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#my arts end up stolen because peeps like this
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hi, i understand u dont want ur oc art reposted cus u have created the oc. but when u make cod ghost art, u have drawn it but its not ur character. so peepz can repost ghost art as long as it credited. again its ur art but not ur character. cus i dont see u credit cod when u draw ghost
Hello!
Good logical play, but It's still my art though. I made the art piece. I have a say in that art piece that I made. I have a say on where I want my drawing to be posted and where I don't want it to be posted. Plus I've never claimed that Ghost is mine 🤷‍♀️ and at this point, everyone knows that Simon "Ghost" Riley is a character from Call of Duty.
My art is NOT public property.
Activision has the ownership right to the character Ghost, so only they have a say on what we can't do to Ghost. That means the only one who can say that I can't make an art/fic of Ghost is Activision.(and it most likely will never happen).
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Editing with my tags cuz I think it's also pretty important to know (or if you're still dense enough to not wanna listen to me) :
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vixeria · 1 year
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Are u using AI art generators for ur work fam? ur art style now is a bit sus. seems like a weird flex to use AI from others stolen work as ur own and claim it took u weeks but ok u do u
Not sure who you are, Anon, but if you’ve ever followed my work on (unnecessarily many) social media, you’d see that sometimes I post my process, other times I don’t. And, if I’m assuming correctly, you might not actually know that I took a MASSIVE break from my social media, which included my main source: Discord. Now, as I have much more time on my hands, I’m just looking everything over that I built up in my time away, fixing things up, cleaning my edges, making some color tone adjustments, amending my shapes, and so on and so forth, and because of that it has given me the chance to post a bunch of my work back to back like I have. I managed to get all of my nearly done pieces out, so that was nice, but there were others I had that still needed some major fixes- this one was no exception. To top things off, I have done live streams on Discord while working on some of my pieces, just to have some company while I work.
But for the record, I followed a tutorial during while making this one (Mostly for fur) that came directly from Sakimichan.
And, just to point out a very obvious fact, I really don’t owe you or any other person an explanation. As an added bonus, here’s how my image ACTUALLY began:
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…scary isn’t it? I have a LOT of pics that start off looking like something that came from an elementary student. X’D A shame I didn’t record or take snapshots through my progress. I hope I can start doing tutorials myself someday. I’ve had about some 15 odd years to build up skills, which I think have come quite a ways. I even had originally planned for the image to have a tail and all of Sess’s wispy cloud thingies everywhere, but ended up converting that into more mist-like stuffs. I was also hoping to accomplish some realism in this piece. There was only one other image I tried with realistic painting- and I somewhat gave up on that one. As another note, my more realistic pieces are incredibly few and far between, and that’s just because I don’t like spending ALL my time on just one piece when I have several other projects going and new ideas forming in my brain that I need to kill.
But to answer your question Anon, no. No, I did not use AI art. AI is pretty cool and neat, and I’ve even played with them a little bit, but that’s as far as it ever went. Pure fun and never shared. It does intrigue me sometimes, the AI art, but usually when I’m just flipping through other peeps creations.
I agree with you, however, that it’s definitely a weird flex (such an odd term- I literally only learned the term in like the past year lol) when it comes to ai works. I have a lot of hard time making art in general, which is the reason for my inconsistency. (In case anybody noticed, lol X’D ) I’m always looking at new tutorials, seeing what method works for me, which methods don’t. What new style I’d like to test my skills on, and challenging myself as best I can. In the past, I think, four months, I’ve been REALLY trying my hardest at animal anatomy, and you can tell even in THIS image that I kinda ignored my original tail design…and the paws… and the legs…. Kinda omitted his neck…. And I’m even dissatisfied with his markings still! I redid them so much, even AFTER I was like “Okay, the image is done!” I had forgotten to add his markings (which I do a LOT, funny enough) and tried to make it WORK. And to me, they still look like pasted on stickers. X’D Finally decided to just give and share.
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whirlybirbs · 3 years
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FEVER-DREAM    ;    echo/reader 
summary: echo is fine-tuning his new prosthesis. you have experience, you help. unspoken feelings are acted on. adoration blooms. you learn what mesh’la means.
word count: 3k
pairing: echo / f!reader
tags: mutual pining, lots of tender looks, victorian-era hand-touching sluttiness, echo is a gentle soul, reader is head over heels, a touch of ptsd mention, set on ord mantell, mention of our boy fives, in this house we love assistive devices, enough sexual tension to power the death star
a/n: this is me round-house kicking the bad batch writers in the throat because they made echo cosplay a droid — but, also because this man deserves to be treated as more than a means to a mission’s end. majority of you know i am ~bitter~ (understatement of the century) of tbb’s plot/design/writing. but echo has been a favorite from the original days... so have some very soft fic.
i reference character redesigns by @nibeul​ in this piece — please go peep them here, and some updated character spreads here! they’re really beautiful and add a phenomenal layer of storytelling to the existing designs that’s lacking. nibuel’s art and writing is lovely. please give them a follow — i can’t rec their work enough. 
“How does it feel?”
The words are nearly whispered; it’s clear you didn’t want to startle him, and Echo can feel the pinch in his brow soften at your sudden appearence in the doorway. 
His bunk, at the back of the Havoc Marauder, is small — the space itself even more so. There’s a makeshift partition, hooked together with spare parts and meant to offer a bit of privacy on the cramped vessel. Its slate grey color has faded, and the edges have become tattered in the cycles of use. 
When Echo pulls his dark eyes up from his work, you’re leaning against the frame — your expression is earnest.
For a moment, the once-ARC Trooper is quiet. 
He wonders if he’ll ever get used to your attention. Each and every time, it sends him into a spiral; his heart catches as he inhales and tries to push down the warm stir in his gut. The sight of you is enough, nowadays, to melt Echo’s well-maintained irritability. His attention is stolen from his ever-present pain, if only for a bit.
There are plenty of days where he misses the old him — the wide-eyed, eager ARC Trooper who had his brothers by his side. His real brothers. Hevy, Cutup, Droidbait... Fives. 
Fuckin’ hell, Fives was probably staring down at him now laughing. 
No matter what changes, you’re still shit with the ladies, vod’ika. 
In a way he hasn’t fully admitted to himself, you make him feel like himself again. Like... Like some shiny cadet, on leave and distracted by the promises of pretty smiles passing-by. It’s good.
This makes him feel... good. 
He flexes, and his right hand — the new, gunmetal durasteel cyberized-prosthesis — closes into a tight fist. It’s taken him a bit, but the feeling isn’t so foreign now. It’s still... slow. Slower than he’s used to, but you’d mentioned it may take some time. The phantom feelings get better, too. All in all, it’s a good thing.
Your own hand, your left, glimmers back in the same gunmetal color.
(Echo had never pressed you about the missing limb — not until one day, in Cid’s, you’d joined him in a quiet corner. You’d spilled your drink and a complaint about getting the star-cherry syrup out of the joints had slipped out. Echo had laughed; a real laugh, the sort that was so rare coming from him, it had you staring at him as if he’d hung ever star in the sky. 
Can I ask how it happened? he’d said, breaking the heavy silence when your eyes never left his.
The Pykes, you’d said, and that was enough.)
“I haven’t, uh... Haven’t gotten the sensory calibration right yet.”
Then, his prosthesis cramps. His fingers go rigid, and Echo curses sharply as he reaches around his forearm to quickly reboot the appendage. It goes slack, then hums alive once more.
You wince.
You’re slow to move into the room — and you settle atop one of the crates Echo had stolen from the belly of the ship, an old Mantell Mix shipping container. You’re mindful to set his datapad aside, to not disturb his space too much. Before you reach for his hand, however, you lift your chin and open your hands in your lap.
“May I?” you ask, just as soft as before.
Echo feels small under your gaze.
Truth be told, you’re doing more than just... asking. You’re taking him in — appreciating him. It’s a habit that’s grown more and more apparent to not only himself, but the others.
In recent rotations, Echo has let his hair grow out — not long, but the once close buzz he’d kept has begun to curl at the top. Not entirely dissimilair to how it was before the Citadel. The dermal implants, the ones the Techno Union installed in order to parse the nuerological data in his head, stand out against his warm-colored skin. 
His usual AJ^6-inspired headpiece is resting on his bunk.
That damn thing.
A neccesary tool. One that, given the amount of user data Tech had procured when working on modifying the implant, Echo found himself immediately distrusting. It wasn’t as if the AJ^6 cyborg construct had a beautiful track record, and frankly, Echo would like to keep his personality in tact, thank you very much. There were plenty of days he felt machine enough. 
It wasn’t often you saw him without the headset; you knew it made linking in via his scomp easier to handle, it made the visualization of data transfers as easy as breathing. For Echo, it was a part of his vast kit, an important tool. For you, seeing him without it bubbles up a bit of a smile.
Echo catches it.
His eyes narrow playfully.
He looks... well. You — hell, are there words for it? For the way the sight of him makes you feel? It’s like there’s a world full of potential there, a thousand words unsaid, and feelings that have steeped in the warmth of longing gazes and half-there touches.
You’re still looking up at him, knees bent on the crate.
You blink, realizing you’ve been caught staring — not for the first time and certainly not for the last. In the beginning, it had left a sour taste in Echo’s mouth. But, now... Well, it stokes a sort of pride in his chest that he hangs onto. 
It never gets easier to recover from — certainly not when Echo smirks. He moves to allow you to take his prosthesis into your lap. The gesture is gentle; your fingers cradle the firm yet pliable metal.
“What?” he asks. His voice, low and rough and warm, is tinted with amusement.
“Nothing,” you say vaguely with a shrug — as if that’s supposed to explain any part of your enamored stare. Your attention moves to the prosthesis.
“Nothing?” he asks, moving to thumb his left ear with his free hand with a dash of nervousness. A habit. Echo tilts his head as his fingers brush the cochlear implant there. The panel rests neatly against the side of his head, a small rounded-off square. The bite of self-consciousness has dwindled around you — but still, it creeps back up every now and again.
The Corporal’s brows knot playfully as you turn his new hand over in your lap; you’re admiring the upgraded feel, the more seamless panelling in comparison to your own. Echo watches your lashes flutter in silent thought.
Then:
“You’re a terrible liar, you know.”
You blink slowly at the hand, swallow down your sudden sheepishness and ignore his gaze. You bite back the smile digging into your cheeks. “Maybe.”
“Do I have something on my face?” he asks suddenly, and you look up.
A baited trick. He’s smiling. 
The warm sort — the sort reserved for you and for Omega. The two souls that hold a piece of his heart, with all its ticking valves and electric timed pulses. There are machinisms that keep him alive, and then there is you. Your wide-eyed expression melts, giving way to the sort of smile he’s tried to memorize over and over. It’s the same smile that has warded off that reoccuring nightmare of the night on the tarmac at the Citadel, the same smile that has pulled him through the grit of phantom pains.
“What—” a sudden laugh bursts from your chest, “What is that supposed to mean?”
“You were staring, mesh’la,” he rumbles out as a reminder, enjoying the fact he’s suddenly become the center of your attention. Echo leans back, his boot toeing yours. You nudge it back. Your face feels hot. You ignore his pointedly teasing look with a roll of your eyes.
The nickname started a few weeks ago. You haven’t asked what it means — no, for now it’s meaning hangs in the balance. Untouched but there. The affection the word carries makes your heart feel heavier and unbelievably full.
“Bad habit,” you chirp back, looking up at him through your lashes.
His laugh is warm.
“Maybe not.”
“No,” you say quietly; your voice is soft as your eyes bounce across his face, tracing the lines of his face with your gaze, “I don’t think it is.”
There’s a silence that slips between you — a comfortable one. It’s heavier than before. That has begun to happen recently, especially with the petal-soft utterance of mesh’la becoming more and more frequent. You hold his gaze. Echo lets out a soft, contented sigh.
Then, you remember the task at hand.
You clear your throat.
“Uh... The access panel I’m looking for,” you say slowly as your raise your finger to point to your own arm, “It’s on your bicep.”
Echo blinks. He clears his own throat before looking down — he hadn’t even noticed that access panel. That could explain the jarring miscommunication stalling the limb. This model had more bells and whistles than he initally realized. 
Better than a fuckin’ scomp link, that’s for sure.
Wordlessly, Echo makes room on his bunk. You move to settle beside him, your bent leg resting aginst his hip as you half-straddle the bed; your other knee brushes his thigh — and Echo tries to sit still. You’re close, now. 
“Is it okay if...?” you trail off, fingers tugging on the short sleeve of his blacks; you pause until Echo offers a curt nod. You catch him swallow. You push onward, fingers nimbly rolling the fabric up over his broad bicep. 
Echo steals a glance your way as your fingers pass across a slip of his bare skin. 
In his lap, both his hands twitch.
He’s no small man. Lean and athletic, Echo is built like a soldier. Omega had said once that Echo was an ARC Trooper, one of the best of the best. You believed every bit of it, and you’d hung on her words when she’d rambled on about ARC training, about Kamino, and about who Echo was before you knew him. It was all in the past, though. That Echo is a part of this Echo but... They’re different men. He’s been changed by the things that have happened.
You don’t press him on the details. 
In time, they’re slipped into conversation here and there — between the here and now.  
In the beginning, when you’d found yourself amongst the crew of the Havoc Marauder — be it for a simple job on Cid’s behalf — Echo had hardly paid you a moment of attention, though you admit you’d been curious from the start. It had taken three jobs for you to finally see his face. Then began the slow and gradual bonding over catching joints, grating plates, and hardware updates. His legs, your arm. Two pieces of a pair.
Now, he has this. A beautiful new upgrade — something he’s wanted for a long time. A part of his old self is back, in a way.
You liked that it was more than just a tool. That, in having this piece of his body back, he felt like more than a tool. More than a scomp link. 
After all, he is a man — a... a very handsome man. One whose proximity is sort of distracting you, again, from the task at hand.
“The panel here,” you say as you slowly press on the seam that enables the settings panel to be revealed; you’re mindful to explain, “It controls sensory outputs, as well as synchonized synaptic commands. The panel on my forearm does the same to my hand, yours is just... well, you’ve got the new and improve version.”
Echo ducks his head as you work, watching you from the corner of his eye. “Feeling a bit jealous, mesh’la?”
“Maybe,” you breathe out with a smile. 
Then, you lift your eyes. You intended to see that he was still comfortable, but instead you come face to face with the Corporal. His nose nearly brushes yours when you lift you chin, completely dragged in by the closeness shared.
There’s a beat of tension. Echo’s mouth goes dry.
You fingers pause. You swallow hard. “How... uh, how does it feel?”
Echo tightens his grip, then releases. His breath tickles your cheeks. His eyes, a deep, warm brown, flit from your eyes to your mouth, and then back. His voice is a croak. 
“...Same as before.”
You tinker with a dial, eyes never leaving his; your voice is above a whisper. “And now?”
It’s immediate. Like a rush of cold air up his arm — and on instinct, Echo’s hand twitches. His fingers grip the fabric of his blacks, along his thigh, and... he feels it. The smooth, stretch of the material. It’s... it feels like a lot. His fingertips, metallic and cyberized, tingle. It’s distracting.
He can feel. 
His hand is slow. It moves across to bridge the space between you. His pointer finger settles on the curve of your knee; the feeling of your tactical pants beneath his fingertip is ignored, instead he chases the heat of your body.
Your breath catches at the touch. 
Echo’s face is turned to you, but... his attention has settled on his hand. His palm then sweeps across your thigh. He follows the curve, soaks in the feeling. You’re frozen in place, beating back the desperate sound of appreciation that threatens to be pulled from your throat. The touch is... more than welcomed. 
The closeness itself is making you dizzy.
Then, Echo turns — and the warm, durasteel-plated palm finds your cheek.
Your skin is hot. 
“Is this okay, mesh’la?” he whispers, words riding on a quiet exhale — the sort that make you feel... well, you don’t even have words for the way he makes you feel. Echo is... kind, honest, and loyal. Above all else, he’s gentle. Despite it all, despite every bit of horror he’d been put through, he’d never lost sight of the importance of a gentle hand. Especially now in a moment as intimate as this. It coaxes you closer.
You lean into the cybernetic attachment, cheek resting in his palm. You nod, then, with eyes eager to take in every bit of this moment.
He chuckles at the enthusiasm. Echo’s thumb, deft and smooth, then traces the line of your lower lip.
The feeling is... the gnawing pain that he’s felt for nearly a year has melted. Finally, the itch has been scratched in his brain and the hollow ache of his bones is gone. It’s relief, and comfort, and excitement and all these beautiful things — and you. 
You’re stuck — you don’t want to move, you won’t move. He’s rooted you completely, and when his other hand — the calloused and warm one of flesh and blood — finds it’s spot along your thigh, you swallow a lovesick sigh that would only exaserbate your desperation. 
Your mouth is moving before you realize it. 
“What does it mean?”
Echo’s eyes narrow, only a bit, and he runs his thumb up your cheekbone.
“What does what mean?” 
“Mesh’la,” it sounds foreign on your tongue. It’s not Hutteese or Twi’leki, not like any language you know, “Will you tell me what it means, Echo?”
The corner of his lips quirk. Your eyes jump to it.
You feel like someone’s reached right into your chest and given your heart a squeeze — and it only worsens when he laughs. He laughs, deep and quiet and warm, like a thunderstorm on a summer night. It feels cruel, to string you along like this when you’re here, lips parted, hanging off his every touch and his every word.
“Beautiful,” he says quietly as his other hand touches your jaw — it’s so damn reverent, this little moment in time, that you almost don’t believe it’s real.
It feels like a dream — like someone has come in and stolen your thoughts from you; like the unrequited yearning has finally stoked a fire large enough to burn you up entirely, a fever you never knew you wanted.
His nose brushes yours.
Your fingers wind into the fabric of his chest. You’re clinging, lost to the moment — and you can’t help wonder if this is how it feels when he catches you adoring him. He’s admiring you so tenderly that you nearly break.
You want to kiss him.
He’s thought about nothing but kissing you for the last five days at least. Longer in his dreams. Nowadays, it’s a constant pull, a constant want.
And now, it’s here — a present and current moment where it can happen. Where he can stop being a shiny cadet and he can make a move...
Enter Omega.
“Echo, we’re back—!”
The telltale hammer of a girl’s boots on the floor signals that the party is back from their supply run — but you’re so far off, spinning in a different universe, you don’t even hear her until its too late... Until Echo is yanking himself away and clearing his throat and rolling his wrist to test the prosthesis in a different way, a less intimate way. 
You blink, then rattle yourself back to the present. Omega is in the doorway staring with a quizzical look. Clearly, your state does little to dissuade the assumptions she’s already making and you can see the gears turning in her head. The dark-haired girl then slowly grins.
“Hi.”
You swallow. “Hi, Omega.”
“...Whatcha guys doin’?”
Echo coughs. “Uh, just fine-tuning the new upgrade.”
“...Riiiiiight.” 
You rub your cheeks and laugh — clearly forced and incredibly pained — as you stand up and nearly ram your head right into the top of Echo’s bunk. It’s met with a hiss of warning from the trooper as he jumps up to try and protect you from the impact. 
“Well! Uh, thanks for letting me help, Echo,” you clap, rocking back and forth on your boots, “I, uh... Oh, Cid called. I should... I should get back—”
“Yea,” he says, straining a bit to find the words, “Yea, I’ll... I’ll comm you if it starts to, uh... If it starts to act up?”
Omega watches the exchange, big brown eyes moving from left to right. 
“Good, great — yea, that’s,” you inhale as you rub your thighs and move towards the door, “Perfect. Okay.”
“Okay.”
“Bye!” Omega calls, waving.
You wave back, smiling. “Bye, Omega.”
Then, once it’s only Echo and Omega in the bunk, the tween speaks.
“...What the kriff was that?”
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isabellehemlock · 3 years
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Author Interview Tag Game
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Both @energievie and @ceraunos​ tagged me in this lovely author’s interview (a month ago eeek) and I am so excited to fill this out - such a cute one! - thanks for the tagging me, and I'll tag:
@boutiquetraveltravelboutique @bewires @disregardandfelicity @ao3-arkada @pinkninjapj @emjee @mieraspeller @shatterthefragments @catherine-batty-author (feel free to skip, especially if you've already done it!)
1. How many works do you have on AO3?
Thirty-three, four are fanarts 🎨
2. What’s your total word count?
762,097 (in the last 15 months - and that’s not including a couple of things I haven’t posted yet lol WHAT - how did that happen?!)
3. How many fandoms have you written for, and what are they?
Well I joined AO3 five years before I started posting in August of last year.  The majority of my fics are hands down The Old Guard - but branching out to other Luca Marinelli Multiverse characters, and crossovers (so including those, five total - but again, mostly characters for crossover purposes vs canon adjacent fics)
4. What are your top five fics by kudos?
Endless Ocean (TOG AU), Cleanse (TOG post canon), The Bet (TOG pre canon), Catch Me If I Fall (TOG AU), The Purpose of Art (TOG Modern AU)
5. Do you respond to comments, why or why not?
Aw I love responding to comments!  I don’t think I’ve ever missed any??  I’m pretty extroverted though and love chatting with people, and of course am always humbled someone has gone out of their way to leave a comment, so, grateful for the opportunity to express my thanks in return 🙏🏻
The rest under the cut because this got long haha
6. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?
Define “angst” lol.  Because gosh, I was going to say none, but it is sort of implied in a couple - The Necklace (TOG pre canon), An Interrupted Oath (TOG pre canon), and Memento Mori (TOG pre canon) - not sure how much I can share about any of those without it getting spoilery, but basically: sad, saddish because reunion is “off screen”, and uh, the third ends on a cliffhanger.
Some of my other stories do have angsty themes in them, but otherwise happy endings 💕
7. Do you write crossovers?  If so, what is the craziest one you’ve written?
Hands down, Pwimo - but I got an even crazier one outlined muwhahahaha
8. Have you ever received hate on a fic?
Mmmm, define “hate”?  I’ve had unwarranted/not asked for commentary and “jokes” around ship dynamics in my fics, as well as people suggesting I shouldn't write one or the other (both in comments and DM’s). Spoiler: you can't win, someone is always going to be unhappy with the ship dynamics, write what you want (I write both btw and yup have received commentary across the board)
9. Do you write smut?  If so, what kind?
Lol, let me whip out my list - can I sort by rating? Haha.  I mean, I think tags can be fairly subjective, like there’s a lot I can’t personally read.  There’s a lot I’ve written, that others can’t read, so I’m not sure if I should say “kink”?  Because I feel like half the peeps will say “Oh yeah” and the other half would say, “Lol whatttt?”  
Hm, but without writing out a whole list, I think kink encompasses enough haha.
10. Have you ever had a fic stolen?
Not that I’m aware of - I think I would cry, please don’t.
11. Have you ever had a fic translated?
Nope, not that I’m aware of?
12. Have you ever co-written a fic before?
Not so much co-written, but EO was co-created with my beta, and we spent the better part of six weeks piecing together a fairly elobrate outline with backstroies, plot points (she came up with half of them!).  She was kind enough to beta every single week for the better part of six months to make sure I didn’t miss anything haha.  
I am itching to co-write something, but it’ll be a surprise, so I can’t say more than that - but the co-author has already looked over the outline and seems they liked it 😘
13. What’s your all time favorite ship?
Joe and Nicky!  I’ve written some 762k+ words for them (and characters in their lives, and crossover AU’s), I love them your honor
14. What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?
Oh I’m going to finish them - might take me another six months, but it’s going to happen 😎
15. What are your writing strengths?
Within the story: hmmm, I really like to explore what makes a person tick, so I’d say dialogue, and character backgrounds - I like to pretend I’m funny sometimes, too.
Writing in general: this might be the ADHD, but I don’t really need to carve out time to write.  I can do like thirty minutes here, stop, do something else, then dive right back in and write like another hour.  Obviously if I can schedule more time at once that’s great and all, but it’s not a necessity.  Really helpful when I have other errands, appointments to do, just sort of tap in/tap out as needed.
16. What are your writing weaknesses?
I feel like I’ve read some fantastic, beautiful allegories to describe scenery and people, and I just - never seem to use that for my own stuff, and I don’t think that means my fics are necessarily lacking because of it, but I just notice it when I read it in other places. I think I tend to focus on the dialogue more, or when I do describe things, tend to rely on colors and emotions but gosh the epic, sweeping, poetic imagery kind of stuff I've seen in this fandom?? Yeah drag me stunningggg
17. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?
Hey if you got someone to help you (Lisa has helped me several times with Arabic!), then go for it - or there’s a few tumblr authors who have resources/guides.  Otherwise, I stick with one or two words here and there at best, but not like long chunks of dialogue. I'm bilingual myself, so I know how inaccurate Google translate can be lol.
18. What was the first fandom you wrote for?
I did a lot of RP/OC stuff as a teen, then didn’t do any of that for almost two decades - save some short lived RP stuff a decade ago - TOG is the first fandom I wrote a posted fic for
19. What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?
Oh gosh, such a loaded questionnnn 🙈 Because I love them all for different reasons but I guess let me pick like a baker's dozen? And share little things I liked about them?? (numbered by posting order from oldest to newest)
They emerged once more, and beheld the stars
My first posted fic! How can it not have a special place in my heart??
The Little Church
This was based on the first post I made in the fandom, about how Joe and Nicky might have discovered similarities between their faiths and bonded over that. I'm really into interfaith dialogue so it was wonderful to write some of that out here as the interfaith couple of the millenia 🥲
Cleanse
A post canon fic that weaved their past, into a post movie world with flashbacks, and though disguised as a road trip fic was really about healing from a ptsd flare up - also, this was my first sex scene writing (so I was nervous!)
The Purpose of Art
My very first modern AU and oh my gosh though on surface level looks like a restorative social justice fic, it was definitly more like a romantic comedy featuring all three major couples - and the first time I wrote about demisexuality in a fic (so again, totally nervous!!). But it's still one of my top three that I think back on fondly for its found family themes, and healing from traumatic events (I'm already seeing a pattern lol)
The Bet
My first, on purpose, explicit fic solely for the sex lol. I wrote some 17k+ words in three days and wanted to try my hand at some kink themes. I definitly used a lot of religious imagery as well though, and it turned into an actually tender PWF. I truly believe I peaked with this one haha.
Crimson Moon
Once again, my attempt at writing smut, ended up being a long multi fic exploration (under the guise of vampires and werewolves) of world building, explicit consent, soul mates AU. It featured the other pairs as well, and is also one of my top three favorite personal fics ever!
Piece of Heaven
This was actually a last minute fic - someone had to drop out of the holiday exchange and I got to be one of the called on subs if you will haha. And gosh this turned out to be one of my absolute favorite fics - it's a modern AU, sweet, gentle, featuring seminarian!Nicky and scholar!Joe and it's just adorableeee
12 Days
This was a kink based prompt fic, but since I seem incapable of writing any porn without feelings (I didn't mean for my demi to come out this hard but here we are lol) - I completely, though totally accidently, projected myself onto Nicky coming to terms with his sexuality with a sweet, kind, patient partner (i.e. my hubby). Whoops at the self insert lol.
Through the Lens
Speaking of hubby, I used this big bang fic to share my own (and his) personal experiences with the starving artist tropes, xenophobia (though only a smidge in the story), and even included me and hubby's meet cute via Andy and Quynh’s story. Plus the tSoA symbolism is thiq within this fic y'all 😎
Endless Ocean
By far my most read fic (and now a whole series with a time jump epilogue). I won't get too personal here with it, but there were several themes and even full on dialogue scenes taken from my personal life, as well as family history, and I really, really wanted one thing to resonate above all else: that there's hope after pain. Also almost 250k of that stat number at top, came from this fic alone whoops
Pwimo
Alright here me out, this is the most niche, self indulgent, crack/smut I could have ever written and I regret nothing. I don't care that it is one of my least viewed fics because I love Pwimo enough for everyone lol. He's my cursed child on the server, I even have emotes for him from memes, there's art now featuring Primo as a catboi and it's all thanks to Chelsea, who allowed me to adopt him. I'm the Mother of Cursed Children now lol.
Misunderstandings
My first time writing Roberta, and a trans character, so I was nervous! I really appreciated the positive feedback and enjoyed getting to write for her - and did another one as well ;) But I loved the historical, French provincial vibes, and the opportunity to flesh out such a beautiful character - Roberta is a Queen, who deserves everything ❤
Called You By Name
I almost didn't post this one! The religious imagery is not only fic, it's blatant lol. I wasn't even sure if it would be too Catholic in the sense it might go over some people's heads and make it too hard to follow along. Like, would someone need to pause, look up what the heck I was referring to and just - not finish it lol. But luckily that doesn't seem to be the case and I'm grateful for the positive feedback I received. It's one of my favorites and I loved exploring the potential HC of how Nicolò became Nicky di Genova 😏
+ bonus Miracoli
I'm currently writing my first Daan x Paolo fic, and you loves, it's so fluffy and adorable and the single Dad vibes but also the pining but also the kiddos but also the self loathing my goodnesssss.
Oh my gosh this got so long, I'm sorry 🙈
That's all folks!
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leilabeaux · 3 years
Text
In My Sights III
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Masterlist | Two
Pairing: Ivar/ Fem Reader
Word Count: 3570
Warning: None? 7 years bad luck?
Summary: A meeting with two brothers from Vestfold takes Ivar off guard.
Author’s Note: Well, this part was a long time coming. That means I will have part four ready next year.
The dining room was sparsely occupied that early afternoon with women who lunch, businessmen on lunch breaks, and their quiet chatter. The Vine had long been considered a historical landmark in Kattegat and was formerly a struggling fine dining restaurant. It had only gained popularity with the upper class once Aslaug Lothbrok, a well-known Götaland socialite who was newly married and new to the city, started to make her presence there. Though it’s popularity faded over the years, it was still preferred by the old money elite. Mostly for the staff’s discretion rather than the food and ambience.
It was for that reason why the Lothbrok sons preferred the establishment for their business lunches. Extra care was also usually taken with a generous tip to the host to ensure no other guests would be seated next to their table but today it was turning out to be a waste of money as the hushed voices from their corner of the room began to grow.
Ivar drummed his fingers against the table as he brought the cup of coffee to his lips, glaring across at his three older brothers. Apparently, the idiots had forgotten the importance of discretion as they were busy bickering over why their associates called for today’s meeting. He hoped the clinking of his cup when he set it down roughly onto the saucer would disrupt their chattering but, to his annoyance, still they continued.
Leaning back in his chair, his left hand mindlessly traced the carved out dragon on his cane, last year’s birthday gift from his dear Uncle Floki, while he scrolled through the day’s news on his phone. One particular article detailed the resignation of a Mercia diplomat after the unexpected death of her eldest son, mentioning that authorities were looking for a red-headed female who was last seen with him for questioning.
Good luck finding her, Ivar thought to himself. He had given up all attempts at trying to find you or any information about you after a year upon your meeting. After coming up empty through hacked databases and facial recognitions, he concluded that you were virtually a ghost or at least knew very powerful people who worked hard to keep you hidden. All he could do was sit and wait until he heard from you again, hoping his right hand and the memories of your last tryst would keep him satisfied till then.
He felt his slacks tighten as he got lost in a memory of you trapped underneath him as he pounded into your sweet cunt. The whines of you begging him to make you come he heard in his head were interrupted when Ubbe pounded his fist on the table, causing the glassware to shake.
“For fuck’s safe, Ivar, get off your fucking phone!” His older brother harshly whispered, checking over his shoulder at the other patrons, finally aware of the scene they were making.
“And why would I do that, dear brother?” Ivar still had his eyes turned down to his phone as he sent you the link of the article and a brief message: You’re on their radar. I wonder what you’re willing to do to make sure I don’t turn you in. Throwing his phone on the table, he raised an eyebrow as he bestowed Ubbe with his undivided attention. “So I can join you fools in biting our fingernails, worrying why they called for a meeting at the last minute?”
“They” were two brothers from Vestfold, owners of a large fishing company based out of their hometown and, most recently, out of Kattegat as well. To the public eye, it was assumed that it was hard work, determination, and a wise investment from Ivar’s father that turned the once struggling business into a multi million dollar success. But the young men currently seated at the table knew that the wise investment was generous compensation throughout the years for hauling more than just fish on their boats. Whether it was guns, stolen art and, for a very brief moment in time, opiates, Halfdan and Harald provided safe transport for anything the Lothbroks were running.
“You're not the least bit worried? What if they’re wanting to pull out of our deal? The Rus are not going to be pleased if we’re not able to deliver their shipment.” Ubbe wrung his hands as he thought of the worst. He was not looking forward to telling the Rus leader of any potential delays. The man wasn’t the most level headed or understanding and honestly, he creeped him out a bit.
Hvitserk nodded his head in agreement. “They might be. Remember, they were wanting a cut of our profits the last time we met with them but Ivar thought it wasn’t a good idea…” He pursed his lips in disapproval before cutting his eyes toward the youngest Lothbrok.
If Ivar had rolled his eyes any harder, he would have given himself a headache. “They’ve been doing the same job for our family for nearly twenty years, nothing more and nothing less, and have been paid fairly for it. Maybe a little too much in my opinion but I will honor our father’s wishes. Still they have no business being greedy. If it wasn’t for the Lothbroks, they would still be hauling fish into a sinking dinghy.”
“There are probably others who are looking for a way to transport their shit and all they need is a smug asshole like Harald to offer his services.” Hvitserk swirled his drink in his glass, taking a sip before continuing. “I think we should give them at least half of what they were wanting.”
Ivar gave an aggravated sigh and was ready to shoot down what he thought was the stupidest thing to come out of his brother’s mouth.
“I don’t know, I think Ivar’s right.” Sigurd chimed in. “They should be grateful for all our father did for them, not bite the hand that feeds them.”
The other men at the table sat in silence as they stared at him in confusion. It was thought that Sigurd would rather eat a bullet than agree with anything Ivar had to say.
“I changed my mind. Give them everything they ask for.” Ivar had joked, he would never admit out loud or to himself that he appreciated his least favorite brother taking his side. Officially done with the conversation, he picked his phone back up. He held back his smile as he read the new message: Anything you want me to do, handsome. But first, you’d have to find me.
Ubbe looked up from behind his nerve-wracked hands toward the lobby and gave a sigh. “Thank gods, they’re finally here...and of course he brought his fucking girlfriend. To our illegal business lunch meeting. Great.”
Hvitserk gave a quick and quiet wolf whistle as his eyes studied the woman on Harald’s arm, from head to toe. “Is that the same one he brought to your birthday party? Didn’t she have different hair and was a bit taller?”
“How can you not tell? I thought you fucked her while cake was being served?” Sigurd questioned.
“All I remember was the back of her head, to be honest.”
Ivar couldn’t hold back the snort at Hvitserk’s comment. Whatever smart ass response that was about to come out died on his tongue as he looked up at the woman that was being led to them. This was definitely a new girlfriend because if you were the one Hvitserk had fucked in the coat check room, he was going to have one less brother.
As always you looked like perfection to him but he knew your presence, or rather your outfit, was causing a bit of a stir in the restaurant especially among the older women who were busy clutching their pearls. From the plunging neckline of the loose dark green silk shirt to the matching miniskirt with a side-slit it was tucked into, your ensemble was far from the acceptable dress code of the Vine but the host knew better than telling Ivar and his brothers that their guest would have to leave, no matter how many complaints he’d get from the other patrons.
“Can you two shut the fuck up before he hears you?” Ubbe scolded Hvitserk and Sigurd before standing up to greet their guests. Shaking Halfdan’s hand before moving onto Harald, “Gentleman, I’m glad you could finally join us.”
Halfdan gave a frustrated sigh as he unbuttoned his suit jacket and plopped himself down on an empty seat. “Believe me, it wasn’t my fault.”
“Oh come on, brother. We didn’t keep you waiting that long.” Harald slapped a hand on his shoulder before parading the young woman on his arm. “Boys, I’d like you to meet my girlfriend Veronica.”
Ivar instantly wished he had ordered something stronger than coffee. He didn’t want to believe for a moment that you would choose to be with someone like Harald but you did warn him before that he hardly knew you.
In his opinion, the Fishmonger wasn’t much to be desired. And if it was money you were after, Ivar’s funds could have kept your excessive shopping addiction quelled more than the mere pennies the other man had. He knew he could satisfy you in that way and others.
Patiently sitting back in his chair, he watched as you politely smiled while you shook hands with each of his brothers. Hvitserk was unaware how close he was to a dinner knife to his thigh after lingering a second too long while kissing the back of your hand. Fortunately, Harald had the good sense to pull you away.
Ivar balanced his weight on his cane as he stood up to introduce himself, taking a risk and gently caressing his thumb against your hand. “Lovely to meet you, Veronica.”
Although you said nothing back, he didn’t miss the small smirk that briefly graced your face letting your alleged boyfriend lead you to your seat.
“I hope you boys don’t mind her being here. I know we try to keep these meetings to ourselves but I’ve been a little busy and this beautiful thing has been missing me.” He kissed the back of your hand, causing you to giggle. “Didn’t even want to take my card and go on a shopping spree.”
“I swear you won’t even hear a peep from me.” You promised, miming zipping your lips closed while you took a seat across from Ivar. “Harry’s shop talk ends up sounding more like gibberish to me anyway!”
Ivar had to focus to not show his confusion when he heard you speak. The words coming out of your mouth sounded as if they were dipped in saccharine and nowhere near the lower sultry tone he was used to. He hoped to himself that you would stay true to your promise and remain silent.
Unfortunately, promises meant nothing to his brothers.
“So what do you do for a living, Veronica?” Sigurd asked while cutting into his beef tenderloin.
You gave him a closed smile, dabbing the corners of your mouth with your napkin as you swallowed your last bite. “Oh my goodness! Nothing as important as what you gents do! I worked in this cute little boutique over in Vestfold before Harry whisked me away!”
“Wow, you must have made a killing in commissions.” Ivar couldn’t resist this opportunity to make you sweat, if that was even possible.
He was sure that hint of confusion on your face seemed authentic to everyone else. “No? Actually, I worked hourly...”
You were cut off by an annoyed groan from Ubbe as he rubbed his face, the food on his plate was barely touched. “Harry...I mean Harald, why did you call this meeting?”
“You couldn’t wait a few more minutes until we were done eating? I’d expect mommy to have taught you some manners.” Harald sighed and tossed his napkin on the table before leaning back in his chair.
Ivar didn’t miss you curling your hand around your knife. The tension surrounding the table definitely wasn’t missed by you.
Before Ubbe could respond, Halfdan had cut into the conversation. “Look, we know the last meeting didn’t go well.”
“Actually, you shot one of our men in the head.” Hvitserk stated, staring at Harald as he made his point.
Halfdan quickly interjected, “One of our captains went rogue. Was convinced by some mysterious buyer to deliver your last load of weapons to them. Don’t worry, we took care of the problem”
The younger Lothbrok brother stayed silent while his brothers voiced out their displeasure. You took a sip from your glass, your eyes cutting back and forth to the men surrounding you.
“Oh, did you?” Ubbe questioned incredulously. “Because there shouldn’t have been a problem in the first place.”
“Yes, we did.” Harald finally broke his silence with an emphasis on every word. “The man liked a good drink...a little too much. It was unfortunately only a matter of time until he drunkenly stumbled off his boat. I’m sure the medical examiner we paid off would attest that it was accidental drowning. As for the guns, they’re on another boat with a crew we know we can trust.”
“The buyer? Do you think it was the Saxons?” Sigurd suggested to the table.
“No, they thrive on letting it be known when they screw us over. I suspect they either are or know someone close. In either our circle or yours. I just hope our actions show that we are loyal and can be trusted.” Harald regarded that last statement to Ivar, knowing his silence throughout the exchange meant he was the one he had to win over.
The young man grinned as he sat back in his seat “You know, before you got here, my brothers were saying they didn’t think you deserved any part of our profits but I personally think a five percent cut of every successful shipment is reasonable.”
A smirk slowly spread against Harald’s face. “I think that sounds very reasonable.”
----
Ivar slowly made his way to the front of the restaurant. The remainder of lunch was uneventful other than the mindless chatter of Hvitserk and Sigurd asking you 20 questions. Ubbe promptly left after taking care of the bill and with so few words.
He rolled his eyes in disgust as he watched Harald wrap his arms around you, not even trying to be modest as his hands grabbed your ass. He had to fight the urge to not cut the man’s hands off for touching something that belonged to him.
You squealed and playfully swatted his chest. You gave a quick glance at Ivar as he slowly approached. “Baby, I’ll meet you outside. I just need to touch up my lipstick real quick.”
“Okay, lovely. Don’t be too long, we have a plane waiting on us.” He pressed a quick kiss on your lips before letting you go. He walked out of the restaurant, not even noticing that Ivar was close by.
Your heels clicked on the marble floor and you peeked over your shoulder toward Ivar, giving him a small grin before you made a quick turn into the washroom.
Ivar looked around to make sure there were no eyes on him as he made his way in the same direction as you. He didn’t expect his brothers to worry too much about him. He would’ve been surprised if one of them had waited for him especially since he took his own personal town car to the restaurant.
Before he could even walk through the door, you yanked him in by his tie then pushed him against the adjacent wall. He barely had time to react when he felt your lips against his own. He wrapped his arm around your waist and groaned when your hand tugged down on his locks.
Usually you enjoyed taking your time kissing him, teasing with a soft touch of your hand at the back of his neck, savoring every small whine he made when you nipped on his bottom lip. But today was different as you rushed to deepen the kiss. Both of you knew that if you were gone too long, Harald would come hunting for you.
When you broke away from him, you looked into his eyes, stifling a soft giggle. “Hi there, handsome.” You teased, your voice finally back to normal.
“Gods, that voice you were putting on was annoying.”
“I don’t know. Harald seems okay with it.” You pushed yourself away from him, walking over to the sink and pulled out a tube of lipstick from your clutch.
Ivar stayed put against the wall, watching as you leaned over the sink to look yourself in the mirror.
He repeatedly tapped his cane on the tile, “Is he why you said no?”
“Said no to what?” You stayed focused on reapplying the red color on your lips. You couldn’t help but laugh when you looked up and saw the annoyed look Ivar was giving you.
You smooth a finger around your lips, cleaning up any smudges. “I’m not his girlfriend, Ivar. He thinks I’m the very expensive call girl he hired to keep him company over the weekend. Just your basic girlfriend experience.” You dropped the lipstick back into your clutch before closing it with a snap.
“Your client wants him taken care of?” He walked over and propped his hip against the counter next to you. “That would save me some money in the long run. One less brother to pay.”
“No…” You looked down at the porcelain instead of looking him in the eyes. “I’m just collecting information on him by any means necessary.”
“Any means necessary?” While Ivar usually admired your dedication to committing to your undercover work, he found himself not liking the idea of you following through on this one. “Y/N, please tell me there’s a target on his head.”
You quickly glanced up at him through the mirror before turning to lean against the counter. You crossed your arms in front of your chest. “At the moment, no.”
“Goddammit, Y/N” Ivar pinched the bridge of his nose. Though the thought of someone else hands over your body aggravated him, the idea of another man inside of you incited him. “Are you going to fuck him? Have you fucked him?”
“Ivar…you and your brothers were waiting for a reason. It would have been suspicious if the hooker refused to fuck him.” You stated as if that was a reasonable explanation.
“How much is your client paying you? I’ll double it—fuck it, I’ll triple it if you just walk away now.”
“No one is paying me. I’m on my boss’s orders.”
“And who do you work for again?”
“Tsk, tsk. You already know that if I told you, I’d have to kill you and I don’t want to have to mess up that pretty face. Again.” Pressing up against him, you gently brushed your thumb over the faint scar that went across his cheek. A sweet parting gift from one of your earlier encounters with him.
“Tell me what information you need and I’ll get it for you.” He leaned down and pressed his forehead against yours, closing his eyes. “Just...just don’t go with him.”
You cradled his face in your hands. For a brief moment, there was a look that Ivar had seen on your face before, a mixture of pity and sadness. You shook your head then pressed a gentle kiss on his lips before you walked away from him.
“Please don’t hate me, handsome.” Through the wall length mirror ahead of him, he saw you turn to face him after pausing at the closed door. “You can be mad and you can curse at me until we’re old and grey. Shit, you could even throw another knife at me but I think it would hurt me more if you hated me.”
You waited a moment for him to say or do anything, but when all you got was silence, you walked out of the door.
Ivar took a deep inhale to try to calm the anger that was beginning to flow through his body. He turned toward the mirror, his knuckles going white as he grabbed onto the edge of the sink. No care when his cane falls to the ground with a resounding smack.
When he was younger, he had got into some trouble after he hit a classmate with a rock. The therapist his Uncle Floki took him to after the incident told him to try counting to ten whenever he saw red.
He closed his eyes, letting out an exhale at every count in his head.
On five, he could see you.
Six, Harald slowly walking up behind you.
Seven, him taking you into his arms.
Eight, his tongue sliding up your neck.
Nine, his hand trailing down to your center.
Ten, you softly moaning out Harald’s name.
Ivar screamed out in rage and punched the mirror. He didn’t even notice the pain in his fist until his breathing evened out. He straightened out his tie the best he could with the distorted reflection in front of him. Flexing his injured hand, he reached over and grabbed one of the towels laid out on the counter, wrapping his hand in it.
If Harald didn’t have a target on his head before, he fucking did now.
——
Tags: @xbellaxcarolinax @castielsangelsx @revolution-starter @momowhoo @peachyboneless @punkrocknpearls
@love-all-things-writing @peoniesandbooks5 @spotgaai2000 @walkxthexmoon @youbloodymadgenius @trip2themoon @zo3st3rmonro3
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heyitsani · 4 years
Text
We Don’t Share the Same Blood
Batman Bingo 2020: Ice Cream/”You are my dad, right?”
Word Count: 2026
Rating: General 
Warnings: Dick’s low self-worth, is that a warning?  This is fluff peeps, not much to warn about.
Pairing: None 
Summary: When Bruce is unable to attend parent/teacher conferences at Gotham Academy with Damian, Dick steps up and takes his place.  The evening ends with ice cream and a revelation that puts to rest a lot of questions Dick has been asking himself.
Notes: Dick get a little stuck in his head here, but it’s mostly fluff.  These brothers give me life and this makes me happy after such an awful Damian day yesterday.
I also put it all under the cut because there wasn’t a really good “preview” cut off point.  Not because it’s NSFW or anything.  Good, clean fun here.
You can also read this on AO3 here
While the idea of having kids and a family one day had always been one that Dick had subscribed to, he had never thought he would take the less traditional path.  He always expected to settle down with a partner, maybe marry them, and then have children through conception or surrogacy.  Yes, adoption had been an option to consider, but he had always wanted to make sure that his family genes continued through at least one biological child.  Not because he wanted his kids to look like him, but because he wanted a piece of his parents to continue on, even when they couldn’t.
He wanted a Grayson to be in the world after he had gone from it.  He wanted to be selfish on one thing.
What he hadn’t thought would happen was that at the age of 27, he would be taking custody of the son of the man who had taken him in after his parents had fallen to their deaths. He hadn’t expected to be doing it alone with no one but the man he thought of as a grandfather to guide him. Sure, Bruce hadn’t always been the best father, but Dick had always thought he had done the best he knew how. Mostly.  And Dick had always expected to have Bruce to fall back on when he felt like he was drowning in the ocean of parenthood.
But he hadn’t had Bruce.
It had been him and a child who hadn’t wanted Dick.  Damian had wanted Bruce, not a poor substitute in the shape of Dick.  And the young Wayne had made it clear from the very beginning that Dick was nothing but an inconvenience.  That he wasn’t Bruce and he never would be.
Then things had started to change.  Jason stopped trying to kill them and Tim was off trying to find the man they all loved like a father.  And Damian stopped fighting Dick every step of the way.  He still fought, but he slowly started opening up to the older man and things started to fall into place.
They were good.  Dick was happy and Damian was flourishing.  He watched the kid go from an angry murderous brat to a haughty self-entitled brat.  And then, eventually, Dick started seeing an actual child emerge.  And he did everything he could to foster that in Damian.  He tried to give him back the childhood that had been stolen from him.
And Damian slowly became a son.
And then Bruce came back.
And Dick felt like his entire world was torn away from him and there was nothing he could do about it. It had hurt.  It had burned.  And he had punished himself instead of taking it out on Bruce.  Because it wasn’t his fault.  And it certainly wasn’t Damian’s fault.  
So, Dick had done the only thing he could do.  He went back to his apartment and kept his distance so Bruce had the opportunity to become a real father to Damian.
At least until Gotham Academy was calling him stating Damian needed someone to pick him up because he was ill, and Bruce was not answering his phone.  Dick had still been listed as a secondary contact and Damian had asked for him over Alfred.  And, of course, Dick had dropped everything and gone straight to the school he had once graduated from to pick his brother up from school.
He hadn’t even considered saying he wasn’t able to.  Not for Damian.  Never for Damian.
And though the kid looked green around the gills, he looked far too grateful when Dick appeared in the doorway of the nurse’s room.
That day Dick had moved himself back to the primary contact for the school and promised Damian that he would always come when his brother called.  Always.  It didn’t matter what he was doing, if Damian needed him then he would be there.  Like he had always tried to be for all of his siblings since he had failed Jason so spectacularly when he had first come to the family.
Damian was different, though.
Outside of the fact that Dick had blurred the lines of brother and parent in his own heart, sometimes he felt like Damian did the same.  Like Dick was something more than just another brother.  And a part of Dick hoped that was true.  Even if the other part of him felt beyond guilty for taking that from Bruce.  It wasn’t like his father figure had meant to be taken away from them for a whole year, forcing Dick to step into far too many roles that he had never wanted. Including, “father” for a kid who would have rather been anywhere else.
“Are you even listening to me, Richard?”  Damian’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts, reminding him where they were and why.
Right.  Parent/teacher conferences that Bruce couldn’t be bothered to attend because the League had called on him.
“Sorry, Dami.  Got stuck in my head.”
Dick wasn’t surprised to see the teen heave a heavy sigh.  “I was explaining that these meetings are droll and pointless.  I am performing excellently in all of my courses and I don’t understand why we have to bother.”  Snorting out a laugh, Dick reached out and ruffled Damian’s hair.
“It’s so I can hear teacher’s gush about what an amazing student you are.”  His words were met with an eye roll before they continued their path to the first classroom.  And though Dick knew the teachers would all tell Dick that Damian was a bright kid and was very diligent, he knew they would also tell him that he was not the average middle schooler.
And Dick was well aware of that.
“Well, if it isn’t Richie Grayson,” a familiar voice called out.  Glancing over his shoulder, Dick smiled the familiar face of one of his old school friends.
“Hunter Blake, how are you?” Dick held out his hand to shake the other man’s but was surprised when the other man ignored it and found himself pulled into a hug instead.  It was quick, gentle, and over before Dick could really react but it still caught him off guard.  
“I’m good!  What are you doing gracing the halls of Gotham Academy on PT night?”
Glancing down at Damian, Dick was surprised to find the kid smiling brightly.  “Uh, I’m here with Damian.  Bruce couldn’t make it, so I’m filling in.”  Dick shook off the surprise at Damian’s expression just as he had the hug and looked back to Hunter.
“I don’t know why I never put that together.  I’m guessing you two are heading to my classroom now?”  Hunter looked down to Damian and Dick saw the teen nodding out of the corner of his eyes.  “I’m Damian’s art teacher.  Come on, I was just dropping off a forgotten purse in the office so I’m heading back that way too.”
“I didn’t realize you ended up teaching here.”
“Well, they certainly love to hire their graduates when they can,” Hunter laughed, and Dick nodded.  The trio walked in silence for a few more feet before Hunter was waving an arm toward a room.  “This is us.  Why don’t you go get your portfolio, Damian, while I talk to Dick?”  The teen wasted no time in hurrying off to grab something.
“So art?”
“I enjoyed it as a kid, turns out I’m pretty good at it but not good enough to make a living.”  Dick glanced around the room and took in all the art on display and shrugged.  
“You must be good with kids? Damian always talks about his art projects.  It’s obviously his favorite class.”
“No one has talent like him. He’s by far my most talented student. Probably the most talented student I’ll ever have.”  Dick followed Hunter to a wall of landscapes and immediately he could point out which one was his brothers.  The forest behind Wayne Manor was unmistakable but the style was one Dick had framed around his own apartment.  “He’s quiet and he’s reserved, but he is an artistic genius.  I hope he is encouraged at home to cultivate it?”
“I have numerous pieces framed around my own apartment.  I know Bruce has a few in his various offices as well.”  If anything, Dick had always worried that they had pushed it too much. But Damian was stubborn and if he didn’t want to do something then he didn’t do it.  So if he hadn’t wanted to draw, then he wouldn’t.
Hunter smiled brightly and clapped a hand on Dick’s shoulder.  “I’m glad to hear it.  I would love to be able to say I have a Damian Wayne original hanging in my classroom one day.  I’ll let him show you his portfolio.  I’ve got other parents to mingle with.”
“Thanks, Hunter.  Good to see you.”  Hunter said a you too before turning to approach a mother cooing over her daughter’s work.  Looking down to see Damian holding a book in his hands, Dick smiled and moved to sit at one of the desks so his brother could show off.  And Dick couldn’t stop the swell of pride in his chest as his brother showed him piece after beautiful piece.
When they had gone through the entire book, Dick smiled at Damian and told him just how amazing everything was and he watched the teen glow under the compliment.  As if it meant something coming from Dick.  Something more than it would had it come from someone else.
“What do you say to some ice cream?”
“That would be an acceptable end to this evening,” Damian agreed after he had returned from putting his portfolio back in it’s place.  And Dick couldn’t agree more because ice cream was an acceptable end to just about any evening.
“Richard,” Damian called softly as they walked the street with their individual cones.  Dick hummed in response as he watched the other people on the street, enjoying the cool but not cold night air.  “Thank you for attending tonight.”
Looking down, Dick smiled. “Of course, Little D.  I know I’m not Bruce, but I’ll always be where you need me to be.”
“Yes, you are not Father,” Damian agreed.  And though Dick knew that, the words did sting a little.  “But in full disclosure, you may not be Father, but you know you are my dad, right?”  Freezing in place, Dick stared at Damian as he processed his words.  He wasn’t Damian’s father but he was his dad.  That is what the teen had said.  
“Dames…”  Dick wasn’t sure what to say.  Did he tell him that he couldn’t do that to Bruce?  Did he thank him?  Did he hug him?
“I apologize if I have overstepped, but I thought you should know.”  There was an awkwardness to Damian and a slight blush on his cheeks, like he was embarrassed to admit such emotion.  It made Dick melt.  “I have spoke with Father about this regard and he told me that it was completely understandable, given the time you and I have spent together.”  Bruce knew?  And he apparently didn’t care.  “But I just wanted you to know that you may be my brother on paper, but to me you are more.”
“Thank you for telling me,” Dick finally responded, voice thick with emotion.  He wanted to say more, he wanted to gush all of his emotions onto Damian and make sure he knew that Dick felt the same.  That no matter what happened, Damian would always be his son. “It means more than you know.”
Nodding his head, Damian looked from Dick to his ice cream cone and then started walking again.  “Come, Baba.  Jon’s birthday is approaching, and I must find a gift to give him or I will never hear the end of it.  You shall aide me on this mission.”
Baba.  Dad.  
“Of course, Dames.  We wouldn’t want to disappoint a Kent.  You’d never survive the puppy dog eyes.”  Dick spoke through the happy tears that built in his eyes at the name, following his son down the street to see what the shops could offer.
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snaileer · 3 years
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Let’s be Chaotic
For all my chaotic aligned peeps, this is for you. All them lawfuls and newts, y’all can hop off off and away.
SO,
If you a writer. And you writin’ crossovers. Or even self-inserts, ESPECIALLY self-inserts. We flailing. We flailin’ as an alignment entirely.
You telling me I can’t find ONE fic where somebody gets thrown to say, the avengers universe, and just uses all their media knowledge to absolutely screw with ‘em?????
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Now, the best part of being chaotic, being slick and causing chaos. And chaos is always more fun when you can watch it up close. Misunderstandings, a cliche you say? No no no no no, oh hon hon, assumptions, mon ami. You know everything about this universe. You know their backstories. You know their histories, their little niches and tricks and that’s worth it all. Plus, the likely route of multiverse travel, you have no trace or history in that universe.
EXAMPLE: Avengers.
You’re dropped into the avengers-verse. SHIELD comes and picks you up. (And most fics, the oc is mid-late teen. Is good age.)
Think, “What would a secret government spy agency think about a random person just appearing? They have no findable history. They’re a ghost.”
Now, HMMMMM. What other people do they know who have similar traits?
Assassins. Literally only assassins.
And spys. 
Either way, spooky and a danger to the organization. It’s automatic for people to make these connections, these assumptions. Especially someone like Nick Fury, who tries to be prepared for everything and likes to know everything.
Now here’s where everyone fails. They tell the truth.
“I’m from an alternate dimension”
“I mean you no harm.”
blah de blah blah blah.
boring. No no no, whatcha gotta do, lie. 
Or just don’t deny it even. Play into it. Let them assume.
So they likely send in Black Widow, Natasha Romanoff, a deadly assassin who has problems with child soldiers and their agencies. She’s been told there’s a possibility you’re a child soldier. Stolen and hurt like she was. 
So she wants to protect you, and her emotions are already running high, but she’s a spy, she’s highly trained, she knows not to show it, and she knows not to underestimate. She also knows how to detect lies. You must think you’re screwed, right?
Not even close.
This is a game of hide and seek. Just because they’re close, or don’t know they’re looking right at you, they haven’t found you yet. No, not until they can tell you what happened on their own. 
She asks, “Who are you?”
You can say you don’t know. Play the brainwashed card, an empty shell. No life, no identity, they can’t get anything from you. 
OR
You hesitate. Pretend to mull it over. It doesn’t really matter if you give them a fake name or your real one. But pretend like it’s a fake one either way. 
Say it dead to her face. Monotone, completely serious. Maybe a smirk after just to throw her off.
Act like you’re lying. If you are lying, then that’s that. Even if you’re not, they’ll think you are. Or maybe they’ll think you’re just too good of a liar. 
So maybe they want to test you, see how good of a fighter you are, what training you have. Oh, but you’re not actually a spy or anything so you can’t fight? 
That’s what a spy would be trying to convince them of. And how would they do that? They’d hold back, make themselves lose, act worse than they are. 
Do the same.
You can’t do fancy martial arts? Don’t do anything against them.
You can’t punch very hard? Pull your punches even more.
They’ll be able to tell you’re holding back, that you’re faking being that bad.
But that doesn’t mean they know how much you’re holding back. They’ll assume you’re holding back a lot. 
Let them.
At the end of it, as they’re walking out the door, throw in a name. Whatever name she didn’t give you. Give them just a coy little glimpse of what you might know.
“Goodbye, Ms.Romanoff. It was nice to meet you,” And when she freezes, turns back to look at you, smirk.
Not big. Not flashy. No teeth. Barely visible. But a smirk that says, “Maybe everything’s been a lie. Or maybe it hasn’t. You’ll never know.” 
“But I do. I know.”
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groovegalaxxxy5 · 3 years
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The Art School AU nobody asked for
I’ve had this idea for an emercury AU fic kicking around in my head for a while now, but I have so many other projects on my plate rn and nowhere near enough time or energy to write it. So instead I’m just gonna post all the deets in the hopes that one day I’ll be able to come back and actually do something with it.
Emercury Art School AU Summary:
“Emerald Sustrai may have managed to get into the dance program at one of the most prestigious art schools on Remnant, but she has one big issue – after just one year of study, she’s barely managing to stay afloat even with two part-time jobs and her grades have been suffering for it. Fortunately for her, her school offers extra credit to any students who are cast in the school’s yearly exhibition performance.  Unfortunately, this year’s production’s theme is “passion” and the only spot up for audition for sophomores in the dance program is for a couples’ dance performance based on said theme.   
Enter one Mercury Black—a fellow dance student with a reputation unsavory enough to overshadow his considerable talent, and quite possibly the last person on Remnant Emerald would ever want to work with…He also happens to literally be the only other person she can find to pair up with her for the show.  Somehow, improbably, the unlikely duo actually make a pretty good team once they finally start to work out their differences, but as they perfect their routine for the big audition, Emerald finds herself in a whole new predicament: She may have set out to steal the show, but if she’s not careful she might just end up getting her heart stolen in the process...”
So yeah…as you can see, the basic premise is that Em and Merc are classmates at this school for the arts, but both of them are having trouble earning passing marks in this one foundation course they both need to graduate—Emerald because she is completely on her own and has to work a lot to pay for her living expenses and studio fees and stuff even though she has a pretty decent scholarship, and Mercury because he keeps really odd hours and misses class quite a bit for unexplained reasons.  Noticing that she’s struggling even though she is a gifted dancer, one of Emerald’s teachers suggests that she try out for the big show that their school puts on every school year, since anyone who makes the cut receives a bunch of extra credit and each faculty also gives a grant to the students who they judge to have put on one of the top three best performances.  The problem is, there are only a limited number of spots up for audition for each graduating year of each concentration course due to time and resource restraints, and this year’s 2nd year dance spot happens to be billed as a couples’ performance.
Emerald hits up everybody she can think of, but they're all too busy or can't commit to the project for other reasons. Pretty much out of options at that point, she’s just about ready to give up when she has a chance encounter with a classmate, one Mercury Black, after school.  Through some sort of clerical error they managed to book the exact same practice studio for exactly the same time, and since they both really need the extra practice time and neither one is willing to back down, they end up sharing the room for a few hours.  When they do, Emerald is really surprised to find out that Mercury is actually a really talented dancer, she just never noticed before because even though they have some classes together he comes in very irregularly.  After a long, sleepless night contemplating doing something really, really ill-advised, she ends up approaching him at school the next day to propose that they team up and audition for the big show together since they appear to both be failing the same class and need the credit really bad, and to her surprise he agrees rather easily.
Thus, the two of them become reluctant accomplices. However, once they start working out the choreography together, they just can’t seem to see eye-to-eye on anything, which doesn’t bode very well for their performance considering that it’s supposed to embody the show’s theme. Emerald is more of a ballet dancer, while Mercury is more of a street dancer, having started out with breaking and had almost zero classical training before starting school.  After a while (with a lot of practice and a LOT of unsolicited intervention from their nosy friends) our two favorite mayhem children finally start to bond and find some common ground, and naturally, lighthearted romantic hijinks ensue and sparks fly between the unlikely duo as they struggle to cooperate and put together a passionate couples’ dance good enough to get into the final production.
The Supporting Cast:
Em’s peeps -- Cinder (in the class above, sort of her mentor and was the one who encouraged her to apply to school in the first place), Weiss (met in freshman year, in the same ballet, jazz and contemporary classes this year, snarking buddies), Blake (ended up in most of the same classes together this year), Coco (upperclassman in the design course, loves dressing Em in different outfits and often forces her to stand in as a house model for her when she needs to work late into the night to meet a deadline)
Merc’s peeps -- Sun (met in class in freshman year, breaking and sparring buddies), Neptune (met thru Sun, in pop class together this year), Scarlet (ditto), Blake (in a few classes together, waits tables at the same diner where he works), Yang (met at a stunt training camp the Summer of freshmen year, waits tables at the same restaurant, fellow gym rat and occasional sparring partner)
Salem -- Headmistress of the most prestigious arts school on Remnant; has a bitter love-hate (mostly hate) relationship with her ex
Oz -- The headmistress’ ex-husband who runs a very successful Circe du Soleil type show and recruits a lot of his performers from her graduating classes
Glinda -- Chair of the dance department; Contemporary and ballroom dance instructor; is so so weary of her faculty’s incessant bickering
Winter -- Ballet instructor; came up in a rigid traditional Atlesian ballet school and generally looks down on all the other dancing disciplines and their instructors (”What they do can BARELY be described as dancing”); wishes the dance department were as disciplined as the music department
Qrow -- Jazz and tap dance instructor; doesn’t think that what his sister does really counts as actual dancing; jazz hands, rain hands and double dream hands and he’s dead serious about em
Raven -- Acrobatic and contortion instructor; thinks jazz hands look really stupid, just like Qrow and his corny, goofy ass dancing; was actually trained extensively in traditional Mistralian Highlands step dancing from childhood alongside her brother and used to perform internationally before switching disciplines
Tai Yang -- Hip-hop and pop dance instructor; specializes in pop and lock; Raven's ex; constantly catching strays from Qrow and Raven’s feud; just happy to still have a job tbh
Arthur & Tyrian -- Co-chairs of the theater department; Arthur teaches classical acting and Tyrian teaches method acting and they both think the other doesn’t teach “real acting”; somehow their department is actually really popular and all the students love the yearly musical theater production, which is the only time they ever seem to agree on anything
Hazel -- Long-suffering theater production instructor; works really hard to keep things running smoothly in the background despite the department heads' antics; hates the headmistress’s ex with a burning passion
Ironwood -- Chair of the music department; runs his department like a well-oiled machine and has put the fear of god into all his students; has won the national marching band championships seven years running
All the other students are in various departments at their school—e.g. Ruby plays the sax, Yang and Jaune are both acting majors, Oscar plays the cello, Nora and Ren play the tuba and the erhu respectively, Pyrrha is a triple threat etc.
A bunch of random plot points:
-Merc, Em and their friends are all in the same foundation classes together and the two of them start off vaguely aware of one another mostly owing to the fact that all their friends are friends, but they don’t really know each other (…or DO they??? *DUN DUNNN DUNNNNN*)
-Most of the faculty at their school can’t stand each other and the different departments have been engaged in bitter rivalries for years but somehow they all work really well together because at the end of the day they’re all professionals who are good at their jobs
-All of their friends are convinced that they’re secretly dating or hooking up at the very least, because they suddenly start hanging around each other a lot, holing up in the practice studio together until all hours of the night and showing up school at the same time the next morning and are constantly snipping at each other whenever they interact.  Merc’s squad is actually v supportive and (against his wishes) are doing their very best to try and help their boy lay down the mac (Sun: “Hey Merc! Thanks for letting me drive the convertible last weekend!😉👍”) , even though they all generally acknowledge that he’s way out of his league and is headed down the path to utter destruction. Meanwhile, Em’s friends are pretty appalled by her abysmally low standards (Weiss: “Emerald, you’re dating down....WAY down.🙁”) and think that shes going thru some kind of self-destructive phase or something.  They’re convinced she’s about to have her life absolutely ruined by that one smirky fuccboi type from their grade who has super sus habits and “reeks of criminality” (also Weiss).
-Almost everybody including most of his friends are convinced that Mercury is doing something really, really shady for cash on the low because he keeps super odd hours, misses class a lot and is always showing up with all these bizarre, unexplained injuries.  In reality, Em finds out that it’s all because he’s been training as a stunt-man outside of school and works a lot of weird hours at his part-time job so that he can pay off his prosthetics, finance his extra courses and pay for his own living expenses, etc. Although he actually was involved in some serious criminal activity in the past, he’s been trying his best to stay on the straight and narrow ever since he finally cut ties with his scumbag dad, and now just works a lot of nights and weekends as a short order cook at the local greasy spoon.
-Once Mercury realizes that Emerald is like...constantly on the brink of starvation because she’s a destitute vagabond baby but has too much pride to ask for help, he starts subtly bringing her leftovers from work, which she grudgingly accepts (because he owes her for putting him onto the whole extra credit thing, so it’s not really charity...definitely NOT because she is extremely susceptible to offerings of food and her partner also happens to be a surprisingly good cook).  
-Cinder is in the year above them and has known Emerald since they were in the foster system together as kids. She’s a prodigy at ballet and also a very accomplished acrobat and contortionist (as in, like, can easily shoot an arrow into a bullseye with just her feet while her legs are bent backwards all the way over the top of her head and stuff).  At some point she sits in on one of Em and Merc’s rehearsal sessions and ends up dragging the hell out of them both for being way too stiff and exhibiting almost zero chemistry despite the “obnoxiously obvious sexual tension” between them.  She basically ends up barking directions at them until they alter their choreo a bunch and finally start to look somewhat like an actual couple ("For fuck's sake... Lift her like she's the most precious thing you've ever laid eyes on and you're about to make sweet love to her, you idiot, not like she's a frigging sack of potatoes you're bringing home to peel!!!" "This man is supposed to be the moon to your stars...if you don't loosen up and melt into his arms like your soul is on fire, I will flip ALL this shit over and burn this wretched studio to the ground with both of you trapped inside!!!" ), after which things gradually start to get all awkward and messy between them because they start thinking about one another differently.  
-They get into a bunch of compromising situations by virtue of the fact theatre and dance people are just kinda naked  a lot and don’t care.  At various points in the story their friends will walk in on the two of them in some sort of really eyebrow raising situation, get the complete wrong idea  and run away, which in turn makes the two of them start to feel awkward as hell toward each other.
-Coco forces them to wear matching outfits that she made just for their performance.
-Their act ends up being this spicy contemporary couples’ dance that incorporates a lot of elements of acrobatic dance, breaking and ballet, essentially blending together both of their unique dance backgrounds.
 This story idea has absolutely nothing to do with canon and Remnant is a lot like modern-day Earth with some exceptions, so there are no semblances etc. There’s no antagonist; in fact everyone around them is generally supportive and wants them to succeed--the main conflict comes from Emerald and Mercury only having three brain cells between them and not being used to caring about someone else in a lovey-dovey sort of way. I got the idea when I was watching dance videos online and started remembering all those cheesy dance-themed teen movies from the 90’s and early 2000’s.  It’s pretty much just a wholesome little meet-cute/will-they-won’t-they type school romance in that same vein, where Em and Merc are forced to team up out of necessity, start to fall for each other and then have to deal with all the awkwardness that ensues...all with a bunch of help from their extremely eccentric, meddling-ass friends who are all convinced that the two of them are either already dating or about to be and are trying to keep them both from getting their hearts broken lol
 Whew! Guess that’s about it for now...I’d like to try and flesh this one out more and maybe even publish it as a legit fic one day, but first I’ve gotta get back to work on *signal lost*
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teamsarawatshusband · 3 years
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Word Of Honor - 1st watch insta thoughts - Episode 5
Episode 1
Episode 2
Episode 3
Episode 4
FYI (If you haven't read the previous summaries): Smirky Xing = Wen Ke Xing, Baby Xu = Zhou Xu/alcoholic tanned tragic hero lord guy, pleated skirt soldier boss guy = shen something, 5th brother from 5 Lakes
But let’s get started with Episode 5:
Okay, pleated skirt soldier boss guy chases the grandparents away and then wants to take the two mini wangjis with him. But the tree undies master guy isn't having any of it. So pleated skirt soldier boss guy isn't on anybody’s side. I see.
And there is another mention of 5 lakes abusing their power. Ominous.
The kids even wanna stay with tree guy. Must be bad.
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Oooooh, pleated skirt soldier boss guy is indeed after the glazed armor.
Oh, uncle Zhao and his peeps and everybody come to the rescue.
And uncle Zhao respects tree guy's wish to keep the wangjis. Is he genuinely a nice guy or just worried about everybody around, including Baby Xu and Smirky Xing and the kid?
Ooooh, super pretty scenery. Why can't we all live in places like that?
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Wheee, they get to feast with the family. And Smirky Xing is reciting poetry again. Everybody likes him it seems.
LOL, Smirky Xing is trying to feed Baby Xu. Who must get headaches from all the eye rolling.
Yo, what's up with tree undies master guy, why is he coughing?
Wait, are the little Wangjis also the kids of some 5 lakes brother? (Sorry, random thoughts about how things piece together, and lots of confusion)
Somebody's shouting for help. What's happening?
Young leader of something something, it was gone too fast. He'll be called magenta leader guy, if he ends up important. Ah, wait, he's from Broken Sword Manor. Have we been there before? I forgot.
Oh and he's chased by a ghost. And there's the smiley potato things flying in again. So the red masked ghost gang?
Oh, okay both magenta leader of broken sword manor guy and tree undies master guy vanish in the fog.
Pleated skirt soldier boss guy acts like an ass around the kid, encouraging him to drink along while drunk himself. What a jerk.
Uncle Zhao saves him and sends both to bed - individually i mean, obviously - , and seems genuinely nice, but I don't trust him still.
Whoa, pleated skirt soldier boss jerk guy is awake and just pretended! Even more of a jerk. What is he up to?
Oh, Baby Xu spots him and follows. Thank goodness, somebody needs to keep an eye on the mean guys.
There's some masked dark figure fighting with pleated skirt soldier boss jerk guy.
Something is going on at the main gate, and everybody runs there. Except maybe Smirky Xing, he's just cautious in general.
Oh no, somebody hung tree undies master guy outside the main gate. And it's raining smiley potatoes. Baby Xu is watching and they're all suspecting some happy ghost, because there's a batman-joker smile carved into the dead guys' faces. And happy ghost is apparently one of the masked ghost gang, which makes sense, because of the potato smiley paper crafts.
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Oh, now they're worried about the kid. Was it a trap?
No, he's with Smirky Xing and Baby Xu. How did Baby Xu get back there so fast?
Okay, Smirky Xing says some masked ghost guys were going after the kid but were bad fighters and he instantly chased them away. But can that be trusted? If he himself is nuts guy, they wouldn't fight him, would they? But then again... if he were one of them, why would he spare the kid? None of this makes sense.
Okay, magenta leader guy isn't dead yet. He's in some bed, and somebody is lying in bed with him. Some woman. Who is she? Oh, she says she's a ghost. Wait, does he know her? So has she REALLY died, like a dead ghost, not one of those living ghosts?
Dude, stop begging, if she IS a ghost, she's not gonna let you go, you fool.
Oh, ghost girl channels her inner Arya Stark and drops her face for effect.
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And magenta leader guy faints like a good damsel in distress.
Wait, she has a face again, but a different one (I think, not entirely sure) and she's one of the ten devils of ghost valley. A beauty ghost. Yeah, she's really pretty alright. And she's got a ton of friends with her.
Okay, what are they going to do with the unconscious guy? Kill him? They're just sharing make-up tips so far.
Baby Xu is trying to say goodbye to the kid. Aww, but the kid is gonna miss his dads. :(
There's a  flashback to some kid crying. There was also a name but I have no idea who he is. Was it Baby Xu?
Baby Xu sees a rooftop and flies up, I have no idea why. Was there something suspcious about the building? Huh?
Oh, somebody's pissed because their glazed armor got stolen. Ah it's pleated skirt soldier boss jerk guy and uncle Zhao who's not pissed just sad. Ohhh, so the ghost guys just wanted to steal the glazed armor and anything else was a decoy. I see.
Ahhhh, Baby Xu is on top of the roof, removing the tiles and listening in on their conversation, right when they say no outsider could know anything. Wow, they sure have a foolproof system.
Ok, 5 brothers of 5 lakes kept the 5 pieces of glazed armor? That does make sense.
Wait, why is nobody confused about pleated skirt soldier boss jerk guy being awake and sober all of a sudden????? Had uncle Zhao known that he was only pretending?
Man, that guy is made of pure anger and insults. If he dies at some point, he's probably gonna explode like a pinata hit by a dozen sticks at once, just because all the anger needs to get out first.
Ok, mad respect for uncle Zhao, because he is indeed a good guy it seems. He is capable of feeling guilt, and he doesn't want anything to do with the glazed armor anyway.
Okay, pleated skirt soldier boss jerk guy from now on will be called a-hole guy. Because, if the shoe fits...
BabyXu sees Smirky Xing flying away and is confused as to how he could also eavesdrop without being noticed by Baby Xu. I mean, that was Smirky Xing, wasn't it?
Oh, smirklord flying over the tree tops.
Yeah, Baby Xu, I wanna know too what Smirky Xing is up to.
Aww, "our little cheng ling". Smirky Xing is already feeling their dad status.
Oooooooh, Smirky Xing saved Baby Xu from the spiderweb wire stuff.
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Okay, some ghost talk, I have no clue what's going on. lol
I'm focusing on the important details. Like Smirky Xing fishing for info on Baby Xu's virginity.
Wait, who's bleeding from above?
Ah, there's the sleeve cutting. Yes. Nice.
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Oh the dead guy in the tree is the son of uncle Zhao? Wait, was he fighting with the dark masked guy? Not a-hole guy? Did I get them confused? I am so unable to understand anything, lol. I hate being faceblind. Somebody please let me know in the comments who did what while the manor was under attack.
Okay, dark masked guy's face is also shown and Bab Xu drops a name. I have no idea who that was, nor do I recognize the face. I'm so bad at this. Help?
WTH is "iron hook"??? Is that some special martial arts technique that only a few people can do?
Now they're speaking in riddles about animals. Owls, cicadas, yellow sparrows, praying mantisses. I have no idea what's happening. But it seems to be some sort of flirting.
Ok, now Smirky Xing says he's afraid of ghosts. I'm not sure if I believe that. He’s kinda looking a lot like nuts guy, after all, who is part of the ghost gang himself.
Oh, sure. When you're afraid of ghosts and more people dying... just go into the coffin house, because that makes so much sense.
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Ooooh, Baby Xu saved Smirky Xing from the spider web stuff this time. Niiiiice.
Aww, they're asking each other who they are. So... does that mean Baby Xu is interested after all? Hehe
Smirky Xing answers that he's a good person. Yeah, like that's not the exact thing a bad guy would say. Not suspicious at all.
Why are there paper animals all over the place anyway? Can anybody tell me?
Also, who lit the incense sticks?
Why are they splitting up? That's how you end up dead in a horror movie, wth???
Wait, what? That's Smirky Xing's dad? His dad looks the same age as him? Is he hallucinating?
Whoa, why is it day time? Ohhh, blurred vision. Definitely something shady going on.
Baby Xu is hallucinating people too, I think. Leader of Four Season's Manor. Is that his dad? Zi Shu, wait, was that Baby Xu's real name?
Anyway, dad guy is doing an Anna impression and asking Elsa Xu to build a snowman.
Oh, Baby Xu saw through the hallucination. Got out of it by cutting himself. He really is into pain, isn't he?
Eww, zombie guys. What did I say about horror movies? But, nice make-up!
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Oh no, Smirky Xing is still stuck in the visions.
And, more fabric is cut off. Baby Xu really doesn't like blood. Smirky Xing was not wrong.
HOLY SHIT! Smirky Xing called Baby Xu by his real name while hallucinating. So they DO know each other!!! :O
And THAT'S when they end the episode??? NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!
Gah!!!!!
Okay, okay. I'm calm.
So, what have I learned: 5 lakes alliance can't be trusted. A-hole guy is a complete jerk. AND SMIRKY XING KNEW BABY XU WHEN HE WAS A KID!!! Also, side note, I miss my purple queen :(
Goals for the next episodes: Find out how they know each other!!! Also, why doesn't Baby Xu recognize Smirky Xing? Is he also disguised? I still need to work on the name chart thing, because there's new characters showing up in every episode and I'm so lost.
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thebigqueer · 3 years
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fic prompt: a vibey group of friends (all diff aesthetics but they fit) being very swaggy and then they engage in THIEVERY and get away with it like the cool peeps they are - for flavor throw in a bunch of androgyny and no romance but instead they are very good friends
at first i was considering using my OCs but then i remembered that i really wanted to do a fic with the Art Hoes TM so thank you for this perfect prompt (also lakjsdljkdf yes this is very late but in my defense i also could not figure out how to write this one) thanks for the prompt! i hope y’all like this! and, as always: I do no editing on these, so please don’t be too judgmental.
The light overhead flickers, brushing strokes of darkness over the ceiling intermittently. A low hum emanates from the packed freezer, showcasing the variety of expired milk and sweet ice creams. Perhaps they shouldn’t do this to the poor twenty year old at the counter, but in their defense, the cashier seems like they’re too dead to even notice what’s happening. They should really be focused. In the quick flash of darkness, two beings flicker into existence in a corner, shadows coiling like snakes behind them. They balance themselves against the wall to fight off the wave of dizziness and wait for the signal of Lou Ellen. She stands by the candy aisle, browsing through an assortment of teeth-rotting delicacies, all the while brushing her hand over the air to pull them all under the guise of invisibility through the Mist. The beings step into the light once again but there’s no anxiety in doing so; the cashier won’t see them. They whisper past the shelves of snacks and junk food and approach Lou Ellen. Alex pulls out a dark green bag and quietly shifts through the snacks, pushing only his favorite ones into the sack. Nico opens a rip of darkness between the bottom and top shelf and shoves Twizzlers, gummies, and a wide assortment of chocolates in. They’re careful to keep silent; the Mist can only really hide the most bizarre of scenes, most incomprehensible of scenes. It’s not created to hide the image of three shithead teenagers very obviously committing shoplifting. A bead of sweat pops over Lou Ellen’s forehead as she shoves a pack of Starbust into Nico’s rip of darkness. “We’re gonna need to hurry,” she hisses, fingers trembling as she pushes Sour Patch Kids into Alex’s sack. “I don’t know how much longer I can hold it.” Nico sighs as they scrutinize a bottle of Coca-Cola. “I knew I should have brought Hazel with us. She would be able to help you. Sorry, Lou.” “Less talky, more stealy,” Alex mutters, opening his arms wide and shoving almost an entire shelf of candy into the tear of darkness. He fixes Nico with a glare. “Honestly, it’s like none of you have stolen before.” Lou Ellen mutters, “Sorry we haven’t exactly mastered the art of thievery.” “Speak for yourself,” Nico whispers, a smile creeping over his lips. “I’ve had my fair share of thievery when I was rogue.” Finally, when it seems like Alex’s back can’t hold anymore and the ripple of darkness that Nico opened is bursting with stomachache-inducing goodies, the three stop shoving food in. Nico tilts his head and frowns. “I think we have more than we even need.” “It’s fine,” Lou Ellen says, face turning a little red. “We don’t have time to pull it back out. We can just give it to Will and Magnus and Percy and maybe the Stolls. They’ll find a way to sell it off.” Nico snorts, eyes glimmering in amusement. “Can’t believe we’ve become candy dealers.” Alex laughs silently. “Oh, we are so bad. Maggie’s gonna be so scared of me.” Lou Ellen glares at the two of them. “Okay, yes, ha-ha. Can we go now? I’m not sure how much longer I can keep this up.” As if on cue, her eyelids flutter and her hands drop. She sways on her feet and almost collapses, but Alex is there to hold her steady. Lou Ellen wipes her face over her palm. “See? Let’s go.” Alex and Lou Ellen hesitate, watching Nico. But he gazes ahead to the cashier with his eyebrows furrowed as if deep in thought. They pull their hand into their pocket; the clinking sound of money chimes from his pockets. 
Alex raises an eyebrow. “Nico, let’s go.” 
“Hold on.” And before Alex can protest, Nico disappears into a nearby shadow, leaving only the darkness lingering behind them like smoke in the air. Alex’s heart punches against his chest with anxiety. What is wrong with him? he asks himself. Turning abruptly, Alex discovers Nico standing before the cashier, placing a pile of coins over the counter. The cashier doesn’t seem to notice Nico, perhaps fooled by the mist, but he certainly notices the new money appearing before him. His eyes widen in surprise, a panicked look overcoming his face. 
Alex facepalms. “Of course. Nico just has to go ahead and be a noble hero.” He sighs. “At least he’s quiet. Maybe the poor cashier will think it’s just a ghost giving him money.”
But then, right at that moment, Lou Ellen gasps and stumbles to the ground. A large whoosh flows through the convenience store, the sound of the Mist slipping away from her grasp. For a second, everything stills. There’s a tense hestiation in the air, as if everyone’s waiting for something to happen. Alex bites his lip.
And then the cashier screams, pushing against his chair, a look of pure fear erupting in his eyes. Nico’s eyes widen and they step back into the shadows, melting away. A second later, they pop up right next to Alex, skin pale.
He glares. “Is there something-”
Nico shakes his head and pulls a finger to their lips. “Come on, we gotta go,” they whisper. They lean in for Lou Ellen’s arm, who’s panting on the ground, and reach for Alex’s arm with his other hand. Then, before Alex can even process what’s happening, the world melts into darkness. Shadows surround them, licking their bare skin like cold flames. Nothingness surrounds them. Time is nonexistent.
And then they pop up in a cold area, darkness envelops them. The three collapse onto the ground, exhaustion spilling into their bones. 
A figure steps before them, hands on their hips. “Well, look who’s made it to the party.”
About twenty minutes later, the group has made itself comfortable on the grass of Central Park, scavenging through the loot that Alex, Nico, and Lou Ellen managed to pick up. Midnight bleeds over the sky, the only source of light being the stars that poke through the encompassing darkness. A cool breeze flows past them. Nico lies on their back, staring at the sky, trying to fend off the exhaustion threatening to pull their eyelids down. 
When the three demigods finally came to, Alex had his fair share of scolding: “Are you stupid? Do you realize what you’ve done? We could be caught! Why did you do that? Do you realize what robbing is? Putting money on the counter defeats the entire purpose!” 
It went like that for fifteen minutes, just enough time for Nico to regain his stability and stand. They shrugged and smiled. “Hey, it’s not our fault that the poor dude had nothing going for him. Besides, he’ll forget about it.” Opening a Twizzler packet, the child of Hades smirked and said, “They always do.”
Now, as he and Alex, Hazel, Rachel, and Lou Ellen circle around each other on the grass, all the anxiety of earlier fades away, replaced only by a tranquility. Alex has his arm around Rachel, the two of them munching on some Twix; Hazel leans back on her arms and watches the stars with Nico. Lou Ellen rummages through their candy pile. A comfortable silence surrounds them. 
When Rachel snorts, Nico sits up and offers her a confused look. She laughs. “I can’t believe you really threatened the entire mission. You’ve fought monsters and can’t even rob a store for just candy?” 
“Hey, fuck the rich,” he replies, stealing a gummy from Hazel’s hands. She protests but they ignore her. “The dude deserved some money. He looked like he was barely living.” Raising an eyebrow at Alex, he adds, “And that’s saying something, because we literally have a dead person here.”
“Aren’t we all dead inside, though?” Lou Ellen reasons, frowning.
“Yeah,” Nico agrees, pulling a Twizzler out from a packet next to him. Placing one end to his mouth, he says, “But he looked even more dead than the average person.”
Alex scoffs and leans his head against Rachel’s, the green locks dramatically clashing with her bright red. “As much as I want to agree with you, it was so incredibly stupid.” He lays his palms out in a placating manner. “I mean, yeah, fuck the rich, but... come on. Now the rich are gonna fuck us.” 
Nico shakes his head and chews a piece off the candy, feeling the bland sweetness of the candy sweep over his taste buds. “They won’t see anything. These things usually fix themselves with the Mist. Percy once crashed his stepdad’s car and he got away with it.”
Rachel rolls her eyes. “Yeah, only after he was chased halfway across the country.” 
“Hey, now, no need to get into the specifics.” 
Hazel laughs, her voice tinkling in the eerie quiet. “Can’t believe I’ve got an accomplice for a sibling.” Edging her toe against the grass, she adds, “Almost wish I was there.” 
“Hey, no wishing!” Rachel exclaims, frowning. “You and I had a blast robbing my dad’s car from his house. Let’s not forget that we were the most important mission. We literally got all the tagging supplies.”
“Yeah, but who got all the candy?” Alex asks, raising his eyebrows. “We got the nutritious food for you children. Honestly, Rachel, it’s like I’m the only one who cares about keeping the roof over the house.” 
“Okay, shut up.” Rachel’s fingers clamp over the ground. “Say one more word and I will throw dirt at you.” 
A daring look comes over Alex’s eyes and he raises an eyebrow. “One more word-” 
Rachel throws a fistful of muck against his face and he stumbles backward, spitting and groaning. His laughter echoes, and soon Rachel’s own giggles sprinkle into the air. 
A car blares in the background. Lights from the city blaze against the sky. Streetlamps glimmer over the outskirts of the park. The familiar electricity of New York buzzes in the air, making Nico’s blood simmer with anticipation. Euphoria fizzes within him. It’s something about hanging out with these four that makes their heart pound with excitement, makes their body glow with superfluous joy.
They lie back down again. Grass prickles the back of their head, tickles his bare hands. Laughter continues falling over him in a waterfall of sounds.
They smile. 
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toorusquill · 4 years
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hi i wanna congratulate you on 1k, i hope you gain more bc you def deserve it ! uhh so,, me + konoha, i think konoha's vibe and charisma would help me relax therefore make me more outgoing and comf around him. he would tease me and i'd def fire back. there's alot of skinship too, just to be connected to each other. and we'd prolly open up to each other with insecurities and i'd be his hype girl 24/7 and vice versa. being with him erases the uptight me and helps me be more chill ❤️(1/2)
i think dates with him would be pretty chill, no need for elaborate planning (but sometimes one of us def plan secretly to surprise the other) usually its those dates where you binge a show until 2am or sleep in on the weekend where we just have the comfort of each other. uhh,, i like arts, true crime, mythology, and reading people (like looking at random peeps and trying to figure them out). thank you so much, i hope you have a great day ! stay safe ❤️(2/2)
vera’s au assignments
your au: detective + spy au!
wherein you’re a detective and konoha’s a spy from the same agency
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- okay i imagine that the two of you are frenemies at first because your workplace was just not the best place to foster romantic connections. that AND the weird rivalry spies and detectives have (”which one is more important to the company?” “which one has a harder job?” that kind of thing)
- except with the two of you, it’s more intense because you guys like to rile each other up a lot. you definitely are forced to become partners with him because of a higher-up being tired of you guys squabbling all the time. over time you get to know him and whether you want to admit it or not, you actually really like him!! and you don’t know if that blurs into.. romantic territory but you don’t act on it 
- UNTIL you guys get assigned on a new case and your work hours with him extend. you’re now investigating a very high-profile crime: a stolen painting from a museum. besides all the paperwork you and konoha have to do, also frequent the museum that got stolen from now,, and if it weren’t for your jobs it would’ve basically been a date.
- you get a tip-off from someone that the thief is holding an auction for it at an underground party and you two have to pose as a couple for the event!! and this little situation really puts the two of you in a predicament because you don’t want to cross the lines with each other.
- so at the bidding, after you guys actually enjoy your time with each other (hey, dancing with him when both of you are all dressed up), you eventually have to blow your covers and it causes a big commotion. at this point konoha doesn’t care about hiding his feelings anymore so before he chases after the criminal, he grabs your hand, kisses it, and tells you in a teasing, BUT genuine tone
- “we should do this for real next time. meet me at the Ritz lobby next friday?” 
- you’re so stunned and also really flustered that you just stutter out a yes before yelling at him to chase after the thief aw.
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ending note: thank you so much!! <3 i hope you liked this, i enjoyed writing this for you :> (spy + detective AUs are my cup of tea hehe) 
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rose-riot-johnson · 3 years
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Hi my Tumblr Peeps😃Earlier today I decided I wanted to do art a little more often, so today's artwork I decided to make an attempt with fully drawing an anime character (who I wanted to be my very own anime character). I don't think I made my character look like she's an accurate anime character, however I think I may need some improvement with drawing my character and I'm thinking about using the drawing of her as my new profile pic for my Tumblr page😁👍Yes I did do 3 signatures. For those who don't know this I'm Amber Johnson so I figured I'd use it for my Facebook name as well 😃👍 Ofcourse all of my Tumblr Peeps (yes you😁👍) know me as Rose Riot Johnson (tough my 1st name is part of my Tumblr profile)😃👍As for just using Rose Riot, I have a discord now thanks to my husby and I go by just Rose Riot, I have been having a habit with Animal Crossing New Horizons and my character on this Animal Crossing game Rose Riot (through my Nitendo Switch console), and I basically wanted to base that character on me and I think the name Rose Riot would fit well with this character I drew😃👍 I did used to dye my hair mainly with permanent hair dye in) my hair when I was younger and blonde hair dyes are the main colors my hair and the last time I remember using permanent hair dye was an ombre which were 2 shades of blue (which I ended up bleaching my hair before the ombre process) (1/13/2017)😘🐻 Eversince then I haven't used permanent hair dye. Anyways I basically wanted to use blonde 2 blues (if you look closely) a couple yellow(even tough it may appear to just have 1 shade of yellow for some reason) and my natural hair color😃👍 Anyways I wanted to write the signatures on my artwork just because I wanted every1, including all my Tumblr Peeps to know this is my artwork and I can say it wasn't stolen. If you have comments positive comments only please and thank you 🦄🦄🦄
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17. Flightless Bird
"I've found youu, flightless bird," was the song that played from a white woman's iPhone as Erik strolled tall and proud into the gas station.. She had it playing as she stood in front of an open refrigerator in flip flops holding the glass door against her shoulder. Erik turned his attention to the man behind the counter with bumpy brown skin full of blackheads and a thicket of coarse, dark, and wiry hair. Flashing the badge that said Howard, he spotted movement from the corner of his eye. Someone in his peripheral.
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Ivy stood iced over and terrified. She couldn't make herself move though she knew in her mind she needed to run.
Run, girl, move.
She backed up a little, her eyes focused on the danger looking dead at her. Could she catch a break?
It was a big snake. A big ass snake on the ground that she had to get by without running into the road and she hated snakes. She was on the extremely narrow side of the road outside of the line on the highway praying no one hit her, but she was on her way to a meetup spot. She needed to keep going to get to a further point because she felt anxious, paranoid that the dentist was after her and that she was too near. It was why she'd left the gas station, there was too much going on and she didn't feel right.
"I'm done waiting," Ivy stood losing her patience.
"Police should be coming soon," the attendant remarked in a transparent attempt to keep her away from him but she had had enough. Enough of being fearful, enough of people not believing her, enough of police.
Fuck the police, she thought as she walked gently from the small store and looked left and right before re-entering. She didn't have a dime, credit card, or ID.
"Hey. Can you call me a cab?"
"Cab?"
"CAB. A CAB. Call me a CAB," she reiterated loudly. He knew what the fuck she was saying.
He was hesitant, looking as though she were trying to set him up. Sighing, he decided to do the humane thing though it looked like it hurt him. He slowly pulled out his phone unlocking it and grudgingly handing over. Ivy snatched it and snatched a snickers and a bag of sun chips too. They were the closest items she could grab, running as best as she could. She was starving.
She tapped the screen to keep the phone awake. He couldn't abandon the store so when she got a good distance, she stopped to take a rest to breathe. Maybe the cops would come faster now since she stole someone's shit. Maybe she needed to do a string of crime to get some attention and some assistance.
Calling her boss, she left a message explaining her situation in shorthand. She didn't know anyone else's number by heart, no one's but her brother's and that nigga was in Florida with his sheisty ass. Then on top of that, it wasn't her phone she was calling from which meant he probably wouldn't even answer it in case it was someone calling to look for him or collect money.
"Ivan!" She nearly screamed when he answered.
"Ivy?... Where you been?! I been calling you, leaving you messages. Where you calling from?"
"A stolen phone. Ivan! Remember that stalker mom told you about?"
"Yeah!"
"He kidnapped me and mom! He's tryna kill me and I'm running now 'cause my ass is scared! I tried to kill him, he's like 6'2 250 and I freaked, Ivan, I don't know if he's dead or alive or some kinda physically fucked up and I'm scared to go back. He has everything! My cards, my wallet, money, ID, keys-"
"Sis, slow down. You say this nigga.. he kidnapped you?"
"Kidnapped! He sliced my ass up like Freddy, my thigh fucked up! I'm a send you a picture!" Taking a pic with the flash, I try to send it but it won't go through because of course there's no connection or hotspot. "The picture won't send right now but-"
"Hell nah where you at, I'm a get there. Can you get somewhere like a friend's house or hotel?"
"Ivan you need a credit card to book a hotel and I card the police but they ain't shit."
"What you call the police for?! Damn, sis. Rule of the hood, you never call the feds! You wanna die?!"
"IT'S ALREADY LIFE OR DEATH, IVAN!!"
"Look I'll book the hoe, just tell me where you headed."
"You gotta pay the uber too can you use your phone to set it up? I'll tell you in a few minutes where to send it to."
---
Erik peeped over his shoulder spotting a little girl next to a figure he'd initially ignored. She looked at him and that was when he knew he was right in what he'd wanted. He could have one of those things if he wanted.. one of his own. He'd teach it and feed it and raise it. It couldn't be too difficult. Perhaps it'd take after him and have an interest in the arts.. he could see it in his mind's eye. He'd provide limitless canvases.
The thought excited him. He'd be a mentor and enrich the next generation, showing the world the meaning of true artistic vision, he and his protege. His seed.
Unlike his damned mother, he'd nurture the gift.. not fear it. She didn't deserve a child as brilliant as he. She couldn't handle it or see the blessing for what it was and in the end.. it cost her her life.
He threw a packet of lifesavers on the counter looking at the attendant.
"You reported an injured woman.. I don't see an injured woman..," Erik glared.
"Yes, I called and reported a woman who came in with the blood on her clothing and on her thigh?" Get to the point. "She was black woman," he gestured, "She stole from me, she took my-," I don't care. "My phone and ran ou-"
"About how long ago?" Erik's stare was pressuring.
"It was about- It was about fifteen minutes ago.. What about my phone?"
Fuck your phone.
"An injured young lady is wandering about and you're concerned about a phone?" Erik's squint shamed the man and silenced him all at once. "Do you have any sort of tracker on it?"
"Yes. It has happened before, my phone being stolen, so I installed what is an app to help me to-"
"Yeah aight take this phone and do what you gotta do.." Erik handed over Ivy's phone watching as the attendant worked his magic to point him in the direction of the lost young lady.
"Very effective app," Erik commented watching the guy work. He tuned out completely once the guy started his story about his last time being robbed. "Alright," he cut in interrupting one of the most uninteresting tales of the year, "When I locate the young lady we'll get her some medical attention and it should be pretty easy to return your phone to you.
"You need information? To write in a- uh report?"
The reminder had Erik itching to leave. He had his hot trail and he wasn't actually an officer.
"Yes, let me take that info," he nodded with a snap, "Oh gee, seems I need to head to my cruiser. Give me a second will ya?"
Exiting the store with the mints in hand, unpaid for, he quickly climbed into the car with a shake of his head and pulled away.
@dessianna1 @twistedcharismaaa @soufcakmistress
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javic-piotr-thane · 4 years
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Torchwood Soho - the entire VORTEX article
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TORCHWOOD HAS had the honour of being populated by larger than life characters over the years. We’ve met Captain Jack Harkness and Yvonne Hartman, plus Gwen Cooper, Toshiko Sato, Owen Harper and Susie Costello on television. And Big Finish has given us Mr Colchester, Ng and Orr – as well as the one and only Norton Folgate.
We had a glimpse of bygone Torchwood in 2018’s audio release, Goodbye Piccadilly, in which Norton dragged his friend Sergeant Andy Davidson back in time to Soho in the 1950s. And now we turn back the clock again to witness Norton accompanied by Andy in Torchwood Soho. Tom Price reprises his role as Andy, joining Samuel Barnett (Dirk Gently in the BBC series) as Norton. Gangsters are vanishing from the streets of Soho, there’s a deadly Nazi secret on the loose, and something’s moving in the smog. Norton Folgate should be sorting this out, but the Torchwood agent is in disgrace. Who’s going to save London this time?
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Torchwood Soho – Parasite contains six stories: The Man From Room 13, Meet Mr Lyme, The Mould, The Spread, The Dead Hand and The Liberty of Norton Folgate.
Vortex asks writer/producer James Goss at what point did he think that Andy and Norton should get their own series? James explains: “Actually, everyone’s been so kind about the relationship between Norton and Andy, that it really didn’t take much arm-twisting to convince Big Finish to let us spend three blissful days in studio with Sam and Tom.
“The fabulous thing about Torchwood as a franchise is that it spans a huge period, and there are chunks of it that are just worth exploring. We vaguely glimpsed 1950s Torchwood in the Doctor Who TV episode, The Idiot’s Lantern, and this new release is a real peep under the murky, awful bonnet.”
James has been particularly pleased by the reception Norton has had from listeners: “Thrilled, blown away, boggled – and that’s just in reaction to some of the fan art on Tumblr! Seriously, it’s weird to have sort of created a Torchwood character that wasn’t on TV who the Big Finish listeners are dying to hear more of and who has a following of his own. I’d love to say it’s all down to the writing, but really it’s down to Sam’s performance and his rapport with Tom. They’re just audio magic, aren’t they?
“As it’s set in the 1950s, it was obvious to follow the rhythm of the Quatermass serials – so there are six half-hour episodes. And, in the tradition of Quatermass, we start out in an office and end with the world in peril.
“We get to see Norton hunting down alien artefacts stolen by Nazis, escaping from a timetravelling pub, and battling zombies in Margate. We get to meet Norton’s boss (played by Dervla Kirwan) and the hapless leader of Torchwood Soho (David Troughton) – who both share a terrible secret. And we get to discover why Torchwood hid the Skylon at the Festival of Britain. Norton’s also trying to avoid the attentions of a journalist (played by Joe Shire) who is determined to uncover what Torchwood is. Norton’s in a whole lot of trouble – and this time he needs Andy to help him.”
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Scott Handcock has been responsible for directing the series. How did he find bringing this volume – effectively a period piece – to life? He grins: “Maybe it’s just because I’ve done a lot of Doctor Who, where you’re constantly flitting all over space and time, but I’m not sure I really register the difference! Obviously, you’re aware of the period and need to convey that in the world you build and characters you cast, but it’s the same approach as creating a civilisation of reptilian aliens in the far future. The script sets up the rules and everyone plays by them. If anything, period pieces are often a bit easier because everyone has a frame of reference. Though having said that, it also means you have to really do your homework.
“The 50s is a fascinating period. Yes, you have a bit more Received Pronunciation – especially with Norton, who throws in a dash of Polari every so often – but there’s a lovely mix of characters in this script, covering various classes and backgrounds. Belle Epoch (gloriously portrayed by Franchi Webb) is a character who you could probably only bring to life in this era. People own those identities more – a lot of them are hiding things and putting up barriers – which makes characters like Andy and Gideon more relatable as our identification figures.”
Tom Price is delighted that not only does Sergeant Andy continue to feature in Torchwood, but he’s also a series lead. He admits: “The listeners really like what Big Finish is doing with Torchwood, which means we can rock up and do more. It’s amazing that the world of Torchwood has been built on good foundations and we can keep adding to it.
“I watched The X Files back in the day, and Star Trek: The Next Generation, as they can reboot and keep going forever and ever. If something is built well, it will last, and that’s exactly what’s happening with Torchwood. It’s got a good engine, and you can tweak it here and there so we can take the cast and put them into a new setting.
“Norton is such a great personality – he was never on TV and I think Sam Barnett is slightly annoyed about that! Characters like him have just got that thing, where they’re big and funny and very memorable.
“I love our team of Scott and James. James is a magnificent writer – he has such a brilliant ear for a story and putting these worlds together. If he was writing music he would be Guy Chambers! And Scott understands the characters better than you or I do. A lot of directors throw way too much stuff at you, but Scott has a good hand on the tiller and will give you a couple of points that can change your performance. I just love going into this created world, and having such fun.”
SCOTT ENJOYS the dynamic between Sam and Tom, in particular. He says: “I think it’s fair to say that Sam and Tom hit it off instantly. Even before Ghost Mission (their first Torchwood together), they met at the recording of Doctor Who: Nightshade and it was clear they enjoyed working together – and that’s only grown the more we’ve done. There’s a shorthand between them that comes from having recorded a lot together, and that trust means they can push the material further. It also means when we get new characters coming in, and the actors see what Sam and Tom are bringing to it, they relax and feel able to give that little bit extra, which is kind of what you need when you’re projecting an entire performance through your voice.”
Scott adds: “It’s a lovely change of pace for Torchwood. I remember the old BBC Sexton Blake dramas, and that slightly pulpy, serialised style they had, so when James first mooted this I suggested we do it as a six-part serial of half-hour episodes. It moves along at one hell of a lick! And as always with James’s scripts, the humour is contrasted with some genuine horror and drama. It’s a really strong character piece and, as a director, has some fantastic set pieces that test you as you leap around the schedule. One of the biggest highlights was getting Dervla Kirwan in to play Lizbeth Heyhoe. She fell in love with the script and said it’s absolutely the kind of part she’d never get seen for on screen – and we just had an absolute blast. It was our first Big Finish together, though obviously when I had to recast Miss Quill in Class, she was my immediate first choice. She’s simply amazing. The entire cast just got it…”
And James concludes: “Honestly, it was just three days of bliss in a studio with a great set of actors.” VORTEX
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elliemehl · 4 years
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[gives you both smooches and smoothies]!! i already voted on the poll, but I absolutely adore all the options... I just prefer the stolen times one bc I love crying,, let's go emotional peeps! I'll honestly enjoy absolutely anything you end up doing tho!! I'm a lil late, but also super excited to see how the child requests turn out :-D ~kiss a., dropping by to give you a dash of positivity and wish you a good day
sipping my smoothie, enjoying the smooches
Thank you for taking time to vote my dear! you’re opinion is indeed very important to me ❤️ somehow I knew what your preference would lay (maybe because it’s my preference too haha ugly cry pals) but just be clear, I’m still going to work at each project regardless! But I needed to figure out where to lead my efforts first, this blog is my art space but it lives through my followers support, I’d like you all to be part of my creative process this time 😊
Also don’t worry about missing the opening for the kiddo requests, we’re doing it again once I’m done with these!
I send you kisses and good vibes for your day my dear 💕
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rosedavid · 5 years
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Idk if anyone has done this yet, but can you make a tyrus fic, where tj is jealous of jonah knowing cyrus was gay before he did
I’m gonna change this a little bit to TJ being jealous of Cyrus’s crush on Jonah.
“I never thought that I’d be willingly hanging out with TJ Kippen,” Buffy comments, “Yet here I am.”
“And who saw the good in him first?” Cyrus peeps up.
Andi and Buffy both groan, and Andi says, “You don’t have to remind us every two minutes, Cy. We haven’t forgotten.”
“Well I think it’s adorable,” TJ mentions, eyes never leaving Cyrus 
“You think everything he does is adorable,” Buffy replies. 
“Yup, basically.” 
It’s a Saturday afternoon, and the group is at a movie premiere that they’ve been dying to go to for ages. Before, Jonah was going to go with them, strictly a friends only hang out night. Then, Jonah came down with the flu, and they didn’t want to waste the ticket. Cyrus immediately suggests bringing TJ before anyone else has a chance to chime in. 
“Remember, this is still a friends night, which means no PDA,” Buffy reminds them, eyeing TJ in particular. 
TJ puts his hands up in mock offense. “Hey, I can’t help it if Cyrus’s is too sweet to handle.”
Buffy rolls her eyes, punching his shoulder playfully, although it will still probably leave a bruise. Recently, both Andi and Buffy have become much closer with Cyrus’s boyfriend, much to Cyrus’s pleasure. Many times, Buffy and TJ will bond over basketball, while TJ and Andi will bond over art and music. Sometimes Cyrus thinks they like TJ more than him. Of course, if TJ ever wants to join the GHC, he’ll have to stop coating his hair back with gel. 
“You two are sickeningly adorable,” Andi decides. “Amber and I aren’t nearly this bad, right?”
Buffy, TJ, and Cyrus all stare at her with disbelief. Andi sighs, “Oh look, the line’s moving!”
Sure enough, despite the sudden change of topic, the line does start to move. Now, instead of standing outside in the heat, the group finally enters the building where the AC blasts at full force. 
“What is this movie, anyway?” TJ wonders. 
“Only the most waited for movie adaption of the year!” Cyrus rattles off. “It’s about these average kids who have powers, but they don’t know it.”
“Like superheroes?” 
“Kind of, but also not at all. You’ll see, just wait!” 
They only need to wait for about ten more minutes before they get inside the theatre. Already, nearly all the seats are full. Somehow, though, they manage to find four seats together on the very end. They chat idly as they wait for the movie to begin, watching the previews with half interest. 
“Hey, that kid looks like Jonah,” Andi comments. “Isn’t that one of the actors in the movie we’re going to watch?”
“Yup,” Buffy says. “Better be careful, TJ, or Cyrus’s affections may be taken once more.”
Confused, TJ asks, “Why would ‘Cyrus’s affections’ be taken by someone who looks like Jonah?”
Buffy and Andi look at each other, terrified. Meanwhile, Cyrus shuffles in his seat, pointedly looking anywhere but TJ, who now stares at him. 
Guiltily, Andi sighs, “I’m sorry, Cyrus, we thought he knew--”
“Knew what?” TJ frowns, growing more and more confused by the second. Is there some huge secret that Cyrus is keeping from him.
Finally realizing that there’s nothing he can to do mend this situation, Cyrus takes TJ’s hand. “Before I liked you, I had a crush on Jonah. He’s kinda how I figured out that I’m gay.”
It’s funny because TJ always assumed he was Cyrus’s first male crush. After all, Cyrus’s was his (at least the first one he realized was a crush). He never even considered the possibility that another boy had stolen Cyrus’s heart first. Not to mention, said boy is best friends with Cyrus still. What if Cyrus isn’t completely over Jonah? 
TJ slips his hand away. Cyrus frowns, reaching for his shoulder, but TJ just shrugs him off. There has to be a reason that Buffy and Andi were teasing him about Jonah. Cyrus must still like him. What if TJ was just a backup plan? What if, once Jonah reciprocates his feelings, Cyrus leaves him?
Even though he’s had his fair share of jealous moments in their relationship, nothing compares to the jealousy forming inside him currently. TJ sees Jonah all the time in passing. Cyrus and Jonah hang out all the time by themselves, too. 
“TJ? What’s wrong?” Cyrus whispers. “Please, talk to me.”
“The movie’s starting.”
The entire movie feels wrong to all of them. Buffy and Andi pick up on their lack of affection toward each other from the very beginning. No hand holding, no soft giggles in each other’s ears, no feeding each other pieces of popcorn. They’re both stiff and straight forward. Despite the fact that they’re sitting in seats right beside each other, they’ve never felt so far apart. 
For both TJ and Cyrus, the movie drags on forever. Cyrus, so worried about TJ, can’t focus on anything happening in the movie. He just hopes that TJ doesn’t hate him now. Meanwhile, TJ also can’t focus because his mind is too fixated on the idea of Jonah and Cyrus. He’s never felt any reason to be jealous, but powerful crushes typically don’t just go away, at least not in TJ’s experience. 
By the time the movie ends, TJ and Cyrus storm out of the theatre. The girls look at each other, still feeling guilty about the whole situation. They nod briefly at each other before going to divide and conquer. 
“Cyrus? You okay?” Andi asks, peering around the corner where Cyrus sits, knees curled up to his chest. 
“Yeah,” He murmurs. “Just worried. TJ seemed to hate me after what I told him, but I don’t understand why.”
Andi sighs, coming to sit down against the wall next to him. Honestly, half the time she doesn’t understand boys. They are the most oblivious people she’s ever encountered. Anyone with eyes can see how obviously in love TJ and Cyrus are with each other except for themselves. 
“You poor, dumb boy,” Andi clicks. “How do you not get it?”
“Get what?”
Andi rolls her eyes, scooting closer to him. “TJ is jealous of Jonah.”
Cyrus’s forehead creases. “Jealous? Why would he be jealous? I don’t like Jonah anymore.”
“But does he know that?”
“I mean, I thought so. I’m dating him, not Jonah.”
Andi pats his shoulder. “I think you just need to talk to him about it. Obviously, it’s just a misunderstanding, but he needs to know that.”
“How do I explain it to him? TJ, I don’t like Jonah anymore? What if he doesn’t believe me?”
“You’ll know what to say in the moment, Cy, you always do.”
Andi pulls him into a side hug. Cyrus leans into her touch, dropping his head briefly on her shoulder. They knock their heads together, grinning at each other. No matter what happens, Andi and Buffy always know how to make Cyrus feel better. 
Cyrus stands up, stretching briefly before hurrying to find TJ so he can explain everything.
“TJ?”
From the alleyway, a dark figure mutters out, “What are you doing here, Buffy?”
“Well that’s a warm welcome.”
“Sorry I’m not in a talky mood,” He says sarcastically. 
For a moment, he sounds just like the TJ he used to be when they first met him. Rude, arrogant, snobby, and an all around jerk. Buffy inhales, trying to calm herself before just yelling at him. He’s not the same person anymore. 
“You know, when Cyrus told me he didn’t have a crush on Jonah anymore, it really surprised me,” Buffy begins. “I mean, that boy was so smitten with Jonah Beck.”
From his spot on the ground, TJ glares at her. “Not helping Buffy!”
“Just wait,” She pacifies. “Anyway, he pined over Jonah for such a long time, but with Jonah it was always far away infatuation. I think, as he got to know Jonah as a friend, maybe he began to realize that his feelings were toward the enigma, the popular kid ‘Jonah Beck’. But with you, things were always different. He helped you become better, he grew to love you. His crush didn’t arise out of something as artificial, it came from getting to know the real you.”
TJ’s mouth hangs open, obviously at a loss for words. He stammers for a bit, trying to come up with something eloquent to say. Buffy smirks at him, hand going to rest on her hip. 
“Wow,” TJ finally settles on. “I just...wow. Do you really think that’s true?”
“Of course, TJ. I may not have always been your biggest fan, but now I know the real you. I know what Cyrus saw in you all this time.”
“Don’t go forming a crush on my, Driscoll.”
Buffy grimaces in disgust. “Ugh, please. Never say that again. It makes me gag just thinking about it.”
TJ laughs with a sniffle, standing up. He smiles, holding out a fist for Buffy to bump. 
“I need to find Cyrus and apologize!” He realizes suddenly, glancing around quickly. 
“I have a feeling he’s already searching for you, too.”
“Cyrus!”
“TJ!”
Both on a quest to find each other, the instant they lock eyes they call out, rushing toward one another. In fact, Cyrus barely manages to skid to a stop to avoid crashing into TJ. 
“I’m so glad I found you,” Cyrus pants, bending over to rest his hands on his knees. “I...I need to tell you something.”
“No, I need to apologize,” TJ says. “I was being jealous for no reason. We’re dating, after all, not you and Jonah.”
“It wasn’t stupid. If I were in your position, I’d probably be jealous, too. I need to tell you, though, that my feelings for Jonah have been gone for a long time. Plus, my feelings for you have always been stronger. I’ve never felt such a strong connection. I like you so much.”
“I like you, too, underdog. I like you so much.”
From the edge of the building, Andi and Buffy high five when they see TJ and Cyrus lean in to kiss and make up. 
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