#not to toot my own horn too soon but...

[nickywhoisi]

My Thomas and Friends humanized robot ideas omg yes it is

YOOOOO IT’S FINALLY HERE, NEW RELEASE, GET HYPE GROOP

It’s been a stupidly long time coming, I know, and I wish I could include some new art with it, but eh what’re ya gonna do. Since first coming on to tumblr, I’ve been loving the whole fandom’s many versions of the cast, and it did not take long for me to throw my hat into the ring and join the fun! I already loved making designs on their own just for the sake of experimenting. But if I was gonna make my own human!Engines, then it was only inevitable that I give them a proper universe to reside in and give context if I wanted to make some original skits or comics (and lemme tell ya I have really wanted to make some comics wiTH ANTICS). And I hated having so much putting off my creativity! I had to focus on  everything except what I really needed to make something really good, but there were a few lucky glimmers where I was able to settle down with my laptop and get some pieces churned out. So without further ado, insert drumroll, as I have just checked that I apparently have 30 +1 followers so far...which, considering what I have been posting so far...oh my god, I love you all. For real? I am amazed. You’re all troopers sticking around with me, through the pleasantness and the badness. I am so happy you guys put so much faith in me. Time for that to pay off. This is all for you guys first and foremost, along with the choo choo groop, the TTTE fandom.

-This rendition of Sodor Island has similar trappings to the TV series timeline, but with humanoids as the main focus, and with a very different overall trajectory. The entire island's culture is set in an amber-state of the 1910's-40's, but slowly there are some pieces of other decades that have made their way to the small country. In the most recent period, fluorescent lights have made their way to Sudrian homes, but the bulbs are made custom to have a warm glow of an old fashioned gas light, so it doesn't look too modern. Sometimes fashion trends of recent decades appear on the island, but these are mostly worn by foreigners or visitors to the island, and rarely are seen on locals. A lot of things like this are repurposed, or reconfigured in this way, as that is what the Island of Sodor seems to prefer best. -The entire land pulses with a giant amount of otherworldly energy, which the Sudrians know as "magic dust". It is shown to take on the form of powder carried on the winds most often. But unlike the movie's depiction of "gold dust", this universe's magic dust has an even more ethereal colour. It's prismatic, a "light rainbow" colouration, and gold is just one of the colours that it can display. Some say it is like watching a fog of powdered diamonds pass by, on occasion. It's always a delight for the engines to see wafts of magic dust come in, as they get to enjoy a special boost of energy that comes from it. -The main cast originate as normal, faceless trains when they are first built. With the intended use of being average trains, pulling passengers and cargo and all that. But due to the magic dust, most of them develop a soul/consciousness, and without mouths or faces, they come alive and start talking. The very first to be granted life, of course, is Lady. Proteus and all the rest come after her soon enough, though there are rare cases where an engine is unaffected by the magic dust, and never comes to life at all. It is otherwise a mystery how this occurs, but old Sudrian researchers have discovered that the engines have the magic dust that grants them life condensed right in the core of their chassis - they just opened a slot to take a peek; it wasn't a full dissection. They would not dare harm one of their trains, especially now that they were alive and could react to whatever they did! - This core essentially looks like a giant glowing column inside, the dust becoming a solid cylinder-esque shape that fills in whatever gaps inside the engine were empty. A large cylinder with branching points, to be more precise. Even more of a mystery is how exactly the engine's voices are heard at all; the only working, plausible theory at present is it's a mass psychic mental link of some kind, allowing the trains to speak, be heard, and be understood by humans on Sodor. When a living train was brought out of Sodor, as a speculative experiment, the core seemed to stay intact, yet it was impossible for a human outside of Sodor to ever hear the train. More alarmingly, the engine's core magic was decreasing in potency the longer they were kept off of Sudrian land. No changes within a person who worked with them were ever found, so it was considered ultimately benign, though somewhat harmful to the poor trains. The local Sudrians who remained by the train's side were still able to keep their mental connection to the magic engine, and were equally perplexed as to how this was possible while being off-island. In the beginning, the average humans who worked alongside their steamies and diesels were getting quite used to their new active connections with eachother, and were having a lot of fun bonding over nearly everything. From discussing work schedules and how to improve them, to tooting whistles and enjoying music together, to getting huffy over having food cooked in their fuelboxes sometimes, and so on. The passengers would also get to share special connections with the engines who were always delighted to greet them. Then...out of nowhere, a truck suddenly formed a face and voice of its own, and began to cause trouble for everyone. And just a short moment after that, an engine transformed and became humanoid; likely Proteus. There was almost an incident in which the drivers were caught in his very first transformation, or "morph" as it would later be dubbed, but they got out by the skin of their teeth before then. Ever since, the people got decidedly more nervous about boarding the engines, and some passengers were beginning to worry about the carriages; if it would be safe to use the railways at all if the trains themselves were transmogrifying without any warning. The stations needed to make sure this wouldn't become an economic crisis, or even worse...be the cause of bizarre casualties. So, Fat Controller I drummed up with the stations a haphazard plan of building tons of new cars and trucks for passengers and businesses to use. But they did so annually; after a week of use, the cart would be decommissioned for a while and replaced with a new, freshly built one to ensure there would be no sudden morphing on the job. The previous cart would be waited on for a month to see if it would decide to come to life. If it didn't, it would be considered "safe" and brought back into use again, but still only for a week. There would be a great amount of shifting cars around and checking carefully to make sure there would be nothing springing to life at the wrong time. This caused a lot of very difficult work for everyone, and there was still no assurance to be made about the trains, but the safety of the people was ensured to the best of their ability. Suddenly, though, it happened. Not only did a passenger car come to life, though thankfully it was not a harmful incident at all, a few rare vehicles were beginning to come to life as well! Entirely unaccounted for! It seemed as if nothing was safe from the magic dust! This was the cause of humans being less enthused about the magic dust fogs rolling in than the engines...as for them it means life and health, but for the average human means an unstable chance event of a device coming alive before any preparation can be made. It leaves the people in a certain state of anxiety for a long time, though they still need to use their vehicles and trains. It's been a miracle that nobody has gotten killed, yet there have indeed been accidents and daredevil moments caused by a car springing to life and not understanding where it is yet, or a train screeching to a halt and making the passengers lurch forward as it's frozen in confusion. Fat Controller I and his workforce, after many years of doing damage control, finally decide they're tired of fighting against the uncertainty and try to encourage the island to "go with the flow" a bit more. Over time, with Fat Controller II taking position as head of the Stations, they all acknowledge that this is just what will happen from here on out. They accept the risks however begrudgingly, and everyone starts learning and practicing what to do to minimize the risk however they can...and things turn out pretty alright from here on out. It's nobody's fault except that durn magic dust.

-Toby, Edward, Thomas and Gordon were the first four of the present period to be observed morphing from talking train forms to humanoid for the beginning of their individual “stories”. The human forms are not really considered by the humans as the same, for a number of reasons. A small, barely invasive surgery was once done on a past engine to dissect and understand the engine’s miraculous changes, and these findings applies to the whole cast; steamie, diesel, etc. The trains essentially have a complex system of innerworkings that are reminiscent of human anatomy, but the “organs” that they carry are closer to the systems of their original engine forms. Much of these are placed around to fit the humanoid casing in the best way, and much of it makes sense; the steam pipes are connected near exactly like a set of lungs, trachea and nasal passages for releasing  pressure...but they are also connected to the ear holes and unique vent holes found passing down through their ankles, so not everything matches up as we might understand. The human forms seem to have a special compartment within the legs that store the most unique addition; retractable wheels that allow them to use their original tracks without any issue, though they can now step off the tracks and walk where they please. These wheels are connected by sturdy joints that bend in unobtrusive ways. Of  course, there is also the colouration of their skin, which is a soft matted but still metallic grey. These are the most direct indicators that, though they look human, these “robots” have indisputably originated from the engines they were. The magic cylinder they have also appears to change shape with them, forming into a bust shape; the engine’s brains and “heart” appear to be located closely at the head and torso. It makes for very tough necks, certainly. But this would also mean that any blows to these areas too severe would be fatal to them, and if not treated in time, may lead to the poor engines death.

-Toby first morphed on his tracks, not in anyone’s way, with no passengers with him or anything. His driver was mentally ready each day for just this event. It was a very easygoing time, thank goodness. 

Edward was next, and his morph was quite safe as well. Though he absentmindedly turned his new body before his cargo was uncoupled, which caused the load to get spilled. At least it was only one cart... 

Thomas morphed at a pretty inopportune time, during a passenger ride on Tidmouth. He was so enamoured by his first beautiful sunny day that he drifted off to Toryreck, which was not on the proper path! He didn’t realize what had happened until everybody was practically yelling at him to get his attention, especially his drivers who had chased him down.

Gordon morphed at a fairly bad time too, but he handled it expertly for someone who only got used to having legs for a split second. He of course was on his expressline, going very fast down his track. And so when he morphed without expecting it, he had to think very quickly for the sake of his passengers and drivers’ safety, and get accustomed to having limbs even quicker. He did it, and everyone at the next station were pleasantly surprised, but he was frozen in discomfort. He probably needed some time to...register what happened, or fear what had almost happened. Immediately afterward, he studied the Sudrian Locomotive Owner’s Manuals which went over all known information about his new form. That way he would never be so thrown off again. Also, yes, he’s autistic headcannon’d. ;3

James’ first morph was expected by his drivers and himself, but sadly it did not go as James had planned it to. He considered it like a special “coming out at a debutante ball” sorta deal, and was always daydreaming about the ideal moment and how he would carry himself. When it actually happened, however, he was in the middle of dealing with the troublesome trucks. He has a brief moment to enjoy his new form, but the trucks decide to take advantage of the distraction and push James along towards the crash he suffers in canon. In this version, he’s all alone to suffer the crash, as the drivers had to leap off of James when morphing! And it seemed that James’ wheelframes and breaks were actually wooden instead of metal as well. Nobody was aware of what it would be like for a wooden-braked train to morph and be like that, but James’ brakes were already burned away in the incident. Luckily, just like in canon, Thomas is there to help James up and collect his separated wheelset. And this time, they can at least walk back without trouble. James is very depressed because his first morph was so cruelly disrupted, and he can barely remember the small moment he was happy about it...but he’s quickly cheered up by Thomas’ idea to cover James before everyone at Steamworks sees him yet...so he can still have his debutante entrance after all!

-Henry’s first morph was almost a really dangerous situation. Henry was in an awful condition in his engine form, and this made him and the rest of the station worried about how well he would function period. Henry was far too scared to ever look forward to morphing while like this, as he learned that once an engine morphs, they don’t go back. Ever. That would mean that whatever illness he had, he’d be keeping forever as a “human”. This left all of his actual human friends at the station frantically preparing a special reconstructive surgery for him, while they still had the chance. Retooling an entire train is hard enough engineering work on its own, but it’s even trickier to make sure the “patient” is put to sleep well enough to go through such a demanding process. Even worse still when the patient is essentially a ticking time bomb, with having no way to be  sure if he would suddenly morph IN THE MIDDLE OF THE OPERATION. Then he would either be lost forever, or be in such a horrifying state that it would surely be better...to decomission him. Absolutely no one wanted that! And thank goodness nobody got that, as it took a few days to finish Henry’s new locomotive body but he was still finished in time, for when he did form within a few weeks. Henry was all better, and more than happy with how he was now.

And that’s what we’ve got so far! Had  to edit Henry’s bit in post because my laptop almost ran out of battery. Oops XD But I hope you all enjoy the blurbs!

#not to toot my own horn too soon but... #I am very proud of myself for forming plausible transition points for the engine's transformations #and the ripple effects that come from it happening for the first time #I really got into thinking about how everybody would actually take to these happenings in a believable way #like how would sodor actually feel about this and this what would they do #this was super fun and I am gonna try to make more! #ttte #choo choo groop #my writings #this makes the happy

[cadykeus-clay]

in the aftermath of witnessing what acofaf did to my brain and thinking of the way i write romance i think it's now more clear than ever that my views on love were written in stone with "how many more times must i ask you to call me elizabeth" "at least once more miss swann"

#why would i write a love confession when i could linger on peoples hands for just a moment too long and theyll tell you everything you need #to know #(not to toot my own horn. but there's a moment. in the upcoming from the wings chapter i swear im Going to publish soon. that if you like #this regency shit. is gonna make you tear your hair out. cannot wait for you to see it for real)

[russellsppttemplates]

Lando calling his wife "lovie" got me 🥹🥹🥹

And just the image of him cooing about a milk drunk baby is enough to send my ovaries into combustion!

Would you maybe write a little bit more about it, like maybe Lando posting or sending his family pictures of his milk drunk babies because he thinks it is the cutest/funniest thing?

Note: you and me both, anon!

"Tell me this isn't the cutest, squishiest face you have ever seen!", Lando groaned softly as he admired your babygirl while he walked in the Silverstone paddock, "I have to admit that's a pretty cute baby", Ted said into his microphone.

"Pretty cute? Tilly is the cutest", Lando stated, adjusting the hat on her head to shield her face from the sunshine that graced his home race weekend, "she has her tummy full and she was out like a light, nothing can bother her, she's in her own little world", Lando smiled, delighting everyone who saw the infections of the new father and his babygirl.

"It's extra special, no? Your home race, your family is here - the youngest Norris is here too - and a pole position that by the looks of it could get you a home race win", Ted wondered.

"Yes, it definitely is, we're not taking anything for granted until we race, obviously, but the spirits are definitely high", he smiled, kissing Matilda's cheek as she made a little noise, "I had another question to ask you but this little one made it fly out of my brain, actually", Ted chuckled as he shook his head.

"She usually has that effect on people, you can't really pay attention to anything else", Lando smiled proudly.

.

"Little man is down, was absolutely milk drunk and went out like a light", you said as Lando stepped out of the en suite bathroom, crawling up to you in bed and stroking the baby's soft cheeks, "He's so sleepy, look at him", you cooed, "he fell asleep with my nipple still in his mouth, I barely got a burp out of him before he was knocked right out", you smiled.

"We make really cute kids, don't we, lovie?", Lando said, resting his head on your chest and facing Fraser, and from your point of view, it was clear this baby would become a Lando clone soon enough.

"So far, they all look the most like you, so you're really just tooting your own horn", you scoffed playfully, "these cute cheeks and pouty lips, lovie? They're all you", Lando charmed, making you blush.

.

"Can you give her the bottle, please?", you asked Lando, "I need to make sure Matilda is not doodling instead of doing her homework", you kissed Lando's lips and baby Charlotte's cheek.

"Let's warm this up for you, babygirl", Lando said as he put the milk in the bottle and popped it in the warmer, "you're hungry, aren't you? And fighting sleep so I've heard - you gave mummy a full on afternoon", he giggled, pulling funny faces as she giggled at her father's antics.

"Off we go then, open up - there we go, Lottie", he smiled as she suckled, finally get her tummy full as he walked around bouncing her, "hopefully you'll sleep because you really need it, and that way you can also give mummy a little bit of a rest, just so enough me and her can have a cuddle, you know?", he playfully tsked, "you've been stealing all of my cuddles", he giggled as he looked at her precious face. Life had been generous enough with him - he had the woman of his dreams, a career he loved and their three little ones. Life was good.

After burping Charlotte, Lando rocked her to sleep, which didn't prove to be very hard as she was milkdrunk as ever, her little mouth opened as she rested on his chest.

"Tilly is doing fine and Fraser is happily playing with his toys", you said as you sat down on the sofa next to your husband, your daughter happily sleeping on his chest, "take a picture of this cute face and send it to the groupchat, please", Lando whispered as he gave you his phone so you could dot it.

Lando: Look at this cutie 🥰

Flo: Look at her chubby cheeks, I can't!

Cisca: She looks so out-of-it-milkdrunk, I bet she's having a good nap!

Lovie: Seeing her like this almost makes it look like she wasn't wide awake the whole afternoon - she never closed those big eyes, she was always staring at me!

Adam: look at our little girl 😍

"You're so loved, babygirl", you said, brushing the hairs on her head, cuddling closer to your husband.

"Finally I am the one getting a cuddle from mummy", Lando cheered, kissing your lips, "jealous much, handsome?", you teased, "just wanted a cuddle from you, woman! This one has hogged your boobs from me - I have to take what I can get!".

(Thank you for sending this in ✨️)

#lando norris blurb #inês writes blurbs #f1 blurb #f1 x reader

[endlessthxxghts]

Joel Nye, The Science Guy

no outbreak!Joel Miller x afab!reader || W/C: ≈4.6k

"Is he really choosing coffee right now over having you? I mean, not to toot your own fucking horn, but seriously. Who would delay an orgasm for some coffee? Apparently, Joel fucking Miller would."

Summary: Joel stumbles across an article online about the effects of coffee on the body. Determined to uncover the truth, he tests the hypothesis with you as his subject.

Contents/Warnings: Any physical description of reader is neutral (no size descriptions). Joel is bigger than you though (but he’s fucking huge in general, so…). No age mentioned for reader or for Joel. Implied established relationship. No matter what age, Joel is a grandpa when it comes to technology. Mentions of Amazon LMAO. SMUT 18+ MDNI (mutual masturbation on the phone, touching yourself in the workplace, dirty talk, sexting [kinda], ..kitchen activities…reflections…, finger fucking, lots of liquids, squirting, cumming untouched, drinking coffee with an ulterior motive!, allusion to further sexual endeavors). Please let me know if I missed anything!

A/N: Happy New Year, my loves! I just got done rewatching TLOU for the millionth time while drinking some coffee, and for some reason, this was born. I have no idea wtf this is, so don't ask me.💚 Also let’s thank @javierpena-inatacvest for titling this silly thing for me hehe. Fucking iconic. I love you, bestie.🥹 Here's to my first fic of 2024, and to many more! I hope you enjoy.💚

MASTERLIST

Joel’s number one favorite sensation every morning was when the first drop of the bitter, black liquid met his tongue, consuming all his senses into nothing but pure coffee. It was one of his favorite things—past tense—because then he got to experience what it was like waking up to you every morning, what it was like tasting you every morning. The first drop of you blessed his tongue one year ago, and he never looked back.

That is, until now. 

You had work today and Joel had the day off, a rare occurrence. You forgot to set your alarm this morning, so you broke from his hold in a rush, leaving him nothing but a sweet kiss to last him the day. 

Usually your mornings together are spent tangled in his sheets until he leaves you with less than twenty minutes to get ready for your day. Too addicted to the way he makes you feel, you mastered the art of quick change, using the rest of your time to do your morning skincare routine. This, you’ll never skip—subjecting yourself to a few scoldings by your boss because of it.

Joel allowed himself a few more hours of sleep after you left, his body needing extra rest from his unusually crazy day at the job site yesterday and from the way you pounced on him as soon as he came home. You promised him it would be you doing all the work, but like the addicting little thing you are, he couldn’t help but take charge so he could watch you fall apart over and over and over again. 

Joel pulled himself out of his bed, a chill running down his body from leaving the trapped body heat of the sheets. He was hard, of course, and usually you’re there to help with his morning problem, but apparently today’s full of rare events for Joel. He grumbles to himself as he makes the way to the bathroom, not wanting to take care of himself without you, not anymore. He could wait for you to be home, but he knows he’d be a leaking, grumpy mess all day—God forbid he has to interact with another human in that aroused, frustrated state. He checks the little clock you bought for his bathroom counter when you moved in—so I can watch the time when I get ready for work, you scolded him when he made you late for the first time. 

11:48 the clock displays; twelve more minutes until your break. He can wait twelve minutes. You usually close your office during your lunch, don’t you? Maybe he can call you. He might as well do his own morning routine while he waits. Joel’s old morning routines consisted of brushing his teeth, then washing his face with soap and water. Though, upon witnessing his wretched routine the first morning you two spent together, you were utterly appalled at his actions, forcing him to the store and spending the first half of your morning educating him on proper skincare. His morning routine went from four minutes to fifteen with your influence, but because he didn’t want to be a minute late in calling you, he shaved three minutes off from his task. 

As soon as the clock hit twelve, Joel plopped himself in bed, leaning against the headboard, and reached for his phone, immediately dialing you. 

Two rings later, and your sweet voice fills his ears. “Hi, baby,” you say. He can hear the small smile on your face. 

“Hi, darlin’,” Joel rasps, his voice still groggy from the lack of use. 

“You just wake up?” You jokingly scold, knowing damn well what the answer was. You like when he sleeps in. He deserves the rest from all that hard work he does. 

“Maybe,” he tells you. You can hear the smirk on his face now. “How’s work goin’? On your break now?”

“Work is… definitely going,” you huff. “And yeah, I’m on my break now, which means I’ve got an hour to counterproductively stress about these reports that have to go out.”

“I’m sorry, honey,” he tells you softly. But then he’s smirking again. “Can I help?”

“Help?” you repeat.

“Yeah,” he states like it’s the most regular answer ever. “Lemme help de-stress ya,” he adds, his voice dropping an octave. 

A heat consumes your face, but you remain calm. “Yeah?” You breathe. “And how would you help me, cowboy?” You ask him as you swiftly stand from your desk to lock your office door and close your blinds. 

“I reckon you just locked that door of yours, huh?” He asks rhetorically, knowing you better than you know yourself. Not even your past lovers would be able to pick up on the slightest of changes in your voice when you’re aroused. Joel picks up on it instantly. 

“Maybe,” you repeat his sentiment from earlier. 

“If I’m remembering correctly,” Joel says as he rubs his hand over his tenting bulge in an attempt to ease his ache. “You’ve got a couch in there, baby?”

“Yeah,” you whisper.

“Well, you know what to do next, babygirl.” 

Glancing at your door to make sure it’s really locked, you make your way to your couch, unbuttoning your jeans in the process and shucking them down as your ass meets the cushion. Fuck, you’re already soaked. 

“Where are you?” You ask him, your fingers ghosting your core over the wet patch on your panties.

As soon as the words leave your mouth, your phone buzzes. Joel sent you a text. An image. Clicking it, a breathy little whimper escapes you. “Fuck.” He’s leaning against the headboard, legs pushed open, his thick thighs on display. He’s just wearing his boxers, and his hand is inside, gripping onto his length. His leaking, angry tip is showing from the top of his boxers. A little circle catches your eye, and- oh. It’s a live photo. You hold down on the image, and you see his hips jerk into his hand. “Fuck,” you say again, your pussy twitching in excitement yet frustration that you can’t have him inside you right now. “I need you so fucking bad, Joel,” you whine into the phone as your fingers finally dip inside. 

“I need you, too, baby,” he groans, “I’m fuckin’ dyin’ over here.” He sounds so pained. It riles you up even more. Your fingers speed up at his words, breathy moans escaping you. You circle your clit a few more times before reaching lower and dipping your middle and index finger inside of you. Joel hears the faintest sound of a squelch, and the grip on his cock tightens. He pulls his boxers completely down over his thighs, his cock completely free, and he tugs at a slow, teasing pace in an effort to build himself up the way you normally do for him. “Let me hear you, baby, let me hear you touch yourself for me.”

Lord, you hope your room is sound proofed enough because without any hesitation, you’re putting him on speaker and setting your phone down near your cunt, pumping in and out of yourself faster and deeper for him to hear. “J-Joel, f-fuck,” you stutter, “I- I’m-”

“You’re close, baby, I know,” he says soothingly. You can hear the slick sound of his hand speed up. Your other hand falls to your clit as your fingers continue inside. “Let go for me, mi amor, soak those fingers as if it were my cock fuckin’ you,” he rambles. “Just like I know you can, baby, atta fuckin’ girl.”

With the help of his filthy mouth, your body seizes up and you’re seeing stars, your eyes falling to the back of your head as you remove your hand from your clit to slap it over your mouth in an attempt to stop the high-pitched, purely pornographic moan of his name from escaping the walls of your not-so private office. You can hear the moment Joel cums, too, a painful groan roars from his throat as you hear the movements slow but get slippier with each pass over. 

You’re on the phone for a few moments more, listening to each other’s breaths, slowly fixing your clothing as you let your heart rate return to normal. 

“Joel,” you finally have enough strength to say. 

“Yeah, darlin’?”

He hears a faint knock on your door. You pull the phone away to lessen your volume on his end. Just a moment, he hears you call out. “Gonna need more of you when I get home.” 

“Yes, ma’am,” Joel replies more than happily.

After your phone call, Joel cleans and dresses himself up and heads to the kitchen. 

Joel can’t help the way your words bounce around his head. Gonna need more of you when I get home.

“And I’m definitely gonna need a fuck ton of you today,” he mutters to the bag of Colombian coffee grounds he pulls out of his kitchen cabinet. He refills the machine with water, inserts a filter, pours two heaping spoonfuls of the ground beans into the compartment, places a mug, and hits start. He goes to put the coffee away, but it’s then he feels how lightweight the bag is starting to feel. 

Genuinely, he begins to panic. He needs to order more, and he needs to do it now. He cannot go a day without his precious coffee. The brand he orders is online only, and usually he would wait for you to help him place the order, but he doesn’t want to risk hitting the cutoff for same day delivery. 

Joel isn’t that old, and he certainly grows with the time period, but when it comes to technology, he’s worse than your 97-year-old grandmother who attempts to group FaceTime both of you every night. Sure, he knows how to send you pictures, but that’s the extent of his ability. Truly. With his coffee in mind, though, he puts on his bravest face and opens Safari. He searches for the website you’re always on. A, he types. M. A. Z. 

There! Amazon. He clicks the website, not knowing the app is already installed on his phone. He sees the smiling logo, and, proud of himself, he smiles back at it. 

The smile is quick to fade, however, because the intricacies of working the website is giving him heart palpitations. He sets his phone down and reaches for his reading glasses in his pocket and slides them on. He picks up his phone again. 

The thing about using Amazon on a phone through a search engine, though, is that the website is constantly glitching. So when he types in the word coffee, he has zero idea how he ended up on a completely different website, his original search lost in the complicated webs of the internet. 

It takes him a moment to realize what he’s reading, but once it registers, it’s way more interesting than his original task. 

Women reporting intensified orgasms after drinking coffee, the headline read. His eyes begin to scan lower. Researchers concluded there was a “correlation between caffeine and sex” after testing its effects on rats.

Oh, yeah, he’s intrigued. 

After reading the article, Joel restarts his original task and ends up ordering a larger amount of coffee than he normally would. In the name of science, he rationalized with himself.

Satisfied with his accomplishments, he grabs his mug and takes the time to enjoy his cup of pure caffeine. He needs the energy after all.

You get off promptly at 4pm, not wanting to spend any more time in your office—especially with the way you’ve been buzzing with need ever since your noon phone call. As soon as you park, you see an Amazon delivery person dropping off a box. They don’t ring the doorbell, and you know Joel doesn’t pay attention to the delivery notifications.

You get out of your car, leaving your things to get later. You reach the front porch and unlock and open the door first, bending down and picking up the box second. 

Joel greets you at the door, immediately cursing himself for not paying attention to the door, resulting in you doing the heavy lifting. He knows you’re more than capable—Hell, you could probably handle his job better than he can—but his Southern upbringing is too deeply rooted into him to allow anything less. 

“Hi, my love, I’m sorry, I coulda brought that in, baby,” he tells you as he takes the box from your grasp, giving you a forehead kiss as a trade off. The warmth of his lips physically relaxes you. 

You two walk towards the kitchen, Joel sets the box down on the counter. “I just parked as they dropped it off, honey, it was no biggie,” you reply softly. 

“I know, baby, but you know I-” he starts. You don’t let him finish as you grab him by his biceps and pull him into you, your arms finding their home wrapped around his neck as his grip completely wrapping your waist. Your lips slot together in a slow, needy embrace—your tongues slowly breaching each other’s mouths. You swallow the groans escaping his throat as you pull away from him. 

“I know,” you say breathily, eyes as dark as his morning coffee. “Won’t do it again, promise,” you smile, knowing this is the only false promise you’ll ever make. At the rate of how hard you work him in other things, carrying a few heavy boxes is the least you could do every now and then. “Now, please undress me, baby,” you whimper, your hand skating down the front of his body, your deft fingers sliding into his waistband. 

With one arm around your waist, another claws at your top, untucking it from your jeans to lift it over your head as he kisses and nips all over your jaw and neck. He turns your body so that your ass meets the counter, pushing his hips into yours, silently telling you to jump up. 

Too eager, you don’t realize the trajectory of your jump, and your ass smacks the package, causing it to almost slip off the edge. The impact to your rear surprises you enough to pull away from Joel and look back. Apparently, your brain is already turned to mush because you completely forgot about that box’s existence. 

However, now that you’re looking at it, you’re confused. You haven’t ordered anything recently. Did Joel order something? But he doesn’t even know how- 

“You okay, darlin’?” Joel asks, pausing all his movements. 

“Did you order something?” You ask.

His cheeks go red. “Yeah.. we were runnin’ out of my coffee ‘n I didn’t want to not have any for tomorrow or for later ‘n I wasn’t sure what time you’d be home to help me-” 

The bubbly sounds of your giggles are what cut him off. “What?” He asks, slightly defensive and slightly giddy at the sweetness blessing his ears. 

“You ordered something!” You exclaim. “You ordered something! And you were successful with it!” You’re gasping for air, speaking your excitement into his chest as you wrap yourself around him. 

“Don’t make fun a’me,” he pouts, grabbing your chin with his thumb and forefinger, giving your face a little scolding shake. 

“Oh, baby, no,” you coo, your laughter calming down because of the pain in your cheeks from smiling so wide. “I’m not making fun. I’m so proud!” your voice raises back up, as if you were talking to a baby who hit their first big milestone. 

He rolls his eyes. “Baby, don’t be like that,” you say as you lean in to give him a soft kiss. He gives in, of course, and he deepens it. “I really am proud,” you say as you attempt to pull away. 

He doesn’t let you. “Yeah, yeah,” he says sardonically in between kisses. 

Your hand drags up and grabs at his jaw, pulling him away so you can speak. “Now you don’t have to ask me to order things for you anymore,” you say with a smirk.

“Mmm, I don’t think so,” he breathes, trying to push against your hold on him. “Worst experience ever, I even-” 

He cuts himself off because he was so caught up in you when you got home, he forgot about the little detour his internet experience took him on today. 

Women reporting intensified orgasms after drinking coffee. 

“Actually,” he redirects. “Can we have some now?”

Your eyes pop out of your head in astonishment. “Right now?” you ask in disbelief. 

He gulps. “Y-yeah, right now. That okay?”

You don’t see why not besides the fact that his erection has been perched right against the soaked fabric of your panties for the last fifteen minutes and you’ll probably go mad if you don’t actually get relief in the next five minutes—but yeah, sure. Why not?

“I guess?” You say. Or ask? You really don’t know anymore. 

Is he really choosing coffee right now over having you? I mean, not to toot your own fucking horn, but seriously. Who would delay an orgasm for some coffee? Apparently, Joel fucking Miller would.

You’re not really a coffee person. Sure, you have a cup here and there—mostly iced and from your favorite local shop on your way to work—but compared to Joel, you are nowhere near the level he is. 

“How do you want it?” He asks, his back turned to you as he prepares two mugs. 

“Rough,” you mutter, slightly annoyed. You can feel the slick in your underwear start to get cold—and dry. 

Joel briefly turns around catching your eye; he points to his ear. “Say that again, sweetheart?” 

Fuck. Okay, maybe you’re being a little too bitchy. You rise from your seat at the counter, perching yourself right beside him, reaching your hand into his curls to give him a little head scratch. “I’ll do it, baby,” you say. “Thank you.” With your hand still at the back of his head, you guide him to look at you as you stand on your tippy toes to give him a soft kiss.

The coffee, honestly, wasn’t that bad. Yeah, you put your usual creamer and sugar, but you put slightly less—curious to get a glimpse of the natural flavor Joel loves so much. You could get used to it like this, you think. One thing is for sure, though: the brand Joel buys is fucking strong. You’re on your last sip, and you are struggling—you can feel your heart pumping out of your chest, and you swear you feel like your entire body is pulsing. Like you can hear your blood coursing through your veins. You don’t tell Joel because you don’t want to sound weird, so you shrug the feeling away and take your last sip. Perfectly in sync with you, Joel finishes off his coffee and reaches for your mug to also bring to the sink. 

Quickly letting the faucet run into the mugs so the coffee doesn’t stain, Joel speaks up. “How was it, darlin’? I know you don’t really enjoy coffee the way I do,” he notes. 

“Actually, baby, I really enjoyed it,” you say with a genuine smile. 

“Yeah?” He asks, a boyish grin sneaking past his lips.

“Yeah,” you reassure. “It was really strong, though,” you add. 

“Strong?” he asks, eyebrow quirked. 

“Yeah, um-” you start, unsure of how to describe it. “I don’t know, I just- I’ve never had coffee make my entire body feel like- like it’s buzzing or something. I don’t know,” you ramble. 

“Huh,” he says to no one in particular. “I mean, it is one of the stronger roasts,” he tells you. Is this because you were already severely worked up beforehand? It can’t be the placebo effect—he didn’t even tell you about his discoveries. 

Guess there’s only one way to go from here. 

Not giving you a chance to respond, his hands find your waist, pulling your back flush to his chest. He kisses your jaw, trailing his lips down the juncture of your neck and shoulder. Your head falls back onto him, your eyes fluttering shut as you give him full access. His fingers skate across the front of your jeans, your shirt already untucked from his earlier attempt. Your hips buck into his hands in response, a whiny little please leaves your mouth. 

“Shh, I got ya, sweet girl,” he rasps in your ear, his drawl licking a heat up your spine. He adjusts himself so he’s the one leaning against the kitchen counter, your body entirely relying on his support to keep you standing. 

He’s unbuttoning your jeans and right away you’re reaching for the zipper, helping him pull your bottoms down in one go. 

You’re shaking in his grasp, too pent up with a need your body doesn’t know what to do with. “Relax, baby, I’ma take care a’ya,” he says with a nip to your shoulder, his middle and ring finger already finding their place running through your soaked folds. 

Your eyes shut at the sensation, your breathing erratic and vocal. He drags your slick up to your throbbing bundle of nerves, circling with a precision only he knows how to provide. “F-fuck,” you moan. His other hand slides down to your sex, his two fingers going straight for your entrance and sliding in with ease with how much is pouring from you. “Fuckfuckfuck-”

“Gonna cum on my fingers, babygirl?” He’s pumping in and out of you at a languid pace even with the squirm of your hips. The stimulation on your clit never falters. “I can feel that pretty pussy flutter ‘round me, darlin’, I know she’s close.”

“J-Joel, please,” you let out, your head bobbing back and forth, unable to keep its heavy weight up.

Before he even realizes what he’s doing, he’s using his foot to kick your legs further apart, settling yours on the outside of his, and then both of you are dropping to the ground. His back is to the wall of the kitchen island while you land perfectly spread open atop his lap. Not worried about his or your balance anymore, he fucks into you harder, applying more pressure on your clit—the kind that makes you want to force your legs shut but you can’t, not with the way his own legs are keeping you open. “Open your eyes, sweet girl, need ya to look at yourself when you fuckin’ soak me.”

You open your eyes immediately and cast your eyes downward to his hands on you. “Nuh uh,” Joel tuts. His hand working your clit comes up to your jaw, your slick dampening your jaw as he guides you to look straight forward. Your reflection stares back at you from the dark oven window. Even in the dull image its showing you, you can see the way your pussy is glistening in the fluorescent kitchen light, the sweat dripping down your temples, your fucked-out face with Joel’s dark gaze ravaging every part of you. 

Everything—all of your senses—is completely Joel, Joel, Joel, and before you know it, you’re gushing into his hand; his newfound liquid gold ever since he met you, collecting into the depths of his palm, all while you’re roaring and thrashing out in pure bliss on top of him. 

The sight, sound, the feel, everything—just like you—consumes him whole. His lust takes over now, and his hands aren’t stopping. They continue their pace—their assault—on your sensitive core. He peers down over your shoulder, and his cock grows impossibly harder at the messy, slippery sight before him. “Christ,” he mutters under his breath. “Gimme one more, c’mon,” he breathes in, your scent beginning to linger into his nose, crawling into his skin and finding its home there. “I know you can gimme one more, baby, always such a good fuckin’ girl f’me.”

Your head is nodding furiously as you fight with your eyes to stay open and locked on your reflection. Your babbling, spit thick and coating every inch of your mouth as you try and respond. Mhm and one and more and fuck break free from your mouth, giving all the green light Joel needs to know he isn’t going too far. 

You turn your head to face Joel, your hand flying to the back of his curls and pulling him for a kiss that’s all teeth and tongue—an intermingling of each other’s spit as you swallow the other’s coffee-tinged breaths. 

He feels the flutter in your cunt once more, but this time it’s stronger, tighter. The way you’re clamping down on him sends him into a frenzy, his hips rutting his erection into your lower back at the feel of your warmth wrapped around him. “C’mon, baby, let go, I feel you,” he encourages. 

“Fuck-!” A high-pitched gasp turned whine comes out of your mouth as your entire body goes rigid, your pussy uncontrollably fluttering and spasming as Joel fucks you through your high. All you see is white, your body is engulfed by a tingly feeling that only describing it as TV static could do it justice. Your breathing is deep and shallow all at one, but more notably, you feel wet. Completely and utterly soaked, you can feel liquid pooling at your asscheeks and on the hardwood floor. 

You finally gather the strength to look down—Joel too, and he steals the words right from your mouth. “Holy. Fuck.”

You two stay there for a moment, trying to gather your thoughts on what the fuck just happened, and finally, you speak first. 

“I just-” you start. 

“You did,” he finishes, equally as shocked. Amazed. 

“How are we gonna-”

He rubs your thighs. “Can you stand?” 

You think for a moment. “Yeah, I think so.”

“I’ll get up first. Then I’ll pull you up. Just don’t move, I don’t need ya slippin’ on-”

“Yeah, okay,” you stop him, feeling slightly embarrassed about it all. 

He stands up, avoiding the little puddle below; then he pulls you up, kneeling to pull your underwear on for some sense of emotional comfort. “Hey.” He nudges your face with his hand to look into his eyes. “That was fuckin’ incredible. Ya hear me?” Heat washes over your entire face. You say nothing. “It was so fuckin’ hot and sexy and so so beautiful, I’m fuckin’ lucky to have witnessed somethin’ so heavenly, darlin’.” He pulls you in for a kiss. “Ya hear me?” he repeats his question, softer this time. 

The embarrassment washes away in an instant. “Well,” you look into his eyes, a flash of trouble dancing across your orbs. “Felt fuckin’ incredible, too.”

“Yeah,” Joel says, grabbing and guiding your hand down to his cock. “It did feel mighty incredible,” smugness written all over his face. 

He dips your hand inside his pants, and you're met with his half-hard, sticky length. “Joel, did you-”

“That I did, baby, that I did.” 

A moment passes, and you burst out into laughter for the second time tonight. Only this time, Joel joins in, completely taking advantage of how sweet the comedown always is with you.

“I think I oughta drink more of that coffee,” you say out of the blue, taking Joel completely off guard as he finishes wiping up your… spill. 

“Why?” he asks, trying to maintain a normal tone.

“I swear, Joel,” you whisper as if there’s other people listening in. “I swear that coffee is the reason I finished so… intensely,” you finish, your eyebrows raised in intrigue and curiosity. 

“You really think so?” Joel asks, a victory smile threatening to escape him. 

“Yeah,” you tell him. “I think we should test it out. You’re off tomorrow, yeah?”

“Well, I am now.”

End note: The article Joel stumbled upon is a real article LOL. Here it is, in case any of you were interested. The article is from 2023, so by all means, picture 56 year old Joel. I’m imagining him a bit younger in this lil AU, but there’s no explicit age description, so imagine whatever the hell you want😘. And in case you were wondering: yes, he ends up telling you about his intentions behind wanting to drink coffee first. Let's just say... you both end up getting hyperfixated on trying to "prove" this theory even though you both damn well know what the result is. ;) All my love, I hope you guys enjoyed.💚

Be sure to follow @endlessthxxghtsnotifs to stay up to date with my stories!!

Utilizing my taglist a few more times just to have a slow transition to my updates blog! @katiexpunk @janaispunk @farmerlarrry @mellymbee @jobee403 @soavenuepenguin @rainbowcosmicchaos @untamedheart81 @lilynotdilly @babygal-babygal @pedritoferg @pedrostories @akah565 @getitoutofmymind @axshadows @survivingandenduring @joels-shitty-puns @its-nebuleuse @axshadows @yorksgirl

#endless thoughts fics #pedro pascal #pedrohub #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal smut #smut #fic #smut fic #one shot #pedrostories #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel x reader #joel miller one shot #joel miller x female reader #tlou fanfiction #tlou fic #tlou smut

[simon-roy]

Now I’m only antiquated to the WEBTOON comics but I noticed amongst the Griz Grobus sequel lore book there was a tidbit on Hive-men, I’m assuming that was a bit of a reference to Humanity Lost? And if it’s alright can you go into more on this lore?

Ah this is an interesting wrinkle - not to toot my own horn too loud, but by god, my hive men predate humanity lost by a good few years!

They first arose while I was working on Prophet and collaborating with my friend Matt Sheean on a story about hive-men on mars, back in 2013 (that never quite materialized into a solid story)- with the main thrust of the tale being not about the hive as an inexorable mindless mass, enslaved to a queen (which is the usual villainous hive depiction), but with the hive as a sort of beneficial, eusocial, communitarian approach to living on a hostile world - contrasted well against the individualistic, identitarian and ultranationalistic worldviews of the earthmen trying to conquer them. (Ive read enough sci fi with the same mindless hive army...)

(below - one of matts drawings for the hive city)

But their first visual appearance of my version was sometime in 2015, i think, for the Island magazine cover posted below. (Trade between baseline humans of some type and the hive men, goods being carried by silk-line to the great dyson tree...)

The first tale of the hive men i made (second ever story on my patreon) was drawn in 2017, and covers a dyson-tree habitat (in this case, grown around the comet hale-bopp) encountering a voracious organism of the void:

The latest story of the hive-men, drawn in 2021, is about an interloper earthman, a deserter from an invading army, who has found a new living among the martian hive-people, in a story called "A Portrait of the Artist as Hive Parasite" (colored by my longterm collaborator, Sergey Nazarov - without him i would wither and perish)

These stories can be found on my patreon, and they'll also be showing up in print (at some point, probably next year) once I get my next short story collection sorted. Hell, they'll probably end up online on webtoons soon enough, too!

#simon roy #comics #griz grobus #habitat #scifi #kickstarter #image comics #human hive mind #hive men #martians #mars #speculative evolution #speculative biology #specbio #spec evo

[scribblesbyb]

WIP Intro Alert!

B is excited to share her WIP intro finally!

Spill the deets, Sis!

Title: The White Pearl: Book I: The Origin

Genre: Fantasy, Action, Drama, Adventure, (dash of) Romance

No. of chapters: 28 (approx. 22-23 pages/chapter)

POV: 1st pov

Setting: Earth, 21st Century

MC(s): Ivory (Eve), Theodore II (E.T.), Ulysses (Baldie), Spike (Spikey, Old Man)

Secondary MCs: Ludo (Lu, Rapunzel), Vada (Bitch-face), Gabrielle (Gabbie, Gab)

Supportive MCs: Orson (Sonnie), Raven (Vee), Adelyn (Lyn), Carl (Boss), Kevin (Kev, Saggy Ass), Castro (Cass)

P.S. This isn't the actual book cover! I'm working on a much better one with a close artist friend 😉

Cool! What's the WIP about?

Here's what I'm putting on the back of the book when I publish it hehe

Ivory has fought to be normal her entire life. After humanity shunned her and labeled her abnormality as the work of the devil, Eve's purpose became to hide behind fallacies that'd protect her from another world of hurt.

But what happens when the facade falls apart? When her fate comes to strike her in the face, yet again, forcing her to face a reality she's run from for too long?

And this time….she's doing it all alone.

Love it already?

I mean, duh, it's a pretty awesome book. There's a whole new fantasy language to learn too. But, hey, I'm tooting my own horn 🙊

The good news is I'm publishing it soon. Looking into a few online options first (Wattpad, Amazon Kindle...etc.) but trust, the second I do, I'm boasting all about it on here!

In the meantime, expect the following:

Character Intros: I can't wait for those! I get to spill the tea on my beloved creations and have fun while at it. So look forward to that 😄

Book Cover Drafts: Will have to ask my friend permission to share those first, though 🙈

Sneak Peeks: Provided I come across fun Tumblr tag games, I will use them to share more of my book 💃🏼

Chapter Title List: Particularly proud of it and think it's kinda funny + intriguing so yes, I might share it soon 📃

Thank you for reading this far!

Author's Note

Honestly, TWP (The White Pearl) has taken much of my creative energy these past few years - both the first and the second book (Spoilers: it's three books! #why did i do this to myself lol) but I honestly love the characters and the world I created so much that I wouldn't have it any other way!

#wip #current wip #work in progress #writers on tumblr #writerscommunity #writer things #writer #female writers #intro post #writeblr #writblr #writing #introduction #fantasy writing #creative writing #action writing #drama writing #fantasy worldbuilding #worldbuilding #character creation #adventure writing #The White Pearl #Book I #The Origin

[vsgenesis]

even MORE Rayman practice!! x)

[specifically focusing on the way he's drawn in Rayman origins/legends]

I think i'm starting to get better but i don't wanna toot my own horn too soon!

#rayman in the phantom show #rayman #rayman legends #rayman origins #grimscribble

[the-hidden-writer]

A Piece of True Fiction: Chapter 6

An Alan Wake 2 fic. Spoilers for Alan Wake 2!

Summary: Aleksi Kesä manages to slip out of the spiral and film he was trapped in.

Saga Anderson, caught in the middle of Wake's horror story, finds a man that looks identical to her partner in the middle of the woods. He's lost, confused, and only seems to speak Finnish. Saga has to try and uncover the truth as well as trying to save her family. Where did he come from? How did he get here?

And where's her Casey?

Chapter Summary: Saga finally confronts Alan. Words: 2,524 AO3 Link: [Here!] [First part] [Previous part] [Next part]

A Piece of True Fiction

Chapter 6: Too Soon

“I just don’t understand. It was in my hands, but I could’ve sworn I was reading it for the first time.”

Saga fights the urge to roll her eyes as an FBC medic finishes wrapping her wound. Kesä had done a pretty decent job in Coffee World considering the circumstances, but it does feel better to know it’s been professionally done with less risk of infection. An amputation is the last thing she needs right now.

Right now, she’s itching to speak to Wake. The longer she sits still, the more her thoughts drift to Logan. The more her fury at the writer festers.

She’d described how she’d found Kesä to Estevez while she was being treated (in the morgue of all places). She’d also explained some of her own concerns, such as the mystery of how he ended up in Coffee World, Watery, when she’d last left him in Bright Falls and taken the car herself.

All the more reason she desperately needs to talk to Wake. He was the last person with Casey, and potentially the only person who could explain what’s going on.

Annoyingly, Estevez seems too caught up in her own experience to actually hear what she’s trying to tell her.

“I don’t want to toot my own horn, but I’m lead here for a reason”, the FBC agent continues. “I study and analyze every detail about a case before heading into the field and I’ve never had memory problems before. I should know this file inside out. I’m more inclined to believe that something paranatural’s at work here.”

“And the Finnish part didn’t tip you off?” Saga asks. She’s grateful that the FBC are taking her seriously though she’s also getting increasingly frustrated by them.

They’re acting too composed and methodical for a situation so dire and terrifying. Sure, Saga’s circles within the FBI are also fairly organized, but the FBC agents are on a whole other level. The way they mill around and make use of the small, rural space available to them is almost dystopian. Part of her wonders if it was a mistake coming here and if she’s ended up confining herself to their agency, when she could be outside trying to fix things and actually be making progress.

Estevez scoffs at her comment. 

“Reality’s malleable here. It’s harder to take people for their word.” She frowns. “Then again, we do have Wake in custody…”

Their conversation is interrupted by a shout and a clatter of metal from the other side of the room.

Saga looks over at the source of the noise, where she can just about make out a very uncomfortable-looking Kesä sitting on an examination table, surrounded by four FBC agents holding various items. One has a tablet, another has a clipboard, and another has a stethoscope. The fourth, the only one empty-handed, is recovering from being shoved backward. A reflex hammer lies on the cold floor by their feet.

“Saga!” Kesä cries out, peering between the agents to catch her eye. "Nämä ei helvetti suostu jättämään minua rauhaan! Puhu järkeä niille!"

Estevez approaches them. “What’s the problem?”

The female agent with the clipboard looks at her boss guiltily. “Don’t know, Ma’am. He’s not co-operating.”

“What about the translator?” Estevez demands.

“He’s refusing to type into the software.”

“Can’t you just get a verbal translator?” Saga asks from her side of the morgue, shrugging away the agent tending to her. “It can’t be hard to find one here.”

“I’ll agree with you on it being more convenient,” answers Estevez, “but bringing in external specialists without the Director's approval would be going against protocol.”

“Fuck the protocol!” Saga exclaims, no longer able to suppress her anger. “This is bigger than that! I don’t know how, but I don’t think that just because Wake’s here it means he can’t change reality. If you won’t take my word for it, fine, but I know things are changing and even you’ve acknowledged it. Why the fuck do you have a file on Casey anyway?!”

“That’s cla-”

“Classified, of course.”

While Saga regains her breath, Agent Estevez appears taken aback and the room is silent. Even Kesä looks somewhat shocked by her outburst.

“Just let me talk to Wake.” Saga pleads, more calmly. “I know more about Casey than you do. He’s my partner. Understanding Wake’s part in all this is the only way we can start figuring out how to fix it.”

The last part is a partial lie. It’s true, she needs to understand, but maybe getting the Clicker to him would be a quicker and more efficient fix.

Estevez sighs. “You have a point. Okay, you win, Anderson.”

Saga opens her mouth to respond but Estevez cuts her off. “-But, I’ll accompany you to the cells. Wake’s been agitated and I don’t want you getting hurt. Not to mention that the station’s cameras are video-only and it’s important for us to know what’s going on.”

Shit. If Estevez goes with her, she won’t be able to hand over the Clicker in secret. She can’t risk them taking it away from her.

“You really think he’ll talk to the agents that locked him up the first chance they got?” Saga argues, hoping that she’s passing off as convincing. “I’m FBI, I know how to handle an interrogation. I’ll pass on anything he tells me. For what it’s worth, you have my word.”

A tense minute of contemplation, then: “...Fine. I’ll unlock the door for you.”

Saga lets out a small sigh of relief. “Thanks, Agent.”

She’d really thought that she’d have to fight harder for her case. Still, she isn’t complaining that she’s getting her way.

“I don’t feel good about this at all,” says Estevez, moving toward the exit and beckoning for Saga to follow. “But we really don’t have much of a choice.”

As Saga stands, Kesä speaks up. "Mitä nyt? Mihin olet menossa?"

“We’ll work on getting a translator in the meantime.” Estevez remarks, already walking through the corridor toward the staircase leading up.

Saga hesitates in the doorway. Aleksi’s face is full of confusion, but also holds a twinge of sadness. Maybe even betrayal. They stare at each other for a moment, locked in another exchange via glances. 

Saga is the one to break away, guiltily shooting him a reassuring smile before turning to follow Estevez.

“I promise I’ll be back.”

Saga follows Estevez out of the morgue and back into the station itself. A wave of unease washes over her. She’s getting her way, but something about the situation leaves her feeling unnerved. She feels weirdly unprepared, like she’s missing something important and shouldn’t see Wake without it.

But she has the Clicker. That’s the main thing she needs, right? She tries to shake the feeling away and focus on the present.

How should she approach the situation with Wake? She wants to hold him accountable for his actions- hell, she wants to kill him for what he’s done to Logan, but she knows that she can’t. She could just give him the Clicker without saying a word. 

She won’t do that, though. She needs answers. She needs to hear him acknowledge what he did.

They reach the cell block door and Estevez pulls out a keycard. Before she gets the chance to use it, one of the officers approaches her.

“Uh, Ma’am? We might have a-”

“Give me a second, Young.” Estevez interrupts. “Let me just let Agent Anderson in.”

The door is unlocked and the light above the door turns green.

“I’ll lock this behind you for safety reasons”, explains Estevez. “Just knock four times when you’re ready to come out. I hope you know what you’re doing.”

Saga does. She thinks. “I do. Thanks, Estevez.”

Estevez nods and turns to address the anxious officer to the side.

Saga opens the door.

She walks in. The door closes behind her and green turns to red.

“Saga!” 

The voice that greets her isn’t Wake’s, but Ilmo’s. She spots him in the cell closest to her and he stands up when she enters. In the midst of dealing with Kesä, Ilmo’s involvement had slipped her mind. The man looks disheveled and almost animalistic- a far cry from the friendly and confident persona she was used to seeing.  Ilmo steps right up to the bars of the cage to face her, practically snarling. “Fucking FBI, FBC, you government fucks all fucking this up for us! Where the fuck is my brother?!”

That uneasy feeling settles over Saga again. Instinctively, she looks over to the adjacent cell to Ilmo’s. The cell is empty.

When she doesn’t reply, Ilmo bangs his fist against the metal bar. “What the fuck have you done to him?!”

“I…” Saga doesn’t know what to say. Her mind replays the events of the hour since they’d arrived at the station. She doesn’t remember seeing or even hearing any mention of Jaakko Koskela. “Ilmo, Jaakko isn’t here.”

“Bullshit!” Ilmo spits. “You fuckers have done something. Something’s wrong with him, and you-”

“How do you know?” Saga interjects. 

“I just know!” Ilmo responds. It sounds more like a childish whine. Saga picks up on an element of desperation in his posture and voice, and suddenly something clicks. He sounds just like how she feels on the inside, desperate to get Logan back and to help Casey. He’s worried for his twin, but he’s locked up and helpless. She can’t help but sympathize with him.

She goes to respond, to inquire more about Jaakko’s whereabouts, when another voice speaks up from a cell further down.

“Saga? Is that you?”

Wake.

Her feet start to carry her toward his cell.

“No, don’t fucking talk to him, Saga.” Ilmo says behind her. “He’s a fucking monster! You don’t know what you’re dealing with, let me out!”

Saga ignores him.

Like Ilmo, Alan Wake stands at the edge of his cell to face her, except he’s gripping the bars so tightly that his knuckles are turning white. If she thought Ilmo looked animalistic, Wake is that turned up to eleven. He wears jeans, a bloodied white tee, and an unhinged expression.

“Do you have it?” he asks.

Saga sees red.

“You wrote Logan into the story,” she says coolly. “You told me yourself, from the Dark Place.”

Wake doesn’t react to her words, and instead carries on with his crazy spiel. “Listen! I think something’s wrong. Something- something’s off. The balance is… Scratch is-”

“My daughter is dead because of you! She’s a child.” Saga hisses. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Alan shakes his head. “I’m trying to fix this. I will fix this, I’ll save everyone, I just need to know what’s happening. There’s something different, just- Just give me the Clicker. I’ll fix everything. We’re running out of time.”

Saga fights the urge to slap the man.

“And Casey?” she asks. “You change his memories to what? Tear us apart? You already ruined his life with your writing, and you just had to do it again. You are one selfish fuck.”

Alan groans, frustrated. “No, I just…”

He trails off. His grip on the iron bars loosens. “I…”

He takes a step back. His strained expression morphs into one of confusion.

“...What?”

“Don’t play dumb. You admitted to using my family as part of your sick story. Well, you’ve gone miles over the goddamn line. How did you get him to Watery?”

Alan lets out a sound of disbelief. “What are you- What was that about memories? I don’t think I…”

“And why Finnish?” Saga snaps. “You twisted so much of him for no reason, even his name. How does this help anything?”

“Saga.” Alan says loudly, breaking her out of her rant. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Saga waits for the prickling in her skin or the flash in her mind or any indication that he might be lying.

When none comes, she is taken aback. “What?”

“I didn’t do anything to Casey.” Wake states. He sounds genuine. Saga hates that. “The lodge was attacked by cultists and he ran outside, then Scratch and the Taken showed up. That’s all I know, I swear.”

“Casey showed up at Coffee World half-naked and talking in Finnish. He didn’t know where he was and he doesn’t know me at all. Are you sure you don’t know anything about that?”

Saga’s grasping at straws. Wake has to be the one responsible, because if he isn’t… What then?

Alan is silent for a moment, his face blank. “No… no, I don’t. I’m trying to remember… you said Finnish, right?”

“What are you talking about?” Ilmo cuts in, sounding very concerned. “Saga? What’s going on?”

“Yes, Finnish.” Saga looks at Ilmo, responding to Alan. With Alan claiming to know nothing, she’s willing to take answers from anyone. She’s starting to feel very, very scared for her partner.

“Give me the Clicker.” Alan says firmly, extending a hand through the bars. “It doesn’t matter what’s been happening on the outside, I’ll fix it all. Just give it to me.”

Ilmo bangs on the bars again. “Don’t fucking give it to him!”

Saga feels conflicted. On one hand, she’d worked so hard to get the Clicker. She’d risked her life, even, and it was all for the sake of saving Logan. As far as she knows, giving Wake the Clicker is the only way of getting her daughter back.

The new question that makes her hesitate is: does that extend to Casey?

Wake admitted to using Logan. She heard him say so himself, and she resents him for it. But he’s adamant in his stance that he didn’t use Casey in the same way. As much as Saga wants to blame it on him and believe he’s lying, there are too many facts that don’t add up. How would the addition of ‘Aleksi Kesä’ help the horror story? It only causes a delay, if anything. It’s a distraction and it’s unlike any of the other changes Wake has been making.

So if he has no idea, how will he be able to fix him? By handing over the Clicker, will she save Logan but doom Casey?

Even though her daughter comes first, she can’t bring herself to do that to her partner. She needs more information to get a better understanding of the situation.

“I don’t have it.” She lies.

“Thank God.” She hears Ilmo mumble.

Both of them are startled when Alan suddenly violently slams the bars of his own cell. “I knew something was different. Fuck!”

He pulls back, his fists clenched.

Saga realizes that with this lie, she needs a new plan ASAP.

Wake seems to have a similar thought process because he turns back around with wide, frantic eyes. “Saga, listen to me, you need to-”

He is cut off by all the overhead lights blacking out at once, leaving the three of them in total darkness.

Alan and Ilmo curse simultaneously.

Gunshots emanate from the door leading to the station, followed by shouts, followed by screams. Saga rushes over and tries to open it. It’s still locked.

Fuck. Not again.

Finnish translations:

"Nämä ei helvetti suostu jättämään minua rauhaan!" = "These people won't leave me the fuck alone!"

"Puhu järkeä niille!" = "Talk sense into them!"

"Mitä nyt? Mihin olet menossa?" = "What now? Where are you going?"

Thanks for reading! I hope you'll stick with me for the ride...

#alan wake 2 #alan wake 2 spoilers #fanfic #saga anderson #kiran estevez #alan wake #alex casey #aleksi kesä #ilmo koskela #jaakko koskela #fbc #federal bureau of control #a piece of true fiction

[nuwanders]

20 questions for writers

tagged absolute yonks ago by @wispstalk and @dirty-bosmer, thank you both <3

Tagging back: uhhhh everyone will probably have been tagged already. sorry if that's you. @ghoulsbeard @ervona @lucien-lachance @stormbeyondreality @zomboidatomic @gilgamish @profanetools and any other writer mutuals who'd like to consider themselves tagged!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

3

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

302,371

3. What fandoms do you write for?

the elder scrolls. it sits in that perfect overlap between 'compelling enough for me to get invested' and 'narratively dissatisfying enough for me to want to fix it'. and it's the perfect sandbox for writing abt my own characters... not sure how motivated i'd be to write fic without that sort of freedom

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

i only have 3 :/

5. Do you respond to comments?

yes, usually! unless it's a comment along the lines of 'update soon' i will usually get round to replying at some point.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

ummmm well two are WIPs and my one completed one-shot doesn't 'end' in the traditional sense (it's an imaginary prologue to an in-game book) so... i will go with The Waiting Door as it's pretty angsty already and will (eventually) continue in that vein if i ever get round to it, the fic with the angstiest ending WILL be my take on the dragonborn DLC. but that's a long way off

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

see above

8. Do you get hate on fics?

no

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

ermmmm sort of. if you count the odd sex scene in King & Lionheart. but i usually only include it if it bears some kind of significance to the narrative or someone's character development. the sex scenes i've published so far have been quite introspective and not super 'smutty' in the traditional sense. BUT i do sometimes write smut-smut. i'm just not very good at it lol so it will never see the light of day

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

no

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

no

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

no

13. Have you ever co-written a fic?

nothing published but one of my beta readers and i have a couple of one-shots together

14. What's your all-time favorite ship?

well. it has to be my beloveds jórunn and raydrin. they are everything to me. i made them when i was 9 (they weren't originally TES characters) and have thought about them basically every day since. my forever ship fr <3

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

at this rate... king & lionheart </3

16. What are your writing strengths?

hmmmmm i think my character work is a strength. and i've been trying to get more creative with my prose on my last few projects/chapters which i think is paying off (based on some lovely comments i've received)!

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

picking and choosing what to include and what to skip over. i think, as well, i was so afraid of purple prose for a long time that my prose suffered from being wayyyyy too sterile and uninspired. but this is something i'm working on!

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

OUGH this one's complicated. done correctly, i love it! but it needs to take into account the languages spoken by the POV character. a few lines of dialogue in another language to indicate that the POV character doesn't understand what is being said is fine. but obviously you don't want to write out a whole conversation like this. there's a few other contexts where i think it's okay but TLDR it depends.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

i think i wrote tokyo mew mew fic when i was maybe 7 or 8? if that counts

20. Favorite fic you've written?

has to be the waiting door! everyone please read the waiting door. not to toot my own horn but i fucking ATE with that fic <3

#tag game #text

[heartscfvalor]

@prophisied: ' hey, dad ?? ' charlie pauses in front of him, fidgeting slightly before she speaks again, a slightly sheepish smile on her face. ' you know…you could always stay at the hotel for a while. if you want, i mean, i'm sure the others won't mind. ' it's a tentative offer, one charlie is hopeful her dad might be willing to take her up on.

(*)

The sound of his daughter's voice is always music to his ears; as soon as she speaks, he's perking right up, facing her with bright eyes. "Hey kiddo, what's up?"

He's not expecting the offer at all; it wasn't like it was deserved, he hadn't meant to be ignoring her efforts for all of these months, and he arrived -- in his own opinion -- a little too late to be of any real help, in anything. But she offers anyway, and Lucifer is first baffled, and then so touched that he doesn't even bother hiding how his eyes well up.

"Really?" He can hardly dare to believe it. "You want me to move in? Yes! I-I mean, I'd love to! So long as I'm not crampin' your style or anything." A shy little chuckle escapes him. "It'd be good to have new surroundings, perhaps. Plus, not to toot my own horn, but I think we spiffied up your hotel somethin' real nice."

#prophisied #answered;; lucifer #omg hello!!! he's so excited for his daughter

[cosmic-navel-gazin]

Hello I submit our beloved depressed wraith Raziel for the blorbo bingo <3

TWO ASKS FOR MY BOY!!! Okay here goes:

My disheveled depressed blue corpse son, my Skrunkly little scrimblo ... 🕍💀⚰️🧛🏻🌀 💙👻🗡️

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣄⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⣴⡶⢿⣟⡛⣿⢉⣿⠛⢿⣯⡈⠙⣿⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⡾⠻⣧⣬⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠉⣠⣾⣿⠿⠿⠿⢿⣿⣦⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣾⡋⣻⣾⣿⣿⣿⠿⠟⠛⠛⠛⠀⢻⣿⡇⢀⣴⡶⡄⠈⠛⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⣸⣿⣉⣿⣿⣿⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢿⣇⠈⢿⣤⡿⣦⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⢰⣿⣉⣿⣿⣿⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠦⠀⢻⣦⠾⣆⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⣾⣏⣿⣿⣿⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣿⡶⢾⡀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⣿⠉⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣧⣼⡇⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⣿⡛⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿⣧⣼⡇⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠸⡿⢻⣿⣿⣿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣼⣿⣥⣽⠁⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⢻⡟⢙⣿⣿⣿⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣾⣿⣧⣸⡏⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠻⣿⡋⣻⣿⣿⣿⣦⣤⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣠⣴⣿⣿⢿⣥⣼⠟⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⣯⣤⣿⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠛⣷⣴⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⠛⠾⣧⣼⣟⣉⣿⣉⣻⣧⡿⠟⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠉⠉⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

The free space is for Raziel's last gift for Kain: Hope ;)

Pretty privilege includes wraith form btw (I know zephon mocks his ass saying he's not Kain's pretty boi anymore but I have to disagree, he's still pretty to me)

I liked him as soon as the intro for Soul Reaver 1 finished, and my love for him only grew with each subsequent hour playing and with each subsequent game. Some reasons why (there's too many!!!!) :

HIS VOICE, THE ACTING, THE THEATRICALITY OF IT ALL, THE GESTICULATION THE DIALOGUE THE PHILOSOPHIZING THE MORAL GRANDSTANDING... Ugh I love his inner-monologues, his musings and narrations (guys... I-I... may have a type....)

Like, HIS WRAITH DESIGN! ALL HIS DESIGNS BUT WRAITH ONE IS SO UNIQUE AND MEMORABLE! I had seen his design before playing the games and it immediately grabbed my attention. I have never forgotten about it ever since I first saw it. The " no lower jaw no pants thing" he has going on, I love that he's self-conscious about his missing lower jaw so he hides it with his former cape/cowl. I love his low poly ass in SR1, his empty ass rib-cage,the very grabbable waist, the glowing blank eyes, the mascara running down his bony cheeks, his blue tits… I see a game that let you play as a disheveled corpse and I'm all in. In love with it immediately, and it pisses me off that I'll never look this good!

I love his animation for eating souls.

Shout-out also to his T-posing jesus thing he does to pass through grates!

I love his ability to shift between the material and spiritual relms sooooo much, the way the architecture and environments bend and twist, my beloved

I love him as a vehicle for you to go and explore the history of Nosgoth, the way you the player are just as clueless and ignorant as he is in a way that draws you to want to dive in deeper and deeper into this world, it's so well done

I love his Ouroboros-core ass and all that that symbolism entails, I love you doomed by the narrative but nevertheless never stop trying

I love you harrowing tragic experience after tragic experience, take my boy outta these situations but also don't because they're so good

I love you endings of Soul Reaver 2 and Defiance and what it does for his character, I love you hope and trust

I love how he's everyone's pawn and his attempts to free himself from that all throughout space and time

I love his utterly confused and lost ass

I love his history, both what is in the text and all the hints and details you can read into if you want, I've seen such good meta and headcanons! ALSO Everyone shut up and go read @razielim's Metasanguine for some delicious scrumptious raziel and his brothers' meta and empire era fleshing out of their characters.

I love his self-righteous indignation I LOVE YOU "YOU'RE A RIGHTEOUS FIEND AREN'T YOU APPARENTLY I AM" (allow me to toot my own horn and link to this art I did right after the ending of SR2 fucked me)

I love his character development

HIS RELATIONSHIP WITH HIS KIN, ESPECIALLY KAIN!!!!!!!!!!!!

ALSO HIM AND JANOS

HIS TIE WITH AND EVENTUAL REVELATION OF THE SOUL REAVER SWORD YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND HOW MUCH SOUL REAVER 2 FUCKED ME UPPPPPPP AND HOW STUPID I FELT FOR NOT HAVING SEEN IT COMING I LOVE FEELING LIKE A FUCKING IDIOT

Love his multiple incarnations throughout the many centuries (it's so good to see the many ways he has changed and the many more he may not have changed at all. ) THE FACT THAT THESE FOUR ARE THE SAME PERSON AND IT'S NOT JUST A CLUSTERFUCK THERE IS MEANING AND INTENT BEHIND THIS AND AAAARGHHH WHERE ELSE DO YOU GET THIS KINDA SHIT

I COULD GO ON AND ON YOU KNOW HOW IT IS...

#Raziel #Legacy of Kain #Soul Reaver #asks/replies #killyourrdarlingss #taonpest #I may have gotten a bit too carried away with this blorbo bingo game #but it provided a good excuse for me to self indulge and think about all the things I love about my children #just writing this makes me want to reinstall the games... #ask game

[alexr-fightgames]

... OK! We did it, that's everybody, that is the entire cast of Tekken 7 at purple ranks or higher!

Thanks so much to @jaguar-bomb for the suggestion, that was a silly thing to do and it possibly annoyed a fair number of actual-red-ranks players, but we did it!

Out of this last batch, by far the easiest for me was Shaheen. He's Normal Tekken The Character. He just like... plays Tekken. You want a df1, a hopkick, a nice mid whiff punish from range, some fairly low-commitment low-pokes? And you want a Law-style slide? And an orbital? OK! That's Shaheen! The interesting thing for him was that the recommended combo (which does a bunch of damage) in the spreadsheet involves like three stance cancels but it's not hard at all. Kinda satisfying actually. Once I got that one combo down, he was just like "alright, let's play Tekken" and I got him from "never played before" to 24 dan in a sitting. The combo was satisfying, and Normal Tekken is pretty great, but Shaheen does like nothing for me as a character.

Steve was much more of a struggle. I'm going to go ahead and say my Steve is bad. Steve is really strong when played well, but he's kind of fundamentally about timing mixups to set up CHs, but I think I'd need to spend a lot more time playing him to make him work; he seems like a very specialist character. I struggled to set up good offense and really open people up. But maybe he's not supposed to do that.

My favorite out of this batch -- easily YOSHIMITSU. Yoshi is just extraordinarily fun, and once I got into using his kincho stance more aggressively (and going into KIN out of, say, a 2,2 block punish), he started to really come together. NOTABLY: the combo that they tell you to do in the Applay spreadsheet and some tutorials, where you end with d+2,2,1 -- I don't think that combo is suitable for new Yoshi players. Way too inconsistent. Screw as soon as you can with f+3 and end with b+2,1,1+2 KIN f+2 . Yoshi is super good times, and not to toot my own horn too much here, but my Yoshi costume is sick as heck. He's just really satisfying to play, and I might spend some more time with him. I'm not normally into "what the hell is happening here" complex characters, but Yoshi is so loveable, and the Manji clan is there to give to the needy, so, y'know. Party on, Mr. Mitsu.

So uhhh... that's everybody! Challenge complete!

#fgc #tekken #tekken 7 #51 character challenge #steve fox #yoshimitsu #shaheen #ten character challenge

[jestersnonsense]

HM Headcanon Sheet: Ezra Beane (The Skeleton Hitchhiker)

Here's the list of headcanons I have for my interpretation of Ezra from the Haunted Mansion. Initially, this was intended to be posted alongside my reference art for him, but after seeing how long it is, I decided to make it into two separate posts.

Headcanons Below!

General Headcanons:

Generally speaking, Ezra is a self-centered, staunchly independent person. He loves doing his own thing and hates being told what to do.

But with that said, Ezra, Phineas, and Gus are ride-or-die friends. You mess with one of them, you mess with all of them.

Ezra acts as sort of the de-facto leader of the hitchhiker trio. He's not the smartest (that title belongs to Phineas) nor is he the most physically capable or resourceful (that would be Gus). But Ezra is usually the one with ideas and a preference for which direction to go, hence why he takes more of a "leader" type role. This was their dynamic in life and it continues to be so in death.

I also headcanon Ezra as the type to be very impulsive. He's very much a "act first, ask questions later" type of person. A lot of times, he acts without thinking about consequences or how his actions would affect others. It has definitely come back to bite him more times than he can count.

Ezra is the tallest character in the main cast, taller than even the Ghost Host!

I headcanon Gus as mute, so both Phineas and Ezra learned sign language in order to communicate with him better. Gus taught them both while they were still alive. Ezra admittedly had a harder time with it than Phineas did.

Sometimes, Ezra, Phineas, and Gus would sign secret messages to each other when they don't want others eavesdropping on them.

Ezra likes to brag about how attractive he is. He thinks of himself as "the hot one" both between himself and Hatty and between himself and the other two hitchhikers. In reality, Ezra's just kind of average. Phineas and Gus let him toot his horn all he wants.

In Life:

He was born "Ezra Beane Hatter", the younger brother of Alister Beane Hatter (who would later become the Hatbox Ghost).

Ezra's mother died after giving birth to Ezra, so Alister and Ezra ended up being raised by their father.

Their father was very strict with them, which Ezra didn't care for. A lot of times, he would run off to go do whatever he wanted (When he was younger, that meant sneaking to a friend's house to go play. When he got older, it meant going to bars.). Every time Ezra would run off though, he would get caught by someone who would bring him right back to dear ol' dad.

Ezra did get punished a lot for this, but that didn't stop him. Eventually, his dad gave up on him and the brunt of the responsibility was given to Alister.

When their father died, Alister was left to take over the family hat shop. Ezra, who had no interest in helping run the family business, used this opportunity to run away from home one final time. He never said a word about it to his brother. He simply left town and was never seen again.

From this point forward, my hcs for Ezra are basically just a modified version of Ghost Gallery!Ezra

He hitchhiked from place to place, never really staying in one area for too long.

I should note that at this point, he's stopped using his original surname and just goes by "Ezra Beane"

He's been in and out of jail for various petty crimes.

And it was in one of these jail cells where he met Phineas and Gus, his cellmates (and soon to be best mates!)

It was while they were in jail together that Gus taught Phineas and Ezra sign language.

The three of them broke out of jail together and once again hitched their way out of town.

The way they broke out of jail is pretty much the same as in Ghost Gallery, in which Ezra fasts for period of time, slides out between the bars, snags the keys, and he and his buddies are home free.

Ezra, Phineas, and Gus traveled together as a trio for quite some time, but towards the end of their lives they got separated.

Gus went off on his own, while Ezra and Phineas went to a carnival.

And it was at this carnival where Ezra would soon meet his end.

Ezra fell head-over-heels in love with one of the carnival performers. She was a big, beautiful, headstrong woman, and the two of them bonded over having both run away from home to escape unwanted responsibility.

Unfortunately, I can't talk about how I think Ezra died without getting into suggestive territory (and I want to keep this post sfw so that everyone can read it). But let's just say his carnival sweetheart accidentally killed him.

His ghost would tell you it was totally worth it though.

In Death:

After his untimely death, Ezra received a personal summons to the mansion, courtesy of Madame Leota.

The invitation turned out to be on behalf of Gus, and Phineas is there too!

With the trio of besties in life now reunited in death, they spend their days in the afterlife playing pranks and causing mischief around the mansion (much to the chagrin of the other residents)

The three hitchhikers are basically inseparable. Sure, they might follow different mortals home. But after their respective adventures are over, they always come back together and share stories.

Also they totally go on all of the other park rides together after hours. Ezra's favorites are Splash Mountain and Thunder Mountain.

All three hitchhikers like to collect souvenirs from the various mortals they follow home. They also like to collect merch of themselves. Their various hoards are scattered in hidden places around the mansion.

The hitchhikers also get really excited whenever they get a chance to do meet-and-greets or join the parades. For the parades, they always make sure to position themselves so that Gus has the best view from the float. 

Ezra is admittedly not great with kids, but he tries! That said, I feel like he's the type of person to teach children curse words because he thinks it would be funny.

Interestingly, Ezra and Hatty did not run into each other when Hatty first moved into the mansion. The brothers only learned they lived in the mansion together after Hatty's return in 2015. Cue Spiderman pointing meme here.

Neither of them were happy to see each other at first, especially Hatty. In his view, Ezra running away from home after their father died was Ezra abandoning him. After the two of them talked things through they, they eventually agreed to let bygones be bygones.

The brothers still neg each other on a regular basis though, as any sibling would.

Ezra's favorite song post-mortem is Queen's "Fat Bottomed Girls". You can probably guess why.

Ezra is very jealous of the fact that Gus gets to keep all his hair post-mortem. The fact that Ezra is balding in his ghost form took a blow to his ego. He likes to conveniently forget that he already had a bit of a receding hairline going when he was alive.

Low-key still pining after the carnival woman that (accidentally) killed him though. It's rare that he would ever admit it. But in Ezra's mind, she was the best he ever had. He just wishes he had the chance to tell her and say a proper goodbye. 10/10 would do the same thing with her again if he had the chance.

#haunted mansion #hitchhiking ghosts #ezra the skeleton #ezra beane #the haunted mansion #disney #headcanons #text post #hm headcanons #jesters ramblings

[greatbritishsimchallenge]

Cassian pushed open the door to the bedroom to see Regina with a man he didn't recognise.

As soon as he entered, the man leapt back.

"Get back into bed," Regina barked to the man, ignoring Cassian. The man looked from Cassian to Regina nervously. "I said get back into bed!" she shouted again.

The man hesitated once more before complying with Regina's command.

Cassian watched as Regina deliberately pushed the man flat on his back and straddled him, as if she wanted Cassian to be in no doubt whose decision this all was. It was then that he realised Flori was telling the truth.

"You're back so soon!" said Flori cheerfully. "I wasn't sure whether you'd kill the bloke who was shagging her or attempt to join them. From what I've heard about you, the latter felt like the more likely possibility to be honest."

Cassian paced the room angrily, "She wanted me to see that. It was part of her plan."

"Yes - goodness I really must start keeping some treats on me. You've earned at least three biscuits by now."

"And then what?"

"Well, while you were seeing that, I would have laced your wine with poison. In your anger, you would have gone to your study to get drunk and downed the whole bottle. Boom, you're dead. Not exactly a complicated plan, but she isn't exactly a complicated woman. She wanted to piss you off and kill you - simple, really." Flori's voice was more dreamy and distant now and she kept staring out of the window as if distracted by something, or perhaps as if she could no longer really be bothered with their conversation.

Cassian shook his head, "How am I to stay married to someone who attempted to have me murdered?"

"There's no 'attempt' about it, my dear," Flori replied wistfully. "If you reject my deal tonight, I will simply follow my deal with her. You'll spend the rest of your life having a servant test every drink and every meal for poison before you eat it - and even then, I'll still manage to get you."

Cassian put his head into his hands, "So, it is my life or my daughter's? That's my options?"

"Don't be so dramatic - no-one is killing your daughter," Flori's voice was sounding even more tired now. Cassian surveyed her worriedly, trying to comprehend what her sudden change in mood meant. "Give her to me and I will make her an immortal princess of a realm far more powerful than any she could marry into. Plus, you get to be saved from assassination, single again and marry whomever you please. Hate to toot my own horn, but I think I'm offering a pretty good deal here."

Cassian paced some more and kept turning to look at Flori. She looked exhausted, as if she could fall to sleep standing where she was. Cassian felt like his time to make a decision was fast running out.

"Alright. You can take Charlotte. But don't kill Regina yet. I'm going to leave for the New World tomorrow. Make sure I'm far enough into my journey that no-one can blame me."

Flori smiled with a deep sense of peace and satisfaction, "Done."

"And don't poison her," Cassian added. "It is too quick. Make her sick. Something slow, and painful. Make the bitch suffer."

At this, Flori suddenly gained back her energy and laughed uproariously, "Oh, what I would give for my mother to know how fucked up her family has become."

Start (Iron Age) | Start (Roman Britain) | Start (Anglo Saxon) | Start (Medieval) | Start (Tudor)

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#great british sim challenge #sims 4 history challenge

[byunbhyunz]

D.O - “Not to toot my own horn or anything, but the dog loves me more.”

Pairing: Kyungsoo/Reader

Genre: fluff

Word count: 970

Prompt: “Not to toot my own horn or anything, but the dog loves me more.”

The first few steps to getting a pet together with Kyungsoo was agreeing on it being a dog, and that you would get them from a shelter. Age didn’t matter to either of you, you just wanted a dog to start a new chapter in your relationship. Also, Kyungsoo was hinting on wanting a baby together and how he wanted a pet first, who can be the first best friend of your child. So you started on looking for the perfect dog.

There were some perspectives you took into consideration at first, but soon they were thrown out the window, and the only point were you loving them, and feeling a bond with them at first sight, since you would be the one spending most of the time with it, especially when Kyungsoo would go on tour with his members.

The two of you went through a lot of shelters until you found the perfect one that matches well with your lifestyles. Although, Kyungsoo sometimes had to physically hold you back from getting a puppy at the first places, you were happy in the end that he did, and you could find Nosy.

Nosy was a three and a half years old mixed-breed dog with the fluffiest golden fur and the biggest dark patch around his nose. He looked like he just put his nose into a bucket of black paint, and his ears always perked up when Kyungsoo called out for him. He was a playful dog, but just the right size for living in an apartment.

As expected, you were the one spending most of the time with him, walking him in the evening when your boyfriend still had schedule, and you were feeding him too. You were the one scolding him when he didn’t signed you that he needed to be taken out and just pissed on the carpet, and Kyungsoo was the one patting his head after your harsh toned words. You were the bad parent, while Kyungsoo was the cool one, who sneaked him snacks during dinner when he thought you wouldn’t notice.

So you totally understood why Nosy was more fond of Kyungsoo than you. It wasn’t said out loud, you just saw it. And you thought it didn’t matter that much to your boyfriend either. But oh, boy, you were wrong!

He rubbed the fact in when you were walking Nosy together after a long time. Lately, walks would only mean the two of you, with Nosy going crazy from smells and you lazily strolling after him with the leash in your hand. Your mind seemed to be always busy with unnecessary thoughts ever since Kyungsoo told you he planned to enlist the military early, because this way his schedule would line up with an offering for a leading role in a movie. The walks were for you too, to cleanse your mind until Kyungsoo got home.

You were more than happy for him. His latest and probably most important movie role up to date was successful among the critics and people equally, and you could see the pride in his eyes that he tried to hide behind a small smile whenever his members bragged about his talent in private or public. It was important to him, so it was important to you.

While walking Nosy with him, your mind involuntarily wandered to the dangerous topic, and before you could took control of you facial expression, it was written all over you. Kyungsoo must have noticed you were struggling with something, because he took your hand in his free one. His eyes were on Nosy when you looked at him, but his eyebrows were furrowed into a confused line.

“You know, you’ll have to work hard with Nosy, while I’m not here,” he said suddenly.

“We’re always working hard. And you’ll be allowed to leave the barracks, from what I heard.”

“I only meant you.” He didn’t continued until you looked at him again, questioningly. You could see a smile hiding in the corner of his lips, dark eyes soft and melting you right on the spot despite his next, smug words. “Not to toot my own horn or anything, but the dog loves me more.”

As if Nosy heard his name and knew what Kyungsoo just said, he ran to his feet, and rubbed his head to his knee, pleading for petting. You couldn’t hold back a laugh. Those two could always make you feel better, no matter what.

“So it will be your time to shine, and spoil him. Though, he won’t betray his love for me.”

“It’s okay.” You knelt down to Nosy, smiling at how his wet nose found your warm hands immediately, then sneezed into your palm. His tail wiggled happily, as if he just did the best thing in the world. “I have my ways. It should be you worrying about Nosy loving me more when you’ll be back.”

“If you charm him the way you did with me, then I’m already shaking in my boots.”

His loving words made you heart swell, but you tried to play it off coolly, giving all of you attention to your dog while responding.

“You’re not even wearing boots. And you and I remember very differently about who charmed who. Weren’t you the one sending me a bunch of roses and dandelions, and when I asked you what it was for, you said I deserve all of the flowers in the world, but for now that was all the flower shop could sell you?”

Instead of answering, he simply knelt down next to you and kissed you slowly. You smiled under the touch of his lips. The sweet moment only ended because Nosy started to occasionally lick your faces while he kept running around you, tangling you with the leash.

#exo fanfic #exo fluff #exo #d.o fanfic #d.o fluff #d.o #kyungsoo #kyungsoo fanfic #kyungsoo fluff

[jonathantaylorthomas]

[excerpt] “Me and Jack, we keep each other informed on any project we’re working on,” Spears tells Rolling Stone. “We usually take at least a week out of the year just to create with no goal in mind. That’s basically how Red Hearse was created.”

Before Antonoff began to work on Swift’s tenth album, he was cooking up tracks with Spears, Dew, and Zoë Kravitz. (Kravitz revealed earlier this year that she is currently working on her debut solo album with Antonoff). During a brainstorming session, the quartet put together a track that would eventually become “Lavender Haze.”

“It was not specifically meant for anything,” he recalls. “That one was me going through sounds for 15 minutes and eventually hitting one button by accident. Jack’s eyes lit up and was like ‘What was that?’It just happened to be this small little loop that my guy Jahaan [Sweet, fellow TDE producer] sent me a while back.”

Spears twisted up the loop and they added a bunch of effects to make it sound the way it does now. “Sam went in with the melodies. Zoë is actually a creative genius. She’s not just a phenomenal actor. Her ability to create different sonics and find different melodies is next level.”

A few months later, Antonoff reached out to Spears, Dew, and Kravitz to see if he could pitch the song to Swift, who loved it immediately. She wrote lyrics inspired by a Mad Men scene, numerous tabloid rumors and online gossip about her relationship status, and “1950s expectations.”

“When Jack brought us in the hear for the first time, all our mouths dropped. She took it to a whole new world and made it her own. She created different pockets we did not hear.”

“Glitch,” one of the bonus songs on the Midnights (3am) edition, was born from the same studio session as “Lavender Haze.” The bubbly “Karma” came later, when Antonoff reached out to Spears for any other ideas he may have to contribute to the album and its synth-pop vision.

“‘Karma’ was just a last-minute Hail Mary,” Spears says. “I remembered I was working with my guy Keanu [Beats] and had something that was too perfect not to send to her. As soon as I sent it, Jack was instantly like ‘This is the one. Playing it for Taylor now. We’re going in on it.’ The next day, I heard the final product with her vocals on it.”

While it’s still too early to tell which songs will be the runaway successes from the album, it’s clear “Karma” has struck a chord on TikTok, nearing 20,000 videos for the official sound with only a few days under its belt.

“Such a fun song! It instantly rings up and you just feel joy inside. And the messaging is so cool,” Spears says.

Spears only heard a few other songs from the LP prior to its officially release; Antonoff had sent over a sampling of what him and Swift had made so Spears had a sense of the sound they were going for when he went to reproduce the beats following the lyric and vocal additions. He was impressed by the sound, concept and surprise drop of seven extra tracks. He even has favorites already.

“Right now I’m going back and forth from ‘Anti-Hero’ and ‘Glitch.’ Not to toot my own horn, but I like the weirdness of ‘Glitch.’ The breakdown part is everything it was meant to be. This is so amazing to me.”