#i wrote this all from my phone!

[aurorangen]

I need to tell them. Those were the words occupying Robbie's mind throughout the afternoon with his parents. But why ruin a good day? Any parent would react badly hearing the news of their son quitting his career at a highly respected company. Robbie knew Leilani would react less severely, given her positive outlook on all situations, so when Bryce went to buy some food, he took the opportunity.

Having finally discussed the matter, Robbie felt an immediate sense of relief. "Oh come here, darling, you did the right thing quitting." It pained Leilani to hear her son struggling and concealing this information from her, "You must always prioritise yourself and that job wasn't doing you any good...I just want you to be happy and healthy Robbie." When Bryce returned, Robbie took a deep breath and said, "Dad, there's something you should know."

Bryce pressured Robbie to be successful without fully realising it. These were things such as comparing him to Renee, always asking about work research and setting high expectations given their shared love for biology and science. When Renee and Robbie secured good jobs, he boasted about them to friends and family, which undoubtedly unnerved Robbie anytime reality didn't meet expectations. Now that he quit his job, it was that fear of disappointment.

Faced with his dad, Robbie felt like he impulsively threw away his ambition, when he could've resolved the issues by dismissing them until things went away. Anger welled up in Bryce's eyes after the conversation and Robbie braced himself for the sighs and disapproval.

"Who are those co-workers Robbie??? I'm gonna teach those jerks a lesson cos no one messes with my son!" Bryce responded with an assertiveness in his voice, hinting he'd do anything to defend his family. As much as Robbie would've liked to see that, it wasn't the most sensible action. "T-Thanks Dad, but I've moved on from those events," Robbie admitted, still taken aback by his reaction. "I'm sorry I couldn't give you a better upbringing, I-I never meant to put that much pressure," Bryce explained after calming down, "I just want the best for you."

"Look, I'm proud of you. You don't have to reach the top of your career or earn the big wages-…hell you don't even have to prove anything to show me that. I'm already so proud of you every minute and every day, because you are my son."

[rinneverse]

cw a little suggestive towards the end, mdni please and ty :)

alhaitham is the type to seethe quietly in his jealousy.

he’s not outwardly possessive—no, because he lets the stranger talk to you—his pretty girlfriend—about his thesis plans, about his academic feats, and you sit there with a smile plastered on your face, nodding your head as you listen to him prattle on and on and on.

alhaitham nearly bends the book in his hand into pieces with what he claims is annoyance. not possessiveness, no, that was out of character. he was just… annoyed, that this random man had the gall to interrupt his reading session with you.

that’s what he tells himself, at least.

of course, how was he supposed to know you were dating the akademiya scribe, when alhaitham was possibly the most low-key person ever? the two of you were quiet about your relationship, content to share it between yourselves. only your close friends really knew the extent of how deep your “friendship” with the scribe went.

as soon as the man leaves (not without leaving his number for you, of course), and the two of you are blanketed in the quiet murmurs of the akademiya library, alhaitham sets his book down. he turns to you.

he finds you staring at him, amusement flickering in your eyes. alhaitham tilts his head, all feline grace, his eyes narrowing into slits as he asks, “what?”

you shake your head mirthfully, crumpling up the slip of paper in your hand and tossing it into the nearest bin. alhaitham feels his shoulders un-tense just a fraction at the sight.

“nothing,” you say, but alhaitham knows you’re lying.

so he leans closer to you, grasping your chin in his hand as he tilts your head back and forces your gaze to meet his.

“liar. what is it?”

you smile. wide and wider it grows, and you reach a hand up to brush alhaitham’s cheek. he barely suppresses a shudder at the gentle touch.

“i didn’t think you to be the jealous type.”

“i’m not.”

“then what was that all about?” you hum. you’re… amused by this. amused by him grappling with his emotions. alhaitham feels his lips twitch downward.

if you didn’t know any better, he would appear to just be frowning. but you did… and it was like he was pouting. you giggle.

“i am annoyed,” alhaitham says, stressing the last word, “that we were interrupted by a stranger. nothing more.”

“nothing more?” you parrot, your eyes gleaming with amusement. “sure. and i’m the grand sage.”

alhaitham bites his tongue, pulling his hand away from your chin. his fingers flex—he has to stamp down on his self-control. being found in a compromising position in the library would surely wreck the both of your social statuses.

but the thrill of it… seeing you bent over the table, utterly wrecked under the careful ministrations of his hands—getting to mark his claim on you...

he quickly shakes the dangerous train of thought away.

“do you want to go home?” you suddenly ask, a coy smile dancing on your lips. he must have been obvious where his line of thinking was going, if you managed to catch on that quickly. the grin on your face tells him that you did.

alhaitham pretends to ponder it. grabs the book he set down, turns it over in his hands, then shrugs.

“sure. kaveh shouldn’t be home for another few hours.”

his voice was bedroom-soft, and the tone in which he said it—nearly purring—has heat pooling in your core.

“alright. let’s go?”

he wordlessly rises, holding out his hand for you. there’s a small part of him that feels a maddening satisfaction when you let out a pleased hum, followed by a surprised yelp as he gracefully slides an arm around you.

someone nearby makes a “shh” noise, and he completely ignores it. you giggle out an apology.

it was utterly unlike him, he thinks, as he guides you through the library with his arm wrapped around your waist, slowly moving to rest his hand on the small of your back when the two of you exit the library.

maybe he’ll try being more public in his attention to you. that would most certainly keep this from happening again.

[franeridart]

The Housecat Philosophy - Ep 44

Ep 00 || < Prev || Next >

Read ahead on Patreon || Catch up on Webtoon || support me on ko-fi~✨

[fuctacles]

Unusual, but maybe not in a bad way

Eddie's shoes might look good, but they were never a good choice for summer rains. He kept forgetting that and letting the reality of his fashion choices hit him hard in the face. Or knees.

The bus had a moving plate in the middle that usually wasn't a problem but today wasn't usual. Today the rain was pouring and Eddie's phone was at 15% because he had been too lazy to plug it in before falling asleep. So today he had to switch seats to one next to a charging port and as he was making the short voyage, a few things aligned perfectly to make today unusual, and in a bad way.

The rotating plate was wet from the rain.

The soles of his shoes had no grip.

The bus turned left.

"Shit."

Eddie gathered himself off the wet floor, cursing his shoes, the weather, and the throbbing pain in his knee. Without looking up he fell heavily into the seat that was his destination, afraid of the amused stares he might catch. His dignity? Gone. His pants? Well, they were torn already anyway so one new hole didn't make much difference. His knee? Bleeding, apparently. As he rubbed his knees, one of his hands came out red. He groaned.

"Of fucking course." He just had to hit something sharp on the usually safe and relatively smooth surface. 

When he was reaching to plug in his phone, someone grabbed the pipe just above the USB port. Eddie looked up and found a man looking down at him. He also realized the golden frames of his glasses complimented his hazelnut eyes beautifully.

"You should clean this up," the man said instead of making fun of him or asking if he was okay. No, he was holding out a packet of wet wipes like some kind of saint.

Eddie hesitated for a moment but while his dignity might be gone, the gorgeous man in front of him wasn't. He took the offered wipe.

"Thanks," he murmured, wiping the cut and the surrounding skin, cleaning off sand and blood.

The man dropped a backpack on the vacant seat next to him. Eddie eyed the pins attached to it; a couple of dinosaurs, a Hufflepuff crest, ‘protect trans kids’, and… a bisexual flag. Score.

"Pirates, Hello Kitty or dinosaurs?"

"Huh?"

"Band-aid," the man clarified, shaking a small tin can he fished out of his backpack. "I work with kids," he added like it explained everything. Well, it kind of did. Upon opening, the tin revealed an assortment of colourful band-aids.

Eddie hummed in thought, considering his choices.

"Dinosaurs."

"Good choice," the man praised with a smile, probably the same one he showed to the kids. Was he a teacher? Because suddenly all the teacher-student porn scenarios gained a new appeal. Where skimpy pencil skirts didn’t work on Eddie, a soft green jumper just might, apparently.

The man handed him a dino band-aid, apparently expecting him to apply it himself. Well, of course. They were two strangers on a bus, after all.

Disappointed, he put it on the cut, missing the amused tilt of the teacher's lips.

"Do you need anything else? I have some candy; lollipops, gummies…" The man flipped through the contents of his bag.

"Gummies?" Eddie's interest was piqued.

"They have colourful fillings and a tiny dragon on each wrapper," he advertised, offering him a small baggie to choose from. Again, his tone reminded him of an adult talking to a kid. This shouldn't be working on him as well as it was.

"Can I have two?" he asked, looking up into these stunning brown eyes. The level difference was not helping. Has he not sat down on purpose? To tower over poor Eddie's tiny metal heart?

The man smiled as he took a quick conspiratorial look around.

"You can even have three, just don't tell my kids," he whispered

"I ain't a snitch!" he assured and picked up two green candies and an orange one. Because red flavours belonged in the trash.

Or apparently in the plush mouth of a handsome stranger, since he picked one of those for himself. Maybe Eddie didn't hate them that much, after all. He could make an exception. Especially if he could taste them the fun way.

"You sure you don't want a lollipop? Water? Extra band-aid?"

Eddie shook his head adamantly but had a nagging feeling the man was stalling. His gaze dropped to the flag badge, giving him an instant shot of courage.

"Your number?"

The soft teacher's smile turned sly, and he knew he took the right step. His metal heart thumped in his chest, the sound resonating against his ribs. What a fun feeling.

"Better hurry up, my stop is next."

Eddie nearly dropped his phone in his haste to put in the string of numbers.

"What do I…?" he asked when the empty ‘name’ box stared at him from the screen.

"Steve," the man offered, just in time for the bus to stop. The doors swung open, and he was gone, but while the physical distance between them grew, Eddie now had the comfort of having him in the palm of his hand, hidden behind a number.

>> Thanks for the candy! 🖤 - Eddie 

[Steddie masterpost] [Ao3] [ko-fi]

[youssefguedira]

I wish you would write a fic about irreconcilable artistic differences on a movie set between Joe and Nicky.

not really irreconciliable as in not solvable at all but you know i had fun with this

Joe squeezes his eyes shut, covering his face with both hands, and leans forward. His shoulders tremble uncontrollably. He takes a short, sharp breath, and another, and another, but he can’t quite seem to get enough into his lungs. There’s a lump in his throat and a weight in his stomach. He leans forward with a low, wounded sound and–

“Cut,” Nicky says softly. Then, because it takes Joe a second to hear him: “Joe, stop.”

Slowly, Joe raises his head. Wipes at his eyes and takes a few deep breaths to steady himself. Nicky’s already up, frowning ever so slightly as he looks at the camera. 

“What is it this time?” Joe manages. His voice is hoarse; he has to clear his throat once or twice. Nicky doesn’t look up. The clock on the nightstand reads 01.34, but Nicky’s changed it a few times over the course of the shoot. He has no clue what time it really is, only that it’s dark outside.

It’s just the two of them in the room. Nicky had wanted to keep this one small, just him and Joe and the camera. The apartment they’re in is nice, if a little empty, though Joe supposes that’s the point. They’re in the bedroom, Joe sitting cross-legged on the bed, shirtless, sheets bunched up over his lap, a phone lying on the nightstand behind him. One entire wall of the room is taken up by a floor-to-ceiling window which lets the moonlight in, though there’s a few low lights set up behind Nicky to send bars of silver light across the bed, because the natural light hadn’t quite been strong enough for the effect Nicky wanted. It’s otherworldly; it’s beautiful. 

Nicky still isn’t looking at him, so Joe says again, “What?” It comes out a little harsher than he means it to, but it gets Nicky’s attention.

Nicky runs one hand through his hair. Joe can’t see him well, not with the light behind him and the shadows in the room. “I don’t know,” Nicky says. “It’s missing something.”

Joe has worked with Nicky enough times before. It’s not that he doesn’t like working with him - they’re friends - but he can’t fucking read him, and so after the sixth take of the same scene he can’t help but take it a little personally. 

Joe reaches for the bottle of water hidden just under the bed and takes a long drink, mostly to keep himself from snapping. What time is it? “I can try again, but I can’t do this indefinitely, Nicky.”

“I know, I know,” Nicky says, fidgeting again with the camera, “it’s not you, it’s just–” 

“What else could it be?” Joe interrupts. He’s not stupid. This scene doesn’t work if he can’t get it right, which means the entire film doesn’t work if he can’t get it right. More than anything else, this one depends on him. No music, no camera movement, no dialogue, nothing but him and the camera. And he wants to do it right, he loves this project almost as much as Nicky does, but there’s a hollow feeling in his chest and he’s spent the last however-many-hours having a near-complete breakdown over and over again and it’s still not right. And Joe doesn’t know what it is he’s doing wrong.

“I don’t know,” Nicky says quietly. Now he is looking at Joe, and Joe can’t tell if he’s disappointed, or angry, or – or what. He’s perfectly expressionless, as always. 

Joe loves this job. And he wants to get this right. But it doesn’t mean it’s not one of the hardest things he’s ever had to do, and he’s tired.

“I don’t have much more left in me, Nicky,” he says, and this time he does snap. He wipes at his eyes again, can’t look at Nicky. He’s supposed to be making himself vulnerable, above all in this scene, but suddenly he can’t stand the way Nicky’s looking at him. “Pass me my hoodie.”

“Joe–”

“I can’t. I can’t keep doing this.” He kicks the sheets off and gets tangled trying to do it, grabs his hoodie when Nicky offers it, pulls it over his head in one fluid motion and gets out of there as soon as he can. Thankfully, there’s only Andy and Nile in the other room, Andy lying back on the couch with her feet up and Nile perched on the arm of it. They both look up at Joe as he enters, both look like they’re about to ask, and Joe can’t stand it, can’t be in here a second longer, can’t–

“We are done for the day, I think,” Nicky says behind him, startling Joe. He hadn’t realised Nicky was there.

Andy raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t argue. It’s already the second day of trying to shoot this scene: they’re running the risk of falling behind schedule. 

“We’ll find something else to do tomorrow,” Nicky says. “I’ll look over everything tonight. We will try this again on Monday.”

Andy and Nile look at each other. Nile shrugs. 

“Get some rest, Joe,” Nicky says. 

Joe shoves his hands in his pockets and doesn’t say a word.

–--------------------------------

He doesn’t get called in the next day at all, and he doesn’t interrogate it too closely. Takes the day off, pretty much, because they’ve only really got one scene left to film, and there’s not much more he can do for that. Nicky had wanted to leave it to the last, and Joe had agreed, at the time.

At about nine pm, someone knocks on his hotel room door, which is unusual on a day where they don’t have a night shoot to do. When he opens it, Nicky is on the other side. Joe lets him in without a word. 

“I wanted to apologise,” Nicky says, standing in the middle of the room and looking as uncomfortable as Joe’s ever seen him. “For last night. I was pushing you too hard, and I should not have done.”

Joe closes the door behind him. Nicky fidgets with the sleeve of his hoodie. 

“Sit down,” Joe says. 

Nicky does, settling himself on the edge of Joe’s bed, not quite looking him in the eye. Joe joins him, after a moment. 

“At the risk of sounding cliche,” Nicky says, “it’s not you, it’s me.”

Joe laughs, mostly because the phrase sounds so strange coming from Nicky and also because out of everything he’d thought Nicky might say, he hadn’t expected that. 

Nicky smiles slightly, too. Then he gets up and heads for the minibar. “Mind if I have a drink?”

Joe shakes his head. Nicky gets out a little bottle of wine, glances at the label, and takes a swig straight from the bottle without bothering to get a glass. 

“I can’t seem to get it right,” Nicky says. “You know I wrote almost fifteen different versions of that scene?”

The scene in the script itself is barely a page long. “No,” Joe says. 

Nicky nods. Rubs a hand over his face. “I wanted it to feel real. I thought if I could get it right, it would… help, somehow. I don’t know.”

It’s the exact same reason Joe said yes before he even read the script, when the whole thing was just an idea in Nicky’s head, when they were talking about it over drinks at Andy’s and Joe was in love with the idea almost immediately. He knew exactly why Nicky was writing it; he knows, now, exactly why it needs to be right. But at the same time – “I don’t know if that’s possible, Nicky.”

Nicky sighs. “I know.” He crosses back over to sit beside Joe again, takes another drink from the bottle. “But there is something missing, and I cannot seem to find it. And so it does not feel real. And I know this is not easy for you.”

“It’s not,” Joe says plainly. 

“But you know,” Nicky continues, “I could not have trusted anyone with this but you. If you had not said yes, I would not have done this.”

That, Joe didn’t know: he knows he’d been Nicky’s first choice, but he’d assumed that’s because they know each other well enough already. But it makes sense: the reason Nicky wrote the script is the same thing they’d bonded over. 

Even still, it’s a lot. “I don’t know if I can do it the way you want,” Joe says. 

Nicky looks up at him from where he’s been running his fingers over the label on the bottle absentmindedly. “If you want to stop, I can–”

“No,” Joe says quickly. “But I don’t think it’s ever going to be exactly the way you felt.”

Nicky looks away. “It is a lot to ask,” he says. “I know this.”

Joe doesn’t think; just reaches over and takes Nicky’s hand. “I know,” he says. “Trust me.”

Nicky takes a deep breath. Then he nods. "Okay."

[plusultraetc]

happy spooky season!! here's the Halloween header as it's own post! I'm not much of an artist but I thought this idea was really fun 🧡

[eebie]

i will always be a little smug about being all over spot before the movie even came out Before the trailers even dropped When he was just a teaser poster and an actor namedrop… spot superfans rise….

[luvo27]

I have very bad cursive handwriting!! To demonstrate, a little behind the scenes for you: Here’s a page from my fic notebook!! For the last and final edits for the last chapters of the thing i was working on, i ended up saving them as drafts in ao3 where i then read them through and took notes on the things i wanted to change before going back in to edit, which is what this page is from.

plus, sticky note i made for myself regarding cass's characterization:

[pardonmydelays]

I might not have ani's wloquence with words but I have percy, so here's a picture of him cuddling with his toys (i hope u like cats)

oh my god i actually love cats so very much so THANK YOU!!! HE'S THE CUTEST!!! AND I'M SORRY BUT ONCE I REALIZED PERCY RHYMES WITH CLANCY I JUST COULDN'T HELP IT AND-

oh my god please don't kill me i may have turned your cat into this little guy jdhdjhdhe i love him and i'm sorry

[sci-bax]

Yall ive drawn Starlo 15 times in the last 7 hours am i cooked

[soultiio]

day 2: timeloop au + see you in hell

"there's nothing you can do about it. you will kill me over and over until you have to do it again. you can't wipe my blood in your hands, in your mouth. it's yours now, too. see you in hell"

[mintleafkitty72]

Okay, random thoughts about ROTTMNT regarding a "what if" scenario:

I saw this post and it got me thinking about what if the last back up plan of all back up plans for the bad future timeline in the Rise movie was supposed to be Both F!Leo AND Casey Jr. going back to the past to stop the Krang?

(Really really (that's two reallys) long talk about my thoughts on this under the cut)

Like, they both go back and it roughly follows the same timeline as the movie but so much would still be different just because f!Leo is there too with CJ. Which would be nice for CJ specifically because then he wouldn't be alone after the events of the movie and f!Leo and CJ would have someone that could talk to from the bad future, but I just can't stop thinking about how everyone would react and how differently conversations would go during the events of the movie specifically. There is just so much that could happen and it could go more into depth on how CJ feels about the events and how f!Leo would react as well. And every time Mikey tries using his mystic mojo, f!Leo and CJ's hearts break just a little and that also happens every time any one of them does something that their future selves would do in the bad future. (I wish we got more into CJ's character and how he was feeling during/after the events of the movie and I'm so glad that there are so many writers and artists who have dove into his character, thank you guys)

Just imagine f!Leo seeing his younger self come back from the initial attack on the Foot where he's panicking and Raph isn't back yet and f!Leo just gets a flash back to when he lost his Raph. And then past Leo would still go after CJ (and possibly f!Leo too) about how they knew this would happen and then both Splinter and f!Leo try to talk to p!Leo (or maybe it could go a different way, there's just so many possibilities). And then from that point on, f!Leo sees what p!Leo is doing and deciding as the leader and f!Leo is simultaneously irritated that his past self is being reckless and not listening to anyone's input but also realizing that he is a 16 year old kid and that he was too when the invasion first began in the bad future. (I personally don't think f!Leo would hate his past self if he ever went back in time and that he wouldn't act hostile towards his past self, there'd just be a lot of feelings that he never got to really acknowledge during the apocalypse and a lot of realizations and thoughts occurring that he also wouldn't be able to properly address until after the invasion is stopped. Plus, both Leos I feel like have a lot of self hatred but I don't think f!Leo would take out his hatred on his past self).

Then when the bros are going to the turtle tank, f!Leo either stays with Splinter and April while the bros and CJ go to where Raph is or f!Leo goes with the bros and CJ. If he goes to help find Raph, they'll all still get separated in the subway system but it would still be p!Leo and CJ and the PB&J duo + f!Leo and after that, the final fight would happen. How? Idk lmao, but it would still lead to p!Leo alone to fight Krang Prime and his self sacrifice. And it makes me wonder how f!Leo would react to his past self's decisions, knowing what he was getting himself into? Knowing he would have done the same? Understanding how CJ felt every time he made a similar decision in the bad timeline and barely made it out alive? Knowing exactly how p!Leo feels but also knowing exactly how everyone else feels when losing someone close? The dread of knowing that they're gone but not wanting to accept it? Thinking about how he is going to be the last of their family to die from the bad timeline but the first in this one? Then once a few minutes pass, Raph uses his comm to reach them.

And he tells them to get to Staten Island asap, his voice urgent and filled with worry, but not grief. Questions are asked and eventually Raph says that p!Leo is alive, awake (barely), but severely injured and needs medical attention like now. Then one of the four (either Splinter, April, CJ, or f!Leo) ask Raph how p!Leo isn't in the Prison Dimension anymore and he answers by stating Mikey made a portal with his mystic mojo and CJ and f!Leo's hearts stop. Because they think that Mikey died making that portal just like their bad timeline Mikey did.

So, the four of them head to Staten Island as fast as they can and CJ and f!Leo are confused but relieved to see that Mikey is okay and not dead (but they take note of the markings on Mikey's hands, Donnie's right hand, and Raph's left hand). Then, they see Leo's extremely broken body, they make their way home, and they ALL start their healing processes. How all of that may occur can go in many different ways and I'm down for any of them.

I'm sure others in the Rise fandom have also thought of f!Leo going with CJ to the past to "find the key and stop the Krang" but I just had that thought occur and I had to just talk about what that could entail and all my thoughts about it. Because there are a lot of works where f!Leo goes back in time but I don't think I've seen one where he goes back in time with CJ in order to stop the Krang and is there for the events of the movie. If any of you do know of something like that, would you mind sharing it? I'd love to see it.

[mpregspn]

cleaned it up a little here

It had been a good day - as good as it gets nowadays, anyway. The ghost terrorizing the small populace of bumfuck, nowhere had been put to rest with little fight (Dean did get slammed into a headstone but after all they've been through, it really seems like nothing) and Sam was alert and clear eyed and present and he had saved Dean's ass and laughed afterwards, flushed pink in the cold and high on adrenaline of a job done right. He hasn't looked this carefree in years (ages, Dean doesn't want to do the math but Sam said three minutes felt like a week and ages, he must've spent ages down there) and having him back should be enough already but Dean missed this, the sound of his little brother's laughter and the smell of gasoline and graveyard dirt. It was a moment so perfect Dean was sure it's gonna be over in a flash but somehow it continued on, Sam easy and relaxed in the car on their way back, bickering about who get the first shower and how he was right that the murders were the doing of the ghost of a local preacher, decades dead, and not a werewolf.

It was early enough still that usually Dean would go out to the local bar, partly to hustle some pool, mostly to get drunk, trying to forget, just for a moment, that his brother is insane (because he didn't protect him, because he let him go to hell and didn't get him out, not soon enough) and that the world is ending for the uptenth time (one of these things is more important than the other and it's not the one that ought to be) but with Sam looking so young, looking his age for once, smiling so widely, not pressing on the wound of his palm and not flinching at something Dean can't see, he could bear to make himself leave. He'd still cracked open a bottle of jack, because it's just a good way to round off a good day, poured himself and Sam one, then another. Sam's tolerance had increased in the years since Dean had gotten him back but since getting his soul back he seems lighter, the burden of Dean's deal and the apocalypse lifted off his shoulders, at least whenever he isn't toremented by the memories of what the devil did to him, and even in these moments he looks heartbreaking young. It didn't take much to get him giggling, flushed pink again but this time with alcohol, which reminded Dean of the first time Sam had gotten drunk, the time they'd broken into John's stash because it had been Dean's sweet sixteen and he'd gotten back home after celebrating with the friends he'd made at the local high school, and Sam had been waiting for him at home with a lecture on underage drinking, and Dean's solution to the problem was to spend the rest of the evening introducing Sammy to the wonders of beer.

Now he's found himself in the same position he'd been in that night a lifetime ago, pulling off Sam's shoes and manhandling him into the bed, tucking him in, brushing his hand through Sam's too long (perfect) hair and letting it linger, taking advantage of the fact that while Sam will probably still remember it in the morning he won't ever bring it up. Then he starts pulling off his own boots and he lets himself hope that this could last, that tomorrow morning they could just go get coffee and find a next not too complicated case that doesn't lead to yet another end of the world, but then, Sam asks -

- Dean, has dad ever, y'know, hurt us? hurt me? - he's loose limbed, burrowing his face into the pillow, and Dean has just reminisced about how they were scared shitless dad's gonna tan their hides when discovers their little bender, but that was just that, just joking, if John had noticed that his stash had gotten lighter he had put it on the account of Dean celebrating with his friends, he probably wouldn't have clasped Dean on the back and given him the keys to the Impala if he'd suspected Dean had gotten his twelve years old brother smashed.

- What do you mean, Sammy?

- You know, back there - he doesn't have to specify. Dean knows what back there means, even though Sam never talks about back there.

- back there, Lucifer, he would, - he still looks loose and open, and Dean would never think a few shots would be enough to get him talking about Lucifer, and if he did, he still wouldn't try to get him talking, because god, he doesn't want to hear this. Despite Sam easy tone, he doesn't think he's gonna like what comes out of his mouth next - He could. Make up scenarios, you know? Sets. Like Gabriel did. It was all empty and he could just, do whatever - His eyes are closed, he's frowning, but the corners of his mouth are still lifted up slightly. They just had such a good day.

- He would go through my memories. Sometimes it would be you - He snorts. Dean doesn't know what's so funny about this. He remembers Sam driving away with his imaginary doppelganger, pointing a gun at his head. He doesn't want to imagine what else his face did to Sam

- And, you know. I can tell the difference, but dad was his favorite, and we went over it so many times, sometimes - it gets mixed up. So I thought, I decidee, I just have to assume it's all bull.

He stops, for the first time seeming to catch on to Dean's silence. But what is he supposed to say to that? Sam had been down there long enough for Lucifer to create fake memories of abuse, god knows just how terrible, and even if he knows they're fake, he still remembers them. What difference does it make that a memory is fake?

He opens the eyes he didn't realize he was screwing shut, tries unsuccessfully to unclench his jaw. Kneels next to Sam's bed. Strokes Sam's long, perfect hair. So soft. Just like when he was still a kid.

- No, Sammy - he swallows - dad loved us. Never did anything like that. You two fought like hell but he wouldn't, he would rather die than hurt you, okay? You get that?

- Thought so. Thought he wouldn't. See, I still got it.

Dean thinks he's not sure what it is that Sam's got but it's most likely not it but he realizes he should be more grateful. He got Sam back and in one piece, even though everybody and their dog said Sam would be a drooling mess. And Sam is drooling, just a little bit, face is smushed into a pillow and mouth slightly open and he's gonna complain in the morning because he hates going to bed, especially drunk, without brushing his teeth.

If it's a good day. Because miraculously, they still get good days. It's just that even on the best of them, Dean can't help but think there's something irrevocably broken about his brother.

He keeps stroking Sam's hair until he drifts off into sleep. Then he finishes off the bottle of jack.

[caterpillarinacave]

for your prompt (I‘m bad at this I‘m sorry) — Christopher Lightwood + his scientific spirit + mushrooms (throw in some of the merry thieves or henry or grace or anna whatever you feel like)

——-

“It’s fascinating,” Christopher continued, holding the mushroom up to the light, “Fungi exist so entirely separately from the rest of the world. They aren’t plants, they aren’t animals; they can wreck crops and grow them, they decompose piles of debris like it’s nothing and can be squished beneath a boot. They’re the tool and the builder of the natural world, they save everything and they kill everything. We see them everywhere, as these tiny little things, as if the mycelium doesn’t stretch for miles beneath our feet, as if we aren’t so small compared to them.”

Christopher fell back into his chair, looking immensely satisfied, and upsetting tall glass full of strange shimmering liquid, that seemed to slosh around in its container at an oddly delayed pace. He did not seem to notice.

“Christopher-“ Henry began.

“No matter how many you pulled up, or what ground you burned, you could never kill- oh.” 

Henry, thankfully, had managed to lean across Christopher, narrowly righting the glass before it could tip its shimmering contents onto the table; the likes of which flashing with little streaks of color as it hit the sides of the container. Henry set it down on his side of the table, carefully away from the papers he’d been scribbling on, to search through a drawer for a lid.

Christopher looked sheepish; “I did not mean to do that.” 

“Do remember that you can, in fact, be killed,”  Henry responded mildly, ever agreeable, capping the glass bottle and offering it to Christopher “Gesture vividly away from the table.”

“Of course,” Christopher replied, looking a little abashed, but took the bottle none the less “Thank you.”

Henry hummer amicably in response, unbothered. “I believe you were saying something about the mycelium?”

“Oh, yes indeed” Christopher replied eagerly, sitting forward “Wait a second, I’ve got some about this in my notebook…”

—-

[stuffedsand]

for the violence ask game: 8 common fandom opinion everyone is wrong about. for milgram. i know exactly what you're going to say i just want to see you go off again

Hiii bestie. You do know what I'm about to talk about. Yippee

Disclaimer that this whole essay is like. For fun and how I say things is ramped up to be funny. I don't mind if you disagree w me cuz like that's the nature of things! We disagree but we can get along.

Anyways short answer for people who don't wanna see the essay: organ harvesting theory. This is about shidou.

Idk how prevalent it is rn since not many people even talk about shidou but it was prevalent enough in June when I got into milgram that I believed it for a bit anyways the rest in under the cut cuz I'm insane sorrg

SO the main reason I think the theory is WRONG (hyperbole‼️) is because I just think it's unrealistic. Man works in a hospital in Japan. How would he pull it off. Scuff an operation bad enough to cause braindeath/death and I'm p sure they suspend your medical licence, if he participated in an organ harvesting operation pre-family-accident his case would then be black and white cuz he was doing it in complete sound mind with no regard for human life. Also it wouldn't justify the extreme reaction he's had to realizing, specifically, "what I've been robbing people of" (t1 voice trailer), and he wouldn't have as heavy a focus on the relatives' feelings and reactions. At least story writing wise it'd make less sense since it doesn't allude to anything if that's the end goal? Imo at least. Idk maybe this is because I really like tragedies in media. Also because it'd be a really disproportionately severe crime compared to every other direct murderer???? Like. We have strangled someone, stabbed someone, bludgeoning, bludgeoning, kicked someone to death. Organ harvesting looks cartoony in this context. It's also not a very prevelant issue in Japan iirc.

Also to prove my point further. If we use this theories the murders would be

Strangling, abortion??????, cyber bullying, stabbing, organ harvesting, toxic r/s, telling the truth (lmao), bludgeoning, bludgeoning, bludgeoning (minus weapon). Organ harvesting is goofy cuz it seems so.... Extreme,,,,,,,

ALSSOOOOO funny point. If he's not directly involved in his murder (as in, unintentional and indirect) that makes 5 direct and 5 indirect. Silly.

Also also his murder seems somewhat tied to how he feels about his job itself ("I wanted to contribute to society (about his career choice)/I had thought my work was a contribution to society", use of past tense) and to me it reads like hes disillusioned w his job esp since his reason for getting a highly sought after, high paying and high social ranking job is "I wanted to contribute to society". Doctors with that empathy can be affected by the death around them more severely and I think that's a fun topic to look at

I count this under "common fandom opinion" cuz it was common enough around June (whenyours truesly got into milgram) that I believed it. I mean I introduced shidou to my friend (hello clown) as "maybe Dr malpractice. Organ harvesting dude" and said friend (hello again clown) is also the one who's heard me bash the organ harvesting theory like 6 times at least now so. Yippee.

Take none of this seriously I just got off a plane and am so very eepy. If you like the organ harvesting theory good for you!!!!!!!💥💥💥💥💥 you do you bestie !!!!!!!!!!!!!! I literally do not think less of anyone who believes that theory I just personally dont lmao

[localgardenweed]

I made a Eddsworld x Sonic AU a few months ago back in like January during the Sonic brainrot peak and like finally getting around to sharing some of the art and minor lore.

These are the designs for the main gang!! This was gonna be a full poster and i have lineart done but i kinda gave up on it. They all still do their usual shenanigans het into wacky shit but now they get to destroy Mobius with pride. Also occasional vigilantes but usual when shit is going wrong but Sonic and friends are on their own misadventure

Edd is a grizzly bear, Matt a vampire bat, Tom a porcupine and Tord a red fox

I also did the neighbors for good measure! Eduardo is a pitbull, Mark a peacock, Jon a opossum, and Todd a wolf. They just bother the main gang and get into their own shit, also maybe Jon dies idk yet still cant decide

And also Pat and Paul. I have them working as GUN agents since i thought they’d like that life. Pat is a falcon and Paul a ram. I also realized that Pat is the only one here atm thats colored in oopsies

I will definitely post more about these suckers and also the OC’s me and friends put into this AU. No one is safe rn NO ONEEE