#Drag E 60

[saym0-0]

headcanon all the bots and the ais all have access to the spg social media accounts straight from their brains and dont have their own personal accounts so the spg twitter is extremely active from like 8 robots all browsing at the same time. they have to sign off with their initial/name,, sometimes you get massively long threads thats just them talking to each other on the same account from literally 4 rooms apart

[wheelsgoroundincircles]

1970 Dodge Challenger T/A

1970 Dodge Challenger T/A Sitting for 45 Years Is a Rare Barn Find in Sublime Green

Introduced in 1969 on the then-new E-body platform, the first-generation Dodge Challenger was a big hit, moving nearly 77,000 units in its first year on the market. And while it may seem rather common, the 1970 Challenger lineup included a few rare gems.

Nearly 73% of the cars were ordered in standard trim, leaving only 18,512 R/T models. Most of the latter left the assembly line with the 383-cubic-inch (6.3-liter) V8, and just 6,231 units were specified with the larger 440-cubic-inch (7.2-liter) RB and 426-cubic-inch (7.0-liter) HEMI mills.

The HEMI is arguably the rarest 1970 Challenger, with only 356 examples made. Just 60 were also ordered with the SE package, and only nine were convertibles. The 440 Six Pack version is also rare at 2,035 examples, while the regular four-barrel 440 found its way into 3,840 vehicles.

But Dodge also built a small-block gem that saw daylight in limited numbers. I'm talking about the Challenger T/A. Developed to homologate the Challenger for the SCCA Trans-Am series, the T/A was available for only a few months in 1970. And its short stint on the assembly line resulted in only 2,399 street-legal models being built and sold.

The T/A packs several unique features, including a low-restriction exhaust system with side-exiting pipes, a larger air scoop, a fiberglass hood, and a heavy-duty suspension. The stripe package is also unique to this car, as is the 340-cubic-inch (5.6-liter) V8 with a triple two-barrel carburetor setup.

An upgrade over the more common four-barrel 340, the Six Pack layout gave the T/A 290 horsepower to play with. And even though it's nowhere near as powerful as the big-block cars, the T/A has a solid advantage in terms of curb weight and handling.

Come 2023, the T/A is one of the most desirable versions of the 1970 Challenger. And while many cars are still around as restored gems, some are rotting away in junkyards and barns, often missing vital components. The Sublime green example you see here is one of them. But unlike other abandoned T/As, this survivor got a second chance at life, and it's roaming the streets again.

Documented by YouTube's "Auto Archaeology," this T/A spent most of its life off the road. According to our host, the Challenger was parked for unknown reasons sometime in 1977. So that's only seven years on the road and more than four decades in storage.

Parked with a four-barrel carburetor instead of the Six Pack setup, it remained in storage in Memphis and Arkansas until 2022. That's when the car was sold and dragged out of its barn. And surprisingly enough, the T/A emerged in surprisingly solid condition.

Sure, the Sublime paint has faded away, and the black vinyl top is long gone, but the body is straight and almost rust-free. There's some rust on the trunk floor, but it's an easy fix with a regular Challenger pan, which is relatively easy to find.

The engine bay was empty at the time of the rescue, but the car still had the original block. And even though the Six-Pack carb was gone, it came with a period correct unit. The driveshaft, air cleaner, automatic gearbox, and the original wheels (which are very rare) were still with the car.

Speaking of which, the automatic makes this T/A one of 1,410 vehicles built with this drivetrain combo. The vinyl top decreases that number even more. It's unclear if it came with a V1G gator grain top, but if it did, it's one of only 33 T/As built like this.

But the really good news about this Challenger is that it has since been revamped and put back on the road. It hasn't been restored just yet, but it's not a solid survivor that's no longer rotting away in a barn. And that's a win in my book.

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 9

part 1 | part 8 | ao3

cw: medical emergency

He ditches his car at the top of the street, runs the rest of the way because there are too many people standing around — a small crowd of onlookers clustered at the bottom of the lane, gawking in their sleep shirts and flannels like the world isn’t trying to end for a fourth time. Fifth? He can’t keep track. He can’t even think, numb to everything but the pounding of his shoes against the pavement, the sirens wailing in his ears, the steady prayer in his pulse not her not now not both—

“Mom?” he shouts, voice cracking and raw. “Mom!!”

“It’s not for her.”

There’s a hand against his chest then, heel of a palm pressed to his sternum, and he slams into it like a brick wall. The air burns in his lungs; he can’t focus his eyes. “Wh-what?” he gets out, voice shaking, throat thick. Cold terror drools down his sweaty neck like the breath of a hungry monster. He’s a little kid again, swept up in the mayhem of a crowded mall. Where’s his mom; where’s his mom?

“Your mom’s in my house.” The voice is deep and slow, the hand flexing against his shirt. Fingers splayed. Heavy rings.

“…E-Eddie?” Steve’s vision swims, going yellow and purple then tunneling down to black, deep water filling his ears. Nothing makes any sense. “Munson, what—?”

“Your mom’s in my house,” he repeats like a mantra. Like a lighthouse in the fog, voice rumbling and sure. “She’s safe. She’s fine. You’re hyperventilating; take a breath.”

His breath is still catching quick and high in his throat, little puffs of cold mist. Can you drown in cold air? Can it condense inside your chest?

Eddie grips his shoulder, snaps his fingers in Steve’s face. “Hey. Hey, Steve? Come on, man, look at me. Steve. Look at me.”

Steve meets his gaze like the tide drawn to the moon.

“Deep breath,” he demonstrates, sucking air through an invisible straw, letting his chest and belly swell. Steve copies him until his vision starts to clear, until his heartbeat starts to calm. "That's it," Eddie tells him. "Good. Yeah, there we go."

Some hysterical part in the back of his brain wants to laugh. To start and never stop, just laugh and laugh and laugh until his fucking head explodes.

When he can breathe again, he pants weakly, “What is going on?”

Eddie guides him to a picnic table on the outskirts of the crowd, and they perch on top of it with their feet planted on the bench. The air feels calmer here.

Steve takes another breath.

Eddie points to the single-wide right next to Steve’s. “The wagon’s for your neighbor,” he grimaces in sympathy, one eye squinting shut as he cocks his head at Steve. “Ernie. You know him?”

“Mm.” Ernie Gerwitz. Late 60s, a widower with liver spots and arthritis in both hands. Bad heart, worse drinking habit. Fucking hates Steve’s mom because she backed over his begonias. “Not well.”

They didn’t interact much beyond an occasional neighborly nod, although Steve did once earn the guy’s good graces by yelling at Misty while shooing her off with a rake. (‘Little bitch left me a whole damn weasel last year,’ he’d grumbled as he stooped to pick up the newspaper. ‘Can't shoot her, though, 'cause she scares away the possums.’) And now…

Steve can’t make out much from here, just the shape of a four-man stretcher being carried out the door, strobe light streaks in his vision as the EMTs load up the van.

“Is he…” Steve gulps, clasping his hands between his knees. He doesn’t want to ask this question. The words taste moldy in his mouth. “Is he dead?”

Eddie’s hand shakes a little when he drags it down his cheek. His answer comes on a wobbly sigh, an almost melodic quality to the tension in his voice. “No-o idea, man. Your, uh, your mom, ya know, she— She found him. In, um. In the yard." "Jesus." "Said he was just, like... lying there. In the grass.” Eddie stares off into the distance like he’s seeing it right now; makes a wet clucking sound as his bottom lip quivers. “Thinks it was, a- a heart thing, or something? Shit, I don’t know. She was pretty freaked out when she knocked on my door.”

Steve can't picture it. He hasn’t seen her express a single true emotion since July.

A hesitant hitch of breath, and Eddie chews on his next words, tapping a hand against his thigh. “She’s, uh... she’s… calmer now. Or. At least-”

Steve rolls his eyes, knows exactly where this is going. Eddie tries again: “I mean, she seemed like-”

“Like a fucking zombie?” Steve supplies.

“Yeah,” Eddie huffs, a nervous laugh of relief. You said it, man, not me. There’s something serious in his gaze, something curious and searching.

Something almost kind. Steve shrinks away from it like a vampire in the sun. Go on, he wants to say, ask about the fucking pills. Wants to goad him into a fight, some mean, sharp thing inside him itching to see someone else bleed.

Steve bites his tongue until he tastes metallic tang. Copper covering mildew; fresh bloom coating decay. He swallows hard, lets them both slide down his throat — blood and ghosts, life and death. The River Styx must taste like pennies.

The siren starts again, and Eddie groans and hangs his head. “Christ," he murmurs to the dirt, “Wayne’s gonna be so bummed.”

They both watch in silence as the ambulance goes by.

—

part 10

okay same deal tagging whoever commented yesterday (if your settings will let me) you’re all delightful tysm 😘 @paintsplatteredandimperfect @thefreakandthehair @slutforcoffein @manda-panda-monium @munsonfamilybandalso @aliea82 @eddie-munsons-missing-nipple @lololol-1234 @hotluncheddie @pennyplainknits @disrespectedgoatman @carolinachickadee @insideiscold @acedorerryn @anne-bennett-cosplayer @violetsteve my actual wife blessings upon your house @lighthousebeams @steves-strapcollection @sirsnacksalot @stevesbipanic @slowandsteddie @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @so-get-this-sammy @annabanannabeth @runninriot @cuips-not-cute @a-little-unsteddie @envyadams-vs-me @ppunkpuppyy if i forgot anyone i’m sorry i am very sleep deprived

[stovepiperat]

dashboard simulator

(poll) in a survival cannibalism situation, which part of jared harris would you consume first? (knock-down drag-out debate raging in the tags including sidebar quibbling about how to read the ‘survival cannibalism’ aspect of the question, every single person who has reblogged is acting like there is a single objectively correct answer, ‘tumy’ is winning over ‘The Dick’ by a significant margin) (289 notes)

text post about something a cartoon villain could do to a man, e. g. “i love men. i need to put his ass on a long conveyor belt with the roaring sound of the immense furnace at the factory’s heart growing louder with every inch he advances towards his doom” (11,202 notes)

a really horny crop of some kind of old public domain art, e. g. the corner of a medieval tapestry with a court jester on a leash (6,677 notes)

gifset of that one scene from sas rogue heroes (1,294 notes)

fancam of adam nagaitis as cornelius hickey from amc’s the terror (2018) to a megan thee stallion song (reblogged 4x by different mutuals with tags protesting the fact that i reblogged this 35 times in a row) (98 notes)

painting of a tall ship (60 notes)

the mountain goats lyric/webweave (tagged “prev” and then everyone’s chatter in the tags is just like onomatopoeia of guttural agonized howls) (3,845 notes)

gif of gay porn which i will “like” before scrolling down and realizing that it is a pro wrestling gifset and with a heavy heart proceeding to “unlike” (613 notes)

[imoncloud7]

part 4;

prev. | m.list | next

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written portion at the end!!

"god fuckin' damnit." yn sighed as she put her phone down. she was currently in her last lecture of the day, contemplating how she got into this mess. and how all of her friends suddenly knew oikawa tooru. and how he found her twitter and followed it.

yn had met matsukawa issei in their last term during their first year of school, and while they were not too close, they did have one thing in common. they loved to go out. their drunk escapades slowly began to include mattsun's not-boyfriend-but-boyfriend makki, and they all slowly began to get a bit closer.

being that all of their friends were intertwined, it would be a matter of time before they all figured out what was going on between oikawa and yn. their hookups have surprisingly pre-dated all of yn's friendships in college, which have been difficult to come by. being from another country and also an introvert were really big roadblocks.

oikawa never seemed to care about that though. the first night they met, during their first term in their first year, he had approached her at some sort of welcome party an older student was throwing. yn had quickly figured out that he was a chronic flirter, but had enough alcohol in her system to go home with him. which ended up happening every weekend of the first year, and now second year as well. it was nice for yn to have physical contact, as that was hard to come by now having broken up with her ex and being that she had close to no friends in japan. it was a distraction, something that satisfied her needs with no feelings.

these days however, now that he knows more than just her first name and how to please her, it's too complicated. and wildly uncomfortable.

flashback: 1st term, 1st year

"smoking's not a good look on such a pretty face like yours" yn heard behind her on the balcony. the inside was stuffy and the music felt like it was eating her eardrums alive, so she had made her way outside for some peace and quiet. only for it to be disturbed.

"oh yeah? and who are you to have an opinion on that?" the girl looked over her shoulder to see who was behind her. she was met with a pair of chocolate brown eyes and windswept hair to match.

oikawa thinks his heart may have stopped when she turned to look at him. he had seen her inside and thought she was pretty, sure, but out here was a different story. the moonlight caused her e/c eyes to glow, and her hair seemed so much softer out here. his eyes widened a bit and he choked on his words a bit before responding.

"im oikawa. oikawa tooru. and sorry, truthfully i couldn't think of another way to approach you." he walked up towards the edge of the balcony, taking his place to her right. she took a long drag before offering it towards him wordlessly.

"no thanks, i'm an athlete i can't really do that stuff."

"but you're at a party, clearly intoxicated. i wonder what your coach would think of that." she shot back.

"touche. you never told me your name." he chuckled in his response.

"yn."

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notes:

the "smokings not a good look on you" line was actually used on me

i was at a club in singapore and an old man (maybe like 50-60 yrs old) literally started talking to me while i had a cig in my hand like go away u creep im 20

he texted me on whatsapp later abt that like mind ur business

idk why i gave him my number tbh i just wanted to see if hed buy me drinks

anyways i love matsukawa issei (whats new)

little flashback moment to when their whole affair started!!

either the next chapter or the next two chapters shi may go down

[ghostinthegallery]

I just need everyone to know that I enjoy writing Necrons a *completely normal* amount. And I think about how to write them pretty much the average amount too. Just so we're clear.

But y'all I really like writing for Orikan (and not just because of the banter with Trazyn. That's only like 60% of why)

We went on a journey, him and I. Because I hated his robotic guts for easily 2/3rds of Infinite and the Divine...

In my defense, the scene of him shattering all those ancient ceramics enraged me! I've been going to museums since I could walk. I love art and history! I watch the Great Pottery Throwdown!! He did not start off from a sympathetic place.

But damn it, the bastard grew on me! He's obscenely competent, literally the best at what he does, but that doesn't change the fact that he's essentially a servant to more powerful people and that he is *profoundly lonely*

The thing about a lot of characters who think they are smarter than everyone around them is that they are wrong and usually have an arc about needing to be humbled. Orikan actually is smarter than everyone around him! He runs circles around farseers! He pulls time shenanigans that are considered *impossible* on a semi-regular basis. No one can truly compete with him (well, almost no one, put a pin in that).

Except that means he has no equal, no person he can really relate to, and he's painfully aware of that. Jokes about e-girlfriends aside, meeting Vishani was a dream come true, because she was actually someone Orikan respected, who respected him in return, and who he could talk to like a friend. He got that after waiting millions of years.

Except it was all a lie. The god that damned their people decided to ruin Orikan's day in particular in the most personal way possible.

It's a particularly cruel twist because not only are there no other Necrons for Orikan to consider an intellectual equal, there aren't any he can really TRUST. He warned every single one of them that biotransference would be a disaster and no one listened. Not only that, they forced him to give up his body and soul. He was dragged to the furnaces knowing what was going to happen to him, and it doesn't sound like he's gotten a whole lot of "mea culpas" from anyone.

So yeah, everyone's an idiot, their idiocy cost him his literal soul, and the one time he got the friend he craved it turned out to be an evil star god cosplaying his nerd-crush.

Which is a lot of angst to work with as a writer! And it is fun as hell. There's just one more ingredient that truly elevates this tragedy souffle. Time to take out the pin...

The pin is Trazyn. No one should be shocked by this.

Because the thing is, Orikan *does* have an equal, a counterpart, and someone he can...not trust per se, but at least understand. The only problem is that he does not realize it, because that person is Trazyn. Who Orikan hates. A lot.

Justifiably, to be fair. Trazyn is an asshole (loveable asshole, but still). But more relevantly, Trazyn represents a philosophy Orikan understandably cannot stand. Trazyn represents the past, memory, preservation. None of those things have served Orikan well. Necrontyr society kind of sucked (early deaths to cancer or dying in a war were about the only options). And that was before it fundamentally failed him specifically. Plus, preservation and stasis are anathema to what a chronomancer devotes themselves to being able to do. So yeah, Trazyn may be a genius in his field equal to Orikan, but Orikan does not respect that field, so he can never admit it.

Orikan embodies the "want vs need" principle of character writing. He wants a companion and an equal. He needs to accept that those will not come in the form he expects or even likes. He's nowhere near doing that and it's *deliciously tragic*

How can I not love this hyper-competent, lonely nerd with a tsundere streak and strong motivation to Burn Society to the Ground?

I've been rambling too long, I'm cutting myself off before I start going off about the relationship between Orikan and Imotekh which is admittedly based way less on canon (have they even been in a scene together ever?) and way more my own interpretation and extrapolation.

I'll probably talk about writing other characters too, I love these undead robot idiots to much to shut up

[mariacallous]

Al Qaeda has set up nine new terrorist camps in Afghanistan in 2024, a sign of the Taliban’s increasing tolerance of terror groups in their backyard in spite of pledges to crack down, according to an Afghan resistance leader visiting Washington this week. 

“These are training centers; these are recruitment centers,” said Ali Maisam Nazary, the top diplomat for Afghanistan’s National Resistance Front (NRF) based in the country’s Panjshir Valley north of Kabul. “The Taliban have even allowed al Qaeda to build bases and munitions depots in the heart of the Panjshir Valley. [That’s] something unheard of, something impossible even in the 1990s for al Qaeda to have achieved.” 

Nazary said that since the fall of Afghanistan to the Taliban in August 2021, just before the complete withdrawal of U.S. troops from the country, terror groups including al Qaeda, the Islamic State’s Khorasan branch, Tehrik-e Taliban Pakistan (TTP), and the Islamic Movement of Uzbekistan have exploded in size and scope, as the country’s unguarded borders have allowed foreign fighters from Arab countries, Central Asian neighbors, and Europe to pour into Afghanistan. Nazary said that 21 known terror groups are currently operating inside the country.

“We’re seeing all the lights are blinking red,” said Doug Livermore, a former U.S. Navy official and a member of the Special Operations Association of America. The United Nations believes that al Qaeda has training camps in at least 10 of Afghanistan’s 34 provinces, even as the Taliban publicly deny that the terror group has a presence in the country. 

The movement of al Qaeda forces into the Panjshir Valley—long a stronghold of the NRF—has been a shock to the resistance, which still controls about 60 percent of the area to the Taliban’s 40 percent, according to Nazary.

Al Qaeda leader Saif al-Adel has explicitly called for foreign fighters to migrate to Afghanistan and prepare to attack the West. The Special Inspector General for Afghanistan Reconstruction, a U.S. government watchdog group, said in a July report that though the Taliban have targeted the Islamic State and some other groups, the fundamentalist organization has tolerated the presence of al Qaeda and TTP. 

Terror groups control much—if not all—of Afghanistan’s border, Nazary said. “Al Qaeda didn’t have any presence in northern Afghanistan in 2001,” he said. “Today, al Qaeda has a presence throughout the country, and the other terrorist forces.” The country has become an “open black market” of leftover weapons, many of them American, he added. 

“The Taliban is having the same problem that we did for 20 years,” Livermore said. “You can control the core, you can control the ring road—to an extent. But then once you start looking out from there, particularly in the east and some of that rough terrain, that seems to be where they [the Islamic State] have managed to establish a pretty solid base of operations.” 

Nazary described the relationship between the Taliban and terror groups as “ironclad,” suggesting the group had even provided passports to allow foreign terrorist fighters into the country. The same U.N. report in July said that the Islamic State’s Khorasan branch has facilitators in both Afghanistan and Turkey who can move terrorist fighters into Europe to conduct attacks. 

But some experts are doubtful that the NRF’s message will resonate in Washington. “They are refusing to acknowledge that it’s not 2001 anymore,” said Michael Kugelman, the director of the South Asia Institute at the Wilson Center in Washington. “They don’t recognize that, quite frankly, the U.S. and other Western capitals are not interested in getting dragged into a conflict in Afghanistan. There’s no interest in providing arms or money to anti-Taliban groups.”

U.S. intelligence officials are skeptical—at least publicly—about the extent to which Afghanistan could become a terrorist launching pad. The CIA remains in contact with the Taliban in an effort to stanch terror activities, the agency’s deputy director, David Cohen, said at a conference in Maryland on Wednesday, and he said that U.S. intelligence was able to tip Austrian authorities to an Islamic State threat against a planned Taylor Swift concert in Vienna earlier this month. 

“We have been engaging with them, all throughout this period, in various ways, as they have taken on the effort to combat both al Qaeda and ISIS-K,” Cohen said of the U.S. contact with the Taliban, using a common acronym for the Islamic State’s Khorasan branch. “And so this isn’t a ‘mission accomplished’ sort of thing. But it is worth noting that in Afghanistan today, the dire predictions have not come to pass.”

Kugelman said the NRF is trying to leverage growing U.S. concerns about terrorism risks stemming from Afghanistan and the Taliban’s harsh crackdown on women’s rights and perceived political opponents. But, he said, it doesn’t have the power to challenge the Taliban head-on.

“I do think that the NRF might perhaps overstate the dangers in Afghanistan, particularly when it comes to terrorism risks, in order to make a stronger case for support,” he said. “I’d also argue that at the end of the day, the Taliban really does not face any threat at all to its political survival.”

[danime25]

Mistletoe Kiss

ao3 // normal masterlist // christmas masterlist

*Summary: Holly has official called her father uncool. And now he needs to buy some new clothes for his holiday party.

*Rating: E for Everyone

*Content/Tags: Fluff

*Status: Oneshot/Complete

Holland turned up the volume of the song in his car. Up until then he hadn’t been in a very festive mood. He sang along with John Lennon’s bits in the song, leaving Yoko Ono’s scratchy voice alone. He honked his horn as some idiot stole his parking spot from right out under him and he made a loop around the mall parking lot one more time. He ended up finding a spot closer to the door, thank Nixon for that. He got out of his car and strolled into the mall. He did a lap around the mall without an idea where to go clothes shopping. Holly had told him that he needed to get “cool clothes” that made him look more professional. He decided to roll the dice on one of the anchor stores of the mall and went to the men’s section. He looked through a couple of jackets and didn’t see much of a difference between what he wore on the regular and what was on the racks

“Excuse me, sir?”

“What?” Holland turned around quickly at the sound of a woman’s voice behind him. He leaned up against the coats before realizing that the clothes were not solid and he stumbled to the side

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry.” She apologized and helped Holland back up onto his feet

“You’re fine. What did you need?” He brushed himself off and tried to act cool

“Well, I was going to ask if you needed some help.”

“And now?”

“... And now I’m still wondering if you need some help with picking some clothes out.” She laughed a little bit, hiding her smile behind the back of her hand. Holland’s body eased up and he got to laughing too

“Um, I think I’m ok…” He started to reply automatically but stopped himself. “Actually I have no idea what I’m doing.”

“I can tell. The 60’s called. They want their floral print back.”

“Ouch.” He stumbled back with purpose this time, acting as if he’d been shot by her comment. She rolled her eyes at him, “Not a humorous person?”

“Oh no, I’ll laugh when I think something’s funny.” She replied, “Now how can I help you with your clothes?”

“Well my daughter said I needed something ‘cool but professional’.”

“I see.” She looked him up and down. He thought his current ensemble was okay with his white suit jacket combo and light blue shirt. He had a floral print handkerchief in his coat pocket, but she couldn’t have noticed that small a detail on his person. “Follow me, if you will.”

“Okay.” Holland followed her to a different section within the men’s department

“How do you prefer your fit?”

“What?”

“Do you prefer shirts that are loose on you, or more form-fitting?” She asked him, holding up different styles of shirts to emphasize her point

“I mean I tend to tuck all my shirts in anyways…” He hummed

“Form fitting.” She talked over his musing and handed him a pile of clothes that she thought would fit him, “And now pants.”

“What about shorts?” He joked. She did not find this nearly as funny as he did. She took him across the hallway and into the men’s pants, grabbing only three pairs this time. Then she dragged him over to the accessories.

“Give me your wrist really quick.” She held her hand out before him. He dropped the clothes onto the ground and put an arm for her. She held up two watches, one band that was silver and one that was gold. “Warm undertones…”

“So that means?” Holland looked at her as she touched his hand

“It means that gold complements your skin better. No wonder you looked so dull when you walked in. There’s silver in your suit jacket buttons.”

“Oh.” He responded and looked at her, “Should I go try this on?”

“Here.” She picked up the heap between the two of them. “Try… these two together first.”

“Have a little fashion show?” He smiled at her

“I should really help some other customers…” She sighed, as promising as that sounded

“Okay, I’ll be quick then.” He smiled at her and hopped into a dressing room nearby. He put on the outfit she arranged and looked at himself in the mirror. Not too bad, but it didn’t feel quite like Holland. He walked out in it and she could sense his trepidation about the outfit. 

“Next one.” She replied. He turned back around and into the dressing room, putting on the next outfit for her. He walks out and she gives him a quick thumbs up. Someone approaches behind her and points her in the other direction, probably her boss.

“So sorry sir, I can help you if you’d like.” He offered

“I can just wait.” Holland replied

“She has to go help other customers, sir.” He huffed

“Okay.” Holland sighed back and got into the clothes he wore into the store. He brought the set up to the register and saw her handling a return with a difficult customer. The lady threw her sweater at the employee and stormed off. The other cashier offered to take him at least 3 times before she got the hint that he wanted to talk with her coworker. When he strolled up she gave him a soft half smile as she rang the items up. “So listen, my company is going to have a holiday party in a couple of days and I was wondering if you’d like to come along as my date.”

“Oh.” She smiled, “Well I’d like for us to have a real date first. If you don’t mind.”

“That’s fine with me.” He shot back with a quick wink

“Okay.” She smiled and grabbed a business card the boss kept around behind the counter. She quickly scribbled down her phone number for him.

“Are you free tonight?” He asked her, twirling the card in between his fingers

“Yes, I get off at 6.”

“Alright I’ll see you then. Thanks for the help.”

“You’re welcome.” She smiled at him

---

He waited outside the mall and leaned against his car. He parked in the lot that was closest to the department store and waited for her. He had managed to find a place to run quick and get his car cleaned off while he waited for her. He saw her walk out of the entrance and pulled his car up to the curb. He got out and held the door open for her before she got in.

“What are we doing?” She asked him

“I don’t know.” He admitted, “Are you hungry?”

“I could go for some food.” She replied

“Alright. Let me take you somewhere nice.” He started the car back up and headed into downtown Los Angeles. He brought her to an Italian restaurant that was pretty nice and they talked until the owner had to hint with the bill that they stayed longer than they should have. On their way out she pointed out that there was a little mistletoe leaf hanging above the entrance way.

“Well it’s only in the spirit of Christmas, right?”

“Yes.” He nodded along with her and waited as her lips met with his for a brief second. He pulled her gently out onto the street and kissed her with more passion the second time they made contact with each other. He opened his eyes and looked at her to see how she was feeling about it. She took his bum arm and used it to wrap around her shoulders as they started walking back to Holland’s car.

[elvenlia]

I found a pintrest post of a writing prompt & I made a continuation/ ending. All credits to the original posters idea.

Continuation;;

Both men, now grey with age, took a long moment to stare at one another. Though their bodies had wrinkled and ached, their spirits could still be seen within their eyes. Bilbo's nearly welling with tears in this moment. As when he looked to Fili, he seen Thorin. Fili had done honor to the Durin name as he stepped up to take the throne after his uncles tragic death.

"Do come in, come in-" Bilbo snapped from his daze and gestured to Fili to enter his home.

"What do I owe this visit?" Though Bilbo didn't need to ask, he knew why he came.

Over the years it had become common for Fili to randomly show up at Bilbo's door. At first Bilbo didn't understand. It didn't take long for Bilbo to catch on that Fili comes to him, to his home, for comfort. There was solace within the Baggins home where all those many years ago the dwarfs gathered at his table, ate, drank, sang tunes and discussed a dream.

" Can I not visit an old friend without being questioned?" Fili chuckled lightly, the light hearted gesture never quiet reaching his eyes.

Truth was, Fili was growing tired. His mind often wandered, his heart ached to be reunited with his bother and uncle once more. He often found himself wishing it was Kili who lived. Who took the throne and got to continue his life, he could have done it with grace. He would have lived on easily. Where Fili did not live, but dragged on. The weight heavy on his shoulders.

As the Dwarf King stepped further into the Hobbits home, his steps faltered at the dinning room. It looked the same, Bilbo never changed it. And Fili could practically see all the dwarfs gathered around the table, he could hear them. Hear his brothers laughter as he tossed a bread roll across the table and at his head. He could envision his uncle watching them with the smallest of grins himself as he ate. He could hear Thorins deep voice singing a tune of their people as it echoed throughout the home-

"Of course you can." Bilbo patted Fili on the back as he gestured to the sitting room. "Though I wish you'd send me a letter before, it's a long journey to the shire. What if something happened to you along the way? Hm?" Bilbo muttered, practically scolding the King as Fili took a seat on his sofa.

Fili didn't mind a scolding, it actually warmed his heart. In a way, he had started looking to Bilbo as family, almost like an uncle.

"Yes, yes, you are right." He chuckled, this time with more feeling behind it, his lips twitching into the smallest of smiles.

"Here- " Bilbo came back into the room with two tea cups of freshly made tea, taking a seat across from the dwarf.

Fili sipped his tea, both sitting in the silence for a long moment. Though Fili couldn't sit in the silence to long, he thoughts would only grow louder and louder until they drove him mad.

"I miss them, Bilbo..." Fili sighed, sitting his tea down on the small table beside him.

"I know. I miss them as well..." Bilbo's tone was low, his eyes dipping down to watch the soft ripples in his tea after to took a long sip.

"It's been 60 years." Fili took a pause, running a hand through his golden mane. "60 years without them... I'm growing tired, Bilbo."

He didn't need to voice that for Bilbo to see, he could tell by the droop of the dwarfs shoulders and the way his hair no longer shinned as it once did.

"I am going to pass on the crown." Fili spoke again, his voice more stern and serious now. His eyes glowing with a new found determination and ... peace.

"I am going to pass on the crown and relive our journey once again. Walk the same path as I once had with my kin."

"Fili- " Bilbo started though his words died on his tounge as he seen a twinkle in Fili's eyes he hadn't seen in a long time. He knew the dwarfs mind was set.

"Once the journey has finished, my mind will be free and I can meet my brother and uncle in peace..." Tears beaded in Fili's eyes as he spoke.

Bilbo clutched his tea cup tightly between his fingers, the china nearly trembling.

"Starting here, I take it?"

The dwarf smile sheepishly as he nodded. "Starting here." He repeated.

After their talk, it was time for Fili to leave along his journey. Bilbo stood at his old green door as he bid him a farewell. His chest felt heavy and his stomach churned as he watched him go. He knew there would be no more unexpected visits from the Dwarf King, he was loosing another...

[pacifymebby]

t r o u b l e / chapter twenty three

Masterlist

London looked herself in the early morning, the first rays of sunlight awash over dirty gray-scale tower blocks. The shards ugly head rising up on the horizon. So much corporate, artless grime around the city center that by the time Isaiah pulled up round the back of the 60s brutalist block Sonya and I lived in, I was almost relieved.

I knew these streets well, I felt a rekindling in my nerves. The feeling of returning home.

Only now it didn't feel quite like home.

"What is it love I told you we need to be quick... Could be..."

"Being watched," I said plainly, gazing up at the window I knew belonged to me. My eyes plain when I saw my hanging Ivy shadowy behind the glass. "But by who?" I asked in a ghostly tone, mocking him with rolled eyes so that had I not still had a gun I was sure he'd have changed his mind.

"Enough of that," he grumbled, "not dyin in this scummy fuckin city cause you weren't payin attention..."

"So wait here," I shrugged my shoulder stepping away from him and hurrying up the stairs to the front door where my key still fit the lock and inside the lobby the guard recognised me.

"Mornin Syl," he smiled warmly, "where ya been? Was beginnin to get the Freds bout ya," he said, one hand tapping his box of cigs on the desk, the other concealed.

"Hi Laurie," I said doing my best to replicate the sweet smile he'd seen almost every day for several years. "No Freds for me please," I added just as cute.

"Anyone called for her?" Asked Isaiah then, his voice a little too blunt and a little too rough for a man as old and as gentle as Laurie.

"Nah," said Laurie, "been propa quiet last few days...why? Yous expectin a visitor?"

"Nah," I said shrugging my shoulder, knowing that if anyone had been, Laurie wouldn't have noticed anything strange about them. He was a gentle old soul and an easily fooled old man. Take me for example, he thought I was the sweetest girl in London and why? Because I said hello to him every morning without fail.

"Saiahs gettin confused, had a long drive haven't you," I said glaring at Isaiah until he started playing along, "he's just tired."

"This your fella?" Asked Laurie, eyes flickering over Isaiah who was growing more edgy with every second the conversation dragged on for.

"Don't have a fella Laurie," I said parroting the advice he'd always given me, "never have an never will."

"Atta girl," he grinned with a chuckle, his smirk lingering when Isaiah took my elbow and pushed me away to the lifts. As the doors closed Laurie rolled his eyes and I smirked biting down on my smile, hands reaching for my gun as the lift shunted into action.

"Chances he's lyin?" Asked Isiah watching the light flickering between the slight crack in the lift doors as we moved between floors. A shadow flashing slow blink on and off.

"Zero," I said, my fingers curling around my gun, readying myself because I knew that when we reached our floor we might find ourselves face to face with dangerous strangers. "But if someone's lied to him he'll have believed every word they've said..."

"Oh good," he said, "an honest idiot, fuckin great..."

"Use your head Saiah, if someone came lookin for us they'd have fucked off when they realised they were too late.."

"Maybe they're patient,"

"Maybe you're a pessimist." I said when the 'ift doors opened to reveal a quiet hallway, everything untouched.

Our front door was at the end of the narrow corridor. The cleaners had been in and everything smelt a little like an old woman's bathroom, that strange clinging soap and talc scent which lingered in your nostrils. Almost nostalgic but a little too floral to make you smile.

"See," I said turning my key in the lock, listening for movement on the other side of the door, hearing nothing and feeling smug because Isaiah was still standing tense behind me.

"I'll go first.." he said pushing me out the way before I could protest, apparently ignoring the fact that had someone behind that door wanted to harm us they'd have shot straight through it.

"If someone wanted to kill us we'd already be..." I trailed off looking down at my feet on the doormat because I'd trodden on something. I dipped to pick a piece of paper which had been torn hastily from a gridlined notebook. "Dead.." I finished my sentence, the word quiet as I stopped thinking about Isaiah and the house and started concentrated on the handwriting in front of me. It was a rushed scrawl, unfamiliar to me but not, I was sure, to Sunny.

"Saiah!" I called out to him when I realised he wasn't still waiting with me in the hallway. I could hear doors opening and closing and I knew he was giving the place a once over, still not trusting the quiet.

But I couldn't trust the quiet now either.

"Si!" I called to him again, eyes locking with his when he rounded the corner, gun out and ready as if he thought I had company.

"Fuckin put it away soft cunt," I smirked, "I think Freddie Sabini's dead..."

"Who?" He frowned sparking an irritation in me which caught me by surprise. I didn't know Freddie Sabini, what was it to me if he lived or died. And yet Isaiah's ignorance to my sister's heartbreak left me gritting my teeth to stop me slapping him across the face.

"Sunny's boyfriend," I said handing him the note, letting him read it, hoping he'd tell me I was wrong, knowing he wouldn't.

"They're fuckin savages," he said shaking his head, his brow etched deep, a look of snarled disgust on his face when he handed the note back to me.

We won't see each other again my darling, just know you have always been dear to me. I know you'll hate me for asking but go back to your family before mine find you. I love you now and always, F.

"See this is why Tommy wanted you home... So he could keep you safe... For fuck sake Sylvia!" He snapped, his temper dropping disgust to despair SK sudden that for a second I was speechless, starring back ar him, this numb feeling in my fingers and chest as I watched him feel all the things I should have been.

"Jesus Christ what have I done?" He turned away from me, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose as his face scrunched with frustration.

I swallowed and pressed the tips of my teeth to one another, watching him and then ignoring him, brushing past him into my bedroom to retrieve my pointe shoes, taking Sunny's from her bedroom too hoping she would need them soon.

I felt cold. Cold fingers brushing the back of my neck as I thought about Freddie. I'd never seen the lad in person but I'd seen him drinking in the west end with his cousins and his university friends. He'd always been one of this slicked back hair kind of lads, the boat shoes, the casual shirt and dress trousers. He looked like he'd been watching the sopranos or listening to too much late stage Arctic Monkeys, but it suited him and the crowd he ran with. He certainly looked the part.

When I returned to the hallway Isaiah was waiting for me, gun in his hand. He was leaning back against the wall with his eyes on the ceiling. He was muttering something which sounded like a prayer. Trying to forgive himself for betraying Tommy. For bringing me here. As if I'd given him a choice.

"Let's go," I said nodding to the door. When he looked back at me and saw the pairs of battered shoes his jaw hung slack for a moment.

"What?"

"Don't tell me we risked coming back here for a pair of fuckin slippers..." he breathed, his eyes glowing with a tiredness, a tiredness with me. I was wearing him out but I didn't feel guilty. This was just what had to be done and I was the only one with the balls to do it.

"Alright we didn't risk coming back here for my ballet slippers," I said plainly, turning to walk for the door, only stopping because he told me to, his hand on my shoulder just in case.

"Let me go first.

🌸🦢🌸

"Sylvia love I know you ain't listenin to me but..." Started Isaiah as he crouched down to check the bottom of the car for anything which could have been planted whilst we were inside. The lad was suspicious to the point of paranoia but I couldn't blame him. Not now I knew that Freddie was almost definitely dead. That he'd been killed in cold blood by his own family, his uncle, perhaps his brothers.

I kept thinking about my own brothers. Would they do the same?

"Don't be such a pessimist," I shrugged opening the car door, getting comfortable whilst I waited for him.

I looked down at Freddie's note again, chewing my cheek as I thought about Sunny. About how I was going to tell her. Whether there was any point in trying to break it to her gently. She'd always been a delicate girl and I wasn't sure how much more heartache she could take. What would happen if she slipped like I did. Would she slip just the same as me or would it be different for her, would it hurt in different places. Would she go numb, would she be able to shut down so as not to be destroyed by the feeling. Or would it hurt her the same way it hurt Arthur, would she spend the rest of her life trembling on the verge of crisis because she couldn't control the grief.

I sucked my cheek in and opened the car door about to tell Isaiah to hurry up when he sat himself down beside me and started trying to talk sense to me once again.

"Know you think you know what you're doing love but Alfie Solomons ain't like your brother... He's..."

"Certifiable, I know..."

"So..."

"So what? All the more reason to appeal to his emotional side..."

"He don't have an emotional side love he's a fuckin psychopath,"

"Been lettin rumours spook you love," I said with a small smirk, checking the reflection in the wing mirror with low expectations. I took my iPod out of the glove compartment and scrolled through the music. I only had a few tracks on it because it was the one I used exclusively for training. For rehearsing my sister's steps, perpetual understudy as I was.

"I just don't understand what you think you're gonna be able say to him that Tommy ain't already fuckin tried!"

"Tommy hasn't tried." I shrugged my shoulders placing my headphones over my ears, blocking his protests out with a lamenting violin.

Knowing that it wasn't what I was going to say to Alfie Solomons that would count.

🌸🦢🌸

Alfie Solomons, unlike the rest of the London organised crime leaders, preferred to hide in plain sight. That is to say he'd always preferred to be on the ground, running things as he saw them. While everyone else had put up skyscrapers, running construction and luxury night clubs, he remained in Camden Town, down by the docks which were only still running at all because he insisted on it.

He kept his office in the brewery and he could often be seen walking down by the canal with his dog, a gentle giant of a creature. He owned the market and most of the bars by the water, knew half the wannabe rockstars and celebrities in the city but wasn't on friendly terms with hardly any. He had a reputation for being a bit of a miser, a loner who didn't like small talk and didn't care much for anyone but himself. He'd earned himself quite the reputation as a mad man, a ruthless psychopath who'd put an end to so many lives he'd lost track of where the bodies were buried.

As it was I hadn't been expecting to be welcomed to the brewery in the way that we were. Hadn't expected the doors to open or for Ollie to nod to me, holding my gaze with a purpose. As if he'd been expecting to see me. As if he already knew the nature of my visit. But he did and when he lead us through the factory, between the brewhouses and silver tanks to Alfie's office, my skin began to bristle with an intuition.

"Mr Solomons doesn't usually like to be disturbed without notice..." Said Ollie before he tapped on glass of the office door, "however.."

From behind the door came the echo of a cane on hardwood floor.

"Alright Ollie my sweet," Alfie said, "if they wanted the enchantin introduction to my impeccable character they shoulda read my Wikipedia shouldn't they..." He called from behind the glass, his voice rough and yet almost melodic with his humour.

"What I'm sayin right sweetheart, is they ain't got all day an neither have I, if they're gonna ruin my fakin mornin the least they can do is have the common curtacy right, to be fuckin quick about it..."

I couldn't help but smirk, trying my best to bite down the snigger which rose inside me at the sight of Ollie's reddening cheeks. I could feel Isaiah's eyes on me but I refused to look back at him, refused to behave as if I was scared. Not when I'd dragged him with me this far.

In truth Alfie did scare me. Even now when I could hardly feel a thing. It wasn't his reputation for being a little unhinged. It was that I knew he wasn't. That he played up to his eccentricities to set people on edge, to make sure no one ever knew where they stood with him.

"For the love of god don't piss him off Shelby girl..." Said Ollie, his voice whispered and rushed so that Alfie couldn't hear him and chastise him anymore.

I did my best to neutralise my expression before he pushed the door open and let us enter. When I heard it close behind us however I felt that all too familiar cold set in. The chill down my spine, spreading to my fingers. Everything heavy, every part of my body slowly distancing itself from me.

"Well well little Shelby we are in trouble..."

Alfie was sitting behind his desk, his white t-shirt and combat trousers an uncanny contrast to the antique furniture which held him. A chair remarkably ornate in contrast to his heavy set build and his rough features.

He looked smug but only for a second, his slow forming scowl set deeper into his brow with every second which passed quietly between us.

"Usually right, when your big brother comes down here you can't shut him up..." He started, taking a pair of spectacles from where they hung on a chain around his neck and placing them on his nose. "Nah, y'cant shut your Tommy up for love nor money and believe me I've tried.... we've all tried..." he trailed off with a sigh, a distance feigned in his eyes before he turned back to me, precise, fingers interlinked as he leant forward on his desk.

"So Little Shelby - you really are in a lot of trouble y'know poppet - why don't you try old Toms shoes on for size yeah? Let's have a natter..."

I had the feeling of being studied, not just studied the way my brother did when he thought we were lying, not just studied the way Pol did when she was reading palms, but studied as in scrutinized. As if he could see through my dead eyes. I wasn't a fraud but he made me feel as though I had something to hide.

I chewed my cheek, hesitated just long enough for Isaiah to mistake my silence for sudden loss.

"Mr Solomons thank you for..."

"Oh I'm sorry, my apologies sunshine, my meaning must have been somewhat misconstrued... See that invite to natter yeah, that invite was exclusive right, between me and the little gypsy girl..."

Isaiah opened his mouth to speak again but before any words left his lips Alfie had raised s silencing hand and dismissed him.

"That means zip it soldier," he said his eyes never once meeting Isaiahs, only ever locked firmly with mine, "or I shall have to send you to wait outside be like you're back in school yeah... Not that I should imagine a peaky fuckin blinder could have spent much time in school?"

"You're my brother's friend Mr Solomon's, if you want to remain my brother's friend you should consider treating his friends with respect too," I said unable to take the smirk off my face when both men scowled. Isaiah scowling, his cheeks flushing with humiliation because the idea of a girl standing up for him probably horrified him. Alfie scowling because the idea of a girl standing up to him probably horrified him.

"Ahh, she speaks... the little gypsy girl speaks," Alfie smiled slowly, his grin a little too wide as he lent back in his chair and held his hands up in front of him, an impressed gesture as if presenting me to the room. I didn't smile, didn't say a word. Just starred him down with the dead eyes he'd recognise to be my brothers. "She speaks but she doesn't smile," he chuckled, "here, soldier boy... reckon she wants me to think she's just like her big brother don't she... is she?" He asked Isaiah. He wasn't looking at me, talking about me as if I wasn't even there. As if I couldn't hear his projected stage whisper.

Isaiah stood still and silent. His eyes were steely and fixed on Alfie, not threatening but determined to remain loyal to me. To my brother.

I decided to ignore them both. Took the iPod and the earphones from my pocket and stepped up to Alfie's desk. I moved slowly and though when he saw me approach I saw his hand dip to the drawer where he kept his gun, I didn't hesitate. Carried on moving with a purpose towards him.

"You don't need that yet," I said with a smirk, struggling to keep a steady hand as I placed my fingers on top of his and pushed the drawer shut.

I was aware of his eyes on me then. How he hesitated to at the touch of my hand. How he looked up at me and leant back in his chair, eyes flickering over my body, appraising me. He smirked, his hand left the drawer and returned to the desk, fingers drumming on the wood as I took the earphones I'd carried in my pockets and gave them to him.

He watched me the whole time, expression hard to read. He was trying very hard to work something out. Trying very hard not to smile at me.

"I've seen you you know, at the opera house..." I started, my voice soft and low, "You have your own box and you sit there like a shadow all alone... The girls say you use the ballet as an alibi but I don't really think that's true.."

"Ain't it now?" He asked his own voice quiet, as though I'd taken him a little by surprise, he sounded thoughtful and when I met his gaze I could tell it was me being contemplated by the older man who looked at me with such suspicion and warmth.

"You aren't always in shadow Mr Solomons, an I've seen you after the encore... Tears in your eyes cause of my sister... The girls call you Eric, our very own opera ghost..." I said, teasing him as I took the earphones from his hands and began to untangle them. I was aware of Isaiah's eyes on me too. Aware of a rising tension I'd been composing since my arrival.

I could tell that when I spoke some of my words lingered like mist around the older man's ears.

"What an you think your twin sister's my Christine? That what you take me for yeah sweetheart? Fuckin creepy old man?" He was trying to laugh, trying to put me off but he would never win at this game. We were in my territory now.

"No," I shrugged with a plain little smirk, held his gaze for a moment before shrugging my shoulders, refusing to let his hint at a temper bother me, "actually we've always been quite fond of you..." I said placing one earphone in his left ear, letting my fingers skim his cheek, letting them brush through his hair as I worked.

He sat back in his chair, fingers walking over the faded surface, his eyes fixed on me, watching me, his lips pressed together in a thin, controlled line.

When he narrowed his eyes I held his gaze knowing that he was waiting for me to look away. But I wouldn't.

"Count down from five and press play," I said setting the track back to the beginning. Leaving the room in silence as I locked eyes with him and then turned. Skipped to the center of the old Persian rug in the middle of the room. "Isaiah get the light."

Alfie raised his hand.

"The light stays on." He growled to Isaiah. His eyes however were fixed on me. It was I who felt the threat behind them as I readied myself in the center of the rug.

"Mr Solomon's," I said with a small smirk, "you aren't afraid of the dark when you're sitting all alone in box 5."

Taglist:

@elina-777

@zablife

@jomarch-wannabe

@itsghostgirlyo

@marwwfairy

@toddlerbodybag

@impossibleheartflower

@call-sign-shark

[mooodyblue]

Hi I have a little E request where Elvis is little and he reads a magazine where it says he has a new girl or something and he gets mad and rips up the picture of him and the other girl when asked why he says because it’s not mommy

hope i didn't drag this one on too much, thank you for the request! enjoy! 🫶🏼

no! | little!60s!elvis x cg!reader

warnings: agere, little space, angst

wc: 691

masterlist

everything was going fine today. you were sat with elvis on the couch catching up on some reading while he did the same, reading a magazine he was on the cover of. "people really write some rubbish in these things..." he scoffed.

you glanced over at him then back at your book. "i don't know why you read those things. you say the same thing everytime you read them."

"well, i gotta know what they're sayin' about me. i'm curious."

you rolled your eyes and went back to your book. anytime you caught elvis reading the paper or a magazine with an article on him, it always ended with him angry at some rumor someone started about him. there was no way for you to hide the magazines either, he'd find his own way to get ahold of them whether you kept them from him or not.

elvis turned the page, eyes widening at the large photo of him and another woman with the headline 'ELVIS AND HIS NEW WOMAN!'. he felt his cheek get hot, his jaw clenching as he read the full article. "no...." he muttered. flipping the page again, there was another photo of him and the same woman, a costar from a movie he had recently worked with. "no! no! no!" he yelled.

you closed your book immediately and looked over at him, "what is it?" you braced yourself for another rant from elvis as always, but you could tell something was different this time.

he refused to hand you the magazine, eyes glued to the photo of him and his co-star. people loved to write about elvis and the many women he's been with in public, claiming that were dating or engaged. to the press, he was pretty much dating every single woman he ever came in contact with and it angered elvis to see them write about him in that way. it was far from the truth, he loved you and only you. you cared for him like nobody else could. whether it was being with him on set, letting him cry on your shoulder when things got overwhelming or taking care of him when he was in his headspace, you were always there for him.

"elvis, let me see the magazine." you asked nicely.

"no!" he gripped the magazine tightly, fists red as he refused to let go.

"elvis." you said again, but sternly. "hand me the magazine."

he shook his head, eyes getting cloudy as they welled up with tears. right as you finally got a good look at the photo, he tore the pages out and ripped them angrily, throwing the magazine against the wall. "it's not true! it's all trash!"

he'd gotten angry about a lot of things people say about him, but you'd never seen him so worked up about something as small as this. "elvis, honey. it's just another rumor! i know it's not true, you know that!"

"no!" he shouted. "t-thats not-!

"then what's got you so worked up? c'mon baby, talk to me." you said softly, holding his hands in your lap.

he looked at you, suddenly feeling smaller with a different look in his eyes. a look of vulnerability and sadness. "because it's not you." he sniffled. "that's n-not you-that's not my mommy."

you sighed and pulled him closer allowing him to snuggle up to you. "oh baby boy, it's okay." you rubbed his arm up and down softly. "you know how much mommy loves you. she loves you so much. she knows how much you care for her and how you don't want her to fall for those silly rumors. isn't that right, buntyn?"

elvis nodded, feeling himself fall deeper into his headspace. "buntyn thinks mommy's gonna leave. don't wanna be alone."

"sweetheart," you cupped his face. "mommy is never leaving you, ever. not today, not tomorrow and not in a million years. she doesn't care what silly piece of paper says, she's not leaving your side."

"still love me?"

you tapped his nose with the tip of your finger, smiling softly at him. "to the moon and back, baby. always."

[that-darn-clown]

so, had a thought about the Best Timeline in the Rewrite (aka No One Dies)

i had the very funny idea of Chuck E. Cheese and Showbiz Pizza existing within the Fnaf universe, thus meaning that William and Henry probably knew about Mr. Aaron Fechter, maybe even met the guy in that alternate timeline. i'd like to think they might've even respected each other's work.

then modern day rolls around, and Aaron decides to Be The Way He Is (you know exactly what i mean). maybe it's when Aaron releases Billy Bob singing "I'm Not Gay." either way, maybe a thread gets started on how badly Aaron sucks on Twitter, and upon someone explaining things to him, Henry just replies "Coward." when people in the thread asked for Elaboration, Henry replied with a thread of his own, just reiterating "COWARD". in this thread, Henry just shares a lot of old concept art.

and All of it is just queer stuff. things with the animatronics that Henry and William just. couldn't openly do at the time. Freddy and Bonnie kissing and being Silly Lil Guys. Fredbear leaning on O'Hare with the text "husbands <3" above them. a little drawing of Chica holding a pizza going "And Pa said a rooster can't cook! ...Well, I ain't a rooster anymore, but still-" and the list keeps going.

everyone lost their shit.

Henry comes out as trans and pansexual. William comes out as nonbinary ("I mean...for me, it should've been obvious when I made O'Hare Like That, and also made their gender vague...probably should've realized something was up with me then."). people start pointing out that, in the old "Fredbear & Friends!" show that Foxy used to be the one who "cross-dressed"/did drag a lot, and even did so Happily. they ask Henry if that meant anything, and he basically goes "Yeah, Foxy had some Genderfuckery™ going on. You can decide what Type of Genderfuckery™, though :)"

the reactions to this are mixed. some people did the whole "Oh, he's just making them queer to be "Woke™"" bullshit, despite people (along with Henry & Will themselves) pointing out the dates on the concept art being in the 60s, 70s, and 80s. other people were either like "Oh, I always thought something queer was going on with those guys" or "Freddy's and/or Fredbear's were how I figured out I was queer."

it was an interesting month on Twitter. Tumblr was also having a good time, i'd say 👍

Freddy's and fazbears family diner enjoyers when the owner drops ancient and extremely rare concept art that has never been seen before (it's all just queer shit)

[captainsspnanon]

C3E60 - reaction

Sooo.....Sam wearing the die costume just guarantees they all roll a shit ton of 20s, right? I know this happened at least once in C2 as well, did it happen all three times he's worn the outfit?

I have MIXED feelings about this episode.

Let's start with the negative first. Not to quote from the shitty parts of the internet, but I'm really starting to get tired of every PC and NPC basically being anti-gods. I know it's different continents than the previous campaigns, with different themes and subjects, but there's just a feeling of Wrongness that 99% of the people in C3 hate the gods, where in C1 and C2 we as the audience had such positive experiences with the gods. It's a level of disconnect that IS story related, but at the same time feels so jarring that at times it's been pulling me out of the story and really being like 'seriously wtf this isn't supposed to be real world religion stuff'.

Have we EVER seen *missionaries* for the gods before?? In any of the campaigns? Maybe I'm forgetting, but it seemed like in C1 everyone was pretty much worship and let worship, let the non-worshipers not worship and no pressure from anyone, EVEN in Vasselheim. C2 had the legal and illegal gods in the Empire, but I don't recall anyone making non-worshipers have to worship the approved gods. No one without religious faith or inclination was pressured to have it. I suppose there was pressure in the Dynasty, but if I recall we really only saw it from Essek? If I'm remembering correctly, then I think it could have been more of a political thing than an actual religion thing. Better to be considered to be worshiping the Luxon than to vocally be neutral or against, just for respect in court. I don't recall seeing the everyday citizens of the Dynasty having a pressure to believe.

My mom joked at the beginning 'christian missionaries' and I immediately shut it down because CR doesn't do that, but then this episode pretty much DID do that, and it felt super SUPER weird and out of place. Again, it's Issylra, where we haven't been before, but to suddenly have this come in after two and half full campaigns, it just feels Off.

Yeah, that's my only 'negative' of my reaction to this episode. I'm really looking forwards to when, hopefully in another 60+ episodes, I'll be able to look back and fully see what Matt was building to and leaning towards, but right now, I cannot see the bigger picture.

OKAY, LET'S TALK POSITIVES.

I'm now 100% sold on Bor'Dor. Whatever I was feeling last episode that had me not connecting? GONE. Bor'Dor is fantastic and I love him. Deni$e is constant hit after hit, no losers here only winners. Very much interested to see what Emily's been hinting about with Prism. Private goal that she's hoping the group will help her with? Considerable interest in theft, to the point of thinking of it as the first option? Building resentment of having to study for her magic versus the scorcerers who are getting it with ease (nicely creating an interesting parallel with Ludinus)? LOVE IT. WANT TO KNOW MORE.

LOTS of lore drops in this episode, but it didn't ever drag for me. Voices from Matt threw me a little bit, the guards at the end were basically just Xandis's voice, and my mom pointed out that Proleff's voice was very very similar to Donnie Boy's. I suppose this is the eventual downside of watching all the campaigns, really starting to notice Matt's repeats more and more. ON THE OTHER HAND THAT STRONG BAD WAS SO PERFECT OMG.

I suppose I should have counted this as a bit of a negative, but a lot of the Abaddina stuff also felt...Off. Well, admittedly, this is coming from a white woman, but something about her physical description just hit a little to close to Mystic Native for me to be super comfortable with it. Being too sensitive? Likely! But it was there.

The more she spoke, the more it felt really cult like, scarily close to the US political landscape at times. Especially because the way she was describing it almost made it sound like she didn't have a problem with the gods per se, just their followers, until Ludinus's speech and suddenly she's a true non-believer and gods much be destroyed. My mom speculates that there was some sort of charm from his voice, I don't know.

.....Also was I the only one who thought that the elemental spirits (i'm not even going to try to find the proper names for them) could be the titans?? I could be WAAAAY off here, but it struck me hard.

The rebellion reminds me SO MUCH of the Knights of Requital from C2, and it's so funny that we're getting something that was so early C2 now in the 60th C3 episode. I think it was Utilitycaster who mentioned that now with the party split they are able to do more low-level campaign stuff that got skipped early on in favor of the Ruidus plot, and yeah - it really is feeling like that, but in the BEST way.

Next episode is going to be CHAOS, and may be LONG. I am expecting lots of casualties, sadly. I wonder if Matt will actually have the 60ish villagers participate, or if there's only going to be a handful that actually ever hit initiative.

[bildad-the-shuhite-official]

Good Omens fanfic recommendations

Ineffable Wives Edition

Brief Omens by justkeeptrekkin on Tumblr: https://justkeeptrekkin.tumblr.com/post/190714740745/an-ineffable-wives-drabble-brief-encounters Ineffable Wives, fem!Crowley, fem!Aziraphale, historical au, 1940s/post WWII, first kiss, pining, featuring absolutely gorgeous fanart

Sweet angel by Quinn_Taeyoung T, 700 words, Ineffable Wives, intimacy, feeding, kissing, fluff, fem!crowley

Nanny Ashtoreth feeds her girlfriend Azira with macarons.

Swept Away by Aunt Agenda T, 1k, Ineffable Wives Victorian AU, fem!Crowley

Crowley is a chimney sweep and meets a beautiful woman during her work hours. Inspired by artwork from the wonderful Whiteley Foster

Understanding by KaytheJay T, 1.4k, femslash, Nanny Ashtoreth, Kidfic, fem!Crowley

Miss Fell and Nanny Ashtoreth go to the park together.

Suits Herself by CelestialArcadia G, 1.5k, ineffable wives, dates, dining at the Ritz, butch Crowley, butch Aziraphale

It's not as if this thing that Aziraphale and Crowley have between them is new, in any sense—but that doesn't stop things from being special, or stop Crowley from being a bit useless about it sometimes.

Drag Me to Hell, Darling by my_heart_of_heart T, 2.7k, reverse AU, ineffable wives, eden, asexual characters, eden, hurt/comfort

“How much trouble could I get in just for asking a few questions?”

_Azira (then still Aziraphale) had pondered this.

“Perhaps,” she said. “Still, wouldn’t you at least let me ask? I’m the one that told you all this in the first place, and as I said, I’d hate for you to get into any trouble.”

Art Paints the Artist by Pathgrith M, 5.6k, Victorian AU, Ineffable Wives, painting, forbidden love, intimacy, sad ending

-Aziraphale encounters her muse when she and Crowley show up for the same art class. After their lesson is finished, Crowley gives Aziraphale a private art lesson.

The Art of Human Nature by IneffableDoll T, 6k, human au, ineffable wives, meet-cute, artist!crowley

Crowley is a painter who has only ever had an eye for nature. That is, until a client named Aziraphale commissions her for a painting to boost her self-confidence, and Crowley discovers that her client is as beautiful as the Earth itself.

Then she goes and catches feelings, because she’s a disaster.

The Long and Winding Road by elfbowie G, 9.9k, ineffable wives, Beatlemania, 60s, concert, pining, mutual pining, unresolved romantic tension

-Aziraphale reluctantly agrees to accompany Crowley to a Beatles concert in 1965, resigned to an evening of rowdy music she's certain she'll hate. Upon listening to the lyrics of the songs, though, she finds that some of them are unexpectedly relatable. Will the angel and demon acknowledge the growing emotional tension between them as the night goes on?

And a Star to Steer Her By by The_Bentley E, 34k, pirate AU, ineffable wives, the arrangement, making up, adventures, smut

Sometimes a demon has to become a pirate to get the attention of the angel who's been ignoring her for a century. Hunting down a relic that could cause humanity trouble was just a bonus.

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

I'm a huge fan of Ineffable Wives so expect more content!

[mysticscrystalrevelation]

Game 10 Concentrated Thurs, June 6 7pm EDT Chicago @ Washington

Starting: WASH: Atkins, Dolson, Edwards, Samuelson, Vanloo (Sykes out with ankle injury, Austin injury rest?) CHI: DeShields, Evans, Mabrey, Reese, Williams

1st Quarter Always GREAT to see former Mystic Elizabeth Williams among a just plain excellent cast of characters for the Sky. Edwards makes good cuts, she's never stagnant. Three straight possessions we find her under the hoop for the easiest $2—forcing the Sky to huddle up and figure out a response. For the first time in quite a few games, the early energy among DC players is HYPE. Stef just twirled Shakira. The best part about home games is obviously the TOP two voices in sports: the legendary, always flawlessly attired Meghan McPeak and Christy Winters-Scott. <3 <3 JVL playing with a wrapped thumb tonight, doesn't appear to be slowing her down. Edwards' jumper gives her 8 after 3 mins, 100% of our scoring power. Karlie joins the fun with a corner 3 undeterred by a leaping Diamond DeShields. Sky with only 3 pts. A miss, a moving screen, and a lost ball from us and the Sky have made up the difference. Shatori, Yish, and Jade in. We're getting some steals and stops but a bit light on offense. Cardoso is fast at 6'7". Refs starting to get frisky with the whistles. Jade misses a free throw, gets her own and puts it right up to end the 1st 21-15.

2nd Quarter I've been thinking it all year and it's time to say it: Dana Evans is not playing around this season. Respectfully, she wasn't messing around last year either but it's a vector not a point, you know? Our bench struggling against good Sky defense to start the 2nd and they tie it up. It's not pretty right now, whistles, misses, no flow both ends. Shatori hypes the crowd up with a move and a jumper. Engstler with some first-half minutes today and gets a block. We find Aaliyah under the hoop next play and it's starting to look more like the first quarter. Eeeeeeverybody touches the ball and Earl downs the trey. Cardoso to Reese just playing above the heads of everyone—can't let that take off. Shatori jukes, pulls up, scores. Cardoso to Reese repeat and Eric calls time to solve it. Starting line returns. JVL is left alone -> layup. Chennedy with some tuff buckets here in the second. JVL finds Edwards, who drops it in and then gets a block on Reese the other way. Still Sky ball and she gets ANOTHER block on Cardoso this time. Ooh Chennedy heating up, getting what she wants. It's 41-35. Aaliyah is 7 of 7. Stef hits a three, closing the half 44-35.

3rd Quarter Patience continues to pay off on O as we eventually get someone lonely under the hoop. Elizabeth Williams out with knee injury (didn't see it) get better quick E! I was wondering about the extended minutes for Cardoso as she's coming back from injury herself. I'd love to see DiDi get in here. Go-go is rocking the house but the Sky get the D and a Mabrey 3. Some consecutive empty possessions and the lead shrinks to 3. We have let go too soon of what was working—slipping a player to the hoop. Aaliyah with a big block hopefully driving a momentum shift. Sky within 1. The hoop is not accepting shots on the DC end. Foul shots give Chicago the lead. A Capital P Painful 16-0 run. Myisha breaks the curse. Jade leaps and goes sliding off into the crowd "safe at third" according to Meghan lol. Edwards making a tough shot here and we're even at 54. Criminally underrated Izzy Harrison with 6 quick points. Turnover and Angel Reese and-1 and we need a timeout with just 50 seconds left in the quarter, dragging by 6 prior to the foul shot. Reese misses the extra but we turn it over right away. 54-60. Only 10 points in the quarter for DC.

4th Quarter Shatori doing all the scoring for us by drawing fouls. We are struggling to get stops the other way. 58-64. A couple Sky misses match ours and things aren't pretty right now. Ariel shows her toughness for 2 and then we get a defensive rebound, but turn it over on a push off. Earl gets the steal and will go to the line after her shot attempt. 61-64 with 5 minutes remaining. Chennedy gets another tough bucket and she has 19 for Chicago. Things are not pretty at all. Back-to-back turns and the Sky's 2-pt lead becomes 6. 2:22 to play. Ugly gets uglier—Earl misses both free throws, Chennedy gets a shot and then we turn it over. We can't seem to find the net. 71-79. We have lost all 10 games! Nothing to say about that at this point. Aaliyah Edwards with a double-double.