#i need to stop futzing with this

[yazzydream]

So I'm gonna have you help me show off even more.

[astraldrake]

a visitor from distant lands comes to usher in the age of stars

[bg3sinbin]

"I love you..." Raphael whispered between kisses, bringing a smug smile to their lips. Ahh, how quickly they fall. It seemed like just yesterday he refused to even touch them, and now they had him wrapped around their little fing- "I love you, Raphael." Oh.

[mistydragonflyart]

BIRTHDAY HAIRCUT

Let's pretend I'm posting this on February 29th for my own sake. Because this bitch of a drawing was kicking my ass every step of the way and anytime I thought I was done I kept tweaking it. I couldn't stop. Even now I'm fighting the urge.

Anyways, I've been trying to redesign Tyler multiple times and the one feature I could never settle on was his hair. So I thought it would be fun, if as a 'final design reveal' he would get a haircut. There's also something here about both of them being trans now and the intimacy of getting a haircut from your situationship but it's not obvious because all the lore is in my heart. But trust me, it's there.

Is this his final design? Probably not. I think my brain just needs to get used to this and I need practice.

[vexic929]

My copy paste is not working for some reason but the one under Coffee Noir? According to google translate is "The future is broken" but I'll take that with a grain of salt

/for the wip folder game lol

that's actually almost a correct translation! the original title is The Broken Future and it's now actually a planned 2 book series with the first book titled 鎖壊れた or Broken Chains and the second 未来壊れた, this is my longest running WIP, it's probably been a literal decade I've been working on it at this point, she has LAYERS bestie lol

unfortunately I've been so sporadic with the way I'm writing it and I've overhauled the ENTIRE world only recently so I don't actually have an proper snippets to show cause almost everything is changing XD

[charliemwrites]

A Thought™️ that I had last night and shared in the Discord server, that I’m now going to share here more fleshed out.

Content: implied/mentioned dubcon, kidnapping, unhealthy relationship dynamics, objectification, and reader anxiety.

Oh and Simon being Mean.

You belong to Johnny — one of his toys, essentially. Like a cock ring or a vibrator but better because you also serve as a little companion pet. Someone that Simon got for Johnny to pour all that overflowing love and tenderness into when he just… can’t handle it. When he starts wanting to hurt Johnny in Very Bad ways past the lines they already walk, only because Johnny wants to dote on him.

So Simon got you as a gift for Johnny.

And he gets to dote on you, chatter to you, soothe you, fuck you. It’s a weird “relationship” you two have. Johnny pouring so much into you while you awkwardly try to reciprocate and tolerate. A bit like a child’s beloved long-suffering pet. Simon lets Johnny drag you everywhere, dress you up, babble on about you. Put in all that attention and energy when Simon is needed (or simply just focused) elsewhere. Johnny’s happy as a peach, Simon gets a bit of a break, and you’re a soft-spined thing that’s stopped crying and whining for the most part so wins all around.

You and Simon’s relationship is nonexistent. Just a matter of logistics. You’re one of Johnny’s toys that Simon got for him, end of. You interact with him only so far as 1, following the rules of captivity; 2, keeping Johnny happy; and 3, being used as a reward or punishment to be given or taken away.

And the two of you are respectively fine with that. You follow Johnny around, speak almost solely to or through him. Are not acknowledged by Simon unless Johnny’s showing you off.

Until Johnny is gone for a Period of Time. A mission, most likely.

While he’s away, you treat it as a sort of vacation and just avoid Simon, don’t even ask when Johnny will be back. Until one day you’re going about your business, kind of bebopping along in your own little world. And almost run directly into Simon.

Blink in surprise, hurriedly skirt around him, pulse skipping. “Excuse me,” you say, soft and melodic (a voice you specifically use to soothe and neutralize) and then pad away quickly.

It flips something in Simon’s brain. Like a cat seeing a bit of interesting movement. Locked on, tail swishing.

You’re just so… shy. Even with Johnny you’ve always been a bit reserved, but with Simon you studiously avoid eye contact with his very person - in a way he can’t even get Johnny to do in the deepest subspace. You’re just this quiet little thing that lives in his house, and it’s like it only just occurs to him.

Simon starts finding ways to hem you in against counters and walls, making you squeeze past in hallways. You try to be so so careful of his Sacred Personal Space because Johnny’s gleeful shared stories (and shown you evidence) about how Simon “handles” touching without permission. You’ve no interest in being on the receiving end of any of that, thank you very much.

But then Simon starts showing up all over the house to watch you like a specimen — you devoid of Johnny. You’re so normal and functional. Snacks and tv shows and novels. Bird watching in the windows. Napping in Johnny’s room. Cooking and cleaning up after yourself.

He starts taking up all the space you just got back. Fills up a room with his presence alone. Squishes you in on the couch until you’re nearly falling over the arm just to maintain that sliver of no-contact.

Gets to the point that he even growls at you when you pass too close, just to hear you squeak and watch you dart off with a mumbled, “sorry!”

“Make us a cup of tea,” he says as your futzing in the kitchen on morning.

You’re so used to being ignored that you don’t respond, mouthing words to some ditzy song stuck in your head. He grunts in annoyance and takes two long strides towards you — not that he needs to, your head snapped up halfway through the first.

“Oop,” you breathe, scrambling away from the counter.

“The hell are you going?” He ask, voice purposefully gruff.

“I, um… I thought… that you needed something…?” you explain, pointing at the cabinets you were just in front of.

“I need a fucking cuppa.”

You blink.

He reminds himself that you’re not trained like Johnny. But that doesn’t mean you’re getting away with anything.

“Do I need to spell it out for you?”

A double blink as you seem to process. “O-oh! Uh, sure. The black cup right?”

You shuffle back to your previous spot and reach into the cabinet, up on your toes because Simon put it a shelf higher than usual. Seem to actually be waiting for a response as you hold the mug up in question. He just stares.

And there goes the nibbling - a nervous habit that tears up your bottom lip. Still, you keep going, filling the kettle and tapping your fingers nervously at the sides as you wait.

“Earl Grey?” you ask.

He grunts. You look a little frustrated about that, if you should take it as a yes. Decide that it is and fish a sachet out while the water’s heating.

While you wait, you try to continue what you were doing before - making yourself a little parfait - but Simon’s stationed himself in such a way that you can’t get to the cutting boards without asking him to move. And you really, really want some of the fresh fruit he bought yesterday.

“Um…” you start.

He crosses his arms, seems to loom without ever taking a step closer. You fidget, fingers twisting in the long sleeves of your jumper.

“I need — could… could you…?” You’re flushing brighter and brighter, eyes darting all over so fast he’s surprised you’re not dizzy. “Could I get by… um, into that cupboard… please?”

He takes a single half step to the side. Your eyes actually get a bit shiny as you blink, confusion and anxiety welling up. But you keep it together enough to awkwardly angle yourself, get the cabinet open just a sliver, and maneuver a cutting board out.

Simon realizes you’re holding your breath the entire time, until you’re once again a safe distance away. He snorts softly as you pluck a tiny paring knife from the block and get to work on cutting up your assortment of fruits.

“Who the hell said you could have a knife?” he demands.

You pause, give him a truly baffled look. “Um… no one said I couldn’t? I just, uh, use them sometimes. Johnny’s taught me tricks. Or-or tried to anyway…”

It’s the most he’s ever heard you speak. Your tone catches between appeasement and genuine confusion. You finish cutting a strawberry into cubes, then send him a worried glance.

“Am I… not supposed to…?”

Because you know that it doesn’t matter how things normally are. What matters is how Simon wants things to be.

“Put that down.”

You do. He strides towards you and as always, you’re quick to make way. He takes up the knife to finish paring and jerks his head at the the stove.

“Tea’s almost done. Take care of it.”

You jump as the kettle starts to whistle, murmur a quick “oh, shoot!” as you hurry to finish making his tea. By the time you’re done, he’d cut all the fruit and stolen a handful as a toll for his “help”.

Hasn’t actually put any of the fruit in your waiting yogurt, though. And the dishes are still there on the counter, along with detritus of unwanted bits like strawberry tops.

He takes a sip — made just the way he likes.

“Next time, dont make me repeat myself,” he barks.

You jump nearly a mile, blueberries rolling across the counter.

“Y-you repeated yourself?” You ask, hurrying to catch the berries before they hit the ground.

“About the tea,” he explains impatiently.

You blink for a second. “Oh! I thought you were on the phone. Sorry.”

He grunts. And doesn’t leave. After a moment, the pressure of his stare seems to get to you.

“Was… there anything else…?” you wonder.

“I’d tell you if there was,” he replies, flat.

You swallow, press your lips together, then continue with your task, shoulders a little tenser than before. When your parfait is finished (and dishes are in the machine) you escape to the dining table to eat in peace. He gives you two solitary bites before he’s at the corner next to you, and your spoon clinks against the bowl in surprise.

Well.

Isn’t this a fun game?

Next

Masterlist

[revelboo]

My brother got me the boi (late Christmas cause he has hypersomnia so it's hard to plan things). I immediately unboxed him and started futzing around.

Ignore my messy bedside table in the background.

Ah! The best boi! Mine arrives tomorrow I think

Bad Idea Pt 18

TFP Soundwave x Reader

• Soundwave’s only response to his drone screaming his new favorite phrase had been to stare at you for an unsettlingly long time and then flash a little heart emoji at you before heading to his desk to work on reports. And Lazerbeak had winged closer to you. Even as expressionless as he is, you’re almost certain the little gremlin is smirking at you. “You’re an absolute troll, you know that right?” You hiss as big bird tips his head at you and croaks.

• Listening to you grumble at his drone and Lazerbeak’s amused chortling in response, something settles inside him at the sound. Lazerbeak comfortable enough to pick at you like he had his siblings and how long has it been since he’s heard Lazerbeak sound happy? Teasing and relaxed. He’s missed this so much. Keeping his attention divided between work and the two of you, he reaches out a tendril to hook around your ankle. Letting the feel of you, the sound of you and Lazerbeak squabbling, ground him. Feeling at home for the first time in forever, even if it’s chased by guilt. By the feeling he doesn’t deserve to be happy.

• Glancing down at the tendril coiled around your ankle, then at Soundwave tipping his head just enough to see you as his servos move steadily over his alien keyboard, you relax. Aware that he’s watching over you both. Eavesdropping even though you can’t be too annoyed with him for it since he’s most likely just waiting to see if he needs to separate you two like little kids. And while the drone is an absolute demon, you’re pretty sure they’re a package deal. You’ve got to at least try to get along with big bird for your big cryptid boyfriend’s sake. Though, you’re not entirely sure boyfriend is the right word for whatever the two of you are. Maybe he’s just got a xenophilia kink and you’re scratching that itch. Who knows?

• Servos moving on his keyboard, he hesitates when a new request comes through from Shockwave. Unusual in of itself, since Shockwave prefers to figure things out hands on. Opening the request, he freezes, because he’s asking for information on human reproduction and sexual health. And he just stares at the screen, tendrils flicking because he knew the unhinged scientist had a human that he’d somehow not managed to turn inside out or otherwise kill. But why ask about that?

• It’s the fact that Soundwave’s steady tapping has stopped that makes you and the drone both look over. And the big guy is just staring at his screen of alien gibberish and not moving at all, except for the restless thrashing of all his tendrils but the one around your ankle. Watching as the drone wings over to land on his shoulder and peer at the screen before making that croaking noise you’ve decided is probably laughter. Because whatever the screen says is apparently hysterically funny and you’re left out from the joke.

Previous

Next

[mlobsters]

oh internet kitty, we're really in it now meme cats #6

acrylic on canvas 8x10" - painting video below

prints & apparel

song: pink pony club by chappell roan

so this meme cat photo captured my heart and i was wanting to go an opposite direction color story-wise after my very verdant green zendaya painting and was really inspired by @leahgardner-art colors in some of her still life food paintings - particularly a few in the series of suckers - so i put a little riff/homage to one of those paintings as a piece of art on the wall of this dear little keyboard cat. and went a little bi pride with the theme and more directly with the string lights 🩷💜💙. i'm not entirely thrilled with the background but i do love how the kitty came out and i want to stop futzing with it. i've changed the background over and over and i need to force myself to stop 😂

cat inspo reference, i spend a decent amount of time and couldn't track down the origins of this one either, sadly. once something has caught on, it just spreads far and wide and the original post may be lost to the sands of time. if you know where it actually originated, let me know so i can link it!

[mightyflamethrower]

Democratic strategist and CNN contributor Julie Roginsky said Thursday on CNN’s “Newsroom” that her party cannot speak to “normal people,” stating that it was “not the party of common sense.”

Roginsky said, “You know, I’m going to speak some hard truths to my friends in the Democratic Party. This is not Joe Biden’s fault. It’s not Kamala Harris fault. It’s not Barack Obama’s fault. It is the fault of the Democratic Party in not knowing how to communicate effectively to voters. We are not the party of common sense, which is the message that voters sent to us. For a number of reasons, for a number of reasons, we don’t know how to speak to voters.

When we address Latinos — and language, and language has meaning — we address Latino voters. as Latinx, for instance, because that’s the politically correct thing to do, it makes them think that we don’t even live on the same planet as they do.

When we are too afraid to say that, ‘Hey, college kids, if you’re trashing a campus of Columbia University because you aren’t happy about some sort of policy and you’re taking over a university and you’re trashing it and preventing other students from learning that that is unacceptable.’ But we’re so worried about alienating one or another cohort in our coalition that we don’t know what to say.”

She continued, “When normal people look at that and say, ‘Wait a second, I send my kids to college so they can learn, not so that they can burn buildings and trash lawns,’ right? And so on and so forth. When we put pronouns after names and say she/her, as opposed to saying, you know what, if I call you by the wrong pronoun, call me out, I’m sorry, I won’t do it again,” but stop with the virtue signaling and just speak to people like they’re normal. There’s nothing I’m going to say to Shermichael, that I’m not going to say to you, that I’m not going to say to somebody else. I speak the same language to everybody. But that’s not what Democrats do. We constantly try to parse out different ways of speaking to different cohorts because our focus groups or our polling shows that so-and-so appeals to such and such. That’s not how normal people think. It’s not common sense. And we need to start being the party of common sense again.”

Sounds like a few dems got the message. If you think a man can go home at noon, switch from boxers to panties, and come back to work as a real women most people, especially men, are going to think you are nucking futz. They certainly aren't going to vote for you.

[dark-overlord-of-rainbows]

Drawn May 16 2025

I've been looking at some older art a lot recently and it's reminded me of some things about my old process/internal rules that are different now. Because of that I've gone back to some things I used to do every once in a while, but y'know. I like to do a bunch of different stuff now.

One thing was, I never used pure blacks, whites, or grays. That was a hard rule. I'm not including the backgrounds obviously, but uh, you might note the obvious black lineart here?

So uh. It kinda went from a thing I never did to a very specific character breaking that rule (Émile's hair in his current design is a pure black, but before it was a completely different character with that same quirk. But at this time Émile's the only one like that)

Another part was that my sketch/lineart changed (I never know whether to call what I do lineart or sketch now. I think it was similar back then. whatever). The no-blacks was something that extended to how I did the sketch as well.

Back then I also didn't use inking brushes (for a while it was one specific pencil, but I eventually branched out) and I usually did my linework in pinkish-red that I'd set to multiply. This would also mean I'd need my colouring clean and hand-done under those lines too (well. I'm sure a lot of it I didn't need and it was more perfectionism than anything. But another thing worth noting is I work at huge canvas sizes now and I don't think I did back when I started with that process…? so that would affect how easy it was to fill those lines and also how visible small mistakes were)

Because of the time it took and I wanted to experiment with my art more, sometime during artfight I adopted a different method to lineart - but it didn't stick for a while. For a couple years it was something I only did during AF, iirc

I don't remember the in-between, but obviously I change up my inking style a lot and I gravitate more towards the inking-style brushes rather than the pencils nowadays. I don't remember why I did start using black for lineart, but I think some of it was just. using middling colours on a middle-gray background is hard to distinguish and I didn't like using light ones. and I wanted to do art faster so I stopped doing that whole'zooming in and cleaning up colour that, at a certain point, didn't need more futzing- I was just wasting time' thing. That and I might've just started forgetting to change the colour since there was one point, or just certain drawings, I would change the lineart colour after I finished drawing it.

There's things I do in the lineart I wouldn't have done before too. Sometimes I do the dark undereye circles in the lineart instead of colouring. Here, the dark part of Lake's eyes, as well as Suchai's gauges and nailpolish are just filled in. Before I would not fill these things in lineart, but this is faster.

If I were using a multiply layer here though, I would not do that, as it's be faster in that case to leave empty and colour in with that 'not-really-black' I had used for everywhere else. I just changed because it suited my new method better

There used to be one exception to the no-whites though. it was for some highlights, and I think almost exclusively got used on the eyes. I don't do that as much now.

Something you might notice in some drawings with a lot of characters is that some or all of them have slightly (or not-that-slightly) different sclera colours. That's kinda related. I try to make the off-whites, off-blacks, and off-grays fit the palette, but when they weren't done together (or were, but if it's an older drawing, probably not well) things like that would pop up. I don't think it's inherently bad, but it hasn't always been good.

Something else I used to do were shapes instead of actual noses (I mean. Not that I always draw "actual noses," These two are generally with a line and a scribble to indicate it) I had trouble with them, so I just never bothered.

At some point though I just started hating my art so I was just like "okay I think something needs to change" so I changed a few things. I was worried going back to trying to draw not-just-shapes would be difficult, but from what I remember it was fine. I think doing just-shapes in 3D space helped me get a better grasp on how noses should look (plus whatever skills I had developed elsewhere I could now apply there)

I've thought about going back to that for a long time, maybe not in my usual style (how I normally do anatomy & proportions) but something a little simpler or cartoonier, but I've done one, maybe two things in that time? Whatever. At least I can now better express what was in my head when I drew various sizes of triangles, squares/rectangles, and circles/ovals. And do more shapes too!

[keelywolfe]

I have a potentially funny/potentially angsty scenario to run by you out of curiosity.

So, Lucifer has never used his workshop at the hotel, right? What if one day out of the blue, he has the sudden impulse to finally go into his workshop for the first time in months?

It's just another one of those days where he has nothing to really do around the hotel, so he randomly decides to go to see how much time he can kill in the workshop. He doesn't intend to be in there long, and everyone else is busy, so he doesn't bother telling anybody where he's going. Why should he? It's only going to be for a few minutes, a half hour at most. Why, he doesn’t even bother bringing his phone with him, and besides, the battery's dead and needs to charge anyway. Damn adhd/depression combo.

So Lucifer, without telling anybody where he's going, pays a visit to the workshop that hasn't gotten any use since it was made. The workshop that the majority of the hotel residents and staff have probably either forgotten was there or never knew existed in the first place. He's only expecting to be in there a short while, maybe do a little painting, maybe a little crafting, maybe a little tinkering. Just futz about for a bit until lunchtime rolls around...

He ends up unexpectedly hyperfixating like crazy and doesn't leave the workshop for a minimum of three days.

So, my questions are:

How long does it take for anybody to find him?

Who is it that does eventually find him?

In the event that nobody finds him because nobody thinks to check the hotel workshop, how long does it take for Lucifer to come out of his fugue state and re-emerge on his own?

And finally, when Lucifer does stumble his way back to rejoin society - probably very tired, very hungry, and very much in need of a shower - how much trouble is he in with the rest of the hotel? Particularly Charlie and Alastor?

Optional Bonus Question!

What is the project Lucifer ends up hyperfixating on?

Apologies for the late answer, I've been out of town.

I can't go into the workshop too much because it will end up as a plot point. But!

How long does it take for anybody to find him? That evening. Lucifer might have to spend a night or two wondering where Alastor is, Alastor has no such patience and will find him. There is no hiding in the hotel from Alastor.

Who is it that does eventually find him? Alastor because he’s just getting used to sleeping with someone else and he’s not about to stop now.

In the event that nobody finds him because nobody thinks to check the hotel workshop, how long does it take for Lucifer to come out of his fugue state and re-emerge on his own? Alastor would absolutely find him, but his record for hyperfocus is well over a year, and in that case, he only snapped out of it because he was running out of room for ducks.

And finally, when Lucifer does stumble his way back to rejoin society - probably very tired, very hungry, and very much in need of a shower - how much trouble is he in with the rest of the hotel? Particularly Charlie and Alastor? Charlie would be filled with anxious concern and care. Alastor would physically pick him up and carry him to the shower, complaining the entire time about how he stinks, how dare he do this to them all, does he have any idea how concerned Charlie was for him, such disrespect, look at the state of your hair, have you no shame...

Optional Bonus Question!

What is the project Lucifer ends up hyperfixating on? How to fix a sentient broken microphone.

[falling-star-cygnus]

Alrighty then another Billy angst idea what if someone hacked into Billy's systems and made him fight the other hares and there isn't anything he can really do except wait to be defeated, man I'm just cranking these out and I haven't even played the game

another excellent idea!! i love fics like this

especially if the puppeteered one is like- aware they're being controlled [even if they shouldn't be] and actively fighting against it -> mentally OR physically

so sorry for the delay, school started back up again and i've been stress reorganizing my entire room :)

The lights flicker above Nicole's desk.

...she paid the electric bill. In full- this time. And there was no storm going on. There was no reason for them to be futzing like that. Nictating darkness swallows the room again, and then stops.

"Stop acting expensive," the boss mutters scathingly, as she glowers at the innocuously sitting desk lamp. It, of course, doesn't verbally respond. The lights flicker again.

"You-!"

Her retort is interrupted by a loud thump in the next room and she sets down the papers she had been working on to stand up.

So help her god, if Anby and Nekomata were wrestling again... the boss throws the door open with a slam.

"Knock it off with the rough housing, you two! You're messing with the... power.. huh?"

The living room was empty.

Anby and Nekomata were fast, but they weren't that fast. Nicole would, at the very least, be able to catch a glimpse of the two fleeing if they had been throwing each other around.

What could've possibly... the boss saunters forward. She wasn't going to creep in her own home, thank you very much. She wasn't Anby.

"It wasn't us this time."

Speak of the devil. Nicole nearly leaps out of her skin as the smaller Demara materializes next to her.

"Anby! A warning."

"Warning," she says, like the cheeky thing she is.

"Does anybody know what that crash was?" Nekomata asks, appearing right under the boss's elbow, "It sounded like it came from Billy's room.."

The cat thiren should count herself lucky that she can move so fast; Nicole's elbow rockets down as she feels the brush of fuzzy ears, but the smaller girl dodges to Anby's side before it makes contact.

"Nekomata."

Anby whispers something into Nekomata's ear.

"Oh- uh.. warning!"

Nicole restrains the sudden urge to strangle both of them.

Ugh, where was Billy when she needed him? Anby blatantly corrupting Nekomata was something the boss did not need happening. His loud, clamorous energy would make her feel a lot better about these light-footed sleuths...

...wait a second.

"Nekomata, where did you say you heard that crash?"

The lights shut off before the thiren girl can answer.

Nicole comes face to face with a gun when they power back on.

"Warning."

"Billy-!?" she rears back as the safety clicks off, barely avoiding the twin bullets that pierce her fluttering bangs, "Hey, hey! Whatever you're mad about, we can talk about it-!"

The android adjusts his grip, far too still to even remotely resemble Billy's usual flair, and fires again at Nicole's foot. It misses, but just barely.

Anby knocks his gun off course with a quick flick of her sword. Or- she tries to, Billy hooks the gear shaped chamber on one of the serrated edges and yanks it out of the smaller girl's grip.

It goes flying past Nekomata to pierce the couch cushions.

The android lines up two more shots and fires them simultaneously; one at Anby and one at Nekomata. They both dodge- thankfully- but all too late do they all remember that he was built for accuracy.

The bullet glances off the sword in the cushions to graze the Thiren's thigh, and she falters down with yelp. It looks like a shallow cut- clean in the way it only hits her skin. Meanwhile, the other bullet angles off the door frame to ricochet into the base of Anby's backpack.

The smaller Hare is flung forward in the resulting mini explosion, but catches her bearings in time to avoid being pistol whipped.

This wasn't right- The Billy she knew would never attack one of them like this. And even if he was trying to seriously harm them- which Nicole suspects isn't the case by the way he had aimed for Anby's protected sleeves- he was a fast shot.

There was a barely noticeable delay when Billy fired his guns at them now, though, like his fingers were actively fighting against pulling the trigger.

Puzzle pieces begin to click into place.

Nicole heaves her briefcase up to slam into the android's stomach, feeling a wave of guilt at the way the metal crunches. He was so quiet. No silly noises, no Starlight Knight's quotes, no- infectiously bright charisma.

She didn't realize how much she'd miss it.

Billy's eyes aren't the same soft yellow that greet the Hares' each day.

They're green. Poison green, and compounded like a bugs. Like corruption. Which shouldn't even be possible outside a Hollow, so it must mean that someone's taken control of Billy via some other method.

Nicole really hopes so, at least, as she lets the android- her friend- aim his gun at her face. Just as she suspected, he doesn't fire.

The gun shakes in his hand.

"Ƀøss-" Billy forces out, his voice glitched into something nigh unintelligible, "ﭐ ꒞aո'†-"

Time to shine.

"Billy Kid," Nicole crosses her arms, forcing every ounce of her 'scolding boss' voice to take control of her tone, "You put that gun down this instant."

His arm jerks as if to follow through, but otherwise stays in position.

"Are you disobeying a direct order?" she pushes, hoping it coaxes at least some form of response. Hoping that this worked.

The gun in Billy's left hand- held resolutely at his side- clatters to the ground, and Nekomata silently snatches it out of reach. Almost there.

"Last time I checked, I was your boss. Not whatever parasite is in that empty tin can you call a head. Who are you going to listen to?"

The gun goes off. ......................................

Billy wakes up to a spiking pain behind his video sensors.

The last few hours on his memory logs are blurred, rushed things. They're all tinted in green too, for some reason, but he can remember feeling vaguely helpless. Stuck. PAIN

It catches up with him slowly, but surely, and all too fast he's rocketing into a sitting position. Someone had put a blanket over the android's unconscious form, and it flutters to the ground as he all but throws himself off the couch- couch?

The couch that was still ripped from Anby's sword.

And spattered with Nekomata's blood.

He had to find Nicole.

Billy scrabbles for the handle leading into his boss's office, weirdly uncoordinated, and throws it open.

"BOSS-"

He doesn't get a chance to finish his sentence as his legs falter. Nicole is there- she's alive- and she's catching him as they both stumble to the floor. Both in relief, both for different reasons.

Billy returns the hug fiercely, be sure to keep his metal limbs loose enough not to crush her, and she pushes his head down into her shoulder.

"Boss- are you okay? Is Nekomata okay-? Anby-"

"Shut up, you big idiot!" Nicole sniffs, suspicously watery as she attempts to squeeze the life outta him, "everybody's fine."

"But-"

There's a sort of relieving familiarity in the way his boss shoves him back to whack his head, "Shut up! You're the one who shot yourself in the forehead. Why did you think that was a good idea!? Huh!?"

He did what. Billy's hands pat at his forehead, feeling for any sort of dent or hole or- something. But it's smooth under his fingertips.

"I hired that weird mechanic girl from Belobog Industries to fix it while you were out," Nicole huffs, "Grace, or- whatever her name was. You should be good as new."

Although said scathingly, his boss still falters as she stands up. She looks at the android with a slight pinch to her brow.

"Well? Are you?"

Billy's core thrums, and he lowers his hand from his forehead to offer a bright thumbs up and signature hand heart.

"Better than ever and ready to go, Boss!"

[kittvon]

@cherlawa-panna

Ohhhhhhhhh Thaaaaanks!!!! I’m sooooooo happy you like our bumping road trip!!! (Sobbing and Screaming)

I always hc that Francis (surely can be flirty and talkative) would totally be outshone by his chatterbox sarcastic parents，he’d be so happy to see Clint again and surprisingly finds his other parent is a total badass legend hero, but in 3 days my boy’s gonna be annoyed to d’eath by our birds’ jokes and all sorts of dog person behaviors.

And srsly, we have 4 Francis in 4 different universe and looked like 4 different people. 

(His babyface looks very Bobbi to me and he wears black n white in the cartoon movie)

And this dude from #2-5 Avengers (2010) is a gloomy statue like Uncle Ben.

Another Francis from #9-14 in Avengers World. One of the issues his hair’s painted auburn.

(Seems he has no idea who’s Bobbi, and what’s an aberration??? marvel! I need his full backstory!!)

Lil ‘dude just looked like Uncle Barney, and 3 issues later he’s blonde again.

guess boy loves dyeing his hair like his uncle.

Bobbi to Francis: This boy’s basically my brother (looks) 

Clint to Francis: This boy’s basically my brother (personality)

Barney to Francis：The kid’s basically sulky Clint (when I left him leg in a cast at Circus) but 10 times worse, pretty sure he’s gonna assassinate me when I doze off. (cause you use him as cushion)

Looks like Ash uses compound bow and Francis uses recurve bow. I heard people who use compound bow and people who use recurve bow don’t get along (Due to Clint’s influence on me since elementary school, I have a recurve bow and do archery sometimes but ain’t familiar with the archery community). 

Anyway I guess Francis and Ash are fine. Ash would love a slightly younger sibling and Francis’s jaw would drop when hearing about Ash’s story and somehow she’s a queen in their trash world now (yeah way cooler than a teen rebel leader sorry bro)

Francis: Okay sis so you owns a kingdom and I have to share my room with James Futzing Rogers.

Bobbi to Ash: OMGShe’s so Kate.

Clint to Ash: OMGShe’s so Kate.

Ash: bc Kate’s my birth mom, who I know nothing about til a few days ago she showed up when my Clint tried kill Zemo the King but now I’m Zemo, yep it’s complicated never mind let’s go karaoke!

From the podcast we get some cute domestic Clint even though he went paranoid later and sought revenge (also to protect Ash). Clint used to cook her breakfasts and they had different pancakes depending on which day it is, he remembered who Ash went to 1st grade with even after he left Roberta and Ash for 10 years. He’s described gentle and caring😭 So I guess having Clint’s barbecue would bring her memories back. (baby you deserve all the happily ever after)

Imaging how happy a chef he’d be when cooking for his loved ones🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

Since Roberta’s personality is a little different from our Bobbi (I get it, in the podcast both Clint and Kate are a bit on edge so they need someone more stable. But still, hearing she and Ash arguing and Ash calls Clint a diva is killing me.)

Ash would see our Bobbi more like a hella fun big sis and Bobbi would call on Nadia and Ying to join the crew (Don’t worry Ying’s gonna stop them before those three burn someone’s house down)

(Barney: I don’t think this damn car can get anymore crowded, I’m gonna shove someone into trunk)

Bobbi and Clint would show Ash and Francis videos of Lucky and Ka-Zar the corgi then force their kids to choose whose puppy’s cuter.

If we expand the family, Alkhema(the evil robot based on Bobbi’s brain pattern) can also count as one (horribly)

She’s gonna go “Hiyyya kids” and gets beaten by the kids bc Nadia and Ying were assassins, Ash hates Ultron in her world as gov surveillance and Francis just wants to burn every Ultron-like thing up.

Barbara who goes by Bobbi🤝 Natasha who goes by Ash🤝Charles who goes by Barney

Ben: Okay Bobbi so your boyfriend we met embarrassingly last time is actually your husband you knew for 9 days then you proposed and divorced and died and divorced and got back together and you have two teen kids from other universes (clearly there are other universes👌) one leads rebels in his universe the other disguises as the dictator in hers, but neither of them knows who you are and the grumpy man sitting next to me was once a mob person, supervillain, terrorist I guess I’m fine totally fine.

And I think they at least accidently(really?) left Barney and Francis at the gas station once. 

Barney: I could have been wasting my life sunbathing on my own island as always Clint owes me big.

[kikiiswashere]

Children of Zaun Mini-Chapter

Chapter 29.5 - Where does Katya go after leaving Viktor Friday night? And an answer to who that lanky someone was that Viktor saw at the end of the chapter.

Rating: Mature

Pairing: Silco x Katya, Sevika x Nasha, everyone x horniness

Chapter 29

After a beat, Katya wiped her hands on the rag hung over the kitchen faucet before stalking over to her coat, hung on the peg by the door. Surprised, Viktor looked up as she whipped the garment around herself.

“What are you – “

“I need to go take care of something,” she answered, shaking the collar out around her head. “If I am not back before nine, get ready for bed. Yes?” He nodded slowly. “Good. I love you. I’ll be back soon. Do not open the door for anyone.”

Viktor’s brow crumpled as she whisked out of their home.

Katya strode purposefully in the direction of The Last Drop, surprising annoyance simmering in her belly. She knew Viktor was terribly bored, but she wished he would just settle. She was worried about Enforcers. She was also worried about a well-meaning Brother or Sister outing her.

She had meant what she had told Silco the night prior: That she wanted to keep Viktor at arms-length from what was happening in the Undercity – in Zaun – until they were on the cusp of independence. When he would no longer be in danger because of her involvement.

But there was a darker something slithering just behind that altruistic motivation. Something Katya was afraid to fully look at.

She pulled her coat tighter around her waist and pressed on.

Trenchers defiantly stepped passed Enforcers, their shoulders pulled back, chests puffed up, unwilling to let Topside claim any more of their energy. If they wanted to go out on the town, they would. And performative threats were not going to stop them. Katya was grateful for the extra bodies. She was less likely to be singled out by an uppity Enforcer. Easier to melt back into the masses, and become one with her people.

Being Friday night, The Last Drop was busy. Patrons at every table, booth, and barstool. Some leaned against walls, drink in hand, waiting for someone to vacate their seat. A large group was huddled around the billards table, laughing and egging each other on. Tolder was stationed at his usual table, his cards spread between him and his victims for the evening. Sevika was nowhere to be found. Annie flitted effortlessly between the tables and customers, beaming bright.

Katya felt herself warm from the inside out at the sight. A few Children noticed her come in, and raised their glasses in greeting. The warmth bloomed bigger, a smile spreading across her face. She nodded back at them before making her way to the bar.

As usual, Vander was behind it; Silco and Benzo seated on stools in front of him, lit cigarettes dangling from their fingers. Silco and Vander were discussing something, their heads tipped toward the other. Benzo’s eyes lazily drifted around the bar before landing on Katya. She saw his lips move, a playful lilt forming on them. At once, Silco spun around. Vander stood up and his face dropped, his expression unreadable before morphing carefully into one of practiced politeness.

Silco looked at her, eyebrows curling up to his hairline; unsure if he should be worried or excited by her unexpected appearance. Relief swept through him when she smiled. He reached for her, and when she was close enough Katya took his hand. Like comet, she easily slid into the orbit of his body.

“Thought you couldn’ get away on Fridays,” Vander noted breezily. He began futzing with the taps. Ignoring how Silco’s hand wrapped around her waist, tugging her closer.

“Is everything alright?” Silco asked, his hand sweeping up and down her side.

“Yes, everything is fine. And I cannot stay long. I came to ask a favor.”

She looked at each of the men.

“What’d’ya need, Lass?” Benzo asked, taking a pull from his cigarette.

“Viktor wants to go to Augmentation Alley’s scrap yard tomorrow to look for materials for one of his classes. He’s been cooped up inside for the past few weekends, and I feel badly about it. I want to be able to take him, but I am concerned about Enforcers. Or getting him caught up in some kind of skirmish.” She sighed, “Would one of you be able and willing to tail us tomorrow? Keep a distance so he does not see you, but close enough to provide warning if someone is coming our way?”

“Yeah, I can do it,” Silco said. “I don’t have to be at the mines ‘til late. You and your brother would head home before supper, I take it.”

Kat nodded, tension in her shoulders melting down. She kissed his temple, and Silco hid his pleased expression behind a veil of cigarette smoke.

“Wish I could help,” Benzo replied, “but I gotta be at the shop tomorrow.”

“’N I’ll need to straighten and prep fer tomorrow night,” Vander mumbled, gathering Silco and Benzo’s empty glasses.

“That’s alright. One should be enough, I think. I hope.”

“It’ll be fine,” Silco assured.

Kat gave him a grateful smile, and told him what time she was planning on leaving for the scrap yard. Vander placed two full glasses in front of Benzo and Silco, and both nodded their thanks. Kat looked at the drinks wistfully.

Her voice was glum as she said: “I should head back. I told Viktor I would not be late.”

“I’ll walk you home,” Silco said automatically, making to stand.

“Sil,” Vander huffed, trying to sound amused, “I just poured you a drink.”

“It’s fine, Silco. I can manage,” Kat promised. She pressed a hand to his chest in encouragement to sit back down.

Silco looked from her, to the drink, to Vander, and back to Kat.

“Let me walk you to the door at least.”

Katya chuckled, rolling her eyes.

“Have a good night, Vander, Benzo,” she said and grabbed Silco’s hand, guiding him to the tavern’s door.

Benzo raised his glass to her. Vander nodded stiffly.

Once they stepped into the cool and neon-lit night, Silco’s hand clamped tightly around Kat’s, and pulled her toward the alley behind the Drop.

“Surely you didn’t think that you would appear on a night I normally don’t see you, and get away scot-free?” he purred, pressing her back against the stonewall. Crowding her with his body and shadows.

A knife of a grin sliced across Kat’s mouth, and she tugged on his shirt. His mouth readily crashed into her’s, lips prying, tongue searching. Her hands snaked around his back, and gripped his shirt in needy bunches. He grabbed at her with equal fervor, large hands squeezing her waist and hips.

Kat angled her head for deeper access, their tingling lips slotting together perfectly. Silco’s nose moved and brushed against her cheek. He pushed small, quiet groans from his mouth to hers. She trembled, arousal growing rapidly and sitting heavily between her thighs.

Scrabbling madly, her hand wove itself into Silco’s hair. She clutched it tightly, and his hips gave a small buck. A growl rumbled up from his chest, and he surged forward. His left hand slid up from her waist, and made to fondle her breast through the soft material of her blouse. Kat gasped. And with his lips free, Silco dove to suck and bite at her neck.

“Si – Sil – “ she panted. Of their own accord, her hips began undulating in small waves.

At the sound of her voice, the tether of Silco’s control snapped. He pulled his mouth off her with a harsh pop! and pulled her deeper into the alleyway.

They stumbled toward the Drop’s backdoor. The lust haze covering Kat’s judgement lifted enough to question the wiseness of fooling around in Vander’s apartment again. But before she could voice her concerns, Silco stopped in front of the small shed just a few feet away from the backdoor.

These structures were common in the Lanes’ business district – especially for taverns and restaurants (few that there were). They were meant to house the wood and coal used to heat stoves and ovens. However, due to Piltover’s chokehold on the import of products into the Undercity, most were woefully bare. Allowing space and privacy enough . . .

Kat’s heart leapt to her throat, and the ache between her legs gave an excited pulse. She squeezed Silco’s hand in understanding. In agreement. An excited, warbling breath left him as he reached forward, and ripped the shed door open.

“OH!” Kat exclaimed, lurching back and covering her mouth. Silco stared.

It seemed they had not been the only ones with this idea.

Tucked inside the shed, in varying states of undress, Sevika had Nasha pressed against the wall adjacent to the door. One of her hands held Nasha’s wrist above her head, the other was shoved down the front of her pants. Sevika’s cheek was resting on one of Nasha’s nearly exposed breasts, her silver eyes wide with horror at being caught-out.

Nasha, however, was more annoyed than anything. Her flushed face frowned at Silco and Katya.

“Occupied!” she snarled.

 A long limb snaped out, and pulled the door out of Silco’s hand, slamming it shut.

Kat and Silco stood in the alley for a long moment, before she awkwardly giggled and gently tugged him back toward the alley’s mouth.

“It is probably for the best,” she sighed. “I do need to get back home.”

Silco hummed a disappointed, but amenable note, before ducking down and kissing her. More chaste this time. Sweet and simple.

Kat squeezed his hand, and reluctantly slid her fingers out of his.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said.

She grinned and shrugged. “In a way.”

The smile spun melancholy. Silco hated the sight of it, so he dipped down and kissed it away.

“Thank you again,” Kat murmured as he drew back.

“I got you.”

“You have me.”

Just a little something. Any excuse to smoosh Kat and Silco's faces together, really 😂

Comments, reblogs, and recommendations keep me and other author's motiviational fires burning! I'd love to hear what y'all are thinking.

If you are enjoying this story, and have the means to do so, please consider supporting me by visiting my ko-fi page!

[yzafre]

Song: High Road by Kelly Clarkson

There comes a point where if you don't make yourself stop futzing with a thing, you never will. There's always more you can do, but, ahhhh I need to just let it go out into the wild.

((I DO feel like the youtube upload messed some of the timings up somehow, but... no, we're not fiddling with it any more!))

So here it is! After a week, it's done!

[pargolettasworld]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=84Egp-x-EVc

As I write this it looks like everyone involved has agreed to a ceasefire in Gaza, and some hostages will be returned.  I hope the deal holds -- it’s supposed to go into effect on Sunday the 19th of January, 2025, and these things are terribly fragile.  If the deal holds, and the firing stops, and the hostages go home, I will rejoice with whole heart.  That’s something worth celebrating.  And if it leads to the end of this iteration of The War, it will be even better.  No question about that.

Still, this song keeps going through my head.  It’s not in response to any of the futzing around between Hamas, Bibi, and the Backpfeifengesicht Boys (Smotrich and Ben-Gvir, who are both loathsome toads).  But I feel this in response to the way that the rest of the world has treated the Jews as a whole.  Make no mistake, it was about the Jews as a whole, no matter how loudly the chattering classes bleated “antizionism not antisemitism.”  They didn’t know the difference, and simply would not listen to the Jews trying to tell them.  

Like a lot of Jews, I’ve lost friendships over this.  I’ve seen my primary professional organization stand in fish-jawed silence when the Antisemitism Bomb dropped at the conference in October of 2023, two weeks after the Simchat Torah massacre, and then descend rather predictably into circulating petitions and making Official Statements about how best to punish the Genocidal State Of Israel™ from the knowledgeable position of being . . . an ethnomusicology organization.  I’ve seen security at synagogues ratchet up, with the FBI gloomily predicting that they don’t see the need for security easing off any time soon.

Of course, I’ve also seen stalwart, kind folks keep supporting the Jews they know, listening to us explain how we feel about hamatzav, being willing to learn things that they didn’t know (like, for instance, which river and which sea -- it’s surprising how many people don’t know that).  I am grateful for every single one of you in this group.

But, for all that, well . . . I know things now / Many valuable things / That I hadn’t known before.  Into The Woods is an underrated show, I think -- the movie version did it no favors -- and it has a lot of lessons to teach about wisdom and the price to pay for wisdom, and how innocence is lost, and what happens to people after they lose that innocence.  The Jews of Israel and the Jews of the Diaspora have learned things since October 7.

Isn’t it nice to know a lot! And . . . a little bit not.