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swampstew · 10 months

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Captain_CumShot

Welcome to Raven's Reading Nook - a small corner of this blog dedicated to cozy story times. Take a seat on the chaise lounge, plug your electronic device in so you can enjoy this multi-chapter, full blown smut story. The Captain is the snack and sadly, I have nothing to offer to soothe the yearning. As always, links to Wattpad and AO3 at the bottom. Enjoy, from your favorite loyal, cabin hoe♥

Summary: Eustass Kid finalized his OnlyFans account - let's hope it doesn't get reported again.

Minors DNI you will be blocked - for adult audiences only.

A digital illustration of ocean waves and a menacing looking ship sailing the waters graced the banner of the OnlyFans account, layered with a deep red, blood-stained filter over the art. Right under the seafaring artwork in bold letters spelled out Captain_CumShot, the owner of the account. A partially faded jolly roger was pinned behind the account name, as if to add to the mischievous vibe of the page.

The circular profile photo was a zoomed in snapshot of the Captain’s face. He looked dangerous – a pair of worn, welding goggles pushed back his long red hair, a red-painted, wide-mouth grin with his tongue poking between his teeth, and sharp golden eyes pierced anyone who looked upon the photo with a sly look. A long, narrow nose centered on his face, shaved eyebrows, two long scars over his left eye, and an anti-eyebrow piercing on the side of his right cheekbone accentuated his devilishly handsome face. Was the dark, liquid-like substance that stained his face blood or something naughtier? His location placed him in the great State of Desire.

Captain_CumShot’s profile page was expertly put together. The first thing one would notice was his About Me poster. Another photo of the undeniably sexy face graced the cover, this time in the middle of being splattered by a viscous looking liquid; it had the same blood-stained filter layered over it like the profile banner. The subtitle under the photo read: No Discounts - Only thirsty bitches willing to pay get to have a sip.

He had a message for his readers –

“Hiya dolls. This is the one and only page for Eustass ‘Captain’ Kid, the kind of guy all your parents warned you to stay away from. I’m terrible, toxic, and plain fucking awful for your frail little hearts, and I know that just makes you want me more. Unfortunately for you, I’m untouchable. Fret not, little dolls. Just because you can’t have a taste doesn’t mean I’ll leave you hanging. I’m nothing if not a huuuuge tease, with a huuuuuuuuge cock to back it up. Have a little morsel that I was decent enough to leave for you👇🏻 If you’re brave enough, subscribe to my page and I’ll show you the deepest, darkest pleasures that you’ve never known.”

A video with a thumbnail was below the message. From what wasn’t censored, one could see his luscious red locks falling backwards as he hung his head back, face screwed shut in the throes of pleasure.

*Press Play?*

The focal point of the camera was blurred as the massive, redhaired beast of a man stepped away from the device, allowing it to focus on its subject and present him in the highest quality. He was wearing compressed underwear and nothing more. A pile of abandoned gym clothes kicked away in a bundle off to the side of the incline bench press he stood next to as he flexed for the camera. Bulging muscles on every inch of him as he twisted and turned, all the while sneering at the camera as if to say, don’t you wish you could crawl through the screen to touch me.

He pulled off the headband from his forehead and shook his sweat-slicked hair, little droplets of perspiration reflected off the lighting in the room. An indoor gym – it must have been a personal, in-home gym or the man truly gave no fucks who saw him as he proudly began stroking his hardening cock through the dark underwear.

Using thick, red painted fingers, he bobbed his large bulge until it strained against the fabric. His balls gently jiggled behind the underwear the more he played with his cock.

“Alright, I’ll stop fuckin with ya,” he spoke in a low, gravelly voice. “You came all this way for some dick, least I can do is show ya what you’re gonna be payin’ for. It’s worth it, you’ll see.”

A small pop-up with a reminder to subscribe to his account showed before disappearing again after two seconds.

Captain_CumShot pulled his underwear off and stepped closer to the camera. His cock was beautiful. Long and thick, adorned with veins running from base to just below his tip. Engorged head redder than the rest of his shaft, the light reflected off the bead of precum that was threatening to spill out of his slit. Neatly trimmed red hair, darker than the hair on his head framed his shaft.

“Like what you see? You ain’t seen nothing yet,” he growled through his sneer, putting his headband back on before spitting in his flesh hand, returning it to his cock.

Slow, teasing strokes up and down his member, his hips buckled slightly as he tightened his grip around the head. Using his thumb, he ran the digit around the swollen tip, smearing precum down the rest of his cock before using two fingers to gently pull his sack, letting out a low groan as he let his eyes close.

“I want you to imagine,” he rasped, “You’re against this bench. And I’m gonna fuck you raw on it,” he grinned.

Turning his body to the bench press, he stood with the seated section between his legs as he pressed his cock against the smooth, black backseat. Then he started grinding against it.

He gripped the top of the bench press with his metal prosthetic, propping his flesh hand behind his back to provide a better view of his inappropriate use of the gym equipment.

“Imagine my heavy cock sliding against your warm, wet center,” he teased, hips snapping sharply. “Hitting against your most sensitive areas, making you writhe and cream against me, all before I even stuff it inside,” he cackled.

He hung his head back and let out a moan, slowing his motions in exchange for short, lazy snaps. Pulling back just enough to let his cock bob freely, a line of precum clinging to his tip and the bench.

“Mmmm, I normally go for much longer but this is a so-called teaser to draw you in to subscribe. Keep that in mind when you think of me when you’re alone. Or maybe when you’re out in public, I like kinky sluts like that.”

Moving the camera stand closer to the bench press, Eustass Kid moved back to his starting position and pace on the equipment. He spit in his hand again and coated his cock before he slapped it against the material of the bench, putting all his body weight against his cock as he grinded against it once more. Shoulder muscles tightened under his alabaster skin as he used both arms to steady himself, the camera’s titled angle allowed for a delicious view of his panting face, his flexing muscles, and on his pulsing cock as he shamelessly rut on the bench. Moaning loudly as he brought himself closer.

“Wh-where, where would you want me, I wonder,” his long tongue between his grit teeth as he panted. “I know my loyal cabin hoes would let me finish inside,” he winked. “Ah ah! Fu-fuck!” escaped from him as he let out a few final thrusts.

The tip of his cock turned a dark shade of red as all his blood pooled. Twitching, he let out ropes of thick, gooey cum that smeared and ran down the angles incline. White streaks sliding down around his cock as he lazily thrusted as he rode out his orgasm.

“Hnnghh, fuck yeah,” he breathed. “That’s just the first round. I have a lot of stamina. Vids are short for upload reasons but if you want, long, torturous, and sinful content, make sure you subscribe to gain access to my live streams. You’ll be creaming your pants and begging me for more. Check out the tiers, the bonuses, and my wishlist. The more you thirsty whores pay me, the nastier I’ll get. See ya inside,” he winked again, blowing the camera a kiss as he slapped his cock against the bench press before a still frame of his prices took over the screen.

Captain_CumShot’s Main Menu:

Tier I – Deck Swabber – access to content 1 month prior to subscribing, access to videos and cumshot photo gallery.

Tier II – Sea Wenches – all treats in the first tier, plus access to professional pin-up photo gallery, access to content 2 months prior to subscribing, and access to live streams.

Tier III – Cabin Hoes – all treats in the first two tiers, plus sexting (messaging only), a lewd monthly calendar template, access to all published content prior to subscribing, and personally catered 60-second degradation videos.

Pay me or buy me shit off my wishlist and I’ll let you see my menu of forbidden treasures. More add-ons, services, treats, and surprises only for loyal hoes inside.

It lasted for 20 seconds before the video continued on for the last 15 seconds. The camera zoomed in on the cumshot on the bench press. A thick, white puddle pooled on the sitting section as it dripped from the risen back section. The camera showed off the streaks of viscous, opaque lines that ran down from the angled section from where his seed had initially hit. The camera’s view went back to the puddle, where a red nail dipped into the thick of it, dragging his essence downwards until the video ended.

Leave a like to tip OR hit the reblog button to subscribe.

Read on Wattpad | Read on AO3

#eustass kid #Captain_CumShot #onlyfans fanfic #firstmatesimp #one piece fanfiction #eustass kid smut #one piece eustass kid #ao3 author #wattpad author #eustasscaptainkid #kid pirates #swampstew stories #swampstew

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alm0ndla1t · 1 year

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༘⋆ - YOU’VE GOT MAIL.

༘⋆ FT :: xavier thorpe x fem!addams!reader

༘⋆ TW :: mentions of the word ‘dead’ once, angsty content (??). some lines from the show are used

༘⋆ SYNOPSIS :: you did your all to hide xavier’s parting gift from your family. who would’ve thought the object of your desire would become known to them so soon…

⊹ ⋆ﾟ꒰ఎ ♡ ໒꒱ ⋆ﾟ⊹

I get caught red handed as the foreign, high-pitched sound of a message notification fills in the pause of a family discussion during dinner. I freeze, accepting my fate as the center of attention as we sit in dead silence. I always liked my solitude and the quiet, let alone words and things beginning with ‘dead’, but this one was making me nauseous, and not in a good way. This is where it ends. What a drag. The taste of my favorite dish or my father’s neverending stories of his years at Nevermore could not have made it up to the void I felt inside of me.

I slide my right hand into my pocket slowly and imperceptibly, disabling the sound of my phone. I see a familiar contact name as my phone screen lights up. Xavier. Of course it has to be him. Oh the place and time. Brushing off the brim of emotions that overwhelms me, I take the knife and the fork back in my shaky hands and force out a few words of explanation that my parents deserve.

“My apologies, perhaps bringing a phone to a family function wasn’t the best idea. Will note for next time” I end up murmuring indistinctly with a fake smile, looking down at my plate in humiliation. My eyes then anxiously wander across the room, examining my family’s faces. Everyone is eyeing me back in utter confusion. That, however, doesn’t stop my mom from engaging into the conversation furthermore, as she puts the napkin back on her lap.

“Y/n, darling,” she said softly. “Would you mind explaining how you happen to possess the soul-sucking electronic device of meaningless affirmation in the first place?”

The question was expected and I should’ve came prepared - no one in the house knew about Xavier’s thoughtful gift to me, except for Wednesday, of course. The alien and humbling feeling of excitement, mixed with admiration, has overfilled me to the point where confessing to my sister on the spot was inevitable. The timing was especially right, as next came the unsettling messages from our stalker that we’re yet to decode.

“It was a parting gift from my friend when I left Nevermore for this winter break” I clarify blandly, making eye contact with my mother. My train of thought, which was more a contemplation of my eventful life anyway, was cut off by a voice at the end of the table.

“Does the friend in question happen to be the handsome young man from that one time at the Nightshade library?” Uncle Fester asks frisky and somewhat mockingly, stuffing his mouth with salad.

I am in the beam of spotlight once again as the family is left on a cliffhanger. Hurts to admit, I overreacted. This is where it ends. My ego are pride are shattered in a million pieces. Who knew that the terrible loss of a subjective self-identity of a heartless, disastrous hellbound teenage girl would come so soon.

Hastily picking up the food on my plate with a fork, I utter the following in a grumbly indistinct manner, trying hard not to blush. “Yes, it was him.”

My parents meet each others gazes as they smile. They let me rest from the discussion for half a minute, murmuring sweet nothings to one another, and just when I begin to think my blaze of glory is finally over, my mom picks the conversation up again.

“So, mind telling us more about it? What is his name?”

“Xavier Thorpe.” Wednesday shot back before I was even able to respond. Perhaps the complete disgust of the ongoing discussion has pushed her to my rescue, hoping to end this nightmare as soon as possible.

My mother hums in approval and continues the love interest trivia, raising her brow. “He’s Vincent Thorpe’s son, isn’t he?”

“Wait, what?!” Pugsley says at the edge of his seat, excited from overhearing his favorite psychic’s name.

“Yes, yes he is. I am not sure as of where me and Xavier stand and I would appreciate it if you give me some time before we talk about this again” I let out a sigh as I finally say what’s been on my mind. “For now, excuse me, I have to go. Thank you for a wonderful meal.”

I get up and make my way upstairs, to find some peace and quiet in my bedroom. Laying on my back and staring at the ceiling in complete despair, I pull out the phone from my pocket after some time, checking the messages.

“Hey! I was thinking of asking you out for coffee, how does that sound?”

I am doomed. So doomed.

#xavier thorpe #xavier thrope fanfic #xavier x y/n #xavier x reader #xavier thorpe x reader #xavier thorpe x y/n #xavier thorpe x you #addams!reader #addams reader #xavier thorpe x addams!reader #wednesday #wednesday fanfic #xavier thorpe hcs #xavier thorpe headcannons #xavier thorpe imagine

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dlstmxkakwldrlarchive · 11 months

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SHINee show their love through their 8th full-length album HARD.

[...] SHINee's new song "JUICE" is a high-tempo hip-hop dance song centered on energetic rap, a bass line that leaves a strong impression, and brass sound.The lyrics contain a message that shows you falling deeply in love with someone who enjoys their life and that you should live every moment of your life worthwhile with confidence.

"Satellite," is an electronic pop song that compares a situation where you can't get close to your lover to a satellite, with dreamy claves and flux synths leading the overall song and a strange mood between major and minor compositions.

"Like It" is a dance pop song featuring a synth theme line that repeatedly appears on a cheerful beat, and its rhythmical vocal line and falsetto chorus pad added charm to the song.

#230613 #shinee #shinee the 8th full album hard #hard era #ot5 #onew #key #minho #taemin #daily update #articles #hard songs description #satellite #like it #juice #trans

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aacesignco · 9 days

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Enhancing Your Business's Aesthetic: Exploring Typical Architectural Signs

Architectural signs are a vital component of any business's exterior. They not only serve as markers but also contribute significantly to the overall aesthetic appeal of a building. From welcoming customers to reinforcing branding, architectural signs play a crucial role in creating a memorable and inviting environment. In this blog post, we'll delve into the world of typical architectural signs, exploring their various types, functions, and benefits.

Definition of Architectural Signs: Architectural signs are permanent, visually appealing elements that blend seamlessly with a building's architecture. They are designed to complement the structure while conveying important information or branding messages.

Types of Architectural Signs:

Monument Signs: These large, freestanding signs are placed at ground level near entrances. Monument signs typically feature the business name, logo, and sometimes directional information.

Building-Mounted Signs: Attached directly to the building's facade, these signs are often placed above entrances or windows. They can include channel letters, dimensional letters, or plaques.

Pylon Signs: Tall, freestanding signs often located near roadways or highways. Pylon signs are highly visible and can display multiple business names or logos.

Wayfinding Signs: These signs provide directional guidance, helping visitors navigate around a property or complex. They include directories, arrows, and maps.

Blade Signs: Mounted perpendicular to the building, blade signs jut out from the facade, making them visible to pedestrians walking along sidewalks.

Channel Letters: 3D letters or logos individually mounted to the building's facade, often illuminated for enhanced visibility.

Plaques and Panels: These signs are typically made of metal, wood, or acrylic and display important information such as building names, addresses, or historical details.

Functions of Architectural Signs:

Brand Identification: Architectural signs prominently display the business's name, logo, and branding elements, reinforcing brand identity.

Wayfinding and Direction: They guide customers and visitors to the correct entrances, parking areas, or specific locations within a property.

Curb Appeal: Architectural signs enhance the visual appeal of a building, creating a positive first impression for customers and passersby.

Informational Purposes: They convey essential information such as business hours, contact details, or special promotions.

Legal Compliance: Architectural signs often need to comply with local zoning regulations and signage ordinances, ensuring they meet legal requirements.

Benefits of Architectural Signs:

Visibility: Architectural signs increase the visibility of a business, attracting the attention of potential customers.

Brand Recognition: Consistent branding across architectural signs reinforces brand recognition and strengthens brand identity.

Professionalism: Well-designed architectural signs convey professionalism and establish credibility in the eyes of customers.

Differentiation: Unique and eye-catching Typical architectural signs set businesses apart from competitors and make them memorable. Longevity: Made from durable materials, architectural signs are long-lasting investments that provide value over time.

Conclusion: Typical architectural signs are more than just markers; they are integral elements that contribute to a business's identity and aesthetics. From monument signs to channel letters, these signs serve various functions and offer numerous benefits, including increased visibility, brand recognition, and professionalism. By investing in well-designed and strategically placed architectural signs, businesses can enhance their exterior appeal, attract more customers, and create a lasting impression that sets them apart in today's competitive market. For more details visit our website www.a-acesignco.com

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pipzeroes · 6 months

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ALL YOUR BREATH ARE BELONG TO US.

This whole thing is based on the All Your Base Are Belong To Us meme. The warning at the beginning is because a.) the music is a subgenre of hardcore techno known as gabber and kind of loud, in case you are unfamiliar with this kind of EDM and/or the song in the original video, and, b.) concerns such as photosensitive epilepsy (at one point, 16 images appear in just under four seconds).

More background beneath cut.

(Writeup also posted on dreamwidth and post about video also shared on zeroes; video on Vimeo and on YouTube as well.)

A rundown on the content of the vid:

The images of the wolf are from the seventh episode of the fourth episode of The Simpsons, Marge Gets a Job; it is a wolf startled by LOUD NOISES. Then it's Cats from Zero Wing (the video game central to the All Your Base Are Belong To Us meme) with a SARS-CoV-2 virion for a face. And the poster for the 2017 film The Shape of Water (see also on zeroes). Then it's the webcomic Dinosaur Comics! (Thanks, Ryan!) Next a reference to the slipcase for White Town (Jyoti Mishra)'s Your Woman. (Just added a mask to the picture of the cat with the thumbs up; I am afraid I am unaware of the origin of the original cat meme...) Then it's the first page of All's Well, that Ends Well from the First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, published in 1623. And then the scene from the 2022 film Glass Onion when Lionel Toussaint holds up a faxed message from Miles Bron: "Uber for Biospheres". Next, a reference blog/webcomic Hyperbole and a Half and a panel for one comic where the author portrays an initial manic enthusiasm when cleaning up: "CLEAN ALL THE THINGS".

The original Doge photo. (See also: DOGE on tumblr, DOGE on zeroes.)

And The Quest of the Virosols!!! I really appreciate these graphics. (Please note, I am not affiliated with the Aerosol Science Research Center, I am publicly disseminating useful information for educational purposes; All Your Breath Are Belong To Us is a PSA <3)

The record is based on Otis Rush's "All Your Love" and "COVID" was "Cobra" (see also: some images used to construct).

The Sudden Clarity Clarence meme!

An animation of a diaphragm exhaling and inhaling (with the little purple virosols added!)

And then False Knees Comic 296! (Thanks, Joshua!) (I am once again reminding you that I am not affiliated with the Aerosol Science Research Center.)

And the next six images are the only memes I've not made in this vid (and the person who added the masks to pictures of these images has approved the use of them in this video; thank you!)

Fruit by Alphonse Mucha (Source.)

Le Désespéré by Gustave Courbet (Source.)

Autoportrait by Tamara de Lempicka (Source.)

Trop tôt by James Tissot (Source.)

Autorretrato con Collar de Espinas by Frida Kahlo (Source.)

A photo of the models for Grant Wood's American Gothic standing beside the painting itself. (Source.)

Then the poster for the 1994 film The Mask. (See also on zeroes.) Next a scene from Datalore, the thirteenth episode of the first season of Star Trek: The Next Generation.

And a reference to a version of the album cover for Vangelis' 1985 album Mask. (See also: Vangelis' Mask (1985) is not to be confused with Vangelis' mask (Ninjago), which is a face cover worn by King Vangelis of the Kingdom of Shintaro (for like, a moment [while trying to find info about the album cover], I thought the Greek composer and arranger of electronic, progressive, ambient, and classical orchestral music had an alter ego known as the Skull Sorcerer, but apparently not). [mirror on zeroes])

Aaaaand the Original Goncharov shoe!!! (See also.) Then the 1984 film Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind [風の谷のナウシカ "kaze no tani no naushika"]; the character Nausicaä wears this mask in the original film. Next, an image of a number of risks, originally published by the CDC.

Steamed Hams. (See also: ...and you call for "cleaned hands" despite the fact COVID is obviously airborne... [mirror on zeroes])

(I am once again reminding you that I am not affiliated with the Aerosol Science Research Center.)

GEORDI LA FORGE! (See also: Hand washing as but one component of a "Swiss cheese model" composed of preventative measures including personal actions [such as wearing a well-fitting mask, physical distancing, avoiding crowds, and "staying home when sick"], as well as public measures [such as standards for ventilation and air filtration of indoor spaces, effective messaging on disease prevention, and reliable support for those needing to "stay home sick"], mitigations which, when used in combination, significantly reduce the spread of airborne disease.)

WEDNESDAY FROG MEME! (See also: It is Airborne, my dudes. [mirror on zeroes])

S'CHN T'GAI SPOCK! (See also: logic clearly dictates that SARS-CoV-2 spreads via infected breath [and can remain suspended in the air, travelling inside tiny specs of moisture, floating like smoke or mist]; therefore, COVID is airborne; mask up, live long, and prosper [mirror on zeroes])

The woman yelling at a cat meme.

The Is This a Pigeon? meme. (See also: "Droplets" are basically spittle, falling to the ground not far from the source [the infected person's mouth]. "Aerosols" are pretty much breath, tiny particles of infectious virus-containing-moisture that can remain suspended in the air [able to float distances greater than a metre]. [mirror on zeroes])

Darmok and Jalad at 2 metres! (See also: 2 metres physical distance helps you to avoid droplets [infected spittle] but "COVID is airborne" and floats like cigarette smoke, so even 2 metres still means a risk of airborne transmission [from infected breath]. Like Tanagra, 2 metres from a potential source of infection is still a place of potential danger. [mirror on zeroes])

Napoleon Dynamite (the shirt with "COVID IS AIRBORNE" originally says "VOTE FOR PEDRO"). (See also: I spent last summer making Corsi-Rosenthal Box filters, like, fifty of 'em! The SARS-CoV-2 floating in the air kept trying to attack my cousins, what the heck would you do in a situation like that? [mirror on zeroes])

Pokemon! (See also: if COVID aerosols/breath builds up somewhere indoors that isn't well ventilated, and the air is not filtered well enough, you may get sick even after an infected person has left the room. [mirror on zeroes])

AVATAR. (And yes, the font used for "AIRBORNE" is Papyrus.) (I am once again asking you to remember that I am not affiliated with the Aerosol Science Research Center.)

GONCHAROV!!! GONCHAROV!!! (Thanks Beelz!) (See also: Written by Mattwo JWHJ 0715. [mirror on zeroes])

The Always has been meme. (See also: Aerosols/breath (tiny bits of infected moisture) can remain suspended in the air and are able to float distances greater than a metre. [mirror on zeroes])

(I am once again asking you to remember that I am not affiliated with the Aerosol Science Research Center.) Aside from the images which just are what the are (e.g. the CDC infographic, the ASRC graphics), and the six images related to paintings, all memes were put together by yours truly. <3 The song was, originally, "Invasion of the Gabber Robots" by the Laziest Men on Mars, which sampled music created by Tatsuya Uemura and Noriyuki Iwadare.

Re-writing of lyrics, and the audio and video editing, were also my doing; REAPER for the audio editing, GNU Image Manipulation Program for the meme making, Shotcut for the video editing.

🖖

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cyberpunkonline · 11 months

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Anyone who grew up in the 1990s and was part of the Internet as it grew will recognise one or all of these and probably have been involved in all of them.

The 1990s witnessed the emergence of several distinct subcultures, each with its own digital presence on the early internet. These subcultures embraced various aspects of technology, shaping their identities and interactions online. Let's explore some of the prominent subcultures of the 1990s and their relationship with technology:

Cyberpunk: The cyberpunk subculture was heavily influenced by science fiction and dystopian themes. It embraced the idea of a high-tech, low-life society. Online forums and early internet communities provided cyberpunks with platforms to discuss cybernetics, virtual reality, hacking, and the impact of technology on society. While the subculture itself did not die out, its influence gradually merged with broader science fiction and hacker communities.

Rave and Electronic Music: The rave subculture gained significant popularity during the 1990s, with a focus on electronic music, dance, and a sense of unity. The internet allowed ravers to share information about upcoming events, DJs, and music releases. Online message boards and chat rooms facilitated the exchange of mixtapes and the creation of virtual communities centered around the rave scene. As the decade progressed, the rave subculture evolved and diversified, giving rise to various electronic music genres and festival culture.

Grunge: The grunge subculture emerged from the alternative rock scene, characterized by a rejection of mainstream culture and an embrace of a DIY ethos. While the early internet played a relatively minor role in the grunge movement, alternative music websites and forums provided spaces for fans to discuss bands, share bootlegs, and connect with like-minded individuals. The grunge subculture waned in the late 1990s following the death of prominent musicians and a shift in popular music trends.

Goth: The goth subculture found a strong presence on the early internet, where it thrived in online communities and bulletin boards. Goths used technology to connect with others who shared an interest in dark aesthetics, music, literature, and fashion. The internet allowed goths to transcend geographical boundaries and form international networks, fostering a sense of belonging. While the goth subculture did not entirely die out, its prominence and visibility diminished in the 2000s.

Skater and Surfer: Skater and surfer subcultures, while distinct, often overlapped and shared similar attitudes and interests. While these subcultures were more rooted in physical activities, the early internet provided a means for skaters and surfers to connect and share videos, photos, and tips. Online skateboarding and surfing communities allowed enthusiasts to discuss techniques, equipment, and upcoming events. These subcultures continue to thrive today, both online and offline.

It's important to note that subcultures are dynamic, and their influence often transcends specific time periods. While some subcultures experienced a decline in visibility, their influence can still be seen in subsequent cultural movements and niche communities. Additionally, as the digital landscape evolved, new subcultures emerged, creating spaces for individuals who may have felt culturally displaced after the decline of previous movements

#cyberpunk #1990s #90s #rave #goth #tech #internet

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vgperson · 1 year

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Vocaloid Highlights: January 2023

What do you mean I can't get ye FRSC? This game is nonsense. * Be warned that the end of Stepped on the Cat. gets rather intense and noisy, with flashing images. Highlights Archive

========== Stand-Outs ========== Undone Scarlet (Not) a Devil Bad Girl A (Word to Girl A) Kamaboko ka Mahoro ka Makoto ka? Kabooooom! Stepped on the Cat. * M.I.A. Worrywart Mother Daze Dandelion Float Play THUNDERBOLT Destroy Nonsense Game Starry Sky Orchestra Story Turned Transparent Blue Sakura Happiness Morning Devil's Devil Lost Paradise Dive Flower-Calling Voice Downtime FRSC (Flask) Flyway Nameless Revolution

========== Worth Your Time ========== Message of Reflection Psi Fragments Canary 20,000 Lives New Year's Survival New Dawn Dyed in Music Overclock (Midnight ver.) 1/366 Goodbye, Moon. Love, Me Relay Whittle, so close,yet so far Shigetaka Kur*ta is Watching From the Window -LONG VER- Mailbox Cold Lamplight Weak Weak Weak Weak missClumsy Brilliance Mister Phantom Beat Good Luck Charm Night Song Gold Under Heaven Toy Box Universe Monster Peace Peace Peace Unenlightened Fuzzy If Eternity Ends Tomorrow Easy Waver Electronic Game I Mean, You Have a Boyfriend, Right? Omertà Calcite About Ordinary Days Heterogenous Primrose Noisy Sheep White Clover Lily Song Secret Side Paraiso Novemdecillion Universe Clear Bright According to Angels Idiocium Faceless AVOCADO Fickle Affection Eternity, No Such Thing Back Alley Underdog Rococo Wanna Be Weird Neon Tetra Dynasty Falling Moral Collapse The Dream Parade Never Ends Hoi-yo-ho Toxic Queen Oceanlight Town We're Coelacanths Nonsense Melancholy Wanna-Sleep Girl Impolite Even If You Die, I'll Forgive You Goodbye, Neverland Thunder I Won't Let Go Inner Color Ugly Necro Don't Tell Lies. Trendkiller Mimika (long ver.) Eccentric (ALLEN Version) Okami Princess Meteorite Applause Girl and Unicorn Answer Mystery Correct World Eternity Maker My Dentist May Light Pour Down Upon You Romanesque Sweet Room Poetry is Like Your Pulse Amber Eli Lema Gallant Shot Eternal Aria That Vanished Girl Was 1000 Days Ago Stargazer Filter Bubble Who are Call Center

#vocaloid #vocaloid highlights

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fleckcmscott · 2 months

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Hearth and Home

Summary: During Christmas in Missouri, Arthur learns - and Y/N relearns - how to celebrate with family.

Words: 6,525

Warnings: None

A/N: This little piece is based on a request from @jokerownsmysoul, as well as a continuation of Haunted Heart. Please enjoy this very tardy holiday story! 😂 Thank you to @jokerownsmysoulfor not only making the request, but also beta-ing the first draft. Much appreciation to @sweet-nothings04and @forever-fleck for helping with the intro pic! 💜

If you have any thoughts or questions, please comment, feel free to message me, or send me an ask. Requests for Arthur and WWH are open!

Christmastide hadn't yet crept into Gobler Mall, but it'd slid halfway through the door and propped it open.

A cardboard sleigh advertised Santa's imminent arrival. Kiosks selling Dead Sea Salt body scrubs and smoked cheeses were buried in unopened boxes of merchandise. A man in a green janitor's uniform hung honeycomb snowflakes from the center atrium, his ladder buttressed against the second story's balcony wall.

The anchor store in the east wing had outraced its competitors to win the gold. A twenty-foot tree stood in the center of Hecht's Fineries, plastic branches reaching out to entice customers past cosmetics to a world of sporting goods, toys, and electronics.

Y/N pushed a shopping cart through Today's Woman, the fashion department situated between cookware and shoes. Right on her heels, Arthur browsed with the exuberance of a boy who knew exactly what to write on his Christmas list. Adorable, yes. Contagious and delightful? Certainly. The magic of the season permeated the air whenever he was near.

But if he didn't lose her trail soon, surprising him would be impossible.

They'd brought a small selection of gifts from Gotham. Curry pastes from Siam Market and a Glob's Gourmet Pickles sampler (which had, thankfully, remained intact during their flight). But with limited luggage space, they'd settled on buying most here. A quilted jewelry box appeared a good fit for Ruthie, and with Jason pretending he'd grown out of comic books, they'd chosen a leather baseball glove for him. That left a Mr. Wizard Ecology Kit for Brian and a set of Read-A-Long books on tape for Ashley.

Now they had to settle on what to get Mabel and Ed. And each other.

"I dunno what she likes," Arthur told Y/N, flipping through a circular rack of blouses. Hangers squealed along a metal rod, an atonal chorus. "She dresses more casually than you, but she still looks nice." A one shoulder shrug concluded the observation.

Y/N leaned onto the cart's handle. "A good rule to go by is, if I'd hate it, she'd love it. Wait, that might work." She raised her hand to stop the search. He held out a horizontally striped pullover, black and confident pink illuminated by metallic threads.

A sharp nod answered his knotted brow. "It's definitely her."

As they made their way to the register, a row of mannequin busts caught his gaze. Decked out in festive finery, they wore sweaters thick enough to warm the skinniest soul. He strolled the length of the display, hands clasped at the small of his back, mocha curls brushing his shoulders. He stopped at a crewneck two-thirds of the way down.

Flocked plus signs spanned the shoulders and chest, like a blanket of light snow. Alternating patterns of stars and deer came next, followed by a swathe of rich maroon, the same color as his suit. An odd design, to be sure, but fashionable. The trendiest thing ever to have a chance at moving into Arthur's closet.

When his thin lips pursed, she sidled next to him. Shopping for others didn't mean he couldn't consider himself. "You'd look gorgeous in that," she said.

A smile crinkled the corners of his eyes. "Really?"

"Really." She reached for it with a seductive slowness. "Should we get it now or wait for Santa?"

On a hitched laugh, he stole it from her fingertips and got in line.

~~~~~

Carrying a tray of Morrison's Cafeteria broiled chicken, yellow rice, and two diet cokes, Mabel zigzagged through grey tables to a four-top on the periphery of the food court, where Y/N guarded Radio Shack and Sears bags with the promise not to peek. Though not much of a splurger, she was surprisingly fun to shop with. Admiring window displays, suggesting gifts for Ed and Arthur. Mabel had needed that quality time, another chance to be Big and Little Sis.

Ever a rocket about to lift off, Ashley bounced on a stack chair beside Y/N. The other three children were in school, busy learning their ABCs. Sun cascaded through skylights, brought out honey blonde streaks in the toddler's hair. Y/N took a blue crayon from a RoseArt three-pack and pointed to a spot on a paper placement, an instruction to make the first move in a tic-tac-toe game. In a fit of giggles, the girl clapped and drew an X over the entire grid.

A mix of joy and pensiveness twisted Mabel's heart.

Fed by losing her mom at twenty-four, she braced against the possibility of not being there. New milestones brought happiness - but they also reminded her she'd be fifty when her youngest was a freshman in high school. Nights of four-hour naps and days filled with play and homework took a lot more out of her than motherhood had a decade ago. There were moments exhaustion seeped so deeply into her bones she could've slept standing up.

Once Ashley was sent to a coin-operated carousel ride a couple yards away, Mabel confided to Y/N. "Don't get me wrong. I'd do anything for them. I just thought they'd all be in school by now." She rolled straw paper between thumb and forefinger. "Mom never seemed to get tired. But chasing Ashley around, I feel like I'm ready for the retirement home."

"She has parents who are older and wiser. Who know when they were too strict with the others and not strict enough. Isn't that a good thing?" Y/N tore a final piece of chicken off the bone and touched her toes to Mabel's. "You want to be mom. But you can't be. No one could. Just be yourself. You've always been more than enough, Able Mabel."

Blinking moisture from her eyes, Mabel dipped her chin. Was it middle-aged that'd mellowed Y/N, made her better at comfort rather than immediate investigation? Or had Arthur nurtured her heart by giving it a place to rest? Whatever the cause, it was a welcome change.

With the success of her second marriage, however, maybe she could solve a little, too.

Mabel pushed abandoned grains of rice with her spoon. "I had been looking forward to having more time with Ed."

"Has he gone back to working around the clock?"

"No, no. He's home for dinner every night. But with school projects and potty training and story hour and baseball practice and scouting... Sometimes I forget what it's like to be a wife." A sip of coke as she checked on Ashley. The girl continued to ride in circles. "You love being a wife," Mabel continued. "What's the longest you and Arthur have gone without...you know."

Y/N dabbed at her mouth with the corner of her napkin. After a moment, she gave a small shrug. "A month or two?"

Mabel's jaw hung open. "That's it?" It'd been nearly six for she and Ed. Their last attempt had been cut short by Ruthie's knock on their bedroom door to ask for water - just as her underwire had been unhooked. They'd left a glass on her nightstand every night thereafter. But the spark continued to elude.

"Our lives are quieter," Y/N said, waving the unspoken comparison away. "And you've been married, what, eighteen years? That's much longer than four. Have you talked about this at all with Ed?"

A resigned sigh heaved out of Mabel. "Whenever I start, something comes up."

"It doesn't have to be a long, drawn-out trial. Maybe you can suggest listening to Dr. Sally. Have you heard of her? She's from Gotham and Arthur swears by her. He says she taught him everything he knows. Well, everything he knew before we..." Crimson colored her cheeks, her lips pressed together in a pensive grin. "I don't know if I should tell you, but- Can you keep a secret?"

Mabel grasped the bottom of her chair and hopped it forward. "I love secrets."

"When he and I met, he hadn't been with a woman before. Not like that, anyway."

Nose wrinkled, Mabel tilted her head, her entire face squinting. No, Arthur wasn't her type. But she knew a good man when she met one. And a good looking man when she saw one. "How is that possible?"

Y/N snorted, loud enough to muffle it with the back of her hand. "That was my reaction. It was a lot of pressure; I don't think Arthur realizes that. But I wanted him and loved him and that won out.

"I asked him once if he felt like he'd missed out on anything, having only been with me. He said no, because he's comfortable with me and knows I care about him. Anyway, he gave Dr. Sally full credit for being wonderful. I'm sure the show is syndicated down here."

The twinkle of romance and true love in her sister's eye left Mabel fully convinced. She picked up a crayon and folded the placemat in half. "I'll call the local radio stations."

~~~~~

Meanwhile, Ed and Arthur rode the escalator to the mall's second story. For Ed, it was the only escalator in the county. For Arthur, it was simply a way to get upstairs.

He trailed his brother-in-law past a soap and scented candle shop, an avalanche of perfume pouring out of the place. A silver engraving shop stood to their left, hawking the likes of picture frames, wedding cake serving sets, and doorknobs. They dodged a group of teenagers who should've been in school to arrive at a glass storefront tucked into the corner.

City Drawers' cursive sign was a thrill in pink neon. Muzak masquerading as jazz sounded through the open entrance. Two mannequins stood in the shop's windows, illuminated by spotlights at their feet. One wore a lace bra and panty set, the other a diaphanous camisole with a cowl neck. A hanging sign announced a sale on Maidenform: Buy one, Get one half off.

Arthur chewed his thumbnail.

Donahue's and L. Ballinger carried styles both he and Y/N liked, without intimidating buckles or oddly placed straps. Specialty shops were expensive. Though he'd happily picture her in every display, going to a boutique bordering on Adults Only made shopping an event he had the wrong ticket to, purchased for a week-old show.

With a casualness Arthur envied, Ed crossed the black tile threshold, stealing Arthur's chance to back away and backtrack to Hecht's.

Forcing out a breath, he shoved his hands in his pockets. Made the decision to get over himself and stepped into the welcoming peach interior.

Low lighting gave the shop an air of intrigue, flattered the stitching, the promised silhouette of each item. A woman and high school student discussed the finer points of choosing a first bra. ("You don't want it to stick out too much under your sweaters." "Mom!") Cheeks on fire, he turned away from the conversation meant for mothers and daughters to see a husband and wife modeling satin robes. A cashier dressed like a consummate professional, as if she belonged in Y/N's office, told a woman in a puffy coat that underwear was returnable only if unopened.

Ed closed in on a Christmas display to the left, where a scantily clad mannequin wore a Mrs. Claus mob hat. He grabbed a Santa red negligee and gave it a once over. "Think Mabel'd like this?" he asked, thrusting it towards Arthur.

One glance at the faux fur trimmed neckline and it was clear Y/N would hate it. "She'd love it."

Relief palpable in his easy smile, Ed nodded his thanks and headed to the Famous Fragrances cabinet at the rear of the shop.

Arthur slinked along the wall, passing feather boas and garter belts. (The black one with pale pink roses on the hips was an omen to follow when they returned to Gotham City.) A man on the hunt for a gift that wouldn't be embarrassing to give his wife in front of her family. In front of her nephews and nieces.

Forgotten on a bottom shelf under dust and elbow length gloves, he found his trophy.

Knee high wool socks, lilac and knit in a pointelle pattern akin to lace. He took the pair in his grasp, ran his fingertips from cuff to toe. Every past piece of thrift store wool had been a scouring pad on his skin. These were smooth, buttery. He could imagine her calves wrapped up in these subtle cousins to stockings, a long-awaited present under the tree.

A lyric came to mind, an old song he'd gone too long without hearing. Humming a few bars, he sang in his head. You're the starch in my collar, you're the lace in my shoe...

Arthur hurried to the register, but turned back at the last second and stuck the garter belt under his arm.

He placed the socks on the counter, indicated them with his chin. "Can you put those in a box? With a ribbon on it?" He slid the garter across the surface and leaned forward. "And could you please wrap this separately?"

~~~~~

Snug in the tub, Y/N's eyelids fell shut as she massaged almond shampoo into her scalp. The circling slowed as she exhaled contentment. After cramming two major holidays and the preparations for a third into a mere nine days, she'd savor this second to relax.

The notion twisted the corner of her mouth, a crescent of irony.

That she'd be able to relax here at all would've been laughable before, when shadows had lurked in every corner and out in the open to confront her with what she'd lost. Arthur's compassion and Mabel's letting the subject of their parents alone now allowed Y/N to cope on her own terms.

The adjoining guestroom wasn't simply her father's former office, where she'd been forced to accept the gravity of Henry's diagnosis. It was also a bedroom where she could rest at the end of the day. The bathroom was more than an old examination room, forest green and warm, where her father had crowned his four-year-old daughter with a head mirror and tested her reflexes. It was a place unwind. To cleanse her skin and her heart. Twin threads of past and present that entwined themselves into a semblance of peace.

Locks rinsed and detangled, she swiped her hair back and reached for her wet-dry electric razor.

A light tap tap rapped at the door.

She'd recognize her husband's Excuse Me knock anywhere. But with a full house, doublechecking was safer. "Who is it?"

"It's Arthur."

At her instant invitation, he slid through the door. He'd donned his maroon sweater - as he had every day since she'd told him he'd look gorgeous in it.

She'd been right.

He tucked a stray curl behind his ear and turned towards the toilet. "Sorry, the other bathroom's busy. I'll be quick." He lifted the cover and seat and unzipped his trousers.

Razor perpendicular to her shin, she started to drag it in a straight line to her knee.

It sputtered like an old engine, gaining and losing speed in an attempt to complete its mission. She hit the bottom with the heel of her hand. Flipped the switch off and back on. A pathetic whirr, which slowed to a worrying grind. Then a final, sad stop.

With a huff, she set it on the tub's corner shelf. "I should've charged this before we left."

He shook himself off, cocked his head her way. "Maybe Mabel has one? I can go check."

"You don't have to bother."

Arthur waved her off, insisted it wasn't one at all. He rinsed his hands and stepped out. Grin tight enough to pinch, she scrubbed at her armpits and breasts. Noted a hair by her aerola she'd have to pluck later. The washcloth slid across her stomach, the feminine swell of her abdomen. A quick dip between her legs.

The door swung ajar. Extending his palm with a flourish, Arthur beamed down at her.

Eyes wide, the entirety of her attention shot to the Pink Daisy Gillette.

She hadn't used a wet razor for five years, had banished them from the apartment as soon as he'd agreed to move in. Since he'd asked her to keep them away from him. Sure, if a matter was important, she was a risk taker. Being stubble free for one extra day didn't make the cut.

Y/N reached to take it from him. A bit too fast. "Thank you."

"Actually, I-" He held the forbidden object in front of his chest, twirled it between anxious fingers. "I'd like to do it."

She drew her feet inward. Concern felt silly, an unwelcome heckler. A true intrusion on their intimacy. But given Arthur's history, it made sense. And Dr. Ludlow had agreed keeping razor blades out of the apartment was a good idea.

As if able to read her thoughts, he winced at the floor, a move that felt too close to shame. He spoke with the wounded dignity of the earnest yet disbelieved. "I've been okay for a long time now."

An ache pressed her sternum, for she did indeed believe him. He'd trusted her two years ago, had taken the good with the very, very bad. Shouldn't she be able to trust him? Refrain from making a normal activity - a loving gesture he'd asked for - a crossroads to crisis?

She pushed the worries from her throat with an ahem. "You're right. I'm sorry."

His handsome visage instantly brightened.

Loosening her legs, she wrung out her washcloth. "You're going to get all wet."

"I'll dry."

"What about your pants?"

"They come off."

It was said without guile, but she chuckled, anyway. She retrieved the soap. Worked up a good lather. Smoothed suds down her left leg.

His teeth pressed his lower lip in an eager grin. Perching on the rim of the tub, he pushed his sleeves to his elbows. Bent to pluck her towel from the floor and cover his lap. A secure hold on her heel as he pulled her into position.

Gently, he laid the blade a centimeter below her knee and drew it towards him. A glance of a touch.

"A little harder," she said. "Leg hair is stubborn."

"I don't wanna hurt you."

"You won't." She lay in the curved end of the tub. "How old were you when you started to shave?"

"Fourteen, I think." A soft, closed-mouth laugh. "One night, when Penny and her boyfriend were gone? I stole his razor and shaving cream. I must've used half the can." Short scrapes at the front of Y/N's ankle. "I pressed so hard to get through all the foam, I got a burn. It hurt so bad. My mother asked what was wrong with my face. I told her I'd been out in the sun too long - in February."

Giggling, Y/N tossed her head back. "I'm sure you were very convincing. Speaking of which: I have to convince Mabel to tone it down for Christmas."

"Isn't that why she invited us down here?"

"Yes, but she's going to cook herself to death." At Thanksgiving, Y/N hadn't been able to see the table for all the food. What with their household being too small for a full spread, she and Arthur stuck to a chicken or a couple of turkey breasts. "She likes to make a big dinner for Christmas Eve and a breakfast buffet in the morning."

The tip of his tongue darted out to wet his lips. "We could make dinner and breakfast."

Y/N gulped against unbidden images floating to the surface. She hadn't cooked a holiday meal here for eight years, and the last had been an exercise in heartbreak. Mashed up food, saliva on cotton, fear pretending to be revulsion on the faces of her family. Benji's Very Own Christmas Story on TV to tide keep her father calm and an entire bottle of Sanatogen to calm herself.

Yet, the idea was lovely, a reflection of her husband's generosity and kindness. Putting her baggage on him would be ungenerous and unkind. And, just maybe, it could be an opportunity she wouldn't have taken on her own.

She studied the ripples in the water. Concentrated on the pressure of his fingertips on her skin. Glides of metal and aloe. "Stroganoff?"

"That's special for us." Arthur squeezed the subtle half-moon of her calf.

Fuzzy fluttering fleeted through her, at the squeeze and the us. They decided on glazed ham, a dish her mother had made every year. Y/N made a mental note to peruse the oldBetter Homes & Gardens cookbook, the checkered one with the side pocket. "We can make garlic mashed potatoes, too. If we double the recipe, it'll be enough for eight." Broccoli and cheese casserole would serve as a second side, of which Arthur would claim all the crispy corners. Stuffing out of three boxes. All that was left was dessert.

He shook the razor in the bathwater. "Gingerbread's good."

"I'll add a can of whipped cream to the grocery list."

Pecking the arch of her foot, he scooted along the tub's rim. Angled her leg so that her thigh rested on his. The razor whispered a line within an inch of her groin. Puffs of her breath skimmed her flesh. Her tendons tightened. Her knee jerked against his touch.

He knelt beside the tub to gather water in his hands. Slipped them down her legs. He rinsed her again, his expression melting into satisfaction. "You're beautiful," he said, palm sliding to her hip. His green gaze dropped to her mouth, his caress now a firm grip.

Then his lips seized hers.

A startled gasp jolted her.

What Arthur had just done was romantic. Wonderful. An act out of a shared fantasy. If they'd been anywhere else, a delicious weight would've warmed her belly. But that old forest green seeped in at the edges of her mind's eye, pulled the thread of past askew. Now that weight felt like a bowling ball.

She broke off the kiss. Embarrassed whispers between bottled breaths. "Arthur, I-" Her fingers curled, a loose fist by his cheek. "I can't. Not here."

Drops fell from his wrist to her sternum. Charted paths to the notch at the base of her throat. Silence weighed down on her, a whole league's worth of bowling balls.

Swallowing, she raised her eyes to meet his.

When they did, understanding softened his brow. His voice was low, soft. A comfort as powerful as present thread. "It's okay." He retreated to sit on his heels and dry his hands, chestnut waves falling to frame his sculpted cheeks. He stood and bent to peck the top of her head. "You better do that other leg yourself." With that, he turned to leave.

She scrambled to sit up. "Arthur?"

Hand on the doorknob, he looked back at her.

"I love you," she said.

Dimples deepening, he bestowed a shy, radiant smile. "I know."

~~~~~

Mabel placed the Santa mug with the candy cane handle on the windowsill to finish trimming the tree. It was situated by the front window, about a yard from the guestroom. Ed and Jason had disappeared to the basement to search for decorations. One of Ruthie's favorite records played, John Denver and the Muppets' A Christmas Together.

Arthur knelt beside Mabel. On the opposite side of the living room, Y/N and the three youngest children worked on paper snowflakes in the play corner. Few words had passed between them, but the quiet was the kind that belonged to old marrieds who were confident in their choice of each other. Irritated, in love, invested. There'd be no running to the watering hole today.

Nevertheless, Mabel sought to gladden the place. Trimming the tree was one of her favorite rituals, right up there with reading The Night Before Christmas and stuffing stockings. There was no way she'd allow grumpiness to gel into gloom.

Digging through a popcorn tin overflowing with ornaments, each wrapped carefully in a sandwich bag, she said, "Don't be surprised if the munchkins are knocking on your door at five tomorrow."

"That's okay. I don't let Y/N sleep in on Christmas." He hung a stained-glass rocking horse on a middle branch of the artificial tree. "You know, she still has the cookie you made her when you were kids. In the toy oven."

"Does she really?"

"She hangs it up every year."

Mabel retrieved another satin bauble, this one from the Keepsake series of ornaments. "Holidays are happy when friends are together" it declared. The phrase brought a pleasant smile to her face and a quickening to her heart.

Y/N's offer to give her a break by preparing Christmas dinner had been a surprise, a true act of affection Mabel had to accept. But when Y/N had said she was going to prepare everything herself, Arthur's brow furrowed into one thick caterpillar. It was an obvious deviation from how this conversation was supposed to go.

Familiar with how hard it was on him to feel shut out, Mabel rescued Arthur from his skepticism with an invitation to make dessert. Dessert wasn't technically a part of dinner and therefore fair game. Though she'd planned on chocolate and pecan pinwheels, they settled on gingerbread cookies and spent the morning rolling dough and downing coffee.

During their third round of cookie cutting, she'd said, "These are perfect. Have you made them before?"

"Penny had a gingerbread recipe on the wall in the kitchen," he'd said. Another drummer boy emerged from the brown dough. "I can't remember making it, but I know I dropped a bag of flour. She smeared it on our faces and told me, 'Every real cook has flour on his cheeks.'"

Mabel's laugh had dissolved into a wistful sigh. From what Y/N had shared, discussions about his childhood were rare and memories that made him smile even rarer. With a sprinkle of flour on both their noses, they'd put the cookie sheet on the middle oven rack and set the timer.

Miss Piggy's shrill plea for five golden rings cut through the recollection. Eyelid twitching, Mabel straightened the hanger of a Baby's First Christmas ceramic bootie and called to her sister. "Remember when we were kids, and we'd sing along to the radio?"

With a nod, Y/N folded white construction paper into a triangle. "And at the Silver Spur." She sang softly, a relief from the record's caterwauling. "Country road, take me home to the place I belong-"

"Gotham City," Mabel joined in. "Jersey highway."

The twitch teasing Arthur's chin defied the set of his jaw.

"When you put it like that, you almost make it sound romantic," Y/N said.

Just then, Ed thudded into the room, lugging a box of plastic garland. Haphazard leaves and berries sprouted from the cardboard box. Nose buried in an LCD hockey game, Jason followed close behind. Ed asked, "Hey, do you do any Christmas standup shows?"

"One or two at the usual clubs." Arthur stood to toss handfuls of Brite Star tinsel at the tree. "How did the wife get her husband to go to the office party?"

"Jason, put that away and help me with this." Ed plunked the box to the carpet with a groan. "I don't know. How?"

"By telling him, 'yule love it.'" An elongated u for pun's sake.

Stifling a giggle, Mabel shook her head. His jokes hadn't gotten much better, but his ability to make her smile won her over.

"And it always works."Y/N extricated herself from scraps of paper, then checked her watch. "I better start dinner," she said, and excused herself from the room.

In her peripheral vision, Mabel caught Arthur's rapid blink. His posture threatened to deflate like an old tire. "I thought she was doing better this time," he mumbled.

"She is, Arthur. She is." In the manner of a mother assigning a sullen son the most important task - as her own mother had done for her after Y/N had moved out - Mabel patted his shoulder. "If you could find the tree topper, that'd be a big help."

~~~~~

Arms folded across his chest, Arthur braced himself on the doorframe, careful to keep his toes on the foyer side of the floor's transition strip and off the kitchen linoleum.

The side of Y/N's hand smoothed a crimson tablecloth over the oblong dining table. She laid a plastic wreath in the middle, completed the centerpiece with three ivory candles inside the ring. She retrieved eight quilted placemats featuring Christmas geese from the drawer to the left of the stove and pulled cloth napkins from the cupboard to the right. She knew where everything was without asking. As if she'd left here yesterday.

When he'd suggested making dinner, bumming around while Y/N roleplayed 1978 wasn't what he'd had in mind. Standing by like an extra as she measured brown sugar and honey. Loitering while she shoved broccoli in Corning Ware and sprinkled it with cheese.

Given that it didn't quite fit her bustline, the velveteen, emerald halter dress she wore must've been borrowed from Mabel. Y/N's hair was feathered in the usual manner, but with extra body that meant she'd used mousse and a curling iron. Earth tone makeup highlighted her natural prettiness, save for the red stain on her lips. Poinsettias dangled from her ears, a Beauty Boutique original.

She opened a panel cabinet over the sink, then grabbed a stepstool to peek inside. Kitten-heeled foot extended behind her, she retrieved a stack of plates. Her shoe threatened to fall to the floor. When she teetered, he offered to steady her. But she declined. Descended backwards step by step. Put the plates on the counter with a soft but unwavering "I've got it."

His cheek ached from gnawing. Out of respect for her, he hadn't argued in front of her sister. But doing this as a couple - as a family - had been what he'd craved.

So he slid across the linoleum to inspect the plates. Trace his thumb over the cheery holly motif along the edges.

She whisked the dishes away. "I'll light the candles when the food is done," she said, a hitch in her voice she failed to hide.

He half-turned to her. Noted the upward draw of her shoulders, elbows tight at her sides. She set matching tumblers at the two o'clock positions by each plate. He longed to fold the cloth napkins. He longed to take out the cutlery.

He longed to pry.

Lips pressed to a sore line, he recalled their fight when he'd cornered her in the shower, one of the worst arguments they'd ever had. He was loathe to follow that road again. Instead, he grabbed a cooking spoon, stirred the mashed potatoes, and searched for compromise.

Before he could err, she crossed to stand two feet from him. Leaning back against the counter, she gripped the Formica edge with both hands. Her fingers went white.

"When I lived here," she started. "I did all the Christmas decorating and cooking. I loved it. It was a day I could pretend my life was normal, just for an hour or two. Mabel and Ed would bring the kids. We'd drink cocoa and open gifts and have a little fun. Except that last year."

Arthur's stirring slowed, every fiber waiting with want for all of it. All of her.

"I wanted to keep my spirit up or touch my dad in some way." A familiar, familial word she never used. It was always father. "But the harder I tried, the worse it was. He wouldn't eat and wouldn't stop crying. When I washed him, he tried to push me away, but he was too weak - his arms were matchsticks. He must've been scared - he wasn't really with it by then. And he scared Mabel and the kids and..."

Lashing fluttering, she sucked her teeth. "The man who'd nurtured me, who'd loved me, wasn't there anymore. He was possessed by a stranger I didn't want to know. And being here - having to stay in this house - was like trying to live inside a ghost."

In spite of the watery tenor of her voice, she offered Arthur a tremulous smile. "Tonight it doesn't feel so haunted."

An anxious dam gave way, crumbling to flood love through his frame. He understood, then. Doing all this by herself standing here alone, was a ritual to exorcise her past. He reached for her wrist, pulled her to his side with one arm. When she put her head on his shoulder, he dropped the cooking spoon into the goopy mass.

Her palms pressed his back. "I'm happy to be able to share this part of me now."

"Me, too. I mean, I'm happy you shared it with me, too." He buried his face in her hair, let out a huff equal parts support and relief. "I want you to share everything."

Seconds of silence before her lips made a smacking sound on her teeth, and he knew she was grinning.

Ever the woman to push down her feelings a tad too quickly (except for love; thank whatever was listening there was always love), she stepped out his arms, wiped her eyes with the heel of her hand. The crockpot let out an air raid warning of a beep.

She took a box of matches from the corner of the windowsill above the sink and pressed it into his palm. Offered a luminous look and invited him into her past. "You light the candles and I'll serve."

~~~~~

Blue wrapping paper with silver bells and holly. Little bears wishing little ones Merry Christmas on pine green. Gold and red foil interweaving in an intricate scroll. The four-by-four space under the tree contained enough color and excitement to fill a North Pole workshop.

Hair tugged into a haphazard ponytail and replete in fuzzy slippers, Mabel dropped onto a chair next to Ed and attempted to squint away her dull headache. The adults had stayed up until 1:00 AM last night, wrapping boxes, drinking cocoa, and carrying on. After dinner, Arthur had nibbled at the gingerbread cookies until he'd had to take two Tums - then surprised everyone by claiming the last slice of Thanksgiving's pumpkin pie.

Clad in their lazy morning best, Arthur and Y/N sat hip to hip in front of the tree. She'd yanked on the lavender socks with the enthusiasm of having found a long-lost treasure. He munched on the macadamia nuts Mabel had thought would make a lame gift, but Y/N had insisted he'd love. The cowhide wallet she'd given him lay open on his lap, the card slot's gold leaf letters reading "A + S" followed by a heart on display. Cheesy. Seemingly out of character for Big Sis. But she glowed whenever she talked about him. She'd gotten starry eyed about Jeff but never glowed.

Once she'd unwrapped Mabel's present to her, she held it in both hands but hesitated to open it. The photo album risked melancholy, but Mabel hoped Y/N would be able to find joy, too.

"Those are photos of us," Mabel assured her. At that, Y/N lifted the front cover. The first was a black and white featuring four year old Y/N cross-legged on the floor, the new baby in her arms, a big grin on her face. "I took the best pictures from all of mom and dad's photo albums. They start from when we were little and go until our visit last year. And there are blank pages for more."

Hugging the album to her chest, Y/N made a promise. "There'll be more. A lot more."

Ruthie helped Ashley put one of her Wuzzles reading cassettes in her Fisher Price tape player, while Ashley patted Ruthie's jewelry box's quilted surface as if it were a cat. Jason let Brian try out his new baseball mitt, and Brian put his feet on the coffee table and flipped through his Experiments in Ecology book.

Ed's morning breath stank of garlic from gourmet pickles. Already wearing his new Casio calculator watch, he flipped through the manual of the AT&T cordless phone, a gift Mabel hoped meant Y/N wanted more phone calls. The Thai script on the curry pastes was something Mabel had never seen before, but Y/N promised that if she could cook with them, anyone could figure it out. ("Just add vegetables and chicken and you're good.")

When Mabel unwrapped the present from her hubby, she recognized the logo as soon as she glimpsed the outline of a petal. She'd kept the box shut. Warmth enveloped her. He'd made her feel beautiful again, in that special way she'd reminisced. In the way that belonged to them.

No matter what she'd confided in the mall, the moments she struggled were worth it. Still there, still hard. But she'd do her best to follow her sister's advice. Make sure to enjoy herself as a mother, a wife, and herself.

And Dr. Sally would remain on-call.

Mabel called Ruthie to her side and spoke in her ear. Loud enough for all to hear but quiet enough to make the girl feel special. "Can you and your brothers set the table?"

Ruthie nodded and skipped her way to the foyer. When the boys remained glued to the sofa, Ed rose with a Come On, Sons gesture. Arthur plucked a candy cane from tree, then plucked Ashley from the carpet and carried her to the kitchen.

Mabel grabbed a purple bow from the carpet, winced as she straightened, a barbel rolling from her forehead to her neck. "The next time you suggest spiking a drink, remind me to say no."

Anchoring herself on the coffee table, Y/N moved to stand. "I'll put on an extra pot of coffee." She gathered strewn wrapping paper and ribbon and crumpled them into a ball. "Make sure you take it easy when Thanksgiving and Christmas roll around."

"Ed's parents are hosting," Mabel said, and waved off her concern. With his sister stuck in Michigan this year, it'd be a smaller gathering. With his big brother around, Ed would regress to being the youngest as soon as he smelled a pie in the oven.

Arms overflowing, they padded towards the kitchen. But they lingered halfway there to bask in the magic of Not Quite Christmas.

Ed worked around the kids, handing them plates, directing where to put them. Arthur retrieved a mixing bowl and frying pan in preparation for cinnamon French Toast, a tradition he'd brought from the Fleck household. While Ed searched the cupboards, Arthur crouched beside Ashley, who laughed at her uncle between rounds of peek-a-boo.

"You made this visit beautiful, Mabel. Mom would be proud of you." Y/N freed up an arm and hugged her at the waist. Spoke the words Mabel had longed to hear for the better part of a decade. The words that made the wheels of self-forgiveness run ten times faster. "After all these years, I think we both found what we've been looking for."

Elated, Mabel dropped the paper to the floor. "I know I have." She seized Y/N about the middle, hard enough to lift her to her toes. "I know we have."

~~~~~

Tag list (Let me know if you want to be added!): @harmonioussolve @ithinkimaperson @sweet-nothings04 @stephieraptorr @rommies @fallenstarsabyss @gruffle1 @another-day-in-chuckletown @hhandley80 @jokerownsmysoul @rafaelbottom @ralugraphics @iartsometimes @fleckficgirl

#arthur fleck #arthur fleck fanfic #arthur fleck x reader #arthur fleck x female reader #arthur fleck x ofc #joker 2019 #watchwhathappens

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mediadollz · 10 months

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LUNARIX’S DEBUT MINI ALBUM “ THE MOONDUST CATALOG ” TRACK SAMPLER !

After much trials and tribulations, LUNARIX formerly known as ANGELGIRLZ made their debut with the mini album "THE MOONDUST CATALOG" featuring six tracks written by the members of Lunarix themselves.

The mini album hosts an impressive list of producers from the musical return of Son Jinhwa to the reunion of producing dup SUGA + Noir. Many HYBE producers were featured on the album including M.I.A, Noir, and SUGA. The album also features Supersonic's Choi Sookyung AKA HONEYTRAP (@bttrflyeffekt) as a producer and Angelico artists Elliot and Zasha on the producers' list.

LUNARIX Unveils "THE MOONDUST CATALOG": A Cosmic Exploration with Room to Grow

Rating: 6.8/10

LUNARIX, the six-member powerhouse from Angelico Entertainment, makes a celestial splash with their debut mini-album "THE MOONDUST CATALOG." Bursting onto the K-pop scene with an impressive display of creative energy, the group's six tracks showcase both their lyrical ingenuity and rhythmic experimentation. Pitchfork's critical ear takes a keen listen, delivering a rating of 6.8 out of 10 – a score that reflects the group's promising debut while acknowledging the spaces for growth.

"ATTENTION!" - Familiar Echoes with a Fresh Spin

"ATTENTION!" ignites the journey with a sound reminiscent of K-pop's glorious past. The group treads on familiar ground, paying homage to the infectious energy of f(x)'s "Rum Pum Pum Pum." While the track's rhythm and beats capture attention, it's the lyrics that raise an eyebrow. LUNARIX cleverly weaves a narrative of unexpected first love, presenting it like a riddle waiting to be solved. The lyrical delivery mirrors the track's heartbeat, brimming with playful curiosity.

"So Pitiful" - Assertive Resilience Amidst Familiarity

In "So Pitiful," LUNARIX empowers themselves through assertive lyrics that evoke the feistiness of 2NE1's "Go Away." The rhythmic architecture amplifies the song's resolve, creating a sonic realm that's both audacious and resolute. This time, it's not the rhythm but the lyrical narrative that raises a contemplative eyebrow. While the empowerment anthem resonates with unapologetic authenticity, occasional lyrical clichés dim the song's brilliance.

"No Words, All Silence" - Vulnerability in Sonic Elegance

LUNARIX delves into the realm of vulnerability with "No Words, All Silence." The ethereal rhythm blankets the track, reminiscent of the softer moments in Red Velvet's discography. It's a song where the lyrics take center stage, capturing the essence of a communication breakdown within a relationship. The melancholic beats harmonize with the bittersweet storytelling, invoking a sense of nostalgia and introspection.

"Our Miracle" - Dreams and Rhythms Intertwined

"Our Miracle" soars on dreamy rhythms that encapsulate the sensation of flight, echoing F(x)'s "Airplane." The lyrics paint a picture of unity and shared aspirations, but it's the song's rhythmic journey that sometimes falters. While LUNARIX's harmonies ride high, there's a lingering desire for the rhythm to be as audacious as the group's dreams.

"Endless Falling" - Echoes of Longing in Rhythmic Quandary

The melancholic cadence of "Endless Falling" mirrors the sensation of drifting through a starlit abyss, akin to Red Velvet's "Kingdom Come." Lyrically, the track excels in conveying the anguish of love's persistence, but the rhythm occasionally loses its grip. The beats meander through the emotional expanse, creating a yearning ambiance that could benefit from a more defined sonic trajectory.

"Missed Call" - Sonic Connections and Unfulfilled Promise

"Missed Call" transmits its message through intricate rhythmic transmissions, echoing the electronic currents of F(x)'s "Signal." The lyrics embody longing and missed opportunities, resonating with anyone familiar with the pangs of communication gone astray. While LUNARIX's vocals navigate the intricate rhythms adeptly, the track feels on the precipice of fully realizing its sonic potential.

A Promising Voyage into the Cosmos...

LUNARIX's debut mini-album "THE MOONDUST CATALOG" beams with creative spark and potential. Their songwriting prowess shines through in the carefully crafted lyrics, which often serve as poignant reflections of human emotion. The album navigates the cosmos of K-pop with varied rhythmic choices, at times venturing into familiar territories while occasionally pushing towards uncharted horizons. With a critical yet hopeful rating of 6.8/10, LUNARIX's celestial journey has just begun, promising a future where they may truly soar among the stars of the K-pop galaxy.

#˖˵˵˵˵˵˵ଘ( ꈍᴗꈍ)⋆ DISCOGRAPHY #ficnetfairy #oc kpop group #fictional idol community #kpop oc #fake kpop oc #idol oc #oc girl group #fake kpop idol #idolverse #fictional idol group #idol au #bts addition #kpop addition #kpop au #fake kpop girl group #fake kpop group

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beardedmrbean · 2 months

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A Florida paraprofessional has been accused of having sex with a 12-year-old student, buying his silence with electronics and treats, then telling his family she would "quit and leave the area" after she was caught.

Royal Palm Exceptional Center Instruction Support employee Lauren King, 32, was charged with two counts of lewd or lascivious battery and was arrested on March 7, the Fort Myers Police Department wrote in a press release.

King reportedly saved the student's number to send him a photo she had taken of him and his classroom friend, according to court documents obtained by Fox News Digital.

Their interactions quickly escalated to sexual encounters, including in King's car and in the classroom, records show.

From Jan. 28 onward, King exchanged over 4,000 text messages with the victim, according to court documents, and repeatedly reminded him to delete their correspondence.

In one text message, she told the student he would get into "sooooo much trouble." In another, she told him that "if they ever go through your phone, you're getting arrested."

Those messages included nude selfies and videos of sex acts performed on herself, police wrote in their affidavit.

At one point, police wrote, King asked the student what he wanted for his birthday and said she would bring him money. After they had sex on one occasion, police wrote, she repeatedly told the child not to tell anyone about the encounter, sending him $235 and buying him an iPhone, Beats headphones and a Dell computer.

King repeatedly told the boy she loved him via text messages contained in court documents; conversely, they showed, she tried to manipulate him by telling him she was having sex with other students.

The boy's family members reported the abuse to Fort Myers Police on March 3, according to the department. When a family member called King, police said, she told them to give her a week so she could "quit and leave the area."

A warrant was issued for King's arrest on March 6, according to court documents.

In a statement to Fox 4, the Lee County School District wrote that it did "not tolerate this kind of behavior."

"The employee involved was immediately removed from the school when allegations were reported pending the outcome of an investigation," a spokesperson told the outlet.

An attorney for the victim's family told the outlet that the Lee County School District "allowed a child predator to infiltrate our most vulnerable spaces."

"This predator targeted our client, and it was only due to his vigilant parents that she was stopped," the attorney said. "The school district bears responsibility for allowing such a dangerous individual near our children... and must own up to its critical failure in safeguarding our students."

Fox News Digital could not reach an attorney representing King for comment at press time. Her next court date in Florida's 20th Judicial Circuit is scheduled for April 8, according to court records.

#nunyas news

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felassan · 11 months

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Article: 'EA Sports and EA Games Splitting Apart in Internal Shakeup'

EA is undergoing a major internal reorganization, with EA Games being renamed "EA Entertainment." Electronic Arts is undergoing a major internal shakeup, announcing today in a message from CEO Andrew Wilson that it is realigning its major studios and its leadership structure in an effort to "empower our creative teams." The reorganization includes splitting EA Games and EA Sports, with the former being renamed "EA Entertainment" in a signal that EA intends to expand beyond games where possible. "We’re building the future of interactive entertainment on a foundation of legendary franchises and innovative new experiences, which represents massive opportunities for growth," Wilson wrote in a message announcing the news. Laura Miele, previously EA's Chief Operating Officer, will take over as EA President of Entertainment, Technology, and Central Development at EA Entertainment, where she will work closely with Vince Zampella and other well-known executives. Cam Weber, who rose out of EA's football games, will continue to lead EA Sports. Both will enjoy expanded control over their respective labels intended to give them more oversight over budgets and decision-making flexibility. Wilson will continue to preside over both organizations as EA's CEO. The moves coincide with news that Chief Experiences Officer Chris Bruzzo is retiring, with EA Chief Financial Officer Chris Suh also departing the company. David Tinson and Stuart Canfield respectively will take over their responsibilities. The moves are the latest in what has been a major reorganization for EA. Earlier this month, we reported that Star Wars: The Old Republic is on course to move to a third-party developer, with many of its developers being given the opportunity to move elsewhere in the company. It's unclear whether the current reorganization will result in layoffs. As before, EA Sports will continue to look after the F1 series, which just releases, as well as PGA Tour and the newly-acquired Super Mega Baseball. This is on top of traditional blockbusters including Madden, the newly-renamed EA Sports FC, NHL, and the upcoming College Football reboot. EA Entertainment, meanwhile, will encompass Respawn, DICE, Ripple Effect, Ridgeline Games (Battlefield), Full Circle (Skate), Motive Studio (Iron Man), EA's Seattle studio, BioWare, and the EA Originals label. EA also includes numerous mobile games, including Star Wars: Galaxy of Heroes and the recently-released Lord of the Rings: Heroes of Middle-earth. While dramatic on the face of it, much of the current structure will remain intact, with Zampella continuing to lead Respawn and Battlefield. Samantha Ryan will likewise continue to be in charge of BioWare, Maxis, Full Circle, and Motive Studios. Apart from giving studios leaders more control over their respective domains, the big change appears to be centered on separating out EA Sports, which continues to be EA's biggest profit driver. EA's soccer sims in particular continue to be major money machines for EA, with FIFA 23 pushing the publisher near $2 billion in net bookings. "Over the coming months, Stuart, Laura, Cam, and David will partner closely with studio leaders to implement these organizational changes, further embedding dedicated capabilities into franchise teams and driving operational rigor," Wilson wrote, claiming that "EA's business remains strong."

[source]

#dragon age: dreadwolf #dragon age 4 #the dread wolf rises #da4 #dragon age #bioware #mass effect #next mass effect #video games #long post #longpost

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aziraphales-library · 1 year

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hello, i hope you are all doing well! this blog is as always the most beautiful lighthouse, guiding us in this fandom. thank you so much! i was wondering if you could help me: i don't know if this is too specific or if there is a tag for it, but i was looking for stories that featured one defending the other, in any situation, but more with words than actions. again, thank you so much for your disposition!

Hi and you’re welcome! You’ll want to check our #protective crowley and #protective aziraphale tags for fics like this. And here are some fics which include Aziraphale and Crowley standing up for each other using their words...

Sticks and Stones by Oneshotshipper (M)

Following their body-swap stunt to escape their punishments, Aziraphale and Crowley are inching closer to something more than just an arrangement, something deeper than a friendship. Aziraphale receives a visitor to his shop, who was more than a little put out at being bested by him. Gabriel has some things to say, attempting to sow doubt in the angel. Luckily, Crowley is to the rescue.

don’t call me angel by LeilaKalomi (M)

When Ethereal Electronics sends its software developers on a retreat at St. Beryl’s Resort, Aziraphale Fell, constantly mocked by his coworkers, feels trapped. But at the retreat center, he finds himself drawn to Anthony Crowley, a dance instructor, and sees an opportunity to help someone in need as he rediscovers one of his youthful pastimes—ballroom dancing—and finds a new passion altogether in Anthony Crowley.

Loosely based on Dirty Dancing.

Single For Christmas? Mad At Your Dad? by ElliottRook (E) (Technically a WIP but the first chapter was initially written as a one-shot)

Inspired by the classic "Alone on Thanksgiving? Mad at your dad?" Craigslist ad that went viral a few years ago. (It's a lot more lighthearted than the tags make it sound)

Aziraphale's overbearing family chased off all the boyfriends he'd ever dared to bring home. When he saw an ad from a fellow offering to, essentially, ruin dinner for free food, it sounded like the perfect revenge, and maybe he could teach his family a lesson.

Crowley didn't actually expect anyone to respond to the ad, much less someone as charming as Aziraphale, but he was still game to cause a scene.

It didn't go quite like either of them pictured.

were you born to be loved (but nobody else seems to know)? by LeilaKalomi (E)

Crowley books a weekend at an exclusive sex resort, hoping to finally resolve something that has been bothering him for a long time so he can move forward with his life.

He doesn't expect so many feelings to be involved.

Of Size and other Matters by LCwrites (E)

When Crowley gets a random text from an unknown number, he thinks it must be a joke at first. Turns out it's by a rather amusing stranger who might have an interesting matter at hand.

Aziraphale just wants to get an upcoming function over with and not have people trying to set him up with anyone. At least whoever accidentally received his message seems to take the mishap with humour.

A Careful Kind of Something by hope_in_the_dark (T)

Ezra Seraff and Anthony Crowley aren't exactly what you'd call friends. Yet.

- Mod D

#good omens #ineffable husbands #adult omens #protective crowley #protective aziraphale #emotional hurt/comfort #mod d

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arkhampsych · 1 year

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@spirit-x-ing | 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐔𝐄𝐃.

𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘣𝘪𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘨𝘶𝘪𝘭𝘵 ? Crane swiped his messages away and returned to his contact album. He realized after scrolling through page after page that the connection he planned to call was criminal — of course he didn’t save their number. He sighed and placed his phone back in his pocket. He’d have to track down this pyromaniac in Gotham’s cesspool of crime and poverty : 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘰𝘸𝘴.

A bit more work than he would’ve liked.

He strode down the steps to his warehouse’s lower level, grabbing his briefcase off the industrial table occupying the center of his room. After switching off the lights at a power control panel, he exited through a side entrance — more convenient than messing with the lock and chain keeping the large front doors shut.

His mind hadn’t registered the half - hour of scenery that passed outside his car between the warehouse and Narrows. He parked his car by an old diner and pulled on a pair of fitted black gloves. The city was always deceptively quiet just before entering the heart of its corruption. 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘮 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘢 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘮. Crane opened his briefcase, taking stock of his equipment,

𝘢 𝘴𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘭, 𝘴𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘷𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘮𝘱𝘶𝘵𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘬𝘯𝘪𝘧𝘦 — not as practical as it was stylish. 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘨𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘴 𝘷𝘪𝘢𝘭𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘭𝘪𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘥 𝘧𝘦𝘢𝘳. 𝘴𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘭 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘵𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘨𝘢𝘴. 𝘢𝘯 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘢𝘴𝘢𝘭 𝘦𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘥𝘦𝘷𝘪𝘤𝘦. and his new contraption, 𝘢 𝘥𝘦𝘷𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰𝘹𝘪𝘯 𝘪𝘯 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘦𝘹𝘦𝘳𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘤𝘦.

He removed his watch from his wrist, replacing it with the cuff laced with his deadly neurotoxin. This method of weaponized fear was more convienient than reaching into his coat for the glass syringe he kept tucked inside a black leather pouch. He stood before an alley entrance, his breath clouding at his mouth in a similar fashion to the vapor billowing out of a sewer grate.

Other than the fact the alleyway ran parallel to Park Row, it’s dampened brick walls and littered walkway appeared like any other. After walking only three minutes, a door opened — from the smell, Crane assumed it was the back entrance to some seedy bar. Two men dragged out a helplessly intoxicated man, and proceeded to beat him as he was cornered against a wall. The Good Doctor stepped around them, leaving the gentlemen to sort out their business in privacy.

The establishment he was searching for was only a twenty minute walk. He arrived at an open door, smoke wafting from the entrance. A man sat with his back to the doorway, blasting music through a small speaker while sautering a worn sheet of metal, clad in long johns, a stained thermal, and a face gaurd. The entire room was lined with shelves displaying broken electronics. A bin, occupying the center and blocking much of the walkway featured carelessly tossed or fenced computers and radios. Crane waited patiently for the sounds of searing metal to cease before speaking. Only, his presence was discovered by the demolitions expert first. He spun pointing a gun at Crane from across the room, “ Get out ! ” the man yelled from beneath a metal face gaurd. Crane ignored the firearm, stepping towards a shelf and switching off the speaker blasting noise. “ Hey ! ” The Man stood, lifting his face gaurd and glaring at The Doctor with wide, blood shot eyes, “ Who the fuck do you think you are ?! ”

“ I was referred to you, two years ago … ” The Man looked at Crane skeptically. “ I commissioned a series of remote detonators. ” The Doctor added. The Demolitions Expert grinned, lowering his fire arm “ o h … you’re that nutty professor who wanted to blow the university sky high. ” Crane smiled stiffly at the severe oversimplification of his objective, “ yes. that’s … yeah. ” he nodded to himself. In retrospect, attempting to level Gotham U was, perhaps, a bit frenzied and reckless. “ Listen teach, after the flood I pawned off all the detonators you commissioned to some guy online but — ”

“ oh no, ” Crane interjected, “ I’m here for something else. ” he stepped forward. “ eh ? ” The Man lit a joint, “ What’s that. ” Crane held his breath as smoke was absently blown his way. “ chemical warfare. ”

“ you gonna napalm some poor bastards professor ? ” The Man smirked, his crudely rolled joint dangled from the edge of his mouth and wagged with each word. “ no. ” Crane smiled as patiently as he was able, “ I would like to expose a group of people to a vaporized psychotropic compound. ” The Man stared at him. “ a gas. ” Crane simplified.

“ Wait here. ” The Man tossed his lighter onto his work desk and grunted as he stepped around the bin of defunct electronics. Crane approached the work desk, curious what The Demolitions Expert had in mind. “ You’re looking for some kind of emission device right ? ”

“ preferably one that can be activated remotely. ” The Doctor specified. “ Uh huh. ” The Man pulled a box off of a shelf and carelessly dropped it onto his work station. Crane opened the box and looked up at The Man in long johns, “ what is this. ” The Man picked up a circular device that sat comfortably in his palm. The side had a small black button and several wires connecting to a vent in the middle of the disk. “ Take off the back, ” he flipped the disk over in his palm and picked up a screwdriver, “ Put whatever shit you want your students to choke on here — ” he tapped a small pocket of space intended to hold cartridge, “ Screw the back panel on, press this little button here on the side to calibrate it, and use this remote. ” He reached into the box, grabbing a small cylindrical device with a metal button on top.

“ how much. ” Crane asked flatly. The Man squinted at the device and brushed it with his thumb, “ Shit I dunno … seven hundred. ”

“ each ? ” “ Yeah. ”

Crane exhaled and laid his briefcase on the table. He popped it open, taking out two rolls of one - hundred - dollar bills. “ this should be more than enough … ” He closed his briefcase and lifted the box, carrying it under his arm. The Demolitions Fanatic counted the money he’d been paid as Crane made his way out the door. “ What, you don’t gotta know math to get a degree ? ” The Man scoffed, “ This ain’t even half. ” Crane turned impatiently, glaring at The Fanatic from outside his shop’s doorway, “ it’s more than enough. ” He reiterated. “ Fuck you man — ” The Man tossed a radio out the doorway, It shattered on the ground, springs and screws skipping down the Alleyway. Crane froze, watching the man approach with a gun from his periphery. “ What kind of shit is this ?! ”

The Doctor calmly set the box down, turning towards The Man and raising a hand while reaching into his coat. His other hand re - appeared, clutching burlap. He pulled on his mask, raising both hands to indicate that he was unarmed. The Man stepped back warily “ w — ? ”

Crane thrust his wrist forward. Poison cascaded from his sleeve, tainting the air with terrible 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘴 and 𝘷𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴. The Demolitions Expert choked on The Doctor’s corrupted drug, his heart beat violently against his ribs as the ceiling above him stretched. He dropped his gun, cowering from the phantom that towered over him.

Crane observed his compound’s effects on the once brazen 𝘱𝘺𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘢𝘤. When he was satisfied by the foolish man’s whimpers, he returned to the box he’d left in the alleyway and set in stride towards his car.

#𝙰 𝙻𝙸𝚃𝚃𝙻𝙴 𝙼𝙴𝙳𝙸𝙲𝙰𝚃𝙴𝙳 𝙵𝙴𝙰𝚁. (𝚖𝚊𝚒𝚗)#I’m going to stop here because this got waaaay longer than intended.#I’m a big fan of lorelai’s grand theft auto.#poor Alfred though.#typing this made me realize that this fella carries deadly neurotoxins on his person like they’re cough drops.#spirit x crossing

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