#li'l pocket

[pollie-pockets]

[softheartscribes]

Ever since I left Christianity about...oh, three years ago?

Christmas has been...

Strange.

A lingering, can't-quite-put-my-finger-on-it, unsureness.

Not welcome.

SURE:

I love the ~aesthetic~.

I love decorating.

And yeah; I knowww it's commercialized.

Buuut??

I was raised in a Christian home.

Sure: there was fun, family, presents, food!

But the core of it was Jesus.

How He "came into the world" as a humble babe to save us.

(Hark! The Herald Angel Sings™️!)

Nowww...

There's no.Jesus.

(Frankly: I'm sick of Jesus.)

Sure, you can divert your focus. (Love. Joy. Light.) That's fine! (You do you, booboo.)

But me...

I'm just...

Not in the mood??

And?

I don't know if I'll ever be in the "mood" again.

[ask-the-totally-real-peppino]

Pep is so freakin cute!!! Decided to doodle him Along with a lil alt outfit. Hope you like it!

(Oh this is so cute and charming! It looks like he's posing for one of those photoshoots hehe!

Thank you so much!!!)

[brionysea]

parker in the 10 li'l grifters job is delightful. she's dressed up as nancy drew. she's laughing at her boys being so cranky about letting sophie dress them up too. she only cares if nate killed someone and didn't tell them, not if nate actually killed someone. "there's something weird about these hallways. the dimensions are off." "wha- huh- the dimensions are off????" (<- actual genius alec hardison who can't see the world the way parker sees it) "do you have that thing with enclosed spaces?" *disappears into the walls* eliot has to adapt to a thief/grifter role and keeps assaulting the guests because parker's too busy exploring the secret corridors to pick pockets. she's having a blast and so am i

[angel-of-the-moons]

Hello hello! I would like to request a Hobie fic if that’s okay! If the concept makes you uncomfortable in any way shape or form I completely understand if you delete this or refuse. But I think the idea of Hobie getting baby fever after babysitting Mayday is so sweet. Him envisioning a little you and him running around with both of your features and he just scoops you up in a kiss, and shyly tells you about how he’s been thinking about how he wants a baby with you (I hope that’s not too uncomfortable or weird or strange!! Thank you for reading and I hope you’re having a good day/evening!!)

Ajsljdldnlsnldnldn this ask got me feral™ Ilysm

The Pitter Patter of Little Feet

Soft!Hobie Brown x Fem!Reader

Because I'm tired of repeating myself: HOBIE IS AGED UP IN THIS FIC

TW/CW: Hobie being a secret softie, baby fever, NSFW, oral Fem! Receiving, punk with a heart of gold spray paint, Peter knowing things™, pregnancy mentions, babies, talk of babies, oh, and Mayday's here, too!

All characters stated in NSFW situations in my fics are all aged up or of age.

MINORS DNI: I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR CONTENT YOU CONSUME

🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸

"Oi, like this." Hobie laughed at the toddler sitting on his chest, staring down at him as he laid on the carpet of he and his girlfriend's shared flat.

"Ho..." He started.

"Hoooo..." Mayday coo'd.

"Bieeee." He smiled, his mouth spread in a wide grin.

"Beeeeeee!" She squealed, clapping her pudgy little hands.

"Now say it: Hobie."

"Hah-buh." Mayday giggled.

"Ah, close enough ya li'le runt!" Hobie laughed, sitting up so Mayday was laying in his lap, tickling her little rolls on her tummy. "Ya lucky you're so cute, kid!"

Mayday grabbed his shirt and pulled herself up, looking at him with a happy smile, her unruly red-brown hair bobbing.

Hobie sighed as he looked down at her, huffing a small chuckle. "I swear, if I--"

"Had one of your own?" Peter B grinned, leaning on the pillar that was in between the kitchen and living room.

"Uh--" Hobie coughed awkwardly. "I wasn't..."

"Hey, man, I'm not surprised Mayday would make you want one of your own." Peter laughed, walking over and scooping up his young daughter.

"My little girl here seems to give people baby fever! Must be her mom's genes or something! Or maybe... Just that cute little face! Om nom nom!" Peter grinned, pretending to nibble on Mayday's cheeks, earning a loud squeal as she kicks and squirms from her father's affections.

Peter chuckled and tucked her safely into the chest harness, smirking at Hobie as he stood.

"You notice how Jess got pregnant not too long after I asked her to watch Mayday? I mean, it could be a coincidence... Or canon event."

Hobie groaned at his word usage, handing Peter the diaper bag. "Ugh, you sound like the ol' stiff at HQ."

"Hey, just making a joke. I gotta compensate for Miguel's lack of humor somehow."

Hobie shoved his hands in his pockets, sighing as he looked off to the side.

Peter put his hand on the taller man's shoulder. "Seriously... Are you thinking about having a baby?"

"I mean..." Hobie struggled, his jaw tensing. "I'd be lyin' if I said I didn't, but..."

"You're not sure you wanna bring it up with your girl?" Peter supplied, Mayday's tiny hand gripping his fingers.

"I mean, Pete, we're not even hitched." Hobie shrugged.

"Not all couples need to be married before having a runt of their own."

"Yeh, yeh..." Hobie sniffed, trying to sound bored.

"All right, I'm heading out. See ya, Hobie. I owe ya one." Peter grinned.

"That ya do, bruv."

🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸

When you came home, Hobie was sitting on the settee by the window, strumming idle notes on his guitar, bobbing his head to a tune only he could hear.

You dropped your purse and keys on the dining table next to the door, and slipped off your shoes.

Slowly, you dragged your feet over to the sofa opposite of the settee Hobie was currently perched on.

"You 'right, luv?" Hobie asked, setting the guitar down and walking over to kneel next to the sofa.

"Work sucked." You groaned into the cushions.

Hobie put his hand around the back of your neck and started to massage the tension there with the pads of his fingers, urging a gentle sigh from you as you turned your head to look at him.

"Better?"

"Very much so."

Hobie grinned at you, and barely gave you a moment before picking you up and swinging you in a circle, earning a shriek and laugh from you.

"Hobie! You shit!" You laugh, slipping your arms around his neck as he set you on your feet, looking up at him with those big gorgeous eyes.

"Had to see you laugh, luv." Hobie said, leaning down to bury his face in your neck, breathing into your perfume. "Laughter is the best medicine, as they say."

You sigh and relax into the embrace, a gentle pause in the conversation.

"Where's Mayday? You said you were watching her for Peter, today."

"He came 'n got her." Hobie mumbled.

"...What's wrong?" You ask, reaching up to flick one of his large fluffy dreads.

".... Nothin'."

"Hobie Brown, it is not nothin'." You say suspiciously, pulling back so he looked you in the eyes. "What's on your mind? You can talk to me, babe."

"Yeah, but..." Hobie looked at the carpet in hesitation.

"Hobie..." You prod.

"I..." Hobie suddenly felt a paralyzing feeling seize his gut. He could face Osborne's oppressive regime with a grin, can of paint, and a middle finger straight up... But this? This topic was...

"Sweetheart." You say, touching his cheek.

"Do y' wanna have a baby?" He blurted.

You blink up at him owlishly.

"What?"

"I... Shit." Hobie groaned, separating from you as he marches back and forth, a hand to his head.

"Hobie--"

"Nah, nah, forget I said anything. I just..." He stood, his back to you, his shoulders slumped defeatedly.

"They'd look good, y'know? If we had a kid. Cute. Your eyes, your smile. That giddy li'le laugh o' yours. I just... Dealing with Mayday feels... I d'nno. I just..."

"Hobie... Are you saying you... You want to have a baby? With me?" You ask softly, touching his shoulder.

"Yeah."

You chew the inside of your cheek, thinking.

Fuck it.

"...All right. We can handle it. I make enough money, we have enough room..." You start rattling off stuff, going into planning mode.

Hobie looked at you, his jaw dropped as you started muttering to yourself. It sounded like you were already four steps ahead, planning out budgets, where to get stuff for a baby, working on a schedule that you can juggle with work after the baby is born...

He felt his head catch in his throat as he watched you put your hand to your chin, a gesture you often made when you were putting serious thought into something.

He grinned widely, grabbing you by the waist and practically tackling you onto the sofa.

"Wha--Hobie! I was thinking!" You protest.

"I know." Hobie says, claiming your mouth in a hungry, heated kiss.

The passion of which he moved robbed you of breath. He pulled your hair out of its confines, rubbing his fingers through the silken strands, the healed callouses on his fingertips finding refuge there among the softness.

When he pulled away, he smirked at you, his dark eyes alight with a spark. A spark you knew well.

A spark that meant Hobie was up to no good.

"H-Hobie--" You gulp.

"Ay, you got me all in a sitch here, yeh?" Hobie grinned. "Can't jus' say all that, look at me with those big eyes and not expect me to wanna..."

His other hand went to your jeans, tugging the button out of the loop and pulling the zipper down, his body slipping off the couch to kneel between your legs, tugging the denim down your hips and tossing the fabric onto the coffee table. He didn't bother with your socks.

He smirked with satisfaction when he saw the damp patch in the lace of your panties.

"Been thinkin' about me, luv?" He hummed, looking up at you. "Work have you that stressed? Need a lil' relief?"

His fingers slid up your bare thighs, teasing the edges of the panties that hugged the plush of your thighs, and you shuddered.

"You... Ugh, I don't know what to do with you." You groaned, dropping your head back, sighing at the ceiling.

"Oh, but I know what to do with you." Hobie purred, pushing the damp fabric aside, blowing a cool puff of air over your damp slit.

You shivered. "You little..."

You wished your voice didn't sound so breathy.

"You always do that! Why--" The moment you looked down and met his eyes, his mouth latched straight onto your clit, growling and sending a wave of vibrations that made your toes curl and a shocked mewl tear from your throat as the piercing in his tongue added extra sensations.

One of Hobie's favorite hobbies was to eat you out. He could sit for hours and do it, licking and kissing until you couldn't feel your limbs from how overstimulated you became.

Your taste was probably the only hard "drug" he could ever imagine getting addicted to.

He licked a broad fat stripe up, then down, bringing his thumb to push against your clit as he delved his almost-too-long tongue into your hole, writhing and pressing, rolling and tugging as your muscles attempt to draw him further.

He pulled his tongue out and licked upwards, pushing not one, but two of his fingers inside of you, curling them upwards as his other hand pressed down on the lowest part of your belly in tandem with each crook of his digits and flick of his tongue.

You writhed, hands going to tug at the bushy dreads on his scalp.

"Hobie--fuck!" You cried out, rolling your hips to meet him, your orgasm already beginning to swell, burning low in your belly.

"Go on, luv. Cum f' me." Hobie growled, pressing his piercing up at your clit, his chin already dripping with your juices.

You whine, a hiccup bubbling out of you as he adds a third finger, thrusting them in and out of you at a pace that had the edges of your vision going fuzzy.

"Hobie!" You cry out, arching your back into him as he fucks you with his tongue and hands, pressing down on your skin to make the sensations more intense; your orgasm cresting and shattering your dam of restraint.

You dropped, limp onto the cushions as Hobie sucked his fingers clean, licking his lips and wiping his chin dry, licking up the remainder of your slick that was still on his face.

"Right, luv. Let's get down to business." He chuckled, climbing over on top of you, hastily unbuckling the belt, tugging his torn jeans down his hips, his boxers going along with, revealing how eager he was for you.

"We can get hitched after the baby is born, yeh?"

Pt: 2: Link

[ryttu3k]

can’t get over how much batstarion resembles a Kitti’s hognose bat, the smallest known bat species and possibly the smallest extant mammal

Oh my god it's so li'l?? Actual Batstarion appears to be a pretty decent size, at least flying fox size, but yeah, otherwise this fits!

Personally, I'm in favour of the Honduran white bats. Particularly, this one <3

"I am the Vampire Ascendant!!"

"Yes, dear. *sticks him in a pocket to prevent him making bad decisions*"

[hitmewithsomebooks]

@jegulus-microfic Jan 31 - lock

Cowboy James

1,333 words

NSFW, briefly explicit

First part Previous part

~

It took James not a minute to snatch Regulus's phone from Sirius's back pocket. As the cowboy had predicted, the bartender didn't even notice. James wasted no time grabbing a giggling Regulus by the waist and leading him out to his truck.

The entire ride, James was playing with Regulus's curls, his thighs, pulling him over for kisses.

"Keep your eyes on the road!" Regulus scolded, but it was only half-hearted, with a tipsy smile. James just smirked, one hand on the wheel, the other on Regulus's thigh.

When they finally arrived at James's house, Regulus sighed, relieved to be able to get some fresh air. James's teasing on top of his alcohol intake had left him a bit flustered. But when he went to open the door, it was locked.

"James." He whined, partly because of the door and partly because the man had begun kissing his neck. The cowboy simply hummed against him, and Regulus huffed.

"Open the door."

James smiled.

"But it's so nice and cozy ‘n here." James murmured, and Regulus groaned.

"C'mon, just open it..." Regulus protested, pushing the cowboy away. He then leaned across James, trying to reach the lock. James blocked him, laughing, grabbing Regulus by the shoulders and positioning himself in the way. Regulus shuffled closer, crawling over the gear shift. He could almost reach the lock, but then James grabbed his wrists and began nuzzling his neck. Regulus faltered, and James took the opportunity to pull the smaller man into his lap, so Regulus was straddling those glorious jean-clad thighs.

"Mmm, ah could get used to this." James's voice rumbled, and Regulus rolled his eyes.

"Not much space in here."

"Don' need that much space, sugar. Ah wanna keep you close, anyhow." James remarked with a kiss, one that made Regulus forget about the truck for a moment. He leaned forward, trailing kisses down the to side of James's neck, where he began sucking and biting. James groaned, letting his head drop back against the seat. Regulus smirked against his skin, giving it one final nip as he reached over and unlocked the door. He was out of the truck in an instant, sprinting to James's front door.

"Oh you li'l shit." Regulus heard as James swung out of the truck, and he threw his head back and laughed. In a flash, James was on the porch in front of Regulus, backing him against the wall. Regulus couldn't contain his smile.

"Seems like quite a big house for just one man." He commented, gesturing to the house they were standing just outside of. James hummed against his neck, flicking his tongue over Regulus's pulse, whose breath stuttered.

"It's my parents' house."

Regulus couldn't help himself.

"Really? A grown man, and you still live with your parents?" He queried, and James narrowed his eyes at him.

"Durin' the summer t' help my pops with the farm, y'little brat." James replied, and Regulus grinned at him.

"Where are they now?"

"Visitin' some fam'ly friends. They won' be back tonight, don' you worry."

"Why would I worry?"

James leaned forward, biting Regulus's neck.

"Fancy li'l brat." He growled, finally backing them to his door and opening it. They stumbled inside, now reattaching their lips in another heated kiss. James pulled back to grab Regulus by the hand and lead him down the hall.

"Are we going to your childhood bedroom?" Regulus questioned, snickering slightly.

"Nah, they turned that into a st’rage space. This 's the guest bedroom." James answered as he swung the door open.

"Oh, and is this better?"

"Yup. Y'know why?"

"Why?" Regulus answered, eyebrow raised.

"Cuz it's gotta bigger bed." James murmured, pulling him into another kiss. They stumbled backward, the door swinging closed behind them, before the backs of James's knees hit into the bed, and he sat. He pulled Regulus right onto his lap, just like their position in the truck. Except this time, Regulus stayed put, and let James mouth at his neck and begin unbuttoning his shirt.

"Goddamn, y' really are sugar. Ah could jus' eat you up." James rumbled, kissing and sucking across Regulus's now bare chest. The younger man sighed, working on James's own shirt. The man paused his own actions, pulling his shirt by the neck and over his head, dislodging his hat. Regulus swiftly plucked it off the bed, placing it atop his own curls. When James looked up, his lips parted, taking in the sight that was Regulus wearing his hat.

"Well fuck me." He murmured, running a thumb along the brim, trailing down to Regulus's lips.

"That is the goal." Regulus hummed against his thumb, smirking. James pressed, shushing Regulus, who simply sucked the thumb into his mouth. Hazel eyes widened, pupils swallowing iris, and James licked his lips.

"Regulus. Can ah fuck you, please?" James groaned, and him saying Regulus's name like that made it even easier to say yes.

From there things progressed quickly, feverishly, clothing thrown haphazardly across the floor and praise whispered into mouths. Regulus was already falling apart as James whispered things like “you’re an angel,” “so good, so gorgeous,” and “baby, please let me.”

Soon Regulus was gasping as he sunk down onto James’s cock, both groaning as he bottomed out. They started off slow, savoring the feeling, James dragging his lips along Regulus’s shoulder, his fingers down his back. Soon they picked up the pace, though, until James was thrusting up into Regulus, the man’s thin fingers buried in James’s curls. James fell over the edge quicker than he’d have liked, the sight of Regulus riding him like a true cowboy, wearing his hat, too hot to handle. Regulus followed him, gasping and pulling James in for bruising kiss, before they collapsed onto the bed, falling asleep sprawled across one another.

*

It was mid-morning when Regulus woke up, blinking as he adjusted to the sunlight streaming in through the windows. He laid on a warm, strong arm, and rolled over to find a still very asleep James. His eyelashes cast pretty shadows on his tanned face, hair splayed across the pillow. Perfect lips parted just slightly, his sculpted chest rose and fell peacefully. After admiring the man for a good minute —or five— Regulus moved to get out of the bed. But strong arms wrapped around his torso, pulling him close again.

"I thought you were asleep." Regulus murmured, amused.

"Half 'sleep." James mumbled, face buried between Regulus's shoulders. Regulus chuckled.

“Ah felt y’ starin’ there, angel.” The cowboy murmured, and Regulus’s smile was giddy.

“And?”

“See anythin’ y’like?”

“Many things.”

James’s grip tightened slightly, nosing along Regulus’s neck fondly, pressed kisses at his nape. Regulus wriggled against him, trying to break free. It was a moot point, though, as the strong arms only tightened around him.

"Don' go..." James whined against him. "Stay here w’th me..."

"Stop talking, it tickles..." Regulus laughed, squirming again in the man's arms. He felt James's grin against his back. Then, a deft tongue darted out, tickling his skin. Regulus let out a little shriek, pushing against the arms keeping him trapped.

"If ya stop tryna leave, ah’ll stop ticklin' ya." James told his back, and Regulus huffed.

"Fine." The younger man groused, rolling his eyes even though the man couldn't see it, settling back against the strong body. The position wasn't exactly something he could complain about. He felt James smile against his back, then feather-light kisses up his spine, making him shiver.

"Wish ah could jus' keep y’locked up 'n my bed fr'ver." James mumbled, nuzzling Regulus's neck.

"That would be kidnapping." Regulus replied, but he settled into James's arms as he said it.

"Would it, now? You don' seem too reluctant to be here, sweet pea." James drawled, smoothing his hand down Regulus's side. The smaller man hummed, leaning into the touch.

"Case in point." James said triumphantly, and Regulus didn't have to look at his face to know he was pleased with himself.

~

Next part

[callsign-songbird]

What's up sinners, back with more horny Ghost thoughts. B']

Thinking about Ghost having a long and hard day. Thinking about him not wanting to do much work, because he's been working all day. He gets home, pours a glass of bourbon, and sits on the couch with his shirt off just for you to see. He hasn't even showed yet, he just got home. And all he wants is a pretty little thing on his lap.

Thinking about him cooing mockingly in your ear, telling you to work for what you want. One calloused hand resting on your hip, guiding you while you slide your slick, puffy folds over the textured pockets on the thigh of his cargo pants. Thinking about his gravely voice and mancurian brogue calling you cute while you hump his leg like pathetic Pup.

Thinking about him putting in none of the effort to get you off, not tonight. He just wants to sit back and enjoy his drink and his show. And God are you entertaining.

"Work a li'l harder lovie, I don't think you really want to cum, do you? 'Atta girl."

[shadofiredragon]

Legends Never Die

{ Hello everyone! Hey look “I LIIIVE!!” I’m so sorry for disappearing. It’s not an uncommon occurrence. I wish it was. I don’t know what’s wrong with me but- I don’t know. I can’t figure out how to fix it. Anyway, thank you so much to @000marie198 for all her help with this story! I hope you all enjoy this next chapter as much as I did! }

( First | Previous | Next )

Part 1 ~ Immortal Escape

Chapter 8 - G.U.N’s Secret File

Tails grinned, one leg swinging off the bike as he turned around to face the owner of the voice that had greeted him.

Tails' eyes landed on the hedgehog standing in the doorway. Blue streaked arms were crossed over his peachy chest, but the relaxed posture and lightly tapping foot betrayed the mobian's good mood. Emerald eyes, so vibrant they could have glowed, flicked over the fox and his bike, undoubtedly looking for some reason to be concerned.

Despite the suspicious glances the blue hedgehog wore a broad grin, almost as big as Tails'.

Finally the hedgehog opened his arms to the fox.

"Come on, three months and you're just gonna sit there?"

Tails laughed, happily sliding off the hover-bike and running into the hedgehog's open arms. For a wonderful moment, when the tan arms wrapped around him in a strong embrace, he felt like a kid again.

Though, it probably helped that he'd subconsciously altered form so that he was shorter than normal, his head resting into the hedgehog's chest.

He felt the arms pull him in tighter, the neon blue marks letting off a soft glow.

"I missed ya, bud."

Tails' four tails wagged behind him.

"I missed you too, Sonic."

The heartfelt moment was broken by a robotic voice echoing from an overhead speaker-

"Yes. Good. We have all missed each other. Now that we have had our tender moment- I would like to see the fruits of our labor and insufferable waiting.”

Tails laughed and pulled away from Sonic, who only chuckled.

"I missed you too, Omega," Tails said.

"I do not see how I could have been missed. I have been in contact with you consistently since your deployment. But, to keep on the proper topic, you still have the files concerning... our friend?"

Tails unzipped a pocket on his leather vest and pulled out the same USB drive from before.

"Yup. Got it here."

Sonic nodded, eyeing the USB as he stepped to the side and gestured for Tails to enter the base. A cocky grin came to his muzzle.

"Well, whaddaya say li'l bro? Wanna go see what G.U.N's hiding?"

Tails smirked, drawing back his powers and reverting closer to his actual physical appearance. His fur took on a more gold hue, and he visibly grew until he was just a hair shorter than Sonic. (Tails had mixed feelings about someday outgrowing his older brother.)

"You know I am." Tails said, walking into the base with swift, confident steps.

He heard Sonic flick the garage lights back off, before speedily following.

The base, or the lair (or the happy place- home of ancients- world's worst prison... all names given depending on Sonic's mood) had originally just been a base during the days of Eggman. It was used by the resistance during the war of Infinite as a place to hide refugees and citizens who were unable to join the fight against Eggman's forces.

Since it was so out of the way and not a good spot for resources, or really anything else, it had been left to rot and decay at the bottom of the ravine. It didn't take long before it's existence was almost completely forgotten, save for a handful of survivor's records kept by what was left of the resistance.

Tails had found the aforementioned records and leapt at the chance of having a secret hideout far away from the rest of the world. With many years of hard work, constant upgrading and personalization, they had finally been able to call the base 'home'. And boy what a home it was.

Plenty of space for the both of them, with a ground floor and an upper floor. The upper floor had a total of five rooms, which had most likely been used for meetings since they were fairly small. But after breaking down a couple walls, Sonic and Tails each had their own bedroom, with plenty of space for personal design choices. Tails with a work bench and a lifted bed. Sonic with his power-free treadmill, which was in constant need of repairs, and a bed carved into the shape of a race-car.

The fifth room was too secluded for it to be part of their reconstruction, so they'd put in the effort to install plumbing for a restroom. It payed off. And now only a short stroll along the catwalk would give them easy access to facilities. And because the room was so large, they were able to fit other amenities in there. Such as a coffee pot. Which Tails greatly appreciated.

Downstairs had undergone much construction as well. There weren't as many walls to tear down, since the lower floor was already a wide open space, most likely designed to combat claustrophobia in refugees and volunteers. But since it had been abandoned, Sonic and Tails had nothing but open space to work with, along with the occasional tipped over cot.

Regardless, Tails had been able to outfit the place with varying amounts of technology and home style. Wires and circuits ran along the walls, transferring power and information throughout the base's interconnected systems. Large speakers were installed strategically so as not to be an eyesore, but could also be heard without blowing out his or Sonic's sensitive hearing.

A giant 'hamster wheel', with multiple wires leading from the stand's underbelly, stood up to the left of the room. A walkway's distance away was Sonic's contributions, including a ping pong table, two old arcade games that Tails rewired for limitless gameplay and two leather couches, along with a dilapidated lazy boy, that faced three giant monitors hanging on the wall to the right. Tails would have loved to take credit for the monitors- but he honestly had no idea how Sonic had found them, and had to content himself with connecting the monitors to the rest of his intricate system.

There was also a coffee table, pushed up to the wall underneath the dark monitors, on which rested a microwave still refusing to die. Tails noted that the jar of microwaveable popcorn next to it was empty.

Past the lounge room were two more rooms. To the left a kitchen and to the right Tails' precious lab/workshop. They did have to tear down the wall separating the two rooms, since they wanted a door connecting them (and really didn't need a kitchen half the size of the lounge). So they pushed in the kitchen wall, added a door, and completely redid the kitchen outlay, making it more homey and less industrial, complete with tile floors and wooden cupboards.

To the right of the kitchen door was another door that, of course, led into Tails' lab. And that was where he and Sonic were headed.

The huge room welcomed him with the familiar scent of oil and the low purr of whirring electronics.

It was the second largest room in the house, but with all the scattered experiments, prototypes, five work tables and an overall mess of tools, it really didn't feel much larger than one of the two bedrooms upstairs. Across from the door he'd come through, and past the mounds of junk, was a large desk outfitted with state of the art computers. Their dark screens and humming circuitry just waiting for him.

He flitted past the mess with practiced ease, even after all these months he still knew where every wing-nut and screw was. Sliding into the swivel chair he did a quick celebratory 180 before coming to a perfect stop facing his beloved computers. A wide grin came on his muzzle as he powered them up.

Sonic, though nimble as a cat by nature, had a little more trouble getting through Tails' mess of a workshop. He reached the fox's side after the kitsune had slid the USB into one of the computer ports and opened up the file inside.

Sonic leaned one hand against the desk, the other fisted against his hip as he smirked at the blue computer screens.

"Alright, li'l bro, do your thing."

Tails smiled up at the screens and the files unfolding before him. It felt good to be surrounded by familiar scents and feel the energizing warmth radiating from his brother again. It seemed like it had been ages since he'd last felt that burn of energy filling the air around him.

Although. He thought, mind wandering back in time a few days. There was that moment in the city...

He shook his head. He'd probably been imagining things. Besides, now wasn't the time to think about that.

He stretched his fingers out in front of him, the knuckles popping and cracking.

"Okay G.U.N." His expert fingers flew effortlessly over the keyboard, his four, long tails swishing absently behind him as he worked. "No more secrets."

~•~•~•~

Sonic tossed a rubber ball up into the air above his head, catching it smoothly when it came back down. He'd found himself a spot on one of Tails' tinkering tables and after sliding a host of metal gizmos out of the way, laid himself down on his back, one hand tucked behind his head. It wasn't terribly comfortable, but it wasn't especially un comfortable either.

No, not uncomfortable.

He tossed the ball. Again he caught it.

Bored.

Bored bored bored. That's what he was.

He'd been so relieved and excited when Tails was finally on his way back home. Sonic finally thought that they'd be able to do something!

But since arriving, the fox hadn't moved from his station at his computer desk. He'd explained that some of G.U.N's older files were encrypted. There was some other mumbo jumbo about how hard it was to access the files, but Sonic couldn't remember all the weird words Tails had said.

So here he was. A hedgehog literally brimming with energy and he had nothing to do but wait for Tails to finish a task already hours in.

Sonic caught the ball again before turning his head to look at his brother's back and the four golden-furred tails twisting absently behind him.

"How much longer?" He asked.

Tails' ear flicked in his direction and he earned a sidelong glance that gave Sonic a very clear message that Tails was immeasurably unamused. However, Sonic got the feeling that the withering look was more on account of the hedgehog helping himself to the table than his pestering question.

Tails turned back to the screen.

"Be patient. It'll be done when it's done."

Sonic sighed, crossing one leg over a propped knee and bouncing the planted foot up and down. Good thing the table was firmly settled, or the rocking motion would've certainly set Tails off. Unfortunately, it didn't help with the incessant tapping.

"Sonic, if you're feeling restless go run on your wheel."

Sonic bit back a bitter scoff, snatching the ball out of the air in an aggressive swipe.

He didn't want to run on the stupid wheel. He wanted to go out and help people! Help his friend. He wanted to do something, something important. The itch to be active was unbearable. So far he'd fought it off by reassuring himself that it wouldn't be long before Tails completed his undercover mission. Then, he'd told himself, he could do something.

But here he was. Still doing nothing.

He didn't realize his foot had begun to tap faster.

"Sonic," Tails sighed, turning his chair around to face the hedgehog, one hand rubbing his forehead. "Go run on your wheel."

Sonic sat up, tossing the rubber ball back and forth between hands, intermittently giving it a squeeze.

"The wheel won't help," he whined.

"I designed it specifically so it would help," Tails pointed out.

Sonic rolled his eyes. "I know that. But this is different! I need to go out. I need to do something about this!"

Tails pointed up at the screen on the desk. There was a page with a gray loading bar, displaying that whatever was being processed was about three quarters of the way done.

"Look, Sonic. It's almost done. Once I have the location we can start working on a breakout plan. And as soon as it's finished I promise you'll be the first to know."

"That is a false assumption. Since I have been integrated into the computer system I would be the first to be alerted to the decryption." The familiar robotic voice came from a speaker somewhere above them out of sight.

Tails pinched the bridge of his snout. "Yes. Thank you for correcting me, Omega."

"The second to be alerted would most likely be the kitsune. Since he is at his station and would first see the notification that the task had been completed."

"Thank you, Omega," Tails sighed.

"That would mean that the hedgehog would be the third and last of our party to be alerted."

"Omega! Thank you for clarifying- but I don't think it's necessary to continue to elaborate."

"Noted. I simply did not wish for our friend to be misinformed."

Sonic snickered, "Thanks, pal. But I think Tails meant it figuratively."

"Ah. This strange form of sarcasm you organics often use. I shall store this as another example of figurative speech."

Sonic gave the ceiling a thumbs up. "Good idea."

The conversation had helped to ease the restlessness in his chest. But now that it was over, Sonic could quickly feel it coming back to him and he couldn't stop his foot from tapping once again.

"Sonic, go run on the wheel." Tails commanded, crossing his arms.

"Since when do you tell me what to do?" Sonic protested, squeezing the ball in one hand and crossing his own arms. The blue stripes glowed indignantly.

"Since you stopped listening to reason."

An electric sound, comparable to a robotic laugh, sounded from the speakers.

"Sonic the hedgehog? Reason?"

Tails chuckled and Sonic smiled at the sound.

"Fair enough," the kitsune said, still smiling. "All the same, I can't stand you sitting over there driving the both of us crazy with your constant nervous fiddling." He waved one hand towards the lab exit as he spun back towards the computer. "So please, please, go take it out on the wheel."

Sonic sighed but obediently slid off the table and walked towards the living room, waving half-heartedly to the fox.

"Fine, fine. But the moment that thing is done you'll come tell me?"

Tails nodded with an assuring, "Mm-hmm."

"I will attempt to make you the second sentient being in this facility to be alerted."

Sonic chuckled, tossing the ball into the air again as he exited the lab.

"Thanks big guy."

"You are welcome."

Sonic tossed the rubber ball over the back of a couch, his sharp ears hearing a cushioned 'thud' when it landed.

Fists on his hips, he parked himself in front of the giant steel wheel, looking the contraption up and down as if challenging it. With a disgruntled grunt he bent over and began his routine stretches. Even the immortal super-sonic hedgehog found wisdom in warming up his muscles before exercising them.

"Sonic?" Omega's voice sounded from the wall directly next to the running wheel. Tails had installed an easy-to-access communication system there when he'd first built the wheel, just in case.

Sonic stretched an arm over his head. "Yeah, 'Mega?"

"When the encrypted files have been cracked..."

The robotic voice paused, piquing Sonic's curiosity.

"When the files have been cracked..?" He goaded, grabbing an ankle and pulling it behind him.

"Do you think that we will then know his location?"

Sonic chuckled, hopping up and down to loosen up. "I mean, that's kinda been the whole point."

"I am aware. But..."

Sonic jogged in place, a flicker of excitement lighting in his chest at the movement. "But what? We'll finally be getting him back and hopefully be putting G.U.N back in their place at the same time."

"Yes. But I am... Wary?"

"Of what?" Sonic asked, stepping into the steel contraption and beginning to turn the wheel at an easy walk, "You worried we're gonna be gettin' in over our heads? Cuz trust me there's no need to worry about that. Between Tails' genius and my skills, we'll be makin' it look easy."

"It is not yours or the fox's capabilities that I am concerned about..."

Sonic sped up to a light jog, the wheel spinning soundlessly around him. Machinery hummed beneath the wheel as it turned faster.

"C'mon, 'Mega, spit it out. You know I'm not one to beat around the bush."

"Very well. I must ask that you do not try to lie or fool me on this hedgehog... I am aware of what my- history - entails... do you think... It is a wise course of action to have me be a part of this mission? Considering... my... history..?"

Sonic slowed down a little, his brow furrowing.

"Omega- are you worried about him seeing you again..?"

A static sound. "Invalid conclusion. It would be impossible for anyone to be able to see me in this state. Considering I no longer possess a physical body-"

"Omega," Sonic interrupted, voice stern, "Don't avoid the question." Sonic sped up, only because he knew he needed to release more energy. "Are you worried about meeting him again?"

A pause that lasted far too long.

Sonic sighed. "If you don't want to answer me then fine. But I will tell you this-" he pushed himself to run faster. "Both me and Tails are here for you. You're family. And family doesn't turn their backs on one another."

"You and Tails are... Different. It is not for you to be offended by what I have done."

Sonic rolled his eyes.

"Omega, you need to put more faith in our friend. If your roles were swapped, would you be forgiving?"

"I do not know...”

Sonic was quiet at that. The wheel soundlessly turned around him as he pushed 200 miles per hour. At these higher speeds he began to feel the energy draining from his body, pulled into the machinery below him. He shook his head, dismissing the unnerving feeling with practiced ease.

"Well, that sounds like something you need to work on." Sonic huffed. "But I honestly think you're overreacting."

Another pause.

"Sonic... I-"

" It's done! "

Sonic's head jerked towards Tails' excited voice. The Kitsune ran out of his lab with several papers, most likely printed from his computer, in his hands. His tails wagged in excitement behind him as he held out the papers to be viewed.

"We've finally done it! We have complete access to G.U.N's file!"

Excitement sparked alive in Sonic's chest and he leapt off the wheel mid-stride, leaving it to spin behind him as he darted to Tails' side.

"And what'd you find?! What'd you find?!" He asked eagerly, peering over the Kitsune's shoulder at the papers.

Tails grinned up at his older brother.

"What we've been looking for all this time! The location of Project Shadow!"

( First | Previous | Next )

[squarebracketsmileyface]

hot take, Brian is 100% the type that knows damn well he has power over people because of dat southern accent, so he uses it to get his way constantly. he LOVES flustering Tim and/or Jark by sweet-talking them, calling them pet names like darlin' or sugar bum (a term in which Brian Haight jestingly called Tim Sutton during one of Tim's MH Watch-A-Long streams back in 2020) and complimenting them to the point that they just turn to putty in his hands lmao. i can see Tim or Jark having a bad dysphoria day, when here comes Brian crooning that they're the most handsome man/most beautiful woman in the whole world, and Tim or Jark just get almost high from the love.

MOST IMPORTANTLY TO ME, though, is thinkin about Brian sweet-talking to the kids as well - NOT THE SAME WAY HE DOES TO HIS PARTNERS OBVIOUSLY, but i love the idea of him saying something like 'hey, pretty girl' to Birdie in the mornings when she gets out of bed, or him calling Jesse 'my sweet li'l man' (i know there's a stigma with the term li'l man but damn it it's sweet to me so fuck it). and the kids get all giggly and shy because it makes them feel so loved and special aaaa

don't get me wrong, Jark and Tim are loving and sweet to the kids and are both mushy-gushy as well, but in my mind's eye, Brian is just the KING of soppyness. he is the one that's always on the hunt to find opportunities to give them kisses and cuddles, or even just hold their hand. i know you've mentioned he's the stern parent between himself and Tim, the one that lays down the boundaries and upholds them, but at the end of the day they're still his babies, so you best bet that the kiddos will still come to him for cuddles on the couch before bed <3

SORRY THIS GOT LONG but loving Bubba Brian makes me go brrrrrr

Omg yes yes yes

I don't know what it is about Brian, maybe it's something to do with the fact that Hoodie never speaks out loud, but I love the idea of him being a sweet talker, having a silver tongue, having a voice people absolutely fawn over.

He definitely uses it against his partners, whether that's to fluster them and see them go red in the cheeks or to get something he wants. He never hesitates to whip out that pretty accent and a smattering of petnames and terms of endearment because it always works like a charm. I think his favourite thing to do is throughout a day just keep making the petnames he's using more and more ridiculous but always using the same exact tone, so he'll go from 'baby' to 'sugar bum' to 'schnookum wookums' to whatever the fuck else he can come up with. He likes to see them almost go to be all "awww 🤭" before they catch onto what he actually said and go through all five stages of grief before threatening to divorce him.

He'd definitely use it to help on dysphoria days too. Idk something about him putting on a bit of a thicker southern accent to compliment them how they need it just makes them feel even more at home in their skin and like they're being perceived how they want to be than the same compliments in any other accent. He comes up with the best compliments too, like ones that are so weirdly specific they make Tim/Jark laugh while also settling nicely into their brains like "the way I nod my head along to music is so feminine? 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰" Or "my thumbnails are a really masculine shape? 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰" And the thing is is that when they've tried to figure out if Brian's just saying shit, they always find out he's not. He has the perfect, personalised explanation all ready for them like he's been thinking about it for weeks.

And with Birdie?? Yea :}

That girl grows up knowing she's the smartest, prettiest, more interesting and brave and amazing kid in the world. Brian makes it a point to compliment something interesting or special about her/that she's done every single day and Tim and Jark pick it up too after not long. Brian leaves little notes in her lunch box, under her pillow, in her clothes pockets, under her toys and games, for her to find. He's also an absolute fucking menace because he and Birdie will gang up on the other two, and Birdie will whisper in his ear what she wants, and he'll use his best puppydog eyes and prettiest of pleases to get her what she wants. If Jark and Tim are managing to hold their ground (not on big things, but "five more minutes?" And "can I have one more spoon of ice-cream?" Stuff like that that Brian knows Tim and Jark don't actually mind about)

And once Jesse's in the mix? Yeah Tim and Jark stand no fuckin chance. If they wanna stop the kids getting their way they'll have to find a way to take Brian out. Jesse mimics Brian too, especially when he's learning to speak. So you have Brian already being insanely sweet in that pretty voice of his, then a tiny little baby trying to do the same. It's the cutest fucking thing and Tim and Jark die every fucking time, because baby babble with a little bit of a southern accent? Fucking adorable, literally the cutest thing in the world.

Also Brian reading the kids bedtime stories.

Tim stands leaning against the doorway while Brian has birdie in his lap and Jesse in her lap, all leaning precariously on each other while he tries not to drop his book and lose their page. Usually he has to read from kids encyclopaedias, because both those kids are autistic and love insects and lizards. (And also because when I was little my mum also had to read me encyclopaedias for my bedtime stories 💀)

Tim and Jark are so fucking baffled and in love. Like "look at our weird fucking kids 🥹 they're so strange and we love them so much."

Also there's stigma around lil man?? It's such a cute name for a kid cos like, look, over there, that really is a little man, a little lady. Especially with the way kids like to pretend to be all big and grown us and serious sometimes. Like yeah, that's a little man right there dressing up in his dad's clothes and constantly walking out of shoes that are a million sizes too big for him, a right little gentleman look at him go

[knightofwounds]

Tournament

For @adelarsims event.

Okay, I didn't bring the guy first, like was planned, but I still took the leap of faith as recommended. So, after silent first year in the community I am ready to introduce the two young participants of the tournament.

Is she li'l or is he tall? Yes.

Although… Miss Gemma Charm needs no introduction. The youngest daughter of the Charm family, an ancient magical lineage, she is set to make her 16th birthday debut at this year's magical tournament.

Traits: Goofball, Art Lover (+Creative and Perfectionist with mod). Aspiration: Spellcraft & Sorcery (in this family she had no choice, to be honest). Skills: Charisma, Comedy, Logic, Mischief, Painting. Likes (in the game process): Pranks, painting, comedy, new age, argumentative sims, silly behavior. Dislikes: Fitness, egoistical sims.

Her mother Minerva Charm is a powerful and respected witch, her brother Darrell is a famous duelist, she herself has been reminded of who she is almost every day since childhood - all of this is definitely exerting some pressure on the young witch, especially now. Oh, the status obliges.

It's no wonder that behind her carefree facade, Gemma is secretly afraid of not living up to the high expectations of her family and the magical community.

And perhaps the big event would have been an equally grandiose nervous breakdown and she would have given up before it even began if it wasn’t for Glenn O'Malley.

Gemma's stubborn and unpredictable school friend simply stated: "It's dangerous to go alone, take this! And by “this”, I mean “me”. Eh, shut up, Gem, that's not a suggestion, but a declaration."

Traits: Mean, Erratic (+Hot-headed and Loyal with mod). Aspiration: Renaissance Sim. Skills: Dancing, Writing, Painting, Mischief, Fitness. Likes: Red color, funny sims, writing, dancing, gemology, potty humor. Dislikes: Complains, physical intimacy, discussing hobbies, ginger hair (yeah, actually his own hater #1).

You might be a tough street guy, who dare not be teased for an old-fashioned name or anything else, but if your friend wants an one paired outfit for an important event and gain access to your face with her questionable makeup skills… okay then. But just one!

But who the hell is he and what happened?

To be honest, he wasn't even a spellcaster until recently: just a rather unpleasant person who, nonetheless, cared deeply for his small circle of people important to him.

And Glenn got used to the fact that usually in their duo, he was the always annoyed (and annoying) creature with a short temper, but not Gemma. And this time it was hard for him to say "okay, keep your little secrets."

Of course, his friend always had some weird secrets, but she never was so tense and blue because of it. And it was going on for a while, so…

He was smart enough to put together a certain number of details into a whole picture and crazy enough not to try and rationalize the strange result, but just to test the theory.

And a month before the tournament, he met Gemma in the magical dimension with the words "don't you want to tell me something at least now, girl?"

Does Glenn have decent magical skills? Not yet.

Does he have decent physical form and the ability to improvise and adapt skills from one area of ​​knowledge to an unrelated one, compensating for his lack of experience or tools, without worrying about how strange or contradictory it looks? Hell yes.

A guy with the behavior of a delinquent and dirty mouth of a sailor but the cultural background of artsy kid and vocabulary of a poet, he once applied his many years of dancing experience to the football field (also for another favorite person btw), developing unexpected tactics to deal with his opponents.

What will he come up with for magic? Who knows.

Anyway, now it's not so scary to be ashamed together, right? Maybe two Neophytes with a couple of entry-level spells, a pack of cheap cigarettes, creative brains and pockets full of love for shenanigans won't win, but now it's going to be a fun adventure.

(At least for them: this duo of unruly teens can’t vouch for those who meet on their way, oops).

[quotidian-oblivion]

Of course, fellow evil tim drake au writer

It's a series actually. And I've planned the whole series out, but not the fics in it or even how many fics are there in it. But the name of the series is:

Found Him

Because by the end, the Bats might just have found the real Tim Drake.

I'm reading the outlines for my evil Tim Drake AU and I am SCREECHING.

[careless-with-your-heart]

Yes, yes, reposting the same GIF twice in a row - BUT BUT BUT hear me out. What the fuck is in Blaine's li'l filing system on the wall behind him? I am hyperventilating at the thought of him filing shit in a little wall pocket.

"Did you murder that guy I told you to? Yeah? Good. Now fork over your lunch receipt or no per diem reimbursement. Yeah. Second folder from the top."

[dollsonmain]

Ok I'm going to explode if I don't talk about the big batch of unfortunate ponies that are on their way in for an emergency cleaning.

I am so excited and happy and grateful that I get a chance to clean them up because I'd never get to see many of these ponies in person otherwise since they're too pricey for me to buy.

I'll put it behind a cut, though, so their owner can choose whether or not to view my preliminary assessments which are based on the sales photos.

So, these were an expensive eBay lot with a lot of rare ponies in it which was an excellent price for all of them together. When they arrived to their buyer, it was discovered that they absolutely reek of mildew/mold. That's extremely disappointing.

They got packed right back up and are already on their way here.

Normally, boxes of ponies coming from there say they'll take a week and a half or so then suddenly appear after a couple days. I don't think that's going to happen this time, being Giftmas.

I had linked to the sale a while back but I didn't look super close at the pictures because there was no way I was going to be bidding, until today. They certainly LOOK stinky.

Mildew stink is easier to remove than smoke, regardless of whether it's cigarette smoke or whatever my Wave Runner smells of (it smells like she was in a house fire). Mildew stops stinking for the most part once it's all dead, and it's all certainly going to be very dead when I'm done with these ponies.

I have an ozone generator which will help if the bad smell doesn't wash off sufficiently. They can also be treated like rustbutts and given an oxyclean soak inside and out though that's rough on the hair so not my first choice. I may also get that UVC lamp and add it to the SunBox which is good for killing off mold and mildew. Then it's a question of how efficiently I remove it all from the vinyl, or how deeply the scent has gotten into said vinyl.

I'm both feeling optimistic and wary of that optimism. I don't want to get my own hopes up. Gotta keep that shit realistic.

If everyone got wet enough to mold, I don't think Talk-a-Lot is going to be functional. Hopefully she doesn't have batteries corroding in there. If that stuff on her face comes off, though, she'll at least be good for display. She looks very bright and fresh, otherwise.

Look at that scrungy hair on Merry Treat. hohoho bitch I am so excited. She also has some yellow on her face that will hopefully wash off. If it doesn't, yellow does cooperate pretty well with hydrogen peroxide and the SunBox.

I can already see that Mommy has unstable vinyl. That's a shame. Mommy and Baby are Euro exclusive IIRC, and difficult to get, here.

I'm not sure those dark spots on Baby aren't stains. I hope not, but it kind of looks like marker eyeliner.

These little pearlized babies are downright disgusting... Poor things. The pearl paint is surprisingly not as difficult to clean as I'd feared when the first ones showed up, what was it last year? It can withstand a gentle melamine sponging just as well as the cutie mark and eye paint. I also have a matching pearl paint to help with patching in where needed, though I don't have any semi-gloss sealant so any patched areas would rub off again rather easily. Good enough for display. I am rather confident they will turn out just fine.

Look at that knotted up wad of tail tinsel. (❁´◡`❁) I can't WAIT to make that all smooth and pretty again. Hopefully the stuff on her will come off... I can't tell if she has all of her hair and there were no photos of her other side. It looks like it might be shorter, but that can be caused by being matted, too. Fingers crossed it's all there.

Even with a haircut, Rapunzel's resale value is preposterous, which is why I will never own one.

There's some yellow grime on Birthday Pony and Firefly. I'm wary. It will either wipe right off or is stained. No way to know until I start cleaning.

There are no photos of the other side of Li'l Pocket. I wonder if she has her piggy bank and coin, still.

There's a little Remco donkey in there! I was wanting to see one, and now I don't have to buy one to get to.

Swirly Whirly.... I can't tell if the grime is ON her or IN her. She does seem to have shadowing in thinner areas but that can be both caused by dark mildew inside the body and just the fact that it's thinner, there, and there's a bit of a shadow inside. I won't know until I crack her open. When there's dirt stuck in the rooting holes like that, in my experience, it's coming from inside the body. Which is not a problem.

Her horrible hair texture excites me.

I have seen a few Glow n Shows go opaque even more than Starglow there... No idea what causes it. Happyglow in this same batch seems fine.

Someday I want to have some Glow n Shows.

I expect this to be stains. When it's been little round blooms like that, it's generally stained. I hope I'm proven wrong. She has her key, which is EXCITE.

There have been times where I've picked up a pony that looked like they had blooms and I didn't think they'd come off, and they wiped off no problem.

I actually have this one. She's my only remaining childhood pony. My Secret Beauty's key is long gone, though, and her saddle can barely stay latched anymore. The spring for the latch is worn out. She also has an ink stain on her cheek.

.... I don't even know. The listing doesn't say what this dog is.

[justanotherblonde]

it's sasodei week 2024!

i have precisely one thing to contribute, but ffs it's not done yet grr!! maybe we can blame my dog... she demanded i come play with her no less than nine times (i kept track) as i wrote this post (she does this by shouting at me then humping my leg to show me who's boss, sometimes pulling on my sweater sleeve with her sharp li'l teefs, beagles, man, i tell ya...) 🐶

anyway!! here's a TEASER of my Day 3 Band/Rockstar/Idol AU story ahhhhh!!! it's not even titled yet!!!!! i don't even really know what the tags will be! and i haven't had time to make a header image!! 😫

but this i know, oh this i know:

Sasori is first chair cello of the Sunagakure Philharmonic

He has a dirty little secret hobby: listening to metal (among other genres that are definitely not classical)

One of the bands he listens to is called C4

Guess who's the lead singer???

Yes, you guessed it, it's Deidara, singer/song-writer, perhaps much more...

In this AU, everybody lives!! Well... okay fine, Sasori's parents still didn't make it, i'm sorry

But that means two important things: Third Kazekage is alive! And there are a LOT of Uchiha running around.

There's more, a lot more, but you'll have to wait until i steal more minutes and hours from my dog and my work! but i'll give it to ya, come hell or high water! or wildfires, earthquakes, debilitating PM 2.5 ratings, or uh... dare i say... another pandemic??? FEAR NOT!

if you want to wait for the full thing to drop to read, i've left the teaser excerpt below the cut.

a million thanks to @sasodeiweek for hosting this event and encouraging us SasoDei creators to flex our creative muscles! loving all the contributions so far!

and without further ado...

Rehearsal ran circles round Sasori’s ears. The music followed him always, all hours.

Chapter 1

Rehearsal ran circles round Sasori’s ears. The music followed him always, all hours.

The fine, agile fingers of his left hand twitched; his right hand swayed side to side, marking the strokes of his bow. Eyes half-closed, his feet kept time on the pavement as he walked. It was Haydn this week, Cello Concerto No. 1 in C major. A weighty yet familiar responsibility for Sasori, first chair cello of the Sunagakure Philharmonic.

He sighed. Rehearsal had wrapped half an hour ago. He was on his way home, and tomorrow was a rest day. He didn’t need to torture himself like this. 

The headphones around his neck were a comforting weight, as friendly and intimate as the straps of his cello case on his shoulders. He flipped them over his ears and dug in his coat pocket for his phone. Scrolling through the saved playlists on his music app, he skipped all of the classical “homework” and went straight for his guilty pleasures: dance-pop, glam-rock, musicals… and heavy metal. 

No one at work knew about his low, low tastes.

Well, the Third had known. 

Sasori gritted his teeth, biting back unbidden memories. Now he definitely needed to blast his brain clean with some noise. 

Something heavy.

Something loud.

Something to transport him far away from the sand-scraped streets of Sunagakure.

His thumb landed on the album he was looking for.

Art is an EXPLOSION by C4. Track 1: “Light It Up.”

From that first haunting guitar chord, the tension Sasori held in his chest and face dispersed. He rode that twisting whine down, down… someplace dark and cool, far beneath the earth. As the barreling drums built to a crescendo, he held his breath—wait for it!—

A million years, through timeless stone I’m damned to walk this path alone This darkness, all I’ve ever known…

The lead singer had a deep, melodic voice. He molded each word of the verse carefully, tenderly, as if he were embarking on a ballad… then WHAM!

Cymbals crashed; the roaring chorus caught the last two notes of an electrifying riff like a surfer hopping a wave:

Light it up! Hey, light it up! Strike a match and light it up! My fuse is short, ’m ready to blow, Crush the ceiling down to the floor!

Not in a million years would Sasori admit out loud to anyone that he listened to C4, especially not now that the public were actually aware of their existence. The metal band had catapulted to fame last year with their single “Burn Down All the Discos,” but Sasori had been listening to them well before that. Three years ago, his music app had recommended him a track from Art is an EXPLOSION—C4’s debut album—based on his eclectic streaming history. 

If the first song Sasori had heard by C4 had been anything but “Artist,” he’d probably never have given them a chance: their usual sound was, on the surface, sloppy, and most of the lyrics were childish boasts. “Look at me!” their vocalist seemed to say in every song. 

But “Artist” was different. It was, inexplicably, an up-tempo perversion of Vivaldi’s Winter Largo in F Minor, lamenting how hard it was to live for art’s sake when the world ran on money and heroic virtue. Listeners without classical training would be unable to appreciate or likely even identify the subtleties of what had been done with the classical score, but the first time he heard it, Sasori had been riveted. Vivaldi’s rhythmic harpsichord had been replaced with a softly tapped snare drum; a mournful electric guitar carried the melody when it wasn’t sung. 

Curiosity piqued, Sasori had investigated the rest of the album, and found similar nods to classical music throughout the tracks, much harder to notice than the adapted Vivaldi, drowned as they were in a thunderstorm of electric guitar and percussion. C4 were more than just a metal band: they experimented with typical traits of the genre and also drew from pop rock, classical music, even musical theatre to create a sound unlike anything Sasori had ever heard. They broke all the rules and they did it with glee.

One day—a rest day—home alone and bored, Sasori had looked up the band online. It surprised him to learn that the lead singer had been only sixteen when the band was formed. That powerful voice certainly didn’t sound like it belonged to a teenager. But the band’s website was light on biographical information, and Sasori hadn’t felt like digging deeper. An overwhelming amount of fan sites and social media accounts had sprung up since “Burn Down All the Discos” and C4’s world tour. Bored as he was that day, Sasori wasn’t about to use his precious free time to obsess over some flash-in-the-pan rock band, especially one fronted by a kid.

And yet, he still listened to them.

“Artist” often competed for the position of most frequently-played song on his app, but only when he was feeling particularly moody. 

It crossed his mind that he ought to check if C4 had come out with anything new lately—the app usually sent a message when artists he’d followed released new music. Pausing to wait for a traffic light, he dug for his phone again.

Lo and behold, a new album had dropped not three days ago.

Beauty of a Moment, it was called. The cover art featured the Venus de Milo... mid-explosion.

Sasori chuckled under his breath. “He really does fancy himself an artist, doesn’t he…” 

What a fool. Popular music was not art. Rock music was not art. It came and went, but the classics stayed. For centuries. Forever.

It was the one thing Sasori and the Third had always agreed on, despite all of their differences. 

Speaking of which… 

...

[leadshootingcupid]

Hey Sniper, Pauling convinced yah to do this ask blog thing too, huh? Cool.

I have a question for yah then: Where the hell are you storing all those damn piss jars? I swear, I stole like- two dozen from the BLU Sniper last match, and I'm ASSUMING you two have similar habits, so EXPLAIN YOURSELF. There's just no way you're pissing THAT MUCH DURING A MATCH, so SURELY you stockpile them, right?

I need to know this Sniper.

Your resident Hoarder,

- @welcome-to-my-hoard

Hey mate.

I see ya have chatted with Truckie 'bout the whole universe business already.

Anyhow, yea, I keep a li'l supply on me - 's what happens naturally, anyway - 'n I start off battles with a few jars at the ready whenever possible, with pockets 'n all.

But 's not like nothin' happens in battle, either.

Plus, there's usually some jars for restockin' in our respawn room.

Ripper job ya did on stealin' all that from the wanker, heh. Keep it up.