#robert it’s one night

[bobbie-robron]

Look… Aaron, I can’t help it if I’m not ready for kids.

Mini set

20-Nov-2018

[arthursfuckinghat]

There's thousands of details in rdr2 that I really love, and I say it all the time, but if I had to pick one as my favourite? It would be the campfire interactions.

From chapter one to even the epilogues, there's always something going on around a campfire.

It's always touched me in an emotional way, but the vulnerability, honesty and silliness that comes out of gang members during late night/early hour campfire conversations? It's truly a beautifully written and well executed feature that I spend a lot of time paying attention to.

The campfire is almost like the gang's communal safe space. They're free to talk, vent, sing or play instruments, and the others around will simply sit and listen or sing along. They bond over sharing these funny stories and tall tales, you have the opportunity to learn so much from the gang members by just listening around the campfire.

Lenny will talk about his father and their hardships, Hosea will talk about how much he misses Bessie or how special Dutch is to him, Reverend Swanson will be open about his addiction and the relationship he has with religion, Abigail will voice her frustrations about John, Bill will talk about how he got discharged from the army, John will talk about his worries regarding Dutch's leadership, Micah will talk about damnation and being prepared for hell, and Javier will be open about Mexico or his mother passing away and not being able to bury her.

There's plenty more, there's hundreds of different campfire interactions, but on a rare occasion - Arthur will talk. He'll sit down and begin apologising for how things have turned out, he'll admit how he's struggling to find a way forward for everyone and that he doesn't want to die but is willing to, then he'll ask for their forgiveness and excuse himself shortly after.

I find it hard to describe how despite gang members having differing options of each other, there's an unspoken mutual closeness that they share whilst talking around the fire. They'll jest and laugh and quip, but they'll also simply listen when they need to.

It's so wonderful.

[ryllen]

i thought / m a n / these girls are quite heartless 🤣 when i accepted the quest at /clearly/ inconvenient time to swim & dive

[cantsayidont]

Robert McGinnis painting for a 1966 Dutch paperback edition of Mickey Spillane's red-baiting Mike Hammer novel ONE LONELY NIGHT, published with the Dutch title SPIONNE MET EEN ZWOELE LACH (SPY WITH A SULTRY SMILE).

[worshipfulmercy]

Uh, I’m not going to the bachelor party. Every time I go to one of your parties, I end up embarrassing myself in some new and unexpected way.

(also here's the full scene GIFed, lol. couldn't stay away from it)

[chronicowboy]

Its not unusual for Eddie to be quiet for whole shifts. Some days, its just a bad day. One where all the work Eddie has done to get better can only keep him trudging forward step by heavy step. One where all his demons come back at once and try to drag him down. One where Eddie is too busy fighting old habits to join in on the jokes and banter. They've all gotten good at dealing with these days - Buck especially, but that's no surprise when he was there for The Worst Days.

So, its not unusual for Eddie to be quiet, but there's a simmering despair to Eddie's silence today that has Bobby's hackles rising. Its not his usual listless, fatigued quiet. Its a heavy, burdensome quiet. Bobby can't stand it, so he waits until the rest of the team trudge off to the bunks before he corners Eddie in the lounge with two cups of tea.

"You're not gonna let me escape are you?" Eddie sighs, collapsing back against the couch he'd tried to jump up from.

"I'm not holding you hostage," Bobby offers him one of the mugs with a smile, "I'm simply gently suggesting that you talk to someone. And I happen to be right here."

"Yeah." Eddie sighs again, eyes drifting down to the steaming surface of his tea. "What do you think I should talk to someone about?"

"Whatever it is that has you like this." Bobby gestures at him kindly. "You seem heavier."

He doesn't say it, but Eddie looks a lot like he did when Buck was in his coma. Bobby can't help but wonder, what with all the Natalia talk, if its because Eddie thinks he's losing him all over again, in a different way.

"Its nothing..." Eddie shakes his head, averts his eyes. "Just something that old lady from the living funeral said to me and Hen. Something my aunt said too."

"What'd they say?" Bobby prompts gently.

"My aunt said that I'm alone," Eddie mumbles. "Marie said that we all die alone. And, recently, I don't know." Another sigh, a hand scrubbed down his face. "Recently, it feels like time is running out and I can't help but think that when it does, its just a lonely death waiting for me at the finish line."

"Eddie, you aren't going to die alone." Bobby aches for him. Buck may be his son, but Bobby's always seen a piece of himself in Eddie. Its why he finds himself here so often, trying to coax Eddie's heart out of its cage. "You know that there are two people who would never, ever let that happen."

Eddie huffs a bitter laugh, eyes landing somewhere far away.

"Yeah, that's what I thought too."

Bobby is mature enough to admit he flounders a little here. All these talks he's had with Eddie, its always felt a bit like speaking to a brick wall. But now, now he thinks Eddie might have finally understood.

"Eddie," Bobby murmurs seriously, seriously enough to have Eddie meeting his eyes, "its never too late. Never."

"Feels like it might be this time, Cap," Eddie chokes out. He glances down at his tea. "I don't want to be alone."

"Love is a risk," Bobby blurts out desperately. He's never met two men who deserve a happy ending more than Buck and Eddie, and, whilst he can't take credit for how far they've come, he feels a blazing pride that their happy endings are to be found in each other. He can't let them miss out. "Love is a terrible, awful risk. Always. Always. Its never easy. It might be in the end. You might look back one day and think that it was all worth it to end up here. But you're in the today, the now, when the love is horrible and painful and the most difficult thing in the world." Eddie looks up at him with tear-filled eyes, and Bobby's heart breaks for him. "Every beat of your heart is like a punch to the stomach, and you think that maybe it would be easier if you'd never felt the love at all."

"No," Eddie interrupts, shaking his head. "No, there's no way I was never going to feel this.. I'd always end up here."

"That's mighty faithful for someone who doesn't believe in the universe," Bobby mumbles.

"I believe in him," Eddie shrugs helplessly.

"Eddie, you haven't lost him." Bobby lays a hand on his shoulder. "He's just out of reach, but you can get to him. You've done it before. Both of you have. You always make it back to each other. That's your deal."

"I don't know how to reach him this time," Eddie confesses breathlessly.

"You have to take the leap, Eddie." Bobby sighs. "Its going to be terrifying, and it might not all fall into place at once. But one day, you'll look back and you'll be so damn glad you jumped."

Eddie bites into his lip as the first tear rolls down his cheek.

"What if he doesn't catch me?"

"Then, he'll pick you up off the floor," Bobby promises with all the conviction he has. Its the one thing he knows with any certainty in this world. "Eddie, whatever happens, you can't lose Buck. Not completely. And things might change. But think of how it could change for the better."

Eddie smiles to himself, a tiny, wobbly, private thing that Bobby's only caught glimpses of when Buck is around.

"So, I just jump?" he asks.

"You jump." Bobby nods. "You jump, and you hope, and you trust that he'll be right there with you."

"That he'll have my back?" Eddie grins ruefully.

"Yeah, trust that he'll have your back," Bobby smiles right back.

They'll be okay.

[laracrofted]

❝ down comes the night

synopsis: billionaire bob floyd has a reputation for partying and womanizing, but bob has a secret. and when her work in the district attorney's office puts her in the crosshairs of the mob, fran find herself right in the middle of his double life.

pairing: batman!bob floyd x fran douglas (oc)

general warnings: minors and ageless accounts dni (18+), batman au, explicit smut, explicit language, alcohol, see individual posts for specific warnings.

fics

down comes the night make your own luck (district attorney jake)

drabbles and blurbs

extras

playlist mood board batman bob edit work song edit search the tag

anything marked with ⊹ contains smut | requests are open for blurbs. send in a prompt or an idea!

[attapullman]

ONE NIGHT ONLY // series

It wasn’t supposed to be anything. Meaningless sex. A laugh or two. Home before dawn with a coffee from the place on the corner. Bob Floyd never expected to meet a wide-grinned early riser who has him questioning his policy on dating. But he's really glad he did.

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x OC (Maggie Brentley)

Warnings: 18+ (minors and blank dni), language, suggestive content, smut, angst out the wazoo.

COMING SOON

[poppingmary]

Claudette Colbert in “It Happened One Night” - 1935

Wedding gown by Robert Kalloch

[viric-dreams]

Weeks after learning of the Commodore's death--when he could no longer lie in bed consumed by grief, after he was forced to get up, to feed himself, to keep going--Roberts had visited the Dark-Spectacled Admiral. There was no love lost between the Admiral and the Commodore over the years. Roberts had heard plenty of the stories of the Commodore's frustrations upon return from his many trips to London. He hadn't seen the Admiral himself since he was barely more than a child. Yet he had to try.

As the years had gone by, the old guard had slowly faded out of the picture, until there were so very few people left who remembered the olden days. Remembered the Commodore as Roberts knows--knew him. The man who was full of jokes and life, whose charisma captured a room. One who cared. A man who'd spent hours yelling encouraging words through a layer of crumpled steel, trying to grant some level of comfort to a trapped and terrified child, to at the very least abate some of that terror in what could've likely been his final moments. The man who had slowly faded into placidity and smiles and bright nothingness as the years had gone on.

The Admiral was no friend to either of them, not since the schism, but perhaps he might remember the friendship the two had once had. Perhaps he might care that he died. Perhaps there is someone else who remembers the man, the same one Roberts does, and feels something at his passing. He has to try.

He adjusts his spectacles, hiding the puffiness of his eyes from view, and knocks on the door.

[paracunt]

Paramore perform at the Kia Forum (Night One) in Los Angeles, California (2023) by Christian Sarkine

[distance-does-not-matter]

Gracie just reminded me of when I was in Scotland, I was walking in the very pretty cemetery and petting some dogs I’d just met and talking to their owners, and one asked me what I was studying, and when I told her “gothic lit”, she said “oh, that explains why you’re hanging around here then”

like. MA’AM sldjsbdbdb. and she’s not WRONG I do love a cemetery

[queer-book-character-tournament]

Character, book, and author names under the cut

Siuan Sanche Sedai- Wheel of Time series by Robert Jordan

Raff Barden- One Night in Hartswood by Emma Denny

Biyu "Jane" Su- One Last Stop by Casey McQuiston

Theo Bell- Loki- Where Mischief Lies by Mackenzi Lee

[azure-clockwork]

How Does it Feel to Read Classic Sci-Fi?

Orson Scott Card: Two of the most interesting books you’ll ever read if you’re willing to look past a handful of things. And then you find the planet of Chinese people who worship having debilitating OCD. And the Mormonism. And the fact that the author is wildly homophobic and ought to read his own books.

Robert Heinlein (or at least the Wikipedia Summaries): I guess that’s a neat concept—oh, it’s a sex thing. Um. Gotcha.

Ray Bradbury: Man, I gotta read this thing for class huh. Well here’s hoping it’s good! *three hours later* oh. that’s why he’s famous. this will stick with me forever and I will never look at the phrase ‘soft rain’ the same again. christ. And then repeat 3x.

Isaac Asimov: Wow, this is such an interesting concept! I wonder how the exploration of it will influence the plot! Wait, hey, are you going to add any characters? Any of em? No like, with character traits other than ‘robot psychologist’ and ‘autistic’ and ‘woman’? None of em? No, ‘detective’ isn’t a character trait. Those are all just facts. Aaaand now I’m bored.

Ursula K. Le Guin: Hah, get a load of this guy! He’s never heard of nonbinary people before. Lol, what a riot; how dumb do you have to be to comprehend that these people aren’t men *or* women actually? Oh, wait, what’s happening. Oh shit, it was about society and love and learning to understand each other? And now I’m crying? And perhaps a better human being for it??

Andy Weir: Alright, this guy’s a really good writer. Funny, creative, knows so much engineering stuff…ooh, a new book! …I guess he can’t write women. Well, he wouldn’t be the first sci-fi writer…ooh another new book! And it’s more engineering problem solving and—wow. It’s not just women he can’t write. Please stop letting your characters talk to each other.

Lois Lowry: Oh, I remember this being fun when I was a kid! Wouldn’t it be fucked up to not see color? …upon reread, it would be fucked up to have your humanity stripped away, replaced with a tepid, beige ‘happiness’ for all time. Yeah.

Tamsyn Muir (let me have this ok): Haha, “lesbian necromancers in space” sounds fun. Lemme read this. Oh wow, yeah, this is right up my alley. OH GOD WHAT. NO. FUCK. OH SHIT WHAT IS EVEN HAPPENING AND WHY IS IT REFERENCING THE BOOK OF RUTH AND HOMESTUCK BACK TO BACK!!! AHHHHHHHHH!! Now give me more please.

[evviejo]

thirteen’s era appreciation: 248/?

[leaawrites]

Late Night Talking

Ryan McMahon x fem!reader

Summary: a childhood crush finally developes into love.

Warnings: none

This is part one of three.

Masterlist

You could see your breath when walking through the cold night in Dublin.

At least that’s what Y/n and Ryan noticed when walking home from band practice. Y/n wasn’t part of the band. Though she enjoyed music, there was little musical talent behind her knowledge of it, beside song-writing. It has always been what connected them. Especially her and Eli, seeing that they were the main writers on the lads songs. Spending nights between words on scribbled papers while the others were sound asleep made them become closer.

Laughing and arguing for hours on end felt comfortable with Eli for her. Though she couldn’t ignore the little voice that would always remind her how she deeply wanted it to be someone else she got to spent so much time with. The boy walking next to her. With his hands stuffed in his jeans jacket and his eyes focused on the road ahead, Y/n couldn’t ignore how her chest tightened and she wanted to smile at the mere thought of him.

Little did she know that the boy was debating whether or not to confront her about her feelings. Not for him, but for Eli. It made him feel scared, knowing that his best friend might like the same girl as him, and had better chances as well. It was a horrible feeling forming in his stomach, when he woke up from their laughter and seeing them huddled close together over a paper. He would watch as she stared at Eli with a sort of admiration he couldn’t quite place and how Eli would look at her while he played guitar. It was like in those moments, no one else existed beside them and he hated it.

The cold air hit her as a car drove by and made her shiver. Ryan, who was quietly watching her the whole walk home, noticed the girls cold state.

“Here,” he said, taking his jacket from his body and offering it to her. “Take it.”

This was his chance to make her notice him.

“Are you sure? Won’t you be cold?” She asked, still she took the jacket from him and snuggled a little closer to the fabric.

“I’m fine,” he assured her, shrugging as if nothing about the cold bothered him.

They continued walking in silence, no one said what was on their mind that night.

“That is mine.” The girl stopped in front of a house just two streets away from Ryan’s own home.

“Okay,” he said, “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah, see you tomorrow.”

She kept the jacket until the next day. When she came with it on, all eyes were on her. The lads knew who that jacket belonged to and when she offered it back to Ryan in a quiet moment when the boys were busy being idiots once again, he said, “keep it. Might need it again.”

So she kept it.