#chapter 3 is up on AO3

[meetinginsamarra]

The Curious Case of the Casablanca Killer

Deemed a three at best, the case of an invisible burglar in a historic cinema who stole nothing only caught Sherlock’s attention because he was bored. Also, he wanted to do John a favour. In the end, this proved to be a real stroke of luck. Otherwise, Sherlock would have missed an intriguing mystery that quickly ramped up in complexity.

The fic is complete and betaed.

Updates every Wednesday and Sunday.

chapter 3 is up on AO3 !

-----

Noticing John looking at him in surprise, Sherlock deigned to at least explain that he needed to acquire this Casablanca movie in order to get an idea what this drivel is all about.

“It’s research for the case, obviously,” Sherlock quickly added when he saw John’s raised eyebrow, “I gather you know it already?”

“Of course I do, it’s a classic.”

“That doesn’t mean one needs to watch it.”

“You’re just pissed that you have such a huge lack of common knowledge concerning modern culture.”

“Pah. I’d not go as far as calling this inane movie business culture.” Sherlock grumbled and forcefully hit the “send” button, making John chuckle.

-----

Please tell me if you want to be tagged as well!

 @peageetibbs @jolieblack @iamjustreading @7-percent @peanitbear @blchssd86 @totallysilvergirl

[deadliestgalaxy]

SPOILERS FOR GOTG VOL. 3 - DON'T READ IF YOU HAVEN’T WATCHED IT YET!

I have a feeling that everyone (who calls themselves fans) that didn't get the meaning of the ending in GOTG Vol. 3 has never read a single comic of them or is only a fan of some characters/relationships. Many complaints I've seen are about the end and Gamora and Peter’s romance, which sounds kind of childish. You don't need to agree with me, but I’d like to elaborate on that.

James Gunn's writing is always about the detail of things and he is not afraid to do something “bad” if it is the best for the STORYTELLING. This is what most of these people don't get: the most important part of these movies is the story they are telling. The characters help the movie tell the story, it's their story after all — but there's no protagonist or greater good that puts them above the narrative.

(This is different from Gamora’s death in IW btw. It was not the only way they had to make the story flow; they just wanted to “humanize” Thanos and by that, they chose to kill her character. It was an action ADDED not CRUCIAL to the story.)

Vol. 3 is about found-family and growing up; finishing cycles. They will always be family, as we will always be part of their story (that’s why we understand Groot now). However, life chapters end just like in real books, and these Guardians as a TEAM “chapter” has ended for them and for us.

This is very common in the comics. Most times they are all separated, doing solo missions, until something goes wrong and they reunite again. They never stop being friends, why would it be different in the movie universe?

But the end suggests they are not family anymore.

Did we see the same film? No, it doesn't. We can see that in James’ subtle writing: the way they all still respect each other, their understanding of one another, and how they all would die for themselves if needed. That won't change just because they are not physically together — just like when you finish school you won't ignore your best friends, even if you create new relationships (which you will).

But Gamora is not part of the family anymore.

Well, if you see it this way, I can't change your mind. What I can say is that the story IMPLIES that she still is, in fact. And the number one clue is that she (in 2 days) understands Groot. Remember, we also understand him because the fans are now part of the Guardians family — so understanding him and being family are correlated.

Anyhow, I know this is not enough for most people, so hear me out: Gamora’s arc is about respect and healing. She starts the movie skeptical about working with the guardians — she just wants the money— when in reality, she acts like this because she is AFRAID and feels PRESSURED to be around her “old” family.

Imagine: you died but then another version of you comes back without knowing anything of your present life. People will expect you to act in a certain way that maybe you started to act after you met them; they will expect you to like certain things you don't know of; people will EXPECT you to attend to their needs. It is a lot to swallow at once. You are afraid because you don't know them, you don't think you deserve all this love and commitment out of nowhere. So you run away. You run away to find things on your own, to grow out of this pressure you feel and discover the whole universe of possibilities you have ahead.

That's what Gamora did. But then, the mission went south and now she is stuck with her “old” team. The film shows us her character exploring the ship, listening to music... trying to understand them. At one point she even says to Rocket “You must be a very loyal pet for them to do all this for you” (or something similar). This is her way of putting into words how she visualizes the current scenario she was put in. Slowly she recognizes that they are a family, and by the way they act she finally gets how and why she also must have loved them in the past.

She goes from “I don't give a fuck”, not open to them, afraid and pressured to “I bet we were fun”, understanding and respecting them, even fighting for their family to survive.

(If she still didn't give a fuck she wouldn't have fought for them and with them when she could have just run away again.)

But she has already created new relations, so she goes back to those for now. It is what she is familiar with in this timeline. Does that mean she will never contact the guardians ever again? NO. Remember: James’s writing is about DETAILS, nuance. She is open to them again, and the final part of the movie shows this to us, especially her last interaction with Groot, Peter, and Nebula being friendly.

Oh, but Peter and Gamora will never be a couple again, their romance ended when she went back to the Ravengers.

… Again, if you see it this way I can’t change your mind. What I can confirm is that she doesn’t close herself to the team — especially to Peter — in the end.

When she says “I bet we were fun” it's the first time she acknowledges their former relationship without distancing herself from it. She could've said “I bet you were fun” or “I bet she was fun”, but instead she prefers to include herself with “we”. She pauses before letting go of Nowhere, stopping before entering her ship — what moves her forward is Nebula, who can see her sister’s changed attitude but still encourages her to take a step forward and go explore the galaxy, because she knows Gamora is not mature and ready yet for those feelings; just like she wasn't ready to be openly sentimental when Gamora joined the Guardians back in 2014.

And Peter is also not ready. Just like Gamora needs to find herself again and discover who she is, Peter needs too. He is lost without her after IW, we can see it during Holiday Special and in the beginning of Vol. 3 when he passes out because of alcohol abuse. Both don't know who they are in this new reality — and they will only find out with time. Time heals and reveals.

In the end, Peter doesn't have the same thought as in the begging: he doesn't want her to be who he once knew, he wants her as she is, this new version whom he still loves so much and wants to know more of. Although he wishes she could stay, he knows that she has her own time and while she learns about herself he will go do the same.

So yes, they’re not explicitly together as a couple in the final scene — neither they kiss nor make out, whatever you believe a relationship is made of — but they’ve changed and are open to one another. The last scene does not appear to me as an “I’ll never see you again”, but as a “Goodbye, see you soon”.

(Aside from all the small bits we had through the movie of a developing relationship between them; my favorite one being when Peter activates the auto-destruction code and Gamora smiles at him.)

Besides, you can't force anyone to fall in love in 48 hours!!

Yes, I also have some minor complaints about the story, but I can recognize that — with all the turbulence the characters and the production faced in the last few years — it was a satisfying end with a limited amount of time to a badass trilogy. The end is definitive but also open to future possibilities for all our favorite characters in their universe — some we might never see and it will only be to our imagination.

Again, you don't need to agree with me, but I had to do this, or else I would implode with thoughts. Thank you if read up here! My ask box is open if you want to talk more <3

[fosermi]

On this ARK we sail together...

@stillafanofsonic enabled me and I RAN with it.

[bobbinfire]

*choking for 3 weeks* *coughs up this chapter* *GASP* Where am I!? WHAT YEAR IS IT?!

The Deceiver- Chapter 4

https://archiveofourown.org/works/60638107/chapters/158870470

Attention High Guard. All must attend an interrogation we will be holding tonight. Some scouts have brought in 4 bots wondering the surface. We will be working to get information on Iacon's defenses and Sentinel's lans once we wake them up. All are asked by Commander Starscream to attend in order to provide the best display of intimidation.

Shockwave asks that nobody removes the gag on the golden one. Yes, he is unconscious even if his mouth is not.

Time to terrify some of Sentinel's spies :)

[trekscribbles]

The Bushwhack Job: Chapter Seventeen: The End!

Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter Thirteen Chapter Fourteen Chapter Fifteen Chapter Sixteen

(Disclaimer: This is a relatively rough draft and subject to change when I post to AO3. I'm just overly excited and want to share what I have.)

A soft clicking sound pulled him awake.

He couldn’t place it at first—his thoughts were fragmented, frayed like a threadbare shirt sent through too many washes. Whenever he tried to focus, a gust of pain would tumble through him and scatter whatever he’d managed to gather, and he’d have to start over. The clicking, though. It stayed consistent, a beacon through the fading mist.

Tick tick tick pop, click, tick tick tick.

“You missed the buried treasure,” said the voice in his head. Except it wasn’t in his head; it was at his side, next to the clicking sound. “There used to be a shed in June’s yard, I guess, and Elizabeth Classen wrote about a loose floorboard where she hid her letters from her family. When she moved away, she took her letters with, but left the money. Now it belongs to June.”

He took a breath, dragging himself away from the windswept pain toward the sound of her voice.

“Now that Lancaster isn’t around to bother her about it, it might actually do some good,” she went on. “Nate and Hardison are helping her authenticate the find. You know, with the paperwork and the taxes and whatever other boring things go with making official historical claims. It’s a shame. I would have found a better place for the money. They wouldn’t even let me smell it. Hardison was afraid of mold or something.”

“Parker,” he said.

She stopped talking.

The silence enveloped him, and panic clawed up his throat. “Parker?”

“I’m here.”

He opened his eyes, blinking in the faint light coming through the window. He was in his room at Sunny’s, lying with a quilt tucked around his chest and Parker sitting cross-legged on the bed beside him. She had her back against the wall and a lock in her hands, just like his dream. When had he dreamed it? It was after he woke up earlier, after he went back to look for her, back when she was—when she was... God, was she…?

“Are you real?” he whispered.

She tilted her head. “You mean like solipsism? Like, the only thing we can know exists for sure is ourselves, which means everyone else is only a representation of ourselves—myself? Er, yourself?”

“Parker,” Eliot gritted out. “Are you here?”

“Oh!” She dropped the lock into her lap and did what he couldn’t do, this time or the last.

She took his hand.

“I’m here,” she said, closing her fingers around his. “And you’re here. I don’t think solipsism is all that popular anymore.”

He lifted his free hand and laid it on his forehead, grinding the heel of his palm into his eyes. It was splinted and wrapped—he must have sprained his wrist in the second explosion—but it didn’t matter. She was alive. He hadn’t dreamed it. She was here, sitting next to him and being weird and he’d forgotten how much he loved that, how much he missed her, how badly he needed her.

“You remember me?” Parker asked.

Eliot spoke without moving his hand from his face. “I think so. I don’t—I don’t know, there’s still… How do you know what you don’t remember?”

“Hmm.” She rubbed her thumb over his knuckles, pulling him farther from the pain to center his attention on her touch. “Do you remember the time we stole a diamond that was actually a potato, but it turned out there wasn’t a diamond after all?”

“…No?”

“What about the time Nate hypnotized Hardison and he played the violin at that concert hall?”

“Um… maybe...”

“Or the time you were a minor league baseball player and you made a commercial for the Japanese energy drink?”

“That never happened.”

Parker laughed, and the sound filled Eliot’s chest, chasing out the empty ache and the tight, lingering fear. She was here. Fatigue weighed on him, filling his head with a thick, fuzzy haze of pain and disorientation, and nausea swirled in his stomach and his leg hurt, but the Parker on his bed was real.

He felt better than he had in days.

He took a grounding breath, trying to compose himself enough to look at her, but a sound at the door broke his concentration.

“Parker?” Hardison said. “Do you have those photocopies from—” He stopped, and Eliot lifted his hand so he could see him standing uninjured in the doorway, a laptop in one hand, his pants dusted with dirt.

“Hardison,” he said.

His voice was still rough, and Hardison’s eyes watered at the sound of it. He dropped the laptop on the dresser and kneeled on the floor beside the bed, wrapping his arms around Eliot before he could fully sit up. He seemed to be making an effort to be gentle, but Eliot pulled him closer, throwing his right arm around Hardison’s shoulder and pressing his fist to the back of his neck. His left hand was still in Parker’s, and he clung to it, pressing all the fear and remorse and relief he couldn’t voice into the contact.

“Hey, man,” Hardison asked unevenly. “You okay?”

Eliot nodded into his shoulder, and Parker pressed his hand, and the last of the fear coating his thoughts splintered apart. There were details he knew needed his attention—Lancaster and June and the other properties he and J.B. had found—but at the moment, he was content to let them exist in the background, a problem for his future self. For now, he wanted nothing else but to know that his people were safe, and he was safe, and that the void in his existence wasn’t going to stay empty forever.

Finally, Hardison eased back, and a wave of dizziness swept over him at the lack of support. When he blinked the spots out of his vision, Hardison’s hand was on his upper arm, and Parker had let him go so he could hold himself up.

“J.B. said you’d probably feel weak when you woke up,” Hardison said. “Hang on, I’ll get you some water. I’ll be right back.”

Parker helped him sit up as Hardison hurried from the room, stuffing a pillow behind his back to keep him upright. “Do you want to see your brain scans?” Parker said excitedly. “I kept a copy.”

“Uh… maybe later.” He closed his eyes and breathed through his nose to control the nausea brought on by the movement. He hated concussions. “The others are okay?”

His voice came out gruffer than he meant it to, but Parker didn’t seem to mind. She leaned back against the wall and stretched her legs over his lap, settling over him like a blanket. “Everyone’s fine. Well, except for Lancaster—he was inside the building when it exploded. Janish, too. But the rescue teams did get the guards you knocked out in the basement. I guess the staircase held up, and they were able to pull them out. They’ll all be fine.”

At least that was something. “The bombs were on a timer,” he said. “Lancaster stalled to keep me inside.”

“But you made it out,” Parker said. “You kept your promise.”

She said it like it was a given, like he was someone who could be taken at his word, and her certainty sent a spark of shame spiraling through him. He still had no idea who he had been before. Parker was a thief, Hardison was a hacker, Sophie was a grifter—criminals, all of them, but he knew in his heart that they were good. Even more so after they gathered together under the leadership of a man they respected, a man who had made them a family.

But Eliot? He wasn’t like them. He wasn’t innately good like they were. 

What hope was there that he could change?

Parker was still watching him, her head tilted, and he forced a smile to his face. “Yeah,” he rasped. “I promised.”

Parker opened her mouth, but footsteps in the hall announced Hardison’s return, and she let the conversation end.

Nate, Sophie, and J.B. followed Hardison into the room, and Eliot sat up straighter under their worried looks, trying to look as healthy as possible. Sophie moved to the head of the bed and took the chair from the desk by the window. 

“Parker,” she said, frowning. “He has a bullet wound in his leg. Should you really be lying on him?”

“I know where it is,” Parker said, lifting her foot to prove that her weight was distributed safely across his upper thighs.

Sophie shook her head. “Still, you probably shouldn’t—”

“It’s okay,” Eliot said, too quickly, afraid that Parker would pull away if Sophie kept talking. Her absence would hurt far more than the little bit of pressure she was putting on his injury.

Sophie studied him for a moment, her brow furrowed, and then handed over a bottle of water. “All right, but make sure to tell her if it gets to be too much. Here, drink some of this.”

“How are you feeling?” J.B. asked from across the room. He was standing just inside the doorway like he didn’t want to intrude, but at Eliot’s nod, he took another step toward the bed. “I can’t believe you don’t have serious brain damage, but your scans were encouraging. Your memory should return once you’ve had some real rest. Which means you’ll actually have to rest, and not go running off into any destroyed buildings or starting fist fights, and I’d highly encourage you to avoid getting blown up for a day or two. Got it?”

Eliot gave a weak laugh. “Deal.”

“I got the deeds,” he said. “The ones you got from Lancaster’s office. Sophie was kind enough to help me retrieve them before the building went down.”

Sophie looked up at him. “Is that what was in the envelope?”

“Yep. I’ve been posing as a messenger to the office for the last few weeks, trying to pick up information on Lancaster, so we thought it would be a good cover to pick up the deeds once Eliot found them. We just had to get him into Lancaster’s office.”

“Wasn’t hard,” Eliot muttered. “He relied too heavily on his security. The deeds were in a filing cabinet next to his desk.”

Hardison sat on the end of his bed, crossing his legs and setting his computer in his lap. “Well, I was able to take the deeds you guys found and the files Sophie downloaded from Lancaster’s hard drives, and I’m pretty sure I’ll be able to return the properties to their original owners.” He flashed a grin at Eliot. “You continued our job on Lancaster without even knowing it.”

His gaze drifted to Nate. When he and J.B. had decided to go up against Lancaster, they hadn’t meant to get the deeds. They were just going to try to keep him away from Sunny. Eliot was the one who had changed the plan, once he realized how many other people Lancaster had hurt. It had been an unconscious decision—a realization followed by an instantaneous adjustment—and he wondered now how much of that had come from Nate’s influence. Without meaning to, without remembering the details… had he done what he’d thought Nate would do?

“Sunny’s fixing something to eat,” J.B. said, his eyes on Eliot. “I’ll be back to check your vitals in a little bit. Drink that water, all right?”

He backed out of the room, and Eliot obediently lifted his bottle to his lips. It gave him a chance to let his hair fall over his face, hiding his expression while his emotions churned in murky circles.

Sophie laid her hand on his arm, anchoring him as his thoughts spiraled. “I’ve been thinking,” she said gently. “Until your memory comes back completely, you’re a bit of a blank canvas. You have a chance to be whoever you want.”

He shot her an uncomfortable glance. That was too lucky a guess to be coincidence, and one look at the careful way she met his gaze was enough to convince him that yes, she was posing this question intentionally, and he wanted to change the subject and turn their attention away from his gaping insecurities, but she had her lips parted already, and the way she watched him said that she had anticipated that, too, and that she had another topic ready.

Whatever I don’t know, we’ll make up, she’d told him. Not a threat, but an offer.

Who you were doesn’t matter. Who do you want to be?

He cleared his throat. “Anyone?”

“Anyone,” she said, squeezing his arm. “It’s the role of a lifetime.”

Hardison nudged Eliot’s foot. “How about a chef? You’re a wizard in the kitchen, man. You could open up a restaurant in Paris or something and serve all them fancy little plates with like two bites’ worth of food on ‘em. You know the ones.”

Eliot considered that. He had no specific memories of cooking, but the thought of sitting at a table filled with his team and his food gave him a warm, contented feeling.

But Sophie was shaking her head. “No, no, that’s too obvious. I think—hmm, let’s see—I think you’d be a dancer.”

“A what?” Hardison laughed.

“It’s perfect!” Sophie said when Eliot wrinkled his nose. “You’ve got the athleticism for it, you know how to lead and how to follow in a fight—it’s not that different from dancing. I bet you’d be so good in an improv competition.”

“I think he’d be a pirate,” Parker said.

They looked at her, and she shrugged and turned her attention back to her lock. “Then you could have a parrot.”

“You can have a parrot without being a pirate,” Hardison said.

“I stole a parrot once,” Sophie said. “Horrid little thing. It started yelling just as I was making my getaway.”

Nate leaned his hip against the dresser and raised his eyebrows at Eliot. “What about a cowboy?”

Eliot groaned, but Sophie tapped his arm excitedly. “No, no, that could work—you can ride a horse, and you can pull off the hat. We could get you a little ranch in Texas, and you can sit out on the porch in a rocking chair sipping iced tea—oh, I like that one.”

“I’m picturing more like a Gene Autry kinda thing,” Nate said, sounding far too serious for comfort. “A rodeo performer and a musician. Between the stunts and the singing, I think you’d keep busy.”

“What do you think, Eliot?” Hardison asked.

Eliot took another sip of water, sifting through the jumble of feelings and fragments of memory, aware of his team’s patient silence. He’d spent the last few days so worried about his past that he hadn’t given a thought to his future. The only skills he knew he had were fighting, and he’d assumed that made him a violent man. But Sophie had looked at that knowledge and said he could be graceful instead of dangerous. Hardison believed he could create something to share with others. Parker… well, Parker had called him a thief, but that was probably a compliment for her.

And Nate. Back in Lancaster’s office, Nate had said he was a good man. It was what made Eliot decide to go with him, even though he still hadn’t settled on the truth, even though every clue he had suggested the opposite. He’d wanted to believe Nate’s words. He’d wanted to live up to them.

Maybe he wasn’t a good man yet. But maybe it was enough that he wanted to be.

“Eliot?” Sophie said quietly.

Eliot looked at her, then at Parker and Hardison tucked against him on the bed, and finally at Nate. “I want to help people,” he said at last. “With you. That’s what we do?”

Nate smiled. “That’s what we do.”

Sophie squeezed his arm again and sat back in her chair. “You should rest,” she said, smiling reassuringly as she gave him one final pat and stood. She touched Nate’s shoulder as she went past, and he pushed away from the dresser to follow.

“Make sure he stays in bed,” he said, fixing Hardison and Parker with firm looks. Then he nodded to Eliot and stuck his hands in the pockets of his jacket. “It’s good to have you back,” he said.

Eliot nodded back. It was good. He was good.

Or if he wasn’t yet, he would be.

*

Eliot woke to darkness. Not complete darkness—a sliver of light winked over his face, and he turned his head to avoid it.

“I can’t see how that’s comfortable,” said a voice in the hall.

Eliot opened his eyes. He was still in bed, lying on his back with a warm weight over him. Light from the hallway cast a long golden stripe over his right side, illuminating a pair of feet propped up on the mattress next to his hip. He followed the feet to their ankles and knees—upon which his sprained wrist rested, keeping it elevated above his heart—and up crossed legs until he recognized the still form of Hardison on the chair beside him. His arms were folded over his chest and his eyes were closed, his head tipped back on the backrest, breathing peacefully.

“It’s hard to explain,” said a new voice. Eliot blinked, trying to focus his blurry vision on the figure in the doorway. Nate. He spoke in a whisper, and Eliot tilted his head reflexively toward his words. “Eliot doesn’t normally show his vulnerabilities. It won’t sit easy with him, being out of commission like this. He won’t rest well if he doesn’t know where the team is.”

“I see,” said the first voice—it took Eliot’s muddled thoughts a moment to match Sunny’s name to it. “I suppose it’s reassuring to them, too, after all you’ve been through.”

Them. Eliot looked down at his chest, at the golden hair tucked against his neck, the head pillowed on his shoulder, the arm sprawled across his ribs. Parker. She’d draped one leg over his, covering as much of his body as she could without actually lying on him, as though trying to physically hold him down.

“He’s a light sleeper,” Nate went on softly. “At least now when he wakes up, he’ll know he’s safe. He won’t be compelled to search for us.”

“J.B. told you about that, huh?”

Nate was silent for a long moment. “This won’t be easy on him,” he said again. “When he starts to remember… They’re not all good memories. And from what J.B. said, it probably won’t all come back at once. He may remember the worst first.”

“How bad was the worst?” Sunny asked.

“Bad.”

A cold thread of worry wound around Eliot’s throat. He didn’t want to lose the progress he’d made, didn’t want to go back to fearing his past. He shifted toward the door without meaning to, lifting his head and shoulders, as if he could get anywhere with Parker and Hardison penning him in.

As if proving a point, Parker sighed in her sleep and burrowed deeper into his side.

“He’ll need us,” Nate said. “And he’s not used to needing anyone. And Parker and Hardison—” He paused, his voice low and fond. “They want to make sure he knows he’s not alone.”

Eliot relaxed into the mattress. Was that what they were doing? Placing themselves in such a way that he couldn’t possibly miss them? Making sure he felt their presence even when he wasn’t awake?

Parker’s fingers twitched on his chest, and Eliot looked down to find them resting on his necklace charm. She must have put it on him while he slept—which spoke to both her skill and his exhaustion—and the sight of it now filled him with determination.

He’d made a promise, and she’d returned it. However difficult the coming weeks might be, he would come through it—because he could do hard things, and he wouldn’t be doing them alone. 

“That’s a blessing,” Sunny said quietly. “That you all understand him so well. That you found each other.”

Nate chuckled. “I could say the same for you.”

“Me? I just gave him a bed.”

“You did a lot more than that,” Nate said. “And I’ll never forget it. If there’s ever anything you need, any time… it’s yours.”

“All I need is a promise that you’ll come visit once in a while,” she said, laughing.

“J.B. thinks he’ll be well enough to head home in a few days,” Nate said. He eased the door closed, but his voice still filtered through to Eliot’s straining ears. “But we’ll make sure to come by again.”

“See that you do.”

Eliot closed his eyes, lying back on the soft pillow with one hand resting on Parker’s side and his other across Hardison’s knees. Nate and Sophie were safe, and Sunny was safe, and J.B. and Miguel would take care of anything he couldn’t until he was on his feet again. For once, he wasn’t worried about how long it would be before he was strong enough to return home.

As far as he was concerned, he was already there. 

[ping-ski]

working on getting my bluesky organized + wiped my twitter of all my art!! ive got a laundry list of shit to get to this month :') now im tryna repost my old art onto bsky (starting with 2022 lego monkie kid then working up to recent fnaf dca stuff) and finally include alt text as i know my art has been inaccessible </3

my goal is to add alt text to my art here too! this may take me a bit but ill get it done if it means making my art accessible to more people im very sorry for not having done it sooner!

[robylovi]

Ao3 literally warned me that it would be shutting off for a singular hour (IT BEING 3:30 AM) and it still caught me mid fic

[adashulaz]

Chat, what if in my tdp arcane au I make Sir Sparklepuff Isha while Soren is Jinx?

Would that be cruel and unkind or silly and fun?

[it-happened-one-fic]

Hours in the Moonlight: Fairest Midnight - 3. The Same Red

Summary: Having lived for over a year, you really should’ve been more prepared for a vampire attacking you. But then, nothing could have really prepared you for an old friend appearing and saving you. Perhaps there was more to this situation than you had initially realized….

Type: Gender-neutral reader/ Vampire AU/ romantic/ angst/ angst with comfort/ fluff/ sfw/ platonic interactions too!

Trigger Warning: Vampire, Blood

Word Count: 1381

Hours in the Moonlight Master-List

The morning that followed Halloween started rather abruptly, with my phone ringing. It was Epel’s mother, the woman who ran the shop right across the road, where I often helped out when I had the time.

“Y/n! I’m so sorry to call this early, but we’ve been waiting on a delivery since yesterday evening, and it still hasn’t come. We just got a call that there was a wreck involving a delivery truck not far from here this morning, and… Well, I would send Epel, but what with these murders of late and people going missing…..” 

She trailed off, the hesitancy in her voice clear, and I let out a sigh before responding with the question that I didn’t entirely want to ask, “Where’s the accident at?”

“Oh, Y/n! You’re such a dear!” With new vitality to her tone, she proceeded to give me directions, numerous apologies for the trouble, statements of how she owed me, a slew of “thank you’s,” and at least three promises of free apple juice when I next came by the shop.

But I honestly would have been worried if that hadn’t been the case. That was just the way Mrs. Felmier was, and her nature was no doubt the reason that Epel was so polite despite his rough streak.

And I couldn’t blame her for not wanting to send Epel. Her fears were well-founded. There had been a recent uptick in the number of murders and missing persons. 

I didn’t know the reason for the increase in crime. But I suspected that was the same reason Vil had scolded me quite so much last night. Which did imply that vampires were involved. But it was day, so there was little to be concerned about with this incident.

I was relieved, though, when I reached the road Mrs. Felmier had directed me to and saw the familiar delivery truck was not in a smoking heap. In fact, it didn’t even look like it had been involved in an accident. It looked more like it had broken down.

I shoved my hands deeper into my pockets and trudged over, hunching my shoulders against the cold wind.

Frowning, I noted that the hood was raised and the driver’s door was open, but that the driver in question was nowhere to be found. 

I turned a full circle, looking around in confusion, until a slight motion, visible through the windows of the building closest to where the truck was parked, caught my eye. I stared through the windows, recognizing the jacket as that of the one that was worn by the group that did deliveries for the shop, before making up my mind.

I didn’t know why he’d gone inside unless it had been to escape the wind or get better reception on his phone, but at the very least I could ask him if he knew how long he’d be stuck here.

The door to the darkened building swung open with a pleasant jingle, despite the fact that the store appeared to be largely abandoned and cast off in the shadows of the street. 

I stepped in, glancing around to find exactly where the driver was as I began speaking, “Excuse m-” 

I froze, my eyes widening as the delivery truck driver fell to the ground from where he had appeared to be standing in front of the window. 

The body dropped to the ground like a sack of potatoes, totally lifeless. A woman wiped her mouth, leaving an ugly red smear across her face as she looked my way from over the body. My breath caught as I realized that the same red that was on her face also decorated the man’s neck.

I didn’t bother screaming when she smiled,  and her beauty was clear even as her fangs flashing slightly in the shadows that I now realized were probably the only thing keeping her alive. 

A small, logical part of me acknowledged that screaming would have just dragged some other hapless person into this mess for her to kill, and I even went so far as to silently question how a vampire had gotten herself stranded out during daytime hours.

The more frenzied part of me that followed my instincts had me turning to run as I felt adrenaline shoot through me at high speeds, kicking me into action despite my shock at what I’d found.

But this wasn’t my first time encountering a vampire. If I could just get out and into the sunlight, I would be fine, and then I could figure out some way to keep anyone else from going in there. 

The vampire released some sort of horribly cry behind me before taking off, slamming the door that I’d just tried to exit through shut with a loud bang as I fumbled backwards, my legs working overtime as panic fully seized me. Making my motions sloppy even though I desperately needed to be at my very best if I wanted to survive.

I’d barely even made it two inches before she’d reached where I’d stood, hissing at me like an insane person as she made to grab my shoulder. I pitched myself to the side and hit the ground hard.

I barely even heard her outraged shriek over the sound of breaking glass that filled the air. I rolled to look up at what I’d expected to be my last sight before death, only to find a familiar form slam into the woman with a power I hadn’t realized my friend possessed.

Rook grappled with the woman, her fingers tearing through his coat as if the fabric meant nothing to her. 

He grunted slightly as her hands clawed their way down his arms in a bruising manner, but he persisted in shoving her backwards as he struggled against her inhuman grip and fought to shove a pointy piece of wood downwards and into her chest.

I scrambled backwards, my widened eyes never leaving the scene before me as I dug my way back up to a standing position. 

The vampire shrieked, straining to either bite Rook or free herself, but was apparently incapable of either.

Rook, on the other hand, wore an expression of singular determination as he ignored her crushing grip and the way she snapped at him. Instead, focusing on killing her.

 It wasn’t the behavior of someone inexperienced, nor did he seem surprised at all by the situation at hand.

But then, I suppose I couldn’t entirely talk. While I’d been surprised to see a vampire during daylight hours, seeing one wasn’t actually odd considering my history. Though this was the first time I’d been attacked in quite some time…. 

Apparently, having been under Vil’s protection had inadvertently led to my becoming unprepared for such situations, even despite my past.

I found myself running forward, reaching around my friend to grasp the wooden stake and add my strength to Rook’s. 

I gritted my teeth, doing my best to ignore the shrieks of the woman that somehow drew no attention to the darkened building that now housed the three of us.

It felt like hours had passed in the span of mere seconds, but with a final shove, the wooden stake plunged forward and directly into the woman’s chest and I looked away. Blocking the sight with Rook’s back even though I could clearly hear the sickening squelch.

My throat was tight as I stumbled away from both Rook and the vampire.

I’d seen a lot and done a lot, but helping kill someone, even if that person was a vampire, was easily enough to have my hands trembling and my throat constricting.

The vampire gaped down at the wood that stuck out of her chest before looking directly up at the two of us and turning to ash right before our very eyes. The only thing she left behind was a signet ring that sparkled dully in her dusty remains.

Rook fell against a wall, his chest heaving slightly as his green eyes turned to look my way, and the reality of everything that had just occurred began to sink in.

I’d been attacked by a vampire during the day, and Rook, my longtime friend who had introduced me to my nightly vampire visitor, had just saved my life.

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[piningpercussionist]

transfem scott getting lots of support from ramona and kim in the early 2000's when shit's very taboo but they all 3 have a fire forged bond and lord if they aren't going to make sure they're all as happy as they can be because they've come this far and I dunno it just makes me happy all three of them

YES YES YES

It makes me very happy as well,,

Like I've said before. General Trans Scott enthusiast here- I love the idea of their little support network *violent coughing* I (we?) mean polycule *violent coughing* so fucking much.

Ramona I think has a bit of a more gentle hand with reassuring Scott with gender issues, but sometimes she just can't help herself from some pointed banter or teasing- how could you with someone so dense? (Said w affection)

And then Kim I think is more blunt. But like, in a good way mostly, you know? The kinda blunt that makes you snap to attention and go "Oh. Yeah that was silly of me." And if Ramona's started some sort of banter? Kim is SO piling on. Maybe sometimes she's a bit TOO blunt with it- but it's only because she's so firm in her support. She wants Scott to Get It Together- and be happier for it. So if some ribbing now and again is in order, then goddamnit she will do so! Anything to crack that shell.

And ohhh can you imagine how they would react to some transphobic bullshit?? Unholy terror would be driven into the offender before they walk off with an absurd amount of coins between them. I can feel it in my bones. Scott doesn't even have to lift a finger (if the transphobe is even noticed/processed at all, bc I honestly can see Scott just. Not realizing someone's being transphobic.) Kim giving someone a lashing with her tongue as distraction and then Ramona coming in with the hammer- BAM! Free Money! Paying literally with your life for your transphobia. A Better And Just World.

And of course (transfem Scott more specifically, here,) the way Scott would start to flourish under their support... cagey and maybe a little (perhaps a lot-) resistant to start- but Kim's blunt affirmations and no nonsense attitude for bullshit (which is what Scott insisting on "being cis" would be, c'mon now,) and Ramona's also low bullshit tolerance but less Stabby (bc I won't lie, that's probably how Kim's comments would feel,) assurances? Ough... My Heart... Be Still-

I would Kill for them, Your Honor-

(Ran out of tags so putting this in the body of the post- I am SO tired someone pls sound off if this isn't as coherent as I am hoping this is. I WAS trying to nap and get the extra sleep I desperately needed but the writing bug... it Bit Me.... only a little but enough to stop that process-)

[ontosgold]

hi! first off i wanted to say that i love your art so much its so so pretty and secondly i was wondering, since youre like the ceo of ryomina, if you had any good ryomina fanfic recommendations ? :>

THANK YOU :D !! and hehe thank u for giving me the chance to ramble abt the two ryomina fics that have been consuming my brain lately (that are both written by my lovely fellow ryomina ceos <3)

first off !! the twilight wants him back by @chatlote

it's a canon divergent fix-it fic that takes place from november onwards featuring sees ryoji :> I think my favourite thing abt this fic is the way lina characterises both ryoji and makoto, like I genuinely adore how she writes them in this fic. both of their inner worlds feel so rich and detailed and i adore how the pov switches give us a look into makoto and ryoji's different outlooks !! seeing makoto and ryoji's different perspectives on the same events is so interesting and it adds so much depth of their interactions. it's been such a joy so far to watch those two slowly get to know each other while also exploring how makoto's dealing with everything he's experienced up until then (the way she shows how makoto's been dealing with loss is so. augh <3) and I'm so excited to see where this fic is headed ^_^ every update has me kicking my feet in excitement hehe

and then there's persephone's curse by @sweet-sirin

this fic took me on such an emotional rollercoaster that it hasn't stopped rolling around in my brain since I read it. it takes place post canon and if u know abt persephone than u can probably take a guess as to where this fic is going. I don't wanna say too much bcs I think this fic is best experienced knowing as little abt it as possible but its just a beautiful exploration of ryoji and makoto's characters and just how stubborn they can be in their own ways, especially ryoji. there's so many scenes in this fic that are just stuck in my brain. it felt like every single scene and every piece of dialogue has some sort of underlying/second meaning and it was a ride unpacking everything as I was reading. everything feels so purposeful and meaningful its just so. augh. it emotionally destroyed me and I don't think I'll ever recover <3 it'll live in a special corner of my brain forever

Also !! I haven't really gone down the ryomina fic rabbit hole myself yet so if you or anyone reading has some fic recs of their own please send them my way !! 🙏🙏

[ghostrowan]

Chapters: 3/? Fandom: 恋与深空 | Love and Deepspace (Video Game) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Qin Che | Sylus/You, Main Character/Qin Che | Sylus, Shen Xinghui | Xavier/You, Main Character/Shen Xinghui | Xavier, Li Shen | Zayne/Main Character, Li Shen | Zayne/You, Qi Yu | Rafayel/You, Main Character/Qi Yu | Rafayel, Li Shen | Zayne/Qin Che | Sylus Characters: You, Mephisto (Love and Deepspace), Shen Xinghui | Xavier, Li Shen | Zayne, Qin Che | Sylus, Greyson (Love and Deepspace), Wanderers (Love and Deepspace), Qi Yu | Rafayel Additional Tags: Slow Burn, Blood and Injury, Eventual Relationships, Not Beta Read, POV Second Person, Needles, Medical Procedures, Hurt/Comfort, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Enemies to Lovers, They/Them pronouns for MC Summary:

After a run-in with a wanderer, your friendly (and one not so friendly) relationships with the boys starts making you question how you really feel about them.

 I'm so sorry, I'm awful at summaries! I'll update it when I think of something better!

[marimeeko]

Happy New Year, I got my first chapter up on my AO3, and I did edit a few spots.

Oh man it's been so long since I seriously uploaded my writing >///< I'm full of nerves.

Reminder/warnings: It's Bakudeku eventual romance. If you don't like, don't read. Lots of mutual pining, hurt/comfort, angst, Izuku being kind of oblivious, and Katsuki being a besotted fool. You know, all the classics.

[tar-4-all]

Long time no see.

Sorry I'm late, but I did give fair warning. Enjoy 4 and Tartars oil filled antics! They should be crab tank free now. Right?

PSSST Merry Christmas!

[roaringwish]

Searchlight Eyes

My commission info  

[thatruerealmwalker]

The Madness We Realized Working for Playtime Is

The Pipeworks 1: Karl’s First Assignment- Oh god why this?

Read on AO3:

HERE.

Karl Kingsworth is a simple man. Someone who doesn't have much ranking in Playtime's "Pipeworks" sector of the company, but still somewhat good at his job. He gets in, fixes the "leak", gets out.

But when he's assigned to a Leak that the BOSS would cover... well he's not doing okay.

Especially for what the damn "leak" actually is.

HOW DID THIS EVEN HAPPEN?!!?!?!?!

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

Soundtrack: Ryūnosuke Naruhodō ~ Overture of the Adventure - The Great Ace Attorney

Karl, a junior staff member at Playtime Co's Public Relations office, often referred to by the staff as "Pipeworks" due to it's unenviable reputation as "We fix the leaks when Playtime fucks up... every damn week", is standing in front of the door leading into a room where a very important “talk” will take place.

His first big assignment- and it has to be about this of all things. There is a almost zero chance that if he messes up here he won't end up as a test himself. 

Yeah that's right, he knows what Playtime really does. Everyone in the Pipeworks does. Playtime thought they couldn't let that happen for a while- Then escape attempts started happening and how else were they going to know what to say? That didn't stop Playtime from trying to wipe out the Pipeworks staff and bring in fresh faces- but the Boss put a stop to that quickly. Who knew that telling someone about the shit under your carpet would backfire, especially when it's their job to have contacts and manage the people managing Playtime's image.

That doesn't mean anyone in Pipeworks is off the hook if they mess up. They have a lot of leeway other workers simply don't, but completely failing is still lethal. And this right here? This is something Karl has been dreading once he was assigned to it. Him, low rank new face bitchboy got assigned something the Boss would have taken if he could- How is that fair? 

Of course the Boss and the top 3 were hard at work patching an even bigger leak involving a certain news company getting their hands of files that should have never left Playtime's doors. The dedicated teams weren't around either- Wrench was hunting down and trying to silence a potential whistle blower- the second this month- Hammer was dealing with the fact that the sane toy companies were suing playtime co for their next toy line push- because of course Playtime would try to make off brand Hotwheels and not ask Pipeworks if it was a good idea- and Driver... fuck Driver team was just GONE. No one knew where the hell they were sent. At least the Boss reassured the staff that they didn't get "terminated", just doing something hush hush.

And that left only the newbies and clerks to choose from for this assignment. 

Of course it had to be Karl. Wrong place wrong time- he swears to god Pierre was drunk when he selected him for the task- and by himself no less!

This is it... all Karl can think is that he's gonna get killed-

The door to the room opens up and he comes face to face with a young girl, probably an intern with how young she looks, looking at him with surprise.

"Oh you're finally here! Mister James was worried we would have to reschedule."

"Y-yeah... Just traffic got in the way. Are we getting started soon?"

"Mister James actually sent me to go get stuff for lunch since it's about that time- you haven't eaten already have you?"

Oh thank the lord above!

"Oh no! And I'd love to join you all! What are we having?"

She waves her hand back and forth in the air, "Nothing too fancy, just some deli sandwiches that got catered to the office today. Any kind you like?"

"I can go for Ham and Cheese if you have some?"

"Ham and Cheese... think so! Just head on in, I'll be back in a bit!" With that the young intern makes her way towards where Karl can only assume to be the cafeteria for the building.

At least he has some extra time... maybe he does still have a chance! Just gotta see if he can figure out how to make that chance in the first place.

Entering inside, the room is rather furnaced- well it's probably normal to expect a place to want someone to feel welcomed when talking... Playtimes own interview/guest/meeting rooms, despite the Boss and the Big 3 pushing it, still lack any real comfort. "You all don't need that, just make em shut up and go away!" is apparently what Pierre said to Boss's face last time he tried.

Karl can only wish that bastard hell for that. There is a reason why Pipeworks always sends staff out instead of inviting people in. Technically two- but everyone knows letting outsiders into the main building or even on the campus itself risks someone seeing something they shouldn't. The impressions a low quality room with a folding fucking table does not make good first impressions!

And by god does Karl need that here. 

“Ah, hello there. You must be Mr. Kingsworth. Such a fancy last name you have there my good sir.”

Sitting on a nice leather couch on one side of the room is a rather well dressed man. Brown hair curled up into a stylish cut, the suit he’s wearing being rather expensive looking as he gestures for Karl to take a seat. 

“Please, make yourself at home. It isn’t everyday I have a toy company, especially one as prodigious as Playtime wanting to work with my humble craft.”

Humble is a fucking UNDERSTAMENT. This person Karl is talking to is Alexander James- who happens to own a somewhat high class clothes line. You know, with a clientele that could most likely pay for an average American home in a single payment. 

Alexander James, who’s clothes make regular appearances on runways and fashion magazines. Alexander James, who should have NO investment in Playtime at all. Alexander James, who Playtime cannot make disappear or actually pay off.

As Karl takes a seat on the couches on the other side of the room, with a beautiful table he maybe would have actually paid attention too if he wasn’t dying from anxiety born from this entire situation, he only hopes he can actually cover this neatly.

“No need to address me as such Mr. James, I’m merely a representative for Playtime. Thank you for allowing this conversation under such short notice.”

“If we are to drop the honorifics, please, just address me as Alexander, Karl. Now, while I’m sure you’re as eager to start this conversation as I am- I believe we should first have some lunch no? May I suggest some tea while we wait? I recently had it imported from Japan. Supposed to help cleanse anxiety from the body, but it’s quite delicious as well.” 

Alexander gestures toward the tea set in the center of the finely crafted table that separates the two men. As much as Karl thinks he really shouldn’t impose so soon- especially when he hopes he can cancel this entire “deal” before it gets off the ground, the smell of the tea, which is that of a very sweet scent of cherry blossoms, one that Karl almost mistakes for vanilla, entices him to partake.

Time flies by after just a cup of some rather well made tea. Soon enough the intern returns with the promised lunch, the smell of the sandwiches adding to the comforting feeling Karl’s hosts provide. He only wishes he could feel that comfort when it would stick.

Lunch is eaten rather quickly, Alexander keeping tidy as he swiftly eats the well made sandwiches. The ham in Karl’s sandwich gives a wondrous crunch as the melted cheese mixes with the taste. It’s only the bread, softly sweet but not extremely so, that makes it a fine meal.

Once again, Karl wishes he didn’t have such a heavy burden on him to properly enjoy this.

The food is soon gone and messes cleaned up. Tea refilled as Alexander is handed over a folder from his intern assistant.

“I’m glad you have been enjoying yourself Karl, but I believe we should begin our talks sooner than later, don’t you agree?”

And now the bliss is gone, and Karl realizes he still lacks any plan… he really shouldn’t have indulged. With the poker face trained into him by his higher ups, he keeps a front of joy over his growing dread, a smile shining with false bravado, “Of course Alexander. Thank you for the meal and tea, it was quite a treat… so about the partnership.”

“Yes yes, so, I will be honest with you Karl, when your company reached out with this idea, it was quite a shock. But… It has sparked my mind to begin working on some designs already.”

Alexander opens the folder and begins to lay out several papers, all Karl briefly ignores in favor for the final items to part for the insides of the folder- the damn thing that started all of this.

A set of enlarged photographs… of the BBI Roxie and Catnap… posing in several company branded cosmetics… Not in the factory. Outside of the fucking factory. Seen by someone not connected to the company.

The humor at the situation is not lost on Karl. Honestly, if it was someone else from the Pipeworks, he would be laughing his ass off at it. But it’s happening to him. He cannot find humor in this. His very life could end if he messes up here.

Somehow, an employee was able to sneak in fashion magazines for the Critter sector of the BBI. Said employee was approached by Roxie who requested them to send these damn photographs to Alexander James’ designer office so they could “Become a model with my brother!” after seeing the ad for runway models for Alexander’s work.

Someone, they got the photos out, got it set up to where it was not some random person but the COMPANY sending the damn things- and kept it undercover for another 2 MONTHS.

How?

HOW?!!

HOW DOES THIS EVEN HAPPEN?!?!?!

Karl simply swears if he even encounters the racoon he’ll deck them in the face for this fucking shit show! If he can’t cover this up- It’ll be the last damn thing he does!

He would lash out at the apparent mastermind behind this instead, but they are currently locked in a cell as the company finalizes the “Farewell” procedures. God Karl can only hope no one else needs to be said “farewell” too. That’ll be even more work for Pipeworks if so- 

But all he has to do is make sure Alexander doesn’t… what?

Wait what hold on no that’s not how this was supposed to go-

Karl’s mind rebooted as he finally processed the last line from Alexander James… NO.

Eyes upon the paper placed down first- OH FOR FUCKS SAKE.

Karl was very close to breaking his false smile at this point… because Alexander made designs. MADE CLOTHES DESIGNS FOR THE FUCKING CRITTERS.

WHAT THE-

“Oh that’s wonderful Alexander. I’m glad you found the proposal that engaging… your thoughts on our models?”

“Well Karl, you and Playtime have outdone yourself. Those mannequins look almost life-like! How could I say no to such an opportunity to have some fun.”

OH THANK GOD- he thinks they're fake! Good good Karl can work with this and-

“I do hope when I get my hands on them I’ll be able to find which designs work best. Photos never do capture what I need to make my work shine.”

OH GO NO- Fuck Fuck Fuck- SAY SOMETHING- YOU CANNOT-

“O-of course sir!- we would just have to figure out how to get them ready on our part!”

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH- IDIOT. You can’t just-!

“Splendid! I look forward to cooperating with you all… I am worried about the bad press that using your… Catnap would bring. Can Playtime ensure that it wouldn't risk any bad press for the Magazine?”

Okay… There is still a chance! End the deal right here!

“I’m sorry sir but… they unfortunately come in a pair. We’re attempting to fix the bad PR done by the incident with the Catnap plushies but… I cannot ensure it. Maybe we can postpone this until it’s far safer to do the photoshoot?”

Alexander gives some time to ponder while Karl internally sighs. He almost messed things up real bad but he’s almost there. Just gotta make sure Alexander says no and he’s free-

“Well… Let’s give it a try. It won’t be my first controversial piece after all. It would be a waste for your kind folks to throw away the work you did with the large toys anyways.”

Oh no, “Are you sure Mr. Ja- Alexander? We at Playtime care deeply about our partner’s wellbeing. We can push this back if it would-”

With a wave of his hand, Alexander gives a chuckled laugh, “Thank you for your worry Karl, but I promise, there will be no hard in at least giving it a try. I’m excited to start soon all the same! It’s not everyday you get to make clothes for mascots after all!”

With a silent breath, Karl weighed his options. He knows for a fact that if those photos got to someone who knew just a bit more, this could end up being a leak the Pipeworks couldn’t patch up. The problem comes with Alexander himself. If Karl pushed for the deal to stop here and now… he might realize something is wrong here. The man already pointed out how life like they are, so he’s noted that. Karl can only hope he truly is that ignorant or disbelieving of the idea that those “mannequins” are really alive.

A half lie. Just say to the man that the toys are damaged and can’t be used.

“I’m sorry Alexander but… Playtime was hoping to drop the deal entirely.”

Karl suppressed a flinch when Alexander’s eyes snapped to his face like a spotlight, “Oh? For what reason Karl? Both we here and Playtime have put quite the bit of work into this already, no?”

“And you would be correct, however a… accident occurred recently and our, hehe, ‘models’ ended up getting damaged. The employe who caused such a thing has been reprimanded and demoted but-”

“Mr. Kingsworth.”

At the tone forming from Alexander’s lips, Karl’s protests died in his throat. Alexander was leaning forward now, hands interlocked with his chin over them- oh no.

“I would not survive in my line of work without being noticed when a clear lie is being told bluntly to my face. I’m no idiot Kingsworth. I had only hoped you’d be willing to keep things on track… but it seems I’ll have to force your hand.”

Sweat began to drip from Karl’s forehead as the worst case scenario seemed to come about, ���Now Alexan-”

“Mr. James, Kingsworth.”

“Mr. James, please, why would I have any reason to lie about this?”

A laugh bellowed from Alexander James, once that put fear into Karl’s very core.

Alexander gestured towards the photos that laid in the center of the table “To the common person, Mr. Kingsworth, these individuals in these pictures could be assumed to be only manufactured… The eyes have a watery shine to them and I wouldn’t miss the tongue shown on this one here.” He pointed towards a photo of Roxie with one hand wrapped around their “brother” and another doing a peace sign over their head. Both are wearing Playtime branded water coats- and that fucker is with their tongue out as they practically winks at Karl through the photograph.

He can at least agree with Catnap’s face- Karl’s was fucking tired of this yesterday.

“Now… All of this could be described as you attempting your utmost best to prove to me quality hand made models… and I would have bought that if that was your sell. I really would…”

Alexander leans back, fishing out a piece of paper from his suit that he treats with utmost care. Slowly unfolding it as if to make a point of Karl’s helplessness.

“If I didn’t get a letter from this… Roxie as well.”

NO.

NO.

THAT RACOON BITCH.

HE’LL FUCKING KILL THEM YOU CAN’T DO THIS TO HIM- WHY THIS?!!

Alexander, uncaring for Karl’s internal damnation of a certain purple racoon, begins to read out the somewhat messy handwriting of one Roxie Reedcycle: 

“Hello there Mr. James! My name's Roxie! Marie said she would send this to you so I wanted to add a letter! Me and my brother would be perfect models! All of your clothes are so cool and I really want to give it a try! Catnap says he doesn’t want to but he got vetoed- I’m not sure how Clothes would work with our tails- I mean it was really uncomfy trying on all the clothes Marie found for us. It just wasn’t good, I hate my tail being cooped up like that ya know! Maybe you could also figure out how to make it not itch so much? The clothes kinda made my stitches feel tingly and it wasn’t really good. I was scratching at it and everything and Naps had to stop me- I don’t think my fur likes cotton. : ( So maybe something soft? OOOOOO maybe silk! I’ve never worn silk before! I think DD would look wonderful in silk! Would you be okay with the others joined in too?! I can ask Marie if she can send more photos of them like the ones we did before! Hmm- Maybe I should see about stitching up some old clothes into some stuff for everyone- I think Bobby would love a dress! Maybe-”

At the sight of Karl’s now visible horror, his body deflating into the couch he sits on as he stares at the guillotine axe being read aloud in Alexander’s hands, Alexander stops reading out the letter and smiles so damn smugly at Karl, even if Karl would never dare point that out, “Should I keep going Mr. Kingsworth? I must say, I did enjoy reading this letter from such a dear fan of mine. So much details as well- stuff a company such as Playtime would never put into a formal letter. Little Roxie even talked about how much they wanted to try cake again after they was… oh yes “I got super yelled at when I stole that piece of cake. It wasn’t even stealing! Someone just left it out! Even if I got no food for dinner it was worth it though!”

This is a set up , it has to be. THIS WAS FUCKING PLANED- It had to be! No way that bastard Marie didn’t think this through. The fact they even set it up to be sent under Playtimes own names only adds to that! There has to be still a chance, Karl can't just accept this lying down. His life is on the line!

“Haha- Mr. James that must be just a mistake, we at Playtime Co would never condone-”

A slam of Alexander’s free hand on the table, rocking the tea set, quickly told Karl he lost the moment he came through these doors, “Mr. Kingsworth, here is what's going to happen. You’re going to set up a photo shoot for this child and their brother and friends, I’m going to make the best damn clothes I can for them, and Maybe I’ll remain quiet about the rampant child abuse your company takes part in. This is for the good of all of us, isn’t it?”

Karl could only nod at that- what could he do but follow along with the demands of someone who could absolutely spread around these images and letter to god knows who.

“Splendid. I hope you have a good day now! I’ll be looking forward to when we begin.”

That smile of a predator sinking teeth into prey… it’ll haunt Karl for a long time after this.

Karl’s mind doesn’t process leaving, or getting into his car, or driving home, or when he found himself on his bed at his dingy apartment, small tears running down his face as he stares at the fan slowly cycling above him.

Karl no longer can think about any of this. 

He can longer process anything anymore.

Because his very mind is consumed with absolute dread at what Playtime is going to do with him when they learn he FAILED.

He can only hope he’s just made into a toy. God he hopes that’s all they do with him. 

He can still remember the screams for the most recent tests on the properties of the poppy gas.

He can only beg that he won't end up like that.

Well… Maybe there’s a way he can avoid that fate.

Sitting up from his bed, a plan comes together. A desperate, half formed plan that could just make everything worse… but the best he has.

If he can follow along with Alexander’s idea while keeping the risk of an unfixable leak in check… and use this connection to Alexander to create a social barrier from being said “farewell” too…

All he needs to do is force the company's hand to allow this to happen. And by god does Pipework have what he needs to do that.

Well- Guess it’s time for an honest to god fashion show.

Karl is so fucked.

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And that's it for Chapter 1! I hope you all enjoyed! This was a crack thing I cooked up when talking to @visinox about the @realizinau. (look, someone has to be in charge of keeping Playtime's brand okay when Playtime is... PLAYTIME.)

Of course, since this is part of the Realizing Extra's AU, I couldn't not include the other parts from it. So thank you @iidgm for letting me use Roxie!

I may continue this if it's wanted enough, or hey, better yet even collaborate with even more creators on this project! Feel free to reach out if you ever want to chat about it! I love talking to new people about being creative gremlins!