WHO: @florapierce LOCATION: Outside Tonopah

Mikayla was growing tired of these clandestine meetings. With Matias out of the picture, though, she didn't have much of a choice unless she wanted to risk the possibility of retaliation from whoever Dante Parker was working for if she didn't show. She settled in the same booth she'd met with the man in when he'd offered her the proposition to begin with, waiting impatiently as the minutes ticked by and he still hadn't shown. Was this a power play? Had he figured out she was giving him false information? She was about to get up to leave when a woman settled into the booth across from her instead, and a confused look came to her face. "I'm sorry, that seat isn't free. I'm waiting for someone to join me."

okay so they may have a minor chokehold on me at the minute-

Sentence starters ★ @evoblue sent:

❛ well, the way i see it, there are three possibilities: one, you stole it; two, you stole it; or three, you stole it. ❜

"Aww, that's a MEAN ASSUMPTION to make! Sure, it's maybe a little unconventional, but I'm allowed to have a sense of style, aren't I?"

There was a ladies' handbag slung over his shoulder. If you knew what you were looking at, you could immediately tell that it wasn't the sort of bag that you would pick up at any old department store... nor was it the kind that came with a light pricetag attached to it.

At least, Svern was currently dressed more to match the item than just, say, in a hoodie and jeans, so what he'd said mightn't be dismissible off the bat as total bullshit. Leastwise not at first glance. However... that didn't detract from the accuracy of Blue's accusation.

That bag was MOST DEFINITELY stolen property. Svern hadn't even gotten to empty it of the original owner's belongings yet.

He stood with a hand on his hip, leaning with weight focused on one foot, the other hand comfortably resting on the bag like it belonged there. There was a little pout on his face to complete the attitude.

Being called out was annoying, but he wasn't worried just yet.

He held the pout for a second longer, before giving it up. "Well, whatever. I can forgive a careless remark like that. It's fine."

Abruptly, he leaned forwards in Blue's direction, squinting just a smidgeon. Breezily waving aside the matter of the definitely-stolen bag, Svern would see what happened if he changed the subject.

"But hey, I recognise you! You're BLUE, aren't you?"

Hello! Do you have any art from Silver Blaze? I’d love to see Sherlock on John’s shoulders ruffling his hair 🥰

Had to wait a week for the second episode to come out to get context but gosh that scENe KILLED ME

little sunshines ☀️

jumpscare

[ID: A cartoon drawing of Slimecicle and Juanaflippa, she's on Slime's arms as she has a blank stare at his shoulder, her body is loose as Slime has one hand on the top of her head (the other arm holding her by the side of her torso) he has a disturbed / scared / shocked expression, looking up, not at her, his brows furrowed, his pupils are unfocused. There's blood that has the color of a TV glitch, it's coming from Juana's head, and is on Slime's hand, that is holding her close to him. The TV glitch colours are on Juana's pupils as well. Juana has a human appareance, brown hair tied in 2 pigtails, she has glasses, a yellow t-shirt, a red shirt under, she has some dark green shoes, combining with a skirt of the same color, white baggy socks. She has red horns, wings and tail dragon-like. The background is black, a TV-static texture coming from Slime's head. There are 2 lines resembling their heart's pulse, first one is white, it's from Slime, its a quick one, going up and down, agitated, and the second is from Flippa, a pink line with no sign of life. The drawing is a reference to a painting called "Ivan the Terrible and his son Ivan". ]

HOLE-DWELLING HOLE-DWELLING HOLE-DWELLING

zuko: we just need one of those construction trucks. with the thingys to pick stuff up

katara: the forklift ??

zuko: hey i never said i was smart i just know it exists

katara: i never said i was smart either i had to look up the damn name of the vehicle.

katara: i knew ‘lift’ was in there somewhere my remaining 2 brain cells are close to deteriorating

sokka: you two should join forces

zuko: we did. it took both of our brain power to come up with forklift

office harlot mine yoshitaka

bugs !!

I will be posting a little Astarion piece later today! 🤗

What I Need

911! It’s an emergency! Here’s what I need STAT: to get all dressed up with a handsome man who has a deep craving to tickle me, wine and dine somewhere with my feet secretly in his lap under the table, talking about everything and nothing… then to be whisked off to a cute cabin with a cozy fire, be pampered and spoiled, massaged and cuddled… Afterwards, once I’m feeling all relaxed and cared for, then I’ll be his own personal little tickle toy all night.

That’s when he whips out the silk cuffs and traps me in all night on a comfy bed so I can just laugh and laugh, scream, beg and moan, and laugh even more, all because of his fingers/feathers/tongue/lips/whatever tools he surprises me with. I need someone who can play me like a piano and find out what music i make 🎶 someone who GETS it. Someone who knows exactly what it’s doing to me, and it does the same thing to you as a tickler. Someone who has an innate desire to find all the ticklish spots on my body…then exploit every. single. one. Someone who wants to sweetly, gently, ever so cruelly tickle me until I’m a babbling mess who can’t even form thoughts anymore. Someone who can expertly make me feel like I’m on tickle cloud 9 ☁️

When I’m tied up and tickled and gently teased, everything else in the world just allll melts away (while I’m melting into a puddle ahem). I love when a guy has that dominant energy, with a soft teasing side that just makes me absolutely turn to mush. Cooing in my ear with a honey-dripping voice, the occasional threatening reminder of how I’m absolutely trapped there with nowhere to go. That slight sadistic streak that perfectly compliments my fluffy masochist side. I love the gift of exchanging cheeky smiles and sharing joyous, contagious, uncontrollable laughter 🥰

It's home. He's home and its late and its dark. he knows he should have been home hours ago, wishes he could have been but work finished late and then one deal ran into another and before he knew it he was an hour and a half from home at 1 in the morning. After the last deal was done Eddie made his way back in his van, eyes red and itchy with the overhwleming desire to close but painfully aware of the distance he had to drive. After a lot of cut corners and questionable driving he was finally pulling up to the trailer.

All he wants to do is sleep but even in his tired state he clocks the light on in the window. Knowing that lights don't just get 'left on' when there are bills to pay and mouths to feed Eddie enters the trailer quietly, hoping that its not an ominous sign. Hoping as well that this isn't the precursor to getting yelled at for being out late and not telling anyone…again.

As silently as he can Eddie pulls the door open and steps in side. So far so good, nobody has started shouting yet but as he turns he sees the lamp glowing beside the couch and can hear the radio on low. Comforting sounds of Eddie's younger years playing Credence Clearwater Revival. It is at this point Eddie catches the figures waiting in the dim light. Wayne at the end of the couch, hot mug of something in his hand. His expression is one Eddie is well used to, concentrated and contemplative, measuring the words he says and actions he takes. He's in his pyjammas but far from sleep. He's angled towards the figure on the couch next to him. The person, only translated into Eddie's head as 'human' after he deciphered half of the mass as blankets and hair, sits hunched over themselves and hugs their own mug in close.

Eddie takes a step forward, makes to sit down as Wayne talks slow and gentle 'Your boy had a bit of a fright son. Thought I'd break out the big guns and show him what we used to do when you first came home'

He doesn't say the rest, doesn't need to. When Eddie came to stay with Wayne the nights were endless. He'd wake himself up in tears, too scared to go find comfort incase he got pushed away but somehow Wayne always knew. Eddie would never be alone in the dark long before the hall light went on and Wayne was knocking at his door, offering hot milk and a distraction. Eventually the routine turned into going over old photo albums of Wayne's 'glory days' and then, the new additions after Eddie's arrival. It quickly became a fail safe for the both of them when the dark nights and silence were too much.

Which is how Eddie ends up here, sat close to the mass, Steve, a hand crept under the blanket that was quickly latched on to. A photo album is sat across Steve's lap and Wayne talks him through the story of his own high school band and then quickly moves on to the photo of Eddie knee deep in mud and arms out stretched ready to pull the photo taker into the mess with him, devious smile on his 10 year old face, a hint of the dungeon master yet to come.

The stories continue, ranging from photos of a young Eddie in rubber boots and a sun dress to Wayne in denim shorts and an awful sunburn as he points a spatula at the camera in a rustic looking kitchen. This ritual calms them all between the quiet laughter and tired gasps of surprise, eventually Steve's shoulders relax and Wayne's voice becomes somehow even more subdued. Eddie is fully leaning into Steve's space and the warmth between the three of them somehow heats the whole trailer.

They are all close to sleep when Eddie takes the album off Steve's lap and manages to force himself to stand, pulling Steve up with him and still swaddled in his blanket. Eddie makes to guide Steveto their bedroom when he's met with resistance. Steve pulls the blanket tighter to himself but shifts his shoulders back, almost as if to brace for a fight when he tilts his head towards Wayne ' Thank you. I- I've never...Just thank you' he's got his back to Eddie but Eddie can hear the crack in his voice, the battle to keep the emotion down, can see the slight tremour in the blanket as Steve works to keep himself together. Its all for nothing when Wayne stands and places a hand on his shoulder before bringing him into a forceful hug 'Son, you never have to thank me'.

Its a moment that Eddie knows will be seared into his heart until the day it stops beating. The two men holding on, however briefly, to each other, both understanding the other person that little bit more and sharing more of their soul in the process.

There's a pause as they separate and Eddie takes Steve's hand tugs him forward and lets him lead the way to the bedroom. Before he turns to follow Eddie catches Wayne's eye and they share a somber smile. Eddie's heart feels like its going to collapse on itself when he thinks about how Wayne doesn't understand the traumas these boys have been through but how that hasn't stopped him from being there for them.

It doesn't go unspoken, this feeling between Eddie and his Uncle. They find time, they always do, where they put their music on and talk in that unhurried way about what they've been doing, catching each other up on their lives and knowing the love is there.

For now, Wayne tilts his head up 'that's a good one you've got there son.' All the endorsement Eddie could ever want, caught in a few words 'now go to him and let me get my bed' its a grumbled statement that has more meaning than can be explained. Eddie gives a mock salute, knowing that the nightmares and stories will be re-hashed when the time is right. But for now the urgency has been tamed and the fire burns low in their hearts.

Before he gets to the kitchen there's a final 'and I need my sleep boy so don't get any ideas' from the couch. 'wouldn't dream of it old man'

every scene where mitya is questioned:

good morning did you know you are now the face of the dark choco cookie tag?

am i actually,, idk wether to feel embarrassed or happy cause thats my wife but L,FAOOO.. LETS GOOOO???!

Do none of you heartless bastards care about our murdered moms?