Prompt 245
Now Danny would openly admit, if only to himself, that he had a type when it came to relationships. If they were strong, if they were a threat to him, then chances were he would develop some sort of crush. It was how he had dated Sam and Valerie (And Johnny & Kitty) when he was a bit younger, and hell, Sam had technically succeeded in killing him, even if partly.
Attraction towards smart people who could kill him was honestly par for the course for a Fenton or Nightingale anyway.
And he’d also admit he enjoyed a bit of time travel, learning about times and culture long before his time, to the point that he could blend in in ancient times just as easily as the time he had been born in. That it was natural to mutter in a language lost to time.
So color him surprise when another man perks up in the bar he had paused to get a drink in, vibrant green eyes gleaming in interest and responds in turn. And not just in the language, but able to keep up when he talks about things that once existed but haven’t been rediscovered yet.
And one thing led to the other, and there might have been some assassins and some shenanigans that end with them both laughing together in an inn and then more and- Okay he has a type alright, and he’s ticking each box! How is that fair?
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hi i wrote a short little something inspired by this post bc it wouldn't leave my head
season 2 canon divergence, in the aftermath of Steve being taken in by Hopper (don't ask me why it's happened, bc i dont know it's just how the story took shape in my head)
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Steve was pulling a pizza out of the oven when El drifted into the kitchen, bumping hear head against his arm like one of the Henderson's cats. Her hair was starting to curl at the ends, longer than when he'd met her.
"Can you please tell Hop to go to the store? We are out of Eggo's."
She was already holding the walkie when he turned to give her a look, eyes wide and quietly expectant in that intense way of hers. He rolled his eyes, sucking pizza sauce off his knuckle as he reached for the walkie.
They had a quiet stare-off as he held the button down.
"Hey Hop, you there? Over."
Soft static buzzed through the speaker as El leaned further into him, turning her gaze away to inspect the pizza, before Hopper's voice came through with a crackle.
"I'm working." A pause, and then a reluctant: "Over."
He and Hopper shared a similar opinion on walkie-talkie etiquette, but the kids were insistent so they did their best. El looked from the walkie and back to Steve without blinking. He sighed a short laugh. Pressed the button again.
"Jane needs you to go to the store. Over." Better to use her other name if he was working.
"Eggo's?"
"Eggo's."
Satisfied that her demand request had been passed on, El slipped out of the kitchen and plopped down in front of the tv, crossing her legs underneath her as the screen flickered to life. The remote remained untouched on the bench. She wiped her nose with her sleeve.
"Well, I currently have an 18 year old in the back of my car and I'll have to run him to the station first." Another pause. "-ucks sake, over."
The words fell out of his mouth without any real thought, a years worth of comfort in himself dissolving any filter he might've had. "Is he cute?"
The walkie crackled. Steve wanted to smack himself in the head with it.
"My son wants to know if you're cute."
Oh, he was going to kill him, even if he did feel warm and fuzzy over being called Hops' son.
"Uh, I want to say yes, sir?"
There was a second of loud laughter before the walkie cut off and Steve pressed it to his forehead in silent mortification. From the living area, canned laughter from Happy Days burst out of the speakers like the universe was mocking him.
When he looked up, El was smiling at the screen in bemused wonder, colours flashing across her face.
He cleared his throat, eyes shut as he held down the button again. "Please remember the Eggo's on your way home, we're having pizza. Over and out."
He pressed the antenna down for his own dramatics, before quickly pulling it back out again so he could be reached for emergencies.
It wasn't that big a deal, it's not like he'd ever actually meet whoever had been in the car.
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what do you mean youre technically a detransitioner cause of terf bullshit?
it's a v long story but i detransitioned for a couple of years when i was 16/17, for multiple reasons but mostly because i fell into the blaire white/kalvin garrah chamber of "you have to be This way to be trans otherwise you're not real".
i was already Deeply insecure about myself and my 'passing' and i was led to believe that i couldn't want to wear makeup or skirts, and i couldn't choose not to have bottom surgery, and i couldn't do anything but bind for 12+ hours a day to the point that my ribcage is still misshapen. basically i thought that if i wasn't suffering enough doing 'feminine' things, i couldn't really be trans, so i should just go back to being a girl and suck it up.
the terf bullshit is because i'd seen a lot of terfs/detransitioners talking about the 'dangers' of testosterone and how it would turn me into a horrible ugly evil monster and how there was nothing worse than wanting to be a man. which combined with 'you need to fully medically transition to be valid at all' creates some very dangerous and upsetting feelings to cope with.
it also came from trying really hard to put myself in a little box before i realised that my sexuality/gender are very fluid and it's FINE for me not to have a label and just do whatever i want. when i was 19 or so i went back to using they/them (and eventually he/him) and changed my name again because even though i like doing 'feminine' things, i don't want to be seen as a woman.
tldr: i was conditioned by transphobic/terf rhetorics to think that i was being trans the 'wrong' way so i couldn't be trans at all, so i believed i must actually be a girl if i still wanted to do 'feminine' things. nowadays i am a transmasc who does feminine things because i don't give two shits about what any transmed prick thinks of me anymore.
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Steve hates mixtapes, always has. He's made some for girls before, went all out, spent hours making them. But he doesn't get it. He doesn't understand why people like them so much, why people think the effort is worth it.
He remembers how those girls had smiled when he'd given them the mixtapes, remembers how sweet they'd been on him after, how they kept talking about it. Even though it's just some songs he thought they might like. He was never sure how to make any of them romantic, didn't know if they expected any input from him between the songs. He's pretty sure he'll never really get it, but…
He wants to make one for Eddie.
Eddie has been trying so hard to get him to like metal or rock or anything 'alternative'. And Steve doesn't know how to explain what he does or doesn't like, doesn't know how to explain why he likes Sabbath Bloody Sabbath but can't stand T.N.T.
He's tried to explain it. Tried to sit down with Eddie and explain that there is a happy medium betweent he ones too loud and the ones that are just… boring. And Eddie tries to listen, is so clearly trying.
But Steve can't explain it, doesn't know how to. Not without sounding like an idiot, anyway. Telling Eddie that a lot of AC/DC songs don't have enough going on to make his ears feel happy would ruin whatever thing the two of them have going on.
Which is why he's sat on the floor, desperately looking through the tapes Eddie has been forcefully lending him, trying to find the right songs for a mixtape. If he can't explain it to Eddie, maybe he can show him instead.
He refuses to acknowledge to odd bubbling excitement building in his stomach. Eddie is his friend, this isn't romantic. Eddie wants to show him his music, wants to share something he enjoys, there's nothing for Steve to be getting so worked up over. For all he knows, Eddie is straight.
It takes him three weeks to make the mixtape.
"Eddie!" Steve jogs to catch up with him. It's the third time they've run into each other by accident, outside of the kids or Robin. It's the first time that Steves had the mixtape in his pocket, ready.
"Hey Steve," he raises an eyebrow. "What's got you in such a good mood?"
"Day off," Steve lies. "And I'm done with the shit I need to do. Uh, anyway, I have- I mean, it's not… fuck. Ok, here, just…" He awkwardly holds the mixtape out, shifting when Eddie carefully takes it, like it's something precious. "It's, uh… I know you've been, like, struggling to figure out what metal songs I'm into or whatever so… these are the, uh, type. Things. I guess."
Eddie is smiling, small and soft. He hasn't looked up from the track list since he turned it over.
"I'm already noticing a theme." His voice is so gentle, almost adoring, that Steve feels his face heating up. It's only worse when Eddie looks up, turning that smile directly on him. "Thanks Steve."
"Uh, yeah, no worries?" Steve bites at his nail.
"I hope you know that I'm making you one," Eddie raises an eyebrow, smirking. He slowly starts walking around him. "After I'm done with this shelf for Wayne, I'm making you one. I'm gonna rock your world, Harrington."
Steve laughs a little, hopes it doesn't sound as awkward to Eddie as it does to him. "Look forward to it."
Eddie gives him a two finger salute, turning to walk a little faster to his van.
Steve waits until he turns a corner, looking around to make sure no one can see him and doing a little fist pump.
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Rise is just like “we must have the scariest versions of all the classic TMNT villains”
I mean Shredder was a demon, the Krang were terrifying & caused an apocalypse & even though we don’t directly see the Triceratons in Rise, Krang Prime’s throne is made from a Triceraton skull showing that the Rise versions of Triceratons are ACTUAL GIANTS.
People say that it’s interesting that the Rise Turtles are one of the only versions of the Turtles that were mutated on purpose but honestly these boys would not be able to survive their villains without Draxum making them to be literal super soldiers
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