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sunflowerharrington · 3 years

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🎨Draw Me Like One Of Your French Girls - Ralph Bohner🎨

haha, boner. this is a crack fic, please do NOT take it seriously!

(not requested)(and thank god it wasn’t, i am ashamed)

(this gif, man) (he’s really hot tho so i can forgive, a little)

summary: how ralph bohner came to be.

a writing exercise i did to get in the mood for writing, featuring marvel’s worst thing they’ve ever done. sorry ralph, we didn’t need to see ya, mate. originally, ralph wasn’t even in this but now he is. not sorry about it. i just based this purely off the fact that i am a literal woman child and also the fact that ralph and peter are not the same person.

tags: language, uhmmmm… ralph bohner and the dick joke, fietro, fake peter, oc has a pet spider, inspired by a tiktok my sister sent me, writing exercise. anything else? i’ll tag it when i’m done, not edited at all (i need motivation so this just… happened.) they’re teenagers in this (i wanna be kendra so bad).

notes: you can definitely tell when i do something in docs and when i do it straight on a tumblr post… yikes. think ya can tell it hasn’t been edited at all and was done in like ten minutes maximum. started off as just describing the atmosphere but then ralph bohner popped up to say the thing he’s gonna say… (haha, get it?)

wc: 888

Kendra stares blankly at her wall, watching the spider crawl up and down and walking in loops over the small spirals of pink paint on the surface, now wearing what looks like little pink boots. She smiles, moving closer to her friend, watching as the spider crawled into a corner of the wall and went asleep.

She breathed out softly, just looking mindlessly at the spider, deciding to scoop her up in her arms to stop her from sticking to the wall when the paint dried, not wanting her to be stuck there forever. She carried the spider over to her little sanctuary and placed her down on the soft leaves, pink paint bouncing off the green in the leaves, brightening the sanctuary. She popped the lid back on and then set the sanctuary back down on her desk.

Kendra walked over to her bed and sat on the edge, taking her sketchbook off her nightstand, with drawings of creatures and nature, her favourite drawing being the one of the girl with the pink hair. Kendra’s favourite colour was pink, and she used it everywhere; from her walls to her everyday makeup (tinted lip balm). She flipped to the drawing she was doing for her best friend, Peter, and began adding more and more details to her friend’s beautiful face, until she noticed something;

A presence in the corner of her room, as if somebody was watching her. She pressed the lead of the pen down onto the paper again and completed the outline of his body and head, and it appeared in front of her, like a hologram. She gasped, her hand shaking as she added Peter’s nose, lips and eyes, and some clothes: A purple and blue Hawaiian shirt, a black leather jacket and some light wash jeans.

There was a knock on Kendra's door, and her mom entered the room, also looking at the presence in shock. “Pete? I thought you were at school?”

No answer. she tried again, still no answer. Kendra tapped “Peter” on the shoulder and he slowly turned around, looking down at his faded hands.

“Mom, I- I think whatever I draw comes to life. That’s n-not Peter, his hair is silver, not blonde. I didn't have a silver-colored pencil…”

“Don’t be so ridiculous, you’re talking nonsense, Ken,” her mom said, turning to leave the room. “And it’s the middle of winter, why is he wearing a Hawaiian shirt?”

She left the room, and Kendra was left alone with her creation, who was wandering around her room, bumping into her desk and her chair. she quickly wrote down the first name that came to mind and called it out. “Ralph? Can you hear me?”

Ralph turned to look at Kendra, his blank expression inspiring her to write emotions down on the page; happiness, sadness, fear, excitement, proudness, love, etc. Anything she could think of. And she gave him a funny surname. She drew him slightly different to her Peter, and used the lead of her pencil to swap his hair from blonde to silver. “You look just like him now.”

“Like who? who are you?” he asks, sitting down next to her, looking down at the paper. “What are you drawing?”

“You,” she simply said, drawing small tattoos on his arms and one tiny one on his right hand, and she added more details to his hands and clothes.

“Can you give me a big dick?” he asked, more like an order than an actual request, bursting into laughter when he saw what’s written on the page. “Haha, boner. You’re funny, man! Are you drawing me? Oh, you said you were. Uhm… Hey uh… Can you draw me like one of your french girls?”

He began snickering. Oh God, he’s just like Peter. 𝘛𝘰𝘰 much like him.

“No, absolutely not.”

“But wouldn’t it feel so good sucking on a big dick? Bet you’d like that.”

“God, Pe—Ralph! I don't want to suck your dick!” Let it be rephrased; he is the unfiltered (she didn’t even know you could get more unfiltered than Peter), completely and utterly honest version of Peter. “Fine, I'll draw it bigger so you stop annoying me.”

She began drawing again, and Ralph watched closely as the pencil drew lines on the page, and he felt himself growing. A gigantic grin grew on his face too, and he threw his arms around Kendra, kissing her on the lips. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

Okay, she needed to teach him to not do that.

“No problem.” She rolled her eyes, setting the sketch pad and pencils back down on her dresser. “How the fuck am I going to explain this to Peter…?” She muttered under her breath, her mind running a million miles an hour (still not as fast as her twinkie-loving best friend, however).

“So, ya gonna draw anything else?”

“I already drew you, Ralph. And if I do it again I'll clone you!”

Ralph pouted, grabbing the pencil off her, “Fine. I’ll draw something myself.”

“The power only works with…” a butterfly appeared out of thin air, causing her to slow her words. “…me… Welp, I guess it doesn’t.”

“We can become millionaires by drawing lots of money, whatever your name is. Miss girl, is what I’m gonna call ya. Ok? I’m gonna draw loads of stuff for us.”

taglist: @cooperdays-gf , @xxlangdon, @unlivingdreams <3

“miss girl” - ralph in tate’s fanfic, march 14 2022.

#peter maximoff #pietro marvel #marvel #xmen #fietro #ralph bohner #oc’s got a superpower too!#um i don’t even know what this is #writing excercise #just an imagine not a proper oneshot #fietro marvel #marvel’s biggest fuck up to date in my valid opinion #xmen fanfiction

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cblgblog · 3 years

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For the get to know you author ask: 25) copy/paste a few sentences or a short paragraph that you’re particularly proud of?

Oh my god, someone actually responded. I am pleasantly thrilled, thank you, anon <3

So I’m gonna go with something from the third chapter of the current Soulmates fic (which desperately needs an update I know but it hasn’t been abandoned it’s just over 20k words at the moment nobody hates me over that wait time like I hate me for that wait time).

Ahem. So, chapter 3, May, December, and Some Romance.

Therese was still clicking away when the burst of fireworks split the daytime sky.

It was not the loudness of the sound that truly caught Therese’s attention, nor the brief flare of color that came with it. She was used to working around all the unexpected distractions of New York. It was Angie’s curse word that threw her off. Angie getting up so fast from their shared chair that she knocked into Therese. Some of her beer sloshed over and hit Therese’s arm, her camera, the rest of it spilling into the sand at their feet.

The sudden cold on her skin made Therese gasp, lower the viewfinder. Her reflexive horror at anything unwanted touching her camera was quickly overtaken by the intensity of the scene in front of her. Peggy, playing happily with Jake the moment before, was now stiff as a board, her body curled around his. She had an arm around his belly, another around his chest, covering him, holding him in her lap. Jake was fussing, but it was just as likely due to being pulled from his game as it was to the way he’d been pulled.

Therese wondered why Angie wasn’t there with them, until she saw what was happening further down the beach. Unlike Peggy, Steve wasn’t even partway sitting up. He was in the sand fully, the abandoned beach ball nearby. It took Therese another second to find the girls, to realize they were hidden under Steve’s bigger frame. The muscles in his bare back stood out, even at this distance. His wet hair almost touched the sand, he was curled that tightly over the girls. Therese might not have known they were there at all if not for glimpses of Rindy’s bright yellow swimsuit.

Therese reacted without thinking. Putting the camera down with none of the necessary care, she stood, ran after Angie, who was halfway to Steve already.

“Therese,” Carol said, somewhere behind her.

Therese ignored her, some base instinct of concern for Rindy overriding anything else. She ran to catch up, noting that, bizarrely, Angie slowed down as she got closer. By the time she was within touching distance, she’d gone to almost a walk, which made it easier for Therese to close the gap. She was close enough to hear Angie say something indistinct, presumably to Steve, who was still doing whatever the hell he was doing.

Therese hadn’t processed any of it. She didn’t know what she was looking at, what she was even thinking, except that something was very wrong here. What she would’ve done about it became a question unanswered because suddenly there was an arm around her middle, causing her to stumble in the sand.

“Don’t,” Carol said, pulling her closer than was probably wise, no matter how spread out the beachgoers were.

“Rindy,” said Therese, impatient as she went to get out of Carol’s hold.

“I said don’t!”

The sharpness in her voice brought Therese up short. If that hadn’t done it, Carol’s nails pressed into her stomach, over her bathing suit would have. Not enough to hurt, but Therese felt them, felt a warning. The shock of it held Therese still as much as Carol’s arm, still in place and promising to tighten if necessary.

Was that way too long and self indulgent for that question? Probably. Anyway, some of you around these parts know that I’m a whore for PTSD, the ghosts one brings back from war, trauma, etc. Or maybe everyone knows because I have no chill in my writing. Regardless, this was a scene that was sitting in my head quite awhile before I wrote it, or even decided on a place to write it. I just knew I wanted to do it, for a long time. I was going for a kind of slow motion car crash vibe, which I think comes through in the finished scene. A lot of the Stegginelli scenes in Soulmate (say that 5 times fast) end up written from Carol or Therese’s perspective. Part of that is because I like seeing them through civilian eyes. Like, Belivaird are friends with them, they have things in common with them, they’re family, but they’re also people who both lived through all the Cap propaganda, saw it from the perspective of the average person. And they’re people who, despite being family, are still on the outside in certain respects. There’s plenty of stuff they’re not a part of, whether it’s officially classified by the government or not. Which is an interesting place to write from, and why I really wanted to do this scene in particular. Almost all of what Carol and Therese have been privy to when it comes to Stegginelli has very much come from Stegginelli. They’re given only as much access as Stegginelli want them to have, and they know this. Except here, where they’re witness to a very private, personal moment...that just happens to be happening in broad daylight on a semi-crowded beach.

And that, that explanation was so very self indulgent, Jesus, this is why no one asks you things you dope.

#Stegginaird #author asks #my writing #Anonymous

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asphalt-cocktail · 5 years

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Inside Out

A/N: Well in honor of Tony Stark’s birthday being today I wanted to upload this fic I wrote for a request I had in my inbox for a Tony Stark X plus size!Reader. I honestly cant think of anything else to say my brain is pretty dead haha.

Warnings: Body image issues, fat shaming, angst, fluff, awkward first date, supportive Pepper, no spoilers

Word count: 2200ish

Pairing: Tony Stark x Plus size!Reader

Summary: Tony Stark’s assistant hasn’t had much luck with dates.

Request for @lilacprincessofrecovery

Masterlist

Submit a request or ask me a question or want to be tagged

Being Tony Stark’s assistant had some perks, like living arrangements and pay, but it also had some down falls like having to deal with the man child’s temperament and the fact that Tony watched damn near your every move. This included every time you got stood up which recently, seemed often. Once a week you would get all dressed up, hair done, full face painted, and go out to wait for your date at some nameless restaurant and wait… and wait… for hours for no one to show. Each night Tony would be waiting for you to come back and stay up making sure you were okay.

Today though, you insisted it was going to be different. Pepper sat with you while you blow dried your hair and filled in your eyebrows “So, tell me about this boy?” Pepper pressed, hoping for as much detail as possible out of you.

“Well his name is Jake and he is a CFO for some bank around here.” You answered, “We’ve been talking all week, I’m really excited, he doesn’t seem like the other guys.”

Pepper nodded her head, she hoped you were right. Seeing you heartbroken at least once a week was starting to chip away at her own heart.

“We are meeting at this Italian restaurant at 12 for lunch.” You said and puckered your lips, observing your lip line and making sure it was even and clean. You looked at your phone for the time, 11:30, time for you to leave. You quickly grabbed your jacket and purse “By Pepper! By Mr. Stark!” You called from the door and with that you were gone without another word.

At the restaurant you waited for 15 minutes before Jake met you at the table, so far it was going better than your last 5 dates. “Y/N?” He asked pulling the chair out.

You nodded your head “Yes! You must be Jake.” You said smiling sweetly. The two of you ordered a glass of wine and made pointless conversation. The same pointless conversation everyone makes on dates; where are you from, what are your hobbies, favorite movies, etc.

“So, where do you work?” Jake asked.

“I work for Stark Industries.” You were proud of where you worked, Mr. Stark had done so many amazing things within the last several years.

“Oh wow, that is such a great company to work for” He added enthusiastically, you knew but retorted a humble answer, “You know I think I am going to quick use the bathroom before the waiter comes back for our food.” He said, “I’ll be right back.”

You checked your phone, and aimlessly scrolled through your social media feed, waiting for your date to come back from his bathroom break. After about 15 minutes you looked around, and sighed, you had no idea what was taking him so long and texted him asking him if he was okay. Another 15 minutes passed and there was still no response and no sign of him. You packed up your things and threw a fist full of money on the table to cover the glasses of wine you sucked down at an ungodly rate while waiting and left. Your drive back home was spent with you blasting music and trying to hold back your tears after yet another failed date.

You were greeted with Tony’s smiling face “How did it-” he started but was cut off by you pushing past him and throwing your jacket and purse on the floor and storming off into your room.

You unknowingly shut the door in Tony’s face and sat on your bed, wondering what was wrong with you. A ping on your phone knocked you out of your thoughts, it was Jake. You didn’t know why you opened it, you should have just ignored his message, but for some reason you opened it curious as to why he just up and left.

Maybe he had an emergency?

You should really post full body pictures on your dating profile.

Was all the message said.

You felt you stomach drop as your face scrunched in pain and you threw your phone to the side. You knew this was why he stood you up, your body, you had always been a bigger girl, ample hips, plush thighs that touched, a stomach, this was why you couldn’t get a boyfriend.

You hadn’t even noticed the knocking at the door until you could hear Tony asking to be let in. You got up and shuffled to the door, Tony sighed seeing your disheveled state, lipstick half gone, mascara running down your face, nose red, and pulled you into a hug. You backed up and shut the door before you accepted his hug and leaned into his shoulder crying and leaving tear stains on his tee shirt.

“What happened?” He asked sitting down at the edge of your bed.

“He showed up this time, but he left before we even could order food.” You answered hiccupping and rubbing your eyes. “Then he sent me a message a few minutes ago saying I should post full body pictures on my profile.”

Tony looked at you in disbelief “All right. I want you cleaned and ready to go in the next hour. Wear that dress you wear to galas.” He said standing up. You looked at him, confused at what he was telling you, “Well come on, hurry up.” He said and leaving you standing there in disbelief.

Within the hour you had fixed your hair and makeup as best you could and waited for your boss down in the foyer wearing your best dress. Soon Tony wandered downstairs clad in a grey suit and sunglasses and walked out to where his car was waiting. He sped up to walk ahead of you and opened the door “Come on,” He said and ushered you into the seat. You looked around still confused at what was happening.

“Where are we going?” You asked once he was in the car and already on the road.

“A date.” His tone was very matter of fact.

You looked at him shocked “A date?” You asked, “You are taking me on a date?” You let out a somewhat bitter laugh.

Tony glanced at you with a puzzled expression, “I’m serious.” He said, “It seems like these guys don’t know how much of catch you are.”

Your face flushed, and you looked down at your feet “I don’t know about that. Maybe they’re right maybe I’m too fa-”

“I don’t want to hear you finish that sentence.” He said putting a hand up “You really have no idea how beautiful you really are, you’re just too much for these guys to handle, they don’t know what to do with all this woman.” You smiled but kept our eyes averted.

You kept a watch out your window and gasped when a five-star restaurant pulled into view. You knew Tony didn’t have reservations, but that didn’t matter when you were Tony Stark. No wonder he had asked you to dress up so nicely. Once again, he walked around and opened the door for you and allowed you to hold the crook of his elbow as he tossed his keys to the valet driver and within minutes the two of you were seated at a table with an amazing view of the city. You looked at the menu and frowned, everything on here was so expensive, way more than you could afford “Don’t worry about the cost I’m buying.” He said, “It’s a date remember?”

You nodded your head, almost forgetting how these things worked after dealing with so many shitty dates. You didn’t know what to say “So, I scheduled the appointments for next week,” Naturally business was the first thing to leave your mouth.

Tony shook his head “This isn’t a lunch meeting, Y/N, I’m taking you on date.” He added putting his menu down and looking at you “What are your hobbies, where are you from? I want to know about you, you’ve worked with me for 5 years now and I don’t really know anything about you.”

You nodded your head, he was right, you knew almost everything about Tony down to what his favorite shampoo brand was “Well, I grew up just outside the city with my parents, I went to college for PR and I enjoy painting.” You continued, on and on, describing your family and college along with anything else that came to mind. The entire time he seemed genuinely interested, which was not something you were used to.

Tony nodded his head taking in all the information you told him and burying it in his vast mental bank “You like art?” He asked, “Have you ever been to the Metropolitan museum of Art?”

You sighed, out of all of your years living in New York, you had never once been to the Met “No… I haven’t.” You said sounding disappointed.

“Well then, we have our next date picked out then.” He said smiling.

You looked at him shocked “Our next date?” You asked, “I thought this was like a one-time thing…” you forced yourself to think of it as a one-time thing, a pity date for all the times you’ve been stood up, you didn’t want the disappointment of getting your hopes up for a second date.

Tony furrowed his brows “Y/n” He said, his gaze was intense “I am taking you on a date because I like you.” It was very much Tony’s style to bypass most formalities and get straight to the point “I see you come home ever week, one guy after another, breaking your heart and I can’t stand seeing it anymore.”

You sighed in relief as the waiter conveniently came to take your order before you could manage an answer, you looked at your menu and quickly scanned it as Tony made small talk with the young man taking your order. A grandiose picture of a steak with mashed potatoes and gravy, all the fixings caught your eyes, and you looked down at yourself and at Tony, back at the picture, then back at yourself and felt a surge of guilt push through you. Guilt for wanting to eat this glorious spread of food, you’ve eaten enough food today, you thought to yourself as you turned the page back to the salads and appetizers. You let out a puff of air “I’ll take a cobb salad.” You said smiling softly.

Tony arched his brow “What are you a rabbit?” He asked in a joking manor.

You shrugged your shoulders “I don’t know, I mean I had a big lunch…” you said trailing off

Tony handed back his menu to the waiter “Go on sweetheart, treat yourself today.” He said smiling slyly.

Your face flushed “Well…” You thought for a minute, thinking about what you had for lunch, oh right it was a nice big helping of tears and wine because you got stood up. “The steak dinner, rare?” You asked the waiter, he smiled and wrote down your order and refilled the two glasses of wine and went off.

The remainder of your dinner with Tony went very well, you two made small talk and were both surprised how little you knew about each other. Upon your arrival back to the compound Tony walked you back to his room, he sauntered by your side with his hands in his pockets, trying to act coy “When are you free next?” He asked.

You laughed “Well, I’m your assistant so I guess I should be asking you that…” You trailed off leaning against your door.

“Right…” Tony said trailing off “How about next weekend?” He asked “After the meeting with the marketing department?”

“So, Saturday at 11?” You asked, your mind was racing, you hadn’t been on a proper date in so long, how was he going to say good bye? Was he going to kiss you? Was he going to hug you? Give you a firm handshake?

“Yes, 11. Wear your walking shoes, we’re going to go to the Met.” He said and smiled, unsure on how to end things with you, he was never good at saying goodbye to people. So, he turned your head to the side and placed a lingering kiss on your cheek, it was sweet and simple and made your face flush. “Y/N,” Tony started, “As long as we are together, I don’t want you to ever feel less than, you are beautiful.”

You held his gaze, no man had ever complemented you so much in one night, let alone treated you this well, you didn’t know how to handle it “Thank you.” You said “I’m sorry, I don’t know how to handle complements.” You said looking down and playing with the ends of your hair.

A grin spread across Tony’s face as he looked at you, he loved the way your cheeks flushed and your eyes darted around nervously whenever he complemented you, it would take a while but Tony would make sure you would feel as beautiful on the inside as you did on the outside

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