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kitixie · 9 months

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Little Girl Gone (pt 2)

Little Girl Gone / T.S. (part 2)

part three here

Synopsis: You agree to meet up with Tommy for dinner, but when it doesnt go to plan you find yourself in a dangerous situation.

warnings: violence (not extreme, very canon typical), tommy is not nice but i promise it'll make sense later, cursing

word count: 2.4k

taglist: @budugu , please let me know if youd like to be tagged!

information: Thank you all so much for reading, it warms my heart to know someone enjoys my writing! please leave a comment if you have a critique or anything else to say!

Around 4:30 the following evening, you began to get ready for your dinner with Thomas.

As you brushed and styled your hair, you thought of his strange mannerisms from the night before. He had seemed off towards the end of the conversation, and that was something that never happened, as nothing ever threw Thomas off. Just as the final touches of your hair and makeup came together, you realized the time. You had been so lost in your thoughts and in your indulgent hair care and makeup routine, that you had spent an hour primping and priming. Now only thirty minutes away from Tommy’s arrival, you needed to pick out a dress.

To a man, picking out a dress for dinner may seem like a small task in the grand scheme of his day, but all women know this to be false. First, you pick a dress. Then, you have to pick coordinating stockings, an overcoat, sometimes an undercoat, a bag, gloves, and depending on time of day, a hat. So what most men would deem as a quick process, isn’t a quick process at all. You did happen to be in luck though, as your favorite dress was one of the only items of clothing you’d hung up in your small closet after you moved in. You had your stockings from the night before, and they were a perfect match for your skin tone so that was also an easy choice. You decided to forgo a handbag, as you’d just be going to the Shelby’s, so you wouldn’t need any money. For shoes, you settled on a pair of well-broken-in kitten heels. This outfit was out of your recent rotation, given the odd jobs and such you had been working after your fathers death and mothers disownment, but Tommy always dressed to impress, so you thought you should too. Following that train of thought, you added a pair of your mothers white satin gloves, and awaited his arrival at your place.

6:00 pm

A loud knock sounded through your apartment, and you quickly jumped to open the door. There, in all his glory, stood Thomas Shelby. Looking good as ever in his black suit with a pressed white dress shirt, this time his hat folded in his hands.

“Y/N, you look lovely this evening.”, he remarked, eyes scanning you from head to toe.

“Thank you Tommy, you look handsome, as always,” you blushed, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks.

Tommy smiled, offering his hand to help you out of the door and down the stairs of your apartment. You accepted his hand, loosely holding it in yours, before dropping it to turn around and lock the door of your home.

Once the two of you had made it to Tommy’s car, he opened your door.

“Always the gentleman, aye Tommy?”, you laughed, giving him a soft smile as you stepped into the car and sank down into the passenger seat.

“For you, yes, always.” He nodded, reciprocating your smile, and gently closing the door.

He rounded the car, getting in on his own side and starting the engine up. It gave a sputter, then turned over, allowing him to put it in gear.

“I could take a look at sometime that if you’d like Tommy.” You spoke softly, wanting to offer your help.

“How do you know anything about automobiles? Did you work as a mechanic in your time away, Love?” He joked, a small laugh followed by a toothy smile coming from his mouth.

“Yes, actually. I did.” You said sternly, not appreciating the mans sarcasm.

“And what else did you do in your time away? I suppose you also learned to train horses, or fire a gun?” He joked again, clearly not understanding your short tone of voice.

“One of those I did, the other I am still clueless about. Feel free to guess which.” You stated, now having grown angry at his teasing.

Tommy feigned a sigh, followed by his imitation of a horses neigh. The two of you remained silent for the remainder of the ride to Watery Lane, only for the conversation to be interrupted by Tommy as the two of you pulled up to park in front of the house.

“Just so you know, Arthur and Pol are here as well. They wanted to hear all your stories about your time away as soon as I told them I was bringing you over.” He spoke, his gaze remaining on your face.

“Okay, Tommy.” You spat, still quite upset about the conversation at the beginning of the ride.

Before he could ask any questions, you pulled open the door to the car, getting out. He tried to catch up to you, but you made it to the front door of the Shelby home before he did, and let yourself in the house. Old habits die hard, as they say.

Once inside the home, you surveyed your surroundings. Not much of the decor had changed, a few updated photos here and there, but mostly everything was still in its rightful place. You made your way through the house at a leisurely pace, admiring all the once familiar details that now seemed new. You made your way to the dining room, while Tommy still trailed behind you, watching your every move.

“Oh dear, it is so lovely to see you again! It’s been so long, how are you?” Pol said, quickly rising from her chair to give you a warm, yet firm hug.

“I’ve been good Pol, thank you. How have you been?” You returned, not only as a formality but because you were genuinely interested in her life.

As Pol rattled off her answer, talking about ‘business this’ and ‘this family that’, you noticed Tommy move behind you. He came around to your left side, pulling a chair out. You remained standing, not wanting to sit if that was where he had wanted to sit, but the soft hand on the small of your back encouraged you to take the seat. You briefly nodded up at him and gave a soft smile, then continuing to listen to Pol.

After Pol had placed food for everyone on the table, you all began eating. Someone had made a delicious meal, one of your favorites. You first assumed it was Pol, but when you complemented her, she quickly told you ‘Oh dear, I didn’t make this’ and cast a look at Tommy from across the table. You didn’t put any effort into figuring out what that glance meant, rather you just enjoyed the food and answered their occasional question. The questions weren’t anything to outrageous, until one came tumbling out of Arthur’s mouth.

“So, Y/N, what made you come back to the grand ol’ town of Small Heath?” He said, smiling at his question.

“I, uh,” you swallowed. You had truly hoped no one would ask, but you should’ve expected it. You cursed yourself for not preparing an answer ahead of time.

Your mouth ran dry for a moment as you tried to formulate what to say that would keep you out of the most shit. You didn’t want to blurt out the truth, but they most likely already knew it anyways, they were the Shelby’s after all.

“My mother and I had a disagreement about my…life plan.” You spoke, satisfied with your answer.

“What life plan, dear? What does that mean?” Pol added to the questioning.

“Probably the same life plan that included her learning about cars and horses,” Tommy said under his breath, but not nearly quiet enough, as the entire table heard him.

“Now Thomas, you know women can do what they choose.” Pol reprimanded, giving Tom a stern stare.

“Yes, women can.” He spoke, “but not Y/N.”

“And why not Thomas? Am I not a woman?” You said, letting your fork clank against your plate. He had your full attention now, and not in a good way.

“You are, you’re just…different.” He spoke, his gaze now on you instead of Pol.

You scoffed, and shook your head at him. You couldn’t believe what he was saying. You didn’t recognize the Tommy in front of you, your Tommy, the one from 5 years ago, would have been uncaring about your interests, and glad to have someone be so knowledgeable about certain topics. You just stared at him for a moment, waiting on him to say something, anything, that would explain his previous remarks. But nothing ever came, and when you realized nothing ever would, you stood from the table, thanked Pol and Arthur for the dinner, and headed for the door.

Once outside the Shelby house, now all alone, you began walking. You were initially going to go home, but the dwindling liquor supply in your own cabinets encouraged you to find The Garrison. You walked down the streets, that still held a handful of people, mulling your thoughts. Tommy acted like a real jackass, especially given that he was the one who invited you over. By the time your anger had mostly settled, you reached the doors of The Garrison.

9:00 pm

You’d been sat at the bar of The Garrison for around an hour, and were plenty of drinks deep. You now held no anger towards Tommy; hell, you could barely picture his face in your mind. You hadn’t intended on getting drunk tonight, but the lovely barmaid by the name of Grace had been giving you all your drinks ‘on the house’, and who were you to turn down free alcohol? Especially given how you’d left your purse at home because you were ‘just going to the Shelby’s’.

A loud grunt came from behind you, followed by a man sitting down on the stool next to yours. You gave him a quick glance and nod, not recognizing his face.

“What’s a pretty lady like you doing at the bar all alone, aye?”, he questioned, breathing his hot, putrid breath into your face.

“One, I’m not alone. Two, none of your business, aye?” You said, hoping to be forceful enough that he got the hint and left you alone.

Unfortunately, he did not. The next thing you knew, he had his fat arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to his barstool.

“Now listen here, little lady,” he breathed, “You can come to the back alley with me on your own will, or I can make you.” He threatened, brandishing a bowie knife from his waist.

You sat for a moment, considering your options. You knew you definitely were not going into that alley, even if you had to die bloody for it. You quickly came up with a plan in your head, and before you could talk yourself out of it, you acted.

“Fat chance, ya bastard. Now let me go,” you said loudly, hoping to draw some attention.

The man laughed at you, and moved his hand up to grab your shoulder, encasing your frame in his large arm. There was no denying he had size on you, but you had speed. And speed always won. You quickly ducked under his arm, knocking your barstool over behind you. You grabbed his wrist as you slipped out of his hold, bringing his hand to the middle of his back.

“What do ya say now, you piece of shit,” you laughed in his ear.

Faster than you expected, he ripped his wrist from your hands, and turned to face you. You heard a loud pop, then the feeling of pain registered on your face. The fucker had just backhanded you infront of the entire Garrison. You gave a small chuckle, which spiraled into a full out laugh, leaving the man utterly confused. You turned your eyes up towards him, feigning doe eyes at the man, before you placed both hands on his shoulders. You moved in closer to his body, and before he could realize, you hooked your right leg behind his knee, and shoved his shoulders as hard as you could manage and still stay upright.

The large man tumbled to the ground, hitting his head on your now discarded barstool. While you had the chance, you snatched the knife from his hands and knelt down on top of his large body. You pressed the edge of his blade against his own neck, feeling a sense of pride swell through you. You had just taken down this very large, muscular man in front of an entire pub. But before you could get any witty remarks out to your fallen opponent, you heard one thing.

“Y/N, what have you done?”

Fuck. Tommy had found you, and no less, found you on top of man, with a knife against his throat, in his brothers pub.

“Y/N, get off of him. Now.” Tommy spoke, his voice sounding closer now. You turned your head to look at him, finally taking your eyes off of the assailant for just a moment.

Tommy was standing right behind you, with a look similar to what you could assume the wrath of God would look like. He stood poised, with his hands behind his back, peaky hat on top of his head, hiding his eyes. You turned back to look at the fallen man underneath you, seeing his own look of fear on his face. Then you noticed drops of blood splatting onto the man's face. He wasn’t bleeding, you hadn’t cut him, this much you knew. You tossed the knife to the side, far enough away where neither of you could reach it, and felt for your own face. A warm spot of blood came back on your hand; He had cut the corner of your eye open when he backhanded you. You felt angry at first, then ashamed. This man had cut you, and you kept fighting him like a crazed person. Hot tears bubbled at the corners of your eyes, before you climbed off of the man.

Tommy grabbed you, helping you to stand on your feet. You were still trying to hold back the tears in your eyes while he gently held your chin, looking over your wound.

“Love, go to the office. Wait for me, I’ll be there soon.” He spoke, softly.

You mustered a nod, and scuffled your way to the back office, to wait for him.

#thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby fic #tommy shelby x you #thomas shelby x y/n #peaky blinder fanfic #thomas shelby #tommy shelby

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queenofthedisneyverse · 2 months

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Technology from 1870-1899 (For Encanto fic writers)

So, A mutual of mine @miracles-and-butterfliess pointed out that everyone (including me) tends to forget that Encanto was literally made when the triplets were born. Which is literally 1900 or 1901. Regardless, it was the very beginning of the 19th century so let me tell you about the technology/things they would/wouldn’t have. (And please keep in mind that most of these may or may not have been imported into Colombia yet.)

1870 - 1879

1872—A.M. Ward creates the first mail-order catalog. NO

1873—Joseph Glidden invented barbed wire. NO

1876—Alexander Graham Bell patents the telephone. NO

1876—Nicolaus August Otto invents the first practical four-stroke internal combustion engine. NO

1876—Melville Bissell patents the carpet sweeper. NO?

1878—Thomas Edison invents the cylinder phonograph (known then as the tin foil phonograph). MAYBE

1878—Eadweard Muybridge invents moving pictures. NO?

1878—Sir Joseph Wilson Swan invents the prototype for a practical electric lightbulb. YES?

1879—Thomas Edison invented the first commercially viable incandescent electric light bulb. NO?

1880 - 1889

1880—The British Perforated Paper Company debuts toilet paper. YES

1880—English inventor John Milne creates the modern seismograph. NO

1881—David Houston patents camera film in roll format. NO?

1884—Lewis Edson Waterman invents the first practical fountain pen. YES

1884—L. A. Thompson built and opened the first roller coaster in the United States at a site on Coney Island, New York. NO

1884—James Ritty invents a functional mechanical cash register. YES?

1884—Charles Parson patents the steam turbine. NO

1885—Karl Benz invented the first practical automobile powered by an internal-combustion engine. NO (even before Encanto, Alma’s town looked rural so I doubt the automobile reached them yet.)

1885—Gottlieb Daimler invented the first gas-engine motorcycle. NO

1886—John Pemberton introduces Coca-Cola. NO

1886—Gottlieb Daimler designs and builds the world's first four-wheeled automobile. NO

1887—Heinrich Hertz invents radar. NO

1887—Emile Berliner invented the gramophone. YES

1887—F.E. Muller and Adolph Fick invented the first wearable contact lenses. NO

1888—Nikola Tesla invents the alternating current motor and transformer. NO

1890 - 1899

1891—Jesse W. Reno invents the escalator. NO

1892—Rudolf Diesel invents the diesel-fueled internal combustion engine, which he patents six years later. NO

1892—Sir James Dewar invents the Dewar vacuum flask. NO

1893—W.L. Judson invents the zipper. NO (zippers didn’t become popular globally until a little bit later; buttons, ribbons/laces and whatever else were still the norm/in fashion for fastening and tying (which is still the case in some places today)

1895—Brothers Auguste and Louis Lumière invent a portable motion-picture camera that doubles as a film-processing unit and projector. The invention is called the Cinematographe and using it, the Lumières project the motion picture for an audience. NO?

1899—J.S. Thurman patents the motor-driven vacuum cleaner. NO (if you're running from being killed, the last thing you're going to bring is a vacuum cleaner)

I remember a post listing the sort of jobs there would be in Encanto but I forgot so I’ll just list the ones I know (let me know if I need to add anything.):

Seamstress/tailor

Embellisher

Field worker

Teacher (of any kind; music, dance, art, etc)

Woodworker - wood carver

Toy maker

Construction worker

Joining a Local band/ Orchestra - being apart of a choir

Carpenter

Metal worker

Jeweler (though I’m not sure if Jewelery of the diamond/gem kind is common in Encanto)

bladesmith/ knifemaker

Inventor? (Inventors should exist in Encanto by now…just one other genius besides Mirabel?)

I know some of these are very obvious but I’m just giving people options okay?

@miracles-and-butterflies you seem to know a lot more about this kind of stuff so if you have anything to add/take away or me to fix please let me know. I tried to search up “When was X invention imported into Colombia” and literally nothing of use comes up.

#camilo madrigal #bruno madrigal #mirabel madrigal #dolores madrigal #antonio madrigal #isabela madrigal #pepa madrigal #encanto 2021 #encanto au #encanto fanfic

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visit-new-york · 1 year

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The Williamsburg Bridge stands as both a historical treasure and a vital component of New York City's modern infrastructure. Its rich history, architectural significance, and ongoing role in transportation continue to make it a cherished and enduring symbol of the city.

Tributes and Memorials: Like many iconic structures, the Williamsburg Bridge has been the site of various tributes and memorials. Over the years, it has been used as a backdrop for events honoring individuals or commemorating significant historical events.

Public Transportation Hub: The Williamsburg Bridge has also played a role in public transportation beyond automobiles and bicycles. It has been used by buses, and subway lines run beneath it. The J, M, and Z subway lines pass through the bridge's underground tracks, offering additional transit options for commuters.

Public Space: The bridge's pedestrian and bicycle pathways provide unique public spaces for residents and visitors. These paths offer stunning views of the city and are often used for leisurely walks, jogging, and recreational cycling.

Maintenance Challenges: The maintenance and preservation of a historic bridge like Williamsburg present significant challenges. Engineering teams continually work to address structural issues, corrosion, and wear and tear while preserving the bridge's architectural and historical integrity.

Historical Documentation: The Williamsburg Bridge has been the subject of historical documentation and research. Engineers, architects, and historians have studied its construction, design, and evolution as part of their efforts to understand its significance within the broader context of urban infrastructure.

Community Identity: For residents of Williamsburg in Brooklyn, the bridge serves as a symbol of their neighborhood and community identity. It connects them to job opportunities and cultural attractions in Manhattan while contributing to the unique character of Williamsburg.

Environmental Considerations: In recent years, there has been a growing focus on the environmental impact of transportation infrastructure. Efforts have been made to make the bridge more sustainable, such as by exploring energy-efficient lighting options and ways to reduce its carbon footprint.

Architectural Details: The bridge's towers and support structures feature intricate architectural details, including decorative elements and motifs that reflect the design sensibilities of the era in which it was built. These details contribute to its status as an architectural landmark.

Public Safety: Safety measures, including surveillance cameras and regular inspections, are in place to ensure the safety of those using the bridge. Additionally, traffic management strategies help mitigate congestion and ensure the smooth flow of vehicles.

Cultural Diversity: The areas connected by the Williamsburg Bridge, namely Manhattan's Lower East Side and Brooklyn's Williamsburg neighborhood, have long been known for their cultural diversity. The bridge has played a role in facilitating the movement of people from different backgrounds, contributing to the rich tapestry of New York City.

Economic Impact on Williamsburg: The bridge has had a profound impact on the economic development of Williamsburg, Brooklyn. As it made transportation to Manhattan more accessible, it attracted businesses and residents to the area, spurring economic growth and transformation.

Post-9/11 Security Measures: After the September 11, 2001, terrorist attacks, security measures were heightened on many critical infrastructure elements, including bridges. The Williamsburg Bridge received increased security attention to protect against potential threats.

Art Installations: The bridge has been the site of various temporary art installations and performances. These artistic endeavors often celebrate the bridge's history and its role as a cultural and architectural landmark.

Historical Preservation Organizations: Organizations such as the Historic Districts Council and the Municipal Art Society of New York have been actively involved in advocating for the preservation of the Williamsburg Bridge and other historic landmarks throughout the city.

Future Enhancements: Urban planners and city officials continue to explore ways to enhance the Williamsburg Bridge and improve its accessibility, safety, and sustainability. This includes potential upgrades to its pedestrian and cyclist facilities and consideration of modern transportation trends.

Emergency Services Access: The bridge plays a critical role in providing emergency services access to both Manhattan and Brooklyn. First responders rely on it to reach areas quickly during emergencies or natural disasters.

Educational Significance: The Williamsburg Bridge is often used as an educational resource, allowing students and researchers to learn about bridge engineering, urban history, and the evolution of transportation infrastructure.

Community Engagement: Local communities on both sides of the bridge have been actively engaged in discussions about its future and any potential changes. Public input and community involvement are essential aspects of maintaining and preserving this iconic structure.

The Williamsburg Bridge continues to be a symbol of New York City's enduring spirit, resilience, and innovation. Its historical, cultural, and economic significance makes it a beloved part of the city's landscape, and it remains a vital link between two bustling boroughs.

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anxious-lee · 4 months

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A Sudden Diversion - A Lackadaisy Tickle Fic

Lee: Freckle

Lers: Ivy and Rocky

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Evidently, plowing an automobile through several thickets and insisting it is a "short-cut" is dangerous.

This may have been a revelation to Rocky, but Freckle could have told him that from the beginning. In fact, he tried.

Yet, here they were: in the Lackadaisy's cluttered garage, mending the battering inflicted on their poor vehicle. The car was nicked and scratched from the shrubbery, not unlike its occupants. The engine compartment would have been just fine had the frenzied tom Rocky not rammed it into a tree's trunk. All in all, the damages were unnecessary and very expensive. To say that Miss Mitzi was peeved at the three stooges would be an understatement. Due to the speakeasy's lack of adequate funds, the car's repairs would need to be done by Rocky, Ivy, and Freckle, as reparations for ruining the car in the first place. Freckle supposed that being placed on mechanic duty wasn't the worst punishment Miss Mitzi could have dealt. Although, if anyone should have to be saddled with this chore, it should be Rocky. He's the one who made the mess in the first place.

But, perhaps it was for the best. It was safer in the garage than it was out there on the liquor-lined battlefield.

All three colleagues sat, working away silently. Or rather, almost silently, as Rocky could only take the deafening quiet for so long before he broke out into a hum. Some tune that neither Freckle nor Ives recognized. The musician himself was made useful by patching up the old paint job, while the two lovers dug through their toolbox, looking for the appropriate equipment to repair the engine.

Freckle had seen plenty of danger in his lifetime with his cousin. Hell, toughing through peril was practically his best trait as an officer in training. But each adventure wore down a little bit more of his psyche. And some nights, like tonight, there was nothing left to wear.

He was exhausted, both from the team's little excursion and the mental power it took not to have a panic attack.

Ivy, who sat at his right, learned over time to recognize these feelings through observation. Because odds were, Freckle wouldn't say it directly. She could pretty much discern and dissect every Freckle frown.

She was gonna make him smile.

She began with a little smirk of her own.

"Car maintenance isn't the peachiest job in the world, but at least we get some quality time together," Ivy said, batting her eyelids.

Brought out of his daze by the sudden sound of her voice, Freckle glanced up at Ivy quickly. He couldn't help but smile sheepishly at her flirtatious remarks.

But Ivy wasn't going to stop there.

"Y'know, I hardly ever get to witness you in your element. Tinkering away with your gadgets, and gizmos, and... whosiwhatsits, " she finished with a flippant backhand toward the toolbox.

Freckle seemed bashful to turn bashful at that.

"Oh. I'm no professional. My mum taught me everything I know, and when it became just me and her in that house, I had to step in and help with the maintenance. If I'm being honest, I'm more familiar with the back-end of a kitchen sink than I am with motor vehicle repair," he cringed.

"Relentlessly humble, as always," Rocky piped in suddenly, "Ol' Freckle Face never could take a compliment, however deserved or warranted."

"Yeah! C'mon McMurray, you're doing most of the heavy lifting here! Little did Miss M. know that when she hired a gunman, she also hired a handyman," said Ivy.

The extra attention was getting to Freckle, so much so that he hadn't noticed when his cheeks began to burn hot.

"It's really not a big deal-"

"I'll say it is, and no take-backsies!" Ivy declared. For emphasis, she burrowed a single claw into his armpit.

Freckle tittered softly and tilted his body away from his attacker.

"Kheehehe, quit it," he near-whispered.

"What will you do if I dont?" Ivy dared playfully.

What to answer with, Freckle hadn't the faintest. His upturned mouth opened and shut a few times, hoping that the perfect reasoning would spring from his lips at any moment. Finally, he spoke.

"We're not gohonna finish our wohork," he retorted lamely.

"Oh yeah? Is that what it is you're scared of? The job?" purred Ivy. She once again buried her pointer claw into the crook of his underarm. It took some more digging than the first time due to Freckle's attempts to keep his arm flat against his side. When she settled into her target, she scritched everywhere she could reach.

"Yehes!" Freckle said, much louder and desperate than he intended. He was squirming a little more now, bent in a seventy-degree angle, but still holding down his position. The first giggle, he couldn't control. The second, third, and fourth, however, he was determined to swallow down. His lips pressed into a wobbly smile, hoping that if he didn't laugh, she wouldn't continue.

That only made her tickle harder.

"You trying to hold it in? Good luck, 'cause my little brothers tried the same trick, and it did not last long," warned Ivy.

And it was true. Before long, his firmly shut lips did nothing to prevent his giggles from escaping. They sounded more like pleaful whimpers.

It wasn't that Freckle hated her little games, but succumbing to something so childish as tickling was easier said than done. Not to mention the fact that they were in public, where any one of the speakeasy's employees could walk in on them.

Within a matter of seconds, Ivy brought both claws into both armpits and was tickling away.

Freckle gave a laugh of surprise, a notch louder than before. He knew there was no fighting her now. The tingly electricity on both sides of his body overtook him, and he slid to the floor, with his back pressed against it. Ivy followed, now hooked by his incredible laughter.

"You crazy kids ought to keep your hands off of each other. Otherwise, people might get the idea that you two are les amoureux," Rocky called from his place at the car, voice shining with sarcasm. He was watching them now and smirking unsympathetically at his troubled cousin.

"We are les amoureux, Rocky," Ivy called back.

For some reason, Ivy holding a conversation with Rocky while Freckle was underneath her laughing pitifully was making the sensation worse. As his face burned brighter, Freckle turned his head away from her in an attempt to save himself the embarrassment of having her look upon his cheesy face.

"Awh~! Poor boy is embarrassed!" Ivy cooed, taking one hand away from his arm and cupping his cheek with it, pulling his face back to her.

"You are practically burning up!" she gasped, "Are you blushing~?"

The saints above could not help poor Freckle now.

He didn't grace that question with an answer and instead whined through his laughter. This could not get more humiliating.

"I missed that big smile! And that laugh. I love it when you laugh. It's so cute!" the feisty woman squealed.

"Nohoho, it's nohohot!" Freckle squealed louder. His paws, which had been tucked in like T-Rex arms to his chest, were now covering everywhere on his face he could reach.

"It's a shame that me admiring you flusters you so terribly, because I'm not going to stop any time soon. You're all mine to adore, Calvin McMurray~"

Holy hell.

The teasing's subject cried out in ticklish agony and released a new wave of laughter.

"This would be easier if- you know- I'll think I'll just- there we go!" Ivy maneuvered herself to sit behind Freckle's head while she pinned his hands under her knees. Now he was on full display, with no hope of saving his dignity.

"Tickle, tickle, tickle~" she teased as both hands came back down to lightly skitter over and across his belly. Freckle laughed uproariously, unable to hold anything back, his pure-hearted cackle ringing out throughout the garage.

It was almost more than he could bear.

Almost.

"DOHOHONT SAHAY THAT!"

"Why not?"

"IT MAHAKES IT WOHORSE!"

"Ah, good tip! Definitely will be making use out of this. Kitchee kitchee kitchee kitchee coo~!"

Ivy moved her paws towards his hips, squeezing them faster than was merciful.

Freckle's laugh deepened in pitch immediately, sounding more like a maniacal cackle.

"Pretty good targets, Miss Pepper, but you're neglecting some key players in this game of torture!" said Rocky.

"It's not torture! He's fine! Aren't you, sweetie?"

Freckle almost said no, but he was too busy laughing. Laughing from an attack he let happen. If he really detested it, he could have ended this from the beginning, and he knew that. But there was no real danger here. Not with Ivy. Not with Rocky, either. He knew they would never hurt him.

Nevertheless, when one is being pinned down and tickled stupid, the only thought your mind will allow is 'STOP'.

Rocky strode over to Ivy's side and looked down at his cousin.

"Me and Freckle used to get into many a battle such as these when we were little tykes. I triumphed them all, naturally, and I still remember his spots," the tomcat gave Ivy a wink and planted himself on Freckle's legs. "You go for the neck, I'll go for the knees."

"ROHOCKY!!" cried Freckle, betrayed.

"Ooo! Those are good ones!" cheered Ivy.

"ISN'T AHANYONE GOING TO WOHORK ON THE CAHAHAR?!"

"No", they both replied.

They began their double team attack on Freckle's tickle spots. Ivy went to work fluttering in every crevice of his neck, while Rocky rubbed and squeezed his kneecaps, occasionally giving a swift scribble to the undersides.

Freckle couldn't believe how absurd this scenario was. Here he was, now shrieking and giggling shrilly like a small child, while his two closest teammates were tickling him to pieces. He didn't bother to question it any more, simply surrendering to his silly fate and taking the opportunity to let everything go. He had been harboring so much guilt and anxiety over the past few days. Over the past few weeks even. What better time to abandon all sensible thought, what better time to look away from his reality of crime and war, what better time to simply be with his friends, safe and at peace, then now?

But he still needed to breathe, so Ivy let up and released his hands from her hold. Rocky dismounted from his legs and backed away cheerily to give the man some space.

Freckle immediately wrapped his arms around his waist and tucked his legs into himself, tail swishing wildly as he let out his remaining chuckles. As he caught his breath, he looked up at Ivy.

Ivy's expression was kind. "You feeling ok?"

Freckle couldn't stop grinning, and it wasn't from the tickles.

"Y-yeah," he sighed in relief.

"Yes, good man, laughing yourself up a storm, now come on, let's take a break from the car and head to the bar downstairs!" said Rocky.

"You mean after the break we just took from our work?" Ivy smirked.

"I don't know about you two, but all this horseplay has worked up my thirst. Whadd'ya say, Baby Face? Want to grab a beer?" Rocky reached a hand down to help him up.

Freckle was repulsed by the idea of drinking alcohol himself, but Rocky knew that as well, using it as a conversational turn of phrase.

The orange cat softened in agreement.

"Sure."

Rock wasted no time in trotting out the door, hungry for an ice cold scotch.

The two stragglers, now alone, slowly followed behind. As they walked, Ivy stretched an experimental pinkie out to Freckle's. He wasted no time in linking his paw with hers and pulling her to his side.

Not the worst of punishments, indeed.

-------

You know what, I eventually got hungry enough for lackadaisy fic that I wrote one myself. I haven't completed a fic in well over a year, but this franchise is beyond inspiring enough to birth this fic ❤️

@veryblushyswitch @someone1348 @kasey-writes-stuff @ticklyfluffstuff

#tickle #tickles #tickling #ticklish #tickle community #lee talks #tickle fic #lackadaisy tickles #lee!freckle #ler!ivy #ler!rocky

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thegeorgetelegraph · 3 months

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The Basics of a Car Design Training

Automobile engineering colleges dedicate a lot of time teaching students about the importance of the same. Automobile engineering jobs focused on research and development would entail these factors for sure.

#Automobile engineering #Diploma in automobile engineering #Automobile engineering jobs #Automobile engineering colleges #automobile engineering course #Best automobile engineering college #automobile training institute #learn automobile course #learn automobile engineering #automobile course #automobile repairing course #automobile mechanic training #automotive engineering courses

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rudnitskaia · 18 days

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What can you tell us about Sebastian?! O.O

My newest hyperfixation?

HEYYYYYYY MITYYYYYYYYYYY 💖💖💖 Thank you for the ask, broski. ✨ So, let me introduce you

SEBASTIAN RIVA

Sebastian Riva is the younger of two sons of Leone Riva. He is almost four years younger than Mau, so in 1927 Sebastian is 18.

(Little reminder: Leone Riva is the best friend of Augusto Venza since their childhood, and it was him who invited the Venza family to move to New York from Turin. I mentioned him in Augusto’s bio here.)

Unlike his older brother Paolo, Seb is as far away as possible from his father's illegal business and the underworld in general. In a way, Sebastian and Maura are similar; both are driven by natural curiosity, but this trait manifested itself in both of them in different ways. Seb is the kind of child who will destroy take apart all the devices in the house to see how they work, and who will fidget in his chair, thinking how these complicated things can be improved. He's especially attracted to automobiles. If he didn't have to eat and sleep, he probably wouldn't leave the garage. And to capture all his discoveries he had a little hobby in the form of drawing.

Fun fact: Seb inherited the entrepreneurial drive of his ancestors and in his youth was already well off with money, drawing erotic pictures almost to the whole neighborhood. 😂 For this he got a few hits with a broom from Mau, but Seb managed to literally buy her silence with 10% of his profits. 🤣

In 1927, Sebastian entered university and began studying engineering. There he continued to draw for money, but this time not only naked bodies, but mostly course works on drafting for other students. Subsequently, he successfully got a job at an automobile factory and married a racer, for whom he, among other engineers, improved the racing bolide. He was head over heels in love with this girl and was so zealous to meet her that he almost threw himself under her wheels. As we already know, in the end he got her favor, and has never regretted it for all the long years of his life.

I think the guy hit the lifetime jackpot. Let's be happy for him. x))

TL;DR

#tysm for the ask sunshine <333 #i cackled so much while discovering his personality xDD #aghostnamedcalamity #heldig arts #lackadaisy #lackadaisy oc #sebastian riva oc #leone riva oc #augusto venza oc #maura venza oc #lackadaisyoc #lackadaisyocs #lackadaisy ocs

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seat-safety-switch · 1 year

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Believe me, nobody was more jazzed about my interview with Consumer Reports than me. I grew up as a kid reading its dry, dry prose, dreaming about the day when I, too, would get to smash the living shit out of consumer appliances until they fell apart. Savagery would flow through my pen, dismantling multinational corporations for the capital crime of having made a dishwasher with buttons that scratch easily.

I had been "funemployed" for quite some time. In fact, I'd been without a job for so long that my parole officer told me I had to go get one, otherwise they would put me back in the hole. So, I decided to go out on a limb and write Consumer Reports about all the torture testing I'd been doing to my half-century-old menagerie of shitboxes. A few minutes after I sent the email, I got a breathless, panicked phone call from the head destructive testing engineer, who told me to get on a fucking plane and head out there pronto.

Plane? Plane? I made a solemn vow in my youth to never get in an automobile driven by anyone else. And even though it flies through the air using what I think is an elaborate series of lies, an airplane certainly qualifies. I cashed the plane ticket in for gas money, and then set out for a road trip in my most reliable 1978 Volare, its trunk packed full of spare fluids, tires, and parts, almost none of which I had to use.

There was just one problem. Their headquarters are located in a pretty weird spot of an industrial park. One of those big skyscrapers-on-skyscrapers places where nobody lives, and the food sucks, but there are thousands of parking spots. They all look the same, and I think I transposed a digit in the address when I was punching it into my GPS (a Garmin from 1997, whose speaker barely works and whose power supply consists of an absurd number of ganged-together solar panels that I broke out of desk calculators.) When I turned up, the building looked like any of the other ones in the complex, so I went on in.

The good news? I got the job. The bad news? The good folks at Kitchenaid were so terrified about how aggressively I dismantled their test blender that my job is "being paid to stay at least 100 feet away from any and all Kitchenaid employees, at all times." It pays pretty well, though, which is to their credit. I think it's because I made a good first impression. And second. And third. They really should have made those chopping-blade impellers out of a better plastic.

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noodleblade · 5 months

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holiday idea~ kobd seeing snow for the first time

I wrote the majority of this within an hour of you sending this and then I forgot to edit it for a week dncfkjsfksnfksf ;---; BUT I hope you like some cute, dumbie fluff:3

Ao3 Link X

Knock Out stared out into the white abyss with piecing skepticism.

“I think it's just water, K.O.,” Breakdown muttered beside him.

“But we don’t know that,” Knock Out hissed.

Beneath the metal awning, he was safe. Cold- over the course of this flesh planet’s night cycle dark clouds dropped the temperatures to a frigid chill and unleashed this white… something -but safe. They had just wanted some shelter from the night, but now they were trapped, stuck beneath the thin metal roof for who knows how long. What if it collapsed? The white flecks looked weightless but Knock Out could see how they had piled around them, their exact weight unknowable. What if the roof fell in and they were crushed? What if the white dustings were infectious? Sickly? What if-

“Only one way to find out,” Breakdown hummed with a mild rev of his engine.

“Wait-” Knock Out protested, but it was too late. Breakdown released his brakes, rolling forward. His protective, pleasant warmth went with him and Knock Out shivered as he could only watch in fearful agony.

Breakdown’s wheels hit the white piles with a squish , flecks landing on his roof.

Breakdown froze and Knock Out felt his spark drop as his partner sat immobile, windows fogging as the cold crept up his frame.

“Breakdown?” Knock Out whispered before trying again louder, more insistent, “ Breakdown.”

A loud, rumbling laugh rolled out of his partner before Knock Out saw him shift, pulling out of his alt to stand. Breakdown spun on his pedes, arms wide as he flashed Knock Out a grin.

“It’s safe!”

Knock Out remained still beneath the safety of his tin shelter, eyeing the flecks land and melt? on Breakdown’s chassis.

“Then what is it?”

“I don’t know,” Breakdown admitted. He held his palm out watching as the little specks landed and disappeared into tiny puddles. “I think it's frozen water.”

Knock Out wasn’t too sure about that. It wouldn’t be a complete surprise. After all, they had already witnessed on multiple occasions as water dropped from the sky above, dumping across the land. The inhabitants of this planet seemed unworried about it, crafting little plastic shields to cover their helms. The shelter he was in now served as a protective measure for their automobiles, though it didn’t solve the issue of the water pooling at his tires. Nevertheless, the frozen water did not reassure Knock Out in the slightest.

“Think of all the water stains,” Knock Out winced. His finish was already in desperate need of a detailing. He didn’t need to ruin it further.

Breakdown hummed an acknowledgement but his attention was focused on a particularly large clump of the white frozen water. He reached for it, servo hissing as the heat of his frame met the icy cluster. Once his frame matched the temperature, Breakdown was able to pick up a palm sized clump. With a minimal amount of patting, he was about to mold it into a spherical ball.

“You can hold it?” Breakdown said in awe.

“Put that down!” Knock Out yelped, panic edging his words. “You don’t know if it is safe! It could seep to the protoform! You don’t know what that is-“

“I’m fine, Doc,” Breakdown’s smile was gentle as he crushed the clump in his palm and dropped what little remained solid. “It’s just water. The organics wouldn’t leave their stuff out if it was bad.”

Knock Out could see several cars blanketed in the supposed icy water. Logically, he could see Breakdown’s point, but he still couldn’t bear the idea of what it would do to his precious paint job.

“Come on, K.O.,” Breakdown tried again, coming closer to Knock Out’s feeble little shelter. “Just touch it. And-” Breakdown continued over the warning rev of Knock Out’s engine “-I’ll personally detail you when we get back to the Nemesis. The whole package: wash, buff, wax . I can even touch up your flames.”

Knock Out couldn’t say he wasn’t tempted. Just the possibility of the warmth of the Nemesis and Breakdown’s hands on him almost was enough to make him disengage his brakes. However…

“You already promised me that when we took this little road trip,” Knock Out reminded him, not without a slight, teasing purr in his voice. If he played his cards right… “You’re going to have to do better than that, Darling.”

“Spoiled brat,” Breakdown grinned back, his laughter bubbling up. “You know I’ll do whatever you want.”

The words had barely left Breakdown’s mouth before Knock Out fired off his request. If he had to suffer in this icy, wet mess for Breakdown then, “I get to detail you. For as long as I want.”

Breakdown blinked, his helm cocking to the side in contemplation. “Really?”

“Mmm,” Knock Out hummed, his engine purring along. “We can do each other. ‘Make a whole night of it. What do you say?”

It was rare Breakdown would let him, far too concerned with looking out for Knock Out. Which was a cover. Breakdown had admitted once that he felt he didn’t deserve it . Knock Out had been waiting for a chance to prove him wrong.

“If that’s what you want,” Breakdown murmured, his voice almost shy about the concept.

“You act like you don’t want my hands all over you.”

“I didn’t say that.” Breakdown turned his gaze back to Knock Out’s windshield. “Not that you’ll get to if you remain cooped up under there.”

“So we have a deal?” Knock Out asked, making sure his brake unlocked with a loud click.

“We always have a deal, Doc.”

#kobd #knock out #breakdown #tfp #transformers #anonymous #asks #my fics

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