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megatowonus · 2 years

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i’m very sorry if anyone followed me for serious art

#transformers #deadlock #megatron #starscream #tfp #idw1 #uhhh #gun tw #profanity tw #my art #i've peaked as an artist i think

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jamesaugustbennett · 17 hours

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closed starter for @briarreed where - His and Briar's apartment when - In the middle of the night

Just one. Maybe two. A bottle, or a few.

James drank.

A man lost in the dessert, praying to god for rain. Though nothing could satiate the ravenous thirst of a beast; rattled by memories and familiar town streets.

Home.

James needed to go home.

He toppled from the bar's front door a mess, the stumble of his steps as jumbled as his mind.

Home. Home. Home.

In an instant he was somewhere different, though not at all where he intended.

With a BANG Jamie's head collided with the underside of a closet's shelf

Profanity followed as a man much too large for an overfilled bedroom's closest busted through the door and fell into the floor of place he couldn't call home; anymore.

#In the middle of the night #in my dreams #You should see the things we do #i had to reference twswift ok #its the law #briarreed #Wonderin' if I dodged a bullet or just lost the love of my life — Briar #convos #tw alcohol #alcohol tw #tw profanity #profanity tw

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nobully · 1 year

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hiii~ i got bored and found ace attorney bot so i adapted an old crack!conversation from this post into a courtroom scene between wang yi, @nicawlette, @schleckermaul, and @archaictold

link to view it is here or you can just click beneath the readmore to see the uploaded version. warnings: profanity, death threats, (very) mild suggestive content, the girls are fighting, etc.

~ video ~

#system records;#crack;#violence tw #death threats tw #blood mention #profanity tw #wang yi;

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sparkiekong · 2 years

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Live, For the Last Time 3/7

Nickie looks over at him, “Yeah, the monster one that wanted information on the Robinsons. I think he’s been working with the flying lady this whole time, as we suspected.”

Nick looks at her, his Angel, and her desire to serve the people was admirable. One of the things he loved about her. “Listen Angel, there's no time to call the station, they'll be airing that bullshit news that’s been going on all day. We should do uh…. we can do a uh... live flow... live thing... whatever they're called and tell everybody. You got more followers than any other news lady!”

Nickie looks over at him, “Yes! YES! A live stream from my social media.”

She leaned for a kiss that caused him to set the cigar down and rise up to meet her embrace. “You’re brilliant Nicky! That’s what we’ll do. It’s better than nothing. I’ll probably get fired, but who cares. If he’s right… we’re all about to get fired anyway. At least this way people can say goodbye to their loved ones.”

Nick looks even more grim, if possible. “Guess I shoulda smoked that Sulanian today, if I knew these were my last moments....”

Nickie turned around to him, “After the stream! I need you to hold the phone for me… we can drink, smoke, and fuck till we end, ok?”

She pulls him up the stairs to the outside without letting him pick up his cigar.

Nick raised an eye, “Oh....”

Nick thinks, “I knew that I'd come to a sticky end in this miserable District. The only thing that makes me happy is that the other lowlife scumbags are gonna be taken out too. And most importantly, me and my news angel, living our last few moments together... I just gotta hold the damn phone and then... we're set.”

Nickie is straightening out her shirt and preparing, “Nickie Catzenberg, has one final report to do!”

Nick thinks, “If the gods are real... I hope they can forgive me all my sins. And I got a lot to forgive, and I intend to add a few more sins to the list before I'm incinerated.”

#tac #the axiom conclusion #crossover #the tomorrow men #helenofsimblr #sims 4 #ts4 story #sims 4 story #KSU #smoking tw #profanity tw #curse words tw

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greenix · 2 years

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Nice vacation idea Mewtwo and Silver maybe with some other friends going to rainbow team rockets universe to kick their asses ( with maybe interesting look at verions of them from that universe)

I would pay to see that happen and I'm sure Gladion would livestream it for me if I asked nicely

there is a LONG list of people signing up to go kick their asses believe me a lot of people were messed up by those villains collectively

#profanity tw #aspect au #pokemon asks

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fxtelism-moved · 2 years

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“F*ck!~” Quatra saw someone saying this, so she thought she should join too.

#quatra vc: big sis doing this so i do too!#( dash commentary. )#( ic. )#;quatra #( crack. )#profanity tw

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atdutiesend · 2 years

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{ Character Study Chart: Speech }

Number of Spoken Languages: 1 / 2 / 3 + [Traditional Xaela, Yanxian, Hingashi, Eorzean/Common, Thieves’ Cant] Tone of Voice: High / Average / Deep Accent: Yes / Soft / No [Primarily low-class Hingan]

Demeanor: Confident / Shy / Approachable / Hostile / Other

Posture: Slumped / Straight / Stiff / Relaxed

Habits: Head tilting / Swaying / Fidgeting / Stuttering / Gesturing / Arm crossing / Strokes chin / Er, um, or other interjections / Plays with hair / Clothing / Hands at hips / Inconsistent eye contact / Maintains eye contact / Frequent pausing / Stands close / Stands at distance

Complexity:

Vocabulary: ◼ ◼ ◼ ◼ ◻ (Depends on language, more basic in Eorzean) Emotion: ◼ ◼ ◼ ◼ ◼ (Brash and vivacious) Sentence Structure: ◼ ◼ ◼ ◻ ◻ (Again, simpler in Eorzean) Profanity: ◼ ◼ ◼ ◼ ◻ Frequency: ◼ ◼ ◼ ◻ ◻ Creativity: ◼ ◼ ◼ ◻ ◻

Bold all that apply: Arse, Ass, Asshole, Bastard, Bitch, Bloody, Bugger, Bollocks, Chicken Shit, Crap, Cunt, Dick, Dickhead, Frick, Fuck, Horseshit, Motherfucker, Piss, Prick, Screw, Shit, Shitass, Son of a Bitch, Twat, Wanker, Pussy, Dipshit, Bullcrap

Given proper religious context: Christ on a bike, Christ on a cracker, Damn, Goddamn, Godsdamn, Hell, Holy shit, Jesus, Jesus Christ, Jesus H Christ, Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ, Lord Sithis have mercy. Jesus, Mary and Joseph, Sweet Jesus, Seven Hells, Entities [Azim’s sagging/moldy ballsack, Nhaama’s frosty cunt]

This or That: Contractions or Enunciation? Straightforward or Cryptic? Jargon or Toned? Complexity or Simplicity? Finding the right word or Using the first word that comes to mind? Masculinity, Neutrality, or Femininity? Formalities or Abrasiveness? Praise or Equivocation? Frankness or Lies? Excessive or Minimal hand gestures? Name-Calling or Magnanimity? Friendly or Blunt nicknames?

Important Questions:

Do People Have a Hard Time Understanding or Hearing Your Character?

Almost always / Frequently / Sometimes [They like to troll with Thieves’ Cant] / Rarely / Never

Does Your Character’s Point Come Across Easily When They Speak?

Almost always / Frequently / Sometimes / Rarely / Never

Would Your Character Initiate Conversations?

Almost always / Frequently / Sometimes / Rarely / Never

Would Your Character Be The One to End Conversations?

Almost always / Frequently / Sometimes / Rarely / Never

Would Your Character Use ‘Whom’ in a Sentence?

Yes / No / Only Ironically

Your Character Wants to Make a Counterpoint. What Word Do They Use?

But / Though / Although / However / Perhaps / Mayhaps

How Does Your Character End Conversations?

Walk away / Ask if that’s everything / Say that that’s everything / Give a proper goodbye / Tell their company they’re done here / Remain quiet / They don’t

How Does Your Character Address Others?

Titles / First Names / Surnames / Full Names / Nicknames

What Social Class Would Others Assume Your Character Belongs to, Hearing Them Speak?

Upper / Middle / Working / Lower

In What Ways Does The Way Your Character Speak Stand Out to Others?

Accent / Vocabulary / Tone / Level / Politeness / Brusqueness / It doesn’t

Stole it off of @surpassing-limits

#about dove #cryptidposting #out of cryptids #longpost #profanity tw #{ dove and grim both have hell accents #just very different ones }

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theloveinc · 2 months

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OlderDad!Bakugou who gets a haircut and his baby doesn't recognize him and he doesn't want his dad to pick him up 😭😭😭😭😭😭

Bakugou has a cry in the bathroom and you have to spend the rest of the night consoling him.

Also Hiiiiiii, miss u, hope youre gooooood

head in my hands bc of this, just thought abt bakugo growing out his hair a little bit right after baby's birth...takes him months to go and get a real haircut cuz he doesn't wanna burden you more than he already has and by the time he's okay with the thought (but only for "AN HOUR MAX," is what he says), he has a mullet thing going on and all this scruff on his chin🥺🥺🥺

so he gets home with his regular ol' haircut, maybe a little shorter just to account for ... not wanting to go again so soon, and baby's HOLLERING bloody murder as soon as they see him and refusing to be taken out of your arms, doing that thing where they're flipping their face back and forth to dodge a kiss...

it's so tragic bc not even a little cheek nuzzling helps to calm them bc bakugo's CLEAN SHAVEN and smells like aftershave instead of like dad when he tries!!!!!!

and after, you watch him kinda sulk into the bathroom, thinking like aw yeah thats a bummer but also pretty funny, too (esp bc the haircut does look good🫣🤓), AND HE DOESN'T COME OUT FOR LIKE an hour???

....until you finally have to ask him if he's okay in there and you're opening the door to him sitting on the toilet seat, arms crossed and red cheeks a little streaky with tears...

LJFKASDJFADSJK it's the cutest, most sad sight you ever did see!! ofc Bakugo tries to deny it, but the way he tears up again (after you're done assuring him he did nothing wrong) when his baby finally realizes it's him and smiles (and then how he refuses to give them up again until bedtime) has his ass. EXPOSED.

(i love and miss u more than air, earth, water, dirt + HOPE YOU'RE GOOD TOO BESTIE ILY)

#bakugo #HI PYGMY THIS WAS INSANE OF U TO SAY THANK U PYGMY MY BFFL #but sorry u said this and i had to rip the idea right out of your hands and put it straight into my mouth #i feel like i'm high on a drug i really do #bakugo doing that thing where he he refuses to leave baby or u for long periods and fights being told to go do something nice for himself #he's showing up to his first guys night in like 6 months and doesn't know what do with himself #needs a baby picture once and hour #and he gets home to baby asleep in the crib and YES he's upset he missed bedtime but also like. wow. alone time with y/n.#and he just wants to hold u🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 and watch a movie and be together #and he;s finally at a point in his life when he's able to admit vulnerability and talks abt feeling like an inadequate dad.#and finally u just have to shut him up by fuc-[redacted for profanity]#oh my god gonna think abt this all night #ALL NIGHT I LOVE U PYGMY #caitie things #kids tw #gen #pygmy lurks

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comatosebunny09 · 4 months

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with a pretty bow on top | astarion a.

summary: you’ve never been particularly good at wrapping things. but you want to ensure your friends have the best gifts of all, including a certain snarky elf who’s difficult to please. genre(s): romance, fluff, modern au, friends to (possible) lovers warning(s): alcohol, profanity, mentions of blood, mutual pining notes: merry chrysler! i hope everyone has a lovely christmas! thank you so much for reading! screenshot credit

For the umpteenth time, the paper rips.

And for the umpteenth time, you feel this is a lost cause. Deflate like a balloon, a sigh rushing past your lips.

You’ve never been particularly good at wrapping things. Usually had your mother or roommate to carry that burden.

You routinely opt for gift bags. Easier to drop a present inside, dress it up with pretty tissue paper and a witty card, and go about your business.

But you made a terrible mistake, forgoing the convenience store in your haste to get to your Airbnb.

It’s a tucked-away cabin in the woods. Secluded and ominous, shrouded by the night. The pristine blanket of snow building outside makes up for its creepiness. It’s nice to be away from the city, too, surrounded by people you adore. People who’ve filled the space between your ribs for years.

On cue, their merriment reaches your ears, streaming from the kitchen.

They’re hammered. You should be, too. But you want to ensure your friends have the best gifts of all. Wrapped neatly and tucked beneath the Christmas tree, waiting to be ripped open come morning.

You huff, balling up another sheet of paper and chucking it.

Errant pieces of tape litter your clothing. Strips of foil wrapping paper gleam in the light emitted from the fireplace. The ribbons you haphazardly cut shift in the ceiling fan’s breeze. Your battlefield.

The medium-sized box sitting between your spread legs leers at you condescendingly. You fold your arms, nudging it with your foot.

“I’m not your bitch,” you mutter, turning your nose up with a scowl.

“Well, that’s no way to greet an old friend.”

You start, your attention pilfered by the man wandering towards you.

He paints an ethereal picture in the firelight, curls flouncing about and glowing like a halo around his head. A bottle of wine and two Bordeaux glasses greet you from between his fingers. He wears that effervescent smirk beneath round frames. Brow pitches up with amusement, gait flamboyant whilst the kitchen blurs behind him.

You swallow, your lips trembling around a greeting when he plops down beside you. Cross-legged, scooting closer like a friend bearing gossip. Fills your lungs with the smell of brandy and cracked vanilla beans. He’s naturally corpse-cold, but the slightest bit of warmth radiates off his skin, permeating through the layers of your clothes.

Must’ve fed on something viscous wandering the woods before he found you.

He brings you back when he pushes a glass into your hand.

“I was wondering where you’d wandered off to,” Astarion purrs, his tone colored with alcohol. With your breath held in your esophagus, you watch as he pops the stopper off the bottle with a pointed tooth. Spits it out. “Mind if I impede on your party of one?”

Your lips twitch. Like you’d ever say no to him. “Course not.”

And no, you do not nearly jump some 50 feet out of your skin when limber fingers curl around yours, bringing the glass up for him to fill it. He catches your stare over the rim, scarlet spun eyes alight with mischief. You look away as heat branches up your neck.

The dark liquid sloshes about as he fills his own glass. Fizzles, the sweet fragrance curling around your nose. “Finally, some good shit,” you breathe, taking a sip. Release a content sound as it bubbles on the back of your tongue. The burn of it washes over your nerves, loosening them.

Astarion scoffs, leaning back on the hand he positioned behind you. Adam’s apple bobs in your peripheral as he takes a swig. He redirects his attention to you, something of a pout occupying his lips. “Darling, you wound me. As if I would bring anything worse than that cheap excuse for booze you lot rave about. Four Loko, was it?”

You snicker, nursing your glass. Turn the stem between your fingers, examining the hardwood floor beneath.

Sure, he’s always had this thing with you. This way of squeezing himself beneath your skin where no one else could, turning you into some flustered mess. But you can’t deny you’ve missed his company. His eccentricities. His smell.

The years have dragged you all apart. Pushed you in different directions, your careers casting you out to sea. But like driftwood, you all floated back to shore. United under the same roof to celebrate Christmas and usher in the new year.

It’s a pleasant sensation, idling with the wine warming your veins.

The hum of his voice eases through your musings. “Mm, what’s this about?” Astarion queries around another mouthful of wine, signaling to the massacre at your feet.

You shrink. An uneasy smile rounds your cheeks. “Yeah, about that. Kinda got carried away.”

“Carried away? By the hells, it looks like you got into a fight with a pair of scissors and…lost. Abysmally.”

You snort. “Alright, alright. Take it easy. We can’t all be gifted with our hands like some people, Mister Art Teacher.”

Your stomach plummets. Blood turns to ice. The double entendre hits you like a sack of coal. You bring your glass to your lips to mask your unease. To mask the shakiness of your limbs.

Astarion exudes smugness, admiring his nails with a flourish of his fingers. “Well, these hands aren’t just made for sculpting works of art, my dear.”

You sputter, speckles of wine flying everywhere.

Astarion chuckles, the sound of it smooth as velvet. Leans closer, his elbow brushing your thigh as he reaches for something in front of you. You stiffen, biting the rim of your glass. It’s almost like you two haven’t been friends for years. Haven’t seen each other bleed, cry, piss, for God’s sake.

“Come,” beckons Astarion, taking up a roll of wrapping paper and plucking the box from between your legs.

You huff a disbelieving laugh. “What are you doing?”

He scoffs. Side-eyes you as if it’s as apparent as night and day. “Well, clearly, no one’s taught you the art of wrapping a bloody gift. I mean, look at this. A child could do better.”

Your shoulders touch your ears. Astarion’s disapproval is akin to upsetting your parents. Even after all this time apart, he still knows how to lay the insults on thick.

It’s kind of comical how he grumbles like an embittered old woman, unraveling some of the paper. Still methodical in everything he does, positioning the box in the center. Concentration pulls his brows together. “Fetch me that tape.”

You give him an incredulous look. “You’re lucky you’re cute,” you relent before doing as he demanded instructed. His fingers ghost over your hand in pursuit of the tape, and you bristle.

Astarion goes into full scholar mode hereon, paper rippling around him as he cuts away. Moves like a butler masterfully laying out a tablecloth. No trace of inebriation lies in the shift of his fingers. It’s as if he hadn’t polished off a bottle of brandy before finding you.

“Typically, wrapping paper comes with a template. A set of squares or lines you can use to gauge where you need to cut.”

He gestures for the scissors. You scramble for them like a student eager to please their instructor.

“Depending on how precise you want the wrapping to be, you must trim off as much excess as possible whilst ensuring you have enough left to cover your parcel.”

“Interesting.”

You angle yourself closer, sitting up on your haunches. The bulb of your glass grows warm, stained with your fingerprints. You nod, genuinely intrigued. Chin finds the pocket of his shoulder—an affectionate gesture amongst longtime friends.

Astarion tenses. You wince, flinching away.

“Sorry.”

“No, no. It’s quite alright, darling.” He clears some phlegm from his throat. Squeezes your kneecap, presenting you with a fraction of a smile. Dragonflies tickle the lining of your stomach. He resumes his lesson as if his muscles aren’t pulled taut.

Your lips twitch. Seems Astarion’s not the only one capable of disarming those around him.

You cant your head along the slope of his shoulder, watching him work with the curiosity of a child.

“It helps to tape here.” Carefully, he layers a strip of tape near the edge of the box where paper meets cardboard. “So as to keep your paper from shifting.”

As Astarion leads on, you find yourself terribly distracted. Your vision ebbs and flows. Body buzzes. From his proximity or the wine, you’re unsure. It’s a pleasant sensation, nonetheless.

The cacophony of the cabin and your friends fade into a dull hum. Only the rumble of Astarion’s voice fills the wrinkles of your brain. He’s surprisingly nurturing despite how he outwardly projects himself to the world. Soothing as he speaks to you, gaze occasionally flitting your way to ensure you’re still with him.

Try as you might to focus, you find your lids drooping, your vision blurred around the edges. An inebriated smile teases your lips. You could fall below the inky depths of sleep like this, led into it by his voice. Still would feel perfectly safe on your descent, knowing he’d be there to haul you back to the surface.

You sit up to take him in. To observe the furrow of his brows, the coil of his lashes. The gilded lenses perched on his nose like a librarian. His mouth pulls into a tight line while he focuses. Plump and petal pink. Skin’s still smooth and dewy, glowing in the firelight like he’s descended from heaven. His hands move seemingly of their own volition. Caught in a dance he knows all too well, still pretty and delicate-looking, untouched by time.

You imagine what they’d feel like, clasped in yours. Thumb cruising over the grooves of your knuckles, pushing reassuring beneath your skin. How he’d look with a careless smile, whispering the sweetest supplications into the crown of your head.

Reality comes pitching forward, the moment ending too soon.

You blink out of your reverie as Astarion slides the box toward you. It softly thumps against your leg. Expertly wrapped with a bow in its center and ribbons waterfalling down its sides. You stare in awe. You could never master something so intricate.

“And that, my dear, is how you wrap a present.” Astarion pats your thigh with finality before leaning back with a sigh. Looks smug as ever whilst taking a sip of his forgotten wine.

You smirk. Offer Astarion a half-hearted applause, and he eats it all up.

“I envy whatever bastard receives this, honestly,” he croons around the mouth of his cup. “I outdid myself.”

You chuckle. Your inhibition is thrown to the wolves. You eye the present, your body vibrating with anticipation. Maybe it’s the liquid encouragement urging you forward, loosening your tongue. Whatever the cause, you push on.

“I mean, I’d hope he likes it. He took his time wrapping it, after all.”

Astarion casts you a sidelong glance. Snorts into his glass. Realization gradually descends on his features. It’s funny watching his face morph into something akin to a confused puppy.

You shrug, caught like a child rifling through a cookie jar. It takes a moment, but his brows finally lift with an unasked question.

Seriously, they ask. For me?

You reach for the box, pointedly avoiding his stare. The heat of bashfulness inhabits your cheeks as you carefully slip the box into his lap. Your hand lingers. Fingers tenderly grip the meat of his quad, stars dancing across the stratosphere of your eyes when you muster the courage to look at him.

“Merry Christmas, Starry.”

He sputters. Sits up. Glances between you, the box, and the clock perched above the mantle. It’s midnight. Tradition dictates you open one present at the cusp of Christmas day.

Astarion laughs, something airy and pleasant. His hand closes over yours, and he squeezes. He’s beautiful like this. Youthful as he glances up at you, his mouth working around a reply.

“You cheeky little shit. Making me wrap my own gift. The gall.”

He acts offended, but you know that couldn’t be further from the truth.

“Would you rather I have wrapped it?”

You both warily eye your shit attempts at wrapping his gift.

“Fair enough,” he jests with a resigned drop of his shoulders.

You share a laugh, the air between you charged with affection. Through it all, you note Astarion’s hand has yet to leave yours. Thumb kneads reassuring circles into the clutch of your hand. Your heart thrums a war cadence in your ears, blotting out the sound of his wine glass clinking against the floor as he sets it down.

He releases a breath. Observes you a moment longer with a warm smile on his lips. Shifts his gift onto the floor beside him. “Come here,” Astarion murmurs, saturating your vision with nothing but him as he leans closer.

You heed his request, and your lids lower, a pleasant shiver sifting through your bones at his glacial fingers at the nape of your neck. You have but seconds to appreciate the flutter of his lashes before he closes in.

He fuses his lips to yours with such precision. Tender, supple. Just like you always dreamed they would be. He’s frigid, but he scorches you from within. Gently takes possession of your cheek, coaxing your lips to part with the slide of his tongue after your body relaxes.

You grant him the entry he requests with an abrasive sound easing from your throat. Warmth pools in the chasm of your belly whilst your tongues intermingle and the maple taste of brandy pushes into your mouth.

His voice vibrates in your mouth as he chuckles something satisfied. He breaks the kiss with a soft click, and you chase his mouth in pursuit of another.

“Don’t be greedy, darling,” he husks with a teasing tap to your nose.

Your eyes cautiously slide open. Lips still pursed, head still swimming. “What was that all about,” you breathe into the space between your mouths.

Astarion chuckles, all fangs and mirth. You follow his gaze skyward, a blur of forest green and red nestled between the space of your lashes. Slowly, the distortion works itself into discernable shapes. You laugh at the telltale plant dangling above your head. Held by him.

“Mistletoe,” he croons as if it’s the most obvious thing.

You giggle, your nose brushing along the peak of his whilst you draw him in to press your foreheads together.

The time eases by with you sitting together by the fireplace, your cheek resting on Astarion’s shoulder as you regale stories of a childhood once passed. Hardly notice when you’re beckoned to sleep by the pretty girls of slumber.

#astarion x reader #astarion x you #astarion x tav #astarion fanfic #bg3 fanfiction #softstarion #bg3 fluff #astarion fluff #mutual pining #friends to lovers #christmas fluff #christmas fic #holiday fic #astarion x gn reader #tw: alcohol #tw: profanity

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sparkiekong · 2 years

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Live, For the Last Time 2/7

From the phone, “Hi. Do you remember I paid you a visit to your apartment not long ago?”

Nickie’s face goes serious, “You. How’d you get this number?”

Nick looks on, puffing away on his cigar watching her reactions. He could venture a guess as to who was on the other line, but he let her handle it.

Apex on the phone, “You're not asking the right questions. So let me ask you one... Do you want to have an exclusive? Like a super one, the best you've never had before?

Nickie frowns but indulges the madman to find out what he’s doing. “Alright, what is this exclusive you have? I sent you to Lyra Robinson. Was that not enough?”

Apex on the phone, “Oh yes, I have her right here, she's been a bit of a nuisance, but she's here.... So, this is an exclusive! In about ten to fifteen minutes, an orbital space station above San Myshuno is going to come crashing down on your heads. The reactors inside with their puroniac two will overload and anything not smashed on impact, soon will be in the blast. You'll even see it fall!”

Apex on the phone, “Look outside, you’ll see me…Look for the big red glow! You can’t miss it!”

Nickie’s mind processed the conversation and it clicked in her mind, “Holy Hells! The news mentioned a near orbit comet, you mean that’s you?!”

Apex on the phone chuckles, “Yes! I'm waving right now.”

Nickie is utterly disgusted, “You’re a monster, those are innocent people down here! You have no right to do this.”

Apex on the phone, “Nobody's really innocent Nickie… you of all people know that. Fourteen minutes!”

Nickie is thinking and processing all of it at the same time, but her mind stays with the interview, “Last question, why call me? Why tell me about it?”

Apex counting down on the phone, “Eleven minutes…. You love the truth. So, do I. In this we are kindred spirits. My whole life has been nothing but a big fat lie, with me desperate to know who and what I was. Well now you know the truth. Goodbye Nickie, if you survive, you'll ascend to a greater level of existence. Better warn everybody!” Apex hangs up.

Nickie starts to throw the phone but holds onto it tightly as realization kicks in. “Holy hell… the news is lying to everyone. That maniac is bringing a space station down on San Myshuno.”

Nickie looks around a bit panicked, “I need to do something. I can’t just sit here. I don’t even know if we’re safe here in the bunker. I have to call my parents. I have to call the station. FUCK! What should I do?!”

Nick still watches her, grim faced and puffing away, “What? That was the guy? The one from the apartment?”

#tac #the axiom conclusion #crossover #the tomorrow men #helenofsimblr #sims 4 #ts4 story #sims 4 story #KSU #smoking tw #profanity tw #curse words tw

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