#ONE DAY THE PEOPLE WILL KNOW WHAT THE JAZZ IS HAPPENING BUT ALSO LIKE SPACE AU

[socksandbuttons]

Bestie hitting me with 'Everything Stays'in the underrem playlist again

#itS A COVER AND I DIED #ONE DAY THE PEOPLE WILL KNOW WHAT THE JAZZ IS HAPPENING BUT ALSO LIKE SPACE AU #i forget what ill show and tell thus #anyway i will ramble one day about underrem about SOEMTHIGN and youll have to there with no context #u know i could start with frisks arrival #technically its before nightmares corruption (well... full corruption. im so sorry buddy) #itd sure give ya questions

[the-kr8tor]

Hello, I've been trying to reach you about your cars extended warranty:)

(Requesting Reverse Isekai AU thingy please^^)

I don't even have a car 😭 (thank you for requesting muah 😘)

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Word count: 1.1k

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, lovestruck reader, reverse isekai AU, fluff.

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

One minute you're mindlessly scrolling through your phone with your headphones blaring loud music, a minute later you're screaming bloody murder when a geometric glowing portal pops up in your room. It made everything in the room glow orange and yellow as confusion and surprise took over your form.

Are you getting abducted by aliens? Are you in an episode of Rick and Morty? If so, then multiverses are real, it's either that or the mold from your numerous stock water bottles has finally gotten to your brain.

A half second into your contemplation, out comes a man that you're oh so familiar with and oh so smitten with. His boots thump loudly on your floors, spikes glimmering under the red LED lights. The whites of his mask widen when he spots you cowering in the corner, darkness overtakes you when his oh so familiar voice echoes above the whir of the portal.

“This ain't 1346.” You fall off the bed like a damsel in distress.

—

You wake up to water gently splashing your face, flicking more like. And your head aching, eyes adjusting to the sudden light.

“Fuckin' finally, I thought you were dead.” A garbled voice utters as your ears try to waken up from your deep nap. “You alright there?” His voice clears and you still think you're dreaming when Hobie Brown's mask pops up in your vision, droopy eyeliner, spikes and all that jazz that you've practically memorized in your mind.

You thought your poster has once again fallen off the walls and onto your bed. But no, when you touched his bicep abruptly, eyes as wide as saucers, lips stuttering out his name. Your favourite character is real and right in your bedroom, flicking water from one of your numerous discarded water bottles on your bedside.

Even your wildest imagination couldn't make this up.

“You're Hobie Brown.” You say in disbelief, voice just above a whisper.

“Yeah, I figured you know me based on all of these…” he roams his eyes on your walls and table. “...posters and stickers. What am I over here? A rockstar or somethin’? Since you know my name.”

“You're Hobie motherfucking Brown!” You screech, suddenly jumping off the bed, looking like someone just told you Santa isn't real.

“That I am.” Said man has the audacity to smirk at you. And you swear you would have fainted again. “You a big fan?”

“I love you.” Your voice merely a murmur but he for sure heard it as the eyes of his mask widened for a brief second.

“I think it's time for us to chat, yeah, love?”

“L-love? Fucking…” voice wavering, you drop once again, but this time he catches you perfectly without the motion sickness from traveling to one dimension after another.

Hobie chuckles, eyes staring at your sleeping face, mouth still agape from the surprise and skin hot under his gloves. “Never thought someone could faint twice in one day.”

—

There's a glass of cold water in your hands, legs nervously bouncing under the blanket. He sits at the foot of your bed, giving you enough space so as to not make you uncomfortable in your own home, and to also not make you pass out (again) from the close proximity. His iconic boots are discarded, vest folded next to him, and mask in his pocket. You almost fainted again when he took it off.

“So, this Miles from earth–1610 is gonna get chased by Miguel and the entire society because he doesn't want his canon event to happen?” You nod as he recalls your story. Not a story anymore as this Hobie hasn't experienced it yet. Of course you didn't tell him the entire plot, just in case it rips a hole in the space time continuum. “And a few people are gonna need a watch?”

You sniffle, skin so warm that you think you're boiling the water in your hands.

“Hmm, that checks out. Good thing I started making these watches then eh, love?” His mischievous smile makes your stomach do flips, you're sure he's doing it intentionally.

Pinching yourself under the covers, chugging down the cool water, you muster up enough courage to actually speak coherent words.

“H-how’d you get here?”

“Fucked up my coordinates, I think. I'm pretty sure I'm not in Kansas anymore.” Hobie chuckles at his own joke before switching his attention to your wide eyed self. “Wizard of oz, you do have that here, right?”

“Y-yes,” you say meekly, drowning in his blue? Grey? Or brown eyes? You have no idea as his borders and colors change every minute or so. Nevertheless, you're absolutely done for. You guess this is what it feels like to meet your favourite celebrity, or in this case, favourite character. “Reverse isekai.” You whisper, nerding out at the possibilities.

“A what?” He says in his accent and you tamp down the feeling of wanting to say it back jokingly.

You clear your throat, “nothing.”

Nodding, he inhales, eyes darting around your fangirl room full of fandom merch and of course spiderverse merch. He zeroes in on the body pillow peeking under the blanket. You immediately lift the covers up to hide it, accidentally spilling water all over yourself and the bed. *Great, very smooth, you thought.

His eyes are soft and full of endearment whilst he watches you frantically and desperately dry yourself off.

You hope that he doesn't tease, but you know him, know his character, so you anticipate what happens next.

“What was that then?” He pats your foot, head tilting to look at you. You feel your head swirl again, and you swear the water spilled all over you evaporates from the sheer heat from your skin.

“N-nothing, Hobie.” You sink into the mattress.

“Right,” He unfolds his vest, putting it back on. “It's been great, but I gotta go.”

“Oh,” you blink, “do you want me to take out the posters? I'm sorry for making you uncomfortable.”

He shakes his head with a smile. “Nah, not uncomfortable, I've been in worse dimensions. This ain't that bad really.”

“They're bootlegs if that makes it more okay.”

Hobie laughs and you practically melt from the sound.

“Bootleg, huh? That's a great name, project bootleg it is.” His smile blinds you for a second. You feel like you've ascended to heaven. “I have a tight schedule, being Spider-Man and all, but maybe I can visit again to get some insider knowledge of the future. Eh, Oracle?”

“S-sure,” you choke on the singular word. “It's a date— wait– no, I meant—”

Hobie chuckles, hands on his hips, bouncing on the balls of his boot clad feet, and border turning bright pink. For some reason, in all your clumsy and goofy self, you just made *the Spider-Man sheepish. Not just any Spider-Man, Hobie Brown, your absolute favourite out of all the thousands of Spider-people in the entire multiverse.

“It's a date then, no fainting next time yeah? I'll still catch you anyway, but it wouldn't be that fun if you're sleeping through it.”

“Okay.” You manage to say, heart loudly beating in your chest when his art style changes into love poems etched into his design.

He jumps inside the portal to hide the poems, winking at you before his body disappears into the void.

As the portal closes, you pass out once again, with a lopsided smile this time.

#request done #hobie brown x reader #spider punk x reader #the kr8tor's creations #hobie brown #atsv fanfiction #spider punk #atsv fanfic #atsv x reader #atsv hobie #fanfic #hobie brown x fem!reader #spider punk x fem!reader #hobie brown x you #spider punk x you #hobie x reader #hobie fluff #reverse isekai au

[beemochi-art]

Omg I love this already-

Can you do 22, 34, 36 for jazz and prowl plz!

22) Jazz has a pretty clear love language. He can’t seem to keep his hands off Prowl, or be very far away from him. Jazz loves touching and kisses. Very cuddly. Prowl is Jazz’s safe space basically. He will also bring him energon cubes even if prowl already had one. Or he’ll pour some of his into Prowl’s cup.

Prowls love language is letting get away with all this All the public affection and invading his personal space. Anyone else tries even a quarter of what Jazz does would get snapped at. But with Jazz he not only lets it happen but welcomes it. Sometimes Prowl will tell him it’s too much, but that’s rarely. Prowl also likes giving gifts, is hard sometimes tho when Jazz is like, “I don’t want anything but you .” Sigh, lingerie shopping it is. (Prowl feels silly putting that stuff on but Jazz loves it.)

Their shared love language tho is messing with each of. Intentionally stepping on buttons to get a reaction. (Playing essentially.) when mess with each other it’s never huge it’s just little things like, prowl taking Jazz’s food right in front of him or Jazz licking Prowl directly in the face. (Both of these things I’ve draw.) jazz is not easy to annoy or get a reaction out of and no one would ever expect Prowl of doing anything fun of the sorts.

Fundamental they are both two very different people. But their differences complement each other. Prowl has loosened up a little and Jazz has someone he can rely on when he’s upset rather than bottling up emotions.

34) When Prowl is upset he goes looking for Jazz. Some how Jazz’s cuddling and cooing always makes him feel better. When Prowl is scared or distraught he’ll cling to Jazz like a lifeline. It’s Prowl’s tern to be the clingy one.

When Jazz is upset he’s not hugging or any of his usual antics, he’ll still seek out Prowl but will just sit next to him, letting Prowl close the distance.

When Jazz is really upset or worse really angry. He won’t go to Prowl at all. Prowl obviously goes looking for him, he knows something’s up when Jazz is no where to be seen. When Prowl does find him, he doesn’t touch him or ask him what’s wrong. Prowl instead says to him, let’s go to the track or gym. anywhere to get the excess energy out. Jazz doesn’t say anything but follows Prowl there. Prowl will burn energy too sure, but this is for Jazz. And when Jazz is finally done he’s shaking and breathing hard. But finally he’ll open up and tell Prowl what’s wrong. Sometimes Jazz will completely crack and not even say anything but go to Prowl and cry, finally they are hugging, maybe later when when emotions aren’t so high will they talk, but now all Jazz needs is comfort.

Jazz is an emotional wreck and no one’s knows but prowls.

When it’s not at all a big deal. He’ll act like this.

36) Jazz is more protective. He will fight. Sometimes it’s annoying to Prowl.

Prowl knows Jazz is very capable of taking care of himself, so often times Prowl will let him handle it. But if it’s a jab at their relationship or it ultra Magnus is taking it too far. Prowl will step is and the yelling starts, if you think you can out yell and out bitch prowl. You’re wrong. Jazz will be behind him with the biggest shit eating grin. When Prowl gets done with the verbal ass whooping, he’ll take his lunch break early, all while holding hands with jazz.

When they are both in battle, they are pretty good at avoiding major damage, but they’d take a bullet for each other any day.

#transformers #my art #ask game #asks #jazz #prowl #jazz prowl #prowl jazz #Forte-verse

[plenilune]

what a weird year it's been! this time last year I remember being so high on not wanting to die for the first time in years that I was ecstatic to greet 2023 and find out what I could do in it -- I don't feel that way this year, buffetted about by circumstance and my stupid human body and brain, but I don't feel defeated. I feel like I made a good first pass at a piece of work and now I'm going to take a hack at another draft. I made some good ground. not all the ground I was hoping to make, but a lot I wasn't expecting. I feel good about my ability to keep building a life and a self I can be more and more joyful to occupy.

I tried a lot of new things and some of them didn't work but most of them did. I said yes to a lot of weird shit. I had so many experiences this year. I'm glad I spent a night dancing and smoking on the fire escape outside a masonic lodge and being absolutely drenched in rain. I'm glad Corey and I went on a gorgeous queer group ride with a bunch of other queer cyclists through the streets of our favourite parts of northern Kentucky and then bicycled back home together. I'm glad I had a not-quite-one-night stand and bused home as the sun rose golden and alive and lovely. I'm glad I re-learned the importance of dancing at clubs until I can barely move. I'm glad I saw Oldboy in the cinema and was so adrenalised that I jumped up and down on the sidewalk and screamed waiting for my bus home. I started painting back patches and sewing things onto my clothing and making jewellery and collaging and cropping all my tshirts and sweaters.

I started writing again .god, I started writing again.

and I broke my phone, my glasses, and my computer and struggled financially and took a nightmarish disaster trip to Philadelphia for my grandmother's funeral and I lost access to meds for reasons that were completely my own fault and thus sunk into a mire of depression and fatigue for several months that could have been completely avoided. I struggled to connect to people and struggled to feed myself and been a goddamn wreck. I didn't really accomplish most of the things I thought I was going to, that I started with eagerness and energy at the beginning of the year.

but hell. I built some shit. now I can keep building on top of it. I feel like a completely different person sometimes now, with different possibilities. I fucked up and lost and careened into walls of bad luck over and over this year but I feel better for and about it than I have in a long time. okay, that's new muscles. okay okay okay. new page, new draft, we can go again.

anyway. this year I want to push forward more deliberately on some of the stuff I found out I could do this year -- obviously I am continuing to work on my goddamn space heist book, but also specifically pursue block printing, drag/burlesque, bass, and making zines in 2024 instead of just experimenting with them. bicycle more, cook more, invest in people more, Not Go Off My Meds At Any Point, play more video games, watch more films. (I watched over sixty this year! after barely watching films for so long I didn't know what my own taste was any more, and feeling the shame and confusion of having once been a kid who wanted to go to film school but didn't know what movies they liked any more.)

anyway. here's to all of you who have kept me alive and interested in the world this year. my beloved partner is making arriabbiata and playing jazz in the next room. I have to work first thing tomorrow but tonight I'm going to finish the first season of Better Call Saul and poke at my novel and the day after tomorrow I'm going to have tea and listen to music and sew patches onto my jacket and best flannel. I'm going to keep finding new things to be alive for. I'm going to create a self I want to live inside. I'm excited to know what things are going to happen to me in 2024. I'm excited to learn about new ways to feel joy.

goodnight, 2023. you were a mess and I loved you more often than I didn't.

#the diary #the new year

[cybertroniannugget]

Pangea and mt Vesuvius

Not what I originally intended to post here, as I'm writing some spice at the moment but THIS is what my mind was occupied with all freaking day... The whole desaster takes place somewhere in the first movie or between 1 and two. Some details are changed up Which I did on purpose. I know all the movies from start to finish because the hyperfixations are hyperfixating real hard right now.

This is just a random story of how I get idk let's say teleported into the bayverse movies and how I'd probably handle that.

While I sprinkled in a bit more confidence than I actually got, I think it's an accurate representation of what kind of person I am: always cracking jokes, overthinking EVERYTHING, random useless knowledge that turns out to be somewhat useful.

About this fic: sfw, implied romance with OP, trans ftm character, no reader just Alex, confused Autobots they still need to learn so much about earth and everything, I also don't know okay?

This is just me struggling while simping hard for Optimus.

But we still ain't know what fucked up big M's navigation system when he crashed. Infact, why are all of our navigation systems useless here?! ", Jazz adressed, arms crossed over his chassis. "We all be getting lost all the time.

"I think I know why"

Oh please, why did I speak up just now...

All optics and eyes were fixed on me as I said that, making me immediately regret opening my mouth in the first place but here we are now.

"What? Maybe your systems think you're on Pangea.", I said, taking in the same position as Jazz by crossing my arms over my chest.

Optimus leaned closer, one servo on the railing, blue optics studying me thoroughly as to look for any signs of lie in my attitude.

"Pangea? May you elaborate?"

Hearing this deep voice so full of interest made me feel things honestly.

"The supercontinent. Wait, Imma show you."

I take out my phone, careful not to reveal the background, because I couldn't find the time to change it yet.

"Here, this is earth today. You see everything, Europe, Asia, South and North America, Autralia, Greenland and all the islands in the oceans."

"And this is Pangea, it broke apart into the continents as we know them today about 200 million years ago. This is probably what Megatron had in mind. See? When you look at a map of earth today you might think, if you turn south America around and snug it up to north America, they fit like a puzzle. It's because they were together as part of the supercontinent. Or push it up to Africa, same thing. Just squish it all together"

"That human is incredibly well educated.", Ratchet chimed in.

"That human has a name and thank you."

"But why did that happen? It makes no sense.", Ironhide complained, lifting one servo as to show his frustration in what I just said.

"If I may...", I look at Lennox, awaiting some kind of approval to continue. He nods and so I proceed with my explanation.

"Well, I don't know how to explain it scientifically, but I'll try to make it understandable."

Optimus nods, listening carefully. How do these highly educated space robots not know about that? But who am I to judge, they aren't from here so I can't expect them to know everything about earth.

"I think it probably started because of something called mantle convection. That means the heat from earth's interior rises up to the hardened crust. That caused it to break open, creating a volcanic rift zone. The cracks went further, the tectonic plates drifted apart. The rifts filled with water over time and while the plates drifted farther away, the oceans were formed. Or something like that I don't know but today we've got 6 continents."

Always undermining everything I say, great job on trying to act confident...

"And Greenland, I don't discriminate.", I added as some people eyed me.

"But I don't know if Pangea is what your systems used as the base to calculate. There were other tectonic combinations even before that, but it's a wild guess I'd say. I am certain it was one of them."

As I was explaining, Optimus' gaze changed to a warmer tone and I could feel my pulse rise to my ears. He was just so beautiful, and seeing him for the first time in person made my heart flutter uncontrollably. I wish I could tell him how I feel,

But this is real. No scenarios, no daydreaming or fanfiction. It was as real as it could get. Damn it, I wanted to shift here, not get teleported or whatever caused me to end up here with all of them. I hope we can atleast become friends. No need to get my hopes up though.

"Alexander?"

The baritone voice of the Prime pulled me out of my thoughts about him.

"Hm?"

"What kind of heat were you talking about?"

"Oh that. Well, starting at earth's core, it's liquid magma. It's really hot, like 5.200 Celsius hot. 9.000 something Fahrenheit for the Americans here..."

This was met with laughter and I continued with my lesson or whatever you might wanna call it I don't care, I'm struggling here okay?

"The further you go up, the 'cooler' it gets.", I say, underlining the word cooler with my hands in a joking matter.

"They probably got fancy scientific names but don't ask me which. Anyways shit's really hot. And it's what shoots up from volcanoes.", I finish as I look into a round of confused optics and a few tilted helms.

"Volcanoes? When tectonic plates crush against each other, or built up pressure is released, no?"

They all look at eachother, chuckling coming from my fellow humans around me.

"Okay here, that's mt vesuvius, big ass volcano."

"Sometimes these mfs shoot lava from this hole up there, pretty fascinating and scary at the same time.. It looks like this.", I add as they look at the pictures, not knowing whether to be amazed or afraid.

"The glowing stuff you see here is the lava. When it's still underneath the crust it's called magma."

"Are there many on earth?"

"Yup, don't get too close."

Optimus' optics widen at that statement of mine

"Don't worry bossbot, not on this island. The closest from here is next to Madagascar, Africa. Unless you decide to swim a few rounds up there there's no need to get worried."

The Prime relaxes, shoulders dropping while optics still focused on me.

Why is he looking at me like that? I mean I ain't complaining but if he continues like that Imma internally combust.

"You explain everything so well Alexander."

"Please, call me Alex. Alexander seems so long."

The Prime nods understandingly. "Very well then, Alex."

Oh god make it stop. I love you so much Optimus please...!

"His heart rate just shot up exponentially.", Ratchet mentioned and it was right then and there that I wanted to vanish, dissappear, sink into the ground, never to be seen again.

"Haha yeah, chronic Tachycardia, no need to worry."

That was a lie. Yes, my pulse is through the roof right now, but I've got no heart disease.

As I was met with confusion from every bot except Ratchet I explained before any questions could be asked.

"It's a general term to describe an elevated heartrate. You know, the thing in a human's chest that pumps blood through our body."

"Blood?"

"Oh come on. Okay, well then I can explain that to you guys later. And answer any questions you have as it seems no one else here cares about your education on earth and it's inhabitants.", I say grumpily, looking at Lennox, who raised his hands in defeat.

"I can see us becoming friends Alex.", Jazz laughed.

"Looking forward to it!", I said, pointing fingerguns at the silver bot, which is met with more laughter.

"Okay, class is over, what are we gonna do now?", Ironhide asks into the round of bots and humans.

I just shrug, looking at Optimus, who was still looking at me. But when I looked at him, he quickly looked away to Ironhide.

Cutie~

"Alex seems to know so much, why not ask her?."

That statement of a bystanding soldier was met with a glare from Optimus.

"Alex is a he, you better make sure to remember that!"

They went to protest, but Optimus wouldn't let them. "Unless you wish to get what humans call fired."

Oh shit he's really mad...

"I will make sure of that if you continue your unreasonable behavior."

As he said that I could swear I saw the soldier shrink right then and there infront of my own two eyes.

He looks at everyone. "This counts for everyone here. You will respect Alex."

Oh god, he's standing up for me I can't please marry me Optimus, like right now!

"Okay, lessons aside.", Epps put a hand on my shoulder, smiling. "You were great by the way. I think we can use that for good."

He looked between everyone, a stern expression replacing the warm smile, hand leaving my shoulder. "As much as of a crucial hint this is, we can't know for sure what's exactly causing the malfunction. Better dig people."

True honestly, but HOW is anyone supposed to figure it out without cutting someone open? Megs maybe...?!

"Something's on your mind again, I can see that.", Bumblebee said with snippets over the radio.

"What, me?! It's nothing."

"Nothing?!", Jazz protested. "You just gave us the best clue we could ask for. I'm no Optimus Prime but I can say that I wanna hear ya out my man."

He looks up at Optimus, who was looking at me again after listening to his lieutenant.

"I must say, that you have given us great insight on your mental capabilities Alex."

He leans closer and it took everything of the mental capabilities he just mentioned to not kiss him right here right now.

"Well uh, it's just some kind of impulsive thought. You know, the ones you can't really control...",I said nervously, one hand behind my neck, avoiding everyone's gaze.

But he didn't budge, only blinking once while awaiting an answer.

"Okay, you're not budging I see. Fine."

Taking a deep breath and regretting every life choice I had made up until that point, I went on. "Look, I don't know anything about Cybertronian culture and how things are handled. Especially this right here. Us humans, we always wanna know what exactly caused certain events. For example death here. So we came up with analyzing the body of the dead by cutting them open and stuff, it's called autopsy. Maybe, just maybe we could find something. I know Megatron ain't dead but he's in some sort of... Stasis? Someone could check his navigation system and maybe find the cause for the disruption."

I lower my shoulders, trying to be as small as I possibly could infront of Optimus, who's gaze I couldn't quite interpret.

"On Cybertron, there is quite a similar practise."

"So you're saying it's worth a shot, Prime?", Ironhide asks, unsure of what to think of the situation. "But he's not dead, as Alexander pointed out correctly.", Ratchet added.

Optimus turned around to face his Autobots.

"This may be our only chance. We must take it. For the sake of both worlds. This war has been going on for so long, we cannot let this hold us down. And now it seems there is a way to find out why this is happening. We will fix it, together."

Now it was on Lennox to speak up again.

"So we gon' dissect Megatron? I'm all in honestly. That fucker did enough damage."

My eyes widen at that. "They're not gonna kill him!" Unsure of the righteousness of what I just said I looked at Optimus, who nodded.

"See? They're just gonna take out the navigation system and leave."

"Ooh, big M is gonna be SO mad when he finds out."

"He won't.", Optimus retorted with an absolute certainty in his voice.

"Alright then, it's settled. Prepare people and gather as much information as possible for this mission and await any orders from Big O!"

And with that final order of Lennox the soldiers scattered around, leaving immediately.

Okay great, I'm gonna go be useless again wohoo.

"Alex?"

I look toward the sound of the voice I already grew to cherish. "I know, I know. I ain't accompanying you. I'd die if I did, already know that."

The Prime nods.

"I am glad you understand."

I love you so much I wish I could tell you...

As he remained standing there I grew nervous, fidgeting with the strings of my hoodie.

"Is there something you need?"

"Wha- me? No! Just... go be a hero.

You know you're good at it."

I clear my throat, pretty sure Optimus could hear my pulse. "But remember to take a break sometimes. I always see you up and about."

Did I overstep? I knew it. Chance blown. Goodbye earth. No romance.

"I highly appreciate your concern Alex."

He's always saying my name help. Is he just being polite or what does this mean?!

"There is this human saying. What was it again? I grab it with my heart...?"

Please he's so cute I can't~

"I'll take it to heart was it probably. It means to honor someone's wishes as you see them important."

He tilts his helm in question. "The person or the wish?"

That is when I think all the 5 liters of blood inside my body went up to my face.

Keep calm, stay cool Alex. Don't embarrass yourself.

"It's up to the person saying that."

Whatever higher power there is, please help me!

"You deem my wellbeing as important and so do I"

Phew, that was close...

"Can it be both?"

WHAT

"Eh, sure. There's always room for interpretation."

I guess...?

What has my life come to? They probably think I'm a know it all person. I gotta keep my damn mouth shut from now on.

"Very well then Alex, I look forward to working with you."

I only nod, trying not to get lost in those beautiful blue optics.

"I'm sure it's gonna be great Optimus!"

Unless I unsubscribe from life because a Deception squishes me...

#transformers x reader #optimus prime x reader #optimus x reader #what the fuck #what is this #what is happening #i don't know #what am i doing #send help #i do be simpin

[thoroughlymodernminutia]

This Christmas - Prequel

Pairing: Benny "Borracho" Magalon x F!Reader

Word count: 8,219

Summary: This is a prequel of sorts to this from last year. It’s basically the how Benny and the reader met, etc

Warnings: Mostly Hallmark-style fluffy stuff, lots of pining, but brief mention of loss, guilt, some foul language. If I missed anything else let me know and I'll add it in. 

A/N: I don’t know folks, I started writing this and was really chugging along and had a whole plan for how I wanted this to be. Then I got sick with everyone’s favorite illness from 2020 and lost a lot steam. I found, I think, a happy compromise with myself because I wanted to post this before Christmas (self imposed deadlines am I right?) and realized I can always I don’t know, post more parts of it later?? I am my own worst critic so if you read this and it isn’t your jam, please don’t say anything lol I’ve probably already thought it, so it would be redundant! Also, clearly, I do not know the proper use of a semicolon, or an em dash and I don't have an editor, so we'll all just have to deal. Anyways, Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, all that jazz

-----------

It’s a little after six in the morning and they still haven’t rolled in. Usually, the five of them would have been here for an hour already; a few hungover, one still drunk, and the fifth one acting like an adult babysitter for the other four. It’s weird how this happens–people come into your little donut shop and after a while, instead of you becoming part of their routine, they become part of yours. Eventually they start to feel like stand-ins for the friends you hardly ever get to see. You’re busy with your business and they’re busy with their jobs and families.

It could feel lonely, but you have people like Noreen, who comes in every Friday to buy three dozen assorted donuts for her team. Noreen is kind and not the type of person you envision working at a private equity firm. When you were thinking about expanding into the small space next door, she looked at your plan and helped you figure out where you were being too aggressive and in some cases too shortsighted. She didn’t ask for anything in return, but you made sure her next three dozen donuts were on the house. 

There’s Will, a retired teacher, who comes in every Sunday. He used to come in with his partner, Charles, and they would sit at the table you have set up near the front window. They traded off different sections of the newspaper while drinking their coffee and sharing one old-fashioned donut and one raspberry jelly donut; they never strayed from those. Charles passed away six months ago and it was unexpected. You didn’t expect to see Will for a while, but routine is hard to give up especially when it’s the only thing you have left. Every Sunday morning you set a 'reserved' sign on the table near the window. 

There’s Stuart, who hangs out in the plaza your shop is located in. You’re not sure if he’s unhoused or just likes to spend his day outside, but it felt strange to always see him and not interact with him. One day you invited him to come by for coffee and a donut but he turned you down. You told him the offer was good for any time and that you hoped you’d see him in there soon. He came in a few days later and it made you feel like you were doing some good; and then you felt bad for feeling like that. Stuart’s reserved and not much of a talker so you just let him sit at a table while you go about your work. Some days he’ll start a conversation; it’s rare but it feels like you both trust each other enough to make more than small talk. If you don’t see him in his usual spot outside, you worry. He usually turns up a few days later, but you're concerned that at some point he won’t turn up and what are you supposed to do then?

There’s a handful of people that fall into this category of if they never came back you would notice. It’s because some of them are smart and kind like Noreen. Some because they sit in the same spot, newspaper sections still divided in two, like Will. Some because their silence fills your little shop, like Stuart. And some whose absence you would notice because they don’t fit into these boxes. Sometimes they can be loud or irritating; but they can also be entertaining. And they’re are always five of them, but only one that makes you feel like you’re thirteen and just saw your middle school crush.

They started coming in sometime in February. You only remember because the biggest one said he’s 'not eating a fucking, prissy, heart-shaped donut.' Some men are like that, afraid if they come in contact with something feminine that’s not a woman, that their dick will fall off. He was loud and obnoxious and only one of the other four looked truly embarrassed for the guy and for himself. He apologized for his friend and ordered five large coffees and a dozen glazed donuts. 

“You sure glazed are going to be manly enough for your friend over there?” 

You ticked your head over towards the table where his friends were sitting. He laughed and it was a surprisingly warm laugh for a man with neck tattoos. 

“He won’t even remember being here, let alone what kind of donuts he ate.”

He sounded annoyed but used to the behavior. You remembered having friends like that, in your twenties, but you were well past that age and so were these guys by the look of it. You saw him eyeing an apple fritter so you grabbed it from the case, put it on a plate, and set it on the counter next to the box of donuts. 

“On the house, since it doesn’t look like you’re getting paid for your babysitting duties.”

He smiled, said thank you, and then went to sit with his loud friends. You noticed he was quiet in comparison and thought it would be nice if they were all quiet like that. 

When they were getting ready to leave you saw that the quiet one made sure all the trash was thrown away and all the dishes went into the right bin. At the door as they were leaving he gave you a small wave thanking you again. There was something about his smile that made it feel like flowers were blooming in your stomach. That feeling carried you for a week. You’d think of that moment of him at the door and a fog would enter your brain and the flowers in your stomach would grow larger. 

The feeling would start to subside after a while and you would get caught up in your real life–your business, the rare time with your friends, the occasional bad date. It would slowly drift from the front of your mind to the back. Then they would show up and the cycle would continue. 

The one who had the soft smile and neck tattoo, you learned his name was Benny. And that if you gave him a choice between the apple fritter and anything else, he would choose the apple fritter one hundred percent of the time. The loud drunk, that was Big Nick and he’s only been not drunk five percent of the time they’ve come in. There’s Connors, Zapata, and Henderson–you’ve only heard them referred to by their last names. A thing that you’ve only ever heard men do. They all come in once or twice a month–usually early, usually hungover. It makes you wonder what they do before they end up at your place. You never ask because to know would be to probably ruin your crush on Benny.

Benny always pays and there’s a part of you that hopes he’s doing it just for the chance to talk to you. When he leaves he always gives you a wave goodbye and a thanks again. The flowers in your stomach have bloomed and blossomed to an embarrassing degree by the end of May. And that’s when they stopped coming in. 

—-

Benny shakes his head no at Connor’s who’s trying to hand him a beer, “Not feeling it tonight.”

Benny isn’t feeling it any night, but he keeps that to himself. The drinking, the cocaine, the women, none of it interests him and it hasn’t for a while. Since February if he’s being honest with himself. 

They had ended up at your donut shop, Glazy for You under random circumstances. The usual place they would go to sober up after one of these parties had been closed down by the health department. He should have known it was bound to happen, the place was dim and oddly seedy for a diner. Benny was the designated driver that night, since he hadn’t been feeling well he didn’t drink and spent most of the night ushering random women out of a grim motel room. When he saw Glazy for You as he was driving by, it looked like the complete opposite of his evening; it was bright, there were Valentine’s decorations on the window. It looked comforting and warm, two things he felt like he was missing in his life.

Nick of course was an asshole and Benny felt like he spent a lot of time silently apologizing to you. His apologies must have entered you mind telepathically because you gave him an apple fritter–the best apple fritter he’s ever had in his whole fucking life. There must have been some kind of magic in because that moment lodged itself somewhere in his heart and reappears when he’s feeling low. Like now–sitting in this motel room, on this couch that probably hasn’t been cleaned in two decades, watching his friends lose their fucking minds over shit they should have outgrown. 

Benny hasn’t seen you in months, ninety-seven days to be exact, not that he’s counting. They’ve been working on one case after the next and it’s left time for little else. No post drug test parties, no early mornings sitting in a donut shop waiting for everyone to sober up, no you. It’s been sleep and work for three months straight. Last time he saw you, it seemed like you were happy to see him. Maybe he imagined that feeling; misunderstood the warmth in your smile. Maybe that’s the smile that you’ve practiced in order to be able to perform it for everyone. Maybe everyone feels what he feels when they see you.

Benny sinks further into the couch and looks up at the ceiling. It’s a drop ceiling which brings back memories of a case he had worked on. While securing a crime scene, they were in the living room of a run down apartment. It had this same type of ceiling and a body fell right through it onto the floor. He thinks that maybe this is how it ended up being called a drop ceiling, because shit just drops right out. That thought, that memory makes him realize that he doesn’t want to be in this room anymore. He gets up, grabs his jacket off the back of the couch, and leaves. He hears Connors call after him as he’s closing the door but he doesn’t care. He only has one place that he wants to be right now.

—-

You’re putting a tray of bear claws in the display case when you hear the door open. It’s still early, the sun is barely up, pink and purple hues are still in the sky. You get a lot of municipal workers that come in at this time, barely past opening. So it’s a little bit of a surprise when you get a glimpse through the display case of Benny walking in, alone.

There’s a second while you’re crouched down, adjusting the tray that you let yourself be excited; allow yourself to give into the childish feeling of getting a glimpse of your crush. Your knees are wobbly as you stand up–unsure if it’s because you’re getting old or because he’s looking right at you.

“Oh hey, how’ve you been?” You wipe your palms on the front of the apron you’re wearing. “It’s been a while.”

You try to sound neutral, neither excited to see him or disappointed that it's been so long. He smiles and that familiar sensation of flowers blooming returns. 

“We’ve been working on a lot of cases and it’s been hard to find time for anything else.” 

You lean forward and rest your arms on top of the bakery case. 

“Cases? You guys are lawyers?” As the words leave your mouth you realize how truly stupid it sounds. You’ve never in your life seen any lawyers that look like these guys. 

Benny chuckles and rubs the back of his neck, something he does when feels embarrassed or self conscious.

“No, definitely not lawyers. Detectives. We work for the Los Angeles Sheriff’s Department.”

You fail at suppressing a laugh, “I’m sorry. All of you are detectives? Even your friend Nick?”

Benny knows your laugh isn’t mean spirited and if he were you, he’d probably laugh too, knowing what he knows about the people he works with. He moves closer to display case and leans in. 

“Even Nick. You seem surprised.”

“It’s just. I.” You pause, trying to choose your words with care, because you like Benny and you don’t want to insult him, “I mean, it’s hard to imagine being a victim of a crime or something and like Nick is the person taking your statement, trying to help you. That is my nightmare.”

You hope you don’t sound like an asshole, but the idea of Nick serving and protecting seems like a stretch. If you offend Benny, he doesn’t show it, he just laughs.

“The way that you’ve seen him, I can understand the sentiment. He’s not like that a hundred percent of the time. I promise.” 

You give Benny a joking look, “Okay, but what percentage are we talking here?”

You’re both laughing when the rest of the guys walk in. The rowdiness is a shock to your system after not dealing with it for a while. You look at Benny and he’s no longer leaning in towards you and maybe you’re projecting, but you think he looks a little disappointed too.

Benny’s disappointed, but he tries his best to hide it. The guys may be drunk, but they are cops and they are perceptive. Benny already knows he has a reputation among them as being soft. It used to bother him, but it hasn’t for a while. He knows he would rather be soft than be the type of man that can’t feel anything other than bitterness and rage. 

“Borracho, you fucking asshole, you left us.”

Nick, is of course loud and slurring his words. Benny hopes you can’t understand Spanish–he doesn’t want to be known as a ‘drunk’ to you.

Benny turns from you to look at the guys. Connors is propping Nick up; Henderson and Zapata are stumbling towards a table. 

“I was hungry.”

Benny hopes it’s enough to shut Nick up. He knows it’s not because he sees Nick loosen himself from Connors and stumble towards him. He claps a large, drunk hand on Benny’s shoulder and the force almost knocks him backwards. 

“Fuck, Borracho. You’re no fun anymore.”

Nick is a mess and that’s not really that surprising to you. What is surprising is how uncomfortable Benny looks. He has the look of a man who would give anything to disappear. You can’t really blame him, these guys, Nick especially, are exhausting to be around and you only deal with them for a few hours a month.

“Can I get you guys something or are you just going to loiter?”

Benny looks towards you and you give him a sympathetic smile. He shakes Nick off of him and is about to order when Nick lurchers towards the counter that you’re standing behind. You step back as he unsuccessfully tries to paw at you.

“I know what you can get me, sweetheart.”

Benny groans and runs a hand over his face, “Jesus Christ, Nick. Shut the fuck up.”

You step closer to the counter and lean forward, putting a hand on Nick’s shoulder.

“What did I tell you about calling me ‘sweetheart’?”

Nick tilts his head to the side and mutters, “That the next time I do it, you’ll put my head in the deep fryer.”

You pat his shoulder, ���Good, you remember.”

You hear Zapata, Henderson, and Connors–who’s joined them at their table laughing and chanting do it, do it.

You gently push Nick away from the counter, “Go sit down unless you’re willing to see if I’m serious.” You look over at Benny, who no longer looks like he wants to disappear. “Benny, five coffees and a dozen glazed, right?”

Benny nods his head, “Yeah, that’s good.”

Nick turns around and starts walking towards where Connors, Zapata, and Henderson are sitting. He jerks his thumb back towards you, “She’s no fun either.”

Benny feels awkward standing here, watching you gingerly place twelve glazed donuts in a box and then pour five large coffees. It’s calming though, watching you do routine things, like you’re slowly rooting out the anxiety of being around drunk idiots. You put the coffees in a tray and place it down on the counter next to the donuts. 

Benny pulls out his wallet to pay, “Uh, sorry,” he pauses, he’s sorry about a lot suddenly, “sorry about Nick. He was acting like an asshole.”

You shrug and hand Benny his change, “Don’t worry about it.”

Benny is sitting with the guys and can’t help feeling like he’s messed something up. You didn’t give him an apple fritter like you normally do. He wonders if you’re mad that he didn’t do something more when Nick was acting like an asshole. Maybe he’s overthinking it–he can’t expect you to give him a free donut every time you see him. It’s possible he’s misread the situation entirely, that you’re just friendly and nothing more. He watches you behind the counter adjusting things, bagging up donuts for customers that have come in. When Benny checks his watch for the time, he misses seeing you slip an apple fritter in a bag and write 'Benny' in a tidy script. 

You watch the guys start filtering out of your place; Nick and Connors are first and from the store window you can see them getting into separate cabs. Benny is still throwing trash away as Henderson and Zapata leave. They share a cab and you imagine that maybe they rallied enough to start drinking again at 7:30am. You see Benny heading towards the door and it looks like he’s leaving without giving his usual wave goodbye. Your stomach sinks a little–maybe he’s mad at you for not joking around more with Nick or the other guys. Or it could just be that he’s tired and wants to go home and you’re creating feelings that aren’t there. 

You grab the bag with the apple fritter from below the counter and hold it up, “Hey, you forgot something.”

Benny looks at the bag with his name on it–it’s the nicest handwriting he’s ever seen. He walks over to the counter and takes the bag from your hand, your fingers overlapping for a fraction of a second. 

“So this means you’re not mad at me?”

“Why would I be mad at you? Wait, you think because of Nick?” You look at him strangely as he nods his head yes, “He’s the idiot, I’m not going to hold that against you.”

Benny smiles, “That’s good to know.” He starts walking away, but stops when he gets to the door, holding up the bag with the donut, “Thanks again. I’ll see you later.”

“Take care, Benny.”

—-

“You like that girl at the donut place?”

It sounds less like Connors is asking you a question and more like stating a fact. Benny’s a little caught off guard and pretends to start looking for something on his desk.

“What?” 

Benny tries to sound confused, like he’s never even heard the word donut before.

“At the donut place. The girl who runs it, are you into her or something? You always act fucking weird when we’re in there.”

Benny thinks back to all the times they’ve been at Glazy for You, trying to remember his behavior. Did he look at you for too long? Say ‘goodbye’ in a way that sounded like he didn’t want to leave. Benny opens the bottom drawer of his desk and pretends to look for something. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

Benny knows he doesn’t sound convincing and Connors must hear it too because he keeps going.

“Really?” Connors sounds incredulous. “You’re always lingering at the counter. She’s always giving you free donuts. Any of this ringing a bell for you?”

Benny can feel Connors staring at him. He closes the desk drawer and goes back to looking at the file on his desk.

“Maybe she likes giving away free donuts. I really couldn’t tell you.”

Connors crumbles a piece of paper into a ball and lobs it at Benny’s head, hitting him just behind the ear. 

“Whatever you say asshole.”

—-

The summer goes by quickly–it’s one of your busier seasons. School is out, the weather is nice–there are day camps, company off-sites, and sleepovers. All the types of occasions where the people in charge don’t want to make breakfast but need to provide it. Benny and the guys come in a few times throughout the summer. It feels a little different from before. Benny doesn’t linger at the counter as much anymore and sometimes one of the other guys pays. It’s stupid little things that you shouldn’t notice, but you do, because they used to be part of your routine. It’s embarrassing thinking you let this crush on Benny become such a big part of your life that you’d notice he didn’t pay last time or the time before that. It’s that embarrassment that makes you start building a wall around that garden in your stomach so the flowers can’t reach your heart.

It’s the end of October when you’re opening up one morning and it registers for you that you haven’t seen Stuart since some time around June or July. His absence gnaws at you. You feel like a bad person for not noticing sooner; that feeling that you failed someone even though they weren’t your responsibility. You don’t know what to do or if there’s anything you actually can do. So when you see Benny a few weeks later it feels like a little bit of a last resort when you ask for his help.

—-

You were hoping that Benny would be the person paying this time when they all came in, so you could mention Stuart without having to pull him aside. But he doesn’t and it makes you a little anxious trying to figure out the best way to talk to him about something serious. So it’s a relief when it looks like he’s going to be the last one to leave. He’s behind Connors and when Connors makes it out the door, you stop Benny who’s close behind.

“Benny, hey. Do you have a second?”

You come out from behind the counter, nervously smoothing the apron tied around your waist in short downward strokes. Benny stops and lets the door go from his hand. You look upset and he hopes it’s not because he’s been acting standoffish lately. Ever since Connors asked about you, he’s been trying his best to act normal–whatever that means–around you. 

“Did Connors’s card get declined again?”

You let out a small laugh, “No. Um, I was actually wondering if you could help me with something.”

Benny steps a little closer to you. You have some powdered sugar on your cheek and he has to stop himself from brushing it off. 

“Yeah, of course. What’s going on?”

“This is probably going to sound weird, or stupid. Maybe both. But there’s this  guy who h—”

Benny cuts you off; his voice is a little rougher, “If someone is bothering you, I’ll take care of it.”

You laugh awkwardly, “Oh no, it’s nothing like that. It’s this guy, Stuart. He usually hangs out around here and I have him come in sometimes for coffee or donuts and I haven’t seen him in…since maybe July, I think? I’m just a little worried.” You pause and try to read Benny’s face to see what he’s thinking, “Sorry, this probably sounds stupid to you. I don’t even know what I’m asking.”

Benny scratches his jaw piecing together what he thinks you’re getting at, “Do you know his last name?”

You notice that Benny’s voice has gone back to the soft tone that you’re used to. He’s looking at you with compassion and not like you’re stupid or some kind of burden. Benny is the kind of person that you would want helping you in a crisis and it makes you wish there were more people like him in his line of work.

“I don’t, but I printed a photo from the security camera I have.” You walk over to the counter and lean over, grabbing the photo from under the register. “I don’t even know if you can do anything with that. I watch a lot of crime shows. Don’t judge me.”

Benny laughs and shakes his head as you hand him the photo.

“I don’t want to get your hopes up, but I’ll see what I can find out.”

“Yeah of course. It’s…I don’t know. I’d feel like a bad person if something were to happen to him and I could have helped.”

Benny feels bad because he knows how these things generally end up. Usually there are no happy endings.

“You can’t put that on yourself.”

You nod your head, “I know, but still, you know?”

Benny understands the feeling and also understands it’s easier to tell someone something isn’t their fault than to know it yourself. 

As Benny leaves you start to feel a bit lighter. Like someone has taken some of your worry, some of your concern and is carrying it for you; so you aren’t so weighed down.

—-

“What was that about?”

Benny is surprised to see Connors waiting for him in the parking lot. 

“Nothing. Well, I guess there’s some guy, homeless, I don’t know. He usually hangs out around here. She hasn’t seen him for a while. She’s worried.”

Connors flicks a cigarette on to the pavement, “Figures she’s one of those bleeding heart types. What did you tell her?”

Benny pats his jacket and then his pants pockets feeling around for a pack of cigarettes, forgetting briefly that he’s trying to quit. Connors pulls his pack from his pocket and tosses them to Benny.

Benny pulls a cigarette out, “I told her I’d look into it.”

Connors laughs and hands Benny a lighter, “Chump.” He waits a beat for Benny to light his cigarette, “But, if you want. We can start looking into it now.”

Benny’s grateful it’s Connors out here and not one of the other guys. Benny and Connors go back further than just Major Crimes and he’s someone Benny would trust with his life.

—-

Benny’s worried that he’s going to have to deliver you bad news. Best case scenario seems like Stuart is in jail. Not great, but it would mean that he’s alive. Worst case scenario is that he can’t find Stuart and that usually doesn’t mean anything good. Benny is suddenly hoping for some kind of miracle for a person he doesn’t even know. 

The photo you gave him does turn out to be useful. Connors is able to find him in the system through facial recognition. Stuart Morton has a record; a few arrests for driving while under the influence and some time in a county jail. Benny is able to get a last known address but it’s over a year old. It’s a sober living house that’s not actually that far from Glazy for You. He doesn’t have much hope that going there will bring him any closer to finding Stuart. 

It takes a couple of weeks, but Benny is finally able to meet with David, the director of the sober living facility. He finds it’s better to meet with people in person. Talking with people over the phone, he’s learned, makes it easier for them to not give you the information you need. David of course is a little guarded at first with Benny; not wanting to share anything that could get Stuart in trouble, which Benny can’t really fault him for. Benny explains the situation, that the owner of a donut shop near here is worried because they haven’t seen him in a while. When Benny mentions your name to David, he lights up.

“Her glazed old fashioneds are the best ones in this entire state.” He pauses and to Benny it looks like he’s getting lost in the memory of a donut, a feeling he knows well. 

“I didn’t realize you two knew each other.” 

David turns away from Benny to look through a drawer in a filing cabinet, “Just this year we got to talking and she’s been generous enough to donate breakfast here every month. And recently she’s been working with us on a job training program at her bakery.” 

Benny thinks back to Connors calling you a ‘bleeding heart’ and is glad he came here by himself. 

“She didn’t mention anything about knowing Stuart lived here.”

David pulls a folder from the cabinet and thumbs through it, “Stuart is the type to not overshare, so that doesn’t surprise me.” He pauses to write something down on a piece of paper and hands it to Benny, “Here. This is his sister Noreen’s information. When he left, he was going to be staying with her for a while. Might still be there.”

Benny barely makes it to his car before calling the number that David gave him. 

—-

“Wait, so you’re saying that Noreen, the Noreen that comes in here, is Stuart’s sister?”

It’s late in the day, near the time that you close up. You and Benny are sitting across from each other at the table near the window. It’s hard to believe what he’s telling you, that Stuart used to be a resident at the sober living facility, the one where David works; that Noreen is Stuart’s sister and somehow all these dots never got connected for you.

“She didn’t realize that you two were,” Benny pauses looking for the right word, “friends. She feels terrible that you didn’t know he had moved out of the state and were worried. She said he’s doing well.”

You’re quiet for a moment, trying to take in everything Benny has been telling  you. It’s a lot to process, considering you had been preparing yourself to hear bad news. You can feel your eyes fuzzy with a few tears and feel a little embarrassed to be getting so emotional over the good news.

“It’s such a relief to know that he’s doing okay.” You feel a tear slide down your cheek and quickly brush it away hoping that Benny didn’t see it.

Benny can tell you’re trying to keep yourself from crying and he wants to tell you that it’s okay, that there wouldn’t be any judgment from him. He has the overwhelming urge to wrap his arms around you, but he knows it would be wildly inappropriate. He feels awkward sitting here, looking around, trying to figure out what he should say.

“I like the Christmas decorations you have up.” It’s lame and he knows it, but it seems better than freaking you out with a hug. You smile at him and that feels reassuring.

“You do?” You look over at Benny, nodding his head, “I know it makes me basic, but I love Christmas. The lights, the decorations, the movies, the music. Expect to see a lot of green and red frosted donuts until December 31st.” 

Benny laughs, “I’m looking forward to it.” He looks at his watch and starts to get up, “I should probably leave, so you can close up.”

You get up and follow Benny to the door, you put your hand on Benny’s forearm to stop him for a second and he feels a little spark through this jacket.

“Thank you, again, for everything.”

“I’m glad I could help. And that everything turned out okay.”

You’re not sure what it is that compels you to hug him, but you do. Maybe it’s the gentleness of his voice, or how he’s looking at you in a way he hasn’t before. It feels intimate and dreamy and it’s hard for you to recall the last time anyone has looked at you like that. It happens so fast that Benny barely has time to register what happened.

It hits him as he’s walking to his car–the delayed feeling of your arms around him. It strikes Benny that maybe there’s a chance you like him, that maybe you’re both kind of stupid and clumsy, and afraid to ask the other one out. There’s the realization that one of you will have to make the first move or it will go on like this forever. That he will see you every few months at your job, that he’ll get a free donut occasionally. It’s not enough for Benny and he knows that he can’t be stupid about this much longer.

—-

It’s the last piss test party of the year–the week before Christmas. The concept is idiotic–sure it made sense at one point when Benny wasn’t wading into the deep end of forty. Going to a cheap hotel to get drunk and high, have sex with women that Nick found God knows where. It was never appealing to Benny but he used to understand the idea of celebrating after your mandatory drug test. Now he usually just sits, drinks a beer or two, and tries to avoid contact with everyone. There’s something especially depressing about it during this time of year.

Benny’s spent the last few days mulling over the best way to ask you out. He regrets not asking you when he was giving you the news about Stuart. Although there’s a part of him that thinks maybe you would have felt obligated to say yes given the circumstances. He thinks about asking you tonight, if they end up there, but he doesn’t want to do it in front of the guys because you might feel obligated then too, maybe even feeling sorry for him and not wanting to embarrass him in front of everyone by saying no. If you say yes, he wants it to be because you actually mean it, he doesn’t want there to be any room for doubt.

His decision is made for him, because when they get to Glazy for You, you aren’t there. Benny can’t remember if there’s ever been a time when you haven’t been there, behind the counter, greeting him warmly. It’s a little bit of a shock to his system to see a middle-aged man in a goofy Christmas sweater in your place. Benny’s good at thinking up doomsday scenarios and imagines one in which you’re trying to avoid him, so you no longer work this early in the morning. But then he thinks of when you hugged him and that even though it was quick, it was like your touch had gone directly to his heart. He doesn’t stay much longer, opting to go home, lay in his bed, and try to figure out what he’s going to do.

—- 

You used to hate working during the holidays. Maybe it’s because you were working for other people and not yourself. Maybe it was because the work you were doing felt unimportant and people expected you to care even when everything else around you was winding down. Five years ago the thought of working on Christmas Eve would have made you want to walk into traffic. Now it feels different, like maybe you’re contributing to the holiday experience versus missing out on it entirely. You’ve always loved Christmas, but Christmas Eve is your favorite day of the year. It just feels more special somehow. There’s anticipation and excitement in the air. It’s possible it’s a product of all the Christmas movies you’ve watched over the years where there’s the idea that anything seems possible on this day. There’s something about the idea of your life changing for the better, surrounded by twinkle lights and ornaments that you find very appealing.

The morning is kind of slow–you spend most of it watching holiday episodes of tv shows on your phone. Around 11am you start cleaning up–taking trays out of cases, boxing up the donuts that are left to drop off at the comic book shop next door. You’re looking forward to going home and laying on the couch the rest of the day, queuing up your standard Christmas Eve movies. You’re ready to watch Scrooged and feel abnormally homesick, but then put on Christmas Vacation and remember why it’s never a good idea to spend Christmas with your entire family.

You’re in the back when you hear the bell on the door jingle, letting you know someone is out front. You consider just staying where you are, pretending no one is here so you can wrap up your day. You don’t want to have to tell anyone that you can’t help them with their donut emergency–getting yelled at on Christmas Eve is not something you’ve prepared yourself for today. So it’s a pleasant surprise when you make your way back out to the front and you see Benny.

“Hey, this is a—hi.” You’re not sure why you’re suddenly unable to put together a decent sentence.

Benny rubs the back of his neck with his hand, “Is this a bad time?”

“No. No, well. I mean, unless you were looking for a few dozen donuts. Then it definitely is.”

Benny smiles, “Actually,  I, um, was,” he pauses and tries to collect himself, he can suddenly feel his heart beating in his ears, “I wanted to ask you out. On a date.” The feeling has spread to his skull.

When he says it, it’s almost like the words traveled through your brain and you can’t comprehend what’s actually happening. Benny, the guy you’ve been harboring your fragile middle school crush on, is here asking you out. It makes little, if any sense to you.

“Are you just trying to get more free donuts?”

Benny shakes his head no, “I promise I’m not.”

You’re quiet as you consider what he’s asked–trying to reprocess the information in your mind so that it makes sense. When all the words are finally in place and you repeat them in your mind, you feel some of those flowers that you’d walled up in your stomach starting to push through the cracks.

“Yeah, okay.” You grab a business card from the counter, write your number on the back, and hand it to Benny.

Benny’s not sure he’s ever heard anything better than yeah, okay in his life, it’s like a bolt of lightning right to his core. He puts the card with your number in the chest pocket of his jacket, the safest place he can think of.

“Great. Amazing.” Benny laughs nervously. “I need to get back to work. I’ll text you.” 

“Okay. Well, have a good Christmas, Benny.” 

“You too.” 

Benny gives his standard small wave as he leaves and you lock the door after him. When he’s out of sight you let out a squeal and excitedly dance in place. Your phone vibrating in your back pocket interrupts you mid-happy dance. 

Hey, it’s Benny. Are you free for dinner on the 27th at 7?

Benny watches dots appear and then disappear on his phone. It feels a little bit like torture as he sits in his truck waiting for you to respond.

 Dinner on the 27th at 7 sounds great

Benny releases a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, Let me think of a place and I’ll text you the address

Sounds good. And you meant Dec 27th right?

Benny laughs to himself, Yes dec 27. I’m not going to wait until jan to take you to dinner

Just making sure 🙂

You read his last text at least ten more times before finally going back into the kitchen like you had intended. Each time you read it, there’s a sensation in your stomach like bricks dissolving and flowers blooming again.

—-

Benny texts you on the morning of the 26th with a restaurant name and an address. You already have the sense that he’s different, the type of person who has follow-through. You try to temper your excitement about dinner with him, not wanting to do that thing you sometimes do where you make something out to be more than it is. You keep telling yourself that it’s just dinner, nothing more. But as you pull up to the restaurant a few minutes late and see Benny standing outside, looking nervous in dark denim and a green flannel, you let yourself think that maybe it could be a little more than just dinner. 

“Sorry I’m a little late, I hope you weren’t waiting long?”

Benny smiles when he sees you standing in front of him, “I just got here a few minutes ago.” 

It’s a lie; the last one he’ll tell tonight; but he doesn’t want you to know that he was so amped up about this evening that he got to the restaurant thirty minutes early. On the way in, when you pass in front of him, your perfume delicately floats by him. It’s earthy, but slightly sweet, with cinnamon and vanilla blending neatly in–he’s sure it’s the most beautiful thing that he’s ever smelled. 

It’s a French restaurant, one that you’ve never been to before, but it’s cozy and still in the Christmas spirit. There are multicolored lights strung up and silver tinsel hanging from the ceiling. 

“Have you been here before?” Looking at Benny from across the table and you can see flecks of silver in his facial hair catching the light of the candle on the table. 

“My sister and her husband had their tenth anniversary party here last year. Most of my restaurant choices come from wherever she has an anniversary party.” 

You laugh, “Nice. Do you just have the one sister?”

Benny has just the one sister, you learn, among other things. You find talking to Benny is easy, he doesn’t give one word answers to questions like some men you’ve gone out with. Where trying to get to know them is like trying to get to know a slab of pavement. He’s funnier than you thought, something that you didn’t expect, but is a nice surprise.

“Did you always want to be a detective?”

Benny butters a piece of bread, “To be honest, the only thing I wanted to be growing up was a magician. I guess I saw one too many David Copperfield specials as a kid.”

You start laughing, “Do you know any magic tricks?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know. What about you?”

“I don’t know any, no.” You shrug jokingly as Benny laughs. “But, yeah, I guess I’m doing what I’ve always wanted to be doing. I’m lucky that things have worked out how they have.” 

Benny’s curious now, “You didn’t always work in a bakery?”

“Nope. I actually used to work in tech. It’s kind of a long story.”

“Well, I’m not in any hurry to end the evening.”

There’s something about Benny that puts you at ease, that makes you comfortable enough to want to open up to him. Something that you would never normally consider doing on a first date. You don’t feel the need to downplay that you made a lot of money when a company you worked for in New York was bought out. He doesn’t flinch when you tell him that the reason you moved to California was because of your now ex-husband. He tells you about his own divorce and for the first time in a long time you don’t feel so unlike yourself on a first date. It doesn’t feel scary telling him that you felt insignificant in your own life because of your work and your marriage. That every conversation with your husband made you feel like a burden.There’s a moment when you start to apologize, out of habit, but he stops you. He smiles when you say that the divorce was the best thing to happen to you because it–and you hate to say it like this–gave you your power back. 

“I always wanted to own my own business and I love donuts, so when the divorce happened, I just said fuck it, and went for it. Just threw myself into it.”

“I’m glad you did, I don’t know where else I’d get an apple fritter that good. And for free.” 

“Yeah, about that.” You smile playfully, “I’m going to have to start charging you before you put me out of business.” 

Benny makes a show of looking at his watch, pretending to want to leave, “I guess we should probably call it an evening then?”

He likes the way you laugh, how it’s kind of loud and fills the room. It makes him feel good, to hear you laugh, to see you smile; like he’s responsible for some bit of happiness you’re experiencing.

“See, I knew this was a scam.”

As the waiter clears the table and they wait for the check, Benny asks you what your favorite donut is. 

You don’t even have to think about it, “Definitely a maple bar.”

Benny watches as your eyes light up, telling him how you first had one when you spent the summer between fifth and sixth grade visiting your aunt in Seattle. He listens to you describe how your mom was, in the nicest terms you can find, an extreme dieter, who tried her best to pass all of her food issues down to you, and never let donuts in the house. But your aunt didn’t care and the first thing she did once she would pick you up from the airport was take you to her favorite bakery. It was the highlight of every summer after that until you graduated high school. It was the first donut you learned how to make because on the east coast they’re hard to find. You laugh when you say the best part of moving to the west coast is that every donut place has maple bars, but you’d like to think that yours are the best. Benny can’t help but think it’s cute.

Benny doesn’t want the night to end; he knows that you took a cab to the restaurant so he offers to drive you home. You try not to sound too eager in accepting his offer, but fail.

“Yeah, I’d love that.”

You ask him if he wants you to put your address into google maps for directions, but he doesn’t need them. Benny spends so much time driving all over the city that he knows every street, every highway, every interstate. The map exists in his head; he can get anywhere without really having to think about it. Benny drives you through some unfamiliar, but beautiful neighborhoods. The homes are still decorated and lit up, it’s like driving through the set of a Christmas movie–the only thing missing is snow.

You ask him more about his job, the guys he works with. You like hearing the stories that Benny has about them. You can tell by the way he talks about him, that he’s closest with Connors. You finally learn everyone’s first names and how Benny got his nickname–which you had previously googled out of curiosity. You ask if it bothers him to be called a drunk.

“Knowing the shit they all get into, not really.”

He says that it doesn’t matter what they call him because he knows that in any situation they’ll have his back and he’ll have theirs. That’s what he cares about.

When he pulls up to your house; a small, one-story home, string lights along the frame and around the windows; it looks exactly like he’d imagined. You both sit quietly for a few minutes unsure what to do next. 

Eventually you unbuckle your seatbelt, “I had a really good time tonight, Benny.”

“Me too. Come on, I’ll walk you to your door.” he looks over at you, “protect and serve, you know.” Benny knows it’s a dumb joke, but you laugh anyway.

When you get to the top of your steps, you find it hard to say goodbye. His face is illuminated by the Christmas lights and you can tell he doesn’t want to say goodbye either. You start to say something, you’re not even sure what, but no words come out because Benny’s mouth is on yours, his hands gently cradling your face. His lips are soft and you can feel the warmth of his tongue asking for permission. You drop your keys onto the porch and pull him closer to you by his belt loops.

It feels like hours have passed when Benny finally pulls away, “Sorry. I’ve been wanting to do that for months.”

You rest your hands on his chest, “Next time,” you gently tug on his shirt collar, “don’t wait so long.”

Benny smiles as he watches you crouch down to pick up the keys you dropped. When you stand back up, he reaches towards your face, his fingers grazing behind your ear, “Hold on, you have something in your—” Benny sweeps his fingers against your hair and when he brings his hand in front of you, he’s holding a small, folded piece of paper. 

You take it from him, unfolding it. When you see the words ‘what are you doing for new years?’ written down you start grinning, “So you do still know some magic tricks.”

Benny places his hand on your neck, his thumb stroking your cheek, “A few.”

#benny magalon x reader #benny magalon x f!reader #benny borracho magalon x reader #benny borracho magalon x f!reader #borracho magalon x reader #den of thieves fic #christmas fic #holiday fic #this christmas fic

[androgynousblackbox]

Welcome to Hazbin Vale. 5 [Appleradio, Radioapple]

"Good day to all our loyal listeners. You are all the very blood and vein of this beautiful community we have established here. Our one true home wouldn't be complete without each and everyone of you tuning in each day to share

As you all know, the community center has been closed for some time now for reason that aren't worth getting into right now. Despite the warning signs outside, the building has become a center of reunion for youngster looking to pass a good time. Normally that wouldn't be an issue at all, but in the next few days a renovation is going to take place there and all the space will be neccesary.

Especially the basement. Especially at night. And definitely, absolutely, at 3 AM. Do not come near it. Ignore any voices you could hear. Just go home and don't look back. Make sure all the windows are close tight, even the one on the library in the second floor.

If any of our younger listeners left anything there, this is the time to go pick it up.

Now.

Don't pay any attention to the workers that are doing their best to bring back this town it's former glory. They aren't interested in you, so don't give them a reason to. They are just tidying up the place. If you don't seem them moving anything out of the place or cleaning up, that's not for you to worry about.

If any of you want a potentially dangerous place of reunion, there is a lovely cave on the outkirts of the town that will serve just fine. I heard the risk of suffering a cave in is still very much present. That outght to cause some form of excitement, I imagine. I wouldn't know. My idea of fun is a little more involved than that.

But yes, the community center is officially off limits now. Technically the cave I just mentioned is too, but what is life if not breaking a few rules in a whim? I promise I won't tell a word if you don't.

Speaking of those who can't say a word! Unfortunately for today I have no deaths to report. I know, very dissapointing indeed, but sometimes it happens.

The only thing on the obituary is just an old woman who died in the hospital after battling neumonia for a week. Service is Saturday, yes, yes, very sad, very painful, so tragic, you all know the drill. A completely normal and unremarkable death that I feel sleepy just by thinking of it. Nobody wants to hear about that, do you? Be nice with the widow though. He makes a killer jambalaya.

No, that is not a pun, you cheeky little listeners. Just a sincere form of appreciation. I would give you more of those more often if I had a reason to.

As for those of us who are still breathing, ha, get it?, everyone else just spend a lovely night yesterday, safe and comfortable on their beds, contemplating nice memories of events passed merely hours ago. Sometimes even death just likes to take a break. Not everything fun and entertaining has to be so… final. New starts also have their own appeal.

For the oldest listeners, the Jazz club near the supermarket is still very much open and happy to receive new people in for when the night is still young.

My good friend Mimzy has especially requested for me to inform you that Friday nights are a two for one especial. She informed of such just yesterday when I was there with some company.

Who was that company, you ask? Since when are you so intrusive, dear listener? You all should know by now that a true gentleman would never just tell so quickly.

Although, I want to make it clear that they didn't tell me not to say. I even asked and they said they don't mind.

I just can't resist causing you a little bit of pain whenever I can, dear listener. I will only talk when and if I want to. Thank you for understanding.

Oh, but what I am saying? We were about the jazz club. Well, I will admit it had been a long while since the last time I entered that place. I could hear the music just fine from my own livingroom, so why I would spend the effort of dressing up, putting on cologne, shaving, brushing up and all that work just to be surrounded by the same people I already know and can talk about everyday? It doesn't seem worth it.

Oh, Mimzy, dear, I can feel you frowning from here. Please don't take any offense to that. You know I never had your same kind of flame to keep up that lifestyle every night without fault. I am just a boring old man at my thirties that can't compare with your youthful disposition. Maybe ten years ago I could come close to, but not now. I need to save up my energy for that.

Last night I just happened to find a new charge. Mimzy told me that she got a bunch of new music and there was even a live band there. I am afraid I can only trust on her word for that because I don't remember a single thing about that once I was on my table.

I knew there was music and it wasn't grating on my brain making me wish I was deaf, but I couldn't tell you from my experience more than that. I also know there was a stage but I have no idea if someone was there.

Something else must have kept me distracted. Wonder what could have been, mmm?

The food was amazing, that I can promise you. Mimzy hired a new cook a few days ago that knew exactly to give it that spice that turns out as such a nice surprise as soon you really bite into it. The wine, well, I didn't take that much but I thought it went rather well.

For some reason I do remember that one detail extraordinarly well. Down to the label on the bottle and the thick glass landing against the wood of the table. The way it swayed inside of the glass and went down behind lips lightly tinted red, as if flushed after receiving a good bite.

What a delicious meal that was.

I don't think I have tasted something as delicious in years.

My personal rating, that is completely unbiased and therefore objectively true: 10 out of 10. I would love to do it again.

For a certain someone that I know is working very hard right now, and keeping the radio right nex to their desk filled with papers, design plans and sketches, that is the answer to your question last night.

But!

Um, but you don't go to a place like that just to ignore whatever live band that may or may not being there in the first place just to eat. It's a club, not a restaurant, dear listener. So even though you may bring your own entertainment while enjoying the food, that is not supposed to be the only reason you are there.

After that wonderful dinner, I got to try again the renewed wood floors for a few pieces. Don't ever let anyone tell you that our dear Mimzy still doesn't have the energy of a girl on her 20s. She would keep up with whatever move I was making like she had read the manual front and back without missing a bit.

That is what being an old member of this community means, of course. You get to know each other. You know what to expect, most of the time at least. So when you dance with someone for the first time, it's only to be expected to be a little bit awkward at first and step on a few toes. There is no shame on that. No need to apologize so much.

It just means that we have to keep dancing until we manage to find the right rythm.

Once you figure that one out, it will be as easy as if we had danced a million of times before across multiple lifetimes. As if our feet were connected to the same brain and we didn't had to think at all. Thank goodness that it was a slow song. It's okay to get closer so we are sure of what we are doing. Your own cologne doesn't bother me at all.

It does make you wonder, though, how someone that does so many things with their hands can have them so soft. What secrets are hiding even as you look into each other eyes and sway together like the wine on that glass?

Would you want to find out? Or it would make you ran away?

The moon was shinning so bright last night. Maybe even death had to stop it's feeding and admire it for a bit.

A long walk at night is good for the soul, or so they say. You can't leave your dance partner to go on their own. There are raccoons out there, silly. And they get too creative if given a good enough excuse. But don't worry, I have a feeling they won't bother us for now.

Reaching a renewed building I have only seen in a picture and a doorframe that remained open for one last good night. Ignore the fact that we said goodnight at least three times before.

Good night.

Good night.

Good night.

Maybe just one more for good measure.

Someone that was waking up from their nap was demanding attention. Babysitters needed to be driven back home. That is why I couldn't stay. I understand.

I hope you all had sweet dreams last night.

And don't ask me where that music is coming from. I have no idea what to tell you.

Wait, what I was on about? I forgot.

Well, I am sure it will come back to me. Or I could go look for it again later. Maybe this afternoon? At the Chocolate Boutique? I will be there regardless if someone wanted to talk.

Tomorrow is going to be another day, dear listener. Let's embrace each day as they come.

Oh, and stay away from the community center if you want to do just that.

Now, the weather…"

[https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BMv3a7Kx3eQ the song of the background]

#radioapple #appleradio #duckiedeer #lucifer x alastor #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel au

[magical-awesome-kid]

DP x DC AU.

Danny Phantom has been the King of the Infinite Realms, a halfa, and hero for thousands of years now. He, by all accounts, is considered a god or Eldrich abomination (or both), which means his power levels are par to few/none. Under his reign, his planet Earth found massive peace (religious wars were stopped simply by asking people there, pre-meditated murder went out the window when the risk of them coming back as a ghost was very real, and Fenton Technologies compounded with Ghost Zone technologies had completely changed the course of human evolution).

Danny learned how to rule and does so well. He does it so well that the afterlife basically runs itself now. Sure, disputes still happen, fights still break out, but they're small affairs compared to how things used to be. As the King of the Zone, his mere presence has healed much of the cracks and fissures that had occurred under Pariah, and, even in a place where death and life mix as well as his own DNA mixes with Ectoplasm, where one minute there's a sudden influx of the dead just as a new species is born from the mythos of old, it's quite a content place to be. With the dimension's growth, so, too, has Danny, now looking like a man in his thirties, lean and strong but comforting all the same (he can never quite die due to his halfa status, but he stopped aging normally around the time he turned thirty-three - he now can appear however old or young he feels, and, after his family passed, he reverted back to his younger man days, which he felt was when things seemed to settle around him).

But, well... Danny is bored as hell.

Now, he's been looking to stretch his legs in the land of the living again. He's been a Zone Body for nearly 2500 years now, only making trips to his own dimension when called upon for input and to sit in on galactic meetings, but, even then, he's got tons of people who can stand in for him. Danielle, appearing as a late-twenties, early-thirties woman usually going by Ellie or El these days, is considered the Princess of the Realms and leads up exploration teams on different dimensions that have either pinched off from the realms, forming fully-living or fully-dead places, and better charting the healing process and anything they need to step in personally (while considered the 'land of the dead,' the Infinite Realms is more akin to a purgatory, connecting, well, infinite dimensions where life and death exist more exclusively, acting as a bridge, a binding agent, between time and space).

Danny decides to appoint his top advisors (largely still Sam, Tucker, and Jazz, who have become ghosts and, as royal appointees, have access to all afterlifes and free pass to go and come as they please, as well as some trusted long-time allies like Clockwork and Pandora) to keep eyes on everything for him while he takes a 'short scouting mission' with Danielle (i.e. maybe take a break).

Ellie and Danny head off to the next dimension on the list, and, as soon as they hit the ground running, it's immediately clear that this one is filled with issues.

While the general rule is that they don't meddle in dimensional affairs, this dimension, right off the bat, REEKS of stale Ectoplasm. Like it's been broken off and re-attached incorrectly to the Infinite Realms, and thus the normal flow of ectoplasm has stalled. This can cause a lot of complications, especially for people who come into contact with said ectoplasm. It's also a dimension of heroes and villains, which immediately kicks Danny's protective instincts into high gear.

Ellie manages to keep them on track... until they find out about a clone who's been treated horribly by both of his 'parents' even though he's done nothing wrong.

Then... yeah. She doesn't mind staying a little longer.

So yeah, they may be meddling, but this dimension needs help! They swear!

(The Justice League doesn't know what's about to hit them when two new, absolute power houses come on scene, one instantly going out of their way to adopt Young Justice, but mostly Superboy, while the other starts spearheading global unification in the most convoluted of ways. Well, except Constantine, who takes one look at the two heroes, INSTANTLY recognizes them, and nopes the fuck out. He's heard stories of the Ghost King and Ghost Princess, and, while pillars of goodness and justice, they are also known to be absolute hellions, and he's dealt with actual hell creatures).

#dp x dc #danny phantom #detective comics #justice league #young justice #Danielle is just going to adopt all the clones #She's been there done that and has a great mentor to show off #Danny is going to kick some ass #Mostly the religious fanatic kind #'Shut UP about who's god is real! They all exist and they all are pains in my ass. Work it out like adults' #Yes Danny is the boss of all existence basically #As pointed out in the show #Disconnecting from the ghost zone is a VERY bad thing

[starlight-eclipsed]

DP X Pokémon Crossover AU

Because I lack restraint. (Dark version + AU details under cut)

1. Drs. Fenton are still very anti-ghost, only in this world they argue that as dead people they should not count as Pokémon. They are especially vocal about children having Ghost-types (comparing it to grooming/they want to steal your kids away, which is not helped by certain Pokédex descriptions), which is a perspective that gains traction in some areas. 2. As you can imagine, this does not make them liked in most circles.

3. Despite that, they travel all over the globe to spread their message and research sites with a particularly dense Ghost-type population.

4. The GIW are similar to Team Galactic in this AU. They're more intense than the Fentons and automatically class all Ghost-types as threats. Everyone knows they're bad news, but they're a well established organization and nobody can really go against them legally.

5. The Fentons are invited to the Alola region by the Aether Foundation, as they're currently invested in portals-ghosts-ultra beasts-ultra space and those fields are suspected to have a lot of overlap.

6. Jazz had spilt from the family when she was younger to go on her Pokémon journey when she was 13, having originally stayed back to look after Danny. She encountered a hurt Munna when they were in the Unova region, who would become her starter Pokémon.

7. She starts to realize just how wrong her parents were when she starts fighting Team Plasma alongside two kids her brother's age, but that's a different story. A part of her wishes she'd insisted on Danny starting his journey with her--she thinks he would've liked Sam and Tucker.

8. Danny is pretty disillusioned to the thought of a Pokémon journey by the time he's 14 and his parents still haven't let him strike out alone.

9. He does have a Staryu he befriended a couple regions ago. But considering his family's affinity for Psychic-types he was essentially told he couldn't go off alone until Staryu evolved into Starmie (a Water and Psychic-type). However he can't really train with his parents' supervision when they're always busy, so he's effectively stuck.

10. One day in Alola, he spots a wild Minior. His brain essentially goes 'hey look another star-themed little space guy', and he sneaks away from his parents to go see if he can catch it.

11. Water-type Staryu is super effective against Rock and Flying-type Minior, and he gets his second Pokémon!

12. He stops by his parents' lab to tell them the news, but is quickly distracted by a strange Pokémon being kept in a ring-like passage in the wall. He enters when he hears its cries.

13. No matter the dimension, the Fentons have a tendency to put switches on the inside.

14. Young Danny Fenton woke up on the shore of one of Alola's main islands, clutching a little Cosmog in his arms. The little space guy roster has expanded.

15. With some assistance from the local professor, Danny returns to the apartment, electing to hide Cosmog as he tries to figure out what to do. And then Ultra Wormholes start opening all over the region.

16. Good news! Thanks to whatever happened with Ozzy (He can't exactly call them Cosmog in fear of being overheard), he can now sense when a wormhole opens. Ozzy can even teleport them there and back.

17. Bad news! His parents and every researcher in the area wants to catch and study the beings that get dragged through and start causing havoc.

18. Which would be bad enough without the revelation that Danny can now understand what certain Pokémon are saying (Ghost-types or otherwise space-related).

19. On the plus side, his parents were insistent that he start his journey as a Pokémon trainer so that he can defend himself should these 'Ultra Beasts' attack. Due to some confusion in which they ask the local Pokémon Professor to help him start his journey, he also gets to pick a starter Pokémon despite already having some.

20. He initially goes for Rowlet because they're nocturnal, stealthy, can fly, and he could use a Grass-type on his team. The professor is hesitant to let the son of two very anti-ghost scientists to have a starter that gains a Ghost-type in its final evolution (especially right after the debacle in which he gave them a Rotom Dex and they proceeded to chase it out of the device and into the wild), and warns Danny.

21. Danny is thrilled. One day he'll be able to fully talk with his new buddy! It isn't until he's already gone home that he realizes what the professor was trying to warn him of. Thankfully his parents aren't native to the area, so when they scan Rowlet and hear 'Grass-Flying', they don't expect that to change.

22. He meets Rotom shortly afterwards--the one that was in the Alolan Pokédex given to his parents. It was emotionally attached to its old shell, but is scared of being seen taking it back.

23. Danny switches out the Rotom Dex for a standard regional one, which his parents are more than happy to use knowing it hasn't been 'possessed'. The Rotom in question decides to stay with him, randomly taking over various electronics to help Danny out and occasionally battling alonside him.

24. (Danny is both happy to have a new partner and upset that a Pokémon normally characterized by being a trickster is so insistent on proving it's useful and staying out of the way. Cue him and the others helping Rotom play pranks and showing that it's okay to act out sometimes.)

25. Insert brief adventure involving falling into a wormhole, crashing into Hisui, accidentally befriending a weird looking Zorua, and meeting the masters of time (Dialga/Clockwork) and space (he instantly recognizes Palkia--it's the embodiment of space!) to catch a ride back home.

26. The Zorua sneaks back home with him, joining as the sixth member of his team. Danny does some research on the history of Zorua, and discovers that there was a half-Normal half-Ghost strain of them that lived in ancient Sinnoh.

27. By the time he's fifteen, he realizes that with half his team being Ghost-type (that is, when Rowlet fully evolves) and having to hide both Ozzy and his own powers all the time, it's really not a good idea to stick around his parents anymore. What if he loses track of one of his friends, and his parents find them first? And that's completely ignoring the distance that's formed as Danny started helping out the local Ghost-types and hearing all the awful things the Fentons have done.

28. So he packs his stuff, takes a Fenton Thermos (a version of the mobile box storage used in the Galar region, invented by his parents and actually made functional when he and Rotom messed with it. Danny isn't risking catching a seventh Pokémon and them being sent directly to his parents, so he sets up his own account and isolates it to the Thermos), and leaves five years late for his Pokémon while his parents are visiting Aether Foundation's main research base.

29. Cue various shenanigans as Danny and his team travel through dimensions to keep the peace between Ultra Beasts and the rest of reality. Somewhere along the line he starts literally fighting alongside his Pokémon, possibly unlocking more powers. This teenager has no hesitation and will punch a god if given the chance.

30. (His Pokémon were thrilled, thinking it was about time their trainer starts learning some moves. Rotom is the only one distressed by the implications when Danny uses Shadow Ball.)

31. Jazz hears from her parents for the first time in years when they call her panicking about Danny disappearing. She connects some dots from her last call with him and figures he must've finally snapped and ran away to journey with his Pokémon.

32. Danny proceeds to get the most confusing message in his life from Jazz as he's restocking on supplies in a Pokémart somewhere in Kalos. Why was she congratulating him and offering him a couch in a Unovan professor's lab if he's ever in the area?

33. In completely unrelated news, people start recognizing a mysterious trainer that commits acts of vigilantism and speaks in favor of Ghost-types and Ultra Beasts all over the world, resolving conflict both peacefully and through battle. Some rumors say he's a Pokémon himself, a ghost with unfinished business. Others think he's an undercover ranger, finally losing patience with trying to stop bad people the legal way and resorting to direct action.

34. They're calling him Phantom, and his interference is attracting all kinds of attention.

35. Danny just wants everyone to be safe, and is more than happy to be traveling through space with his Pokémon by his side. Maybe one day he'll try a gym challenge or whatever trainers normally do, but for the time being he's more than happy to keep getting stronger while throwing down with various Pokémon across dimensions.

#danny phantom #pokemon crossover #my art

[indiaalphawhiskey]

If you feel inspired at all to write a snippet today, can you let me know what happened here?

What caused the dramatic music, the red tinted room, the dangerous smirk, the erotic tension, the nonchalant smoking?

Full video here.

As you wish, @awesomefringey! Also inspired by my earlier tags: #that is a baby #who has shotgunned from his mans #many a time

-----

Habit by indiaalphawhiskey

The room was dark; so dark that it was too hard to tell if the scarlet glow illuminating the sparse furniture really was light or a trick of the eye – its desperate attempt to see anything other than shadow.

Louis leaned forward, looking down his nose at the cigarette between his lips. And, as he cupped his hand over the tip, watching it come alive by the light of his match, he realized, hand to God, he couldn’t tell you what the color of the chaise he was sitting on was.

It made him chuckle a little, the fact that someone could hold a gun to his head right now, asking him to name the color of the coffee table, the carpet, the stage, and all he would be able to do was laugh and accept his inevitable fate. It wasn’t the interiors he came here for anyway.

He pulled the cigarette from his lips, held the smoke in his chest with practiced ease, and spared a thought to how much he hated being a cliche. Mr. Too-much-time, Too-much-money, Too-much-common-sense. 

Ironically though, not enough to keep him from this place. Not that anything could; not with what it held inside – with whom.

The thought made him raise the cigarette to his lips again, the drag he took sweet – full. 

“Nasty habit,” a voice taunted from behind him.

Louis’ smirk curled upward, slow and satisfied, and he took his time liberating the stream of smoke from his lips, before, “I’ve got a lot of those.”

“This one’s got a fine.”

“Paid it.”

The response was immediate – an unimpressed scoff. “Well, I guess that makes it alright.” Even wrapped in a reprimand, his voice was pretty; sweet and stinging in even parts, bitter like dark chocolate; warm like bourbon. Loaded, just like the sound of the heavy curtain swishing closed after him.

Louis listened for the familiar steps on the carpet, one… two… three… four. “Money makes everything alright,” he said back, unapologetic, over the muffled jazz playing in the other room. 

Another scoff before that perfect silhouette came into full view, hip cocked, one obscenely tempting stockinged leg kicked out, just for the hell of it. “Only for people with money.”

Even barely backlit by the red lights, Louis smiled, recognizing the outline of his favorite little number. It had cost him a pretty penny, that black trench coat, but he couldn’t bring himself to regret it. He liked seeing his baby all gussied up for him; liked the way it felt on his lap, trapped under the weight of those gorgeous thighs, loved sliding his hand up… up… up… into that tempting little gap to find lace, or silk, or… nothing at all…

Patience, Louis sang in his head, busying himself instead with dragging the heat of his gaze away from those godforsaken legs and up to twinkling green eyes, because that color – that, he could name, anytime.

Louis took another slow drag from his cigarette without taking his eyes off him. He reached out and caught the hem of the trench coat in his fingers, smirking up at the love of his life right before he tugged hard. 

The sweet waif of a thing tumbled straight into his lap.

“Lou—” he gasped out in soft protest, an errant giggle, and the way he had already wrapped his arms around Louis’ neck, dampening his feigned attempts to escape. Louis held him in place, hand solid – hot and high on that darling thigh. 

“You don’t want money,” Louis said seriously, into the sliver of space between them. Those green eyes sparkled mischievously, knowing that was the truth, even when Louis added, “I know. I know because I offered – offered you anything. Everything.”

And god in heaven, that smile – it would be the death of Louis one day; much, much sooner than the goddamn cigarettes.

“S’not true,” he pretended to pout. A beat, and then another coquettish little grin. “Haven’t offered me a drag,” he said, already reaching for the cig.

Louis bracketed his back with a strong arm to keep him from falling, all while he kept the cigarette out of reach. “Uh-uh.” Louis said, shaking his head. “Filthy habit, this.”

And that coy, devastating smile morphed into an amused giggle. “Aw, Daddy,” he cooed, the familiar pet name blowing softly on the embers already burning, low and heavy, in Louis’ belly, as he teased, “You protecting me or sumthin’?” He leaned in close then, so close each of his syllables skated over the skin of Louis’ lips as he whispered, all innocent doe eyes, and long lashes, and earnestness, “‘M a big girl. I can handle it.”

Louis pretended to consider it, humming thoughtfully as he leaned away. 

Carefully, he placed the cigarette in front of his own mouth and took a long, deep drag. 

He held the smoke behind his teeth, and watched as bright green eyes darkened, grew heavy and hooded with lust and understanding. Plush, plump, pink lips parted just enough for Louis to lean in, his mouth hovering. The pretty little thing in his lap squirmed desperately, his nails digging into the hair on the nape of Louis’ neck, and then…

Louis exhaled, slow, careful and controlled, sharing the warm wisps of smoke, his tongue desperate to follow them through to gates of heaven; twist and tangle and curl into that lovely, lovely mouth.

“Ngh.” It was a soft whine, delicious; a whine of hunger, of more, of please, Daddy.

Yes, Louis had a lot of nasty habits. But this one… Harry… 

Harry was his favourite.

#iaw ask #iaw drabble #noir drabble #habit drabble

[vanillaxoshi]

Analysis part 2! (This is a long one)

Glad to hear i was correct on somethings, now on to the actual scary days

'Cahaya was fighting his mind and delusional'

Now these two sentences could be unrelated but for now lets assume that they are. By doing so we can figure out that Cahaya could be fighting in LITERAL and figuratively as in seeing things or hearing voices, but that would be threading into derealization while from what i'm observing Cahaya seems to be more showing signs of depersonalization (tbh it could be both but i'm leaning more towards DP instead of DR)

Anyway.. those delusions could cause him to have paranoia

Now light paranoia or caution is not a bad thing, but remember these are DAYS meaning Cahaya has been doing it repeatedly to the point it causes the others..

'They doubted him'

Being warned constantly or more specifically a repetitive action can cause a dull/numb reaction to it

Similar to how people who have a sensitive fire alarm has a higher chance to actually get CAUGHT in a fire than those who have a more loose fire alarm (theres a whole research that i could talk about for hours on how the human brain slowly ignores warning signs)

But notice the word choice. 'Doubted'. They didn't reject it or ignore it or even told Cahaya they didn't believe him, they doubted him. Meaning there was at SOME point of belief in his words; his paranoia. Meaning the others know of his delusions and that caused them to start doubting him. But it also means the others are willing to listen to him, albeit they don't believe it but at least they're not ignoring it.

But maybe at some point his delusion got a bit too much, maybe he started to fight with himself violently (not to the point that could warrant self harm but close), and the others.. got a bit wary of him

Which resulted in HIM doubting himself with 'Cahaya wasn't like retak'ka was he?'

The previous connections was between solar and retak'ka NOW tho cahaya is seeing himself.

He couldn't defend himself by using 'solar' as a shield anymore because he isn't solar currenlty, he is cahaya.

And if solar was the middle ground while cahaya being one of the more 'good' sides.. what happens if cahaya himself is like retak'ka?

And when came in doubt, when the shield he could wrap himself with is crumbling. The negative thoughts could thrive

'Cahaya was hearing the voice, it was loud'

Genuinely i do not know who cahaya is hearing when i first read this. Is it retak'ka? His negative thoughts? His brothers and friends?

But i like to think cahaya in this sentence was experiencing dissociation. Because the wording shows us that Cahaya had gotten used to it. The lack of emotions you can kinda feel in this sentence kinda solidifies he is most likely depressed (this child is not ok)

But then came something that surprised me

'Solar hated this'

WHY was solar the one to say/think this, it felt random and out of place. The previous placements made sense but this one was just... odd

And then i realized that solar didn't like cahaya; more specifically what cahaya is going through.

Solar is what cahaya wants to become. Its his middle ground, his shield, his safe space. Its the part of him that can go on missions (code name and all that jazz). In other words, Solar is cahaya's strength

Where cahaya is weak SOLAR is strong, hes the finisher, the one hit KO, the final boss of you will. I think cahaya believes that Solar hated what hes going through

The paranoia

The fear

The doubt

The delusions

The anger

The mix emotions

When in actuality cahaya probably hates that part of himself, the part with so many issues; issues that he KNOWS he has. But he doesn't like the thought of hating himself

So he uses Solar as an excuse to feel that hatred towards himself

Solar hated this

Solar doesn't doubt himself, hes a genius, he gets to go on missions

Hes using solar to feel validated on his self loathing and as a comfort

But he became reliant to that..

'Cahaya was giving up.. and gone?'

If he liked who Solar was so much why would he want to be Cahaya? He saw himself as solar to the point CAHAYA became the second image

Its not cahaya looking in a mirror and seeing solar anymore, but its the other way around.

Cahaya was weak. Solar isn't

Cahaya gets left behind. Solar doesn't

Cahaya is paranoid. Solar is confident (to the point of becoming too confident)

But despite everything. Despite how much he tries, he can't ignore the issues that he has

That he will ALWAYS have, its why cahaya isn't completely gone (the question mark '?' Is a sign of that)

And in the end

'Cahaya was like retak'ka in someways'

Its cahaya who leaned more.. who was more like retak'ka than solar was. How poetic that the 2 sides were in fact the exact same side. Because both are dead

Not completely tho..

'Solar was woken up hearing a voice, it was loud. It was himself'

It started with cahaya woken up by a voice and it ends with SOLAR waking up in his place. Very poetic anon claps for you! 👏👏

And we're finally given an answer on who the voice was. It was himself, well cahaya to be more specific

I kinda figured that it was cahaya waking up from a nightmare but again. Its CAHAYA.

i feel like cahaya subconsciously already disconnected himself with the voice (the voice represents his issues and trauma)

But after he became solar he has someone to pin point; to blame, for the voices.

Cahaya was the one who nearly died, he is the one with the issues, the problems, the trauma.

Solar is a representation of him IGNORING those issues, shoving it aside

But

.

.

Despite how much you try you cannot ignore the problems that you have, its why the voice is still there. Its why cahaya is still there, no matter how hard Solar tries. He will always have those issues

He will always be cahaya

Thank you for anyone who read all of this, and again anon i would just like to applaud you for this writing ^^

ANOOON WAKE UP ANOTHER ANALYSATION OF YOUR ASK ARRIVED🙌🙌

And damn, Cahaya is definitely the oc-ified cuz wow, hes literally an all rounded character but its not canon

This is amazing, more cahaya angst and explanations im getting inspired *rubs hands evilly👏*

So much character inspiration love this

#xoshi answers #xoshi asks #bbb septuplet au

[esmeriandreamer]

So I've been going through some old roleplays I've done with people, and one of the stories I wrote with my friend is just.. the perfect plot for a Dreamling fic??? Like, it fits these two so well, and I might write it myself- But if anyone in the fandom is inspired by this, feel free to take the idea! and also link me to it please and thank you <3

(Please note: This would be a medieval fantasy AU where there is magic, but the Endless siblings aren't their actual anthropomorphic personifications. Maybe they have minor powers over their domains, or they just have their nicknames, I say go wild with it-)

Okay. Let us set the scene.

Through some shape or form, Morpheus, one of the Endless princes, is cursed to see his first spouse die in a horrific way before his eyes. This, of course, scares away any potential suitor when they find out about this curse, because fuck that, they're not too keen on dying in a horrific way??

So, the king and queen decide on a plan; Morpheus will just have to marry some commoner who nobody would really miss, somebody who would've probably keeled over from illness within a month or three, so the curse will claim them and Morpheus will be free to find someone he wants to marry without y'know, constantly fearing he'll see them die a traumatizing death-

Enter Hob Gadling, an ex-soldier with no family, who the royal guards just plucked out of a local tavern, under the guise of "providing a special service for his country". He gets taken to the palace and is freshened up a bit, before going straight towards the chapel to marry the prince.

Morpheus is very much Not Pleased with all this, and after the wedding ceremony, once they are alone, he tells Hob about the curse. That he doesn't know when Hob will die, could be hours, days, months, or even years, but he will be dying a gruesome death and Morpheus will be forced to watch it happen. So, y'know, he's sorry this guy had to be roped into all this, he seems nice, it's a shame he'll have to die.

Yet Hob seems to take it pretty well, for someone who's been told they are now fated to die in terrible pain and all that jazz. He just smiles and basically goes "Welp, then I'll enjoy the remaining time I've got I guess- Life is still very rich and I intend to enjoy it by your side, your highness."

Morpheus can't help but admire the other's optimism a bit, but he tells himself that no matter what, he will not get attached to this man, because it'll only hurt more in the end. He tries to avoid Hob at the castle, but fate/the Plot keeps steering them back together into the same space, and spoiler alert, the prince starts to like this guy more and more, even though he knows it's gonna hurt when Hob perishes.

And then one day, while out on a ride together or something, Hob gets kicked in the chest by a horse, which would be breaking every rib and undoubtedly puncturing all the possible organs in that region of the body. And Morpheus, as stated by the curse, has front-row seats to the "Watching your husband choke to death on his own blood" show, sitting there all alone.

Only problem is... Hob doesn't die..? Like, he's clearly choking, but the bruises seem to slowly.. disappear? And he slowly stops choking on his own breath?? He even begins to cough and sit up???

Cue Morpheus freaking the hell out because huh???? How the fuck??? And Hob is just complaining that ow, fuck, that hurt like a bitch, can he please get some water?

More incidents like this start happening, to everyone's confusion but Hob, who seems to believe he's just ah.. very sturdy.

Hob's food gets poisoned with something that would've killed three grown men, and he gets violently ill, but a week later he's back to normal, and the spy on the staff who did the poisoning gets exposed because they cannot hide their extreme confusion as to how someone survived a triple dose of Night's Kiss???

Someone's fire spell goes wrong and Hob should've been burned to a crisp, but he's only got some first and second-degree burns, that'll heal, he's sadder about the fact that one of his fave new outfits got destroyed :c

A drop from the tower, the tallest one in the kingdom? Yeah, that one. Geez, it was high, and he has some broken bones, but he'll be okay, bones heal within a month anyway, right? (Right?, he asks, to a horrified but kind of impressed Morpheus, who can't even bring himself to tell Hob no at this point-)

Hob falls into a very strong river current, which sweeps him under and must surely drown him ten times over, but two hours or so later, Morpheus is met with a very soaked and chilly Hob, who climbed out of the river a few miles downstream and look, he even caught his prince a fish or three during his little adventure ^^

It's not until Hob 'dies' in a way that cannot be explained by having a strong immune system or being able to muscle through some pain, like.. I dunno, a decapitation or something, that Hob goes "Wait a second, weird idea, but maybe I'm immortal?"

"YOU THINK???" - Morpheus, on the verge of a nervous breakdown at this point-

And also at this point they realize that wait a fucking second, Hob literally cannot die, and the curse cannot pass on to a second spouse, holy shit, Morpheus gets to keep him- And it'll be cute and whoever/whatever gave Hob immortality in the first place goes "Okay, sure, your hubby can live forever too, here you go-"

Really tempted to write it now, but feel free to steal this word vomit idea of mine if you want- xD

#dreamling #dream of the endless #hob gadling #fic idea #the sandman

[citrusella-flugpucker]

Do Better.

To @habitica staff (and in the interest of notifying Tumblr users who may not have realized anything was happening at all who may want to integrate this knowledge into their understanding of Habitica’s landscape going forward--open letter and all that jazz):

On Tuesday, January 31, you said that conversations in the Tavern had been disruptive and alienating to fellow Habiticans. You directed this at socialites.

So let’s talk about that.

On Monday, January 30, a troll targeted me and others in the Tavern for over two hours before you finally completely put your foot down regarding it.

Except you didn’t. You saw that I had tried to give their story the benefit of the doubt and tried to politely note some problematic phrasings of theirs and you decided sending the convo to PM was okay. Because, IDK, you didn’t see the flags from earlier where they were trying to gaslight me or whatever.

The user tried to strong-arm me into letting them share my words in a TikTok they claimed was about their autistic sibling’s “coping journey” (something I was not keen to be part of considering what I know about the kind of person who is likely to post autism-related things phrased that way). I know you know this because I reported the messages to you and you responded to those flags with clear understanding and took action (I presume a mute but I don’t actually know).

...And then the user took it offsite. They made a post about me on Twitter and by the end of the day I had several flames to fics on my AO3 account. (I “know” this was a tweet despite not having concrete proof because I am choosing to believe the least hostile (even nice at the end of the day) person who commented to my fics and who I was able to reply to and get a reply back from is telling the truth.) I was afraid to check my email for three days straight.

All for something I firmly believe the mods would have put a stop to and evaluated the full situation of far before it could have become that kind of problem. But there are no more mods. Only you.

Do better.

You said that comments posted in an effort to incite a hostile or contentious environment in public spaces in Habitica are unacceptable. You implied that PMs about it are also unacceptable. You directed this at socialites.

So let’s talk about that.

Since December 5, 2022, your treatment of sharing the reasons the mods were gone and why, after their strike and subsequent removal, has made everyone feel like anything they do or say or feel about the decision can’t be discussed without fear of account consequences. That is a hostile environment in public spaces.

In late evening January 31, you--at least temporarily--unhid a post that clearly did not comply with ultimatums you had just laid out in the very same chat, despite receiving reports that it was directly hurtful to other users and violating the ultimatums. There is no clear reason this was done unless it was because it was declared to be okay because its ire was directed only at contributors and not at staff. That is a comment that incites a hostile or contentious environment in public spaces in Habitica.

Between January 31 and February 2, you have muted and even full-on banned people without clear explanation of the things you believe they did wrong, and sometimes with a flimsy, nonsensical, or even nonexistent explanation when you were pressed for one. People are afraid to do anything now lest a staff that is employing increasingly totalitarian consequences to actions that shouldn’t call for consequences that severe prevent them from accessing the site at all. That is a contentious environment.

On January 31, you posted a message to Aspiring Socialites declaring these ultimatums but also suggesting we “do better”. This message, crucially, was describing something that not all socialites did something to cause (I know this because I asked point-blank and you (eventually) answered), but yet its words apparently apply to all socialites. But if that’s true, we can’t all need to “do better” unless you thought we were all “doing worse”--and this was a public message directed to all socialites and not individuals who exhibited behavior you thought to be bad, something I witnessed little to none of, anyway. That is a comment that incites a hostile or contentious environment in public spaces in Habitica.

Do better.

You are making people scared. You are letting people get hurt. Your moderation practices since the mods’ removal have resulted in noticeable changes to chat that have alienated many long-time Habiticans. You don’t seem to even want a community so much as an army of underlings who will never say anything that might challenge you to think about what you’re doing or to reflect on your actions.

As staff, people look to you as examples of what Habitica should be. Do better.

#habitica #habitrpg #ponderings on habitica #ponderings on habitrpg

[sadlynotthevoid]

I just read this fic:

And can I say, I love the idea of Jason joining the Fenton family so much? Usually is otherwise, and I really like that, but they would be so good for each other.

He would fit so well with them, a family of bright, intelligent, people with feral overprotective tendencies and academic aspirations (no, Danny is not the exception, he wanted to be an astronaut). Jazz finally would have someone to nerd about non-ghost/technological things and he's a triumphant at the same level as her— a triumphant in a genius family.

Danny would have a Big brother who is happy to scare anyone he asks, help him with the superhero things one only can master (lol) through experience or a mentor's guide, and he can introduce him to the ghost culture. Besides, he would enjoy listening to Danny's space infodump.

Danielle and he would get along like a house on fire. He would carry her on his shoulders for fun but also so Ellie could look down on people she's being petty with. And they would exchange travel stories.

Last but not less important, Jack and Maddie could be excellent parents for Jason, especially post-resurrection. When he needs to feel safe and loved. And in a universe where Maddie and Jack turned pages and are doing better now— They're putting effort to be better parents because they love their kids— that's what he gets. Unconditional love.

He went for a lot of things and then when he was finally in a safe place, everything went down and he died. He woke up to a world that didn't change a single bit of those parts— those parts that hurt him and others that can't do anything but try to defend themselves and resist. And yet, it changed too much. The people he cares for and love were different, and he could accept that with time, but what was the point if they didn't would try to do the same for him?

Because from his point of view, they don't love him anymore or not in the same way he loves them. Not at the same amount either. And it hurts. Knowing that he's never going to be as loved as the others. That his dad prefers a fake memory of a son that he doesn't seem to remember well, an illusion, over him, a son that came back from death and cried for him even when he couldn't think. When he was a brainless zombie basically. It hurts him to know that, at his father's eyes, he worths nothing now. It hurts him every time he sees the scar in his throat.

It no surprises him when one day he wakes up feeling there's liquid fire destroying him from inside. He's having trouble to breathe and his head is screaming nothing and everything at once— Fortunately, he doesn't stay alone like that for too long.

At some moment his phone must have gone off because before he noticed it, he had it in his hand and a familiar voice was talking from the other side. For some miracle (or what Roy called his Jay-senses) Roy Harper decided to call him at whatever hour it was. They talked. What was happening? He didn't know. Is he injured? No. Is he in pain? "..." What did he need? Again, he didn't know.

For when Jason ended the call, they must have spent at least a hour on it. He vaguely remembers that the sky was still dark when he woke up and now the sun was— well, not out because it was Gotham, but it was somewhere up there.

Two hours later, Jason is driving out of Gotham, following Roy's advice. Who may not be a therapist but learned enough about mental health from Dinah to know what Jason needed. Space from the metaphorical knife in his heart. So he chose a random direction and started moving.

The next morning Jason finds himself in a town called Amity Park, Illinois, he thinks. He wasn't paying too much attention to anything that wasn't the road. Quite the opposite, actually. He was looking for a distraction.

At that exact moment, a green glowing blur collided five feet from him. Whoa, that was close. The green blur was followed by a flying... galaxy-themed child? Said child raised his hand and shouted a green beam to the crater where the green crashed.

Well, he was looking for a distraction, wasn't him? Maybe he should wait and see what's happening here. He doesn't know if the kid is a meta defending himself of a robot or just practicing his powers.

"Wao! Wao there kid! Watch the bike! I just painted it! Don't ruin my hard work like that". So, the green one was a person, not a thing. Good to know.

"Well, don't ruin MY hard work then, Johnny——", the glowing star child frowned, tilting his head. "Do you sense that? Is like—" he closed his eyes and turned around— And what kind of relationship do they have that he can do that with someone he was attacking just a seconds ago?— the green guy also did the same thing. It looked a bit funny. What were they even doing? Maybe they were searching something?

Well, he was never going to find out that spying on them like a stalker. That was more a thing of— yeah. No. Not that he was hidden, just in silence under the shadow of this big tree. So, yeah, nothing like him.

"Hey", he stepped out— and immediately got wrapped by a black whip thingy and pulled in front of the glowing people. The thing screeched. What was this?

"Shit. You're core is breaking bad man."

His what?

____

Then they carry him to Danny's home and Johnny goes for Frostbite while Danny explains him what a core is because dude looks so confused. Then he has to explain what a halfa is and boy, he didn't need another identity crisis.

Jazz arrives in the middle of this, sees his brother giving a Ghost Intensive Course resumed to a strange teenager on the sofa, and postpones her own crisis (because they ARE turning in her parents, damnit) to start damage control.

For when Frostbite comes with a core expert aside, the Fenton parents had already wrapped Jason like a burrito. Jack is seated on the next couch to him with a plate of cookies (from Tucker's dad btw), Maddie is placed beside Jason talking about his time at college, and the three Fenton children are coming down from preparing the guest room.

Turn out his core IS shattering because, for ghosts, that are partially made of it, emotions are highly important. So, experiences like abandonment or betrayal, for example, can cause damage to the core.

The feeling of burning was the energy of his core escaping through leaks. Frostbite tells them that if he hadn't got help now, he probably would have felt a sharp sudden pain in a few days and exploded. Jason almost choke on ecto-rade when he heard that, he was at the edge of his second death and would have been an explosion. Again.

He gets promptly distracted when the other yeti, a lady called Blizzard, inquires that the liquid sensation was probably a sign that he has a water affinity core, and proceeds to explain what core affinities are. He can't help but grin because that sounds just like he will be able to do water bending. What? He died at fifteen, he was allowed to act childish sometimes.

----

Anyways, that's all what I have so far. Feel free to add anything.

#dpxdc #The fentons adopting Jason #Who needs a furry when you have a giant sweet engineer and a kickass dictor lady to parent you #And yes #I headcanon Jason as water core #No I'm not explaining now #I have low battery

[kylesvariouslistsandstuff]

"I miss the artier, experimental older days of Pixar!"

You mean when... They were just a small bunch of computer nerds - including an ex-Disney guy who left during the studio's stagnating years - in the Bay Area making weird and experimental little CG short films? *That* Pixar?

All joking aside, I love the apparent simplicity of the first four shorts made during this era of Pixar. Right after being spun off from Lucasfilm (formerly, they were known as the Graphics Group), right after Steve Jobs bought them for $5 million in early 1986... An era where they were not only playing with the technology, trying to see what computer-generated imagery could achieve in the realm of classic-style character animation and anthropomorphization, but also an era where they were making films that you weren't seeing in mainstream animation at the time.

It's often written that the 1970s and the majority of the 1980s were such a dire time for American animation, and while it was far from perfect, these kinds of quick reductive statements brush over a WHOLE ERA of experimental and underground work that was happening in the background. Where few were noticing it. A body of work that was bubbling under the surface, and it finally came to a boil when it broke into the mainstream, helping make the 2nd Golden Age of Animation the monolith era that it was... A field that early Pixar arguably was once part of, when their work was playing at places like SIGGRAPH and not in front of millions of eyeballs.

Whether it's the use of freeform jazz music in LUXO JR., or the surrealism and melancholy of RED'S DREAM, the kaiju-like juxtaposition of a toy and a baby in TIN TOY, or Bobby McFerrin's accappella in KNICK KNACK, there's something quite offbeat about these early John Lasseter-directed shorts... They're silent, yes, but there's a lyrical quality to them as well, that channel more early Disney than the talky screenplay-driven storytelling of the majority of their feature films.

Heck, one can mount a whole argument that Pixar stomped that all out after signing a feature film deal with The Walt Disney Company in 1991... And that they traded this kind of pseudo-avant garde experimentation for 80-minute Disney movies... Like TOY STORY, like A BUG'S LIFE, etc. etc. They went too mainstream, mannnn.

Of course, I don't think that at all. At least, not in such simplistic terms... But I do feel that there is some kind of truth to that sentiment, though some of the beloved Pixar feature films do - I feel - preserve some that early short film weirdness. At least one short made after the release of TOY STORY, such as 1997's GERI'S GAME, still did this kind of thing. A lot of the post-TOY STORY shorts are more just cute and fun than anything else, sometimes conventionally emotional and personal but in a small bite. SparkShorts kinda kept those weird-era quirks alive, I'd say. But barely.

In other words, whenever very-online people grouse about how Pixar has lost its touch or whatever... Whether it was during the early 2010s (CARS 2-to-MONSTERS U era) or now, I think back to these early shorts... This whole myth that Pixar was some arthouse studio above the rest, when I don't think that was ever true. At least, not with the features. TOY STORY was a blockbuster from the get-go, and the studio hadn't seen a financial failure until 20 years later (THE GOOD DINOSAUR). Some of the films made by their more esteemed directors, the ones that were allowed by leader John Lasseter to do what they wanted, did wear some experimental ideas and themes, yes? That halcyon magical stretch of movies; RATATOUILLE, WALL-E, UP, ya know? But even those movies are still quite conventional at the end of the day. WALL-E, for example, would've truly been an "arthouse"-style movie if it had stayed silent the whole time or if the space stuff was less "save the world". Like, it's very conventional and quite audience-friendly I'd argue. It ain't FANTASIA or BAMBI, that's for sure. I still really love that movie, but you catch my drift, right?

I feel the majority of Pixar's pre-2010s movies came out at a time when critics didn't find much to chew on with other animated movies, "other" animated movies that kids took with them into the future and have turned into cult classics. The likes of TITAN A.E. and ATLANTIS: THE LOST EMPIRE and THE ROAD TO EL DORADO and such. So, to them and several online movie "experts", the Pixar movies looked like the gold standard. Or even the only game in town. Which made the reveal that they were a studio just like any other movie production company... Very shocking!

But really, this idea that they were a mesh of arthouse-meets-commercial in the late 2000s, with RATATOUILLE, WALL-E, UP, etc.... And that they threw that all away and started sucking? I think it's bunk. You want "arthouse" Pixar? The early shorts are that.

[stuckphantom]

Hey, Pinkroboticunicorn here! Decided to post my Danny Phantom AU here as well, so people can catch up with the story.

Note that this is an unfinished fanfiction that is for Tumblr, and a Prologue, more story to come, anyway here ya go!

Prologue: Danny Phantom.

Danny was always a ghost hunter, through and through like his parents, he never really quit or retired, but he got outted big time, and not in the way you would expect.

It was a seemingly regular day, he was now a sophomore in school, and had just returned from summer vacation, when in the middle of class he just out of the blue transforms into his phantom form, and can't change back. It was COMPLETELY out of the blue, and he kinda panicked, and by panic I mean PANIC! Everyone knew Danny Fenton was Danny Phantom, the reaction wasn't too bad, but it led to a life altering path.

Firstly Danny was stuck in phantom form permanently, but he learned how to alter his clothes from the usual jumpsuit he'd wear, so he could wear normal clothes, but anything he wore had an eerie after glow to it. It's whatever though. 

Valarie needed some space after learning what she did, she just couldn't face Danny until she was ready, but she came round in the end, and even embraced him, and his powers.

Danny's parents were shocked, but not surprised, and apologized for trying to hunt him down, and in solidarity of their son proudly dyed their own hair white.

Vlad, after finding out panicked big time that it might happen to him, so he abducted Danny and studied him for the short amount of time he had him, to make sure it wouldn't happen to him.

Sam, Dani, Tucker, and Jazz absolutely defended him and had their guard up around everyone, but let their guard down when people started to accept him for what he was, a phantom kid.

Dani also found a home with the Fentons as the youngest kid, and officially got adopted from Vlad, else Vlad would suffer the wrath of Maddie Fenton, which is something he didn't want to do, since then Dani has had happy times ahead with her new parents.

Of course during High School they discovered, and rediscovered themselves, Valarie after coming back from her much needed space, began to catch feelings for Danny again, but not just Danny Sam too, and vice versa, so they entered a Poly relationship in their Senior year of High School, and have been going strong ever since.

Dani is still discovering herself, but finds she crushes on boys, girls, and anyone in-between as a pan teen, but it's only crushes.

Now Tucker is a curious case, for the womanizer he was, it was merely a compensation for his real self, he was gay, but didn't want Danny or Sam to know at all, because he was afraid, he was bullied by his last friends for his interests, so he needed to make no one knew he wasn't straight, and only managed to come out officially during Senior Year, when he saw Danny's relationship, and knew he couldn't hold back any longer, he had to come out, and started to date Paul.

Paulina had come out as trans Sophomore year, before the Phantom incident, he changed his name to Paul and everything, and his friend group oschrisized him, and kicked him out, since then he kind of just drifted towards the "loser table" AKA Danny, Sam, Val, and Tucker, since then Paul was a bit of an awakening for Tucker, as the hottest "girl" in school became the hottest boy in School, and he protected him from everyone who would try to bully and mock him, and the like, and they just fell in love.

And when Tucker came out, Paul made his move, and they've been dating since then.

Danny and his friends have fought many villainous ghosts! Danny has also fought villainous ghosts with his family, and he's been doing it still as a now 18 year old, however sometimes you do gotta take a break from time to time, like maybe after graduation, and going through all those tests a nice relaxing cruise with your family?

#dp au #danny phantom #dp fanfic