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the-kr8tor · 10 months

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Hello! I was wondering if you could do a fic of hobie taking care of the cats by himself. Thank you and have a good one:)

Hi hun! Thank you for the request! I was starting to miss the cats ❤️ hope you like this!

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, established relationship, FLUFF

The cats are based on this fic

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

Hobie wouldn't leave your side as you fix your appearance in the mirror. He stares at you from your bed, legs criss crossed together. It was supposed to be a quiet night for the both of you, finally your schedules lining up together. Your cuddling and random conversation gets cut off by the loud ring of your phone. Your friend's sobbing through the receiver startling you both, thinking something bad happened. Turns out your friend desperately (in her own words) needed you for an emergency girl talk, her boyfriend breaking up with her for the tenth time this year, and it's only May.

Hobie sighs dramatically as you pick up your jacket, showing how much he doesn't want you to leave. He sighs again, louder this time. You crane your neck to finally look at him, he perks up immediately, thinking his plan worked.

"Hobie, my love" you move closer to him with every word, he smiles triumphantly, as you cup his jaw, whispering "I need to go, I'll only be an hour or two, tops" you try to reassure him.

His smile fades, replaced with a small frown "you said that the last time, she had you for five bloody hours" Hobie holds you by your waist, tugging at your jeans, he's sure you're uncomfortable in it since a minute ago you were in your comfy pajamas.

"I promise this time I'll be fast, okay?" You peck his nose "I'll even buy her some Ben and Jerry's to cheer her up faster"

"Buy her favourite flavour, that'll shut her up faster" he rolls his eyes, annoyed.

"Don't be mean" you leave a sticky kiss to his cheek "I'll call you when I get there, don't wait up for me, rest, okay?"

"Do you want me to swing you over there?"

"Nope, I'll be fine she's a lot closer now since she moved" you grimace, when you remember something "she rented the place with him, goddamnit" you realize that it might take you longer than you thought, maybe you should buy her a few tubs of ice cream.

You reluctantly pull away from Hobie, hand still intertwined with his. "I'm sorry, I'll be here before you fall asleep I promise, then we can cuddle until we pass out"

"You better. Be careful alright" he stands up, walking you to your door. You give him one last kiss before you go, a promise you'll be back before he misses you (it's a stretch though).

Your door clicks close, Hobie turns away from it, he stops in his tracks when your cats block his way, weren't they asleep a second ago?

Crumpet meows loudly, while Teacup moves towards his legs, moving her little body around his feet, asking for attention. Meanwhile Crowley stares daggers at him, but he too meows at Hobie, that's a regular occurrence when it comes to him, but this time he moves towards Hobie, stopping by his foot, staring up at him with his bright green eyes.

Hobie's a bit confused, Crowley has never been this close to him.

Crumpet meows again, moving towards their food bowl, she moves her paw over it. Hobie understands quickly.

"Hungry then? Alright I'm coming" Hobie moves towards the bowls, grabbing each one, he then goes to the kitchen, he moves in precise footsteps, avoiding stepping on Teacup, circling his legs. Their stack of food is hidden inside the bottom cabinet.

He grabs one of each, while the cats surround him, Teacup is purring around his legs still, Crumpet meows impatiently behind him, while Crowley watches him with vigilant eyes as if he's waiting for Hobie to mess up.

Hobie opens up a can, scooping it into Crumpet's orange bowl, a cartoon drawing of Crumpet's face is painted on it. He carefully drops it in front of Crumpet, stopping her loud meows. She immediately goes ham, her whole face submerged inside the bowl.

"Fuckin' hell, where's your manners?"

He opens Teacup's can, pouring it inside her bright pink bowl, the words 'spoiled princess' written in cursive is printed on it. She's spoiled alright, her food labeled with the word 'premium' on it. Hobie brings it towards his legs, dropping it carefully for Teacup to eat.

She sniffs at it, before she eats. "You're a picky eater, huh" he pets her on her head, scratching behind her ears.

Hobie moves towards Crowley's food, he slowly opens it, making eye contact with the void, while Crowley plots his demise if he ever spilled it.

He carefully pours it over his jet black bowl, the words 'little devil' painstakingly painted red on its side (Hobie's gift to you). Hobie gives it to Crowley, taking his hand back quickly, as if Crowley will bite his hand off.

Hobie washes his hands, sighing as he watches them eat.

His phone rings from his sweatpants' pocket, your voice ringing out, in the background he can hear the loud sobbing of your friend.

You move farther away (as possible, while your friend is basically clinging to you) "Hey Hobie, I made it here, as you can tell" a loud sob almost bursts his eardrum, moving the phone away from him.

He glances at the cats, crouching down to Crumpet's level, stroking her soft orange fur. "Really? Can't tell"

He hears your friend in the background, yelling "men aren't shit!" She grabs your phone "Why can't they all be like you, Hobie?!" She says through sobs, before she gives you back your phone.

"It's going so well" you sarcastically say.

"Give her a hug or something"

"Oh I am trust me" he hears a rustling sound on your end, Crumpet licks her face clean, satisfied. Hobie pats her head, as she dives for more. "It's okay, I know he's a piece of shit" he hears your muffled voice. You move the phone back to your ear. "Sorry, I almost forgot to tell you, don't, under any circumstance give the cats food"

"What?" His stomach drops, as he watches all three cats finish their meal.

"They might ask you for more, and they're quite persistent, they'll keep hounding you till you fork over some. Especially Crumpet, she's the instigator. I've fed them already so please don't give them any"

Oh shit, he curses internally. Crowley licks his face while staring at Hobie, it's like he's mocking him.

"Hobie? You still there?"

"Yeah, love" he tries to play it cool while he looks at Teapot's full belly, she saunters towards him, rubbing her face on his hand. "Get back home safely, yeah? Give her my love"

You raise your eyebrows at his flat tone, but you ignore it while your friend pours herself another glass of wine, oh, that's not good.

"Yeah, Sure, love you" You end the call, after that you try to wrangle the glass from your friend's hand.

Hobie pinches the bridge of his nose, oh these cats are gonna be the death of him. Crumpet bumps her head on Hobie's leg, her way of saying thank you. Teacup meows at Hobie to pet her, while Crowley narrows his eyes at Hobie. He swears he can see that cat smirk at him.

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

Special thanks to my irl bestie for telling me stories about her cat, love you ❤️ thank you for reading! Please consider reblogging if you enjoyed it ❤️

#request done #hobie brown x reader #spider punk x reader #spider punk #hobie brown #the kr8tor's creations #spider man across the spider verse #x reader #atsv fanfiction #atsv x reader #atsv fanfic #atsv hobie #fanfic #hobie brown x you #spider punk x you #hobie brown x fem!reader #spider punk x fem!reader #😺😻😾

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messinwitheddie · 10 days

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Nny "I told you; ginger makes for the perfect smoothie."

Zim "You were right. It was the only thing missing."

Dib "Wait! Nny, you can eat and drink?"

Nny "Uh... apparently so. At this rate I'll go back to Hell ten pounds heavier."

Dib "This is awesome! I've heard of the phenomenon, but I've never actually observed it myself. Holy shit, I'm gonna go grab my gear and cameras. Don't go anywhere. Keep drinking."

Nny "If Zim keeps mixing smoothies-"

Zim "Waiwaitwaitwait! Best smoothie in the universe aside, why is it so fascinating that this creature is consuming food exactly?"

Dib "Be....cause Nny is a ghost. A HUMAN ghost for the forth or fifth fucking time."

Zim "It's DEAD?"

Dib/Nny "YES!"

Zim "I thought it was an experimental pet you grew in your dad's lab to give Todd as a house warming gift!"

Nny "Kiss my ass."

Zim "Why don't dead things stay dead on this planet?!"

Dib "I don't know, Zim! That's why it's called paranormal research and not paranormal we know how it all fucking works already!"

Zim "You're telling me I wasted my spleeberry schnapps on a DEAD human?!"

Nny "There's alcohol in this smoothie?"

Zim "Two types of rum, five different whiskies, two types of vodka, creamsicle liqueur, tangerine Zima and four kinds of schnapps-- ONE OF WHICH YOU CAN’T BUY ON EARTH!"

Nny "What the fuck?! I drank almost two pitchers already!"

Dib "You didn’t taste the alcohol?"

Nny "NO! Not at all!"

Zim "That's how amazing it is. I missed a calling; should have been brewmaster. Ah well."

Nny "Hey! I'll give you a tip on earth etiquette-"

Zim "No thank you."

Nny "You don't feed a guy a bunch of alcohol without telling him!"

Dib "As a general rule, don't eat anything Zim offers you."

Nny "NOW you warn me!"

Dib "I didn't think I had to. Seems like common sense."

Nny "Goddamnit... ooh, wow. It all just hit me. I feel really screwed up."

Zim "Why are YOU upset? I'm the one down a third a bottle of high end exotic schnapps!"

Nny "Because I don't drink, you little shit!"

Zim "Really? Hu... Good thing you're already dead or two pitchers of this might have killed you. You should eat something to sober up. Here, have a smoothie."

Nny "Do I still have permission to murder him? Not that a lack thereof would stop me."

Dib "Absolutely, you're a guest here."

[A dialogue inspired by this quote

Wish I had time to draw this all out, but I planned on working on other things. This just kind of poured out of me.

For context; this is a subplot for my 18-years-later au: Dib impulse buys a historically haunted house upstate to conduct paranormal research again, wound up selling it to newlywed Squee and Pepito and Nny regularly haunts it.]

#invader zim #jthm #18-years-later #au #nny #dib #zim makes the universe's best hard smoothie

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je5hko · 1 year

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Trevor Phillips Headcanons

i decided on adding gifs to headcanons to make it look more “tumblr-ish”, or cooler. I dont fucking know. take the headcanons!!!!!!!

TW!! angst, drugs,

smut-ish?

He has LOOOOTS of scars from acne or even rash. He hates the feeling of bumps on his skin or whatever. The scratch scars are from drugs too, when he’s intoxicated he scratches him self so bad that he bleeds.

Even though he never showers, our sweet maniac likes the feeling of smooth skin, although he hates the texture of all kinds of shampoos, he thinks they’re too liquidy, so he uses the soap bar instead.

Absolutely hates texting. Its too tiring for him to read all the messages and emails he gets, he prefers calling.

Loves playing with his balls and pubes. Not even in a sexual way. He does it for pure fun. He would play with em even if theres someone in the room. Thats why he gets kicked out of buses.

He RARELY uses any sort of social transport. When he does, its because he’s tired and desperate for transport.

Whenever he sees parents spending time with their children, he sobs. His crying gets even worse when its a mother and son activity.

As a teen, he would draw himself with fictional characters having an orgy. Although he never told anyone about it. Its his dirty little secret

Hes scared of getting better, he convinced himself that he deserves every kind of pain he gets. Physical, mental, doesn’t matter.

My man is KING at Just Dance. No one could ever beat him at it.

He once took a picture of Michael shirtless, now he masturbates to his tits EVERY SINGLE TIME.

He either beats the shit out of Ron when he’s sad, or cuddles with him. Though, he has to be really intoxicated to hug him, so mostly he beats him. Such a cutie am i right?

His love language is physical touch and acts of service FOR SURE. Don’t change my mind.

Even though he knows Michael isn’t really dead, he still misses him. He misses Michael TOWNLEY.

He actually cries really often, has lots of breakdowns durning the day. He’s mostly not ashamed of expressing his feelings, although he hates the idea of him being weak. He would bang his head against the wall when he feels like crying in public.

Sometimes he asked the strippers at Vanilla Unicorn to just cuddle with him. He really needs a hug goddamnit.

Would kiss Michael on the forehead after a successful heist. (Sometimes on the lips)

OKAY THATS ALL FOR NOW!!! LET ME KNOW IF YALL WANT A MICHAEL VERSION!!

i swear im gonna start posting more often 😭❤️ I LOVE YALL!!!

#grand theft auto v #gta fanart #gta v headcannon #michael de santa #t/m #trevor phillips #trikey #gta san andreas #headcanon #gta 5 #michael desanta

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rinneroraito · 1 month

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sobering up

almost 3K words, rejection, continuation of this

I actually don’t remember when I woke up, I just realized my eyes were open and I was staring at the off-white ceiling of the headquarters’ office. Dawn was breaking, evident by the soft rays of light coming in through the room by the gaps in the curtains. A sharp pang starts up in my head like I was wearing a crown of thorns around my skull and I wince in pain, hissing as I draw in a slow breath. The blanket that was draped over me falls off of my shoulders while I slowly get up from the couch. Every movement made my eyes go out of focus, the shooting pain setting off flashes of light behind my dry eyes. I never knew even blinking would become laborious in my state.

Fuck, I forgot to hydrate myself last night when I drank…

Turning my neck carefully to the side, I could see a tray with a bottle of sports drink and what seems to be a painkiller on the coffee table. I gingerly reached out to take the drink and the medicine, hoping it would be enough to relieve me of my hangover. The silver casing of the ibuprofen makes a popping sound as I break it and shove the pill between my lips. I finish the entire bottle of sports drink and I lean back into the couch, nursing my headache. The humming of L’s computers and the clacking from his keyboard are the only things I could hear along with my breathing. Concentrating on these sounds I fall asleep again.

—

The sunlight coming through the windows of the office sting my cheeks and I wake up once more, slowly straightening myself up from my position. As I look around with my bleary eyes, I see L at the other side of the room, still working. I grabbed the blanket off of the floor and hung it loosely over the arm of the couch. The pounding in my head from my initial awakening has slightly abated.

Well, I didn't forget what I did last night though, that's for sure. There goes my dignity. Great going, Rinne, you’ve shamelessly confessed to L that you had a crush on him. Why did you even do it? You didn’t even need to drink that much last night, you stupid, stupid girl. Why couldn’t you stay in your room and sleep? What does he think of me now? Does he think that maybe I’m just a fangirl fawning over him? Good lord, am I going to be taken off of this investigation? Fuck…

I don’t even notice myself hunching over with my hands covering my face, palms pressed to my cheeks so hard as if trying to force the embarrassment I felt back into the recesses of my mind where I couldn’t find them.

Goddamnit, Rinne, why are you such an idiot with your feelings… Stupid, stupid alcohol. Stupid, stupid, drunk Rinne… He’s not some ordinary guy, he’s the fucking Greatest Detective in the World, you can’t just willy-nilly go up to him like that and-

“Good morning, Miss Uehara.”

My head snaps up so fast that my mouth hangs open as I look at L. Hearing his voice almost sobered me up, but seeing his stoic face made my ears burn as blood started to rush to my head in mortification. I look away and frantically wipe the corners of my eyes with my fingers, hoping my face looked decent enough to him.

“Good morning, Detective…”

“Are you sober? Is there anything else you need to aid with your hangover or was the Ibuprofen and sports drink enough?”

“I um…” I hesitated before answering, clawing at my hair to smooth it over my shoulder, my eyes distant. “No, I’m good. Thank you.”

“You always seem to hesitate with communicating your needs, Miss Uehara. Does having your necessities catered to make you feel too much like a burden?”

Sometimes I wished he wasn’t as observant and as perceptive as he was, hearing him say it out loud made me want to retort at him but my hangover was keeping my attitude in order.

“Fine, I guess I could have some warm broth, a soda and another sports drink…”

“Soda? For a hangover?”

“It helps with the nausea.”

“Alright, I’ll have Watari bring them up. Please remember not to be reluctant with making your needs known, it’ll make things less complicated for you.” He takes out a phone from his jeans pocket and starts to give instructions to Watari while my mind is still stuck with his last sentence.

That’s easier said than done…

He’s blunt with his words and is indifferent towards how people will take them, and I’m no exception from that kind of treatment. I’m just another one of the Task Force members working with (or more like under) him after all, another tool in his arsenal.

“Thanks, I’ll try to remember that.”

He shoves the phone back into his pocket before leaning towards my direction to speak again.

“How much time do you need to sober up for?”

“I am sober, the ibuprofen is doing its job with the headache.”

“Sober enough to hold a proper conversation with me?”

There it is. The confrontation I’ve been dreading.

My body immediately felt cold as the air in the office seemed to freeze around me. I hadn’t even noticed that I wasn’t looking at his face since I greeted him, realizing my eyes had been glued to the now-empty bottle of sports drink on my hands. My thumb goes over the ridges on the plastic as I begin to feel the thorns around my skull loosen up, not from the painkiller but from this whole interaction we were having.

“You waste no time, do you? Of course you don’t,” I remarked sullenly, still staring at the ridges on the plastic bottle I held.

“I would like to clear the air between us as soon as possible.”

“Yea, I figured.”

“Miss Uehara, please look at me.”

The hesitation is evident from the stretch of silence that extends between the two of us as I continue to scratch at the ridges of the plastic bottle with a nail, refusing to look up at him. I didn’t want him to dig out the shame from my expressions no matter how blank I tried to keep my face, nor did I want him to look at me. Not with those eyes of his.

What he does next surprises me as he crouches down on the floor, tilting his head to the side so he could meet my gaze.

There they are, those sharp unblinking eyes, boring holes through my defensive aversion.

“I can answer you without needing to look at you, Detective…”

“I know, but I’d like to gauge your expressions just to make sure you’re not lying to me.”

I meet his eyes briefly, gritting my teeth.

“Lying by omission is still lying, Miss Uehara.”

You son of a bitch.

With the enthusiasm of a cat being given a bath, I stared back at him, trying my best to match his neutral expression.

“Do you remember what you told me last night?”

“I do.”

“All of it?”

“Yes.”

He looked down for a moment, and when he looked back up at me he had a thumb pressed to his lips.

“Miss Uehara, are you actually infatuated with me, or was it just a case of drunken rambling?”

The crunch of the empty plastic bottle tears through the morning silence as my grip on it tightens. Fuck. I straighten myself up on the couch, wringing the poor bottle with both hands now in an attempt to keep myself emotionally intact. I wanted to answer, but no words came out. I wasn’t even looking at him again; my eyes stayed on the now-mangled piece of plastic that used to be a bottle of sports drink. I feel like throwing up.

“Miss Uehara-”

He sounded too close and I whipped my head to the side to see that he had perched himself next to me. His proximity caused me to flinch back, keeping a significant amount of space between us.

“Answer my question, please.”

L is persistent, unbearably stubborn, and for the few weeks that I’ve worked with him I know now that I can’t just drop this conversation. He won’t let it go until he gets the truth out of me.

“Fine,” I started, peering back into his piercing stare apprehensively.

“I am infatuated with you, Detective. What are you going to do about it?”

There was a scathing quality to the way I said the last sentence. Why was I so angry about this whole situation anyway? Is it actually anger or just annoyance over the fact that my confession came out severely underprepared out of a drunken impulse, and I have to face the consequences of it now?

He observes me unblinkingly as he brings his thumb between his teeth and gnaws at it for a moment before speaking again. “I see. Miss Uehara, allow me to be completely honest with you.”

The couch gives just a little when he leans closer to me. I felt my breath hold, my hands growing clammy around the mangled plastic bottle.

“Do not be mistaken, I am flattered that you find me as someone you could be fond of, even though I am now questioning your taste in men. That aside, I am in no place to return your affection, as I do not feel the same.”

The breath I had been holding comes out as a gasp. Was it out of relief? Shock? I wasn’t sure, but I started to laugh.

What was I expecting? That he’d entertain me just because I liked him? We’re in the middle of a fucking investigation that literally spells life or death for everyone involved and here I was, hoping that he felt the same? Oh, oh… I’m laughing because this whole thing was funny, and I was being stupid. He probably thinks I’ve gone mad.

The poor Detective looked bewildered by my reaction as I tried to pull myself together, raising a finger at him to give me a minute.

“Sorry, sorry. You’re right. Um, it’s stupid, isn’t it? But yeah, don’t worry about it, you don’t need to return my feelings nor acknowledge them, we’ve got more pressing matters on our hands.”

“I am sensing a hint of passive aggression in your tone.”

“Just-” I squeezed my cheeks with my palms before I continued speaking. “Listen to me, Detective. I think part of the reason I came here last night and did what I did was because I wanted to get that off of my chest no matter how you’d take it. I did it drunk because I knew deep down I’d never feel brave enough to admit any of that to you while sober. Confronting me about it now is jarring, to say the least, because it’s something I decided to do on impulse without any thought. It’s also hard for me to explain to you that the truth is, I just started pouring my heart out to you because I was drunk and it felt…right.”

Our conversation gets briefly interrupted by Watari who arrives with a tray of the items L requested from earlier. He silently sets them down on the coffee table before us, takes the blanket from the arm of the couch where I hung it, nods and then leaves. I took this small break as an opportunity to grab the new bottle of sports drink and take a few swigs from it. L looks away for a moment, chewing on the nail of his thumb. Everything probably gets rolled around in his mind a hundred times before he decides on the most logical explanation to an incident, and I wonder… Is that why he keeps eating sweets at work, to keep his brain running? What does he think of when he’s not busy trying to solve a case? Is he doing the same thing with my “confession”? He just outright told me that he does not feel the same. Am I actually taking his rejection well? What else am I expecting?

What am I expecting?

“I feel like I’m not making sense and I’m just rambling again. Sorry.”

“Don’t be, I understand. At least, I understand what you’re trying to convey.”

“Okay… Sure?”

“It’s not stupid, Miss Uehara, and I value your straightforwardness. You’ve also told me last night that you might start to feel awkward around me due to your confession, so I assume they really are your honest feelings. You were the very first person to approach me and express your sentiments about me outside of my investigative work. To be honest, I would still like to ask you out, that hasn’t changed from the first time I met you but the circumstances we’re currently in will not allow us such a dalliance…”

L pauses, thumbing his bottom lip. My eyes stay locked on his as rays of sunlight pass through the gaps in the curtains. The light scattered on one side of his face, and I could feel the heat on my cheek, too. It takes me a while to realize what he just said and I now question if the warmth I was feeling on my cheeks were from the sunlight or the blood rushing to my face. My legs start to bounce.

Oh …

“When I said I did not feel the same way about you, I meant that whatever you might be feeling towards me is something I cannot reciprocate at the moment. I find you attractive, and I am impressed by your abilities as an investigator, but I do not feel the way you do about me, and I believe a certain amount of reciprocity is required for two people to connect. You deserve that much, and I am not the person for that.”

He held my gaze steadily while he spoke and he looked away as soon as he finished, thumbing his bottom lip. My face was burning at this point and I brought a hand up to squeeze my cheeks together, placing the bottle of sports drink back on the table. Unspoken words hang in the air of the morning for a few moments, the silence so thick it was almost palpable. I glance at the World’s Greatest Detective whose elbows rested on his knees, still deep in thought.

“Thank you for your honesty, Detective,” I finally replied.

“You’re welcome.” “Now I wish I could have taken you up on your offer that first time we met. Maybe things would be different now.”

“There’s no use crying over spilled milk, Miss Uehara.”

“I know, Detective, I know. I’ll just enjoy whatever time I get to spend with you, I guess.”

He looks back at me, his piercing eyes a mysterious dark lake I’m trying to wade into.

“Just because you rejected me doesn’t mean I’ll stop liking you immediately, you know? It takes a while for feelings to disappear,” I continue.

“You’ll be hurt.”

“I’m hurt now.”

For some reason, the statement appears to have caught him off guard, and he takes his time responding.

“I’m sorry,” he says, and I wonder if it was genuine or something just out of his accustomed courtesy.

“It’s part of the entire thing, not exactly new to me.”

“Why would you willingly put yourself in a situation where you’ll be hurt? Is the payoff truly worthwhile for something as risky as a romantic relationship?”

My eyes trail off to the bowl of warm broth I had requested earlier and I take it with both hands, sipping directly from it completely disregarding the spoon that came with it.

“Because it’s exciting, fulfilling to me in a way and in my experience, yes. It is worth it.”

I could feel him staring at me as I pondered over the bowl before taking a few more sips from it. Then I realized something from the question he just asked.

He’s never been in a relationship before, has he?

The bowl feels warm on my palms as I return my gaze to L.

“You’ve never been romantically involved with someone, Detective?”

“No, I never had the time to nurture one. It would be pointless as I’d only be neglecting them due to my work.”

“Hm, that makes sense. There’s also the danger attached to being connected to you, and becoming a liability.”

There’s a solemn quality to his expression as he nods.

Was this a man who has completely accepted his lonely fate of solving crime because it’s what he liked to do and was good at? Was Watari the only constant human connection he’s had his whole life? Did he really just spend most of his time solving crime after crime, mystery after mystery? Was he never really going to take a chance at…

Rinne, stop it.

Why are you still hoping? Stop it.

We’re silent for a while. My legs stop bouncing momentarily as I settle the now empty bowl of broth back on the coffee table. I then grab the can of soda and crack it open, the pop and fizz ringing out in the warmth and awkwardness of the atmosphere.

“Are you feeling better?” He asks in his familiar monotone.

“Yeah, sobering up,” I reply, bringing the can up to my mouth.

The soda wasn’t cold enough.

#death note #l lawliet #death note l #l death note #l my beloved #oc x canon #l lawliet x reader #whipquip #RinneL #l lawliet x y/n #fanfiction #death note fanfiction

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nowmemoriees · 2 years

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MIKE WON'T STOP WHINING ABOUT IT

- analysis using ST4 E1 and Eleven's letter

In episode 8, when El sees the Hawkins group trying to call to Lenora, we hear Dustin saying this: "I told you, Joyce has this new telemarketer job. She's always on the phone, Mike won't stop whining about it."

This single phrase says A LOT about how things were going before the spring break (and how they'll go after that)

So, returning to Episode 1, we can see Mike reading El's letter the day before he travelled to Cali. (makes sense, because El wrote and sent it just a few days before the spring break, and Mike probably received it days later).

He received A LOT of new information here. After that, we see him in a bad mood. (At first, he was also in a hurry, but after that, his face didn't change at school.) Did you read something you didn't like, Michael?

I mean, wasn't he supposed to be happy?

Then, Dustin and Mike knew that Lucas wouldn't be able to participate in the DnD campaign that night, so they had to find a replacement for him.

Mike and Dustin spent that whole day together.

At some point, Mike talked to Dustin about the letter. (How would Dustin know about Joyce's new job otherwise?) And they definitely talked about Will.

But Dustin doesn't know everything. He just knows what Mike wanted him to know.

Probably, when they were looking for a replacement for Lucas, one of them mentioned something like It would be easier if Will was here. (which also makes sense, because when Max was drawing her visions, Dustin could not understand the drawings, so he said "God, we need Will!". He always thinks about him)

That's when Mike told him about Joyce's new job, which El mentioned in her most recent letter. (Now I know why Will didn't pick up the phone. Now I understand)

But Mike also knew about this secret painting Will was working on for someone he liked. (But he didn't even call me back, so he probably doesn't care. He just forgot about me, about us. He's more interested in another person now). We don't know if he told Dustin about this. (personally, I don't think so)

But if he did, things are going to get TASTY, because Dustin never forgets.

Then, the next day, Mike arrived at California, acting like a 100% different "cool" person (even when he spent the whole previous day thinking about DnD, come on, be serious, Michael)

He doesn't hug Will back, however, he dares to ask Will about the painting he was holding. Will barely says something about it, he was upset. (Oh, so the painting is a secret and it's not for me. Cool)

Then they go to the Rink O' Mania. Will feels so miserable. Like a third wheel.

El gets bullied by Angela and her friends, and Mike reproaches Will why he didn't tell him about those problems. Will gets angry (How am I supposed to tell you if we barely talked?)

Mike complains about Will sabotaging the day, because he was moping and rolling his eyes. (My gf was getting bullied but I was paying more attention you and your terrible mood. I don't know what's happening to you, so talk to me goddamnit)

Will reproaches Mike about him never calling. He also mentions that El has a book of letters from him.

He thinks Mike doesn't care anymore about him.(That's just not true!). Mike thinks the same too, because will never called back. (Why am I the bad guy?)

Only Mike and Dustin (and probably Lucas) knew at that moment how many times Mike tried to call Will. But he won't mention it. Let's just find El.

(Oh, so he wanted me to call him. He did miss me)

Miscommunication trope in its maximum splendor.

Chaotic day.

The following day, Mike talks to Will and they make up. He apologizes and opens up. (Last year has been weird without you. I felt like I lost you or something. Hawkins is not the same without you. = I miss you, I need you.)

This enlightens Will. His hopes raise up and he takes the painting, thinking about taking that risk. (We know he ended up using the painting to save Mil3ven's relationship, but he lied)

(I knew the mf painting was for me. It had to be)

Then we come back to Dustin. He told the entire group what El told Mike in her letter.

"I told you, Joyce has this telemarketer job"

He had already mentioned it before.

"She's always on the phone. Mike won't stop whining about it."

Now everyone even EL knows that Mike tried to call so many times. Everyone except Will.

Argyle would say the dominoes are going to fall.

This little conversation gave us so many hints about Mike's behavior at the beggining of season 4 and probably about some things that may happen on s5.

- Mike and Dustin talked about Will before he travelled to California.

- Dustin knows how many times Mike tried to call and how upset he was.

- Lucas also knows how Mike behaves when it comes to Will (ex: after the rain fight)

- Everyone in the group know that Mike tried to call to Lenora before.

- Dustin may know about Will painting for someone he likes if Mike mentioned it.

We thought about Mike finding out about Will's lie, but we didn't talk enough about this huge possibility of Will finding out about Mike's calls.

Better, what if they both find out!

#byler #stranger things #st4 #byler is real #will byers #byler s4 #will x mike #byler tumblr #theories analysis

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rainofthetwilight · 2 months

Note

Hey Levi sorry that I’m absolutely yapping it up in your inbox about evil Arin but I HAVE MORE THOUGHTS

When he’s faced with Sora again, she’s not taking it seriously at first. Bc like, she doesn’t know he switched sides, in her point of view he just kind of,,,,went missing and that made her extremely scared because it happened right after he found out she had used her power to make it LOOK LIKE he’d done object Spinjitzu and she was so scared he’d gone and done something drastic, so when she sees him again she is SO filled with relief and doesn’t really question uhhhhh why he disappeared and just starts trying to get him to come back with her. But he’s still like. Pissed off and is fully preparing to fight her, and she’s kinda laughing it off like ‘Come on, we both know I could beat you in a fight. Don’t do this let’s just go home :)’ and he’s like ‘not anymore. Now that you and the ninja aren’t holding me back I’ve actually been able to get better.’ And she’s STILL not taking him seriously until he actually hurts her and she switches to defense mode and is extremely upset and crying and saying she doesn’t want to hurt him and apologizing to him and AUGH

Thinking about it makes me so sad and I have to inflict that on you :(

MASON I HAVE ONE QUESTION. WHY.

UGHSHDHNSNDMAMFJSDBSKSJFHJAJJSJADN OH MY GOD.....OH MY GODDJSJJFMSMMFMSKDKS

UGHHDHDHDJSJ WHEN SHE THOUGHT ARIN FINALLY CAME BACK...SHE DIDN'T KNOW HE SWITCHED SIDES SHE DIDN"T KNOW NDJDKKEWL

IMAGINE LIKE SHE MAYBE CATCHED SMTH DIFFERENT ABT HIM BUT WAS IN DISBELIEF...AND SHE COULDN'T TAKE IT SERIOUSLY...HSHSJJDKSJJSJ DUDE

HE'S JUST FULL OF ANGER AND PAIN, AND WANTS TO INFLICT THEM ONTO HER...AND SHE DOESN'T WANT TO BELIEVE IT...NOT UNTIL HE HURT HER AGSHHDDJJEJWJSJSJSJS I AM GOINF INSANE

SHE DOESN'T WANNA HURT HIM, BUT HE DEFINITELY DOES....

IT'S JUST SO AHAGDDHJSNS GODDAMNIT

I just. Might as well make a drawing for this. I am so insane AGHDJS

#ALSO DON'T APOLOGIZE ABT YAPPING IN MY INBOX!!!#I actually love it so much when u guys do that hdhjdjs SEND ME ALL YOUR THOUGHTS!!!!!#but ougj. Ouch. PAINSBDJDJSJJS #ninjago #ninjago dragons rising #ninjago spoilers #dragons rising spoilers #levi's asks #ty for the ask!#gravy/mason tag #ninjago arin

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docholligay · 3 months

Text

The Lies of Locke Lamora by Scott Lynch

Nonspoilery: This is a super fun read that is very much in keeping with how I like my fantasy. I wish it were slightly more on the con man side, but I recognize that those are very difficult to write because one needs to actually be clever enough to come up with the insanely clever plan that unfolds, and, you know what, I'm not there either. But it absolutely is a fun crimey fantasy novel, well written that expects you can actually follow a line of description and maybe even look up a big word, that tries very hard not to bore you with needing to refer to a glossary or map.

I will say, and I'll talk about this more below: There are basically no women in this novel. it's a little disappointing. I still overall think it's worth it if you like this sort of thing though.

SPOILERS BELOW:

THIS is the kind of thing pitchless draw was made for. You could not have talked me into reading this book. Unless you possess an incredible skill--I'm not sure *I* could have talked me into reading this book, and supposedly no one knows me better.

But I did really enjoy myself. This is a flat out FUN novel, that doesn't mind being long but never feels long. I LOVED the long bits of description in this book, I BEG for flavor in some many modern novels that strip away anything that isn't an immediate moving of the ball. Actually, one of the things I would say that's not a criticism so much as a preference, is that I feel like this book, and probably this writer, remembering his short story from Rogues, is more plot-driven than character driven. I am a girl who loves a really interior novel, and this isn't that, but it did not stop me from having a GREAT time. It's a romp.

I like Locke, and his whole backstory. I wish he were a woman. Specifically, I would love to see a femme con artist, second coming of Minako Aino, Becky Sharp ass bitch. THAT would be my dream for Locke Lamora. And I know my friends who have read this book all want butch Locke and I love that for you, and I know y'all have known me long enough to know I love a butch, but I deserve a treat as well, and I LOVE con artists, and goddamnit, if I could change one thing about this novel, Locke Lamora would be a femme lesbian and I would change NOTHING else. You wouldn't even have to. One fo the great things about Lynch not being a real interior writer is literally any of the mains could be a woman and it would change nothing.

This does segue into the big problem here--there's no women in this novel. It's a 700 page book and I could condense the lines said by women into like two or three pages. I actually DO get it. I think we're reaping a little bit of what we've sown, as a community, with the requirement for perfection in our representation that leads to very boring and safe choices. Everyone is a man. We're only swarthy at best. Can't be criticized for bad identity writing if you don't write them at all! ANd this isn't me being salty, I get how that happens, I have also sometimes fallen into making any character of identity boring as fuck or not writing them at all to avoid any criticism. And no one cares about ME, I'm not a best seller. I do think, maybe, people will get better about this. Pendulums and all. I miss the awkward, good faith 90s where you had the United Colors of Benetton and one character who randomly celebrated Hanukkah. We'll see.

ANYHOW NOT RELEVANT. But I do find it irritating that because of this, we don't see women in this huge story at all. None of the gang, even though it would have been easy as fuck to make, say, Bug a girl. Even doing something like making Nazca Barsavi the actual heir apparent, and to have her marrying Locke because she knows he won't try to be Capa, and she'll let him do whatever the fuck he wants, can play the henpecked husband while being the Thorn of Camorr, could be really fun and would do more for Nazca and also play up their friendship. It could make her death mean a lot more, if they were running their own little Barsavi con.

Anyhow, the really fantastic behind the scenes worldbuilding was how I wish more fantasy novels did it. It didn't often try to explain things to me, it spoke as if I mostly understood them, or had cahracters say them in ways that made sense to the story (In this capacity, Lukas Fehrwright is fucking BRILLIANT as Someone That Must Have Camorr Explained). So I didn't feel like I was being sat down and told the history of a place I barely know, while having stupid fucking vocabulary words thrown at me. We never define any physik or magic beyond what needs be done because fuck you that's why. I love it. Thank you for not telling me what alchemical botany can or can't do. Thank you for dropping literally only what I need to kjnow about wraithstone into the plot. You have a crown in heaven.

Or I know I said I wish it would have been more con-ny and less "kill the new mob boss" at the end there, but oh my fuck, how much did I love the whole job at the counting house. I SCREAMED. It was so good, I had no clue where it was going the whole time and I would never have gotten there, but I LOVED it. What a great time.

One...weakness, for me, I guess I'll say, is that lack of interiority makes it hard to really feel the weight of some things. We don't get enough about Galdo, Calo, or Bug to feel anything for them, and I knew Bug was dead from the time he showed up. Actually, I thought we were going to kill jean Tannen, because that was the only relationship REALLY laden with emotional weight in the book. Didn't bother me enough to not recommend the book, as I'm mostly recommending it on fun, but I did notice.

ANYWAY, uh...any specific questions I'm happy to take!

Unfortunately, this means that @verbforverb nabbed me again. So, I had a great time reading the book but at what cost

#Doc reads

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zkoh001 · 10 months

Text

All the ninjago kiddos! That I remembered, lol.

Also I'm not sure if Echo counts, but this is my art soooo... He does now

Fun fact, way before Dragons rising was an idea, I had a little theory/AU thingie, where the ninja got sent to another realm, where time passed differently. (How funny, it was way before SotFS...) So basically these kids formed a replacement ninja team to fight the evils treathening ninjago, discovering they themselves are elemental masters. And that's been in my brain, slowly adding all the new kiddos to it. Might make some art, and a post about that too, because I would love to draw them.

Here's my spitballing on these dummies and their designs.

The Darkleys kids!

The little shits. They would be the ones to have kidnapping as their first resolve.

- I kinda didn't know Sally existed, but I liked all the art, so she does now. Also, she loves pink, I love pink, we all love pink

- Brad is definitely the muscle of the group, with a big heart, but not the greatest mind. Also, he has a babyface, that's very hard to make look evil.

- His design kinda grew on me with time, but it still feels a bit lacking...

- There's this theory that Gene is Skylor's brother, and Chen's son, that I kinda absorbed into my brain and ran with it so yeah.

-Also, the hand thingie is not a glove, it helps hold his hand together after a nasty injury :)

- The bowlcut was uniform at Darkleys, but Gene was such a nightmare they just gave up with him.

- They have matching pins and earpieces. Cause of course they do. Also, dumbo boots uniform.

The Paperkids!

Antonia and Nelson are a given, and I just kinda added Unagami on there, since he waved at them once. Also, I think it would be cute if they were friends.

- I know he doesn't anymore, canonically, but I like to think he still wears his purple gi under the jumper. Who knows when someone will need the purple ninja?

- He has a scar from the injury he had when he met with the ninja. Also, am I the only one who tought something much worse was going on than a broken leg? Obviously a kid show can't have a terminally ill kid, but fsm that's still how I remembered it.

- Antonia! I loved drawing her hair. Also kinda like her badass big sis vibes.

- She has her hands out to make sure the two kids, but mainly Nelson, don't go missing somehow (happens more often than you think)

- Even if he can shapeshift, I like to tjink Unagami keeps his line-marks in whatever forms, since it's apart of his skin. He can hide them, but it takes effort, so he just doesn't bother.

- He can change his form generally, but you could still tell it's him by the lines, eyes, and hair

- He has a little nick in his eyebrow, and so does (did i guess) Jay. I just think that's a cute detail

The Forgotten ones...

Just called that cause I had to add them on a separate canvas after forgetting them. I forgot Skales Jr, shame on me, I tought Jake and Nelson were one character, and I was still debating Echo. But here they are!

- It was surprisingly not that hard to draw him, even tho I was very scared

- Since he has white on him, I was trying (and failing miserably) to replicate those partially albino reptiles. Also added some pink scales, since he is also Selma's son, who's pink.

- I don't know to this day why Echo was introduced only to be left behind.... Nevertheless he's a sweetheart

- I guess if you count Mr.E, but then he would be dead... Unless the kids fix him (lightbulb moment)

- Also, ahy is his head weirdly tiny? How did that happen?

- Jake. Goddamnit, how were you the hardest to draw? Somehow I couldn't get the head right...

- The giant pants is an idea that lived in my head. I like yo think he would be able to fix ancient artifacts with hairties, ductape, and sheer force of will.

- He might have a bowlcut, but cmon, are you telling me he wouldn't at least try to replicate whatever the hell Kai's hair was in the beginning?

I guess that's it folks, lemme know if any of you are interested in my weird Ninja kids au thingie!

#ninjago #ninjago sally #ninjago gene #ninjago brad #brad tudabone #ninjago nelson #lil' nelson #ninjago antonia #ninjago unagami #unagami #ninjago skales jr #skales jr #echo zane #ninjago echo #ninjago jake #ninjago kids #ninja kiddos!#I also have elemental powers and colors assigned to most of them!

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thecheshirerat · 10 months

Text

Dear Aubrey

(danbrey fic for @tazsapphicweek ! this has been so fun. I'll put it on AO3 if anyone wants, but idk how collections work. also the prompt was technically "home" but I've done like three based on that prompt so...)

Dear Aubrey,

Do you know how many casserole dishes I’ve washed for the privilege of control over the TV? Jake said that if I keep putting on Supernatural I’ll owe him three bags of the fancy squid chips he likes just for his suffering.

That’s not it.

Dear Aubrey,

I’ve been watching Supernatural. You were right, it’s pretty good.

Dammit.

No.

Dear Aubrey,

They didn’t have TV shows in Sylvain. You know that. You’ve been there. But of the three that I’ve encountered so far, Supernatural seems pretty good. Definitely better than streaming old episodes of America's Test Kitchen, which is all Barclay wants to watch.

FUCK.

Dear Aubrey,

Do you know how many perfectly good sketchbook pages I’ve spent, trying to draft a proper letter to you?

I know you’re not, like. Living far away. You’re going to be back in a few hours, actually, probably, unless you’re killed, but I don’t think you will be, and then you’ll eat something terrible for you and pass out like, two floors above me.

Maybe I could pass this to you through the vents.

Did you know that passing notes between bunk beds is common to both our worlds? Sometimes I imagine you’re in the bunk above me, and we could just, talk. In the darkness. About everything.

The truth is, I’ve got a lot to say. But you’re not here, so I’m writing it down. In my sketchbook. I really should buy a notebook or something.

Goddamnit.

I could’ve sketched so many cedar branches on this.

Dear Aubrey,

This is going to sound insane, but you smell like home. A little smoky, a little like flash-paper, but there’s also this strong ginger smell. That part is familiar. It’s orange and spicy and makes my teeth flinch in their illusion.

When you walked by the other day it felt like every spark of heat in my body rushed towards you, like there’s a current between us. What do you guys call it, bird bumps?

For a moment, I was just, frozen. And then you looked over my shoulder at the vase of flowers I was drawing and said something like, “Oh my gosh, that’s so cool!” And you joked that I could make hundreds of dollars online if I drew Deacon Winchester. Your hand brushed my shoulder, and all the warmth came back, just like that.

I’ve never felt anything like it.

Well, I have. You know about the crystal, right? It felt kind of like touching that.

God, Dani. Don’t bring that into this.

Dear Aubrey,

I’ve spent so long trying not to stand out.

I can have my identity, so long as it's quiet enough that no one looks too closely.

I can doodle on the cover of my sketchbook. I can be the quirky alt girl who doesn’t have her license at the age of… what age do I tell people. I don’t even remember. I can stare into the mirror, smiling at the freckles that show up on my nose, and people will forgive me for not wearing makeup, but they can’t see my skin when it glows, they can’t see my teeth. They must never see my teeth.

You, on the other hand. Your flashy gestures, your vibrant hair, your jacket that you can barely see under all the pins. When you walk, they clink, alerting people (people whose skin didn’t tingle the moment you arrived, people who are not me) that you’re here. You’ve got an identity strong and colorful enough to be armor. You wear your teeth on the outside.

I want to know what’s under all that. Not to be- nevermind.

I want to know what it’s all protecting.

Or maybe, it’s protecting us.

Dear Aubrey,

I miss Sylvain a lot.

It’s hard to describe the feeling of missing your former planet. It’s like an ache, but sharper. It’s hard, and scratchy, and it eats a cavern inside of me. It’s empty in here. It tingles. My pain chimes, and the chimes echo.

It chafes at you, when the world you’re in is not yours. I don’t belong here, and Earth has no qualms about reminding me. Alien customs. Alien holidays. Alien people, but… not so much you.

It went away, the other day, when you touched me. Just for a second, I was full.

In that second, I felt so free. I felt so untethered. I felt like I could go and be anywhere as long as it was with you. So, not untethered. Re-tethered.

Sometimes I imagine there’s a string between us, and when I see you fidgeting with your fingers, it’s being pulled, looped and tied. I want you to make me into jewelry, to set me around your neck. I want to swing there, next to that gemstone you always wear. I want your heartbeat to warm my skin.

To be a vampire is to know that you are empty, and that other people fill you up.

Here you are, with all this vitality. If I soaked myself in it, if I tucked myself like a bunny rabbit into your arms, if I bottled up vials of flame to warm my bath and make my tea, would you even notice? I don’t want to hurt anyone. Sometimes I feel like I’m scraping away at the walls of a cave inside me, and one day my willpower will collapse. I keep shoring up my inhibitions.

Why does it feel like I’ve awoken from the most restful sleep of my life after talking to you? Why do I feel relieved when you brush my arm? I just want to close my eyes. I want to take off this disguise. I want to follow you.

God, I barely even know you.

This is so weird. I’m sorry.

Dear Aubrey,

I have one episode left of season five of Supernatural. I thought I’d take your advice about stopping there. And now I get the joke you made about chevy impalas!

Do you want to watch the last episode together?

Love,

Sincerely,

Yours,

Dani <3

PS: See on the back my drawing of Dr. Harris Bonkers :)

#THE REASON ITS DEACON WINCHESTER IS A REFERENCE TO TAZ SPIRITBREAKERS I THINK ITD BE REALLY FUNNY IF THEY WERE THE SAME UNIVERSE #anyway #strongly considered drawing dr harris bonkers to accompany this and then attaching it to the post but if I do that it'll be not right now #cheshi squeaks #danbrey #aubrey little #taz #taz amnesty #taz dani #taz sapphic week

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satashiiwrites · 1 year

Text

F it Friday writing/from a fic i’m totally definitely not writing

I have to go to a work party tonight (joy) but i’m procrastinating by putting this scene down as it’s been stuck in my head.

For the record… i now have three scenes half-written… and it’s one each from Mass Effect 1, Mass Effect 2 and Mass Effect 3.

Goddamnit plot bunny…. Can’t you give me a break??

Title: The First Spectre (aka previously known as untitled 911/Mass Effect space opera slowburn) a chapter somewhere in the back third of the story that would fit in ME3 if you’re keeping track. Might end up have ME1=the first spectre, ME2=Spectre Reborn and ME3=The Second Spectre…. But who knows.

Fandom: 911, Mass Effect Trilogy

Pairing: endgame Buddie (MShenko equivalent). Assume anything else is fair game until we hit ME3 territory because i’m totally making Taylor into Miranda and Abby is going to be Liara.

Tags/warnings: i’m still not committing to writing this monster length fic(and I do mean monster length if I go for it—like 600k of the slowest of slow burns). In the meantime i’m evidently writing a beginning, a divorce-era horizon disaster, and can clearly picture the catalyst firing/’don’t leave me behind’ scene in all its angsty goodness and now i’m adding the actual ‘i’m here to help you relax scene. Author may be in deep trouble. First draft with zero editing done. Assume Eddie=Kaidan Alenko and Buck=MShep.

Tagging because they asked @shortsighted-owl, @monsterrae1 @ajunerose @alyxmastershipper If you would like to be tagged for any updates or snippets from this one please let me know.

This scene inspired by this MShenko scene

To Eddie’s surprise, the door opens before he can knock or ask MADDIE to let Buck know he’s outside. Buck almost walks right into Eddie, his gaze fixed on the datapad in his hands.

“Eds?” Buck’s eyes are even bluer in the blue light from the aquarium that takes up the entire wall of the captain’s quarters, stepping to the side when he realizes that they’re almost chest to chest. “What are you—“

Eddie easily slips past him. “Can’t sleep either?” He throws over his shoulder, inspecting Buck’s room for the first time officially. It’s nice—if completely impractical on a battle frigate like the Normandy. He suppresses the irritation that Cerberus thought to provide this sort of creature comfort with the hope of enticing Buck into their way of thinking. Eddie has more than enough hard proof that Buck is on his side and not Cerberus’, otherwise he’d be dead from a bullet instead of Noah.

No more thinking of maybes. That’s what Eddie had told himself before coming up to Buck’s quarters.

He needed to know.

No more what if’s.

Buck sets the datapad down on his desk which is cluttered with the things along with a pair of used coffee cups from the mess. Above the desk are a collection of model ships—just like Buck had on the original Normandy. One of the ships was the Los Angelas—the last city they’d taken leave in before the Normandy Disaster had seemingly killed Buck and left Eddie to mourn his death and spend years thinking of what ifs.

“No,” Buck finally answers the question, arms crossed over his chest as he watches Eddie inspect his office.

“You can’t make yourself crazy over this,” Eddie tells him, fiddling with the bottle and glasses in his hands. ‘It won’t help.”

“What won’t? I can’t know for sure that I didn’t miss something. Eds,” Buck draws out his name, huffing a bit in frustration and rubbing his face in fatigue. “I need to get back to work.”

Eddie makes a noise of disagreement in the back of his throat. “Five minutes. Just one drink and then I’ll go,” he stalls for time, gesturing towards the low slung couch in the sitting area next to the bed, under the fish tank.

For a brief second, Buck holds out and then he’s sighing and giving in, unable to resist Eddie’s offer “One drink,” he cautions as he takes a seat next to Eddie.

Eddie pours him a generous finger or two or five and hands it to Buck who sniffs at it appreciatively before giving a sip. “You know you’ve done everything you could, right?”

Buck stares at the whiskey like it has the answers to the universe in it’s amber depths. “Everything? It doesn’t feel like it. I hope so. I keep running the numbers and scenarios, wondering if I missed something. If I could have saved one more person.”

“You don’t have to take this on yourself,” Eddie soothes, taking a drink of his own before reaching out to wrap his hand around Buck’s wrist. There’s tension in the muscles and then they relax purposefully as Buck watches him from beneath lowered lashes. Rubbing his fingertips along the tendons in a caress, Eddie tries to find the words he needs. “You’ve got a great crew you’ve built. Talented people that are all fighting by your side.”

Buck pulls away and throws back the entire glass of whiskey before getting up and beginning to pace, putting distance between them. It’s like watching a panther stalking in front of the bars of it’s cage—lethal grace wrapped in an N7 hoodie and uniform pants, feet bare and silent on the rubber mat floors. There’s a scowl on his face but it’s not focused on Eddie, but within and it hurts Eddie that Buck doesn’t realize how much he’s done because to him nothing short of ridding the galaxy of the Reapers will be acceptable.

Eddie steps into Buck’s path, making him stop. Taking a deep breath, he moves to rest his hands on Buck’s hips.

Buck stills under the touch, frown melting away but there’s still a deep furrow between the eyebrows that betrays the stress that he’s under. Eddie doesn’t resist the impulse to smooth it away and rubs his right thumb across it before cupping Buck’s unshaven cheek so he can’t look away. There’s faint bruising under both eyes from the lack of sleep but the blue eyes are luminous and laser focused like the sniper he is on Eddie. The hip under his other hand shifts, pressing into Eddie’s touch and decreasing the space between their bodies seemingly without awareness because Eddie has it all now.

He has Buck’s complete and full attention.

Picking his words carefully, Eddie tells him that he’s enough. “What you’ve accomplished since the Reapers arrived has been nothing short of amazing. You saved so many people, brought so many together in this fight,” he paused, then made it personal. “You saved Christopher… and you saved me, too.”

Buck breathes out through his nose sharply, an almost wounded sound escaping him. “I couldn’t leave either of you,” he confesses, moving closer but there’s still just a tiny amount of space between their bodies. “What are you doing here, Eddie?”

“I lied,” he admitted, voice dropping a bit into more of a husky confession. “I didn’t just come for a drink.”

“What did you come here for?” Buck is holding his breath, waiting on his words.

“I’m here to help you,” Eddie’s words stumble out of him, tongue tying itself into knots.

“Help me?” Buck’s eyebrows are climbing, confusion evident in his voice but he hasn’t withdrawn. They’re still so close but not close enough.

“Help you relax.”

Eddie is never going to win awards for pickup lines but Buck seems to understand what he’s trying to say, if very badly. His fingers seem to have a life of their own and Buck sways closer to him as he slips his hand around Buck’s waist to tug him closer.

“Relax?” Buck’s pink tongue swipes at his bottom lip, eyes dropping to Eddie’s mouth.

“Relaxing will help you focus,” Eddie informs him before he can’t say anything further because Buck’s mouth is pressed to his.

The kiss is gentle at first, tentative like they’re both asking the other for permission to proceed. When neither pulls away it becomes more persistent and then a curious tongue traces the seam of Eddie’s mouth and he’s opening to let Buck’s tongue tangle with his own.

When they part finally to inhale, Eddie is chuckling into Buck’s neck, pressing a quick kiss to the jawline. Buck is frozen against him, like he’s afraid that he’s going to startle Eddie and he’ll flee like a wild animal.

“Eds?”

In response, all he can do is to pull Buck back in for another hungry kiss.

#the first spectre #buck is Mshep #eddie is Kaidan alenko #buddie —> mshenko #911/mass effect AU #evan buckley #eddie diaz #first draft #from fics i may never write #goddamnit plot bunnies #this is going to be long #911 fic #buddie #buddie fic #author is going to be in the back cursing #and is in need of some whiskey herself #space opera au #buddie space opera

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crispycookedcat · 1 year

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"All Good Things End..."

He would say casually while swirling a petri dish lightly in his unscarred palm, digits clung onto the short walls of plexiglass in soft delight. "Did you know that, Edward? Good things come to pass, no?", he whispered out to the air before abruptly turning to face his guest. The man gagged and bound having been quiet thus far for the past several minutes that dragged on betwixt them both. He would click his tongue, grey optics sparing his body a once over before turning back with an unanswered question. It was rather amusing, to see him go from rambling on for hours to being silent. His silence was usually unsettling to him, well, in the past of course. Before any of this occurred, before any incidents, any need to "strike it big", before he even considered being the leader of an aggressively powerful army that had spanned out into several takeover operations, failed zombification trials, and of course the rare monster outbreaks. So many coups were held, so many rebellions repressed, a lot of cohesion, bribes, deceit, /murder/, all such delicate and hard painstaking work. While he was planning utopia, /he/ just had to go out and put forks in his way. Really? A zombie-run and themed amusement park? Openly allowing mutations? Unsolicited use of public property and unwarranted destruction of his own personal robot and near murder? Well, that last part was on himself. He did technically fuck that up on his own. Goddamnit. "You know, Edd," the Norwegian starts with a slow pander towards his unconscious friend, middle-aged body strapped into place with tough leather restraints, "I missed having conversations with you lot. Matthias, Thomas, you. The hijinks we would get into, teasing our neighbors, fighting our movie theater clones, visiting Hell, joining the army, ironic isn't it." "I never thought to believe I could have had as much fun as you made it out to be. And then some when I left, too. You went and got irradiated, becoming neigh powerful, being able to fly like the superhero you wished to become." He would drag on, preparing and sterilizing thread and needle to stitch his old friend back up. "You know, I think it is pretty kind of you to do something like that. Like Matt and his vampirism, or Tom and his inner demon. Because now I get to study you all up close! Think about it, an army ready to enforce all things good with your help. Your blood, Matt's blood, Tom's blood. It's embedded in you. My final steps to release this corruption with a fine-toothed pick." He would say, moving to stitch the other arm and fetch bandages in the overhead cabinets. "All it took was nearly 20 years of constant squabbles. Speaking of, I've missed many personal celebrations with you lot, yeah? Who's birthday was it last, was it, Thomas'?" He would grow quiet as he would bring the bandages to the counters to cut and measure while prepping some towels and alcohol. His brow would arch down, his marred face frowning in heavy thought as he brushed the soft gauze and wrap with a calloused thumb. "It was difficult doing things alone, Edd. But with this, I have a start and a subject in mind. I really couldn't have done /this/ without you Eddie." Tord would utter, a soft frown on his lips. "It's a shame that you weren't more cooperative though, comrade. Welcome to the Army."

(Listened to Me and the Devil by Soap&Skin while drawing and writing this, I'm so tired but hey! Here he is, the rat man himself.)

#eddsworld #eddsworld au #ew tord #tord #Crispy!Tord #ew au #Crispy!Edd #ok i can sleep now #finally. Im free #goodnigth #gore trigger warning #gore

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ace-the-fox · 1 year

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This is late anyways but ehhh: Day 4 and 5, Hurt/Comfort and Christmas

I missed two days, but wanted to do day 4 because I did have something I really wanted to do for it. Day three not so much (I was gonna do a crossover with CaeJose from Jojo, seeing as Joseph and Frank already share English voice actors, but didn't have an idea exactly what I was going to do with that so I let it go). It does need context though, which is given in the second fic for this lil series of mine, but in short: Andrew is the victim of a hereditary magic curse which causes him to randomly black out and act violently sometimes... fun!

And the second one has a cute puppy! It's meant to be a border collie, but I can't draw animals well at all :,). Not shown: Paul Hanbridge freaking out when Andrew gets back because you can't just bring random animals home goddamnit (he lets it slide because it's cute, though <3).

#lwa #little witch academia #andrew hanbridge #frank lwa #frandrew #these were really rushed and the anatomy is so bad I'm sorry D:#lwa rare pair week 2022

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acourtofthought · 1 year

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I feel like El/riel seems to have a hard time to seeing anything outside the El/riel ship.

Example: The Nephelle philosophy has nothing to do with Elain or El/riel specifially since it's a goddamn philosophy. Sarah related a song specifally to Azriel has no big meaning and doesn't relate to either ship. Every word "flower" "Shadow" "bread" "fawn" "death" isn't always related to Elain and Azriel. How else is Sarah suppose to describe a dark corner? Or our dark figures that always follow us? Can a place not smell like flowers or bread without having anything to do with Elain? Wasn't Feyre described as fawn and Rhys as death too? Can Sjm just love flowers and put them as decoration without anyone screaming that it comfirms El/riel? Like....

Even the way they talk about Elain and Azriel is like these characters are nothing outside of El/riel.

Not everything Sjm says or do has a whole meaning behind it. I know we want our ships confirmed but goddamnit touch grass.

I agree. Yes, there are key words that do relate to certain characters but if you have an E-Reader and search for that specific words, you'll see many, MANY times of where that word is used and has no connection to the character in question. As far as the Nephelle philosophy, sure. Maybe Elain's scene with helping to save Briar and stabbing the King could be applied. But you know who else can be applied to it? Feyre saving their entire world by repairing the Cauldron. Nesta defeating a Death God. Gwyn, Emerie, and Nesta (three females who had never believed they'd be doing much of anything beyond living in the library, running a shop, and living a life of anger away from true human connection, becoming Valkyries. Literally every SJM heroine there is. Because they all started their journey's living simple lives and have gone on to do greater things. No one assumed they'd ever become what they're becoming. That's the point of the philosophy, that these often underestimated females are making a difference in a way that no one would have imagined. It's interesting they fixate so much on Elain as fawn in conjunction with Az (lovely Fawn standing before Death_ because while on some level though it's cute imagery, it's not really a compliment. Yes, "Fox and Fawn" have a nice ring when the readers say it but note how Feyre that. It's a moniker readers have come up with. But Feyre does use Fawn and Death in a painting idea. The problem with that is:

"Fawns instinctively lie motionless when approached by a potential predator" Fawn calls to mind a timid creature who try to hide from things. The Suriel and Feyre, at that point in time, are viewing Elain this way because of her not having found who she is. She still shies away from things and hasn't really found her voice. So Fawn in connection with Az means that Elain is not bold with him and that is NEVER an endgame SJM pairing. And the Carver referenced Nesta to a fawn so yeah, it doesn't always have something to do with Elain. As far as Roses and Bread, I think there's a chance that may have had something to do with Elain. Whether it meant that SJM wanted to draw attention to the fact that she was missing from the Crossover scene in HOSAB or whether SJM did want to hint that she was staying in the townhouse, I think either is plausible. But E/riels using that as proof that E/riel as endgame is a joke because that means they've somehow gone from the Solstice rejection to making up, having their first kiss, asking one another to live together, all off page. When has that EVER happened in an SJM romance? Cassian does note in SF that the townhouse is currently vacant for whoever needs it and the fact that when Bryce enters, it smells like Bread and Roses and has a fire burning does suggest to me that someone is staying there. It would make sense that after what happened on Solstice, Elain would want to move out of the River House because Az often shows up for NC meetings. Why would she constantly want to run into him? So maybe she did ask to find her own space to live which sets her up for a book, just as Nesta began her book living in the apartment. Maybe Elain was watching Nyx at the River House and suggested the IC use her place to take Bryce to so she didn't have to enter the home of Feysand where their child was. Maybe Elain is living in the townhouse but was out somewhere else for the day so they knew it would be safe to use. Or maybe it's Az that's living there and bread and roses is not at all meant to indicate Elain is there with him but merely a clue SJM placed in order for us to note "hey, where IS Elain? Why is she not part of the group?" It's not that I can't understand why they initially made that jump because Bread and Roses are fairly specific to Elain. But the fact that anyone refuses to consider that it doesn't mean what they think it means (as far as E/riel certainty, especially because SJM NEVER has an endgame couples romance and major milestones happen off page) is the problem. It's too easy to point out why E/riel living together at the start of the Crossover makes no sense at all.

#crossover acotar #bread and roses #anti e/riel

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