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#i wish i had more energy to do this cleaner
isa-ah · 3 months
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100% jealousy LOL i can make him worse au stuff
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ss-shitstorm · 6 months
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Hey I know you’ve probably already been asked this but what type of chemistry do you use for breaking bread like biochem and where did you learn this or have any book recommendations to pick it up? Also ty in advance I love your writing!!💕💕
oh my fucking god. oh my god. buddy. buddy you have made my fucking LIFE ASKING THIS OH GOD
So like, most of the chemistry I've used so far has just been Genchem and O Chem(with a wee few modifications to make it believable as a Cybertronian discipline, like Transformium being able to hold 4 bonds like Carbon but preferentially forming bonds w metals and needing an EMP pulse to interact w more electronegative atoms) I may wind up needing to get into a bit of Inorganic chemistry, but that's probably fewer and further in between. If you want a better handle on the stuff I'm writing or if you just want to learn more in general, then I'd recommend giving yourself a lil crash course in Genchem and then delving into O chem a bit more extensively (protip : you need WAY less Genchem then you'd think to fully understand O chem. God I wish someone had told me this 5 years ago. If you search "Genchem for non majors", you'll probably learn enough that way.)
THAT SAID : here's a chaotic, not really in any order list of the books/youtube channels/etc that I've directly used/am using for this fic.
Books :
Caveman Chemistry, Kevin R Dunn - Alot of hands-on old timey historical chemistry lessons w detailed instructions on how to complete them.(YOU GET TO MAKE YOUR OWN ASPIRIN AND DRAIN CLEANER!) Delivered with a delightfully occult bend.
Back To basics,(Reader's Digest) - Survivalist homesteading bible. Not strictly chemistry but has alot of earthy hippy ways of generating energy( biofuels my beloved)
An Introduction to Fire Dynamics, Dougal Drysdale - Honestly this, and any other firefighting manuals are worth their weight in gold for figuring out how to not set yourself and your neighborhood on fire while playing with, well, fire. Trying to look this info up online is like playing russian roulette with intentional misinformation and your fbi guy.
(there's another book I have that's even more detailed but I can't find it right now or remember the name. I'll update this list when I can!)
Organic Chemistry, John Mcmurray 8th edition : generic but good college O chem textbook. You can search around and find free versions to download relatively easily.
The Organic Chem Lab Survival Manual, James W Zubrick - Also a very good way to learn how to not set yourself and your neighborhood on fire when playing with glassware/gases. Very in-depth instructions on setting up and using lab equipment without breaking anything or your brain. Has a fuckton of pictures. Author has a massive sense of humor and makes this heavy subject easy to read. Again, easy to download/find in archives
Unfortunately I do not have any recommendations for Genchem books. I mostly used free online courses like Khan Academy to learn what I did.(I would def. recommend them though)
Youtube Channels :
The Organic Chemistry Tutor : Dude puts everything from reaction mechanisms to retrosynth problems down in the simplest possible terms. Does not beat around the bush with euphemisms or stories, gets right to business. If you have trouble paying attention, or lose your mind when a professor goes off on a tangent, this man is your savior. I have crippling unmedicated ADHD and no STEM background whatesoever and this man still managed to teach me 2 separate ways to execute a Gabriel Synthesis
Nile Red : World's most inefficient and most powerful wizard. I am not entirely convinced he's human. Does shit like turning plastic gloves into drinkable grape soda or making sweeteners out of his own piss and somehow makes it explainable to trash goblins like me who only need the science for warlord pussy.
again, anon, holy shit thank you so much. Like you wouldn't believe the amount of damage you've just undone. i have been beating myself into a pulp and spiraling into anxiety about this fic an trying to do everything right and you've given me enough moxie to fuel me for at least the next 10 chapters. If you have any more questions or more specific questions, please do not hesitate to ask! I can't guarantee I can answer them, but damnit I'll try. Take care and happy learning you funky lil moonbean.
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starlitmark · 11 months
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Summary: After a long day at the hospital, all Jaemin needs is cuddles from his babies. Pairing: cashmere lop!Jaemin x fem human!reader Tropes: hybrid au Genre: fluff, slice of life Rating: PG Warnings: storms, pregnancy, mentions of hospitals/surgeries Word Count: 822
Neo Hybridverse Masterlist || Cashmere Lop!Jaemin Masterlist
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It’s late. It’s really late at night. You’re doing your best to soothe all three of your children back to sleep. A typical summer storm is rolling through your part of the city, and none of them are quite keen on the idea of sleeping right now. You’re beyond exhausted, though. Being eight months pregnant while wrangling a seven-year-old and two five-year-olds is not how you wish to be spending your night.
“Momma, I don’t like the storm. It’s hurting my ears.” Miyoung comments, pressing her hands over her fluffy ears.
“I know, love.” you try to soothe, “Hopefully, Daddy’ll be home soon, and he can help scare the storm away.”
Seojun is the least bothered by the weather. If anything, he’s doing his best to help you. He brought Chaewon her favorite stuffed animal (which he had hidden from her) in hopes that it would help calm his twin down. He bounced around the bedroom, trying to distract his sisters from the storm. All of his attempts to help failed, of course, and he ended up getting spooked by the storm as well.
A loud clap of thunder sounded through the air, and all three of them clung to your sides in bed, trying to hide from the raging storm. Miyoung lets out a squeal and hides her face against your chest. Despite her fear, she giggles when the baby kicks in her direction. You don’t even realize your husband has returned home until the bedroom door pops open, and all three of your kids barrel toward him.
“Hello, my kits.” he giggles, “Why aren’t you sleeping?” he asks while squatting down to their level.
“I was sleeping, but Chae woke me up.” Seojun grunts.
“LIAR! HE WAS SCARED OF THE STORM FIR-” Chaewon starts her tangent but then jumps into her dad’s arms as thunder claps again.
Jaemin picks up all three of them. Miyoung on his back with one twin in each arm. He playfully tosses them on the bed, listening to the chorus of giggles that they let out. You smile at their playful nature despite how late at night it is. With a hand resting on your belly, you watch the interaction contently. Seojun’s grey ears flop back and forth each time Jaemin tickles him. Miyoung and Chaewon, with their soft brown ears try to escape the tickle monster that is their dad. Everything feels so warm and happy.
“I gotta go get changed real quick. These clothes smell like the yucky hospital.” Jaemin explains, “I’ll be right back to cuddle with you five.”
“Five?” you question with a giggle.
Jaemin leans over and kisses you softly, earning disgusted noises from your kids, “Five.” he confirms, placing a hand on your belly.
“Technically, she’s not here yet, so it’s more like a two-for-one situation.”
“Only a few more weeks.”
With that comment, Jaemin disappears into your closet to change into something much cleaner and more comfortable. After a twelve-hour shift as a pediatric surgeon, he absolutely needs to decompress. Cuddling with his babies and wife is exactly what he needs to do. When he comes back into the room, he sees Miyoung already curled up beside you, half asleep. The twins are still pretty hyper, but you’ll always blame that on how high-energy he is too. Before he can process what the two five-year-olds are planning, they’re each clung to one of his legs. Seojun is wrapped around his left leg while Chaewon is on his right. Jaemin drags his feet along the hardwood flooring trying to get to the bed. Both twins giggle excitedly as he does so. The moment he reaches the bed, they both detach and jump up onto the plush mattress. Jaemin climbs into the bed beside you. All three of the kids relax finally. Miyoung is already snoring lightly against your shoulder while the twins wind down finally.
“Pheromones?” you question. Jaemin nods, “How was work today?”
“Actually, not horrible. Two successful surgeries for those little ones I told you about the other day. Then a lot of planning for tomorrow and those surgeries. I’m actually really worried about-”
“Let’s talk about that when we don’t have three kids in our bed.” you interrupt. “Let’s just cuddle for now. We all need it.”
Your husband nods and starts gently stroking Chaewon and Seojun’s ears, lulling them to sleep. The storm starts to calm down outside, and you find yourself leaning your head onto your husband’s shoulder. Miyoung is fast asleep on your left, Chaewon on your right, between you and Jaemin. Seojun is contently curled up on Jaemin’s chest. Moments like these will always be treasured to you. No matter how long they are or how far in the past they may become.
“I love you.” Jaemin mumbles sleepily, “Thank you for giving me these four miracles.”
“I love you too, bunny. Get some rest. It’s been a long day for you.”
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COPYRIGHT STARLITMARK 2023© ALL RIGHTS RESERVED — reposting/modifying any fic or piece of original writing posted on this blog is not allowed. Translations are not permitted. 
Networks: @kwritersworld​ @k-vanity​
Tag List: @raibebe​ @jaehunnyy​ @umbralhelwolf​ @wooyoungmybelovedhusband​
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Prefect gave floyd a key to ramshackle but he refuses to use it
This man goes through every window every hole or just breaks down the door but will not will NOT use the god damn key
This is the funniest request I've gotten and I'm here for it
Fool me once shame on you fool me twice Idia will help me get back at you
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Everyday through out time you'd hear a loud crash which was either from your window or the door, sometimes even the damn wall.
Your first thought to this solution was giving Floyd a spare key to ramshackle you managed to get from Crowley but that didn't help, not when you were brushing your teeth, heard glass shattering and someone yelling -- "SHRIMPYYY"
"Floyd?? I thought I gave you the spare key WHY DO YOU KEEP BREAKING INTO MY HOUSE?!?"
"I know but where's the fun in that? Its way more fun the way I do it" "oh it's fun to tear down your partners only place to live that's nice to know" you replied earning a chuckle from the eel.
Everyday was worse than the other, he even started breaking in through holes and roofs, you had to stop this one way or another that's when you started setting up traps.
Floyd was about to break in through his favourite place, the window, until when he was about to crash in he just slid down the glass, that's odd ... It never happened before the glass was weak but now it's not breaking no matter how hard he tried, a bit grumpy he went to try to break through the wall but just got a leg concussion, the second his leg hit the wall his whole body shivered like in cartoons, cursing under his breathe getting more irritated and wondering what the hell was going on he went for the chimney and midway dropping down he hit his ass hard on cold metal earning a loud "SHHIT" from the eel, having no more energy to break through anything and just standing Infront of the door even if he wished not to his legs were already on a death bed so he had to use the key, pushing open the door and walking in, you greeted him but froze and tried your best not to laugh outloud, his nose was bloody his clothes ripped, dirtied and dusted, his hair was an even more of a mess and he looked beat staring at you tiredly and irritated, you walked up to him and patted his head apologising "sorry but you had to learn your lesson one way or another "
Floyd just gritted his teeth and looked away from you, taking his hand you led him to the living room taking out your first aid kit and healing his wounds, cleaning up his messed up hair and taking his jacket to put it in the cleaner once you sat down he immediately glomped on you and wouldn't let go
"where'd you even get all these things from anyway?" "Idia lent them to me in return for taking grim for a day"
He chuckled at that noticing the parasite wasn't there and nuzzling closer to you and kissing your cheek happily chuckling when your returned the kiss.
The end
A/n: this was lowkey funny, I apologise if there are mistakes or something like that, i wrote this at 2am and now it's 3am
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rreskk · 8 months
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North Yankton Trevor smut. Reader meets Trevor at a strip-joint and he favours her and fucks her doggy style in the dark corner (still in view). Bonus if he's wearing a leather jacket.
Thank you!
NORTH YANKTON TREVOR>>>>> I also included this request down below (As I wanted to merge the two ideas).
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Summary: Deep in the North-West, Trevor was growing a bit lonely after his best-friend had found a girl. But he met this lovely waitress and... Well, he got to know her pretty fast.
TW: -Smut
Word count: 4050
Pairings: Fem!reader/Trevor Philips
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“Do we really have to see Amanda again?” Trevor muttered as he was dragged into the strip-joint by his best pal, his partner in crime; Michael Townley.
Ever since his friend had caught eyes on a woman (this stripper and prostitute), he grew bored and quite alone. Strip-clubs used to be fun when he had friends who joined him with all the private dances, etc… Now it was just him, and occasionally Brad, but he was unavailable tonight.
“What? You love this place.” Responded Michael. He was simply too smitten to notice Trevor’s distaste of his new girl.
“Yeah, used to.”
“Whatever, bro. I don’t know why you’re mad, I’m paying for your drinks and dances.”
“Oh, yeah. That makes everything much better, Mikey.”
“Don’t Mikey me you little shi – “ Townley was cut off when a feminine voice called his name. Amanda had emerged from the staff room door with a smile. He immediately left Trevor’s side and followed her into the office to presumably fuck (just in a more private manner).
“Fuckin’ Townley.” He’d mumble under his breath and just stroll around the strip-joint. He had zero interest in the women working here. He was merely under the weather, sad, annoyed.
There was a table tucked away in the corner. Luckily the cleaners hadn’t of found it yet so Trevor eased onto the seat and helped himself to the leftover beers and chicken wings. He rubbed the grease onto his leather jacket before gulping the rest of his drink and watched the surrounding strippers move their hips sensually on the stage. Normally he’d be so turned on by this, but he felt nothing.
Trevor frowned and glared down at his crotch. He tried to touch himself through his jean trousers, trying to at least feel something.
“C’mon, you sack of shit.” He huffed and unzipped his flies.
Pulling out his cock, it wasn’t even erected. It just lied softly in his palm. It was pathetic. It made him mad. He wanted to be horny, he wanted to have fun, but here he was… Drinking cheap, leftover beer and wishing he was somewhere else; someone else.
“Excuse me,” A voice interrupted him, “Are you alright?”
Trevor glanced up from his exposed dick and saw you. He squinted his eyes with irritation before ogling your body and figure. There was a random spurt of energy that triggered him. Trevor winced when he caught a reaction from his cock, seeing it levitate slightly.
Even the sight of you was fixing his satisfaction.
“Hey.” He’d respond with a cruel smirk. Many ideas troubled his mind, all revolving around the thought of using you.
“Would you like some drinks?” You’d ask, innocently standing there with some dirty plates and glasses.
Trevor hummed as he thought about it. He nibbled at his bottom lip with concentration before nodding.
“A good beer would be nice, sugar.”
You nodded and went to retreat his cold beverage when he spoke again.
“Are you working here all night?”
“Oh, uh, yes. My shift ends up 4am.” You smiled.
“Ahh… Good, good to know, dear,” He had tucked away his dick, dismissing you with a hand, “Better get to it, girl. The beer ain’t gonna serve by itself.”
You’d apologetically nod, clearly intimated by his brisk orders. It was your job to tend the customers but this guy made you nervous. Many years at this joint, many… Yet he had made your skin crawl.
“Your service is greatly appreciated, sweetheart.” Trevor announced after you returned with his beer. The glass hadn’t of reached the table in time as he snatched it from your hand and gulped.  
“That will be… Uh – “ You were going to pass him the check but he ignored it.
The background music was loud, as always, so you repeated yourself a bit louder. And when you did, he just glared at you.
“I heard you the first time, sweetie. I ain’t paying with cash.”
Bold, you assumed. Very bold.
“I’m sorry sir, but we don’t take credit – “
“I ain’t paying with credit, either.”
“What?” He had left you confused.
Trevor finished his pint and wiped the foam from his stache before grinning at you. He leaned forward, his leather jacket squeaking against the slippery table surface.
“My friends payin’ after he’s done with his girl. Would you mind waitin’ until then?” His tone was all soft, nothing like he was a second ago.
“Oh! Yes, of course. Sorry for the misunderstanding, sir.”
“Don’t sweat it… But before you run off and do your thing, I need to know your name...”
You stared at him with discomfort; too shy to say anything.
“For my friend to pay.” He grinned after making you look stupid.
“Ah… Aha…” It was lucky the place was dark considering you were beginning to sweat profoundly, “The name is [y/n], sir. Would you like me to write it down?”
“Nah. I’ll remember.”
“Well, I hope you enjoy the rest of your night.”
“Could I ask for another favour, [y/n]?” The way he said your name was so… Spiteful, mean, but compassionate and alluring. You nodded and he raised a hand, pointing to the backrooms where the dances were placed.
“The private dancers? Would you like me to find you a worke – “
“I don’t want no random worker, sweetheart,” He scowled when you made a quick assumption, “I’m wondering if you work alongside them.”
“Me?”
“Yeah, you.”
“Oh, I – Umm… I’m not working alongside them, sorry…”
“Really?” Trevor looked surprised, “Why not? You are gorgeous. I guess that means you don’t know a lady called Amanda? Ugly, fat, annoying face and voice?”
“No, no, I don’t, sir.”
“Shame… My guy is back there with her. He’s probably deep inside her pussy by now and he’s just left me all alone…”
You cleared your throat, “That’s not nice – “
“No, it ain’t. Friends don’t leave each other, and I consider you a friend, [y/n]. You wouldn’t leave your good old Trev, right?”
“Trev?”
“Oh!” He cackled, “That’s right, I didn’t introduce myself… Where’s my manners, ay?” It was like he was purposely wasting your time.
“Oh, what’s your name?”
“Trevor Philips, sugar. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He held out his hand, an offer for a handshake.
You took it, hesitantly. The skin to skin contact was breathtaking. His skin was rough, scabby, smothered with wounds. You were careful not to directly touch a cut as it looked quite painful. Nonetheless, his grip was heavy. Trevor squeezed your hand until he sat back into his seat and ruffled up his mullet.
“You too…” You’d whisper and look down at the hand he just touched. You still felt his skin linger against yours.
“Well? Why don’t you sit?”
“Huh?”
Trevor looked at you through his eyebrows and pointed to the seat beside him. He said only one word that made you comply, and he said it in a meaty, low, grainy croak.
“Sit.”
When you did sit, he didn’t seem to like how stiff and uncomfortable you were.
“What’s wrong with you? I don’t bite, sugar.”
“Oh,” You avoided eye-contact, “I’m just supposed to be working.”
“And? Say you’re on break. You get a 30 minute break, right?”
“Yes, sir.”
“You already had a break today?”
“No, sir.”
He smirked and placed an arm around your shoulders, “Then you’re on break right now, ay? I need some company anyway.”
“I’d need to tell my manager firs – “
“No, you don’t. You don’t need to tell your manager shit, [y/n]. Just stay here, I can entertain your 30 minute break…”
“Sir, I really ought to tell him – “ Every time you had the opportunity to explain how your shift really works, he just throws it down.
“Call me Trevor, sweetie. I ain’t a customer anymore, I’m your friend. Get used to it. I might even make your 30 minutes freedom into a 45, if you’re lucky.” He’d wink.
“Right… Trevor, hah… Uh, there’s just a paper I have to sign when I’m starting my break. All I need to do is sign it.”
Trevor scoffed, “Fine. Sign it then. But don’t take long, I get angry when I’m lonely.”
You gulped and nodded before rushing away.
He watched you leave with a pout. However, his mood quickly changed when noticing his raging boner from his conversation with you. He smiled. He finally felt horny. He really feels it straining in his pants. Trevor subtly stroked his bulge and whimpered when it was sensitive and throbbing.
Now he just needed you to… Cure this occurring illness that’s affecting his well-being.  
“Townley better not finish before I’m done with her.” He grumbled and straighten his posture when he saw you returning. Your hips swayed naturally and your eyes drawn him in. Trevor inhaled and saved himself from being too direct.
“I hope I wasn’t long.” You sat down beside him and adjusted your skirt so it covered your ass when sitting.
“You know…” He studied your facial features, “If I were your manager, I’d put you on the stage. You’re beautiful.”
A small gush of red covered your cheeks. He was still analysing you. It felt pressuring and when you made eye-contact, you’ve come to identify small details about him as well… Like that eyebrow scowl, lip scar, the jaunting cheekbones and sharp jawline. He was handsome. You never took strong insights since he scared you from the start, yet he was oddly attractive despite the rugged state of his hair, clothes, and just overall behaviour. He was nothing but a lost cause.
“Like what you see?” Trevor purred.
Cat caught your tongue? Badly. You instantly looked down in shame, trying to make an excuse for your staring.
“Don’t be shy, [y/n]. It’s not in your job contract to be shy to customers.” He cruelly giggled.
“I thought you were a friend, not a customer.”
“Ohhhh… There she is, the star of the show. Mmm, God, love me a friend in need…”
“Huh?” You blinked.
“Oh, you heard me. I ain’t gonna waste my precious time beating around the bush when I can be buried in your bush in no time, ay?” Trevor smirked.
Your heart rapidly increased. He was still staring at you. He was watching you fluster and squirm in your seat. This guy, this fucking guy. The audacity! You wanted to kick him out, you wanted to kick him out personally, you wanted to kick him into your own bedroom –
“Wooaahh, hello? Earth to [y/n]!”
He shook your shoulder, sitting closer than you remembered.
“Whatcha thinkin’ of?”
“Nothing, nothing.” You tried to dismiss.
“Oh yeah? You got me curious, dear. C’mere, I gotta a bit of an… Issue and you’re the gal for it.” He murmured in your ear, eyes darting around the room like he was hoping the area could clear off.
“What’s the issue?”
Trevor cackled, “Ah, it’s a bit of a sticky situation, my [y/n]. I came here for some fun, as every guy does, and… I didn’t really find any of these lovely ladies interesting.”
You nodded at his words.
“But, oh man… When I saw you, I developed this crazy itch, almost like an ache. It’s a real shame you ain’t dancing for customers because that could honestly be the cure. It is your duty to provide good customer care, right? It’s only a little bit of extra work, maybe I can use my buddies money to throw cash your way.”
You weren’t naive, by all means, you understood what he meant, but… Can you even accept? He was a stranger, a scary one. He left you bombarded with possibilities and “what ifs”.
“It ain’t rocket science, [y/n]. I’m just asking a gal like yourself to help relieve me.” He caught onto your train of thoughts and urged you to accept.
So you sighed, “That is a… Big request, Trevor.”
“You’ll enjoy it as much as I will. It’s mutual effort, sugar.”
“No, I know what you mean. I don’t know… It would be inappropriate.”
“For what? For who? No one gotta watch, only me,” He frowned, “We can go out back or in that dark corner. I’ve noticed no one goes around there, only security and they are out front, right?”
You nodded.
“So what’s the deal? C’mon… You’re a fuckin’ beauty. You don’t understand how refreshing it is to feel so turned on, girl. It’s been fuckin’ days since I’ve had a good jack off or fuck.”
He mentioned giving you extra cash, well, his friend. The pay here was already bad enough and rent was due, so you looked at him in the eye and just nodded.
“Is that a yes?” Trevor smiled.
“I suppose so. Yes. What if your friend comes back? You said he was out back, customers don’t stay there for lon – “
“He ain’t a customer. He’s pining for that fat stripper I was talkin’ about, Amanda. They are together. He usually stays in there for some time, don’t worry, hotstuff. Besides… It’s only a quickie, unless you feel God-like and I have to include a round 2… That’s when your break turns into a 45 minute fuckfest, ay?” God, he was intense with his directness.
“Ohh…” You blushed and glanced down at your hands that were anxiously shaking.
He took them into his own and caressed your palm. He had shuffled a bit closer now, his thigh touching yours.
“What do you look like without a skirt on, anyway?” Trevor whispered in your ear and smirked when you shivered.
He placed your hand down before teasingly fondling your leg, slowly approaching your thigh where the hem of your skirt lied. He tickled your skin until you squirmed.
“Trevor – “ A flustered laugh escaped your red lips.
“I know, I know. I want it too, but first… Can you tease me, sweetheart? I like my women to… Torment me, my dick’s hard but it can be harder…”
“Of course, Trevor.”
“That’s right. I’m easy to please, so do whatever your sexy heart desires.” He leaned back and made sure no one was around, signalling you to begin.
Even though he was the only one watching, it felt like a whole audience. You’d gulp at the thought of so many options open. You wondered what sort of “major” turn on he had, so you thought hard. Reminiscing about your conversation with him, his eyes were constantly peeling on your chest and skirt. It was the most safest option, you couldn’t do something outrageous, especially for a guy like him.
As you decided, you’d give him a little boob tease. Trevor was hunched against his seat with a giddy grin. He went dead silent as you slowly dragged down your shirt collar until the sight of your bra was on display. You’d stroke the top, occasionally moving the bra so a nipple would make an appearance.
He whispered to himself, “Ohh, yeah…” And held a hand over his clothed crotch.
Surprisingly, his low groans were delightful to hear. It encouraged you to carry on earning these non-direct praises. Soon, you had taken off your shirt, your bra draped around your arms, breasts fully on display. Teasing your own nipple, spitting on your left boob, licking whatever you could reach. Every time you looked up, he was intensely focussed. Trevor was aroused beyond belief.
“Keep going…” He’d slur with lust.
That left one other thing to tease with. Your pussy.
It was like you could hear him scream at you. Your fingers tangled with the hem of your skirt, slowly pulling it up to reveal your panties. Trevor had to restrain himself from ruining this foreplay. He wanted you to have fun before it was his turn to play. Yet when he watches you carefully rub your thumb through your underwear, he was already leaking pre-cum with anticipation.
“Fuckin’ finger yourself.” Growled his monotonal, grouchy voice.
“Oh…” You breathed and kicked off your panties. The table, from beside the booth, covered whatever you were beginning to do, so if anyone were to approach, you were only seen shirtless (which was fairly normal in a strip club).
“God, you got such a hot cunt.”
The sight of your pussy fascinated Trevor. You pestered your clit with a finger and gasped out a quiet moan. Now your body was shaking. The clit was so sensitive, so easy to make you break. He studied how your legs jerked whenever you applied more pressure to your finger, aching the poor sector of your pussy.
“Good… Good, nice…” He’d praise.
“Mhm, it feels so nice,” You whimpered to him, “Oh, God…”
“I wanna see you squirt, [y/n], then I’ll see what I can do.”
You wanted more compliments. While you were fingering your clit, an itchy urge to clench onto your breasts were huge. You couldn’t help but slump against the leather sit that touched your bare back. It was so smooth, it reminded you of his jacket. You imagined lying against him, the leather seat being his jacket, pretending that your finger was his. Even though he was beside you, the fantasy had made you finger yourself faster.
“Ohhhh…” Your breath was shaky and threatening to break.
“I love the way you touch your tits, baby.” Trevor grunted, his hand grinding his clothed erection hard.  
“Trevor, ah… Oh, I’m gonna – “
“You better cum on your fingers and lick it. C’mon, show me, I want see.”
“M’kay, baby.” You whined and carried on tormenting your clit until your orgasm was approaching. Arching your back against the leather seat, you cried his name and squirted all over your fingers and hand.
Trevor whistled at your intense climax. His eyes were deadly peeled on the finger that was smothered in cum. His mouth twitched into a sly smirk when you began licking it. He wanted to how good you liked the taste, waiting for you to lick the other fingers.
“Mmmm,” Slurping noises echoed from your booth, “So tasty…”
“Oh, I bet. Your pussy still wet, darling?”
You nodded at him.
“Yeeahhh… That’s what I like to hear. Alright, sugar, I want you to stand up and bend over.”
“Just bend over?”
Trevor giggled and grabbed your jaw with just one hand. He forced you to stare at him as he ordered you more.
“Just bend over on the table, sexy. I’ll take it from there. You don’t have to do a damn thing… Yeah?”
It was weird having a guy not want you to do all these fetishes, dance moves, poses. You were used to seeing strippers cope hard when pleasuring a man. You had a feeling that maybe Trevor wasn’t as bad as you thought.
Your hips were handled and he helped you stand up. Despite being naked, he made you feel comfortable by taking off his leather jacket and draping it around your shoulders. The material set you off. It cuddled your naked skin, pleasuring you without the meaning of penetration. You wanted to thank him but he had already bent you over, the sound of his flies being unzipped.
“I’m gonna make sure Mikey pays you double since you’re being such a good girl for me, sugar.” He praised and kissed the back of your neck before pushing his penis into your vagina from the back. A small whimper escaped his mouth, a sense of relief washing over now that he has you intimately.
“Oh!” You gasped.
“God, your pussy is so wet and loose, you horny little thing, ay? I’m gonna love you…” Trevor thrusted in and out repeatedly.
“Trevor! Ah!”
“Moan a little louder for me, baby, I love your voice.”
“But… But… Oh, fuck!” You cried and dropped your head as he rammed in and out of your pussy, his hips crashing against your ass.
“Keep your head up!” A hand tugged on your hair, throwing it back with a painful cry. Trevor kept his hand there, not letting go. You were moaning profoundly, all these new sensations (that men previously has never given you).
“It’s so good, It’s so good…”
“Ain’t that right?”
“Trevor, fuck… Ah!”
“Who would’ve thought that 20 minutes ago, you were refusing to sit with me.” He giggled and thrusted rapidly. The table shook as you were constantly being rammed against it with great force and power.
His leather jacket – that he made you wear – caused you great heat. You didn’t want to take it off, you refuse. Whenever it was slipping down your arm and back, you’d clench onto it like it would kill you to drop it. It smelt like him as well. Pure cigarettes, weed, booze, and sex.
You were familiar with the scent since the strip-joint was always intoxicated with it.
“You’re so hot wearing my jacket, [y/n]. So fuckin’ hot… God, I’m one lucky guy! Oh, mmm! So good! I just slide right into your slutty cunt, babe. I love it easy and sore.”
“I’m gonna cum! – “
“Easy, princess, easy… I don’t want my waitress done yet, from what I remember… You… Ah… You still got 10 minutes of your break.” He’d pant throughout his words, sometimes pausing to moan.
“Shit, shit…” You gripped onto the table with full intensions of leaving red marks on your hands. Whenever you attempted to lean forward, he pulled your hair back again.
“Keep your fuckin’ head up, [y/n]. I wanna see you moan.”
“I’m tryi – fuck…”
“This is gonna be the best orgasm of my…” Trevor inhaled sharply, “Mmmm, gonna cum, sugar. I’m gonna fuckin’ cum… Shit…”
“Faster, please!” You whined.
You could feel him smirk at your suggestion. Trevor leaned closer, his chest hitting your back, his thrusts growing more heavier and quicker. He was grunting with every hit of your cunt.
“Trevor… Trevor…”
“I’m gonna cum on the jacket and you better keep it, [y/n]. Fuckin’ wear it whenever I next come back here – “ Was the last thing he tried to say before heaving out an exhausting moan, his cock twitching. He managed to pull out in time to squirt his semen all on the leather jacket you wore. Even though it was landing on material, you felt the sensation of something liquid being poured.
“YES, AAHAH!” He moaned as his dick kept on throwing cum at your back. He had heard you whimper and shudder seconds after his ejaculation.
Trevor grew curious and leaned down, checking your pussy and noticing actual cum drip like water droplets. He smirked and lowered his head further before licking away the fluids from your cunt with his wet tongue.
It made you gasp his name, your legs trembling.
“You were right, your cum is fuckin’ tasty.” He’d remark before ascending from under you.
“Ahh…”
“Mhm, you deserve at least $50 for your service tonight, honey.” Trevor groaned and rubbed your naked stomach, kissing down your neck.
“When… When are you gonna come back?”
“Whenever my fuckwit of a bud decides to see his lady during workhours again. Probably sooner than later, [y/n]. And remember – “
“Keep the jacket on.” You weakly said with a smile, proud to have understood his request.
“Atta girl. Don’t wash it either. Wait until that cum stain dries out.” He nibbled your jaw.
“Thanks for letting me keep it…” You cuddled yourself, feeling the leather from it’s sleeves.
“Anything for a beautiful woman, and perfect waitress.”
Doors opened from opposite room, both of you peering over your shoulders. A guy, buzz-cut, jersey jacket, a hand-full of cash. You thought it was a regular customer before Trevor moved away from you.
“There he is, Mikey.”
“That’s your friend?”
“Indeed it is,” He kept a hand on your shoulder, “Stay here. I’ll get the cash.”
You watched Trevor stroll over to his friend before “taking” the load of cash from his hands. That’s an understatement. You cringed when he ignorantly stole it, ignoring Mikey’s cries.
“Enjoy yourself, sweetheart.” Proposed Trevor, shoving the money into your hands until he walked off again, without a goodbye.
Being left leaning on this wooden table with a sore pussy, lack of clothes, cum-stained leather jacket? Hmm, you can’t wait to see his face again.
“Trevor Philips…” You murmured to no one in general, “Well, at least I won’t forget him.” And continued with your shift.
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marydublinauthor · 8 months
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Random gt drabbles: Vanity
Characters: Markus & Jane
Safe for work • trade with @smol-smoggie
—————————
“Keep an eye on her,” Markus grunted, pushing a bronze coin to the bartender. “Drop a glass over her if she tries to run off.”
The other giant arched a brow, pocketing the money.Jane didn’t bother to protest any further than a nasty look at Markus, unable to muster up the energy to explain that she was too grateful for a cool beverage and food that didn’t come from the rations in the giant’s bag. The bar doubled as an inn on the second floor, and Jane found herself desperately hoping she’d have a soft quilt and pillow tonight - even if her captivity continued.
Markus exchanged a few more words with the man, booking a room. The bartender insisted on a steep discount. It was interesting, which people they came across that seemed to adore Markus or want him dead.
“I’ll be ten minutes,” Markus said, eying her with weariness that insulted Jane to her core. “Stay. Put.”
Jane flipped him off, glaring at his retreating back.
The reprieve from him was a relief - though she immediately noticed how other patrons looked at her more openly with Markus absent. Jane lowered her gaze and guzzled her water, requesting a human menu from the barkeep.
Her pumpkin soup had just arrived when she heard — or rather felt — Markus’ return. She’d recognize his heavy, self-assured gait anywhere. She looked up and felt her own body go rigid.
He’d cleaned himself up, and she barely recognized him. The unruly golden scruff he sported had been neatly trimmed, accentuating his strong jaw. It made his green eyes somehow look brightly — gods, they were practically sparkling in the firelight as he crossed the room. Something wet dribbled onto her chest. Jane looked down with a start, realizing her next sip of water had missed her mouth completely.
Markus was well aware of the dozen or so eyes tracking his approach — transformed from the grimy bouncer Hunter that had entered the establishment. One human walked into a wall, spilling his mug of ale. Markus caught the eye of a shy giant woman serving a corner table and smiled — the kind of smile that made one wish they’d been the one to arrive with him, or had a chance of leaving by his side.
The room held its breath as he selected his seat at the bar behind Jane.
“You stayed. Good girl,” he grunted. Then, he frowned. Jane was gaping slightly when he reached out and pinched her chin between a finger and thumb. She was pinned under his scrutiny. His touch was gentle. His skin smelled like the forest and something cleaner and spicier. It was like another giant had been traveling with her.
His thumb touched the water on her chin.
“You’re making a mess of yourself,” he murmured. She wondered if he was toying with her, knowing the power he wielded when he let his voice drop to such a low, resonate timbre.
“You smell good,” Jane replied, not bothering to hide her shock.
Markus’ expression twitched with humor. “You don’t have to sound so surprised.”
“Yes,” she said, pushing his hand away. Hating how she was acutely aware of the memory of those digits on her burning cheeks. “Yes, I think I do. You like the attention, don’t you?”
Markus leaned back in his seat, his muscles pulling at the sleeves of his simple shirt as he surveyed the room. “Doesn’t hurt anyone,” he drawled.
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horsesteak · 7 months
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“Now thank the good lordy above this absolute belter of a nook is still open in the wee hours of the day!”
The sudden blast of energy the newcomer radiated as his voice joyfully boomed through the tiny, cramped eatery was an immediate overdose for the overworked waitress. It was far too late (or rather, early, according to the man) for this sort of social interaction.
Check out Everything and Nothing by beans (with 6 e's and 6 a's) on AO3! Also check out my co-artist @gearbroth 's (!!!) art on their blog!
For the 2023 TF2 Big Bang! @tf2bigbang
~~~
See below for bonus sketches and infodump!
It's been a while since I did a big art piece like this. It was fun, and it got me experimenting with watercolour pencils for the first time. I'm still learning the craft, and as much as I want my first ever watercolour painting to be perfect, it'll have to do. I'm satisfied with my attempt this time.
Although I do wish I could capture the painting in a higher resolution; phone camera and scanner couldn't cut it, everything is still a bit blurry. Here's the best I can take on my phone:
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It's also the original colours, before digital shenanigans were done to it. The work of a sleep deprived art wizard waving his silly little magic wand tool to get everything to look nicer.
The original concept for this mini-comic came to me while I was sitting under a tree, halfheartedly trying to study for my two exams the next day. I quickly sketched this:
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I honestly like the lineart of this sketch better than the final. What could be better than demo's sparkley anime eyes?
I was excited I finally came up with an idea after being high and dry for weeks. Basically my mental state:
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I was going to have Demo stride in, burst through that door with exuberant energy that filled the Spy's shitty dead-end cafe. And also showcase his traditional Scottish garb, which let me tell you is a whole rabbithole that I eagerly leapt into while researching for cultural accuracy. (I tend rely on real life references alot. Trying to branch out to stylised drawing would be cool.)
What happened next were these little sketches on post-it notes. I draw on them first before committing paper because...it's fun :)
Also in this case, this is a comic, so I could rearrange the drawings how I liked, so this was actually goated.
In the second image, see another case of liking the lineart more than the final. I had half a mind to keep that sketch of Spy and paint over it, but that wasn't watercolour paper, so no... :(
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I was surprised how well the sketches turned out. Bloody hell, I'm an artistic genius! Now lets see how that translates to paint, eh? Well, you already know.
Some things to improve on, personally, is to make the lineart cleaner next time, so the paint doesn't mix with the pencil to make this weird greyish colour. Anatomy, always. Clothing folds is another big one. And finally, time management. Man, art is a passion, but damn does having too little time screw my art quality over. Well as they say, scarcity breeds innovation.
If you've made it this far, I am putting a virtual turtle (vurtle) in your hand, because turtles are cool, and you are too.
As a bonus bonus to this info-dump, have the original concept sketch while I was feeling out how to draw Demo in formal Scottish suit and kilt.
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THAT IS ALL.
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mickey-1996 · 2 days
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HIS STAR
(Zuko X Reader Series)
Part before this
2- Blue
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:—:
Tonight I sat on the deck gazing up at the moon in all its glory. It was well into the early morning when the boat was quiet and even the cleaners were asleep. I usually would be asleep as well, but tonight was Friday. What's so special about Friday? Friday was the one night a week that I spent moonbathing in peace. The one nice thing about this boat was that it was nowhere near the big cities I was used to being in. There was no light pollution to cover up the stars, even the ones farther away that appeared dimmer were there.
The moon helped my thoughts flow like the water. It helped me review my week and how I will try next week to finally crack my husband but it’s been three years and I’m starting to doubt it will ever happen.
Maybe it was because I’m from a water tribe, or maybe it’s because I’m a water bender (which he made me stop practicing the second we were married). Maybe it’s because I’m not pretty enough for him. Maybe’s were the only thing I had to figure things out.
My eyes started to grow heavy and right as I was about to finally resign to my bed, I heard a thud behind me. Immediately I froze. I had been caught, I had to run. I thought but at the same time, I wasn’t moving any muscle in my body. What do I do, What do I do, What do I do…
Eventually, I quickly got up and ran to my quarters, and locked the door.
:—:
The next morning I was filled with anxiety. My mind was filled with endless questions. Who was it? Will they tell Prince Zuko? Am I in trouble? How do I show my face? Does everyone know?
I knew I had to go out so I wasn’t suspicious and that’s exactly what I did.
I entered the dining area and there I saw both Zuko and Iroh already eating what the amazing kitchen staff had made earlier this morning. The energy in the room was a bit lighter this morning than usual when I walked in.
“Good morning” I greeted my husband and his uncle.
“A good morning it is, How did you sleep, princess?” Iroh kindly asked in his usual manner. All Zuko did was roll his eyes and grumble something.
“As good as one can sleep on a boat” I joked lightly heartedly. Zuko grumbled something again but no one really knew what he said “What about you?”
“Same as you. My back pain had woken me up in the early morning, but that’s how it gets when you grow old.”
So that’s what I heard? Maybe he had knocked something as he adjusted. I don’t think something so minor could be heard from outside. Still, I decided that’s what I heard as it was better if I stopped about worrying that.
The rest of our breakfast was peaceful if we ignored the noises of complaints from Zuko. Usually, he just left the room when I walked in but it seemed Iroh forced him to try and sit with his family for a meal.
When breakfast ended I did my usual morning stroll around the boat giving each worker i passed a nod of acknowledgment which many (Zuko) couldn’t waste their time doing. Then I ventured to the front of the boat to stare at the sea below with the occasional ice chunk. Zuko had decided to stick close to some more southern areas as he’d had word that this might be where the Avatar could be rebirthed as he thinks they will be from a water tribe. I tried to suggest that maybe they might be rebirthed in the northern hemisphere but he told me there couldn’t be distractions (me seeing my family)
I was adopted into the royal family when my mother, a close friend of the family, died of unknown circumstances. I was never a favorite of them, they called me charity work the whole time. My “Father” had thought maybe if he volunteered one of his daughters to marry the prince of the fire nation it would protect them from what was to soon come. But, the Fire Nation never agreed to this but there was always hope in my father’s mind that it worked. After this decision, they cut off contact with the whole world leaving me to fend for myself. I just wished Zuko would at least let me see my sister again as she was the only one there that treated me as family.
Later Iroh came out with his game followed by Zuko as he paced around. None of the staff were outside. It was peaceful and quiet. The only notices are the water passing and Zuko’s shoes clanging against the boat's metal floor.
The peace was interrupted when a beam of blue light appeared out of nowhere.
Zuko’s eyes widen and he stands there stiffly for a moment before for turning around to face Iroh, “Uncle, do you realize what this means?”
“I won’t get to finish my game.” he says in his calm manner before he places another chip down.
“It means my search is about to come to an end” I swear I heard the slightest emotion of joy in his voice. The one emotion I can never recall hearing. “That light came from an incredibly powerful source” he states pointing off into the distance where the light continues to shine. “It has to be him!”
“Or it’s just a celestial light” his uncle replies making a wide motion with his hand. “We’ve been down this road before, Prince Zuko. I don’t want you getting too excited over nothing,” He places another piece down “Please sit, why don’t you enjoy a cup of relaxing jasmine tea”
Zuko’s attitude does anything but relax. “I don’t need to relax, I need to capture the Avatar!” Zuko lifts his head from looking at his uncle to someone else to order “Helmsman, Head a course to the light!” He nods and does what he’s told.
The whole time I just stood by the railing watching it all in shock. My gaze is still trained on Zuko as he goes back to watching the beam of light.
“What are you looking at?” He spits.
:—:
I love you
Read more
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foxhopfics · 6 months
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First off thank u SO MUCH to everyone in that post going "tag me too pls!" Im writing this for u i love u :) it makes me happy that so many people were interested in this concept.
This fic will be available on AO3, but whenever a new chapter comes out I will post the new ao3 link with the chapter under a readmore cut.
Hope you guys enjoy the prologue!
Strontium Nitrate and a Colt .45 prologue
Warnings: family death
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A violent, cracking storm whirls in Eddie as he watches his ex-wife be lowered into the earth by 4 men on either side of her coffin. The flowers on the top shift precariously white, blue, yellow and red popping out against the dark wood grain, but they remain on as it clunks onto the ground. It shouldn't be so bright. The sun wasn't supposed to be shining the day he had to put his wife into the ground.
It's all he can do to just keep his hand firm on Christopher's shoulder to not cry, and scream, and run towards that fucking hole and dig her back up, begging her to come back to life in his arms. There were a million and one ways Eddie had expected Shannon to die one day. An accident by a stranger's hand hadn't been one of them. There were so many dangers he had to account for in his every day life, he was bound to slip up at one point. Bound to lose someone he cared about to a stupid mistake.
He's numb through the reception, fingers gripping the sides of his own sleeves so hard he has to peel them off from stiffness, and he's vacant through his family asking him question after question. He doesn't know how to answer if he's ok in front of people who are expecting him to be strong, expecting him to be the man of the house when his son just lost his mother, when he wishes more than anything he was lying in that coffin next to her.
When he can't stomach the pleasantries any longer, he takes Chris home. It's obvious the kid's had enough poking and prodding, and the silence is blessed. He checks the rearview mirror, and not five minutes after they pull out of the reception hall, Chris is drooling with his head against the window. The brunette smiles forlornly. He can see so much of Shannon in him, always had been able to, but now it felt like every trait of hers on him is more pronounced.
He wakes Chris up when they reach home, and Eddie has to stand in the doorway for a second to wait for his ears to adjust to the ringing quiet, when he's been around so much noise all day. Who knew funerals could be so loud. It definitely wasn't helped by the static rushing so loud in Eddie's ears he had to strain to hear other people talking at him. But now neither of them can bother to bring their voices above a whisper.
"Go get ready for bed, kiddo. I'll be there in a minute." He ushers Chris off to do his nightly chores and steps in to flick the kitchen light on. He sighs, leaning his elbows on the counter and his face into his hands. He musses his hair, and rubs down his face in an attempt to wipe the stress away. He doesn't know how long he'll continue to feel like he's floating, tether-less in space until the emotions of what happened catch up to him. He hopes Chris isn't in the vicinity when it happens.
There's time to figure this all out. Tomorrow. He hears the bathroom door open and close again as Chris shuffles off to his room. He takes his turn in the bathroom, not having enough energy for a full shower even though he feels like he needs it. Instead, he lets the water from the sink run so hot it scalds his finger when he tests it. He pulls out a washcloth from the drawer, soaks it and wrings it out, then wipes his face down of all the grime that doesn't exist. Nevertheless he feels cleaner and a tiny, minuscule weight slides off his shoulders. He finishes his business and shuffles his lead-weighted feet off to his son's bedroom.
Chris is already in his pyjamas and under the covers, his face red and puffy and struggling to keep his eyes open. Eddie sits himself by his legs on the edge of the bed, running a soothing hand through his boy's curls. Neither of them say anything, a lump forming in Eddie's throat and leaving no thoughts in his head when he tries to get something out.
Chris takes the first initiative. "Why did she have to go, daddy?" At first, Eddie doesn't have an answer that's acceptable to a 5 year old. Because bad things happen to good people. Because fuck him, apparently. Fuck him and her and everything he was trying to build for them and fuck God for taking it all away from him. He swallows hard, trying not to gag on his own tear-filled spit as he tries not to let it show on his face.
"Sometimes people do dumb things. And when people do dumb things, others get hurt because of their actions. And this time, someone did something dumb, and mommy was the one who got hurt by their actions." Chris nods sleepily, exhausted and upset. Eddie leans down to give him a kiss on his temple. "Get some sleep kiddo. Come and wake me up if you need anything, but we can figure out more tomorrow, ok?"
"Ok, love you daddy. Night night."
"Night night, buddy."
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Tag list: @aniilaff @watchyourbuck @diazlilgirl @weballingsad @whambamthankyousir @passthe5sauceplease @mrslectermoriarty @jeffthekilled
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shiny-jr · 1 year
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Praise be the seven, I guess. Finally, I got Beans Day Azul. He was one of the first SSRs I was missing, mostly because I never wished on his banner when he first came out because I had no idea how twst’s gacha system worked. I was worried I was going to have to save and do every achievement I could to collect more gems to wish for him, but he came home on the last key I had. It was a little over 20, no more than 30, I think that’s a win. 
Anyways, I’m a little bored, gonna try to write for Scarabia (damnation) again and probably post the sneak-peek after I check it. But for now, here are some random twst thoughts I have. Enjoy?
- Do y’all think Twisted Wonderland might be a little more peaceful say, compared to Yuu’s world, if they’re from Earth? Think about it. There’s a lot of issues with this world like climate change, wars, pollution, etc. But I imagine in a world filled with magic, some of those issues may not be as big of a deal. Like, I imagine that there’s magic or some magical machine that acts as a resource and energy source and is much cleaner than using gas or oil. 
- Kinda related to the last point, but do you think the reason the “wand” happens to actually be a pen is due to the fact that because magic creates the hazardous blot, the pen uses up that blot when they write? 
- Not gonna get into this one too much, but I wonder if some people will obsess over a certain species or kinds of people and commit cultural appropriation. Example: A regular human wearing fake ears and a tail then claiming they’re a real beastmen.
- Thinking about the existence of Noble Bell College and the whole City of Flowers. The interior of the school was decorated a lot like a church, so that makes me wonder if it was like a religious school because of the movie’s close association with religion. Does that mean there’s a religion akin to Christianity in Twisted Wonderland? What about other religions? How would that even work? 
- I wonder how languages work in twst, since it doesn’t appear like there’s a ton of countries (makes sense if I was right about the war thing, so there wouldn’t be a lot of countries with conflict). Also, if there normally is a language barrier, how is everyone able to communicate perfectly fine on campus? Is there like a commonly used language, or is it some magic that allows everyone to understand each other?
- Obviously the Queendom of Roses would probably be the equivalent of the U.K. and Island of Woe being Greece with it’s connection to Idia and Hercules, but what about other places? Would Briar Valley be like France then, because it’s connection to Sleeping Beauty being set in France? But it’s mostly fae, does that matter? What about the Country of Pyroxene (Shaftlands)? That’s the home of Vil, Cater, Jack, Epel, Trein, and Vargas. But Snow White is supposed to be German, and Cinderella with Beauty and the Beast were supposed to be French. So is Pyroxene French, German, or just a land based off Europe? Is the City of Flowers somewhere here? Don’t forget the Land of Scalding Sands where Kalim and Jamil are, it’s obviously supposed to be inspired by someplace in the Middle East, is it just based off the region and not a single nation? Similar to the Afterglow Savanna, is it just based off the continent of Africa and not a single nation? Many many questions. 
- Kinda back to the language thing, I wonder how accents would be like. Riddle? Definitely British, there’s not a doubt in my mind about that. Maybe Trey too, I can see him going either way. Everyone else in Heartslabyul though? I cannot imagine them with a British accent. Deuce? Upper US east coast kinda guy, definitely used to reply with “ya mutha” in his delinquent days. Ace? Southern US west coast, along with Cater too. Cater definitely has the valley accent, says “like” all the time. Others I like to imagine are Azul, Jade, and Floyd. They’re from the Coral Sea, but they mention it gets really really cold so of course I’m gonna imagine it as the Nordic Sea and they have this subtle Scandinavian accent, but since they probably practiced a lot to cover it. Another one is Vil, obviously I imagine him with a German accent because his last name is Schoenheit. A while ago I was unsure about Epel because he says the most out of pocket stuff in the weirdest ways sometimes, but because of the Harveston outfit I’ve seen on him, I’m gonna say he has like this Russian accent. Rook... starting to think Rook isn’t even French since apparently he’s from the Afterglow Savanna. 
- Something that I personally wonder a lot, are there Latinos in this world?? Like, c’mon. I saw the tacos in the cooking event, I know they’re hiding them somewhere. You can’t hide them forever. At least I know there’s Mexicans. But who knows? Maybe if they add more villains like they did with Rollo, they’ll add a character that’s probably Mexican like Ernesto De La Cruz (Coco) or Peruvian like Yzma and Kronk (Emperor’s New Groove). 
- Sometimes I wonder, they say that everyone knows about the seven. Like apparently in Twisted Wonderland they learn about them when they’re young, and they’re not seen as bad guys. So if that’s the case, do some people learn about the good guys? Do their beliefs kinda conflict and clash or does it conveniently not clash? That’s something I wondered when thinking if RSA has statues like NRC does. 
- RSA would treat Yuu right, just saying. It might not be fun all the time, but it’s probably better than some aspects of NRC.
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underground-boss-clay · 7 months
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📰
Words of Wyndon, 3rd of August, 2003
Unovan Business Tycoon Lands Galar's New Chairman in the Hospital
Written by Clishma Claver
Galar has hardly revealed its newest energy source for a day and already other regions are beginning to be up in arms about our region's beloved Wishing Stars! What is more, they are taking it out on our most beloved star, our new Chairman himself!
We start at the great Wyndon Technology Expo, where Macro Cosmos first revealed the Wishing Stars, and the wishes they truly could grant--a new source of energy, freeing us from clouded skies and bringing us the new battling convention of Dynamaxing! A tactic that sets our beloved Galar apart from all other regions!
But of course, every great innovation comes with critics and nay-sayers. And in the case of Dynamaxing, no one objected more loudly to our Chairman's stellar vision of the future than Clay Erden: Ground type Gym Leader of Unova, business tycoon and a stubborn advocate of mining. His objections echo sentiments from Gym Leader Ravenwood of Spikemuth City, claiming that this cleaner energy source would "bar cities who cannot or do not wish to use the Wishing Stars in Gym battles." Gym Leader Erden even went so far as to claim the Wishing Stars may be radioactive! An accusation that our esteemed Chairman was quick to dismiss.
But even when his cries fell on deaf ears, Clay Erden would not take no as an answer! During celebrations after the first presentation of Dynamaxing, Clay Erden attacked our beloved Chairman!! Fortunately, the Chairman's Copperajah senses her trainer was under attack and broke out of her own Ball to valiantly protect her trainer! A Gym Trainer from Turffield had a front seat view of the whole thing:
"Chairman Rose, gracious host that he is, was simply checking on all of his guests. He greets everyone, after all, and is so friendly to them, especially since they come from so far away. But then he went over to Mr. Clay's table and I heard such a noise! When I looked over, the Chairman was doubled over and coughing something terrible!"
As this clear attempt on the Chairman's life was in full view of the entire Galar League, the motion to ban Gym Leader Erden and his company, Driftveil Mining, from any future business in the region was near unanimous. The only objections came from Gym Leader Hemlock Ravenwood, who had this to say:
"The bloke was caught completely off guard by Rose. I was talking to him bout possibly helpin' Spikemuth--small as we are, he said we had potential with our shops an' crafts to make the city bigger--when the Chairman popped outta bloody nowhere behind Clay an' clapped a hand on his shoulder! Shook the chap good, little wonder he freaked the way he did."
As Gym Leader Erden is unfortunately not available to interview, we instead turned to his wife, Celia Erden, who had this to say about her husband's behavior:
"[My husband] gave the Chairman every warning about getting too close. Now that they're both in the hospital, you dare to vilify him for establishing his own personal space? Shove your ears up your ass, because that's clearly all you want to hear."
A very outspoken woman, especially in front of her own son! Still, what else can one expect from a region such as Unova!
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whisperprime · 1 year
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Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8
Hob isn’t certain what Dream has cooked up in that pretty little head of his when it comes to theories about what happened, but he can tell this response wasn’t even on his list.
“2189?”
He sounds carefully reserved. The fact that he doesn't outright disbelieve such a thing might be possible leaves the once mortal human with some serious questions.
But those are for a later time.
Right now, Hob nods. He had long since decided that if questioned about this, he would tell as much of the truth as he felt he could. He would explain the meeting with The Other Man, the seal, maybe even where and how he’d spent those 106 years.
He would not share that Dream had been the being who'd been originally summoned. Nor would he mention Dream’s death. There was no point in either. One hadn’t happened in this timeline. One hadn’t happened yet and dwelling on it would do no good. So.
Hob presses his hands into his thighs to still them. “I was sitting in The New Inn when a stranger approached me.” He smiles, some true amusement leaking in. “Seems to be the story of my life.”
Dream has narrowed his eyes at him, searching his face for any tells that this is all a fabrication. He won’t find one because Hob is all too serious. “In the year 2189?” When he finds no lie, that at the least the story teller believes this all to be true, Dream leans forward. “Are you proposing you've time traveled?”
The immortal human wishes he were more into science fiction, because this was already a bit over his head and trying to explain this to someone else feels like a task. He can still barely believe it all. And he lived it. “Sort of? He called it ‘destroying a timeline’?”
“He?”
Hob spreads his hands out, a bit helpless here. "Did I mention that story is filled with mysterious strangers who often fail to mention their names?"
His friend ignores the slight, raising his hand, but it seems more to stop himself from continuing this particular thread of inquiry. "I interrupted. Please begin again from this 'New Inn'."
Hearing the name of what had become such a dear place to them both said without shread warmth or recognition hurt like swallowing shards of glass. One felt like it had lodged in place in his chest and Hob has to resist the urge to rub at it.
"I initially told him I wanted to be alone, but then he knew my name - my real name," Hob still remembers the chill of hearing his name on the lips of someone other than his friend, especially at a time no one was supposed to know it. "He said it was important, so I gave him a chance. Better to know if I was going to have trouble and needed to leave, you know?"
Dream give a curt nod, showing he understands.
Hob swallows and wishes he'd remembered to bring a drink with him. "Then he started talking about how he shouldn't have existed, but did? And it was because of the premature end of the universe or something?" He pauses, then scoffs. His eyes drops to the table as he tries to remember as much of the encounter as he could. Wishes he'd understood what was said more. "I thought he was nuts, honestly, especially when he started talking about time travel, but. Well." He shrugs, again. "He had a compelling arguement."
Dream considers this. Hob is a little surprised he is even entertaining all of this. "What did he want you to change?"
Hob considers his options. "Have you heard of a Gabriel Richards?"
His friend gets a bit of a far away look to him and Hob wonders how well the whole knowing everyone thing actually works. It takes a moment or two, but Dream comes back with, "He is known for discovering gialium. His daughter discovered how to use it as a cleaner, more safe energy source to any previous resource."
"Huh." Hob has never heard of 'gialium' before, but a safer energy resource is always good. He isn't certain how this element not being discovered could possibly lead to the end of the universe, but then The Other Man had said it was a chain reaction sort of thing. He gestured to Dream to indicate that this was the answer and added, "He said Richards was supposed to do something but didn't. Now he has."
Dream raises an eyebrow, but doesn't look satisfied with this at all.
"Look, I don't know how to prove it any of this-" He breaks off, because he does know how to prove it. He's just unsure how this version of his friend will respond to such a Knowing if simply calling him lonely had been enough to send him running. When he hadn't had every bit of solitude he could ask for until it choked him before he came back.
"I've seen Death," Hob says, quotes. Can see Dream recognizing the reference and waiting to see where he's taking this.
Sees when he decides to bite. "Oh?"
Hob stares off just to the right of him, the memory still bright in his mind in the way a beloved photo that has been looked at time and again is remembered. He can still hear the laughter of his friends, even if he can't remember their faces. Still remembers this beautiful stranger, dressed all in black save his insanely large ruby, approaching their table. Remembers him glancing at someone, although by the time Hob had thought to look, they'd been gone.
"She was there with you the day we met." Hob catches the slight flicker of surprise out of the corner of his eye. Knows he's caught him this time. "It was her doing that granted me this long life. Her and your bet over if I would give up on this life if I had enough to drown in it." His eyes flicker back to meet Dream's eyes. Says, albeit not unkindly, "She was the one who bet I wouldn't."
Dream takes the hit. Accepts it and nods in acquiescence. He had indeed lost that bet. Several times over. Had only asked at the time of their parting those last few times because it had become part of their ritual.
Hob takes the victory and let's go of it along any pride he may have gained in it. "I met her a couple more times in that other timeline." He's unsure, but he thinks he might see some like alarm flash in those blue eyes, but it's gone before he can be sure. "Once at one of those horrid Ren Fests and again while she was mortal?" Hob pauses, wonders, "Is that something you all do? She made it sound like it was just a thing she does."
Dream leans back on the couch. He clearly finds that subject to be one he has difficulty with, going by how he sounds like he is choosing his words carefully. "Every one hundred years, for one day, she allows a part of her to become mortal and then meets it like any other mortal being. To better understand them when she comes to meet them."
That clocks with what she'd said. Figures she couldn't have just explained it like that. Or maybe she had and Hob and been a little too wigged out by spending time with a mortal Death of the Endless (or a part of her) to catch it. Either way.
Hob shifts, braces himself as if he were about to walk into a storm. "I know you're her little brother."
His friend-who-isn't-his-friend stares back at him out of eyes that were no longer blue, but rather as dark as the night sky, light only by galaxies no human has ever seen. "You would claim to known me, Hob Gadling?" Hob hears the words, you dare, from that night in 1889 as they lay between them, unspoken, but a heavy weight regardless. Did Hob dare to claim he knew any creature such as this one?
Yes. Hob dared. He'd dared that night and every day he'd held to his hope with near blind faith where perhaps he should not have.
"Aye, I know you." Hob meets that gaze, holds it, and names him, "Dream of the Endless."
Dream shudders, lightly, at the sound of his true name. All doubt has vanished from his expression, but what has it cost Hob to play this card?
Part 9
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odetoviscera · 1 year
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Liveblogging Mission: Impossible, I Guess
alright let’s start with FOR THE RECORD this is ENTIRELY the fault of @leupagus, who always does this to me, i swear to god i have been onboarded to more media by this villain (affectionate)’s posts than any other, so goddamnit it here we go MISSION: IMPOSSIBLE I GUESS
I GOT A PARAMOUNT+ SUBSCRIPTION FOR THIS AND BY GOD I’M GONNA BLOG ABOUT IT
warning: liveblogging below.
FIRST MOVIE. 1996. I AM SIX YEARS OLD. I DO NOT WATCH THIS FILM CONTEMPORANEOUSLY FOR OBVIOUS REASONS. i have a vague memory of watching it at some point in my teens, but remember almost nothing except a vague impression of like. A Claustrophobic Hallway. might not be from this movie. i’ll call it out if it’s real!
OH my god the paramount military drum roll is alternating left and right channel in my headphones. brain is flustered. inauspicious beginning.
(dead prostitute even less auspicious beginning.)
(undead prostitute/agent?)
ah I see they are spying on Russian Rocky Balboa and the (un)dead prostitute is a plant.
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OH Tom Cruise is the cleaner, I was wondering why he wasn’t in the room with all the surveillance equipment. hang on, did MI INVENT the Suspiciously Lifelike Plastic Mask Gag? also yes that was the least horrific screengrab i could manage.
so undead prostitute and Mr. Cruise clearly have Chemistry. I do sort of wish undead prostitute’s first lines had not been in a ridiculous baby voice lol.
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OPENING CREDITS. god, that was the logo? very b-average middle school powerpoint presentation. wait, tom cruise was a producer on this? on the FIRST one? damn, this really is the man’s anchor franchise.
these opening credits have TV Show vibes-- you know, “here’s a bunch of split-second clips of future episodes” except all for one movie. which is... oh right, movies used to be under 2 hours.
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is this how we did movies on flights back in the day? a stewardess walks around with a tray of cassettes like she’s shilling the in-flight snacks??? nowadays to pull this stunt you’d have to have a coded conversation with a chatbot and convince it you know which squares contain stop signs before it would deliver your self-destructing message.
also the contrasting formality of codewords and passphrases and top-secret clearances and shit (displayed where any passing passenger could see it walking to the bathroom MY GUY WHERE IS YOUR OPSEC)-- paired with the Voice On The Radio calling mr. phelps JIM several times is kind of wild. everything is simultaneously deadly serious national security threat and “two dads discussing their respective divorces at a barbeque”. also i can’t tell them apart yet and their hair is too similar, which of these lady agents is undead prostitute and is it claire, jim’s wife (which, btw, seems like a conflict of interest) bc if so the divorce thing may be more literal, tom “ethan hunt” cruise was getting pretty soft-boy handsy with her face
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mid-briefing YEP UNDEAD PROSTITUTE IS THE WIFE, also in person it’s very clear how much younger she is than jim, wonder how that relationship came about. also also SEEDS OF SUSPICION sown about why jim is always swanning off on “recruiting assignments” and the team doesn’t know where he is during these times. also maybe i’m paranoid I DID READ THE POSTS @leupagus
"if they're exposed, they'll be executed." bit of a buzzkill there jim
so much intra-team flirting! you’d think that would be counter-regulations but i guess jim is married to one of his operatives so the rules must be pretty lax lol
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okay no mr. hacker/the team q making ethan a stick of EXPLOSIVE GUM when ethan has been chewing gum this ENTIRE set of scenes during the planning of the op-- that is a piss-take, lol. that is a loving piss-take. this is “here you dumb bastard i made something in your colour” energy. JUST DON’T CHEW IT. i’m love them. i know they die and i will be upset about it.
the first-person perspective is fascinating film-making. (obviously i, obsessive video game nerd, am making immediate parallels to video games that won’t come out for another half decade or so, lol.) this feels so disjointed and claustrophobic, though-- it’s a narrower FOV than you usually see in a first-person perspective, and we don’t have any of his peripheral vision. being trapped in ethan’s head (or more correctly, i suppose, in the camera on his glasses) seeing only what’s in his field of vision for these scenes is making me overanalyze everything lol. i feel like half the guests are staring at him.
oop, meanwhile jack is fighting elevators. i worry for my boy. i have known him five minutes. i should not have learned he had a name other than “mr. hacker” now i’m invested.
dslkfhas;ldkfhas;lkh stop roasting him ethan he’s in an elevator shaft! on a 1996 laptop!
elevator/spy tetris
oh my god this mark had a FLOPPY DISK on his person. the 90s were insane.
The Flirting Continues
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ah, the classic Lover’s Embrace Distraction. kind of interesting to see this done with sarah, who is NOT ethan's flirtatious love interest (that's claire; sarah has something maybe going somewhere someday with jack, hypothetically) honestly it kind of reinforces that this is very much just an "it's part of my day job" move for them, i like it. and they both move into it very fluidly, without discussion or hesitation-- it's a standard play.
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oh noooo jack. “i don’t have control” says jim, man who just had control. HMM I HAVE DOUBTS YOU ASSHOLE. :(((
…hang on, is the drunk laughing couple the pair i clocked staring at ethan earlier in the night or am i hallucinating bc i can’t tell actors apart
ooooh, ethan’s going off book. admittedly the book is bad but still, bad form.
“they’re covering this frequency, cut all radio communication” mmkay except what’s your evidence of that, bc we’ve seen nothing to indicate that’s the case-- jack was killed where he was supposed to be during the whole op, and you could have been spotted and shadowed from the safehouse. none of that had to be gleaned from radio communications
Convenient Les Miz River Death. also the angle on that gun ethan saw in his little camera watch was pretty sus, but he's under a lot of stress, so i won't hold it against him for not noticing.
ethan, babe, how you gonna call an abort right after ignoring an abort, of course she’s not listening to you. (however, heartbreaking: the tiny little “god!” when he takes off running back to sarah. guy is having the worst night of his life and it’s just getting started.)
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WELL THERE GOES CLAIRE AND HANNAH
sarah's still following the mark so i assume she was too far away to hear that. and i KNEW there was something shifty with the drunk couple
damn the mark is getting got too. aaaand finally sarah. full house.
EVERYBODY got fucked on this op
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kdfjal;skdhf;lakh god idk if i’m even supposed to trust the nice calm voice on the phone (Kittridge) like my dude ethan is focused on relaying the vital intel (little bit of shouting but the circumstances are, admittedly, DIRE AS FUCK) and you’re using your soothing kindergarten voice.
“one hour, i’ll be there myself” BITCH? HOW? YES ETHAN EXACTLY THE FUCK, WHY IS THIS GUY IN PRAGUE??? SUSPICIONS RAISED AGAIN
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aquarium diner is kind of out of place/distinctive here. like, cool location, but damn, not what i’d call inconspicuous. 
i think the shock is setting in, ethan’s walking like he’s half-dead already and so far the worst that’s happened to him physically is Running A Lot.
oooh, ethan spotted something. OH OKAY the drunk pair and the embassy pair were two differently suspicious pairs lol.
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extreme dutch angle on kittridge. spooky boy. not the first dutch angle we've seen so far, even in this scene, but definitely the one i've noticed the most.
oof. whole team died for Nothing. ethan’s resistance to aborting the mission was AT LEAST partly predicated on the threat that had been presented-- literally dozens, if not hundreds, of lives directly in the crosshairs if that list got out. and it’s fucking. Nothing. and as far as ethan can possibly know at this point, the only reason the WHOLE team got wiped out is that he ignored the abort. sarah, at least, he could have hypothetically saved by keeping her with him instead of sending her after the mark.
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“dying slowly in america, after all, can be a very expensive proposition.” BITCH. MURDER HIM ETHAN. SET THIS WHOLE PLACE ON FIRE. anyway, this was in 1996, nice to see capitalism hasn’t improved at all in nearly thirty years. doing great. oh the explosive gum, YES BABE, jack’s last gift to you! blow a bitch up!
“kittridge, you’ve never seen me very upset” ooooh the VENOM. ethan has been kind of a kitten so far-- soft boy, very few stunts actually! kind of a jokes boy! he’s a PERFORMANCE ARTIST, his role has been Wear The Mask and play a specific part. he is, in leverage terms, the SOPHIE, not the eliot. we have not actually seen a SINGLE instance of real violence from him yet-- even taking out Russian Rocky Balboa was with a drugged drink that sarah delivered.
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alright admittedly blowing up the aquarium was probably the better move but i would have liked to see kittridge get it in the face
also holy FUCK ethan can run
now here's a logistical question: does this count as an Ethan Stunt? bc so far he hasn't done any of the characteristic No One Else Would Do This shit that is famously his hallmark. i don't think this does count, honestly-- it's fairly low stakes by the standards of an Ethan Stunt, and although obviously the fish are gonna be upset about it, the overall risk to ethan himself is not high. worst case scenario if he couldn't outrun the flood was getting arrested. i'm gonna call this Typical Spy Nonsense unless someone can convince me otherwise.
listen i know all this counter-espionage shit like crunching the lightbulb to make a broken glass noise trap and unscrewing the hall light is shit he was taught in Spy School however i would like to forward that my IMMEDIATE thought whenever he does something clever is just OH MY BOY IS SO SMART
i have trauma-bonded with ethan hunt. it took exactly half an hour. goddamn it, i get it now @leupagus
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And Now He Has A Gun, let’s see if he uses it.
okay the emergency money not being in the safehouse is another dick move by jim.
job 314… job 3:14?
OH MY GOD IT IS
seriously is this what the internet was like in 1996. i was an aol kid, i missed the usenet era, but i also don’t trust hollywood to know what the internet was like lol
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MY BOY IS SO SMART
although doing all this in what must be the compromised safe house maybe is less so
here begin the PTSD Nightmares
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oh shit! claire’s not dead! alright maybe the gun wasn’t such a great addition to the inventory lol although i’ll given ethan points for what looks, to my very untrained eyes, like a pretty solid firing posture. maybe got his elbows locked a little but he’s Stressed.
the Aggressively Sexual Frisking i could do without. very 90s though lol, and i will forgive ethan’s behaviour bc he’s having a Very bad night and claire’s shock isn’t helping with his justifiable paranoia. STILL. BE BETTER.
claire still using that baby voice. ma’am please speak with your whole chest, you sound like a toddler, i can’t take you seriously.
Spy Shenanigans ahead. back in ethan’s limited POV for a bit! i like the framing on the pickup car responding to the match.
ooh, max is a maxine.
dutch angle on max. they like that technique a lot. and a very tight framing. 
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fkjha;djfh;lksh MA’AM. you haven’t even CLEANED THE BLOOD OFF, you’re gonna gunk up your disk reader
imf sure is efficient-- okay no i love the cleaning lady just “fuck it, i keep vacuuming”
Fucking Kittridge. this man has the most smarmy affect upon this earth outside of an actual british butler in a murder mystery. also what looks like an extremely fake tan. hate his guts. wish him death.
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ethan has been 100% Manic Grin at max since the mask came off and i am not sure how much of that is a front and how much is ethan running at 100% capacity on 10% fuel. let this man have a nap.
lol max likes him. he’s Charmed her. “aggressive, but playful” is her type lol.
god are claire and ethan STILL staying in the safehouse? i mean I GUESS at this point imf must not know the location but this still seems dicey.
i get the impression claire actually loved jim, which makes this whole setup Wild. The Chemistry is there with her and ethan, but clearly nothing has actually come of it at this point, and if/when it does, it will be totally justifiable bc she is, to her knowledge, A WIDOW. really played yourself there, jimbo.
oooh, they’re gonna hook up with other disavowed ex-spies. …however, i will observe that it seems ULTRA FUCKING STUPID to keep a list of the people you’ve explicitly decided to cut ties with??? isn’t the point of disavowing/burning an agent that they can’t be legally tied to your organization? imf competency varying wildly lol
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damn, they’re getting fucking leon on the team lol. hang on i have to google something-- yes, leon: the professional came out two years before mission impossible, this joke works.
ethan as mission planner is Much ballsier than he was as a point man/Face lol
oh my god luther’s Hacker Names lol
luther the fact that you know this much about the system already suggests you’ve thought about it lol
ethan: i’m hiring you for an impossible job the team: no such thing ethan:  Let Me Explain
luther looks like his hopes and dreams are crashing down around his ears during this security breakdown lol
Theme Music!
we love an Emergency Services Scam. big bulky costume and everybody’s in too much of a panic to think too clearly.
oop, krieger’s a loose cannon, lol. (leon!) guess ethan is still hoping to get his job back, doesn’t want to Kill Coworkers. understandable. holding out hope for an exception being made for kittridge.
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i wondered if this vent crawl might count as the first proper Ethan Stunt, but krieger’s doing it with him, so i think it’s still on the side of “a comparatively sane operative would do this”.
sidebar, tom cruise in this glasses headset getup is giving me farscape john crichton vibes, which is baffling given john crichton does not wear glasses.
oh we TRAP the laser instead of turning it off. Clever.
krieger sneeze into your ELBOW my guy.
and this is the iconic Hanging From The Ceiling Scene! oh holy shit i didn’t realize krieger was there to HOLD ETHAN’S BODY WEIGHT, damn.
excellent treatment of the tension with the silent shot and only luther’s whispered warnings. ethan is remaining REMARKABLY phlegmatic.
holy shit this guy would be the most annoying officemate. i mean i know he’s been poisoned but still. get thee to a cubicle nowhere near me.
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that flip! my boy is BALLETIC
OOOOH NO WHY ARE THERE MICE IN THE VENTS OF THIS SUPER SECURE AGENCY. MOUSE THEY GOT LASERS HERE WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING
df;lakddf;laklsh;lk aaaand the slip
excellent handling of the tension again
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legit how did ethan get his hand into position for this catch with so little space
KRIEGER YOU DUMB BITCH SECURE YOUR KNIFE
and now there actually is an evacuation! lol. back to the safehouse.
krieger is gonna be a problem if you don’t communicate, ethan. ah, yes, and here we see him proving me right. we know a bastard when we see one.
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MY BOY. IS SO. SMART.
i’ll be surprised if we keep working with krieger lol he doesn’t seem like he takes an insult well
OH HO. DRAKE HOTEL IN THE GIDEON BIBLE. the penny drops.
oh, i think ethan’s suspicious of claire again. jim’s wife, after all.
oop! kiss! but is it legit or is it to throw him off his game?
man, no one play poker with ethan hunt.
“i’m not gonna let this get out in the open.” luther for best boy
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oh my god kittridge you fuckwit
seriously ethan do a murder you’ve earned it
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holy shit is that jim in the phone booth next to ethan???
IT IS
blaming kittridge. couldn’t throw a nicer asshole under the bus, lol
oh excellent touch with ethan envisioning it with the knowledge that it’s actually jim. doesn’t fall for it for a second, but plays along, and lets the audience in on it. we get to see exactly how smart ethan is, without a doubt, but jim doesn’t get clued in. smart, smart movie.
oh shit! krieger was the assassin on the op! i missed that completely
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and now ethan's debating claire’s involvement with himself.
my poor boy looks like he’s gonna have a breakdown right here at the table
“you got a lousy marriage and 62 grand a year” first of all, bitch, your wife is extravagantly attractive and doesn’t seem to be an idiot or an asshole, your marriage is probably fine; second of all, in the year of any lord 2023, NEVERMIND in 1996 money, i would kill for 62 grand a year. shut the fuck up.
okay, jim keeping the secret from claire PROBABLY clears her
love ethan continuing to write to max with bible verses bc she thought it was fun the first time lol
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tasteful fade to black lol
honestly why are they bothering with having the shade pulled down to hide jim’s face lol
dlfkahsd;lkfhas;lk max enjoys ethan SO MUCH lol. i am undecided on whether she wants him carnally but i suspect she wouldn’t complain if he suggested it
oh no! overly helpful train attendant gave the game away!
oooh, max is playing both sides. unsurprising lol
i’m here for claire’s Itty Bitty Skirt.
oh shit! she DOES know about jim! damn it claire, i believed in you! fortunately ethan is more suspicious than me lol
“having tasted the goods” fucking classy, jim
eyyyy! foiled by the camera glasses! can’t believe i have to be team kittridge. offensive.
well, there goes claire. and ethan still isn’t quite at full Action Man, so he gets the shit knocked out of him.
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okay i think ethan climbing the back of a bullet train with no assistive devices is his actual first Ethan Stunt. this is where this shit starts to get beyond “spy shenanigans” and into “i have no time to plan and no one else to rely on, so my improvisation is the WILDEST SHIT YOU’VE EVER IMAGINED”
fkha;ldkfha;lskhdl;kh he never did actually use that gun outside of pointing it at claire Once or perform any other acts of violence, so ethan’s first confirmed attempted murder is tying a helicopter to a train to fuck kreiger. of course.
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the gum again! ethan did jack give you a whole PACK of that. also i’d like to point out that, while the circumstances are certainly warranting it-- he hasn’t got his hands free, he’s holding on to a helicopter-- when jack first presents ethan with the explosive gum, ethan handles it like it is a Very Delicate Grenade, and now he’s pulling it out of the packaging with his teeth. we are definitely past ethan caring much about his personal safety.
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ethan legit came like. two inches from death.
wonder if luther’s gonna get reinstated for his part in this stunt
sounds like yes!
aaaand the chatbot stewardess is back and not taking no for an answer. guess ethan doesn't get to retire after all.
-----
ALRIGHT. LIVEBLOG COMPLETE. Claustrophobic Hallway never appeared, although there was a generally claustrophobic feeling to the whole film due to the very tight shots sometimes. i was haunted by the vague sense that i should know more about this movie than i did, lol.
in summary: ethan hunt is such a good boy and he is having SUCH A BAD TIME. literally at the end of his harrowing revenge/name-clearing adventure he just gets on a plane to england-- maybe back to those london apartments he liked? seems like it would have bad memories now, which has some interesting implications for how ethan deals with his traumas, namely “go roll around in them for a while and see if they start to feel comfortable instead of horrifying”. he’s so disillusioned with the whole pack of them that the tells luther he can’t imagine why he’d be doing it if he went back, and promises to remember luther as “disreputable”.
something i noticed while going back to get some screengrabs to illustrate a few of these points-- in the team briefing, the whole team is never framed together around the table. in fact, i believe this is the only time we’ll even see them all in the same frame. in the opening shots, sarah is on the other side of the room, pulling the shade down. claire is sitting next to ethan, and ALWAYS finds a way to be very close to ethan outside of the actual operations, which leads me to wonder how much of the Chemistry™ was being manufactured even this early on (and, by extension, earlier than the film shows us.) also poor hannah gets almost no job on this op and almost no characterization in this movie. they could have cut her out entirely and nothing would have been lost.
also in retrospect there were more clues about claire’s culpability-- she tells ethan later (during the Aggressively Sexual Frisking) that she walked away when the abort was called, but we SAW HER sitting in the car, watching ethan speedwalk past her with a frown, after she said she had already complied with that order. ethan says this when he's holding her at gunpoint, and she never actually produces a compelling explanation, she just kind of hustles us all past that by getting teary-eyed! excellent manipulation! she already knew the plan at that point, and presumably if ethan had complied with the command to abort the mission, he would have been somewhere else that claire and jim had predicted he’d be for their frame job to work. possibly claire’s Wiles would have come into things at some point there, instead of the 4am Frisk that ended up happening.
also also not to be "ethan hunt is feminine-coded" on main, but ethan hunt has quite a few Cinematically Feminine traits, especially in this action spy genre. he is the subject of violence, not the performer of it. he runs AWAY from confrontations instead of engaging them. his most successful grifts are Conversations and Disguises, and he mostly uses those tools to de-escalate. claire tells him how many bullets he has for his TWO GUNS at one point, and he never fires a single one. he is blind-folded, taken to the villain's lair, charms the villain with his good looks and witty banter. his one moment of really Macho Aggression is in a panic after a PTSD nightmare, is ultimately defused, and never recurs. will be interested to see how this develops in further films.
10/10, if ethan hunt was a dog he would be a border collie.
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alsoanyways · 12 hours
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@transgender-scout @1ight wait fuck now i have to compile them okay okay okay i have a feeling this is gonna get long so I'm gonna put it under a cut haha but for real thank you for asking!!
First things first! This is how I imagine the flock is able to disguise themselves. There's no going undercover at an actual school for them, but I don't think anyone's looking twice at a bulky coat, especially if it's set in the future. Not too far in the future though, still in the 21st century. I have no ideas for a plot restructuring or anything, I never read past Nevermore and I barely remember anything past the fourth book, so most of my headcanons are character dynamics and such. I do have some that aren't focused on the flock but not many. Anyways.
(also idk if most of this can even be considered headcanon bc its basically fanfic at this point)
A couple things I should've added to the design post are Toto's Total’s nonexistence (I'm sorry if you like him but I do not lmao) and the fact that their hair is feathers. Like those very fine and very long feathers that roosters get. The flock also doesn't develop superpowers.
In my version of things, there's a small town close-ish to the E shaped house. Far enough that no one in town is gonna drop by for a visit, but close enough to fly down to for some groceries, which they'd do after Jeb left and until the money was gone. I think he would've taught them how to forage for things and that's how they get by since then.
Max (21) isn't The Leader TM either, I think leadership is shared more with Fang/Friday and Iggy. She likes volleyball and usually the one to go foraging. She's never thought about it but if she did, she'd probably consider herself agender.
Fang/Friday (22) gets his name from a Friday the 13th DVD cover, Jeb thinks he wants to be called Jason when he first points to it. He used to help Nudge/Dora and Angel with their hair when they were little and still does occasionally. He likes to draw and he's the go-to when someone needs to be comforted. There's no way in hell I would let him be anything less than bisexual.
Iggy (20) is the one that probably hears Friday's voice the most. He was also taught braille and Jeb got them a labeling machine. He's still the best cook and he's very protective over the vinyls/tapes/cds in the house. He mourns the loss of them when they have to flee the house, but he is excited to finally have access to new music. He's also gay. Because I said so.
Nudge/Dora (17) still wishes she could live a normal life, but has accepted that it's just not a possibility. She clings to "Dorothy" when she learns it. Being talkative and into fashion are still part of her character, but now she also loves bugs. She tags along when Max goes foraging so she can try and get pictures of any new bugs she hasn't seen before. Friday often gets to hear which bugs and what they were doing when they're sketching together.
Gazzy/Gizmo (14) gets his name when he watches the Gremlins movie for two months straight and starts mimicking the mogwai noises. He almost kills everyone when he mixes a couple cleaners from under the kitchen sink. He's quickly enamored with the chemistry books he's given afterwards. Like any other teenage boy, he likes video games and has too much energy for his own good. Max offers to race him when he's particularly amped.
Angel (11) is the only one out of the group that wasn't experimented on and she doesn't get the protectiveness or why they never go anywhere. She likes sitcoms and never refuses an offer to forage with Max. She also took a liking to helping Iggy cook things. She was very quick to tell people she wasn't a boy once she had the vocabulary.
Ari (15) has chronic pain. Being turned to goo and rebuilt into something different will do that to you. It doesn't get better the second time. Nor the third. He used to live in the E shaped house, before Jeb brought Gizmo, back when he was a regular kid. He's always liked animals, caring for them. He wanted to be a farmer or something when he grew up. After he joins the flock, he and Gizmo are fast friends. (Watching him and Gizmo dick around is what makes Friday realize that he really is just a kid.)
Maya/Em (21, kinda) my identity issues queen!! Cloning keeps the original memories intact and then they were further messed with to ensure her allegiance. She has a hard time coming to terms with that, with not being Max, not being who she thought she was. Her friends aren't her friends, she didn't watch Gizmo and Angel grow up, she didn't go to Friday after another nightmare, or call Dora to come catch a spider. That wasn't her. Having time away from them before she joins the flock helps. She renames herself Em during that time, distinct enough from Max but not removed from it completely. She learns that she likes cooking and she discovers cheerleading. She thinks she'd like that if she got the chance to participate. She's also aroace. She wants nothing to do with any of that.
Dylan (21) sticks closest to Em, but he eventually grows close to Iggy as well. They share a soaring/gliding wing shape and Iggy is grateful to have someone who can fly as long as he can (recreational flying is always cut short in his opinion, because the others have to work harder to stay airborne and get tired). Dylan likes to tinker around with motors and mechanisms, trying to get them to work again or building them from the ground up. Not that he has an abundance of opportunities to do that, but being able to fix a busted car comes in handy. He's one of them gays that can drive.
Lastly, I do have ideas on Erasers and different classes of them and their usages but jesus christ this did in fact get very long and I need to go eat something lmao so that'll have to be a separate post for another time.
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beedreamscape · 1 month
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Zerxus gets caught in morbid conversations.
~ 2.1k words. This takes place pre loquaerryn marriage (yes, they're my measure of time, sue me).
CW for conversation of death and grief.
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Zerxus awakes as he feels a stir on the bed. Zerxus calls it instinct, Evandrin calls it a bad habit.
There's an orange glow permeating the darkness and soft grunts from muscles stretching in the air.
He turns to see Evandrin's sitting on the side of the bed with his back to him, still in his sleeping shirt and underwear. Beside where the lampshade sits, on the clock, Zerxus can see it's still a quarter to four.
Zerxus lifts his head from the pillow. "Is there scouting duty today?"
Evandrin turns, face and hair still tousled from sleep. "Morning, darling, go back to sleep, sorry for waking you."
"I would still say good night." Zerxus pulls on the hem of his shirt lazily. "I thought scouting wasn't for another three weeks."
"And you're right, this is something else." Evandrin gets up against his husband's pull and starts putting his trousers on. "One of my soldiers just died, young Hector, and he has no family here in Avalir so I need to sign his death certificate."
"Isn't a cleric that does that?"
He rubs his eye. "Sorry. It's not the certificate, it's a lease for the Conversion."
Zexus sits up. "What conversion?"
Some realization comes Evandrin's eyes before softening. "Oh, I never told you, did I? I don't think you had the chance to see it either... It's how we get rid of bodies in Avalir. Haven't you noticed we have no cemeteries here?"
"Not really. You don't just bury people?"
Evandrin doesn't bother taking his sleeping shirt off, shoving the hem into his pants before taking a dress coat from the rack.
"No, there wouldn't be enough land to bury every dead. And if you consider the funeral rites of the elves who care to perform them, there wouldn't be a need for them anyway. Not to mention they live way too long."
"And what is this conversion?"
"They convert whatever's left of ether inside your body into usable energy. Also from the combustion of it. That's where the name comes from. It feeds the city like a corpse would feed the earth... except way faster and cleaner."
"Sounds very... functional."
"I know." He sits on the bed again and holds Zerxus' hand. "But you can always let someone know if you want it to have it done to your body or not, poor Hector didn't have time or who to tell that so he goes straight into conversion."
With his free hand, Zerxus brushes Evandrin's long hair into better shape. "You can let Tempus eat me before when the time comes."
"Thanks, dear. What if he doesn't find you tasty enough?"
"Tell him to pick me up and drop me in the ocean." He makes the gestures with his hand. "From really high so everyone can see the impact and the sea creatures may eat what's left."
"I'll have it arranged when the time comes. It's more creative than my wish for a pyre on the ocean. It's kinda how my mother chose to go, burnt in a pyre with dragon fire."
"You had a dragon at her funeral?"
He nods. "It was actually a wyvern and it was a trained but it served its purpose. Dad was placed in a burial cave since he had a bit of dwarvish blood, it was what my grandma wanted."
He brings Evandrin's hand to his lips for a kiss. "Thanks for sharing. I wish I could go with you."
"You wouldn't see anything interesting if you did. It all happens in closed chambers bellow city level."
"I don't want to see anything I just didn't want you to go by yourself."
"Don't worry, I've been through my people dying on me before, it's just sad he went so young." He opens a smile and ruffles Zerxus' hair. "Get back to sleep, my lil' paladin."
"I think I'll go check on our tiny little fighter."
"You go do that, just don't scare him this time."
He starts getting up from the bed. "I said it wasn't on purpose."
"I know, but you gotta understand that a six-foot-tall man standing ominously in the dark is terrifying for a little boy."
"I'll turn on the lamp this time."
"Good." He gives Zerxus a little peck. "I won't be long."
"Please don't let them turn you into city juice as well."
He can hear Evandrin's laugh in the corridor. "I won't make any promises."
"Since when has Avalir done this Conversion thing? For the dead?"
He wasn't really interested in getting into this subject, much less with her, he assumes neither is she, but he rarely got the chance to sit down with Laerryn, let alone just the two of them, so he wouldn't get another chance to satiate his curiosity and it's been days since it started plaguing his mind.
A new Marquesian-themed restaurant had opened and they were the only two in their friend group who curiously shared a true appreciation for its foreign cuisine.
She doesn't refrain from shoving a forkful of sillgoat loin chop into her mouth before speaking. "Oh... I guess since the beginning, I'm not sure if we were the ones to come up with it or some other flying city."
"Can't you just disintegrate the body? One spell and poof, it's gone."
"We could but what a waste of precious ether that'd be. You see a single corpse doesn't hold much ether, but when you amount to several deaths a year then it means something. It's not even one and a half percent of the total energy stored in the city but when every drop counts, it's something."
He looks down at his plate, empty with stains of dark red sauce on the perimeter. He always finishes eating first no matter who he's eating with, a mixture of anxiety and hunger only a man his size has. He catches himself staring at her glass of white wine.
"Feels very utilitarian."
"You just haven't been in Avalir long enough. We are a flying city, every handful of resources counts, there are people," she points at herself, "that work to manage that. On top of managing who manages it."
"I know, but it's people we're talking about. Their bodies."
"What do you think I'm talking about? They're just bodies, I've seen them rot before. People are here, living, doing shit. The only person buried in Avalir is our most special boy, Imyr, in his very special mausoleum, which I consider such a waste. Don't tell Patia I said that."
"Why a waste?"
"The older wizards, I'm talking elves, gnomes, dwarves, the big boys, store immense amounts of ether within them. Sorcerers? You could turn the lucky bastards into massive bombs with the right calculations."
"Suddenly I'm more inclined towards it."
She gives him a playful kick under the table.
"But that's necromancers and transmutators playground, minutia and too many physiological factors to take in. I prefer working with big numbers and machines. Despite that, it's a respectable representation of wizards and artificers working together."
"Is that how you want to be taken care of?"
"I think so. However, I would like to be stored into something like a necklace or a sword until someday the yielder has to use me to kill some legendary enemy before floating back into the leylines. But honestly, I'll take what I can get, I'll be dead anyway."
He stares at her chew in amusement, still puzzled at how the woman before him and his husband are the best of friends. "Avalirians have strange death rituals."
"You need to meet the Aeorians then, heard rumors of them preserving the bodies for a really long time."
"For what?"
"How am I supposed to know? Probably something nefarious. As I said, rumours, I'm sure you'll get more from Loquatius or Patia than me."
"I think I've had enough of the subject for now."
She cleans her mouth with a napkin. "I don't personally like talking about death either. Maybe it's an elf thing... but I've had to learn to deal with it since I've befriended so many humans and... other short-living folks."
He never got truly offended by 'human' but something in the way she says it never sat comfortably inside his skull, yet he lets it slip with her. "Who else?"
She thinks for a moment and he can't interpret what passes behind her eyes. "Everyone except Patia."
"Even Van?"
She nods, takes a sip of her wine. "Half-elves don't live a quarter of full elves, some can but most don't. When I think of loss, it's the only time I grow any respect for necromancers, I too have a hard time letting things go."
"I used to think I was very detached from everything, until I got a family. Maybe it'll happen to you as well," he says with a hint of humor.
"I have a family, believe it or not."
"But they're in Cathmoíra. Always seven years away from you."
"Yes... But I do have a version of it here in Avalir, a very busy one that lives in different houses."
He smiles. "We'd kill each otherwise."
She laughs loudly, it always gives him a pang of accomplishment wherever he manages to get it out of her.
"For sure we would. Though I would cut you some slack because of the lil ginger."
"Loquatius would be the first to go."
She takes the last sip with a smile. "Probably, yes."
"First Knight."
The voice is whispery, tiny and soft and as Zerxus turns to its source so is the half-elf woman who owns it. With the cold weather, she's covered by a hooded cape. On her chest, the clasp that closes the cape is a familiar mask.
He had been walking through the city checking for any suspicious behavior and has done it for at least a week since their temporary bridge with Zemnia.
"Hello, miss, how can I help you?"
She keeps her stare fixed on his feet. "Thanks, but I require no assistance. I'm Ivorah Orlan from the Conversion Nucleus."
"Are you a cleric?"
She looks surprised by the question but notices his eyes glancing at her chest. "Yes, cleric of the Matron of Ravens."
He just nods.
"I'm sorry for being forward but there's something I'd like to ask. It's about your late husband."
Zerxus feels a bubbling sickness in his throat, he also feels starved - very few even mention his existence. "Proceed."
"As I said I'm the responsible cleric for the Conversion Nucleus and I was a friend of the First Knight Evandrin. In conversations we had, he had mentioned that when his death came he'd like me to be his sepulchral ritualist, but I never got the chance."
"He didn't want to be Converted."
"I'm aware. He wanted to be burned in a pyre and sent into the Lucidian. But we had that discussion and I never... his body was already dealt with before I had the chance and I feel like I broke a promise," she finishes with a quavering voice.
The memory of the time comes blurry to him, everything around it comes as a big horrifying blur. Loquatius and Patia had dealt with most of the funeral rites, he dealt with Elias, and Nydas dealt with him. Part of the ring had been broken and through fire and violence forced back into shape.
He turns the sickness into a solid mass, a boulder that keeps him from breaking every other hour.
"And you're not the only one." He steels himself. "The nature of his disease, we... we had to let go of many luxuries of honour."
"It still puzzles me what took such a young and strong man..."
"Puzzles me as well."
"Wish I had a chance to..." She closes her eyes, breathes deeply. "At least he was given an honourable funeral march."
"It was the Septarion's making."
She nods with her head down. "I'm sorry bothering you, First Knight."
He places a hand on her shoulder. "Thank you. For caring. Perhaps your Matron has him in her company and I envy her for it."
She lifts her eyes at once, then he sees them for what they are - terrible dark circles, perfect eclipses. "I've sought her insight about it... she doesn't have him in her sights."
"What does that mean?"
Her intensity deflates. "I don't know. I like to believe he went to an even higher place of honour for a soul as pure and valiant as his."
He tries smiling but feels tears sting in his eyes, the boulder starting to melt like a stray iceberg. "So do I."
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appledew · 2 years
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Fleas is all set!
Made for Treeato on Twitter!
Fleas is made of minky, faux fur, long pile minky, custom dyed minky, alcohol ink stained faux fur, suede, jute and stiff felt. The base body and tail  has ball jointed armature while the claws on the back legs have wire armature. Fleas stands at about 18 inches from the bottoms of the feet to the top of the head, 20.5 inches including the ears. The face, and detailing on the back legs are machine embroidered. The hairs on the front legs are hand embroidered and knotted to hang freely on the legs. The bandage detailing was added using alcohol inks. The accessories are NOT removable, though the bandages on the legs and tail are anchored in a way to allow movement in the legs. Fleas’ little chick buddy is removable though. :)
WOW! I saved Fleas to be the last commission in my queue so I can focus all my energy into this big sweetheart. :)
I anticipated this being a huge project, and boy was it. Starting off with patterning-- honestly this was the easiest part. Fleas’ pattern is a heavily modified pattern of another large plush-- Flik. I did make some modifications to allow the armature to move a little more. :) There was SO much planning done during pattern making and it helped me out quite a bit. Honestly, most other projects are winged as they went, but I ended up sticking pretty close to my original plan with Fleas.
The biggest changes had to be the fabrics used though. Originally I was going to use Mocha for the base coat, but it felt too... brown? So Cappuccino was used instead. I had plans on making the bandages out of minky, but went with some suede i had in my stash to get a “cleaner” look, plus it would be easier to add detailing! 
the lighter faux fur markings gave me a bit of grief; originally, it had been stained with acrylic paints, but after shaving the color disappeared. ^^; The stain didn’t penetrate all the way down. At this point, I decided to just  stain the fur with alcohol inks.
Back tracking a little... So the markings on the hips were hand sewn. I have little experience sewing markings onto fur, but fursuiting tutorials did help a lot! I do need more practice to make a more seamless transition between colors, but I’m still happy with the results! ^u ^ Getting a closer shave also helped a bit!
After sewing the base body together and shaving (twice) the BIGGEST hurdles were about to come.
The front toes were hand sewn, and luckily I planned enough to machine sew the claws into the toes! Some editing was done to the toes because they came out a little too big. The little hairs on the legs were something I was nervous about. At one point, I considered just machine embroidering them, BUT ultimately decided to hand embroidered them and knot the base to keep them in place. I like to believe that it added a nice touch and definitely made them look less flat! Fray check was added to the ends to keep them from.. fraying, haha. :)
Patterning the bandages was easy (they were literal strips), but attaching them was another story. So... they aren’t completely sewn down to the plush, there are just anchor stitches to keep them in place. This was my downfall; at this point, after wrangling the armature into Fleas and stuffing, my hands were shot. I had to take frequent breaks at this point.^^; Some of the bandages also had to be removed and resewn a few times to get the placement right. On the side, i think this was the most difficult part and I was mostly home free after this. :) After each...portion? of bandages was sewn, I added detailing (stains and patches) to the bandages. After all of this, I was the final accessories...
The cups and teacup were actually patterned while I was pattern Fleas. This was all smooth sailing, even making the little chick was a breeze! though it felt like they all came out a little small until I attached them to Fleas. One smallish issue I did have was how fuzzy the cups came out. I kind of wish i could have planned them out a little better, but felt like the most forgiving fabric to use minky to hide MAJOR imperfections. ^^; Though in retrospect, I think fleece could have been another good candidate.
I went a little extra with the rope used to attach the cups and went with jute rope i picked up during my final supply run for Fleas. it felt like a perfect match! the cups are tied and knotted (and even partially sewn) to keep them in place!
I could go on and one about Fleas, but I wanna keep it somewhat short! There are TONS of WIPs over on my Ko-fi and Trello for some more insight, but again... WOW!
Fleas came out looking more like an art doll than a plush, especially with the detailing I went with, and I’m overjoyed and still in awe with how they came out looking!
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