Tumgik
#the plants were very alive
nelkcats · 7 months
Text
Winter in Spring
Danny was not a spirit of the seasons, he didn't have any idea if those kinds of spirits existed out of movies, what he did know was that for some reason the flowers were behaving rather strangely in one particular dimension right at the beginning of spring. And although he certainly didn't want to affect the place he knew he had to investigate it.
From what it seemed: strange plants that glowed just like those born in the Infinite Realms were appearing in Gotham and coming to life on their own. At first he suspected Undergrowth but the Ancient was offended by the accusation and commented that he was too busy in his haunt to care about a random city. Which turned out to be true.
Then he thought that maybe it was fine: the bright flowers seemed harmless (although they were very very...alive?) and didn't hurt anyone. That was until a red-haired girl seemed to upset them and they started attacking everyone around them; unfortunately, because they were ghost flowers they could dodge attacks very easily and the "heroes" couldn't defend themselves.
So, with no other options Danny traveled to Gotham and well, to put it simply he became a fake winter spirit; what else was he supposed to do? He needed an alibi and to spread ice as quickly as possible. Telling Gothamites that winter was coming early because of him was the least of his problems.
What he didn't expect was that after turning the city into a wasteland of ice and snow (and saving them from the invasion of ghost flowers, you're welcome), some guys in bat suits would start following him around with questions. He also didn't expect one of them to stare at him and ask if he'd be back in winter, he wondered if faking his identity was a good idea.
1K notes · View notes
kavehater · 1 month
Text
Tumblr media
I support girls but NAH THIS IS REACHING “if you look carefully LIKE REALLY CAREFULLY 🤓☝️”
#the same people who would shriek like the witch of the north melting her skin off if I tell you haikaveh / kavetham isn’t implied because#if you actually look into our culture they’re being normal and not everyone having rivalry and caring about each other means they’re 💅#in fact Arabs are some of the worlds most hospitable people alhaitham letting kaveh live with him#is the most Arab thing I’ve ever seen#heck if kaveh was a stranger it wouldn’t be unusual for an Arab to let him in their house ☠️#goddamn#“if you look in the internet you can see how they’re implied!🤓☝️”#maybe if you had any respect for my culture or any desire to be educated when I’m handing this to you for free you wouldn’t be your mistake#your mums greatest mistake 🤗🤗🤗*#dora daily#if only ppl dedicated this level of detail to actual culture compared to pulling out their microscope at level 100x magnification lens to#observe robins spots under her eyes the world would be a better place 🙀#let me tell you btw this whole I hate you meh meh meh ( I’m so in love with you ) trope is the most whitest booktok millennial plant growing#basement dweller nonesense I have ever heard in my life don’t do that to my pookies ☹️#( the pookies in fact were 11 and 9 years older than her respectively )#guys my dad is the straightest man alive ( oh the trauma lowkey wish he wasn’t ) and he legit was putting his hand on his best friends lap#LMAOOO even I as a very logical person was like bro this is so zesty rn I am SO uncomfortable#anyways live laugh love boothill x Baizhu they’re the most canon things I’ve ever seen in my life#<- this is a joke btw it’s an ironic ship I saw on tiktok ☠️
27 notes · View notes
soapgraves · 1 month
Text
Tumblr media
off memory married boys.
(short hair cuz it was a chill day.)
26 notes · View notes
david-watts · 1 year
Text
I’m gonna kill someone!! I really fuckin am at this rate!!
3 notes · View notes
coffeeworldsasaki · 2 years
Text
I'm so depressed and furious that i even forgot to put my plants in the sun. That's how bad the situation is
2 notes · View notes
trashcanalienist · 2 years
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Rambo III (1988)
#this is from right after the russian attack on the mujahedeen camp#it's such a very important scene and i love that these movies take time to show the result of destruction and peoples' reactions to it#these aren't just action movies or war movies they are like. films. and i am deeply in love with them. i don't think there's a better way#to talk about these things from this perspective.#but what was i saying - oh yes#he and the mujahedeen and the russian defector yuri were barely able to destroy one helicopter. the other one retreated.#he was caught off guard because for one moment he thought he could think of lighter things. grim reminder that he can't let himself forget#for a second where he is and why. the destruction is made more extreme by just how little these people (soldiers and children and refugees)#have in the first place...clinging on like a desert plant. deep roots and tough exterior make for a strong rebel force...#but no plant can survive firebombing. or napalm for that matter. because that's the other half of this.#again he's reminded of everyone he lost. the last time he worked alongside soldiers he could trust was in vietnam with baker team#and they're all gone now. and these people who have offered to help him do so as much out of good will as out of pure desperation for some#way to survive and come out victorious...not for the sake of victory or the honor of independence but just to prevent the slaughter of#their own people.#i keep getting off track because of the plight of the mujahedeen and the afghan people at this time#john was barely able to prevent the russians from destroying the entire camp right there. he can't save everyone and he knows that. but it#still weighs on him. still haunts him. he knows that he's lucky to get out of combat alive himself. he knows that as important a role skill#plays it is still ultimately all up to luck.#he's tired. it never ends. dragged back into the same situation in another country. he'll risk his life for trautman without question#because it doesn't mean all that much to him. but he won't risk anyone else's if he can help it.#rambo iii (1988)#rambo iii#john rambo#sylvester stallone#rambo#it's a long road#i was so worried i'd run out of tags...#action
6 notes · View notes
blujayonthewing · 3 months
Text
adore our lovely tree-filled back yard but also want to garden, wailing and gnashing teeth etc
1 note · View note
quenthel · 3 months
Text
I feel like most online conversations abt veganism and being vegetarian or Abt primarily eating meat are going to be hamstring by the fact that vegans n vegetarians who aggressively argue online and the meat eaters who argue with them are usually kind of assholes AND incredibly judgemental and retort to moralizing. Like ok I do agree with that one post that at it's core the more popular critiques from vegans when it comes to the meat industry AND the more popular critiques of veganism relying on plant products made in horrible conditions on the periphery ARE capitalism critiques. But like imo you can't really build a coherent political ideology on eating habits bc those habits are wrapped in cultural norms, the structure of society and where said person is within the hierarchy of that structure AND personal preferences.
Like of you have the idea that ok all vegans and all meat eaters are within the same community you will have to include like... Theveganteacher or neonazi rappers who only eat raw meat lol. Like treating nutrition as a moral thing by itself is dangerous imo bc it WILL attract fascists lol
1 note · View note
scrivellc · 5 months
Text
Tumblr media
Planning on doing replies tomorrow. Tonight is for thinking about body horror AUs and Orin playing King Charlemagne in Pippin. Fair warning gonna babble about horror thoughts in the tags so uh...don't read those if you don't wanna hear my weird brain machinations.
0 notes
chuluoyi · 5 months
Note
soft gojo meeting his newborn hc, pleaaasee??
࿐ ࿔ 🕰️ 「 11:10 P.M 」
soft dad!gojo drove me to have another baby fever for the ntn time. you just have to put this idea in my head don’t you dear anon~
a part of gojo's love entries
Tumblr media
the thing was so tiny, precious and squishy. it fit right in his hands, so red and fragile, almost like a toy—
only it was not. it was a real, living baby. his son, partly made by his own flesh and blood—his to protect.
“hello to you, my little minion,” satoru whispered to his newborn, wonderstruck by the sight of this small but clearly alive being. his eyes glazed, his fingers delicately tracing the baby's face, body, and tiny feet. “i’m your dad, yeah?”
his own soft voice sounded foreign to him. but at this moment, as he was utterly mesmerized by the sight of little human that just came out of you, his beloved wife, he couldn’t care less.
he had always imagined how his brat would look like. he even joked with you about how he’d get his good looks—and heck, the gods did hear him and this baby in his arms was the most handsome baby he had ever seen, blessed with his white hair and softest skin, as well as the rosiest cheeks.
his only dismay was that he also inherited the bluest of eyes, the curse in his family line.
well, but that’s a problem for another day.
he settled his newborn into the hospital's nursery crib, and nudged his pudgy cheeks once again. not even half a day had passed since he was born, and gojo satoru had developed a severe cuteness aggression for his son. he swore he’d spoil him rotten, shower him love he never truly experienced from his own parents, and of course, keep him safe.
with his heart full, he left the baby as he slept, and went back to your room.
in the very same predicament as your baby, you were still fast asleep. you were visibly exhausted, your hair was a tangled mess, and there was a line of dried blood along your lips—caused by accidentally biting them too hard earlier, during your labor pains.
even in the state of disarray, satoru still thought you looked ethereal, too good for him.
he ran his fingers through your hair, smoothing them, and he regretted it when your face scrunched up and your eyes fluttered open. “…hmm? satoru?”
“hey, sweets. how are you feeling?”
“i still feel like being split into two… but yeah, i’ll manage.”
“shush, of course. you feel that way often, each time when i—”
“don’t,” you warned, glaring at him. “i just birthed your heir, gojo satoru. don’t even start.”
satoru burst into a laugh so hearty and he realized he truly loved this dynamics with you. and that he was grateful for you.
he wanted to thank you for all that you had done for him. for returning his feelings. for marrying him. for going through that pain to bring his son to the world—
and most of all, for still being here. for staying alive to live another day with him.
“i saw him just now. our baby is perfect.”
“really? i want to meet him too…”
“soon, sweetheart... when you’re a little better, i’ll take you to him.”
but he wasn’t the best with words. and so even if he were to pour his heart out, everything would be condensed into this one sentence.
you were excited at the prospect of meeting your baby, when suddenly satoru leaned in to plant a kiss on your forehead.
“i love you so damn much… you know?”
7K notes · View notes
frosteee-variation · 1 year
Note
grins. 🎭masks for cinis
🎭 MASKS - do they act differently around certain people? what's different between the way they act around friends, family, strangers, etc.?
AUGHGHH. EVIL. YOU’RE EVIL FOR ASKING ABOUT THIS /lh
Anyways I’ve been thinking about him so so so much recently. And ough. OUH. apologies this one is going to be a fair amount
I feel like before the whole zombie deal there was a more distinct difference between how he acted around people, but he’s always had a fair bit of consistency. He was pretty loud and boisterous around friends, methinks – he also probably made fun of them in a sort of lighthearted way, and probably he did the same around his sister Vindi while being a bit more composed. Throwing jabs at each other was sort of just their thing! Neither of them took it too seriously. It was the same way around strangers, but he tried to follow how they were interacting with him and mimic that when he was talking to them.
He was definitely really respectful around figures of authority, though. Older family members, city officials, other Sacares, people like that. He still made sure to keep an air of confidence about him, but kept it more subdued.
NOW though. With all the undead stuff and exile and whatnot, those lines have sort of? Blurred? He’s not as sociable as he once was, mostly for the sake of others, so he tends to treat almost everyone with a quiet and cool regard. He doesn’t talk as much, and tries to keep his words as straightforward as possible. Rarely, he might throw an off-handed joke or flippant comment in there if they’re commonfolk, though. It’s just kind of his nature. I think he misses it.
He’s a lot more wary of authority now, I think. Mostly because if he sees a town guard or a higher-ranking noble, they’re probably trying to find a way to kill him, yeah? Still respectful, no ill will towards them, but maybe a little less talkative. On the family side, I don’t think he’d even try to talk to them in the first place. He’d probably excuse himself and apologize before leaving, or say nothing at all.
but also if he somehow saw vindi again he would 100% just look down at her and silently do that “hand-measuring height” thing because he’s like a full foot taller than her after death and he’d know that she would hate it
1 note · View note
fangswbenefits · 10 months
Text
Intimacy
𓂅 𓄹 Summary: Lack of intimacy after childbirth can weigh a relationship down. Thankfully, Miguel always finds new ways to keep the spark alive.
𓂅 𓄹 Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x spider-woman!reader
18+. Lactation kink. Fangs. Implied breeding kink. A comprehensive study on intimacy with Miguel O’Hara.
“She’s finally sound asleep.”
Holding back a yawn as you entered the living room, you were promptly met with a very heavy-eyed Miguel O’Hara on the couch, enjoying the comforts of home.
“Thank you,” he said truthfully, straightening up lightly in his seat. “Come here.”
You paced towards him, lazily settling on his lap, both legs framing his as two big and warm hands sprawled across your back, pulling you into an embrace.
Instinctively, your eyes fluttered shut once cheek came to rest on his shoulder, taking in his body warmth and enjoying the steady heartbeat that drummed against your chest.
You figured you might just fall asleep and don’t fight against it. Taking care of a baby had been taking a toll on you both as of late, but it was to be expected.
Still, you missed moments like this. No talking, just feeling right at home in a silent embrace.
Miguel planted a few kisses to the back of your neck, but they were void of any sexual bearing. You knew what he meant with those. Absolute gratitude and devotion.
“Next time, I’ll put her to sleep,” he muttered under his breath.
“Hmm.”
His hands glided along your back, fingertips applying just enough pressure to raise goosebumps across your skin.
“I mean it.”
“You’re also tired,” you drawled out with a yawn, body slumping fully into him. “Work and all that…”
Another tender kiss. “But I have responsibilities here, too.”
“Why are you so stubborn?”
“You taught me how.”
Point taken.
Silent seconds ticked by and you shifted on his lap into a more comfortable position, ready to enter the valley of dreams.
“I miss you,” he said all of a sudden.
His hands settled on your arms to straighten you, a pair of red eyes encasing yours.
“I miss us.”
Miguel wasn’t a man to deliver empty words as filler, so you knew that he genuinely meant it, which had your heart to skip a beat.
His digital suit began to fragment and reced, exposing the skin underneath. Your placed your hands on his chest, feeling the hard muscles flex under your touch.
He was so handsome. Almost unfairly so.
“Let me kiss you,” he whispered.
You nodded, bringing your lips to meet his in a lazy kiss as you dragged your fingers along his hair, earning a moan of approval.
It was a slow and steady kiss. You were in no hurry and wanted to make the most of this rare opportunity.
One of his hands slid to grope your breast and you felt him groan against you lips, breaking contact.
His half-hooded eyes were now on your chest, and as you followed his line of sight, you realised what had caught his attention.
Your shirt was getting soaked with milk.
Damn.
Two round damp spots spread across the fabric that covered each nipple, and you felt instant embarrassment take over. “Sorry… wanted to pump before putting her to bed, but she—”
“Don’t ever apologise for this,” he silenced you at once.
You tried to slide off the couch to fix yourself, but he kept you in place with both hands gripping your waist, pushing you down on him.
“Stay.”
Oh?
“I’ll help.”
Oh.
“Miguel…”
Masterful fingers worked their way down the buttons of your nightgown to reveal your heaving breasts.
You knew that look on his face.
Hunger.
“So full,” he said more to himself, cupping both of them softly.
A few droplets coated both nipples and he brushed the pad of his thumbs along the sensitive skin, earning a jerk from you.
The tingling between your legs emerged in full force from just the sight of him staring at you like he could devour you whole.
He craned his neck just enough to capture one nipple with his lips before latching hungrily.
The overwhelming sensation was enough to have you clinging to his broad shoulders for support. You squeezed your eyes shut and gasped once you felt him sucking gently.
It didn’t take long for you to feel the growing pressure between your legs from his hardening cock.
“Be gentle,” you moaned, caressing his cheek that would rhythmically hollow as he downed your milk.
“Hmmm.”
Then your hand came to his neck and you gently gripped it, feeling his Adam’s apple bob with each gulp.
You stared adoringly at him, slowly grinding into his covered cock. A raw groan reverberated through his throat, and you could tear your eyes away from the sight of the warm liquid pooling in the corner of his mouth.
The latch was just perfect and felt too good.
You brought your hand to caress his face once more, brushing a few strands of his hair away.
“You’re so good…” you moaned.
His cock twitched at your praise, and you could feel the wetness damping his own underwear. Now he was the one leaking for you, his body full on auto-pilot as precum readied him for more.
A couple of droplets began to run down his chin, dripping and drenching his underwear.
“No fangs…”
You’d felt them grazing your skin lightly, but you couldn’t really blame Miguel. His fangs would emerge from either extreme anger or blinding pleasure. A roll from your hips with added pressure was enough to tear his lips from your nipple, head falling back and mouth parting with a raw moan.
He bared both sets of fangs as both hands gripped your waist. Your own mouth dropped open as haziness filled your vision, absolutely revelling in seeing your own milk dripping from his lips and down his muscular neck.
“Fuck,” he grunted, eyes squeezed shut.
You hurried to collect some of the beads of milk from his skin, but Miguel intercepted you midway, capturing you into a searing kiss. His tongue hurriedly slipped past your lips and you tasted sweetness.
Parting yourself from him, you focused on the grind of your hips and Miguel snapped open his crimson eyes, lust dilating his pupils.
“I’m not… I’m not…” he mumbled incoherently, too lost in his pleasure. “I’m not… lasting…”
You leaned in to whisper in his ear, “I’m surprised you lasted this long,” you whispered seductively, pressing a quick kiss to the pulse point on his neck. “So much stamina…”
Miguel was a sucker for praise and it was the easiest and fasted way to get him to crumble.
Your clit rubbed against his covered cock in a steady rhythm as more droplets of milk kept dripping from your nipples. Your eyes roamed along his chest that was glistening as beads of white liquid streamed down.
Suddenly, Miguel pulled you into him, your breasts now squeezed in between you two, more liquid pouring out.
He titled your head and immediately latched his lips against your neck, fangs nearly puncturing the flushed skin.
“You ride me so good,” he murmured hungrily against you.
A moan tangled in your throat and your hips surged to encourage his, ruthlessly intensifying the pleasure. Miguel picked up the speed again and you felt each burst of bliss at every thrust and desperate to feel the next.
Your orgasm was upon you faster than you had expected, the sense of urgency in his thrusts pushing you closer and closer to the edge.
“Miguel… Miguel…” you moaned, your panties completely drenched.
“Inside… please…”
Desperate fingers clawed at your underwear, sliding it to the side as the tip of his cock nudged at your entrance. He slid inside effortlessly, bottoming up in an instant, and after a moment he gave a harsh cry and shoved himself so deeply and tightly against you that you gasped, clenching hard around him.
Miguel buried his face in the crook of your neck in a failed attempt to muffle his groans.
He kept grinding and rocking against you with stifled grunts, spurting hotly inside.
Only the sounds of your harsh breathing followed, and you sank against him weakly as if drained of all energy.
A familiar waile filled the room, making you wince.
“Shit… were we too loud?” you asked, trying to ease your breathing.
Miguel was still buried deep inside you, beads of sweat rolling down his face. “I’ll go check on her.”
You could tell he reluctantly slid out, easing you on your back. The sudden emptiness made you clench involuntarily, and you felt some of his warm cum spilling
“Keep it in,” he said, pressing your legs together as he planted a kiss to your forehead.
Tumblr media
Masterlist
8K notes · View notes
lunod · 1 year
Text
I want to make out with god himself.
1 note · View note
gallusrostromegalus · 2 years
Text
Herschel Has Discovered Tool Use. Again.
In january of 2021, deep in the throes of pandemic psychosis, we acquired a Corgi Puppy.
I would like to go on the record that we did not get a Corgi because they're cute. We got a Corgi because they're criminally brilliant and enthusiastic working dogs that were bred to bully cattle, which is the exact temperment a dog living in a house with three ADHD adults should have. Herschel does commit a lot of crime, but he also does his appinted service-dog job of "make everyone wake up, eat meals and go to bed at a reasonable and consistent time" extremely well, as well as his bonus jobs of "Keep the squirrels the hell out of the garden" and "Yell every time the cat does something". I didn't actually ask him to do that last job but it has helped in the "teach the cat to stay the hell off the stove" area.
But even with having a whole pack of humans another dog, and a cat to manage, this pales in comparison to his genetic capacity to manage several hundred sheep or cattle across the fields of Wales, and thus, Herschel has decided on further intellectual pursuits to occupy himself, namely, speedrunning the early phases of human tool use and terraforming.
I realized he has the brains of an entire hunter-gatherer tribe shortly after he got fixed, and within 24 hours and still dpey from anesthesia, he'd figured out that his plastic cone could be used to monopolize the water bowl and his favorite chew toys, and within a week, had learned how to carry three toys at once while leaving his mouth open by tucking the toys behind his enormous ears and under his chin. He also figured out that he could wiggle the cone to rest against his shoulders, and started using it as a shovel by literally running the bottom edge into the ground. But that wasn't making holes effeicently enough, apparently, and I ended up watching him figure out how to rotate the cone around so the two pieces of overlapping plastic were under his chin, then use his chin and the stairs to the deck to pinch both ends into a much more efficient V-Shape that let him gouge huge strips of dirt up in seconds. The anthropologists and animal behaviorists in the audience may recognize this as Tool Creation, a behavior normally only seen in higher primates, crows, and some parrots. Once a hole of suitable length, depth and temperature had been achieved, he very carefully rolled the cone around so the digging side was over his head and the smooth side under his chin, and splooted into his hole to cool his little tummy and stitches off. It was at that point that I realized that I was going to have to teach him how to garden, or he was going to teach himself.
He no longer has the cone (He was beginning to experiment with it as a battering ram), but his morning ritual is now "Wake everyone up at 8AM by screaming, locate everyone in house and jam my nose up theirs to make sure they're alive, go outside and scream at the squirrels. Now that Yard is Secure, go get Fun Parent who has hopefully taken their meds by now, and supervise them while they rifle through the plants (this is apparently KEY to their mental health), eating any pest animals Fun Parent points out, chase squirrel AGAIN, go inside and get Breakfast cookie." and BY GOD if we deviate from it there will be much screaming and destruction. If I am not home, it has been reported that he walks round the garden beds and sniffs the plants in the order I usually check them in before he will agree to come in. He doesn't quite know what the deal with the melons is, just that they need to be checked.
But we're out of the labor-intensive parts of gardening and now into Harvesting Season, and this is a bit boring except when I give him snap peas right off the vine, and he has decided to work on the complex physics problem that is Doorknobs.
And last week, he had a breakthrough.
Sometime in 2020, my mom sort-of taught her horrible crime herding dog Arwen how to open the back door so she could let herself out as she pleased during the day and stop interrupting Mom's Zoom calls. Arwen is a Kelpie, which means she's about 60lbs with full-length legs and horrible monkey paws that are one joint away from being hands, so when Arwen wants to open the back door, she sits up, leans on the door for purchase/to push it, and uses her terrible crime hands to *push* on the knob until it turns. She can pull the knob open by pawing and catching it on her toes, but she's 11-13 years old now and has mild arthritis, so she prefers to catch it on her central pad instead. She taught Charlie, the other equally brilliant but less criminally inclined dog, to do this but he doesn't like to go outside alone, so he rarely does this.
Herschel, ever the observant student, immediately tried copying them, but even though he is actually tall enough to reach the knob, his toes are just too stubby to get a decent grip on the knob, pushing or pulling, and the first few times, gave up and sat down to scream until one of the fullsize dogs or humans came to open the door for him.
Last week, we were up at my parent's again, and I watched him hunt around the living room until he found his slightly-sticky orange rubber ball (It's clean, it's just a kind of rubber that's always a bit tacky), carry it across the house, stand up on his hind legs at the back door, put the rubber ball on top of the gap between the knob and the wall, and then push down on the ball, which caught the doorknob and turned it for him, thus opening the door. He let himself out, had a merry time yelling at the squirrels, came back in, stopped a few feet inside the door, went back out, grabbed his ball, and brought it back into his kennel, a place he can leave toys if he doesn't want the other dogs playing with them.
This means he somehow worked out how doorknobs work, how fucking levers work, and that his orange rubber ball specifically was the one that would work (none of his other toys are the correct size/texture), that he'd need that ball specifically to open the door again, and yesterday he did the same trick with the bedroom door, so he knows that the rubber ball/skeleton key can be used on all doorknobs, not just that one.
I wonder if I can teach him to sweep.
___
If you want to fund Herschel's research into Tool Use and/or get me therapy for the ensuing chaos, please feel free to donate to my Ko-Fi, or get further Dog Content by subscribing to my Patreon.
24K notes · View notes
penny00dreadful · 11 months
Text
So does anyone remember that post that was like "Robin and Eddie meet when she does that thing that's like 'hello, please pretend you know me so I can get away from this person' then Steddie happens?" Because I do. I cannot for the life of me find it. If anyone knows the post I'm talking about please let me know so I can link it, this is very much not my idea, it's that persons idea but the brain worms got me so here we are. 🤷‍♀️
We found it! It's this post by @wynnyfryd Thank you Anon! Obviously I went in a different direction with it but this post was 100% my inspiration so thank you for helping me find it!
AO3 link for those asking! 🖤
Robin should be royally pissed off with herself right now. She would be if she wasn’t so damn scared.
That guy was still trailing behind her, no matter the twists and turns she’d taken down different streets trying to lose him and the only thing she’d gained from it was to get totally and completely lost. It could be something completely innocent, the guy might be coincidentally going in the same direction as her but she wasn’t willing to give him the benefit of the doubt if it meant keeping herself alive.
The distance between the two of them was slowly closing as she was followed through the dark and empty streets of the city, hoping, praying for some kind of shop or restaurant or something to make an appearance so she could hide inside but apparently Robin was able to find the one street in this city where everything was either closed for the night or boarded up.
Her heart was pounding in her ears and the beginnings of tears were starting to sting her eyes and all she could think of was how sick with worry Steve was going to be in the morning when he woke up to no missed calls, no missed texts and no Robin. She’d scoffed at him hours earlier when he’d offered to go to the ‘work thing’ with her but she'd told him she was a big girl and she could look after herself and not to be such a worrywart mom.
And now she had no idea where her phone had gone, if she'd left it behind or dropped it somewhere, no idea where she was and no idea of what she was going to do.
If she’d been a bit more present in her head she probably would have noticed the loud, braying, male laughter coming from just ahead of her and crossed the street to avoid them before it was obvious she was avoiding them. But as it was she could barely see straight through her tears and panicked tunnel vision while simultaneously trying to keep an eye on the slowly encroaching guy behind her. She was practically already in the group’s space and one of them had definitely already seen her though he didn’t pay her any attention.
But even through her blurred vision and panic, she finally registered what exactly she was looking at. Four men standing around the entrance to what looked like the diviest of empty dive bars, chain smoking and being as loud as humanly possible, but that’s not what caught her eye.
Long hair, chains, leather, denim, tartan, rings, tattoos, subculture. If Robin had to choose a group of men to approach, any kind of subculture would be the best option. They knew what it was like to be other. There was no guarantee these guys were safe, but they were probably safer than a group of frat boys.
The next thing that caught her eye that nearly made her cry in relief as she got closer were the patches and pins.
A rainbow ‘A’ against a black and white striped background pinned on one guys collar, a yellow-white-purple-black patch on another's arm, a pink-yellow-blue patch over the third guys heart and a progress pride flag pinned to the largest guys pocket.
Her people.
Without a second's hesitation she made a bee-line for them, planting herself firmly next to yellow-white-purple-black patch person who had a mess of thick light brown curls that reminded her of Steve’s hair. They fell painfully silent at her arrival.
The four of them blinked down at her, with her tearfilled eyes and wild aura of panic around her they were probably, understandably freaked out.
“Hi guys!” She called out to them, probably a little too loud, hoping her voice carried back to the fucker following her, tensing as she could actually hear his footsteps approaching now.
The guy with the longest hair and the pink-yellow-blue patch standing directly in front of her glanced quickly over her shoulder before returning his gaze to her. His face split into a wide warm grin, tapping her shoulder lightly.
“Hey girlie. We thought you weren’t coming, we’ve been waiting.”
The footsteps behind her audibly slowed down. Robin laughed, a little maniacally, keeping her frantic gaze on him, not daring to turn around. “Yeah, I uh- g- got sidetracked.”
“Eddie, what-”
Pink-yellow-blue patch guy, Eddie she supposed, slapped ‘A’ patch guy lightly on the stomach with the back of his hand, shutting him up as her pursuer passed them by, giving the group a wide berth.
“Hey, no worries. You’re here now, right?”
Pride patch guy kept his eyes on the guy who’d been following her the whole time, only looking away when he eventually turned the corner, disappearing into the night.
Robin immediately felt her posture slacken now that he was finally gone, the full weight of everything coming down on her. Her tears began to spill over and her whole body shook as hysterical sobs started to pour out of her body.
“I’m sorry. I’m- I’m sorry. I didn’t know what else to do. I think I left my phone behind and I don’t know where I am. We only moved here a couple of weeks ago and I got lost trying to get away and- and-”
“Hey, hey. It’s okay.” Yellow-white-purple-black patch person squeezed her shoulder lightly, keeping their distance. “You’re okay. Don’t worry about it.”
“We can call someone for you, if you want?” Eddie asked, crossing his arms tight like he was trying not to reach out to her, probably worried it would freak her out more. “Boyfriend or girlfriend-”
“Or romantic partner.” The person with their hand on her shoulder interjected lightly.
“Alright Baron from the Baronies.” Eddie snorted. “But fair point, Gareth. Romantic partner or friend or whatever?”
“Um,” Robin’s voice was still shaking. “I don’t… I’ve never been good at memorising numbers…”
“Me too, terrible at them.” Eddie smiled again, pulling his phone from his pocket. Robin’s fear and panic was almost entirely gone now even though she was still hiccuping and sniffling underneath their concerned gazes. They were all firmly keeping their distance, keeping any touches short and fleeting, not moving too suddenly, trying their best to make sure she knew they weren’t a threat and it was really helping her to start feeling safe again. “But we could try to find them online? Instagram or something?”
“Yeah. Yeah we could try that.” She wiped her eyes roughly against her sleeve as she shuffled over to Eddie’s side. “My best friend, Steve, he uh- he’s probably asleep and I don’t think you can call him if you don’t have him added…”
“You can send him a message.” Eddie replied easily, handing his phone over. “And if he doesn’t wake up, we’ll try something else.” 
“Don’t worry we’ll get you home.” ‘A’ patch guy smiled down at her while pride patch guy nodded along.
Robin sniffed again. “Thanks.” She was able to conjure up a small watery smile as she opened the app and found Steve’s profile, shooting off a quick message begging him not to freak out and explaining the situation as concisely as she could.
“Here.” She handed Eddie back his phone who glanced down at it for just a second before his eyes widened slightly as he scrolled through Steve’s profile.
“Oh shit. This is your friend?”
Robin nodded. “Mm-hmm.”
“He’s… he’s really pretty.”
That managed to pull a startled laugh from her. “Oh god, don’t tell him that, you’ll give him a big head.”
“Let me see?” Gareth asked, whistling low when Eddie turned his phone around showing a photo of Steve and Robin at their last pride parade cheering with the crowd, Steve with the pink-purple-blue of the bi flag smeared across each cheek and Robin with the pinks, oranges and white of the lesbian flag draped around her shoulders. “He is really pretty.”
Eddie snatched the phone back, cradling it to his chest. “Fuck off, Gare. I saw him first.”
Robin smiled again. “Any response from him?”
“Hm?” Eddie asked distractedly, scrolling through Steve’s photos before pride flag guy punched him in the shoulder. “Ow! Wh- oh, sorry!” Eddie frantically scrolled back up before clicking into his messages again and shaking his head. “Nothing yet.” He held the phone out to show her.
“Okay.”
“What’s your address? If he doesn’t respond, we'll find a way to get you there.”
“Uh…” Robin was drawing a complete blank, only able to remember her parents home address hundreds of miles away.
“Or tell us something nearby.” Eddie added, not missing a beat, clearly picking up on Robin’s lack of an answer. “What’s on your street?”
“Um,” she closed her eyes, trying to picture it in her head, “there’s a couple of Chinese take outs, Asian food store, paint store… there’s… I think it’s a tattoo parlour? There’s designs painted on the window, a tower on either side. I think they’re from Lord of the Rings?”
“Inklings? Is that the place?”
Robin opened her eyes. Eddie was grinning at her conspiratorially. “That’s it. You know it?”
“Would you believe me if I told you I work there?”
“No way.”
“Way.”
Hope was starting to grow feathers inside Robin’s chest. She could go home, she didn’t have to stay out all night waiting for Steve to wake up and never let her out of his sight again, she could hug her best friend and drink coffee out of her favourite mug and curse at their finicky fridge and steal his hair products again. She could go home.
“Is it far?”
“Nah, only a few streets away. Ten minute walk, tops.”
“D’you- I mean… do you think you could-” Could she really ask them to walk her home after they’d already done so much for her? Would she be asking too much? Could she be putting herself in more danger?
“I can take you there if you want? Let you get back to your… Steve.” There was a slight blush dusting over Eddie’s cheeks. Maybe he did have an ulterior motive, but it wasn’t an ulterior motive involving her. If she wasn’t so wrung out and aching to crawl into her own bed she’d be thinking up teasing material to lambaste Steve with. But as it was, she was desperate to get home.
“Would that be okay?”
“Yeah.” Eddie replied, bright and easy. “It would just be me and you though,” he held his hands up in surrender, “and you can totally say no, like if you're uncomfortable or whatever. Gareth is Grant and Jeff’s ride home and you’re still on the clock, right?” He turned to Gareth towards the end of his sentence.
“Yeah, but I get off shift in about an hour so could come in if you wanted, wait around in the back room until then if you wanna go as a group?” They answered. 
“I think… I think I just want to get home.”
“Okay, cool. No worries I’ll get you there safe and sound. Here,” Eddie pulled his phone out again, “I’m gonna message Steve to let him know we’re on the way in case he wakes up,” he showed her the short message only sending it off when she gave a nod, “and I’ll get you to navigate just so we don’t get lost.” 
He handed his phone to her with the maps app open, directing them towards Inklings tattoo parlour. He was playing it off like an easy joke, instead of another way to assure her she was safe. He was making sure she knew exactly where he was taking her at all times, he was making sure she had the ability to call the police or whatever if he turned on her, he was making sure she knew he didn’t need or want her address if she didn’t want to give it. 
This fucking guy.
He definitely wouldn’t be the worst choice Steve had ever made if it did go that way.
“I don’t know how to thank all of you, seriously. I don’t know what I would have done if I hadn’t run into you.”
“Don’t worry about it.” Grant smiled at her before hesitating. “Uh, I just realised we don’t have your name.”
“Oh!” She laughed at herself, feeling lighter. “I’m Robin.”
“Pleasure to meet you, Robin.” Grant held his hand out, shaking hers once she took it.
“Likewise.”
“And don’t worry about thanking us, just pay it forward, yeah?” Jeff said.
“Plus.” Gareth took on a nonchalant tone even though they had a smirk plastered over their face. “We’ll see you again at Steve and Eddie’s wedding.”
“Shut up!” Eddie scowled but didn’t hold onto it for long in the wake of Robin’s giggles.
She sighed once the giggles subsided, a weight lifted off her shoulders. “I look forward to it.” She raised her hand in salute as the three of them headed back inside, turning to Eddie as he held his elbow out.
“Shall we?”
Robin tried to suppress her smile but took Eddie’s arm anyway. They only made it down one street and around one corner, Robin clutching tight to Eddie’s phone before he finally asked.
"So."
"So."
"Best friend Steve." Eddie twirled his rings around his fingers. "Is he…"
“He’s single.” She answered lightly. “But you might be arriving into his life at the wrong time. He’s recently sworn off men.”
“Well we’ve all sworn off men once or twice. Men are terrible.”
“Agreed.”
“Is it because of a bad ex?”
Robin threw her head back with a groan remembering the giant breakdown that had finally finally ended it. “Tommy was the worst. He’s the reason we even moved out here, there’s nowhere to get away from an ex in a small town, you know? They’re everywhere. I’m not going to go into what happened, it’s not my business to say but it was bad.”
Eddie nodded, his eyes down on the ground, running through everything in his head.
Robin could see the tattoo parlour up ahead, the glorious sight of their apartment building just a few buildings away.
“Do you think… with time… he could open himself up to men again?”
Eddie had such a tentative hope in his eyes, it was adorable really. Looking over him, she thought about the type of people Steve would constantly thirst over, blip in the matrix Tommy Hagan notwithstanding.
Lithe bodies with full lips and giant eyes, hair he could run his fingers through and something unusual about them. Something odd.
He’d never explicitly gone for someone so heavily into a subculture before but he’d never turned them down either. And based on Eddie’s job at the tattoo parlour and the way he was dressed, he almost definitely had some ink on him. That alone would be enough to make Steve swoon.
“I think he might. Will you walk me up?” Robin asked, holding the door to the building open, offering Eddie the same kindness under the guise of doing a favour that he had offered her so many times tonight.
“Yeah, sure.”
They’d managed to make it up to the third floor, walking down her hallway before Eddie’s phone started to ping incessantly.
She turned the phone over in her hand, looking at the screen. “He’s awake.”
Robin, where are you?
Are you okay?
I’m on the way.
Please be okay.
Their apartment door was flung open just as they reached it. Steve was standing there panting and terrified, his hair a mess, his glasses askew, his jacket and shoes thrown haphazardly over his pyjamas.
“Robbie.”
Steve slammed into her, holding her tight before immediately letting go to inspect her face and running his hands over her body, checking to see if anything was wrong.
“Are you okay? Are you hurt? What happened? What do you need?”
“Steve.” Robin caught his fluttering hands in hers and squeezed, nearly crying out in relief just to have him with her again. “I’m okay. Eddie and his friends helped me.”
“Eddie-” Steve looked to the side, noticing her saviour for the first time. “You’re Eddie.”
“I’m Eddie.” Eddie gave him a short little wave and a dazzling smile that quickly dropped in shock as Steve pulled him into a crushing hug, his blush returning with full force.
“Thank you, thank you so much. I don’t know what I would’ve-” Steve took a big breath in and loosened his arms from around Eddie’s shoulders. Robin saw his eyes slowly trail over his face before very briefly flicking down to the pink-yellow-blue patch then back up. “Come inside, the two of you. Can I get you anything? Tea? Decaf coffee? A glass of water? Like, literally anything to say thank you.” He asked, ushering the two of them into the apartment.
Steve caught Robin’s eye behind Eddie’s back and mouthed ‘oh my god he’s fucking gorgeous!’
Robin snorted and thought to herself ‘sworn off men, my ass.’
5K notes · View notes
biggaybunny · 7 months
Text
The inherent conflict of being alive is that your cells just love water. Great stuff for cells. Excellent for transporting things around in, really helps counteract gravity and make that 3rd dimension fully accessible. You as an organism however, want atmosphere. It's got all those awesome gases, like oxygen. Those gases are great! But they're not very good at getting in the water. Lots more of them outside the water.
Now some organisms went ahead and said "well, our cells want to be in the water, we're made of cells, we're staying in the water". And I respect that! Gotta respect that. Lots of 'em stick to the surface, get a little bit of the good gases, but keep themselves nice and watered up (wet) to keep their cells happy. Some make do with whatever cool gases have managed to dissolve into the water, thanks to a process known as "churning that shit up" that happens on the water's surface. Doesn't work out great for them, but you know, they made their decision and they committed to it. You gotta respect that.
Now some organisms, especially a lot of old ones, were afraid of commitment. They hung out at the water's edge, breathing all the gases and shit, but still needed to make sure they could stay wet. Like, their plan was to leave the water, but stay wet. Not a great move, if you ask me. Usually it works, but only until it doesn't. You ever seen dried up moss? Ask it how it's "stay wet but not in water" plan went. It can't answer you. It fucked up. That's what you get for not committing.
Now trees though, trees had the other idea. Trees and some other plants were like, no problem. I'm gonna take my water with me and never ever let it go. They developed specialized cells and shit. They got whole layers dedicated to keeping the water the fuck in. They got other cells dedicated to hunting down any water in a square fuckometer and taking it for themselves. That's hustle. That's a game plan. Some plants got so good at it they saw these dry-ass stretches of land that saw rain less often than you saw your mother smile as a child and were like "okay but is the amount of water not literally zero? Yeah? We're good."
The moving orgisms tried to copy trees, naturally. Making hard outer layers to trap the water in for their cells. But it was pretty weak. They kept going on about needing holes for the moisture to leave, and wet surfaces for their eyeballs. Then some of us got stupid and decided maybe we only needed like a half-decent layer protecting our water. "Semi-permeable" they marketed it as. Oh it's fine they said. We'll live somewhere wet, they said. Yeah how'd that work out for that moss again.
And now I get a headache if I go like 3 hours without drinking a glass of water. I should've been a pine tree.
2K notes · View notes