#Mob!hudson

[trashcanplant]

Farm Boys

The mob does.. Really fucked up things to farm boys. If you have noticed… closeups under cut..

Hudson Holloway goes to @technicolourcowboy

Vince Vineyard goes to @cloudy-dreams

God they made them so… rrrgggrggr…. Frankenstein’d, Zombie’d, De-Heart’d… ough..

[technicolourcowboy]

Mob-ified another OC B))))

They done turned my boy into Frankenstein’s monster 😔🫰 only it was me I did it

:] I’ve got a whooole thing written about this fool but I’ve had no time to draw :[

Other oc doodles below 😼

The day I make an actual reference sheet for my ocs is the day the sun burns out!!!

Anyways thanks for watching🤠🤠🤠🤠 AS always be sure to like and subscribe if you want to see more this is technicolourcowboy signing off *outro music*

[barbarasegalandassociates]

Stealth wealth. Mob wives-chic. Rich mom energy was the buzz at Sergio Hudson Fall 2024 show at NYFW.

via Vogue.com

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Nobody's Girl - Chapter Three.

Check your girl out over here like Oprah. YOU get another chapter, and YOU get another chapter, and so on! I am seriously so flattered by everyone loving the story so far, and watching you all so rabidly consuming it makes me so very happy :)

With the time off work I have had recently, it's meant the story has virtually written itself, I'm up to chapter eleven in the writing, so what I thought would originally be a shorter series has turned into a longer one, meaning I can update more regularly. Well, I can only hope you like this chapter just as much as the previous two, and if you do, remember to leave me a little comment, or a reblog. You would have my eternal gratitude for doing so!

Previous chapters - One Two

Taglist - In the comments, please DM to be added/removed

Words - 4,300

Warnings - Adult content throughout, minors DNI!

Conversation. With a woman he wasn’t involved with. Truly, Luca couldn’t remember the last time he’d ever enjoyed such, but there he was on an otherwise quiet Thursday night experiencing just that. A soft flurry of snow gently drifted down outside, his apartment the warm cocoon he and Emily sequestered themselves within, sitting on the couch, mostly her sharing stories of her life before she’d literally fallen into his.  

“I remember there was this one time, back when I first got caught up with them, I was taken for a game at this house in Queens. Joey had loaned me to his brother, Giacinto, but of course there was the issue of how he could get me in at the table. So, he made a bet on a bet, I guess you’d call it. Strode in there and announced that he bet each player two hundred bucks they couldn’t beat me in a game of seven card stud.  

“Of course, part of the point of poker is counting cards, but I can do it faster and better, and I did. I won Giacinto five grand in one night, and most of the guys were pissed as hell that I’d beaten them, except for one. He was an older guy, thick glasses, big birthmark on his cheek. He told me I was every man’s worst nightmare, a pretty blonde with a brain, and he respected that.”  

“That’s Jimmy Phelan, Irish mob from Philly,” Luca nodded, quite impressed that she’d grabbed his attention.  

She clicked her fingers in remembrance. “Yeah, Jimmy. That was his name. I’ve met so many wiseguys that it’s hard to keep up with all of the names. I remember the ones who have curious nicknames, like Carmine the Boots, and Duck Foot Silv. I never asked how they got them, though.” 

Luca knew, of course. “Carmine is the boots ‘cuz that’s what he does to those who earn it, fits ‘em with a nice set of concrete boots and sends ‘em off for a swim in the Hudson River. Silvio, they call him duck foot ‘cuz the guy was born with webbed toes.” 

Her eyes widened, leaning forward in her seat. “Have you seen the toes?” 

“I have,” he smirked, scratching his jaw. “He does this trick, sticks a quarter on his big toe and flicks it about ten feet in the air.” 

She snorted with giggles, sipping her drink and catching an ice cube to chew upon. The sound of her cracking it between her teeth did something to his insides that he couldn’t explain, but was very, very pleasant. “I bet he’s a good swimmer too, huh?” 

“Guy don’t need no flippers, that’s for fuckin’ sure.” 

He looked at her for a long moment, enchanted as usual by her loveliness. It was so easy with her. She knew exactly who and what he was, and she just accepted it without fuss, acting unguarded with him, rather than either trying to work him out or shrink in intimidation. It made a nice change, to simply experience a slice of normality like that, and especially with a woman. Most only wanted him for his money or the association of who he was.  

Or his cock. He was famed for having one hell of a nice cock, after a woman he’d bedded had been very loud in her praise of it one time.  

“So yeah, back to Jimmy being nice to me. He gave me a hundred dollars, said I’d earned it, being such a good card player. I was amazed, and I thought the cash was mine to keep, but not according to Giacinto. Copped a huge beating for that assumption, ended up with this.”  

Hooking her finger into her mouth, she pulled her cheek back to reveal the empty gum space where her back teeth should have sat, Luca feeling caustic within. How hard must he have punched her to knock a both a double and fucking wisdom tooth out, he had to wonder, remembering how tough his own had been to have extracted by a dentist.  

“Bastardo,” he hissed, picking up his drink and knocking it back, refilling it. “Ain’t no big man’s game, sluggin’ a broad. You wanna prove you have cojones? Fuckin’ walk up to the biggest fella in the room and crack him in the mouth. S’what I used to do whenever I got thrown in Sing Sing as a kid, not long after I arrived here from England.”  

“Have you ever done serious time for your endeavours?” she asked, lifting the wool shawl where it had slipped from her shoulders, Luca wishing she’d left it. Any chance he got to view more of her beautiful, lily skin, and he shamelessly took it. It had been gnawing at him for the past fourteen days since she’d been there, chewing away at his resolve like a starving wolf.  

Usually, he’d have made his move by now on somebody he coveted. Hell, his record was ten seconds upon seeing a woman he desired, walking up to her and brashly asking a simple, three worded question. “Wanna fuck me?” No woman ever refused him. With Emily, though, because of her sheer loveliness, as tempting as it would be to corrupt, he held himself back.  

It was a fierce internal conflict he waged war with, his rampant libido dictating he simply take her to bed and bounce her on his cock until she screamed his name, the very little morality left within him castigating such, because of how innocent and sweet the girl was. He couldn’t tarnish something that lovely and pure with the infection of his darkness. Until he could come to some resolve, he supposed he’d have to simply deal with the juxtaposition of wanting to cherish her like a princess and fuck her like a whore.  

She was a billion miles away from the latter, though. Hence the conflict. 

Also, he got the distinct impression that she was still too scared of him. For the most part, she was settled around him, a little shy still, but definitely comfortable enough to open up to him and talk, just like she was doing on that particular evening. If he showed the weight of his desire for her, though, she’d surely bolt. The last thing he wanted was for her to flee.  

“I did a few years for theft, when I was eighteen,” he eventually replied, once he’d managed to finally pull himself back out of his thoughts. “Few times being locked up here and there in the time between, too.”  

“Don’t you mafia guys have the police on payroll, or something?” 

That was another reason why he held himself back. Would she truly want to remain in the world she’d been held prisoner in, should he instigate anything with her? Then again, at least this time she would have a choice. “We do now, yeah. Hence why I ain’t seen a cell in a while.”  

“I think I’d cry if I was ever arrested. Jail sounds scary,” she spoke, sipping her drink, her sweetness making his chest hurt. Why did she have to be the loveliest little thing he’d ever met? It was making him crazy, the want to protect her, the need to fuck her dirty, both colliding with the resolve that he’d solely keep here there until he knew all he wanted about the Calabrese family.  

It was a resolve that seemed to fracture away with every second that passed in her company.

She’d given him very useful information so far, too. Safe house locations his guys had duly gone in and looted, details of deals that she’d been made privy to that he’d been able to scupper before they’d had a chance to come to fruition. Because of Emily, he had the upper hand in the war against the family who – in his mind, at least – needed to show respect and fall back into line.  

What would happen when the well that was her information dried up, though? What, he was simply meant to let this beautiful little creature, this utter mythical princess of a woman unlike any others he’d encountered simply be on her way, and leave his life with a little less pure, iridescent sparkle in her wake? 

He was glad of the distraction when a heavy fist pounding the door below interrupted their evening, Emily nearly jumping out of her skin.  

“S’okay,” he assured her as he stood, resting a hand to her shoulder. “That’s Angelo, he has a habit of knocking like he’s the fuckin’ police.” He headed to the stairs, descending, opening the door but remaining out of her sight as he and Angelo exchanged hushed whispers. Luca appeared again after a few minutes, looking lamentable, but also angry as he pulled himself into his thick, black coat. 

“I have to go out, something I gotta attend to,” he spoke, Emily rising to her feet. 

“Oh, alright. When will you be back?” 

He shrugged, not looking pleased at all. “Hopefully not too long, but don’t wait on me, alright?” 

She nodded, and then completely on blind impulse, reached for his face, pulling him down to her tiny level and kissing his cheek. “Be careful.” 

His heart all but broke the ribs covering it with the force of its rapid thuds. He winked, thumb stroking the apple of her cheek. “I will, doll.”  

As he walked back down the stairs, he could still feel the soft press of her lips against his cheek, his pulse amped up from even the tiniest display of affection from his houseguest. He truly hadn’t expected it, and when he should have left the building with nothing but business on his mind, instead, it was only getting back to Emily again that occupied his thoughts.  

Meanwhile, the girl herself flopped back onto the couch, sighing as she covered her face with her hands. “Oh, god help me. I want that man so badly!” she grimaced, groaning with discomfort. Truly, she didn’t know how the hell to play it, either, feeling so conflicted.

Sometimes, he’d flirt with her, but she was too shy to reciprocate it, meaning he’d pull back and cool down with how he acted around her. Other times, she knew only too well he was trying to wheedle information regarding the Calabrese’s from her, information she found herself giving, getting herself furtherly wrapped up in a world she knew truly wasn’t any good for her.  

How much danger was she in, though, from her place beneath the albatross-like wings of Luca Changretta? Nobody would be fool enough to touch her. However, that was only if she became more to him than whatever she was, she supposed. Then again, he had told her several times already she was safe with him. 

Falling into a silly daydream, she imagined him taking her in his arms, kissing her, those big, tattooed hands laying worship upon her, that sultry voice of his speaking his wants and desires. She let her mind wander for so long that she was still partially in a daze when she heard a rapid knock at the door, followed by the creak of it opening, the music no longer playing.  

“Luca? It’s only me,” a female voice called, her heeled feet alighting the stairs. Before she could speak, a buxom looking redhead appeared, her face surprised as she took Emily in. “Oh, hi! I’m Maggie, and you are?”  

“Hi, Maggie. I’m Emily, and Luca is out,” she spoke, picking up her drink and finishing it. 

“Oh, oh alright. I must’a missed him leaving,” she muttered, holding two large jute bags in her hands. “I was just bringin’ up the takings to him, but I guess I can leave ‘em with you. You’re his new gal, right?” 

She shook her head. “No, just his, uh, his friend.”  

Maggie snorted, placing the takings down on the coffee table. “Luca don’t have gals who are just friends, sweetie pie.” She viewed her carefully, watching the way the young blonde blushed furiously, reaching for the vodka bottle. Only a tiny drizzle remained within.  

“Damn,” Emily pouted, “I drank it all.”  

“Hey, I gotta load of premixed cocktails I’d otherwise throw out. Fancy coming and helping me drink ‘em while I clean up for the night?” Maggie offered, suddenly feeling like she would be being rude to go and pour it all away, and leave the girl upstairs alone, waiting on a man who would likely be gone for hours. Especially too after she’d blatantly embarrassed the hell out of her by her assertion over her boss and his lack of female friends.  

Who was she to judge? Stranger things had happened, she guessed, although she had to admit, she was very curious. If Luca wasn’t giving her a good fucking on the regular, then just what was she doing there? She had noticed her boss not present down in the joint for the last two weeks, with none of his usual rotation of females making their way up to the apartment. Curiosity demanded an answer. 

Smiling, Emily rose to her feet, stuffing them into her shoes. “Sure, that’d be nice.”  Following Maggie back down, she was ushered over to the bar, taking a seat on one of the high stools, the clean up in full effect as people swept, tidied and mopped, the band disassembling their instruments and returning them to their respective cases.  

“Here, I hope you like Manhattan’s,” Maggie spoke, pouring a large measure into a copper mug and passing it over, topping off her own and holding it out. “Cheers, Emily.” 

“Cheers.” She took a swig, the alcohol hitting her throat so hard, she almost coughed, the redhead throwing her head back. 

“Sorry, sugar. I make ‘em potent!” she smirked, taking a soapy cloth and beginning to clean down the bar. “So, you and Luca. What’s the story, darl?”  

Emily didn’t really feel comfortable with revealing the whole truth to a perfect stranger, even though obviously she was a trusted person by the man himself. She wouldn’t have been working in his speakeasy if she wasn’t. “I’m staying with him for a little while.” 

“And you ain’t knockin’ boots with him?” she was then asked. 

“No, definitely not,” she replied, taking another sip of the rocket fuel in her grasp.  

Maggie raised an eyebrow, beginning to pick up liquor bottles from behind the bar and clean the runs and drips away with her cloth. “But you wanna, amirite? Everyone wants to fuck Luca, ‘cept me. I like ‘em a little prettier.”  

Watching her wink as a cute, almost angelic looking blonde saxophone player walked past and waved goodnight, Emily caught her drift immediately. Turning back to Maggie, she shrugged lightly. “I mean, I don’t know. I don’t think I’m his type.” By that point, she’d seen a picture of Filomena, his ex-wife when he’d shown her some photographs of his children. She was dark haired, buxom, Italian and glamorous. Everything she wasn’t.  

“True,” Maggie spoke, pausing to light a cigarette, her cleaning endeavours finished. “But men like somethin’ a lil’ different, they’ll find themselves urging for a taste of the unfamiliar when it’s presented to ‘em. You should give him a go, darl. I hear he’s good with his cock.”  

It was an unfortunate time to take a sip of the lethal Manhattan, Emily half spraying it back into the mug at her brazenness. Maggie couldn’t resist in teasing further. “One of the dancers here was fucking him a while back. Said he was hung like a bull and had the stamina of a guy half his age.”  

Emily felt herself shrinking with every word, Maggie throwing her head back and laughing hoarsely. “Oh, ain’t you a cutie! Gettin’ all shy. Sorry, I know I’m brash. I’ll behave.”  

Perhaps having a female perspective into her predicament might be helpful, she then pondered. Maggie seemed nice, friendly, too. It wasn’t like Emily had a whole lot in the way of friends, either, no gal pals to run her thoughts by. “Okay, so the truth is, I do want to,” she began, Maggie’s face lighting up as she leaned over the bar, huddling close. 

“Tell me more, sugar!” 

Pausing, she took another sip of her drink for courage. “I want to, but I never have before. With any man.”  

The barmaid’s eyes all but fell out of her skull. “Really?” 

She nodded.  

“But... why? Sex is amazing with the right guy!” 

Just then, a door flew open down at the other end of the room, one of the dancers striding out, mid-tirade. “It’s the fuckin’ same with all you fuckin’ Italian jerks!” she screamed, the guy following her looking nonchalant. “All of youse expect us to fuckin’ suck dick, but when it comes to returning it, nadda, nothin’, no sale! Would it fuckin’ kill you to eat me out just once, Luciano?” 

He shrugged, lighting a cigarette. “I ain’t about that.” 

“Yeah, me and my thirsty kitty cat know only too well, you two-bit fuck! We’re done!” She was out of the joint in a blur of sequins and fury, Emily and Maggie sharing a wide-eyed look at having front row seats to such a show. 

“Yeah, he ain’t the right guy,” the latter snorted, jerking her thumb in the direction where Luciano, one of Luca’s street guys had just walked in, softly cussing to himself in Italian.  

“To answer your question, I don’t know, really,” Emily confessed, thinning her lips momentarily. “I’ve never found anyone I like enough to do it with, I guess. It’s like I’m a beacon for shitty guys with bad intentions.”  

Her confidant didn’t truly know how to answer that, since Luca did seem to go through women like they were entering and exiting in a revolving door. However, there was a plus point. “Well, if you decided to, at least it wouldn’t be a lousy first experience for ya. He’s forty-three, the man has heaps of experience, so it wouldn’t be like my first. Two pumps and a squirt, baby. I was so disappointed,” 

The women both snorting laughing, Emily throwing her head back as she truly began to cackle loudly. Oh, she was funny, this brazen woman who had taken her under her wing and plied her with lethally potent cocktails. While she was beginning to relax and find herself making a new friend, the topic of their conversation was walking into a speakeasy in Bushwick, his crew around him.  

“Luca, glad you could join me,” Giacinto Calabrese spoke, leaning back in his seat. “Drink?”  

“No thanks,” he drawled through the chew on his toothpick, “won’t be stayin’ all that long. So, Angelo here tells me you gotta deal for me, huh?” 

His adversary gestured to a chair, Luca taking a seat, his eyes never leaving the man as he felt his mood darkening, looking at his hands. Those were the knuckles that had smashed the teeth out of her mouth. “I do, because you have somethin’ of ours we want returned to us, but I’m a fair man. I’m happy to exchange.” Lifting his chin, he pulled his cigarettes out, lighting one up. “Give me the girl, and I’ll walk away from the warehouses in Yonkers. You have my word.” 

He rolled his tongue against his cheek, chuckling a deadly hiss. “Your word is worth shit, and Emily ain’t for sale, pal.” 

“Oh!” The wise assed man laughed, entertained. “On first name terms with the little puttana now, huh? Wait, I can’t call her that, though. Bitch is more frigid than a fuckin’ nun!”  

Luca remained still, but his eyes moved with all the intent of a predator locking onto its target, slowly pulling the toothpick from between his lips. “The fuck you just call her, stronzo? A bitch?” 

“Yeah,” Giacinto laughed, “I called her a bitch, and...”  

That was as far as he got before the lion that was the head of the Changretta mob pounced, grabbing his collar and pounding his head down onto the table, their respective guys all drawing their weapons. 

“You’re outnumbered, fellas,” Angelo rumbled, tutting. “Put ‘em down.” The men fell back, all watching the scene unfold before them.  

Luca loomed like a shadow of death, his hand holding Giacinto fast against the smooth, dark wood. “Did you call her a bitch when you knocked her fuckin’ teeth out? Did ya? Tell me, how hard does a guy like you have to slug a tiny little thing like her to crack the goddamned teeth from her jaw? This hard?” His fist met his face in a sickeningly strong blow, the piece of shit beneath his grasp grunting in pain. “This hard?” He punched him again, this time loosening one of the teeth he was aiming for, Luca hauling him up and beginning to lay repetitive punches to his face, Giacinto flying back to the floor.  

With his rage pumping like water through a broken dam, Luca loomed over him, pulling a flick knife from his pocket and releasing the blade, holding it so hard against his cheek, his blood began to seep from beneath the press. “You ever speak her name again and I will cut your fuckin’ tongue from your head. The Yonkers warehouses are mine now, too, just for the fuckin’ gall of you. Give your fuckin’ father my goddamned regards, Giacinto.”  

“Fuck you, Luca!” he spat, shame and rage coiling through him.  

“Fuck me, huh?” he laughed, low and deadly. “Nah, kid. Tell me, you right-handed? You are, aren’t ya? It was your right hand you used to beat her, wasn’t it?” Wrenching his arm up, he grasped his wrist, bringing the knife down between his third and fourth fingers, beginning to slice through skin, sinew and tendons. Giacinto screamed, Luca holding the knife towards Angelo, needing both hands to grab the second and third, then fourth and fifth fingers, grasping hard before literally ripping his hand apart.  

“Can’t go punching little girls no longer now, can you?” Standing, he left him screaming on the floor, looking to his guys. “Step down from the warehouses as of tonight, or I do worse to all six of youse.” With that, Luca and his eight cohorts left the speakeasy, heading back to their cars, Brooklyn bound. Entering his apartment just under a half hour later, he made sure he was quiet, not wanting to wake the beauty in his bed.  

Hanging his coat and jacket, he unlaced his shoes, removing his tie as he walked over to the bed, just about able to see her outline there curled up, sleeping soundly. Reaching toward her face, he gently swept the platinum strands of hair that had fallen loose back behind her ear, tenderly stroking the apple of her cheek with the back of his fingers.  

He realised right there that she could never again utter anything about the Calabrese’s, and he wouldn’t care at all. He didn’t need her for information. He just needed her to be safe.  

The twisted irony wasn’t lost on him, though, that the very person she wasn’t safe from was the one whose bed she slept soundly in, but for very different reasons than what the Calabrese’s represented. He lingered there only a moment longer before going to the bathroom and undressing, pulling on his grey and white striped pyjama bottoms, heading for the couch.  

“Luca?”  

He actually jumped a little, hearing her soft voice suddenly sound through the dark. “Yeah, doll?” Turning, he watched her sit up, peeling the bed clothes back as she shuffled over, patting the mattress. “It’s freezing. You can’t keep sleeping on the couch. I don’t mind sharing.”  

He hesitated only a second before walking over, climbing in next to her, his heart beginning to race. Her warmth was the most alluring intoxication he’d ever felt near to him, wanting nothing but to wrap himself around her, meld his body to hers, tell her in no uncertain terms that Giacinto Calabrese would never dare touch her again.  

Lying there, Emily could feel the tension radiating from him, not knowing why he was in such a state, but sensing it all the same. Had something happened, while he was out, something to spark his temper, amp his ire? She felt him turn away from her, turning over herself and hesitating a moment before putting the advice she’d had from Maggie to good use. ‘Just move on him. You’re beautiful, sugar. He won’t turn you down.’  

It wasn’t necessarily a sexual advance, as Maggie had been specifically advocating, but it was a step in the right direction. Wrapping her arm around him, she pressed herself against his back, resting her hand to his chest. Her heart almost leapt into her throat when she felt him grasp her hand, thumb stroking, placing a kiss upon her fingers.  

He clutched her hand tight, feeling her breath flutter against his shoulder blades, his heart still hammering. If he turned to her, that would be it. He wouldn’t be able to hang onto the bull within him, goring against the very last of his soft flesh in a bid for freedom. Flesh that had softened for her. 

He remembered how he’d felt, punching Giacinto repeatedly in the face, until he had expelled blood with every groaned breath, all for her, because of her, because no man would ever make the sweet little darling curled against him feel less than all she was ever again.  

But still, he didn’t dare turn over. It’d be like Satan himself defiling the purest of angels. If only Luca knew, though, as he wrestled with the beast within, that the only thing the angel pressed against his back wanted was to feel the burn of his lust against her skin.  

[quirkle2]

i actually think that if mob played botw or totk his favorite character would be hudson no questions asked

do i even need to elaborate

[tawked]

Bone, Jeff Smith.

It's amazing how easy it is to avoid the "always evil species" trope and the problems that come with it by just exploring the evil species' culture for a second.

The rat creatures are violent weirdos who do not at all operate on a human scale of morality, but Smith doesn't make them automatically evil by birth, he provides a window into how their culture raises its children as well as the forces that define that culture such that the reader can see, hm! If these issues were addressed and if they were removed from that context, the rat men would likely not be evil! Likewise, through the brief little arc where Phoney Bone rallies all the humans of the valley up into a racist mob and attempts to lynch the Red Dragon, as well as the various Bones' fish out of water reactions to cultural staples of the valley like belief in the Dreaming, we see that no one is racially impervious to evil and that worldview is rooted in something other than simply being a "Man of the East" or an Uruk Hai or whatever.

It's like a much smarter version of Game of Thrones' cultural relativist approach to worldbuilding, and I say that purely because Smith often places empathy and concern for others in one's community at the forefront of how he writes his characters (even the early antagonists, the Two Stupid Rat Things, are easy to empathize with in their abuse under their leader, Kingdok). Other fantasy works that similarly reject biological or a priori by race morality in the fantasy genre kind of trend toward cynicism and cruelty as the norm, especially when portraying medieval European adjacent cultures, due to the weird belief that empathy was invented in 1894 by Lord Hudson Feelsforothers and before that everybody was just a witch-burning hater 24/7.

[artemis1214]

MEET ESME ROSE LUCIANO!

Hello! 👋🏼

These are some headcanons for my Hazbin Hotel OC, Esme! If you would like to read more about Esme's story, you can check out my Wattpad story "A Siren's Spell".

HELLA SPOILERS AHEAD!

Human Life (1900-1932) 

As a child, Esme was very friendly and bubbly. She was everyone's best friend and the little major of Manhattan. 

Would love to pet the horses leading the carriages in front of her father’s bar. 

Esme’s mother would always try to keep her away from the family ‘business’, but little Esme always found herself listening in on the men's conversations and meetings. 

Natural flirt as a teenager, but only had one boyfriend in New York.

Natural mother figure to Anthony from their connected families.

Cool aunt vibe for Molly and Anthony. (Would buy them ice cream on the regular when their parents weren't around).

Would float in a raft in the Hudson River, smoking a cigarette in the summer. 

Very protective of her younger sister, would stand up to bullies, and get in trouble with the nuns at school. 

Raised Catholic. 

Libra.

Used by her father to lure men to his work and steal their money. 

Gets "too involved" in the business and gets sent to New Orleans to basically hide away.

Has a very seductive luxurious transatlantic accent, but alone drops to a casual crisp New York tone. 

Accent drops completely when upset or cursing.

Always smells like vanilla and strawberries.

Lots of chocolate martinis, vodka cranberries, and red wine. 

Long hair because she hates thinking about fitting into societal beauty standards (no flapper hair here!).

Heavy sweet tooth. 

Big bookworm.

Theme Songs: 

“You don’t own me” 

"My Days" - The Notebook on Broadway

"Roxie" - Chicago

"Gangsta" - Kehlani

"So, this is love?"

Always carries a silent pistol in her purse.

Very charming, seductive, playful, and secretive. 

Steals Mimzy's spot as the head girl at the speakeasy.

Singer, burlesque performer.

Also plays piano.

Alastor watches her from the back of the parlor, tapping his finger on his whiskey glass.

Meets Alastor immediately but senses something ‘off’ about him. 

Hella sexual tension right off the bat. 

Threatens him with her pistol when she discovers who he is. 

Not phased by many of Al’s doings as she watched her father kill men all the time. 

“You don’t scare me." 

Has a smart mouth that often gets her in trouble when men. 

Has spit in men’s faces before.

“Fuck you.” These are her two favorite words for them.

Is disgusted by men. 

“Men are dogs, I like my dogs on four legs.” 

Very possessive, protective, and jealous. 

When the two get married she becomes similar to a New York mob wife. 

“No Alasta, you’re not killin’ on a Sunday! Sunday is a holy day - plus I made meatballs!” 

Goes for the eyes when she kills people, “You really do have pretty eyes, wonder how long they’ll take to cut out.”

Will ship the remains to their parents as a “warning.” 

Going to the water when she is stressed out, usually the dock near her house.

Alastor will drive fast down empty roads so she can hang out of the car and let her hair flow.

ALWAYS has a record on the spinner and espresso brewing.

Their house smells like coffee 24/7.

Angelic, alluring voice with a natural jazzy ring to it if she so pleases when she sings.

BIG flirt and entertainer when drunk or high.

Very strong siren eyes when she is singing, performing, or talking to someone. 

HATES spicy food (Alastor’s cooking nearly kills her every time)

Will request a seafood broil every single time he cooks for her.  

If Alastor’s mother were to be alive, these two would be BEST FRIENDS! 

She’d probably make plans to hang out with just her - not Alastor (lol!). 

Date nights of just cooking their respective recipes. 

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU DON’T LIKE MY LASAGNA?!” 

Their song is “It’s Been a Long, Long, Time” by Kitty Kallen.

COUPLE THEME SONG: ACROSS THE STARS FROM STAR WARS.

Hella foreshadowing (Padme/Anakin vibes)

Speaks Italian when upset 

Che Cazzo?!

Che palle?!

Figlio di puttana!

Affectionate pet names for those she cares for 

“Lovey” - Her sister Margo 

“My Dove” - Her daughter, Genevieve 

“Sweetheart” - Alastor 

NEVER shows up to an event empty-handed. She’ll feed everyone there. 

Love language is def quality time and cooking.

Flirts with Alastor around his secretary to make her jealous 

Basically the second in command when she's at Alastor's office.

You better do whatever Esme asks or he will kill you (no joke).

“Let that bitch hear.” Vibes. 

Brat 

Submissive/Switch

Masochist

Big softie as a mother, complete domestic. 

Loves children and animals. 

No longer works at the speakeasy.

Becomes a housewife.

Can have hella anxiety/depression.

Doesn't cope with things properly and will shut herself out from everyone if upset.

Emotionally numb from losing so many people in her life.

At the end of her story, she realizes it's going to be him or her...

"Veronica, open the door please!" Vibes.

"Where is Padme, is she safe? Is she alright?" 

“It seems in your anger, you killed her…”

BIG THANKS TO @hoomandoescosplay FOR HELPING WITH THESE HEADCANONS! LOVE YOU GIRLYPOP! 💗

[alicepao13]

Hudson and Rex S03E16 - The Art of the Steal - PART B

Black letters in quotes: Actual show quotes.

Green letters in quotes: What I come up with my twisted brain.

"Will's a terrible flirt but he's actually kinda sweet." Jesse! Don't call that cheater sweet in front of Charlie.

"Wait a second, I recognize that scratch." Color me shocked. It came up again.

Arresting frenemies.

Does anyone ever rob banks for the money anymore? According to crime shows, no.

"It's the right thing to do." Dude, I wouldn't give you anything with that. What is this, a Jedi mind trick?

Flash mob used as a way of escape. I've seen this somewhere before.

"Humans are weird."

There's literally no reason for the slow-mo but look at how good the screenshot gets. You can't get this at full speed.

And here's Charlie. My confusion remains.

Dude has the finger on the trigger and waving the gun around. He would have pressed the trigger without even realizing it.

This is totally privileged kid behavior. Who the hell does four robberies just because his dad won't tell him the truth?

Anyway. No one cares. Back to the team gathering.

Joe: "I never should have doubted you in the first place, and for that I'm sorry." Rex: "Nice of you to recognize it."

The TV rip is accompanied by a short video of the cast celebrating the fact that they got renewed for a fourth season, which is not attached to any of the webrips. Bummer. Anyway, while this is the right episode to be chosen as the season finale out of the last few ones, it's not very strong in my opinion.

So, S3 was way better than 1 and 2 overall. I liked the extra fresh air they got on cases, even if that change was brought on in major part due to Covid. But there's nothing dumber than having access to beautiful locations and not using them. Also, there was more "team as family" scenes, more Charah scenes, and my favorite, more whump scenes.

[dyinglikenarcissus]

Chapter 3. An Engagement for the Stars

5k words

Warnings: 18+ only. None really. Steve sees reader naked for the first time

There are some perks to dating a mob boss; private jets and first class seats, Michelin Star restaurants, expensive gifts. But the full production for your meet cute video had to take the cake. Steve has an area blocked off along the Hudson River that was just scenic enough that you would film b-roll there. There were hired extras to wander around and make it look real. Divers to ensure the journey of your phone once it hit the water. You didn’t need all of this but he wanted it to look as believable as possible. You guess movies are pretty believable when they aren’t over done.

You shiver under your coat while hair and makeup are done for you. You just flew back from Tokyo so you appreciated the early morning call time but it was freezing out in New York City. The two of you ‘met’ at the end of summer so now you had to dress like it was the end of summer with shorts and a light blouse. Steve was in a cotton polo and slacks, his arms wrapped around you while your lashes were done. He was like a furnace and you happily take his warmth.

“Alright, how’s that look?” You don’t even bother taking the mirror. Steve’s been your personal style critic.

He pulls his lips to the side as he scrutinizes your makeup. “Beautiful,” he finally smiles making you giggle. “You do good work. Thank you.” The make up artist nods and walks off leaving the two of you alone.

Steve pulls you into his coat while you go over the performance one more time.

“Do we do a dress rehearsal or do we just go for it?” Steve asks, rubbing his hands up and down your arms to warm you.

“Let’s just do it!” You grin up at him. You seal the new phone you got after you met Steve in a plastic bag and start filming a normal story time. You start going on about how you met Thor Odinson and walk along the water’s edge. It’s amazing there isn’t a railing or anything here…

Steve bumps into you on queue, sending your bagged phone flying over the edge of the rail and into the water.

“Shit! I’m so sorry!” Steve apologizes and steadies you by gripping your shoulders as the phone sinks.

You gasp softly and look up at him. He really is gorgeous. If this was actually how you met, you’d fall for him instantly.

Divers rush after it to ‘eat it’ with a fake fish and Sam calls ‘cut’ from his spot by the cars but the two of you are a little wrapped up in each other.

“You’re not going to jump in after it?” You ask the blond as your coat is brought to wrap over your shoulders and Steve’s is handed to him.

“I’m not getting in that water,” he laughs.

“If you really loved me you’d go get it,” you joke.

“I already paid someone to do it for me,” he counters.

“Trying to buy my affection?”

“Is it working?” Steve grins before tugging coat securely around you. “Let’s go home. It’s too cold out here for you.” You nod and tuck yourself back under his coat while the whole production wraps up around you. Sam hands you back your phone just as Bucky meets you at the car with Jethro in his arms.

“Was he a good boy for you?” You ask taking the cat.

“He was the best boy,” Bucky coos scratching him under his chin, making the cat purr for him.

Who knew getting him around all these hardened men would make him so docile?

“You two heading home?” Sam asks

“Yeah, I’m going to get her settled and take a nap.”

“We have that thing tomorrow,” Bucky grunts as you put Jethro back in his carrier.

“Right. Shit...Hey, star? You wanna go to this benefit opera art gallery whatever tomorrow? It’s for the kids or the rain forest or something?”

“It’s a Broadway production of Carmen for the refugees,” Sam explains rolling his eyes at Steve. “You don’t know what you’re donating to?”

“I know ten percent has to go or the feds will be up my ass. That’s what I know,” Steve smiles.

“I’ll go,” you smile and slide into the car.

“She’ll go,” Steve shrugs. “Go home. Get some sleep.” He instructs his friends before following you into the car.

“This is it,” Steve sighs placing Jethro’s carrier on the floor of a posh penthouse.

“It’s huge! It’s the whole floor? You live here all alone?” You ask in succession while opening Jethro’s carrier. He lets out a soft meow.

“Don’t worry, little man. I have you all set up in your mom’s room.”

“I have my own room?”

“Of course, star. I’m not going to make you sleep on the couch. It’s the whole floor. Sam and Bucky live downstairs. It’s the Manhattan place. I prefer the place in Brooklyn but what can you do?”

“How many houses do you have?”

“Fuck if I know. You’d have to ask Sammy. He deals with the finances.”

Wow. You can’t even imagine having so many homes you can’t even count them.

“You want a tour?” You nod and take his hand. There’s a kind of old world charm to the space. Like it was designed in the height of the art deco movement. Hand carved moulding and velvet textured walls decorate every room. Not to mention the furniture! Everything was gilded in gold and elaborate. There was nothing modern or simple about it. The building was obviously new with a car elevator in the garage and modern amenities so rent alone must cost a fortune. Decorating must have been another pile of cash on top of that!

“This is amazing,” you whisper as he shows you the dining room. Tall chairs surround an imposing table all framed by an enormous fire place.

“Thanks,” Steve laughs.

“Let me guess, Sam decorated too?”

“No, this was all me.”

“Really? You’re kinda stuck in the past, huh?”

“It was a simpler time,” he shrugs. “The old boss used to always called me a ‘man out of time’. I never really understood it until the decorator called my style ‘pre war’. Like World War II war,” he laughs at the statement. “I guess it is.”

“It definitely is,” you giggle. He pulls you off to an unassuming walnut door. It looked the same as all the others but he let you take the lead this time. “Is this me?”

“This is you.”

You can’t say you aren’t disappointed that the rest of the style doesn’t spill into your designated space but you would never really feel comfortable in that. Steve seemed to translate your style pretty well.

Clean lines, simple designs, a lot of grays, pinks, and blues. Yeah. You could live here. But the design doesn’t catch your eyes as much as the walls do.

You let out a delighted noise and point the the fixtures. “Is that for Jethro?” Steve nods and sits on the bed. You squeal and run over to the cat jungle gym attached to the wall. There’s tunnels and bridges, ladders and a running wheel all affixed to one wall and circling the ceiling.

“He’s going to love this. Thank you,” you smile stepping between his legs and resting your forehead to his.

“What about you? Do you think you’ll be comfortable?”

“I’ll survive, I guess,” you sigh with an air of disappointment.

“What can I fix?” He asks.

“That it’s all in New York,” you laugh. Steve just shakes his head at you and pulls you into a gentle kiss.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he mutters and kisses you once more. “Your bags are probably already in the closest. Get some rest, alright?” Steve holds your hips and moves you out of the way as he stands up.

“Wait. Where’s your room?”

“Double doors at the end of the hall,” he instructs while walking away.

You nod after him as he disappears out the open door.

-

“Get ready with me for the opera with my -eeek- fiancé! It’s still so fun to call him that. So, a lot of you have been asking how we met and it’s kind of a crazy story. I know you won’t believe it but I was actually able to get the video off of my phone because it uploaded to the iCloud!” You recount the manufactured tale while applying your make up at the bathroom vanity. It felt weird not to do this while sitting on the floor in front of your bed but you were going to take all the luxury amenities Steve was offering.

“So, anyway here’s my dress!” You hold up the designer dress you went to pick up that morning for the camera. “And I was thinking these shoes,” you hold up a pair that your brought with you. “But I just got this matching clutch and these shoes today,” you hold up another option. “Let me know your favorite in the comments! And as promised, the footage from that fateful day.”

You stop the video and sigh. You did a really good job on your on eye shadow for once. You'll have to remember this technique for next time. You admire it for a moment just as Steve walks in. Your eyes widen slightly at how good he looks in his navy suit. Fitted in all the right places. This must be how people get pregnant.

“Hey, movie star. You doing alright in here?” You nod up at him and he lets out an impressed whistle. “If I wasn’t an engaged man, I’d marry you right now.” You giggle and scoot over on the vanity bench so he can sit.

“You’re engaged to me, silly,” you joke and pick out a lipstick.

“Is that right? Maybe we should fuck the formalities and run away together,” he mutters pulling you into a kiss.

“This is your show, Steve,” you remind him and move to kiss him back but he frowns slightly and pulls away.

You pause what you’re doing to focus on him. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he sighs.

“Nothing?” You repeat and let out a soft huff.

“I told you I’m not apologizing for this anymore so I’m not apologizing but…”

“Steve,” You pause and take a deep breath. “Whatever happened that day, it brought us together. And against all odds, we seem to get along pretty well. Let’s appreciate that.”

He hums softly but doesn’t meet your gaze. You watch him for a moment before going back to your makeup.

You must have said something right because he eventually presses a kiss to the back of your hand and watches your process.

“I should’ve just let you do your makeup yesterday. You look beautiful. But you have a great canvas, huh?”

“I guess,” you smile. He hums softly again and rest his head on his steepled hands to keep watching you.

“I’m going to change but don’t go anywhere, I need you to zip me up." Steve nods and you disappear in the closet. You return clutching the mermaid dress to you chest and holding the train up so you don’t trip without your heels.

You sweep your braids over one shoulder.

“Shit,” Steve whispers as you turn, around facing away from him.

“It’s a little snug so don’t be afraid to manhandle me.”

“Don’t say things like that,” Steve laughs darkly and steps behind you. “I won’t want to be good.” Your face heats at his words and you feel his hand at the top of your ass, steadying you, before he tugs up the zipper. “There. My gorgeous little star,” he sighs pressing a kiss to your temple. His hands grip your waist tugging you back against him. You look up to meet his lips and moan into a deep kiss. His hand cups the back of your head and he pulls you into turning into his arms. Your hands rest on his lapels, standing on your toes to reach closer his height.

Then you let out a soft gasp when his hand cups your ass. A feeling flutters from your stomach all the way down to your core and you feel moisture pool at the junction of your legs and you know all of you likes it.

But Steve instantly pulls away from you.

“Shit! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to-I shouldn’t have-“ but you cut off his babbling as you press your lips back to his. You take his hands and guide them low on your hips. Giving him permission to feel all he wants.

“Fuck,” he groans against your lips and both of his hands run over your back side, gripping it possessively.

“It’s nice, huh?”

“It’s fucking perfect,” Steve chuckles and pulls you back into his lips.

“Gross! Break it up!” You hear Bucky call from behind you. You jump out of Steve’s grasp, cutting the make out session short. You look up at him and if looks could kill. But Bucky isn’t even phased by his best friend's daggers. “Let her go. We’re gonna be late,” he orders and marches out of your room.

You look back up at Steve and giggle. This must be what it feels like to be caught with your boyfriend by your parents.

“You’d think he runs this operation,” Steve grunts.

“He’s coming for your job,” you smile.

“He could never,” Steve rolls his eyes and places another kiss to your lips.

You had no idea this would be a star studded event. Honestly, you didn't know what to expect. You'd been to so many influencer events, you weren't exactly sure what a normal event was like. Normally it was a lot of hugging and selfies. This was all red carpet interviewers and actual press. You weren't sure how to conduct yourself but Steve easily took the reins, guiding you from one press reporter to the next then photos. The two of you looked great in your matching navy blue. And Steve was so patient when you had to take tiny steps in your body hugging dress.

"You look so fucking gorgeous," Steve sighs as he holds your waist for pictures.

You smile up at him. "Maybe you should marry me."

He chuckles and presses a soft kiss to your lips.

Bucky leads the way to the reserved balcony.

"I'm sitting back here and I don't want to see it," the brunet warns falling into his chair.

"Maybe we should switch. I actually want to watch the show," Sam suggests giving Bucky a pointed look.

"Whatever," he grunts. You don’t really mind. Both rows had a good view of the stage.

Steve sighs and is instantly on his phone. He obviously doesn’t care about any of it.

"What's this even about?" Bucky mutters. Steve shrugs without looking up.

"It's about a man chasing an unattainable woman,” Sam supplies.

"You'd know all about this, Buck," Steve mutters.

"Shut the fuck up, punk," Bucky barks back in a hushed tone.

"Who do you have a crush on?" You ask wanting to be a part of the conversation.

"Sammy's sister," Steve smirks.

"And if he even looks at her funny, he's going to fucking get it," Sam threatens.

"As if you could ever," Bucky chides.

"That's cute!" You giggle. "I want to meet your sister. She's probably gorgeous."

Sam hands you his phone with a picture of a woman and two boys. "That's Sarah and my nephews."

"She's so pretty! Your family is beautiful! You’ll have to get me her braider.”

A waiter comes by and drops off your drink orders and the lights dim. The orchestra starts a dramatic tune signaling the start of the show. Steve lets out an irritated sigh and puts his phone away.

“Not happy to be here?” You ask as he wraps his arm over your shoulder, pulling you toward him.

“There’s so many other things calling my name right now, little star.”

“Steve speak for ‘I’d rather be at home’,” Bucky chuckles softly.

“The Office, my bed, a bottle of scotch, all sound so much better than this.” He lifts your hand and presses a kiss to its palm. “Especially with my girl right down the hall,” he adds quietly, just for you to hear. You smile at his words and press a quick peck to his cheek but focus on the stage.

You’re not going to lie, you want to watch the show, too.

Half way through the first act, you notice Bucky’s head start to nod. You smile and fight every instinct not to lean forward and wake him up. You giggle when he lets out a soft snore and Sam punches him in the arm.

“The fuck?” he hisses and earns a shushing from Sam.

“I like your friends,” you whisper to Steve.

“Yeah? I like ‘em, too.”

By intermission, your legs and bladder are whining for some attention. You stand and stretch and ask the usher where the restroom is.

“We’re going to hit up the bar,” Steve yawns. You nod and quickly follow the usher’s directions down the hall. There’s private bathrooms up here so luckily you don’t have to stand in line.

Unlucky, you completely forgot you were basically sewed into this dress. You let out a soft whine before cursing. You could ask a random women walking by but she’d probably post about it on Twitter or something. ‘Golden Boy Roger’s new girl was trapped in her dress in the bathroom.’

You quickly text Steve and pray he makes it to you quickly.

“Star,” he knocks on the door moments later. Thank God! “What’s-“ Before he can finish his sentence, you drag him into the bathroom.

“Off! I need this off!” You demand at his wide eyed expression.

“Okay, alright, give me a second.”

A flood of relief rushes through you once the dress is unzipped. There’s no time for decorum as you shimmy the dress down your hips and thrust it into his hands before pushing him back outside.

You sit on the toilet and let out a relieved sigh. Once the urgency is gone you can finally think straight and-

“Oh shit,” you breathe.

Steve just saw you naked.

The dress was so tight! Any underwear would cause an outline and you didn’t really need a bra so you were completely nude.

And Steve just saw all of it.

“Shit, shit, shit,” you repeat as tears start to sting your eyes. You like him. You really do. But you’re far from that step. You didn’t even think you were ready to be seen naked! Let alone by the man who kidnapped you and was forcing you to marry him who you were slowly falling for…

Oh my god, were you falling for him?

…

What were you even saying? You were definitely falling for him! He was thoughtful and loving and caring and put his friends and family first.

And he was a mob boss…

You let out a slow breath and flush before washing your hands.

You crack the door open and Steve thrusts the dress through the crack while looking up at the ceiling.

“Thank you,” you whisper. You press back into it and when everything is safely covered, you invite him back in to zip you up.

“Thank you,” you repeat after the dress is secured around you.

“Anytime.” There’s an air of awkwardness that has never been between you.

You hate it.

“I’m sorry. I just really had to pee.”

“Understandable,” Steve replies.

You let out a painful laugh. “You saw me completely naked!”

“Yeah, I did,” Steve agrees readily. You cover your face and look at the ceiling to try to stop the tears from falling. You blink a few times to ensure they're under control but you still feel them burning your eyes.

Steve hands you a black handkerchief and you dab the inner corners of your eyes carefully.

“And?” You ask with a watery laugh.

A smile finally cracks Steve’s face. “And what? Do you want me to say you have a great ass and gorgeous tits or something?”

You burst into laughter and let the tears fall. “Come here.” Steve pulls you into his arms. “It’s okay, little star. It’s just me,” Steve mutters into your hair, attempting to calm your tears. “It’s alright.” He kisses the top of your head and you feel surprisingly content at his words. The tears slow and you’re so glad you wore water proof mascara.

“You want me to leave you alone for a second?” He asks as you start to dab your face.

You shake your head quickly. “I want you with me.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he whispers and holds you while you fix your makeup.

“You look beautiful,” he assures you.

“You’re sure?”

“Positive.” You meet his gaze in the reflection and see something in his gaze you haven’t noticed before.

Maybe the attraction really is mutual…

You want to stay like this in his arms forever…

The lights flicker just as you relax into his hold. “God, this fucking thing,” he groans. “Do you wanna go home?”

“Seriously?” You ask, watching him in the mirror.

“This is Sam’s deal. He’s all about keeping us cultured. I grew up the Brooklyn. I’ve seen enough culture for a life time. But I could watch the same episode of The Office 50 times in a row and still find it hilarious.”

You giggle at his words and rest your head back on his chest. “It’s the fire drill episode, huh?”

“Today, smoking is gonna save lives.”

You laugh again and close your eyes. “Can we get some pizza?”

“Can we get some pizza?” Steve mocks. “I’m having a half bbq chicken half meat lovers delivered to the house as we speak.”

You grin at his reflection. “Let’s go home.”

Steve texts Sam and Bucky that you’re heading out early and takes you home.

The two of you shower, put on some pjs, and meet in Steve’s room for food and entertainment.

By the second episode, Sam and Bucky walk into the bedroom.

“What the fuck! You couldn’t rescue me, too?” Bucky shouts tossing his bow tie at Steve. He holds up a throw pillow to block it so quickly you’re shocked by his reflexes.

“You’re just not cute enough,” Steve sighs, looking over the pillow at his best friend.

“Fuck you,” Bucky grumbles and kicks off his dress shoes and slides onto the bed.

“How was the rest of the show?” You ask Sam as he sits on the edge of the bed.

“It was really good. But it started dragging in act 3.”

“The whole thing dragged,” Bucky announces with a mouth full of pizza. “There’s beer in the fridge, huh?” Steve nods.

“Get me one,” Sam calls after the brunet.

“Get it yourself,” Bucky calls back.

“So, when are you leaving us?” Sam asks you as you lean back on Steve’s pillows.

“I guess I have to go home, huh?” You ask looking at the blond.

“You don’t have to,” Steve offers.

“I better. I mean, I have a wedding party to get together. Find a dress. Pick out colors.”

“Don’t stay away for too long. We like having you here,” Sam smiles. You grin back at him before finding Steve’s hand. He presses a kiss to the back of yours just as Bucky returns with a round of beers.

Sam and Bucky didn’t leave until the early hours of the morning but you enjoyed the company. They shared old war stories and laughed at Dwight and Jim’s antics.

It was fun. Like having brothers.

You and Steve drag yourselves out of bed to clean up the mess the boys left. You both walk down the hall and you attempt to stop at your room but Steve drags you back to his.

“Stay with me?” You look up at him.

This was all new territory. You've never slept with a man. But a lot of things with Steve were new territory. And he’d been so good to you through all of it.

You nod and follow him to his bed.

It starts a little awkward as you lie down staring at the moulded ceiling, not really sure what to do. Then Steve wraps his arms around your waist and pulls your against his chest. And everything seems right in the world.

“Comfortable?” He mutters. Sleep taking him over faster than you realize.

“I think so.”

“You think so?”

“I’ve never slept with anyone,” you remind him.

“You get comfortable. I’ll conform to you.”

You nod and turn over to face him, your arms wrap around his narrow waist and one of your thighs wraps over his hips. You bury your face in his chest.

“This is comfortable?” You nod and hum affirmatively. “Do you sleep with a stuff bear or something?”

“It’s a giant pikachu,” you correct.

He smiles and wraps his arms around you. “As long as you’re comfortable.”

-

Two days later you return home to what feels like an intervention. You step into your condo and find your best friends are there seated around your living room.

“Hey guys,” you mutter as your driver brings in your luggage.

“Hey,” Kate sighs, watching you intently. “How was Japan?”

“It was great,” you try to convince them and yourself that you’re not keeping a massive secret. “I brought you stuff from Disneyland. Duffy plushes and food. I hope they didn’t get squi-“

“Let’s start with why you’re engaged to a guy we just learned about last week?”

“What the hell?” Kamala groans.

“Not cool. We’re ride or die,” Kahhori agrees.

“Um, well, it was all just going so fast and Steve has just been such a wonderful guy and I-I-I’m sorry!” Tears start to stream down your face as all the emotions you've bottled up for the past two months boil over. “I’ve been a shitty friend and you guys have been there for me from the start! I shouldn’t have let a guy get between us.”

“Oh, honey,” Kamala coos and pulls you into a hug. “Its ok. We were just scared you were kidnapped and forced to marry him against your will.” You blanch at her words and Kahhori sees the look of shock on your face head on.

“You’re pregnant!” She accuses, pointing at you while covering her mouth.

“Pregnant?” You cant help but laugh at the statement. “I’m still a virgin!” You sniffle and rub your nose with your hand. “I think I’m about to start my period.” The four of you laugh at the situation.

“Alright,” Kate sighs. “There’s only one cure for period emotions: ice cream.”

“Ice cream!” Kamala repeats. “I’m Ubering Baskin Robbins. Mint chocolate chip, rocky road, pistachio, and birthday cake bubble gum for me.”

You bend down to let out Jethro and he races to the nearest hiding place.

“It’s the world traveler,” Kahhori coos after the cat. All you see is a pair of green eyes peaking out from under the couch.

“I got him a little fake passport and they stamped it for me,” you laugh. “Help me unpack so we can enjoy our ice cream.”

An hour later, you’re all circled around your living room sharing frozen treats and talking about what you’ve missed out on.

“I got that internship at Marvel,” Kamala announces while holding up her pink plastic spoon like an award.

The three of you clap and cheer for the woman. She’s been trying to get her foot into the comic industry for years. This was her first big break.

“I can’t wait to start collecting your comics,” Kahhori laughs.

“We’re going to make sure yours are the best sellers,” Kate grins.

“All it takes is one video,” you grin. “How’s the Mohawk language class going?”

“It’s on the board of supervisor’s desk. Now it’s just waiting for a yes or no.”

“That’s good!” Kate grins. “So many more Native kids will want to go to UCLA.”

“It’ll change a lot of lives,” Kahhori agrees and scrapes the bottom of her paper ice cream bowl.

“Alright, Kate? What are you up to?” You ask licking your spoon.

She arranges the little Duffy plush dressed as a archer into a sitting position before answering. “I found a spot for the club. It’s in South LA but I want under privileged kids to have access to archery. I’m tired of training kids like you’re about to make with your billionaire boyfriend.”

“So, you’re giving us fictional kids now?” You laugh and steal some of Kamala’s birthday cake ice cream.

“I’ve dealt with them all my life. I want to make a difference.”

“Well, once I get access to my billionaire boyfriend’s bank account, expect a hefty donation,” you grin.

“Speaking of billionaire boyfriends, are you waiting for marriage or something? How’d you bag a guy like him without putting out?” Kahhori questions.

You shrug. “We just kinda clicked.” Kahhori rolls her eyes at the cliche comment.

“I think it’s cute. Tell us more,” Kamala requests lying across the couch and resting her chin on her folded arms.

You tell them about your made up meet cute and your first date when he took you to your mom’s favorite restaurant. And how he quickly redeemed himself. Then you tell them about getting to know him. You don’t mention it was all done through his borrowed cell phone. Then the Tokyo trip, the opera, the bathroom incident. That brings Kate and Kahhori to tears with laughter.

“You just fucking stripped?”

“I had to pee!”

“You should’ve stood on the toilet and peed,” Kahhori suggested.

“Gross! No!”

“He’s seen it all and you still haven’t fucked?” Kate asks.

“No. I guess it’ll happen eventually but I don’t want to rush it.”

“You’ll get married after knowing him for a couple months but you don’t want to rush into sex?” Kahhori asks in disbelief. “That makes so much sense.”

“I know it sounds ridiculous but I think he’s just my person,” you shrug. “Plus Jethro loves him.”

“What?” All three women cry.

“Yes! He’ll sit on his lap and purr, play with him. If I don’t marry him, my cat will.” You show the video evidence of Steve cuddling with your normally terrified ball of fur in just a tank top and basketball shorts.

“He’s got so many muscles,” Kamala sighs. “Does he have a brother?”

“He has two best friends with just as many muscles,” you giggle. “And I’m going to need some bridesmaids,”

“I call muscular best friend!” Kamala announces making you all laugh.

Chapter 2 | Master List | Chatpter 4

[thebeastofblackmoor]

honest CW Drew Crew endings

Nancy: After multiple seasons spent wondering if her Hudson lineage made her a bad person, her fears are confirmed! Her soul was that of one of the original Hudsons who was the ultimate oppressor and sacrificed children to create monsters that would erase crimes from memory to defend perpetrators. Explicitly out of guilt, Nancy takes to the road alone to erase these beasts from the face of the world. She's in a distance relationship with Ace, though, so that's all we care about.

Ace: Despite being a genius computer hacker, Ace decides to get into medical examination. (Also alone and far away!) I guess the problem with getting a job in the field he was truly gifted at wasn't that he was having a hard time motivating himself or that he didn't have a good group to support him, but that he was not working with corpses! Despite having claimed in the past that he's never had a group of friends like the Drew Crew and showing no interest in the medical field before last season, he leaves them all to pursue medical examination. Except Nancy, who he's doing long distance with I guess.

Bess: After having been kicked out of no fewer than three households in her life and spending her entire childhood friendless and family-less, Bess's first actual home is burned down by an angry mob and her friends all leave town. She is explicitly devastated by this, but don't worry, this sudden and complete massively triggering abandonment is played for laughs! And she has a girlfriend, so rest assured she couldn't be happier.

George: After having been forced to work her entire life to support her sisters, George selects a notoriously difficult, stressful, and cutthroat career path. I guess she's passionate about it, although like Ace, she's never shown interest in being a lawyer for more than a season. We are informed that her mother just... got better offscreen and that her sisters are grown now! (After one in-universe year.) Rather than finally being able to settle down in her home and be cared for alongside her sisters, she also leaves Horseshoe Bay to hit the grindset far far away from her friends and family. But she's not alone! She has the most boring and random man in existence with whom she has 0 chemistry and we've almost never seen her interact with. Seriously, this is a good thing for her, trust us!!

Nick: Nick's ending is the only one that makes even a little sense, since he has had a long-established interest in tinkering and technology and had an established rapport with Tom Swift. However, the career that he got with Swift Industries is only brought up in the very last scene, presumably because the writers had to pull something out of their asses to justify him leaving Horseshoe Bay, too. He also has an eleventh-hour significant other to run off with.

Seriously, I get that the ending of everyone going their separate ways is supposed to feel "realistic" and like everyone is prioritizing their own happiness, but I am baffled by the fact that anyone in the writer's room thought these were good endings. Everyone's paths came out of nowhere and were way too sudden to feel realistic. The writers love to gripe that they weren't given the time to do the ending they really wanted to pull off, but if that's the case, then they should have adapted the ending accordingly! If they didn't have time to set up all these individual career paths, they should have worked with what they had set up. If they didn't have time to get us to love new romantic interests, just scrap that altogether; not everyone needs to be neatly paired off with someone. If they weren't able to show all the magical Horseshoe Bay adventures they wanted to, they should have left the group intact so that the audience could imagine more and the group would still feel whole rather than randomly and swiftly disbanded, especially since they only did one year of in-universe time, and that leads me to believe the Drew Crew will not keep in close contact. It's not like they're long-term friends.

The focus on everyone having a relationship and a career that trumps their friendship and established happiness in Horseshoe Bay just feels icky to me. Like the writers thought that having a high-powered career and an SO--no matter how irrelevant both are to the established character--is the only way to have happy ending and are the only things that matter.

[technicolourcowboy]

Felt a bit silly 🤭 went and mobified another cowboy babeyyyy

One day they will get their cowboy hats 😔 one day

[backtothefanfiction]

The Angel In The Garden of Evil | Chapter 1 : The Call of a Night Bird

Summary: Peter Parker's wife left him 3 years ago. Suddenly she's back and she's brought some news that is about to change everything, unfortunately that news comes with its own set of complications and he's out for blood.

Warning: 18+ Only, mature themes, eventual smut, weapons, angst, lots of emotional tension

Word Count: 2.1k

A/N: Hello, welcome, I am so excited to be sharing this story. It has consumed me for the last week resulting in me so far having written a total of almost 20,000! words, including the Prologue which you can find here. As mentioned in the others note for the prologue and in subsequent posts lately, I have come to adore Mob!Au Peter Parker stories after finding the wonderful @liz-allyn's Sugar + Vice series and even more recently @p3mybeloved one shots based on the lyrics of Florence and the Machine's Rabbit Heart (Raise It Up). If you haven't read either and you enjoy this fic and want more like it I would highly recommend checking them out. Anyway this is the first part of a 2 chapter drop, but after that you can expect weekly chapter releases every Friday. Now, without further ado, I hope you enjoy, this is The Angel In The Garden of Evil.

ONE

Peter Parker was nonchalant about journeys home, it was simply routine at this point in his life. Although he had other properties in the city and even around the world, this was his only true safe space. A large mansion on the outskirts of the city. 7 bedrooms, 5 bathrooms and an open living and kitchen space that covered the whole of the back half of the downstairs of the house. With a swimming pool, hot tub and basketball court all in the backyard and a view of the Hudson to die for, anyone would mistake it for paradise on earth.

Once upon a time, he’d get excited about coming home, the smell of dinner being cooked wafting around the house, music permeating the whole of the downstairs, windows lit, guiding his way up the large driveway as his driver pulled in through the gates. But that was then. That was before.

Sure coming home was still his safe place. The place he could mostly let his guard down when work wasn’t being brought home, but it was quieter now. It was darker now. He had to switch the lights on himself. Instead of sitting down at the dinner table, a meal prepared and laid out for him, he now fixed himself a drink from the bar cart, sat at that same dining room table and drank alone. Day in, day out, that same routine ever since she left. His Angel.

Everything had been harder since she left. Work was harder. Getting up and living was harder. Suddenly he had to factor in extra costs she had been taking care of; weekly shopping, the cleaner, the gardener. Heck he had even paid out for a storage facility to hold all her things. He had the whole house redecorated because everything reminded him of her. She was his everything, they were going to rule the whole city together. But now it’s just him. 

He reached forward for the small drinks tray in the car, pouring himself a finger of whiskey from the decanter. He unbuttoned the top buttons of his shirt and ruffled up his hair as he slumped back into his seat in the back of the car, his head leaning back against the headrest.

“Everything okay back there boss?” Miguel asked from the driver's seat.

“Hmm, yeah.” Peter sighed as he forced himself to make eye contact with his driver through the rear view mirror.

“It’s her again isn’t it.”

Peter said nothing.

“You know boss, I knew she’d be nothing but trouble when-“ Miguel began to berate as he pulled up to the main gate, waiting for it to slide open with their arrival, but Peter’s demeanour suddenly changed, a frown pulling at his brow as he suddenly looked past the reflection of his driver and out the front window of the car. There were lights on in the house.

Peter’s hand slowly began to run along the carpeted roof of the car, his fingers pushing on a particular spot that revealed a compartment that concealed an emergency gun. His fingers tentatively closed around the handle as he brought it down, his senses continuing to assess the situation as Miguel drove slowly up to the house, careful to make as little noise on the gravel pathway as possible.

As they grew closer, Peter’s tension only grew as they realised the front door had been left open. The car had barely stopped when both men tentatively got out of the car, their doors left open in front of them as they each raised their pieces, scouting for danger. Peter motioned for Miguel to watch his back as he slowly edged his way around the car, the placements of his feet careful and quiet. As he got closer to the door he could hear music echoing down the hallway. 

His feet stepped gingerly through the foyer as he followed the sound. 

“Well, then suddenly there was no one Left standing in the hall, yeah, yeah In a flood of tears That no one really ever heard fall at all”

All the way down the hall nothing seemed a miss. Everything was still tidy. No one had broken in to ransack the place and he was definitely sure if they had they wouldn’t be blasting Stevie Nicks in the kitchen whilst they did it. He held a hand up towards Miguel who had slowly been following behind him. He could hear the sound of oil sizzling in a pan and then-

“Well I went searching for an answer, up the stairs and down the hall, and not to find an answer, just to hear the call of a night bird…”

He’d know that voice anywhere. Her voice. Angel. 

It had been so long, almost like a charm that disarmed him, he began to lower his weapon, his stance relaxing. He quietly motioned his hand for Miguel to leave and they both shared a silent nod of understanding. Peter took in a deep breath as he confidently strolled through the doorway into the kitchen. 

She had her back to him as she danced across the tiled floor, lost in the music as she cooked. It was just like before- but it wasn’t. She had left. He had erased her entire existence from his life. 

He put the safety back on his gun and dropped it forcefully on top of the large kitchen island. He expected the sudden noise, the announcement of his presence, to at least shake her, startle her in some way, but she didn’t so much as flinch.

“Honey, I’m home.” He further announced himself.

She finally turned to face him. A part of him couldn’t help but melt when she turned, wooden spoon held aloft, mid-air,  as she turned and smiled at him. 

“I’m just adding a few more bits and it’ll be ready.” She beamed, her voice calling to him over the music and the sizzle of the vegetables in the pan like nothing was wrong. Like she hadn’t been gone for three years.

He rolled his eyes as she turned her back to him again, continuing to sing the last chorus of the song as she cooked. He raised his hands, confused, exasperated, unsure of what to do with himself. He ultimately found his feet already carrying himself to the bar cart, his usual routine kicking in. Was it his usual routine though or the sudden need for a strong drink to help get him through this inevitable conversation.

“I see you’ve redecorated.” she chirped.

He didn’t respond, leaving a long pause as he poured his drink.

“Darling, how did you get in?” He instead said, changing the subject as he took his usual seat at the table.

“The front door.” She innocently responds. “By the way,” she adds, turning to face him with both frying pan and wooden spoon in hand, as she continues to stir, “my birthday Peter really? You couldn’t come up with a more original security code?”

“In my defence Princess, I wasn’t expecting you to come home.” he said, his lips pulling tight.

She pursed her lips, raising her eyebrows in defeat and giving a small nod as she turned back to the stove.

He watched her from his spot at the head of the table as he sipped on his drink, his fingers drumming on the seat of his chair between his legs as he spread out, trying to look confident in his own home. He couldn’t help but let his eyes roam over her form as she turned off the knobs to the hob and the oven.

He felt a small sense of pride when she went to the cupboard to find the plates, only to realise he’d also replaced and moved those too.

“You moved the plates.” She sighs, her fingers drumming on the wooden cabinet as she took in a deep breath. When he didn’t immediately respond she turned her head to stick him with her piercing gaze. 

“They’re this side on the left.” He finally said, pointing towards where the cabinet would be on the other side of the island to him.

“Thank you.” She curtly replied as she moved across the kitchen to retrieve them.

She serves up the dinner, switching off the extractor fan, suddenly plunging them both into silence as she carries the two plates of food over to the table. 

Their eye contact is tense as she places the plate of food in front of him, so much needing to be said. Things that should have been said before. Things they’d both wanted to say since.

They continued to dance around each other in silence, cutlery scraping against plates as they ate. Peter didn’t want to admit it, but he’d really missed her cooking. He’d missed her altogether- but he knew he couldn’t get too attached. He didn’t even know why she was here in the first place, let alone how long it was for.

He let his eyes gaze along the long table towards where she sat up the other end and only then was it that he noticed the large envelope on the table. He stared at it, frozen, his hands resting his cutlery either side of his plate, his food now forgotten.

“Princess, whatever you do, don’t tell me those are divor-“

“Peter, my father's dead.” She blurted out. Her hands were now in her lap as she looked absentmindedly at a spot on the table.

“What?” Peter said tentatively in shock as he waited for her to look at him.

She looked around the room for a moment before she said it again, still not able to lock eyes with him. “My fathers dead.” He watched as she suddenly steeled herself. She pushed her chair back from the table, pushing herself to a stand with the arms of the chair. Her heels clacked across the floor as her fingers ran along the wood until they found the envelope that lay in the middle of the table between them. Peter leaned back in his seat to look up at her as she moved closer, her hip leaning against the table top as she handed the envelope to him.

Peter tentatively opened the envelope, his fingers reaching for the paper inside. 

“It’s his will.” She said as his fingers pulled the paper from its sheath and began to scan the text on the paper. She watched as he began to flip through the pages until he was on the last one as he froze. “He left you everything.” She said out loud, confirming what he was reading.

He looked up at her in shock. “But, I don’t understand.” He said as he began to reread the final page to be sure. “He hated me.” He said as he looked up at her again. “That’s why-” Peter couldn’t say it. That’s why she had left. 

Her Father had made her leave. He was his rival, she had run off and married the enemy and he had made her leave. Forced her onto a plane and took her who knows where. Well Peter knew where. Northern Italy. He had had Eddie go looking for her the moment he’d gotten home and found her gone. Their room ransacked, suitcases missing.

“Why would he leave me everything?”

“Because he couldn’t outright leave it to me.” She said.

She wasn’t bitter. She was calm, confident, aware that now she was back by her husband's side. The only place she’d really wanted to be. Her fair, just husband, who, although called her Princess, had always treated her like his Queen.

“Baby, how did he die?” Peter asked as he rose from his seat to stand in front of her. His head hung low, his forehead almost touching hers. It was the closest he could allow himself to be to her right now.

Her eyes gazed up into his and he watched as her expression changed. A fear grew in her eyes in a way he had never seen before. Even when he had first met her on the edge of 17, when his whole empire wasn’t even a dream. When she was still afraid of her Father and his job, even then he hadn’t seen this kind of fear in her eyes.

“He couldn’t let him have it.” Her voice was small, timid as tears began to well in her eyes.

“Who? He couldn’t let who have it?”

He was patient as he waited for her to find her voice, to bypass all of the painful memories that seemed to be flooding her. 

“They call him the Vulture.”

--------------------------------

New chapters will drop every Friday, but it's okay, you don't have to wait for chapter 2, this is a double drop and it's already waiting for you right here!

If you want to be added to the tag list be sure to let me know in writing or re-blogging this post. All of these initial tags come from the likes on my original teaser, as well as the prologue and those who re-blogged that post and asked to be tagged. (I will not be adding on tags from likes alone from her on out, so if you want the tag you have got to ask for it.)

@scmdsblog @angiexsv @thef1nalgirl @did-someone-change-my-name @sincericida @tarzinnia @liz-allyn @blacksoul09 @humxncrxvings @sunnycolors @suicide-sweetheart636 @ahryi @ms-wild-card-56

(If you liked the prologue or teaser post but haven't been tagged, it's because for some reason I could't, maybe check your settings and be sure to hit the follow button so you don't miss out.

[proton-wobbler]

Finals: Pretty Birds

Purple Honeycreeper vs Pink Robin

sources under the cut

Purple Honeycreeper (Cyanerpes caeruleus)

Cyanerpes, from the Ancient Greek 'kuanos' meaning "dark-blue" and 'herpes' meaning "creeper"; caeruleus meaning "dark blue" in Latin

eBird sightings: 29,552; IUCN Redlist Rating: Least Concern

Feeding on nectar is how this honeycreeper developed its bill shape- the bromeliad flowers it prefers are also shaped in this way. These small birds forage together in groups and are described as bold and inquisitive. They will often respond to the sight and sound of predators by mobbing, a behavior where multiple 'prey' animals surround a predator and try to annoy it away from the location.

Pink Robin (Petroica rodinogaster)

Not a European Robin or an American Robin, but a secret, third thing. (An Australian Robin)

eBird sightings: 4,981; IUCN Redlist Rating: Least Concern

The placement of Petroicidae, the family of the Pink Robin, on the songbird family tree is uncertain, but the current theory is that they are an early offshoot of the 'Passerida' parvorder, otherwise known as "advanced songbirds". This would put them outside of a lot of other Australian songbirds, who belong to the 'Corvida' parvorder. (A parvorder is basically as granular as you can get withing the 'Order' classification before you have to call something a 'Family' instead. Taxonomy is complicated)

Images: Honeycreeper (male & female - Mike Hudson); Robin (male & female - David Adam)

[uranniumgirls]

DID I HEAR SOMEONE SAY CBS GHOST OC LORE?!

sorry I’m a bit deranged over Jonell and Hugh.

I’m gonna start with Jonell first since she’s my fav (sorry Hugh)

BIG TRIGGER WARNING!!

Cw: Abuse, child neglect, murders.

✉︎ -

✉︎ -

Jonell Manio, born in 1917, was the daughter to a notorious mob boss in Long Island, New York. She had 3 older siblings and was treated like she couldn’t take care of herself.

Her dad kept her in the house for a majority of her life, often making the maids and butlers watch her despite most of them having their own tasks to take care of. She never knew her mother in her life as a chuld and often looked to the maids as her mother.

She was a quiet child and stuck around the gardens and lake side of their manor. She played with insects and frogs until her dad scolded her and threatened to beat her with his belt if she acted like that again.

Jonell often hid in her room under her sheets after an argument broke out between her father and siblings. It was because he’d always take his anger out on her.

Her left forearm’s slightly crooked due to the fact she fell out of her third story window and landed on her arm. She was out there for a good thirty minutes before one of the butlers and maids found her and rushed her to the hospital. It’s honestly a surprise she hadn’t died from any kind of elemental poisoning.

Eventually at the ripe age of 22, her dad basically sold her off to some other New Money family. She got an arranged marriage and married Richard Holtz, the cover boy of a modeling company.

Her relationship was full of love bombing, neglect, physical abuse, and restriction. He often had someone watching her and noting what she’s doing while she’s cleaning the house and making him dinner.

Eventually after her first child, she had found out Richard was cheating on her. She ran away and eventually found safe haven on Woodstone Mansion’s large woodsy property after a week of running.

She eventually was found by Richard and was murdered by stab wounds and suffocation when he buried her alive.

Jonell was in the dirt for almost 70 years but she spent 50 of those years with Hugh, their hands intertwined for those 50 years.

✉︎ -

✉︎ -

NOW ONTO HUGH!!

Hugh Martin Daniels was a wealthy British boy near London. He grew up with a tight, warming family that appreciated some oddities and out-of-the-ordinaries. He had three siblings, one older and two younger. He was close with both his mother and father but more in tune with his father due to the fact of their love of puzzles and hunting.

He and his older brother, Lewis, were closer than anyone. It was mainly due to Lewis’s eccentric personality and behavior that managed to get Hugh out of his stoic shell as a teenager. That was until Lewis had died. The Coroner ruled it as an accident but Hugh knew it was murder. After months of investigation, he managed to solve his brother’s murder at the age of 16

He became a success after his breakthrough and became a detective for London’s police force once he was old enough.

Hugh, after many years of detective work and in the spotlight, stepped out for a while to relax in the Hudson Valley in New York. He had always heard America was beautiful, and they were right. He visited his family’s friends, the Farnsbys, and stayed a couple nights there.

After his last dinner, he went out to the back to smoke a cigar. He got hit over the head, drugged with chloroform, and woke up in a casket beneath the ground. He eventually died of suffocation.

Hugh always had a negative view point of the world but it became somewhat neutral when he met Jonell Manio almost 100 years after his death. She was cheerful and kind despite being stuck in the dirt. He had basically memorized how her hands felt during their 50 years together in the dirt.

Once they got out of the dirt, he was immediately flashed by her ankles. They spent nearly 50 years bickering back and forth and now he was actually seeing her and gods WAS SHE BEAUTIFUL.

anyways heres a drawing of them getting married :3

[postgamecontent]

Ys: Book I & II (TG-16 Mini)

Fortunately, this is one of the games where Konami gave us both the Japanese and the Western release. Ys: Book I & II combines the first two Ys games, which are functionally two parts of one whole anyway, into one continuous adventure. And hey, this is our first CD game. In a lot of ways, the PC Engine/TG-16 didn't really come into its own until the CD-ROM was released. It was a much-needed competitive advantage, especially in Japan. For example, this game.

Ys had already done the rounds on several computers and a couple of consoles by this point. A straight port would have been okay, but not very useful in enticing new customers. But the CD format allowed Hudson and Falcom to really juice this port up, with incredible audio, voice acting, and even some lightly animated cutscenes. Including Ys II in the package was a great idea, as this served as the game's console debut. All up, a good selling point for the add-on and NEC's ecosystem.

It's still a very fun game, even if it can be ridiculously grindy and wildly imbalanced. There's no way around the fact that you are going to spend a great deal of your time in this game cruising back and forth killing trash mobs. But the bump combat and great soundtrack make that work about as painless as it could be. It almost hits that same quality that makes idle tappers work. When the grinding's done and you're off on the more exciting bits, Ys I & II really shines. There's so much style and ambition here, and it actually manages to pull off most of what it's going for.

I've replayed the two included games so many times by now across so many formats that there isn't a whole lot of wonder in it for me anymore, but I always have a good time. I'm glad it's on this mini-console, because it's one of the big early titles I associate with the TG-CD. I would have liked to have had Ys III on here too, but we take what we can get. Play Ys somewhere if you haven't already!

[beardedmrbean]

WASHINGTON (AP) — The Supreme Court on Wednesday said it will hear an appeal that could upend hundreds of charges stemming from the Capitol riot, including against former President Donald Trump.

The justices will review an appellate ruling that revived a charge against three defendants accused of obstruction of an official proceeding. The charge refers to the disruption of Congress' certification of Joe Biden's 2020 presidential election victory over Trump.

That's among four counts brought against Trump in special counsel Jack Smith's case that accuses the 2024 Republican presidential primary front-runner of conspiring to overturn the results of his election loss. Trump is also charged with conspiracy to obstruct an official proceeding.

The court's decision to weigh in on the obstruction charge could threaten the start of Trump's trial, currently scheduled for March 4. The justices separately are considering whether to rule quickly on Trump's claim that he can't be prosecuted for actions taken within his role as president. A federal judge already has rejected that argument.

The Supreme Court will hear arguments in March or April, with a decision expected by early summer.

The obstruction charge, which carries up to 20 years behind bars, has been brought against more than 300 defendants and is among the most widely used felony charges brought in the massive federal prosecution following the deadly insurrection on Jan. 6, 2021, when a mob of Trump supporters stormed the Capitol in a bid to keep Biden, a Democrat, from taking the White House.

At least 152 people have been convicted at trial or pleaded guilty to obstructing an official proceeding, and at least 108 of them have been sentenced, according to an Associated Press review of court records.

A lower court judge had dismissed the charge against Joseph Fischer, a former Pennsylvania police officer, and two other defendants, ruling it didn’t cover their conduct. The justices agreed to hear the appeal filed by lawyers for Fischer, who is facing a seven-count indictment for his actions on Jan. 6, including the obstruction charge.

The other defendants are Edward Jacob Lang, of New York’s Hudson Valley, and Garret Miller, who has since pleaded guilty to other charges and was sentenced to 38 months in prison. Miller, who’s from the Dallas area, could still face prosecution on the obstruction charge.

U.S. District Judge Carl Nichols found that prosecutors stretched the law beyond its scope to inappropriately apply it in these cases. Nichols ruled that a defendant must have taken “some action with respect to a document, record or other object” to obstruct an official proceeding under the law.

The Justice Department challenged that ruling, and the appeals court in Washington agreed with prosecutors in April that Nichols’ interpretation of the law was too limited.

Other defendants, including Trump, are separately challenging the use of the charge.

More than 1,200 people have been charged with federal crimes stemming from the riot, and more than 700 defendants have pleaded guilty.