#fiasco verse

[fanaticalthings]

the muskification of twitter except it's lex luthor instead of elon lol

<- Prev Masterlist Next ->

[vaggieslefteye]

♫ This place reeks of death, there's a chill in the air. And I barely escaped being killed by a hair. ❝𝐆ʀᴇᴀᴛ 𝐀𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑, 𝐀ʟᴛʀᴜɪsᴛ, 𝐃𝐈𝐄𝐃 𝐅ᴏʀ 𝐇ɪs 𝐅ʀɪᴇɴᴅs?❞ Sorry to disappoint, that is NOT where this ends! ♫

[kingsmedley]

She's safe now. She's back. That's good.

... He just doesn't know where to go from here.

[celestialdetected]

❛  don't be afraid. i'm a friend.  ❜ (from caleb)

Rexxentrum had never been a safe city. But now...

Well, the war with the dynasty had stopped, but it was like once people realized that Rexxentrum could be breached a floodgate had opened.

Arawn was mostly concerned about the cult activity. Cults had always been present in Rexxentrum, a big city in a country with strict religious laws meant that a lot of people had their beliefs pushed to the fringes of society. Hell, from a lawmaker's point of view Arawn was a member of a cult, having clung to his faith in the Everlight. But they had ramped up in recent years after the whole Angel of Irons fiasco. And this...this felt different, this felt like a held breath, like standing at a cliff's edge and preparing to jump.

Arawn didn't like it. And he didn't like that his current investigation into one of the cults had ended in him tearing down the streets of Rexxentrum, firing blasts of magic behind him, trying desperately to heal himself from the cultist's stupid, fucking, poisoned blades.

He had a blade in hand and was holding it to the throat of whoever had just spoken before he'd had a chance to think about what he was doing. A red-haired man who looked more like a scholar than a cultist, but one never could be quite sure.

"Yeah?" And if his words were sharp, bitter things, well, he'd had a rough fucking day."Prove it then."

@astravates

[autism-swagger]

Okay but like. Does no one ever question why some random reporter is always at the center of every single Spider-Man fiasco.

[helreginn]

"I could. But I will not." Hel reached her hand back and booped Felet's nose. "That is Emrys' story to tell. It is painful and traumatic and one day, when he is ready to rest, he will show you." And if he never was? That was okay too. At least he stopped hiding it from Hel and she didn't have to pretend either. She knew and he knew she knew. She spoke to the ghost of his trauma and he wore the echo of it on his sleeves.

But only Emrys had the right to tell the story. She wouldn't speak a word of it before he did.

As for his next remark, the goddess blinked rapidly, entirely taken aback by the question.

"What... the f-..."

Pressing her lips together was not enough to quiet the stunned laughter that forced itself from her throat. "I don't know what you heard, Fee. But Baldr wanted to stay and is also not my uncle.."

Felet frowned, listening intently to Hel as she spoke. He leaned in closer to his mother, trying to ignore the worry that she wouldn’t want him someday. Hel had always understood him, had never flinched at his abilities, had always taken his anxiety seriously.

“He doesn’t really talk about it, just mentions it whenever anything bad happens. Looks at his hands when he’s talking about it too. I don’t suppose you could tell me what that’s about?”

He shifted slightly, drawing his knees up to his chest to rest his chin on them as he thought about what he wanted to ask next.

“Did you really kidnap your uncle?”

[theothervonkarmagirl]

“A real boyfriend would help you hide a body.”

[inkdrinkerworld]

a spider!reader who gives off “sweet girl next door” vibes? she tries to bring miguel cookies with he’s working on something and he scares her, coming off more angry than intended, and ends up dropping them on the floor. (collect groan lmao)

contains minor spoilers to across the spider-verse pt 2

you’d been thinking all day after the whole fiasco of recruiting gwen that miguel needed cheering up.

margo warned you not to, said, ‘he’s a grump. let him grump.’

but you hadn’t been able to take that answer. there was something about miguel that didn’t just scream grump. something seemed tired about him.

so, you tried your hand at baking him something. you’d debated for a long time of chocolate chip cookies or oatmeal cookies were more his style.

you decided on chocolate chip.

you spent two days on them, using a recipe which required brown butter, overnight chilling and a lot of dark chocolate.

you got a lot of flour on you as you baked them, watching them rise and then spread out on the floor of the kitchen.

when they were done you packed them up in a cute purple box you snagged from the cafeteria.

your heart leapt to your throat as you turned down the corner to HQ, hoping that you wouldn’t catch miguel at a bad time.

that hope is decimated when you walk in and find him grumbling to his computer.

“um, miguel?” you’re bouncing on the balls of your feet as you stand in the archway.

“what? what do you need?” he huffs and you feel some of your momentum dry up.

“i brought something for you, but if you’re busy-“ it appears that was the wrong thing to say.

“of course i’m busy! i’m always busy trying to keep the stupid multi-verse from collapsing. maybe some other time we can chit chat.”

you’d never actually been on the receiving end of miguel’s upset, and maybe this wasn’t exactly for you but his tone and the way his arms are flailing around his body makes you feel small in a way that hasn’t happened for a long time.

“right,” you whisper, managing not to cry as you jolt and the box of cookies fall. “i’m sorry for bothering you.”

miguel watches as you don’t even bend to pick up the box. he watches you turn like you’re being remote controlled and he catches sight of your hands wiping at your eyes.

“great, you’ve made her cry casanova.” lyla appears suddenly, foot tapping in air as her arms cross over her chest.

“so now i’m the bad guy?” he asks, but it’s rhetorical. he feels like the bad guy. guilt and shame burn his throat and belly like he’s downed two tequila shots with no lime or salt.

lyla flits to the box, “she made you cookies.”

miguel sighs, hands scrubbing at his face as he steps off the platform to pick up the box. in your neat cursive he notices you’ve written, ‘a pick me from having to do all the hard stuff.’

he wants to smash something. of course he’d blow up at possibly the nicest spider-woman variant. of course he’d be the asshole to make you cry too.

“where is she?” he asks lyla as he sets the box on the desk and opens it to find the cookies all broken. they smell delicious - something close to that bakery you liked when you’d visited earth-2067 with him on a scouting mission.

you and miguel always make a great team on missions and he hates to admit it but he’s very fond of you and he knows you're fond of him too.

it’s why his chest is aching and he needs to find you. “lyla, where is she?”

“in her room, blasting music and cleaning. give the girl a moment alone before you barge in there and make it worse.”

[cryptophasiac]

i’m sorry but-

@cryptophasiac saw this and said "i think i get it because if i looked at this skyline while i was high out of my mind maybe i would've written this city too"

[agaypanic]

can you do a rodrick one shot where you're best friends and you're in love with him but he's too obsessed over Heather to notice? and you finally tell him after he's upset about how her birthday party ended up . a little smutty

Wish I Was Heather (Rodrick Heffley X Reader)

Masterlist

Request Something!

Summary: Rodrick’s obsession with Heather Hills makes him blind to the fact that you, his best friend, have been in love with him for a long time. When Heather’s birthday party turns into a fiasco and Rodrick thinks no one will ever love him, you finally decide to tell him the truth.

A/N: kinda based on heather by conan gray, and a small reference to the og second verse of the song. not too canon compliant with dog days bc i dont really remember the plot of it. alludes to smut a bit but isn’t explicit

***

It was a miserable sight. As sad music played, you were lying in bed, curled up in Rodrick’s checkered hoodie. Your best friend was playing with his band at Heather Hills’ birthday party. It seemed that he was absolutely in love with her, and you couldn’t really blame him. Sure, she wasn’t the nicest person, but she was popular and beautiful. It never surprised you when you were talking to Rodrick about something, and all of a sudden, he would tune you out just because she was walking past him.

Sometimes, you wished you could be her so Rodrick would look at you that way. Even kiss her just to see what your best friend really saw in her.

If you had to guess, he’s probably confessing to her right now. He said he would, that tonight was the night. Although she had never done anything to you, and you didn’t want Rodrick to hurt, you slightly hoped that she’d stomp on his heart just so you wouldn’t lose him to her.

It wasn’t fair. Him being so mesmerized by Heather Hills when you were right there.

You groaned as you felt your phone buzz in your back pocket. You didn’t want to be bothered, yet you still reached into your pocket and pulled out the device, squinting at your suddenly bright screen.

Roddy

can i come over?

You knit your brows in confusion as you read the message. Of all people, you weren’t expecting Rodrick to text you. And of all messages, you didn’t expect him to ask to come over. To be honest, you were pretty sure that he was busy trying to shove his tongue down Heather Hills’ throat.

Before you could respond, he sent another text.

Roddy

pls :(( 

You

what’s up?

Roddy

party sux

You sighed. Part of you liked the fact that Rodrick was turning to you to cure his boredom, but you wished he saw you as more than entertainment. You wished even more that you didn’t give in to him so easily.

You

window’s unlocked

Less than a minute after you sent your message, you jumped at the sound of something, or rather someone, at the aforementioned window. You turned your head just enough to see Rodrick hanging onto your drain pipe as he opened the window.

“Hey.” He said quietly, falling through the opening and onto your floor. You turned to lay flat on your back, staring up at the ceiling while Rodrick flopped onto the bed next to you.

“Hi.” You looked over at Rodrick, finding his face a mess. His messy eyeliner was messier than usual, and he looked exhausted and miserable. “What happened to you?”

“Heather Hills.” The name was said with a pout and whine instead of the usual captivated tone.

“What about her?” You didn’t mean to ask, not wanting to hear about his obsession with the girl any more than you’ve already had. But curiosity got the best of you.

“I pretty much ruined her birthday party. Now there’s no way she’ll ever go out with me.” You snorted, wondering what he must have done. Rodrick looked offended at your reaction, but continued. “It was a complete disaster. I had Ben play the drums so I could sing, and we did that one Justin Beiber song. I tried to hold her hand, but… I ended up knocking over an ice sculpture.” You couldn’t help but laugh. It was strange how the misfortune of the person you loved regarding the girl he was obsessed with was bringing you out of your own miserable mood. “Then she tried hitting me with a microphone stand, but she hit the chocolate fountain. After that, I thought I should make a run for it.”

You were full-on belly laughing at the visuals Rodrick was giving you, no matter how much you tried to contain yourself. Rodrick frowned at you, so you slapped your hand over your mouth to muffle yourself.

“Only something like that could happen to you, Roddy.” You giggled, but it died down when his lip started to tremble. This scared you; you rarely ever saw Rodrick like this. “What? What’s wrong?”

“What if that was my one chance?” He asked, his voice small. He turned onto his side, facing you and curling up. You mirrored his position. “Like, what if that was the only shot I’d ever get with a girl, and I just blew it? What if no girl ever wants to be with me?”

“Oh, that’s not true, Roddy.” You cooed, patting his arm. “Don’t be dramatic, girls like you.”

“Oh yeah? How do you know?”

“I just know.”

“Prove it.” He took your silence as confirmation that you couldn’t, and he clicked his tongue. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

“Rodrick.” You sighed, shifting closer to him. “Girls do like you.” You figured now would be as good a time as any to tell your best friend that you were in love with him, even if it was just to make him feel better. “I know one girl likes you, at least.”

“Who?” He gave a short laugh of disbelief, looking down at you. 

You were too scared to say it. So, instead, you reached for his hand, slowly interlocking your fingers as you looked at him. Rodrick didn’t say anything, either trying to come up with a response or not getting your little hint at all.

“I know I can never be Heather.” You start, the both of you cringing a bit at the name. It seemed that the girl brought a sour taste to both of your mouths now. “But I love you for you, Rodrick.” Feeling brave, your free hand went to cup his jaw, and he seemed to relax under your touch. Something came over you, and you bit your lip to try to contain yourself. “I can show you…”

For someone who didn’t usually get clues, Rodrick seemed to know what you were alluding to, his eyebrows raising slightly in surprise. He seemed like he was about to agree, but he stopped himself. 

“You don’t have to do that… You know, just to make me feel better.”

“I want to.” You responded quickly. “I mean, if you want to, obviously. But if you don’t, then we can just pretend I never-”

Rodrick cut you off by pressing his lips to yours, and they soon moved in tandem. Hands turned greedy with their grips, and soon Rodrick was rolling to lay on top of you.

You’d probably regret this later. But for now, you didn’t care. Even if you weren’t Heather or whoever Rodrick probably wished you were, you were the one that was in your bed with him. You could worry about the aftermath and consequences later because all that mattered now was you and Rodrick and what was about to happen as you took off your clothes, starting with Rodrick’s hoodie that he gently pulled off of you.

And as he kissed you and grasped at your hips, Rodrick realized that the girl of his dreams was never Heather. She was right beneath him, shuddering at his touches and whispering sweet nothings that would be everything to him.

***

Rodrick Heffley Taglist: @tweedledipshit

[padfootagain]

Love in Verses (X)

Chapter 10 : [I] was angry that my trust could not repose in the clear light, like poetry or freedom leaning in from sea

Hi! Here is another chapter! Today: lots of misogyny, the academic world being what it is, and some time spent at the beach with our best boy Elwood!

****

Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader (professor!AU)

Warnings: slow burn, angst, hurt, hurt/comfort, tooth-rotting fluff in later chapters, some scenes in later chapters will have heavy sexual themes even if it’s not explicit nsfw description, so minors here

Summary: Your life seems perfect. You're engaged, your career is thriving as you become an assistant professor at Trinity College, and this Andrew Hozier-Byrne you're sharing an office with seems to be a nice guy you hope to call a friend soon. Life seems to be smiling at you... until everything goes sour. When your fiancé breaks up with you, your perfect world shatters. And when your colleague also gets his heart broken soon after, your shared office seems to be a curse rather than a blessing. But Andrew seems determined to mend your broken hearts... Will things finally go according to plan?

Word Count: 4344

Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s masterlist – Main masterlist

Oysters

Our shells clacked on the plates. My tongue was a filling estuary, My palate hung with starlight: As I tasted the salty Pleiades Orion dipped his foot into the water.

Alive and violated, They lay on their bed of ice: Bivalves: the split bulb And philandering sigh of ocean Millions of them ripped and shucked and scattered.

We had driven to that coast Through flowers and limestone And there we were, toasting friendship, Laying down a perfect memory In the cool of thatch and crockery.

Over the Alps, packed deep in hay and snow, The Romans hauled their oysters south of Rome: I saw damp panniers disgorge The frond-lipped, brine-stung Glut of privilege

And was angry that my trust could not repose In the clear light, like poetry or freedom Leaning in from sea. I ate the day Deliberately, that its tang Might quicken me all into verb, pure verb.

Seamus Heaney, Field Work, 1979

Lunchtime with Andrew and Colm had turned into lunchtime with half the department somehow…

You were tired, you wanted to go home. A few weeks into teaching, you were already starting to feel the familiar tug of exhaustion. You had a thousand things to prepare for your research, books to read, articles to go through… And Andrew and you were still trying to fight against Sam and Frank’s marriage the best you could.

After the flower fiasco, out of which Andrew had managed to gain a moment of glory and a longing gaze from Sam, the two of you were working on a way to make you shine in Frank’s eyes. The perfect gift to offer the couple as they were moving in together seemed a good occasion. You had spent most of your evening the previous day browsing the internet with Andrew. He had come over to your place, had left well after midnight, didn’t want to disturb you by sleeping in the second bedroom. And you had fun, that was the strangest part of your evening. You had fun looking for gifts with Andrew, it had turned into finding the most ridiculous items available for purchase, and you had laughed until your eyes watered at his silly jokes. It was a sad thing to realise this had been the more you had laughed since Frank had left you…

You had stopped listening to the on-going conversation about a writer you didn’t know, your mind wandering away from your lunch to settle back on the previous evening. You were beginning to pick on some of his habits, noticing details about him. He hummed a lot, he tilted his head when thinking, ran his fingers through his hair when he was focused, he rubbed at his neck, his chin, his cheek when he was nervous or uncomfortable, pushed up his sleeves often too. Last night, when the conversation drifted away from your exes and onto the last museum you had visited, his head was tilted, his gaze stern and unwavering while he listened intently to you. It felt strange, to be near someone who listened to you so fully. Frank didn’t…

Your heart and chest grew warm at the memory of Andrew getting ready to leave. After midnight, he made a joke about the Gremlins when you offered him one last drink or bite to eat before he would leave, feeling guilty for your conversation and planning to have robbed the two of you of a decent dinner, your stomachs filled only with biscuits and coffee. He was putting on his coat when he joked about making a mess of your apartment if you fed him now, you both laughed at the silliness of it. You waited for him to wrap a warm scarf around his throat, to cover his ears with a beanie.

“Good night, Andrew.”

Simple words, and yet they made him look at you. You noticed the way his head bent a little, as if leaning towards you. His eyes were so green at such an ungodly hour, tiredness making the brown of his eyes recede. He offered you a shy smile, fidgeting with the sleeves of his warm grey coat.

“Andy.”

You stared at him in silence, surprised by his answer. His smile widened when he went on.

“Andy’s just fine, Y/N.”

You could only smile up at him then, you noticed the way his cheeks were flushed when you repeated his name.

He was so cute…

“That’s a little too much though, this whole thing about a feminist rewriting of history. To give classes about that… what a joke…”

Patterson’s words tore you away from your happy memory, pushed you right back in the present, in the reality you faced daily. University was not as progressive as it longed to be seen as, you were a painful witness of that…

You remembered the list of names Andrew had spontaneously given you during your first week. You reckoned his selection was spot on. Patterson was no exception. Mahoney was nodding enthusiastically, and you chose to ignore them. You were too tired, too emotionally exhausted to go through that kind of misogynistic conversation. You forced yourself not to listen to Andrew’s and Colm’s answers as they entered the debate, defending your side.

But then Andrew looked at you, spoke your name, and you were forced into reality again.

“Asking for help because you’ve run out of arguments?” Mahoney asked Andrew, and it was supposed to sound like mockery but it was too bitter for that.

“Y/N is literally an expert in what we’re discussing and a woman, don’t you think you should listen to her rather than your stupid biased views on such a matter?”

“I know plenty about the matter.”

“What a misogynistic answer… thank you for proving my point about your absolute ignorance.”

“And you’re an expert?”

“I’m not. That’s why I ask someone who’s dedicating her life to the voices of women and who is a woman when discussing something about women.”

Andrew’s breathing was heavy, his eyes stone cold and sharp. You had only seen him angry once before, that night you had learnt about your exes’ engagement. It made his voice deeper than usual, a low rumble that was scarier than the loud booming voice Frank used during arguments. His impressive stature wasn’t helping. And yet, when Andrew turned to you, his eyes were soft again, his voice back to its usual warmth, and he didn’t seem intimidating anymore.

“Do you want to add something?”

You didn’t, but the conversation was happening, and fleeing would only result in more violent views being expressed next time. So, you sharply looked over at your two mocking colleagues, and got to work.

You countered every argument, you offered numbers and examples even though you knew it would make no difference. After a while, you were getting angry more than annoyed. Colm and Andrew were backing you up every now and then, but the rest of your colleagues seemed uninterested by the debate at best, at worst they were enjoying the argument.

You let out a wry chuckle at Patterson, who was now not even trying to find arguments, but straight up rejecting your facts.

“How scientific of you to dismiss proven facts simply because they don’t fit your narrative…” you fought back with sarcasm, and he glowered at you. “And you call yourself an academic?”

“Hey! I’m not attacking your professionalism…”

“Are you not? As Andrew said, I’m the expert in this field. I am studying this issue and the impact of misogyny and patriarchy. And yet, you dismiss all my arguments without any proof whatsoever, without offering another explanation. You are only rejecting facts that do not fit your view of the world, or to be more precise, the world that brings you in a position of power over others. You enjoy the system that favours you instead of favouring everyone.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“You are ridiculous, claiming to have arguments when all you have are thoughts and no facts or proof whatsoever. I do have those. You’re a misogynistic man who clings to his tiny bit of power and feels emasculated if anyone dares to contradict him. You’re pathetic.”

You shot up, standing in a hurry and grabbing your stuff before heading back to your office. You didn’t pay attention to the discontented grumble that followed you, nor the scratch of another chair being pushed away from the table. You didn’t notice Andrew was following you until you were outside the room, heading for the stairs to go back to your office. You turned to him with a surprised expression painted all over your features.

“Andy?”

“Hmm?”

You stared at him in silence for a moment.

“You’re okay?” he asked with warmth in his voice and gaze.

“Yeah… I’m okay. I’m used to it.”

You didn’t like lying, but it was only half a lie. You were used to it, it happened more often than you had expected when you had chosen this career. You thought that the world of knowledge was a progressive one, a world filled with open minds. What a fool you had been… how naïve…

Now, you were growing numb to it, to some extent. The animosity was never far away. The attempts at slowing down, blocking, or even ending your career were a threat too. And you wished you could say you didn’t care at all by now, but you did. You did, and it drove you mad how frustrated you felt in front of such injustice, over the weight that was put onto your shoulders, over the exhaustion that came with constantly having to prove yourself, over the doubts that slithered there through your system even if you tried not to listen. It was the hardest part of your job, by far.

And then there were a few good ones like Andrew who gave you faith in humanity all over again.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, shifting his weight from one leg to the other, rubbing at his neck.

“It’s not your fault. On the contrary… thank you, for taking my side.”

“Of course.”

“And thank you for asking me. For including me in the conversation. For recognising the need to put me at the centre of the argument, instead of a male voice.”

You let out a chuckle as you opened the door of your shared office.

“I bet your mam taught you well.”

He grinned, fondness evident in his eyes as he talked about his parents. You had noticed how love was always in his gaze when he spoke of his family.

“Yeah… trying to put in practice what she taught me.”

“Thank you.”

“You’ll never have to thank me for something like this.”

You tried to ignore how much that fight had shaken you, but you could barely focus all afternoon, and Andrew seemed to notice. It was still early when he turned off his computer and grabbed his coat, then planted his tall frame in front of your desk.

“Come on, let’s go to the beach.”

You stared at him with a blank stare, blinking.

“The beach?”

“Lunch got me worked up… I can’t focus on anything. I need to clear my head, and to me, there’s no better place for that than the sea. So… come on! Let’s go to the beach!”

“I have work to do.”

“You’ll work tomorrow.”

“Andrew…”

“Andy,” he corrected you with a warm smile, and you couldn’t refrain your own grin.

“Andy,” you repeated. “I’ve got things to do!”

“Yes! And they include breathing the fresh air of the sea, listening to the waves and having fun!”

“And freezing to death? It’s November… in case you’ve forgotten.”

“I haven’t forgotten… I go swimming almost every morning.”

You stared at him with unfaltering eyes.

“You’re insane.”

“I need to go home first, but we can meet up by the coast? I know a nice spot.”

“Okay.”

“Do you like dogs?”

You raised a surprised eyebrow at his question, it was coming out of nowhere.

“Erm… yes… of course…”

“Good. I mean… I have to get my dog. He will never forgive me if I go to the beach without him.”

“You have a dog?! How cute! What kind of dog is he?”

Andrew chuckled at that.

“I don’t know… some kind of mix between a border collie and… something else. I have no clue.”

Your expression softened as you smiled. He looked away, his cheeks turning a bright shade of pink under the darkness of his beard.

“Alright, I’ll text you the address of the nearest village, and I’ll guide you the rest of the way.”

“You’re not about to murder me and get rid of my body in some deserted creek, are you?”

He laughed at your joke, bright and loud, and you were quite proud of that, of being responsible for such a sound.

“No guarantees…”

“I should decline then…”

“Hey! You need to live a more adventurous kind of life! Take risks!”

“You could be planning on feeding me to your dog.”

“Now that you mention it, he hasn’t had his ration of human flesh this week.”

“See? That’s what I’m saying!”

You both laughed, Andrew shook his head fondly at you.

“Elwood is a good boy, don’t worry. I won’t be long.”

You were shutting off your computer as well when Andrew exited the room.

You had hurried to the tiny village, spotted a shop and were now motionless in the middle of the aisle, staring at rubber bones and colourful balls.

Andrew should have reached the village fifteen minutes ago, but you were starting to get used to his chronical lateness. He seemed to never be on time for anything. “Time blindness”, he called it. Whatever it was, there was no need to worry. He would show up eventually, apologise profusely, with a mix of guilt and embarrassment on his face, and then you would tell him it was alright because you couldn’t find it in you to be annoyed at him, and he would look at you again and smile…

You smiled as you reached for a squishy ball, with little flowers painted on it. Yellow and white. Daisies.

You bought the toy, went back to your car to wait for Andrew. He arrived almost thirty minutes late, hurried out of his car and secured his dog on a leash before walking over to you. The guilt and embarrassment you were expecting were painted all over his features, indeed.

“I’m sorry… it took me longer than I thought to pick this one up,” he explained with a nod towards his dog.

“That’s okay. And God, you’re adorable,” you said to the dog, crouching down to let the dog approach you. “What’s his name?”

“Elwood.”

The dog seemed to immediately like you, he let you pet his head, wiggling his tail in delight.

“Oh, yes… you’re a good boy!” you cooed. “Here, I’ve bought you something!”

You stood straighter again, offered the ball to Andrew.

He stared at you with bewilderment.

“You… you bought him a toy?”

“Yes! I love dogs! I hope I can have one, someday…”

“You… you shouldn’t have…”

“It makes me happy.”

Andrew couldn’t find any argument against that.

“Thank you.”

You headed towards the beach together. Elwood was obedient yet excited, clearly recognising where you were heading. It was sunny despite the cold weather, you readjusted your scarf a couple of times, put on your gloves after a while. And it was easy to find a topic of conversation with Andrew. First work, your classes, your research as you reached the beach. Then politics as you walked across the sand, sending the ball away for Elwood to catch and bring back. Then movies and art as you watched the waves roll towards you. And then your broken hearts when you were sitting in the sand, side by side, watching over Elwood who was running around by the edge of the water.

The sand was soft under your fingers, your gaze set on the horizon, an infinity of blues and greens, of white waves and the moving shapes of seagulls.

“Are you coming to the dinner next week?” Andrew asked, his deep voice breaking the quiet of the cold sea.

You heaved a sigh, closed your eyes for a second. Frank and Sam had invited both you and Andrew to have dinner in some expansive restaurant in Dublin. A way to ‘get a brand-new start’, Frank had called it. You thought it was rather a new way to get your heart broken, but you didn’t have a choice. If you wanted Frank back, you couldn’t miss any opportunity to see him.

“Of course, I’m coming.”

You opened your eyes to look at Andrew as he slowly nodded.

“I’m glad you’re coming,” he confessed. “I was worried to go on my own.”

“Don’t worry. We’re a team for this! We said we would help each other out, and we will. We’ll get the people we love back.”

Andrew smiled, a gesture grateful, but tainted with sorrow. He set his green eyes on the horizon, you watched as the loose curls that had escaped his man-bun were floating in the wind. But then you followed his gaze, stared at the wildness of the sea, its everchanging shape, and you wondered if anything was meant to last in this world, if anything at all could be called permanent…

“What’s going to happen, then? If we fail, if we can’t get them back, if they really don’t love us anymore… what will happen then?”

Andrew was silent for a moment, staring at you now. You could feel his gaze set upon your face, but you couldn’t look at him. It was easier to search for where the sky met the sea.

“Then… we’ll go through hell.”

You let out a long exhale. His voice was quiet, barely there over the wind. Deep, calm, aching.

“We’ll suffer. A lot. And eventually, we’ll get over it.”

“How?”

“I don’t know yet.”

“I don’t think that I could love anyone else the way I love Frank.”

“We don’t have to love them the same way we love Frank and Sam. On the contrary, I think every love we feel is unique. It’s shaped by the person we feel so intensely for. I’ll never love anyone the way I love Sam. But maybe I’ll be able to have a love that’s just as important. It will simply be… different.”

“Missing him feels like grieving.”

“Hmm… Missing her feels like grieving too. It’s the same kind of… void. The emptiness that’s left behind. The silence, the habit of opening your mouth to speak to them, but remembering they’re gone, that there’s no one left to listen to you now, and closing your mouth again… a mouth that’s rendered useless now, as there is nobody left to listen to you anyway.”

Slowly, you nodded, feeling your throat tightening at the pain in Andrew’s voice, at the way his thoughts echoed your own.

“I forget that he’s gone all the time,” you nodded, sniffling, although you weren’t crying. “I just… forget… and then I remember, and it hurts all over again.”

“Yeah… me too.”

The wind was so cold, it felt like knives entering the skin of your cheekbones. You readjusted your beanie so it would perfectly cover your ears. Every time either of you spoke, a tiny cloud was born from your lips, and died in the wind.

Andrew’s dog was unaware of your sadness, unaware of the hole that was gnawing a little bit more every day at your heart. He was happy running around the beach, chasing after birds, playing with the waves.

You smiled, soft and sad and filled with the want to forget again.

“I really like your dog a lot,” you chuckled.

Andrew looked at his pet as well, a tender smile on his lips.

“I’m glad,” was his only answer.

“He’s a good boy.”

He hummed softly, rubbing at his cold hands.

“I don’t think Sam likes him very much.”

“Really?”

“I don’t think she likes dogs in general all that much. She was always nice to him, don’t get me wrong. But I don’t think she loved him. When I do. I love him. He’s family.”

“Of course, he is,” you answered with an unmistakable fondness in your voice, one that made Andrew look at you again.

You could feel him shifting next to you, guessed that he hesitated to ask a question. You encouraged him to ask whatever he wanted. You were in a confessing mood, after all.

“What’s your dream?”

You looked up at him with a questioning look, surprised at his question coming out of the blue.

“What do you mean?”

“Do you have a dream? Or… did you have one? When you were younger?”

You blinked up at him, feeling silly as you thought of an answer.

Of course you had dreams. You had tons of them.

“I’ve learnt a long time ago that dreams don’t come true.”

He frowned at your answer, his gaze saddened at your words.

“If you could make one true, what dream would it be?”

You blinked tears away, set your gaze on the sea again.

Blue. Blue and splashes of white. A thousand hues of those colours, as far as the eye could see. Such a beauty… And the sound of the waves reaching the shore, curling into white foam, regular like a pattern, soft like a melody.

“I really wanted to be loved for who I am. I just… I would really like for someone to love me. To care about what I think, to care about what I have to say, to hold me when I feel sad. I just… I would really like to feel safe, just once. To have someone… who would treat me as their equal, someone for whom I wouldn’t have to overthink each answer, someone with whom I wouldn’t have to fight to have a chance to be listened to. Sometimes I… It’s so hard to be a woman sometimes. It feels like I’m always fighting. Fighting for my rights, fighting for a chance to be who I want, fighting to be listened to, fighting to be taken seriously, fighting to get my life together, fighting to meet people’s expectation, fighting… for everything. I just… I want to have someone who would make me feel safe enough so I could stop fighting around them. It’s a lot to ask.”

“It shouldn’t be.”

You were surprised by his words, but when you looked at him, his stare was stern and unwavering.

“Did you feel like that with Frank? Did you feel safe enough to be yourself?”

You bit on your lip, hesitated on whether to lie or tell the truth. You didn’t feel like lying though…

“Not all the time.”

You let out a sad chuckle.

“But it’s just a dream, Andy. Dreams don’t come true. I can’t offer to stop fighting. If I do, I’ll just end up giving up… And I’ve done so much already to get my career, to be who I am today… I can’t rest, not when there’s no one to offer me a place to do so. And there will never be anyone to offer it to me. People are too flawed for that.”

You were surprised when Andrew reached for your hand, but you let him touch your skin, wrap his fingers around yours. His hand was so much larger than yours…

“I really wish you could have someone who would make you feel this way. I wish… I wish you didn’t have to fight in the first place.”

You looked up at him, blinking tears away.

“You’re so strong,” he whispered, and there was something close to awe in his expression, although you couldn’t believe that someone could have such feeling aimed at you. “I hope you know that, at least. That you’re unbelievably strong.”

You smiled, and so did Andrew. A genuine smile, that wasn’t so sad anymore.

“What about you? What was your dream?”

Andrew let go of your hand, rested his forearms on his knees as he looked at Elwood, checking that his dog was alright, but he was still busy running after seagulls.

“I wanted to be a musician, once.”

“A musician?”

“Yeah… I used to sing a lot. Played guitar too. I still do, with old friends.”

“What made you decide to be an academic then?”

A pause, filled with Elwood’s happy barks, the distant cries of seabirds, the regular whisper of the sea.

“There were sacrifices to be made. I didn’t want to make them. I thought I could, for a while. I had a few opportunities. But they were all… They were not me. There were talks for an album at one point, an opportunity for me to sing and be paid for it. But they wouldn’t have been my songs. They were pop hits in the making. They were aimed to please others. And I… I didn’t want to do that. I had things to say, and I wanted to tell them my way. It didn’t work out. And then my father…”

He blinked tears away, and you said nothing. He cleared his throat.

“My father had surgery when he was younger. He had some trouble again a few years ago. He’s fine now, and it wasn’t anything serious, but… I don’t know, I think… I thought about the cost that having a life on the road would have. If I wanted to make music the way I wanted to, it would cost me even more than a pop hit would. And I was in love with Sam, and my family needed me, and I thought… I thought it wasn’t worth it. At one point, I had to choose between studying or music. I changed majors from music to literature, finally had the opportunity to study things I was interested in. I didn’t drop out. Instead, I stayed in Dublin, I gave up on the hope of having a career as a musician.”

“Do you regret it?”

“Sometimes,” he admitted. “More so since Sam has left.”

You playfully nudged him.

“Hey! We wouldn’t have met had you become a rockstar! So, it’s not all that bad! I’m glad you chose a life where we could become friends.”

He looked at you, hazel turning fully green in the pale light of winter, cheeks pinkish in the cold. His nose was a little red, his gaze tender as it rested upon yours.

“I’m glad we could become friends too, Y/N. I’m really glad about that.”

You exchanged a smile, rested your head on his shoulder, wrapped your arm around his. You both remained silent for a long time, staring at the sea, the beach, the birds, Elwood still having the time of his life. And you were content to say nothing, to simply be there next to Andrew.

Your cheek felt warm while it rested against him.

[atopfourthwall]

To Linkara: Love your videos, especially when you review good comics. Also loved the Fortnite stream you did with other ComicTubers, it's nice to see you being a part of a bigger community again after that fiasco with the other site that shall not be named.

Been meaning to ask you something for a long time, but I couldn't think of what specifically. Problem is I'm a curious person by nature and I also like to ramble. However, while rewatching your Contest of Champions video (great arc, BTW, even if it took longer than expected), a decent question finally hit me. As someone who's a fan of Doctor Who, What If tales, the original Secret Wars and Crisis on Infinite Earths, do you think Hollywood has overused the multiverse idea? I almost got into an argument with someone on YouTube about the subject where I proclaimed the idea still has merit, it's just the folks running Tinsel Town were failed to be creative with it. Heck, to me the idea is like zombies: sure, it can feel repetitive, but that's only if you don't do anything new or original with it. Movies like Spider-Verse have proven as much. Then again, that's just me. Your thoughts?

I still love multiverse stuff and things like No Way Home or Deadpool & Wolverine have shown how the multiverse can be used to give fanservice, while Spiderverse, Loki, and Multiverse of Madness have shown the story potential of meeting alternate universe versions that reflect character development for our main character... but the problem especially with the MCU is that it feels like they don't have much in the way of a PLAN for it. Sure, Kang was being set up as the next big bad and they're shifting to Doom, but even before then it feels like there wasn't much of a story beyond "There are a lot of Kangs." Sure, with Thanos we didn't know his deal beyond the Infinity Stones being powerful until we actually reached him, but you could get the idea how dangerous it was even without that. Still, I think multiverse stuff is still fun and cool as long as it's used in creative ways... and hopefully people will feel the same with the next storyline once it launches. =)

[adelha-mathilde]

The lady gives an unhappy grumble before sighing in vehemence. The silken pink strands feeling as soft as spider thread. The faint scent of raspberry lemonade wafting off of Adelha as she gives Renji a smile. "I doubt it will wash out until next month. Curse that sneaky soul who decided to replace my shampoo."

The lady then looks at Renji to see his smile. Which brings the twinkle back into her eyes for her to hum at him. "Do you really think it suits me? Perhaps I should wear a lilac sundress or kimono to accent it?"

Adelha is grumbling as she sits beside Renji. Her hair a bubblegum pink as she quietly fumes over her shampoo getting swapped.

Unprompted ||| Always Accepting @adelha-mathilde

Renji just giving a soft chuckle as she sits down - easily spotting her from a distance away from her now neon bright hair. "It's not so bad," he tries to comfort her, reaching up and running two fingers down a soft strand. He tucks it behind her ear, patting her on the head ash e does so.

"It suits ya." The color reminded him of a certain energetic vice captain back in the Seireitei, but their personalities couldn't be more different. Perhaps their love of sweets was just about the same, though.

"At least it'll wash out soon, hm?"

[jungle-angel]

Take it Easy (Rhett Abbott x Reader)

Summary: Stress is really getting to you, but luckily, your husband knows what to do

You were stressed out beyond words, the ache in your neck and the side of your head practically throbbing. Your eyes burned with the onset of tears and felt as though they were going to pop right out of your head. 

It has started at the hippie school you taught at, your eighth graders on edge from the onset of spring fever, the stress of having to plan main lesson blocks for the next three months and meetings with the other teachers and staff. You were so dead set on getting everything in on time that you had forgotten to eat lunch and during the last hour of the day, you had mixed up the dismissal time and nearly sent everyone home too early. 

Everything just kept piling up, the stress from school, you and Rhett trying to keep up with the ranch work and everything else in between. You wanted nothing more than to run across the street to the church, hide in the confessional and just cry. 

On the way home, you had gotten a text from Royal stating that Diesel had wound up on the wrong side of a porcupine encounter. You had begun to wonder how that loveable ding-dong of a Rottweiler managed to get himself into shit like that and only have to spend one night at the vet’s. 

You pulled the truck to a stop and parked it in front of the garage, practically stumbling up to the door and hanging your bag up in the mudroom. You couldn’t hold it back anymore. The tears started to flow, your body aching horribly and your eyes and throat burning with emotion. 

You parked it at the kitchen table, burying your face in hour arms as a shuddering sob broke you from all around. You didn’t even notice the sound of wheels on the driveway gravel, the shutting of another truck door or the door in the mudroom opening and shutting. 

“Darlin?” Rhett called. “Sweetheart? (Y/n) you in here?” 

You wearily lifted your head, your lips reddened along with your eyes and your neck sorer than ever. You couldn’t even croak out a response, not even when he saw the sorry look on your face. Rhett dropped his backpack near the island counter and made his way over to the table, taking your hand in his, waiting for you to say something. But when you didn’t, Rhett knew something was wrong. 

“You wanna talk about it?” he asked. 

You nodded a little. 

“Alright darlin,” he said, inching a little closer. “You go first.” 

You told him everything, how exhausted you felt, the worry that was on your mind and everything else that had been eating you since early that morning. Rhett took you right into his arms and held you as your tears stained his shirt. 

“Baby I’m sorry,” he murmured. 

“I’m just so stressed,” you croaked. 

“I know,” Rhett replied, pressing his lips against your forehead. “I know. I had a rough day too.” 

You listened as Rhett told you about a little fiasco that had happened earlier in the afternoon when he had been helping Father O’Keefe down at St. Mike’s. The youth pastor had called out sick and Rhett had offered to fill in even though Rhett didn’t usually help until Sunday after services. Well, sure enough, the group was all boys from the high schools who had all but hit the worst throes of puberty imaginable and were picking out the verses from the bible that made them giggle. 

“It took everything in my power not to take the bible in my hands and smack one of’em on the back of the head with it,” Rhett chuckled. 

You laughed a little with him and soon the stress had begun to fall away. “Here,” Rhett said. “Come with me, I’ll get ya’ll settled.” 

You and him went upstairs and into the bathroom where Rhett turned on the water and began to run you a hot bath. He searched the cabinet until he found a mason jar full of dried lilac sprigs you had picked over the summer, taking a handful and spreading them into the water. 

You stripped off your clothes and stepped in, the water melting the stress away from your body as you let out an obscene moan. “Thank you Rhett,” you groaned. 

“Darlin it’s all good,” he assured you, kissing your shoulders, neck and cheek. “I’d do this for you any day of the week.” 

You relaxed but Rhett never once left your side, just talking with you and laughing about all the embarrassing parts of your day. It was timed like this that you were grateful to have Rhett as your husband. 

[sandbees]

Random idea but a Yuu being a cyborg like Penny is in RWBY. They have a soul because their parent litteraly split their own soul to give them one, and thus their own personality, they act oblivious to stuff and social cues because they don't have experience with that sort of stuff, however due to their parent being protective of them they are more than a little combat ready. Really they are similar to Penny as a Pinocchio parallel. Also imagine them just vibing with Idia and Ortho. Just, INTERACTIONS!

Yuu and Ortho meet eyes for one second and now they're best buds. 10/10 they would totally destroy the school for each other.

I'm so sorry they'd probably download the Queen of Heart's rules in a night to make sure they don't mess up in Chapter 1, thus avoiding the tart fiasco (Riddle still ends up getting mad at Ace for another rule he broke during the Unbirthday Party though)

I dread to think Yuu accidentally breaking the rules though, not to spite Riddle, but because some of the rules are based on social cues, which Yuu DOESN'T notice.

I think Yuu would love learning about the hobbies the cast goes on. Like...They can't sleep but they'd play a lullaby that they remember their parent singing to them, just to hang out with Leona who slept by the third verse-

Yuu would totally allow Rook or Vil to braid their hair or make a new style out of it. They also enjoy exploring the local fashion - asking them for fashion advice.

Sadly, they can't swim due to cyborg parts :/ Yuu does work in Mostro Lounge for the experience. (The octo trio don't take advantage of them though. Whether by their own violation or Ortho made a promise that it'd be ON SIGHT is up to you)

I think their friends would find their stories of the RWBY world fascinating. Especially their world's fight against the Grimm.

(Lowkey, I'd think Yuu would double take when Grim says his name. Cue a lot of careful watching to make sure Grim isn't some demon hellbent on killing people)

[blitzxiiru]

Your Future 2012 AU is choice stuff. Your drawing style is so fun! Seriously, your representation of Leo is one of my favorites to exist on the internet.

Curious what April would be like? More pointedly, what Donnie’s attitude towards April these days?

THANK YOU FOR THE KIND WORDS ANON!! and omgomg i have the privilege of my leo being someone’s favourite im sskhsjhdjsbss <33

before i answer the question, i have to state that i’m not exactly big on shipping in the 12 tmnt verse, especially when the writers fucked up all the love interests and their plot (COUGH karai being leos sister and they still push them together?!? COUGH) (COUGH april, casey and donnie were just a whole mess COUGHS CHOKES) so i don’t exactly ship anyone. it’s just a me thing, but if you like apritello or jonatello or all of them together it’s fine! you just won’t see them as a couple canonly in my future au, cause to me they’re all just very close besties that like to tease each other :) maybe ill draw them if someone specifically requests for it, but otherwise i wont actively ship them lol

soo moving forward with that set in place, in my au donnie isn’t looking through rose-coloured glasses at april anymore. honestly with the way 2012 writers wrote them, it was more of obsessive infatuation rather than love, and it really wasn’t healthy. after the whole fiasco post season 5, donnie is much more mature now and realised that he wasn’t in love with april herself, he was in love with the idea of her. the concept of april that he fabricated in his lovesick brain. they talked about it, and they both got over the situation. so yeah april stayed as donnie’s ex crush and everyone teases the hell out of their teenager selves. at the end of the day they stayed as besties who discuss how to murder someone while wearing 10 inch tall stilettos

(( the wake up call for donnie would be after that episode where possessed april literally fucking disintegrates him. like he suddenly just had this ‘oh my god’ moment where he realised maybe this crush thing wasn’t as worth it as it seemed. don’t blame the poor guy for losing feelings — he literally got poofed into nothing but atoms by the hands of his crush — spare his feelings LMAO ))