#i like escapology okay

[the-modern-typewriter]

Escapology

“The game,” Damien murmured against Lysander’s ear, “is simple. Are you paying attention? I’ll only say it once.”

Lysander twisted his head on the plush mattress, trying to get a good look at the other man behind him. He couldn’t. Damon’s grip was firm on Lysander’s wrists, and the weight of him kept Lysander easily pinned down to the bed. Lysander did his best to pretend he didn’t enjoy that as much as he did.

“I’m going to set the timer for one minute,” Damien said. “And, every time you fail to escape within those sixty seconds, I’m going to make the task more difficult for you.”

“I’m not going to fail,” Lysander said. “Do you seriously still think I don’t know how to get out of a pair of handcuffs?”

“We’ll find out, won’t we?” Damien’s voice was perfectly placid by contrast. “Remember, if you want out, all you have to do is say please.”

“Yeah? How about, ‘screw you?’

“Bit early in the night for that. Maybe I’ll let you if you win.”

“There’s no if!”  

Lysander had been working with some variety of lock for almost as long as he’d had proper motor control in his fingers. He’d always had a weakness for locked things, for secrets, and for the physical and mental puzzle of untangling himself out of any situation he’d found himself in. He knew how to get out of something as simple as a pair of handcuffs! And if he did, perhaps, enjoy being restrained it was an enjoyment made greater by the inability to free himself.

He could always free himself.

Maybe, if he couldn’t, he wouldn’t have ended up in this room. With him.

The conversation, in short:

INT: BAR OUTSIDE OF LYSANDER’S SHOW - EVENING

Enter LYSANDER, daring and brilliant young escape artist, who crosses the room through a flurry of impressed fans and people begging to know just how he does it. He comes across a dashingly handsome man in the process of ordering a drink. This is DAMIEN. They look each other up and down, and strike a conversation. It escalates.

LYSANDER

You didn’t enjoy my show?

DAMIEN

Oh, I enjoyed it. But escape artistry is just a con - you always have a hidden way out. A trick.

LYSANDER

You think it’s a trick? I’d like to see you try and hold me!

DAMIEN

Alright.

LYSANDER

Excuse me?

DAMIEN

I said alright.

LYSANDER

You think you would be able to keep me, a professional escape artist, from escaping you? What, do you tie people up for a living or something?

DAMIEN

Yes.

Lysander stares at him.

DAMIEN

I work at Siren, down the road. The BDSM club. I’m a professional rigger.

Lysander continues to stare at him.

DAMIEN

Have I scared you?

LYSANDER

…So when should I come over?

“Do you have any more questions before we start?” Damien asked.

“You could at least cuff my feet for round one. This is just insulting.”

“That wasn’t a question. Do you have any questions?” Damien asked again, this time with an unmistakable amusement.

Lysander shook his head.

Damien pulled back from him and Lysander rolled onto his back. He propped himself up on his elbows and watched as Damien reached over and started the timer on his phone. He let the small silver key drop down on the bed.

“Are you not even going to try and hold onto it?” 

“55 seconds left…”

Lysander lunged for the key. His hands were behind his back, but he snatched it off the sheets with his mouth and spat it back over his shoulder, only slightly showing off when he caught it deftly. He scraped the silver up against the lock in search of the small hole that would spring him free.

The cuffs clicked loose and he looked up towards Damien with a smirk, somewhere between cocky and disappointed all at once.  

“I told you,” he said. “Honestly, after all your talk I thought you might last at least thirty seconds. They pay you for this?”

Damien hummed, not even watching. He was digging something out of his closet.

“You wouldn’t even have got them on in the first place if I didn’t let you,” Lysander added.

“Yes, yes, you’re very impressive. You did miss one detail though...”

Damien turned to face him, and his smirk back was that of a challenge matched.

Lysander’s spine straightened instinctively; a thrill shooting up him, though his brow furrowed with confusion.

“I said,” Damien set a bag down on the bed. “Escape.” He pounced, and Lysander went down again hard with a yelp and a tangle of limbs. He grappled with Damien’s hands, but was shoved down again, relentlessly. His wrists were yanked behind his back and the lock clicked into place. “I didn’t say, ‘get out of the cuffs,’ did I?”

Oh.

Lysander panted for breath, absorbing that new information in with interest. He tried to hold back a grin.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re a bastard?”

“Usually around the same time they’re begging me for more.”

He still sounded so calm, so implacable. It made Lysander want to wind him up and up and up until he lost it; another puzzle to undo.

“So how am I supposed to win, then?” Lysander asked, musing. “Get off the bed? Get out of the room?”

“Now you’re getting it.” Damien’s hands were busy wrapping a thick belt around Lysander’s arms, clinching them together at the elbow. “Except, of course, for one small thing.”  He stepped back, and re-set the timer, eyes full of a dark heady promise. “You’re not going to win.”

***

The alarm sounded.

Lysander was not winning.

Damien had bound his ankles after he lost round two, then his knees after round three. After a round four, he attached Lysander’s wrist cuffs to his ankles and left him in a hogtie.

Lysander had just lost round five.

He curled his fist around the key, not about to give it up without a fight. He didn’t have to. The only thing he’d been tasked to do was escape, not obey, or behave by any means. He scrambled back, keeping his gaze locked on Damien, his mind racing through his albeit limited options. Every time he’d managed to get himself free in time so far, he hadn’t managed to get past Damien.

Damien, who sauntered closer now with the sort of lethal grace more commonly seen in jungle cats.

Lysander swallowed.

“You’re looking tired,” Damien said. “Want to give up?”

“I want to point out that I’ve undone all of your ties.”

“And yet here you are, still helpless on my bed.”

Lysander swallowed a second time, but it didn’t make his mouth any less dry, especially when Damien went and said things like that. His back hit the headboard.

“I’m not helpless.”

“Not yet. We’ll get there, don’t worry.”

“I’m not – I don’t –” Lysander floundered. He didn’t know how to finish without lying and lying was not allowed for safety reasons.

Damien paused at the other end of the bed, considering him in turn.

Lysander realised after a beat that he was waiting for the end of the sentence. He exhaled, and squared his shoulders.

“Well,” he said instead. “I’m not going to just give you the key.”

“Of course not.” Damien said. He had that amusement in his voice again. He grabbed Lysander by the ankle cuffs and yanked him bodily down the bed. “Come here, then.”

It felt like Lysander should say ‘I don’t want to be helpless,’ but that wasn’t strictly true. He just didn’t want to let Damien do it. It was one thing during his shows when the various ties were complex spectacles, when he had to be conscious of nerve damage and height and a dozen different variables all at once. Damien wasn’t picking anything complicated that would be a particular mess to get out of. Perhaps that was the point.

Lysander kicked, all but throwing himself off the bed.

Damien reeled him back, working the key free from Lysander’s grip, before wrapping an arm around him.

“I’ll let you pick your forfeit,” Damien said, softly. “Would you like to be blindfolded, or would you prefer to be gagged?”

Neither concept was exactly new to him. None of this was exactly new to him, and yet it was different. He hadn’t expected how intimate it would feel, or the way that he couldn’t find the steady calm he usually found when he was working methodically free for practice. What he normally did was rote. It was him against something inanimate. Knots could be tricky but they were predictable.

It was impossible to think of Damien as something inanimate. Lysander’s heart raced, and he felt hyper-aware of his every movement, and the warmth of Damien’s hands and the scent of his cologne on the air. It was a little intoxicating.

For the first time, Lysander considered the possibility that he might actually lose this bet.

(He was fine with that.)

***

Lysander couldn’t see, couldn’t speak, and couldn’t move an inch. He was, well and truly, stuck.

Christ he couldn’t remember the last time that happened.

His chest rose and fell rapidly as he caught his breath, his muscles trembling with a peaceful sort of exhaustion. He couldn’t possibly get out of this anymore, could no longer fight, so it was okay to settle. His defiance had splintered. In the dark, he was a creature of sensation alone, world narrowed down, no audience to think of. It was overwhelming and…nice.

He didn’t think he’d get this feeling again.

Damien carded his fingers idly through Lysander’s hair, laying on the bed beside him. He seemed to be taking a moment to catch his breath too.

“Alright?” he asked.

Lysander made a sound of agreement.

Damien’s nail trailed down, curving along the edge of Lysander’s jaw, tipping his head up a fraction.

“I suppose,” he said, “that you are not a total con artist.”

Lysander huffed. He supposed he could say the same about Damien not being completely arrogant coming up to an escape artist and telling him he’d clearly never been properly tied up before.

“Ready to come out?”

Lysander was back the following week.

They both agreed it was simply excellent practice after all.

[kitzatara]

I know fans using the term Logomancy to refer to her backward magic, but I felt like there's more meaning to the title itself. The suffix "-mancy" actually refers to divination and prophecy. Therefore, any word ending in "-mancy" describes a form of divination, such as cartomamcy, which uses cards or tasseomancy, which uses tea leaves. So, Logomancy here basically means divination using words.

Just some thoughts about this! Also, I felt like only speaking backward to do magic is quite limiting to the term. Consider my interpretation, Logomancy could do much more like for example, with word play and riddles and stuff, IMO.

Okay so I have lots have thoughts about all this. I have a farfetched explanation for the logomancy, i don’t think backwards speaking is limiting, and she has cast spells lots of different ways in the past, so let’s get into it!

So with the mancy thing, I think it’s really funny/interesting how any type of mancer has come to mean that’s the type of powers they have as opposed to meaning divination. Like across all modern fantasy media everyone knows necromancers as people who raise the dead and have death magic powers. I do kinda wish it would go back but, not

With Zatanna i like that it’s called Logomancy because it’s a pretty unique type. Not many other characters are referred to a logomancer. It sounds cool, it’s camp lol. But you can kinda make it fit as “divination” because everything she says backwards comes true. So you can almost classify her spells as predictions that just immediately come true. It is a stretch but it’s technically true. She also does have the power to see the future and can do tarot so she can canonically divine with her magic, which helps it be defined as a divinatory power lol.

And she has cast spells with rhymes, through song, palindromes, runes, she’s done a whole lot.

Moving on to logomancy being limiting, and sorry this will get a bit ranty but I disagree. There’s this weird discourse around Zatanna speaking backwards to do magic and this idea that because she speaks it’s not practical, or that it means other magic users have an advantage of some kind. Which just isn’t true, and even if it were I think people forget that supeheroes are inherently impractical. They’re all a little silly, a little campy, it’s entertainment and we don’t need to logic our way around speaking backwards to cast spells.

And I’ve noticed characters with vocal powers in particular catch a lot of flack, “they need to use their voice/mouth” as if super strength doesn’t require muscle, or speedsters don’t need legs, or green lanterns don’t need appendages, or that psychics need brains, etc. All of them need something to use their powers, yet Zatanna and vocal heroes get treated like it’s a weakness which goes back to her powers being constantly disrespected.

Yes, Zatanna can do magic without speaking, but I don’t think that should be the norm,and I don’t want her doing nonverbal magic more than her backwards spells. She shouldn’t have to do nonverbal magic in order for her to be taken seriously or not be treated as a threat and powerful. And I feel that these discussions about having to prove she can do magic without talking shouldn’t really be a discussion. Logomancy is as old as Superman, it’s a tradition as old as DC’s premier Superhero and I’m tired of pretending that she’s somehow limited by using it.

Writers constantly gag her to depower her and if we want to talk practically it’s actually so difficult to prevent someone from speaking. And even if it weren’t, Zatanna is one of the top escape artists in DC continuity. Her Batman and Mr Miracle are the trinity of escapology, and we’re saying rope and duct tape can hinder her? And if it really were her weakness she could very easily take precautions to prevent that from happening. And then all of that is moot because she really can do magic without speaking and does it all the time.

It’s just frustrating because there’s so much to unpack with the discussion and so much history to disprove it. That’s the end of the rant part lol

Sknaht rof eht ksa!

[jackienautism]

I was watching the hierophant vision and um

Okay so like this is backstage, right? These trailers belong to the cast members I think so it should be behind or separate from the main show. How the fuck did Kaylee and Caleb find this place? Shouldn’t this place be off limits to visitors? Why wasn't Chris watching his kids? (Also wtf happened to Hank? His body's charred but the fire hasn't reached the cage yet.) I just want to write this scene from the kids pov but it's literally impossible with this game😫

ive never thought about this before but YEAH YOU'D THINK!!!!! the only thing i can think of is. maybe those specific trailers belonged in the show? maybe the trailer silas belonged in WAS the act? because based on the "side show act: silas the dog boy" sign above the open door, it appears that may have been the whole act? just watching silas while in a cage? which would make sense since. as far as we know there's no way to "control" or "tame" werewolves. yeah eliza could apply werewolf's blood but, what about everyone else? i assume the whole act was watching silas from a cage, as that's the safest thing to do

i bet kaylee saw how silas was being kept in a cage as a side thing to eliza's main act and decided to. i dont know. search around? figure out a way to give him his freedom? i can't think of any other way it could've went down. because if this IS backstage stuff, there's no way kaylee and caleb would've gotten access that easily. unless they snuck in somehow? but that clearly isn't explained. and also. what ARE the other acts, if any? travis said that the whole crew was also killed, did he mean only backstage crew....?

as seen in this screenshot, it mentions greta "the rubber woman" (bottom left) (i assume this is where the escapology stuff comes into play) so there HAD to have been more side / main shows / acts, right?

and you're right i dont know what the hell happened with hank dfkggkg dont even know why he was there in the first place, to be honest. was he there with chris? was he called due to a disturbance kaylee and caleb most likely caused? who knows! and who the hell knows what chris was doing when kaylee asked caleb to create a distraction. it would've been difficult for them to come up with something like that without their Dad knowing. there's no way chris was in on it from the beginning, right?

[espinosaurusrexex]

Okay so for the avengers circus au, is it gonna be like oc/yn joing the circus and the avengers are part of it? Or oc/yn joing the avengers but previously was part of the circus?

So the plan is it takes place within a circus universe - like they are already a team and know each other. I already have a name and all the avengers have their acts.

Peter - trapeze

Nat - knife throwing and all that fun stuff

Wanda - escapology and hola hoops

Bucky - fire breather and knifes (I already got a pun down okay)

Reader and Steve will be acrobats (I think you know where I’m going with this…)

And so on…

The pairing will be Bucky x F!Reader and I was thinking maybe Bucky gets jealous but they haven’t confessed their feelings for each other

And I could do something with this already but I’m not excited enough for a plot twist and stuff to start writing properly.

[junglekarmapippa]

Robbie on Robbie #8: "If I stop lying, I'll just disappoint you"

From "Come undone" from "Escapology"

RJ sat in his chair in the middle of the night, the only light coming through the roof from the full moon.

He felt he had so many secrets hidden so well he himself wouldn't be able to find them if he needed them.

He hated lying to his students. Even knowing about Dai Shi and fighting him willingly, they were still kept in the dark about so much. And now he had to add what happened when they fought in Dai Shi's temple to it.

He put his pipe in his mouth and took a long drag, letting the smoke go to his lungs and then letting it out. He moved to put the pipe on the table and groaned as his muscles wrapped his bruised ribs tightly.

He put the pipe down and stretched his right arm up, running his hand down the side of his body, counting his ribs as he went. He touched one and immediately felt a sharp pain.

"Fuck," he muttered angrily, to keep his students from waking up.

He had a broken rib. Great, another secret to keep.

Speaking of secrets, he had some light reading on Phantom Beast to do before it was too late. Yet another thing he hadn't made his students privy to yet.

He moved to grab the scrolls and hurt his bruised rib again. "Shit."

Out of nowhere, he saw a hand that moved to help him with the scrolls. He had felt somebody was watching him but he hadn't been able to pinpoint who.

It was Lily.

"Thanks, Lily. Pardon the French."

"Are you alright?" She asked, her worry showing on her face.

"Yes, yes" RJ dismissed. "It's nothing serious, don't worry about it."

In response, Lily kneeled by the Master's chair. She put a hand on his, looking worried and sad.

"What's wrong?" RJ asked, looking at their hands. He removed his from under hers.

"I'm worried about you," she said, looking at his face. "You've been through a lot lately and you haven't looked for support or help. How have you been?"

RJ smirked but his face showed his sadness. "I'm alright, Lily."

"You're drinking a beer and smoking pot in the middle of the night," she said. "You are not alright."

"I have people to talk to," he assured her. "I'm not as alone as it seems."

"Still, you can count on us, for anything. Even if you need to take a day off or--"

"It's alright, Lily," RJ insisted.

"It's just... we feel like you've been lying to us since we rescued you from Dai Shi. We fear you may be possessed."

"I am not possessed."

"But you have been lying to us."

"Yes. Since the first day you came here. And I'll continue to do so until you leave my side." He turned to grab the pipe again but Lily stopped him.

"That's not fair," she said. "We open up to you, we tell you about our fear and our pain, and you are always there for us. But when it comes to the other way around, you don't even reach out your hand. You're our friend, we want to be there for you too. You don't have to lie to us."

RJ took a few seconds to internalize what Lily had said. His face was still sad and she took his hand in hers again.

"You're like a brother to us," she said. "We don't like to see you like this."

"I don't like to see me like this either," RJ agreed before taking a sip of his beer. "It's okay, Lily, really. I'll figure it out."

"You don't have to lie to us," she repeated, standing up.

"Yes, I do. About many things," RJ said, grabbing his pipe again. "I lie to you about such things, Lily, that If I stopped lying I'd just disappoint you."

"There is nothing you can say or do that will make us disappointed in you. We will always be proud to be your students, Wolf Master. And to be your friends, RJ."

RJ looked at her and smiled. "Someday you'll be a great master to a confused teenager."

"Yeah," she breathed, still sad. They stayed silent for a few minutes. "Are you going to tell me what's wrong?"

"No. Go back to bed."

"We love you, RJ. You can't keep us at arm's length forever.

RJ looked down, thinking of all the things he couldn't tell his students. "I will try my damn hardest, though."

Lily simply nodded and walked away in the direction of her room.

RJ felt his eyes well up with tears. If only he could tell them. If only they knew. Would they hate him? Blame him for things the Pai Zhua forced him to do?

They'd be very disappointed.

Of that, he was sure.

[graysonnotwayne]

CHAR BIO; BASICS —

CHARACTER NAME/ALIAS: Richard John Grayson, aka Nightwing. FACECLAIM: Jesus Castro AFFILIATIONS: The Titans, The Justice League AGE (physical age as well, if different): 30 SPECIES (human, metahuman, alien, etc): Human IS YOUR CHARACTER’S IDENTITY SECRET OR PUBLIC?: Secret IF SECRET, OR YOUR CHARACTER IS A CIVILIAN, DO THEY HAVE A CIVILIAN OCCUPATION?: I don't think so, he'd be too busy with his duties in the mousehole. DOES YOUR CHARACTER LIVE IN THE MOUSEHOLE? IF SO, WHAT ARE THEIR DUTIES?: Yes, and I'd like him to be a pilot if that's all right.

DESCRIBE SIX TRAITS (3 positive, 3 negative) YOUR CHARACTER HAS AND HOW THESE AFFECT THEM:

1.) Trustworthy - Dick is consistent, reliable, and he can always be counted on to come running if his help is needed. He has a firm and unwavering sense of morality that keeps him grounded and confident in his abilities. 2.) Intelligent - Even though people look at him and assume he's just a pretty boy, he has genius-level intellect and is very good at deducing patterns and drawing connections. 3.) Adaptability - He prefers to have a plan going in, but he knows nothing goes according to plan. Dick is always prepared with multiple alternate routes and fail safes, should something go wrong, but he was also trained by Batman.

1.) Perfectionist - Dick can be extremely hard on himself and others. If he sees any room for error or makes a mistake, especially when there are lives on the line, he can be harsh with others and where they're lacking. 2.) Overextends himself - Although he has plenty of siblings to share the weight, Dick tends to think he can and should take on everything himself. He has a difficult time saying no when someone needs help, no matter who it is, and can run himself down to the bone trying to do everything for everyone. 3.) Private - While this isn't inherently a negative trait, Dick can take his need for privacy too far. He can and will keep secrets from his team if he thinks it's the right thing to do, or might protect them from getting hurt. He has the tendency to make independent decisions regardless of whether or not he's running a group. He sees it as his responsibility to make the hard calls, even if it means shutting down any possibility for collaboration.

POWERS AND/OR ABILITIES: Acrobatics, computer hacking, disguise, escapology, firearms, genius level intellect, forensic science, criminology, indomitable will, investigation, aikido, most forms of dance, boxing, capoeira, eskrima, hapkido, jeet kune do, judo jujitsu, karate, ninjitsu, sambo, savate, taekwondo, kung fu, multilingualism (English, Romani, Spanish, French, Italian, German, Japanese, Russian, Polish, Czech, Slovak, Sorbian, Ukrainian, Bulgarian, Croatian, Greek, Latin, Swedish, Dutch, Farsi, Swahili, Mandarin, Kikuyu, Cantonese, Arabic, and ASL), peak human strength, peak human agility, peak human speed, peak human reflexes, peak human stamina, peak human endurance, peak human senses, stealth, swordsmanship, tracking, and weaponry.

IC PORTION; DETAILS —

WHAT BROUGHT YOUR CHARACTER TO SOKOVIA?: After Dick temporarily lost his memory, he was estranged from the rest of his family for some time. If it's okay with everyone, I'd like to pick up once his memory's returned and he's himself again. Once he's settled things in Bludhaven, he would go to Sokovia because that's where his family is.

DID THEY SIGN THE ACCORDS? WHY OR WHY NOT?: No. Dick is not the sort of person who would bow to outside pressure. He knows what he is doing is right, so he wouldn't bend even if someone else told him otherwise. He has a strong sense of obligation and duty to continue.

PROVIDE 3-5 HEADCANONS RELATED TO YOUR CHARACTER:

WANTED CHARACTER CONNECTIONS: Dick has a lot of connections, but I'm most excited to plot with the bat-family! Apart from that, I want him to reconnect with his Titans team.

POTENTIAL CHARACTER ARCS: I would really like to flesh out and develop the relationships he has with each of his family members. I really like the dynamic between him and Bruce. I hated the whole Ric storyline and really want to re-establish his connection to the family.

CHARACTER BIO —

Bludhaven belonged to Nightwing. Leaving Robin behind had been one of the most difficult things he'd ever done, but it also meant starting anew. He settled on Bludhaven because it was close and desperately needed his help. The crime rate was worse than Gotham's a good day--Gotham's evil stepsister, that's what he'd told Cass, and he hadn't been exaggerating. Even though Gotham was just over the bridge, having his own identity and his own city granted him independence he'd never experienced before. Now that he was leading his own team and carving out a real place for himself, he no longer felt as if he were in Batman's shadow.

KGBeast's failed assassination changed everything. Once Dick regained consciousness, he had no idea who he was and didn't recognize his own family. Overwhelmed by the information he was given, he withdrew from all of it and vehemently opposed having anything to do with Nightwing or with the Wayne family. He found menial jobs to get by: taxi driver, bartender, waiter, and avoided anyone that had to do with his past. With Dick Grayson. That wasn't him anymore. He didn't want to get involved, especially as the world around him descended to chaos.

[falsegoodnight]

hiiiii <3 would you care to update your raging fanbase on your wips/current priorities/progress/future plans?

omg ruthie i hope you realize that i’m taking this as permission to RAMBLE (also raging fan base sjfjjfg what 😭) also quick note, i’m doing this on my phone so that’s a 99% increased chance of typos. just ignore them <3

i’m currently attempting to do what i call “slowing the fuck down” because i’m literally incapable of taking an actual break so i have to settle for lowering my posting rate (for the sake of my grades most of all, but also the sake of my deteriorating sanity ha). posting twice or thrice (august 2020 smh) a month is fun and all except that it isn’t sjdjkd

i say that and yet i’m still planning on posting twice in march... anyways.

i’ll do this in list format because i love lists.

1. assassin au

okay so this is based off prompt 80 from the blff which is hopefully saved somewhere in my notes because i don’t even remember—

okay it is!! the prompt: John Wick au (kinda?), in which Harry is a legendary assassin but hides this from his sweet boyfriend Louis the whole time. Cue lots of badass Harry action scenes while trying to juggle this with his normal life with his sweet boyfriend and their cute dog Clifford.

and so the thing about this prompt is that it was originally submitted to the fest by lovely chelsea @kittenlouis whose birthday just happens to be coming up in march hehe. it’s a prompt that stuck out to me from the beginning but i never really considered it because i didn’t think i’d ever be able to pull off “badass Harry action scenes” tbh i still don’t know if i can but i’m going to try!

i’m currently at 8.5k for this fic out of an estimated 48k (rip) but that’ll hopefully be 10k by the end of today. the whole story itself is already outlined and planned out and i’m so excited about it, i can’t even articulate how much. there’s lots of drama and action and twists and turns and everything i love!! also this harry, man... this harry is my favorite harry i’ve ever written 😔🤚 i adore him and he deserves the world. they both do :’)

it’s definitely not going to be for everyone since there’s going to be a lot of action and violence (not non-graphic violence) and it’s darker than anything i’ve ever written 😬 like don’t get me wrong, 100% going for action rom-com vibes for some scenes and there’ll be some fluff and soft, sappy moments (stoic hardened assassin that has no experience with love in any form until he meets sweet affectionate nurse, pls 😓) but the last part of the fic: *incoherent gesticulations*

also it’s mpreg!! lol it’s for chelsea, i had to.

anyways back to the violence— i can’t even tell you how many videos and articles i’ve read/watched in the past week on jiu jitsu and kali, tactical driving, knife fighting (sort of have a fascination with this one now) (and an extreme fear sjdjd), medical info about various injuries, escapology, poisons, the john wick verse (it’s not going to be as intense as john wick but i am thinking of setting it in an alternate reality new york where there’s a lot more government instability and free reign from the underground— not, like, a lot... but a bit), and more. i love getting deep into research and ending up with so much new knowledge and information that you don’t know if you’ll ever apply to real life (or really really hope you won’t have to 😳)

yeah so that’s been fun! i’m looking forward to getting deeper in the story!!

2. fake dating au

i’ve already talked so much, this is ridiculous. will try to be quick now!

fake dating au is my oldest wip! it’s circa december 2019 and honestly i’m annoyed with myself for letting it sit for so long. however!! i finally completed the full outline for this fic (after months of procrastination) sometime last week (i think... what is time?) and i feel really good about where the story has ended up so hopefully this will be my priority after assassin au! i don’t expect it to be longer than 35-38k so i may be able to finish and post it by the end of march (it’s currently at 5k!! deleted most of what i had before and then speed-wrote a few scenes the other day) but we’ll see!!

i mainly chose this as the next priority because it’s been too long since i’ve written abo :’( etblp was posted in november! over three months ago what the fuck!! but there’s going to be a lot of good abo stuff in this fic: touch depri, nesting, scenting, and... courting <3 it’s also been much too long since i’ve written any level of enemies to lovers hehe.

3. destruction fic!!

can’t explain how much i love this fic :’) it’s been mostly outlined since back in... september i believe? maybe even august— but i’ve been stuck at the 3k mark since october and that’s really frustrating. i realized it didn’t quite excite me as much as it used to so i decided i needed to change that in the way i know best:

add. drama.

i’m not even joking sjdjdj i came up with a plot point that’s going to add so much angst and i’m so excited about it 😭 i was talking to chelsea about it (is this my tactic to avoid spoiling her birthday fic for her because everyone knows i can’t shut up... perhaps) the other day and her encouragement and excitement also made me more excited.

this fic is a combination of a lot of things i love: superpower, supernatural elements in general, exes to lovers, hurt/comfort (so much hurt 💔 so much comfort ❤️), and other things that i will not reveal!! i sort of like being mysterious on occasion.

anyways those are the next three priorities and after that nothing is set in stone. however, i will say that mandalorian series and the (newly abo) flatshare au are looking pretty good to me rn... also, perhaps the sequel to just a flicker in the dark 👀 (i don’t think i’ve mentioned that on tumblr yet so... surprise!)

i definitely made good on that promise of rambling sjdjdj apologies in advance, ruthie, but thank you for your interest!! 💞 hope you have a wonderful day/night!

(wait omg i can’t even do “keep reading” because i’m on my phone... ripp sorry guys)

edit: back on my laptop so i added it shjsks

[tobescottfree]

STARTER || @forgedweapon

“You must be Cassandra.  It’s nice to meet you.  I’m a friend of Batman’s.  I’ve heard a lot about you.”

[sophiaholmes221b]

Sophia Holmes and the Blind Banker

Chapter Eleven

When I regain consciousness, we're still in the back of the van. They've placed a cloth gag in my mouth, bound my hands and feet tight together, and put a small potato sack over my head so I can't see, but apart from that, I'm grand.

Beside me, I sense Sarah shaking with fear as the van jolts to a stop and the doors are opened. A couple of men step in, taking the bags off our heads and slitting the ropes binding our feet before leading us out, whilst a third lifts John out, bridal style. He must still be unconscious.They lead us down a flight of stone steps into a dark tunnel, lit only by some dim, flickering lights which bounce clumsily off the grimy walls. Sleek hideout.

I don't resist as they lead us down, gathering as much information about this hideout as I can so I can return with dad after I escape - which I will. I have to bide my time: if I struggle now, I'll be putting John and Sarah in danger.

We walk past some stacked-up containers against the tunnel walls and it seems as if we've arrived at the main part of their headquarters. A fire burns in a dustbin in front, and the firelight flickers against the tunnel walls.

Sarah and I are lead over to two chairs beside the fire while John is carefully lowered into a third and bonded tightly. I notice a small cut across his left temple and deduce he was knocked out with a blow to the head with something heavy like a gun, so I must assume they're all armed. Not that it would be advisable to use a gun in here - the tunnels are too narrow: a stray bullet could hit any one of us.

I notice Sarah is crying as we're tied to the chairs and I give her a comforting smile as my kidnapper takes the gag from my mouth. I was right earlier: this is definitely a date she'll remember. Whether or not she'll want to see John after this is another thing.

A Chinese woman with sunglasses steps out from behind one of the containers and my eyes narrow as I recognise her as the 'tourist' following us around London. It wasn't paranoia; she really was watching us.

"Good evening, ladies," she says, and as she speaks I recognise her as The Opera Singer from tonight's performance. The ringmaster of this entire operation: General Shan. "It is unfortunate you got caught up in all this. It was never the plan."

"What plan?" I ask, dumbing myself down and willing that Sarah plays along too. "Please, I don't know what you mean!"

Shan steps forward, closer towards me. "I have seen you many times around Mr Holmes and his companion, yet I don't have a name for you."

She doesn't know who I am? Then I can remove any emotional leverage she might hold over dad.

"I'm Ellie Watson, and this is my mum," I reply, breathlessly.

"I'm only in town for a few weeks," Sarah says, accepting the role and playing it surprisingly well. "I'm sorry - I just wanted to see my daughter. Please let her go!"

I glance over to her and we exchange looks of mock terror. Well, mine is, anyway - I know what I'm doing.

"I see no reason not to believe you," Shan says slowly after watching us for a moment. "But still, Mr Holmes seems to value his companion, so family will also count into the bargain." I curse silently under my breath; this is not working out how I'd planned. "You will be released, unharmed, if Sherlock Holmes gives me then treasure, if not, then I'm sure we can make a deal over your bodies."

I shiver slightly as the fire blows away, but I keep my eyes on her as she turns away from us. The men who brought us here step forward from the shadows once more and fasten the gags back into our mouths as we struggle. In front, I watch as John regains consciousness and raises his hand to the cut on his head.

"'A book is like a magic garden carried in your pocket,'" General Shan says, quoting an old Chinese proverb which I've heard countless times. John looks around the tunnel and sees us, wincing with the pain in his head. I give him a weak smile. Shan walks closer to him. "Chinese proverb, Mr. Holmes."

John and I both look to her with startled panic. Shit.

"I ... I'm not Sherlock Holmes," John protests, and Shan smiles at him, humourlessly."Forgive me if I do not take your word for it." She reaches towards him and rummages through his inside pocket.

"Ow," John mutters in obvious pain. "Ow."

She slides out his wallet and takes something from it - something I can't see from this angle. Sarah looks at me, terrified. "Debit card, name of S. Holmes." The card dad lent him to get the shopping with. How did they know he had that in his possession? I never saw them check his pockets.

"Yes; that's not actually mine," John argues. "He lent that to me."

Shan ignores him, continuing to flick through his wallet. I know what she's going to find now. "A cheque for five thousand pounds made out in the name of Mr Sherlock Holmes."

"Yeah, he gave me that to look after." Not strictly true, but the General continues to go through his wallet and pulls out a small slip of paper.

"Tickets from the theatre, collected by you, name of Holmes," Shan persists.

"Yes, okay ..." John fades off as he bites back a silent curse. He really needs to be more careful about whose identity he keeps in his pockets if he wants to stay safe. "I realise what this looks like, but I'm not him."

"We heard it from your own mouth."

It's my turn to curse now. Surely he couldn't have been so stupid?

"What?" John replies obviously confused himself.

"'I am Sherlock Holmes and I always work alone.'" Shan quotes emotionlessly as John stares into space in front of him in utter disbelief. I share the same feeling.

"Did I really say that?" he chuckles weakly, and then lowers his head as a spark of pain shoots through him. "I s'ppose there's no use me trying to persuade you I was doing an impression."

Sarah gasps from beside me as Shan pulls out a small pistol and points it at his head. A shot at that range would be less of a risk, but she could hit someone else if John was to move suddenly. She won't take that chance.

"I am Shan," Shan introduces herself, and John stares up at her, obviously surprised that a middle-aged Chinese woman could be the leader of an international smuggling cult.

"You're ... you're Shan."

"Three times we tried to kill you and your companion, Mr Holmes," Shan continues, ignoring him. "What does it tell you when an assassin cannot shoot straight?"

I think of a cocky reply I could call out, but think better of it, focusing my attention instead on shifting my arms into a position where I can slide out of the bonds. I've gathered all the information I need now to have her put down in prison for the rest of her life.

In front, Shan brings another hand to the gun and cocks it. John cringes back at the sound, turning away. I hear him mutter a soft plea, but I don't hear the words uttered as he struggles against his bonds also. He looks back at her gun, his face full of terror as she pulls the trigger further back. She's bluffing. She has to be.

The gun clicks, and John grunts in shock as the bullet never fires.

The fire lights up Shan's face as she turns slightly, smiling smugly. "It tells you that they're not really trying."

John breathes heavily, trying to calm himself down. Really starting to wish I'd put that knife back into my pocket.

We exchange quick looks again as Shan returns with a clip, which she slides into the pistol and cocks it again, pointing it at John's head. He cringes away once more.

"Not blank bullets now," she teases, and I have to refrain from reminding her that she didn't have any bullets at all in the gun before.

"Okay," John breathes out, trying, and failing to calm his nerves.

"If we wanted to kill you, Mr Holmes, we would have done it by now. We just wanted to make you inquisitive." And we fell into that trap. Shan looks at him, stern and serious. "Do you have it?"

"Do I have what?" John questions, obviously playing stupid as we've talked about this enough times.

"The treasure," Shan replies, impatience growing in her voice.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he lies again as I continue to twist.

"I would prefer to make certain," Shan says as she turns away and I see her gesture to one of the men who stand to the side.

In one swift movement, he pulls the cover off of the large object to reveal the crossbow from the theatre, already loaded and ready to fire. We're about to take part in an escapology act, for information John doesn't have. Not the way I had anticipated dying, but there could still be a way out.

"Everything in the West has its price; and the price for her life ..." she gestures towards Sarah, and John turns to stare at her. "...Information."

I watch as the two men walk over to where we sit and pick up Sarah's chair, ignoring her cries of protest through her gag as they continue to carry her towards the crossbow.

"Sorry," John mutters despairingly from under his breath, his voice only just travelling close enough for me to hear it. "I'm sorry."

They set her chair down on the other side of the crossbow so that Sarah is facing, and directly opposite, the sharpened arrow tip. Tears trickle down her cheeks as she struggles in vain at her bonds. I bite back a triumphant grin as I find the knot in my bonds and begin to untie it.

"Where's the hairpin?" Shan demands, Sarah still safe for the moment whilst the sand is contained in the bag.

John tugs at his bonds, despite the pistol still pointed at him. "What?"

I may have neglected to tell him about the pin before we were taken, but it matters very little now.

"The Empress pin valued at nine million sterling," Shan says, sounding incredibly impatient and demanding. "We already had a buyer in the West; and then one of our people was greedy. He took it, brought it back to London and you, Mr Holmes, have been searching."

"Please," John begs. "Please, listen to me. I'm not ... I'm not Sherlock Holmes. You have to believe me. I haven't found whatever it is you're looking for."

"I need a volunteer from the audience!" Shan announces, treating this as just another performance.

"No, please," John repeats, desperately. "Please."

"Ah, thank you, lady," she continues, walking towards Sarah. "Yes, you'll do very nicely."

Sarah wails as she tugs at the ropes in desperation. My ropes loosen, but I hold them together. I can't move just yet.

Shan smiles, taking out a small knife from her pocket and reaching up to the sandbag, repeating the processes as she did before. The sand begins to trickle out, lifting the bag steadily higher as the weight lowers. Sarah continues to cry out as John just stares in absolute horror at the bag, unable to do anything to save his date. I sit still in my seat, watching with calculated thoughts.

Shan smiles again, looking around at the absent audience. "Ladies and gentlemen. From the distant moonlit shores of NW1, we present for your pleasure Sherlock Holmes' pretty companion in a death-defying act."

"Please!" John cries, but Shan continues to ignore him, choosing instead to walk over to Sarah and place an origami flower on her lap. The sign of a death committed by the Black Lotus.

"You've seen the act before," she states. "How dull for you. You know how it ends."

"I'm not Sherlock Holmes!" John calls, frantically.

"I don't believe you," Shan snaps back. A shadow flickers in the firelight which is cast upon the wall, and I smile slightly as I recognise the outline.

"You should, you know," the shadow says, and Shan twirls around. "Sherlock Holmes is nothing at all like him." I drop the ropes from my hands but freeze as Shan raises her pistol and aims it towards him. I hear dad's footsteps as he immediately shifts to the side of the tunnel, vanishing into the shadows. One of Shan's men starts to run forward to meet him. "How would you describe me, John? Resourceful? Dynamic? Enigmatic?"

"Late?" John mutters, tetchily.

"That's a semi-automatic," dad continues, ignoring John and stating Shan's problem, giving me enough of a distraction to slip into the shadows. "If you fire it, the bullet will travel at over a thousand metres per second."

Shan doesn't lower her aim, still ignorant of her problem.

"Well?"

"Well ..." Dad pauses and I hear a metal bar come into contact with the man's stomach and he falls to the ground, groaning in pain. "...The radius curvature of these walls is nearly four metres, if you miss, the bullet will ricochet. Could hit anyone. Might even bounce off the tunnel and hit you."

He darts suddenly out of the darkness and kicks over the nearest firepit, extinguishing even more of the light. John flinches at the sound and I turn thoughtfully around to the bin closest to me, but I guess it wouldn't achieve much except to draw attention to myself.

Dad scuttles through the shadows and appears just behind Sarah, beginning to untie her bonds after noticing that I've already gotten free. I recognise the figure of Lee, Soo Lin's brother, as he runs up behind him, looping a long, red scarf around his throat a couple of times.

The sand is still trickling out, the weight getting ever higher during the fight. I look between dad and Sarah for a half a second, trying to decide who to help, then I feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. I whirl around, looking into the darkness behind me.

A leg kicks out, and I stumble backwards as it comes into contact with my stomach. I really need to be more observant. I straighten up, panting heavily as I try to recover my loss of oxygen, and quickly defend myself from his next attack by grabbing his fist and twisting.

We continue to fight, both of us matching each other's abilities so that there is no clear leader. I risk a glance at what the others are doing as I duck beneath a kick aimed, again, at my chest, and see dad and Lee still struggling as John stumbles forward - a difficult feet as he is still tied to the chair - towards Sarah, obviously realising that neither of us will be able to save her.

I send out a kick of my own, a low one in comparison, but he jumps it easily, lashing out with his fists once more. John's chair clatters to the floor as he loses balance, but he continues to squirm forward, getting ever closer to the crossbowow. I spin back around in time to defend myself from what would have been a rather painful hit and finish the fight with an uppercut, not unlike the one dad ended our fight with a few days ago. My attacker falls to the floor, unconscious for now.

John finally reaches the crossbow and I watch with relief as he kicks the crossbow aside. More by luck than judgement, the arrow releases, burying itself in Lee's chest and he falls with little more than a grunt of surprise. But where's Shan?

I look around the tunnel as dad stands up, gasping for breath as the red scarf is still wrapped around his neck, and hear the distant quick-paced footsteps of General Shan, fleeing before she can be convicted.

Dad and I both consider heading after her, but dad turns to a whimpering Sarah instead, choosing to untie her bonds and give her emotional support. After a moment of deliberation, I leave her too. She's lost the Jade pin and one of her best Tong agents; if she was working for someone, then she'll be dealt with in their hands, their way.

Dad soothes Sarah gently, dropping to his knees and untying her gag as he mutters soft words of encouragement.

"Don't worry," John mutters softly from the floor as I run over to him. "Next date won't be like this."

I smile at his sense of humour and begin to untie his knots as Sarah continues to sob.

Dad throws me his phone. "Get onto Dimmock," he requests as he continues to soothe Sarah. "Tell him that a civilian was taken, but she's safe."

I nod and dial the number.

***

A little while later, the police arrive outside, their blue and red lights cutting through the darkness. We walk out to meet them and a paramedic runs over to Sarah, wrapping a shock blanket around her as she shivers into it. I shiver too. The adrenaline had been keeping me warm, but now it's over. Nearly.

John wraps his arm around Sarah and walks her away, but dad and I walk up to Dimmock's car before we leave.

"We'll just slip off," dad announces. "No need to mention us in your report."

"Mr Holmes ..."

"I have high hopes for you, Inspector," dad admits. "A glittering career."

"I go where you point me," Dimmock replies, in total contrast to when we first met.

"Exactly," dad says beginning to walk away.

We follow the road along until we reach the nearest cafe and we file in together. Now that I sit down in the booth with all the action over, my stomach rumbles against the newly formed bruise.

"John thinks you're anorexic, you know," dad says suddenly as we get our drinks.

I look up from my hot chocolate with surprise. "Really?" I answer, frowning.

"Yes, something about you not eating for a while?"

I groan as we approach this subject. "I'm absolutely fine!"

Dad chuckles. "That's what I said." He reaches forward, taking my hands as I put my cup down. "I know you enjoy this type of life, but if it all gets too much, I'm here for you."

I look up and smile weakly. "Thanks, but I'm fine, really."

He nods and slips back into his usual state as our food arrives.

I wonder what's caused the sudden shift in attitude. I know it's been hard for both of us after mother's death, and excluding ourselves from ourselves has been our way of coping. So why now?

A waitress comes over with our meals and smiles as she lays the plates down in front of us. Her facade covers up for the fact that she's just caught her boyfriend cheating, in her own house.The news flicks on from the TV behind the counter and I look up, curious to see whether our little adventure has hit the media yet, but when the journalist starts talking about rehoming a load of puppies, we pack away. Our story is unlikely to be broadcasted for government protection or whatever, which leaves us anonymous as usual.

***

I don't wake up until around ten the next morning. The previous sleepless nights finally caught up with me, leaving me to refresh myself for a while.

When I do wake, I run a brush through my hair before slipping some clothes on and grabbing an apple from the fruit bowl as I pass through the kitchen.

"Morning," dad says softly as I sit down at the table, and he gets up to put the kettle on. "Hot chocolate?"

"Please," I agree, nodding, and peering at a newspaper. Some article about a series of disappearances catches my eye, but I draw them away again as dad hands me my mug.

"So, 'Nine mill' ..." John says, looking up from the kitchen table as he receives his tea.

"Million," dad corrects, as he pours his own up.

"Million, yes; 'Nine million for jade pin. Dragon den, black Tramway.'"

"An instruction to all their London operatives," dad explains, and John nods in mild understanding. "A message; what they were trying to reclaim."

"What, a jade pin?"

"Worth nine million pounds," dad agrees. "Bring it to the Tramway, their London hideout."

"Hang on: a 'hairpin' worth nine million pounds?" John frowns.

"Apparently."

"Why so much?

"Depends who owned it," dad points out.

"Who's was it?" John questions and I roll my eyes.

"Shan said in the tunnel," I remind him. "It's the 'Empress pin'. Extremely valuable on its own, but in a collection - priceless."

"So who's got it now?" John inquires. "I mean, both of the men the group suspected are dead."

"Van Coon," dad begins, putting his cup down on the side. "I need to have a chat with his PA." He walks towards the door, putting his coat on, and I stand up, joining him at the stairs. "Coming?"

"Yeah, hang on!" John mutters, downing the rest of his tea before grabbing his coat and following us out.

***

"Two operatives based in London," dad explains, reciting the background information of the smugglers as we step out of the taxi and walk towards Shad. "They travel over to Dalian to smuggle those vases. One of them helps himself to something: a little hairpin."

"Worth nine million pounds," John adds.

"Belonging to the Empress of China," I finish.

"Eddie Van Coon was the thief," dad says again. "He stole the treasure when he was in China."

"How d'you know it was Van Coon, not Lukis?" John challenges. "Even the killer didn't know that."

"Because of the soap," I tell him as we navigate through the revolving doors, and I look smugly at John as he gives me a blank look.

"How did you possibly get that from a bottle of soap?" John demands in badly suppressed amazement as dad goes off to speak to Reception.

"Simple," I begin, and John rolls his eyes.

"Not for us all," he mutters, but I continue, ignoring him.

"Van Coon and his PA both have the same brand of soap in their possession: a 'ladies' brand, if you like. Known for its soft texture and sweet scent. Van Coon was certainly not the type of man to buy himself scented soap, and the bottle was nearly empty, which means someone had been using it besides him. He'd had a lady over."

"Sebastian is in his office," dad says, coming back over. "I'll let you two collect the cheque."

"But how did you get that he had the pin from that?!" John persists as dad disappears.

"I wasn't sure until recently," I admit, leading John through to Sebastian's office. "I noticed the pin in his PA's hair when we were looking through Van Coon's receipts a couple of days ago. Looked expensive, but I didn't think much more about it at the time. The soap told us that Van Coon was in a relationship with his PA, but his frequent trips abroad meant that he had to apologise. Gifts were his favourite way. To make up for his recent absence, Van Coon stole a hairpin for his girlfriend, with no idea of what its value or history was."

John's jaw drops open. Amazing."

"Thank you."

"Ah, Miss Holmes, Doctor Watson," Sebastian calls as we enter his office. "How's our little problem going?"

"All solved," I reply, calmly. "Your burglar scaled the side of the building, hopped onto the balcony, and came through the window to Shad's office to leave a message for one of your staff. You won't be troubled by him again, though. He's dead."

He raises his eyes in some scepticism, but pulls the draw on his desk open, withdrawing a chequebook and pen. "I think we agreed on twenty grand?" Sebastian recalls as he signs it. "Who am I making this payable to?"

"Mr Sherlock Holmes," I reply, looking out the window thoughtfully as he addresses it.

"He really climbed up onto the balcony?" Wilkes questions as he slips the piece of paper into an envelope.

"Nail a plank across the window and all your problems are over," John replies, scornfully.

Looking slightly irritated, Sebastian holds the envelope out to John. "Thanks," he says, handing it immediately over to me for safekeeping, now self-conscious about possessing anything of dad's.

As we turn to leave, I hear a piercing shriek of happiness coming from down the hall and smile to myself as I recognise it as the PA.

She's suddenly become a very rich lady.

[sassycassie-s-writing]

He’s Alive

By: SassyShoulderAngel319

Fandom/Character(s): DC, BatFam - Jason Todd/Red Hood feat. Dick Grayson/Nightwing

Rating: PG-11/T- (minor violence)

Original Idea: Arkham Knight audio files

Notes: (Masterlist)(By Character)(About Me) I don’t really know or care about the correctness of the difference between referring to Batman as Batman or The Batman, but sometimes Star Beam is just annoying to be annoying. @welovegroot @batboys-and-other-messes

^^^^^

I woke up tied to a chair.

I wish I could say it was an uncommon experience.

Or even the first time that happened.

But I couldn’t.

Because it wasn’t.

I grunted in displeasure and vague boredom as my eyes adjusted to the light. And by light I mean the dim incandescent lightbulb hanging bare from a cord on the ceiling. I blinked a few times until my eyes no longer burned from the light.

“Good morning, Star Beam,” an eerie voice said from the shadows. “Do I call you Miss Beam? Miss Star? Do you have a preference?”

“Fight me,” I snarled, struggling against the chains holding me to the chair.

“Oh, you’ll find that’s quite impossible. Those chains are fitted with a dampener chip that suppresses your metahuman powers, Miss Beam,” the same eerie voice informed me condescendingly. The face that belonged to the voice loomed from the shadows.

Or rather, the mask.

Scarecrow.

Great. This guy again. I’d already wiped the floor with that ugly burlap mask used to scare people on three separate occasions in the last year alone and I was really getting tired of him.

He was like that one guy in the friendzone who kept trying to escape it but he wasn’t actually in the friendzone, he was just in the Oh my WORD, go away dude zone. Almost every girl knows a guy like that eventually. And probably some guys know too—but I don’t really know since I’ve never asked.

“What do you want, Crane?” I demanded. “What was so important that you decided to invest in expensive power-dampeners to get fifteen minutes with me?”

Scarecrow scoffed. “You think that’s how long this is going to last?”

“Yup,” I said, popping the p just to be annoying.

“Nope,” Scarecrow retorted, also popping the p. “Miss Beam, you’re going to be here for ages, until such a time as I deem it right to release you.”

Like that’s going to happen, I thought while rolling my eyes.

Scarecrow got really up-close-and-personal in my face. “Now, tell me, Miss Star Beam, who is the Batman?”

“Okay, I’m gonna correct you there. He is not the Batman. He’s just Batman, got it?” I snapped. “Honestly, it drives me crazy that everyone’s always like, ‘the Batman.’ It makes him sound like he’s half-bat half-human. Which is ridiculous and false.” I struggled against the chains again, trying to remember the escapology Bruce had showed me. I hadn’t paid very good attention back then because I’d thought I’d always have my powers so I could use them to pick locks and such.

I’d need to run a refresher course when I got back to the cave.

IF you get back to the cave, idiot, a snide voice of self-doubt hissed in the back of my mind.

Shut up, I retorted.

Well whose fault was it that you ended up captured in the first place?

Zip it.

“You didn’t answer my question, Star Beam. Who. Is. Batman?” Scarecrow pressed.

I arched my back and squirmed, trying to stretch out. I was stiff from being lashed to the chair. “Why do you assume I even know? You really think Batman would have a security risk like that running around?” I was rambling. Stalling for time. If I didn’t report back to Alfred every half-hour, he’d send Batman after the chip in my suit—which I was still wearing. Thank the heavens this wasn’t one of the times I woke up tied to a chair in my underwear and sports bra. “Like, seriously. One of the best detective minds in the world who’s just gonna be like, ‘Oh yeah, this little girl with weird powers can totally know who I am under this mask. I’m sure that won’t be a problem,’” I growled in my best Batman voice.

Okay, so my Batman impression wasn’t stellar, but it wasn’t terrible either.

Scarecrow stared at me. I wondered vaguely what his expression looked like underneath the mask. Was he irritated? Angry? I couldn’t tell.

He sighed finally. “Shame. I was so hoping my preferred method wasn’t going to be necessary. That you’d give up the information willingly. Though, perhaps I shouldn’t be surprised. The Batman somehow manages to instill a strange sense of loyalty in his followers.”

“You say that like he’s an internet personality,” I remarked.

Scarecrow revealed one of the syringes on his hand—the kind that would inject me with a concentrated dose of his fear toxin that would probably nearly kill me. “Enough of your silly little games, Star Beam,” he snapped. “You’re going to tell me who Batman is, and you’re going to do it now.” He lifted the syringe and held it toward me.

The door was kicked open. “Get the H*&% away from her!” a voice ordered.

The newcomer was tall. Not quite as tall as Bruce, but only shorter by a couple inches. He was also absolutely ripped—to the point where I thought it looked uncomfortable.

But I couldn’t describe his face because I couldn’t see it. He wore a scarlet helmet over his entire head. Frustrating, not to know who was under there. I supposed that was how a lot of people felt about Batman. Hmm.

Scarecrow snickered and backed away. “As you wish, Red Hood.”

“Let me talk to her. Alone. See if I can get it out of her in a different way,” Red Hood said.

Scarecrow moved to leave. “Alright. But when she proves uncooperative, we’ll do this my way.” He slid out and slammed the metal door behind him.

Red Hood sat opposite me on another metal chair, lounging on it casually. He tsked. “Oh Star Beam. You’ve really gotten yourself in a pickle this time, haven’t you?”

I wriggled and leaned my head back away from him. “Uh… I guess?” I said.

He sighed and shook his head, looking down. “No, no. You’re doing it wrong. You’re supposed to keep me talking. Or talk yourself. That’s what Bruce taught you to do right? Bide your time till he shows up to get you.”

I blinked. “B-Bruce?” I stammered.

Red Hood snickered. “Yeah. Scarecrow doesn’t know that I know. Let’s just keep it our little secret, okay?” he asked.

I cleared my throat. “Who are you?” I asked.

I heard an exhale that could have counted as a snort of amusement. “You don’t even recognize my voice anymore. I suppose that’s okay. It’s been a long time since the last time you heard it. I was just a teenager back then.”

Red Hood pressed the side of his helmet. The mask at the front opened up.

I gasped and lurched backward, the legs of my chair screeching on the concrete floor. “J-Jason?”

A leather-gloved hand reached up and stroked my face, pausing with fingertips at the seam where my mask met skin. I really hoped he wasn’t going to remove it. That wouldn’t be good. “Hey Star Beam,” he greeted, voice soft and gentle but with an underlying hostility and aggression I didn’t trust at all.

“You’re… you’re supposed to be dead,” I breathed, unable to think of anything else to say.

Jason shrugged. “Didn’t take,” he said. “Listen, don’t count on Batman to come save you. I thought he’d save me too but that didn’t turn out so well. Figure out how to get out on your own.”

“I’m trying. There’s a power-dampener on the chains. I can’t pick the lock with my telekinesis.”

“Well try harder. I don’t want Scarecrow to have you in here.”

“Oh, so just because it’s me you want to help.”

“Isn’t that enough?”

“For my survival, yes. But what if it was Dick? Or some random civilian? Would you be encouraging them to escape?”

“Unknown, Star Beam. Because they’re not here and you are.” He reached forward and pulled the bobby pin out of my hair and slid it down my arm and into my hand where it was tied behind my back. “I know you don’t want to hear this, but I still love you.”

“Don’t want to hear that my boyfriend from when I was fifteen still loves me even though he’s allied himself with one of my enemies. Hmm,” I said.

“Pick the lock, escape the dampener, and then you high-tail it out of here, you hear? My alliance with Scarecrow is necessary. You don’t know what happened to me when I was brought back to life. I’d been hollowed out. Still am. The only thing that’s left of who I was is my love for you. Somehow that survived.” He kissed my forehead. “Now go.” He straightened up, shut his helmet, and left the room. “Give her a few minutes to stew over my threat in solitude, she’ll come around,” Jason said to Scarecrow. The metal door slammed with a heavy thunk!

I fiddled with the bobby pin, breaking it to use as a lock-pick. Lucky for me picking locks was about feeling and not seeing because I couldn’t see what I was doing. Just had to feel for the tumblers.

The locks released. I sighed in relief and quietly slid out of the chains, trying to make them clink as little as possible.

I rolled my wrists, stretching them out and calling on my powers. Silver-white light danced around my fingers. I grinned. “I’m back,” I whispered.

I stole over to the window. The bars were too narrow for me to slip through and the glass appeared to be ballistic glass—bulletproof.

I smirked. “Good thing my powers have nothing to do with bullets,” I mused.

I bent my knees and made a telekinetic shield in front of me.

With a single shove of my hands in which I touched nothing, I tore the bars and glass out of the window. There was a horrible wrenching and crashing noise as the bars and glass broke free. The rubble ricocheted off my shield.

The door burst open behind me. The shield swung around to protect my back. “Get her!” Scarecrow shouted. “This is why telekinetics are cheaters, Hood!”

I laughed and launched myself out the window. I didn’t even care where I was or how high up. I was getting out. “Woooooo-Hoooooo!” I called as I fell through the air. A cushion of silver-white telekinetic energy pillowed my landing, but I tuck-and-rolled anyway for the sake of my knees and the fact that I was really stiff from sitting in that chair for too long.

Bullets followed after me as I took cover with an, “Eeep!” and threw up another shield.

“HOLD YOUR FIRE!” I heard Jason shout. The bullets ceased. “Anyone hurts her and they’re gonna deal with me!”

I did a quick stretch and took off running. “GO AFTER HER!” Scarecrow shrieked.

“But don’t you dare shoot her!” Red Hood added.

I leapt over a busy street of cars with the help of my powers and kept running. I had to get out of the city. Into the woods… if I could make it up into the branches of the canopy they’d have a harder time tracking me… get back to the Batcave.

I careened around a corner—

Only to be grabbed, a hand wrapping around my mouth to muffle my shriek and throwing me against a wall.

A familiar figure towered over me, holding me still and keeping my mouth shut. There was a smile on his face and a blue domino mask over his eyes—which were blue underneath. His hair was black. He was about five-ten and slender—fluid lines and lean muscle. Not bulky and jacked like Jason.

I pushed his hand off my mouth. “Dick?!” I scream-whispered.

“Hey Star Beam. Who’re you running from?” he asked. “I haven’t seen you that scared since the first time you sparred with B on Beast Mode.”

I sucked in a deep breath, trying to stop panting. “I’m running… from… Jason,” I got out through my heavy breathing. “Because… y’know… no one bothered to tell me that he’s still alive.” Dick took a step back, letting me go completely.

“Well, technically, he’s not ‘still’ alive. He did actually die. But then he got brought back. Long story. Quick version: reality got a little altered which brought him back to life and then he took a dip in the Lazarus Pit to heal,” Dick explained. I blinked. This was a lot to process. I wasn’t feeling too hot anyway, but this was a lot. I leaned against the wall and put my hand on the bricks behind me, looking for solidarity.

I took another deep breath. “Okay…” I breathed. “And no one thought to tell me this… why?!” It took all my self-control not to lose my cool. Not to scream at him and shout. But we were still hiding from Scarecrow and Jason’s goons.

“I, uh, I’ll have to let B explain that one. C��mon. Let’s get out of here. You good to keep moving?”

“Yeah I’m good.”

“Okay great. Let’s move.”

I followed him up the fire escape of the building he’d pinned me to. We leapt over rooftops and across alleys with agility—and telekinesis in my case—before coming to a stop in Crime Alley. Below us, in an alley, was the Batmobile. Dick took the fire escape down. I just jumped and used my powers to cushion my fall.

“Now what?” I asked, upon finding the Batmobile was empty.

“We wait for approximately fifteen seconds,” Dick said.

One. Two. Three…

Jason was alive. What was I supposed to be thinking?

Four. Five. Six…

More than just alive—working with Scarecrow as the Red Hood.

Seven. Eight. Nine…

He’d had guns strapped to his thighs. Guns. Jason hadn’t been taught how to fight with guns. What was going on?

Ten. Eleven. Twelve…

I was too overwhelmed for any of this. I needed to go home and get some sleep.

Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen…

“Okay. It’s been fifteen seconds and he’s still not here,” I said to Dick. “Now what?”

Sixteen. Seventeen. Eight—

“Nightwing. Star Beam. What are you doing here?” a deep voice said. I whirled around to see Batman looming in the darkness of the alley.

Dick leaned against the Batmobile, spinning one eskrima stick around his hand casually. “Hey B. Guess who just found out your son is alive?”

Batman looked at me. “Are you going to lash out or are you going to let me explain?” he asked.

“Both?” I suggested.

“Alright. Let’s get somewhere safe first. Pile in, you two.”

[badasscommanderleksa]

Book Review: The Art of Escaping

Summary:

Seventeen-year-old Mattie has a hidden obsession: escapology. Emphasis on hidden. If anyone from school finds out, she’ll be abandoned to her haters. Facing a long and lonely summer, Mattie finally seeks out Miyu, the reclusive daughter of a world-renowned escape artist. Following in Houdini’s footsteps, Miyu helps Mattie secretly transform herself into an escapologist and performance artist. When Will, a popular athlete from school, discovers Mattie’s act at an underground venue, Mattie fears her secret persona will be exposed. Instead of outing her, though, Will tells Mattie a secret not even his girlfriend knows. Through a blossoming friendship, the two must find a way to express their authentic selves. Told through the perspectives of the witty main characters, this funny and fresh debut explores the power of stage personas and secret spaces, and speaks to the uncanny ways in which friendships transform us.

Review (containing spoilers):

Short tags: Straight Female MC, Gay Male MC, two poc side characters, Coming Out, minor m/m pairing at the end

Rating: 4.5/5

[Review on Goodreads]

The description of this book first intrigued me, but when I started it, I wasn't sure if I'd really relate to and like either Mattie or Will.

But I did. I ended up enjoying this book far more than I ever anticipated. 

When I retell the story of this book out loud it sounds so weird. And the reason for that is mainly that the whole story builds on Mattie and Will connecting and then becoming friends because each of them has this huge secret that they’ve never told anyone else before:

Will is gay.

And Mattie... has an unusual hobby.

The only thing that bothered me while reading the book was the fact that it felt like those two things were put on the same level.

I mostly understood why Mattie didn’t want to show this part of herself and this thing she really cares about to the people close to her. She spends a lot of time reflecting on her fears and reasons, so it doesn’t feel like it’s just a plot point to connect those two characters. And of course it’s fully understandable to think that her parents would never allow her to continue to NEARLY DIE every day.

So the hypothetical 18-year-old escapologist-me would have probably kept that secret the same way real-me kept her sexuality to herself, too.

It still just shouldn’t sound like it’s as huge of a burden to live this double life as it was for Will to be in the closet.

BUT, and this is a big BUT:

I was really impressed that exactly this concern was later addressed in the book.

There is a moment where Will talks about how his life will look from the point he first comes out:

“I’m facing an endless line of people assuming I’m something I’m not.”

He explains to her that he will have to continue to come out again and again in every new area of his life and that he can never know if the next person he has to come out will be one that won’t be okay with him.

And Mattie, as a person who might have been afraid to be judged and called weird for what she loves but ultimately could not have known what it really means to come out, comes to understand what had bothered me the whole time before:

"I finally saw the fundamental difference between our secrets— no matter how strange people thought my hobby was, it would never threaten to knock me down the ladder of privilege."

That whole talk was done really, really well.

Also, I’ve seen on Goodreads that the author took note of critiques like this from early reviewers and worked on the story accordingly before the final publication, which is a really great thing to do. So big kudos to that.

Overall:

I found myself very invested in Mattie’s training and performances. I found myself loving the whole subject of stage personas and what they can mean to different people.

I also loved Will’s and Mattie’s friendship and thought it was really well done, no matter how weird the whole thing sounded in the beginning.

Usually I don't like when the same situation is told more than once in a book. But in this case I even liked reading their first meeting from both the MC's perspectives.

And besides Will and Mattie there are a few more very cool side characters and interesting settings.

The plot is mainly focuses on Mattie’s story, which gives the book an adventurous vibe with the training and her growing through her art and kind of connecting to her hero, instead of it being a common high school story.

Still, in the end it is Will’s story that affects both of their ‘ordinary’ lives more. While Will made mistakes and I don’t want to excuse what he did, I’m really happy everything turned out fairly well and with a positive prospects for the future for all of them.

And my boy Will got to kiss a boy, so yeeeeey!

//ARC provided by the publisher via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.//

[nuttersincorporated]

Farah’s Guide to Keeping Todd and Dirk Alive, Healthy and Functioning with Arguable Efficiency

A short story set after season 2 of Dirk Gently’s Holistic Detective Agency. Also on AO3

Summary: An ongoing list that Farah starts on how to stop Dirk and Todd getting themselves killed.

Word Count: 1028

Author Note: This story doesn’t go into detail but the three of them are dating each other and are in a happy polygamous relationship together. No one is straight. Farah is pansexual, Todd is bisexual and Dirk is demiromantic.

1.

Talk to Dirk about Blackwing. Both Todd and I need to learn everything we can about it so that we can be better prepared if they strike again. Since this will be a difficult conversation, I’ll bring chocolate and Dirk’s squeaky stress toy to help try and keep him calm.

2.

From now on, I’m going to assume that any stress toy I hand to Dirk is probably Mona. Mona also doesn’t like talking about Blackwing so, holistic actor or not, she’s not great at helping Dirk stay calm when discussing it.

3.

Now that we are more informed about Blackwing, we need to form plans, strategies and protocols. We should have weekly meetings and agree upon safe houses/safe places to meet up if it becomes necessary to go off the grid.

4.

Get Dirk and Todd to download an app on their phones so that they can be tracked if they get lost and a panic button so that I can come save them if they are in danger.

5.

Don’t talk about Blackwing again with Dirk unless absolutely necessary or if he brings it up himself.

6.

Set up a weekly food shopping order to be delivered to Dirk’s apartment. He forgets to eat or buy food for himself unless reminded. This arrangement will just be easier in the long run. Take the cost out of his wages.

7.

Enrol Todd and Dirk in self-defence classes and a First Aid course.

8.

No more cases involving pandas.

9.

Todd needs regular contact with Amanda to maintain a positive mental wellbeing. Make sure they talk at least once a week and meet as often as possible.

10.

Convince Todd and Dirk to move in with me. It makes financial sense, I can keep a closer eye on them and make sure they do things like actually get some sleep and eat enough food. We’ve been dating long enough that this isn’t rushing things, right?

11.

Insist that Todd and Dirk actually attend their self-defence classes, no more excuses. I don’t care if they are on a case or if Dirk sees a cute dog that ‘the universe wants him to pet,’ the next time they miss one of their lessons I’m cutting off their company credit cards.

12.

DO NOT INVITE THE ROWDY THREE AROUND TO OUR HOME EVER AGAIN!

13.

Teach Todd and Dirk some relaxation and meditation techniques.

14.

Make Dirk take swimming lessons.

15.

If Dirk has a panic attack and the Rowdy Three aren’t around to absorb his negative emotions, get Todd. If he isn’t there, get him on the phone. Todd is much better at dealing with this than me after years of practice looking after Amanda during an attack.

16.

Enrol Dirk and Todd in an escapology class.

17.

Hang up several piñatas around the office and possibly get a small ball pool before the Rowdy Three’s next visit.

18.

Next year, give Dirk plenty of warnings and reminders before Valentine's Day comes around. He got very upset when he forgot and it took us ages to convince him that he isn’t a bad boyfriend.

19.

Cases involving the Queen of England are to be encouraged. Possibly we should think about seeking cases from other European royalty and dignitaries.

20.

Sow a tracking device into Dirk’s jacket. He remembers it more often than his phone.

21.

Always have spare tablets for Todd’s pararibulitis. While he normally remembers to have a bottle of them with him, I’m not risking another attack like the one he had in Atlantis. From now on, I’m not taking any chances. I’ll keep tablets in the office, the car, home and in my bag.

On the plus side, the Atlantis case at least proved that Dirk’s swimming lessons were a success.

22.

If Dirk is starting to get too worked up, follow Todd’s advice and take him to a petting zoo.

23.

Put a tracking device in the spare pill bottle Dirk carries, in case Todd ever has an attack of pararibulitis. It’s the one thing Dirk can be relied upon to always keep close at hand. I will find a way to keep him out of Blackwing’s hands! I don’t care if he was only in their facility for a week this time. They won’t get him again.

24.

That strange Doctor with the scarf and jelly babies (formally known as Project Phoenix) may be a little eccentric but Dirk needs all the friends he can get. Encourage Dirk to keep in contact with him.

25.

No more cases involving Norse Gods.

26A.

If Mr. Priest ever captures Todd to use as bait again, knock Dirk unconscious and hand cuff him in a locked cupboard so that he can’t do something so stupid again. Get Todd to do the same thing if Priest captures me.

26B.

Shoot Mr. Priest next time I see him or capture him and give him to the Rowdy Three.

27.

Save the cheerleader, save the world?

28.

Cases involving Egyptian Gods are okay.

29.

If Dirk doesn’t get cases regularly enough he becomes twitchy. Buy him some mystery novels and offer to play a game of Cluedo with him.

30.

Do not accept cases brought to the Agency by Angela Merkel.

31.

Never try to reconcile Todd and the other members of his old band, Mexican Funeral, again. It’s not worth the angst. Yes, what Todd did was wrong but he’s a completely different person now. Plus, Ross is just an ass. I get that they used to date and they broke up under bad circumstances but Ross didn’t need to say those things to Todd. It was just uncalled for.

32.

Humour Todd and sing in his new band, Holistic Detectives, with Dirk.

33.

No more cases involving socks, fairies or tracking down sweets that have been stolen from a baby.

34.

Don’t wait to see Mr. Priest again before trying to kill him. Instead, track him down and shoot him several times in the head. He’s not getting near Dirk or Todd again!

At least the tracking device in the spare pill bottle Dirk carries was a success.

Author Notes:

I know it’s Rowdy 3 not Rowdy Three but lest be real here, Farah would write the word three.

I might write two sequels to this; ‘Todd’s List of Rules to Keep Dirk Happy and Stop Farah from Killing Us Both’ and ‘Dirk’s Plans to do What It Takes to Keep Todd and Farah Safe��. Does a story count as a sequel if they take place at the same time as the first story?

[harriedwritings]

      // beep boop this is a permanent motherheckin starter call heck

y’all want a sarcastic shit who’s simultaneously the kind of big sister that’ll goad siblings into standing on an unstable well and stand RIGHT THERE SO SHE CAN SNAG THEM OFF OF IT BECAUSE ACTUALLY THAT’S DANGEROUS pls no ???  who was sO CERTAIN from the second her parents were reported to social services that this was it, this was the moment where she’d never get anywhere in life, that she lashed the fuck out and even now that she’s been accepted into college she finds it hard to believe that it won’t get ripped the fuck away from her ???  how about an aggressive gay who, when confronted with situations that Speak to her, engages with the kind of softness that no amount of bullshit could stamp out ???  whose party trick is escapology but fUCK if she doesn’t want to engage in it, considering the last time she had to, it was to escape her adoptive father who’d been possessed by a demon and HOW ABOUT WE JUST DON’T TALK ABOUT DEMONIC POSSESSION OKAY AWESOME ???  

all of the above ???  GREAT !!  like or reblog this post for a post-series starter from the (tv) exorcist’s verity !! 

// disclaimer: i reserve the right to maintain a vagueness of setting to be hashed out at a later date // i also reserve the right to drop u a message like ‘yo let’s plot s/th out’ instead // p.s. the mun has not seen the movie, and no prior knowledge of verity or the exorcist is required if you choose to like this post

[jupitermelichios]

Smaville S1 E20

This is the kind of episode that should kill a writers career stone dead, and yet never seems to.

Sidenote: at this point I would legit purchase and wear a Team Whitney shirt even knowing it’s a decade and a half too late to influence the writers. He deserved so much better

- They must be using up all their leftover budget from the season, because that was a legit helicopter shot

- Whitney is seriously the best boyfriend

- Lana: *sees gas main about to catch fire.* *Doesn’t feel the need to run.* You had better not complain about being injured bitch, because this is your own fucking fault

- Oh hey, is someone going to kill Chloe?! It seems unlikely, but I live in hope.

- Jonathan Kent, purveyor of casual misogyny to the masses

- Lex is thirsty for that stern fatherly approval. It’s a shame he’s too old to be adopted by Bruce Wayne

- The fact that Lana is dating the nicest boy in the school honestly doesn’t seem to occur to anyone as a reason why Clark should stop hitting on Lana

- When Lana says she had a vivid dream about Chloe, you can just see the porn playing in Clark’s head...

- The show doesn’t even bother to actually show us Chloe being kidnapped, it just assumes we’ll believe Lana’s dream sequence...

- I wish I didn’t know you were an asshole Pete, I’d be pleased for you having a hot date if I didn’t hate you

- Never tie someone up without safety sheers, that’s bondage 101!

- Apparently escapology is one of Chloe’s hobbies, good job girl. I mean, it was totally ineffectual, but you got that duct-tape off impressively quickly

- FFS Lana, what the hell did you think would happen if you told the police you had a psychic vision of your friend being kidnapped?!

- Seriously Lex? The National Enquirer says there are aliens in Smallville and you don’t dismiss it out of hand? The fact that they’re right doesn’t make it any less unbelievable

- Clark has supersenses and superspeed, but searching for his kidnapped friend apparently hasn’t occurred to him.

- It’s nice that we’re getting so much backstory for Chloe’s kidnapper... Lol. Literally all we know about the dude is that he exists. At this point it’s almost being framed like Chloe is faking it.

- Okay, where the fuck did the kidnapper get a coffin with a crucifix shaped window in the top?! WHO MAKES COFFINS WITH WINDOWS?!

- “I saw Chloe being buried alive. There was a windmill. I don’t know where it was.” It has been a whole 5 episodes since you told Clark that climbing that thing was your greatest ambition, and you’ve already forgotten where it is. I know your personality consists entirely of blandness and plot convenience but that is some high-level bullshit. Do you just want Chloe to die? Because that’s a motivation I could get behind.

- “I’m going to write an exclusive about my traumatic kidnapping and near death for the school paper” I know the Principle is dead, but there’s no fucking way you’re going to get away with putting that in a school paper. And nor should you.

- Lex I love you, but maybe don’t dig up people’s fields without permission?

- You deserve to lose everything Jonathan, you really do

- “We don’t know if the meteors are dangerous” WHY DO GIEGER COUNTERS NOT EXISTS IN THIS UNIVERSE?!

- “If they find anything, they’ll trace it straight back to you Clark” How? Unless Clark starts giving voluntary blood samples, fucking how?!

- TELL. LEX. THE. TRUTH. YOU. MORON!

- Oh good, Clark taking over running the Torch apparently means he also takes over the insane dream logic duties!

- “Groups of people huddling together during the London Blitz would often find themselves psychically linked.” Oh yeah, that well-known phenomenon, I remember learning all about this in history lessons. It’s actually super common in the UK. We’re all low level psychic.

- “Who would suspect a Cop?” It’s 2017. All sane people.

- “I could have been a great cop, the best cop this town has ever seen” It’s got 3000 inhabitants max. You are already one of the top three police officers BECAUSE IT ONLY HAS THREE POLICE OFFICERS! Why does he think serial kidnappings and murders of middle class white teenage girls would get left to the local beat cops? What the fuck does he think the FBI are even for?

- I want to see a redo of this episode where Lana gets psychically linked to a random nice dude and gets to watch him make oatmeal, pee and watch bad tv while Chloe quietly dies off-screen

- “It’s an alloy that doesn’t exist on earth” Then how do you know it’s an alloy dumbass? Also call NASA. Why does no one in this show ever call NASA? I hate you all and so does science.

- Oh shit, is Jonathan killing people? Who the hell else would have a reason to kill the dude who saw Clark’s spaceship? I always knew he’d crack in the end!

[renoxa]

Woven and Sustainable Lamp Shades – The Best of the Bunch

It’s taken me a while to come round to this trend. I think it’s because I can remember it the first time around when it was often to be found in rooms with brown shag pile carpets and orange upholstery. But I’ve been having a re-think and it’s all to do with how you use them. They do have a warm and natural feel. They look great in Scandinavian style rooms with bleached wood and white. Look terrific in garden rooms with lots of greenery and views of the garden. And give a distinctly boho-vibe in rooms that mix Moroccan rugs and tasselled cushions. They can even be paired with completely contemporary furniture and hard-edged kitchens. It’s all about the contrast of textures. So now that we know they have a lot of uses around the home, I’m going to tell you why woven lampshades are a really good idea.

This post does contain some affiliate links. If you decide to buy anything featured you won’t pay any more, but Dear Designer’s will receive a small commission to help keep this blog up and running.

Firefly & Bulb (Pure Natural), £204, Escapology.

Sustainability

It’s the materials used you see. To achieve the bendy shapes and woven patterns, natural pliable materials have to be used. The examples I’m showing here are all made of rattan, bamboo, plywood, cardboard, paper and even wool. All sustainable materials.

Birdy Wire Pendant Light, with Braided Rattan Border, £69, Cuckooland

Inexpensive and Easy to Install

In most cases you won’t need an electrician to install a woven lampshade. It will simply hang from the existing fitting. They are also light, so there is no need to go hunting for the joist in case the plasterboard won’t take the weight. They are also inexpensive. Relatively. Okay so there may be one or two where you are paying for the name of the designer, but on the whole they won’t break the bank.

Zome Lamp, £685, Noxu Home

A Combination of Looks and Effectiveness

The woven patterns and holey effect of the lampshades can create some interesting patterns and light effects when lit. The also look very handsome unlit. Adding another texture to a room. In my book that’s too big ticks for a combination of looks and effectiveness. There’s an added advantage too. Because of their lightness and relative cheapness you can probably afford to go large. And there’s nothing more effective than a large statement light in any room in the house.

1. Sagano Drop Pendant Light, £156, Noxu Home.

2. Pendant Ceiling Light in Twisted Paper, £129, Cuckooland.

3. Dutchbone Hanging Rattan Lamp, £149, Cuckooland.

4. Kyoto Pendant Lamp, £79, Noxu Home.

5. Bloomingville Fisherman’s Bamboo Pendant Lamp, £155, Beaumonde.

6. Gray & Willow Rattan Weave Shade, £65, House of Fraser.

7. Black Woven Rattan Pendant Light, £85, Oh What’s This.

8. Astemik Woollen Pendant Light, £305, PIB.

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Woven and Sustainable Lamp Shades – The Best of the Bunch published first on https://medium.com/@ConklinBros