#subpar writing
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one big brain dump tbh but a lot of fluff and swearing !
you fall for bakugou katsuki first.
he's unstoppable, a force to be reckoned with in the hero world. many have had their eyes on bakugou ever since he was a mere hero course student. safe to say he did not disappoint.
now climbing to one of the top hero spots, dynamight is widely adored by japan. despite crowning one of the most 'undesirable' personalities a hero can have, his fans equated him to a pomeranian and moved on to the latest papparazi photo taken at the time.
before the public, you adored bakugou katsuki first.
as a classmate, he pushed you to your limit without even knowing, invigorating you with a spirit to keep fighting. as a friend (you got there in the end), he entertained you with his grumbling, liked to carry your bag for you despite your reluctance, and kept you company throughout rigorous study periods.
somewhere along the way, you realised you adored bakugou katsuki, a lot more than friends should.
now as a coworker in his agency, he keeps you company during late hours, sends you off on missions with a 'come back alive, idiot', and delivers you gifts when things are going rough.
fate plays her cards and bakugou katsuki now finds himself falling even harder for you. five years after your revelation.
when he looks you in the eye there is something akin to determination in them and it alights pure admiration in his veins. despite your kindness, you are strengthened by ambition and purpose alone, and he finds himself caught in your magnetic field.
but these newfound feelings come to him as effortlessly as water flows down a stream after a downpour; destined to feel this way for you, helpless against the currents of life. after a long drought, he feels refreshed and rejuvenated by the energy you bring to his life.
he loves the little notes you stick on his desk, often paired with smiley faces, stupid jokes, or reminders that range from 'drink water!' or 'see you at the meeting at 1! :p'. he loves the daily lunch runs you have together, sometimes it's easier to get to work when he knows you're there with him. he loves that you're workout buddies, always giving him extra 'fun' challenges during his session by sitting atop him during push-ups or planks, or clinging to him like a koala as he does pull-ups.
bakugou katsuki loves you so naturally that you've been embedded in the little cracks of the hectic lives you both lead.
you're his homescreen and lockscreen, there's a plushie you gave him in third year sitting in his large-ass bedroom, there's a photo of you and him on his office desk, even more polaroids at home, and there's a designated mug for you in his cabinet for when you come over. it's used approximately twice a week.
bakugou doesn't want to show it, really, he doesn't, but he finds himself staring at you too often, too softly. there's a multitude of paparazzi photos of you two, the cameras catching the obvious shift in his eyes when it's you he's next to, looking at you with a grin as you ramble excitedly to him.
mina's never fails to send one whenever she sees them.
she even sent him a photo that was taken whilst he was walking through the street, too engaged with his phone to realise cameras pointed at him. the wild part is that there is a gentle, heartfelt smile etched on his face.
‘texting y/n? down bad.’
the acid user was blocked that day. she was right though.
the sad part is that he can recall exactly which text you sent that had him that giddy; it was a selfie of you and a pomeranian from patrol, paired with some joke that you found bakugou whilst out. whilst he would've blown anyone up who made the comparison to his face, he found himself zooming in on your bright smile, heart aching with a familiar longing.
he hates you. he hates you so bad that it hurts not to have you.
every reminder that you weren't his pains him even more. at his core, bakugou is nothing more than a bitter, jealous son of a bitch, but he can't help it. he's sacrificed too much to get to the top, but he doesn't want to lose you.
not when you look so beautiful- so ethereal laughing with that extra ‘hero’, monoma. under the gala lights, in your outfit, you were truly beautiful, and bakugou finds himself stunned by your allure, stomping over to you in a vulnerable moment of bewitchment.
he doesn't know how many people he pushed aside in the crowd, ignoring their grunts and gasps to reach you.
you, sweet, radiant, undeniable you find him first, meeting him in the middle with an even brighter smile.
despite being in the middle of a stuffy, packed floor, filled to the brim with heroes, sidekicks, reporters and managers alike, it is only you and bakugou. the intimacy causes him to feel overwhelmed by your glow; the tie he's donning suddenly tightening around his neck, causing him to choke on his words.
there's a sudden urge to get to his knees and start praising the ground you stand on.
"hi," you murmur.
"hey,” he responds, briefly scanning you up and down. “you look nice.”
you laugh at his compliment, masking the violent heartbeat of your chest. "thank you, katsuki. i think you look dashing."
the blond offers you his arm. you take it without much thought. "of course i do. if i wanna stand next to you i have to look worthy of it."
you fall first for bakugou katsuki.
but he's waiting at the bottom to catch you in his arms.
#i love the 'falls first but falls harder' trope... it's so cute... and i failed miserably#subpar writing#bakugo x reader#bakugou x reader#bakugou x you#bakugo katsuki x reader#bakugo katuski x reader#mha x reader#bnha x reader#mha fluff#bnha fluff#bakugou fluff#bakugo fluff#bakugou imagine#bakugo imagine#my hero academia x reader#boku no hero academia x reader
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Terrible positions to spend hours scrolling your phone in
#the anxiety is beating my assssss#<— have to write my own recommendation letter for the first time.#my sister ended up writing it for me but it reads so unrealistically#what a glowing recommendation for such an objectively subpar student…….
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@jegulus-microfic | april 27th | diplomacy | 296 words | cw: mentions of walburga black's a+ parenting, internalized transphobia
When Regulus was little, he and Sirius were always told to be on their best behavior around guests.
It never mattered who the guests were. As long as there was company at their house, the boys were expected to be stoic, perfect, the utmost example of diplomacy. For Sirius, this meant putting away his smirk. Doing his hair so it looked groomed even when he refused a haircut. Putting on his best dress robes. For Regulus, it meant hiding his whole identity.
He remembers screaming as his mother forced him into a dress when he was five, and he remembers knowing not to make a noise of protest by the age of seven. He remembers seeing Sirius watching him from the doorway, trying to figure out what was so wrong with looking nice for tea with their cousins.
Now, as James pulls him through the department store, Regulus can't help the way his eyes dart around. Can't help his confusion when James keeps pulling him towards the back. He stops, and James turns to him.
"Reg? You alright?"
Regulus shuffles his feet. He most definitely is not alright, and he knows that James is very aware of that fact. "The dresses are back here," he says quietly, looking towards the ground.
"I didn't think you wanted a dress," James says, sounding a bit surprised. "But if you want to look back here, we can -"
"Want?" Regulus asks, eyes flashing up to James as if he's never heard the word before. James stares at him, concern evident in his features before his expression shifts into a soft smile.
"Yeah, love," he says, sliding his fingers between Regulus's again. "You can get whatever you want."
Regulus practically runs towards the suits, James laughing as he trails behind him.
#hp fandom#harry potter fandom#hp#marauders era#james potter#regulus black#jegulus#another subpar microfic but oh well#i wrote these all in 1 evening#1.2k words and i forgot how to write apparently#james x regulus#sunseeker#starchaser#jegulus microfic
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it's kind of funny i think a little bit when people frame the issues with dsmp fandom as being about high expectations when the story that was told was consistently much more complex and rich and varied than the fandom made it out to be, despite its flaws and hiccups due to the nature of its creation. like nah lets not give em too much credit now its not the creators' fault that the dsmp fandom couldnt identify the themes of the server when they were beat over the head with them
#disk horse#tw negativity#tw discourse#like lol lighthearted but there's no need to act like the dsmp writing was subpar or lesser just bc it was a bunch of young adults#roleplaying in minecraft ... they still told a banger ass story and did a lot of cool shit with the medium. the fandom was just stupid
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An excerpt from the first thousand words of my buddie fic, because maybe if I get enough positive reinforcement I'll actually finish it. This takes place during the covid era, btws
@steadfastsaturnsrings
“You sure are big for a guide.”
Buck slows for a moment, but returns to his brisk pace so quick it would be nigh unperceivable if you didn’t know him very well. His mask mostly obscures his reflexive smile as he continues to carry the little girl out of the crumbling building. She’s looking up at him with big green eyes filled with wonder.
“Well, what makes you so sure I’m a guide?” His voice is light, teasing.
The little girl’s eyebrows furrow, this was clearly not a possibility she had considered. In her defense, very few ever clock him for what he is. “But you’re making me feel so calm and safe. You must be a guide…?”
Her head is cocked now, scrutinizing him the way only small children could. Buck glances down at her, still moving at a quick pace, trying to get away from the crumbling halls and to safety so she could be given a proper look over. “Maybe you feel so calm and safe because you’re no longer in a room collapsing around you?” He gestures to behind him with his head.
“No,” she wrinkles her nose at this, giving a decisive shake of her head, “I felt safe from the moment you grabbed me from my room. It should have been scary with all the walls shaking like that, but as soon as you grabbed me I knew I was going to be okay.”
The thing is, most people forget that sentinels, before anything else, are guardians. They exist to keep people safe, and those being saved by them can instinctively tell that the sentinel will do everything in their power to get them out as unharmed as they possibly can. People forget that sentinels changed first, and that guides, with their empathy and soothing existence, developed in response to the sentinels’ needs.
Buck slows to a stop in front of the ambulance, and gives the little girl his undivided attention, “I am big for a guide,” her face starts to break into a grin of triumph, “But I’m only a little over average for a sentinel.” He winks at her gobsmacked face as he hands her over to Hen.
#i'm going to bed after i post this#because i can no longer brain#and i hate subpar writing from myself#buddie#my writing#sentinel/guide au#god i hope i finish this#911#911 abc#911 fox#evan buckley#eddie diaz
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#making subpar gifs of Marc and Frankie from today so I can drown my sorrows from the sprint#marc marquez#frankie carchedi#motogp#why does this video make me want to write a fic haha#I'm feeling inspired by their energy#spanish gp 2024
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extra credit (v. sanji x reader)
a.n.: fluff + angst, sanji really does like the reader. sort of a part 1.5 to never been kissed. no beta we post like men. sanji n reader are just silly lovebirds!
c.w.: angst, allusions to virginity
w.c.: 606
After about an hour of rigorous practice, your kissing lessons had come to a close. Both you and Sanji were sat crosslegged on opposite sides of his bed. Sanji was resting against his pillows and you were playing with the trim of his comforter.
“So, Mr. Teacher, how’d I do?”, you joked.
“Fantastic. Absolutely no notes.”
You feigned a bow as you took his compliment.
“We should do this again.” Sanji nods, a playful smile strewn across his lips.
“Think I need more lessons? Damn, and here I was thinking I was a pro.”, You joke, reaching across the bed to playfully hit him on the knee.
Sanji rolls his eyes at your comment and chuckles. “No sweetheart, spending time together. Hanging out… being together.”
“I think I’d like that a lot.”, you grin. You wouldn’t lie, you had entertained the idea of a relationship with Sanji before. He was attractive and sweet, stern but caring. A pearl of the sea. But there was something you felt like you needed to get off your chest before you could entertain the idea of a relationship with him.
“Can I ask you a weird question?” You said, turning yourself to face Sanji. “Would you have gone further with me tonight if I were more experienced?” The question seemed to hang in the air for a while.
“It has nothing to do with experience, I promise you.” Sanji’s response was one of dire sincerity. “I just… I don’t want you to think I’m taking advantage of you or the situation.”
“I wouldn’t have even asked you in the first place if I thought that was the case.” You knew Sanji had a track record with women, but you were also aware that he would never intend to put you in a position where your security was jeopardized. “I also know my own limits and how far I would comfortably go.” Sanji’s expression remained focused on your response. He was utterly smitten by you, but would be damned if he blew it on something as trivial as simple miscommunication.
“Come here.” Sanji motioned for you, patting the spot right next to him. You made your way over to him, finding your final spot on his chest. He wrapped an arm around you, playing with your hair. His other hand found itself intertwined with yours, his thumb tracing circles.
You yawned into him, feeling the onset of tiredness start to creep up.
“Getting tired, babe?” Sanji smiled.
“Never.” Your voice betrayed you, fatigue evident. But you didn’t necessarily mind. Sanji was like a human furnace, and the warmth of his body lulled you into a trance of sleep. You cradled yourself into his chest and allowed yourself to fall asleep.
“Good night, sweetheart.” Sanji placed a tender kiss on your forehead, and began to drift off as well.
Sanji was the first to wake up, noticing a dull pressure spread across his waist. As he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, he glanced down to find the root of it. At some point in the night, you had managed to drape your leg across him, anchoring yourself. He couldn’t help but smile, admiring your current state. He was yours and you were his. A few minutes later, you also started to stir.
“G’morning, Mr. Teacher.” You smiled up at him, hoisting yourself up with your arm.
“Have too much fun last night, sweetheart?” Sanji tucked the hair that fell in your face during the night behind your ear.
“Could’ve had some more, but I guess we’ll just have to save it for another lesson.”
Practice does make perfect after all.
#vinsmoke sanji x reader#vinsmoke sanji#one piece#every day i am forced to write subpar fiction yet here we are#just feeling silly goofy quirky
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I have to wonder how many people celebrating AI translation also complain about "broken English" and how obvious it is something was Google translated from another language without a fluent English speaker involved to properly clean up the translation/grammar.
Because I bet it's a lot.
I know why execs are all for it—AI is the new buzzword and it lets them cut jobs thus "save" money and not have to worry about pesky labour laws when one employs humans—but everyone else?
There was some outcry when Crunchyroll fired many of their translators in favour of AI translation (with some people to "clean up the AI's work") but I can't help but think that was in part because it was Japanese-to-English and personally affected them. Same when Duolingo fired many of their translators in favour of LLM translation. Meanwhile companies are firing staff when it's English to another language and there's this idea that that's fine or not as big a deal because English is "easy" to translate and/or because people don't think of how it will impact people in non-English countries.
Also it doesn't affect native English speakers so it doesn't get much headway in the news cycle or online anyway because so much of the dominant media is from English-speaking countries and English-speakers dominate social media.
But different languages have different grammar structures that LLMs don't do, and I grew up on "jokes" about people speaking in "broken English" and mocking people who use the wrong word when it was clearly a literal translation but the meaning was obvious long before LLMs were a thing, too. In fact, the specific way a character spoke broken English has been a way to denote their native tongue for decades, usually in a racist way.
Then Google translate came out and "Google-translated English" became an insult for people and criticism of companies because it was clearly wonky to native speakers. Even now, LLMs—which are heavily trained on English compared to other languages—don't have a natural output so native English speakers can clock LLM-generated text if it's longer than a sentence or two.
But, for whatever reason, it's not seen as a problem when it goes the other way because fuck non-English readers or people who want to read in their native tongue I guess.
#and it's not like no people were doing translations so wonky translations were better than nothing#it's actual translators being fired for a subpar replacement#and anyone who keeps their job suddenly being responsible for cleaning up llm output rather than what they trained in#(which can take just as much time or longer than doing the translation by hand from scratch)#(if you want it done right anyway)#hell to this day i hear people complain about written translations of indigenous words and how they 'aren't english enough'#even though they're using the ipa and use a system white english people came up with in the first place#and you can easily look up the proper pronunciation and hear it spoken#but there's such a double-standard where it's expected that other languages cater to english/english speakers#but that grace and accommodation doesn't go the other way#and it's the failing of non-english speakers when an english translation is broken#you see it whenever monolingual english speakers travel to other countries and utterly refuse to learn the language#but if someone doesn't speak in unaccented (to them) english fluently in their home country the person 'isn't trying hard enough'#this is just the new version of that where non-english speakers are supposed to do more work and put up with subpar translations#even as a native english speaker/writer i get a (much) lesser version of this because i write with canadian spelling#and some people get pissed if their internet experience is disrupted by 'ou' instead of 'o' or '-re' instead of '-er'#because dialects and regional phrasing/spelling is a thing#human translators can (or should) be able to account for it but llms are not smart enough to do so#and that's not even getting into slang and how llms don't account for it#or how llms can put slurs into translations because it doesn't do nuance or context and doesn't know the language#if you ever complained about buying something from another country that came with machine-translated instructions#you should be pissed at companies cutting english-to-[language] staff in favour of glorified google translate#because the companies are effectively saying they're fine with non-native speakers getting a wonky/broken version
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hot take but the movie pjo casino scene was way better than the one in the show
#honestly i feel....disappointed overall#reminds me of watching kenobi-i want to like it a lot more than i do#which is a bummer#i'll keep watching cuz maybe it'll improve and the writing will get better#ireally hope it does!#the actors are so good and doing so great even with the subpar scripts!#text#izuku.post#pjo show crit
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bonus hanzawa to tashiro (ft. the anomalous agate)
have you read the anomalous agate? yes? if so, this is the bonus I was talking about—if not, as long as you know what I mean by hanzawa to tashiro, this should still make sense. if you were introduced to hanzawa and tashiro as characters through the anomalous agate and that alone, consider reading this post where I explain little but talk a lot.
this bonus scene takes place between the two scenes in ch 4 of the anomalous agate. specifically, it takes place around two weeks after the first scene in ch 4 / a week before the last scene in ch 4, during tashiro's cultural festival as a third-year.
and since this exists within the context of the anomalous agate, which is written first-person and trying to emulate seigi's pov, this bonus is written in tashiro's pov, and attempts to blend my style with tashiro's first-person narration in love & passion.
ok I think I've spent enough time talking. fun stuff is below the cut!
bonus: hanzawa to tashiro, ft. the anomalous agate
Tashiro Gonzaburou, third-year. At the moment, I was experiencing a horrible case of déjà vu.
Two years ago, I’d lost so badly at a ping pong match that I’d stumbled my way into being the captain of the ping pong club. And as much as I liked the club, and had even gotten pretty good at ping pong, I was still pretty annoyed about having been tricked into joining.
Though the former captain of the ping pong club who’d tricked me then wasn’t the former captain in front of me now, I couldn’t help but feel the way I had then—cornered.
It was hard to pinpoint the exact reason. Maybe it was the black and red sailor uniform I was wearing. But Kuresawa had worn it just fine the year before, so even though I hadn’t shaved my leg hair, I couldn’t have looked too bad. I’d also worn this specific outfit quite a few times—we’d needed to adjust the fit, and I’d needed to practice my lines. Maybe it was the makeup I was getting done. But I’d tried some of that before, too. Getting blush dusted on my cheeks had gone almost exactly as the same as it had last time.
Almost, except for one thing: it was way too quiet. The guy sitting in front of me, Hanzawa Masato, was probably used to that kind of thing. In fact, he was the type to take a normal silence, extend it until I felt awkward, and then mercilessly tease me whenever I blurted out something to fill the space.
“Weird to see you with earrings on,” I said. …And here I was, falling for it again.
Hanzawa-senpai didn’t seem fazed at all by what I’d just said, but he was an annoying guy who looked the same whether he was angry or not. “You’ve seen me wear them before, though?”
“Not in school,” I pointed out. Hanzawa-senpai had been a terrible sadist of a president, but he was squeaky-clean about the way he did it. Even now, with his earrings clearly visible, he was the perfect picture of a model student working in quiet concentration.
Hanzawa-senpai hummed in thought, his hands rummaging through the bag of makeup products he’d left on a nearby desk. “Well, I’m not a student anymore,” he said with a shrug. “Even so, aren’t they fairly hidden?”
As if—they were small, and a plain steel color, but it was Hanzawa-senpai. Of course I couldn’t stop staring.
“Trying to hide your delinquent ways?” I asked, not expecting a serious answer. Hanzawa-senpai’s secrets probably had secrets. He’d passed over his title of captain to me, so I knew his caginess wasn’t completely because I was unreliable, but it still bothered me.
“If you’re looking for a delinquent, look in the mirror,” Hanzawa-senpai teased, and then produced some kind of torture contraption from his bag. “Now don’t move, okay?”
I yelped and threw my hands up in self-defense. “You can’t put that thing near my face!”
Hanzawa-senpai just laughed at me, close enough that I could feel his breath on my face. Sadist!
“It’s just an eyelash curler, Tashiro-kun,” he drawled. “Calm down, would you?”
I shook my head furiously. “No way,” I said, ready to fight for my life. When we’d gone over the basics, this guy hadn’t mentioned this step—I’d bet anything it was purposeful! “How can—”
A warm hand curled around my wrists, and I froze. Hanzawa-senpai pulled my hands away from my face, pressing in close, and made an order: “Sit still, would you?”
I’d barely listened when he was captain of the ping pong club, but something about his voice held me in place. I’d never really thought about it before, but Hanzawa-senpai had one of those storybook-narrator voices—the kind that made even simple things sound weirdly compelling. And then he had to go be one of the most eloquent people I’d met, too.
So, my eyes, which I thought would never hold still, obediently refrained from twitching as Hanzawa-senpai slowly curled my lashes.
The process was less painful than I thought, but it was still freaky—my vision was half metal, and so even though I knew that Hanzawa-senpai was right in front of me, the only real cue for that was the way he kept murmuring instructions into my ears. Once he’d curled my eyelashes, he carefully applied mascara, and then leaned back to survey his work.
I could finally breathe again. My eyes felt… different?
“Blink a few times,” Hanzawa-senpai suggested.
After taking his advice, I got a bit more used to the feeling. “Huh.”
“Eyeshadow next.” After that announcement, Hanzawa-senpai started digging through his bag again.
“Right,” I suddenly remembered, “Were you planning on buying something fancy?” At Hanzawa-senpai’s blank stare, I elaborated, “Fancy earrings. Since there’s that jeweler guy you’re friends with.”
“Not friends,” Hanzawa-senpai corrected after a beat. “I’ve met him a total of four times.”
You’re counting?
For two people who weren’t friends, they sure had talked to each other like they were. And now Hanzawa-senpai was looking through his stuff with a strange look in his eyes, so I’d clearly touched some kind of nerve.
I sighed. “Do you have to overthink everything?”
He didn’t even pause his search. “Maybe you could stand to think more?”
“Hey!” I crossed my arms. I think about you all the time, don’t I?
“…Okay, that was a little rude,” Hanzawa-senpai admitted. “Forgive me?” When he smiled, his eyes would always curve in a way that made it impossible to be angry.
“…We’re doing eyeshadow next, right?”
Instead of answering, he pressed an eyeshadow palette in my hand. Palette wasn’t the right word—what did you call something that was just one eyeshadow? Before I could think too hard about it, I got distracted by the eyeshadow’s color. “…You’re not colorblind, are you?”
“I can tell that’s green,” Hanzawa-senpai said, clearly amused. “No, that’s just for you.” He gestured to the eyeshadow palette in his hands, which was way more color-appropriate. “Close your eyes.”
I did close them, but I couldn’t stop thinking—what did “just for you” mean?
After I’d faced an eyelash curler, the eyeshadow and eyeliner didn’t seem so bad. The hardest part was staying still—how did some girls do this daily?
Once Hanzawa-senpai was done, he tugged me to a standing position, and moved a few steps away to check the result. Judging by the irritating smugness radiating from his expression, he’d done a good job.
“Where’d you get this eyeshadow?” I asked, holding up the one still clutched in my hand. I couldn’t bring myself to ask why.
“…When I was helping Seigi cover his bruise, I happened to find it, and—” He shrugged, deliberately casual. “You like that shade of green.”
I did. It was my favorite color, and I wore it all the time. But I still didn’t understand why Hanzawa-senpai had gotten this eyeshadow for me. And I didn’t understand why my chest felt so weird when I heard him talk about Seigi.
“…Is that everything, then?” I asked.
“There’s lip gloss,” Hanzawa-senpai said, handing me a tube of the stuff, “but that’s easy enough for you to do. Sit down, but turn to the side—I’ll do your hair.”
I had a faint memory of Shirahama saying he didn’t trust anyone else with hairstyling, but I figured he’d accept Hanzawa-senpai’s skills, so I didn’t protest.
In this new setup, I was stuck staring at a random classroom wall. Though I couldn’t see Hanzawa-senpai standing behind me, I could feel the brush he was carefully pulling through my hair, working through the tangles with a steady hand.
“You know,” I said, “why didn’t you ever do the contest yourself? You’d be so good at it.”
“I prefer to be on the sidelines for this kind of thing, I think.”
“Makes sense,” I said. “But if you did—oh, you’d have to pick out a name!”
“A name?”
“It’s a conversation I had with Kuresawa. Like, his girl name would be Tasuko. And I could just shorten my first name to be something like Gon-chan. For you, maybe… Masako?”
I thought he’d laugh at my lack of naming sense, but instead, Hanzawa-senpai just shook his head. “That one’s out—it’s my sister’s name.”
“Ah—that’s right, you have a few siblings, don’t you?”
“I do. And you’re quite obviously an only child.”
“How do you know that?”
He simply smiled. “It’s impossible not to.”
“...Sure,” I said.
I didn’t have an immediate reply, so I unscrewed the tube of lip gloss. It was easy enough to apply, even without a mirror, so once that was over, my thoughts wandered.
What kind of magical, mystical quality did having siblings give to someone? Maybe even thinking that was what made me an only child, but really…
I stole a glance up at Hanzawa-senpai. If this guy was my brother, I don’t know if I would cry or laugh.
As it turned out, you couldn’t unnoticeably look upwards when you had someone’s hands fiddling with your hair. Our gazes met, and Hanzawa-senpai smiled—like a cat who’d gotten the canary. I stayed frozen in place as he leaned down.
“Alright, Gon-chan,” Hanzawa-senpai purred. “It looks like you’re all set.”
My face turned instantly, abruptly red. No wonder Miyano had said I’d been way too casual about accepting the name. It definitely, definitely, without a doubt, definitely, definitively, couldn’t be used casually!
Hanzawa-senpai straightened back up. “...Tashiro-kun?”
“I—” My voice came out way too high. “I’m going to ask Shirahama to help with my hair!”
Then I ran as fast as my legs could carry me.
(...Running in a skirt wasn’t that hard—it was actually kind of fun—but that was the last thing on my mind, then.)
#so yeah in case its obvious: I'm not doing two versions of this scene#i have one half-written but 1) it needs a lot more work and 2) i kind of feel like this stands on its own and#itd be worse if it had to accompany smthing subpar#maybe another day maybe never is where I'm at about it now#anyways. i don't think anyone will be too mad lol#i just felt the need to clarify#kiri.txt#hanzawa to tashiro#the anomalous agate#hanzashiro#tashiro gonzaburou#hanzawa masato#my writing
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Andor is so fucking good that it retroactively makes a trilogy of 40 year old movies BETTER holy shit
#andor#i have never felt so spoiled#maybe the fact that i kinda expect subpar writing and fun from star wars contributed to#the fact that this show hit me like a train#it is not relevant. its timeless#humanity will always have an empire to fight as long as injustice prevails
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#I do not watch the last of us#I barely know what it is#for years I thought it was a walking dead spin off#but fucking gif sets of that scene#have been all over my fyp#and I have so many daddy issues#so *gestures vaguely to my subpar meme*#the last of us#tlou hbo#pedro pascal#sorry I have no idea who anyone else in the show is#wright writes#it’s okay it’s okay baby girl
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someone should draw kiwi in a dress
#like one of those poofy princess dresses#if i could draw i would but my artistic abilities only stretch as far as writing and making subpar sculptures#he’s very royal coded but the kind of royal you see like once a year and it’s in the background of a picture of a different royal#tomi.txt#jakub kiwior
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DISCLAIMER: I don’t mean surprise pregnancy or any one specific trope, just the general presence and focus of pregnancy within fics.
I’m genuinely curious because I’ve seen so many people reacting negatively to it but at that same time there have to be so many existing fics for a reason.
#polls#pregnancy trope#fanfic#ao3#fanfiction#tumblr polls#mpreg#omegaverse#a/b/o dynamics#writing trope#tropes#fanfic tropes#I could add a wattpad tag but I draw the line at subpar fanfic sites
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Weird idea(s) for my Reimagined Hazbin thing:
I might give it a new name soon. Just so we can differentiate it from the original one. Because the more I do this the more I kind of wish this was my own story but wish it also wasn't. I have mixed feelings.
Charlie is technically hald angel, because Lucifer is her father.
But her personality is so unbelievably doe-eyed innocent to the point where it's really frustrating and doesn't make sense. That's something we all know. I've said it before, many others have said it, not a new take.
But I do have a weird concept for my rewrite. I have my jungle for that she keeps This truly horrifying form hidden underneath her porcelain doll like exterior. It's a concept I've played with before. (More under the cut)
I like the idea sje made this rehab project out of some spite against Lucifer. If Lucifer restaurant of Heaven for trying to be better than God, maybe Charlie is trying to be better than Lucifer. In a sense it's come full circle.
But it made me think, would have been really reject her so much just because she happened to be related to lucifer? Would they have let her into heaven at some point?
Does Lucifer have shared custody with Lilith in heaven?? Because we see Charlie get taken away as a child, but she's still in hell right now?
Did she go to hell my choice? Was she forced to go? Is it a shared custody thing and then she decided to stay in hell in adulthood?
Part of me is actually kind of curious to explore what that kind of childhood would be like to experience.
And I do wonder if maybe I should explore that in my reimagined version of her. Did she spend part of her childhood in heaven and part of it in hell?
And I also thought about her role in hell overall. Lucifer is immortal, so why have anybody possibly inherit the throne? What is the point of that? Especially for somebody who is infamously selfish and prideful like Lucifer.
Is she not quite holy and not quite unholy?
And then I had a thought.
Maybe her domain isn't heaven, and it isn't hell.
It's limbo, the in between.
I like the idea that she's full of conflicting intentions, just as her childhood was. Does she question her own motives? Is she actually doing this for the greater good or to prove a point? That's what I want to explore. I like the idea that she still has a cutesy exterior, but her true form is barely contained.
She suppressed it, she denies it, she doesn't want to be a demon, but it's part if her, she too, is flawed. She wants to believe she is a wise moral compass, but she too, is lost.
Maybe she has some friends in hell and some in heaven.
Quick sketch I did.
It might be a weird concept, but isn't that the point of Indie projects? To experiment? To try other things? See what happens.
So, tell me, what do you think of this idea?
If you have any questions or would like any clarifications, let me know.
I'm typing this whole Post in one go so it may not make as much as I think it does.
#subpar speaks#hazbin critical#charlie reimagine#vivziepop critical#I do not support Vivziepop#I do not like the show as is#it feels like the original concept had potential#if you look at it like a series of writing prompts#I feel like people have taken this concept and ran with it all over the internet#and I think that is beautiful#anti vivziepop#anti hazbin hotel#anti harassment
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