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#wagon-vaulted
qzlzlmoszg · 1 year
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His girlfriend and friend cheating sex Maria del mar lo vuelve a hacer medellin prepago universitaria de la de antioquia Gostosa traindo corno de sjc Finger Fuckers Nina Elle and Nicky Ferrari Bang Aubrey Gold! Busty granny sucks and gets doggystyled Good boy points taboo mommy son POV virtual sex Julia Taylor Cumshots Negona peladinha recebendo um cheio de nervo Dirty ts girl can hardly wait to ride a flawless fucktool 看著我 淫蕩點(台灣)
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pourablecat · 1 year
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Thinking of Back to the Future again! I've been dreaming of recreating the skateboard sequence somehow since I was ten. Sounds like a great way to get horribly injured, and then arrested. You see, technically Vimes is the time traveller here and technically saying Ooh Look behind you, punching a bully in the face and running off via skateboard is more of a Vimesian move, and this same scene would've worked out very well with the unmentionables and a proper carriage, but I really just wanted to draw young Vetinari on a skateboard. Or proto-skateboard. Whatever.
I've swapped out Bill's Ford Coupe for a random wagon a younger and slightly less mature Downey nicked from a street corner or something, Marty with a blurry little Vetinari who even now seems to be making an active effort to be invisible, all the 1950s bullies with assassins hell-bent to stab out Dog-Botherer's fingers, and the skateboard with... gods know what.
You know what? Maybe I drew Vetinari skateboarding instead of Vimes because the idea of Madam watching from the crowd, going blushy and saying "He's an absolute dream" felt horribly, horribly cursed. I don't think I could handle being constantly reminded of that as I draw :P
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goosewriting · 1 year
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Wherever you go, I go
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summary: after reader and Cal are rescued from Bracca, reader questions whether they know him at all.
relationship: Cal Kestisx GN reader
warnings: none!, a tiny bit of angst sprinkled in there but mainly fluff
word count: 4.4k
A/N: i have the Cal Kestis Brain WormsTM and they will not leave me alone sdfsdfd this follows the first part of the game on Bogano pretty closely but not to 100% 
Navigation: Part 1 (you're here) | Part 2 | Part 3
(english is not my first language. constructive criticism and grammar corrections are very appreciated!)
— — —
You breathe in Bogano’s humid air deeply into your lungs as you stretch your back, stepping out of the ship onto the soft grass. The last 24 hours have been wild.
Around two years ago, you had ended up on Bracca, where you met Cal. You were both around the same age and Prauf had taken a liking to you both, so he had ended up introducing you to the redhead when you were new. They showed you the ropes of the place, how to properly use the machinery and tools, and pretty much everything you needed to know to be a scrapper. 
You had been dealt a bad hand early in life; it wasn’t without reason that you ended up on a planet like Bracca after all. You were on your own, needed a job, and the bounty on your head didn’t make it easy to hide, so you had to disappear. 
And yet, after everything that happened, you can’t help but think that it wasn’t all so bad, in hindsight at least. Because after leaving behind everything you knew, adopting a new name and taking the first ship to “as far as way as possible” from your homeplanet, it was like the universe dropped you right into Cal’s arms. Or at least that’s how you liked to think about it.
Ever since then, Cal and you became pretty much inseparable. In each other you found the friend and peer you needed right then. You were both pretty secretive about your lives thus far, but you knew that if there was anyone you’d trust on that heap of scraps, it was Cal for sure.
As time went on, you grew ever closer. You ended up telling him about how you had been on the run and needed to lay low for some time. Even if he didn’t tell you much about where he was from, you knew that if he wanted to tell you, he would, on his own time. And you were okay with that. You tried not to make up your own stories about him in your head, yet sometimes you couldn’t help but wonder. Whatever backstory your mind came up with though, never in a thousand years would you have believed the truth if he had told you, which you learned later and saw with your own eyes.
You think back to how that day had started and gone by normally, everyone working on their own thing. It was only on the train ride home that you noticed how weird Prauf was acting, and he and Cal were having a talk in hushed whispers, looking around nervously. You had made a mental note then to ask the readhead what happened later on, but you’d never get to that. 
From the moment the train stopped and Stormtroopers escorted you all out to line up, everything happened so fast; the Inquisitors talking about a Jedi traitor in your rows, Cal suddenly taking out a lightsaber, Prauf being killed, the whole train chase… Your memories are foggy, and you’re not sure if it’s because you’re having a hard time wrapping your mind around everything that’s happened, or if it’s because you understand exactly what trespassed, but are unwilling to accept it. For now, at least.
Cal had somehow managed to get you out of there, falling onto moving wagons, and ushering you to go on. He fought off the scary Inquisitor lady while you cowered away. Then a mysterious ship came to your aid, bringing Cal and you to safety. 
And now it turns out this Cere person needs Cal to go to a… vault of sorts? Because he is actually a Jedi, and needs to pass a test to help her on a mission.
Truly, what a wild 24 hours it has been.
Now on the swampy planet, you somehow convinced Cal to let you tag along. You really don’t want to leave him on his own right now, and to be honest, you also don’t want to be left alone with Cere and the Latero. You aren’t even sure yet if you can trust them. This whole situation is just… too much right now.
So off you go with Cal, making your way towards the first cliff in silence, breathing in the clean air and taking in the sight. Little creatures with big eyes hop around and out of your way, looking at you curiously. As you reach a drop, Cal jumps first, helping you down. 
When your feet meet the ground, you don’t let go of his gloved hand just yet. He gives you a questioning look.
“It’s the first time in a while that I’ve been off-planet,” you remark with a smile. “It’s so silent out here. I had almost forgotten what that’s like.”
“Yeah, it’s been a while for me too,” Cal says. “It’s nice out here.”
You two just look at each other for a moment, suddenly aware that it’s the first time in a long time that you’re alone, hidden from prying eyes. And there’s also the bantha in the room of Cal being a Jedi. 
“Thank you, by the way,” you speak genuinely. “For… taking me with you, and not leaving me behind.”
“I already lost a friend,” Cal says, and you see the hurt cross his face for a moment. “I wasn’t gonna let them take you too.”
‘Friend,’ you think, and bitterly smile to yourself as Cal turns and keeps walking, without letting go of your hand though. You look at where he holds you, heat starting to spread on your cheeks. You’re painfully aware that your feelings for him have developed into more. You’re not quite sure when it started, but they were solid. And as strange as it was, Cal being a Jedi suddenly seems like the last piece to a puzzle. Everything falls into place, finally making sense. It actually suits him, somehow. And you understand why he didn’t tell you. The memory comes back of how he fought with his lightsaber, and how good he looked while doing that. You shake your head, trying to rid yourself of those thoughts. You were actually planning on confessing at some point, but that just got pushed way further into the future. There’s more pressing matters right now.
You don’t want to force Cal to talk about his past or his abilities, but you do have to talk about what your plan is. Not entirely sure how to approach the subject, you start formulating some questions in your mind, trying to find the best way to word them. You don’t get to ask him though because Cal stops at the base of another cliff, removing his hand from yours, which you miss immediately. 
“This seems like a good place to meditate,” he remarks, more to himself than to him.
“Meditate?” you ask.
“Ah, yeah,” Cal says and kneels down onto the ground. “To, you know, connect with the Force. It’ll take just a minute.” 
And with that, he closes his eyes and starts evening out his breathing. You look at him for a moment, then decide to sit on a rock a couple steps to the side. It doesn't take long and Cal’s face starts twitching lightly, his brows furrowing. Wherever he is, you hope he’s alright. 
You watch him a little longer, then avert your gaze as you realise you’re just shamelessly staring at this point. Taking in your surroundings a little better, you take note of the rocks and their curious colouration, with several shades of reds and browns between the white layers.
Suddenly you hear little, mechanical steps approaching, so you stand up and turn around, your body getting tense in a fight or flight moment. But you immediately relax as you see a curious little droid approaching the two of you. It looks at you, then at Cal, and stands in front of him, seemingly waiting for the redhead to come out of his meditation.
Cal’s breathing starts growing shallow, with the slightest of whimpers, and you want to reach out to him, asking if he’s okay, but you’re not sure if it’s safe to interrupt his meditation. So you just sit next to the droid, who gives you a look and a beep you can’t quite understand; you’ve never been fluent in binary. 
With one last pant Cal finally opens his eyes and is met with your worried gaze and the droid. 
“You good?” you ask him.
“Yeah, I’m okay,” he answers, and gestures to the droid with his chin. “Who’s that?”
“Oh, he joined in earlier. Looks like he was waiting for you to react,” you explain and the beeps sound like agreement to you.
“He says his name is BD-1,” Cal translates, then introduces you both to the little droid. BD gives another series of beep-boops.
“We’re looking for someone,” Cal answers, and BD beeps excitedly. “No, not you,” Cal says with a chuckle. “We’re searching for a Jedi. I think.”
BD jumps with a series of quick beeps, and hurries off.
“Hold on, you know the Jedi?” Cal asks and stands up. “Hold on!” he calls after the droid who is running ahead, and tells you to follow him.
You two navigate through the landscape of floating rocks and cliffs, following BD. He brings you to what seems to be a long abandoned hiding place. As you have to walk over a big pipe to get there, BD arrives first, and gets attacked by a rather ugly, maggot looking creature that was burrowing underground, and you see some sparks fly. Cal rushes to his help, getting rid of the creature and its friends with his lightsaber.
“BD! Are you okay?” you ask the droid, picking him up to inspect his leg, which is pretty busted. He beeps sadly. 
Cal joins you, taking a look at the droid to check out the damage, and you can’t help your heart skipping a beat at how he’s standing behind you, looking over your shoulder, and you feel the warmth radiating off of him. BD tilts his head at you for a second but you choose to ignore it, trying to convince yourself that droids can’t pick up on that kinda thing. 
“That was pretty brave,” Cal says to BD as he takes the droid from your arms. “And hey, I can help you with that…”
He brings BD over to a workbench, quickly fixing up the mechanical leg. BD seems to run some damage analysis as he stares straight ahead, then beeps at Cal.
“The vault?” he asks. “Yeah, that’s where we’re headed, too. Let’s go.”
“Uhm, what’s happening?” you ask, following behind the other two.
“BD says we have to go to the vault. He said he knows a Jedi, so, I’m guessing that’s where we’ll find them.”
“So… BD is a friend, yes?” you question further, lowering your voice so the droid doesn’t hear you.
“Yeah,” Cal answers, looking after BD that is rushing ahead to show the way. “I hope so…”
Trying to find a way out of the place, you two squeeze through a barely open door. There’s a hallway that could be your exit, but it’s blocked by some thick cables. You’re too late to notice Cal swinging his lightsaber at them; they’re clearly sparking. Before you’re able to stop him, he gets zapped and thrown back. You rush to his side.
“By the Maker, Cal, are you okay?” you ask, checking him for injuries. 
“I- I’m okay,” he groans, as he sits up. 
You’re about to give him an earful about being reckless when BD rushes to Cal’s side, offering a healing stim canister from a little slot on his cubic head. 
“A stim?” Cal asks as he inspects the vial. Looking up at you, he offers you the object with a lopsided smile; you’ve always been the one to patch him up. 
You playfully roll your eyes at him, taking the stim and stabbing it into his upper arm. 
“That’s better,” Cal sighs, and you help him get back to his feet.
“Thanks, little droid,” you say to BD, and he beeps happily.
“Let’s try that again,” Cal mutters, and you give his shoulder a squeeze.
“Without getting hurt this time, please,” you instruct, to which he chuckles, and you let him go. But BD is now holding onto his leg, beeping. Cal lifts him up and swings him over his shoulder, where the droid settles, and you see the happy little shimmy, which internally makes you go “aaw”. It really is an adorable sight. 
The three of you continue your journey to the vault mainly in silence. Cal makes a little conversation with the droid from time to time. You can’t understand everything but it seems that BD doesn’t remember how he got here.
At one point you get to what seems to be the last stretch towards the vault. You wonder how you will get across that narrow space, which essentially is just vertical, rough walls, in mid-air. You turn to Cal, about to voice your concerns, when you see that he touches the wall, and his eyes glaze over, staring beyond the walls into nothingness.
Is he… meditating again? 
You wait a couple of seconds, but he remains unmoving. Reaching up, you give his arm a gentle squeeze. 
“With persistence…” he mumbles, shaking his head slightly, seemingly coming back from wherever he was.
“Hey, you okay?” you ask him, stepping in front of him to have him meet your eyes.
“Yeah, all good. Just remembering old tricks…” he replies.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” 
“I just saw my… my old Master,” Cal explains with a slight shudder. “I was remembering my training, as a Padawan.”
Padawans. Jedi Masters. The Force. Those are all names you’ve heard growing up, but you never got to see one for yourself. You were too young to understand what was going on when the Clone Wars ended, but you did hear the stories. Some fantastical, others straight out of a horror holomovie.  
“Listen,” Cal speaks softly, taking both your hands in his, and your heart flutters as you look up at him. “I know this must be all so weird to you, and I promise I will explain everything. Just… I have to do this.”
“Do you though?” you counter. “What happened was awful but it was our ticket off of Bracca.” ‘We can start over again. Together’ is what you want to say, but it doesn’t seem like the appropriate time. “Why are you listening to a stranger?”
Cal hesitates for a second.
“It’s hard to explain,” he starts. “There’s just something coming from that vault, it’s like it’s calling out to me. I know you probably don’t understand, but please, trust me on this,” he almost pleads. “If anything is off, we’re leaving, I promise. But if there’s another Jedi… I need to know.”
You don’t trust Cere, or Greez. Maybe even BD, not yet at least. But you trust Cal. So you nod. 
“Just promise me one thing,” you insist. “Warn me when you’re about to meditate or think about your old Master. It’s a bit scary when you’re just… gone like that.”
“I will,” he promises with a smile, giving your hands one last squeeze before letting go.
“So,” you say after a while, looking at the vault which is so close, yet so far. “How are we getting there?”
Cal gives BD a sly glance, then looks back at you with that stupid grin you’ve grown to love so much. 
“Heads-up: you won’t like this,” he says and suddenly leans in, and you freeze. His arms snake around your back and under your legs, lifting you off the ground like you weigh nothing. “Hold on!” he quips. 
And with that he runs towards the cliff end, and you do hold on, for dear life. Cal skillfully runs along the walls, jumping from one side to the other, until he reaches the far end and hops onto safe ground once more.
He chuckles as he sets you back onto the grass, but you have to hold onto his shoulders a little longer until you feel safe on your legs again.
“Please never do that again,” you mutter under your breath, and Cal laughs. 
“C’mon, we’re almost there,” he remarks, gesturing towards the large structure with his chin. BD beeps happily. 
You walk next to Cal as you climb the rather steep mud path towards the vault. Up close, it is much taller than what it looked like from a distance. Still, you’re not sure what you expected it to be, but there really isn’t much… It’s just a giant tower surrounding a smaller column. That’s it.
“Huh, such a fuss over this?” you ask no one in particular.
“Hold on, I think I can get it open,” Cal says, and reaches up to touch the front panel. Closing his eyes, he focuses, and you can feel a shift around you as well as under you, as the ground shakes slightly, and the panel opens, revealing a dark and narrow passage. 
You inspect the passage, but you can’t see anything through it; it’s just a black void, and it’s rather unsettling. 
“I think you should wait here,” Cal states, giving you a reassuring smile. “I’ll be right back.”
“But–” 
Cal walks into the void, BD still on his shoulders, and you circle around the column to catch him coming back on the other side to make fun of him thinking that would lead anywhere, but he doesn’t come out.
“Cal?” you call, but there isn’t even an echo of your own voice to answer you. 
With a sigh, you walk back to the side where the redhead left in, and you lean onto the opposite wall, waiting for him to come back. The wait grows longer and your patience thinner, and for a second, you think that you just got ditched on this swamp planet, and you hug yourself. No, you tell yourself, Cal wouldn't do that.
…Right?
After what feels like an eternity, but probably was just a couple of minutes, Cal and BD finally emerge from the void again. You all but throw yourself onto him, hugging his torso. 
“What took you so long!” you say into his chest. 
“Sorry, I…” he hesitantly hugs you back, and you can feel he wants to say something but is holding back. So you look up at him.
“What is it?” you ask. “Did you meet the Jedi?” 
Cal just looks down at you, studying your face with an unreadable expression, and if you weren’t so worried by his silence, you would probably be very flustered by his gaze and how close his face is to yours. 
“Things just got a lot more complicated,” is all Cal offers as an explanation as he takes your hand, pulling you with him, out of the vault. “C’mon.”
“Wait, what?” you ask confused, trying to keep up with his hurried pace. “What happened in there?” 
“This is bigger than we could have imagined, I need to tell Cere immediately.”
That’s all you got out of him all the way back to the ship. BD kept looking back at you with questioning beeps, but Cal either didn’t hear or ignored him.
When you finally make it back to the Mantis, you’re out of breath. Cal’s pace was relentless when he was in a hurry, and he did carry you across some of the walls like before without warning, so you were looking forward to getting in there and sitting down for a moment.
“You passed the test,” Cere calls from the entrance of the ship as you approach it. 
You beeline for the corner bench behind the round table, where BD hops on as well, and is immediately scolded by Greez. Cal introduces everyone to BD, telling the other two that he’s “with us” now. 
Sitting down, Cal starts explaining what he learned in the vault. Some guy called Cordova hid a Holocron with a list of force sensitive children in the vault. The only way to get it though is by following his path, and the next leads are on the planets Zeffo and Dathomir. 
You’re still trying to wrap your head around this whole ordeal, when Cal asks Cere why she’s no longer a Jedi. She explains that an experience changed her perspective (vague much?) and she cut herself off from the Force. But she believes that with the holocron they can rebuild the Jedi Order, and in that way fight against the Empire.
When Cere asks Cal if he’s on board with the plan, he’s about to answer, but then looks at you, and you can see in his eyes that he wants to do this. So you give a short nod.
They come up with a plan, deciding what’s the next step, and Cere and Greeze disappear in the cockpit. You find an empty cot at the back of the ship and take a seat.
Your chest tightens at the realisation that Cal isn’t who you thought he was at all. That maybe you don’t know him at all, actually. But Jedi or not, he’s the guy you fell for. Behind whatever it was he’s been trying to hide all these years, there was a personality that was just unmistakably and often unapologetically Cal. And he’s become too important for you to lose. 
And now there’s this mission. A mission where, if you got things right, the weight of the universe will be placed on his shoulders. And it makes you angry, because that’s just not fair. There must be other Jedis out there that could do it, right? To make it worse, and you’re aware this might be a selfish thought, it makes you feel inadequate. Was Cal gonna drop you off on the next pit stop? You aren’t exactly an experienced fighter. You doubt they’d have a need for a thief on the run from the Empire. Would you be just a burden to him? 
Cal, who survived the Purge of the Jedis, and will now attempt to restore the Order. And you, helplessly in love with him, probably holding him back, because you’re too scared to lose him.
Just as there’s a voice echoing in your mind, telling you that you’re not enough, you feel a dip in the cot beside you. Looking up, you’re met with Cal’s worried gaze.
“You okay?” he asks softly. 
You slowly nod, but it quickly turns into a shake of your head instead. 
“I just…” You hope your voice doesn’t betray you, giving away the tears threatening to spill. “Everything happened so fast, so much all at once. And now I’m left feeling like I don’t know who you are.”
Cal is about to retort but you quickly add, “Wait, I didn’t word that right.”
So he waits for you to collect your thoughts.
“What I mean is, we’ve known each other for some time now. And I understand why you hid who you are. I just can’t help but wonder if the Cal I know is the real Cal or not?”
You dare bring your gaze up to meet his, and your chest tightens at the hurt look in his face.
“Because I like the Cal I know,” you blurt out before you can stop yourself. “A lot.”
He gives you a smile, and you swear you can see the slightest shade of pink spreading on his ears and cheeks. 
“There’s only one Cal,” he says, leaning slightly to the side, softly bumping his shoulder into yours. “And he likes you too. A lot.”
For a second, you simply watch your hands in your lap, replaying his words in your mind. You see how his hand gets into your field of vision, folding over yours, and now your brain short-circuits for real. You look up to him, searching for regret or teasing in his eyes, yet you find nothing but affection and warmth. A warmth that spreads through your whole body, and has you taking a shuddering breath.
“So what’s the plan now?” you ask him after a while, giving his hand a squeeze that he returns. 
“Telling you the truth,” Cal answers. “And then you can decide if you want to actually be a part of this.”
“And if I say no, you’re just gonna ditch me?” you say with a playful scoff, but a slight panic still sneaks itself into your voice. 
“What? No, of course not,” he assures you. “I already talked to Greez. You can stay on the Mantis as long as you need. What I mean is… I want you to stay by my side. But I won’t force you to. We have a pretty ambitious mission, after all.”
“Fighting the Empire?” you ask rhetorically. “Been there, done that.”
“Wait, what?”
“Why do you think I have a bounty on my head, Master Jedi?” you say with a playful tone.
“What did you do?” he asks, genuinely curious. 
“Hmm,” you stroke your chin as if considering his question. “I’ll tell you after you tell me about your training and how you escaped.”
“Deal,” Cal says with a smile. “And I’m not a Master Jedi, actually. I only ever was a Padawan, an apprentice.” 
“Well you have some nice moves for an apprentice,” you chuckle. “And Master or not, you look good with a lightsaber.”
Cal lets out a strangled sound at your comment, face now several shades darker. 
You both turn when you hear steps approaching, seeing that it’s Greez. You instinctively want to remove your hand from Cal’s, feeling like you just got caught, but he doesn’t let you go. 
“Ah, I see you’ve found the bed,” Greez says. “It’s the only extra we have. We were counting with just one Jedi, after all.”
“Technically you’re not wrong,” you say, unable to meet anyone’s eyes and looking down at the floor instead. “We’ll figure it out.” 
“You’ll have to,” Greez answers with a smile as he doesn’t miss your joined hands, and turns to leave. “Come get some dinner, kids.”
Cal wants to stand up but you pull him back. He turns to look at you with a raised brow and you take the chance to plant a kiss on his cheek. You almost laugh at the surprise on his face.
“Wherever you go, I’ll go,” you tell him as you rise to your feet with a smile. “At least it won’t be boring, right?”
— — —
A/N: this may have the potential for a second part? if you'd like that let me know! ♥ // (screenshot is mine)
~~~~~
🐥 taglist: [more info in my pinned post!] @dybynyght, @galaxtic-writings (sorry for the late tag!)
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tetsupeach · 2 years
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the contract - pantalone x f!reader smut
summary - in order to save your village, you make a deal with the devil.
cws - yan!pantalone, he’s actually kinda sweet in bed, dom!pantalone, sub character, he fucks you up against a window, sweet petnames, dub con, praise, degradation, riding crop impact play, he cares for you reluctantly. essentially reader trades her freedom to him, fem identifing and fem bodied reader, petplay if you really squint. reader is not a virgin. some yes sir but it’s not crazy sexual yet.
part one | part two | part three
please have an age in your bio and be 18+ before interacting with this fic. reblogs/comments appreciated, and encouraged.
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His servants barely look at you, wrapped in your heavy coat and bright red scarf, skin chapped from the icy winds on the mountain. They open doors for you and ignore you when you thank them, one of them takes your scarf and gloves. They’re caked with snow, but they ignore your apologies as well, you catch the way they eye your dress, and you find yourself wishing you’d worn something less warm, but more fashionable. 
The castle itself is warm in temperature, while cold in color palette. The stone is dark grey blue, in stark contrast to the bright light of the crackling torches, shackled to the wall. You rub your hands together, willing feeling to return to them as you’re led deeper into the building. You feel the sword at your hip, aware that it looks off, wrong, and far too large for you to carry. It bounces as you move, and the servants offer to take it, but you politely refuse. You stand in an antechamber, with high vaulting ceilings and a huge window that snow whips against. You pace nervously there for a few minutes. On a clearer day, you imagine you might be able to see the whole valley, down to your tiny village, and the towns beyond, represented currently by little smudges of light. 
“He’ll see you.” One of them says, bowing his head and opening the heavy dark wood door on the right side of the room, you stride quickly across it, heart thrumming in your chest, aware of the stakes of this simple conversation. The room is an office, with walls of bookshelves, and a globe in the corner. There are huge tapestries of the night sky, constellations and directions carefully mapped out in glistening gold thread against the indigo cloth. The room is long and thin, with a desk at the far end, and a huge arched window behind it. The light from outside is bright and white, and it makes it hard to focus on the man’s facial features. He sits behind the desk, studying some paperwork, dressed entirely in black and dark blue, a pair of glasses low on his nose. He doesn’t give you any greeting, doesn’t agknowledge you as you walk across the stone floor, your footsteps echoing. You stop a few feet from his desk. He clears his throat, lifting his attention from his paperwork. 
“Have a seat.” He says, gesturing to the two dark wood leather-backed chairs that are positioned in front of his desk. 
“Thank you.” You manage, your voice sounding odd and soft in the large space, as if it’s swallowing it. 
“You are here to buy something from me, correct?” He says, setting his pen down on the desk, folding his gloved hands in front of you. You nod. “You’re here for the hypericum perforatum.” He seems nearly cheerful, giving you a smile that sends shivers up your spine. You nod again. “I need to know, first of all, how you found out I have it.” He watches you choose your words carefully, allowing a moment of silence before you speak.
“In order to make the risk of the mountain roads worth it in this season you have to be transporting things of a certain importance or I suppose, ah, value,” your hands move in front of you as you speak, as if you’re carving the snow out of the way of his wagons with your palms, “And there are really only three regularly supplied marketplaces in the region, with shipments that, despite weather conditions are rarely delayed. Those shipments contain basic supplies, to a man like you I’m sure they’re hardly worth making the effort for generally during winter, unless you have other things coming and going throughout the region that you’d like to disguise under the pretense of supplying the local marketplaces so that people don’t starve.” You shrug. “There are three major political players in the region who could be making or using such channels, but out of all of them you’re the most likely.” He raises his eyebrows and adjusts his glasses
“So you hiked up a mountain, in the middle of a blizzard to meet with someone who almost certainly wouldn’t want to see you,” he squints at your outfit, “Wearing that, based on those deductions alone?” 
“Ah, no sir.” You touch the back of your neck self-consciously, your eyes flick to the window behind his desk. “I was able to plot the coming and going of your caravans and estimate that yours were likely the ones being used to smuggle goods, given that rarely did the size of the caravan match a delivery. If ever. So I knew it was you who could get it for me.” He leans forward, studying you, still amused, his chin in his palm. 
“And what would you like to give me, in return for my healing herbs?” He asks, a little smile on his lips, “Since you’re here, at my mercy after all that hard work.” You squirm uncomfortably. 
“People in my village are dying.” 
“Yes.” He says, waving that fact away. “I know.” 
“It’s a terrible fever,” you say quickly, “You go to bed feeling fine then wake up in the morning far from your body.” He wrinkles his nose. 
“I dislike metaphors for death.” He says, and you’re struck by just how little emotion his features telegraph. “I dislike metaphors generally.” You nod, noting the preference. “And I don’t care much for the day-to-day goings on of the local villages, it’s not my problem if people die of some mysterious illness.” He watches you nod. “What have you brought me?” You take the sword from your waist and set it on the desk, the jewels on the hilt sparkle in the low light.
“It was my grandfather’s.” You offer. He takes it, standing, holding it up to the light, running his fingers down the sheath. He hums softly. 
“This is quite valuable,” he eyes you, setting it back on the desk, and you’re struck by how large he is when he stands up straight, how broad his shoulders are. “But unfortunately for you, I don’t want it.” He watches you wilt, delights in it, the way your shoulders curve a little inward, and your lips twitch in an attempt to hide your disappointment. “However,” he sits back down, “I am willing to give you what you want, in return for something.” You perk back, how easy, he thinks, how easy it is to move your body, like you’re on marionette strings, using only his words, his favor. 
“Anything you want,” you blurt, “Anything at all.” A small smile plays on his lips. 
“I will re-introduce this remedy to the trading route,” He says, writing something down quickly on a sheet of paper in front of him, “You cannot have my personal store of it because I need it in case there’s an outbreak in my home, I’m sure you understand.” You swallow, nodding. “And in return,” He pulls a sheet of paper from his desk and slides it over to you. “I want you.” You blink at him, not entirely sure you’d heard. 
“Me?” 
“Yes.” He takes his glasses off, cleans them, and then looks you up and down again. “I do, I want you. All of you.” 
“F-for how long?” You get out, hands doing a nervous little dance in your lap. He shrugs. 
“Call it a year.” He taps the paper in front of you. “Can you read?” 
“Yes.” You say quickly, skimming the contract. “This is for the sale of goods, though, and I-” 
“Here,” he taps the last line, a touch of impatience in his tone, “It makes an allowance for exchange of services. This would be open-ended, of course, as I would like your complete obedience and loyalty for one calendar year. To start.” You look nervous, as he expected, but a smart girl like you had to know that a year’s worth of your labor was certainly worth the lives of those you held so dearly. Perhaps, he considers, a valuable lesson for you about showing your cards too early in a negotiation. He could teach you to be better, though. He watches you decide, eyes on the way you flatten your hands in your lap, on the slope of your cheek, surprising himself with how much he cares what your response will be. 
“Where do I sign?” You say after a long moment, and he makes some quick calculations, giving you one last out. 
“If I own you it means I can do whatever I want with you, or your body.” The unspoken burns under the surface of your conversation. “You do understand that failure to obey or meet my demands will be followed by swift and appropriate punishment?” You nod, swallowing. 
“Yes.” You whisper. He slides the paper across the desk and hands you the quill. 
“No need for dramatics. Sign your full name here.” He notes that you do finish reading it before signing the contract, good girl, your hand trembling slightly. He takes it from you then, filing it in a drawer that you hear lock shut with a soft click. “Well,” he stands, smiling at you. “Let’s see what I’ve purchased, hm?” He scribbles something on parchment. “This is the order for the herb. I’ll have it sent out with my other missives before sundown.” He looks back up at you over his glasses. “Strip, please.” You look up at him sharply, surprise on your face. “Let’s try that again,” he says, faux kindness in his voice. “I gave you an order, and you say, yes sir.” 
“Yes sir.” You blurt before he even has a chance to speak again and then you feel your face warm. He chuckles, it’s a deep, warm sound. 
“Eager to please, are we?” He strides around the desk. “That’ll serve you well. Strip.” 
“Yes sir.” You say, and this time you stand, unlacing the side of your robes with trembling hands, laying the fabric on the chair, standing for a moment in your plain white slip dress before pulling it over your head carefully. 
“You may leave your stockings on,” his eyes flick to your thighs, where the high wool socks make the plush of your thigh squish around the top, “You’re of no use to me if you catch cold.” 
“Yes sir.” You avoid eye contact as you pull your bra over your head, and then step out of your panties, covering yourself with your hands. 
“That won’t do.” He murmurs, and he goes over to the bookshelf, leaving you nearly naked standing next to his desk. He takes something long and black down from a shelf and comes back to stand in front of you. He uses the thin, whippy riding crop to push your hands away from your breasts, “Don’t cover yourself.” He says, tone sharp. “I want to see what’s mine.” You nod, and he steps forward, delicately removing his black gloves and rings, and setting them on his desk. “These,” he murmurs, almost to himself, taking your breasts in his hands and massaging them, flicking his thumbs over your nipples as his cool fingers sink into your warm skin. “These are exceptional.” He pinches your nipples and you whimper, he smirks at the sharp expression of emotion. He notices your hands twitch at your sides, glancing down with momentary annoyance. “Behind your back.” He instructs, and you do, reaching for your opposite elbow, folding them behind you. “Good girl,” he says, radiating smugness. He takes you by the shoulders and spins you around, pushing you down over the chair so that your ass is in the air and your feet on the ground while your face pushes against the cushion. 
“Oh,” you gasp, rocking onto the balls of your feet and then coming back down, stilling when you feel his palms on your ass, and hear him set the crop on his desk. 
“This is nice too,” he murmurs, and it’s odd, to feel appraised in this way. “Let’s see what you can handle.” His hands withdraw and you cover your face, hiding in the chair. Normally, he supposes, he’d make you look at him, thank him, but there would be time for that. He picks the crop off the table, and you have time to hear it whistle through the air before it cracks against your ass. You inhale sharply, but he notices you don’t cry out, and don’t attempt to hide or protect yourself. He rubs the skin for a moment, humming something unintelligible. He draws it back and hits you again, and again, he counts in your head and it takes fifteen lashes before you let out a soft whimper. He stops, you hear him set it on the desk and you don’t dare move, feel him palm your bruised, warm skin. 
“C’mere,” he grunts, suddenly the tone of his speech has gone from lilting and posh to something rougher, something more impatient, as he lifts you back up into a standing position and drags you to the window behind his desk, pressing your naked body up against the freezing glass and listening to you hiss with pain at the contact. “Shhh,” he breathes, fumbling with his pants, letting them fall to the floor. Logically, you know no one can see you - you know no one is outside for miles, that the weather is awful, and you’re far, far from civilization. Emotionally, you want to hide your face, there’s a burst of warmth on your cheeks when he pushes your legs apart and pushes one, then two fingers inside you. You whimper loudly and he chuckles. “There she is.” He murmurs, and you feel his breath on your skin, his lips on your neck, on your shoulder. “You’re not a virgin, are you?” 
“N-no, sir.” 
“Good.” You feel him scissor his fingers inside you and you gasp again, back arching as your breath fogs up the glass. “Going to be sweet,” he murmurs, and you feel his cock pressing up against your entrance, “Be a good girl for me, hm?” You open your mouth to respond in the affirmative but suck in a sharp breath instead, shivering as he pushes his length inside you. He moves more slowly and kindly than his demeanor would suggest, hands stilling your hips as he fills you. With a languid moan, he pushes your hips down onto him, and you feel the mushroom head of his cock nudge that bundle of nerves inside you. He deliberately angles you so that you’re fully pressed against the window when he bottoms out inside you, pulling a soft moan from your lips. His hips press against your ass as he stills inside you, the welts from his crop throb gently. “How does it feel?” He asks, his voice breathy, but you can hear it, hear that edge of cockiness. He knows how big he is, that he knows the way you’re struggling to focus on anything that isn’t his hands on your body, his cock buried inside you. He wants to hear the way you struggle to respond.
“I,” you hitch, leaning forward and pressing your face against the freezing glass. “It’s so much,” you whisper, your every breath depositing vapor on the glass next to you, little clouds making your ecstasy physical.
“I know,” he coos, “I know, you’ll get used to it.” He draws back a little and then refills you with a quick movement, “So warm,” he murmurs, setting a gentle pace, allowing your body time to adjust to him. He takes your forearms in one hand and uses it to fuck you just a little harder, letting out a soft hiss. “Anyone could see you right now,” he tightens his grip on your arms, “How does that feel, that anyone could watch me use you?” You mewl softly. “Oh,” he coos, and you feel him get closer to you, feel his breath on  your ear, “She doesn’t like that, does she?” You shake your head, trembling, unable to focus on anything that isn’t him, that isn’t his cock nudging your cervix, that isn’t the slap of his hips against your bruised ass.
Your breath fogs up the glass, and then the condensation freezes, forming a delicate crystal structure that blurs in front of you as your eyes burn with tears. 
“Oh, she’s crying,” he coos, fucking you harder, “Such a pretty girl, go on, cry for me,” he kisses your cheek, releasing your arms and taking a fistful of your hair, pulling your head back away from the window. “Should I be kind,” he says, “Should I let you cum?” You whine, a soft sad sound. “I like that,” he growls, voice taking on a darker undercurrent, “I don’t wanna hear you speak.” He slams his hips up against yours, burying himself to the hilt inside you with every thrust, “You wanna cum in front of the whole fucking valley,” he spits the words out, “Look down, look out there,” the snow swirls, as the day darkens you can make out the little sparkles of light in the blue twilight, the homes and farms, and small cities preparing for the night. “Go on,” he goads, “Go on, cum on my cock, I can feel you,” he’s interrupted midsentence by his own groan, a short, angry growl, “I can feel how close you are, cum for me.” 
“Fuck,” you choke out, and your legs nearly give out from underneath you as you clench down on him, hands flying from around your back to brace yourself against the window as your knees give way and the white-hot pleasure rips through you. 
“That’s it,” he coaches, his own thrusting becoming sporadic as he seeks his own high. “Just, just like that.” He groans loudly, and buries his face in your neck as he finishes deep inside you, essentially holding you upright as he cums deep inside you. He carries you back to his desk and then deposits you gently on the floor next to his chair. You shiver in the cool of the air. “Stay there for now,” he says quietly, adjusting his trousers and going back to work. “I want you to stay still and be sweet for me, can you manage that?” You nod on the ground, his cum dribbling out of your pussy onto the stone floor. He works for another few hours while you shiver, eventually, he sighs, standing and taking a throw blanket off of a nearby couch and tucking it around your body. “I suppose,” he murmurs, massaging your scalp softly for a moment before sitting back down, “It will be nice to have some company.”
please have an age in your bio and be 18+ before interacting with this fic. reblogs/comments appreciated, and encouraged.
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anonymouspuzzler · 1 year
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HERE'S THE BIG ONE FOLKS !!! a full memory vault for the Uncle Cally AU!! a lot of this has been kind of retconned by Psychonauts 2, since it was drawn well before that was out, but it was still a really fun and interesting challenge that I'm frankly quite proud of!!!!
...hey, wait, you usually get two memory vaults in a level, right...?
(alt text/image IDs under the cut!)
[Image 1 ID: A title slide resembling that of the memory vaults from Psychonauts, reading "The Amazing Caligosto Aquato!"]
[Image 2 ID: A memory-vault styled greyscale image. A young Augustus, holding a broom, is peeking out from behind the drapes of a circus tent to discover young Caligosto, sitting on top of some luggage and clutching his knees, looking miserable.]
[Image 3 ID: Caligosto sitting on a log, being offered a hot bowl of soup by a mostly shadowed, smiling beared figure. Augustus, sitting on another log across from him, is already eating from his own bowl and smiling warmly. One of the Aquatos' caravans can be seen in the background.]
[Image 4 ID: Augustus and Caligosto, both in Aquato circus outfits, practicing their levitation. Augustus is running on the levitation orb like a circus ball, while Caligosto is more bouncing with his legs in the air. Both are grinning.]
[Image 5 ID: An older Augustus and Caligosto, putting a poster up on the back of a wagon. The poster features several Aquato family members, including both Augustus and Caligosto. Augustus, with a hammer in one hand and the other on his hip, looks proudly at the poster, while Caligosto, next to him, clasps both hands in front of his face and grins.]
[Image 6 ID: Augustus and Caligosto back at the wagon, having torn down the poster so all that remains visible is the "Aquatos" banner. Augustus, holding the torn and rolled-up poster in one hand, is visibly sobbing and covering his face with the other. Caligosto stands next to him with a hand on his shoulder, looking down miserably. The background is noticeably darker and greyer.]
[Image 7 ID: Augustus and Caligosto posing, a ribbony banner around them reading "THE BROTHERS AQUATO!" Cal is in a deep lunge, gesturing broadly with both arms, holding onto Augustus' arm with his right hand; Augustus is balancing on top of Cal's right leg, left leg bent at the knee, one hand grabbing Cal's right arm and the other up in the air.]
[Image 8 ID: Caligosto, Augustus and Donatella up on the flying trapeze, with a ribbony banner around them reading "PRESENTING THE BROTHERS AQUATO! featuring DARING DONATELLA". Donatella is swinging freely, held only by one of Augustus's hands, who is in turn being held by the legs by Cal. Donatella and Augustus beam lovingly at each other, while Cal visibly rolls his eyes under the goggles and sticks out his tongue, hanging from the trapeze by his knees.]
[Image 9 ID: The whole modern Aquato family, with a ribbony banner above them reading simply "THE AQUATOS!" They are in a carefully balanced stack, Cal on the bottom in a full split, using levitation to lift a delighted Raz over his right hand. Augustus, balancing on Cal's left leg and holding Queepie on his shoulders, looks over at the psychic display with suspicion. Meanwhile, Donatella balances on Cal's shoulders, Frazie in turn balanced on hers; Dion balances on Augustus' leg, held up in part by Frazie's hand on his arm, while Mirtala balances proudly on one of his feet.]
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pudding-parade · 1 year
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Fancy Asprise by dbnecz
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And now for something completely different! Y'all, I love alien worlds. I love the terrain painting they usually have and the bizarre landscapes of them. I horde them. So, I will definitely be featuring some of them in world overviews.
This one is one of my favorite alien worlds. It's what I think Lunar Lakes should have been. Its backstory is that it's a human-inhabited ex-mining/prospecting colony on an alien planet, not an alien world inhabited by aliens. So, it's basically familiar sorts of architecture with an exotic backdrop, with a mix of futuristic and grungy. Many of the houses really do give me a vibe of houses that originally were prospector shacks that were haphazardly added on to over time because their layouts are pretty bizarre but yet functional and interesting to look at.
But before we get to that, the relevant info: It's a large, unpopulated world, 2048x2048, but it's built in a pretty compact way, basically in concentric circles on different levels, so it doesn't take forever to get around in it. I'm pretty sure it needs all EPs, and it needs at least a few of the stuff packs, namely Town Life for its grocery rabbithole, and the Katy Perry and Fast Lane packs for deco stuff on various lots. It may need more than that; I suck at identifying this stuff, I'm afraid. Hopefully I'll get better at that as I do these overviews. According to the world's download page the only Store content required is the Lucky Simoleon Casino lot, and so far as I can tell, that's accurate. I think it could have done with some of the Lunar Lakes stuff, but I'm guessing the creator was trying to limit the required Store content. You could always add that stuff yourself.
According to its Exchange page, the world has 41 residential lots and 36 community ones, and I'm assuming that's accurate. I didn't count them. Most of the residential lots are on the small side, many with only one bedroom, but there are also some larger ones with more bedrooms. So while this isn't a world where you'd be able to play lots of large families, if you want to play singles, childless couples, and smaller families, it will work very well.
The world has all spawners except for the Island Paradise and Into the Future ones, but it doesn't have a lot of spawners. Just a few of each of them. (Frankly, I'd add nanite spawners and bot-building facilities, but maybe that's just me.)
The world doesn't have a few things you may or may not want/need it to have:
Military, science, and school rabbitholes.
A fortune teller wagon and a Vault of Antiquity
A library
A festival lot
Consignment shops
A dedicated public pool, though the gym lot has a big pool on it and one of the lots designated as a beach is actually more like a pool.
It does have all the other rabbitholes, including the Into the Future observatory, two fairy arboretums, and multiple diners. The city hall is the ItF one, so if you want the military career available, an easy way to get it would be to use the Transmogrifier mod to turn that into a multifunction city hall/police/military rabbithole. Then, on the lot that currently has a police rabbithole, plunk down a school rabbithole instead. And to fix the lack of SCIENCE!, the world has this big, odd 64x64 park that's mostly concrete (kind of like Hidden Springs's big park) and that only has a little building with restrooms and a small room with a coffeemaker on it. I'm thinking I'd put the ship-shaped science rabbithole from Lunar Lakes there to add science careers to the world.
As usual, the title of this post is a link to the world's Exchange page or I have uploaded a .world file here. The latter goes in your game install files under GameData - Shared - NonPackaged - Worlds.
Oh, and just a note: I took these pictures with this lighting mod in the game (edited so that the moon is super-huge) which I think goes very well with this world's landscaping and overall "feel."
More pics and info behind the cut!
Here are Edit Town and map view of the two main areas in the world. There are a couple other smaller areas, too, but I don't want to do too many pics of this type.
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This is the area with most of the rabbitholes. There are also a few parks, a fire station, some residential lots, and the casino lot.
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This area has mostly residential lots, but also a fishing spot and a Showtime venue.
Now for some community lots!
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This is a fishing spot. It has lots of alien sparklies on it, and it makes the alien sound, too. It's pretty cool. I love the rainbow rocks.
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This is supposed to be a mining site, I think. I expected it to have rock/gem spawners, but it doesn't. It does, however, have lots of mushrooms. So if you need a mushroom for, you know, whatever reason.... ;) I'd add rock/gem spawners, though.
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This is a dance club, with an Egyptian theme, only in hot pink. Trippy! The world also has a dive bar, an exclusive lounge, and the casino. So, along with the Showtime venues, there's quite a bit of entertainment. Speaking of Showtime venues...
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This is a Showtime performance park. There is also the Flying V lot (there's a pic above the cut) and a private venue. So, you can do the Showtime careers in this world, if you like to play them.
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This is the back of the junkyard.
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This is a cafe lot with a barista and a professional bar, bubble-blowers, and lots of deco from the Katy Perry pack. And that's my Sim blowing bubbles. Just 'cuz.
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This is the fire station. And there are lots of other interesting, original (aside from the Store casino lot) community lots, too.
Now here are pics of some of the residential lots in various sizes:
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I just love how random they are. All of them are different, all built by the creator of the world and, like I said, they are mostly on the smaller side. Even the larger ones will sometimes have only two bedrooms, so as-is, they aren't really suitable for large families. You could possibly re-partition some of them to make more bedrooms, though. The first pic in this batch is the largest house in this world. It has five bedrooms, while the others have fewer. Overall, there are some very interesting builds in this world.
And we'll finish out with a couple extra scenery pics mostly because I'm in love with the big damn moon.
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manwalksintobar · 2 months
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Things I Didn't Know I Loved // Nazim Hikmet
it’s 1962 March 28th I’m sitting by the window on the Prague-Berlin train night is falling I never knew I liked night descending like a tired bird on a smoky wet plain I don’t like comparing nightfall to a tired bird
I didn’t know I loved the earth can someone who hasn’t worked the earth love it I’ve never worked the earth it must be my only Platonic love
and here I’ve loved rivers all this time whether motionless like this they curl skirting the hills European hills crowned with chateaus or whether stretched out flat as far as the eye can see I know you can’t wash in the same river even once I know the river will bring new lights you'll never see I know we live slightly longer than a horse but not nearly as long as a crow I know this has troubled people before                          and will trouble those after me I know all this has been said a thousand times before                          and will be said after me
I didn’t know I loved the sky cloudy or clear the blue vault Andrei studied on his back at Borodino in prison I translated both volumes of War and Peace into Turkish I hear voices not from the blue vault but from the yard the guards are beating someone again I didn’t know I loved trees bare beeches near Moscow in Peredelkino they come upon me in winter noble and modest beeches are Russian the way poplars are Turkish “the poplars of Izmir losing their leaves. . . they call me The Knife. . .                          lover like a young tree. . . I blow stately mansions sky-high” in the Ilgaz woods in 1920 I tied an embroidered linen handkerchief                                         to a pine bough for luck
I never knew I loved roads even the asphalt kind Vera's behind the wheel we're driving from Moscow to the Crimea                                                           Koktebele                                formerly “Goktepé ili” in Turkish the two of us inside a closed box the world flows past on both sides distant and mute I was never so close to anyone in my life bandits stopped me on the red road between Bolu and Geredé                                         when I was eighteen apart from my life I didn’t have anything in the wagon they could take and at eighteen our lives are what we value least I’ve written this somewhere before wading through a dark muddy street I'm going to the shadow play Ramazan night a paper lantern leading the way maybe nothing like this ever happened maybe I read it somewhere an eight-year-old boy                                        going to the shadow play Ramazan night in Istanbul holding his grandfather’s hand    his grandfather has on a fez and is wearing the fur coat       with a sable collar over his robe    and there’s a lantern in the servant’s hand    and I can’t contain myself for joy flowers come to mind for some reason poppies cactuses jonquils in the jonquil garden in Kadikoy Istanbul I kissed Marika fresh almonds on her breath I was seventeen my heart on a swing touched the sky I didn’t know I loved flowers friends sent me three red carnations in prison
I just remembered the stars I love them too whether I’m floored watching them from below or whether I'm flying at their side
I have some questions for the cosmonauts were the stars much bigger did they look like huge jewels on black velvet                              or apricots on orange did you feel proud to get closer to the stars I saw color photos of the cosmos in Ogonek magazine now don’t    be upset comrades but nonfigurative shall we say or abstract    well some of them looked just like such paintings which is to    say they were terribly figurative and concrete my heart was in my mouth looking at them they are our endless desire to grasp things seeing them I could even think of death and not feel at all sad I never knew I loved the cosmos
snow flashes in front of my eyes both heavy wet steady snow and the dry whirling kind I didn’t know I liked snow
I never knew I loved the sun even when setting cherry-red as now in Istanbul too it sometimes sets in postcard colors but you aren’t about to paint it that way I didn’t know I loved the sea                              except the Sea of Azov or how much
I didn’t know I loved clouds whether I’m under or up above them whether they look like giants or shaggy white beasts
moonlight the falsest the most languid the most petit-bourgeois strikes me I like it
I didn’t know I liked rain whether it falls like a fine net or splatters against the glass my    heart leaves me tangled up in a net or trapped inside a drop    and takes off for uncharted countries I didn’t know I loved    rain but why did I suddenly discover all these passions sitting    by the window on the Prague-Berlin train is it because I lit my sixth cigarette one alone could kill me is it because I’m half dead from thinking about someone back in Moscow her hair straw-blond eyelashes blue
the train plunges on through the pitch-black night I never knew I liked the night pitch-black sparks fly from the engine I didn’t know I loved sparks I didn’t know I loved so many things and I had to wait until sixty    to find it out sitting by the window on the Prague-Berlin train    watching the world disappear as if on a journey of no return
                                                     19 April 1962                                                      Moscow
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bleachbleachbleach · 10 months
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More Bleach Library headcanons: their damaged item budget is through the roof. Somebody has to go around and quietly beg the captains and nobility for donations every time someone gets too out of control and yet another building collapses; I can't imagine a budget increase is feasible. There are blacklists and flags on so many shinigami accounts for causing damage. (For example, the 12th is the highest user of document delivery, because books came back in an utterly unusable and frankly distressing state, and it got to the point that it was just better Not To Send Items Over. Also they kepy having to buy new dropbox wagons due to contamination. Those things are like a thousand dollars if you get the good ones...Yachiru was banned for a decade because of how much damage her unauthorized pool caused the Kuchiki Archives, and while the Kuchiki Archives poaches talent, there is still a sense of solidarity...I have more but I am talking too much.)
No one dreads Pledge Drive season like the Seireitei, because both the SC and The Library go to town with it. There are plenty of things nobles are happily willing to patronize, but the military magazine and the military library are not two of those things. As for shinigami in the Gotei, it just seems… weird to be giving your paycheck to fund things that are run by the same thing that pays… you?
Due to the Horrors you mentioned happening to the previous dropboxes, the current Gotei dropboxes look like this:
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(That is an actual picture of a book drop at my workplace. I get that it’s a sturdy weatherproof container! But LOL SIR THAT IS A TRASH CAN. Very trusting to assume people can read, and won't try to use it as one...)
Though, I was thinking about building collapses. Say a prayer for whatever circulating collections the Gotei might maintain, and this doesn’t necessarily spare them when people start bankai-ing it up, but I feel like the records library is underground specifically to avoid damage from surface shenanigans. The ground could still get cratered and it could probably still burn to the ground, but the likelihood is less and you know what, the Gotei archivists will take what they can get.
We’ve seen Ukitake in the underground records library, but it made me think about what other preservative measures might be in place, which made me think about Strataca in Kansas, USA, which is a museum/former salt mine/archives preservation vault. The vault serves as secure, high protected storage for a lot of different irreplaceable items, whether original film negatives or medical records, oil and gas charts, etc. In addition to being underground, away from sunlight, the preservative qualities of the salt keeps documents from moisture and oxidation. I think it’s super cool! (Cool enough to drive to Hutchinson, Kansas to see, even. It was on the way to the Barbed Wire Museum!)
Japan doesn’t have any land-based salt deposits, but this doesn’t mean Soul Society can’t. Even without the additional cool factor of the salt, though, who wouldn't store their important records in a cool underground vault. It could be like this random vault by Mt. Fuji, which is apparently for Sanyo? Lol? There’s also the Matsushiro Underground Imperial Headquarters, which was built specifically to move important arms of government around during WWII, were the Allied Forces to invade (some wild stories in that Wiki article). Nothing makes your documents seem more important than putting them in an underground vault!
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gatheringfiki · 4 months
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The following ficlet was written by @marigoldvance​ based on this photoset.
Fili/Kili, Gen, Boy King AU
You might also be able to read this story on AO3.
If you’ve enjoyed this story, please leave a comment either in replies or on AO3. :)
Gingerbread Men
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Kíli sat on his pile of hides, shoved his feet into his boots and reached for the coat his father had given him some days before. It was brown leather and trimmed in fur, the lining thick and warm; much larger than his old one, fitted to accommodate the growth he’d undergone since the last cold season.
He stood and padded over the layers of rugs to the closed flaps of his family’s wide, vaulted yurt tent. Behind him, his grandmother slept, snoring softly under a mound of blankets. She was more becoming more frail, hunched, awake for shorter pockets of time. Kíli felt her loss as if it was already upon him.
Bracing himself for the cold morning that awaited him beyond the tent, Kíli pulled open the flaps and stepped outside. Snow drifted from above, dusting the trees and ground in a thin layer of white. It wasn’t sticky yet, mostly melting, but what stayed made the slumbering forest feel less eerie.
Kíli was barely thirteen, new to his long limbs and thickening muscles, moving somewhat awkwardly though with an air of confidence.
At the center of the caravan—the circle of large and small tents and wagons—his mother stoked the cooking fire, quietly instructing Fíli to hand her items one at a time and guiding him through her actions.
After Kíli had closed and wrapped the tent flaps, he stood, watching his mother and Fíli prepare a wide cast-iron pan, rubbing oil into its pores.
It had been three years since Kíli’s father had found Fíli, caught and swaying upside-down, in one of the noose traps Kíli’s father had set the day before. Fíli, the Lost Prince of Erebor, never uttering a word.
No one knew apart from Kíli who Fíli was. It was a secret Kíli held close to his heart and he was determined never to betray Fíli’s trust. He’d promised, after all, out loud and to Fíli’s face.
A flicker of movement in the corner of Kíli’s eye caught his attention and he turned to see a little girl skipping along, her hand in her mother’s. Lana, the girl, tugged her mother’s arm, clearly signalling her mother to stop where they were since her mother did so. Lana dug into a basket her mother had hooked over one elbow, and pulled out a shiny, tin bauble painted a brilliant red.
Lana’s mother placed the basket down at her feet and then lifted the girl into her arms so that Lana could reach a thin, low-hanging branch on one of the trees. Lana hung the bauble there and gestured for another, her mother obliging, crouching down and plucking another decoration from the basket. They continued like this under there was a string of baubles along the branch, and then they moved on.
As Kíli looked around, he noticed several trees surrounded their camp were adorned with baubles in various shapes and colors—some gold or silver, others bright green and red. Nested in the firs were ropes of dyed, burlap garland, and polished holders with unlit beeswax-yellow candles.  
            “Plannin’ to stand there all day, boy, or can you make yourself useful?” The sound of Kíli’s mother’s rich mahogany voice spurred Kíli into action.
He moved toward his mother and Fíli, who greeted Kíli with a demure smile.
            “Sorry Ma,” Kíli said, settling on the low, thin working bench and pressing himself flush against Fíli’s side. “I forgot it’s almost Christmas!”   
            “That it is, my love.” His mother gave Kíli a warm look, reach across Fíli to rake a hand through Kíli’s hair fondly. “And now you’re going to help Fíli with these biscuits. We need enough for everyone, so no pilfering any before it’s time.”
Kíli’s mother stared at him with warning before standing, brushing of her skirts, and stepping around the bench to stand behind Kíli. She dipped forward and pressed a kiss to Kíli’s head, saying in a whisper, “Show him how it’s done.”
And then she spun around and walked to her sister’s wagon. Likely to take inventory of their herbs and healing tinctures. His mother, Dis, and her coven managed their camp’s healing and care, a more pressing issue in the winter months. And, of course, since the War of All Lands began three years ago, on the night before they recovered Fíli from the trap.  
Kíli felt a hand squeeze his knee and was brought back to the present, Fíli bopping his forehead against Kíli’s in a gesture Kíli had learned meant Fíli wanted his attention. Kíli grinned and set to work, asked Fíli for the bowl of dough he’d spotted before he sat down.
He showed Fíli how to warm the dough, rolling small globs of his between their hands, before flattening their pieces on the floured wooden trays they’d put in their laps. They cut the dough into different shapes using tools one of the camp’s crafters formed for Kíli’s mother as a gift after he’d been taking in—another refugee of the war.
Little men and sharp trees and perfect circles Kíli would drizzle the shape of a snowflake on after the biscuits were cooked and cooled.
Fíli and Kíli worked together most of the day, bumping elbows and shoving each other when Kíli told a particularly exaggerated story. It was peaceful and pleasant, and Kíli yearned for every day to be like this with Fíli.
But he knew, one day, things would change. Fíli was the Lost Prince and until the Bone Soldiers found him, the war would never end. Rumours had already spread that the Usurper King had sent out a special party to capture and kill Fíli, former kings twisted by evil and turned into sinister things for the Usurper King to use.
Kíli didn’t tell Fíli any of this, though he knew Fíli had some idea, alert and wary at the rustle of leaves or the snap of every twig in the distance.
Things couldn’t be like this, traveling as a merry troupe across the land, baking ginger biscuits and hanging baubles in trees and—their happiness would end one day.
Kíli watched Fíli flatten more dough under his palm, his golden hair braided away from his face, a face that looked sharper and more grown up than Kíli remembered it. Like Kíli, he had grown, his body thicker and broader and more mature. Not the soft, pink child he’d been when he and Kíli met.
Fíli must have felt Kíli’s eyes on him because he paused in his motions and turned his head to meet Kíli’s eyes, blue-grey eyes searching Kíli’s. He was beautiful, Kíli realized, a strange warmth stirring in his belly.
As before, Fíli leaned forward to bump his forehead against Kíli’s, but Kíli stopped him with a hand to Fíli’s chest.
They stared at each other, Fíli questioningly, Kíli a little uncertain. And then Kíli swept in, quick as you please, and brushed a faint kiss to Fíli’s lips. Nothing meaningful or profound. Just a light touching of skin.
Fíli’s blinked at Kíli afterward and, for a few mortifying moments, Kíli felt that he’d made a huge mistake. That is until a joyous smile spread across Fíli’s face and he nodded. Kíli had no idea why he was nodding, however, he nodded back, chuckling with nerves.
They turned their attention back to the biscuits and continued their work, accepting praise from Kíli’s mother when she came to inspect how they were getting on.
She knelt on Fíli’s other side, picking up a few of the gingerbread men one at a time, and gave both boys a proud look. Fíli beamed back, glancing between Kíli and Kíli’s mother, happy as could be, everything he’d lost, all the terror and pain he’d endured, a distant memory.
And Kíli decided that he would forever more do his best to bring that happiness to Fíli. No matter what nasty king or evil power tried to rip it away from Fíli, Kíli would be there to remind Fíli that happiness existed.
Always.
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Adventure: The Grand Cathedral
All good things of this earth are made by hands at toil
Come in, ye weary, and be welcome in the home you have raised
-Words inscribed above the Lawberer’s gate.
Built to honour Trevennah the Arbiter, a saint of the goddess Erathis, this sprawling complex of temples and convents is a settlement unto itself, a waystation for those travelling through the frigid wilderness in search of home. Folk of all kinds make the cathedral a central stop in their routes through the region, be they traders, pilgrims, or nomadic peoples seeking a sturdy refuge during the harshest of the winter months, The Cathederal accepts them all, which does sometimes lead to monks and strangers living cheek to cheek for months of a time, giving the temple to order a rather chaotic air.
Adventure Hooks:
Just passing through, the party are helping an architect and lay brother  of the Lawbearer’s order map a few of the lower catacombs in preperation for a new expansion. a fire some decades back destroyed the records for exactly what sort of tombs, vaults and whatever other subterranean chambers might exist down there. This can make a great intro dungeon for first time players, giving them a chance to get to know eachother and share goals while fending off underground pests and the occasional rogue gargoyle.
Though the gods are ever present it’s said that they can hear us more clearly through their holy places, and in desperate need of the law bearer's guidance the party has decided to seek out the holiest place they can. Getting the attention of the goddess of civilization isn’t as easy as kneeling at an altar and reciting some words, and may be an undertaking of days, maybe even weeks. While spending some of their off hours in study or just looking for something to do one of the party will run into some monks loading tools into a local wagon: apparently a bridge in a road near by has broken and it needs some quick mending. It’s hard work, but if they volunteer their time, the handy hero might just find themselves working alongside a grey-eyed old woman who might lend an ear to their troubles.
The  has intrigues that stretch back generations, factitious priests, traders from warring nations, an indentured peasant class that chafes at the presence of outsiders . The only things to keep the peace is tradition and the wisdom of the ostensibly neutral Grand Matriarch, and she’s just been found murdered. Now with tensions flaring and fingers pointing, the party must find the true murderer before their one safe refuge from the cold burns itself to the ground. More on that Mystery Below the cut:
Setup: While on the surface the Matriarch was beloved by all, having given up her family name and dedicated her life to the lawbearer’s service, there’s plenty of folks who would have wanted her dead, creating a tangled mess of suspects and motives for the party to investigate. 
The local peasant population were once a pagan people conquered by holy warriors under the guise of bringing “civilization” to the savages. Though it happened generations ago, these resentments run deep, doubly so for the clan of nomads who’ve stopped in by the cathederal to trade, all of whom who have experienced the tyranny of the more zealous Erathians first hand.
Despite being a goddess of order and good goverment, Erathis’s clergy can be quite the contentious lot, constantly jockeying for position to ensure their interpretation of the Lawbearer’s will is the default. There are numerous factions within the Cathederal who wanted the Matriarch’s seat in their grasp, and are now squabbling to consolidate power.
The Cathedral of Trevennah occupies territory ruled over by a tyrannical Bishop-Prince, who has sent a zealous and determined agent to convince the Matriarch to hand over certain sainted relics as a sign of obesence to her religious superior. Just because the Bishop and the Matriarch worshipped the same god does not mean they’re part of the same holy order, and so the agent had lingered on for months getting slowly more frustrated as they were denied.
A visiting noble who happens to be the ACTUAL killer, despise feigning innocence. The Grand Matriarch was actually their elder aunt, who do to a stipulation in his mother’s will had inherited a large portion of profitable lands that were due to her before she became a dedicate. Fearful about his domains being bisected, this noble came to convince his aunt to put aside her plans to use the income generated from that territory for some kind of charitable mission, and instead give him his rightful due.  Striking her down in a fit of rage, the noble now lurks around the cathedral so he can secure the land’s documents and see them destroyed.
Other Npcs include:
 A Knight-Excognatia of the Cloven Shield order, a sort of wandering law officer who will help the party in their investigation. Should they prove themselves, this knight will take the party onto their next assignment, a small border kingdom beset by some kind of beast.
A highly skilled warrior woman serving as the noble’s bodyguard. A bit smitten with her lord, she’ll vouch for his innocence and honour right up until his crimes are revealed, at which point she’ll drop her blade where she stands and head off into the wilderness looking for redemption. Some time later the party might just find her leading a band of outlaws sheltering people from an ongoing civil war, trying to earn back her honour by any means she can.
The poor Architect Lay-brother, who will vouch for the party’s innocence to anyone who will hear and will try and give them what support he can while they untangle this mess. Some time later he will send the party a missive: he’s discovered something ominous down in the catacombs they were exploring and he’d like them back to help delve further.
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queersitcomenthusiast · 6 months
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Tagged by the one and only SPL @singinprincess
shuffle your ON REPEAT playlist and list the first 10 songs and tag 10 people 🎶!
favorite kind of high by Kelly Clarkson
Wildest Dreams (Taylor's Version) by Taylor Swift
Heartbeat by Carrie Underwood
Grace by Brooke Alexx
Wonderland (Taylor's Version) by Taylor Swift
Wagon Wheel by Darius Rucker
i'm not doing well by corook
"Slut!" (Taylor's Version) (From the Vault) by Taylor Swift
emergency contact by corook
This Town by Niall Horan
Tagging: @singwhenyoucantspeak @king-shit-thembo @unholyghost @lifesizehysteria @imjustinitforthe-laughs @icedteawithlime @mdlay @shyestguy98 @rowark @sweetradiantqueen @sanguineswanqueen
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admiralsweko · 6 months
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Rhyiona Week 2023 Day One
Prompt: Dream
Stars Fading
Stars fading but I linger on, dear Still craving your kiss
- Dream a Little Dream of Me
“Fi?” Her sister’s voice quietly prodded Fiona awake. “Wake up. It’s your turn to drive.” 
Slowly awakening from her slumber, Fiona blinked the sleep from her eyes as Sasha gently shook her shoulder. Yawning, she sat up and waved her sister away. 
“You good?” Sasha asked, brows raised. “You were pretty out of it. Twitching and mumbling.”
“Hmm? Yeah,” Fiona replied, stretching as she got to her feet. “Just having a weird dream.” 
Earlier, the steady hum of the caravan in motion had quickly lulled her to sleep. While she dozed, she had fallen deeply into a dream. However, upon waking, she was left with only the vague memories of half formed images as to the events that had taken place. Now a haunting impression of the warmth and intimacy that had permeated her rest lingered in her mind like smoke. The undefinable, but nevertheless gnawing desire to feel the return of that sanctuary she had briefly experienced echoed through her. 
“As long as you’re awake enough to make sure we don’t run into anything,”  Sasha spoke, pulling Fiona’s attention back to the present, “I’d say it’s best if you give Rhys a break. He’s trying to pretend like he’s not exhausted but with all the swerving he’s been doing…” Sasha shrugged. 
“I’m on it.” 
Fiona stepped around the little table that sat in front of the caravan’s couch where she had been resting. Glancing over, she saw poor Vaughn was still frozen in paralysis. They had tried to make him as comfortable as possible, placing his stiff form onto couch cushions, but there was little else they could do. 
Eyes closed and arms crossed, Athena leaned against the rear wall beside the ladder leading to the roof hatch. It astounded Fiona that not only could the older woman sleep standing up, but that she was steady enough to do so in a moving vehicle. 
“I’m gonna check on the bots up top,” Sasha said, pointing a finger to the roof. “Make sure they haven’t blown away.” She flashed a grin before turning to the ladder. Careful not to disturb the slumbering vault hunter, she climbed up and disappeared from sight. 
With one final jaw-popping yawn, Fiona made her way in the opposite direction, towards the front of the wagon. Rhys turned at the sound of her boots scraping against the short steps that lead up to the raised driver’s area.
“Hey,” he said softly with a sleepy half smile. 
Bizarrely, something squeezed in her chest as she nodded a greeting. The unusual echo that lingered from her dream seemed to grow stronger in the moment their eyes briefly met before his attention returned to the task of driving. Caught off guard by the potency of that mysteriously continuing sensation, she brushed her fingers through her bangs and regarded him quietly. As Sasha had mentioned, he must be exhausted; the dark circles under his heavy lidded eyes and the large yawn he tried to stifle behind his mechanical hand confirming it.
“Come to keep me company?” he asked, glancing at her over his shoulder, a strange gleam in his tired eyes.
“As if.” She was quick to scoff at the notion, despite the butterflies that blossomed in her stomach at his hopeful tone. “I’m kicking you out. We’re getting complaints about the ride. Apparently, it’s not as smooth as expected. I’m replacing you.”
“Are you accusing me of being a bad driver?” His tone was full of false shock. “Unbelievable.”
“Not a bad one,” she corrected, tilting her head as she gave him a soft smirk. “Just a tired one. C’mon. Go get some rest.” 
“Ah, all right,” he relented, huffing out a sigh. “If you insist.” 
She stepped closer, putting one hand on the wheel. He unfolded his lanky body from the driver’s seat and edged around her. For the briefest of moments, the pair brushed by each other. Despite sharing the same space for less than a breath of a second, it was still long enough to awaken a lost memory from her dream. 
Although unclear as to the circumstances, Fiona remembered the whisper of his touch against her body and overwhelming sense of security that had flooded her. Shaken by the recollection, she plopped into the driver’s seat unceremoniously, her butt hitting the cracked leather with a plop. 
“You okay?” Rhys asked, “I didn’t trip you, did I? Curse of these long legs,” he muttered jokingly. 
“Uh, no. No, I’m fine,” she reassured him. “Just, uh, lost my balance for a second.” 
As she readjusted herself, she turned to concentrate on the landscape that whizzed by through the windshield, and tried to push the memory of that lingering dream away. 
Beneath her, residual body heat radiated from the seat, warming her along her back and behind. She squirmed, desperately attempting not to dwell on the idea that it was his body that had generated this heat.  Almost as if somehow he knew of her discomfort and was taunting her, he began to stretch nearby, much to her silent dismay. Irritated at her own internal reaction, she pointedly tried to ignore him but that little annoying ache still persisted within her. The temptation proved too much. 
She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. The long line of his body, the arch of his back as he reached up towards the ceiling overhead, completely pulled her focus from the road, causing her hands to follow her eyes. The caravan began to swerve to the left. Quickly, she caught herself and corrected the wheel. 
Thankfully, no one, especially Rhys, had seemed to notice. Shaking her head to clear her obviously still sleep-addled brain, she cursed herself for getting distracted so easily.
Beside her, he finally finished stretching with a soft little grunt that set Fiona’s teeth on edge. Reaching the top of the short steps, he stopped. 
“Fi?” 
The sound of her name spoken in his hushed tone sent a zip along her spine. Poker face firmly intact despite the maelstrom of emotions that plagued her, she glanced his way. 
He gave her a friendly little salute, “Thanks.”
Despite herself, she was charmed. The tension that bunched across her shoulders melted as she realized how ridiculous she was being, letting a stupid, fleeting dream get the better of her. She acknowledged his gratitude with a half smile. 
“Sleep well, Hyperion. And, uh,” her cheeks warmed as she uttered, “sweet dreams.” 
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scribbling-dragon · 2 years
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Red Bandit AU Masterpost
this list is arranged in chronological order! not the order they have been posted in, the first to be posted was flamin’ hot
(AO3 Link)
flamin’ hot
He ducks as a wave of heat rolls out, flames licking just a little behind it as most of them drop down to the ground, away from the wave of flames that rolls a few more feet out before flickering out, disappearing in a puff of smoke.
He looks up first, his eyes meeting with the only criminal still left standing. He stares back at him, red eyes glowing a little under the harsh sun. He stands a moment later, unlooping a piece of rope from his belt and hoping it’s enough for the other four criminals.
A God’s Insight
The kingdoms he’s visited tend to blend into each other, the same buildings over and over again, reaching into the sky as though they can ever hope to achieve the grandeur he’s reached. Reaching higher as though they can hope to scrape their fingers against the same ones he’s cradled close to his own chest.
Still, the people shove past him, barrelling down streets that are far too small for the crowds of people that swarm them, bustling and heady, vendors lining each side of the street, yelling and calling and offering their wares to each and every person that passes by them.
-
A god's interlude
first encounters
Honestly, he thinks this might have been the easiest thing he’s ever done.
He’s not sure who set up an undefended creeper farm outside of the town limits, but whoever it is is an idiot, and they're about to pay for their mistake. The creepers don't even hiss at him as he enters the enclosure, leaving Revenge just beyond the fence and vaulting over it, walking among the creepers.
theft
He stares, incredulous, as people continue to come and go, apparently free to roam around in the building that houses some of the most priceless items in Stratos. Joel is insane, he’s actually insane for allowing anyone into that building.
However, he thanks whatever deity gave Joel his god complex, because it makes his own job a lot easier to carry out than he had originally thought it would be.
silent bodyguard
He pauses at the sound of raised voices, sucking in a breath and hoping that no one’s spotted him. He left Revenge up by the creeper farm, which everyone except the Sheriff seems hesitant to approach. He hopes Revenge hasn't been found, he likes that horse quite a lot.
He stiffens further when he hears the Sheriff respond, voice distinct and carrying, even as he doesn't raise it. Technically the Sheriff was his goal here…
drawing (unwanted) attention)
He watches the way he stiffens, his tail stopping the absent flicking and ears pricking forward as he stares at Revenge. He knows the Sheriff recognises his horse, he would be stupid if he didn't. He’s turned around a moment later, and he knows the ruse is up, rising from the crowd of creepers and chucking the grass away.
The two people with him spot him as well, stiffening up in the same way the Sheriff does. They meet eyes, the Sheriff staring at him with a strange intensity. He allows him that momentary glance, grinning and giving him the beginnings of a salute, before he’s off, sprinting through the mostly empty farm and leaping the fence at the other side.
ignition
He’s…not sure what to do.
The wagon is gone, completely blasted to bits, with several timbers laying just a few metres in front of him. One is still on fire, flames licking along the wood and threatening to spread to the rest of the remnants.
He doesn't make a move to put it out though, ears still ringing from the sound of the explosion. There’s no gunpowder left, no export for him to sell. He can hear murmuring behind him, people whispering to their neighbours as he continues to stand there and stare at the wreckage.
flamin’ hot
He ducks as a wave of heat rolls out, flames licking just a little behind it as most of them drop down to the ground, away from the wave of flames that rolls a few more feet out before flickering out, disappearing in a puff of smoke.
He looks up first, his eyes meeting with the only criminal still left standing. He stares back at him, red eyes glowing a little under the harsh sun. He stands a moment later, unlooping a piece of rope from his belt and hoping it’s enough for the other four criminals.
ash-covered hearts
“Hello to you too,” Pixl adjusts his glasses, the chain glinting slightly as he does so. “How’s it in Tumble Town?”
“Dry, dusty, the usual. And the guild?”
“Books, grumpy old people, the usual.” Pixl replies, smiling at him. “How goes, ah,” he looks around at their current company before lowering his voice, “How goes you and Tango?”
just late (and definitely not distracted)
“Tango,” he attempts to protest, his shoves half-hearted at best as Tango pulls him in, the darkness of the cupboard hiding everything but his eyes, one hand on his collar the other wrapped around his back, “C’mon, we’re gonna be late.” 
“And we’re always late anyway,” Tango grins up at him, red eyes flashing in the darkness as he pulls him a little closer, the door swinging shut behind them with a dull thunk.
sleepy mornings
Awareness trickles in slowly, easing in with a gentle warmth and a slightly golden hue to it as he cracks his eyes open. The curtains haven't been pulled all the way shut, a small sliver of space allowing golden sunlight to spill into the bedroom.
-
or, a sleepy morning with jimmy and tango
revenge and ransoms
“Bit late for a walk, don't you think?”
He turns, a snarl already pulling his lips back. “Bit far from your empire, aren't you?” He responds.
The god laughs, eyes squinting shut in amusement. He’s in his god form, towering over him as he stands there. He tries not to feel too unsettled, too scared by the man standing in front of him. He fails, flinching back when Joel’s hands crackle with electricity.
thieving tendencies
Still, old habits die hard, and he finds himself eyeing up several rather valuable items, some of which would just be so easy to steal. It’s like they're trying to convince him to steal them, he swears some of them whisper to him when he’s not looking, in an attempt to get him to steal them. But he’s not about to sneak a treasure or two behind Jimmy’s back, especially not when there are others watching them both.
But the temptation is still there, and he has to consistently remind himself not to when he considers the idea of it.
-
Or, five times Tango resisted stealing something, and the one time he doesn't.
a brief dabble in being kidnapped
“This is just boring at this point.” Tango shakes his wrists to punctuate his sentence, bound with too-tight rope that is beginning to cut off all feeling in his hands. “And unoriginal.” He adds, just to send the point home. The rope is also beginning to tug at the short fur around his wrists, pulling at it in a way that cannot be described as anything other than agonisingly irritating.
“Shut it, Red.” Bandit one growls, looming over him. He’s far too tall for his own good, having to hunch over until he’s nearly bent at the waist to leer down at him. At least, Tango assumes he’s leering, because he can't actually see tall bandit’s face. It’s covered by a bandanna, which is certainly a classic move, but is also going to make identifying him later an issue, if he even needs to identify them at all.
Forced Acquisition of a Child
“Jimmy,” he holds the baby awkwardly, gripping it under  the arms. The blanket unravels a little, trailing below but not quite  touching the floor. He’s never held a baby. He should never be trusted  to hold a baby, and yet, somehow, here he is. “Why have you got a baby.”
“fWhip  gave it to me,” Jimmy continues to look and sound the most distressed  Tango has ever seen him, and Tango was there for the Train Incident.  They still don’t have an explanation for how it appeared overnight, but  Jimmy is too scared to remove it. Like the train tracks might summon  another train if he does. “And then he just left.”
-
Or: Jimmy "doesn't know" how to take care of babies, and Tango doesn't know how to take care of babies.
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theminecraftbee · 1 year
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vault hunters is destroying me as well. I keep going "ok so i need to do this and that and draw some this evening" and then suddenly ive been playing vault hunters for three hours. Oops
i MEANT to continue my nano project, lol. i'll get back on the wagon with that one eventually i have vaults to hunt,
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kathleengilberts · 7 months
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Yikrfiae Black Wagon Wheel Chandelier 2 Tier 36-Lights 48 Inch Extra Large Farmhouse Light Fixture
This 2-tier black wagon wheel chandelier features a high-quality round frame with a classic black finish for allure. The 36-light design provides 360°light coverage, fully lighting up your house with a retro atmosphere and comfortable feeling. The High ceiling chandelier requires 36 pcs of E12 light bulbs(Not Included). Works with LED bulbs, incandescent, CFL, Edison bulbs, halogen bulbs, etc(40W max). Fully dimmable when wired up .The round rustic farmhouse chandelier is simple to assemble and can be installed on flat, sloped, or vaulted ceilings. Perfect for dining room, living room, kitchen islands, office, or areas with high ceilings like foyers, entryways, staircase, or porch.
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