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jellieland · 5 months

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"You know," says Jimmy smugly, "I think second is the best spot to die in, actually."

"Really," says Mumbo, exasperated.

"Yes, I don't know what you're so happy about," says Lizzie. "You barely lasted ten minutes more than me."

"Doesn't matter. Not out first, baby!" He crows, triumphant, to the neverending void.

"And you killed me last session!"

"...Yes, I, uh, I'm sorry about that one. Sort of. Mostly," he says, momentarily cowed.

"I can't believe you people," says Lizzie. "They didn't have a funeral for me. I died first, and you got one, and they didn't even have a funeral for me!" She sounds indignant, but a look of genuine hurt crosses her face for a moment.

"I'm going to be honest, Lizzie," says Mumbo awkwardly. "I think they had bigger things to worry about. I- I think Joel was quite sad about it, though. If that helps?"

"I suppose it's better than nothing." She crosses her arms.

"But- wait, hang on. Jimmy?" says Mumbo abruptly. "Did you say you wanted to go out second?"

"No!" Jimmy protests. "I just think if you have to go out, then second is sort of ideal, really, if you think about it!"

"No!" says Mumbo, indignant. "No, surely third is better, actually! And to extend that logic, fourth would be better as well, and fifth, and- well, you get the idea. Anyway, my point is that I did better than both of you!"

"Hey, don't bring me into this!" says Lizzie.

"Anyway, you're wrong," says Jimmy, back to being smug again.

There is a short silence.

"You, uh. You gonna elaborate on that one, buddy?" asks Mumbo.

"Well," says Jimmy. "Obviously going out first is terrible. Would not recommend. I don't know why anyone would do it, honestly, I know I would never-"

"You're going on my list," says Lizzie, cheerfully.

"Wait wait wait, no, I didn't mean it, I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I really am!"

"Hmm." Lizzie narrows her eyes. "Acceptable. For now."

A few moments pass.

"You may continue," she says.

"Right," says Jimmy. "What was I saying?"

"You were being wrong about how the ranking in this game works," offers Mumbo.

"No I wasn't!" says Jimmy. "Just, let me explain. Now, you obviously don't want to go out first, sorry Lizzie, but it's true."

"I will concede that point," says Lizzie. "It wasn't great."

"But—have you seen how they get?"

"How they... get?" Mumbo frowns. "What do you mean?"

"The people who don't die."

"I- now, I don't know if you remember this," says Mumbo, "But third is a new record for me, so I really don't know how you expect me to know that."

"Anyway," interjects Lizzie, "Mumbo and I have only done this once before. I mean, I guess people started losing it a bit once you two died, but it wasn't that much different to how it already had been. Although I wasn't around for that long at that point."

"Yes, but, it-" Jimmy frowns. "I haven't seen much of it either. But there's something- I don't know how to explain what I mean. Maybe you haven't noticed, but there's stuff with Grian, Scott, Pearl."

He stops, sighs. Looks at the ground.

"Martyn's going to be alone, now," he says.

"Well," says Lizzie, a little acerbic. "You don't have to have people die for that to happen, you know."

Jimmy gives her a look that is a combination of sheepishness and genuine regret. "Ah. Yeah. I guess not."

"So you're right," says Lizzie. "I don't know what you mean."

"...I did feel bad," says Jimmy, quietly.

"You... did?" asks Lizzie. "What about?"

Jimmy looks at her, then off to the side. "...When I killed you."

"Oh."

"I really didn't mean to," he says. "I felt bad. It wasn't satisfying. It was just... a person I cared about. Dead. Because of me. Because I acted without thinking, because I wasn't paying attention."

"...Oh." says Lizzie, softly.

"And that was when I knew you would come back," says Jimmy.

Lizzie and Mumbo exchange glances, unsure.

"I'm good with second," says Jimmy. "I think it's the closest you can get to winning, actually."

They stand there, silent, for some time.

"Well," says Mumbo eventually. "I still feel like third is a bit better, though."

"Mumbo!" cries Jimmy.

"Mumbo, come on, we were just having a moment!" says Lizzie.

"Yes well, look, I really need this, guys," says Mumbo, shifting his weight from side to side. "I don't know if you know this, but I've had a really bad day. It was just terrible!"

"I think we've all had pretty bad days, Mumbo!" says Lizzie, raising an eyebrow. "I don't know if you've noticed, but we all died!"

"Yes, I- I had picked up on that, actually."

"I don't know," says Jimmy. "My day was great!"

They keep talking, and bickering, and the emptiness stretches off into the distance.

It's nice, not to have to be there alone.

#secret life spoilers #secret life smp #jimmy solidarity #i think it's really interesting how both lizzie and mumbo have only been in one other season and died quite early on #I've just been thinking about those three #together after the end.#my writing

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abbyromanoff · 2 months

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Hey i have some request :))

Yn is taking care of drunk lizzie :))

DRUNK IN LOVE

PAIRINGS: Elizabeth Olsen x reader

WORD COUNT: 1,120

WARNINGS: mentions of drinking, mentions of sex and pregnancy, kinda suggestive but no actual smut, R taking care of Lizzie, Liz being drunk, breast worshipping, lactation (kinda?), pretty used like a billion times, think that’s abt it :)

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN!!

“C’mon, baby, ‘m not drunk.” Your wife falsely claimed, her eyes heavy and her breath reeking of alcohol. Her smile was full and giggly, and you rolled your eyes teasingly before continuing to guide her into the house.

“Mm, where you takin’ me, sweetheart?” You noticed it became a regular for her petnames to repeat when she was so out of it, and you felt a small red tint coming to your cheeks.

“I’m taking you to our room so we can get you ready for bed.” You replied, causing a smirk to instantly cover her lips.

“I mean, ‘m a little sleepy, but I wouldn’t mind sleeping with you.” She laughed, her head falling onto your shoulder as it bumped with every step. She bit her lip as she waited for you to chuckle in return, and when you finally did, she felt a sense of pride fill her.

“You..look s’good tonight, baby.” You hummed, placing your hand on her back to help her uneven steps.

“That shirt looks so,” She dragged out. “Good on you, I could just eat’ you up.” You gave her a suspicious glance before opening the door to your room, letting her take one step in before you were back onto her holding her by the waist.

“Mhm, we should do this more often, I like how you feel.”

“Yeah, no. I’m not letting you get this drunk again, and if you do I better go with you.”

“You’ the one who decided not to go with me.” She frowned. But it was true, you had stated you weren’t feeling all the best and wished to stay home. While she supported your decision and even wished to stay with you, it was a public event she had to attend. Fans and interviewers were skeptical about your disappearance, but she brushed it off with the truth before downing shots with many of her friends, all of which was photographed by paparazzi.

“Well, I am so very sorry that I’ve been puking all week and I do not feel like doubling that with alcohol.”

“Maybe you’re pregnant.” She guessed, sitting on the edge of the bed as you stepped into the walk-in bathroom for a cloth to remove her makeup. You nearly choked on nothing when she spoke.

“Let’s hope not.” You began wiping her skin, but she pulled back at your comment.

“You don’ want my babies?” You sighed with a hint of laughter before you set both hands on the sides of her cheeks. You pulled her in close, leaving a kiss to her lips before muttering.

“I would love to have your babies, but we’ve been together for eight months and I don’t think we’re exactly ready yet.” You pecked the brim of her nose and leaned back, continuing your actions before helping her remove her dress.

“I want you to be pregnant already.” She stated after a moment of silence. You hummed with a small grin, focused on the zipper on the back of her clothes.

“You’d be so pretty pregnant. Not that you’re not pretty right now, cause you’re really pretty right now, like, really pretty. But you’d be even prettier pregnant, and your stomach would get so big and your tata’s would too.”

“Did you just call my breasts ‘tata’s’?” She nodded with an exaggerated laugh, nearly falling over until you held her close by the arms.

“I love your breasts, they’re so pretty.”

“You call me pretty a lot,”

“You don’ like it?”

“Oh, I love it, baby. But I think you’re a little too drunk to be thinking about me pregnant, next thing you know I’ll actually be pregnant if you keep talking.” She now sat naked on the bed as you went through the closet to pick her pajamas for the night. She noticed the set you had on and that it was a matching pair with hers, and she quickly insisted you gave her that one. You agreed, helping her into the outfit before guiding her to the bathroom.

“Alright, last step is brushing those teeth.” She watched intently as you began the steps needed, and she made a face of disgust as she tasted the mouthwash.

“Don't swallow it,”

“I thought I told you to always swallow?” She quickly spit out the liquid to allow herself to make the dirty comment, and you bit your lip to stop the laugh that threatened to escape.

“I made you laugh!”

“You always make me laugh, Liz.” You dragged her back into the bedroom where you let her sit on the bed and begin cuddling herself under the blankets. You went to grab a glass of water and promised to be fast, coming back to the sight of Lizzie half asleep and small snores coming from her mouth. You placed the drink on her bedside table and got under the covers, letting her cuddle up to you instinctively. She rested her head on your chest, nuzzling her face against your breasts. Most of her body was on top of you by now, and you gave up on ever pleading with her to give you room when it came to sleep.

“Mm, take it off.” You unbuttoned the shirt she tugged on and smiled at her large expression. She pressed a kiss to your chest before sliding over a few and doing the same to your nipple. You sighed and ran your fingers through her soft hair. She looked up at you for permission before moving to the other, a small line of spit following her. She spent a few moments longer as she sucked soothingly, the action aiding her further into sleep. She left one last kiss to both of your breasts before your lips received the same.

“Pretty titties, I love ‘em.” You only shook your head and allowed her to attach herself back to your soft flesh.

“My pretty girl,” You exaggerated the compliment and earned a small giggle that was followed with a large blush adorning her cheeks.

“You prettier, baby.”

“How about we’re both very, very pretty, yeah? Will that make you happy?” She nodded and silence fell upon you two. You almost believed she was finally asleep as your body was close to following suit, that was until her voice came in a hushed whisper once again.

“You’re still..still prettier.” You decided it was best not to fight with her and agreed before hearing soft breaths coming from her mouth. You admired her sleepy form as you felt her open mouth slowly drooling onto you. You took a quick photo to show her the next morning before placing your arm around her back and shutting your eyes with a grateful smile.

#elizabeth olsen comfort #elizabeth olsen x gender neutral reader #elizabeth olsen x gn!reader #elizabeth olsen x reader fluff #elizabeth olsen x you #elizabeth olsen fluff #elizabeth olsen angst #elizabeth olsen x fem!reader #elizabeth olsen x female reader #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen #elizabeth olsen x reader comfort #elizabeth olsen x reader angst #elizabeth olsen x y/n

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theminecraftbee · 5 months

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Joel turns around. Martyn is standing there. His eyes are a burning red that gives Joel the heebie-jeebies. If anyone would know to be scared, it's Joel! He would! He'd recognize a mad dog if he saw one anywhere!

Anyway, all of that is to say that his high-pitched scream had been totally justified. "Oh my word Martyn what are you doing here?" he says, clutching his hand over his heart, several feet further back than he'd been thirty seconds ago.

Martyn snorts. "Is the sign not for me? Figured there was no one else it could be for."

"The what?"

"The sign."

Joel turns around. Outside his base, the other Mounders have hung a helpful banner: "SORRY EVERYONE YOU LOVE IS DEAD <3".

He'd told them it was kind of rude, hanging that up. Sort of made light of the whole thing, really. His wife and Mumbo and Jimmy had died, guys, don't be idiots about it. Bdubs had loudly told him that he was TRYING to be helpful, Joel, geez, why don't you appreciate his efforts? Pearl had shrugged and said they don't exactly make cards for this kind of thing. Joel's pretty sure they do, actually but...

Sorry everyone you love is dead. Hah.

"My wife is dead, Martyn," Joel says.

"Who, Lizzie or Jimmy?" Martyn says, weirdly dark. "Anyway, my husband's dead, so--"

"Your what?"

"Mumbo and I got married one time. Everyone forgets that for some reason."

Joel has to think about it a while. "Huh."

"Yeah. Anyway, you've still got the other Mounders, huh? Don't know what you're crying about. Thought the sign had to be for me. Thought I'd show up. Get cake. Kill some people. You know how it is."

"If there's a TNT minecart in my base, the first thing I do after I turn red is kill you," Joel says.

"That's not really how it works this time," Martyn says.

"Yeah, well, screw you," Joel says. "Also, they didn't make me any cake. I should ask them for that next. Hah. A cake."

"You know, maybe don't ask for that? Parties tend to go wrong in this game."

"And who's fault is that, huh?"

"Hey, don't look at me! Or, do. Since I'm going to kill everyone, on account of everyone I love being dead and all. Really convenient excuse for murder, that. I should use it more often, if it didn't involve the crippling grief," Martyn says.

"Oh, please. At least you tend to have people to love in the first place," Joel snaps.

"Oh, right, that is your curse, isn't it?" Martyn says. "Sorta broke it last time, but you do tend to get isolated and a bit crazy. Hey, I wonder if we're the ones who traded, actually what with the whole wolf thing."

Joel blinks. "What?"

"Oh, we're all cursed," Martyn says. "After all, They like it better that way. Hey, do you think Jimmy's curse transferred to Lizzie, got cancelled out by the fact Lizzie tends to die stupidly, or got broken? Personally, I'm thinking random fluke, when it comes to canary nonsense."

Joel stares at Martyn. His throat is dry. "What?"

Martyn stares back. "Hey, I'm the mad dog this time," Martyn says. "You probably shouldn't be the one growling."

"Well then, you should stop saying stupid shit," Joel says.

"Stupid? Please. It's obvious everyone is cursed. Nothing to be done about it but to play into the--"

"NO ONE IS BLUMIN' CURSED," Joel shouts, his vision suddenly red and blurry in a way it shouldn't be when he's still on yellow. "NO ONE IS BLUMIN' CURSED. THERE'S NO SUCH THING! YOU'RE JUST, JUST MAKIN' UP REASONS IT ISN'T ALL A TRAGEDY THAT EVERYONE I LOVE IS FUCKING DEAD, MAKING UP REASONS THAT IT--NO ONE IS CURSED! IT JUST HAPPENS! IT JUST HAPPENS! IT JUST FUCKING HAPPENS! AND WOULDN'T IT BE BLUMIN' NICE IF THERE WERE A HIGHER POWER BUT THERE ISN'T SO SHUT THE FUCK UP ABOUT CURSES!"

He's panting. Martyn is staring at him. He stares back, a snarl on his teeth, the echoes of wolves and of grief, grief, grief, grief playing at the back of his throat.

"Joel?" Martyn says, hesitant.

"My wife is fucking dead. My best friend is fucking dead. One of my new possible best friends is fucking dead. Sorry about your husband, I guess? Get out."

"Bold thing to say to the guy who can kill--"

"I SAID GET OUT!"

Martyn stares at Joel a moment longer, and Joel finds he's not scared of the madness in his eyes at all.

Martyn leaves.

Joel realizes he's crying. The tears turn into giant, ugly sobs. Sorry everyone you love is dead. Sorry everyone you love is dead. Sorry everyone you love is dead.

"I blumin' hate caring about people," he says to no one at all through choked breaths, and he kicks a rock at the banner for good measure. It pokes a little hole through it and bounces off the dick-shaped tower behind it.

"Someone really should have made both of us a blumin' cake, they should," he says next, and he sits down until Pearl runs over, having heard the shouting. His face is red and his vision is still swimming. She stares at him, gathers him in her arms, and cries with him, and for the life of him, he doesn't know if that's any better.

#secret life smp #secret life spoilers #a bee fic #joel smallishbeans #martyn inthelittlewood #ONE MORE FOR THE ROAD THIS SESSION HAS INSPIRED ME TO WRITE APPARENTLY.#anyway the life series is a tragecomedy and everyone copes with that differently i think #i am trying to really CAPTURE the simultaneous tragic and comedic vibes here #anyway. opposing views on curses and causality in the face of grief huh?

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dmwrites · 5 months

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Here’s the thing. It wasn’t really Lizzie’s spine.

What was a man supposed to do? Lizzie had died in the end dimension, for goodness sake, walked off the edge. There is no bottom of the end, no body to collect. So Scar had to improvise.

His task had said to become the villain of the server. Scar had read it with a heavy heart, surrounded by his loneliness already. He’d been chased, stolen from, slashed at, left. And he’d tried so hard to be nice and friendly. By all means he should become the villain of the server. Grief, steal, make enemies. But he was so tired, so sick of the unfriendly silence that surrounded him all the time.

But Scar had tried, he really did. He burnt the heart foundation to the ground, watched that happy face melt off its oh-so-flammable head. He roasted anyone who passed, and their enchanting setups. He shot at anyone who made a pass at him. But it all felt stiff and cold, practiced movements of a wind-up doll that just did the same thing over and over again. There was no bloodthirsty joy in this, just that dreadful knowledge that his task was driving him further from people he wanted to love him.

Looking back, he wasn’t quite sure what exactly drove him to the idea of selling Lizzie’s spine to her grieving husband Joel. Maybe it was that desperation for anything that would make him feel alive again, or the pressure of the task looming over him telling him he hadn’t done enough. But no matter the origin, the ending was the same. Scar was standing in front of the simple gravestone of Jimmy Solidarity, shovel in hand.

The dirt was fresh still, easy to slide his shovel into. Lizzie and Jimmy and Mumbo had all died in rather quick succession only a few days ago, and it had been quite the convenience that a grave had already been dug for one of them. Lizzie would have been first choice, obviously, but the only thing left of her was her house. Mumbo had been lovingly taken away by the mounders and placed somewhere in their walls, so Jimmy was the obvious choice. No one would notice any change to the grave anyway- Jimmy had been dead in the eyes of most of the people here even before he’d been killed.

Scar worked with a single-minded focus, channeling all the terror and the loneliness he’d felt in this damn world into his frenzied digging. He didn’t hide what he was doing- at this point, no one would even come near him. He’d shoot them if they did.

His shovel hit wood, and he grinned. Something was beginning to stir within him, finally, finally. He’d tried so hard to be good and polite and fair. And where had it gotten him- well, to Jimmy’s grave, mostly.

He cracked the lid.

There was already some sag and rot to the peaceful face of Jimmy Solidarity. Physically, he’d been unharmed by the warden’s sonic blast that had ended his life for good- the harm was all to do with the brain and all that. Scar wasn’t a scientist, just a buzzard, and all he cared about was the spine.

It took a fair amount of grunting and strength to flip Jimmy’s body over, and he certainly wasn’t helping. Dead weight and all.

“Listen, Jimmy, it’s for the best, you know.” Scar said, taking out the dagger he’d crafted only a few hours ago. “You’re not doing anyone any good by just lying here, and I have profits to make. No hard feelings, bud.”

He sliced down, just kind of guessing at where he’d meet tissue and fat instead of ricocheting off of bone. It was messy, messy work, as Scar carved away at Jimmy’s back. But he got there eventually, the bright shine of bloody bone within the mound of meat. Scar had to hack at various connective tissue and bone to pry the spine free, and boy was he winded, but finally, finally, he felt the low heat of gritty joy as he held the bone structure in his hand.

“Thank you Jimmy.” Scar leaned down, pressed a kiss to what used to be Jimmy’s lower back. His face came away wet, and he licked his lips.

Scar kicked the dirt back onto the grave after he pulled himself out of it, messy and quick-like. No one would notice, no one would care. They’d all be dead soon anyway. Scar had only one thing on his mind now, and it was to profit from this endeavor. He wondered how many diamonds Joel would be willing to trade for this, how many riches he would get from the secret keeper for this task complete.

“Joel!” Scar called, waving as he made his way up the hill to Joel’s place- a fairground of sorts, a real nice place to get dizzy at.

“Hey fella- woah, what on earth happened to you?” Joel’s mouth fell open as he took in Scar’s appearance.

“Oh, have you not seen my outfit yet? Look at my butt, there’s sunflowers on it.” Scar said, turning slowly in place.

“No, I’ve seen that… Scar, you’re covered in blood! And dirt!” Joel exclaimed. “How- you’re not even red, surely you’re not-”

“Joel, my good friend, have I got a deal for you!” Scar interrupted, giving Joel a hearty slap on the back (he heard the tick of half a heart of damage taken). “I have Lizzie’s spine, and I was wondering what you would trade me for it?”

He pulled the spine from his bag, red and white glistening in the sunlight. It hung limply like a dead snake from his open palm. Joel’s eyes widened, and he took a step backwards.

“I don’t really want it.”

He knows, something whispered in Scar’s head.

“Oh, sure you do! A memory of your wife, so sadly taken from us, rest her soul.” Scar purred, putting a hand to his heart. He stepped closer after a moment of silence, the spine swinging in his hand. There was blood on his shoes.

“I- fine, just look in my chests, take whatever you want.” Joel rasped, a hand on the doorframe of his house. He kept stepping away from Scar, eyes darting from him to the bone in his hand. Joel was scared, deliciously so.

“Fantastic!” Scar said brightly, taking a few things from the chests and tossing the spine in Joel’s direction. “Thank you so much for doing business, Joel. Enjoy your wife! Or, a piece of her, anyway.”

He left, not waiting for any kind of response from Joel. His heart was pounding, and perhaps for the first time this whole season, he felt alive.

#tw gore #secret life smp #goodtimeswithscar

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cloudrumble23 · 7 months

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Evan woke up gasping, his shirt plastered to his back and his hair stuck to his face. He rubbed the tears from his eyes quickly to focus on the clock. 5:48 a.m. An ominous feeling spread through his entire body, but he took comfort in reminding himself that nothing bad could happen while Fredbear was watching over him.

The fabric of his plushie was worn and stuffing was sticking out between some of his joints, but Evan couldn’t bear to part with him long enough for proper repairs to be done. Father always said it would take a few days to fix the plushie if he wanted it done properly, and Evan would never accept a poor repair job, so instead of giving up the bear for repairs, he just kept Fredbear as he slowly deteriorated more and more each day.

He didn’t feel too bad about it though; Michael had done the exact same thing to his Foxy plushie, and he’d had his toy much less time than Evan had. Evan swapped out the destroyed plushie with his own, but Michael hadn’t seemed to notice, even as the original plushie’s head fell off somewhere, making it impossible to repair the poor fox.

The vest was coming a bit loose, but Evan ignored that. Fredbear didn’t need the vest anyway. It wasn’t his identity any more than Foxy’s hat was, and besides, no one remembered that Foxy even normally came with a hat. He squeezed the small bear, humming softly to himself as he waited for 6 a.m. to arrive.

Evan walked cautiously down the hallway to the kitchen, his guard still up from his unpleasant night’s rest.

“You stink,” Elizabeth complained. She was already in the kitchen eating her cereal while Michael was pouring his own bowl.

Michael rolled his eyes. “Welcome to reality Lizzie. People sweat and have body odor.”

“You never stink in the morning,” she retorted as Evan set Fredbear on the counter before climbing on it to reach the cabinet.

“I put on deodorant. Ev, get off the counter. I can get that for you.” Michael grabbed another bowl from the cabinet and filled it with cereal as well. “I’ll get Evan some when I go to the store, okay?”

“You better,” Elizabeth grumbled into her cereal.

“Plus, it’ll be fine. He’s probably going to shower before we leave for school anyway.”

Elizabeth scowled at that. “But then I won’t have time to do my hair.”

“Then I’ll do it.” Michael rolled his eyes again. “You talk like you have a terrible life, Liz.”

“Maybe I do!” Elizabeth snapped, shoveling more cereal into her mouth.

“Good morning to you too,” Mother said, yawning as she walked into the kitchen. “Are we having cereal for breakfast today?”

“Yes Ma’am,” Michael said, grabbing Evan around the waist to drag him from his spot on the counter. “I was planning to go to the grocery store today to pick up a few things.”

“No nonsensical things we don’t need now, Michael. You know how your father hates that sort of thing.”

“Of course,” Michael’s voice sounded stiff, but he maintained his politeness. “Do you want some cereal as well?”

“That’d be lovely, darling.” She sat down beside Elizabeth. “You children are so wonderful.”

Evan felt himself finally starting to calm down. Today was a good day. Mother and Michael were both in a good mood, a rare occurrence, if he was being honest with himself. Elizabeth’s mood was always sour, depending on who she decided to blame for her problems, but she was manageable. He just hoped they didn’t see his Father before school. That was the one thing that could ruin the peaceful moods of his mother and brother before they left for school.

“Do you want to go to the store with me, Evan?” Michael said abruptly after they’d all finished eating. “So you know where to look for deodorant next time?”

“I guess so,” Evan replied quietly, hoping that was the right answer.

It must’ve been, because Michael smiled faintly and ruffled his hair. His expression faltered, and he made a face though. Michael wiped his hand on his pants. “You really need to shower before we leave though, Little Man. Lizzie was right, no offense. You are kind of gross this morning.”

Evan shrugged. He didn’t want to explain the nightmares, assuming it would put Michael in a sour mood. He didn’t want to ruin the moment.

“Fredbear’s not looking too good lately either,” Michael mused. “Want me to stitch him up for you?”

“Huh?” Evan blinked up at his brother. “Fredbear’s fine.”

“His stuffing’s going everywhere-“

“He doesn’t need anything. He’s fine!” Evan scooped the little bear into his arms, and Michael raised his hands in surrender.

“Fine, fine. If you change your mind, let me know. It would only take, like, 30 minutes, tops.”

Evan didn’t reply to that. Instead, he changed the subject. “I’m going to go shower.”

“Okay.” Michael almost sounded disappointed. But that didn’t make sense. Normally he was happy to be rid of him. Especially so near his birthday, when his friends would be coming over all the time.

On the walk to school, Elizabeth wouldn’t stop gushing about how wonderful her hair was. She practically begged Michael to make it a more regular occurrence, but Michael just shrugged. Evan could see the smile on his face though. He knew it was only a matter of time before Elizabeth got her way.

“Mike!” one of Michael’s friends tried to call him over, but Michael ignored him.

“Come on, you two gotta get to class,” he said softly, putting his hand on Evan’s shoulder to direct him away from the other kid. With a startle of surprise, Evan saw a faint frown on Michael’s face. Maybe he’d had some kind of fight with his friends? Evan couldn’t ask about it, just in case.

“You can’t ignore us forever!” one of the boys shouted angrily while Michael guided Evan in the direction of the store after school.

“Just keep walking,” Michael muttered. He seemed very tense, and Evan wasn’t sure he could do anything to reassure his brother. He just did as Michael asked, hurrying along so they could get out of range.

A few short minutes later, they were walking into the store. Evan felt odd. He’d never been to the store without his parents before. Normally, he and Elizabeth only came when Mother was looking for something specific, or when Michael was sick, and Father was going to the store instead. Being here with Michael was… different.

“They don’t get it,” Michael whispered, seeming to forget who he was talking to.

Evan blinked at him, but Michael didn’t elaborate until after they’d filled the basket with necessary groceries and Evan’s deodorant.

“Everyone expects so much from me,” he mused. “My friends seem to think I have to give them every second of my attention. Mother thinks I have to be responsible all the time. Father…” Michael shook his head. “Even Uncle Henry assumes things. It’s awful, Ev.”

“Maybe it’s just because they like you so much,” Evan said quietly, hoping not to upset him.

“Nah. They expect me to disappoint them. Aside from my friends, anyway. It’s just so stupid. All this shit I have to put up with.” Michael froze. “I mean- Just forget I said that.”

Evan giggled involuntarily, surprising them both. “You’re not seriously apologizing for saying ‘shit,’ are you?” Evan asked. “Kids say that all the time at school.”

“Yeah, but if Mother or Father catches you saying that-“

“Who’s going to tell them?” Evan blinked innocently up at Michael.

He groaned. “I forgot how insufferable you are.”

“Only when I can be.” Evan grinned, feeling secure in his behavior. “Let’s get home. I have homework to do.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me.” Michael shook his head, but the faint smile Evan had seen that morning returned.

“Want to watch T.V. with me?” Michael said when he walked into the kitchen.

Evan guessed he was finished with his own homework, considering his confidence in the way he sat beside Evan at the counter.

“What are we watching?” Evan replied, continuing his notes while Fredbear observed them both.

“The Immortal and the Restless,” Michael said with confidence. “And, it’s not even scary, so you won’t wet yourself when we watch.”

Evan shook his head disparagingly. “I got scared watching a movie with you one time-“

“It gave you nightmares, Ev! I got in so much trouble for that, you know.”

“Then why offer to watch something with me again?” Evan asked before realizing what he was implying.

“I-“ Michael sputtered. “C’mon, man.”

Evan put his pencil down and stared at his brother. He wasn’t getting angry, which meant Evan could actually ask serious questions without fearing consequences for it. “You spend all your time making fun of me, and teasing me, and scaring me, and making me miserable. Why should I trust that you actually want to watch something with me?”

Evan expected a lot of potential reactions to his comments. Yelling, maybe. What he didn’t expect was for Michael to crumple in on himself. “I… Look, it’s not…” Michael swallowed harshly. “I can’t say anything to justify my past actions. You have every reason to be weary. But maybe I’ve changed, Ev. I want to spend time with you. I’m tired of pretending all the time, and I-“

“You’re not kidding,” Evan said softly. “Were you exaggerating this morning, then? When you said it would only take 30 minutes to fix Fredbear?”

“What? No. It’s a bunch of little fixes. You just gotta have the right thread. And if we hurry,” Michael glanced at the clock nervously, “I know Father has thread in his office.”

“You…” Evan blinked. “You’d do that for me?”

“I gotta prove my point somehow, don’t I?” Michael jumped up from his seat. “I’ll be right back.”

Evan turned back to his homework, no longer able to fully comprehend what was happening here. Was Michael genuine? Was he really trying to be a better brother? Evan honestly had no idea, but the best way to find out was to wait until the summer, when Michael was always really nasty usually. For now, though, he’d settle for help repairing Fredbear.

Michael returned, out of breath and a little bit shaky. “We only have a few hours before Father is supposed to be home.”

“Lucky you said it wouldn’t take very long,” Evan said softly, expecting a contradiction.

“Still frightening to think about,” Michael replied. “Okay, I got this.” He threaded the needle and looked at Evan expectantly. Reluctantly, Evan handed his brother the battered gold bear.

Michael set him up gently on the kitchen counter, tucking the stuffing back where it belonged as he started his row of stitching. Evan knew the seams had been originally on the inside of Fredbear, but Michael had tried explaining that he couldn’t fix Fredbear like that. He’d rolled his eyes actually, saying that doing it that way would take a sewing machine and a trip to the workshop, something Michael was not willing to do without permission.

So Evan had to accept that the repairs would be visible, but at least Fredbear would be ready to fight off another night of terrors.

Evan didn’t mean to fall asleep against Michael’s shoulder while watching the show. In his defense, he didn’t have a clue what was going on, and Michael was too busy watching to explain it to him. Evan ended up giving up on the show to study his brother’s face. It surprised him how energetic Michael seemed while watching the screen, but then, Evan guessed this was one of his rare moments where there weren’t expectations dragging him down.

He stirred as Michael carried him upstairs. Confused, Evan blinked sleepily at his brother. “What-“

“Shhh, go back to sleep,” Michael said softly. “I just want to make sure you’re not going to have nightmares.”

Evan always had nightmares. That was the general idea of everything going on. He hated the idea of disappointing Michael, especially after how nice the day had been, but he couldn’t control his dreams. Not now and certainly not ever. He couldn’t even remember a time when he didn’t have nightmares every night. But he had a feeling Michael wouldn’t be swayed in this, so he just nodded against his brother’s chest and closed his eyes again.

Evan didn’t have any nightmares that night. Or at least, they weren’t nightmares he remembered. He woke up that morning with Michael curled protectively around him, like Michael was afraid of something happening. Evan wasn’t particularly worried about that, though.

For the first time in years, he felt content and safe.

#cloud writes #hiiiii #I should really be asleep rn #but I wanted to get this done today #well #tonight anyway #since it's past midnight here #but yeah #afton family #evan afton #michael afton

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padfootdaredmetoo · 1 year

Note

Please can I have a Tommy x daughter fluffy fic where as her mums died she asks him to come with her to try on ballgowns with her and he doesn’t like a few for different reasons but he gets emotional when she finds the perfect one

Hey Anon,

Hope this does it justice - this request got me in the feels. Thanks for waiting. <3

Warnings: Teen drama, mentions of funerals and death - peaky related stuff

There were a lot of things you kept to yourself when it came to your father. Most of which Esme and Polly would wrangle out of you and give you advice for.

You were close with each other the same way you suspected other fathers and daughters were. He was there to comfort you in his own way (mostly just holding you tightly) when you needed him, he gave you books to read and would try to remember to ask you questions about how you enjoyed them.

He was away a lot for business but he always called you before bed to ask how your day was. Some moments when he’d drank to much you saw the pain in his eyes when he looked at you, a spitting image of your mother but with his eyes.

You adored him, and rarely ever asked him for difficult things knowing he was always stressed.

“Awe, you miss us, don't you? Next time we go you’ll be old enough to tag along. An extra week won't kill you darling.” Esme’s voice rang out over the phone and your stomach sank. You were in a proper situation now. You said your goodbyes but didn't tell her why her taking an extra week's vacation with Pol was a problem for you.

You lit a cigarette and slid down the kitchen wall. They would be home the day of the big charity ball, not the type of event you could get a dress for the morning of. They must have forgotten that they’d promised to take you when they got back. You didn't blame them, this was the one time they got away from kids and the business.

You could ask… Lizzie? She hung around the family, worked for your dad, and seemed nice enough to you when you came by the office. She’d probably be able to help you.

You needed a backup plan, Linda still hadn’t forgiven you for an outburst you’d had at dinner a few weeks ago, but maybe John would help you?

You thought about getting ready with Esme he’d always tell her what looked good. Well, mostly how he enjoyed the way it looked on her, but still Esme always looked very happy with his commentary.

You got up and flicked your cigarette out the window before going to ask for a ride to the office.

You showed up and Lizzie greeted you with a large smile.

“Here to see your dad are you?”

“Well, I was actually - I -” The words got caught in your throat, she was far too pretty. Thinking of her seeing your awkward body in dresses made you shrink away. “Have you seen Uncle John?” You said quickly.

“Should be in his office.” She gave you a look and you thanked her. You knocked on the door and his voice called out.

“Hey kiddo,” he said looking up from a mess of papers. “Your da’s got me right tangled in this stupid paperwork. Give him a kick in the shin when you see him next will ya.”

“Sure.” You laughed. “Guess you're pretty busy then?”

“Be lucky if we survive another week with the hens gone.” He sighed, there was no way he’d be out of this mess any time soon, but maybe he could just tell you what to wear.

“What erm- What types of things does Esme wear that you like?” He looked confused by the question.

“Trying to impress a lad then? Odd person to come to for advice on that.” He scratched the back of his head but before you could fix what you said he’d already carried on.

“Look if he doesn't like you as you are then there's no point in going after him. Gal’s seem to think we care about all the fuss when really - we’re going to see eve-”

“What are you doing, love?” Your father's voice called from the doorway. Happier than ever to see him you sprang up from your seat and moved to give him a hug. Jarred by what you figured John was implying you decided to just pluck up the courage to ask him to go.

“Get that shit done John, needs to be out by tomorrow morning,” John swore at him and you followed your father out of the room his arm steering you into his office.

“What did you need from John?” He asked moving behind his desk.

“Well, I didn't want to bother you.”

“Trust me, love if it's worth asking, it’s not worthy of Johns's advice.”

“Ah, well, I need a dress for the ball.” You stated, and he gave you a curious look. “Um, well it's my first time really going, for the dinner and dancing and everything.” You coughed awkwardly. For a moment you hoped that he would just understand where this was going and tell you he’d help you, but you looked at his face and knew he was lost as ever.

“SO” you said a little too loudly. “I erm - need to get a proper dress, Polly and Esme said they would take me but they won't be back in time.”

You brought your gaze from the wallpaper once more to still see him still looking confused.

“You can have any dress you want, just give me the receipt.” He shrugged.

‘No- I erm. I just- need someone to go with me.” You confessed sounding irritated. “I don't know what looks good - I’m not good at that type of stuff. John always tells Esme what he thinks about her dresses when we get ready so I figured he would be a good person to ask.”

“I’ll take you.” He said uncomfortably. “We can go after-” He looked down at his schedule. “Can it wait till after dinner?”

“Oh, yeah - thanks”

“No problem,” He said with a nod looking only slightly put off.

“I’ll head back to the house -”

“I’ll grab you at 7”

You gave him a nod and then left the office saying bye to Lizzie.

Dinner was nice, you rarely ever went out to eat. You rambled on about a book you were reading and your dad followed along. Eventually, you started to tuck into your meal and he sighed.

“So there's a boy then?” He asked looking pained.

“No?” You said startled with a mouth full of mashed potatoes.

“No?” Tommy repeated looking at you with the look he gave when he felt you were lying. As a kid, you thought he had superpowers and could see in your mind.

“No” You shook your head grabbing your glass of water.

“John mentioned -”

“He didn't understand what I was asking. Don't need to be interested in a boy just because I don't want to show up in front of all those people wearing something embarrassing.” You said defensively, face flushing.

Tommy let out a hum and finished the last of his drink. Your last comment seemed to put him off even more.

You finished up dinner and then headed to a fancy-looking shop. The sign on the door said closed but you followed behind your dad as he pushed the door open.

The lady barely took notice of you as she shook your dad's hand, ensuring she would take care of anything he needs. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes as she touched his arm.

He turned to you “alright free rein of the place, go pick some out that you like. I’ll start on this side.”

You almost wanted to laugh as if it was a joke but your father moved passed the woman and started on the far wall. She looked over your body and began pointing out some to try on.

You thought about her suggestions and said you would try them to be polite. If you turned up looking like a frosted cupcake Esme would never let you hear the end of it.

You moved to the long dresses and found a nice dark red one. It was a shimmery fabric but it was dark enough that it wouldn't bring too much attention. You had a feeling that it was the right one, but with the lower neckline you felt it might be a fight to take it home. You decided it was worth it and asked the woman to take it to the dressing room for you.

You found another few that you liked well enough, all of them were black and made of various materials.

You met back up with your dad in the lounge and saw him sipping another glass of amber liquid, a cigarette in his hand. He met your gaze and held his hands up in mock surrender.

“Wasnt much help out in the field but it’s only because I have faith in your abilities.”

You gave him a smile, happy to see him in better spirits. You put the first one on and hated it immediately. It was much too tight and it would be impossible to dance in.

“Not very practical.” You waddled out and you watched him point back to the dressing room sternly. “Alrighty then,” you murmured feeling embarrassed.

You tried the cupcake one on next and fought to work up the courage to walk out in it. You struggled to get it through the doorway and your father actually laughed.

A proper healthy loud laugh that was contagious.

“I feel like Esme would take the piss for ages if I wore this.” You looked yourself over in the mirror.

“Not just Esme. Didn’t think it would be possible to make you look anything less than gorgeous. In that line of thinking it might not be so bad after all. Don’t want this mystery boy enjoying himself too much.”

“Dad!” You snapped before fighting back into the dressing room. “There is no boy.”

“If you say so.”

You wore one of the black ones next. You walked out feeling comfortable, you thought the black would go with any jewelry and looked classy.

You looked at your dad and his face twisted slightly.

“No black.” His tone of voice took you off guard.

“Why not? You’ll be wearing black?” you asked trying not to get worked up.

“No black.” He said firmly and you knew better than to challenge him when he sounded like that.

You went back into the room.

“Ah - that leaves one left.”

“Give it a go,” he called back.

You pulled on the red one and loved it instantly. It was grown up, hugging you in all the right spots without showing too much skin. The color made your blue eyes seem electric.

You liked it so much you didn't want to show it. What if he hated it as much as the black dress? Or thought it was stupid like the pink one.

You took a deep breath and called out. “Don’t be mean.” Then stepped out.

You looked at the mirror avoiding your father. It looked even better in the lighting. Eventually, the silence was too much.

You watched him take the dress in and thought you saw tears in his eyes. You wanted to run back and hide. Why was he being so weird? Even if there was a boy, it’s not uncommon at this age. Heck, most of Esme’s sisters were married by 16.

“That’s the one eh?” He finally said looking at you.

“Yeah. Think I look grown up, but not to - erm- showy”

“Grown up, is one way to put it.” He finished his drink and smiled at you. “I think you look lovely. Your mother has a necklace that will match with the color” He said softly. “-if you want to wear it.” He added hurriedly. For a long time, he thought her things might have been cursed, until one day he came home from a very long trip and said it was him that was cursed. You shivered remembering that night. You always avoided touching her things, her room untouched but not forgotten.

“I would really like that.” You said feeling emotional, you realized that the panic was about wanting to look nice, but some of it was anger that your mother was not there to help you. “Did she wear this color then?”

“Always red.” He nodded.

“Ah - well, I can see why.” You looked back in the mirror.

“Look - I know this sort of thing would have been more fun with Pol or Esme- and you probably miss your mum a lot these days. Lots of changes and whatnot.” He waved his hand uncomfortably. “But - well, I enjoyed this. I don’t mind being around for this stuff. I wouldn't have liked you more as a boy or anything like that” He cleared his throat.

Tears started to spill over something you hadn't even realized you were worried about.

“I love you.” You said. Felt strange standing on a platform saying it down to him as a saleswoman was probably judging them from the shadows somewhere.

“Love you too.”

On the ride home you both made jokes about different things, Arthur and John weren't very good at taking over for Pol and Esme and you enjoyed your dad’s commentary about trying to keep the place running.

When things quieted down you finally felt that you needed to end this boy nonsense.

“Dad?” You asked wondering how he kept the car straight while fumbling with getting a cigarette out and lighting it.

“Yeah?”

“There really isn't a boy, if there was John is the last person I would ask. One time he picked me up from school, years ago, and a boy, Tim Weatherby, had waved to me. He ran his car into the back of his parent's car three times before driving off.”

You watched your father let out another laugh. “Always classy.”

“I’d tell you first obviously. Esme would get too excited, and Pol would worry.”

“And what would I do then Eh?” He asked raising an eyebrow.

“Probably meet him and scare his pants off.” You answered honestly.

“That’s a good thing then?”

“Obviously. If he comes back it's because he really likes me.”

__________________________________

EXTRA - Tommy's POV

Watching her walk out in a black dress made the fleeting moments of humor leave him. He sort of saw her in the gown but his mind flashed back to that scared little girl all dressed in black.

“No black.” He said slightly out of control of the feelings biting into him.

“Why not? You’ll be wearing black?” He could see that you wanted to argue but he couldn't stand to see you in that dress any longer.

“No black.” He said firmly and you looked a bit deflated before retreating back to the dressing room. His mind pulled him back to that day. You attached firmly to his side, dressed in all black. The way you tried so hard to behave, tucking your face into his neck to cry as they lit the vardo on fire. How you even tried to hit Polly when she tried to take you from him. How you would panic if he was out of your sight for more than a few minutes.

No black. He ran his fingers through his hair.

The next dress hurt nearly as bad. Tears he had not cried in years welled up in his eyes as he looked at you taking in your body in the mirror.

So much like your mother, the style of the dress, the color. You were going to be an adult in a blink of an eye. Only small traces of that little girl left in your features. Now there would be boys and time left with it being just the two of you would start to slip away.

He thought the dress was much too showy, you didn't understand that yet though. Considering you would be standing next to him the whole night he figured it would be alright. You could pair it with your mother's jewelry and he could get Pol to convince you to wear it with a shall or something.

Eventually, your eyes looked at him for approval and he felt guilty for snapping at you. There was a very evident look of self-consciousness on your features. He wished it came more naturally to him.

“That’s the one, eh?” He said and enjoyed the way your eyes lit up. He may not be the best dad, but he would try hard to spend the last time he had with you. Find things to do with you, before you became busy with the rest of the world.

#Tommy Shelby #Thomas shelby #Shelby daughter #Tommy shelby dad #Thomas Shelby dad #Tommy shleby reader daughter #peaky blinders #Pekay blinders imagine #Thomas Shelby & reader daughter #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby one shot #thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby fanfiction

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finntheehumaneater · 8 months

Text

An Ego Thing (Part 2/???)

HELLO. I had a mini panic attack at the amount of notes on the first part of this, and then blasted Noah Kahan while I wrote this part, so PLEASE EXCUSE AN ERRORS BECAUSE IF I READ OVER IT I’LL SECOND GUESS MYSELF AND NIT POST IT.

I named this “an ego thing” after the song by Lizzie McAlpine because I love that song and I thought it fit (not really but still. I love that song so much. Music is important to me.)

a lot of you guys liked and reblogged, so let me know if you want me to tag you in the next part in the comments :)

@strangersteddierthings

Enjoy :)

—

It would’ve been better if Steve had asked anyone else to give Eddie back his jacket. Anyone but Robin Buckley. Because she was furious.

“What the fuck is the wrong with you?” She snapped, shoved the coat at Eddie so hard that he stumbled backwards and almost tripped over his own feet, his now pressed against the side of his van.

He felt all too trapped under her glare, and he did not like it all. She crossed her arms and her eyes narrowed even further—if that was even possible—and her words had far too much force behind them.

“He told me that it was a bad idea to tell everyone, and I told him that it was fine! A-and look what you did! Now he’s upset, and you need to fucking apologize to him—preferably in person—before I—“

“Robin—“ He tried to cut in, tried to explain himself, but just like with Steve, he was met with more harsh words, more furious tone—except this was more livid and less hurt.

“No, Eddie fucking Munson, you shut the fuck up and listen.” She said quietly, which made him flinch at how soft her tone sounded—yet still stinging at the same time. “If you tell anyone about this, I will fucking—“

“Robin!”

He didn’t have the guts to yell at Steve like that, and it was worse doing it at Robin, but he had spent the past two days feeling horrible, and he was done feeling like that. He took a deep breath, trying to stop his hands from fidgeting with the sleeves of the coat that he was still holding, his boots slipping slightly in the thin layer of early-snow that had already fallen, despite it only being early December.

“I-I didn’t kiss Steve because I thought it would be funny, or because I was trying to be a dick, okay? I…I kissed him because—“ He cut himself off, not knowing what he wanted to say next. He didn’t exactly know what he felt about Steve, and maybe that’s why all he could do before was leave without explanation.

He didn’t just like Steve, it was more than that. But, then again, he wasn’t sure he was ready to call it love, either. But the only way he could get Robin to not melt him into the snow with her stare was to finish his sentence, and she looked even angrier than before, considering how he had snapped at her like that, so he had to say something—

“Because what?” She whispered, her arms dropping to her side, falling against her green patterned coat as she took a step back, and it made Eddie realize that he had been staring for far too long than he thought he had, and it was probably making her feel uncomfortable.

He cleared his throat and found his hands curling into fists in the soft fabric of his coat. “Because—because I wanted to.”

Gods, he was such a fucking idiot. Because he wanted to? Of course he wanted to, but that didn’t make the situation any clearer to Robin. He needed to just say it—

“A-and I wanted to, because…”

“Because…?” She prompted, her face softening into something more like confusion as she bent down slightly to meet his eyes, her head tilted.

“Because…I…like him…” Is what he settled for, even though that didn’t feel right.

“You like him?” She said, much louder than she had been speaking before, and it was all Eddie could do not to flinch away from her, which would have resulted in his head smacking into the side of the van, seeing as she still hadn’t moved far enough away for him to step forward a good amount. Still, his hands twitched closer to him, which she seemed to take notice of.

“Oh.” Was all she whispered, lowering the volume of her voice a considerable amount, for his sake.

“Yeah.” He whispered back, looking away again. “And I didn’t mean to make him upset, or to scare him—because I would never tell anyone, I swear—but…I just don’t know how to say it to him. And now he probably hates me—“

“He—He doesn’t. He doesn’t hate you. I mean—yeah, he’s upset, but he doesn’t hate you.” She muttered, sighing. “I should’ve known you liked him, because now that you’ve told me, you have been very obvious about your feelings in the past.”

“Shit—I have? Does—does he know already?” He hated the blatantly obvious panic that was crawling into his voice, clinging onto his words like smoke.

“No, no. As much as I love Steve, he’s pretty fucking stupid when it comes to realizing stuff like this. You’re good.”

“Fuck…thank God..” He breathed, sliding down the side of the van and sitting in the snow, not even really minding the wet feeling that was seeping into his jeans, because his legs were already kind of numb, anyways.

Robin sat down in front of him, tucking the bottom of her coat beneath her so that she wouldn’t get wet when the snow on the ground melted. “Are you going to tell him? Because I don’t think he'd be upset anymore if he knew…”

The way her voice trailed off let him know that she was withholding a very vital piece of information from him, and he did not like that. “Why? What am I missing?”

She rolled her eyes and mumbled under her breath, “God, you guys are perfect for each other.”

And if that didn’t only serve to make Eddie even more confused.

“What I mean,” She continued, using her hands more like she needed to visually explain it for him to understand. Like he was some kind of child. “Steve likes you back.”

And oh, God, did Eddie feel dizzy, his head snapping up to meet her gaze, eyes wide, eyebrows pressed together. “You’re joking.”

“I never joke.”

That was a lie. But she seemed serious about this.

“So, Edward…“

“Don’t call me that.”

“Are you going to tell him?”

Eddie sighed and pulled his knees to his chest. “I don’t know if I can…”

“Well, if you do, let me know how it goes.” She said, standing up and brushing off the back of her coat.

“You—You won’t tell him, right?” Eddie said quietly, not liking how he had to look up at her, now.

“Of course not.” She said, holding out her hand to help him up, and he reluctantly took it, her skin cold and clammy from the gradually dropping temperature outside. This really was an early winter.

“Right…thanks, Buckley.” He dropped her hand as soon as he was standing up and stepped back, just wanting some time alone to process this information. Maybe a nice drive around the town with some music playing so that he could just think. “Did you walk here?”

“No, dumbass, I drove. Yes, I walked, what the fuck do you think?” She rolled her eyes again. Eddie really hated when she did that. “I’ll see you around okay? And I’m still pissed at you for running off on Steve like that. He was really upset when he called me.”

“Yeah, yeah…sorry…” He muttered—and he would’ve offered to drive her home, but he really just wanted to be alone. Just him and his music. “I’ll see you around?”

“Yeah, of course. Let me know how it goes—actually, scratch that, Steve will probably immediately call me afterwards, but—I still want your side of things!” She called, starting to walk down the road again, somehow not slipping in the ice that had formed in patches on the road, since the “snowplow” (some random ass guy with a scraper attached to the front of his pickup-truck) hadn’t bothered to spread the road-salt out evenly.

He waved goodbye and then leaned his forehead against the side of the van, giving Robin a few minutes to walk away before he got in and fumbled with a Cassette tape, before shoving it in the slot above the radio dials.

Now he just needed to figure out how to tell Steve…

#Again sorry if this is bad #I hate my writing #Just #Yeah #sorry #and sorry for any spelling mistakes/grammar errors #Sorry :(#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steddie fanfic

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fandoms--fluff · 8 months

Note

Helloooo Ms fluff (can I call you that? If not its okay) ok so I got another, fluff and maybe smut. Reader and Hope are dating and have been for a while like a couple years. Like the last request, reader is the tough and independent type that doesn't show vulnerability or anything like that. Anywho, one night they're in bed, reader is asleep and Hope is reading or something when reader starts sleep talking. Reader is muttering and mumbling about how much she loves Hope and about how much she wants to marry Hope etc. The next night Hope brings up what the reader said and it turns to soft smut.

Bottom reader if possible?

Again I apologize if this is too detailed. And as for the previous request, it was amazing, gorgeous and just 🤌🏽

Dreams to Become

Female witch reader x Hope Mikaelson

Warnings: swearing idk?

A/n: I don't mind you calling me that! And thank you, I love to receive feedback<3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Intrigued by her book she's reading, Hope doesn't hear you the first time, calling her name quietly. She looks over the second time hearing you mumble something along the lines of 'love Hope'.

She watches as your facial expression calm while mumbling, unaware of everything that's happening while you're fast asleep. Smiling softly, she slowly wraps her right arm around the back of your neck, elevating your head slightly further onto her chest as she gives you a cuddle.

The next thing you say makes Hope take a double take, 'wanna marry you one day Hope Mikaelson', you say, half being muffled by being nuzzled into her chest.

Hope pauses. She knows you're apparently talking to dream her if she has to guess, but it still sends a wave of warmth through her.

Her smile grows, and she puts her book down on the nightstand and turns the lamp off. She quickly falls asleep, the thought of what you were saying replaying in her mind.

The next day goes by smoothly, you have no recollection of what you had said last night. Hope knew not to pry and ask you any questions, instead waiting for the night when everything is calm and there are no prying ears (aka Lizzie).

Throughout the day, Hope has had to stop you from punching both Dr. Saltzman and Kaleb. Kaleb because he wouldn't stop making an annoying humming sound all during archeological history, and you were sitting right next to him, having enough. Dr. Saltman, she doesn't know why because you'll do anything to hurt him physically or mentally any time and any day without any reasoning for it except, 'I hate him!'.

Other than those two very close calls to broken noses, it was a normal as-it-can-be day.

She turns to look at where you're leaning against the headrest, reading, beside her. Out the window, pitch black except for the shining half-moon displayed.

"What's on your mind, babe?" You ask, feeling her gaze on you.

"I just wanted to tell you something that happened last night, not that it's bad, unless you think it's bad and you don't want to talk about it And instead never have me bring it up again, because-" She starts rambling before she knows it.

You put the book to the side and take hold of her moving hands, cutting her off, "Hey, hey, hey, deep breaths. In and out...there you go. You can ask me or tell me anything, alright?" You softly say. This tone of your voice is strictly used for her, and only her.

"Mhm," She nods and takes deep breaths.

"Last night when you were asleep you maybe kinda were talking about how much you love me and that you wanted to...wanted to marry me" Hope mumbles the last part.

Your eyebrows raise for a second before dropping. You place your hands on her cheeks and place a long kiss on her lips. When you pull away, her eyes are soft.

"And I mean all of it" you say in a hushed voice.

Hope's lips upturn into a smile before kissing you passionately. She slowly climbs on top of you, straddling your laid down frame.

As you guys keep kissing, you slip your hands under her shirt, pulling it up. She pulls away from you for a second, slipping her shirt off herself.

You guys rid all your clothing. She starts kissing down your neck. Sucking love bites that heal a few seconds later. She trails her kissing down to your chest. As she brings one of your nipples into her mouth, you bring your right hand down to her pussy.

You start rubbing your thumb in circles on her clit, making her moan around your erect bud.

She trails her fingers up your thigh with one hand. When they reach your heat, she slowly inserts one of her fingers in you. You let out a stream of moans as she slowly starts inserting two more fingers.

Soon, while your thumb is working up her clit, her fingers are pumping in and out of you. She straddles your right thigh, rubbing her pussy against it as you pick up the pace on your thumb, feeling your own climax nearing.

Hope throws her head back, "Good girl" she says, bringing her left hand up to your breasts and starts pinching your nipples, getting them erect.

You whimper, at the pain and pleasure.

"I- I'm gonna cum" you squeeze your eyes shut, the sensation starting up in your pussy.

"Me too, cum with me, baby. 5...4...3..2..1" she counts down.

At the same time, you both let out loud moans, your releases lasting a bit of time. "Oh god," You whimper, forgetting for a second how good this feeling is.

After her high, Hope carefully pulls her fingers out of you, and lays down next to you. She brings you into her arms, placing light kisses all over your face. You smile at the werewitch.

"You were very good" She whispers against your ear. You smirk and wink at her, going back into your regular personality.

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ellena-asg · 2 months

Text

I'm thinking about that moment in Tortuga where James says to Joshamee "So, do I make your crew or not? You haven't said where you're going. SOMEWHERE NICE?!". Yeah, I know he is irritated, bitter, sarcastic, unhappy and 100% a mess after losing his job and everything he had. But...

He is also drunk. Very drunk. And very... alone. What if alcohol makes him more open? What if James' question is, yes, bitter but... also sincere? What if the bitterness is in that moment caused by the bigger pain? What if frustration is caused by jealousy and loneliness?

Yes, I think that James may be jealous (but not in negative way) and damn lonely. Just look at his life portrayed in both: The Curse of the Black Pearl and Sins of the father (cause this book adds so much to James' bio).

His father was like "Pirates are the worst and you have to be anti pirate. If you are anti pirate then you are a cool kid". His society is like "We are noble, we are right, we have money, we serve the king, we obey the rules, we are cool". So James serves and obeys, he (unlike Lizzie) lets society to completely devour him, he has his career and place amongst the people but... not really.

Father abused and didn't really care about him. People respect him mostly as an officer and "fine gentleman". We see no friends around him. Gillette, Groves? Their relationship with James is shown as rather professional. Lizzie? At the beginning of the first movie they don't have any bond with each other. There is mutual respect and kindness but there's no friendship yet. Papa Swann? He is kind to James, sure. But James seems to still feel alone. He looks terribly lonely (shout out to amazing Jack Davenport). In so many scenes we see him standing in Dramatic Pose and looking at other people with these Sad Sad Eyes.

We see him working and working and working. Serving and obeying. Being many people's dog. Still feeling like "not enough" to some of them. Even his love for the sea (and him being a sailor) is somewhere in the background.

And then there is his proposal. He sees that Lizzie is very nervous but instead of "she doesn't like me in romantic way" he seems to have some hope that she will say yes and that he will finally have someone to love (and who will love him back - maybe). But soon he loses that hope. Lizzie falls, he meets Jack again, Will pops up too, pirates now are everywhere...

And what do James' eyes see? Jack isn't like those pirates from Norrington Sr.'s horror tales. Jack isn't evil. Jack has good manners. Jack is clever. Jack has his charm - and it works even on anti pirate people! (Groves and his "Best pirate I have ever seen OMG", Murtogg and Mullroy and their "Why won't we listen to Captain's advice and..."). Oh, for sure he has it. Joshamee Gibbs, a decent person and once a Navy's man joined his crew! And mr Gibbs seems to be happy with his new life. William Turner, the biggest cinnamon roll in the town - he met Sparrow and five minutes later they're best friends forever! And they have fun together. They have adventures together. They do friendly things for each other (Will defends Jack, he is ready to die for and with him!!!). Elizabeth Swann, the sweetest and wisest girl James has ever met, she... she is Jack's friend too! And she loves Will (a pirate!), she's going to marry Will! She is amongst pirates. She seems to be safe and happy with them. Papa Swann, even Papa Swann is now like "Err... I love Lizzie and Lizzie loves Will so I should love Will too, I guess. By the way, James, you can try to hunt Jack Sparrow and his pirates but Lizzie won't be happy, just saying".

Jack, Joshamee and their crew, Lizzie, Will... They all have now what James never had and what he still secretly wants (oh, I bet!). They have each other. They have friendship. They have love. They go where they want and do what their hearts want. They have freedom.

They are like found family having adventures, seeing places and sometimes being heroes to other people (being heroes without being someone's dogs). Being there for each other. Even when they lose something, they still have each other. They are brave in a way James can't be (oh, not yet). Strong, full of hope and so free. Always so free. Always so ready to fight.

They have it all. James at the end of COTBP has only his job and, still, his bitterness for pirates (so as always, nothing nice). James at the beginning of DMC has nothing. He lost ships, he lost career, he lost home and he's alone.

James' father and his society always were like "Pirates are outsiders, you are with us so you're a cool kid". But what if... when James looks at Lizzie, Will, Jack & Co, he thinks "No! THEY are cool kids and I feel like an outsider"? What if such thought hits him hard when he sees Jack's crew in that tavern? When he sees them again, after all what happened to him (and because of them). He sees them and they are like always: together, okay with their life no matter what, so damn strong and prepared for the future. They lose - they try again - they win. He always loses. He's always alone. What if that damn hurricane was a sign?

What if, when he sees them doing their things and when he's so alone and lost and so drunk... what if something inside him finally breaks?

And what if he joins them not only because of Lizzie wanting to help him and finally being his friend but first and foremost because he finally can do what he wants? He's free now (from his duties, from his father's ghost, from his society). He doesn't have to hunt pirates. Maybe he doesn't have to be so salty... He's lost. And he wants to belong. What if he can belong to their pirate pack? Oh, alcohol makes him very open.

So, do I make your crew or not? You haven't said where you're going. Somewhere nice?!

Somewhere nice would be great. Right, Jamie? You crave for nice things in your life. Being part of the pack would be nice, right?

James: Do I belong or NOT?! 😭

(but oh, soon he is sober and he looks like an outsider again, he watches Lizzie interacting with her pirates and looks like "How do they do all that friendship stuff? And... sea turtles? What sea turtles?! What are they talking about? They're so... I can't. I don't belong, I'm afraid. I'd better go back to previous life and..." 😢)

#pirates of the caribbean #dead man's chest #james norrington

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tmntxthings · 10 months

Text

∑一 Gasoline・゜・。

author’s note: so I started this months ago and came back today and somehow finished it? it’s now 4 am and idk what I’ve written but we posting it babyyyyyyy

song: reckless driving by lizzy mcalpine, ben kessler

warnings: cursing, narcissism, over-dramatics, cringe, sarcasm, flirting, confessions, unedited

—————————————————————————

Okay, I’ll admit. I’m not the best when it comes to..following the rules? Heeding caution? Listening to anyone??? Yeah not the greatest in that department.

But! I’m practically flying high in all others. Better brother, better turtle, cooler weapon, and not to mention handsome as fuuuck. So handsome in fact, I know I’ve snagged your attention. Heh. Call it what you will, intuition or gut-feeling, I know I’ve been occupying your mind.

But the thing is, you won’t admit it. No matter how much I prod, tease, or blatantly ask. It’s always “Leo, no.” “Leo, stop!” “Leo, shut up!!” And never “Yes, I think about you endlessly Leo, you’re right, and super handsome, be my one and only turtle”

…

Yeah…

It’s never ever that. And maybe that’s the reason why I can’t let this go. Because I know I’m right. If I wasn’t why would you keep coming around? Why would you spare glances my way? Why would you wear blue? It was all so infuriating to see these little details only to be denied again and again.

Raph says I’m getting a little obsessed. Donnie doesn’t give two fucks. And Mikey says something even worse, that I’m in love. Barf. Gross. Me? Love? Hell no. I collect admirers. I flirt with everyone. Unabashedly. Why would I fall in love with someone who is so clearly in denial that they are in love with me??? All I’m doing is getting them to admit the truth, and then they’ll be another tally mark. Another addition to the ever growing list of admirers I have.

It comes with the title of being the Face Man and all of that. Perks of being me I guess!

And so I was up to my usual antics.

“Keys Y/n, keys babe!” You scoffed pushing my hands away. “Keep your grabby mitts away, there’s no way in hell I’m letting you drive.”

“I curbed one time Y/n. Once! Give a turtle some slack here!!” I’m practically begging at this point. Because I have a plan. A genius plan to get you to finally admit the truth. It’s going to be epic.

“I think you’re also forgetting the three times you purposely ran into trash cans. You almost backed into another vehicle. And don’t get me started on how many times you accidentally forgot the keys in the car!”

…Okay so maybe there are a few more reasons as to why I shouldn’t be driving. But no matter! I’m a master manipulator. I can sway those around me like a pro. Plus since ya have feelings for me, I’m sure you actually really do just wanna hand over those keys. You’re just like playing a little hard to get is all.

“Whaaaa?? Are you sure that wasn’t Angelo? Pretty sure that was totally him and not me.” A big cheesy smile lights up my face trying to turn that frown of yours upside down. “Plus in any case I’ve got super rad portal powers to snab the forgotten keys!”

“Leo. No.”

And the actual begging and groaning and bemoaning ensues. I don’t throw temper tantrums that often. Only when necessary. After many ‘pleases’ and promises to drive extra careful. I finally get my long awaited—

“Leo, I said noooooooooo!”

A hard flick resonates against the space right above the middle of my eyes. Dramatically I flinch backwards crying out in faux pain. My hands going up, one covering the space that has just been so grievously wounded. “Oh c’mon that didn’t hurt…”

“Did it?”

Peeking through my three fingers I see the wisps of concern on your features and it’s at this moment where my all-of-the-sudden-plan enacts. As you draw closer out of worry it’s just too easy to create a small portal with my other hand that is behind my back. Don’t ask how the dagger got in my palm. Sometimes being a ninja just has its perks.

And just like that the keys to your car are securely in my hand and I bolt before you can realize you’ve been…hand-pocketed? Pick-pocketed? Whatever the case!

As I gloat from the driver’s side window, with the locks safely on so you couldn’t just rip open the door and strangle me like you were threatening to do right now. I make a show of raising the volume in your car and celebrating more with a little dance in the drivers seat. It’s not until you shake your head and the flames extinguish from your eyes do I dare to unlock the passenger door for you to get in.

You do slam the door close though. “Dramatic much?”

I can’t help but tease. I love winning. I love rubbing it in everyone’s face. And it makes my bones sing to see you get so riled up all over little ol’ me. You glower, somehow holding your tongue, perhaps giving me the silent treatment as you take over the music.

Driver gets veto power though. So I skip a bunch of songs you choose until I feel the flames start to rise again and I worry we (or rather I) may never even make it out of your driveway before I turn into roasted turtle. And that can’t be tasty.

So I let this particular song play. Humming along since I don’t know the words as I start to pull out and drive on the road. You stay silent for the most part and that just won’t do so I may or may not get a little too close to a curb for comfort on your side of the vehicle.

“God damnit Leo if you curb!!” You hiss as you clutch the handle on the car door. “Whoopsie!” I laugh getting back to the middle of the lane easily enough. “Where did you want to go so badly anyways?” You grump. But at least you’re talking now! “It’s a surprise!” I sing-song.

Now initially, my plan to force your admission of feelings was to continue to drive really recklessly and maybe almost die in a car crash or something like in the movies. And while you think I’m about to die you just have to tell me that you are helplessly in love and like magic. Confession secured.

But now thinking about it more seriously there are plenty of unknown factors like, what if I do actually kill myself in the process. Or ya know, you get hurt? Or I just wreck the car and we both are totally fine?! I don’t see myself surviving much longer after that if that ends up being the case. So I have nothing. Zilch. Nada. No back up plan was really made.

So I just drive.

And as previously mentioned, I’m not the best driver…

So you are on edge the entire time and constantly telling me to “Watch out!” “Don’t curb!” “Don’t hit that dude crossing the street!” “Red means stop!” “Yellow means slooow!”

Thankfully I know what green means. Aka turtle. Aka go ninja go ninja go. I’m proud of that one. Anywho, the drive winds up and down the backstreets of New York until even I don’t know where the fuck we are.

I pull over, parallel parking. Miraculously it’s one of the few tricks I can do with a car and you breath out a very unnecessary sigh of relief. “So this is the surprise?” You are looking around the low rise buildings with slight curiosity but more confusion than anything.

Nothing here is really special. No shops. No bright sparkly lights. It’s actually pretty grim because a few of the streetlights are out making the dark night even darker. It’s probably the least romantic place in the world. Definitely holds no sentimental value for an awe-inspiring confession.

My head hits the steering wheel as I close my eyes and say “Yup!” As bright and false as possible. I feel like a jerk and even worse than that a failure. I’m greeted with silence and I don’t open my eyes to check your face. I’m sure it’s turning into disappointment right now.

“Leo, everything okay?”

My head turns slightly, if only because your voice sounds a little different. I mean you usually are quite serious, but it’s also one filled with… care? “Just thinking.” And that is not a lie, just a very vague statement.

“Wanna talk about it?”

I mull it over. What am I even thinking? Driving around in the middle of the night. Being chaotic. Being a nuisance. Being with you. Dragging you along. Trying to get you to say something you’ll never say in a million years. And turtles sadly don’t live that long.

“Y/n, do you like me?”

I don’t dare take my eyes off of you now. Truthfully I feel like spewing out nonsense to cover up my mistake. I just had to open my big fat mouth. To actually say shit I actually mean. Or in this case something I really want to know. Your eyes widen ever so slightly, and you tilt your head as if you hadn’t even considered that a possibility. Liking me.

I’m instantly filling up the silence. “Like better than Mikey right? Pretty sure I don’t have to sweat over Donnie. And Raph may be second place but I’m definitely number one right?”

This way it’s easy. This way it’s safe. This way no one gets hurt. This way I don’t get hurt. This way I can play it off.

“I do like you.”

My thoughts empty and I straighten up. Swallowing back the spit that’s suddenly filling up my entire mouth. “Right duh, of course you do. Everyone does!” I laugh, smiling big as if nothing you just said affected me. Like I totally won’t be thinking about this even later tonight back at the lair. Overthinking it. Surely you meant it as a friend… but a turtle can hope?

“Even though you are so annoying.” You tack on, but your smile is too much. It’s genuine. It’s not plastered on like mine. It doesn’t hide anything.

Oh shit.

I just continue on, blabbering complete and utter nonsense at this point. Because part of me can’t believe it. That you really said it. That you do like me. That this surely isn’t possible, that you’re about to laugh and say that this was all some funny joke.

“Do you like me?”

And where there was nonstop chatter, it turns to silence. I avoid your stare now. In fact I turn my whole face away because I can feel my red marks heating up. Which is never a good sign. Blushing will only end in embarrassment. More than I can handle.

“Whaaaat? Me? Like you?”

I leave it open ended. To be inferred that I couldn’t possibly. But I think I just continue shooting or maybe slicing myself in the foot. Over and over and over again. Because in the window I can see you’re still looking my way. And your lips are pursed together in a small know-it-all smile. I whip my head back around, forgetting all about the embarrassing heat that covers my face.

“Y-yeah. I do.”

And then you lean forward.

Time slows.

And I feel your lips on mine.

And my eyes are so wide. I don’t know what to do but just stare. I don’t move. I don’t breath. Your eyes are closed and your lips are soft if only a little chapped. You pull away slightly, and I can feel your breath fan over my face.

“Good.” Is all you say. And I nod like a dumb pile of rocks is all I have for brains. “Now how about I drive?” Again I’m nodding.

The only thing that breaks the trance is the warning beep from your display signaling that I’ve just wasted all of the gas left in your tank.

…

Whoops!

—————————————————————————

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life-winners-liveblog · 3 months

Text

Watching Last Life- session 8

Part 2

Grian: You said you weren't going to deal with your Cleos ptsd and you ended up dealing with ours huh.

Scott: Yeah ... I did.

Grian: Scott are you ok?

Scott: Oh I was just talking about this with our "friends"...

~~~~~

Martyn: This Ren guy is really...weird.

Scott: Tell that to my Martyn.

Grian: Or mine.

Martyn: I don't get why so many mes like this guy. I don't see the appeal...

Grian: That's so strange but also fair.

Martyn: What?

Grian: You don't really know him. You never met him. The only things you know about him are from me and Scotts point of view and those don't really paint the full picture.

Martyn: I tought you didn't like your Ren? I was under the impression you two were enemies.

Grian: I hate the red King, yeah, he took a lot away from me but Ren wasn't always the red king...

...A long long time ago me and Ren and Impulse built a hippie commune, it was...nice.

Scott: Grian? Are you alright?

Grian: They had stolen my time machine, which is a very rude thing to do-

Martyn: Your WHAT? You had a time machine?!!??

Grian: -and Ren had this flying RV...it was a whole thing...

Martyn: But you hate the Red King...they are the same person...you know that right?

Grian: I do! I am not an idiot nor am I blind.

Martyn: I was just checking geez.

Grian: ...but I like to think we were truly friends before Third Life, back in Hermitcraft... And maybe It's exceptionally stupid but I like to separate the Ren I knew from the Red King... I guess just want to keep those memories uncorrupted.

Martyn: It is a bit stupid-

Scott: Ignore him... it isn't stupid at all, I too was pit against my fellow emperors, against Jimmy and Joel and Lizzie...

Grian: I don't know whats come over me, I didn't mean to bring the mood down

Pearl: It's uh fine mate. I never seen you this nostalgic about someone who isn't Scar or Jimmy.

~~~~~

Scar: Oh well...

Pearl: ... Last Life Martyn is twerking now? That's... happening...

Scott: I didn't even remember this until now...

Martyn: ... *grumbles*

Scott: ...

Grian: ...

Pearl: Augh the mood is all like ruined now... It's not right.

Scott: I think we should stop here... I doesn't make much sense to continue right now.

Grian: I'm going to do something now... yeah...

Scar: ... I'll go after him.

Scott: Please do.

First

#trafficblr #traffic series #scott smajor #grian #pearlescentmoon #goodtimeswithscar #martyn inthelittlewood #liveblog #last life

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bluginkgo · 4 months

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Alright, people help me out. I think I'm losing my mind with how ridiculously closely I'm looking at this. Cause I'm probably scrutinizing this too much, and it's simply a design choice.

But what is up with the diamond/triangle cores that all drones have?

Ramble and spoiler warning I guess

Every worker drone has their WD picture on their core. As seen on multiple occasions where it's peeking through clothes and on dead bodies in Doll's apartment.

Granted, we don't see everyone's cores peeking through. Braiden, for example, is wearing a whole suit. So is Khan, who wears an extra shirt and a jacket over. But the thing I'm looking too closely at is Uzi.

I love her design, it's probably the most fun to draw honestly. But it infuriates me on this one occasion. The shirt/top she wears under her jacket is just high enough to hide her core. In the concept art Liam gave us though, her shirt is sagging much lower and exposing the diamond core and still not showing the usual WD symbol. But then again, the rest of his concept art does lack some of the usual things we see in the show.

Like here, Lizzy is missing her core. (But my god, do I love his style. It would have been awesome to see Murder Drones as 2D show.)

Back to my ramble, though, what infuriates me about Uzi's design is that it's very teasing. Or to me at least, who looks at tiny details and says "Hmm is this a clue?" When 90% of the time it isn't. The design teases my mind to think that something is up with her core. From the amount of the core that's showing, we ought to see maybe like the top part of the hat from the WD symbol showing, like with some of Uzi's classmates. But it doesn't? So of course my mind goes to, could have the Absolute Solver done something that affected her core?

Very unlikely and I'm just looking too deep into this. Why? Well, Doll, that's why!

Doll has been using the Absolute Solver way longer than Uzi. And her core is still the usual WD symbol. Not to mention, both Yeva and Nori still had the WD cores present after the core collapsed.

But what makes me still rather suspicious is the drones that were in Cabin Fever labs, have a very specific outfit. A tattered dress, with the v cut suuuper low. This cut exposes the core symbol, and makes me suspicious if the Absolute Solver can in fact affect the cores. The humans that were in charge of the Cabin Fever labs needed to watch and examine every part of the drones that were infected with the solver string, so that might easily explain the design choice for that.

I don't know, what do you guys think. ^_^

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theminecraftbee · 2 months

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okay, so. let me be a bit clearer about why a lot of the stuff people have been suggesting i should do with lizzie in the joel persona au bothers me:

so like, it's not a great feeling to have a bunch of people are going "you should put lizzie in your au to be joel's dedicated love interest."

it's a problem with lizzie characterization in this fandom in general: SO OFTEN she is reduced to just being joel's wife or joel's dedicated love interest. and man, i like jizzie as much as the next guy, and maybe it's not my space to talk as someone who is much more of a joel main than a lizzie main, but it feels Bad. it feels Bad that very frequently the ONLY reason lizzie is in an au or a fic or something is because joel is there. because people see her as automatically coming with joel as a pair instead of like... as her own person to be involved in something by her own merits or not.

she has other traits! she does her own things! she doesn't just need to be here as joel's Cool Friend or joel's dedicated love interest! and she doesn't need to be here automatically because joel is, as though that's a requirement, either, because that starts to boil down to the same sort of "you see her as an extension of him" feeling. and i'm sure many people are just suggesting her to me because they really like her, and NOT because of this, but the number of un-posted "she should be a childhood friend of joel's" "what if she was the lovers" "what if she were this mysterious person joel has a crush on" "she should be his velvet room attendant"... you see how all of those are putting her in a role that is Inherently More About Joel? and i GET why you want her as a cameo and would be sad if she weren't, but like...

man. it just feels bad how often her ONLY character trait seems to be "joel has a crush on her", and i didn't want to contribute to that.

anyway i have come up with her cameo role that i think is funny but i am putting my foot down on "and her other important trait is of course that joel has a crush on her" because i just. this bothers me A LOT. and i know i'm one to talk given that i don't write her that often and given that, as i said, i like jizzie, but like, man. she's her own guy, guys. she's not solely part of a pair.

that's all i guess.

#discourse #misogyny #sigh. for blocklist.#man i feel bad making this post but i think i haven't been clear enough about this so here i am.#please stop sending me lizzie suggestions. especially ones inherently linked to joel in some way.#i don't want to say people are doing a misogyny and many of you probably ARE just going 'but i want my favorite woman included'#but.#i don't know man.#i just have Feelings about this one.

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elvenbeard · 4 months

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Kerry looked at the lack of new messages on his phone, not really impatient, not nervous, but something strange in-between... Full of anticipation, more like it. Right on the edge of where it was still exciting but also slowly turning into nerve-wracking agony.

It was almost 9 p.m., the music was blaring across the dancefloor the next room over, and even here, in this little hallway to the side, the laser show was still impressively bold. Private braindance cabins were lined up closely here, clients came and went, paid him little mind as they passed him by on their way in and back out of Lizzie’s Bar.

Not Kerry’s usual scene, admittedly. Not for lack of trying or interest, it was more this place in particular. The music, the crowd, the fashion and food… just awfully reminded him how fucking old he was. Usually, to make it through the night in a bar like this, he’d need a decent amount of booze, even better some candy, but currently that was still out of the question, as his date for the night hadn’t arrived yet… And damn, he was running late. Kerry wished he could say that was unusual. He hoped it was part of the plan, at least.

Or maybe he just had trouble finding him here… Kerry had decided to remove himself from the crowd a little, had noticed a few stares here and there. Not that he minded, but again, he was waiting still, and didn’t really want to mingle on his own, or worse, however unlikely it was in this place, spend the night giving autographs. He looked back on the screen, mindlessly scrolled through the last text messages…

“Hey handsome,” a voice purred next to him, pulled him back to reality. Had Kerry not instantly recognized it, he may have panicked, or just made up a blatant lie as to why he had to leave. Instead, he could finally slip his phone back in his pocket and looked up with a smile. A young man leaned against the wall right next to him, provocatively – he definitely fit in here better than Kerry did. Colorful hair and a cocky grin, striking amber eyes framed by smudgy dark eyeliner. Kerry only just managed to hold back the question where in his closet V had kept the neon-purple net-tanktop he wore, if he’d had it hidden in some box or corner. Knowing him though, he probably saw it in a store and had the idea for this mystery date-night before even buying it.

“You look bored. How come, in a place as interesting as this?” V, no, the mysterious stranger of course, asked. He lifted his hand to gently tug on Kerry’s jacket’s lapel. Kerry smiled.

“Hmm, guess I didn’t meet anyone that caught my interest yet,” he said, couldn’t resist reaching up to quickly brush his fingers along V’s arm, across his hand, squeeze his fingers just for a moment. He could see in V’s eyes that he was struggling to stay serious and cool, noticed the light flush of his cheeks. Kerry couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Well,” V said, pausing briefly, before looking Kerry in the eyes again, “Maybe I can be the one to make this night more interesting for you…”

Gently he took Kerry’s hand, and Kerry more than willingly followed as he led him to the dancefloor.

jasdökfhadfaf okay I haven't done something in this format for a while and it was really fun XD Sorry for the long post but yes!!

In my hc they often go on "mystery" dates like this, sometimes more elaborate scenarios like here with a secretive meeting in a location previously agreed upon. Sometimes it's just something simple as meeting for a coffee and pretending to be someone else or not knowing each other XD The tradition started at Caliente's when V was late and Kerry was (rightfully) mad, pretended he didn't know him and complained to him about how his boyfriend is never on time (because talking about difficult stuff like this "indirectly" with a stranger feels easier for some reason). Vince played along right away, also blaming the boyfriend for being really shitty and yeah XD It developed from there just into a fun thing to spice things up a bit now and then when normal life and appointments and all that stuff gets too overwhelming. A little escape from reality if you will (and simultaneously learning to appreciate reality again, too, because usually after a night out like that they're both exhausted and just happy to stay in and cuddle the next day xD).

IM VERY NORMAL ABOUT THEM AND DONT DAYDREAM ABOUT THIS A LOT AT ALL BTW öakhjsdfdasfadösfhasdfdsfa I'll see myself out xDD

#cyberpunk 2077 #kerry eurodyne x v #cyberpunk v #cyberpunk kerry #kerry eurodyne #vincent ezaki #male v cyberpunk #cyberpunk vp #cp2077 #cp2077 vp #virtual photography #cyberpunk fanfiction #my writing #my vp #otp: to bad decisions #I really love vince's cheeky lil smile in the first pic ;_;#I just öakhsdjföasfjashjdfasf -eats them both-

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