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avocado-writing · 5 months

Note

Hello! Today is my birthday (well, in one hour it will be) and I was wondering if you could write a story with Crowley and Aziraphale with reader perhaps set in the tltdatsib series/world where it’s like the past sometime (whenever you’d like) and maybe Aziraphale (or Crowley) gets jealous that reader is paying more attention to the other and angst to fluff perhaps with makeup sex? Thank you! New to the fandom and love your work!

notes: I’m certain it was your birthday like two months ago by this point but uhhhhh enjoy!

pairing: aziraphale x reader x crowley (tltdatsib-verse)

rating: E

Crowley is jealous.

He thinks he’s doing a pretty good job at conveying it: huffing, sitting down heavily, crossing his arms (though definitely not pouting) but you and Aziraphale haven’t picked up on it.

For the amount of time you’ve been together, sometimes it does end up that two of you will spend more time together than all three. He’s had countless times when he’s headed off with Aziraphale around the world for work reasons, and he can firmly remember some stints in the seventies when the two of you hit the road to follow your favourite bands on tour.

Still, though. He doesn’t like it when it happens to him.

You and Aziraphale have been going to night time classes. He’s not quite sure what classes, neither of you have let that slip, but what it has meant is that you and the angel have been around each other incessantly. Together. He feels a bit elbowed out of it all, like the two of you have some little secret to giggle over.

Crowley swirls his wine in his glass and mopes a bit before swallowing it down, harrumphing quietly to himself as he hears the two of you open the door to the shop and walk in laughing. Probably at some private joke that he won’t be privy to.

“And I was just— oh, hello, Crowley. Why are you sitting in the dark, my love?”

He looks over to you and notices for the first time that he’s not bothered to put the lights on. He flinches as Aziraphale hits the light switch and the bookshop is bathed in a warm glow. The two of you carry on as if nothing is amiss; Aziraphale puts the kettle on, you hang up the coats.

“Have you just been there since we left?” you asked, concern creeping into your voice. Crowley takes another quaff.

“Maybe. Not sure why you’d care.”

He sniffs loudly and out of the corner of his eye he can see your confusion.

“Love, what’s the matter?” you ask, crossing your arms, fully in no-nonsense mode. Aziraphale pokes his head out of the kitchen.

“Is something happening?”

You gesture for him to follow you. The kettle sings and turns off, ignored, and the two of you plonk down on the sofa either side of Crowley.

“What’s wrong?” you ask, gently but firmly, laying your hand on his knee.

“Well, maybe you’d know if you weren’t constantly disappearing off to your evening classes without me…” he knows he sounds petulant but honestly he sort of doesn’t care. He enjoys being petulant sometimes.

“Oh, Crowley,” you say softly, “we didn’t think you’d want to come, my darling.”

“I don’t want to come!” he snips, then deflates a little, putting down his wine, “But I would have done it if you asked.”

You and Aziraphale exchange a look. Ah. There it is. You’ve been around long enough to know that misunderstandings happen when communication doesnt. Either side of Crowley, you both take one of his hands.

“Crowley, dear. We weren’t excluding you to be unkind. We just didn’t want you to come because… well…”

“Look. We’ve been going to swing dance classes. And we’re really bad at it,” you finish. Aziraphale shrugs and nods. Crowley furrows his brow.

“What?”

“We’re so utterly pants. We can’t swing dance to save our lives and we’ve been going for weeks now.”

“We’re getting better!” Aziraphale says, “We don’t stand on each other’s feet half as much any more. But truth be told we are the worst in the class by a large margin - and we don’t want you to watch us dance until we’re worth watching.”

“It’s pretty humiliating. We were hoping one day we’d be able to show you properly. We wanted you to be impressed.”

Oh god. Crowley feels awful. The two of you weren’t trying to exclude him, you just wanted to be good enough to show off. He groans and buries his face in his hands.

“I’m an idiot,” he sighs.

“Well…”

He shoots you a withering look, but ends up smiling.

“My dear, you have to tell us if something is bothering you. Neither of us would want that,” Aziraphale says.

“If you’re feeling neglected you just need to say, and I’m sure we can make it up to you…”

This is all the incentive Crowley needs to allow the two of you to begin to touch him.

You kiss him first, long and slow, before freeing his lips for Aziraphale. Crowley loves the slick slide of his husband’s tongue along his, the way the angel’s warm hand skims the plateau of skin revealed as his shirt is lifted up. You work your way down Crowley’s body and end up on your knees between his legs, your hands making light work of his jeans.

“Ahh, there we are,” you sigh, finding him half-hard and stroking him to his full length. You take a moment to inhale the musky scent of him before you touch your tongue to the tip of his cock, and he bucks as if you’ve run a thousand volts through him.

“Shit—!”

“Language,” Aziraphale mutters against his lips. The demon’s shirt is hitched higher, Aziraphale begins to run his thumb in a circle around the peak of his nipple.

“Such a lovely boy,” you hum as you press kisses down the length of his shaft. Crowley doesn’t identify as male necessarily, but he does enjoy hearing you call him a ‘lovely boy’. It makes him feel small and safe, adored.

He relaxes into the couch and lets you both take care of him. By the end of the evening, and several orgasms later, he can tell you’re both very sorry for making him feel ignored. But if this is the way you make it up to him, maybe he doesn’t mind too much…

tags: @angiestopit @foolishprincipalitee @smile-eywa @staygoldsquatchling02 @underratedboogeyman @specter-soltare @candlewitch-cryptic @cool-ontherun-world @emilynissangtr @willbedecided @bdffkierenwalker @cool-iguana @ilyatan @civil-groupie @willyoubethepookietomypookster @lxsm2 @clarina04 @wtfhasmy-lifecometo @mrgatotortuga @wereallbrokenangels @night-affiliate @silcosmoke @kimqueenofhell @chewbrry @bajablast23 @h3k3t @am-i-obsessed---maybe @bakerstreethound@a-mediocore-writer@darktealrat @chaospossum @belilwen @rex-ray @hunterispunk

#aziraphale x reader x crowley #crowley x reader x aziraphale #good omens x reader #ineffable husbands x reader #Request #fic: the light the dark and the spaces inbetween

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anime-grimmy-art · 5 months

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It’s this time of the year again, folks. Time to wrap up the art Ive made in the last 12 months in another Year in Review! I’ve noticed that this is my fifth Year in Review in a row, so I’ll be making an extra post looking back on the progress in those last 5 years!

I've got a lot to say about this year, but purely art wise, I've gone all when it comes to comics, damn! I've kinda found a format that is messy, and therefore more time efficient, yet still looks good. I even made 2 animatics and lotsa shorts/reels! All that on top of opening coms twice, and, oh yeah, MAKING A WHOLE ASS 4MIN ANIMATION ON MY OWN.

How is my hand still alive.

2023 has been….interesting, to say the least. The first half year I was working on my thesis project, aka making an animated short all on my own (in the art department), which makes it honestly surprising how much I managed to churn out between animating. Trigun rly did have me in a choke hold.

Summer was a bit more spotty, esp. with me not being able to draw anything during August as I was writing my thesis (and doing commissions). And towards the end of the year, Kingdom Hearts tried to save me, but alas, Genshin Impact has finally sunk its teeth into me and dragged me to the bottom of the rabbit hole. It all started with me watching a story summary and lore videos while I was sick after my thesis and I was too intrigued to not dig deeper and well, first I fell in love with Kaeya and then the ships started dropping in left and right.

I’m not gonna lie, the last few months have been weird. I finished my masters in October, and have been on job hunt since, sadly without success so far. I’m existing in this weird limbo of still not grasping I’m not a student anymore after 18 years in education, not really being able to accept I’m an adult, yet desperately trying to find something so I can make a routine, cos rn Im too scared to build a rhythm as I know I’ll have a so much harder time readjusting again. It’s left me in a weird emotional state, where most of the time I feel fine, but when it counts, there’s just, nothing. No joy at getting my diploma, no anticipation to finally go to a convention again, neither any sadness hearing my grandfather died. It frustrates me that it extends to my art as well, there’s excitement over ideas and concepts, but no motivation to pick up the pencil, which makes me either not finish art at all or making so many shortcuts and just ending up with sth not satisfactory to me since it’s not the idea I sought after.

Tho, not everything is doom and gloom. I DID finish a whole ass short animation and got my masters degree, that IS sth to be proud of. Also, while Im struggling at drawing, I’ve also kinda started integrating my shortcuts into my style and some stuff I’ve thrown together actually turns out real good nowadays. Also, and this might be a bit of a weird one, I’m so fucking happy to know I can still enjoy gay ships. I’ve been a bit uncertain over the last few years because when I was around 16-18, I had a real big yaoi phase, which mostly came from the fact so much stuff came out that tickled my brain in the right way (Free, Haikyuu, etc.). But over the years, my enthusiasm died down, and I even started to resent some ships because it’s all some fandoms produced. I often found myself liking a hetero ship more than the popular gay ship, which really made me not wanna stick around because I did not care for most fanart and you can only go through a tag with art you don’t care about so long before you lose interest. I think in retrospect that it rly had nothing to do with the ships being gay ships but rather cos the fans just shoved it in your face when you didn’t care (and shipping culture nowadays also can get real scary). But I’m so happy to see I can still get obsessed with a ship and it’s all thanks to Haikaveh/Kavetham. It really just needed the right flavour for me to dig in again. And oh my god, I FINALLY like a ship with a SHIT TON of art and fanfictions, no more scrounging the crumbs from the bottom of the barrel.

Anyways, enough lamenting. Here’s to hoping I can bite my tongue and get shit started properly in 2024, and that my brainrots may make me obsessed enough to churn out an obscene amount of fanart again.

#art year in review #anime-grimmy #fanart #sketch #comic #animatic #undertale #trigun #legend of zelda #monster hunter #kingdom hearts #undead unluck #genshin impact

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baileypie-writes · 5 months

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Would yyou pllleeeeeaaaseee do velvet x male reader?? (any scenario) thx

A/N ~ Sure! Hope you like the scenario I picked out!

~How Dare You Say That!~

Velvet x Male!Reader

Fandom: Trolls 3: Band Together

Reader: Male

Relationship: Romantic

Synopsis: An interviewer says something about you that makes Velvet very upset.

Warnings: Hurt/comfort, Velvet getting really mad, crying(Velvet), cringe

Sitting in the back of the studio, you couldn’t help but smile. Your girlfriend, Velvet, and her brother were having an interview. The camera crew were busily scrambling behind the scenes, but your attention was only on her.

She looked stunning. Her fashion sense was always the best, way better than yours, and the outfit she picked out today made her look like a star. Not that she didn’t always look like one.

“So where did your guys’s talent come from? Is it genetics? Are your parents good at singing too?” Asked the interviewer.

“Oh, goodness no!” Veneer answered. “Our parents were dentists!” The crowd erupted in laughter, making Veneer look proud of himself.

The interviewer laughed as well. “Well, I’m sure they’re proud of you!” Velvet and Veneer looked at each other, smiling.

“And I’m also sure that your boyfriend is proud of you too!” He said, looking at Velvet. She smiled, looking at you. You nodded, giving her a thumbs up, confirming the interviewer’s statement.

“He is.” Said Velvet, proudly.

The interviewer continued. “Speaking of your boyfriend, how long have you two been together?”

“A few months.” Velvet seemed happy to be talking about you. She looked back at you, giving you a big smile.

“Really? Well congratulations to him. Must be nice to be dating a famous pop-star!” Velvet’s smile dropped a bit. So did yours. Was that comment really necessary? She took a quick glance at you, letting you know that it also made her uncomfortable.

“He seems to really love you!” He continued. Velvet nodded. “It’s great, considering so many people date stars for the money and fame. Honestly, you can barely tell which relationships are real these days! Glad to see that this guy’s different. At least I hope so! Only time will tell, am I right?” He winked, and the crowd laughed. But neither you nor Velvet thought it was funny.

You were very uncomfortable at this point. Many people were looking at you, and one guy even patted your back in a joking manner. Velvet’s expression changed from awkward, to just plain mad.

“What are you implying?” She asked, glaring directly at the man. “Are you saying that my boyfriend could only want me because I’m famous?” The crowd went silent. The interviewer opened his mouth to speak, but Velvet cut him off. “How dare you say that! He loved me before anyone knew who I was! He could never be that shallow!” She stood up, grabbing her brother’s hand. “Come on, Veneer, we’re done here!”

The crowd was filled with gasps and murmurs as they walked off stage. You got up from your seat, and followed the camera crew, who were trying to get to Velvet and Veneer.

~~~~

You eventually got to the dressing room. The door was being guarded by two big men, blocking it from the various camera crew people, as well as the interviewer.

He was giving Velvet a half-assed apology. He was also calling her sensitive, saying that it was “just a joke”. You walked up to the man, placing a hand on his shoulder to move him out of the way. You scowled at him, causing him to back away. You looked at the two guards.

“Let me in.” You demanded. They stepped aside, obviously knowing who you were. You opened the door, and your heart sank.

Your girlfriend was sitting at the vanity, Veneer comforting her. She was shaking, and quiet sobs could be heard. You felt awful for her.

“Hey Velvet.” You said in a calm, comforting tone. She jolted up, and spun around. Tears were running down her face, as well as her mascara. It was honestly shocking for you to see her like this. Sure, you’ve seen her said before, but this is the first time you’ve seen her cry.

You walked over to her, and gave her the biggest hug you possibly could. “I’m so sorry sweetie.”

“You’re sorry?! It’s that stupid man’s fault! What was he even thinking, saying something like that?! And people had the audacity to laugh! How is implying that you’re a greedy liar funny?” You were sure that the people on the other side of the door could hear her. You specifically hoped that the interviewer did. You rubbed her back, letting her vent.

“I mean, is that what people really think of you?” She said. You pulled away from the hug to look at her face. Her mascara was even more runny than before.

“Velvet, I don’t care what people think of me. They can think whatever they want, but that doesn’t make it true. I love you, famous or not. And I didn’t get to say this verbally before, but I am very proud of you.” Velvet was still crying after you spoke, but now, they were happy tears. She was so happy finally hearing someone say they were proud of her. You hugged again, not caring one bit about the group of people outside.

(Bonus Content)

Veneer had just finished writing a lengthy post shaming the interviewer. Seconds after it was posted, the likes were already rolling in.

People were giving tons of support to you and Velvet, and absolutely none for the that shitty man.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~~baileypie-writes

#trolls 3 band together #trolls 3 #trolls 3 velvet #velvet x reader #trolls 3 x reader

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wolfjackle-creates · 5 months

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The Two Ghost Motel

So, as I mentioned, I joined the DP Ecto-Implosion Event this past month and it's Posting Week now! So I get to finally share with you the first chapter of my fic. Still working on editing the second half of the fic, but it's fully written as of this time.

For those who don't know, for the Ecto-Implosion event, artists drew/animated/composed some piece of art and writers then went in and wrote fics based off their art.

I was lucky enough to be paired with the super talented @i-think-in-metaphors who made this gorgeous artwork:

You can read on AO3 here (this fic is not locked to AO3 users only).

And for those of you who prefer to read on Tumblr:

Word Count: 5k

Warnings: Minor Original Character Death (not in this chapter)

Fandom: DPxDC (though no knowledge of DC is necessary for this fic. I use a single character and he has amnesia, it takes place in an original setting or Amity)

Summary:

Danny is tired. Endless ghost fights with too many responsibilities and too little time; he barely passed sophomore year. When Ember visits town for a bit of fun, she mentions the Two Ghost Motel, a place of peace and refuge for restless ghosts who aren't ready to cross over. “I’m fine, Ember.” Danny’s got a home and friends. He’s fine, really. But when his parents begin experimenting with electricity to destabilize ghosts, it’s too much for Danny. Unfortunately, neither Sam nor Tucker can host him for the night and he’s left wandering in the night, alone. Then he sees it: The Two Ghost Motel. He checks in. “Welcome.”

-----

Danny wasn’t sure when he first saw the neon sign. Honestly, he didn’t even realize it was something ghostly when he did. He just thought it was one more ghost-themed business that had come to Amity since the portal opened.

But when he mentioned the motel to Sam and Tucker, they looked at him like he was crazy.

“I’ve never heard of any Two Ghost Motel,” said Sam. “Where’d you see it?”

Tucker was typing into his PDA. “Nothing’s coming up online, either.”

“Oh come on, you’re pulling my leg. We’ve passed it at least a half dozen times. Last night when we were leaving Nasty Burger for one! And I think, what, three nights before that? On patrol? Where were we?”

“Dude, that night we were near the library. No where near Nasty Burger. No way you could’ve seen the same place both nights,” said Tucker.

“Danny, when was the last time you got a full night’s sleep?” Sam’s brow was knit in concern.

Danny waved off her concern. “Whatever. I know I’ve seen it. The sign is bright pink and orange with blue ghosts on it.”

Sam just shrugged and shook her head. “Point it out next time you see it.”

Before Danny could reply, his ghost sense went off and he groaned. “Ugh, looks like someone’s around. I’m too tired for this.” Danny glanced around. They were in the park and no humans were nearby so he let his transformation wash over him.

He flew into the air and tried to listen past the sound of his breaths echoing through his mask. Even though he didn’t breathe when transformed, something about the hazmat suit remembered and the sound was inescapable.

A guitar chord played behind him and Danny instinctively threw up a shield and fell ten feet right as a blast from Ember’s instrument headed his way.

“Hey there, baby-pop!” she called. “I was sitting around, bored out of my mind, when I remembered I could just come here to have some fun!”

Danny turned to face her. “Come on, Ember.” His voice always sounded so robotic when filtered through the mask. “I’m tired.”

“Too bad. I’m not.” She grinned at him and strummed a few notes, sending more attacks his way.

Danny dodged, only to have to watch one of the blasts hit a bench and destroy it. He flew higher, hoping her next attacks wouldn’t cause more collateral that would be blamed on him.

“What, you just gonna dance around like that? Come on, attack back!”

“My moves not good enough for you?”

“You need to step it up if you want to be my back up dancer.”

Danny couldn’t help but laugh and when she sent her next blast his way, he avoided it by doing a backwards dive towards the ground only to circle back up until he was facing her. “How’s that?”

“Better, but you’re still not there. Your moves have to match the music!” She played a tune with a fast beat and Danny dodged and spun. And if he added some flair to his movements, well, he deserved the chance to have a little fun.

Another blast his way, and he twisted his hips. Matching Ember’s beat, he sent a few ectoblasts back at her.

Ember laughed. “Now you’re catching on!”

Danny allowed himself a quick glance down where he saw Sam and Tucker not even trying to hide. Tucker was filming them.

Which, of course, is when it all had to be ruined by the unmistakable sounds of the GAV driving cross-country.

“Through the park?” he moaned. “Seriously?”

“Shit, that’s your folks, isn’t it.”

“Yeah. C’mon, let’s get out of here.”

“You’ve got it, babypop. I came here for fun, not to mess with them.”

The GAV came to a stop and Danny saw his mom rush out of the passenger side with one of their new, long-distance guns. He tacked Ember, only just getting her out of the way of the blast.

Without any discussion, both turned invisible and flew out of the park. Danny didn’t let them stop until they were in a forest out of range of his parents’ trackers. Exhaustion set back in as soon as he realized they were safe, and he just plopped down on the ground and leaned against a tree.

“Ready to resume your dancing lessons?” asked Ember.

Danny groaned and rested his head against the rough bark. It was probably stupid, but he let his eyes close. “Maybe next time. I meant it when I said I’m tired.”

She didn’t say anything as one, two, three breaths sounded from his mask. And then he heard some leaves rustle. He cracked open an eye to see Ember making herself comfortable on the ground a few feet away.

“You really are tired, aren’t you?” she asked.

“Yeah. Finals are coming up and if I don’t do well, I’m going to fail sophomore year.”

“Y’know, I’ve heard of a place…”

Danny waited for her to continue, but when she didn’t, he hummed. “A place?”

“Yeah. Haven’t been there myself. But, there’s this place. It’s for ghosts who aren’t ready to move on from Earth just yet. Ghosts who live only on Earth without ever going the Zone get tired and weak. There’s just not enough ectoplasm around. Except for here, of course.”

“So what’s this place do?”

“Gives you somewhere to rest. And recharge. It’s not really on Earth. It’s a sort of in between place. Called the Two Ghost Motel. Might be worth checking in for a night if you ever don’t want to be at home for one reason or another.”

Danny hummed. “I’ve seen it around. Thought it was just a regular motel, but Sam and Tucker didn’t know what I was talking about.”

Ember picked out a tune on her guitar, but this time no attacks emanated from it. “It’s not a place for the living from what I’ve heard. Just the dead.”

Danny looked up at the stars through the tree branches, but he shook his head. “I’m fine, Ember. Just need to get some sleep.”

“Whatever you say, baby-pop.”

---

After that conversation with Ember, the motel began basically haunting him. Every night, as soon as dusk started to fall, he’d see it. Always a few streets away, just sitting there calling to him; it’s sign bright in the dark.

Sam and Tucker couldn’t see it, no matter how often he pointed it out to him. Jazz could sometimes see something out of the corner of her eye, but when she looked on more directly, it was never there.

Danny never approached. He was fine. He had a home and friends. There was no reason to go to some random motel.

Finals came and went. He managed to scrape by with at least Cs in everything. His parents, especially his mom, had not been happy with those grades, but Danny was just glad to have passed.

Didn’t stop him from being grounded and forced to help out more in the lab. One afternoon, he was in his room playing Doomed with Sam and Tucker when he got a message from his parents calling him back down to help them out.

“Ugh, I’ve got to go down to the lab.”

“Seriously?” complained Tucker. “Again?”

“Yeah,” agreed Sam. “Seems you’re always off helping them lately. Can’t you say no?”

“It’s this or having my phone and computer taken away. I’ll take the lab work.” He saved his progress. “Will you guys be on later?”

“Can’t,” said Sam. “My parents are forcing me to go to a fancy dinner somewhere. And they’re not giving me any more information than that to keep me from planning anything disruptive.”

“And mine have declared we’re having a tech-free family bonding night,” said Tucker, rolling his eyes. “With board games! Who plays board games in this day and age?”

Danny laughed. “I’ll see you both tomorrow, then. Later.”

Danny signed off and went downstairs. The hazmat suits were kept in a closet right next to the door to the lab, and Danny went through the process of pulling it all on. The mask that came with it was even more annoying in human form than ghost. The filtered air always tasted strange, but he’d given up complaining about that years ago.

He unlocked the lab door and went down to the lab.

“Dan-o!” called his dad as soon as he saw him. “Come here! You’re job will be to control the current!”

“Uh, current?” asked Danny.

“We’re trying to figure out how to disrupt the electrical signal in ectoplasm that gives ghosts their shape,” explained his mom. She had a bowl of ectoplasm in a glass terrarium and was arranging two metal probes so they dipped into it.

“Exactly!” agreed his dad. “So you’re going to sit at this computer”—he pulled out a chair before one of the lab computers and gestured for Danny to sit—“and adjust the frequency and voltage.”

Danny took a seat and stared at the program that was loaded on the screen. At least he wouldn’t be anywhere near the probes? A glance at the puddle of ectoplasm had him holding back a shudder.

“First we’re going to try and force the ectoplasm to form a shape,” continued his mom. “We’re going to do that with probe A. You’re going to start with a low frequency and voltage and slowly increase it while your father and I mark down how it affects the ectoplasm. We have some hypotheses about when it’ll start to form a shape.”

“And once it forms a shape,” said his dad, “you’ll use probe B to send a contrary electrical signal to destabilize it!”

“And then no more ghost!”

Suddenly Danny was glad his suit had a face mask. His parents were going to do what? Figure out how to use electricity to destabilize ghosts? It wasn’t possible. There was no way it could work. Right? He had to stay and prove to himself they were talking crazy.

“What—” His mouth was dry and he had to try again. “How should I start?”

“The settings are already loaded,” said his mom. She grabbed a tablet and sat down in front of the terrarium.

Dad sat next to her, grinning widely. “Go ahead, Dan-o!”

Danny’s hand shook as he placed it on the mouse. He sat on the other to hide it. Then he turned on the probe.

At first, nothing happened. The ectoplasm stayed a puddle and there was no visible change in it. But as he adjusted the current, it began to ripple. His parents loudly exclaimed over every change as they shouted instructions back to him.

Each change had Danny’s heart beating harder in his chest.

Two hours in is when it happened. The ectoplasm started to form a ball that rose up out of the bowl. Danny could feel something cold in the back of his throat. Not his ghost sense, but something close.

“This is it!” yelled his dad. “Danny, what’re the settings?”

Once more, Danny was glad for the way the mask muffled his voice just enough to mask how horrified he was by the thing that was forming. His parents’ theories about electrical currents couldn’t be true. They couldn’t.

“Now for us to try disrupting the current!” The glee in his mom’s voice made bile rise in Danny’s throat. But when she told him to turn on probe B, he did.

It only took twenty minutes to find the settings that made the ectoplasm fall apart back into a puddle.

Danny was up on his feet, chair toppled, in an instant. He held a gloved hand to his masked face as if he could keep from throwing up with the motion alone. It had looked so much like Ellie when she was destabilizing.

“Danny?” asked his mom, tablet forgotten on her chair as she rushed over to him. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“I… I’m feeling a bit sick. Can I, can I go? Bathroom?”

His mom reached out to brush a hand over his covered forehead as if to check his temperature. “Oh sweetie, of course you can. You should’ve told us you weren’t feeling well. There’s some soup in the fridge if you think you can eat that.”

“I— yeah. Thanks.” He didn’t wait to hear anything else she had to say and just ran up the stairs. He shed his gear in record time and ran all the way up to his room. He slammed the door shut and grabbed his backpack from where it hung on his desk chair.

With shaking hands, he took out everything in the main compartment. Then he ran to his dresser and grabbed a change of clothes and something to sleep in. He couldn’t stay here right now. He just couldn’t.

From the bathroom, he grabbed some toiletries and added those.

Less than fifteen minutes after leaving the lab, he was out the front door and walking down the street. It was late, dusk starting to fall.

He considered going to Nasty Burger to get some dinner, but then he remembered the way the ball of ectoplasm had melted and he changed directions. Eventually his wandering brought him to the park where he found a bench in an empty area and sat down, dropping his backpack at his feet.

Danny buried his face in his hands as he forced himself to just breathe. He and Tucker could mess with the results from these experiments just like they had so many times in the past. It was going to be fine.

His phone vibrated in his pocket and he pulled it out.

Jazz: Hey, Danny. Mom said you weren’t feeling well? Jazz: Where’d you go? You’re not in your room. Danny: Sorry, Jazz. I had to get out of the house. Danny: Ask mom and dad about today’s experiments. Danny: You’ll understand why. I’m gonna spend the night at Tuck’s. Jazz: Okay. See you tomorrow? Danny: Yeah. I’ll be back tomorrow. Jazz: Love you.

Of course, Tucker was having a family night. He couldn’t crash that. And Sam’s parents had banned him from their house. Where would he spend the night?

And then he noticed it. Right outside the park glowed the sign: Two Ghost Motel.

He was on his feet and walking there before he’d even consciously made the decision to go. A glance around showed he was alone, that night had fully fallen on Amity so he let his transformation wash over him.

He reached the street and, for the first time, was staring directly at the motel rather than catching glimpses from a block or two away. The parking lot had a few cars in it, the oldest looking like it might’ve been from the twenties with the newest looking like it was ten or fifteen years old.

A glance in either direction showed no cars coming, so Danny crossed the street.

As soon as he stepped off the sidewalk and into the parking lot, Danny could feel a change in the air. It was nothing obvious, but something integral was different. The sounds of the city were muffled, the sense of life dulled. The air felt lighter and the door seemed to call to him. Most importantly, it was easier to push away the memories from his afternoon in the lab.

The sign, when he reached it, buzzed softly in the night. He held a hand up towards it and felt an echoing buzz under his skin.

He stared at the lights for a moment more before continuing towards the building at the other end of the lot. It hadn’t been repaved in ages and was riddled with cracks. But the plants that grew up through them weren’t the normal grasses and dandelions. He wished Sam were with him to help him identify them.

Instead he knelt down and pulled out his phone to take a picture. They glowed slightly in the night, their stems ectoplasm-green with blue leaves and red bulbs. Danny reached out to touch one, only for the bulb to open and snap at his finger.

Danny laughed in surprise as he pulled his hand away. Something inside him relaxed. A night away would do him good and maybe he’d see other cool things besides the flowers.

The motel itself was a long, two-story building. The main entrance was smack in the middle of the building with rows of rooms extending to either side. Next to the office, a passageway through the building led to the back side of the building and had stairs leading up to the second level. It was clearly old, worn in the way only time could do.

The office door wasn’t automatic and the handle stuck slightly under his hand when he tried to turn it. But just a little bit of force had it opening.

Inside, the carpet was worn, beaten down and dull in the middle. The walls were covered in floral wallpaper rather than paint. Against one wall buzzed an ice machine and against the other sat a vending machine. A man with slicked back hair and a cane stared at the vending machine without moving. A two-seater couch was next to the vending machine with a wooden coffee table in front of it. Two women sat side-by-side on it: one in modern jeans and a windbreaker, the other in an old-fashioned dress that looked like it may have come from the sixties. They were holding magazines, but in the time it took Danny to look around, neither had flipped a page.

Cutting off the back of the room was a long desk, behind which sat a closed door. A woman sat behind the desk. Her blonde hair was cut shoulder length and curled inward. She wore bright red lipstick and heavy eye shadow. But strangest of all, she wasn’t moving. Her chest didn’t raise with her breathing, she didn’t shift in her seat. The women on the couch, at least, made the little movements people make when they’re engrossed in their reading. And the man at the vending machine was tapping his fingers on his cane as he tried to decide what to get.

But the woman at the counter was utterly still.

“Evening.” Danny’s voice was loud in the small room.

The woman in modern clothes cocked her head slightly as if trying to hear a distant noise.

“What are you reading?” Danny asked her.

She just shook her head slightly and looked back at her magazine. Slowly, she turned a page.

“Oh-kay,” said Danny to himself. He walked past them as he made his way to the desk.

As soon as he reached it, the woman came to life. She turned and smiled broadly at him and her finger started tapping on a paper log book that sat in front of her. “Well hello there. Welcome to the Two Ghost Motel!” She had a slight southern accent. “What can I do you for?”

“Uh, well. I heard you might have a room I could rent for the night.”

“Sure do,” she agreed with a nod. “Can certainly set you up with one of those.” She looked him up and down then nodded to herself. “Ah, yes. We knew you might need a place soon so we made sure you’d be able to find us. Glad to see you finally stopped in.”

“What, uh, what do you know about me?”

“Same as we know about any of our potential patrons, sweetie. That you’re a restless spirit that isn’t ready to pass on yet. Two Ghost was set up to give you a place to rest while you’re still on Earth.”

“How much would it cost for one night?”

The receptionist threw back her head and laughed. Her teeth were sharper than a normal human’s. Behind him, another voice joined in the laughter. Danny turned to see the modern-dressed woman was finally looking at him, though it was only to laugh at him.

Danny rubbed the back of his neck and smiled self-consciously. “I take it that was a stupid question?”

“Honey, there’s no charge for spending the night. Wouldn’t be much of a place to rest if we forced y’all to pay when no dead has money.”

“Right. So do you want anything in exchange? I’m pretty good at fixing things up.”

“All we want is for you to have a good night’s rest.” She turned the log book around. “I’ll just need you to put down your name here and I’ll give you your key.” She waved her hand to indicate a pen that was chained to the desk.

Danny grabbed it and hesitated just a moment before signing “Phantom” on the page. The ink was ectoplasm-green.

She took the book back and made her own marks before smiling at him. “Well that’s all in order. Now just to get you your room key.” She opened a drawer which was filled with a number of small envelopes, each with a handwritten number on them. She flipped through a few before stopping on one, seemingly at random, and pulling it out. “You’ll be in room 214. Leave the office, take a right. You can’t miss the stairs. Climb ‘em, continue to the back side of the motel, and take a right.”

Danny took the envelope from her. On it, the numbers 214 were written, with Two Ghost Motel in cursive below it. “Thank you, ma’am.”

“Enjoy your stay at Two Ghost,” she smiled one more time at him, then looked down at her logbook and froze exactly as she had been when he’d first entered.

“I appreciate your help. You sure there’s nothing I can do in exchange for the room?”

But the woman didn’t stir again. Danny shifted from foot to foot. Should he try and wake her? Was she hurt? Was this a normal ghost thing? He tapped on the desk again.

“Ma’am?”

No response.

Danny looked down at his key and back at the woman. Hesitantly, he turned towards the door, but he couldn’t help looking back frequently. He paused by the women on the couch, but neither looked up from their magazines. At the vending machine, he peered around the man.

“Do they have anything that looks good?” he asked.

The man didn’t move, so Danny shifted until he was standing right next to him and could look inside the machine.

The bottom two rows were filled with drinks, water and Gatorade took up space right next to shots of ectoplasm. And were those beers? What? Above those were a few types of nuts and candy bars and chips. Danny only recognized half the brands.

Then he noticed the package of bottle caps. “Oh man, been ages since I’ve had some bottle caps. Mind if I grab those if you haven’t decided yet?”

The man hummed and moved to the side so Danny could get to the bill input and number pad.

“Thanks, sir! Appreciate it.” He pressed the numbers for the candy to see the price, but the machine whirled to life and it was dropped down without requiring Danny to put in a single cent. “Oh, shit, did I just use your money? What do you like? I’ll get it for you as an apology.”

“I don’t… I don’t remember,” said the man. His voice was very quiet, but clear. Danny couldn’t place his accent.

“Are you looking for a snack or a drink? Sweet or savory?”

“My son always pretended he didn’t like sweets. I was going back to him. How did I end up here?”

“Dunno, sir. But if you like candy, I’d recommend the skittles if you want chewy, m&m’s if you want basic chocolate.” He opened his own package. “Hold out your hand, I’ll give you a few of these so you can see if you like them.”

The man did and looked at his own hand as if he’d never seen it before. Danny turned his package so a few bottlecaps fell out. “Thank you,” said the man.

“Sure thing. Hope you enjoy!”

The man stared at his hand a moment longer before bringing one to his mouth and chewing the candy with a pensive look on his face. “I think I remember these, but it’s been so long. Thank you.”

“Anytime. My name’s Phantom; I’m in room 214 if you need anything.”

“Phantom. Pleasure to meet you. I’m Tom.”

“Well, Mr. Tom, hope you find something to eat that you like.”

Tom hummed and turned back to look at the vending machine. Danny took one last look at the receptionist, still entirely frozen, before slipping out the door. He slipped the package of bottlecaps into his pocket; he’d eat them in his room when he could take his mask off. In the passageway to the back of the motel, two boys played jacks under a flood light.

Danny couldn’t help but pause to watch them. He’d tried playing a few times when he was younger, but Tucker wasn’t into the game and none of the other kids had been willing to spend enough time with the weird ghost-hunter’s kid to teach him.

He waited until the kid who’d been picking up the jacks tossed them back on the ground before asking, “So, who’s winning?”

Both boys looked up at him with the same blank expression. The one on the right was a red-head while the one on the left was brown haired. They were about the same age, maybe ten years old and Danny wondered what happened to bring them here.

“I never learned to play,” Danny admitted, waving a hand to indicate their game. “So I don’t know how to tell. Or, is there even a winner in jacks? I might be completely off the mark.”

The red-head raised his hand. “I’m wining. I’m on the foursies round. Alan is only on twosies.”

“Matt cheated and made me drop my jacks.”

“It wasn’t cheating, just strategy,” protested Matt.

“Cheating,” repeated Alan.

“Prove it by beating your threesies round perfectly this time.”

Danny smiled to himself as the boys returned to their game and ignored his presence entirely.

“How’d you do that?” asked someone behind him.

Danny spun around to see a boy around his own age on the stairs leaning over the railing. He had dark hair and light eyes and was dressed in modern jeans and a t-shirt.

“Do what?” asked Danny.

“Get them to talk to you. Everyone ignores me entirely.”

Danny glanced back at the two boys who were entirely absorbed in their game and not paying Danny or the stranger any attention. “They’re mostly ignoring me, too.”

The kid rolled his eyes. “But they still talked to you. I haven’t even gotten that much.”

Danny shrugged. “I just asked them about their game.”

He groaned and kicked at the railing. “I’ve tried that. Who’re you, anyway?”

“I’m Phantom. Staying here for the night because, well, just because. Who’re you?”

“Jay.”

Danny cocked his head. “Like the bird?”

Jay’s eyes widened in surprise, then he grinned back. “That’s it! I knew I was forgetting something. I’m a bird. Thanks, Phantom.”

Danny laughed. “Sure thing, birdie.” He adjusted his backpack. “Let me put this down. I’m in room 214. What’s there to do in this motel?”

Jay shrugged. “More if you can get the other people to talk to us. But the TV always has your favorite show or movie on and the vending machine in the office always has your favorite snacks.”

As Danny made his way up the stairs, Jay fell in step besides him. “What’s your favorite movie?” he asked.

Jay shrugged again. “Dunno. But every time I turn on the TV it’s playing.”

“What did you watch last, then?”

Jay hesitated a moment and when Danny looked at him, he was frowning. “I don’t…” He shook his head. “I don’t forget things. My d— Someone made sure I could give accurate reports. But I don’t remember.” He looked at Danny with his brow furrowed. “Why don’t I remember?”

Danny shrugged. “Well, when we get to my room, we can turn on the TV and see what comes on.”

Jay brightened immediately at the suggestion. “Duh! That’ll remind me. Thanks, Phantom! Come on, your room’s this way. We’re neighbors; I’m in 215.” He jogged the rest of the way up the stairs so Danny had to speed up, too.

At the top of the stairs, Jay took a right and Danny’s door was several down.

“Home sweet home,” he said, gesturing to the door.

Danny laughed as he unlocked it. “So how long have you been here?” He pushed open his door and took in the space. The carpet looked like it hadn’t been upgraded since the seventies. A double bed sat against one wall covered by a faded, green paisley quilt. A low dresser and box TV against the opposite wall. Most of the wall facing the walkway was taken up with a large window, though the closed blinds kept it private.

It wasn’t until Danny stepped in and dropped his bags on the bed that he realized Jay had neither responded nor followed him in.

“Birdie? Jay? You okay?”

Jay was frozen outside the door staring out into the distance away from the motel. The back of the motel had very few lights, and the night made it seem like there was nothing out there but endless black. When Danny called out, Jay shook himself and grinned as he entered the room and sat down on Danny’s bed with enough force to bounce. “Course I’m okay! Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You spaced out there for a minute.”

Jay rolled his eyes. “No I didn’t. Where’s your remote?” Before Danny could do anything, Jay was already standing and picking it up from the dresser. He turned on the TV. “Oooh, the Godfather! Told you it always has your favorite movie.”

“So The Godfather is your favorite?”

“Of course.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever actually seen it all the way through.”

“Then you’re in for a treat! Come on, sit next to me. I’ll make sure you notice all the good parts.”

Danny did as told. Which is when he remembered he still had the candy. Wordlessly, he held it out to Jay who grinned as he took a few to snack on.

-----

Chapter 2

Hope you enjoyed chapter 1! This was so much fun to write. I loved taking part in the event so much. Please consider checking out the rest of the art and fics from this event because there are so many talented people who took part. (My reading list is gonna be filled for at least the rest of the year, no lie.)

Just search the tag #ectoimplosion2023 to see what I mean.

#dpxdc #ectoimplosion2023 #danny fenton #jason todd #the two ghost motel #my writing #danny has electricity trauma #and seeing his parents make then destroy a proto-ghost #...#well it wasn't good for him #but will where he ends up be any better?

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 4 months

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WIBTA for writing a story? ✨ (emoji so I can find this easily)

So around a year and a half ago, as part of a drama exam me and a group of four others had to devise a piece to act out for the exam.

Me and two others who were the actors (the other two did the set and music) ended up really liking the story and characters we were creating for the project and all wanted to expand on the story we'd created for the exam.

The three of us me (currently 16 NB) and the other two who I'll call Alex (currently 17 M) and Rowan (currently 16 NB) made a discord server for the three of us to talk about the characters we'd made together and share ideas for how we'd develop them if we turned the performance we were writing into a story/book series.

This was a lot of fun and at first I really enjoyed discussing ideas about the characters we'd created but after a while I started to find myself disliking some of the others' ideas more and more and wanting to write the series on my own.

I never acted on that though because the three of us were all passionate about our ideas and the characters so the idea of writing my own version felt wrong when the others wanted to write the story too as a group.

Now since then, Rowan has stopped talking to both me and Alex. I haven't heard from Rowan since May and honestly I don't really want to hear from them again because since we stopped talking I realized our friendship really wasn't very healthy for either of us. During this time they deleted discord but their account was still in the server.

Alex had disappeared offline since January but recently returned five months ago. We caught up and at first we talked about our ideas, the characters and how we wanted to turn it into a book series again, during this we kicked Rowan's account from the discord because neither of us spoke with them anymore. After a while we stopped talking much about the characters and our ideas and just started talking about random things. But last week Alex left the discord unannounced and I haven't heard from him at all since.

Now, I know Alex might return sometime like he left and returned before and I know this is pretty soon but while he's gone and since I'm no longer in contact with Rowan, I've found myself wanting to try writing the story myself with complete freedom to write the story I want to write and not have to use the others' ideas that I don't like.

It wouldn't feel so wrong anymore since they're not still there discussing their ideas or talking about how we should all write it together as a group but I do feel a little unsure if this would be an assholeish thing to do. I mean, I'd be writing about the characters we all created together, using the base story idea we all created for the project and I don't know if Alex will return or not yet.

So, would I be the asshole if I wrote the story by myself?

Additional info.

Idk if any of this is relevant but it might help with the judgement/I feel like people would ask for info about this stuff if I didn't add it.

The ideas I disliked were mainly to do with the development of a certain character, a ship that really would not make any sense and Alex wanting to add in a talking magical dinosaur to the plot of what was meant to be a story set in the modern day real world.

We never actually tried to write the story as a group before, we just talked about it.

None of us see each other IRL anymore.

I have got ADHD and autism.

There wouldn't be anything nsfw in the story.

None of the characters were based on any of us.

There are a lot of reasons why mine and Rowan's friendship wasn't healthy for either of us but to give a few reasons we didn't really care about each other's interests (like fandoms), would consistently cancel on hangouts with each other or would get into arguments over stupid stuff and not talk for weeks only to go back to being clingy with each other when we started talking again. Looking back, it was definitely an unhealthy friendship for both of us.

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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rupertgayes · 2 months

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How would you pitch watching Due South to someone who doesn't know it?

THE PREMISE: mountie from the northern reaches of canada goes to chicago to avenge dead dad (also a mountie), gets into buddy-cop shenanigans with a detective. said detective leaves the show in season 3 and gets replaced by another detective, shenanigans continue to ensue. there's also a dog. he's very cute.

THE PITCH: honestly, after being in the spn fandom and having most of popular culture awash with prestige shows (that are not spn, but like spn are typically dark and gritty and like killing characters off too) and having most of the popular media landscape try to cover their collective asses by having an aloof, 'you-can't-make-fun-of-this-because-we're-not-taking-it-seriously-ourselves' air, it was truly refreshing to sit down with a close friend of mine and check out this show.

i'm being completely serious when i say there's a certain je ne sais quoi about this show. is it because it's from the 90s? perhaps. is it because it's canadian? maybe. i wasn't even alive when this show first started airing and i'm not a media analyst. it basically takes the premise of the dudeley do-right cartoon and asks 'okay, but what if that was like, a real guy?' and fucking runs with it to the wildest heights. it's a comedy, but it's also so bizarre in some ways that it makes it a truly unique treat to watch. i love psych and brooklyn 99 for having a comedic procedural aspect, and neither of them are comparable in whatever it is that due south is doing.

there's honestly a lot of heart and soul in the entire show, and it has the ability to shift from just being comedic to having drama, mystery, and moments that pull at your heartstrings. it's a show that you can enjoy on the surface as a fun episodic show with fun characters and fun moments, but it also lends itself quite well to extrapolating on the characters, their motivations, etc. (and by etc i'm also including any shipping you might want to do).

i won't say it's a paragon of DEI, but again, i think it has a level of earnestness which makes any slip-ups it does have something i can kinda view with indulgence, versus shows that are making the same (or worse) mistakes 20+ years after this show already ended. these characters are treated with a level of dignity and respect, and i think overall the characterization is pretty consistent - there are some shifts happening between seasons 1-2 and 3-4, but i feel like it has more to do with budgets, a change in creative team, etc., versus writers not 'getting' certain characters.

there's also a lot of memorable episodes, scenes, bits. i think the latter seasons are more campy (my favorite) and some eps from s1 and 2 make for legitimately some great television. even the more mid episodes have something worthwhile, too. some of my fave moments in no order:

fraser (the mountie) saving and talking to? a rat in a strip club

also him going to a leather club

twice

and meeting a mountie in a latex version of his red serge uniform

using a tarp as a parachute

mafia egg conspiracy

aliens??

due south but make it silence of the lambs a little bit

performance arsonist

lake pirates? ghost ship?

also why are most of the major bad guys here doing some form of environmental crime? get your captain planet on ig, i'm into it

also fellow cops can also be bad guys. acab ig??

sick muscle cars eric kripke himself would've enjoyed. sometimes they get set on fire tho

due south but make it to wong foo thanks for everything

fraser running away from women so he doesn't have to kiss or interact with them

way too much time in closets, in general.

fellas is it gay to ask your new partner of one week maybe to pretend he's a woman so he can decide if he finds you attractive

there are red ships and green ships but no ships like partnerships :)

and to reiterate about the dog: there's a dog who's half wolf and all deaf and fraser can talk to him 'because he (the dog) reads lips'

his dead dad shows up too sometimes

anyway, it was really nice to watch this show for the first time, there are still moment i scream-laugh at because they're just so ridiculous and i'd never catch any other moments like that in any other show. i definitely see why there's still active fans for it thirty years later. there's also some wild shipping fodder here, which is at least partially why there are still fics getting written for these guys today. destiel if the cw weren't cowards etc etc. when i watched the finale, i cried tears of joy because while i'd miss the characters, they got an ending that actually seemed to fit, instead of it being a rush job, which is not unique to spn but, you know.

also you can watch it for free on youtube rn.

#asks #i did go from the pilot to s3 personally but my friend wanted me to see the second ray asap lol #the whole show is good tho! great even :)#due south #ds30below

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elvisabutler · 2 years

Text

good girls clean up their messes

summary: austin didn't used to have a housewife kink and neither did you. funny how life-uh- finds a way to change that. fandom: austin butler rating: m pairing: austin butler x female reader word count: 2100 warnings: housewife kink. unprotected p in v ( though can be read as committed relationship birth control situation ). cleaning kink? minor breeding kink. praise kink. brief mention of the pandemic and how austin was a recluse for a bit. author's note: welcome to day 25 of kinktober, housewife kink with austin butler. this was fun. truly i'd actually have written more but i had this view of cleaning in my head vs anything else. so honestly, anyone asks and i'll write a whole big long thing about it but for now, enjoy this little tiny thing. also thank you @pennyroyalcreep for being the one to ask for this. i had hoped someone would choose austin for this kink vs anyone else so i was pleased as punch about it when you did.

You were never made to be a housewife, you've told Austin this on more than one occasion. Even when you first met him and were first talking to him, you told him that despite how perhaps you looked it, all warm and inviting, it wasn't your sort of style. Life had a funny way of changing those things sometimes. It started out slow, after all you were the one with a faintly normal nine to five-ish job, he was the one who had to jet across the world half the time. It made sense that you would keep where you were living and he at least- stopped by clean. You weren't a heathen, you knew how to make your house look presentable. The first time Austin had come back from being away for a while was the Elvis press tour and he had been expecting to see the house in some sort of disarray, maybe you hadn't been keeping up with the laundry or maybe their were dishes piled up in the sink. Instead, what greeted him was his girlfriend- the woman he fell in love with when the world went to shit, he became a goddamn recluse for six months, and everyone had let things fall by the wayside- in her pjs doing the dishes with these stupid little green gloves that in your own words- "kept me from getting dirty while cleaning".

All Austin could think about when he saw you that way is making you as dirty as he could. His teeth bit at his lower lip, picturing you taking off those gloves, making a show of it as he just sank to his knees and showed you just how much he appreciated your effort to keep the place clean. In fact, that had been what he decided to do the moment he wrapped his arms around your waist and you had let out a small gasp at his clothed erection.

It got worse after that, with him finding every excuse to just watch you clean and you finding that you didn't mind. You wanted to show Austin how you could keep things going, wanted his praise telling you how good you were, how he had the best girlfriend that he'll marry when he gets just a minute to himself. How you made everything so clean only for him to dirty it up with you. How you clean up the kitchen when the two of you cook knowing fully well he wants to have his dessert on the table, spread out on the tablecloth, chasing your pleasure higher and higher until he has to suck on your clit just so in a way that has you almost breaking the table when you come back down to Earth with a thump.

Bikeriders is- complicated when it comes to him coming home and you hate it, it's led to you having to show him FaceTime videos of the clean bedroom and the dishes and him forcing them to let him take a break because he just wants to eat dinner with his girlfriend. It's led to praise being over text and over the phone with him stroking his cock and you curling your own fingers inside yourself or using that one vibrator Austin hates. You miss him and he misses you just as much if his moans are anything to go by, if his grunts and whispers of your name are anything to go by.

It's a Saturday and you find that there's more than a bit more dust in the house than you'd like, that and you've let the glass door leading out to the backyard remain a little too dirty for your liking. Austin had mentioned the possibility of being able to fly in for the weekend, something about an award or a round table discussion but he hadn't told you when he'd be coming in. You take a chance on him coming in early, choosing to be a little silly and wear a French maid costume you had bought for yourself last Halloween and turn on your cleaning playlist, allowing the mix of electroswing, rock and jazz fly through the air as you got started on your efforts. The door is easy enough, done in about thirty minutes and left to settle before you would go back and see if you missed any spots. Now came the hard part, the dusting that usually would have you sniffling by the end of it but you hoped it would be different this time.

Your wish is granted, just not in the way you planned for it as Austin opens the door to the house and walks in only to find you bent over, no underwear under the costume you're wearing and he has to bite his lip to swallow the groan that threatens to escape him at the image and the knowledge. He knows perfectly well how engrossed you get in your music when you're cleaning, having once snuck up on you and swayed to the beat of the music for what felt like ten minutes- it was only five- before you realized his presence and had abandoned your task. You're near the window you had just cleaned, dusting the bottom part of an end table nearby and Austin drops his bags quietly, allowing himself to sneak up on you until you feel his hands grip your hips. The gasp that leaves you is closer to the breath leaving your body, especially as Austin uses his grip to pull you into a standing position, feeling just how hard you've already made him.

"Hey baby." He murmurs into your ear, kissing the side of your neck and nipping at your earlobe. "No panties and you're dusting in this. You love painting such a pretty picture for me, don't you?"

The voice you have, the one that normally snarks at him leaves your head right in that exact moment knowing fully well you need to use it. Your answer is predictable because of it. "I have to make sure my hardworking man comes home to a nice clean house." You swallow and shake your head a little, ignoring how Austin's hands are sliding up your torso, making their way to your chest. "I've seen how messy his hotel rooms can get."

His laugh vibrates against your back and the noise slips into one ear only to settle in your brain, you missed hearing that laugh in person. "Low blow. Valid, but is that any way to treat me after all this time?"

A giggle leaves your mouth unprompted as you try and focus on dusting once more. "Yeah, maybe just a little."

He hums as an answer to your sass, cupping your breasts as he grinds against you slowly. "Want to fuck you, baby. Want to make a mess of you while you clean."

Your breath quickens just slightly as you grind back against him, allowing you to feel the roughness of the fabric of his pants against your bare ass before you pull away, smoothing down your skirt. "I've still got to dust around the door, Austin."

The noise that comes out of him when you moves sounds like a growl as he pulls you against him again. When he speaks it comes out almost as a whine. "I can just flip up that skirt while you're dusting, baby. Promise I won't make you smudge the nice clean window with your body. Just want to fuck you against the door."

You know your neighbors can likely see what Austin's doing, see how he's slowly pinning you against the door, the front of your body pressed against the cool glass, giving you some relief from how hot just having Austin pressed against you is making you feel. Your answer comes out in a pant.

"Fine. Just, you're doing the top of the door, you tree."

Austin would have laughed at you calling him a tree if he wasn't so distracted with undoing his pants and pulling down his boxers as he flipped up the skirt, exposing your now wet core to the air of the room. Unbidden, a small keen escapes your mouth as he pushes into you without warning. It's not unwelcome, but you hadn't expected him to go all in immediately. Your ass grinds backwards against him as you brace yourself against the door.

"Fuck. So fucking wet for me. You're- Perfect. That's- Got the best girlfriend, cleaning my house, cleaning the dishes, wearing outfits like this. Didn't even have this kink before but god." His words are punctuated by his thrusts, each one causing you to thump against the glass. "My pretty little housewife, doesn't even need to cook but she does. Doesn't need to do all of this but you do this just for me. You going to keep doing it? When I marry you do I get to keep this little housewife?"

"Not a housewife, Aus." You huff out a laugh, focusing on the noises of his cock entering and exiting you, it sounds like there's so much fluid that you swear you'd be surprised if there's not a puddle below your feet when you're done. "Still got my job."

"Doesn't make you any less of one." He growls against the shell of your ear, his hands dipping in between the fabric of the outfit and your skin to squeeze your breast and then your nipple. "You're gonna be my housewife, aren't you? Even when we get married you'll keep the house clean. Even when I give you a baby, you'll do it, won't you."

Your cunt clenches around him at the last part, causing embarrassment to flood your system as he chuckles. "Full of my kid, cleaning my house, making food, being such a good girl. My gorgeous housewife, my fantastic housewife that I don't deserve."

If your head starts to roll back against his shoulder, neither one of you comment on it, instead Austin uses it as a chance to kiss your neck, nipping at it occasionally as he keeps thrusting into you, stealing your breath when he hits just the right angle. One of your hands drifts toward your clit, trying to see if you can come before Austin swats it out of the way.

"No, let me take care of that. Don't want to get that pretty pussy all dirty with dust. Let me reward you, baby." He whispers as he moves to rub it, allowing you to gasp at the sensation. You can see smudges forming from your hands, from your breasts, from your skin against the glass and you find you don't mind just this once. Instead you allow yourself to grind against, his fingers, his ass, just allow yourself to move in whatever way you can to chase your high. Austin's hips are starting to stutter, his thrusts become a little erratic as he feels himself about to come before he pinches your clit in a way that should be painful but has you hitting your head against the glass door lightly, your cunt clenching around his cock, milking it as he comes with a groan against your neck. You stay like that for a few minutes, both of your legs too shaky to move before he pulls out of you, earning a mild sob of distress from your throat.

He turns you around to let himself kiss you, his thigh moving to between your legs just in case you want to rock against it. You do just slightly before you speak. "You made me smudge the glass."

Austin's laugh and smile fill the whole room with sunlight you didn't realize just how much you were missing until that exact moment. He shrugs. "I did, didn't I? Guess I'll just have to watch you clean it again. Oh no, what a tragedy."

You smack him lightly with the duster and point to the top of the door. "Laugh it up, Aus. Do that and I'll think about it."

He moves his thigh, allowing his knee to press against your clit. "My perfect little housewife isn't going to stand for that dirt. I'm getting to watch it."

It's then that you finally move his thigh back, allowing you to walk away from him, hips swaying just so as you walk to pick up the glass cleaner from the floor, exposing your cunt leaking his cum to him. "Maybe. Depends on how nice your housewife is feeling. Get to cleaning, Aus. The clock is ticking."

You both forget about cleaning about fifteen minutes in. Oh well, there was always tomorrow.

#austin butler #austin butler x reader #austin butler x you #austin butler smut #austin butler fanfic #austin butler fanfiction #austin butler x y/n #austin butler fic #austin butler imagine #ally's kinktober 2022 #ally writes #kinktober 2022 #yeah i did finished this one pretty quickly this morning. fascinating what quiet time does for a girl.

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heartshapedcreaturefromcriptoon · 27 days

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I can't believe there is a "Cursed Cat Alastor Controversy" and that once again I had to have the evil lepreconartist who lords over the fandom making his gold off of Medrano's despair explain to me in order to understand what the fuck is going in on the fandom, yet again ... But I kind of hate you all so here's my hot take...

It's actual petty bullshit.

It's the equivalent of a fanartist calling out an AMV maker for "art theft" and demanding that a video they worked hard on be taken down because they used a piece of fanart for a character in an AMV tribute to the character that both the fanartist and the AMV maker (who is already an artist in their own right) already do not actually fucking own. Like, regardless if the AMV maker gives the fanartist credit. Instead of being honored by it, when they should know better that neither of them ever actually even own the shit to begin with, yet they still demand "credit" for fanwork.

I once saw a popular Asian artist in the svtfoe fandom demanding a boycott of the popular fan run merch store TheMysteryShack just as the beautiful fan made artbook Tales of Rebel Princess was about to launch exclusively through there because she alleged that the shop owner had stolen one of her friends fanart designs on a goddamn fucking Steven Universe tarot card pack of all things but I still really liked her Star fanart, so when I tried to respectfully explain to her that I wouldn't be boycotting the shop because of Tales of Rebel Princes launching and how I thought it was personally in very poor taste to not just contact the shop owner privately about the matter and instead making a big stink in public about boycotting his shop when she knew that one of her other artist friends that we knew she had also collaborated with in the past was just about to debut another big collaborative art tribute book dedicated to Daron and Star vs. there through this guys shop! And essentially it would be sad to see her knowingly taking business away from her other friend like that and demanding others in her following do the same and over something as small as a deck of Steven Universe cards, especially in understanding how little love svtfoe gets, since she was also a well known svtfoe fanartist ... All I got in response was "Well I'm happy for my friend but I'm Korean and you're just a Filthy American who couldn't possibly understand how disrespectful something like this is in my culture and blah blah blah if you instant on further harassing me about this I'll block you!"

And I was basically like "suit yourself being fake and having a stick up your butt honey I'm still getting my Star vs. artbook!"

And then she blocked me.

Good riddance. As if Miss Heinous would honestly ever head bang to Ruberiot...

But I guess what I'm trying to get here is that like...Oh, I'm sorry? You wanna make fanart for western cartoons? You gotta play by western rules then. Like it's late night here and I'm sorry if that sounds harsh. But it's true.

If Aurelio Voltaire honestly deserves to have a deal be cut in my opinion so he can finally officially own his share of the "Vampair" series after Daria Cohen stole his voice to make it (half dry humor, half serious here, to be quite frank about this) then coma0423 deserves to cut a deal so that Amir Talai can have a bit of financial comprehension and his percentage of whatever kind of (I'm guessing financial) ~"credit'~ that Coma is now demanding from other fanartists who make Cursed Cat Alastor fan merch since Talai , after all, did design the original concept sketch that would become Cursed Cat Alastor that Coma saw and then decided to just runaway with when they made the meme ...

Listen to me... Fanart belongs to everyone and no one by nature of it being made by fans and no one can truly own a "fan concept" expect for the true creator of the thing that it's based on. Unless that thing is already in the public domain. And if it is it becomes Schrodinger's Cheshire Cat.

Schrodinger's Cursed Cat Alastor belongs to everyone and no one, babe. He belongs to The Hazbin Hotel Fandom and The Hazbin Hotel. If he actually becomes canon in the show somehow, then he'll belong to Amir and Viv, actually, maybe Coma will get proper credit then, but the concept won't even really be theirs anymore, just as it even isn't really officially theirs now, even if they officially do get hired.

First you're telling me that I'm not allowed to fuck the radio demon ... Now you're telling me that I'm apparently not even allowed to kiss a cute wittle kitty cat plushie of him between the space on his head between his ears if said plush wasn't crafted by or sold explicitly by the fanartist who again, stole the concept sketch of him from Amir Talai in the first place?

No. This is nonsense.

Stop making all these petty dramas off someone else's work that only feed the evil leprechaun more gold off of someone else's work or start making you're own original work from your own original concept that you can actually claim your own copyright to I'm exhausted.

Ever hear the phrase once something leaves your brain it belongs to everyone, not just you anymore?

This goes triple for anyone making fanart of someone else's work and that's a fact. Especially if it's only ever an extremely memed up version of an already canonically existing character that you were only so lucky went viral.

Stop the bullying. No one fanwork is that special. Just do your best to honor the source material and be flattered by other fanartists imitations of your fanartist imitation... It's the circle of cursed kitties and it feeds us all. *smacks paw down*

#Hazbin Hotel #hazbin hypocritical #Cursed Cat Alastor #Alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #the radio demon #alastor hazbin #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel cast #amir talai #fanart #fanwork #fandom fuckery #big name fan bullshit #It's getting late and I don't know what else to tag this as honestly...#Just accept that not everything is yours to start out with in fandom spaces and learn to let your little darlings go ...#Best advice I can come up with before bed ...#bnf bullshit

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tbgkaru-woh · 9 days

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hi hi hi!!! since last time u asked for hcs or ideas, and i couldn't come up with any in the moment, I AM HERE TO SHARE (mine) AND ASK UR OPINIONS ON XIANXUAN (WWX X JZX) NOW... 😩

dont even get me started, personally for me, its HARD TO NOT ship two men who have punched each other for at least once in their life. AND WHEN THEY BOTH ACTUALLY HV CONSIDERATION FOR EO DEEP DOWN LIKE from hating each other's guts to punching each other's face to competing to an extent (over one girl literally) to actually having no hard feelings for each other to having consideration deep down for each other to believing in each other (to love the girl genuinely) to wwx accidentally and unintentionally killing jzx to mourning over his death and blaming himself for all of it to living again and taking care of his child...😩 i...ok half of the grief came bcs of shijie but ONE CAN IMAGINE AAAAH.

im sorry for making this long, help. (honestly ure the first ever acc i have found shipping them in one of ur arts so i HAVE to rant omg)

i love their dynamic sm, somehow i want wwx to top jzx at any fucking cost. WHY ?! because he wanna prove he's better and better and BETTER than this fucking peacock and he wanna crush his attitude so bad like...and jzx just tryna keep up with him and this fucker is back with new tricks to put him where he belongs. then ends up putting him under himself. oMG. help. im crazy. bye.

SJSHSKSK MY GOD. looks like im gonna go on a brainrot.

They were some of the most obvious to me too only to find no one talking about them, I guess the whole WangXian tunnel-vision and Jin Zixuan not having a fandom will do that to a dynamic.

I just hoped in canon they'd have...more. I wanted to see their arc, I wanted them to fight side by side, wanted to see Zixuan defend Wei Wuxian in front of the gossipy pricks and his word mattering to them, wanted to see Wei Wuxian punch someone for Jin Zixuan, instead of punching him for Yanli.

Straight Zixuan is also extremely boring to me and him secretly crushing on the brothers, maybe even popping a boner while wwx gets REAL CLOSE to him during a fight and needing to leave RIGHT NOW... He'll be a good bridge between the two, he's quiet, arrogant and loyal to duty as Jiang Cheng is, but wwx is what he wished he could be like in certain aspects, not to say that with their constant teasing and play-fights, some truths will come out sooner rather than later.

And when it comes to smut I love to imagine that something that starts as a hate fuck with neither backing down but both their inexperience starts showing but unlike jzx who's more honestly embarrassed about it, wwx has this fake confidence and "need-to-take-cate-of" impulse that turn it into something a bit clumsy but respectful and with a genuine goal of the other enjoying it. Maybe wwx can keep it as their secret,as jzx parades himself around like the straight guy people think he is afterwards.

#xianxuan #wei wuxian #jin zixuan #mdzs #hcs #i typed in mfzs at first #mother fucker zu shi

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coraniaid · 2 months

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Character asks:

Xander, 1 and 21.

1 Why do you like or dislike this character?

Going to focus on the why part and avoid coming to a firm conclusion about the implicit binary choice.

Season 5's The Replacement posits that there are two Xanders -- one suave and self-confident, one a bumbling walking punchline -- before revealing that both of these Xanders are equally real and exist as aspects of the true and singular Xander, with neither having primacy over the other. However, while there are indeed two diametrically opposed versions of Xander Harris, real fans of the show know that they don't exactly correspond to what the show suggests here. The true distinction is between, on the one hand, the Xander who grows up miserable and alone in an abusive household and is determined not to become his father and who loves and supports his friends unconditionally and is maybe/probably/definitely bi but doesn't seem to realize it yet and, on the other hand, the Xander who makes frequent gross sexual comments about all the women he knows and visibly and bitterly resents the ways they outshine him and who considers it his moral duty to give them terrible, patronising, unsolicitied advice about their personal lives whenever he can.

As in The Replacement, both versions of the character have equal claim to be the 'real' Xander. The much more irritating one is perhaps more present in the early seasons (especially when the writers genuinely seem to be trying to set him up in an actual love triangle with Buffy herself, but also throughout much of his 'romance' with Cordelia) but he never really goes away, even after the writers started trying to find new things to do with his character from The Zeppo onwards. He shows up in Season 5 to explain to Buffy how it's all her fault that her boyfriend metaphorically cheated on her while she was selfishly worrying about her sick mother and he's actually a really great guy Buffy never properly appreciated (he doesn't say "can I have sex with Riley too?" in this episode, but he might as well have done); he shows up in Season 6 to sulk about the fact that the woman he left at the altar dared to sleep with somebody who wasn't him and how much she "disgusts" him as a result; he shows up in Season 7 to help kick Buffy out of her own house.

But, equally, the sympathetic, loyal and, yes, even heroic Xander isn't just some post hoc fandom creation either. There are hints even earlier, but Season 3 and especially Season 4 really do make it clear that Xander's home life is horrific. He does risk his life to save Buffy's in Prophecy Girl, even when Angel wouldn't, even after Buffy had been clear she didn't reciprocate his feelings toward her. He does eventually admit to some of his worst behaviour (his jealousy about Angel, his betrayal of Cordelia). His treatment of Anya, while horrible, really does make sense as an attempt to do the right thing for somebody he cares about by somebody almost utterly consumed by self-loathing.

His speech to Buffy in the second half of The Freshman ("when it's dark and I'm all alone and I'm scared [...] I always ask: what would Buffy do? You're my hero.") is, despite what he says immediately afterwards, genuinely touching. The way that, in The Replacement, even the cowardly incompetent side of Xander is willing to risk his life to protect Anya from what he thinks is a demon is honestly kind of sweet. His speech to Willow at the end of Season 6's Grave ("I'm not joking [...] I can't imagine the pain you're in [...] You're Willow [...] I love you") and to his speech to Dawn in Season 7's Potential ("You gave her your power [...] You're not special. You're extraordinary") both feel like genuinely well-earned moments in light of everything we've seen of Xander so far.

The fundamental tension inherent to Xander is that he doesn't smoothly and effortlessly develop from one version of the character to the other. It's not as simple as the grating Xander from the early seasons "getting better". Both sides of his character are present -- and either side can be dominant -- from the very beginning of the show and right until the end.

21 If you're a fic writer and have written for this character, what's your favorite thing to do when you're writing for this character? What's something you don't like?

Well, I am a fic writer and I have, technically, written for this character (he is the POV character for one fairly short chapter of Coexist.) I think he is a very hard character to write well (especially in the high school seasons) and I'm not at all sure I managed.

Honestly, I think well-written fanfic takes on Xander that actually treat him seriously as a character are incredibly rare. (Off the top of my head I can think of exactly one example. I'm sure there are others -- and I'm sure part of the issue is that I only really read a particular subset of Buffy fanfic -- but I doubt there are many others.)

I think a lot of fanfic writers really just don't like Xander at all (and so only write the horrible Xander, if that, and only so they can have the characters they like call him out on his worst behaviour), whereas other writers lean too heavily into the sympathetic Xander (and either have him explicitly realize and denounce his own poor behaviour early on or just write a meek and mild 'Xander' who just needs a hug and who has never even thought about saying anything inappropriate to any woman ever, which ... well, that's not the character that appears on screen, is it?).

I think the trick to writing Xander well, such as it is -- and the approach I tried to take myself -- is to try to treat him as sympathetically as possible without pretending he isn't often prone to jealousy and making mean-spirited comments, that he isn't a bit of a massive hypocrite at times and that he doesn't often say "funny" things that aren't when he shouldn't. That's harder than just playing up the angle that Xander's parents are awful and he's trying his best and suggesting he'd be much happier if he just followed Anya's advice to Buffy and found a "nice, boring, boyfriend", but I think if you don't try you're not writing a sympathetic version of Xander Harris so much as you're creating a whole new character.

Yes, Xander (mostly) is trying his best, and his parents (especially his father) are awful, but very often Xander's best is far from good enough. He will say awful things sometimes and he probably won't apologize for it, even if he does secretly feel ashamed by it. You have to try to write both versions of Xander -- both the one that makes sense as one of Buffy and Willow's best friends and the one who really doesn't seem to have anything in common with them at all -- if you're going to write the Xander.

That being said, the absolute worst thing you can do to Xander is give him magical powers or superhuman fighting skills so he can Help Buffy Patrol. That's not who he is! That's not true to either version of the character!

(... sorry, I lied. That's the second worst thing you can do to Xander. The actual worst thing is what the comics do with him and Dawn. No super-powered fantasy fanfic could be more horrible and ill-advised than that.)

#btvs #asks #thanks!

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saturnsorbits · 2 years

Text

Shadows

Fandom: My Hero Academia, Warnings: Dark Content, NonCon to Con-NonCon, Villain!Kirishima (Blood Riot), Villain!Bakugo (Ground Zero), Rough Sex, Audio Voyeurism, Forced Breeding, A Smidge of Suggested KiriBaku. If I’ve Missed Anything Please Let Me Know! Word Count: 4.1k.

Summary: Blood Riot has a bone to pick with your boyfriend, but neither of you could have guessed it would also help you both indulge in a dark fantasy.

-> This piece contains DARK CONTENT - please heed the warnings <-

A/N: Just a quick thank you to @/kingkatsuki (not tagging bc I don’t want to be a bother 😅) for giving this a little read over a few months ago. Her comments where an invaluable comfort and lead me to re-write this piece with (hopefully) a little more spice. It’s still not as ‘dark’ as I’d like, but I’m trying. Okay, guys 🤣

Having such an incredible person, not only as a fellow writer, but as a friend is honestly more than I could ask for. Jo is one of the most amazingly talented people i’ve ever met and one of the nicest, most encouraging people on this whole damn site to boot. She’s a credit to all of us, the community and the characters she writes for. We’re not worthy of her, truly. Thank you, Jo! 💕

Your keys are clutched in your fist before you even leave the building. The metal is cold against your skin as you readjust your grip, the slender stem of the mortice key sticking out from just below your curled palm. Excitement thrums in your veins.

'Do'ya need me to walk you home?' Your colleague, Mirio, smiles pressing a palm to the glass of the lobby door. He stands aside, letting you pass.

'Best not.' You arc your eyebrows, shifting your weight from one foot to the other, anxious to get going.

'It's just – It's dark and y'know...' He swallows, throat bobbing as he flashes a grin and steps closer lowering his voice to a whisper. '… That villain was seen a few blocks from here. You don't want to risk running into the likes of him on your own.'

You resist the urge to laugh, biting down on your lip hard to stop the chuckle that threatens to bubble up your throat. That, you don't tell him, is exactly what you want. 'I'll be fine.'

'Are you sure?' Pulling a hand from his pocket, Mirio reaches out tapping his fingers against your elbow. 'I'm pretty good company.'

Forcing a smile to your lips, you take a measured step away. 'I'm meeting my boyfriend. I think I'll be fine.'

Instantly, Mirio's face bursts into flames. 'Oh.' He looks at his shoes, then back up again – a faint dusting of rose still clear on his cheeks.

'Well, I should get going then. Make sure you get home safe, yeah?'

'See you next week.' Throwing up a small wave, you turn, not bothering to wait for him to return your pleasantry before you're almost bolding down the road.

It's a nice-enough night. There are a few clouds lingering in the sky, dragged along by a steady breeze that bites at the tips of your elbows and knees. Quiet consumes the street, broken only by the distant hum of a late-night taxi fare and the consistent tap-tap-tap of your heels as you hurry as fast as your half-freezing legs can carry you.

You're barely half-way home when something moves in the darkness behind you. The pool of light offered by the street-lamps are no match for the pitch that obscures anything more than a few feet from each island of safety. Even if you wanted to see anything lingering in the night, you're not sure you'd be able to.

Swallowing, you resist the urge to run as your senses kick into high-gear. With your heart jack-rabbiting in your chest, it's hard to hear the tell-tale crunching of boots on concrete, but you know they're there. Hauling in a breath, you clutch your keys tighter and then, take a very deliberate left turn down a thin, dingy alleyway. You're barley a dozen steps in when you hear the footsteps stop. A shadow looms over you, blocking out the fragile light of the moon. The hairs on your body prickle as goose-flesh coats your arms, but you don't turn around: not yet.

'What do we have here?'

The voice sends a shiver of pure ice down your spine. Your throat constricts, stomach dropping through the floor as a new, very real fear wraps around your lungs.

That isn't the voice of your boyfriend.

Within seconds the footsteps start up again. They creep forward, each step bringing with it the grind of rubber and the dull clank of metal. The shadow on the concrete stretches, swelling as it swallows more and more of the alleyway in front of you. 'Dangerous for a silly, little thing like you to be out this late. Didn't anyone tell you...'

You can feel his breath on your neck as he spits his words onto your skin. There's a low growl, something that reverberates in his throat and then he's leaning down and speaking right beside your ear. '… There's a villain on the loose.'

Spinning on a heel, you readjust your keys in your hand before driving the blunt edge of your key into his chest, but as soon as it collides with hardened skin it snaps.

There's a low chuckle from above you. 'Got some fight in you, huh?’

Your mouth runs dry.

Blood Riot is a sight to behold. Towering above you with ease, his chin tilted down, you can just make out the flash of a dark, split tongue as he flicks it out to lick at his teeth. A mane of deep red frames his face, falling down his back in rough waves that cut off just below his shoulders. His costume leaves little to the imagination, giving you full view of his broad chest and the thick layer of black hair that trails between bulging muscles before dipping below the waistband of his belt.

'Am I a disappointment?' He cocks his head. 'You where expecting someone else, weren't you?.. Ground Zero is a little tied up, I'm afraid.'

'He knows I'm here...' Taking another step backwards, you try and control the hammering in your chest. 'He'll -'

'Oh, sweetheart.' Sucking air over his teeth, Kirishima groans before crowding you in. He pins you to the wall effortlessly, a large hand around the base of your neck. There's no pressure, not yet, but that doesn't stop him from squeezing experimentally with thick fingers to hear you squeak. 'He isn't coming to save you...' He leans in, breathing on your cheeks. 'You see... Your little boyfriend has been getting in my way. I’ve tried to warm him, sweetheart, I have, but you know how stubborn he can be and now… Well, now I think it's time I taught him a lesson.'

'What did you...' The stone in your stomach sinks making swallowing difficult, but even before you've attempted to lift your leg to kick out at him, he's pressing his bulk against you.

Calloused fingers drag up the outside of your thigh, catching against the hem of your skirt and dragging the material upwards. 'Lucky for me, it looks like having a big, bad villain for a boyfriend is making you get a bit brave walking about in the dark.' A smile curls his lip showing pointed teeth that shine centimetres from your face. 'It's almost as if you're looking for trouble, huh?'

'Please.' Fear drips down your spine until it begins to pool in your stomach. You squeeze your eyes shut, feeling the heat of him press in and radiate through your body. Hand reaching for your pocket, you struggle to pat at the side of your jacket trying and failing to place your phone.

'Nah-ah-ah.' Kirishima slips the device from your fingers before they even gain purchase. His hand tightens around it, hardened skin rippling as his fist cracks, but before he can crush the thing entirely, he relaxes again. 'Actually...'

Licking the top row of his teeth, something vicious flashes in his eyes as he drops the device to your hand and forces your thumb against it. Keeping one hand clenched around your throat, he scrolls through your phone lazily before grinning and lifting it to his ear. He bites his lip and rocks his eyes upwards as the dull ringing of a phone-call drifts through the speakers.

'Fuck... Fuck, baby – baby, are you -.' Bakugo sounds like he's been running. His breath hitches on each inhale, the exhales rough and shaky as he grunts and swallows down spit.

'N'aww, are we doing pet names now... Honey?' Kirishima's voice is sickly sweet when he giggles down the phone, tilting his head and narrowly avoiding twisting his hair around a finger.

Metal rattles, the sounds of struggling growing louder until a rage-filed snarl echoes over the line. 'Riot, what the fuck did you do?'

'Oh, so that's a no on the pet names?'

'I swear if you hurt a fucking hair on her head, I will -.'

'Baby...' Kirishima purrs. 'I'm not going to hurt her... 'm going to fucking ruin her.' Turning his attention back on you, he pushes in close making sure you can feel the large swell of his cock as it fills out his pants. It had taken weeks for him to think up an appropriate punishment for Bakugo's little trespasses, but now watching as fear swims in your eyes, he's very glad he landed on this.

Bakugo yells, thrashing violently, but any words are lost to his anger.

'You'll never make it in time, princess...' Leaning in, Kirishima breathes over your neck nosing at the turn of your jaw close enough that he knows your squeaking is seeping down the phone and into Bakugo's ears on the other end. He flicks the call to speaker. '… So, I think you should just sit tight and enjoy the show.' Slipping the phone into your shaking hand, he lifts your arm until the speaker is in line with the side of your mouth. He pecks the tip of your nose. ‘Now hold that steady for me so Princess can hear all your pretty little sounds, okay.’ A smile flickers across his face, but it quickly turns sour as hardened cracks fragment his features. ‘Drop it and you won’t like what happens.’

With your heart jack-rabbiting and fear keeping you still, you can’t do anything, but nod. A trail of Bakugo’s expletives seep from the phone, quickly followed by a ragged:

‘I’m coming, baby. Shit. Okay? I’m coming!’

Kirishima’s cock twitches in his pants, leaking a thick stream of pre-cum into his boxers as the combined desperation of you and Bakugo leaks into the air. You sounds so helpless, so weak and easy, ripe for the taking. A chuckle bubbles up his throat as he sinks to his knees with a sickening crunch and all but tears your skirt from your hips. The material hangs limply at either side of your thighs, exposing the thin lace of your underwear. His cock jumps again. 'Now...' Leaning in, he breaths in your cunt relishing in the sweetness as it hits his nose. 'Be a good girl and let me have a taste, yeah?'

You're wet. You can feel it, the steady thrum of your heartbeat as it migrates south and causes you to drip helplessly into your underwear. It sickens you, makes you want to scream, but for some reason... You don't. Instead, it’s a moan that leaps from your lips and meets a cursed ‘Fuck’ from Bakugo’s end.

'No.' Your hand shoots down to his head, nails dragging viciously across his scalp as you fist red locks and attempt to force him back. It takes all of your strength to push him back a few centimetres and even then, your arms shake with the effort. You wriggle, trying to use the solidness of the wall behind you for added leverage, but even that doesn't shift him. 'No. Stop... Please. Stop.'

He growls, ignoring the burning on his head to surge forward again. He mouths at you over the lace of your underwear, using his tongue to taste what little of your slick leaks through.

You squeeze your thighs together and pull at him again, trying in vain to keep your cunt from his face. There's a bottomless well of fear in your stomach, but with each lick of his tongue down your slit, it fills with lust as your body betrays you.

'It's kind of cute.' Chuffing, he plants a soft kiss on your thigh and follows it with a harsh nip. 'You thinking you've got any choice here.' His hands slide up your legs, thumbs twisting against your pelvis to pin you down before he forces your thighs aside and slings them lazily over his shoulders.

A yelp leaves your throat as you're hauled further up the wall and held there. With your thighs held apart by his head, his hands creep further up your body. One stays put at your pelvis, stopping your attempts to buck yourself off your new found podium, while the other stretches up to grip the collar of your shirt. He rips the material with little qualm, his palm instantly ducking under your bra to grope at your chest.

'That's better.' Diving into your cunt, he uses his teeth to tear through your underwear before flicking his tongue against your clit. He's ravenous. The dull beating of your fist on the back of his neck are mere annoyances, the broken bleating of your chorus of 'No, please, stop' nothing, but an encouragement that makes his cock bob.

Your cunt clenches, desperate as his tongue slips between your folds and you cry out, unable to silence it behind your lips. 'Stop – Fuck – Please... I – Don't... I'll do anything, just – stop, please. You don't have to.. I'll tell Katsuki to stop... Please.' You're a broken record, but the words spill over your lips as you force your body to struggle on, wiggling only to be pinned down harder in retaliation. Panicked, the phone slips from your hand and clatters to the floor as you try with the strength of both arms to shove him away. It doesn’t work.

He pops off your clit and licks his lips. There’s a darkness consuming the red of his eyes when he glares up at you between your legs. ‘I told you not to drop that…’

‘I -.’ There’s a storm in your chest, one that has you almost delirious with fear. ‘I’m sorry. I -.’

Clenching his jaw, Kirishima licks a thick stripe up your slit and revels in the way your eyes almost roll back in your head. ‘I’ll forgive it, this time, but now I’m going to have to fuck you even harder so your little boyfriend can still hear me using his toy. Okay?’

Your nose flares, cunt clenching and dropping onto his knees below. The words this time run on a frantic loop in the back of your head.

The pressure of your thighs squeezing his head is making him dizzy, but that's nothing compared to the violent wave of lust that threatens to consume him when he looks up and sees the tears wetting your cheeks. He's sure you haven't even noticed, too overcome with the way his tongue had been carving out a space inside, but that just gives him an idea. Leaning over to towards the discarded phone, he shouts. 'Your girl tastes good, baby...'I do have a question though, you ever fuck her so hard she cries? Or, is my tongue just that good.'

'Riot... I fuck -.' An small explosion interrupts his words, quickly followed by another. The footsteps stop. On the line, Bakugo's voice is quieter, hoarse as he pants and fumbles with something… ‘Shit. I -.’ Skin slips against skin. Bakugo’s breath hitches. ‘I’ll be there, baby. I’m coming - okay… I -.’

There's a smirk overtaking his feature's at once. 'I'm impressed you managed to escape. Shall we see if I can make her cum on my cock before you get here?' Releasing your hip he's quick to unzip his pants and pull himself free. The cold air hits his cock, making him hiss, but he doesn't waste any more time before he's standing and taking you with him.

You're bent in half as he stands. Your legs slip off his shoulders, only to get trapped between your chest and his and you have to bite your lip as your muscles complain at the stretch. A wave of excitement rocks through you as he man-handles you, bends and positions you any way he pleases without so much as a request. It makes your stomach writhe into knots and your thighs shake with anticipation of his next move.

'Sounds like your boyfriends a little caught up, sweetheart.’ There’s a knowing flash in his eyes. ‘Shame he's not gonna get here in time.' Leaning in close, he gropes at your ass, squeezing plush flesh in his hand before wrapping a hand around his cock. He gives himself a cursory tug, smooths his shaft with the thick pre-cum coating the tip and lines himself up. 'Gonna make such a pretty little cock sleeve for me, baby. Aren't you?' He breathes it against your ear wrapped in a moan before forcing the tip past your entrance.

You scream. 'No – fuck, big, too, too big. It's...' Words jam in your throat as new tears spring to your eyes. 'It hurts... Fuck, please – it hurts.' His cock bullies its way inside of you, stretching your cunt to fit. It burns, stings as the head presses to your cervix and then, all you feel is pure, blinding pleasure. A moan bubbles over your lips, transforming into another dull scream.

He shushes you gently, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth. Rolling his hips once, he forces you to feel him, forces you to hiccup and swallow down the shake in your body as he carves out a new space inside of you. 'You can take it, baby, c'mon... Open up for me, that’s a good girl.'

From the phone, a garbled cry drifts into the air. The noise makes Kirishima smile, even if you’re too entrenched in the feel of him to notice.

Deep red lines blemish his skin as you scratch and tear at his shoulders. You're helpless, but that doesn't stop you trying. This, like all of your other theatrics, does little to phase him, even when your nails break the skin and you swear you can feel his cock jump inside of you when you get desperate and claw at his neck.

'Look at you...' You're squeezing him already, your thrashes weakening by the second as moans and yelps pool in your throat. The tears have made your eyes glassy and dug out divots in your foundation, causing your cheeks to grow streaky with skin and smeared mascara, but he can't help thinking that you look beautiful like this. 'Already cock-drunk... What happened to that fight, huh? Just took a decent cock and you're panting like a bitch.' His tongue creeps from behind his lips, licking up the stream of wet that trails down your cheek. 'You hear that, Princess? Hear how pretty she's singing for me?'

From his pocket more explosions sound, dull expletives slipping into the air. It sounds like Bakugo is finally running again.

Nothing breaks through the fog and hiccups blocking your throat. He's right. You're cock-drunk. Totally at his mercy as your cunt clings to him, drooling as it takes everything he has to give. Thoughts of Bakugo cloud your mind. He's out there, now... Racing across the city to save you and yet… Part of you isn't sure you want to be saved.

Pleasure bubbles violently inside of you as you're given more than you've ever had to take, but with each rough thrust, each burning moan earned from your chest you're unable to deny how fucking good he feels. You moan, freely, for the first time letting your head rock back as his cunt presses to the spongy parts of your cunt and makes you feel like you might burst.

'Fuck.' He hisses when you clench around him, but doesn't stop. He can't. It's too good. Mind racing, he fucks up into you with increasingly rough thrusts, not caring about how deeply he's plunging inside of you: you're here to be used after all. A growl bubbles in his chest as he feels the tell tale tug of his balls pulling taught. 'You're gonna look so good dripping with me.'

His words feel like ice water down your back. 'No.' Your breath catches in your throat and you hope it sounds more like fear that the violent excitement that clenches in your stomach. 'No, please. Not inside – don't. I don't -.'

Knocking his forehead against yours, he barres his teeth, ignoring your pleas. 'Gonna give you and Zero a little Riot, huh? No way I'm pulling out of this, baby. No fucking way.'

Your orgasm takes you out of nowhere. It crashes against you in waves, causing your head to bang back against the wall as you cunt milks him, almost begging for his release. The force of it makes your head swim as he fucks your through it, prolonging your high for what feels like infinity. You're shaking, you're sure of it, your nails biting into the skin of his shoulders as you quake and shiver, eyes rolling back and straining the muscle behind.

'Look at you, look – ah, shit.' His hips stutter for a moment, stilling as his cock spurts into life coating your insides with thick, creamy white. He's not sure if it was the fucked-out look in your eyes as you came harder than he's ever seen or if it's the power that courses through him having you pinned and vulnerable like this, but he has to harden his knees to keep him upright. With a final thrust, he stills completely struggling to catch his breath.

It's weak, a noise sounding more like a whimper than words that echoes in the back of your throat. You're not sure what you're asking for. If your asking for him to finally let you go or pick you up again and fuck his cum back into you against the wall.

'Good girl.' Reaching up, he grips you by the chin, squashing your cheeks together before pressing a kiss to your mouth. His tongue slips in soon after, pinning yours down in some show of awkward dominance. Pulling back, he lowers you gently back to the floor and removes his cape. There's a vicious smile on his lips when he wraps it around you, shielding your modesty.

You don't shy away. There's one million emotions seeping through your body, but not one of them is bad. You ache, pleasantly, and the warmth of Kirishima's hands is too alluring to ignore when he smooths them down your sides.

'You enjoyed that, didn't you, Sweetheart?'

Swallowing, you try not to think of how scared you'd been when he'd first cornered you... Of how the fear had melted away as his cock stretched you out; of how knowing Bakugo was listening had made you whine louder, needier - wanting him to hear just how good this other man was fucking you.

'Admit it.'

'I -.' Saying it makes it real, but the words slip off of your tongue anyway. 'I enjoyed it.'

A sigh breeches Kirishima's lips as he leans down and places a final soft kiss to your lips. 'Bakugo's got himself a dirty bitch, huh? Fuck.' He kisses you again, indulging this time. 'The things I'd do to a girl like you, the things I'd let you do to me...'

'Kirishima!' Bakugo skids to a stop at the mouth of the ally. An explosion lights the night behind him as he throws himself forward, not stopping for a second as he collides solidly with Kirishima's chest and sends the man flying to the floor. He lands on top of him, thighs bracketing his waist as he reels back an arm.

'So we're not doing pet names, but we are doing names...' Kirishima is still smiling, even as Bakugo's fist collides with his face. His neck cracks sideways, but he catches the second punch before it can do any actual damage.

'I'm going to fucking murder you, you piece of -.' There's flame almost engulfing his fist, but each spark dies as it hits the hard of Kirishima's hand. Clenching his jaw, he shifts himself forward attempting to force the other man to release him.

With raised eyebrows, Kirishima chuckles as he feels something hard poke at the underside of his pec. Glancing down, it's impossible not to notice the darkening patch on the crotch of Bakugo's pants, of how his cock strains the material and twitches. 'Looks like you enjoyed yourself too...'

'You -.' Bakugo's cheeks are burning, his jaw clenched tight as he battles the emotions flaring in his chest. How the fuck was he supposed to rationalise the cum staining his boxers, the fact that your moans had made him hard, that he'd had to stop to fuck his fist when your whines had grown heavy with pleasure...

Reaching down, Kirishima strokes the still-hard length of Bakugo's cock and collects the little dampness he can before popping his fingers into his mouth and groaning. 'I think... The Princess enjoyed himself too. Huh? Maybe we should go again and make you watch…’

You sink to your knees beside Kirishima and reach out to run a finger down Bakugo's cock making his hiss. This time, when the word drops from your lips, it isn't encased in fear and panic – it's lined with excitement and promise. You blink up at Bakugo: 'Please.'

-> Masterlist

#saturnscribbles #kirishima smut #kirishima x reader smut #tw: noncon #tw: connoncon #tw: blood riot #blood riot x reader smut #tw: dark content

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epicspheal · 1 year

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So I finally did the whole “gym leader inspection” last night to see where the fandom is getting their “Evil Geeta” vibes from. And while the jury is still out on her until the DLC the bad blood between Geeta and the leaders isn’t striking me immediately as proof that she’s evil. Let’s start with the whole “Most of the gym leaders are anxious about the inspection” thing. Speaking as someone who has had a full time job, performance reviews are always a little nerve-wracking no matter what type of boss you may have. There is always room for improvement, let alone there’s always a chance you’re going to be told you need to do more. Not really sure how other leagues are ran but I could guarantee you that gym leaders from Kanto to Galar would also feel the same level of anxiety about a performance review and it honestly shouldn’t be used as proof that Geeta is evil. Rather proof that performance reviews suck and anxiety inducing. Now let’s go into some of the individual reactions. Brassius quite frankly really didn’t seem to care. He was more concerned about his new inspiration for art than the inspection. If anything being a gym leader is more of a side-gig to his art career. Neither did Iono as she’s far more concerned about her streams and viewer numbers moreso than the inspection itself. In fact she seemed very impressed that Geeta trusted the player to do the inspection Kofu probably takes this the best because he’s a restaurant owner. He understands that at times people judging him may be harsh and to not take it personally. This is an important skill that you have to learn as an adult in the working world and it’s easier said than done especially if you’re sensitive. I’m quite sensitive myself and it’s taken me a lot to get even to half of where Kofu is in regards to criticism especially if it’s not given tactfully in my opinion. Him saying Geeta is harsh doesn’t necessarily imply he thinks she’s bad at all. And I think if anything he welcomes any harshness because it helps him improve. Again, that’s a skill that’s hard to develop and hard to conceptualize if you haven’t been put in a position where you’ve been dealt harsh criticism. It certainly sucks to be on the receiving end and yes tactful delivery is still key but you can’t always expect “room for improvement” talks to always be delivered gently. Then there’s Katy who is bored of being the first gym leader and being told to go soft on Geeta. Honestly Geeta telling her to be softer on her opponents isn’t a bad thing. Gym leaders are supposed to be tests, not nigh-insurmountable obstacles. While going too soft on people isn’t great, crushing new trainers off the bat isn’t helpful either as you can indeed squander potential talent doing that. Something Geeta recognizes. Katy here is in her feelings but it is understandable. No one likes losing, and with her being a bug type specialist there is probably the added sting of feeling like she’s conforming to the stereotype that Bug types are week. However, Geeta isn’t in the wrong for what she said. Rather it’s up to Katy to do something about it if she’s so discontent from being the first gym leader. She can up her challenge a bit, going soft doesn’t mean being a cakewalk. Or if this really bothers her, get better at being a trainer so she can become a leader that’s recommended to be faced later on despite being so close to Mesagoza. And to her credit, Katy does at least recognize that after the battle with the intent of battling at a higher level. Whether that means not being as soft on newer trainers or just trying to make sure she gets a higher rank we’re not sure, but she has the maturity to not really blame Then you have Tulip who says she’s not Geeta’s biggest fan because she dislikes how bewitching Geeta’s aura is compared to her own. Now some people may have latched on to the bewitching as proof that she’s evil but when you look at the definition of bewitching it means “enchanting or delightful” or in other words “so beautiful or attractive that you cannot think of anything else”. This actually kind of implies Tulip might be a bit jealous of Geeta and how she carries herself rather Geeta being malicious. She compares Geeta’s aura to her own and calls it similarly bewitching implying that both of them have an enchanting way about them. And often when two people of similar vibes meet they may end up clashing. I think the whole ESP gym test makes people perhaps read a bit more into the bewitching thing because Tulip may have psychic powers we don’t know and so maybe she knows something we don’t. And it very well may be shown in the DLC that Tulip’s words were foreshadowing. But the bewitching line to me at least at the moment, strikes me more as a “I’m a bit envious of the chairwoman” over “the chairwoman is evil” Then you have Ryme who is rather blatantly insulted that Geeta sends the player to do the inspection rather than herself. She even states that she had been looking forward to proving the strength of ghost-types to her and felt a bit robbed. Now again this really isn’t a “Geeta is evil” type thing. Sure it probably would’ve been nicer to have Geeta mention that she was sending someone else as a courtesy. But I think Ryme’s feelings of being insulted come from a place of insecurity. She’s only been the leader for a year and a half and she does enjoy the job. Again like I said earlier, performance reviews will make any employee nervous but especially newer ones who haven’t been on the job all that long. So I can definitely see why Ryme was upset as she probably felt like this was a snub and as someone who has been a new employee I can sympathize with her feelings. But it doesn’t make Geeta bad that this happen. The only bad thing Geeta did was just not tell everyone she was sending someone else. Next is Grusha who during the inspection talks about being worried that he’ll lose his job and the only other thing he has talent for. Again much like Ryme is this is definitely coming more from insecurity on the part of Grusha over Geeta being a bad boss. Like Ryme it also comes from an understandable place. He suffered a great loss in losing his ability to snowboard and knowing that his gym leader position is a job that can be lost as well is certainly anxiety inducing. Especially for someone like himself who tends to wrap their identity in their talents. I don’t even think he actually dislikes Geeta he’s just terrified of potentially of not doing well enough to stay in his position. Again that’s something extremely relatable but not necessarily a mark on Geeta herself. Finally there is Larry who has the most outright grievances towards Geeta. Him having outright grievances doesn’t mean she’s evil though. A lot of people have grievances with their bosses and it could be that their boss is bad, it could be they themselves are the bad ones, or maybe neither are bad and they just don’t mesh. And honestly even though they clearly have beef Geeta does tell him to stop doing overtime. She may not be the world’s best boss but her telling him to chill on the overtime does count for something when there are plenty of bosses who will happily let you work overtime, even unpaid overtime. And also yes, she does ask him to use a different type when battling as an Elite Four member but honestly that’s not a bad boss thing. One it makes sense that if you’re going to use someone as both a gym leader and elite four member (who are generally all type specialists) to switch things up to keep challengers on their toes. After all the Champion’s Test is an assessment. And as Larry himself states, he understands why she asked him to switch things up. He realizes that he misses a lot of growth by just staying in one lane with one type and he’ll become stronger as a trainer if he takes different approaches. Yeah he still doesn’t like her but he’s mature enough as an adult to realize when she’s making good points and that’s important although again a tough point to get to. Because it’s often really hard to hear good points from someone you’re not the biggest fan of. So honestly if anything Geeta and the gym leader’s relationship really resembles real life workplaces. Not everyone is buddy-buddy. People get anxiety when performance reviews or big meetings are called. People have insecurities that tend to get poked in certain situations. It doesn’t necessarily mean any one person is good or bad.

#champion geeta #gym leader grusha #gym leader ryme #gym leader iono #gym leader brassius #gym leader kofu #gym leader larry #gym leader katy #gym leader tulip #sv spoilers #character analysis

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bluejaysandblackbats · 3 months

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Catch and Release

Fandom: DC Comics, Batfam

Summary: AU where Jason doesn't die in the explosion and he and Tim end up attending the same high school months later.

Chapters: 1/?

Characters: Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth, Tim Drake, Dick Grayson, Barbara Gordon, Sebastian Ives, Jack Drake, Janet Drake

Relationships: TBA

Additional Tags: Jason Todd Lives, Jason Todd-centric, POV Jason Todd, POV First Person, Tim Drake Has Issues, Tim Drake is Not Robin, Jason Todd is Not Robin (Anymore), Bruce Wayne Needs a Hug, Alfred Pennyworth is the Best, Alfred Pennyworth Knows, Stalker Tim Drake, Jason Todd Has Chronic Pain, Jason Todd Has PTSD, Angst with a Happy Ending, Unlikely Friends, Injury Recovery, Emotional Baggage, Rage, Bruce Wayne is Bad at Communicating

Chapter One: Counting Backward

"Good," Bruce replied.

Despite Alfred begging me to use the stairlift, I came down the stairs on foot. It was a dumb idea, but I was tired of feeling broken. My leg still hadn't healed. Mostly everything else had. I wondered if Bruce would urge me to stay home longer and focus on my recovery. I know he meant well, but I was tired of wasting away in the manor. I felt like I was a living memorial of the Jason he lost in the explosion. I haunted the place every moment I was there. Even my laugh was a painful reminder of what was.

A wave of pain shot up my spine and into my lungs, and I missed a step. I wasn't as quick on my feet as I used to be, but Alfred managed to catch me before I could falter. That bothered me. I didn't want anyone helping me, but my body was so broken it couldn't be avoided. I wanted to return to how I was, but honestly, I wasn't even halfway there. I mumbled a word of gratitude to Alfred, and he escorted me down the few remaining steps against my will.

My crutches leaned against the baluster. I remember when it felt like a victory. It meant I could walk. After a few months on them, it felt more like a loss. I couldn't rush recovery, so I was stuck. I bitterly pushed forward and went to the kitchen to make myself breakfast. Bruce sat at the counter, sipping his coffee. Despite his silence, I knew what his presence meant. "I'm going to school today," I announced. Bruce nodded. "I don't want you checking in on me today."

"Jason, I'm not trying to baby you... I'm just worried that your return to public school is premature," Bruce replied. He set his coffee aside and looked at me, studying me with his eyes. "Healing takes time."

"I can only heal at home for so long," I muttered as I opened the fridge. Bruce didn't help me, as a rule. I didn't want him to. I poured myself a glass of milk, and Alfred started making breakfast. I knew it was the only way Alfred would let me go, so I ate. I was stubborn but not half as stubborn as Alfred. "Thanks for breakfast, Alfred."

He nodded and set my backpack and lunch on an empty chair. Bruce seemed displeased with all of it. Ever since I came home from the hospital, he'd examined my every move, documenting my every nightmare, every misstep. It felt like he was judging me, but I knew better. Bruce was frightened for me. "At least let me take you to school... It'll help me breathe easier if I can see you off," Bruce requested. I nodded.

I didn't feel like arguing with him about small things like drop off and pick up. I stood up and put on my backpack before grabbing my crutches. Bruce looked up, and before he could ask me, I nodded. "I was in an accident. I don't wanna talk about it... The fewer details I use, the better," I whispered.

I followed him to the garage and sat in the front seat. The drive was unbearably long and silent. Neither of us had anything to say that the other wanted to hear. I watched as kids poured into the gates, and I hesitated. "Second thoughts?" Bruce asked.

"No," I stubbornly answered as I got out of the car. I took a breath and braced for an imaginary threat. I hopped up the steps and went through the double doors. I walked towards the metal detector, and the security guard shook his head. I thought it was irresponsible for him to let me through, but that wasn't my business anymore. I went to the front office and knocked on the attendance door. The office attendant smiled and told me she'd help me in a moment. I sat down and waited for her to ask for me.

"You can come up now," she welcomed me. I told her my name, and she gave me my class schedule. "If you'd like-." I smiled and shook my head.

"I was enrolled here last year... I'll manage, but thank you," I interrupted as politely as possible.

My first class was halfway across the building, so I went there right after I left the office. The door was locked, so I stood there, waiting for the teacher to show up. That's when I noticed him. A wild-eyed kid with no backpack. He only had a notepad and pen. If I didn't know better, I would've mistaken him for an undercover cop. I caught him staring at me and immediately took offense, but I wasn't dumb enough to pick a fight on my first day. Besides, he looked out the window as soon as he noticed I was staring back. I could tell he was sheltered by the way he looked at people. Most people who grew up in the rougher parts of Gotham would've known better. Had he met me last year, he might've gotten a friendlier reaction from me. I might've even overlooked him, but something about him didn't feel right.

The bell rang, and the teacher came to unlock the classroom. "Nice to see you again, Jason," she greeted. I tried to grasp for a name, but I couldn't remember her. I couldn't remember a lot of things after the accident.

"It's nice to see you too," I smiled. It was better to fake it and glance at my class schedule later than to explain why I suddenly couldn't remember the name of a teacher who obviously noticed my absence. I was bitter, but I wouldn't be rude to innocent people.

She logged into the computer and pulled up the seating chart. I sat by the door where I was placed and watched as the creepy kid strolled in. He sat by the window, and I looked for his name on the roster. Tim Drake. I wrote it down in my notebook and caught him staring at me again. A few other kids came in. One of which knocked my crutches over without picking them up. I picked them up and sighed. I'd have to deal with that for another month, at least.

Then there'd be more physical therapy and exams... And more of Bruce's pained glances when I missed a step or took a sharp breath. I knew he felt guilty for not being there. I did my fair share of blaming him in the earlier days of my recovery. I wasn't proud of what I said but never apologized, especially after he took Robin from me. It was the only way I could cope. Bitterness protected me from the harsh realities of the accident. I felt like I was experiencing the five stages of grief backward like I was mourning the death I should've had.

The second bell rang, and the rest of the class rushed in, some narrowly avoiding the third and final late bell. Eventually, wandering eyes started to recognize my face beneath the scarring. That wasn't the thing that bothered me, though. It was the whispering that followed the stares. I could make out some of it, but my hearing wasn't as good as before.

"I thought he died."

"I heard he got shot in the face."

"No, Professor Pyg turned him into one of those Frankenstein things, and he spent the summer in Arkham."

I swallowed it because I had to, but I could hardly conceal my growing rage. "Jason," our teacher whispered. I looked up at her. "Are you alright?"

I smiled and nodded even though every lethal and violent scenario imaginable flashed through my mind. I only had a few more hours of self-inflicted mental and emotional torture, and then I could drive home in agonizing silence. It would've gone great had he not pushed me.

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itsclydebitches · 10 months

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I honestly have no idea how they intend to greenlight volume 10 if it's not been greenlit already. They've announced the final season of Red vs Blue and a lot of early day fans are in agreement that the end of RvB is the signaling of the end of RT in general. It's their second biggest money maker next to RWBY. After this new season, it's over. What do they do next? Do RT really believe that RWBY is popular enough to coast on for another decade? It'll be a miracle if it lasts even one more year.

Their viewership has been on a decline since Volume 6, they've abused so much of their animation department that there's almost no one left, most of their VA talent for RWBY's popular characters aren't coming back due to all the controversies, any spinoffs or soft reboots or whatever keep going back to the Beacon era and don't really do much to help with the overall problems that are down to the roots of the company.

They even made their biggest ship that kept what few fans are left canon and put out half assed merch that sold out in minutes, and somehow they still haven't managed to find enough money to greenlight another volume?

If they somehow miraculously get Volume 10 made, it's probably going to be the last.

The last few years of RWBY have really highlighted for me how challenging it is to define "popularity" and "success" nowadays. Granted, a good chunk of that is simply my own ignorance about how the production side of things are run, but it nevertheless feels like there's this intense level of ambiguity that wasn't there in the past (or at least wasn't as obvious). Fandom itself has always been an unreliable source because depending on the corner of the internet you're in, you can get a wildly skewed perspective without engaging with everything that contradicts how "good" or "bad" you think things are going. As you say, merch sells out in minutes, yet neither the finances nor the implied security of that seems to be enough to land another Volume. There are questions about whether this could be a marketing scheme, wherein Volume 10's future is simply being kept under wraps to drum up interest. There's the question of whether popularity matters at all when we've got companies cancelling and pulling undoubtedly successful shows, all according to their own, long-term algorithms. On the one hand the information surrounding RT is all about the abuse of their workers, another scandal, how this might all tie into the strikes... and yet most of this is nothing new and RWBY has still secured movies, a soft reboot, comics, and books. I agree completely with your list above of all the ways in which the series is struggling (massively) and yet RWBY has been "dying" for half its run-time. So is this the final nail in the coffin—the inevitable ending that's been a long time coming—or just another year where the fandom unintentionally cries wolf?

I'm not so naive as to believe that things were actually simple 'back in the day'—that's the nostalgia talking—but it still seems like things were simpler in comparison to what we've got now. TV and its media equivalents used to be—or at least felt like—a fairly straightforward journey of airing, ratings, syndication, cancellation, renewal, and then (eventually) the viewer securing a copy for themselves via VHS and DVDs. Now it's like, "What do I do with the newbie webseries eventually bought up by a major corporation and moved from a free watch, to a company-specific streaming watch, to a different, more expensive streaming watch, all of which has led to a decade of success with various spinoffs, but apparently this webseries still isn't making enough money to continue? Regardless, it and everything else I love to watch is inching more and more towards digital-only copies, a status that is inherently nerve-wracking, which means that if it does suddenly crash and burn (given that this is one of two series keeping the original company afloat) circulating this story and maintaining the fandom will be that much harder."

I find that depressing and I'm someone who thinks RWBY is pretty awful right now. I can't imagine what that ambiguity and the state of streaming media in 2023 feels like to fans still in love with the show.

So yeah. Idk how they intend to greenlight Volume 10 either.

#rwde #rwby #mymetas

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wewebaggit · 10 months

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i love how ur bio says safe space for hopper haters bc too many ppl in this fandom are always like “whaaaaat!? but how can u not like jopper 🥺” when he is not only a full grown man who abuses his power and was horrible to Joyce in s3 but also his character itself is literally copaganda

and it’s concerning and so weird (but also unsurprising) that jopper is like… elevated as this god tier ship, even in queer spaces, when in reality it’s pretty mid and also why would I want to ship Joyce byers with a cop

Hey booksandpaperss!

I am a safe space for ALL HATING. But specifically Jim Copper hate simply because he is shown a lot of undeserved grace by the fandom and the writers.

Since it's now in vogue to hate on s3 I'll take this opportunity to escape being called a negative nancy for once and just a hatering hater. Here goes:

My hate for Hopper is not as a result of season 3 but in fact it began with s2. (s1 a wee bit) But truly honestly deeply since season 2.

Hopper in season 2

After giving up Eleven's location in the prior season, Hopper then out of the goodness of his heart (😒) starts leaving Eggos for El in a reverse HansEl and GretEl. The feral El now has a home. But is it a home? Or just another prison? Hopper leaves her alone in the cabin with nothing but a TV. And so El spends her days mindlessly going through all the shit the idiot box has to offer. The only time she's actively interested in the TV is when she wants to use the static to get into the void. Because she has been kept away from the ONE friend she made out of the lab. And let's bffr. It's Mike. She is looking for Mike. And Mike too is the only one thinking about her. Hopper keeping her away from him and lying and being nothing but and angy aggressive cop of a dad is supposed to make the audience feel.....wait what are we supposed to feel? Mad at Hopper? Cuz the end result was people hating on El rebelling against Hopper. And it is all because El's resolution at the end of the Lost Sister episode was......that she needed to go back to Hopper and her friends. However, again it is a point in time when Hopper's at the lab and in mortal danger.

So since we love deep dives and shit and developing lore around characters, would she have been compelled to return to Hopper were he just, idk sitting in his cabin or at the station or whatever. A lot of ST is just about characters deciding to do stuff when someone is in REAL DANGER™️ But specifically with Hopper, he only steps up as dad when El's in danger. Otherwise he's treating her as a pet, something Mike was wrongfully accused of.

The whole entire (almost) year that El was with Hopper we do not see a change in her personality. Her rage has worsened. Her vocabulary is still lacking. In spite of the word of the days. There's no female presence in her life. He neither recruited Joyce nor her aunt (though that would have been sus, agreed n yet would it have been any different seeing as El managed to do it alone.) She's been held hostage for her own good.

Hopper: You put us in danger.

El: You promise. I go. I never leave. Nothing ever happens.

And then he grounds her. Like she was living it up otherwise. (S2E4)

We know it was because this was El's story of rebellion and trying to find her identity and so the story does not have Hopper do these things. But that still means that the story chose for Hopper to not do these things. He is even shown apologising (meh. half assed like his foil Mike, but that's for later) for it towards the end. And yet, that's something that's rarely discussed in fandom circles while talking about Hopper.

Hopper in Season 3

Oh he proves he's a blackhole alright. Sucked Joyce's character development. He's only marginally improved letting Mike see her but beyond that it's still mostly the same. She still is under-socialised. Speaks like that. El herself seeks out Max. Joyce is still too busy being ungrateful (I know not the intent, but the execution nonetheless) she's still not leaving the cabin much and has some curfew. Again which is, well why is it there? Cuz she's been coolly gallivanting with Max at the mall and everywhere else without a problem.

He's a proper asshole to Mike and a bully. Who tf threatens murder to a 13 year old kid? Like between having a chat and threatening homicide, he could come up with ZERO options. He needs emotional laxatives that aren't just anger and bullying.

Hopper in season 3 is an unfunny comic relief. A man baby. A bully who uses his cop privileges. Who treats the woman he supposedly likes like shit. He was so mad about Joyce not meeting up with him despite her telling him the reason. I mean mister you did that with Eleven too and just expected her to understand. The juvenile hUmOUr and the macho man action scenes where he's outwitting trained Russian mercenaries (lmao) is a step down from the basement he was already in. Him treating Alexei like shit when he was the only one who could have helped them. Make it make sense. (Anti-Russia/USSR pro USA copaganda and nothing else)

Also beyond all of this I simply hate Hopper for taking away valuable screentime from the kids that this show is supposedly about but hasn't really been that for some time now. He's a white male war veteran cop who's a Hawkins native and was a popular kid in school too. So he's not even an outsider in terms of being the new man in town, let alone the shit that really matters.

Hopper in Season 4

Not dead enough.

Jopper throughout the show

Mid chemistry. Joyce is already a semi-absent mother but becomes entirely absent after Hopper's message from Russia. She has ZERO clue of what her kids are going through in Cali and then has the fucking audacity to walk out on them without even letting them know that she might not return. She also leaves the only responsible person in that household with the charge as if she ever took it. She is now been relegated to being the comic relief which is neither comical and far from a relief and Hopper's girlfriend. Every season she has proven to be right on the money with her instincts and every season everyone including Hopper question her as if she's the dumb one. Hello. Do you guys clear up your memory after every season? It's annoying and one note. Hopper is a jealous manbaby all of s3 and a fucking liar. "i shOuldn't hAVe seNt yOu the LeTteR" Bitch u did. You wanted out. Dasvidaniya! El's college fund. But you'll only need it if you make it through school 🤷‍♀️. WHICH SHOULD HAVE BEEN HOMESCHOOL HELLO. Though I do commend the subversion of the found family trope where both the adults are pathetic parents. Do love one of the main couples being failparents! (is that a thing? or are they pioneers?)

#byler #stranger things #wewe's askbox #jim hopper #jim copper #joyce byers #anti jopper #kinda had to reel it in

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