#had fun with the effects on this one though

[building-made-of-paper]

Story time!

My mother loves poker. She played all throughout college and grad school and sometimes goes to poker nights with friends. Nothing crazy high stakes (though she's played with people who make a living off of it) but she does believe that if you're not betting something it's not worth playing. As you might guess, she's more than a little bit competitive.

She has always wanted my sister and I to play poker, and has taught us various different flavors of poker over the years. And in a move that I believe stems from that same desire, she has a tradition of gifting each of us a deck of cards for one of the nights of Channukah. She also snuck decks of cards into our luggage when we moved off to college. She's convinced that if poker is god, then she is the messiah and we are the chosen people.

This year, because Channukah was later than usual, both my sister and I were home to receive our deck of cards and somehow she convinced us that this meant we needed to play poker. ("It's a life skill!" "What if all your friends are starting a poker group?") What she didn't realize was that in one of the decks she had bought the two jokers were the 12 of spades and the 16 of diamonds.

We play for a bit with a couple other decks (partially so my sister can relearn a few different types of poker), and eventually I add the third deck into the mix and volunteer to prepare it between rounds. I shuffle the deck, making sure to force the cards to be near the top of the deck (one side effect of growing up with many many decks of cards is you learn some card tricks, or at least the basics.)

My mother is the dealer that round. We're all dealt cards. Nobody flinches. My sister and I know what's happening, my parents do not. We bet. I do not have great cards. I stay in because if I pull this off I want to still be in play. Out comes the flop. The opening card is the 12 of spades. The other two cards are not face cards, so after much confusion we decide that it must be a stylistic choice. We agree to play it as a queen. We bet again. I am losing money at this point, but that's okay. I'm in it for the bit, not the money.

We turn the river. It's the queen of diamonds. My parents are baffled. No reasonable person would make a stylistic choice such that one queen is a face card and the other is a 12, right? Well, given the store we got these from (which also sells a Magic Flying Butterfly, a bowl made of guitar strings, and many other oddities) the stylistic choices are likely to be confusing.

Over the course of the rest of the game we manage to reveal all four queens. And we also have the 12 of spades. At this point the pot is ruled dead and everyone gets their money back (thank goodness, I would have lost handily), and laughs are had all around. Eventually the deck was searched through and the 16 of diamonds was discovered, to everyone's great amusement.

Moral of the story? Manipulate other people wants and needs so that you can always stay committed to the bit. Or just like have fun, I guess. Yeah maybe don't do that first thing.

[corroded-hellfire]

I just need pre-relationship AYW!Eddie all pent up and feral for Reader. I need him whimpering when he touches himself after Reader leaves for the evening. I need him trying to picture anyone else besides his kids’ babysitter but he keeps picturing Reader.

Your wish is my command! 😘

Warnings: male masturbation, smut, p in v, unprotected (wrap it up), older!eddie, babysitter!reader, the longing is real

Words: 2.4k

[As You Wish masterlist]

“Go to sleep now,” you grumble playfully, ruffling Luke’s curls as he smiles up at you from his bed.

“One more story?” Luke asks, though his voice betrays how sleepy he already is.

“Come on, buddy,” Eddie says from the doorway. “She’s been nice enough to stay for dinner and read you two bedtime stories already.”

A smile that steals Eddie’s breath grows on your lips as you turn to look at your boss.

“You make it sound like such a hardship,” you quip.

“I don’t think your union allows for overtime,” Eddie replies.

You let out a soft giggle and Eddie feels his insides begin to melt. It’s catastrophically unfair, the effect you have on him. Not in his whole life has Eddie met someone who so effortlessly turns him on and makes his heart race. As impossible as it is to ignore the feelings, Eddie tries not to linger on them for a few reasons. One, you’re a complete pipe dream. There is no way you, beautiful, intelligent, compassionate, and hilarious you would ever see a man over a decade older than you in the same light that he sees you. Two, and which he admits is arguably the bigger reason, is that he’s married. Sure, it hasn’t been a real marriage in…God knows how long. But it’s still a legally binding marriage that he hasn’t even attempted to separate from. Not for lack of want, though. It’s hard to see a point when it would cause the breakup of his boys’ family, and for what? So Eddie could be all alone in some smaller unfamiliar home that he struggles to afford on his own while caring for his sons, only getting to see them half the time he does now? No. He basically is doing it all alone right now, with the lack of input from Brittany, but at least Luke and Ryan are in the home they know and the two combined household incomes can give them a pretty good life.

Unfortunately, all the logic in the world can’t cure Eddie’s addiction to you.

“Close your eyes, sleepyhead.” You stand up from the edge of the four-year-old’s bed and lean over to press a kiss to his forehead.

The way you bend down towards the boy gives Eddie a spectacular view of your ass. He’s forced to dig his nails into the palms of his hands to suppress the groan that so desperately wants to escape. As much as he internally chides himself, Eddie can’t tear his eyes away either. He gets so few chances to just look at you, that he can’t bring himself to cut this precious time short.

“Night night,” Luke says through a yawn.

“Night, pal,” Eddie says.

You boop your index finger against the little boy’s nose before standing up straight and heading in Eddie’s direction. The two of you exit into the hallway and Eddie closes the door almost all the way–leaving it open just a crack to allow some of the hallway light in.

The two of you are silent as you walk to the living room, both silently dreading that it’s time to part for the evening. You swipe your bag up from the couch and slip it onto your shoulder.

“I guess I’ll, uh, see you tomorrow,” you say, reluctantly taking steps toward the front door.

“Thanks for staying longer than you had to,” Eddie says, walking you to the door like always. He feels like he should add the words “for the boys” to the end of his sentence, but he can’t bring himself to. As much as the boys adore you, Eddie knows he is without a doubt the happiest one that you stayed for dinner and until bedtime.

“It was fun,” you tell him. “I always have fun here.”

“Always?” Eddie teases, raising his eyebrows. “Can I remind you that you said that the next time Luke has a meltdown?”

“Sure,” you reply with a chuckle.

The electricity in the air threatens to spark at any moment as Eddie reaches around you to open the front door.

“Drive careful, sweetheart,” he says.

“No,” you tease with a playful smirk. “I’m going to drive recklessly. Run all the red lights.”

“Don’t give me reason to worry,” Eddie mumbles, knocking his shoulder against yours.

“Aww,” you coo. “You worry about me?”

Heat rises to Eddie’s cheeks and he desperately wills it to move back down his body.

“Alright, smart ass.” Eddie wrinkles his nose up and pretends to shove you out the door.

With a laugh, you playfully stumble down the walkway a few steps, acting as if his push was that strong.

“Oh, fine!” you lament over-dramatically. “I’ll be a good girl! Bye, Eddie.”

A good girl. Suddenly, Eddie wishes that heat and blood would stay in his face instead of rushing to his groin like it currently is.

“Bye, sweetheart.”

The moment you’re safely in your car and Eddie hears the engine start, he closes the front door and groans in time with the locking mechanism clicking into place.

“This just feels cruel,” he mumbles to himself as he rests his forehead against the cool wood of the door. He lets himself stand there until he hears your car rumble down the road and off into the night.

It takes a Herculean effort to push himself up and head deeper into the house. Out of habit, Eddie glances at the clock on the wall to see if Brittany will be home soon or not. It’s useless though—there’s never a set time she comes home. Who knows where she is or what she’s doing? Or who she’s doing. The pseudo-schedule the household used to follow has fallen by the wayside, so Eddie mentally tells himself to ignore it altogether. Easier said than done, of course.

When Eddie steps into the hallway it’s silent. No sounds of Luke sneaking out of bed to play with his toys or Ryan fumbling for his flashlight to read beneath his covers. Heaving a sigh, Eddie decides he might as well take care of the situation in his pants.

Despite Brittany not being home, Eddie locks the bedroom door behind him. Luke has also started the bad habit of opening any and every door without knocking first. So, better to be safe than sorry.

“Okay, think of someone else,” Eddie says to himself as he rids himself of his clothes. “Anyone else. Not her.”

It shouldn’t be hard to think of another woman to get himself off. Hell, for the entirety of Eddie’s teenage years, he could’ve jacked it to almost any woman and it would be great. Now he can’t seem to get this one specific, unattainable woman out of his mind.

He shucks the last of his clothes off and lays down on his bed, wracking his brain for someone who can get the job done. Julia Roberts? Nah. Jennifer Aniston? No. Cindy Crawford? Nope. Nicole Kidman? Maybe….no. Aunt Viv from The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air? The first, not the second one. Still no.

“Fuck,” Eddie groans, letting his eyes fall closed as he wraps his hand around his semi-hard shaft. He licks over his lips and tries to let himself relax. The only way Eddie is going to be able to take care of this problem is to think about you and he knows it. He also knows he needs to hurry up if he wants to finish before Brittany comes home.

The mere thought of the woman who sleeps next to him at night has him softening slightly in his hand. A snort of laughter comes out, Eddie finding that humorous. Objectively, Brittany is beautiful, but knowing the rot and decay that lays just beneath the surface ruins any attractiveness Eddie could ever find in her anymore. Even though he already knows what will happen, Eddie immediately switches his thoughts over to you to see the effect. It’s instant. His cock comes to life at the very thought of your name.

No shit, Eddie thinks to himself as he opens his legs a little wider. Because she’s literally a fucking goddess. God, those eyes. Eddie’s hand grips himself a little tighter and moves down towards the base.

“Say you’re a good girl again, baby,” Eddie mumbles under his breath. Fuck, he can’t believe he was lucky enough to hear those words come from your lips. Jesus, he can hardly imagine being lucky enough to come home to you at the end of the day. Walking in the door after work and seeing you is already what he looks forward to all day, he can’t fathom how he would feel if you greeted him with a kiss and stayed there with him and the boys all night. And once the boys go to bed it’s time for some fun.

“Please.”

The word tumbles from Eddie’s lips but he’s not entirely sure what he’s asking for. You to be there with him? You to be by his side always? You to be here, naked, with your hand around him instead of his own?

Okay, Eddie thinks, shifting to make himself more comfortable. There we go, think about coming home to her.

He begins to slowly stroke his cock up and down.

Eddie imagines walking through the front door and kicking his boots off. Your voice hums sweetly from the kitchen and it brings a smile to his face.

“What smells so good, huh?” he asks as he strolls into the room.

The sight he’s greeted by is almost enough to bring him to his knees. You stand at the counter, facing him, an apron on and a bowl full of cake batter held in your hands.

“Welcome home,” you say.

Dark brown eyes follow your every move as you slowly dip your forefinger into the batter and pop it into your mouth. Eddie finds himself holding his breath as you slide your finger out from between your plush pink lips at a torturous pace.

As if the first time wasn’t enough, you dip your finger back in, but instead of putting it in your mouth this time, you point your finger up and stick your tongue out to lick every speck of vanilla batter off of it.

“Oh, fuck me,” Eddie moans.

With a soft laugh, you set the bowl down and look up at Eddie through your thick eyelashes.

“Funny. I was going to say that to you.”

A rough growl reverberates from Eddie’s chest as he moves forward to grab you by the hips. It’s only once he has his hands on you that he realizes not only are you wearing the apron—you’re wearing only the apron.

“God damn, baby,” he mutters. Calloused hands slide back just slightly and come into contact with your bare ass. He drops his head forward to rest against yours with a helpless whine.

You giggle, tilting your head up to brush your nose against his.

“I like the sounds you make,” you tell him, voice thick with lust.

Before he responds, Eddie presses a few gentle kisses along your bare shoulder and up the side of your throat.

“I want to hear your noises, too.”

“Hmm,” you hum. “I don’t think that’ll be very hard to manage.” You reach up with your left hand and tug on the tied apron string resting on the nape of your neck. The front of the apron falls down, leaving your entire torso exposed to Eddie.

A guttural groan meets your ears as strong hands grab you by the waist and help you up onto the counter. Immediately, you spread your legs and Eddie stands between them, the two of you fighting with the apron to get it all the way off you.

Eddie tosses it over his shoulder as you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling the two of your bodies as close as possible.

“Eddie,” you whine, reaching up to bury your fingers in his unruly curls.

“What baby?” His breath brushes against your lips, sending a pleasant shiver down your spine.

“Need you.” Using your grip on his hair, you pull Eddie’s face down to crash against yours.

Mouths meet, lips dancing, tongues exploring, and teeth clashing. Strong yet gentle fingertips dig into your skin, yearning to hold you as tight as humanly possible. Nothing is close enough.

Eddie pulls back just enough to playfully nip at your bottom lip.

“Being such a good girl for me,” he rasps.

A smile tugs at the corners of your mouth as you run your nose along the edge of Eddie’s jawline.

“Wanna be so good for you. Wanna feel you, Eddie. Pretty please?”

A smug smirk grows on Eddie’s face as he reaches between your two bodies to unzip his navy blue coveralls. You shove the material down his hips as Eddie whips his white undershirt off over his head.

“Ready for me, princess?”

Eddie lines himself up with your entrance, glancing up at your face as he waits for your approval.

“God, yes!” You nod emphatically, wiggling your hips in an attempt to get him inside of you faster.

Eddie grins at your eagerness, putting both of you out of your misery as he pushes inside.

“Fuck,” he groans.

“Oh!” You whimper, clinging to Eddie’s shoulders.

The sweet little noises spilling from your lips only encourage Eddie. He pulls almost all the way out before thrusting back into your tight wet heat. It feels as close to euphoria as Eddie’s ever felt. He wants to spend forever between your legs, but it feels far too good to last long.

“Feels so good,” you whine.

“Yeah, baby?” Eddie asks. “Like when I…oh, fuck.”

Eddie doesn’t have time to imagine what he’d say next before hot cum starts to pour over his fist.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he mumbles as his orgasm works its way through his body. His hand keeps going, milking his cock for everything that it’s worth.

Once he’s well and truly spent, Eddie lets his boneless body sink into the mattress. His arm flings over the side of the bed and his fingertips brush against his t-shirt laying on the floor. Blindly, he picks it up and wipes his coated hand off before wiping the cum off his abdomen, legs, and anywhere else it went.

“Holy shit,” Eddie sighs. His head falls to the side and his eyes slip closed. A goofy smile comes to his face as his mind returns to you. “Fuck, I’m so gone for her.”

[enigmatist17]

I was right in the path of the snowstorm that hit us this week (and another coming this weekend yaaaay), and thought of my boys :)

This is part of the Mecha Pilot AU by @keferon :)

My other AU fics here

---

"RATTY, WHAT IS ALL THIS STUFF?"

Deadlock didn't yell, at least not that Ratchet had ever heard, and he sure as hell never sounded uncertain.

"What're you goin' on about?" The mechanic certainly didn't have some pep in his step as he hurried to his Cybertronian, a wrench gripped in one hand as he headed to the personal bay he'd set up for Deadlock. The door was open, revealing a heavy snowfall that Ratchet had forgotten about, the mech staring at the weather with a glare.

"What is it?!" His plating rattled in slight discomfort as Ratchet raised an optic ridge (no, eyebrow? Eh, he'll ask later) at him, clearly unconcerned by the strange weather. "The sky hasn't done this before."

"That would be because it hasn't gotten cold enough 'til now." The wrench in his hand gets shoved into his toolbelt, and despite the lack of his jacket, Ratchet steps out into the snow with an amused smirk. "See? Safe an' sound." True to his words, Ratchet didn't appear in any pain, aside from a shiver that wracked his frame as the white flakes started to coat him. "It's called snow."

"Why is there snow? It has been cold for days now, your bitching about it has told me that enough." Slowly, the mech reached out to Ratchet, his digit twitching when the first few flakes landed on it, but no warnings popped up in his HUD.

"We didn't have the right temperature for the water vapor in the air to condense, but we do now. I forgot we were even gettin' a storm, which means getting home is going to be a bitch and a half."

"You drive in this stuff?" The Cybertronian asked, letting the curiosity running through his processor bleed through more than he usually would have done. "Is it not dangerous?"

"Well yea, but we've adapted over the years." The human responded as he moved to come in from the snow, Deadlock using his hand as a cover. "Sit here, let me go get my jacket and other boots on."

"Alright." Deadlock watched Ratchet head back inside his shop floor before returning his optics to the snowy landscape in front of him. He had seen something resembling this snow a few times, but it had been through quick pit stops at planets to scavenge shards of energon that left him no time to actually examine the frozen precipitation. It's cold against his servo when Deadlock scoops up a generous helping of the snow, compacting into a vague ball shape when he closes his servo into a fist, remaining solid even after he grabs it with his other servo.

"We call that a snowball." Ratchet had also put on a hat and some servo coverings, crouching to scoop up his own snow. "I'd rather you not throw that one at me, but pick and target and launch."

"Is this snow a weapon?" Now that got his attention, the assassin picked out a random tree and launched the snowball as hard as he could, all of the collected snow on the branches falling off as it connected with a loud thud.

"Not as effective ones, that's for sure." Ratchet snorted, nailing a nearby parked car right in the windshield. "Nah, it's for fun usually, though you're gonna kill me with how hard you threw yours."

"I'd never hurt you Ratty." Deadlock purred, offering his servo with a grin. "I want to see more."

"C'mon, the lake might be frozen over." Ratchet hopped up onto the offered limb, bracing himself against the wind as Deadlock began to venture out into the snowy forest, pausing every so often to look at the snow-covered trees and rocks in interest. "So Cybertron doesn't have snow?"

"Not that I was ever aware of? What we consider organic on Cybertron isn't the same definition for you."

"Fair enough." Ratchet lapsed into silence as Deadlock headed to the lake he had crash-landed next to what felt like a lifetime ago, the mech clearly surprised by the sight when they reached the clearing. "Well?"

"..." Deadlock carefully set his human down before approaching the water's edge, the surface now solid to the touch. "This is...cool."

"Yes it is." Ratchet snorted as he joined the mech, testing the ice with one foot. "Hm, might be strong enough..."

"For what?" The mechanic looked up with an amused look before taking a step forward, Deadlock watching in slight awe as he began to walk on water like he was strolling on normal ground.

"You can't always do this, but sometimes we get lucky. It is pretty cool." He grinned, the alien reaching over to steady him with a digit when Ratchet wobbled slightly. "Thanks."

"As much as I kinda don't like your planet all this much, I could come to like this snow and ice." The assassin purred, using his digit to lazily pull Ratchet around on the ice in a random pattern.

"Not the biggest fan, but I do enjoy the occasional snow day myself." Ratchet shrugged as he did a poor man's version of ice skating, only upright do to his tight hold on Deadlock's digit. "Glad you're enjoying it."

"Only because I'm with you." The look on Ratchet's face made the corny line more than worth it, Deadlock chuckling as he continued pulling the human around on the ice. "How long will it be like this?"

"I don't know, probably a few days. Best enjoy it while we've got it."

"Works for me." Sure, Ratchet can't feel much of his body by the time Deadlock decides he's done enjoying the view, but it wasn't all bad when he's carefully placed inside the mech's warm interior for the trek back. They end up dozing off in Ratchet's workshop when neither of them feels like dealing with what would be a nasty drive to Ratchet's home, the falling snow filtering through the moonlight lulling them both to sleep.

[witchofhistory]

It was Titus that told them something was wrong. The two dogs had moved to a quieter room to map instead of struggling through the humans that were acting loud and obnoxious over Family Game Night, despite doing this once a month for years. It wasn’t like the scores changed much anyway. 

Tim and Jason were kickass together at Trivial Pursuit, so that was a no-go, Charades and Monopoly had been banned since before Steph came into the family, so it was almost entirely games of luck and betting games. Cass was always the dealer to keep everyone in check and Dick was her check since he was the only one to really be able to catch her in a lie. 

Not that she did, it was obvious she was having too much fun to ruin the game by cheating. 

“Get the dice! Get the dice!” Tim screamed as Steph dove for the dice that had rolled off the table, fighting off  Damian’s attempts to get to them first. The two wrestled as Steph reached out,  snatching the dice that had fallen off the table and under the couch. Tim cheered as he caught them, meaning it was his team’s turn and Damian/Bruce had lost the right to theirs. 

Damian pouted as he glared at Bruce. “You are too old to be effective.” 

Bruce rolled his eyes, having heard far worse starting when he took in Dick at only twenty two and was promptly informed he was an old man for his back cracking habit when he stood up. “Thank you for that assessment.” 

The others giggled at his face and Dick felt his chest warm at the fact that they were mostly all here. At least Bruce’s official kids were, it had to be world ending to get the extended crew here. Babs rarely left her tower at night, preferring to stay on coms with Bluebird, Batwoman, Batwing, and Gotham Girl, who were currently filling in to give the rest of them a night off. Huntress might show up at some point, if only to spread chaos since Batman wasn’t around to stop her (or give her the disappointed dad state). 

All of that was ruined by panicked barking as Tiitus skidded into the room, scratching the hardwoods with his nails as he struggled to control paws too big for his body. He yelped as he slammed into the couch, but quickly shook himself off and grabbed Bruce’s sleeve between his teeth. 

“Titus!” Damian chastised. “Let go.” 

The great dane completely ignored him and started tugging Bruce out of the room, forcing the  rest of them to follow him all the way to a sitting room where Ace was sprawled over his dog bed. Immediately it was clear there was something wrong. 

Ace always sat up when they came into a room, if only to check them over and go back to sleep afterwards, but he barely so much as twitched his ears towards them. He whined once he caught sight of them. 

Dick walked over to  him slowly while Bruce and Damian tried to calm Titus, who was still keeping Bruce’s sleeve captive. “Hi buddy, what’s going on?” He slowly reached out a hand to pet Ace’s ears, flinching back when he felt like muscle spasm under his hand. Even with all his training, it was hard to keep himself calm when that was his boy . His buddy. “Bruce? I think we need to go to the vet.” He tried to keep his voice even so the kids didn’t panic. 

It was a bit of a blur after that, stuffing all of them into the minivan while he and Jason held Ace in the trunk to keep him from getting jostled around too much. He was barely moving, and only his right side. 

There was barely any time between the house and the waiting room. All of his siblings  tried to keep a hand on Ace, petting gently and speaking soft whispers to tell him it was going to be okay. Ace, despite whatever had happened, kept trying to look at them and lean into their hands. Dick  held back a sob as he realized his boy was still trying to comfort them, to tell them it was going to  be okay as much as they were trying to comfort him. 

“Ace is going to be okay, right?” Steph asked quietly, even though they all knew he was old. Most German Shepherds usually only lived to thirteen, let alone the seventeen he was now with all of their night work. 

Damian responded before he could. “tt. Of course. He is strong.” 

Dick reached out his free hand to run a hand through Damian's hair, both to soothe his brother and to give himself something to do. “The vets are going to do everything they can to help him.” 

Bruce came back from talking to the tech at the front desk and knelt on the floor between Duke and Cass, letting them lean on him while he bent forward to press kisses between Ace’s ears. “Hey buddy, they'll see you in just a few minutes. They have to prep the room and then they're going to help you, okay?” 

Part of Dick was bitter that this was the softest he had seen Bruce in years, but he also knew it had been yeast since there were scared little kids or animals that needed comfort from him. Batman had moved away from rescuing kidnapping victims and instead focused on taking on the hard hitters, putting himself in danger before ever letting his kids take part. The rest of him was glad that if this was it, Ace at least got to see Bruce like he was when they were little one more time. 

They couldn't let everyone go in the room because there wasn't enough space for them, it would be a fire hazard. Without the ability to put all of their  focus on Ace in front of them, they all ended up pacing or playing  on their phones to distract themselves from what was happening. Dick glanced over at Tim who he was pretty sure was running a complete takeover of one of Luther’s subsidiaries on one phone and was playing Royal Match on the other. “How’s it going, Timmy?” 

“I still need to shoot all the ducks.” 

Dick raised an eyebrow at that. “And Luther?” 

“Too easy, I needed something more frustrating to focus on.” “Okay then.” Dick decided to focus on a different sibling for the time being. 

They all perked up when the Vet Tech came out, but it was obvious it wasn’t good news from the get go. They had on a similar face to the ones they themselves wore when talking to victims. They kept their body language open and relaxed, and kept their hands facing slightly sideways. They were even leaning forward slightly like they were trying to look less intimidating. “After much discussion, Mr.Wayne and the doctor have decided it’s best to put Ace to sleep.” 

Someone choked on a sob. It might have been Dick. 

“You can go in pairs to say your goodbyes.” 

Dick didn’t realize there was anything wrong with Damian until they got home. He wasn’t crying like Duke or the girls (or Dick, even if he tried to hide it), he wasn’t angry like Jason, or focused on Bruce like Tim. He didn’t expect him to be emotional in public, he tried to avoid drawing attention to himself nowadays if  he wasn’t able to put on the ‘perfect Wayne’ persona. 

And when they got inside, Bruce almost immediately got a message on his League communicator. He froze in the doorway as they put Ace’s box of ashes on the mantle, where it would stay until they could bury him properly. “Fuck.” He ran a hand through his hair, looking the most disheveled that Dick had seen  him in months. “I have to go, I am specifically requested by one of the delegations we’re trying to create a treaty with and they won’t start without me. I will try to reschedule when I get there or end it early.” 

Have to? Cass signed even as she walked over to hug him goodbye. 

“We will be fine in your absence, Father,” Damian said. He was in his favorite chair, pulling out a sketchbook from the side pocket attached to the arm. “You may go to your meeting, the others will calm down soon and your coddiling is unnecessary.” 

Bruce frowned, but another notification reminded him of how little time he had. He looked to Dick instead, like he always did, to figure out what was happening and take care of it. “I love you all.” It was stilted, but still far more than Dick expected honestly. Cass got a kiss to her forehead, Dick a pat on the shoulder, and then he was gone. 

There was silence for a few minutes as everyone settled into more comfortable positions, the girls cuddling on the couch and Tim sprawling on the floor, leaning on their legs. Duke sat in the other armchair by himself, while Jason just continued his pacing. 

Dick hoped that he would have time to talk to Damian before the fighting started, but just as he moved to pull his youngest brother away, Jason stopped. 

“I don't know why you're such an asshole, brat,” he snarled over at Damien who didn't even so much as look up at him. “Even Mr. Emotional Constipation himself is feeling sad. I thought you were all about animals.” 

“And I thought you had some decorum but clearly I was mistaken. This will pass and then we can forget all about it.” 

That got everyone’s attention as Jason reeled back like he’d been slapped. He pulled the sketchbook out of Damien's hands, and dragged the kid out of his seat. “The fuck you just say?”

Damian glared at him, trying to get his sketchbook back. “What's done is done, it's not like there is anything we can do to fix it. He's asleep.” 

Jason turned a furious shade of red, but Steph cut him off before he could blow up anymore. “What?” She narrowed her eyes at Damian like she was seeing something the rest of them weren't, showing off the detective skills she pretended she didn't have after her short stunt as Robin. “What do you mean he’s asleep?” 

“The fuck it matter?” 

“Shut up,” Dick snapped, a terrible thought worming its way into his brain. This was his Batgirl, if she thought this was something…God, he didn't want her to be right. 

Damian tensed his muscles like he wanted to shuffle, but didn’t believe it was allowed. It made something sharp appear in Dick’s side despite the swirling mix of sadness and grief, knowing that they were scaring him enough that he was trying to de-escalate. “He’s in a comatose state so he can heal. He’ll be fine once he wakes up.” 

The entire room seemed to freeze as one after another his siblings were hit by the frying pan that was that statement. 

Tim was the first to break and choked out a soft, “what?” 

“The vet said that they put him to sleep,” Damian said in that tone of voice he used when he thought they were being particularly stupid, when he was sure he was right and refused to believe anything else.  

And it hit Dick, not for the first time, that his little brother was ten. He was a child whose first language wasn’t English, who struggled with some of the idioms like any other non-native speaker, and he was ten . Even if he was the smartest ten year old that Dick had ever met, even if he was brilliant at picking up clues, he sometimes didn’t want to see what was right in front of him. Sometimes he didn’t know enough to understand. 

Steph choked on a sob that might have also been a laugh as she turned into Cass’ side and announced, “nope! I can not do this right now.” 

It really wasn’t her job anyway. Not when she refused to be adopted for reasons he was going to pretend not to know until someone told him, not when she wasn’t the oldest. Because it was his job, as the oldest, to take on their burdens. To take care of them and explain things they didn’t understand. Even when they were hard and made his throat feel like he was gargling glass. 

“I do not understand.” Damian looked at him with wide eyes, clearly trying to figure out what  he missed. “Ace might not be optimal when he awakens, but—” 

Dick dropped to his knees in front of his baby brother with the force of a prayer. “Damian, when an animal is put to sleep, it doesn’t mean that they are put in a medical coma like a human. It means that they’re…put down.” 

Damian shook his head aggressively as he shoved away the hands that Dick tried to hug him with. “That’s not true! Ace is a good dog, he did nothing wrong. He is injured! If they just help him, he will get better and he can be Bat-Hound again!” When Dick started to try saying something again, he was barreled over by Damian shoving Dick backwards and backing up. “No! He can get better! Father would not terminate one of us because of an injury, why would he terminate Ace?” 

Jason shifted uncomfortably but tried  to step forward to help, which was appreciated even if it wasn’t necessary. “Baby Bat, it’s not like that.” 

There was a moment when Dick thought maybe Damian understood, but the tears welling up in his eyes and the resignation on his face did not bode well. “They’ve already killed him, haven’t they?” He looked over at the box on the table, his mouth forming a little “o” as it finally hit him what had happened. “I understand now.” 

Dick hummed as he repositioned his knees from the sitting position he’d fixed himself into. “Do you want a hug, baby? I know it’s hard when stuff like this happens, it’s always hard to lose an animal. We love them so much and…” 

Damian shook his head again. His eyes had dried, but the expression on his face was more blank than anything else. Like all the emotion had been pulled out of him. “Ace is dead. I have to go.” 

“What do you mean?” Dick didn’t even have a chance to blink before his little brother was just gone. He swore as he tried calling for his youngest brother, but there was no response and only the eerie silence of grief hanging in the air. “We have to find him, before he hurts himself or panics or, I don’t even know!” 

Cass appeared in front of him and offered a hand that he took gratefully. Once he was standing, she started signing that she would go look in the barn. Steph followed after her, which was probably a good idea. Safety in numbers. Duke and Jason offered to look in the library, while Tim said he would find Alfred and check with him to see if Damian had gone to the kitchen to hide. 

Which left Dick. Honestly, it was probably better that he wasn’t with one of his siblings for the first time since the Vet had told them there was nothing they could do. It  made it easier to take his grief over Ace, over lost nights cuddling in a bed that still felt too big for a kid who used to share with his parents and then more often than not found a friend’s bed to slip into when he could. Over training together and learning together and giving each other looks when Bruce was being stupid again . Ace was his first brother, even if he felt a little silly saying that about a dog. 

But his grief wasn’t  important, not in the face of keeping his siblings together enough that they could heal. Not in the face of Damian potentially running. With the others running around, Damian would either stay in his room or head down to the cave to become Robin and take his anger out on the criminals of Gotham. Like father, like son. 

What he wasn’t prepared for was Damian to completely ignore the locker rooms he was guarding and to head straight for the Zeta in full gear, with the Watchtower codes. He quickly texted the Sibling Chat what happened as he threw on a domino, not bothering to put on his uniform despite knowing he’d wished he had later, and chased after the baby of the family. 

Would he yell at Bruce for leaving them alone? 

Would Damian try to convince Bruce to use the Pits and bring Ace back? Did the Pits even work on ashes? 

Dick skidded to a stop in front of the meeting room and froze in the open doorway as he heard his littlest brother, his littlest sibling , say the most heartbreaking thing he had ever heard. 

“You believe you have disappointed me.” Bruce looked confused, like he was trying to think through a fog. Ace was affecting him enough that his Batman persona was slipping away, leaving only their dad behind. 

“Yes.” 

“Why?” 

Damian’s voice cracked as he carefully said, “I have been informed that Ace was terminated as a punishment for my behavior.”

Before Dick could even move, Bruce was removing the cowl and whatever remained of Batman to pull Damian closer in a loose hug. “Oh, no, sweetheart, that’s not true. What makes you think that? It’s not your fault.” 

It was telling that even as Damian started to tremble, he let Bruce hold him. “Ahki said you did not terminate him because of something Ace did, which means it must have been something I have done. There was no other reason for you to deny him treatment for his injuries!” 

Oh, Jay is going to be so smug Damian called him Ahki when he hears about this . It wasn;t really an appropriate thought, but it was the only one that came to mind in the face of Damian believing they blamed him for Ace. 

Bruce brushed the hood away from Damian’s face and cupped his cheek gently, holding the little boy like he was the most precious thing in the world. Dick remembered what it felt  like to be held like that, to be small enough that Bruce wanted to protect you from the world. “Ace was seventeen. Dogs of  his size usually only live to about thirteen or fourteen years of age, and yet he stayed with us long enough to meet you. I am very grateful he did.” He took a deep breath and held it, then sighed. “Ace was not terminated. He was put down after his seizure caused his left side to be completely paralyzed. He was in pain and there was nothing they could do to help him. If they had tried, he would have died on the table instead of with me holding him.”  

“You are not angry with me. It was not my error that led to this?” Damian’s voice cracked sharply as he pressed his lips together to try and keep control of himself. “Ba--  Baba? You will not have Titus killed?”

Dick couldn’t take it anymore. Hearing Damian call Bruce something other than Father, let alone something as childish as Baba, for the first time broke whatever restraints kept him rooted to the spot. He ran over to his brother and dad, crouching next to Damian and leaning on Bruce’s chair despite how it dug into his side.

Bruce didn’t take his eyes off of Damian, but he did move a hand to rest on Dick’s shoulder. “No, Robin. It was just old age; Ace isn't suffering and I would never hurt or kill one of your treasured friends. Even to make a point. Batman doesn’t kill and Bruce Wayne doesn't either.” 

The dam broke as Damian hiccuped out a sob, burying himself in Bruce’s arms as he apologized for his weakness, “I’m sorry Baba,” and choked on anything else. 

Dick moved to pull Damian away, an offer to bring him back home on the tip of his tongue before Bruce could push either of them away, but instead he was pulled up into one of his dad’s all encompassing hugs. His dad had arms that were big enough to wrap around them both, and the cape shielded them from view as it created a cocoon of safety that Dick just couldn’t stop himself from burrowing into. He curled a hand through Damian’s hair protectively and for the first time all day, let himself cry. The tears pooled in his mask and the snot made his nose hurt, but that was a problem for Other Dick. The Dick that had to be strong. 

And right now? That guy was the least of Dick’s worries. 

Without even moving to let them go, Bruce swept up Damian  to sit on his hip as he stood and pulled Dick more firmly under arm to hide in his side. “I will be returning home. Do not call me until I reach out.” 

It might have been Batman who entered the Watchtower, but it was Bruce who left. Who kept a hand on the back of Dick’s head like he used to when Dick was too short for Bruce to comfortably put a hand on his shoulder. 

Damien not knowing that dogs only live 10-16 years

A family pet passed away recently so I decided to funnel my sadness into Damien.

Give me a Damien who had never been allowed animals in the League and if they were discovered, Ra's forced him to kill them or give them away depending on what kind of animal it was.

Give me a Damien who in the back of his head knows animals don't live forever but doesn't understand how old Ace is when he gets there.

And this boy gets so attached to animals.

Give me a Damien who doesn't understand what happened when Titus brings him to Ace, who passed away in his sleep. Who believes someone killed one of their dogs.

And he's angry first, because that's safer, and he's freaking out and trying to figure out who did it and why when Dick finds him. And they bring Ace to the vet and the Vet says he was just old. Dick tries so hard to be comforting and is doing his best but that's his childhood dog right there.

Give me a Damien who suits up and interrupts a Watchtower Meeting to demand Batman get the JLD to bring Ace back. And he's trying so hard to be angry.

But this boy is 10.

And when Bruce, not Batman, offers him a hug, he breaks down right then and there and starts sobbing and asking why Ace had to die. Wasn't he good? He was trying so hard, he thought he was doing better.

And Bruce is wiping at his tears and telling him he was good, it wasn't his fault. Ace was old, very old for a big dog. He was almost 17.

Give me a Bruce who excuses himself from the meeting and picks Damien up to bring him home, to cuddle his kids and to cry in peace.

[dumbbitchenergy17]

Accident on Set

Plot: During a Buzzfeed interview stories of accidents on set happen to come up.

Word Count: 1.7K

Pairing: Paul Mescal x Reader, Pedro Pascal x Platonic!Reader

Warnings: blood/injury, sweet "father-daughter" moments, laughter giggles, just general fluff

—————

Doing a cute little BuzzFeed interview with Paul and some puppies was fun. The baby pitbulls play around between you, a gray one rests on your lap as you scratch its head, Paul using toys to keep their attention focused.

“Have you ever gotten an injury on set?” the interviewer asks, and Paul hums, letting one of the puppies gnaw at his hand as he plays with it.

“On Gladiator 2 during one of the fight sequences I pulled a muscle in my leg badly and was constantly on icy hots for a week straight, I strained something but it was not fun,” he says rubbing his muscle over his pantleg, “They had to work around shooting other scenes earlier while I was put on bed rest. I felt so bad.”

“I remember that call,” You pull another puppy onto your lap and it joins the sleeping one, “Luckily you had nurse Pedro to help with the healing process.”

Paul laughs, “He was just as banged up with his arm. What do they say misery loves company. And you?”

You give a sheepish look stroking the puppies’ fur, “I got my shit rocked by Giancarlo Esposito.”

The people behind the camera react with gasps and laugh at the normalcy of your words, while Paul looks shocked. “I don’t think I ever told you this, " you say honestly to him.

“I feel like I wouldn’t know if my girlfriend told me about getting assaulted,” he says.

“I wasn’t assaulted it was a complete accident,” you defend yourself and Giancarlo, “So it was during Season Three of Mandalorian in the finale there’s a portion where I’m taunting Moff Gideon and he punches me to shut me up.” you grimace already seeing the gears turn in Paul’s head.

You hear the doors open behind you as Gideon stands before a large hologram map, “Sir, the fighters and bombers have launched,” A commando says, “Their capital ship will soon be destroyed.”

Gideon is silent before speaking up, “But the Mandalorian has escaped.” Your heavy head perks up slightly upon hearing the news. Din had escaped. He was moving through this base. The whirring of Gideon’s armor as the Commando looks at him waiting for orders,

“Shall we engage?” The helmet is put on Gideon and you hear his modulated “No, I'll take care of him myself.” A hoarse chuckle comes fills the room and the commando stiffens Gideon is silent as it starts soft until it’s the only thing he can hear seeing your head shake. You look up at him the blood mouth and chin dried the hollow look in your eyes having a spark of malice.

“You’re dead…he’s gonna kill you.” You rasp a huff of laughter in your tone and you hear the whirring of his armor as it curls into a fist, “You won’t even last a minut-”

What was meant to be a faux punch you hadn’t realized you were too leaned forward until his fist, which was dressed in a decently heavy material that created the ‘beskar’ armor collides against your temple. If the scene was done correctly you would’ve ‘hit’ the ground before they paused to add the effect of a split eyebrow and a quickly growing bruise. What the crew hadn’t expected was the loud cry to come for you and with Tiya chained with her arms behind her back you hit the ground hard.

“Holy Shit!” Giancarlo shouts and it’s utter chaos. You can say you blacked out for just a second when he hit you, immediately feeling the pounding headache. You heard someone shout for a medic someone on the crew undoing the restraints so you could properly lay on your back.

“You’re alright Y/n,” Rick, your director calls out from beside you blinking back tears and seeing this crowd around you, Jon Favreau, Dave Filoni, and Giancarlo who has his helmet off a shellshock look on his face.

“Y/n I’m so sorry.” he pleads and you wave him off.

“It’s fine.” You reassure him though wince as your headache grows worse. The medic finally pulls up and the crew makes space for them to work. It didn’t help that you were already covered in fake blood.

“Y/n I need you to focus and follow this light,” one of them says before a tiny flashlight is shined and you follow his directions as he moves it from side to side.

“Pupil reaction looks good,” he says and you hiss as something is pressed against your brow, “You have a laceration across your brow we’re gonna get you to the hospital.”

It seemed almost unreal hearing laceration and hospital in the same sentence directed at you. It was hard to stop the waterworks, you’ve never been to the hospital before. You were going to be in one all by yourself, your family was across the fucking country and here you were crying getting put on a stretcher. Your assistant has to practically talk you down a panic attack during the ambulance ride to the hospital.

“I think I felt worse ‘cause I forgot I still had Pedro as my emergency contact for when he was on set for filming,” you pick at a hangnail, “I probably gave him a heart attack when he got that phone call.”

And a heart attack you gave him. Your assistant was on the phone with your parents informing them of your injury. Give them constant updates of being admitted, the concussion tests issued, and needing stitches. Then having to speak with your team while getting stitches put in to assure them, no you didn’t want to sue or press charges.

“Like I said for the fifth time Jeanine I don’t want to do anything. It was an accident. I just want to get back to set and finish today,” you say holding your phone on speaker.

“Are you sure you’re alright returning to set?” you hear her ask a bit frustrated but mainly concerned. No manager wants to receive a call that their client had an accident at work and was in the hospital.

“I passed all their tests and they are stitching me up as we speak. I just need to take antibiotics and I’ll be good. I wouldn’t be adamant if I didn’t believe I was truly alright.” you hear her sigh on the other end.

“Alright, I’ll have Cathy come to check on you after you finish filming today,” Jeanine says, “I hope you feel better.” The phone call ends as the doctor finishes with the last stitches. You were grateful for all the work they did, but you felt bad when they quickly rushed you seeing you covered in fake blood believing it was real.

Signing and giving any information needed to the hospital you had your team call head to the set that you would be returning to finish filming the sequence. Giancarlo gave you the biggest hug and apology on the planet with you constantly reassuring him it was an accident.

“If it makes you feel better we don’t need your coverage for that shot,” Rick says, “It’s a good take.” That makes you laugh loudly begging to watch playback to the crew’s horror to watch your accident. The scene was pretty sick and you took that punch like a champ. You all kept up with the rest of the filming schedule with a few scenes needing to get pushed to the next day given your hospital visit. Cleaned up and pampered by the makeup team when cleaning you up being extra wary of the stitches across your browbone. Like your manager said your agent Cathy arrived with a shocking guest.

“Pedro, what the fuck are you doing here?” your question is muffled in his chest as he draws you into a fierce hug before he pulls back. You can see the immediate concern on his face grimacing at the stitches.

“I got a call from a hospital saying you got hurt as your emergency contact, christ kid are you trying to kill me.” he pulls you back into another hug.

“Fuck I’m so sorry I completely forgot to remove you when you left,” you say before immediately pulling back it looked like he threw on the first thing and rushed here, “Did you fly from Calgary!” The wave of guilt crashes over you and he soothes you.

“Kid I’d drop anything to make sure you’re alright. I checked in with your parents before I boarded to tell them I’d make sure you’re alright,” he says resting his hands on your shoulders and rubbing circles to calm you. Your assistant never mentioned Pedro coming over but you were on such an adrenaline high and crash that the hospital seemed like such a blur.

“Now let’s get you home and get you all cozy,” he wraps an arm around your shoulder guiding you to your car, “I’m pulling out all the stops, Tex-Mex, true crime documentaries, and wine.” You and Cathy give him a look at suggesting you drink following your injury.

“The wine’s for me since you’re stressing me the hell out.” he says and you give a slight ‘oh’ as he keeps guiding you.

“Maybe it’s a sign for us to work on this project,” you say out of the blue as you climb into the passenger seat and he starts up the car, “I mean we both have given a blood sacrifice to Star Wars now.”

Pedro lets out a loud laugh at the realization you both have. Yours was a more serious scenario regarding getting injured while back in Season one broke his nose when he walked into a piece of plywood not paying attention.

“So this little scar I got,” you point right above your left browbone and Paul leans in close and hidden beneath the makeup you wear now he can see the shift in slightly raised skin from the scar. “Pedro and I are forever bonded to this show. Funny enough if you watch the finale they ended up using that take.” This makes the crew laugh at the comment. You see Paul’s slightly pouty face poking him until he scrunches it pulling away from your attack.

“I’m fine Paul. I handled it like a champ,” you say brushing fake dirt off your shoulder and he smirks.

“Didn’t you just say you cried the entire way to the hospital?” That only makes the crew laugh louder and you smack his shoulder drawing a chuckle from him.

“Shut up!” The laughter only gets louder before dying down allowing the interview to continue.

[dawnthefluffyduck]

It's cooling down now, happy fall :3

Next on the bucket list; planning for borders before the final stage of the drawing haha. I might do more to this later w/ the background but I think it's done for now

[2econd-of-1sts]

yo this one is so cool thanks for the tag!

Actually, no, I wouldn’t want to go back in time. My experiences shaped who I am today, and this is the version of me that I’m trying to work on and help grow.

Skydiving, actually. Basic ass answer though 😅😂 I’ve been zip lining several times, and it seems…fun. I’d just never do it unfortunately.

I’d want to be…idk. Some kind of bird, probably. Flying would be cool.

Hm… Idk, actually. I don’t watch a whole lot of movies that are…pleasant to imagine living in.

Well…none, really. I always thought I had to know the source material before I could join the fandom space.

I wish I could colour things digitally, that’s all 😭

Valeria Garza

God my mum would kill me if I got merch whilst still living under her roof. One, she doesn’t know I’m in fandoms/on tumblr. Two, I don’t have my own money to spend on merch. Three. She’s kill me for even knowing what cod is. I’d want a shit ton of posters, though

Hm. Well, I’ve always said that I’d wanna be friends with Roach.

All food is bad for you if you have crohn’s, my friend 🥲👍

NOW, my questions for whomever picks this up next:

If you could change the way one word is pronounced in the English dictionary, what would it be?

What is one article of clothing you wish you could have two of readily available at any time?

Whats something you wanted as a kid that still holds relevance today?

If the effects of gravity did not apply to you, what’s the first thing you’d do once you started floating around aimlessly?

If you had the ability to pick a fight with one letter, which one would it be?

What’s an animal (other than the basic family of pets—cat, dog, bird, etc.) that you’d realistically find lounging by your front door based on where you live?

If you and a friend were stuck wearing only one colour for a week, but you each had to pick for the other, what colour would you pick for your friend?

What is one book that you’d like to firmly argue not to judge by its cover or reputation?

If you had the complete ability to raise one specific kind of plant in your house/yard, what plant would it be?

What is one fantasy animal/creature you’d love to be able to pet/ride?

open tags from here, my friends 👍

Ten questions to ask a mutual

Instructions: prev asks ten questions and you answer them, then ask ten new ones and tag ten people to keep the chain going! I’ll go first

What is the weirdest thing you’ve eaten? (For me it’s the time I accidentally drank ants)

do you like purple or green more? (For me it’s a 50/50 I love them both)

what is your favorite two color color combo? (For me it’s purple and gold)

are you a cat or dog person? (Dogs 100%)

what is your favorite painting (Miranda by John William Waterhouse)

Mountains or beaches? (Mountains)

what’s your favorite dessert? (Lemon bars)

are you right or left handed? (Right but I used to be left handed)

salty or sweet? (Sweet)

summer or winter? (Winter)

I’m tagging 11 people but it’s whatever

@wra1th-k1ng

@bladevoyager

@tragedyanddust

@kindred-spirit-93

@urfavgreekmythnerd

@sickneurotic

@ry-diggity

@we-are-but-dead-stars

@thestarryfalls

@tamaruaart

@hermesmoly

[dizzybevvie]

You're the sunflower/I think your love would be too much

[raiiny-bay]

alien emoji

[yo-yo-yoshiko]

If you're still accepting doodle twists I would love emu and/or hiiro ex aid

Be nice to your intern Hiiro... he's my son...

[eliashawthorne]

“huh.” elias thoughtfully replied, intrigued. “you know, i supposed that isn’t too far fetched.” it was nice to think that the a good deed could be the reason millions of lives were saved, without the consequences of something else drastically happening. he tried not to think about if one of the lives saved could be the reason something does happen, perhaps their evil outweighs what we are prepared to handle as a society, instead he focused on the positive outcome of it all. now he knew that with all this time travel talk, he was going to go down a rabbit hole the moment he got home later. he was determined to gather all the theories he could for their next encounter because now he wanted to ramble on about space and time travel with zarah. he nods at her question, “yes, that’s true.” he pauses, then smiles, “well, all in all, at the end of the day, i think the choice we make would be the best one. i don’t know about you, but i think we make a killer duo.”

much like zarah, elias could easily adapt to various topic changes in conversations. actually it was quite fun to him to have different conversations going on in the same one, as long as it wasn’t too confusing. this was not confusing, it was fun. the idea of someone actually patrolling the worlds largest rubber band ball was amusing, unlikely, but he could see how even that might need protecting. “if you’re stealing the worlds largest rubber band ball and you manage to get away with that…i am both impressed and curious as to what the intentions are with said rubber band ball. maybe they would want to roll it off the grand canyon and see if it bounces up and how high it would bounce.” now he was just being a bit silly, but it was ideas like that that called for protection at even the most isolated of place like road side attractions. it was a shame, really. “i never really understood that, not being able to leave well enough alone. isn’t it enough to know you were there and simply take in the beauty?” as they continued on with their conversation and it turned to their road trip he got more excited at the idea. he smiles when zarah encourages his book savings idea, but nods at the auto draft option. “i will do both. get the book and begin auto drafting. that way if one fails, at least the other is in full effect.” though he wasn’t sure how auto drafting would fail, but he guesses there is a first time for everything and that would be no exception. “you know what? i’m going to invest in an adventure scrap book for our journey too.”

you were basically a parent, when owning a pet. luckily the only schedule that mochi was on was feeding times. he chose cat over a dog at the moment because he liked how independent they could be, and he did not have the time to properly give a pup. he understood that she couldn’t just get up and leave (as much fun as it sounded like) because he was in a similar boat. but there were times, like tonight, in which he simply had to trust mochi was going to be okay without him. he felt like the cat had already known something was on the horizon anyway, as he was also a firm believer that animals had a strong sixth sense. “i would be surprised if he wasn’t being a loaf on my bed or burrowed under blankets. but yes, once I get back home, i will be giving mochi extra love and affection to make up for my absence during the fireworks show.” when he hears her answer to his question it pulls a lighthearted chuckle from his lips, shaking his head before replying, “not even a little bit. i was just wondering if you wanted to watch them together.” then he thinks of something, not wanting her to feel like he has alternative motives, he ends up also adding, “we don’t have to kiss at the count down, just to throw that out there.”

“I feel like most modern science fiction and theory leans heavily into the whole altering one event altering all of history but there are some where that isn’t the case,” she could admit. She’d read a book series once that had time traveling didn’t ultimately change anything even though the protagonist had definitely taken some liberties by bringing modern medicine and technology. Ultimately, time travel went both ways and everything sort of ended up happening the way it had in history. “Every action has a reaction and at the end of the day I think everyone had to decide if the consequence is worth whatever it is they do whether that be in the day to day or in their hypothetical time travel experience. I think the potential of saving millions of lives would have to be deemed worth consideration.” Though at the end of the day, she didn’t suppose anyone could predict whether the lives saved would lean toward doing good in the world or bring additional chaos that they couldn’t have begun to prepare for. “At the end of the day, it’s a choice. Isn’t everything in the world a choice though?”

Zarah could easily go from talking about one thing to another. Truth be told, given the opportunity she could probably talk to a leaf about a tree for hours on end. If there was someone willing to talk, she was willing to listen and join in on the conversation. It was definitely enough to keep her mind stimulated. “Security seems like such overkill,” she wanted to say though she knew that the world they lived in merited it. Just because most people who might want to take a stop and look at one thing or another on the side of the road were probably harmless, there were always people out there that lacked the ability to keep it together. Maybe they weren’t going out there and actively looking to put anyone else in danger but there were definitely people whose idea of a good time were stealing from National Parks and making their own mark at places they had no business touching. “It’s so easy to just visit a place, appreciate it and live it as it was but I completely understand that not everyone has that perspective,” she could admit. Zarah nodded, knowing full well that whatever his attributes or the employee circumstances they were going to be just fine. Saving money was the primary concern. It wouldn’t be too hard to do if they had months to get their ducks in a row for it though. “A book could be a good start for you,” she was willing to concede. “Only way to know what you can is to try and it and if you realize it’s not working you’ll still have time to change it up. Auto draft is a savior though.”

Pet ownership did come with responsibilities. It wasn’t always easy especially when there were things that could scare them or it impacted scheduling. She definitely couldn’t just pick up and disappear for days on end without putting in some thought into who was going to care for her pet. She knew that he got it. “I’m sure Mochi will be fine,” she reassured. “Plus when you get home, he’ll feel safe again. Hopefully, he’s asleep somewhere and doesn’t even know what is about to go down.” Then again, maybe he did. She felt like animals in general had a pretty strong sixth sense when things were about to happen – storms or fireworks. She her gaze move up to his with his question, laughing. “I didn’t really have any plans. Just you know, enjoying the crowd. Being where I end up, you know. Am I keeping you from someone?”

[mizs-fandom-lair]

I've never watched Ranma 1/2 before and I stumbled upon the netflix remake

HELLO???? This anime is so fun! it had me giggling irl SO MANY TIMES and it's been only two episodes????????????

[thrucrax]

the veilguard curse.....i just want to play older bioware games; ALSO small rant where i really started losing hope in the story

I HATE GAMES....that make you go through a dialogue tree only to leave you with only ONE option to choose. i am thinking of one conversation with solas where rook's final and only option of dialogue is "I will do whatever it takes" or whatever and UGHHHH

I HATE THAT especially when i'm trying to run a character that would NEVER say that???

ugh i love roleplay games that make you play a character you didn't at all make /sarcasm

this is just an excuse to make a post about how rambert would never "do whatever it takes", he won't lie even to save face or earn trust.

[pallases]

IM FREEEEEE

[fuckzachariah]

It had been a long, long time since Zach had felt like this. Like there was a reason for him to go from one room to the next. In fact, perhaps he’d never. Not clear-headed, not like he was now. Excitement, anticipation, real, true fucking adrenaline. He had been forced to reassess his relationship to bad behavior over the years. Where it had once been his lifeline, now it was only a rare indulgence. The feeling of leaning into mischief watered the dry bed behind his ribs. He hadn’t realized exactly how parched he’d been. How desperate. Once, he would’ve made Luke suffer for showing his face in an obvious, bloody way. Now, he’d do it slowly. He’d make it subtle. Fun. As the crowd began to filter into the dim, throbbing lounge area, Zach followed, one step behind Kylie, the environment unfurling him like a flower in bloom. His chest inflated. He belonged here. Something felt like it was beginning.

The flow of people came between him and Alex; as she ebbed one way, he ebbed another. Though he felt compelled to be close to her, to scratch at her surface until something gave, he suspected she may not be feeling the same. He wasn’t dissuaded, however. Only exercising patience. Whatever she felt tangled up over, he could untangle, with one easy pull. Because he hadn’t addressed this pre-existing qualm in a long time — the fact of she and Luke, together. But now he stared it in the face, it didn’t bother him. The fact of it was this: Zach was sure he could, and determined to, splinter Alex’s engagement down the middle. Luke could not. Luke was but a flint flying off he and Alex’s wildfire. He felt that niggle between them, years later; their insatiability. Knowing she had had Luke only made him more certain of his crowning in her life. Nobody could touch him. Nobody could even come close.

He had let go of a lot of things. But how could he be Zach Winthrop without a little arrogance? It both incensed and attracted her, he knew this. He would wear his jilted crown with pride. But she needed time to cool off, and they needed to not be seen to be attached at the hip so as to avoid raised eyebrows. So he didn’t look for her, not right away. He followed Kylie’s heavy heels into a plush booth, not unlike the thousands he’d decorated in a past life, but this crowd was different. Her crowd were frothy, excitable. Over-indulgent in their alcohol to a virginal effect. The champagne bubbles made them giggle and a sideward glance from him made them blush, hide behind their hands. It was nothing like the throng of debauched prodigals he used to be surrounded with. He let them fawn over him, and so did Kylie. He suspected she rather liked it, even. While her head was turned, one of her friends handed him a drink, which he took without particularly reasoning it through.

He blinked at it. It would be his second of the night, but enough time had passed that he already felt sober from the first. His lip quirked. “Thank you,” he eased, and she shrank away like a violet. It was acidic on his tongue, burning on the way down. He made a noise like a release, shuddering with pleasure, then eyed the umbrella cocktail glass. Vodka martini, dirty as hell. Perhaps it was only a placebo effect, but it went to his head immediately. His neck craned from his lazy gait upon the sofa, finally scouting out the familiar, devastating brunette and her rosebud mouth. Then he realized that she, flanked by several bird-boned women at the bar, was notably fiancéless.

Zach excused himself, stalking across the room and avoiding the vying eyes, the wanting outstretched hands, until a thump on his shoulder demanded to be seen to. But, somewhere in his riddled mind, he must have been anticipating the interruption, as he didn’t flinch. Without breaking stride, Luke fell into step with him; these two megalomaniacal giants, simply playing house. “Thought you might’ve leaned across that table to carve a chunk out of me, man. But we must be good. Right?” It was delivered unpleasantly. It was not a peace offering, it was low-hanging fruit. Luke laughed, sarcastic and dry. “We’re good?” Zach’s lip curled, vaguely amused by it all, gaze seeking out Alex distractedly. He watched her, fixed with the hook of her shoulder, throat. Her jaw, her smile. For a moment, he forgot to answer.

“Zach,” Luke demanded his attention. Zach stopped dead, rounding on him, an untrustworthy smile stretching out his healthy face. In Zach’s mind, Luke’s intentions were clear and decipherable; use the leverage he had to throw Zach off-kilter, blackmail him into working together again, Luke climbs up the ladder Zach falls off. Well, no. Absolutely not. Zach’s hands smacked either of Luke’s shoulders as though pushing on an accordion to make it screech. They regarded each other squarely. To his credit, Luke didn’t falter. “We’re good, Luke,” Zach lied easily. His right hand came away, only to come back down a little harder than totally friendly. “We’re fucking fantastic.” Luke’s eye twitched. A memory flickered in the back of Zach’s mind – Sarah. If nothing else mattered, to Luke, she did. And Zach had taken her away. Perhaps all of this was really just a revenge plot. How far away she seemed now, and how huge of a mistake it had been to destroy one of the last real friendships he’d had. But he had no room for regret. He only had space in his brain for one thing — or rather, one woman.

“Enjoy the party,” Zach encouraged dismissively, twisting away. He was unaware how closely Luke trailed behind him as he approached Alex at the bar. So as not to rouse suspicion, he disguised his intent by leaning upon the bartop as though summoning a bartender. His eyes, cut with devilry, found hers. Under the light, he was perfect. An unimpeachable diamond. The corner of his mouth upturned. “So,” he muttered privately, allowing the now-flustered group around her to go on their faux-prattling, as though his presence wasn’t very reason to stop everything dead. Their carrying-on fizzed overtop his voice, their insistence his being around them was normal to appear cool overriding their need to fuss him. “You wanna talk about how nervous you just got back at the dinner table?” he taunted in a low voice, eyes on the approaching bartender, as though nothing were amiss in the whole world.

If there was one thing Zach had never been discomfited doing, it was making others uncomfortable. He sat assuredly in his roiling silence, the tingeing cheeks and squirming bodies of those around him waiting impatiently for his response ineffective in swaying his strange composure. He and Luke locked eyes for more than a few bloated, lumbering moments of wordlessness. What is it he wanted? Likely what he’d always wanted; a shot at being even half of Zach. And leeching from Zach was the only way he’d ever tasted an ounce of that success. Zach’s jaw feathered; a lifetime’s worth of history curled from the disturbed seabed of the muddy water between them. Last they had seen one another, it had been brutal; perhaps the most visceral display of Zach’s own torment he’d ever elicited unto himself. Because that’s what it had been – they’d both known it. It could have been about Alex, his guilt, (and a lot of it was), or it could have been about Sarah. It could have been about their near decade-long toxicity, their constant competition, their hatred for themselves projected onto one another. Their mirror-image, their dichotomy. How it had all eventually imploded exactly as prophecy would have it written. 

But Zach had changed a lot since then. Violence no longer twitched urgently at his fingertips, ever-present and awaiting trigger. His anger had not lessened in weight but had grown patient and cool, buried under a layer of apathy. Something wriggled beneath it all, seeing Luke again. Seeing him only a body away from Alex, who he yearned for so pathetically. Zach wasn’t sure what it was. Yet. Luke endeavoured to break the silence, his facade brilliant. Charming, even. But as he spoke, his painted fingertips ran slowly, intentionally, along his mangled knuckles. It was fucking bold, Zach would give him that. Unfamiliar ink curdled above the scarring, giving his fingers the eerie look of a rotten tree. Unwittingly, Zach’s tongue snaked out, nudging carefully at the scar on his top lip. A perfect ghost of flesh split open between fist and tooth. Then he smiled; broad, brilliant, a superstar. He could almost feel the terse nature of their onlookers unravelling. “You too, man,” he greeted easily, getting to his feet with his hands upon the tablecloth. He leaned slightly, extending his hand. Luke eyed it, likely having anticipated a response worthy of the old Zach, but the hesitation was only brief enough for those in the know to clock it; they shook, firmly.

Up close, the damage was crystal clear; his nose now displayed a sharp crook, and a thick, tangled rope of a scar drove right down from his forehead through his eyebrow. Blonde, gelled hair hung around them like a show curtain. Zach’s eyes sparkled, a foreign, forgotten feeling soaring through him of gross pride. He used his free hand to thump Luke jovially on the shoulder and watched as his body ricocheted with the movement. “Third time’s the charm,” he muttered happily, referring to Luke’s repeated attempts at sky-rocketing his career. Luke grunted, his smile waning as they dropped one another’s hands. “Hi,” Kylie chirped from her seat. Zach almost laughed. How little she knew of his life, really. She'd never asked who delivered the assault unto Zach that day – had never possessed the gall, couldn't face the inevitable rejection. Luke’s eyes slid beyond Zach to the bubbling froth of a pop star. His eyebrows raised. Zach showed no sign of rising to it. Instead, he took the opportunity to gaze down at Alex, her rigid spine and lithe fingers white-knuckling into a small fist. She was beautiful, in her silent, almost invisible mess. He felt electric-charged, a little crazy, recognizing the signs of anxiety. Of fear. For some reason, it all only made him want her more. His lip twitched in a tiny, frenzied smile, just for her. “Right, then,” Andrew interrupted, capturing the attention of the room at large. His wide palm gestured to the adjoining room; lights danced from the corridor, music thudding. “Shall we move onto the fun part of the evening?”

[deus-ex-mona]

i miss her…