#its a mess but. its legible i hope

[surreal-duck]

more oc stuff 🎉 i love divorce

[finely-tuned-line]

RP:

ARCHIVED - PRIVATE TRANSMISSION

DD: it was actually a spice! the idea that it was a food is a common misunderstanding! very few cities thought it was a good food by itself, and some went to the extremes that eating not as a spice was... sacrilege!

SNS: kind of drastic, it's just a spice?

DD: eh, its the ancients. pretty difficult to question anything

SNS: you're probably right on that! where'd you even dig this up, it seems... well, ancient.

DD: the ancients didnt slowly phase out the "indulgence of food" til abt... at least 3250 cycles before the discovery of void fluid?

DD: i got into an argument with someone rly far away from us... nothingness and no regrets was number name i think? number city had rly good archival practice, and num was incredibly eager to disprove the "wrong" information that i had. cant even learn anyth new these cycles without arguing over it and goading them into it

DD: but from what ive picked up, before high-quality food was largely forbidden amongst most of the cities, some ancients were rly good at... cooking? it was considered art, some even dedicated dozens of their lifetimes to it

SNS: it sounds really interesting!

EP: Nerds.

SNS: i'm not the nerd here! i'd say that that would be Doubt's Dichotomy over there. she's the one who knows all of this.

DD: >:0

DD: i WILL stip talking to you

EP: I wouldn't take a misspelled sentence seriously, if I were Songs of the Negative Sunlight!

DD: YOU TOO, THEN

EP: There, there... No need to get so worked up...

SNS: maybe stop teasing it now?

EP: You're right. Sorry, Doubt's Dichotomy.

DD: its alright!

SNS: either way, hello Echoes of a Paradox! Haven't heard from you in a couple of cycles.

EP: Sorry. Was running a specific iteration of my latest attempt. Probably should have checked in earlier.

SNS: it's alright, don't worry about it!

SNS: did you succeed?

EP: You'd have heard of it by now if I had.

SNS: you're right in that matter, indeed.

FTL: I'd think that a futile try is still better than nothing.

EP: ...Right you are.

SNS: Finely-Tuned Line! haven't heard from you in even longer.

FTL: As always, I have been running various experiments. Nothing exuberantly special or outstanding to report, in any imaginable generally applicable category.

SNS: alright. take a break sometime, maybe?

FTL: I will not be doing so. I am - we are - not designed to take breaks, I will not be doing so. If you apply other thinking to yourself, that is up to you to deal with the consequences. I'll deal with mine.

EP: I'll check in more often, Songs of the Negative Sunlight. Will be leaving for now.

SNS: okay, thank you. stay safe.

FTL: I will be doing the same. That is, exiting for the meantime. No guarantees of consistent reports from me.

SNS: affirmative. you also stay safe.

SNS: ...i suppose i'll be doing the same.

SNS: contact me in any case necessary, that's what i'm here for.

DD: GOT ANOTHER. AN ENVOY TO THE OPEN FIELDS! AND SHES GOING TO TELL ME ABOUT ZIR CITY WILLINGLY!!

DD: fianlly. no one even talks to me anymore in groups unless i use an alias

DD: ...hello?

DD: anyone?

DD: guess ill celebrate on my own.

[bedoballoons]

@cakeboxie !! Sorry you had to wait so long for this but it's just in time for Christmas so I hope you enjoy!! Thank you for joining in on the event and for this request!! I also apologise if there's any kinks in here you don't like! >///<

─⊰⁠⊹ฺ🎄𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤⊰⁠⊹ฺ🎄

{༻~Shhh baby its cold outside~༺}

CW: NSFW! MDNI!! Bottom Male afab reader!! Face f*cking (Wriothesley), Handcuffs (Wriothesley), Hair pulling (Wriothesley), rough s*x (Wriothesley/Neuvillette), double penetration (Neuvillette) fucking the reader dumb (Neuvillette) double d*ck (Neuvillette/Zhongli), riding (Zhongli), and slight mention of spanking (Zhongli)

Names used on the reader: Good boy/baby boy, mon amour, baby, dear

Prompt: The characters find ways to entertain the reader as a blizzard brews outside~

(Includes: Wriothesley, Zhongli, and Neuvillette!)

𑁍༄Wriothesley:

You moaned loudly around Wriothesleys length, tears rolling down your cheeks as it hit the back of your throat again and again, drool running down your chin. Your hair was a mess in his hands, his force pushing your head back onto his cock whenever his thrusts weren't enough. It was rough and paired with the handcuffs that kept your hands behind your back, it was like you were but a toy for him to use.

"F-fuck, keep that pretty mouth sucking baby boy, I'm gonna cum~"

A shiver rolled down your spine as his grip on your locks tightened, groans and grunts spilling out of him louder as your puffy red lips sucked him in. "Mmmnnh!" Was all that could escape you as his cum shot down your throat, white strands licked up by your tongue quickly and a gently kiss to his tip riling him up after he'd just begun to calm down.

"What are you doing hm?"

"Wrio, we are gonna be stuck in here together till the storm ends and I'm still handcuffed...might as well make the most of it..."

𑁍༄Zhongli:

"That's it, good boy~" Zhongli cooed into your ear, his hands guiding you down on his hard lengths as you moaned loudly, tears pricking in the corners of your eyes. You'd never taken both at once before and it was no easy task, even when you started to move it felt like your insides would never be the same. "Zhongli, mnngh! Is s-so much!"

"You're almost there baby, you're doing so good. Let me help~" His breath kissed your neck, teeth grazing the sensitive skin as you frantically nodded. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders as his hands fell down to your hips, carefully moving you up and down on his cocks untill you were able to grind down on him and bounce like you'd always wanted to.

"Better?~"

"Mmnhmmm! O-oh fuck! Ahh!" You tilted your head back, your mind blanking as you rode him faster and faster. His groans were muffled in the crook of your neck and despite fucking yourself into oblivion on his dicks you could still make out his constant praises.

"So tight, mmm feels wonderful my dear~"

𑁍༄Neuvillette:

You grabbed the sheets of the bed, screaming at the top of your lungs as Neuvillette almost split you apart with his double lengths, it felt so good, both of them spreading your pussy to its max. You swore you couldn't even remember how to breath as they pumped in and out of you, mixing up your insides while your tongue hung out and your eyes rolled into the back of your head. "Neuvi-llett-te! A-ahh! Ahn!"

"You're doing so well, taking me so good mon amour~" He lifted your hips, making both his cocks sink deeper into your drooling cunt while you moaned his name impossibly louder for all to hear. The bed was shaking and you could just barely make out his naked body through your dazed eyes, watching both his members fuck you into the mattress. It was mesmerising.

"mmHg! Go-nna! Cum! Cumming! Nhhgh!" Your words weren't even legible and yet his grip on your hips tightened, his cocks twitching inside of you as you came hard around him. He didn't stop moving and god you didn't want him to, "N-neuvillette mmngh! D-dont stop!"

"I won't~"

ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚~Merry Christmas~*⁠.⁠✧

[stale-trash]

Hi, of that's, can I please have yandere Jade x reader who tries to break up with her? (Headcanon). How would Jade react and what would she do in this situation?

I am assuming you mean Jade from Honkai Star Rail. If not, I'm sorry!!

cw: yandere/possessive behavior, very questionable behavior, implied violence, possible ooc

A/N: I have yet to play any of the quests she's in (╥﹏╥). I hope I did her justice!!

Bold of you to even assume you have the option to break-up with her. No matter how you end up in a relationship with her - willing or unwilling - your fate is sealed. 

Jade knows every aspect of her desires, from their depth to their origins. When she sets her mind to something, precious little can get in her way.

How she acquired you determines how she reacts to your ill-advised statement. If you are in a contract with her, she would take some time to remind you of your position - how truly nice you have it.  

It'd start small, like having you organize paperwork in the pawnshop where you'd get a first hand look at Lady Bonajade's dealings. Many desires are laid bare in front of you; some are honorable, others deplorable, and both are equally pondered upon by the lavishly clad woman. It’s hard to understand the logic behind most of the dealings, yet you remembered the time you occupied their positions - the way your desires slipped past your lips to be scrutinized by Lady Bonajade. 

You also get to see what happens to those who step out of line - more specifically, the bureaucratic aftermath. The written records of their punishment, outstanding debt, and next steps are so clinical regardless of the situation. It doesn't matter if they were fighting for their life or attempting to pull a fast one - there was no leeway. 

There was no reason for Jade to drape you in expensive fabric and opulent jewels. There was no reason for Jade to have you by her side doing menial tasks. There was no reason for Jade to suffocate you in her cold embrace and colder favor.

There was no reason for Jade to treat you like a lover. All the contract specified in its convoluted wording was that you're hers to use as she sees fit. 

If you somehow aren't apologizing for your behavior and willingly accepting whatever humiliating punishment she has in mind within a week, Lady Bonajade has no problem pushing you further. 

You'd lose all of her "favor" slowly until you're nothing but another IPC grunt. You won't be in any threat of dying, but there are many things worse than death prowling the cosmos. Don't worry, it won't be anything Jade can't fix given the appropriate price. 

All you need to do is apologize, and beg for her favor once again. Of course, a benevolent woman such as her would be more than willing to reevaluate your contract - though, it is in your interest to note that this is a one-time offer. If you were to repeat this mistake again, the punishment wouldn’t be so light. 

If you aren't in a contract with her, that would change. This relationship wouldn’t just end because you will it. But she'll let you slip from her embrace for now.

Jade is not above dismantling every aspect of your life piece by piece until you come crawling back. You can choose how much is destroyed - your social life, finances, career prospects, or even the lives of your close ones - by walking back into that pawnshop of hers.

She doesn't ask for what you seek nor what you desire - those are irrelevant in the face of her own. No, she asks if you've come back to your senses, a pet name rolling off her lips oh-so-naturally as if she hadn't constructed your downfall.

A contract is placed in front of you, the written words melting together into an indecipherable mess. Her signature was the only legible word in the entire document, with a blank spot ready for your own. 

You may gain everything you've naively wished for many years ago with a few strokes of ink - insurmountable wealth, a lavish lifestyle, and a lack of mundane worries - but gilded chains are still chains.

[merbear25]

hey hi! For the Halloween event can you do america x gn reader, carnival and fortune telling. Thanks! :D

Hello! Thank you for sending in a request for the event. I'm not sure what came over me, but I ended up writing something super fluffy, so I hope you like it! 💜🧡

A night filled with joy and laughter: there couldn’t have been a better way to spend it than with a special someone. The screams from those on the rides filled the air as you two strolled down the colorfully lit sidewalk. A faint glow appeared in the distance, catching your eyes and luring you in for the possible future it wanted to share with you.

CW: SFW, gn!reader, fluffy romance, established relationship

A glimpse at what’s to come (America)

The rain had turned into a light drizzle. Its tapping on the windows could have lulled you to sleep if you allowed it. However, your boyfriend’s constant rummaging through the closet pulled you out of the sleepy state with ease.

“What are you looking for exactly?” You called without bringing your cheek off your palm.

“Oh, just lost track of something…again.” The humph that followed as he continued digging through the mess in the drawers finally brought you away from the window.

“Well, let me help you.”

“No, don’t worry about it,” he waved off your offer with a smile. “Go get ready. The rain is letting up, so I think we can leave soon.”

The crisp autumn air and the lingering scent of rain in the dry air was one of your favorite parts of the season. Changing colors of trees lined your path towards the carnival. Despite the overcast making the day appear gloomy, the leaves were vibrant and your shared laughs were lively, making the day brighter than the sun could ever manage.

With the day setting, the carnival lights danced more prominently, illuminating the newly dark sky in soft rays. Your fingers laced with his as you got closer, knowing that the evening would be a night to remember.

“What’s that?” He pointed to a faint yellow-ish glow off to the side of the main event.

“I’m not sure.”

“Well, let’s go and see then!”

Drawing nearer to the object, the light shined down on the animatronic of an old man with a long curly mustache. In front of him was a display of cards spread out on his little table. The sign had burnt out but was legible. 

“The great Zoltar. Let your future be heard,” you read aloud. “Do you think it still works?”

“There’s only one way to find out,” Alfred chuckled while digging in his pocket for loose change. The coins fell with thuds in the old machine, and soon after a delay the animatronic was brought to life.

“So many want to hear of what will be but so few can handle it. Are you one of those few who can stomach what lies ahead?”

A ticket was spit out from the thin slot. Alfred took it and furrowed his brow at the script.

“Well? What does it say?”

“Looking in the face of fear can promise rewards beyond what money can buy.” A moment standing in front of the eerie machine sent a chill down your spine. Alfred shook his head, unable to decipher what it could be referring to. He took your hand in his again, his smile beaming as you journeyed on the damp leaves towards the main entrance.

Cotton candy shared between the two of you left for sticky, yet tasty pecks on the lips. You watched him toss rings around the bowling pins just barely skillfully enough to win you a stuffed animal, all while a sense of adoration washed over you. That small companion was kept nuzzled in your arms and against your chest as he guided you towards the large metal wheel that appeared to be increasing to unfathomable heights right before your very eyes.

“You know I don’t do well with these.” You tugged at his sleeve in timid protest.

“But the view will be so worth it once we’re at the top!” His eyes sparkled with excitement at having a look at the city from high up on the ferris wheel. Your reservations kept you glued to the pavement, and that look of your nerves eating away at your smile yanked at his heartstrings. He pulled you into his embrace and rested his chin on top of your head. “We don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

A long sigh drew out of you before you pulled away to look at him. “I’ll stomach the height for you but just this once.” You winked.

With a soft kiss being placed on your forehead, you then took your seat on the massive wheel. The metal bar clasped over you, sealing you in as the gentle sway of the contraption made your heart jump into your throat. Your grip tightened on the bar, but the gentle touch of his hand finding yours let it loosen slightly. His fingers laced with yours, pulling your attention to him as the city lights in the distance flickered.

“You were right,” you gestured to the lights behind him. “It’s beautiful from up here.”

“Yeah, it really is.” His tone fell and his words were shaky.

“Don’t tell me you’re the one getting cold feet now.” Your playful teasing didn’t stir much of a response from him. Instead, he reached for something in his pocket. His breath became shallow and a bit faster in pace as he turned towards you. Whatever was in his hand he had a death grip on it.

“I know you hate heights, but this just seemed like the perfect opportunity to ask you.” 

Your heart was pounding so loudly you weren’t sure if you heard his question correctly. ‘Will you marry me?’ left you speechless for a moment. You nodded slowly at first, then excitedly when his nerves settled and were replaced with a warm smile of relief. “Yes, yes, of course!”

Throwing your arms around him, the sway and tilt of the compartment did little to keep you from sealing your agreement with a kiss. The night sky twinkled with colorful lights which danced on your bodies as the ride took you back down to where you previously didn’t want to part, but now the suspension in the air couldn’t be long enough.

[idontknowreallywhy]

Estera - Ch 22 - Assist

Ok, time to find out exactly how squished she got?

Last one of these for a bit as I have to put this story back in its box and focus on that worryingly skeletal secret Santa fic in my notes…

What went before

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

She unthinkingly dived into the road to retrieve the precious device and clutched it to her chest in relief. A squeal of brakes had her looking round just in time to see the bus plough into her and erase her from existence.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

…

That’s probably what would have happened, Estera told herself, as she knelt down to retrieve the crushed phone from behind the front wheel of the bus. She’d done the right thing. She couldn’t have saved it. Even so, she couldn’t help kicking herself. The bus had so nearly stopped in time but then the driver had kindly rolled forwards a few metres to better line up the door with where Estera was standing.

So close and yet…

She dragged herself to her feet and apologised profusely to the driver as she fished around in her bag for a credit card to pay with. Her annual public transport pass was, of course, stored on the phone along with pretty much everything else. Ticket acquired, she threw herself into a seat and curled up, her legs braced against the back of the one in front. She rested her head on her knees and tried to regulate her breathing. This was silly, it was just a thing. An inanimate object. She didn’t get attached to Things.

It was just that this one kind of had her new friend inside it.

The screen was completely shattered, but somehow the phone didn’t appear to be entirely dead - the message was displaying and by tilting it from one side to another she managed to read around the spiderwebbed cracks:

Can confirm that particular meteorological anomaly is also present in London 😮☀️ Also, hi! I’m free for a few hours, did you want to grab that coffee?

A photo was attached but with no touch screen control she couldn’t scroll beyond the top edge to view it… she only had blue sky and a hint of chestnut hair to go on.

Estera methodically tapped on every inch of the screen trying to make something respond but achieved nothing more than embedding a small shard of glass in her fingertip. She hissed and tried to suck it out, dropping her legs down and ticking them under her own seat as someone slipped into the one in front. She couldn’t help but remember the feeling of seeing her message had been read but no reply forthcoming and was filled with dread at what he might interpret her silence to mean.

“No no no no no I can’t mess this up again.” She growled in frustration.

The person in front swivelled round to face her. “Are you ok, Miss?”

It was the labradoodle guy from the beach. She nearly laughed at the irony that it would be the same person she’d hysterically accused Scott of hiring to follow her. His eyes widened as he recognised her and he smiled broadly:

“Oh, hello again!”

She smiled weakly and gestured at her phone “Hi. Sorry, just having a bit of a moment”

“Wow, and I thought mine was a mess.” He showed her a scratched and battered but intact device then held it out towards her “Do you need to call someone? You’re welcome to borrow it.”

A lifeline! She gushed incoherent thanks then paused with her index finger over the call screen. She didn’t know his number, why hadn’t she memorised his number? Because she wasn’t some hapless teenager with a crush that’s why. Nobody does that. Argh.

But wait… she rummaged in her bag for her wallet, hoping against hope she hadn’t thrown it away… Yes! The pet shop loyalty card she’d scribbled the emergency contact number on the back of when Scott dictated it over the phone that night. She’d tucked it back in there after saving the number to her contacts. She’d only needed one more stamp to get 10% off her next shop and with the amount Bez ate… the number was a little smudged, but legible.

Alright here goes. She dialled the number and a surprisingly cheery, singsong voice answered after the first ring:

“Scott Tracy’s Personal Assistant direct line, how may I help you?”

Gosh she sounded young. Must be a recent school leaver. Estera briefly wondered how someone that junior could end up working for the Tracys.

“Hello, is that Dawn?”

“Good afternoon, Estera Hermaszewska, I am indeed Dawn, Scott Tracy’s Personal Assistant.”

“H-how did you know it was me? This isn’t my usual, err, phone?”

There was a slight pause.

“A limited number of people have access to this number. As Scott Tracy’s Personal Assistant I made an educated guess.”

“Oh, well, ah, ok that’s great. Um. So, hello Dawn, thank you for picking up the call. I wondered whether you could get a message to Scott for me?”

“Of course. What is the message you wish me, as Scott Tracy’s Personal Assistant, to relay?”

“Thank you Dawn, he sent me a message but my phone just got broken and so I can’t reply to it and so…”

Frantic xylophone music interrupted mid-sentence and continued for half a minute or so before:

“I have relayed your message.”

“Oh, I err, thank you but I hadn’t quite finished.”

“In my capacity as his Personal Assistant I can certainly relay a second message to Scott Tracy.”

Definitely something unusual going on here. She didn’t sound incredibly experienced. Perhaps a family member? Maybe the poor kid was just working to a clumsily phrased script? Well, either way, Estera wasn’t going to make the girl’s job any harder by asking questions. She tried to keep her message brief:

“Please would you say I’d love to have coffee - I have a… commitment booked for a couple of hours but maybe he could meet me there and we could find a cafe afterwards? The location is…” she gave the details of the clifftop viewpoint carpark where she’d be meeting the rest of the group.

There was a brief pause then the xylophone music returned. Estera looked up at doodle guy and mouthed an apology, he gave a double thumbs up in return.

“I have made further contact and Scott Tracy has asked me to tell you he will be at the location you suggested within 60 minutes. He appears happy at the prospect of the meeting. Would you like me to connect you to his personal comm? Alternatively there are many other Personal Assistant tasks I am amply trained to perform?”

“Oh, thank you, ah no I should probably give this kind person their phone back but I will see him then. Thank you very much Dawn, it was nice to talk to you.”

“I am glad to have spoken with you too, Estera Hermaszewska.”

Estera hung up and breathed a sigh of relief, handing back the phone with a grateful expression. “Thank you so much, you saved me from a bit of a situation there.”

He smiled uncertainly. “He must be someone pretty special?”

“Oh, gosh, no! I mean, yes. He’s fantastic but we’re not… it’s not err… he’s a friend. Just a… an old friend. Well, ‘just’ is the wrong word really. Isn’t everyone special in their own way though? All of us unique and all with our own, err, specialities.”

The guy seemed faintly confused by her incoherent rambling but grinned anyway and put out his hand “I don’t think we ever did the name swapping thing - I’m Dave.”

She hesitantly reached out to shake the offered hand but he suddenly gasped and leapt to his feet.

“That was my stop, sorry!”

And he was gone, hurrying down the aisle.

She shivered and then mentally slapped herself. She really had to stop assuming the worst of friendly people.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

John watched his brother’s face light up as he realised he had a message from the girl… from Estera. Scott smirked and without warning dragged John to his side for a self portrait shot in which John looked aghast and Scott was pulling the kind of deranged face they would more usually expect from Alan or Gordon. He chuckled and began drafting a message. For a few moments John could have spontaneously combusted and it was unlikely his big brother would have noticed.

He had to acknowledge that in all the… Concern… he’d experienced surrounding Scott’s interactions with his new friend, for all his tracking of comms activity, asking EOS to correlate that with his heart rate and sleep data… he hadn’t actually spotted the impact on his brother at all. It wasn’t merely non-negative. He seemed… younger all of a sudden. Lighter. This was what Virgil had seen? John felt an uncharacteristic pang of regret for the usual physical distance between himself and his brothers. It seemed despite his best efforts he was still missing things.

“Scott, surely you’re not sending that picture are you?”

His brother grinned and with a flourish flicked the send button with the back of his index finger.

John groaned “Why would you do that?”

“It’ll make her laugh. I like making her laugh.” The tiniest crease appeared between his brows and a brief flicker of something unreadable passed over his face. Again John found himself both curious and apprehensive about the circumstances in which the two of them had first encountered each other.

It was somewhat ironic that the same person whose reappearance in his life had caused all that pain and confusion should have become a positive influence so quickly. For all Scott’s adamant denial that he had the slightest romantic intention, he was clearly already quite fond of her. John desperately hoped whatever this was going to be, an uncomplicated friendship or… anything else, that it was going to work out. It had to, he thought with grim determination. His breath caught as a memory intruded - his brother collapsed against him on the bedroom floor, sobbing in agony as his fever-ravaged mind tore itself apart. John would never forget the gut wrenching sound of Scott’s grief. He tightened his jaw and glanced over at the same man, now quietly smiling to himself. The universe owed his big brother a break and John would do everything in his power to ensure he got it.

“We’d better head back to Tracy Two and get you down to the Westcountry then. I’ll pop in on Penny and you can let me know when to come and pick you up.”

“I don’t know if she’s free yet. Slow down, Johnny.”

The “don’t call me Johnny” was a reflex of course but John barely knew he was saying it, being too busy reeling from the two words that preceded it. Two words he wasn’t sure the speed demon next to him had ever uttered together before without the word DON’T in front of them.

John looked down at the messaging app displayed on his brother’s comm, the one attaching the awful photograph had been delivered and read so, surely soon…

Scott swiped it closed and drained the rest of his cup. There was a silence as he ran a finger around the edge of the lid almost meditatively then he appeared to shake himself and, in a sudden movement, crushed it and swivelled to face his brother.

“So how’s Penny doing anyway? We’ve not seen her for a while.”

“Hello Scott”

They both jumped as a hologram of a familiar ring of lights popped out of Scott’s comm between them. John recovered first:

“EOS, is there a situation?”

“Oh, hello John. I have been acting as Scott Tracy’s Personal Assistant and I believe I have performed exceptionally.”

John raised an eyebrow at Scott who looked faintly bemused.

“Well done EOS. What did you do, exactly?”

“I received a call from Estera Hermaszewska and recorded a message for you.”

Comprehension dawned in Scott’s eyes followed by a forehead wrinkle of anxiety. Estera’s voice suddenly emerged from his wrist.

“Thank you Dawn, he sent me a message but my phone just got broken and so I can’t reply to it and so…”

It cut off abruptly and EOS disappeared.

“EOS! Wait!” Scott clapped a hand to his forehead and John sighed:

“I knew this was a bad idea.”

“It was you who suggested it, John!”

“That may technically be true but short of you almost dying on live television I didn’t think she’d actually need to use it!”

“Now what?”

“I’ll try to raise EOS again, give me a second.”

Before John could raise his own comm. EOS reappeared and exclaimed excitedly:

“I have a second message for Scott Tracy from Estera Hermaszewska”

“EOS, wait, once you’ve played it would you stay with us so I can send a message back?”

“Of course, Scott.”

They could hear background chatter and then Estera clearing her throat awkwardly before

“Please would you say I’d love to have coffee - I have a… commitment booked for a couple of hours but maybe he could meet me there and we could find a cafe afterwards? The location is…”

John pulled up a map showing the highlighted postcode and Scott squinted at it then beamed

“Looks like about half an hour’s drive from Dunkeswell Airfield. Can you drop me there and I’ll pick up a hire car?”

“Is that the message I should relay, Scott?”

“No! Err no, could you say I’ll be there in about an hour?”

EOS disappeared again.

“Why don’t I just drop you in the field at the top of the cliff there? Last time I checked Tracy Two’s VTOL was working just fine?”

“No. I’d rather drive. I don’t want to use the plane… she doesn’t… it might… I mean…” his brother looked flustered “I don’t want to be all ‘check me out with my private jet’ when she could be with friends or something.”

John took a moment to contemplate what must be the first time in history Scott Carpenter Tracy didn’t want to be associated with an aircraft.

“I just want to keep it low key.”

“Good plan. However, have you considered what you’re wearing?”

Scott looked down at the dark blue three-piece Italian custom-made suit his TI EA had handed him that morning… was it Borrelli this time? John hadn’t been paying enough attention to be sure. As the token younger Tracy in the room it didn’t matter much what he wore, but as CEO, Scott had a certain image to maintain and Jennifer curated his office wardrobe with a somewhat terrifying zeal.

“Do you want to head back to the office and fetch your casual stuff?”

“Nah, someone will spot me and need something, we’ll get stuck there for hours. I left a sweater in Tracy Two, that’ll do.”

“Alright then Prince Charming, your carriage awaits.”

Scott cuffed him round the back of the head. John responded by ruffling his big brother’s perfectly styled hair and running away, chuckling as the man squawked in horror and chased after him.

“You are worse than Gordon, Johnny, I swear!”

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Chapter 23…

[kodared]

Welcome Home Neighbor~ ✨ You and your friends enjoy passing the time exploring old and abandoned places and selling the leftovers for spare cash, but what would happen if things don't go according to plan?

Chapter 1/?

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

You did not like this adventure one bit.

“Oh come on Y/N! What’re ya? Chicken?!”

Your friends Badgered you relentlessly as you all approached the tattered and run-down building. The once brightly coloured sign is now barely legible reading “Playfellow Workshops” In bold letters.

“I don't know guys... This building looks old anyways, I doubt there's anything in there worth taking”

Your eyes scan the shattered windows and brightly coloured “No Trespassing” sign, You don't know how you always get into these situations with your friends. It seemed whenever you were around it was always,

“Hey, I know a good spot to go to!”... or... “C'mon! We can use the money for a new Game!”

Nevertheless, your friends would never try to put you in danger... Right?

…

Yeah, nope they definitely would if it meant you guys could afford the new Nintendo game.

“C'mon, what if there's some vintage film in there? Think of all the possibilities Y/N!”

One of your friends shouted as he pushed you toward the entrance of the building. Your shoes made an imprint into the gravel driveway as you tried to stop yourself from going any closer.

You did not like the look of this place, the energy was off and bad vibes were lingering all around the already busted open wired gate.

However as you looked behind your shoulder, you knew from the looks on all of your friend's faces you weren't getting yourself out of this one.

So, with a heavy sigh, you marched forward past the tattered gates and steeled yourself for what you might find.

As you approached the giant red doors of the Studio, you remembered most places when they are shut down have the door bolted shut from the inside for this exact reason!

A small grin sneaked its way onto your face as you put one hand out and turned your head, ready to tell your friends there was no way to enter the building.

…

Of course, the door had to open flawlessly with a small push. Your small grin disappeared as fast as your friends had, with them nowhere to be found in your sight. They did that a lot though so you pushed forward into the studio.

First and foremost this place was big. It must have had many productions and props for it to be filled to the extent it was.

Boxes and cobwebs littered the concrete floor, a thick layer of dust coated the walls and plaques hung on the walls, the only light source being the dim light provided through the shattered windows.

You wouldn't get far without a flashlight though, as you searched your pockets for your phone your eyes found themselves scanning the walls for a light switch. Your efforts for a light switch proving to be for naught as you finally found your phone and clicked on the light.

Papers littered the floor, some covered with sketches of what you could only assume to be characters, and some with writing and... Was that a contract??

This place seemed to be in a devastating mess, even the concrete flooring felt unstable as you took steps farther into the Studio.

One thing caught your eye regardless, making you trek deeper and deeper to get a better glimpse. It was hard to tell by the dim light coming from your phone, but it seemed to be a Set used for the Characters to interact with.

A bright red house sat in the center of the room, its mechanical eyes shut with rust covering the surface. If the required items were remaining to get it to work, you knew by now there was no hope of restoring it.

You moved on to a farther corner of the warehouse, your curiosity seeming to reach its peak as you saw a door leading to an office. You rolled up your sleeve to wipe the dust from the door, it read

“Directors Office.”

Well… If there were any profitable things to be found you guess they would be in there, reaching for the door handle, it jiggled in your grip. Locked. Of course it was.

Dropping down onto one knee, you began to search your pockets to see if you had anything that would help with breaking into the office. Not very keen on returning to your friends empty-handed.

All you could find though was a wadded-up Five, a broken pin from your school backpack, and a soda tab…

…You considered yourself a very organized person.

Rising to your feet once more, holding the broken pin in your hand you began to try to finagle it into the lock, and by some miracle it... Worked?

You weren't one to doubt your talents but this just felt wrong, the lock should not have opened the door as quickly as it did.

The thought left your mind as you pushed forward, you didn’t want to be in here longer than necessary.

To your dismay, all that you could find were more animation and puppeteering sketches, they looked very intricate and old, with detailing on how to hold the strings for a puppet named Wally Darling and such.

From what you could gather from the scattered documents, this studio used to run a show titled Welcome Home, where the main Puppet named Wally would go and have adventures with his friends.

You ‘wished your adventures didn't always lead to trespassing’ you thought as your eyes landed on a rather cute piece of art containing Wally and his friends.

The designs were cute and simple, it was no wonder the show had its successes, one thought still lingered, why did this place shut down?

You understood the concept of bankruptcy, it was a common theme in your economics class, but this didn't make any sense.

The papers on the desk nonetheless clearly stated a bankruptcy claim, and a lawsuit file, with highlighted words stating there were OSHA violations, and rumours of puppeteers being harmed on the job.

It felt as if your mind was being run in circles the more you examined the papers on the desk,

Until you heard footsteps.

Your breath is caught in your throat. The footsteps sounded like they were coming from the front of the building, recognized by the sounds of glass being stepped on. Of course they had to be coming from the only known entrance to this place.

Your brain quickly jumpstarted back into functioning as adrenaline coursed through your veins. Clicking off your flashlight you picked up what papers you could recognize, At least you wouldn't be empty-handed. Making quick work of them and folding them into your jacket pocket.

Your hair stood up on its neck as the steps rapidly approached. You had that cold feeling running up and down your spine as you scanned the room for any sign of escape.

Other than the main office door of course there was no other way to flee. Your muddied shoes provided you with quieter footsteps as you crept towards the door.

The broken windows allow for minimal light to produce shadows of boxes and various rusted equipment.

One thing remained prominent in your mind, however,

Where were the footsteps coming from?

There was no shadow in the front of the building, yet those menacing footsteps kept crescendoing in your direction.

You had no time to worry about this, you needed to escape, and from the looks of it, this may be your only chance to do so. With a final deep breath, you shot from your previous place of hiding and took off in the direction of the doors.

The dim sunlight from the windows allowed you to avoid various boxes and obstacles in your path, You were not expecting however to feel the eyes of a predator on your back.

You tried your best to ignore it, but your breath proceed to become more laboured and panicked. Feeling as if you were a mouse caught in a glue trap. Your feet feel as heavy as concrete bricks as they hit the floor, where are you even running?

You couldn't tell. You tripped on what seemed to be your own feet, the world spinning around you, and you felt sick. What was going on? You felt panic proceed to grip your very soul as you felt the weak structure crack under your body.

This was not how this was supposed to go.

You wished you just stayed home. You could have minded your business and scrolled on the internet, but no. You had to be nosy and go exploring.

Your breaths became crazed and your eyes glued themselves onto the gray concrete. Not daring to look behind or beside you, in fear of making eye contact with what had frozen you with fear.

…

None of that seemed to matter anymore as the spinning feeling took hold of your brain. You could feel a migraine begin to pierce your eyes making your head throb.

Before you passed out,

you could have sworn the concrete was not this soft.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

~Taking Welcome Home Requests! The full story can be found on my Ao3 ʕ •ᴥ•ʔゝ☆ -

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

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[5fingerpickz]

Ah you don't have anon on so i hope i'm not annoying you but

Would you mind explaining a bit who you managed to make Spot so well??? I've tried visualising the process in my head but the arm parts (where it goes over the page) is kinda messing me up cause i can't see any folds or tape or cuts??? Idk if it makes sense. Feel free to ignore this!!

The bookmark, right? Heh i kinda eyeballed and assumed here and there LEMME GIVE YOU SOME PISC TO HOPEFULLY HELP YOU!! (also im kinda new to tumblr ILL SET UP AN ANON ASAP!!) use pencil for the sketch and outline in pen later once lines are crisp

*front and back of the body are of the same paper *part over the page sticks to the 'front' part

APOLOGIES ABOUT MY HANDWRITING I HOPE ITS STILL LEGIBLE AND I ALSO HOPE THIS HELPED

[neonbodyache]

Heya dear mootie!🐍

I saw that you want to cosplay at a convention next year, what do you want to cosplay?~

Have you cosplayed before and if so what was your favorite one? ✨️

HI SVENN sry this took a while to answer omg i got excited and have a lot to say ok

My DREAM cosplays are locked behind my measurements and top surgery low key bc they involve bodysuits LMAO but spiderman has been my biggest fixation for the last 15 or so years and while ive done a miles morales cosplay in the past i was p pleased with i always layer clothes on top. have dreams of specifically the 70s tv show suit, the amazing spiderman 2 suit (my favorite live action suit), and as visually accurate as possible atsv miles suit

The sleeper agent cosplay that lives forever in my soul is the 42 prowler suit from atsv. There’s SO MUCH technical work that i want to put into it that i get overwhelmed and put it on back burner but whenever i remember i get almost obesssive. I have so many ideas. Actually right before i started dealing with some health issues i began learning from youtube vids how to wire LED light strips and code arduino boards so that the lights can animate in fun colors and soldering properly so that i could animate lights in his bracer claw. Was also building his helmet!I hope to pick it back up sometime but i dont have any space in my room anymore to work on it unfortunately

All my good progress pics are on my old phone but here’s some kinda crappy photos of early in the process lol, idk if they’re really legible. The last shot is messing around w diffusers which was rlly fun too

All that being said, I think the actual cosplay I’m gonna work on for this upcoming con is red from bomb rush cyberfunk bc he’s a lot simpler lol. I also might be going as Len kagamine w my younger sister as Rin (but with a cowboys and aliens twist on the characters) bc shes rlly into Vloid rn and wants to come with me and I’d love to go all out to support her, and tbh theres like 12 different jjba cosplays i wanna do at some point

Other cosplays i have done are akira fudo from devilman, death the kid from soul eater (my fave so far!) gumball from amazing world of gumball which is another i did w my kid sibling as darwin, an obligatory howls moving castle cosplay, and probs a handful more in my middle school years i cant remember so well any more. I’m very much a casual and dont take pics of my finished works or post them anywhere but i just think its a lot of fun to make stuff and go to things dressed up and will take any excuse to do so

[stingyslegslookweird]

A week or so ago, I made a post about Yukari's letter from episode 42 of Kamen Rider Agito, asking if anyone had turned the stylized English it was written in into a font. From what I could find, no one had.

So I did.

Say hello to Limitless Evolution, my first (and so far only) custom font, based off what's more or less the catalyst for the entire plot of the 2001 tokusatsu, Kamen Rider Agito. It's available in both OTF and SVG formats, and I've included the .txt save file for the website I used to make it, in case you want to mess around with that.

left: the screencap from my original post. right: the first paragraph of the letter, typed up in wordpad using the Limitless Evolution font.

And if you're wondering, here's what it says in readable English:

"In the beginning was Theos. Theos divided the light from the darkness, the day from the night, the firmament from the earth, and the land from the sea. Thus the world was finished."

A list of changes I had to make, for those curious:

The letter never uses the letters J, Q, X, and Z, so I had to come up with my own designs for them.

There are no parentheses, mainly because by the time I got to those characters, I couldn't think of any way to make them look good and consistent with the rest of the font.

Idk where else I can mention this but I realized partway through making this that, because all of the characters use straight lines, the Unknown (or whatever entity is responsible for this "language") likely used to write on wax or stone, since straight lines are much easier to legibly write with on those surfaces. Of course, this means there are absolutely no curves anywhere in this font (at least in the custom characters).

You might notice a few re-uses of specific characters here and there in other characters. Had I not done that, I 100% would've gotten burnt out halfway thru and never finished this.

The numerals are obviously not Arabic. I took inspiration from the weird "gang signs" the Unknown do before they commit murder and made the signs for numbers look like fingers on hands. I imagine their counting system works exactly like Arabic/base-10 counting, just with different symbols.

I replaced the tilde with a "does not equal" sign. The tilde sometimes signifies "is approximately equal to", and I figured the Unknown probably wouldn't vibe with that kinda thing.

I was gonna make the @ sign the Agito symbol but I forgor. 💀

The dollar sign ($) is also custom. It's the symbol for G with a line thru it. The Unknown strike me as a culture that would use Gold, plus it looks kinda like a crystal, which they might also perhaps use.

The ampersand (&) and plus (+) use the same symbol. I figured they mean basically the same thing, so why not, y'know? Also I couldn't come up with a good design for it.

I literally just realized as I'm writing this that the lowercase M is only slightly smaller than the capital M, and the lowercase and capital Ns are the same size. My bad. When/If I make an updated version of this, I'll be sure to fix that.

I used the comma in like six different characters. It's not laziness, it's resourcefulness.

Lastly, the greater than (>) and less than (<) symbols are meant to represent people bowing/praying, since I figured the Unknown would probably see it as whichever number was more "powerful". Kinda like the alligator thing but with fighting instead of eating.

So yeah. If you want, you can download the font by clicking its name earlier in this post, or here if you'd prefer:

Lemme know if there's any improvements or adjustments I should make in the next version that may or may not come out some time in the near or distant future. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ idk. Hope you enjoy regardless!

Update: In case you missed it, I released an updated version of the font that adds parentheses, brackets, some diacritics, and other fun things. It, along with the original version are both downloadable from the Google Drive link above (hopefully). I’m still planning on updating it again in the future, so if you have any suggestions or issues you’d like to see fixed in the future, lemme know and I’ll see what I can do.

[butchdiaz]

@dragcnbreak wanted a font post so hiiiiiiii well i literally just tend to use helvetica neue my main bitch. sometimes i will do arial. times new roman if the vibes are there. if im feeling silly and wild i will throw in another fun one. these are some of my current favs!

script

bacalisties (as seen here)

amalfi coast

belove (seen here)

charlotte

birds of paradise

snell roundhand

handwritten

kristina (used here)

evan (cant make this shit up)

oliver (again....)

serif

brand (seen here)

dream orphans

athelas

baskerville

garamond

day roman (seen here)

augusta

seagram tfb

and ofc times new roman

sans serif

akira expanded

aemstel

druk / druk wide

helvetica and arial 4ever

as for choosing what fonts to use/pair, i tend to always try to aim for legibility especially if i'm captioning videos, hence the frequent use of helvetica bc its so simple and easy to read and isn't too intrusive on the video itself! i try to read the vibes of the song and tone of the video, whether it is more serif or sans serif moment, whether some moments of fancier text would help or hurt -- it really varies case to case! if i'm using a font with lots of ornamentation it is almost always paired with helvetica, arial or times, other wise it gets too busy for me. my biggest tip is to try a bunch of things out! even if u won't think they look good! i mess around a LOT with the placement and thickness and tracking (space btwn letters) to customize my fonts to a degree as well. hope that helps fhdhhshs <333

[thomasshelbydrabbles]

Everything's a Negotiation (Part 9/?)

Pairing: Modern!Tommy Shelby x OC, Modern!Alfie Solomons x OC

Warnings: series typical violence, language, sexual situations, possessive behavior, consensual public sexual situations

Summary: While in Lancaster, Mac makes some new discoveries about Hank's actions. They've put her in a spot she'd hoped to avoid, but she won't be without help.

Word Count: 2309

A/N: Let me know if you would like added to the tag list.

As she exited the train station, Mac took a moment to breathe in the northern air as she waited for the cabbie to finish loading the bags. It wasn’t exactly home, but Lancaster would always hold a special place in her heart. She’d rented a condo in the center of town, and as they drove down the hill and into the town center, she remembered chilly nights roaming from pub to pub. One memorable day she saw an interactive play at the Lancaster Castle depicting the Pendle Witch Trials. She still remembered the first time she saw the “hanging corner” just below the drop room. The red-stained stones were said to be permanently bloodstained from the two hundred executions at the castle. Not that everything was blood and death. When the Olympic Torch had come through, she and her best friend had stood outside in the pouring British rain to watch the torch come down the road. They’d been just south of the North Road, near a Costa because Mac had wanted to be close to coffee since they hadn’t been exactly sure how long they’d need to wait. 

Glancing at her watch, she wondered if there’d be enough time to get something to eat before Chris arrived. The Burrow wasn’t that far from where she was staying, and their rack of lamb with a merlot and cherry glaze sounded nearly perfect. She almost hadn’t called him. In fact, she still somewhat regretted calling him because she knew he’d involve himself deeper in her mess than he needed to. The door buzzed before she could make a final decision about dinner. Just as well. She doubted the food would taste like anything to her in her current state. 

“Chris.”

“Fuck.”

Mac wanted to smile at the tone in his voice. She could only imagine how she looked. He pulled her into his arms, and she melted against him. No matter what, Chris always represented home to her. She felt the kiss he pressed to the top of her head and smiled. Softie. Zeus took that moment to greet the one person Mac figured her dog loved more than her. Not that she could blame him. Dutifully, Chris pulled back from her and crouched down to scratch behind Zeus’ ears and receive his kisses. Mac turned back into the house, leaving Chris to corral Zeus. 

“I looked into those companies you asked me about.”

Mac glanced over her shoulder, a frown on her face. “I didn't ask you to do that. I specifically said do nothing except get on a train.”

“It was a long ride,” Chris said with a shrug. “I got bored.”

“I should have used a jammer on your phone.” 

She gestured to the haphazard piles of papers that littered the dining room table. Along the wall were brightly colored post-it notes in groupings of different sizes. Her success or failure in determining cause was clearly denoted by how legible her handwriting was. She’d been told more than once by her assistant Katie that her profession should have come with a lab coat and a doctorate. 

Chris let out a low whistle between his teeth. Zeus sat at his feet, tail wagging excitedly. 

“Here,” Mac tossed a dog treat his way. “Do yourself a favor and don’t whistle again.” 

With a chuckle, Chris tossed the treat to Zeus who snatched it from the air before trotting away to enjoy it. He moved closer to the table, eyes narrowed as he read through her notes. 

“That group there,” he pointed to the garish orange group of post-its. “Some of those names match what I was able to find.” 

With a nod, Mac swept all the other notes from the table. As the papers and notes swirled through the air, they both began to laugh at how ridiculous it looked. Zeus took note, and dutifully began to bark and chase the pieces of colored paper as they floated to the ground. 

“That might have been a bit dramatic.” 

Chris smirked. “It’s been a long day.” 

“It doesn’t add up. Sisal is a legit company; they go back to just after the Second World War,” Mac thought aloud as she reread the notes. 

“A lot of the Blinder’s businesses are legit, too.”

Mac scowled. “This wasn’t on either of their lists.” 

“I don’t think it’s them. They’re too homegrown to have those types of interests in an Italian gaming company.” 

“Alfie said it wasn’t him, and he’s been too brutally honest with me for me to believe he’d start lying about this. Especially when he was the one bringing me the information.” 

“What do you know about the Sabini family?” 

Mac pinched the bridge of her nose. “I’m not exactly familiar with the inner workings of England’s mob operations. Recent developments aside.” 

“You do know someone who does.” 

Mac whirled on Chris. “You can’t be serious. There is no way that you’re even suggesting what I think you might be suggesting.” 

“There’s not a single illegal activity that Thomas Shelby isn’t at least aware of in the whole of the United Kingdom. Man’s too connected.” 

“And how exactly would you know that?” 

Chris slanted her a look. “Don’t fucking insult me. I always look into the men you’re interested in.” 

Mac felt herself blush even as she denied his words. “Not into Thomas fucking Shelby.” 

“‘Course not.” 

Mac swore. She marched into the kitchen and poured herself a G&T.

“What do the British love almost as much as a horse?” 

Mac poked her head around the door jam. “What?” 

Instead of answering her, Chris just rolled his eyes. “You heard me.” 

“Dogs? Soccer? A good pint?” 

“Greyhound racing - nearly as popular, and as profitable as horse racing around the time of the world wars. There was an Italian family that took over most of the greyhound racing - they rose to prominence during the interwar period. In the research you asked me not to do, I came across the Sabini family who ran most of the Greyhound racing. Now, there’s less known about them in modern times because like your man Shelby, they’ve created a host of legitimate businesses to cover up their more profitable illegal operations.”

“The fucking Italian mob is involved in all of this?” Mac asked, a sinking feeling in her stomach. “Damn you Hank, what have you gotten us all into now?” 

“From the information I could gather on the train, Sabini isn’t connected to the Italian Mob. He’s just another sort of gang in London. Local mob, not Cosa Nostra.”

Zeus came to Mac’s side and licked the tips of her fingers. Absently, she reached down to scratch behind his ears. Could she move back to America? Just close shop, give everyone severance and leave it all behind? For a moment, she allowed herself to believe it could  be that easy. That everyone - Hank, Alfie, Tommy - would just let her leave. Until Rodney was found, or out of danger Hank wouldn’t let her leave. Maybe she should have just let Tommy kill him that night in her apartment. Everyone else seemed to make money breaking the law, the least she figured she could do was make her life just a bit easier. 

“That’s only marginally better. It still doesn’t make sense. Why would Hank go to a different mob when it’s his idiotic son’s dealings with the not-quite mob in Birmingham didn’t go as planned?”

“Hank’s not known for his sound decision-making.” 

Mac laughed. 

“He’s desperate, and vindictive. And he knows more about what Rodney the idiotic fuck got himself into. I’m sure this is connected in ways we’re just caught up in.”

“Me. I’m caught. You don’t exist.” 

“Fuck that.” 

“Chris - ”

“No. You’re not facing this alone.” 

“Stubborn bastard.” 

“Your dad called me that a lot.”

Mac smirked. “Where do you think I picked it up? Can’t count the number of times mom would yell at him for swearing in front of me.” 

Chris smiled. “We’ll get this sorted. I give you my word on that.” 

Giving up the pretense of having any sort of manners, Mac pulled the bottle of gin from the cupboard and brought it to the living room. Chris raised an eyebrow, but kept his mouth shut. She figured of all the people in her life, he understood. 

“It might be the old ���the enemy of my enemy is my friend’ thinking. It seems like the sort of shortsighted thinking your uncle is capable of.” 

“Don’t call him that.”

“Sorry.” 

It made sense. She needed a way to confirm it without dipping her fingers further into it. So far Hank didn’t know she’d made the connection. She needed that advantage to last as long as possible. 

“I’m gonna have to make a call I really don’t want to make.” 

“I doubt Thomas will mind helping you.”

She snorted. “It’s not Thomas I’ll be calling. My plan only works if Hank doesn’t know that I know more than he wants me to know. It has to be Alfie. Hank knows about Tommy. Knows, or, well, he thinks he knows about me and Tommy. Or at least, thinks there is a me and Tommy. Alfie is an unknown. As far as Hank is concerned, I’ve never met Alfie Solomons.”

“ Is there a modern gangster in London you don’t know on a first-name basis?”

Mac laughed. “Apparently at least one.” 

“I don’t like the sound of this plan of yours.” 

“Neither do I, but it’s the best of the shitshow I’ve been brought into. What I need, Chris, is insurance. I need you to not exist because you’re my exit strategy. If I bring Alfie into this, if I work for him then I’ll end up working for Tommy because that was always how this was going to end. If - ” Mac paused. “When the boys decide they are bored playing ice, I’ll need a way to ensure I don’t end up collateral damage.”

“You’re worried about this Alfie guy.” 

“He’s the question mark. It’ll be business for him. But, if I’m in the way of business…”

Chris nodded even as his eyes darkened. Mac hated what she was asking, but knew not asking would be worse. The only person in her life who had ever defended her as fiercely as her parents was Chris, and on some memorable occasions in her life, he’d even gone to bat for her against them. 

“I’ll put the phone on speaker if you can promise me you’ll keep your fucking mouth closed no matter what nonsense Alfie says to me. He’s a talker.” 

She knew by the look on his face that he didn’t like it, but she watched as he grit his teeth and nodded. With a deep breath, she returned his nod and pulled her phone from her back pocket. When it began to ring, she turned on the speaker and placed the phone on the table, both staring at it as though it was going to come alive and do a trick. She felt like an idiot being this nervous about a phone call she figured Alfie’d been expecting since he’d bought the train car. 

“‘Ello, pet.” 

“Alfie.” 

“Don’t sound too happy about whatever it is, yeah, that’s got you calling me.”

“Don’t play coy, you know why I’m calling.” 

“Did you research, right, looking into the information ol’ Ollie gathered and I suppose you found something you didn’t like.”

“I traced the company that purchased Thames Security and Clover.” 

“Ollie found something useful then? Purim’s not far off, so I’ll consider this, right, consider Ollie’s found information as a bit of a Purim miracle, right, a goddamned miracle.” 

“Don’t pull out your streamers yet, Alfie. I haven’t told you what I found.” 

“You gonna make me guess, pet?”

“Sabini.” 

For a moment, she wondered if the call disconnected. Just as she went to pick up the phone, she heard Alfie’s deep exhalation. 

“Hank I can handle, but this? This is more than I want to take on, but that choice has been taken away from me. I don’t have the resources to navigate this alone. I need help.” She took another deep breath. “I need your help.” 

“Look, pet. This isn’t the way I wanted us to start doin’ business together, not at all like this. Wanted you to want to work for me, yeah, to want it.”

Mac couldn’t tell if she believed him or not, but she appreciated the sentiment regardless. 

“I don’t want to bring my problems to you. I don’t like involving people in things they don’t need to be involved with, but I don’t know how to get round this one on me own. Hank is making dangerous moves. I need to protect myself from his fucking idiocy.” 

“No apologizin’ from you, pet. Not to me. I brought meself into this, yeah, walked right in the fuckin’ door, both eyes wide open. Now, you give me, right, give me three hours and then we’ll sort this whole mess out.”

“Alfie - ”

“Three hours, pet.” 

He disconnected the call before she could argue further. Not that it would have done her any good, but still. Rude. She hated it when people did that. 

“Gives me time to disappear. Make it look like I was never here.” 

“Chris - ”

“I agree with Alfie,” Chris paused. “Not that I think I like agreeing with him, but no apologies. You’re family, kid.”

“You’re retired.”

He smirked. “Semi.” 

Mac rolled her eyes as Chris pulled her into a hug. She fisted her hands in his shirt, not knowing which emotion to deal with first. As with Tommy’s offer to deal with Rodney, she began to regret turning down Chris’ similar offer with Hank. Somehow, she figured by the time all of this was done, there’d be enough bodies and regret to go around.

Master List

Tag List: @allie131313 @highgardenrosexxx @stevie75 @polishcrazyone  @1nterstellarcha0s

[victorgrwrites]

Higher Than Death | Prologue: Little Dark Age

Prologue of my multichapter Gortash/Durge fic focusing on events pre-game. The prologue happens after the coronation, where Jack (Durge) sneaks into Gortash's office to learn more about Gortash, and maybe himself in the process

Chapter posted below if you do not prefer AO3, and a song for your listening pleasure.

Enver never really knows where he will sleep on any given night in recent months. Joyously gone were the days where he could fall asleep on any cold patch of stone he could find, though it means he insists on having a bed in several key areas.

Moonrise is the bottom of the barrel with the constant howling winds and frigid interior. He prefers the cot in his private workshop over that, even though he rarely makes it there from his workbench. At least it's warm there.

His grandiose room in the temple of Bane is the preferable choice, but tonight he will make do with the four poster in the fortress office. It's comfortable enough, and he doesn't want to miss the arrival of his returned...

Well.

Even he admits he eagerly called him 'favorite assassin'. 'Nearest and dearest'. 'Kings', 'Gods'. He had to wonder if he was too eager at today's coronation, played too much of his hand.

The Bhaalspawn is not the same man Enver knew. Where he would expect to find quiet confidence and a surgeon's dissecting stare pointed toward a stranger, the Archduke found him on flat footing, his eyes desperately flicking about to find the invisible pieces of his mind. Perhaps he was too gentle, but even the faintest glimmer of a possibility to have Jack at his side once more made his heart skip embarrassingly.

Enver's assassin.

His killer, his blade, his daredevil, his audience, his admirer, his candid observer, his confidant, his promised doom. Masochist, sadist, equal.

His equal...

Enver blinks away the jumbled mess of words from his head to find a pool of black ink spreading over half-legible words. With a frustrated huff he sets the quill back in its holder on the writing desk, lifts a small cup-like contraption to set over the ink blot, and clicks a button on the side to suck the errant ink from the parchment.

...Yes, the words too, his mindless confessions erased from the page to return it to pristine parchment.

Better to try to get sleep. With any hope Orin will be too busy bothering Jack to bother with his guards tonight. With a tired groan, he lifts himself out of his chair, dark eyes flicking to the Steel Watch, the only guards left in the room itself once the sun had dipped beyond the ocean's horizon. They were better than any mortal guards anyway.

His firm steps thud from wood steps to stone, moving down the length of the long table and behind the elegant chair sat at the head. Once he rounds the corner where his bed sat, he realizes...

Perhaps he should have kept the guards inside.

Jack sits with his legs out in front of him, one leg bent up, wedged into a corner that was difficult to see from the main room. He has a book, one of *his* memoir notes open to a page, warm eyes flicking quickly along the lines. Speed reading.

Tens of possibilities flew into Enver's mind, each with their own appropriate response. A slight glance down to his gauntlet and, no, it does not resonate. He did not have the last netherstone, though he clearly still had Ketheric's on him.

He should call his Steel Watch. How did they not see, how many books did he have stacked next to him, how long has he been here?

The mild shock on the Banite's face melts into a cool smile, one of his more dangerous expressions. "I thought I had been very clear," he begins, sliding into his usual calm cadence.

"You were," Jack responds simply, as if Enver's statement is a question, his eyes not leaving the book. The deadpan response itches under his skin while tugging at his throat; a tone he's heard many times before.

The Bhaalspawn's voice sounds a touch more gravelly, though the deep tenor remains otherwise intact. Jack had always looked shockingly... plain for being the son of Bhaal. He looked half elven, his black hair streaked with gun metal greys that have started to multiply in the time he has been away.

Jack clearly feels unconcerned when he should be very much so, because Enver is one word away from alerting his guard.

No. He should have patience, control.

"Then why," he turns his hand up, gesturing toward the assassin, "are you here?"

Perhaps more control than that.

Jack's eyes slowly look up from over the top of the book, the rest of his face tipping up a second slower to reveal more grey added to his goatee.

"When I... kill Orin," he rumbles these words softly, his expression shifting from placid to rage filled for only a split moment,"...I will need to make a decision. And I don't have enough information for it."

"And," Enver tips his head, still perturbed that Jack didn't seem to understand that he had threatened his life. "...I? Have this information you need?"

"You know me."

Jack states simply, leaning forward, letting the book fall closed and lowering it onto his thigh, all one easy and flowing movement, his expression becoming almost innocently earnest.

"Don't you?" Just like his movements, Jack's expressions shift strangely fluid on his face; the Banite had seen many different kinds on that face before. He could go from angelically placid to an intensely insectoid curiosity, gleefully bloodthirsty to feral rage, amused snark to heartbreaking melancholy. Jack's face lied as little as he did, and most would be downright disturbed by the sheer range of his truth.

Enver's own expression falls, discarding the mask of dangerous geniality for a more cold but uncertain one, arms crossing across his chest. "...I should kill you."

"You would be right to."

"Would I?"

"If you could catch me," Jack adds with a smirk, arrogance and playfulness on those lips.

The archduke let out a huff as he looks up at the ceiling, lips pursed as he genuinely considers the option.

Clearly Jack was looking for... Enver. Without looking for him. Through his memoir notes and ideological ramblings, the only connection he has to his past that wouldn't kill him immediately. To learn about himself.

His cold eyes come back from the ceiling to meet the Bhaalspawn's warm ones, letting the thoughts in his own mind refine into something verbal, buying himself time with a slow inhale.

"There was a... sort of game we used to play, you and I," he began, uncrossing his arms and stepping closer to the Bhaalspawn nearly at the same time Jack leans forward with earnest and intense curiosity, the cocky attitude all but fleeing.

"We would ask one another questions based purely on conjecture, with little to no context," he continues, his clawed hand gesturing between them.

"If the questions were spot on, then the other had to decide how to answer. What to say in order to find out how the other discovered their information. How much to feed into the other's ego. All while determining what more information to give."

Jack's eyes widened ever so slightly, head tipping an inch and with a slight snap to the movement, a glimmer of that insectoid curiosity. "And... you didn't lie?"

"Only as much as you did."

Jack stared, eyes flicking over Enver as if he were reading the muscles under his face and the pulse in his veins before smiling and smoothly leaning forward. "Alright. Let's play then."

The other man bows his head slightly, turning his hand in offer, "Beginners go first."

Something... too fast to read passes over Jack's eyes before an intense look of concentration took over. Once again he seemed to be looking under Enver's skin to the sinews underneath, though less with an intent to see more of him and more as the parchment to map Jack's own thoughts.

"...When we met, who did I kill?"

He chuckles softly at the question with a shake of his head. Not a good one by Jack's normal standard, but for this new person sitting in his bedroom... not bad. "No one except your butler."

Blinking once in surprise, Bhaal's scion sat back again, waiting for the other's question patiently.

It was a terrible question himself, but Enver had to quell his annoyance if this was going to continue.

"How did you get in," he asks with a touch more force than he intended.

Clearly Jack caught this annoyance and seems to find it amusing, but quickly relents the information. Reaching into his pocket he displays four empty vials held between the knuckles of his right hand. "Your steel watch need to scan for invisibility more often."

He knew the answer the moment the vials came out, rolling his eyes and straightening, "An issue with power output that I do not have the form factor efficiency to solve, yet." In simpler terms, he didn't have room for a larger engine or the means to make a smaller one equally powerful. Another annoyance, like a drop in the sea, but the quick and willing answer calmed the waves. He pauses, then lifts a clawed finger, "One moment."

The chosen of Bane walks back over to the larger, ornate chair just in sight of Jack's perch, wrapping a hand around the arm. A loud, screeching sound echoes around the chamber as Enver drags the chair to the bedroom area. Jack seems... hm. Amused? Exasperated? Delighted? At the action, or the result? He couldn't quite tell.

Either way, with the chair positioned facing Jack, he takes his seat, heel resting on the edge of the chair and one elbow propped on the arm. "Go on," he invites with a turn of his hand.

Jack's back straightens, his feet shifting to press the bottoms together and the sides of his knees flat on the floor in a butterfly like position. No loss of flexibility then.

Jack's question comes quicker this time. "What did my butler do that had annoyed me?"

That question gets a soft chuckle out of him.

[thecommoncurator]

Top 10 2023

cuz I’m a nerd

10. Skinamarink

Ultralowbudget horror that really stuck w me. Architecture as horror.

Hallways that change size. Doors that disappear. Walls that inch closer. A disembodied voice coaxing you to horrific acts. Excited to see where Kyle Edward Ball goes from here!

9. The Holdovers

Newly minted winter holiday classic.

The core trio of Sessa, Giamatti, and Randolph kill it. Lots of faux 70s cinematic flair (complete w grainy mono audio) and a script that plays the familiar coming of age beats with enough cynical bite to keep it from falling into saccharine cliche, & a warmth for its characters that keeps it from falling into despairing melodrama. Just damn good all around!

8. Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse

What hasn’t already been said? Gorgeous animation, a fantastic ensemble of characters, and better action than any superhero movie I’ve seen in quite some time (kinetic, emotionally charged, and LEGIBLE!), w a soundtrack to match. this film takes so much care w its characters - Miles talking to his Mom/Dad, Gwen confronting her Father, Miguel bickering w peter, the downtime w everyone is just as compellingly crafted as the action. 💕

7. Anatomy of a Fall

Juicy French courtroom drama that is ostensibly about whether or not a renown novelist (a perfectly calculated Sandra Hüller) killed her husband, Justine Triet turns her camera’s gaze to a number of intriguing themes - the malleability of memory, the gender politics of the French court system, the existential dread of having the minutiae of one’s most private moments picked apart before a ravenous public’s eyes.

best dog performance in a film ever✨

6. Poor Things

Yorgos, my love, back with his gnarled, prickly sense of sadistic humor & a fully-activated Emma Stone (goddamn!) and THE Mark Ruffalo performance - what a fun prick he is here. The physicality of the absolutely bonkers sets and costuming, coupled with its maximalist approach to untangling the Born-Sexy-Yesterday trope by way of Frankenstein (or Frankenhooker, honestly), this film was an absolute riot and KILLED in a theater. A fascinating aesthetic leap for Lanthimos and a real treat.

5. All Of Us Strangers

A film that, like its protagonist (an achingly tender Andrew Scott) devastatingly grasps for the universal by drilling down into the specifics. Adam spends his time writing, channeling the dead, communing with the grief of his past, searching for an escape hatch from the isolating pits of depression and a lifetime of self-doubts, if only for a fleeting moment,which, once found in the form of a hot mess of a neighbor (a superb Paul Mescal), only reinforces that underlying dread w the all too relatable need to capture it in amber, like plucking a star from the sky and feeding its radiance with your tears, hoping that maybe this time…maybe this time it’ll stick.

Like so many great queer films, this will ruin your day 💕

4. Oppenheimer

Nolan finally cracked the code. I’m not sure how he managed to turn a 3 hour epic about the pettiness, vindictiveness, utter disregard for humanity that the movers and shakers of the U.S. imperialist machine have for us all into a blockbuster event…until I hit play again, and Göransson’s score starts up, and Cillian Murphy’s haunting eyes appear…and it all just, makes sense. A rare film that never lets up and doesn’t suffer for it. It doesn’t hurt that every actor under the sun shows up.

Robert Downey Jr. plays catty soooo well lol.

3. The Zone of Interest

There’s a long-running dialogue in film history revolving around the aesthetics of war films, and whether or not there can ever be a truly “Anti-War” film because, by virtue of being a film with purposeful framing/pacing/blocking, it aestheticizes it, rendering the message moot. I don’t know that Zone of Interest is an ‘Answer’ to that conversation, but it is the most compelling entry in the conversation i’ve yet to see. A horrific film with no violence shown. A building nightmare without catharsis. No aesthetic flourish. Just soul-numbing inhumanity.

What death cries are we tuning out as we go about our day?

2. Killers of the Flower Moon

Martin Scorsese, with rewrites and input from the Osage Nation, takes what was supposed to be a bog standard whodunnit about the founding of the FBI and turns it into a spiritual treatise on the rot at the heart of the American mythos. DiCaprio is at his slimiest here, a fantastic, thankless turn, De Niro is at his most diabolical, but Lily Gladstone steals the show with her radiant aura of a screen presence. This is a 3.5hr film w lots of talking, lots of loud moments, guns and bombs and screeching….but its most powerful moments come from stillness, silence. A glance from afar. The sound of rainfall. The pregnant silence of a confession left unspoken: complicity.

One of Scorsese’s best. 💕

1. Asteroid City

Asteroid City is the best film Wes Anderson has made, and feels almost like a confession, an introspective dive into the why’s of his aesthetic distance from his characters. A 50s television dramatization of a production of a fictional play, the levels of artifice that wrap around these characters keep revealing new facets of their souls to us, their grief, their joy, their quests for meaning.

It’s also got UFOs, atom bombs, laser guns, a fantastic Jason Schwartzman in hot-depressed-dad mode, and folksy musical numbers about aliens! It’s a ton of fun, and a damn fine picture, one that is wrapped in layers of cinematic thrills it slowly unravels to reveal a tender, heart-melting center.💕

[kits-ships]

hi kit! :D how about 🩸for the drabble prompts?

🩸 Patching up a wound

i finally forced myself to write something after four months <3 this is actually how olive and the doctor meet!

its about 452 words more than what a drabble actually is but i hope its at least legible ! thank you for the ask !!

Olive sat, frozen by both fear and pain as a strange man tried to comfort her. She’d never seen him around campus before and was worried that he had ulterior motives, but she was far too tired to question him. She simply watched him with a look of concern on her pallid face as he assessed the messy wound on her shoulder.

“What year is it?” He asked nonchalantly, pulling out random medical supplies from pockets as if he was performing a party trick. Olive weakly shook her head in response, unable to focus on much of anything, let alone how odd of a question that was. Instead, she kept her gaze trained on his rather… interesting outfit. Not only was he wearing far too many layers for such a warm day, but the way they were thrown upon his person was enough to earn a chuckle from the disoriented girl. He raised an eyebrow when he heard her laugh, but his inquisitive look quickly transformed into a reassuring smile. “Is it alright if I clean you up a bit?” The man wondered, still hoping that she’d come to enough to respond. However, Olive simply shrugged at his query- too intrigued by his appearance and too overwhelmed by pain to find the right words. Despite her response, he chose to go ahead and fix her up.

-

As he cleaned her wound, she noticed rather quickly that, on top of being eccentrically dressed, he was a mess of teeth and curls- always offering a sympathetic smile when the brunette hissed from the sting of antiseptic or whimpered as he packed her wound. He also flipped his hair quite often, trying to keep it out of his eyes while he bandaged Olive up. All she could do in return was scrunch her nose or let out another weak laugh each time his curls brushed against her face or tickled her. When he finally pulled away, satisfied by the small bow he’d tied her bandage into, she had a soft smile on her face.

“Thank you.” she murmured, just barely able to focus on keeping eye contact with him. He gave a short laugh at the silly, zoned-out look she was giving him before he rose to his feet and extended his hand to her.

“You’re very welcome!” he chirped, grinning when he felt her smaller hand fall into his. The man then pulled her up to his chest, being sure to hold the girl’s waist in case her knees gave out, and jokingly dusted her off. Olive could feel her cheeks heat up a bit at their closeness, but did her best to ignore how flustered she felt. She then watched as he took a step back, adjusted his scarf and coat, and tilted his head toward her. “I’m the Doctor, by the way.” he announced, shoving his hands into his pockets with a flourish. The brunette bowed her head slightly before straightening herself out.

“And I’m Olive.” she smiled softly. Again, he reached his hand out to her- still smiling at her.

"Shall we go find you some medicine?" He wondered, hoping she’d agree as he, gently wrapped his hand around her smaller one. The woman nodded sleepily.

“We shall.” she hummed, not knowing such a life-changing outcome that two words could become.

(and then i remembered i dont know how to end stories :3 )

[ao3feed-timkon]

oh, you're phenomenal, feel like a domino, fall to my knees; i am a malady, you are my galaxy, my sweet relief

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/lpGcUhD

by syrennetim (littlekittenbigcat)

5 times Kon’s alien quirks made themselves known and confused the hell out of everyone involved, and 1 time they were a little too busy to notice.

OR

if nobody else is gonna write the weird alien quirks fic i want for conner kent, i will.

Words: 747, Chapters: 1/5, Language: English

Fandoms: Batman - All Media Types, Young Justice (Comics)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: Tim Drake, Kon-El | Conner Kent, Bart Allen, Bruce Wayne, Jason Todd

Relationships: Tim Drake/Kon-El | Conner Kent, Clark Kent & Kon-El | Conner Kent, Bart Allen & Tim Drake & Kon-El | Conner Kent

Additional Tags: 5+1 Things, Alien Biology, Kryptonian Biology (DCU), Non-Human Genitalia, porn in the last chapter i swear, Kinda, you'll see - Freeform, Autistic Tim Drake, Autistic Kon-El, aka author is autistic and has no clue how to write allistics, Kon-El has SPD, Kon-El | Conner Kent-centric, kon is head over heels for tim and knows it unfortunately, POV Kon-El | Conner Kent, however will poor kon cope, author switches between conner and kon as names depending on what feels right, The Author Regrets Nothing, author wrote this at 9 pm on a monday in a hyperfixation fever with no beta and hopes its legible, Not Beta Read, why would i show this mess to a beta, my villain tim fic gets 5 betas, this one gets zero, im only telling one of my betas it even exists, Kon-El has Pica

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/lpGcUhD