#so shiny and chrome

[jenfoundabug]

Condylostylus patibulatus, a type of long-legged fly, in Northeastern Pennsylvania.

[bluntblade]

I feel like there should be some kind of small but lustrous lifetime achievement award for all the people who worked to make Phasma so very shiny in The Last Jedi. Every time I see her in a frame of that movie I go "holy crap she's so reflective, how much VFX work did it take to get those reflections just right?"

[sysig]

Requestober time! When I was younger, I used to dress up my favorite stuffed animal for Halloween, and I just imagined Todd seeing Scri and Edgar coordinating costumes and deciding to do the same with Shmee! Do you think it would it be equally silly as the Vargases' costumes??

Day 13 - Royalty

[annieqattheperipheral]

If it hasn't been said yet

these matte black helmets FUCK

[meyerlansky]

I've seen the tag a few times, and I was curious: what is the dartco house? (or Dartco/DartCo, not sure how it should be capitalised)

jhksdfkjkfjksdfkj so @goatsandgangsters and i are probably moving in together within the next year? six months? soonish. and basically the dartco house is the aspirational meshing of our respective aesthetic sensibilities—the phrase itself is “dark art deco” smushed together because i’m lazy and didn’t want to type the whole thing out when i made the tag :P

the aesthetic is basically this post, which is what kicked off the phrase, with more images here [it is unfortunately an airbnb 😒], and also this one. lots of jewel tones, lots of cool things to put on the walls and on Surfaces, lots of pieces of furniture with Character. it’s not necessarily restricted to one style or time period, because while i want this in our bathroom i want this by the front door. so, y’know. it’s all about vibes!

[lagycart]

mermaid and 2d heart nails.

did mismatched design for both hands and feet this time. as i had a diving trip right after my nails appointment, so i picked mermaid theme again with glitters and shiny blue and purple colors, it's my absolute favorite as the colors are just so pretty, especially with chrome effect.

2d nails are also something new and cute, i love the effect very much and red nails kinda stands out a lot too. really love both the designs even though they are totally unrelated.

[haverwood]

The Five Wives: So Shiny, So Chrome Roger Williams 2015

[heavy-lobster]

It always makes me so sad to see people hating on the future paradox shinies because I really do like them. Like I get that they're all kinda the same thing and that some of them change less/look worse than others and that's fair but! Idk my first thought when I saw them was that it's like some sort of factory mistake. Like when a mass produced toy is missing a bit of paint on some parts only instead of a toy it's a killer robot that can shoot lasers

[demoness-one]

if i didnt have to behave financially this month i would be ordering some very sexy trailer marker lights right now

[notmyneighbor]

Back Alley - Doppelgänger Francis Mosses x Female Reader

Word Count 5k

Rating Explicit

CW - minor blood/injury, fluff and smut

Also available on AO3

The end of your shift. The quiet part of the evening.

Nestled downtown in the oldest part of the city, the diner you’re employed at as a waitress caters to DDD members and civilians alike. The final patrons have already filed out the front entrance, a pair of glass front doors with shiny chrome handles. You begin the process of closing the establishment for the evening, starting with a final wipe down of all the surfaces in the dining area while the young man that washes dishes works his way through the last batch of soiled utensils and plates and cups. You count the money in the register and gather the receipts, placing everything on the owner’s desk in the tiny office in back of the restaurant.

The adolescent has finished the washing in the kitchen and finds you putting leftover food scraps onto a plate, a snack for the stray cats that dwell in the alley behind the diner. He rocks on his heels, the apron he’d been wearing already removed and now anxiously wrung between his hands. “Did you want me to wait, or…”

You smile softly. “No, that’s alright. I’m just going to set this out and bring out the trash and I’ll be locking up. Go on home. Be safe.”

Needing no further encouragement, the youth darts from the kitchen. You shake your head ruefully, gathering the ends of the plastic bag in the kitchen’s rubbish bin together and knotting them. Balancing trash in one hand and the plate in the other, you manage to open the heavy steel door at the rear of the diner that leads to the alley.

Normally there are several strays to greet you as soon as you open the door, accustomed as they are to this nightly routine.

Tonight it takes you several moments to locate one solitary form after you’ve lobbed the bag into the dumpster and closed the lid, retrieving the plate you’d set by the back door.

You spy one of your usual clients hovering near the stockade fence further down the narrow passageway, a raggedy looking gray tabby with a torn ear that’s normally the friendliest of the bunch.

“Hey there. What’s wrong, you’re not hungry?” You walk forward a couple of steps, crouching down and holding out your empty hand, making little affectionate sounds to lure the animal closer.

In the distance you hear voices shouting. Not uncommon in the city, but you’re still wary as you straighten, leaving the plate on the ground.

The cat, still hunched by the fence, issues a warning growl.

You turn and see a shape moving from the opposite end of the alley where it divides into the main road, the hair on your bare forearms rising, the skin goose pimpling.

You whirl around, already making for the open door at your back, that slice of light inside a beacon that’s frustratingly so close and yet so far.

You don’t quite make it.

A hand reaches the door before you do, slamming it shut. It becomes a wall at your back as you shrink against it, recoiling from whatever just closed it.

No, not whatever. The strays knew what it was. Now you know, too.

A doppelgänger.

This one dressed in the uniform of a milkman, though his outfit had seen better days. Spattered with blood, you cannot find a single patch of the white shirt that doesn’t bear some trace of scarlet droplets. Shouting again in the distance, though this time it sounds closer.

You open your mouth to yell for help and a hand instantly clamps down over it. The doppel is breathing heavily. It must be the DDD pursuing him. Without the light of the diner’s interior, you can’t see much of the creature’s replicated features in the night shrouded alley. You wonder why he hasn’t killed you yet, your heart hammering like mad.

“I’m not going to hurt you. If you help me, I’ll do something for you in return.”

He was trying to bargain? Bad idea. Doppelgängers were notorious liars. By definition of their very existence they had to be masters of deceit. He must have been desperate if he was making this offer. Definitely being chased by the disposal team officers, the likely source of the shouting you’ve been hearing, the details of the situation coming together in your mind.

You can’t imagine a single thing the invader could offer you that you’d desire.

“I’m going to remove my hand. We’re going to go inside. You’re not going to make a sound. Agreed? Nod if you understand me.”

Wide eyed, nostrils flaring, you move your head, signaling your acceptance of his terms. What choice did you have?

The barrier over your mouth lifts and you’re pushed aside, firmly but without malice, the heavy door wrenched open. You’re shoved inside and the door is quickly shut again.

“Is the front door locked? Lights off?”

You nod, swallowing past a panicked lump in your throat as you take a couple of steps back away from the intruder.

The male copycat sighs, shoulders visibly sagging with relief.

He’s still hiding.

Still wearing the visage of the human he’d duplicated, a tired looking brunette male probably in his early thirties with tousled chestnut hair, shadowed under eyes, a long nose with the slightest bump along the bridge—an old injury that had never healed quite right, perhaps—set above thin lips.

The arm that’s been tucked tightly against his side the entire time, never once in use to restrain you or open the door, you realize, now lifts, exposing a gash across his lower abdomen, rent right through the fabric and severing the flesh beneath.

You’d incorrectly assumed the blood had been from a struggle with the original milkman he’d replicated, not from the alien himself. You suck in a deep breath, wincing as your eyes linger on the injury. “What happened?”

“Got cut jumping the fence.”

“That’s going to need stitches,” you observe as he drags the shirt’s hem free of his belted pants, hurriedly thumbing the buttons open and shrugging out of the garment, thrusting it into the garbage bin you hurriedly point to. The undershirt is similarly stained, but this he leaves in place, merely lifting the edge to better expose the wound.

His eyes meet yours. “Can you do it?”

“I mean, I’m not a physician. All I have is the sewing kit I keep in my purse to mend tears in an emergency. You need to see a doctor, go to the hospital…” Your voice trails off. Of course he couldn’t. He’d be killed instantly.

“Get it.”

You hesitate. Were you really going to risk helping this foreigner?

“Please,” he adds through gritted teeth. Perspiration beads his forehead. You wonder if he hasn’t already been exposed to something that would prove infectious later on. Not really your concern, though. You just needed to survive until you could get away from him. Somehow.

“Alright.” You don’t spare any more time debating about what the right course of action is. You grab one of the clean dish rags from under the kitchen sink and your purse stashed in the bottom desk drawer in the office.

The doppelgänger’s eyes remained fixed on your every movement, watching as you soak the wash cloth in warm water and pull the sewing kit from your purse, the fingers threading the needle shaking. You drag one of the chairs from the dining room for him to sit on, kneeling on the linoleum beside his seated form.

You hesitate again. You really didn’t have the appropriate kind of materials for this. Should you have heated the needle to try to sterilize it first? Was there even time for that? Would it be easier just to attempt to cauterize the area? Somehow you don’t think the invader would be keen on the idea of getting burned, even if the intention was to aid and not harm. “I don’t know that this is going to work, but I’ll do my best. This is going to hurt,” you caution.

“Worse than being cut open?” He asks bitterly.

“No, I suppose not.” You begin washing around the cut, scrubbing at the dried blood, trying to clean the edges of the laceration. It’s still weeping blood but the flow has slowed, the body’s natural clotting process coming into effect. The milkman he’s replicated is on the leaner side, with little softness in the abdomen you’re cleansing. “Why can’t you just replicate the skin again? Make it intact?”

“It doesn’t work like that. It’s penetrated through the outer layer. You humans are so fragile. It doesn’t take much to tear through…” He lets that thought remain unfinished.

You shiver, thinking of how, were circumstances different, he would’ve torn you to shreds without a second thought, murdering you at best, devouring you at worst. You can’t help but wonder if the doppel will turn on you once you finished patching him up.

“Okay, I’m going to try to start sewing.” Your heart is still thudding rapidly. Your eyes narrow in concentration as you pierce the skin, hurriedly seeking the adjacent flesh to sling the thread between, then drawing it taut. You’re feeling a little nauseous and lightheaded. You tell yourself you’re not piecing a person back together. Urging yourself to pretend it was something else. Mending a torn shirt. A ripped stuffed animal. Anything but the gruesome sight before you.

At last the task is completed, the pale skin sutured together. You sit back on your heels, heaving a raspy sigh, your hands clasped tightly together in your lap, willing them to stop trembling.

“You’re skilled,” the doppelgänger murmurs, looking over your handiwork, probing the closed incision gingerly. It is a rather impressive job if you’re being honest, a neat line of even stitches despite your shaking hands.

“You’ll need to keep this clean so it doesn’t get infected. And you can’t move around too much. I don’t know how well that thread will hold.” You gently push his questing digits away, applying gauze and tape from the first aid kit in the office to cover the wound and he eases the ripped undershirt back down.

“Thank you.”

Your eyes meet his. You’ve never heard of an invader asking a human for help. Being grateful. You don’t know what to make of it.

“I won’t forget this.”

You rise, tossing the used wash cloth in the trash and returning your sewing kit to the depths of your handbag. You return the chair to the dining room once he’s slid from it, watching as you settle your purse strap on your shoulder, keys to the diner in hand. The replicant opens the back door a crack, peeking outside, head cocked slightly, listening. No shouting. The DDD had passed through the area. He glances back at you a final time before slipping through the gap.

You lock the door behind him, then sag against it, exhaling a shuddering breath. He’d let you live, as promised. A doppelgänger that kept his word.

What did it mean?

***

He’s in the alley again.

You tell yourself you weren’t looking for the milkman’s clone every night for the last three shifts, merely taking out the garbage and feeding the strays per usual.

Your stomach does a little somersault as he approaches. His skin color is better, no longer so ghostly pale. The milkman uniform he’s wearing looks clean and crisp and starched. Where had he gotten it? Was he keeping a low profile, pretending to be the human he’s dressed as? There certainly seemed to be some transfer of knowledge that occurred when the replicants adopted a human form, intelligence information that surpasses beyond what could be obtained through just casual observation. The doppels knew so much about humans, and humans still knew so little about the invaders, what should have been a home field advantage hampered by the persistence of these alien visitors.

“How are you?” You greet him cautiously.

“Healing well. You did a fine job.”

What should you say to that? You’re glad you helped the enemy? You shudder to think what would happen if anyone ever found that out.

The doppelgänger steps closer. “Are you going to invite me inside?”

As if he was a vampire, seeking permission to grant entrance. You can’t imagine what he wants from you now.

Still, you push the door open wider. He eases past you, his body lightly brushing yours.

“What do you have to eat?”

“Um…” As far as you knew, the invaders only ate human flesh. “What…what did you want? I haven’t cleared out the displays yet. There’s pie, donuts from the morning, though those are probably stale by now. I can make you a sandwich, or…”

He follows you into the dining room as you list the possible offerings, reaching for one of the chocolate iced pastries tucked under the nearest glass dome. He takes an experimental bite and his mouth turns down in disgust at the flavor.

“I warned you they’d be stale.”

“It’s not that. It’s the sweetness. Overwhelming. We’re primarily carnivores.”

“Is turkey okay? Or maybe ham? I don’t know what to offer you.”

He tips his head to one side, considering. “Cow?”

“Yes, we have ground beef.”

“That would be preferable.”

“You just want it…raw?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.” There are a couple of defrosted packages in the fridge. You resolve to put some of your tip money towards the meal. You don’t like the idea of stealing from the restaurant.

It feels weird just handing him the styrofoam tray, but also silly to dump the mass of pink pulverized meat onto a plate. You refuse to watch him eat, studying one of the laminated menus resting on the counter intently, unfortunately catching a glimpse of him licking the traces of blood lingering at the bottom of the package when you dare to glance over at him.

“I’m aware this adds to the debt I owe you,” he says.

You discard the tray and fold your arms across your chest, trying to exude more confidence than you felt. “I’ll put it on your tab.”

A slight frown appears as the creature processes the phrase.

“It means adding it to the list of things you already owe that you intend to repay.”

“Ah. Yes, that.” He watches you finish cleaning up after his grim repast, wiping the counter down a final time before accompanying you to the front door and waiting as you lock the entrance from the outside, tugging on the chrome handles to make sure they’ve been secured properly. “Do you live nearby?”

“Yes,” you answer, suddenly wary.

“This is not a very safe part of town for humans,” he muses.

Is anywhere safe anymore?

“Is your living space guarded by the DDD?”

“Not internally. There’s just the street patrol.”

“I’ll accompany you as far as your destination, then.”

“You don’t have to.”

The doppelgänger insists, now walking beside you. It feels unwise to allow the invader to see where you live, but then again, had he done anything to harm you thus far? Surely there had been opportunity if that was his main goal. What was his main goal? What did he want, if not to consume, to take over control of the planet like his brethren?

“You’re not like the others,” you murmur your thoughts out loud, feeling the mimic’s eyes flick in your direction.

“Do you know many doppels?” He sounds bemused.

“No,” you reply, stepping over a broken bottle littering the pavement.

“Is every human the same?”

“Of course not.”

“So why should we be any different?”

“I guess you’re right,” you concede.

You’ve reach the end of the street you’re traveling on and take a right, leading the invader onward into another back alley. You’ve barely taken a few paces before the sound of heavy footsteps alerts you to someone else’s presence.

“Disposal team.” You hear the disgust and fear in your companion’s tone as he tenses, jerking to a halt. The sounds are getting louder as the guards draw closer. “Play along. They won’t be suspicious if they see a couple.”

Suddenly you’re pushed against the wall, so abruptly the air leaves your lungs, your next desperate intake of oxygen interrupted when the doppel’s mouth covers yours.

You feel you stomach do that little somersault motion again. His tongue finds the inside of your mouth. He tastes slightly metallic. The movements are inexperienced, clumsy. Imitating something he’s seen. The teeth that nip your bottom lip are sharp.

“Hey! You there! What’s going…” The DDD officer halts, the beam of the flashlight illuminating what appears as your lover pinning you against the wall, caught up in a moment of passion. You don’t even have to fake the look of embarrassment as your eyes shyly meet the guard’s, the doppel’s mouth sliding from yours.

“Sorry, sir. Just picked my girl up from work and I couldn’t wait.” He offers a sheepish grin that looks extremely convincing.

The DDD member’s partner draws even with his cohort, the gun in his hand lowering, looking over the pastel yellow dress you’re wearing.

“I know you. You work over at the diner.”

You nod frantically.

“You should get on home. It isn’t safe out here. Even with your man with you. Especially not down the side streets.”

“Sorry, that was my idea. My feet are killing me and I just wanted to get home faster.” You pause, reaching for your purse still slung over your shoulder. “Did you want to see our IDs?”

“Nah, that’s alright. Imagine a doppel making out with a human. Right?” He elbows his companion, grinning.

“Get home safe, now. No more dallying,” the older of the pair cautions before abandoning you, resuming patrol with the more inexperienced member who’s still wearing a smirk as he trails slightly behind, darting one more glance in your direction as if hoping to catch you in the act again.

The copycat heaves a sigh of relief when they’ve both finally departed, the booted steps receding in the distance. His eyes lock with yours, and you see his nostrils flare slightly, a slight frown wrinkling the bridge of his nose, then his eyelids lift, whatever mystery he’s been puzzling over solved.

“You liked that.”

“What?” It’s your turn to be confused.

“You liked what we just did.”

Oh. Your cheeks flush again. “No, I…I was just playing along, like you said. You caught me off guard.”

“You did a good job. Thinking on your feet. Admirable, really. How deep in debt I’m getting,” the doppel hums beside your cheek. He hasn’t shifted much since your discovery, one hand still braced on the wall at your back, his body leaning close to yours. “You smell good. Good enough to eat.”

You shiver and gasp. “You promised me you wouldn’t hurt me.”

“No, no. Not what I had in mind at all,” he hurriedly reassures you. The clone of the milkman plants a kiss on the side of your neck. Gentle. Not rushed, not under the guise of something to trick the guards. Repeating the process, getting accustomed to using the human body he’s replicated for this new task. He kisses your lips again, and you know you should be repulsed.

You’re not.

Your mouth parts for his, inviting him inside. He’s already growing more skilled, the tongue against yours slick, deft, curling and stroking, the fire he’d begun stoking in your core flaring anew.

You’re French kissing a doppelgänger, and you like it.

You feel a hand caressing down your body, pausing to drag the purse off your shoulder, then kneading one breast before sliding down to your hip, moving neatly around to grope the curve of one buttocks cheek. The fingers curl, dragging up the fabric of your dress.

“I can smell your arousal. Your body wants to mate.” It’s crass, vulgar, sheer filth the alien should be slapped for uttering, but there’s nothing derogatory in the way he mentions it, the words of observation that he spreads before your lips lilted with a kind of wonder, fascination, curiosity. He’s finally reached the hem of the skirt portion of your work uniform, shifting quickly to the waistband of the panties you’re wearing, dipping underneath and nudging at the fork of your body.

To be doing this, with a doppelgänger, in public…

Your legs are already shifting, your stance broadening slightly to grant him better access. A little grunt of satisfaction, and then his fingers glide through your slickened folds, searching for the source of that dampness.

You moan softly, disappointed when the fingers do not linger, instead brought up to the invader’s lips, his thumb rolling the slick of your sex over the pads of his index and middle fingers curiously before he thrusts them into his mouth, a fresh flood leaking from your canal as you watch his eyes slide closed, a sound of some rapturous enjoyment hummed around those digits.

He kneels down, the movement swift and smooth, your eyes darting nervously to the lit street so close and yet so far, the last of the street lamp glow’s reach ending just beyond the shadows you’re standing in. The doppel looks up at you and you bury a hand in the thick mane of chestnut hair, a tender gesture of permission, pleading. You don’t know if he’d stop even if you’d declined the offer, that ravenous look in his eyes intense as he impatiently shifts the hem of your dress again, dragging away the flimsy undergarment that clothes your sex, this last barrier discarded carelessly on the pavement nearby.

Your low heeled pumps scrape against the dirty gravel of the alley as you adjust your position, the alien’s face instantly at your pussy, nose digging into your mound, tongue laving the rosy sensitive flesh. He groans and you echo the sound, your legs already trembling as his tongue delves deeper, dragging fluid back, the inadvertent flick of the tip of the curled muscle against your bud making you gasp and moan, your head rocking back against the brick and mortar.

His attention focuses on that sensitive bundle of nerve endings, mouth clamping over it and sucking, slurping, nursing at it until you see spots in front your eyes. You know you’re being loud, your only saving grace being that the building at your back is a long abandoned shirt factory with no one to hear your lewd sounds of pleasure.

His fingers are at your entrance again, paired to penetrate into that opening. The milkman he’s imitating has long fingers that reach deep, curling and twisting inside, scooping out more of your arousal for him to lap at before he sups at your pussy, drinking straight from the source.

You bite your bottom lip until it bleeds when you climax, shuddering against that incessant mouth worshipping your cunt, your fingers knotting restlessly in his tresses. You cum like a freight train, hard and fast, an unstoppable force driving you right through into bliss.

He’s still lapping, enjoying the taste of you, this new creamier substance that emerges from deep within after your release. You can’t tolerate it any longer, now shoving gently at his shoulders, pleading you’re too sensitive, it’s too much, you feel as if you might faint if not for the strong building exterior supporting your spine.

The doppelgänger rises, face wet with your juices smeared across his mouth and chin and cheeks, a distinct shine visible even in this dim illumination. “Delicious,” he growls softly, dragging his fingers over his dampened features and then nursing them clean.

His gaze focuses on the smear of crimson on your lower lip and he licks at that spot, sucking the wedge into his mouth, tasting that little copper tinged leakage of your lifeforce. You whimper and keen, feeling his hand guide one of yours to his crotch, pressing it against the erection straining there.

You squeeze gently and he huffs in pleasure, dragging your hand up and down. Needing no further guidance, you begin struggling with the belt buckle and button closure and zipper keeping you from your goal, dragging his cock through the opening flap of his briefs, smearing precum over the tip and eliciting another deep growl, the mouth nuzzling your throat vibrating in pleasure.

“Want to fuck you,” he gasps, and you find yourself nodding, no longer caring about the exposed location or what you’re about to let invade your body. You want it, the brief satiety you’d just enjoyed already dissipating, leaving you hungry for more.

His hands loop around the back of your thighs, his body crouching slightly then lifting you up, your dress scraping along the bricks. He fucks up into you and your legs wrap around him, your wrists draped over his shoulders as you’re thrust into and back against the building.

The milkman’s copycat prick is large, long and thick, stretching you as he fills you when his hips snap forward. Your unprotected buttocks suffers abrasions each time you’re impaled but you couldn’t care less. The pain is lost amidst the pleasure you’re experiencing as he buries himself deeply, withdrawing just slightly before driving forward again. Your mouths seek one another’s but it’s difficult with all the jostling, a sloppy collision of wet lips and wetter tongue, trails of saliva linking your panting openings.

“Your stitches…the strain, you shouldn’t…you’re bleeding,” you gasp, the hand that snakes down finding his shirt sticky with blood.

“Don’t care…fix it later…”

Your breasts are tender from the repeated battering of his chest against yours. You’re being pummeled mercilessly now, the invader pushing so hard it’s as if he’s trying to merge completely with you. You almost think you can see, just for a moment, a shift in the facial features, a glimpse of the doppelgänger’s true form lurking beneath the false human surface, but then it’s gone and it’s just those soft tired eyes and that slack, generous mouth as his cock pounds into your cunt until your body finally surrenders to another release, your muscles clenching, sucking at his member. He chases his own climax, moaning against your mouth, pumping streams of hot seed inside of you.

You realize then you’re both sweating, both drenched in perspiration and saliva, blood from his reopened wound and cum that leaks out of you and coats the erection he withdraws from your body as he slowly lowers you back to the ground, your stockinged feet touching the dirty road, your shoes lying nearby where they’d tumbled during the rough intercourse with the alien creature.

The doppel retrieves your panties and you hastily shove them into the purse he hands you. There’s no way you’ll be putting those back on after being in the dirty alley, almost laughing aloud at the idea when you’ve just been soiled by something you should consider disgusting. The amusement fades as you watch him brush the sole of each nylon clad foot clean before assisting them back into your pumps, the gesture almost oddly tender and thoughtful.

The doppelgänger straightens, his fingers reflexively reaching for the bloodied area staining his shirt, then moving to refasten his pants. His eyes meet yours again, waiting to see what you’ll do next. Wondering if there is regret, perhaps. Or if this is the start of…something.

“I…I live two streets over. We’re nearly there.” As if you hadn’t been interrupted on your journey home. You don’t know what to say, just wanting to fill the sudden silence.

He nods and you begin walking in slow, measured steps. Your limbs are still tingling, the aftershocks of your most recent orgasm still firing through them.

You and your companion reach your destination. The building looms up between two shuttered shops. Five stories. No elevator. You resided on the top floor. A lot of stairs to tackle on a good night when you’d merely worked a shift at the diner. Now, after this…

“It’s a long trek. I’m on the fifth floor. Will you be okay walking that much? I don’t know where else to stitch you back up again. I need to wash it, I need a good light source, I…” You’re inviting him inside your apartment. The realization suddenly dawns on you.

“Yes, I’ll manage.” He pauses. “Thank you,” he says softly.

“For what?”

“Helping me avoid the DDD earlier. This. Letting me into your home.”

You nod, your hand resting on the rusted railing that borders a flight of cement steps leading inside the building. The nearby street lamp flickers, a bulb that was long overdue for a change, the filaments within struggling.

“Of course. People should help each other.” You ascend the stairs, holding open the door for him.

He nods gratefully. “I’m not human, though. I’m the enemy.”

“Are you?” Your voice sounds wary at this reminder and you pause at the top of the first landing.

“I won’t hurt you,” he promises, following you up the next flight of stairs.

“Until the debt is repaid?”

“You don’t trust me.” It’s a statement, not a query.

“I don’t know how I feel.” You’ve reached the third floor. Despite his bravado earlier, you see him wincing slightly, his breathing ragged as he keeps one hand pressed to the injury. You wait for him to recover but he waves his other hand, indicating you should continue your journey.

“Did you enjoy it?”

The words make you halt abruptly and he nearly collides with you. You hurry up to the next landing and clear your throat before you give voice to your admission. “Yes, I enjoyed it,” you say when he reaches your side.

“Will we do that again?”

“Now?”

His solemn features break out into a smile. Handsome. The milkman whose appearance he’d copied was attractive, especially like this. You like the curve of that mouth, the flash of his teeth. “No, not now. I’m hardly in any condition to…I meant later,” he adds for clarification. “Another time.”

“Oh. Yes.” A sudden thought occurs to you. “Will you be safe from the patrol? On the way back, to wherever…”

“I’ll manage. Don’t worry.” He steps closer to you. “Are you that anxious to be rid of me?”

“No, I only meant…” You shake your head, feeling flustered.

“Were you looking for me tonight? When you were behind the diner. Hoping I’d be there, maybe?”

“Why would I…I hardly know you.”

“You know me a little better now though, right?” He crowds you back against the wall of the stairwell. You’re thinking maybe injury or not, he still wants you. You can feel the desire radiating from his eyes, his lips hovering close to yours. “You’re really something special, aren’t you? Out of all the humans to run into, and I find the only one who’s willing to take a chance on me, risk…” His voice trails off before he kisses your mouth. It seems impossible there would be any passion left inside of you to respond but you find your lips melting against his, one hand curling around the nape of his neck, holding the doppelgänger close.

[empty-movement]

Chiho Saito’s 1999 Revolutionary Girl Utena Original Illustration Collection

IT’S HERE. IT’S DONE. IT’S FINISHED. NOW…IT’S YOURS. Happy Holidays, my friends.

Vanna here! I have posted some already about this project, and the responses I got, public and otherwise, have been absolutely incredible. Y’all have been reblogging and hyping this before it even finished…I haven’t felt so encouraged about an Utena project since the musicals! (Yes, streams soon, I promise.) You can read the other post to get more details, and catch my post here with more details about the process if you’re interested. The long and short of it?

This is the first artbook I ever scanned. I did it in 2001. In Photoshop, using multiple scans per page that took hours to process. But it was 2001. A half megabyte file that was 1250px wide was considered extremely hardcore and impressive. That’s just always been the business I’m in when it comes to Utena art, you know? 

It’s now the latest artbook I’ve scanned, and so much of the process, and effort involved, is unchanged. What has changed, is the result. Welcome to your new desktop background. Your new phone background. Your new poster print. 

What I’ve done here is attempt to create definitive digitized images of Chiho Saito’s work as offered by this book--I have removed the print moiré of the original scans, and used my literal decades of experience to try and tease out as much information from them as possible. Without being physically in front of the original artwork (which is a thing I’ve had the great fortune to get to do) this is The Most Chiho Saito you are ever going to get. I’ve tried my best to make sure there is a way to get it that works for everyone:

Do you just wanna scope 'em out? Look at some disaster gays? Grab your favorite one or two? This is the path for you! Check out the ‘compressed’ (not very) 10k ‘web friendly’ (not really) copy at the Bibliothèque, the media archiving wing of the Something Eternal forums at Empty Movement*. All the following links are also available from here. Do you want these copies? All of them? Don't just grab them individually, friend. This batch is 375MB and can be downloaded as a zip of the individual files here on our Google Drive.

Do you like digital archiving? Are you looking for a copy that preserves the archival quality of the effort but sits nice and comfy in a single file? This is for you. A minimally compressed 10k, 513MB version worked into a PDF is now up, shiny and chrome, on the Internet Archive. Do you like the idea of the minimal compression, but want the individual files in a zip? Yep I did that too, here's the drive link.

Are you looking to print these in a larger size? This is probably the only reason on Earth you’d ever want them, and yet a bunch of you are going to go straight for these. Here are the zero-compression JPG full size copies, most of them are 15k across, like simply a ridiculous size. Pick your fave and download it from our Google Drive! 

I am genuinely really proud of this work.** I was able to tease out so much new detail from these…her incredible layering techniques, the faintest brush of her highlights, and the full range of her delicate hand at whites and blacks… details commonly lost in digitization. I sincerely hope you find something here that you’re looking for, as an artist looking for inspiration, as a weeb looking for a desktop, as an archiver excited to see incredible 90s manga artwork saved forever in the digital realm. I feel like I have already said so much about them, and could keep going, but you know what? This work speaks for itself. Enjoy, use, explore, and definitely tell us what you think!

We love y’all. ~ Vanna & Yasha

* AHEM ASTERISK AHEM

You might be wondering what any of that is. Something Eternal? Biblewhatawhat??? EmptyMovement.com? You might even have done a double take at the word ‘forum.’ And you should!!!

I have a confession. This artbook was my ‘side project’ as I worked on this, *the main project.* For a couple years I’ve been banging around with a new domain, and originally I had other plans for it, but Elon Musk ruined my Twitter and Discord is well along on its way to enshittification, and well….we joke on the Discord a lot about ‘reject modernity, embrace forums’ and you know what? We’re right. So Yasha and I are putting our money where our mouths are once again, and doing something insane. We are launching, in 2023, a website forum. Obviously, this is not the official ‘launch’ per se, but I cannot announce the artbook without directing you to the forum, since it sits on the attached very cool gallery system. Oops! Told on myself. Another post more focused on the forum will be forthcoming, but if you are just that motivated to get in right away, you absolutely can! (This will help stagger new arrivals anyway, which is good for us!) If you would rather wait for the ‘official’ launch, by all means that’s coming, including a lengthy screed about how and why we’re doing this. In either case, remember: this is a couple weebs trying to make internet magic happen, we are not website developers by trade. Give us grace as we iron things out and grow into this cool new website thingie…hopefully along with some of you! :D

If you do join up, naturally, there is a thread about this project!

** If you like this kind of content, consider helping us pay for it! We do have a Patreon! If you’re wanting to use these in some public-facing distributive way, all we ask is for credit back to Empty Movement (ohtori.nu or emptymovement.com, either will work.) 

I would like to say ‘don’t just slap these files on RedBubble to get easy money’ but I know that saying this won’t effectively prevent it. Y’all that do that suck, but you’re not worth letting it rain on the rest of this parade. :)

[httpisaoki]

stupid in love ft. yu jimin

sypnosis: you can deny it all you want, but yu jimin can't help but to be stupid in love with you-- even if it she showed it in the most cheesy way possible.

warnings: fluff, pre-established relationship, flirting, both reader and karina are in the top 3 of their school-- so basically karina likes reader and isn't afraid to hide it AND shes so loser coded in this fic broooo

-> the final part of the chrome hearts series. inspired by stupid in love by max ft. huh yunjin.

know it's a little soon, maybe but I'd go anywhere you take me long as you're calling me, baby they can all call us crazy

jimin couldn't handle the boredom, the both of you sat on your respective seating arrangement, the two of you being seatmates-- she would always find a way to tease you. 

the two of you were the best of the best when it came to aces in your university. jimin being the swim captain, and one of the best volleyball players in yonsei, while maintaining her grades into a 99. you on the other hand, were a known 'genius' in your school, being the vice president of the stuco, you had always been the most responsible and respected person on campus, not only that, you were the top 1 in yonsei.

ever since the both of you were spotted together, the common 'academic rivals' trope stood between you too, most of the students made a fanbase between the two of you. basically, they were being nosy in whatever you two had. wether it was the crowd's opinion or not, yu jimin made it her mission to swoon you over.

until, a year ago, while in the middle of her bet of making you hers, she fell for you. yes, yu jimin was helplessly in love with you. now, jimin clicks her tongue, sighing before finally breaking the silence.

"you know, i wish i could've met you all over again." she teased with a smile on her face.

you glance at her, tilting your head in question, "hm?" you hummed.

she laughs, "oh, c'mon! stop playing dumb with me, yn. i mean, just look at me!" she chuckles, her eyes are bright and shiny as she grins wide, her lips puckered into a small o-shape, her eyebrows raised up in amusement.

she tilts her head at you, a smirk painted on her small, pink lips as she waits for your response. 

as jimin waits for you to respond, she gives her hair a slight shake, the strands of dark brown hair falling down onto her shoulders.

her eyes are full of glee, she couldn't help but to feel giddy. you made her heart pump loudly in her chest, but for the sake of embarrassment, it didn't show.

"i wish i could've met you for the first time all over again." jimin laughs, leaning back on her seat to look at you.

as she finishes on speaking, she bites the tip of her tongue, her teeth digging lightly on it, the tips of her cheeks flushing. she lets out a small giggle as she leans back on her seat, her hands folded on her chest as she looks at you.

she opens her mouth to say more, yet nothing seems to come out of her when the mere fact of her heart hammering like crazy and her thoughts blanking out made her unable to move-- to utter another word.

you chuckled, "hm? why? did you miss me that much?" you teased her, stretching your hands as you turn to face her. your body language has always been an open book to jimin. the way you lean back into your seat and the way your shoulders slouch, the way your hand brushes against your neck, to her; these actions seemed so natural.

she sighs, before finally uttering a single word: "yes." her fingers brush over the hem of her blouse, as she shifts in her seat, feeling incredibly embarrassed at her own actions. 

she crosses her legs under the table and bites her tongue, a small smile etched on her lips as she waits for a reply from you.

you smile at her, "i thought so." before continuing the lectures you were reading.

even though she was a bit irritated with your reply, her stomach twisted and turned, getting more butterflies than she should have.

"y-yn!" she whined in an exaggerated tone in attempt to get you to hear her. "stop working on that stupid exam paper, talk to me!" she whines again, this time, leaning a little forward from her seat.

you glance at her, then at the papers on your desk. you sighed, finally giving in. "alright. i'm sorry, rina." you give her a soft smile.

she gasps, placing her both hands on her chest, in some sort of an exaggerated motion. 

"r-rina?" she teases, her voice was high pitched and her tone was teasing, "did you miss me that much? i'm flattered." she continues, her head tilting to the side, her eyebrows raised.

you playfully rolled your eyes, you scoffed softly, "your ego is huge." you smirked, "but yes, I did miss you." the statement makes her ears go red.

she laughs, giggling as well as biting her tongue. she puts her face on her palms, laughing 

even more, her fingers running through her hair as she tries not to laugh too hard. 

"yn.." she teases, taking in a deep breath and letting it out as she looks at you, before continuing, "you know you're cute." her dark eyes sparkle under the dim lighting. Her words made her cheeks burn.

you smirked, "hm? I think you're even cuter when you blush.."

her face heats up even brighter, she tries to cover her flushed cheeks with her palms, yet it was to no avail as her hand keeps trembling. 

"w-well--" she tries to speak, but her voice came out as a mumble. the both of you were having a cute moment, but it was a bit strange as her face was so flushed that it was almost redder than her eyes. you would always remember her blushing face everytime you two are together.

she looks down and sighs quietly as she plays with her hair, her cheeks still incredibly red. you notice her tapping her leg under the table in an anxious manner. 

you couldn't hold back your curiosity anymore and you just had to ask "jimin," you say, wanting to get her attention. she slowly lifts her head, to look at you with a bright smile. her eyes are still sparkling as she looks directly into you eyes, a small blush painted on her cheeks.

you couldn't help but notice her nervous nature, it was adorable how jimin was so expressive with her feeling. you couldn't resist teasing her. 

"jimin, you do know that blushing doesn't hide your feelings, right?" you teased, letting out a small chuckle as you look at her small red cheeks, her eyebrows slightly quirked up in amusement as you notice her nervous hand gestures.

even after all the time you spent together, jimin was still the same girl you learned to love. she was the same girl who made you laugh, and taught you how to love. yu jimin was the girl who loved you, and you'd hate to admit it, but you were stupidly in love with her.

I don't wanna think too much let's get matching tattoos I don't wanna think it through baby, I'm so stupid in love (with you)

masterlist.

[cherrybombfangirlwrites]

Hey, remember how during Pride Month the writeblr community has posts circulating where queer authors are encouraged to promote their books with queer representation?

July is disability pride month, Disabled people are at risk of falling below the poverty line especially and i'd love to help those who are published get paid this month if i can, so...

Let's do the same thing but with Disability Pride Month!!!

Disabled Writers feel free to promote your stuff!

I'll start:

Hello, I'm Anna, I'm an Autistic and ADHD author! Here are my canonically disabled characters in books that will come out in like 50 years because I'm a slow writer:

(I noticed most of these are mental disabilities and disorders, probably because that's where most of my personal experience is, BUT i do have quite a few physical disabilities in there, and there's also quite a bit of intersectionality <333)

Prince Kaye (FSF series): Kaye has OCD! He's also mixed latino and bisexual <3 very sweet scrawny peacemaker prince born to a family of warlords <3

Captain Cassandra (FSF series): Cassandra is mute due to trading her voice and tail for human legs, and partially deaf due to an explosion on the seas during a battle. Due to losing her tail for human legs, she also experiences chronic pain in her feet (the original curse of every step feeling like walking on knives if you will). She's also plus sized, pansexual, and gets a pirate girlfriend

Erica (FSF series): Erica is an amputee pirate with a peg leg. She's also lesbian, polynesian, plus sized, and Cassandra's hopeless romantic pirate girlfriend.

Princess Hestia (FSF series): Hestia has an anxiety disorder! She's also plus sized, South Asian mixed (like her brother), and falls in love with a shy blonde bookworm trans boi named Elliot

Raven (FSF series): Raven is Autistic! He's a morally gray knight charged with being the personal bodyguard of a reckless princess. He's so Latino and bisexual <3

Princess Sapphire (FSF series): Sapphire has ADHD! She's the reckless adventure seeking and impulsive princess that Raven has to protect. She's also a redhead, and demisexual <3

Triveya (FSF series): Triveya is autistic and adhd! She's the resident wizard and magic expert in the cast of FSF, and is a little bit feral with a bubbly and nerdy personality

Kylee (TCIO series): Kylee is autistic and non speaking! She's a superhero with super speed and invisibility powers, and she's the youngest of the team while also being a mischievous and outgoing ball of sunshine

Bryson (TCIO series): Bryson is diabetic! I'm still developing his character so i haven't figured out which type he is yet (leaning towards type 2). He's the superhero team medic with healing powers (can't heal himself or emotional injuries with said powers), and he's also a black guy and the token straight of the team that's on thin ice

Chase (TCIO series): Chase has OCD, a bipolar mood disorder, and chronic depression and anxiety to go with it! He's the tech guy on the team of superheroes, and doesn't have any supernatural abilities, but he's really good with computers and tech. He's cynical and sarcastic (because of the ableism he's experienced in the past) but secretly does care, and he's also Romani American and Jewish!

Corie (Galaxy Des. series): Corie is a cyborg and has prosthetic limbs! She has a prosthetic eye, arm, and leg. The eye does come with a small interface and her arm does have a laser gun attachment. She built and repairs all of her robot parts herself, and is a highly feared and valuable assassin in the galactic underworld. She's also mixed brown and is AroAce!

NOVA (Galaxy Des. series): Nova is epileptic! She is an android who was scrapped due to malfunction, and became a smuggler who is good at her trade. Due to faulty wiring she's epileptic. She's a cynical and grumpy android who accidentally falls in love with a loveable human lesbian rogue. She's bisexual and has shiny chrome skin with cyan lighting in the cracks.

Pandora (Galaxy Des. series): Pandora is a part-time wheelchair user, autistic and adhd, and tourettic! He is a biologist that formerly did morally questionable work for the galactic government, and now does that same work in the criminal underworld and sells it to the highest bidder. She also uses he/she pronouns, is mixed brown, and pansexual!

Ethel (unnamed witchy wip): Ethel has one eye and PTSD! She's a witch in a world where magic has just been outlawed, and a witch hunting cult has been hired by the new king and queen to hunt down and eradicate witches. She's also AroAce and very underdeveloped because this is a backburner wip.

Thanks for reading! Links to my wips are in my pinned post! If you are a disabled writer and or have disabled characters, do share!

Happy Disability Pride Month!

[soshinysochrome]

CHARACTER WANTED

Notes: William Sr. is intended to be as open to interpretation as possible, save for a few details so as not to conflict with Liam Toland, Jr.'s app

Set in Stone:

Early 40s to early 50s

Father of Liam Toland, Jr.

Served in the Australian Defense Forces (military)

Went missing in action (MIA) when Liam was a young boy

Loves his wife and son, but is pretty certain they're dead

Continues to search for them anyway, or at least find out what happened to them

If he has a nickname, anything but 'Liam' to avoid confusion

FC that could reasonably be related to Liam's FC, Jeremy Irvine

Options & Suggestions:

Suggested FC: Paul Bettany

Why and where he went MIA

How he got back to Australia (my suggestion: prisoner exchange at the end of the Oil Wars/right before The Fall)

Current faction (my suggestion: Anzacs)

Former branch/unit of Australian forces (Army, Navy, Air Force, special forces)

How he met his late wife/Liam's mother

History prior to marriage and fatherhood

Personality outside of 'loves his wife and son' (see Facts)

Sexuality (my suggestion: any orientation that includes attraction to his wife)

[kamuyagi]

Dungeon Meshi mirror charms I designed! My beloved Kabru and Laios's Ultimate Monster~ Can't wait to have them in my hands all shiny and chrome ╰(✧∇✧╰)

You can pre-order them too now, at the-soup-store! I have all merch I've put out so far there ★>d(,,･ε´-,,)⌒☆

[the-warlock-syndicate]

You may not like to hear this, but Cruelty Squad is the best cyberpunk game out there. All your Cyberpunk 2077, and Stray, and Deus Ex games, plated in shiny chrome, don't grasp the core essence of cyberpunk nearly as well as Cruelty Squad, a game made of filth and disease. It's barely even cyber as well, it honestly leans into biological augments more than cybernetic ones.

But that doesn't matter. Because the absolute core of Cruelty Squad, is that the world is a sick, corrupt festering thing, twisted by greed, corruption, and unrestrained capitalism. Human life has no value, and this is explicitly seen in the narrative and in the game mechanics. And the thing that really stands out is that it deliberately tries to shock and disgust the player.

Sure, many cyberpunk games purport to engage in those themes, of greed, corruption, etc. But there is a dissonance. We are told narratively that this world is horrible, but visually, we see a cool, technologically advanced world, where people are badasses. And the problems in these settings are close enough to our own, real life problems, that a slightly enhanced dystopia might not seem so bad, when it comes with such technological advancement.

Cruelty Squad does not do that. There are no badass characters in the game, rather a series of pathetic, pitiable wretches who act in despicable ways, lacking empathy or humanity. The augments are horrific in such a way that the player does not fantasize about having them in real life. All of the textures are disgusting, and deliberately so. The sounds are abrasive and offputting. Even the UI is hideously ugly. It isn't poorly designed of course. But rather, designed in such a way that the player should never develop a hint of sympathy, longing, or good feelings for any aspects of that world. The underlying assumptions underpinning the cyberpunk genre are not to be romanticized, but rather exposed as a viscerally loathsome thing, which makes one reluctant to touch any part of a world tainted by it.

There aren't a lot of games which linger, and occupy headspace. But Cruelty Squad is one of them.