.

Warnings: spicy, kind of panic attack? Allusions to sex, alcohol consumption, mentions of Lando's crash, and him being on pain meds.

Notes: Reminder that my requests are open for the 1000 follower celebration! Also, a certain someone put this idea in my head so now you all have to suffer.

Masterlist

Being the baby of the paddock really hadn't been that bad. A year younger than Arthur and having to put off with Charles was never on her top list of things she wanted to do, but she managed. Followed him around races like a lost puppy.

She was a perfect angel. Kind of. Not really, but she put on a good face when in public. Charles' perfect baby sister.

Lando Norris got to see a whole other side of her. The side that the cameras and public don't see.

The side that takes risks and tests the limits. The one nobody else has managed to pull out of her. The one Lando seems to make being so incredibly easy.

Charles adores the two of them. Lando would never hurt her. He may be impulsive, but he's loyal to a fault.

A couple of years later Is when Oscar comes along. Lando's new teammate. It's awkward for exactly two months into their work together.

Lando didn't like what happened to Daniel. He was still upset about it when word got out that Oscar had signed. It didn't feel real at the end of the year.

Then something shifted. Maybe it was the shared frustration of such a horrible start to the season? She may never know. But one thing is certain and it's that they like each other.

Oscar likes Lando. Lando likes Oscar. They both like her, and she loves them right back.

Yet she could not, for the life of her, forgire out why neither of them is saying anything about it. One can really only handle so much sexual tension before they explode. The sweet moments between the three of them. The fact she has attempted to get the both riled up with nothing to show for it except what Lando does to her later and Oscar's stupid smug face just playing alone with sarcastic jokes.

They are going to be the death of her. The two of them are attached at the hip, and she's excitedly making popcorn thinking it's going to turn into a romantic comedy. It doesn't, and she would like whoever is directing the movie to hurry the story along.

Both her and Lando are getting under his skin, and it's evident in every interaction they have. She takes it upon herself to invite Oscar everywhere with them.

They are happy all together. If they would just stop being so oblivious it would be perfect.

Then Vegas happens. The place where memories are made and forgotten. Lost in the music, lights, and alcohol.

The car isn't the best here. Both boys are frustrated. Lando crashes, and Oscar manages, but it's written on his face that he's disappointed with himself.

She goes to Lando at the hospital. Then, when he's released and thoroughly medicated, they head back to the paddock.

He's hilarious. Lando and his already unfiltered mouth are just saying everything. Including every feeling he has ever had for both her and Oscar. It started fine and then escalated Shortley after to the point where Jon had to promise he wouldn't ever mention it.

Oscar runs through media duties with an unholy speed. He looks relieved when he finds the two waiting around by his door because Lando didn't want to go to his own.

"I'm sorry it's been a lame birthday weekend." Sighs the Aussie who has collapsed onto the sofa.

"Well- it doesn't have to be."

Should the two not on any kind of medication used their clear judgment? Probably, but who are they to deny Lando?

They did decide on keeping it chill and just to go out for an hour or two after Lando at least napped off some of the meds. Neither of the sober minds had any intention of mixing alcohol with whatever Lando was on.

The Brit looked so excited to be out with them. He openly expressed he didn't need anybody else because his two favorite people were already with him. Oscar replied with a smile. She's going to have to force them to kiss at this rate.

Somewhere between three drinks in and Lando sipping on something not strong came blurred confessions. Whatever Lando had told Oscar he was drinking definitely was stronger than he'd made it out to be.

Her boyfriend keeps throwing her mischievous looks and suggestive eyebrow raises. What kind of game is he playing at? She would love if he let her in on it.

But alas, Lando does not, and she is left to her drink and her mind as she watches the two refuse to do anything about the tension they are creating. It's getting far too much for her. She either needs Lando to make a move on Oscar or to come help her because her imagination is going to places.

Somebody does kiss her, but it's not Lando. She would be concerned if Oscar hadn't just moved closer to her.

Everything goes fuzzy after that.

~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning is met with ridiculous hangovers and a cramped position on the couch.

The couch? How on earth did she end up here? More importantly, why is Oscar using her like a blanket and Lando a starfish on the floor?

Her breath quickens. Something must have happened for them to end up here. She pulls herself up and almost passes out in the process. She would like to - no - needs to remember what happened. She finds her phone laying on the counter and opens it.

Her hand hits the counter and there it the sound of metal hitting granite. She shakily moves her hands into view.

Of all the stupid and impulsive things, she could've done, it had to be getting married in Vegas and being too drunk to remember it. Looks like George, Alex, and Lily were there, the three people who really should've stopped her.

But it's not that realization that makes her finally curl up on the ground, It's the name on the certificate.

Oscar Piastri.

She can hear both boys starting to stir and wake themselves up. The light hitting their faces drawing them back to the land of the living. Into what has become her nightmare.

She ducks behind the counter.

"What happened last night? My head is killing me and- why are you on the floor?"

"Well, we all started on the couch and then I needed water, couldn't find my spot again so I just stayed on the floor."

There is a pause. "What do you mean 'we all'?"

"The three of us? You know, it's bad not to sleep together on the night of your wedding."

There is a string of mumbled words from Oscar that she can't make out. "Seeing as I married your girlfriend, you seem way too happy about this."

"Mate, you were literally trying to fuck both of us last night and then went on this rant about-"

"Okay! I get it! No need to embarrass me more."

Lando is laughing hysterically. "I was wondering if you were ever going to do it. I was getting worried about your wife having a stroke if we didn't do something about this. She talks in her sleep you know."

She squeaks and then covers her mouth. She curls further into her hiding place, but it's no use. They boys find her and join her on the floor.

"You been awake long, love?" How can Lando be so gentle at a time like this? Like she hadn't just betrayed him! She stares in disbelief and then shakes her head no.

It looks like Lando is about to say something else when there is a knock on the door. He gets up and opens it to Charles and Max. The former of which is yelling in French.

"Looks like you guys also had a rough night." Lando is keeling over laughing which inevitably puts him back on the floor.

"What do you mean?" Max is standing there looking completely sober.

Lando is in tears at this point, and nobody understands what he's laughing at. "The matching rings, mate? Do you not remember getting hitched right after your sister?"

There is a set of identical screams followed by more frantic French.

"Speaking of that..." Max turns his attention to the little Leclerc and Oscar. "... You going to explain this one Lando? I remember this still."

Lando then blushes, and it looks like he considers running. "So listen - I may have talked you two into getting married." There is this innocent smile on his face that makes her jaw drop.

"This was you?! I'm panicking for nothing?!" She trails with French mumbling, and Charles joins in with her.

They look through pictures for a while and get water into their systems before Max and Charles go to leave.

"So, are you two going to get a divorce?" Oscar looks at Charles and Max who shrug.

"Maybe, but who knows? Maybe it'll come in handy some day."

"I knew you guys were fucking! Lando you own me now."

"How did you know?!"

"Little sisters know all, dear brother."

When it's just the three, a tense silence false between them. "So, what now?" She finally breaks. No longer able to handle the staring.

"We get a lawyer?"

"Or, hear me out, we keep it. We can always do that later!"

It's true, really. This a backward way of confessing, but it's not like they don't want to be together.

"Then Lando needs a ring also!" They laugh.

The Brit gets a hold of the certificate and finds a marker to write his name on it. "I fixed it."

Then he looks at the other two. Bright smiles on all of there faces.

"Shall we consummate the marage?"

#x reader #fanficion #formula one #f1 fic #formula 1 #racing #f1 fanfic #lando norris f1 #lando norris fanfic #lando norris x reader #lando norris #landoscar #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x oscar piastri #ln4 imagine #ln4 #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri f1 #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x y/n #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x lando norris #op81 imagine #op81 x reader #op81 #mclaren lando norris #mclaren formula 1

[bo0tleg]

GEMS MY FRIEND SAID WATCHING 'TOP GUN: MAVERICK' FOR THE FIRST TIME:

"The jacket! The famous jacket that pulls women, pulls men, pulls the world!"

"Oh look how hot~ he looks on that motorcicle. He's even pracing his ass!"

(Maverick, on screen: "Well... He's not here yet.") The mans madness has begun."

"MAVERICK DON'T DIE YOU STILL NEED TO HAVE YOUR GAY ROMANCE!"

"He lasted two months at Top Gun? HA. He probably was a bigger piece of work than the students."

"From what I can tell, Maverick tamed Iceman. In the first one he was the little annoying bitch and Maverick saw a challenge."

"I mean, at least these two (Penny and Mav) have chemistry. They hooked up in a plane, after all."

"Iceman solves his problems, Iceman keeps his job, what a simp. That's dog behavior."

"Maverick doesn't look likes he's flirting with her, he's just confused. His confused face looks like his flirting face, and people assume. I know this because people do it to me."

"Yeah, he's kinda like that one Olívia Rodrigo song that she gets confused when she sees her ex... What was it again?" ('bad Idea right?' by Olivia Rodrigo)

"I like him (Bob)! He's pathetic like me!"

"Oooohhh they're (Phoenix and Bob) gonna be besties! I can feel it."

(When Phoenix racks Rooster with the cue) "OHOHOHOOOO I LIKE HER ALREADY."

(Didn't notice Hangman taking Bob's cue, I relayed the information) "Aaaahhh don't steal Bob's cue. Bob's cool, Bob's nice."

(After rewinding the scene) "NO, NO, NO! WHO IS THAT? NOBODY CAN STEAL BOB'S CUE! I don't like him (Hangman)."

(Hangman, on screen: Bradshaw! As I live and breathe!) *Slowly turns towards me with dead eyes*

"That's not enemies to lovers, that's just enemies."

"With just this scene, I can tell this guy (Hangman) comes and goes. 'Sometimes I flirt with you, sometimes I hate you.' He's like a tsudere."

"Oh, got it. Phoenix is adopted into the man's group. She's a bro."

"I wouldn't say that they're his support system, but those two are the people that know him the best. Hangman is paying attention because he wants to be the best and needs to defeat Rooster. Phoenix is demonstrating a more sibling like worry."

"Hondo is like Mavericks babysitter."

"Oh. Oh, now Mav's flirting with her."

(Following the 'Baby on Board' comment) "Don't talk shit about Bob! I don't like Hangman."

"Maverick is like a step father to Rooster. Not in the 'HAHA I FUCKED YOUR MOM' kind of way, but in the way that he helped raise him."

"Where is Iceman? I'm here for the two of them, I don't give a fuck about Aeronautics."

"I think Ice and Maverick had a long relationship, but they're not together anymore. They maintained a friendship, but their lives probably went in different directions. I'd say they were together for 10, maybe 20 years."

('I ain't worried' by OneRepublic starts playing) "This song is from 2022? OH MY GOD THE SCENE"

"DON'T PLAY AROUND WITH GRANDPA!"

*Started chanting "BOB! BOB! BOB!" When he got picked up*

*Eeriely quiet during the bird strike, until Maverick starts talking to Rooster* "OH THEY'RE NOT DEAD. THEY COULDN'T HAVE KILLED BOB! IF THEY KILLED BOB I WOULD STOP AND NEVER WATCH TOP GUN EVER AGAIN!"

"Definitely 20 years. Ice is probably the only person Mav actually loved. Like, not a fling?" "Yeah, probably." "He's been with lots of women, and men, but Iceman is the only person he was ever in love with– maybe still is."

"I think his (Ice's) wife knows. That's probably why she recognizes Mav and is kind of friends with him." "That's probably why she just let him go up to see Ice." "YEAH GO AHEAD, FUCK MY HUSBAND!"

"It's pretty easy to notice that Snowman– No, ICEman."

"That is the face of a man who just lost the love of his life."

"Damn, the mans a beast. If It was me I'd already have cried, alone, in a room absolutely destroyed, never to come out again."

"He's got nobody, dude! I just want his step child to come back, because If he doesn't that man's gonna kill himself!"

"Why does it always have to have a romantic ending. Just leave him with his adoptive son. Go away."

"They (Penny and Mav) aren't going to end up together."

"I have a theory! Fanboy is obsessed with women! Cus he's 'Fanboy'." "But wouldn't he be called Simp, then?" "Ah, then he's obsessed with men." "... simp can be for men too."

"There's gonna be a Top Gun Three? Who's it gonna be about? It ain't gonna be Maverick, that man has a foot in the grave already."

"Bob is my favorite in the second movie. I have no favorites in the first one because everybody is very macho and very gay, and that's boring."

#srry yall #she kind of destroyed Hangster and Brace #Brace? Or Roosnix? Idk the name of Rooster x Phoenix #also Icemav a little #though she just sprinkled the angst #top gun maverick #iceman x maverick #icemav #pete maverick mitchell #pete mitchell #tg86 #tg:m #tom iceman kazansky #tom kazansky #top gun #top gun 1986 #bradley rooster bradshaw #jake hangman seresin #bradley bradshaw #robert bob floyd #natasha phoenix trace #bernie hondo coleman #penny benjamin #jake seresin #top gun hangman #phoenix trace #bob floyd #mickey fanboy garcia #fanboy top gun #mickey garcia

[laisai]

So this OTW Election drama is getting out of hand...

I see a lot of panic and fearmongering, and I think some facts need to be stated to help put things into perspective.

The OTW, which operates AO3, has yearly elections for the Board of Directors. This is position which is occupied by SEVEN PEOPLE total. You can see the members of the current board here: https://www.transformativeworks.org/board-directors/

The entire Board of Directors works together to oversee the OTW as a whole. They cannot and also do not oversee the details of day-to-day operations, such as your tags being wrangled, or keeping track of donations, or responding to support tickets, or keeping the servers working, etc. (https://elections.transformativeworks.org/what-the-board-does/)

Therefore, ONE person being elected to the Board will not be able to completely shift the direction and goals of the OTW as a whole. You would need a 4 person majority at the very least, and the maximum number of seats up for election in any year is usually 3.

The requirements for running for the Board are fairly simple: 9 months in the previous year as a volunteer (everyone in the OTW, including Board members, are volunteers), not being in the Elections committee, being a legal adult, and being a paying member (basically the same as being a voter in the election). More info: https://elections.transformativeworks.org/becoming-candidate/

There is no nomination process or any sort of internal popularity contest at play here. Any views being expressed by a candidate therefore doesn't mean anything about the OTW's culture internally as a whole.

There is a period of time before the election where all eligible voters get emails at the same email address they will send the ballots to, with instructions to a mock-up page of the ballot so that people can work out technical issues if needed. People who need accommodations for any reason are also able to request them during this period weeks before the election. So asking for a "tech testing" period before the election happens is... pointless. It's already there!

Asking for more "screening" of candidates is reasonable on the surface, but the truth is, it could be ripe for abuse by people in charge of the process. Sure, perhaps the people who put these rules into place won't use the process badly, but who's to say nobody will ever be tempted to do so? It could lead to a Board and Elections Committee that works together to keep new ideas and changes in the OTW from ever coming to fruition. Just imagine the Board of Directors we hate in movies: old white men in suits who never want anything to change, and only let in people who are just like them. Also -- the reason we have elections AT ALL is so everyone gets a voice in how the OTW will run.

This isn't like the US Election (or British, or wherever you are) where your vote is one drop in an ocean of millions. The OTW and AO3 are actually not that big in the wider world, and that means each vote counts more. Also, the ranked voting system means peoples' votes can count towards their second- or third-favourite candidate, or so on. It's not all or nothing here!

I know a lot of people are worried seeing what seems like anti views coming from "within" the OTW itself, but it is still one person out of hundreds. People are always going to have varying opinions; the GOOD thing is that people are voting against opinions that they don't agree with. That means the voting process is working.

There is a conversation to be had, perhaps, about changing some policies and requirements for candidates and members future elections. But right now? Breathe.

There is no risk of the AO3 censoring and banning fic overnight, even if you personally cannot vote this year. After all, the candidates weren't revealed until after everyone donated, and we know antis would never give AO3 their money.

(And for the conspiracists out there: ballot-stuffing is not 100% impossible, but EXTREMELY UNLIKELY. You would need to have paid 10$ donations for HUNDREDS if not THOUSANDS of fake people (which is $$$$) months in advance and also set up hundreds/thousands of email accounts for all these fake people, or for real people with nefarious aims. The reason we know the moon landing wasn't faked is because that many people could not have realistically kept a secret for that long. We would have heard whispers about it. The same applies here. This entire debacle came out of left field over the course of a few days!

And all that work, for ONE member who can't unilaterally change anything? Please.)

#just leave candidates you don't like off your ballot #ao3 #otw #fanfic #fanfiction #fandom #elections #archive of our own #psa #signal boost

[sillyblues]

Omg for that Miguel O'hara fanfic where the reader was called annoying. Can the reader return back to her dimension and Miguel is trying to contact her and sends someone to go check up on her. But the person comes back and shakes his head at Miguel, saying they weren't there so Miguel asks Lyla for the reader's location. She's in an alleyway or rooftop and she just tells Miguel she doesn't want to talk. Miguel brought the bear too, just to show that he does care about her and the gifts she gives him. You could change some of these ideas. :] -c

ੈ✩‧₊˚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: sorry this took me long to reply because i had to at least push a part of the preggo fic before i write this and this wasn't included on annoying part 2, i rlly considered this but the idea i had in mind with this was an angsty one and i wanted a happy ending for it so yeah :(( but still here's an alternate ending of annoying!

Miguel O’Hara was an asshole.

And he knew that of course, because he was the one who made this persona to protect himself from getting hurt. He had to be a real piece of shit so that he couldn’t get attached to anyone and wouldn’t get hurt if the universe inevitably ripped their arms away from his again.

But you. Oh god, you.

You were the reason why he had to wear a mask, a lie. You were so beautiful that his bleak world of loneliness was shattered with just a smile. Your voice brings back life in the void that resides in his heart. Your touch heals the hurting man that he so desperately tries to hide.

Like a moth attached to a flame, he easily got attached to you. And he hated that. He promised himself that he would not let anybody in and love anyone but God, it was fucking you. When he realised his mistake, he tried to be mean. He tried to regain and be in control of himself again (because he couldn’t get a hold of himself when it came to you) so that he wouldn’t be hurt ever again. He tried to ignore you despite his mind clinging to a word that you say and the urge to just be near you, to see you.

But when you fell from the platform, he was instantly reminded of his daughter, who disappeared into atoms and molecules, into thin air in his arms. He was instantly reminded of Gabriella, who the universe ripped away from his awms. His body reacted instinctively.

No. He had already lost her. He didn’t want to lose you again. 

Don’t do this to me. Don’t hurt me again.

In fear of losing you, he didn’t know he had hurt you. And when he realised it, it was too late. You ran away in tears, in pain that he caused and fuck, he was a piece of shit. He bitterly chuckled as he cried as he clutched the teddy bear you gave him. His tears fell on its fur, and he kneeled.

Miguel O’Hara was an asshole because he had to be one so that nobody couldn’t hurt him but when he had hurt you instead, he found himself questioning himself.

.

.

. 

Miguel knew you just as you knew him. When Peter came back to his office with no news of you, he quickly knew where you were. So he went to you himself instead and just as he knew, you were there on the rooftop of your apartment sitting with your back facing him. He clutched the teddy bear as he walked towards you.

His heart hammered against his chest and rang in his eardrums. His jaw was clenched and a part of him wants to hide forever but at the same time, he needed to apologize to you for what he have said and done. You did not deserve him but you deserved an apology.

But what if you didn’t want him anymore?

“What are you doing here, Miguel?” your hoarse voice snapped him out of his thoughts and he could hear the long time you cried and the pain that laced with it. His heart stung at the memory of him yelling at you once more.

“[Name]...” he whispered out your name and he was reminded of the days he thought of apologizing to you, days of saying your name as practised his apologies, and now that he was finally here in front of you, the owner of the name he desperately called out was in front of him, he didn't know what he was feeling. “I'm here to apologize.”

“You don't need to. It's fine. I don't really care anymore.” you said as you still looked ahead. his eyes widened at your figure that seemed so smaller than ever before.

“No, [Name], you should care. I was an asshole, a huge piece of shit and you didn't deserve that—”

“Last time I cared, I got shouted at telling me I'm annoying!” you snapped as you finally turned around and looked at him. He finally saw you but he didn't want to see you this way. He didn't want to see you hurting and in pain.

“I'm really sorry, please believe me, I didn't mean any of those, please.” he desperately begged and a part of him wondered how would his past self react if he knew of him for doing the exact thing he didn't want to do. If his past self saw him now, attached to someone enough to beg them to believe him, there was no doubt he would go insane. And he was insane. He was insane for all of this. He was insane for you.

“Liar,” your lip trembled and his heart broke at the sight of you crying again. “No, Miguel, you said what you needed to say and it's enough for me. I was a problem, I get it.”

“Let's just end this now. I quit. I give up.” your tears fell from your cheeks and he wanted to comfort you, to hold you, to wipe your tears. But he couldn't. The hopelessness in your voice destroyed him.

He caused that. He hurt you.

Miguel was only terrified of the fear that the universe would take you away if he got close to you and in his fear, he was the one that took you away from him instead.

tag-list: (i'm sorry if i wasn't able to tag you!) @nxrdamp @um-well @nanasdumbworld @myconglomerateromance @sleepyamaya @harlekin6 @bittersw33t-lotus @saturnknows @miggyoharaswife @innergardentoadpony @asobriquet @mimooyi @misscaller06 @sciencethot @vainillasmil157 @just-a-mothboi @katsukiswrld @zukiizuks @cumbermovels @bigmood-myman @momos-peaches @lunrai @saint-chlorine @themoonsaynotocircus @deputy-videogamer @brittney69 @armins-ocean-seashell @galadrien02 @ranp01 @witherfag @eileen201804 @daryldixonh0e @chinglewingledingledong @mystar-girl57 @lorarri @poopoobuttsy @scarletsloveletter@mimimarvelingmarvel @tfygcdy @skulfan1 @roryrose327 @gamersansblog

#blue writes! ✧˖*°࿐ #spiderverse 2 #across the spiderverse #spider man: across the spider verse #spiderman 2099 #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #atsv angst

[clericofgale]

Spoilers for Patch 5 and the whole game.

I posted my thoughts about the new ending Gale got in patch 5 on Reddit first, but I might as well post it here with some revisions. I'll say it, I love the god Gale ending. But it is NOT his good ending to me. Before I would never have pursued it, but now it is tantalizing to say the least. I'm into it though Gale the mortal is still my preference.

"Gale Dekarios cuts a poor figure next to the wizarding prowess of 'Gale of Waterdeep. You like so many things about me I'd have sooner discarded…"

By ascending Gale, you are killing Gale Dekarios. The nerd that hits on you in front of everyone while you're covered in zombie blood, procced to infodump an entire tangent to complement you, and yet somehow stick the landing to hit you with the most romantic poetry you've ever heard. A sensitive man who wears his emotions on his sleeve and wants to make the world a more beautiful place. An artist of the weave and a poet. The owner of the most overbearing tressym in the world. The moment the spell was complete, Gale Dekarios died and Gale the divine was born.

Even then, why is god Gale now so enticing to me unlike ascended Astarion? Because he loves you. He wants you by his side as an equal. It's actually sweet and romantic, just like all of Gale's romance is. I'm nothing if not a sucker for a romance.

"Follow my Lead" "Show me more. Show me it all." "I want you to seize the crown and make us a new world"

BeMyGod is the name in the data file for the boat scene where Gale asks you if you'll be with him when he seizes the crown. I know file names can be arbitrary, but if you agree to his proposal, you really are asking Gale to be your god. It's so easy to say yes. You're in the stars, Gale says I want to show you so much more, but it's not worth it without you. All you need to do is say yes. You're angry at Mystra who demanded so much of Gale, caused him such suffering and won't lift a finger to help. So You say yes. You love him. He loves you.

When Gale ascends, even in 6 months he is a different entity. The devs indicate: "His posture/demeanor here should feel slightly more aloof/detached than the regular Gale - he's been immortal for six months, his ego is as powerful as his magic. The real Gale's insecurities still lurk beneath his godlike confidence, as does his love for the player, but this is clearly a Gale setting out on a darker path."

The Gale here is a twisted version of the one we loved. His flaws are worse, he good traits have mostly disappeared. Namely his kindness and tolerance to deprecating humor. He no longer tolerates any perceived slight or jab. He doesn't let go of his bitterness towards Mystra. His ego is large yet fragile. You saw a glimpse of it at the ritual circle scene if you succeed in upstaging him in magic. Now it's only gotten worse. Yes even his insecurity. If you rejected him after accepting the proposal, Gale says this.

Tav: No, I think it's the end. What happened to the man I once loved? Gale: He's the god he deserves to be. I achieved everything we hoped I would, and still I'm not good enough for you?

He's also lonelier than ever. His last 6 months were in isolation, with nobody he could trust while dealing with the crown and celestial politics. Immortals don't really have friends. They have allies and lovers. He stops talking to his mother who was so dear to him. He develops a spell to polymorph people into Tara, his oldest friend who rejects him after ascension. He then develops a spell that summons Shadowdark ale and forces people to dance and be happy, just like the vignette he told you about the Yawning Portal. The third spell is Power word: Ruin. he's finally back to speaking death into being with a single word, just like he used to.

Gale wanted to be a god to make a better world, but now he's a neutral god answering prayers from any alignment. He doesn't care if they are Thayan wizards aiming for lichdom or unscrupulous Amnian merchants. Ambition is a neutral idea. Ambition also drives healers to develop a cure. For adventurers to slay monsters.

What's the most noticeable remaining good trait in Gale? Gale still loves you. He's much nicer to you if romanced. He refuses to be with you if you don't go with him because he doesn't want to hurt you. He admires your good heart if you want to honor the pact with Raphael. He calls you my love just like before. He will fulfill the promise sealed that night in the astral sea. All you have to do is say yes. And the ascension cinematic is a callback to the romance scenes from before.

"Follow my lead. Close your eyes. I have so much more to show you."

And you know what. I'll go with you. Even if we will eventually lose both our humanity in our folly, and dreams become nightmares. Even if I'll come to regret that night when I said yes to the mortal you, I don't want you to be lonely. Where ever you go, I'll go. You'll always have me. And I'll always have you.

As God Gale would say… "A toast then, to our myriad ambitions. May we each get what we deserve."

#gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #god gale #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 spoilers #Gale thoughts #Love makes fools of us all #Frankly I think the fact his love is genuine is genius #1k+ words