#anyway - this is just some food for thought

[hyejinkim]

A request from @omkookie for Mr. Hood here, since he didn't get as much reconciliation as the others. Anyways, please do enjoy the story!

"Warmth in the Weary Heart: A Spark from Small Acts of Kindness" (Mr. Hood x reader).

Warning: none, just, maybe some words are hard to understand because I'm not a native English speaker, I translated it using Google so I ask for your understanding.

The hours stretched into what felt like endless days as you continued to search for the elusive elevator that was your only means of escape from this cursed apartment. Countless times you found yourself facing off against hostile entities, only to emerge overwhelmed and exhausted. The struggle to find food and water added to your despair, yet through it all, you were fortunate enough to have Mr. Hood by your side. He served as a steadfast companion and guide, helping you navigate the dangers and keeping you company in your quest to find a pathway out of the apartment and back to your own world.

Mr. Hood's presence was a lifeline in this hopeless situation. His assistance and support went beyond just being a mere companion; he was the one who kept you grounded and prevented you from succumbing to despair. Despite the grim surroundings and the seemingly never-ending search for the elevator, you were grateful for his company and the small bit of sanity he provided in this nightmarish reality.

Despite the relentless search for an elevator to your world, you found comfort in Mr. Hood's unwavering presence. His role as your helper and companion provided a much-needed lifeline, keeping you grounded and sane amidst the seemingly endless quest. However, even in your determination to press on, you were painfully aware of your own bodily limitations, feeling the strain of the challenges you had endured.

Mr. Hood, ever observant, recognized your overwhelm and gently led you to a safe haven, away from the dangers that loomed nearby. With great care, he guided you to a nearby bed, its appearance reminiscent of a hospital bed. His movements were both elegant and gentle, his touch delicately guiding you onto the bed, treating you as if you were something precious and fragile. Once he had settled you down, as Mr. Hood then turned his attention to finding a place to rest himself. Spotting an old sofa nearby, its blue hue faded with time, he strode toward it with a slight sigh. Carefully laying his colossal axe nearby to ensure it would not pose a threat, he sank onto the sofa, the creaking sound of the worn upholstery echoing slightly in the air.

As Mr. Hood sat there quietly, his body slowly regenerating after a strenuous battle. His form had taken on a peculiar texture, smooth and soft yet firm and muscular, akin to a living mass of slime. In his relaxed state, he stretched out, inadvertently adopting a rather provocative seating position, with his legs spread wide apart. Oblivious to the presence of you, who had been covertly observing him, Mr. Hood continued to sit like that, unaware of the subtle glances cast his way. Eventually, as the silence grew between them, you couldn't help but become shy and turned their gaze away.

Mr. Hood remained blissfully unaware of you're reaction, still focused on his own thoughts. He leaned back, sinking into the chair, the soft, slime-like texture of his body adjusting to the contour of the seat. The silence between them continued, broken only by the occasional soft sound of Mr. Hood's breathing.

Finally, Mr. Hood took notice of the change in atmosphere and turned his attention towards you. He caught a glimpse of the your shy demeanor, their averted eyes and flushed cheeks, and then realization dawned upon him.

His smooth, deep voice carried a hint of worry as he questioned, "You, hurt?" The soft, yet impactful tone sent a slight shiver down your spine, causing you to shake your head in response.

"No! I'm not hurt! It doesn't hurt!..." you quickly reassured, attempting to mask any evidence of your previous observations. Despite your best efforts, you couldn't help but admit to yourself that the sight of him, clad in nothing but a simple cloth wrapping his muscular body, was strangely alluring.

Despite your attempts to downplay any injury, Mr. Hood's concern lingered. He stood up from his seat, his mind seemingly contemplating something that piqued your curiosity. Before you had a chance to decipher his thoughts, you caught a hint of a knowing smile at the corner of his lips.

He leaned back, his large frame exuding a seductive aura, his long legs parted in a challenging gesture. The dirty brown cloth wrapped around his body rode up slightly, revealing more of his form, while his muscular arms stretched out, beckoning you closer.

"You, come... here, besides me..." he commanded, his low voice laced with an invitation that sent a shiver down your spine. The sight of him, posed in such a provocative manner, left you flustered and curious. You couldn't tear your gaze away, torn between wanting to oblige and wanting to resist the temptation.

After a while, You finally gathered your courage and slowly stepped off the bed, careful not to stumble and embarrass yourself further in front of the man who had become your guardian angel.

You stood before him, your heart pounding furiously in your chest, the sound of your heartbeat echoing in your ears. Despite your predicament, you couldn't deny the familiarity of this feeling – it reminded you of a time when life was still 'normal.'

After a moment of hesitation, you felt his strong hands gently pull you towards him, maneuvering you onto one of his massive thighs. Feeling like you were engulfed in a warm embrace, you found yourself instinctively leaning against his broad body. His deep voice, uttering the two simple words 'You, rest,' held a calming authority that seemed to banish your worries.

As he wrapped you in the cloth that clung to his body, enveloping you in a soft layer of warmth and comfort, you felt your eyelids growing heavy. Gradually, the tension in your body melted away, and a sense of peace washed over you, lulling you into a deep sleep in his lap.

His large, protective arms encircled you with a gentle firmness, his body a comforting presence against your fatigue and the stresses of the day. As you slept, your head resting against his warm chest, you felt a sense of safety that hadn't been there in a long time. Each slow, steady beat of his heart echoed against your ear, a steady rhythm that lulled you further into a relaxed state. He shifted slightly, adjusting his hold on you so that you would be more comfortable without disturbing your sleep.

With you comfortably asleep in his arms, mr. Hood was finally able to relax. He shifted his position slightly, careful not to wake you as he sought to make your sleep even more pleasant. In the stillness of the room, he spoke softly, his voice gentle and filled with a tender, loving tone.

"Good night... (y/n)..." he whispered, his words a soothing lullaby in the quiet darkness.

Disclaimer! :

This art is legally mine, so I hope you don't take it without my permission first!. Some words might be hard to understand because I used google to translate it, English isn't my first language so I hope you can understand my difficulty in translating it!)

[suguann]

✎. you aren’t happy about your roommate’s party until you meet the attractive guy down the hall.

tags. fem!reader, future installments will contain smut, age difference, original characters, college student reader, one-night stands, angst, dirty talk, hurt/comfort, size kink, unplanned pregnancy

featuring. simon

It’s your first semester living off-campus, and Finn is boundlessly enthusiastic about all things that involve cheap liquor and crowded spaces, even more so now that she roped you into being her roommate after promising to split the cost of furnishing an apartment that’s probably too expensive for two undergrads working part-time, low-pay jobs.

You don’t like parties, really. 

Movies and the social connotations surrounding parties have always made them seem like some monumental proverbial chip in your college experience; the real thing, once the bright-eyed shine of trying something new wears off, is more or less a bunch of random people packed into a room like sardines who abate their social awkwardness with alcohol and loud music.

So, no, you can’t exactly say that you enjoy the thought of Finn’s friends (and everyone she hardly smiles at) cramping up your already tiny apartment—especially when one of them is Miller from one of your business classes, who gives you the creeps. 

And leave it to Finn to invite him, anyway.

"Now he knows where I live," you grumble into your bowl of cereal—something probably too sweet and (definitely) full of sugar for breakfast.

Finn shrugs, not at all worried for you, as she pours more sticky orange batter into the hot pan on the stove. "The guy has a crush on you. I think it's cute. And he seems harmless."

“Harmless until I end up in a ditch somewhere.”

You don’t have to see her face to know she’s doing that thing with her mouth whenever you say something she thinks is ridiculous. “If you’d agree to split the Netflix bill, you wouldn’t be stuck watching horror movies. Why do you only own horror movies, again?”

"That's easy for you to say.” You roll your eyes, ignoring her question. “You don’t have to sit by him every week.”

(As if that would ever convince her to change her mind.)

"Ow! Shit!"

You look up right before Finn drops a steaming pancake onto her hand and rushes to the sink to run it under cold water. The mutilated pancake lay forgotten with the others that didn't survive her last several attempts.

"Finn, I think this is unnecessary," you tell her after swallowing a mouthful of cereal. "Can't you do something more practical? Like sticking a note to their door?"

Finn looks up from the sink, her wild, red curls bouncing from the movement. "Oh, come on! Don't chicken out now. I've already made fifteen of these things." She points her pink spatula at the tower of not-quite pumpkin-shaped pancakes on the counter. "Plus, who's going to turn down free food? Now, go put on your costume and hand these out."

You shovel another spoonful of cereal into your mouth, scowling. "I'm not wearing the costume you picked out. It's so...inappropriate."

You’re pretty sure Finn picked out your costume from the dicey sex shop down the street rather than an actual Halloween store—the amount of mesh compared to solid fabric only solidifies the theory.

Finn finally turns the water off and gives you a stern look, amused eyes set under a furrowed brow. "I can find the one you own in the children's section at Costco."

You roll your eyes. "I really don’t feel like flashing my tits to the neighbors while offering them breakfast.”

She grins, wide and teasing. "You have nice tits, though.”

"Yeah, I'm sure the old woman down the hall would love to see her neighbor in the equivalent of a thong and nipple coverings at the start of her day." You don’t think you’d ever be able to look her in the eye again.

"Miss Yado is cool,” Finn says, returning to the stove to continue cooking. “She'll probably just tell you to wear a jacket or something."

You pick up your empty bowl and lean over the counter to put it in the sink. "I didn't know you talked to our neighbors."

Finn shrugs, flipping the pancake in the skillet. "She normally walks her dog while I'm heading to class. I stop to talk to her sometimes when I'm not running late." 

“Oh?”

She shoots you a wry grin over her shoulder. "You'd know the neighbors too if you didn't scowl all the time."

In response, the corners of your mouth tip down. "I don’t scowl."

"Now, would you go change? These are getting cold." 

Several minutes later, you come out of your room wearing the same costume you'd worn the past two years. Finn pouts when she sees you forwent the one she had picked out. However, she doesn’t do more than shake her head and shove a handful of food containers full of pancakes into your hands.

“You’ll be fine. Just remember to smile,” she tells you before the front door closes behind you.

You start on your end of the hall, going door to door and handing out the small containers. The whole time, you’re wondering why Finn couldn’t do this herself, considering you’re hardly a people person as is. Thankfully, nobody seemed too annoyed about being bothered on a Saturday morning—only one neighbor shut the door in your face before you could say anything.

But it’s fine. You’re not going to let it ruin your day. Plus, you only have one person left.

There’s a small pit of nerves in your stomach when you knock this time—half expecting another door to the face. What you don’t expect, however, is the tall and imposing guy who answers.

Who also doesn’t appear to be any less annoyed.

Your mouth opens and closes helplessly, all words stuck to the back of your tongue, watching as stray water droplets drip down from his wet hair and travel down the side of his face before dispersing into the dark stubble lining his jaw.

You stare. And stare. Eyes, most likely, bugging unattractively out of your head.

How did Finn never mention the super hot neighbor who lived six doors down the hall?

He gives you a once-over, and part of you suddenly wishes you’d gone with Finn's costume instead. Only because here, at that moment, you’re willing to admit that maybe the one you have on looks like a six-year-old picked it out—especially when this guy, who is way out of your league, scrutinizes it for a second longer, mostly your frilly crew socks. 

"Can I help you?" he asks, his voice low as if he hasn’t been awake for long.

You blink, mild embarrassment rushing through you from the sudden realization that you’ve been standing there and saying absolutely nothing.

"Hi, um, I'm your neighbor from down the hall. My roommate and I are throwing a Halloween party, and we're inviting people in the building." Annoyance slowly melts off his face.

"Thank you,” heavily tattooed arms cross over his broad chest, and he leans against the door frame (and you definitely don’t stare at how his biceps seem to strain against his black t-shirt). “But I think I'm getting a little old for parties."

The corners of your mouth tip up in what’s the beginning of a smile.

"Okay, sure. You're, what, twenty-five?"

It’s a stupid joke, and for a moment, you panic, afraid he’d been unimpressed, but then his lips quirked slightly. "Not quite. Nice costume. Let me guess, fairy?"

"Witch, actually. I’ve always gone with something more original," you babble and bite your lip before you can say something else.

"It’s cute." 

Cute?

You’re unsure if you should feel elated that he thinks so or self-conscious—that he might be making fun of you—so you settle with a mumbled “thanks.”

"So, what's with the container?" he asks, nodding toward your hands.

"Oh, um, my roommate thought she could bribe people with food to come to the party." Truthfully, it’s to prevent potential complaints from the neighbors, but you decide not to mention that part, although you think he knows by the way the corner of his mouth subtly lifts.

You give him the plastic container and watch as he stares into it with a furrowed brow. "It's a... pancake?"

"Er, yeah. My roommate likes to go above and beyond for everything."

"What's it supposed to be?" he asks, glancing up at you.

"Um, a pumpkin..."

You look between him and the container and find Finn had accidentally mixed up her presentable pancakes with the throwaways. And the pumpkin shape is...well, it isn't.

"Ah, I see," he nods, his slowly drying hair falling onto his forehead. "That makes more sense."

You can’t stop the giggle that bubbles to the surface. "You think you can do better?"

"Yes, actually," he grins back, all cocksure, with a flash of white teeth. "Maybe I’ll bring some over some time."

"I won't tell her you said that." However, you can't wait to rib Finn later.

"Right, it probably wouldn't make a very good first impression." Then he sticks out his free hand, "Simon."

You shyly shake it—ignoring the little skip in your chest at how big his hand is compared to yours—and tell him your name, too.

His eyes flicker down to his watch, and he curses under his breath. "Well, it was nice meeting you. But I have to finish getting ready for work."

Only then do you take note of the tactical pants and heavy boots he’s wearing.

When you meet his gaze again, you find amusement there, and you consider, with a new rush of mortification, that it probably seemed like you’d been openly eyeing his crotch. 

You clear your throat, the back of your neck feeling hot, and you pointedly pretend your voice doesn’t hitch when you breathe a soft, tremulous, "Okay, sure.”

"Tell your roommate I said thanks for breakfast."

"Yeah, I'll tell her. Um, I guess I'll see you around." No longer able to make eye contact with him, you turn away and begin walking (though it’s probably closer to running) toward your door.

And you definitely don’t look over your shoulder to see if he’s still standing there.

You spend most of the party hanging out near the front door, quietly hoping Simon might show up—even though it seems unlikely. After all, he did mention that he’s too old for parties, and a small, insecure part of you wonders if it was his polite way of turning you down.

"The guy was running late,” Finn had tried to reassure you. “I'm sure he was thinking about how to beat expressway traffic before the lunch hour rush hit. Not about the crazy lady in a witch costume running away from his door."

That was the initial deciding factor between your witch costume and the one Finn’s been trying to force you into—only so you don’t have to hear another person call you cute just to seem nice.

And leave it to Finn to jump at the opportunity to help you get ready, though she nearly freaked out when you popped into your joint bathroom with an old tube of mascara that you rummaged out of your nightstand.

"Do you know how many germs are probably on that thing?" Finn’s nose scrunched up as she threw it away in the waste bin near the toilet. "Please tell me you haven't used it since you bought it?"

You had rolled your eyes. "Probably not."

Finn sighed, then smiled. "Luckily for you, I own more than a crusty mascara tube." 

You were about to argue, but when Finn told you to sit on the toilet lid with a dangerously sharp liner pen, you’d clenched your jaw instead, unsure what you were more scared of when Finn brought the pen close to your face: that your friend might potentially stab you in the eye or that you’d come out of the bathroom with raccoon eyes.

Thankfully, when Finn finally finished, neither was the case, except the number of looks you’ve been receiving anytime someone stops in the kitchen to get more drinks is something you hadn’t anticipated—especially when one of them happens to be Miller.

You’ve been avoiding him and his overly bare chest from the moment he walked through your front door. It grew more challenging after Finn left your side (the traitor) to talk to a guy you’ve seen her hanging around with on campus a few times. 

And with the apartment feeling smaller than it already is, you’re only option is to blend in with the group hanging around your kitchen island.

You’ll be fine, Finn said.

Right, you think as you adjust the scanty tube top under your mesh shirt, trying to cover more of yourself with what little fabric you have at your disposal, and you wonder if it’s too late to change—

A knock at the door makes you perk up, regardless of how noisy the room is, with eardrum-shattering music and loud college students. You pull it open, expecting to see Simon on the other side, only to be disappointed when it’s one of Finn’s friends and her girlfriend instead.

"Hey, Roma." You realize you probably sound rude and attempt to give them your best smile—which is more or less a grimace.

Roma smooths out her extremely short referee-style dress. "Sorry, we're late! I couldn't remember where you lived. There are way too many blue apartment buildings around here..."

Everything she’s saying goes in one ear and out the other when you spot Simon stepping out of the door to the stairway across the hall. You hold your breath, waiting for him to look up from his phone.

But he keeps walking.

"Uh, yeah," you say distractedly before speeding up the conversation. "Hey, Finn is in the living room, but I'll see you guys inside, okay? I need to do something."

You step around them to catch up to Simon, which you learn isn’t easy in heels. So you call his name, hoping he hears you and smiling when he turns toward you. And you don’t miss how his gaze trails down your body slowly.

It makes something inside you quiver as you nervously play with the short hem of your skirt.

“Hey,” he says, sounding every bit as tired as he looks—his shirt from that morning now wrinkled with bluish hollows under his eyes—though he tries to hide it with what you think is an attempt at a smile.

And your cheeks burn because you feel guilty. 

"Hey," you repeat dumbly. 

Your eyes lower as his smile melts into one of faint amusement at your lack of tact. You fidget, shifting from one foot to the other. Maybe, you think, you should have let him walk into his apartment before you could embarrass yourself further today.  

After a moment, you meet his gaze again. 

"Uh, I just wanted to see if you still wanted to come over…But I imagine you're probably not up for it, so I’ll leave—"

Simon surprises you when he shrugs his shoulders and says, "Sure."

Your mouth gapes, unsure if you heard him correctly. "Wh-what?"

"I just need to shower and change, and then I'll be over. Okay?"

"I... yeah, okay," your nod is shy, trying not to betray eagerness.

A lazy grin stretches across his mouth. "Nice costume, by the way," he disappears into his apartment before he can witness how his words make you flush.

And you walk back to your apartment feeling a little more floaty than when you left.

masterlist

[lichenes]

I heard you were begging for Silco asks and I will take literally anything.

Jealous Silco or Jealous Reader (bonus points if Silco doesn't notice that someone is hitting on him)

I also feel like Silco would be an amazing dance partner/classical waltz style or some intimate partner dance but would only ever do it in private.

Silco with a reader who is maternal with Jinx ❤️

Smut or fluff, whatever you feel like writing I just want to treat that man right 👍

To all the anons that requested Silco i will be getting on that soon!! Now I present to you: Silco looking for a mum for Jinx, any takers?

This gif has such a fucking GRIP on me it's driving me insane. How can pixels be SO F I N E. Anyway per your request anon this is Silco x reader x (kinda) platonic!Jinx :D!! SILCO DESERVES SO MUCH LOVEEEE. I don't care if he commited like... actual war crimes, what does AIR mean to my LUNGS. CW: brief cursing!! not much besides that, pretty tame, kinda ooc.... sorri... wc: 1261 .  * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚ .  * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚.  * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚.  * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚.  * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚

The Zaunite air was filled with an unrelenting heaviness. Each day, despite Silcos best efforts, the food was getting scarcer and people were more and more scared. It wasn’t ever too much. He could handle it no doubt. Right?

Jinx was sitting on his desk and talking his ear off.

She was enjoying her time with him while Silco was quietly taking care of some documents. Spending time together with Jinx was one of the few things he enjoyed in life. Sure, his unique appearance made many women drawn to him and most people in Zaun felt nothing but respect for the man but he never developed anything meaningful, anything… tangible. Aside from Jinx he had no one. 

The stream of words being let out of Jinx at, at least, 200 words per minute stopped when there was a knock at the door. “Come in.” Said Silco with his usual sombre tone. He always filled the room with a certain coldness few were able to tolerate or enjoy, for that matter. Sevika entered the room. “Someone wants to talk to you.” 

He nodded, giving her permission to let them in. 

During the conversation with whoever was sitting on the other side of the desk Jinx kept returning to the thought that brushed by her mind that morning. Shouldn’t someone as undoing as a daughter have a mother by her side? Jinx was good. Good at what she did, good at killing and even better at creation. She lacked the maternal hand that was supposed to lead her through life even if she wasn’t exactly aware of what she was looking for she needed someone to guide her through her life. 

On the other hand, Silco, the effective ruler of Zaun, didn’t have anyone to share the parental burdens of life with. The swooning crowd of power-hungry women in the city weren’t a good choice for a mother. Not for someone as unpredictable as Jinx. 

Jinx was convinced you fell from heaven for her, how could he not see it? A godsend perfect for what she needed.

The Last Drop was busy. People talking, the air stuffy with Zaunite tensions, dilemmas and the smoke being extruded out of the lungs of many. He noticed you before, an everyday woman, providing her parents with whatever they needed in their old age. He didn’t do many of the job interviews himself, his lesser henchmen took care of that, but the barkeep of The Last Drop was the person he came to care for. 

“You’re hired.” He said at the end of your chat.

You were used to people chatting you up while you were behind the bar, an additional drink, boredom or true infatuation were all at play here. Never… this. “What can I get you?” You said when someone took the only free stool at the bar. When they didn’t answer you so you turned around to check them out. If they were a danger to the well being of the people inside or the bar itself you’d rather they threatened the guards than you. 

What transpired was truly bizarre. You expected to see anyone here, Sevika in a foul mood, Jinx with a gun to your head or even one of the lesser lackeys of the many people running this city. Silco? Silco was last on your list.

You froze in place almost dropping the pint you were holding. Quickly you put it on the counter in front of the person who ordered it and turned your attention to him. He looked at you with an unusual intent, normally when you’d look over to his usual spot he’d be smoking and surveying the room with his ice-cold vision, today there was… need. 

You were stuck in place not being able to even utter a word in such presence. After a moment more of scaring you into an early grave he spoke. “Come to the back, someone will take your place for tonight.” Suddenly terror turned into anxiety. “Am I being replaced?” He only stood up and went around the bar to presumably accompany you there. 

Your heart was pounding and your hands were sweaty, this could be your execution you realised. Your mind was going a million miles a minute, combing through all your wrongdoings and if you were eligible for any pardon. 

He didn’t enjoy that scared expression on your face, he enjoyed them on most people with exception to Jinx and well… you. “Nothing to be afraid of, lady.” Said Jinx toying with her gun. That definitely didn’t mitigate your concerns. “She’s right.” Said Silco somehow appearing behind you. You jumped at his sudden intrusion into your personal space. 

Explaining what they wanted was certainly difficult. You had a lot of questions regarding your new position as a… babysitter for Jinx? You’d never say that out loud for fear of swift death. The payment was lucrative as well so you decided on accepting the offer. At the end of the talk you were more or less familiarised with what this job entailed, along with being a co-parent to Silco, you were to be on their beck and call, still you retained the position of the barkeep. 

As all people you were a bit afraid of Jinx. Looking at her she was inconspicuous, the braids giving her a child-like wonder look to her. Underneath you could feel a profound sadness sitting inside of her and you were determined to make this weird little fucked up family a happy one at least. 

You were happy to tend to wounds, look after The Last Drop when needed and listen to Jinx talk for hours. With time, Silco grew fond of you. Your mannerisms of a caring and doting parental figure, despite all which burdened you, would soon make him swoon. 

One night after closing when you were wiping down tables Silco walked in, in an unusually good mood. He leaned on one of the clean tables. “Hello. How was your day?” You asked mindlessly, not noticing him inching closer and closer to your figure. Nobody else was in the room when it all happened. 

You weren’t the best at concealing your growing affection towards Silco. The longing stares weren’t doing you any good and the fact that somehow he kept catching you was even worse. You were sure your position was soon to be terminated. 

He spun you around and caged your body between his own. His breath was warm and falling just over your chest. “Silco?” You dared. 

“You make me sick with worry sometimes.” He was… smiling? Silco was smiling? You couldn’t make anything out, your head was spinning from the proximity and his cologne. “Look at me.” He demanded grabbing your chin and tilting it upwards. “I’ve got a question.” You nodded. “Do you want to dance?” You were stunned.

The tables were moved to the sides as Silco put a few coins into the jukebox and began striding towards you with the delicacy and grace of a cat. You put your arm on his shoulder and grasped his other one. He led you around the room to the song being played and amidst the growing tension, brought his lips to yours, hesitantly. The kiss was magical, you could feel yourself rising above the roof when he finally closed the gap. You reciprocated the kiss and as the song faded away he put his hands on your cheeks trying to get as close to you as possible.

He thought he’d lost the spark and now, here you were. 

.  * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚ .  * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚.  * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚.  * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚.  * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚ masterlist

[louisferrignojr]

i keep saying i'm not going to pay this show any more attention and I keep coming back with more thoughts and i decided to inflict them on all of y'all so here goes

hot take: the brad/hotshots storyline isn't inherently bad. it was entertaining. it was fun and campy, classic 911. i love it when shows get a bit meta. we stay sillay.

however it all falls completely flat, and here's why:

they butchered the main storylines they had set up at the end of s7 — Hen and Karen vs Ortiz (and Gerrard), the 118 vs Gerrard vs Tommy (don't play, they wrote it out with big block letters), Bobby's suicidal ideation, abrupt resignation and relationship conflict with Athena, not to mention NDE. the only storyline they seem to have spent any time on is Eddie and Chris — thank fucking fuck, some good food for Eddie.

they have disregarded previously established side characters in favour of developing Brad Torrence. where the fuck is Ravi? where's Sue, where's Linda? why is Josh only there as a mouthpiece to deliver a cringeworthy self-congratulatory speech praising Ryan Murphy's previous — and still DEEPLY biphobic — work?

the hotshots storyline of 8x07 and 8x08 should have taken place WAY later in the season: only after spending time giving their existing characters and relationships the focus they so sorely need.

Hen and Karen and their struggles with Mara being with Chimney and Maddie — where was the conflict between Hen and Chimney? blink and you miss it in 8x01. why was everything wrapped up so fucking quickly in 8x04? the pacing of that episode was INSANE. they could have drawn it out until the mid-season finale, and ended it on a positive note of Mara coming home.

Maddie and Chimney have had almost nothing all of 8a — what looked like a conversation about family planning, addressing their past issues, deciding to stick together and make it work this time, it was building up to something so good — and it crumbled before my eyes with the accidental pregnancy reveal. because we're dealing with teenagers who don't know how birth control works, not two grown adults in their 40s with a history of PPD. be so for fucking real.

and then: why bring back a homophobic, racist, sexist character, have him act EXACTLY like his old self — including throwing a subtle slur at his old subordinate who's just come out of the closet — and then reduce him to a cartoonish villain — did they perhaps realise that bringing back Gerrard was a big mistake? that no one wants to see this type of villain anymore? that his return undercut the justice of him getting fired by the LAFD for his bigoted behaviour? much to ponder.

Athena and Bobby nearly died, they lost their house in a fire (hello? ptsd flashbacks? no? okay.), then Athena nearly died AGAIN, but we don't need to linger on any of this. back to work, you two. Bobby, you get your firehouse back. Athena, back to doing bad cop shit, i guess. (they had a nice relationship moment with the house hunting and deciding to build etc in 8x04, and that's about it).

Buck had a consistent storyline between 8x01 - 8x04: struggling being under Gerrard, getting to work with Bobby again, and finally getting his captain back on a permanent basis. then we got 8x05 with Tommy — an episode dedicated on the intimacy and depth of their relationship — which they then completely fucked it up in 8x06. yes, the "past connection" reveal was a terribly done messy retcon of the entirety of s1 if you ask me, and a disservice to all three characters: Buck, Tommy, and Abby. the backlash from the GA following the breakup speaks for itself. but they then went to make a big joke of Buck coping with the breakup in 8x07 and 8x08. because we can't be serious about anything, ever. and again — I get it. it's the weewoo show. but don't tell me they haven't previously done well thought-out, touching storytelling. anyway, this got a little derailed because i'm still so fucking salty — the bottom line is, however they butchered Buck's storyline, at least he's had something meaningful.

the only other main that has had a meaningful storyline in 8a is Eddie. they've shown him struggling with being away from Christopher in almost every episode. i can't say i'm a big fan of the way 8x06 went for him (literally. enough with the movie references. tim minear have a fucking original thought for once). but I'm loving where his storyline is headed. that was a good 'cliffhanger' if you will. go back to your roots baby! go reconcile with your son — own up to your mistakes! talk to him about his mother! go to father-son therapy together! -> so much wishful thinking, y'all. we'd be lucky to get 1/10th of this on the show, but whatever.

tldr: no one gives a flying fuck about hotshots or brad because while we love the silly weewoo show, we need something to chew on before you toss us a half-baked dessert. to quote lou ferrigno jr, i am not satisfied.

[nuggetpool-hi]

Guess who watched X-Men origins again

OK SO I got THOUGHTS of this movie but specially Wade's fight style because it's really similar to our current Deadpool's fighting style... so yeah I wanna yap about that hi

WELL FIRST OF wanna talk a lil about Victor, Logan and Wade's different styles... from a mortal's view point I am no expert on this just insane about these movies and I need to write my thoughts or i'll explode

Starting with Victor!! the ultimate kittycat girlypop

I love his kitty self I'm sorry ANYWAY EXAMPLES

OKAY SO VICTOR. Victor's style is obviously very animalistic but also stylized, he makes the fight a show for himself! He likes to hunt and he tries to always give chase or play around a bit before the kill, just like a cat playing with his food!

AND IF you pay attention to the start of the movie, this game he's got with his target isn't initially how he fought, he kinda developed it as the years went by and the eviler he got the more he played with his food. The first few wars he goes to he's fighting like a human soldier, then you can see him slip up some animal jumps and uses his claws more until at the end he's full on predator chasing his prey (just like when he captures Scott, my god I love that scene he's terryfing)

AND A BIG DIFFERENCE BETWEEN HIM AND LOGAN (that I will also talk about later I guess) is that with this play thing Victor has going on it SHOWS that he THINKS about the stragety when fighting, he's aware of his surroundings and his target's strenghs and weaknesses, he's good at coming up with solutions on the spot (see his fight with John, he can predict where he's going to teleport and catch him) and how to give a good chase without losing WHILE LOGAN WELL, at least in this movie he seems very lost when fighting?? he mostly just launches at his target and attacks, if the target runs away he chases, very animalistic but in a feral-based on instincts way... prolly why he coulnt win agaisnt Victor at first, because he was being blinded by his rage while Victor was quite literally playing with him lmao

ANYWAY LOGAN our favorite traumatized babygirl

and boy does he suffer in this one aughh EXAMPLES

Now you must be wondering why did I put the bathroom scene, well I feel like it represents Logan's general situation pretty well! (and its silly let me be), hes confused destroying everything and just keeps making it worse every time he tries to fix it.

The thing about Logan in this movie is that he's honestly just- confused and angry from the moment he killed his father, he runs away over and over again from EVERYTHING and he's constantly being manipulated BY EVERYONE!! Poor man has no idea what to do with himself of who he can actually trust but damn he tries, his enviroment is contantly changing and he's trying his best to adapt but he does it in a messy way.

The way he fights and acts in general is animalistic, yes, but more of the "scared dog attacks" kind of way, he's always acting on his instinct that it's mostly led by anger. When he fights he just throws himself and tries to slash whatever he can, he runs he hides and then when he gets the chance to he attacks again.

He constantly has little to no control of the situtation WHICH IS SPECIALLY SEEN pre-adamantium where he keeps losing to Victor because unlike him- he has no plan, he's being manipulated and kept blind of everything ON PURPOUSE which obviouly puts him in a disadvantage so yeah.

AFTER he gets the adamantium you can see his skills strengen with his knowledge, the more he lears about his situation the more focused he is and his fighting it's cleaner, he still moslty just launches himself head first into fights BUT he's not running away, he's able to evaluate his situation and adapt (See his fight with Gambit, he looks at him when running away and then destroys the stair so Gambit can't run away OR with Deadpool where he decides to gain height as a way to create the space needed to evaluate his enemy?? that one might be a lil bit of a stretch tho)

WADE WILSON THE ULTIMATE CUTIE PRINCESS

let's ignore how dirty they did him ok...

OKAY SO SADLY- The bullet scene is pretty much the only scene where we see him fight and it's honestly not enough to tell how his normal style is BUT I WILL SAY his general style is fancy to look at and scarily effective (which is mostly seen with our current Wade but you can see a bit in origins deadpool) he makes a show for everyone to see, which is also his stragedy to make himself even better at combat! He uses a lot of fancy movements and acrobatics that help him AND takes his enemies off-guard, confusing them as where they should attack or what he's going to hit?? anyway-

Comparison time yippieee THIS IS WHAT THIS POST IS SUPPOSED TO BE ABOUT LMAO

I did not get side tracked idk what you mean.... and now seeing it over and over I'm realizing not that noticeable.... so it's just not that much to talk about oops

LOOK AT THIS WADE, LOOK AT THE MOVEMENTS HE DOES WITH HIS LEGS!! HIS HANDS??? THIS MAN IS SHOWING OFF he's using all kinds of acrobatics and fancy movements while fighting, he attacks with his hands and dodges using mostly his legs, he's using all he has!! and it's making Logan lose BECAUSE LOGAN CAN'T FOCUS!! specially since he's so "target locked will attack", Wade makes it SO HARD for him to focus on a pose long enough to actually stab him also Logan ain't too good at dodging, I'm guessing it could be because he heals? dunno

now what inmediately came to my mind upon rewatch was THIS scene (maybe because I saw it recently who knows)

THE SETTING IS SO SIMILAR!! Wade is using a lot of fancy movements to get up, dodge and attack all way too fast for Logan to process, once again Logan is looking everywhere confused about where to aim bc this silly red guy it's dancing on his face and he's struggling to keep up JUST LIKE IN ORIGINS except well he IS able to get a hit bahah

Dodges like crazy, jumps over Logan (he did in origins too) just moves a lot between every attack

Actually now that I think about it Wade feels a bit less effective in the car, like yes sure he's putting up a good fight but Logan still feels like he's leading it BECAUSE WADE IS MORE EFFECTIVE WHEN HE HAS MORE SPACE!! he likes to be able to move around and do gimnastics while Logan it's a lot better the closer he gets to his target so omg yeah... ALSO LIKE WADE STILL TRIES TO MOVE AROUND he shoves Logan away from him, he gets out of the car choking logan with a seatbelt and gets to the back, he tries to create space because that's where his speciality WHILE LOGAN keeps trying to get closer to have him in his power, which he gets to do since the car isn't allowing Wade to move as freely as he would want to...

AND YOU CAN SEE HIS FANCY MOVEMENTS WITH FRANCIS TOO he's constantly circuling him, dodging and spinning while Francis is just trying to get a hit, Wade keeps his enemies chasing him when he fight THAT'S the way he controls it and gets it wherever he wants aughh

ANYWAY YEAH I think that's it, don't really know how much sense any of this does since I've been writing it on-and off the whole day lmao it's so messy but yeah feel free to add onto it I'd love to see opinions on this wahoo

Might keep talking about stuff I find interesting in the movies bahah this has been funn

[icarusredwings]

Thinking about old Worst Wolverine being called by each of the X men individually after they have a falling out because Logan injured a child very badly to the point the only reason they didn't die is because another classmates healing abilities all while he just... walked away.

Well- ran.. away... leaving a child to die. He's tried to explain thousands of times that he blacked out, that he didn't remember doing any of this. He tries to say that maybe it was someone else, that mystique did this shit all the time in his universe.

"Yeah, well!? This isn't your universe! Because the REAL Logan would never do this.." Scott screams at him as Logan leaves the Mansion for the last time. He doesn't come back. He didn't even get to tell his Xkits goodbye. It got to the point where Laura dropped out, taking Gabby with her, wanting nothing to do with the school anymore.

So now, here he is. In Maine, an old fisherman, part-time hunter, and the only people he lets around him have healing factors.

He lives with Wade, who still- by the way- doesn't have any grey hairs (maybe because hes bald but- yk)

One night, while Logan is out, making himself feel useful by feeding the small town they're in, providing for more poor families, feeding their children's hungry mouths and asking nothing in return but respect. (It gets to the point that the children cheer when they see Logan, wanting to hug him, but he growls at them to get off, too afraid of hurting them) Wade finally awnsers the ringing phone.

"What." There's vemon in his tone, but soon his eyes widden, and he frowns.

Walking outside he stands there a moment, knowing Logan can hear him.

He ignores him, looking at the fish, litsening, his breathing slowing as he skewers some with his claws. Its not exactly spear fishing but- close.

"What?" His voice is almost annoyed, as if knowing what his long time Husband was about to ask him.

"Logan.."

"No."

"Logan-"

He shakes his head. "Don't care."

"...She's missing."

He pauses, turning after scraping the dead fish into a bucket. "Who's missing?"

"There's a little girl missing."

"So?"

"Logan!"

"I'm not helping them, Wade. That's final." He growls.

For a moment, Wade frowns, but he didn't learn to obey thy husband like the bible said.

He never did.

"Logan, there's a 6 year old out there. All alone. Cold. Probably going to be eaten by wolves!" He shouts from the back porch, knowing his place enough to stay here and not come near his fish. Even after all these years, Logan was still finicky over his food. "And all because some old fart won't help her!"

The silence thickened as Logan thought about it, the hero side of his brain yelling 'We'll find her!' And the hurt old part of him saying 'That's not my buisness.'

".. You find her then." He compromises.

"I can't! And if anyone knows those Canadian woods, it's you! You said you knew those forests like the back of your hand!" Wade protests. "If I could smell someone through miles of freezing snow, I would. But I can't. So here I am, asking The Wolverine to go do what he does best."

He grunts, glaring. "And that is?"

"Helping a little girl get back to her mommy..." Wade says, knowing that he was sold. He knew he was sold the moment he told him to do it himself. "She doesn't have much time, Logan." He sighs, putting a cherry on top.

The greyed man huffed, grumbling under his breath for a moment. "Who will stay here with the dog?"

"Gabby can! She loves gabs." Gott'em.

"What about Laura? Why can't she find her?"

Shit.

"Logan, Laura has barley been in those woods. You've lived in them for years. So. What will it be. Pull up your panties and go save a little girls life? Or do it anyway when our baby girl gets lost too?"

Logan scoffs, disappointed. "..She wouldn't get lost.."

"She would if the scent kept being blown away.."

Wade adds, seeing the 'god damn it, he's right.' look on the old mans brow.

He lets out a large sigh. "...I don't want any help."

"Oh well too fucking bad bucko, I'm gonna go pack my snow suit!"

"No! I mean... I don’t want any help from THEM.."

"No promises. I'm not letting poor Susie die just because you have a grudge. Now put your fish in the freezer and lets go! They're coming to pick us up-"

"I ain't flying!!" Logan snarls, watching as his lover ran off, having a deep feeling that he would be in the air shortly..

[beelinx]

priorities

synopsis: osamu miya has always been a simple guy, prioritizing the same things all his life. but what happens when a new, unexpected person comes along, making his priorities change? warnings: rushed, probably ooc osamu bc i haven’t finished s4 yet </3 reader is referred to as girlfriend once! 1.6k words

osamu miya only ever had three things on his mind: food, volleyball, and his annoying twin brother.

he didn’t think much about anything, or anyone, else. he actually has a pretty straightforward routine, featuring all his main priorities.

wake up and eat a delicious breakfast

school (though he’s mostly thinking about what he’s having for lunch right now)

lunch with his friends and atsumu 

volleyball while his brother’s being annoying

snacking while drowning out atsumu’s voice

dinner, calmingly munching on his meal while his brother is still being annoying.

go to sleep, probably off to dream about food again

so yeah, osamu’s a pretty simple guy.

he didn’t get distracted easily, not that he’d be able to, anyway. if he lost focus during a match his brother would be sure to get his ass. which he already does, when osamu’s love for food occasionally gets the best of him.

for almost as long as he can remember, osamu’s had the same guiding priorities as always.

so, why was it that all his priorities were being messed up now?

why, instead of looking forward to lunch, he went to school looking forward to seeing your face?

why was he now zoning out during volleyball practice at the thought of you?

why was it that when you came along, he suddenly fell asleep dreaming of you, instead of his next meal?

he couldn’t understand why you were suddenly overcoming him. you, who he’d barely just met. how could someone he met not even a year ago be suddenly more important to him than everything he’s been prioritizing all his life?

he couldn’t figure it out.

he couldn’t figure you out.

you’re a year under him. you’re in the yearbook club, because, according to you, your friends wanted to all be in the same club together. that day, though, you had come alone. you said you were there to photograph the volleyball club, and you were nice to him, really nice. he couldn’t help but stare at you a little as you hurried around, trying to get the best pictures. 

that day, you briefly mentioned really liking onigiri, and that you were craving some at the moment. apparently, hearing say that was all it took to make him fall for you.

again, really simple guy.

ever since that day, when he first laid eyes on you, osamu’s never been able to stop looking for you everywhere he is. seeing your face was now the thing he looked forward to the most, with the highlight of his day being your satisfied little smile after taking a bite out of an onigiri.

his little crush was slowly becoming not so little anymore, with his teammates quickly catching onto the younger twin’s new and powerful infatuation. 

they’d tease him sometimes during practice, with his brother occasionally making snide remarks on how “his serves were off, probably because his daydreaming about his cute little girlfriend” causing osamu to roll his eyes and tell atsumu to “shut up” as he shoves a ball towards his face.

whenever he found the time to do so, osamu would stop by wherever you were. one of these days he gave you an onigiri he’d made himself, mumbling something about overhearing you say you like them. you told him it was the best onigiri you’ve ever had, so he started making them for you whenever he could.

you’d started eating lunch together at least once a week, and he really couldn’t help but stare at you while you munched on your meal. for some reason, he always thought you looked the most beautiful while you ate. especially if it was him that prepared it for you.

it’s not like he’s a coward or something, he wants to confess to you. he really does. but he can’t help but be scared about how it’s going to affect his life.

his three main priorities, all overshadowed by a new one. 

he wasn’t sure he was ready for that, so he waited. he waited, and waited, and waited. until one day, it all became too much for him.

he hadn’t planned it, hadn’t prepared for this except for all the countless nights imagining this moment. well, he hoped he’d be able to muster up some poetic words from those sleepless nights, instead of making this an incredibly awkward and disturbing experience for the both of you.

“hey ‘samu!” you greeted him. he felt himself blush merely at the sound or your voice. he silently cursed himself for how pathetic he was being. he handed you the onigiri he had brought along for you today, while avoiding all the eye contact he would to ensure you wouldn’t see him blushing furiously.

“wait, actually!” you said as you shoved your hand down your bag, slowly bringing out a container, “i brought you onigiri, too!” you quickly handed him the food, looking quite sheepish, “i wanted to switch things up a bit, but honestly i don’t think they’re as good as yours. still though, i wanted to do something for you! to thank you for being so sweet to me.”

you giggled softly as you handed him the packed goods. you kept talking, rambling on about your day or random things you’ve had on your mind. he didn’t reply to you, didn’t say or do anything but listen to your voice, not really processing what you were saying. he couldn’t exactly form coherent thoughts right now. he just stared silently at the meal, then at you, then back at the meal. he repeated this action thoughtlessly for a while. well, not really thoughtlessly, his mind was currently rushing with many thoughts, so many he couldn’t decipher any of them, except for the breathtaking image of your face..

suddenly, he felt overcome by courage and impulsively said, “be my girlfrien’?”

that seemed to stop your rambling on its track. you opened and closed your mouth repeatedly, trying to find the words to reply, or maybe you were just too shocked to process what he’d just said.

“c-can you repeat that?” you stuttered, still too taken aback by his sudden confession.

osamu felt as if his heart was trying to race out of his chest at this very moment. he hitched his breath, opening his mouth as he prepared to repeat his question, to face your cruel rejection, when a loud voice suddenly boomed throughout the schoolyard.

“‘SAMUUUU!”

priority number three.

“yer’ running late for volleyball practice, ya idiot,” atsumu said, “hurry up or we’re makin’ ya do diving drills alone!” 

osamu seemed to cringe at his brother’s voice, silently cursing him for interrupting your conversation. he turned around to look at his brother, and when he looked back at you, he couldn’t help but feel as all the previous courage to confess quickly drifted out of his body. now, all he could do was silently pray you actually hadn't heard him correctly, but he knew that was wishful thinking.

“‘samu i-”

“i’ve gotta go,” he interrupted you before hearing your words of rejection. he turned around and walked off after his brother, turning back to look at you twice, both with an apologetic and awkward look on his face. 

you were left standing shellshocked, alone, in the middle of the schoolyard, wondering what the hell just happened. 

you debated the possibilities of having actually misheard him. maybe he was actually talking about his secret girlfriend, bea. or maybe he actually saw a bee. no, that seemed very unlikely. but, really, what were the chances of your long-time crush actually liking you back? highly improbable. you’d even go as far as to say it was impossible, if you hadn’t caught him staring at you for a second too long before. 

you weren’t about to confess to him, though. no way. you already felt incredibly lucky to have somehow managed to befriend osamu, destroying your friendship would kill you. you nervously nibbled on the onigiri you were currently holding, one he’d made for you today. your favorite flavor, too. it was sweet, how he remembered exactly how you felt about each flavor.

well, that thought made you even more anxious, as you had now started pacing around nervously, trying to decipher what you should do with your current situation.

meanwhile, osamu wasn’t having it much easier.

“jeez, ya really blew it out there, didn't cha?” his brother teased him.

“shut up,” he mumbled back in reply, “‘s not funny,”

“i think it is!” he laughed, “why didn’t ya ask her out sooner, though? i’m sure she woulda gone on a date with ya,” atsumu said. well, osamu doubted that, and he wasn’t exactly sure when his brother switched from being an asshole to actually trying to comfort him. though, osamu figured maybe he felt bad after being the one to interrupt. 

actually, scratch that. that doesn’t exactly sound like atsumu.

“‘m not sure about that,” osamu replied slowly.

“nah, i know it! she’s crazy for ya,” he said, as he put a hand on osamu’s shoulder and patted him comfortingly, “you’ll get it next time, just not durin’ practice time, yeah?”

then it seemed like the topic was immediately erased from his brother’s mind, because he then started rambling on about whatever it is happened to him, not adding a single word about what just happened. osamu only listened to him vaguely, occasionally nodding or humming in reply, but his mind was clearly elsewhere. mostly on whether or not his brother’s words rang true at all.

did you really like him back? well, he figured it wasn’t actually impossible, you do treat him differently as you do others. and you made onigiri for him today. you always laugh at his shitty jokes, too. and you said you thought his hair was cute once.

…yeah, maybe he should try confessing to you again.but he’d make sure to do it properly this time.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Bruce(secretly jealous because that is his father figure): Alfred seems to favor you

Isekai Reader: *not going feral and a complete menace for once and is behave* Oh you see I was out grocery shopping with Jay

Bruce: stay away from my son

Isekai reader: lemme finish!

Bruce: ....

Isekai Reader: Jeez, so as I was saying i went out to help grocery shopping and Jay went to buy something

Isekai Reader: I found an interesting vintage shop and head inside to explore and I saw a fine china tea set

Isekai reader: and I was like "oh hey mr. Alfred has a cabinet of them let's buy it"

Isekai reader: who would've thought that was a piece he was looking

Bruce: that's it?

Isekai Reader: yuh

Bruce, on the phone texting Tim: make some orders of vintage tea sets-

Isekai! Reader/you: you’re just jealous that your dad figure is now my dad figure.

Bruce: I don’t do siblings.

Isekai!reader/you: me neither and besides it’d me weird to date your son in that sense.

Bruce: keep my son’s name out of your mouth.

Isekai! Reader/you: keep threatening me all you want I’m still gonna hit either way.

Bruce: …

Isekai!reader/you; so anyways I got Alfred that tea set he needed, but then I also noticed that this shop had these ivory cutlery set and it was a little high in prince but I knew that Alfred admired some finely made cutlery as the next guy. So..

Bruce: so?

Isekai! Reader/you: I stole your card and bought it with it :)

Bruce: YOU WHA- *bruce exe stopped working* then technically I bought it then. *suddenly smug*

Isekai! Reader/ you: …Bruce I’m broke, I’ve got no money, no home, no food to put in my mouth. The first time you saw me I was beating the joker into unconsciousness…

Bruce:…fair enough keep the card.

Isekai!reader/you: bad decision really.

Bruce: I’m rich.

Isekai!reader/you: I know…does that mean I can use it to date your son-

Bruce: don’t push it.

[nyx-knacks-writes]

Be More Careful, Okay?

Based off of @princeloww's idea of Alec and Campbell being uncle and nephew. I think Alec is a tad out of character here, but I saw this prompt by @prompt-dealer and had an image of Campbell being chased by an angry Alec, and I couldn't resist. No spoilers for either Broadchurch or Takin' Over the Asylum, and none for princeloww's The Never-Ending Sky, either. This is just my little idea of something that could occur if Campbell were to end up in Alec's care. I take zero credit for the idea of Campbell and Alec living together and zero credit for the prompt.

“I’m too young to die!”

“Young ain’t got nothin’ to do with it!”

Alec chased Campbell around the house, literally around the outside of the house, yelling obscenities and threatening—well, Campbell didn’t exactly know what he was threatening, but chances were high that it wasn’t good. Nature of a threat, after all.

Truth be told, Alec also didn’t know what he was threatening. He’d figure that out later. However, he did know that Campbell was in deep trouble. Trouble so deep that he wasn’t exactly sure how to punish the boy. Especially given that Campbell wasn’t even his son. So round and round they went, both yelling and trying not to slip on wet grass that would surely yank their feet out from under them at the first opportunity, causing an impromptu meeting with the cold, wet, muddy ground. 

The first offense had been the shirts. Campbell had had good intentions, really. He’d come home early from school on Monday, seen that the bathroom laundry hamper was full, and decided he’d do a load of washing to help his uncle. What a lovely nephew he was, right? Right? Wrong. Despite his best efforts to sort the colored clothing from the whites and the darks, he’d missed a pair of socks. A pair of red socks. A pair of brand-new red socks the exact color of a freshly washed fire engine gleaming in the summer sun. The shirts had come out pink. Oops. When Alec finally got to see the result of his nephew’s good intentions, he’d simply sighed and shaken his head. No sense in getting mad. He could probably do with some new shirts anyway. He’d donate the pink ones to a charity shop in town. Yeah, yeah, “real men wear pink” and all that, but what was he supposed to do? Like it or not, pink was still very much thought of as a feminine color. He could only imagine the abuse he’d suffer at the hands of his coworkers if he came in wearing a pink shirt. Big, bad DI Hardy in pink? Unthinkable. So he’d donated the old shirts, added a shopping trip to his weekend plans, and obtained the new white shirts that he preferred. A little hit to the wallet, but ultimately, no lasting harm done.

The second offense had been the soup. After the Sandbrook case had finally been solved and closed, Miller had insisted Alec start taking better care of himself and get a hobby. So what did he choose but learning to cook, which would satisfy both her demands? Ever the efficient one, wasn’t he? However, some dishes required a couple of extra hands for the sake of timing, so he would recruit Daisy and/or Campbell, depending on the day and on who was around, to help him out in the kitchen. On Tuesday, he’d needed both of them. It was going to be pumpkin soup for dinner that night, since it had been so cold and rainy, and Alec had asked Campbell to add the cream, nutmeg, salt, and pepper to the pot while he began pureeing vegetables a few cups at a time and Daisy helped him to avoid overloading the food processor. Four teaspoons of nutmeg would do it. However, when Alec caught sight of the little container of nutmeg on the counter after putting the soup back onto the stove to simmer, there was no teaspoon in sight. Instead, there was a tablespoon with a suspicious coating of brown powder sitting only an inch or so away.

“Campbell,” he’d asked slowly, “how much nutmeg did ye put in the soup?”

“Four tablespoons,” Campbell answered, looking up from the knife he was washing. “Why?”

Alec cursed, cut the gas, and put the soup pot on the stove’s back burner.

“Nutmeg is poisonous in high quantities,” he said. “The recipe called for four teaspoons, not tablespoons. If we eat that, we’ll end up in hospital.” He sighed and scrubbed a hand through his hair, debating on chastising Campbell versus just letting it go. ‘Try to read it a bit more carefully next time, aye?” he eventually said as Campbell made a point to look anywhere else but at his uncle’s eyes. “Anyone have suggestions for dinner tonight? Looks like we’ll be doing takeaway.”

The next day, Campbell really did wind up in the hospital. Not for ignoring his uncle’s warning about the soup, but instead for a skateboard accident. It had been something of an impulse buy on Campbell’s part, and while he was getting to be rather good when it was dry, he’d not yet practiced when it was wet. He’d missed the bus to school in the morning, pondered what to do, and instead of calling a friend or his uncle or even Ellie Miller, he’d decided that the best possible way to rectify this problem was to attempt to skateboard to school and ask to leave the board in the office until the end of the day. He’d load up his backpack, throw on a rain jacket, hop on the board, and sail off into the morning light, perfectly balanced and confident that as long as he was careful, nothing would go wrong. 

What actually happened was that he rolled out with all his things, made it about halfway to the building, hydroplaned on a small hill, and ate dirt. Great. One ambulance ride, a thorough wound-washing, a chunk of chin and six stitches later, he was sitting in a hospital bed as Alec chewed him out for being irresponsible and not just calling for help or walking to school instead of getting on a set of wheels that had not been properly tested for mildly inclement weather. Not that he could be too hard on the boy. His intentions (get to school without inconveniencing anyone) had been good, and the fall, given its consequences, had really been punishment enough for poor Campbell. He looked like he’d expected a bowl of cherries and gotten a cherry bomb instead: a little confused and a lot regretful. Like he was contemplating the choices in his life that had brought him to this moment. 

Thursday had been blessedly normal. No blood, no pink shirts, no ruined meals. Normal ride to school, normal day, normal ride home. He didn’t even have homework for once in his school career! Maybe he was in the clear! Maybe his little bad-luck streak was over!

And then on Friday he inadvertently dyed his uncle’s hair a bright teal. What he wanted to do was put a teal streak in his own hair. It had been something he’d been thinking about for a while, and after having such a rough week, he figured that it wouldn’t hurt to try. He’d spent the afternoon in and out of the bathroom, making sure he was doing it right and not dying the whole house at the same time, and it had come out beautifully! Not a drop anywhere but in his hair, nice clean stripe, absolutely gorgeous. His one mistake? Leaving the bottle in the shower. When he’d gone to rinse out the excess dye, he’d taken the bottle into the shower with him to check the instructions for how to properly care for the freshly dyed hair. When he was all set, he’d left it there. And what did his poor, unsuspecting uncle do when he went to wash his hair later that night? He grabbed the dye bottle instead of the shampoo. And what did he see when his hair finally dried? Bright teal. Everywhere. All over his head. No missing it. Thus leading to the lovely game of ring-around-the-house. It was a little childish, yeah, but Campbell hadn’t been sure what his uncle was going to do with him when the newly teal-headed man had stormed into the living room with murder in his eyes. The options had been limited, so Campbell chose to run. 

Uncle and nephew made the oval at least four times over, pushing Alec’s pacemaker to the limit, before Alec finally stopped seeing red and had the bright idea to simply wait for Campbell to come back around again. He snagged at his nephew’s hood when the opportunity presented itself and pulled the boy against his chest. 

“Campbell, I . . . why?” Alec asked helplessly, wind going out of his sails. “I know ye’ve had a tough time adjusting here, but why?”

“I didnae mean to!” Campbell squawked. “I left the dye in the shower by accident, I swear!”

“I know ye didnae mean to, I’m asking ye why ye haven’t been more careful! Two out of the last five days ye’ve injured or nearly killed yerself, an’ I just want to know why!”

Alec stopped for a moment, released a breath, and let it go. 

“Look, I know ye’re not happy to be here. I know nothing’s the same and ye’re not even with yer mum and da anymore. I’m worried about ye. Please, just . . . I need ye to be more careful. That’s all. That’s why I’m upset. Now please, let’s stop these Looney Tunes shenanigans an’ go back inside. It’s too cold an’ wet to be out at this time of night.”

Campbell stopped to consider that for a moment, and Alec realized what he’d said. However, the apology wasn’t halfway out of his mouth before Campbell cracked a grin.

“But I am a looney.” 

“Campbell—”

“How can ye expect me no’ to engage in Looney Tunes shenanigans when I am, in fact, a looney?”

“Campbell—”

“In fact, you ought to be thankful that I don’t engage in more Looney Tunes shenanigans just to spite ye! In fact—!”

“Campbell!”

The boy in question stopped talking, but his grin didn’t fade even a little.

“Yes?”

“Inside. Please.”

And so, the pair trooped to the door in silence, neither sure what to say to the other until Campbell paused with his hand on the doorknob.

“I’ll be more careful,” he promised. “I didnae mean to worry ye, really. I’ve just had an unlucky couple of days. I’m fine.”

“Really fine?”

“Aye, really fine.”

“And ye know ye can ask fer help any time?”

“Aye.”

“And—”

“Yes, yes, come on, let’s go inside! I haven’t eaten since lunch, an’ dinner won’t cook itself. What are we makin’ tonight?”

[nebulastarss]

Catbatfam Wayne family lore pt2 (Mostly Tim cuz I had thoughts)

Next door to the Wayne family are the Drake household. Now, you know how fanon Tim Drake has horrifically neglective parents to the point where he should definitely be dead by 6 years old? Yeah Kitty Timothy has that. Since he is just a cat, they pile food in a few bowls and then leave. They have an automatic litter box (DANGEROUS. ESPECIALLY FOR KITTENS.) so he's not getting infections, but he's definitely running out of food before the weeks are over and they pop back in (also the food is stale. Gross)

Timothy is a well behaved pet regardless, essentially hoping that if he's cute enough they'll stop leaving him to his own devices. Never works. He becomes a real good hunter, and no one ever finds out about the rat infestation. So he's pretty independent, but not feral. He also gets into the habit of watching the streets from the window, catching Bruce walking past multiple times.

(Sometimes the Drakes forget to pay the power bill for a little. Thankfully they gave him his own cat room, and he piles blankets that he lies under with only his nose poking out.)

One day, he has ran out of food and he must've over hunted because the rats aren't there. But Bruce is outside again. And Tim is hungry. So he starts screaming, yelling and rubbing his face against the glass. Bruce stops and runs up to press his nose against the glass, proceeding to break into Drake Manor and steal their kitten

Martha and Thomas are once again rushing to the vet, and once again contacting lawyers over animal neglect. The poor thing is half starved! He's got scratches and illnesses from the rats! He has signs of prolonged exposure to the cold! Bad pet ownership!

They now own 5 cats. They never planned on 5 cats, and the kittens all get along like a house on fire. They're all similar ages, only a few months in between them, with such different personalities.

Dick won't stop hissing at strangers but turns into a loud and clingy kitten the second he's near family. He's curious and constantly overestimating how far he can jump. He's often in the living areas, perched over the fireplace or becoming one with the couch. He's also the most prone to going full Zoomies. He will be running in circles for the next 10 minutes actually.

Jason isn't loud but he's clumsy (he trips on the stairs like. A lot. They think it's because of the lack of tail) and he prefers the library and the kitchen to any other room in the manor. (Some servants will open random books and leave them out, they have lists of which ones he does and doesn't lay on, called "Jason's Favorites") he gets along with Alfred, who also frequents the kitchens.

Tim, despite being initially quiet and loving, has taken a more aloof stance once he's sure they won't just leave he hangs out in the offices a lot, to the point where they get him a little laptop toy (it's actually a real laptop. They enjoy looking through his search history: "afwgvbndnnnnnn nnnn") he does love pets, but won't actively push against someone. He will, however, linger in a room and stand juuust close enough that you could pet him. If you wanted to. Yknow, no pressure or anything. He's a little stalker cat, and prefers to watch everyone from above.

And all of them sneak out. Together. They use the doggy door, of course, but sometimes they all just vanish and then come back in using the door. Literally how, they have CAMERAS. Martha loves her grandbabies but she swears they're giving her gray hair. She's only in her thirties! She should not have gray hair!

Once again though, another video surfaces on the internet. Tim is sitting on a box, watching Dick and Babs play while Jason bats at Bruce's tail, when another cat literally falls on him. A Bengal with a large bell attached to her collar that darts away at Tim's affronted screech. She crouches down, tail flicking, before rolling around like a dog asking to play. Tim watches, unamused.

They end up playing anyway. Bruce also catches her at one point and licks the shit out of her fur, which is dirty as all hell. A post from a tired nurse reveals the kitten to be Stephanie, though Crystal Brown records herself fondly saying hello to her "dear Stephie" and asking how she got outside. Stephanie responds by rolling onto her back and purring.

Tim starts regularly showing up at her window, where they either watch pedestrians or play fight with the window between them (have you ever seen videos of kittens doing that? Cute as shit. They end up bonking their heads against the glass every single time) they officially don't do much more though, as Stephanie is supposed to be a strictly indoor cat. (More videos emerge of Stephanie breaking out while Crystal is at work. Poor nurse is fighting a loosing battle)

After a few weeks, the family relaxes again. Surely that's it, Bruce and his weird kitten collecting is over now.

Then he comes home with a silent Burmese kitten.

Bruce where do you keep getting these. They find nothing on her. As far as they can tell, she's a stray, but she's not injured or ill in any way. There's no identification and she won't speak at all.

(Did you know that cats don't meow into adulthood? Meowing is a baby noise. Cats actual noises are outside of our hearing range, all we can hear are "FUCK OFF LEAVE ME ALONE!" and "IM BABY GIVE ME LOVE!" Cats are taught by those older than them to keep meowing so that they can communicate with us.)

They take her home, and she follows everyone around. She walks on silent feet, often scareing the absolute crap out of however spots her (or trips over her)

One day she's watching Dick intensely, watching the way that Thomas interacts with him. She pads over, sits, and stares at him. He stares back. She tilts her head. He blinks and then Dick calls his attention away by meowing at him. And Cass stares at the both of them. Then she hops up on Thomas's lap, props herself up on his chest with her front legs, and meows at him. He's delighted, she loves being able to ask for shit and communicate, Dick is mostly just grumpy that Thomas stopped petting him.

Then, again surely that's it. Surely. We definitely have the room but Bruce we went from 2 cats to 6 in a month. Slow down. Martha is it just me or does taking care of these cats feel like we just chose to have children in a more convoluted way?

They are wrong.

[00000000point00000000]

so i got like 150 cals too much today (shoulve been 300) bc i was travelling for like 6 hours and my day was PACKED.

had 2 eggs for breakfast and fried them in water which, lets be real, doesnt fucking work. visited my family and had a salad with cranberries, lenses, quinoa and a little bit of feta for lunch while spending some time with the reason i have an eating disorder (my mum) and drinking her beloved detox tea.

had a huge anxiety attack when i got home (note to self, dont drink coffee) and ate some of the food (broccoli and tortellini) my boyfriend made. i dont feel really bad about it bc i probably burned it off today anyways and will cut the amount of calories from tomorrow too. still stings a little thoooo. im proud of myself for just eating a little bit and not giving into the urge of shoving the whole pot down my troath🥰

anddd i told my boyfriend yesterday that i kind of relapsed and he was so understanding. i know hes worried but i also know he realized it before i told him, so its better to be honest right away ig. he promised not to force me to eat but im not sure how this will play out when it gets really bad again. it still feels right, at least i dont have to lie to him now.

my body is getting used to not eating as much i think, which makes it easier to get shit done. so thats great! but lets be fr, relapsing is so scary. especially when your logical side and your sick side are like two different people. bc there is a voice in my head that says "wtf are you doing to yourself". its just not loud enough.

if you hear that voice, try to listen. reach out, recover, get your life back. coming from me thats pathetic, i know, but i genuinely wouldnt wish this shit on my worst enemy and im so fucking sorry for everyone who has to live like this.

anyways, enough food for thought🥰

i had a glass of white wine with my friend. idk i just feel like drinking is such a waste of calories, i hate that a beer is 250-300. like??! but im not 16 anymore so theres no way im drinking vodka on an empty stomach😭

feeling: tipsy🤪

[isaacthedruid]

i wrote this weird little zombie poem/short story and for some reason my brain was supplying buck and eddie from 9-1-1 as the characters, so here’s the buddie cut of this stupid little story (trigger warnings of the normal zombie related media stuff<3)

my best friend died on thursday– car crash.

it’s saturday now but don’t cry for him, he was alive a few hours later. 

my best friend died on thursday– but i think he came back wrong.

i still don’t understand what happened, 

buck was in the hospital, in a coma and dead to the world. 

i was sat there with him, holding his limp hand in mine, 

his girlfriend (now ex-girlfriend) didn’t have the heart to show. 

he looked so small and pale, covered in bandages from head to toe. 

then his heart stopped, they couldn’t get it pumping again. 

they dragged me out of the room, to let them work. 

thursday, 1:17pm.

thursday, 3:34pm, buck called me. 

i hadn’t left the hospital, i thought it was some sick fucking joke. 

“my best friend just died, how fucking dare you-” i remember yelling into the phone. 

that certainly turned some heads but then he was standing there, 

my fucking dead best friend, in a hospital gown with bandages hung loosely off of him. 

what the fuck– i thought i was dreaming–

some fucked up grief induced hallucination but nurses were scrambling to help him. 

the person from the morgue was running down the hallway after him. 

all of them ushered him away, into an exam room. 

he was making a scene, apparently i was too. 

what the actual fuck- 

no, no, no- his heart stopped, all brain activity had died, he died-

anyways, i passed out. (thursday, i don’t know what time.)

i must have hit my head pretty hard on the way down

and there he was, sat like i had been earlier, holding my hand. 

his hand was cold, that pink that always flushed his skin hadn’t come back yet. 

the nurses had given him some clothes and me, a bandage for my head. 

“you died, buck..” i said.

“it didn’t stick,” he shrugged. 

they wanted to keep him for observation but he disagreed, seeing as he was perfectly fine. 

every scan was clear, even the random ones they pulled out of their asses to keep him longer.

my best friend who had just died, who earlier was more bandage than skin, was fine. 

i don’t get it but they discharged the both of us, 

we uber’d back to his place, he wouldn’t let me sleep on the couch, 

i can’t remember his reasoning but we shared his bed– i held him in my arms.

(we cuddled, not that either will actually admit it.)

friday, 8;13am, he was gone when i woke up. 

i found him downstairs, doubled over the toilet. 

the kitchen, a mess and food strewn out across the counters.

the ground beef (we were planning to cook for dinner) was torn into–

like an animal had got to it. he had eaten it, my brain supplied.

“don’t throw that away!” he said, wiping the bile from his mouth. 

“did you eat this?” i asked, the beef held frozen over the trash.

“i- you know the answer to that.” 

“why?” i sighed, rubbing at my temples and setting the half eaten- jesus- 

i sat the half eaten thing of ground beef back where i found it.

my best friend looked at it, pink and raw and ground, and then back to me, 

i wasn’t sure what buck was exactly getting at with that look. 

he scooped his fork into the beef, not breaking eye contact with me and took a bite. 

i nearly vomited but he seemed fine, unaffected,

which confused me given the initial vomiting on his part.

“what the actual fuck are you doing?” 

“what? i’m hungry,” he said with his mouthful.

“so, some raw meat was your choice of a nice breakfast?” 

“i cooked some eggs but they made me hurl.” 

“are you fucking serious, buck, and this? this isn’t making you sick?” 

“nope.” he answered matter-of-factly. 

friday, 7;46pm, he broke up with his girlfriend. 

his girlfriend of three years, the woman he was going to propose to next month. 

it’s kinda understandable as she didn’t visit him in the hospital when he literally died. 

other than that, the breakup came out of nowhere. broken up just like that.

she’d come to check on us– no, come to check on him. 

(we had an understanding. she didn’t like me and i didn’t like her either.) 

(she always said i was jealous of her which… i can’t fight her on.)

he was angry at her, rightfully so, and things got heated. 

she’d cheated on him, she revealed post-breakup. i shouldn’t have been listening–

but it was kinda hard to ignore when they were screaming at each other

and then she was screaming bloody murder. 

i ran into the kitchen, she was on the ground flailing and he was on top of her-

holy fucking shit, my best friend fucking bit her! 

he tore right through her neck and gnawed at her flesh. 

what the actual fuck was happening? holy fucking shit, this was actually happening. 

i pushed him off of her but she’d already bled out. 

“do you mind?” he asked, blood smeared across his face. coating his nose and chin.

“yes. i do mind! you- holy fucking shit, buck! are you crazy?” 

“i was hungry,” he said meekly. “also, she cheated on me and i-”

 “you didn’t have to eat her!” 

saturday, 1:02am, we buried the body in a field out in the middle of nowhere. 

we buried a body in the middle of nowhere.

no, we buried the bits and pieces that my best friend decided he didn’t want to eat.

what the actual fuck is my life turning into? 

“this better not become a habit of yours.” i sighed, dropping my shovel. 

“and what if it does?” buck smirked. 

“i’m not helping you bury more body parts.” 

“oh really?” 

“really.” i said, lying through my teeth.

it’s him and i til the end of the line, i’m his accomplice in this

and i wouldn’t have it any other way. 

“so, are you zombie?” i asked, starting up the truck. 

“i think so.” he replied, looking out the window. “are you okay with that?” 

“are you still, y’know, you?”

“i think so.” he repeated.

“then yeah…” i laughed, awkwardly as i often do. “as long as you don’t eat me.” 

“i wasn’t planning on it.” 

“i’m glad.” 

“besides, it would be kinda mean to eat you before i take you on a date.” 

“what-” 

“i’m serious, eddie.” 

“oh.” i blanched, “i’d like that.” 

oh. oh- oh my god? what the fuck is happening?

it’s not every day you get to bury a body with your best friend 

or burn evidence or scrub the kitchen down from top to bottom 

because he happened to decide he was craving human flesh. 

saturday, 7:30am, my boyfriend after a long conversation, took me out for breakfast. 

he was full, he’d just eaten an entire person minus the gallbladder and some bones

because apparently he’s like a cat who won’t eat every part of the mouse. 

i still don’t understand how this happened, he died,

became a honest to god zombie, he ate his cheating girlfriend, 

we buried her body, lied to the police and now, 

here, we are getting breakfast. 

how the fuck did i manage to get a boyfriend out of this…

it’s been a long two days.

[my-catsface]

Cat’s Mac and Parasite Water Recipe (Experience)

Hello. I’m cat. Welcome back to my first addition of fucked up food recipes.

I have quite a history of doing stuff like this, and unfortunately I never learn my lesson. That being said, let’s get to it.

Fair warning: this comes with pictures. While none of them are inherently bad there are some of these that you could look at and go “yeah I would actually throw up if I didn’t know what that was” so be warned this isn’t just a food crime it’s a gross food crime.

I used chocolate almond milk because I’m lactose intolerant and I’m using Mac and cheese because I don’t really give a fuck about that.

The sprite is there because chocolate sprilk is one of my favorite drinks (I cannot recommend it to anyone even if my heart was full of malice), so the thought came to me. Why not try chocolate sprilk Mac and cheese?

Milk makes Mac and cheese creamier, and who knows what the sprite would do! So it’s an experiment.

I decided to start the dish with chocolate milk instead of water, filling THAT to the line.

I could have definitely added sprite in at this stage, but honestly I wasn’t sure if carbonation would act right in the microwave, and I figured I could always try it different another time. I also thought maybe warm sprite would be the worse alternative to “lukewarm sprite mixed with warm milk” but I’m making a dish i called Mac and Parasite Water so what do I know.

Big mistake I didn’t account for. You can’t just put chocolate milk into the microwave for three and a half minutes. Apparently it rises and overflows. Anyone with even a shred of common sense may have anticipated this, but I am not a smart person (I’m making this dish after all).

What I ended up doing from here was watching the microwave and deciding to open it if it overflowed again. Most of it was done spilling out so I let it continue for about a minute and a half and took it out at the end (cleaned the microwave after).

I will say this was probably one of the peaks to this little project of madness. The smell? The smell in my room was SO good. Go figure warm chocolate would smell good but NO. No this was beautiful. Amazing. It just reinforced that what I was doing was good and just, and in that sense it was a siren.

Anyway from here I just sort of mixed the Mac and cheese around and let it take in the chocolate milk. Still emboldened by the smell of warm chocolate, I thought to continue.

Here I did actually do a little taste test just because I was curious, and honestly it was a little underwhelming.

The best way I can describe it is like… processed something. There was some richness to it with the chocolate, sure, but it really was just still processed noodles. It’s like if you rolled honey into playdough until it was a jam (if you squint) and spread that out on wheat bread. That’s kind of what it tasted like and I would know because that’s also something I’ve done.

At this point… I added the cheese.

Now. The first thought that struck me when I was done mixing it was “god damn this looks awful.” The second thought that struck me was “you know, this place actually feeds me if I really want food.” My final thought was “I wonder what the cheese will look like.” The answer?

UNHOLY MUCUS. Not the most unappetizing looking thing I’ve ever eaten but GOD DAMN it was CLOSE!! It was certainly CLOSE.

There’s many words that would be good here. Goo. Sludge. Goop. Muck. Grime. The word I will choose to use is “slime” because it strikes close to my heart.

I was in too deep. My smoke was too tough. If I didn’t eat this, They’d kill me. So I took a bite.

I say this with no ounce of exaggeration: It was GOOD. It was REALLY GOOD. The milk almost entirely covered up all the processed part of the cheese, and the cheese itself covered up the weird processed flavor of the noodles. The texture was absolutely top notch, too.

I would genuinely, GENUINELY, eat this again. In fact, I took three whole taste test bites as opposed to the singular one I was planning to take. It was so good I was almost worried about continuing with adding sprite. But I’m not one to back down from a challenge nobody imposed upon me, so I trudged on.

I added the sprite.

I added the sprite up to the top of the Mac and cheese itself and suddenly my meal was very… very angry at me. I almost apologized to it, but it would have been hollow. But I didn’t feel anything. If meals can be made with love, this meal was not made with that. It wasn’t made with hate, though. No. This meal was made with morbid curiosity. This meal was made with divine hubris. I knew before I took a single bite that I had poisoned my ambrosia.

I wanted to discard it, to cast it away. It would be my monster and I it’s Frankenstein. Alternatively it would be my ai daughter thing and I it’s Ayin Lobotomy Corporation. But I’m not a fan of waste so I continued. I took a bite.

The taste? The taste was… bad. It was awful. I couldn’t even believe it was the same dish. It was like an acidic pond. The sprite overpowered both flavors and took the reins, beating the cheese and the milk into submission for its dominance. I took a bite and it tasted like penitence for all the sins I haven’t yet made. If there is a God, then there is his devil. And if there is a devil, this is what he eats. I have experienced a great fall from the light, and I wish nothing more than to be allowed to climb up and embrace it again.

I wanted to pray. But I knew mercy had closed its ears and wailed.

Once I ate the rest of the noodles I was suddenly made aware of my newest problem. The broth. As the milk and cheese mostly stuck to the noodles themselves, I was getting mostly noodles, cheese, milk, and whatever sprite my spoon picked up. That meant that for the most part my meal really was just the noodles.

No longer.

Now I was left with the reason this dish has gained its name. Look upon my next picture with horror, I beg of you.

The remnant powder of the cheese was just… left there. Sitting. Sitting in a bowl of chocolate milk and sprite and tears. I realized I had to drink this. I looked at the same thing you’re looking at now and I realized I needed to DRINK that.

Thats about when the meal got its name. Gazing at my unlovable child I decided then and there that it looked like it would give me horrible unthinkable internal parasites. That’s what the little spots of cheese reminded me of. (Another contender was mold brew!) But I don’t like to waste things. I needed to drink it.

So I did. I took the cup, pinched it in on itself to make two points, and lifted one to my lips. I raised the cup up quickly, just desperate to get it over with.

In it went. Almost smoothly. And what did it taste like?

Nothing.

Even water has a taste. Even chocolate sprilk itself has A Taste. This thing? The parasite water itself? No taste. Nothing there. It was almost… disappointing. I even swished it around in my mouth for a bit to try and get SOMETHING. But it was for naught.

My meal ended. It experienced life and death the same way that I would, and yet I think myself better than it.

Nyaaa~ time for the ending notes!

Wow that meal certainly Was! For anyone who wants to make this I would honestly recommend losing the sprite part of it and just making chocolate Mac and cheese.

It was honestly really good at that point and I’d say it was a really big highlight! SO.

If you make this forget the sprite, and ALSO either use less milk in the microwave or monitor it more closely than I did so that you don’t have any spillage (or do exactly what I did and just be ready for some paper towels.

[ordinaryschmuck]

Full Family AU Part 37

Luz grumbled as consciousness arose her from her slumber, letting out a little yawn as she sat up on her bed.

'My bed...?' She thought. 'I thought I was downstairs...Downstairs...'

Her eyes went wide as the events of last night finally come to her young mind, and a burst of excitement is soon pumping in her heart.

"Downstairs...is a WITCH!" Luz shrieked as she jumped out from under the covers and slid down her ladder. On the bottom bunk was Vee, who snored loudly for a seven-year-old and, for reasons Luz wasn't sure of, held tightly to a packet of cards. "Morning, Vee!" Luz chirped. "Goodbye, Vee!"

Vee only offered a snore in response, turning over in her bed while Luz ran out the room and made her way to the stairs.

'A witch!' her mind shouted, louder and louder as she went down another step. 'A really real witch! Just like in that Azura book Papi bought me! Ooh, I can't wait, I can't wait, I can't WAIT!'

Once reaching the bottom, Luz ran to the living room, hoping to see the witch there. Only, disappointingly, there was no sign of her. Not on the couch, loveseat, or anywhere.

"Ms. Witch?" Luz called. "Where did you go?"

"To the kitchen!" Eda's voice called back. Luz gasped, her excitement bubbling up again as she ran to the kitchen and saw Eda digging through the fridge.

"Ms. Witch!" Luz cheered.

"It's Eda to you, kid," Eda said. "Hope your folks don't mind me lookin' for some food. The little one woke me up, telling me he's 'hungy.'"

"I'm sure they won't mind. Where is your puppy, anyway?"

"He's not a puppy. He's..." Eda pulled herself out of the fridge, looking quizzical as she held a carton of eggs. "Huh...To be frank, I've got no idea what he is. But he sure ain't no pooch. As for where he is..." She points at the kitchen table, where King sat, his tail wagging.

"Puppy!" Luz shouted. She tried going for a run, but she got scooped up by the scruff of her shirt by Eda.

"Slow down, kiddo," Eda told her. "Ya gotta give the 'puppy' some time to relax. It's still too early for your level of cuddling and ya almost popped his head off when you hugged him the first time."

"Aw..." Luz pouted, but seemed to understand. "Sorry, Puppy."

"Weh!" King yapped back.

"I think that's his way of saying he forgives you," Eda said. "Now, I have one quick question: Are these human realm eggs anything like griffins'? Because my boy really likes a griffin egg."

"Griffin--Griffins are real?!" Luz asked, loudly and with her eyes shining. "Do they breath spiders?!"

"Oh, yeah. Leave quite the mess when they do."

"I KNEW IT!"

At this point, Eda smiled down at the little, happy ball of energy, jittering in the hold Eda had on her. "You're pretty interested in all this magic stuff, aren't you, kid?"

"Very! I want to learn EVERYTHING!"

"Well, if you help me cook breakfast, I'll be able to tell you most things. How does that sound?"

Luz squealed. "It's a deal! Oh, and my name isn't 'kid.' It's Luz. Luz Noceda."

"Nice to finally meet ya, Luz." Eda set Luz back down. "Now, let's get cooking."

[the-thieves-gambit]

Our usual. Those words bothered her in a way she couldn't identify, maybe because there was a usual. A routine of sorts that had developed between the two. She would have to correct that, as much as she was kidding about finding him a girlfriend while he was gone, she'd have to consider doing it to make sure that would break this up. He wouldn't be able to hang out around her office all the time if she set him up with someone else to occupy his time with. Though for some reason, it made her a bit sad that he wouldn't be around as much once she did.

Sipping from her coffee, she noticed the way he bit his lip and raised a questioning eyebrow. What was so funny? but she dared not ask glad that he had changed the topic to his case. "Hmm. I'm sure with you they'll have their shit solved in no time. Just need someone that knows what they're doing. Thanks," she made a sound between a clicking of her teeth and a sigh as she thought about it. "I don't do divorce things, never have but I don't know. I felt bad when she came to me, I was her last resort. He's a cop and making her life hell," shrugging she put her mug down" Time to make his one." Thinking it over for a moment, she put the cinnamon sugar back in the cupboard and finished off the coffee as it was. "Hmm," was the respond she gave as she listened to him tell her about his allergy. Genetic. Well that sucked.

"Please don't." She held her hand up. She loved Dolly, the thought of her barking until she ate made her anxious. "I do eat," she began to say a bit faster than usual as she came up with a lie. Words spilling faster than they ever had before out of her. "I just haven't gone grocery shopping. I usually have a lot of food around, fruit too, this case just has taken a lot of my attention right now. Please, don't have her do that. I'll be eating a lot when she's here after this disposition I'm going out for groceries." Hoping that it would be enough to have him drop the matter.

"Oh, thanks." The words were said with surprise. Someone had to find comfort in it. There were times when it couldn't lull her to sleep. When it would bring the nightmares on instead of help. "You didn't have to do that but thanks. I'm glad you were able to get comfortable."

There he went again, we. That is where we're gonna go. He was so sure in including her,like it was a guarantee that it was happening and she would be a part of it. "It sounds lovely." She didn't want to add that it would be a shame that she wouldn't see it, seeing as when he got back, she'd have him occupied with a shiny new person when he returned. That was neither here nor there, no one would miss her once she got her replacement hired and the office fully up and running. She would once again be that person someone vaguely remembered once. "Wildfire," she repeated with a smile. "Now that sounds like a horse that would definitely kick me."

As much as she thought about getting rid of him from her life, when it was time for them to part now she felt the odd sensation of missing him already. Shaking it off, she nodded. "Great, I'll be waiting. And you have my word," she held up three fingers on one hand, despite never having been a scout. "I'll walk you out, gotta unlock the door for the Holden's anyway." Though he had tucked one side in, she couldn't help it, just like last night, and reached over and tucked the other side in too. "There, even. Better." Holding the door open for him, she gave him a small smile. "Have a safe trip and again thanks for letting me borrow Dolly for the week. I'll watch over her well. Promise. "

As if to give her confirmation he merely nodded his head and chuckled. "Gotta choose your words wisely around me. I find loopholes." Wally kid just enjoying his time with her in her kitchen. "Gotta admit this is quite a change from our usual. I actually like it." Shaking his head he didn't want to inconvenience her. "No, it's okay. Poptart is fine. Though the fact you know I like toast and jelly is freaking me out a bit. Not in a bad way." he added not wanting to make her feel like he was mad or anything. "It's usually me who notices things. I'm glad you didn't say peanut butter and jelly." His hand did the kaput gesture and laughed to himself.

He nodded as he kept chewing and smiled biting down on his lip to keep from laughing. She had the cutest pair of bunny teeth and that made him want to scream. But didn't he kept his composure. "Right? I can only imagine what type of chaos I'll be walking into. Though maybe it won't be that bad. Case hasn't officially closed so maybe I can offer up help after all." Cheating cases made him feel queasy. Never were truly easy so he hoped for her sake that this one would be a breeze. "I hope that it won't get dragged out into court. I know sometimes it's not so black and white but they wouldn't have come to you if they didn't have confidence you could get this case done and over with without the dragged on notions."

There she went again taking him by surprise knowing something so deeply personal that he hadn't noticed she even knew it. "Mhmm. That would be deathly allergic. But I do carry my epipen so if I happened to ingest some I'd be okay. If I didn't have it then we'd be screwed. Don't worry you can put it in your coffee." Just for good measure he scooted over a bit to be a safe distance from it and smiled going back to his poptart. "Unfortunately I got my grandfather's allergy. Skipped my mom but trickled down to us. Mine is the most severe though. My sisters just get itchy."

"You don't eat?" His shock was audible the more he thought about it and shook his head. "I'll have to tell Dolly to come bark at you at breakfast and lunch and dinner so you can have your meals." He'd do that too no lie. Dolly was easily trainable since she was a former K9 in training.

He smiled that smile that told her he was happy she slept well. "I'm glad. Weird thing. I never can sleep in a new place. Can never get comfortable but last night was different. Your bed is heaven though just saying that." Then remember he had made the bed. "Oh that reminds me I made your bed. I didn't want to leave like that and I tucked the ends underneath the mattress." Wally was neat and organized most times and that did go down to the way he made his own bed.

"They do," he laughed thinking the change in topic was peculiar. "They can never sit still. It was a passion project when we all moved to the islands. My sisters loved horses and Di also grew up riding them so Andy went and bought the land and built the ranch ground up." Normally he was the one asking the left field questions. "They have a ranch actually. That is where we're gonna go. It's in Kaneohe. Which is about 2 hours and change from Lahaina to Kaneohe. So, we don't go often only if it's one of the kids birthdays or when we want to make it a weekend thing. Sometimes I go to keep an eye on things. Their ranch hands keep it running. They stay on property. Andy built them a giant house so they didn't need to go back and forth." One thing was certain, they were paid fairly and treated like family. "You'll get to meet them when we go after I come back from LA. Finally will get to meet Wildfire's filly. She's one."

He pulled his hair behind his ear and shot her a grin. "Good luck." As she said that his phone dinged telling him he was to be headed to the air field. "Actually, perfect timing. I'm gonna head off. I got Jamie to agree to bring Dolly to you before dinner and bedtime so take care of my furry best friend. Enjoy your week and I'll see you for adventure week." His grin was bright as he hopped off the counter and landed on his feet.

[lucabyte]

monologue