#tuxedo labs

[savingcontent]

Things get a bit alien in "The Greenwash Gambit", the third DLC for Teardown - out today

Continue reading Things get a bit alien in “The Greenwash Gambit”, the third DLC for Teardown – out today

[an-aussie-button-masher]

Breaking Good - Five Games That Scratch the Destructive Itch

   Some games are all about creation, building up the world and the people around you. These are not those games. Have you ever had the urge to just break something? Has a rough day got you feeling frustrated and needing an outlet? Don’t want to blow your actual house up, and are willing to settle for a virtual version? Try out these games! Here, you can tear apart everything from cars and buildings to entire cities and global populations without even getting out of your seat. Get ready to channel all those destructive urges into this handful of games all about the art of annihilation. Read on to break it down one game at a time - enjoy!

Besiege    Good news! Someone has entrusted you with the construction of medieval siege engines. A master architect like yourself must build deadly war machines to destroy your enemies - assuming your creations don’t accidentally just tear themselves apart the moment they start rolling. You have countless weapons and upgrades at your disposal - flamethrowers, saws, spikes, cannons, bombs, rockets, armour plating, and more. Manoeuvre around traps and the environment with steering (or just blindly flailing around) to launch attacks upon the panicking enemy forces, their camps, their castles, their own machines, and so on. There’s also plenty of “eh, that’s good enough” moments where the scorched remains of your construction just happen to flatten one last bit of the enemy camp to earn a technical victory. Finally, you can enter the unlimited-resource Sandbox mode to make some truly staggering behemoths that will bring everything in its path - including your PC - to its knees.

BeamNG.drive    Strictly speaking, this is merely a driving-themed physics simulation, with a handful of driving challenges for some more standard gameplay. Of course, we all know that “physics simulator” is just code for “how fast can I mangle this car?” Enter Beam.NG’s sandbox, and you’ll be able to answer that question and more with a wide-open playground, littered with obstacles, ramps, half-pipes, bot controls, gravity options, and everything you could need for all your automobile abuse. It’s a great way to spend some spare time answering all the important questions, such as: What happens when this hatchback is struck from all sides by five trucks accelerating at Mach 5? Which sports car fares better under Jupiter’s gravitational pull? How many lamp posts do I need to hit to peel this tour bus like a banana? The sky's the limit - literally, because I once propelled a limousine straight up like a rocket before it flattened against the map height limit like it was made of paper.

Plague Inc: Evolved    Global pandemics are the last thing anyone wants to dwell on at the moment, but there’s nothing wrong with enjoying a bit of virtual virus-spreading! In Plague Inc., you can pick your poison, choose where your patient zero appears, and let yourself feel like a cackling supervillain for a little while. Carefully select your methods of transmission to spread across the land, skies and seas around the globe before anyone realises what’s wrong, then hit them with the symptoms all at once and watch chaos unfold! It’s highly satisfying to watch those population numbers dwindle and the world turn red as newly-infected dots consume entire countries. Eventually, humanity tries to fight back and you’ll need to battle the world’s efforts to concoct a cure - no laboratory will be safe for long! In this game, you can wipe out the planet’s entire population with careful planning and ruthlessness, all from the safety of the digital screen - no need to wash your hands after playing with this particular plague.

Teardown    What’s this game about, you ask? It’s in the name - tearing everything down! Playing as a legally-questionable demolitionist, the player is hired to destroy buildings (and sometimes steal stuff from the rubble), then make a hasty getaway before police arrive. There are plenty of tools of destruction unlocked over the course of the game, from the reasonable (sledgehammers, welding torches, and so on) to the overkill (dynamite and other explosives, and even a shotgun). Use the tools of the trade to strategically - or randomly - knock out the load-bearing supports and watch as the entire mansion, shopping centre, docks, or whatever you’re demolishing crashes down and shatters into millions of little voxel bits. The modding community really cranks up the destruction to a whole new level: slice entire cities in half with a flick of the mouse, punch whale-sized holes through skyscrapers with giant cannons, or go full Majora’s Mask and flatten the whole place by bringing down the moon. Another job well done!

Goat Simulator    Behold, the original and definitive “mischievous wildlife enters city and causes problems on purpose” video game: Goat Simulator. Why is a goat so intent on trashing the town and bending the laws of physics to its will? Who knows? It’s a goat, it - and the player - can do what it wants. As you unleash your hoofed havoc across the unsuspecting town, you’ll discover unique hidden interactions that transform your goat and grant new abilities - flying majestically through the air, scaling skyscrapers with your stretchy tongue, or summoning demonic powers to drag every nearby loose prop (and pedestrian) towards you. The game truly embraces the hilarity of ragdoll physics; nobody in this game seems to have a cohesive skeleton as they flail about like a wet noodle at the slightest headbutt. In Goat Simulator 3 (yes, it’s so big they had to skip a second game), the goat is set loose on a brand-new sprawling map, now with friends in co-operative mayhem!

   Okay, put down the sledgehammer - that’s enough destruction for today. Unless, of course, you know any other games that might fit this list that you’d like to share; if so, feel free to let me know! Feedback, reblogs and likes are all much appreciated!   Thanks for reading!

An Aussie Button-Masher

[classfelidae]

I’m almost certain I’ve seen you discuss this before but I cannot find the post…

what is the reasoning behind adam and lawrence’s design? do they parallel each other in any way That may not be apparent on first glance? I must know

Okay; I’ll start with Lawrence, then Adam, and then I’ll talk abt their dynamic

For Lawrence, I chose a Labrador Retriever.

He is a very level headed, intelligent character throughout the film, aside from when he goes crazy- this reflects the Labrador’s calm temperament.

Labradors (and golden retrievers) are often associated with the idealistic suburban life, often pictured with a happy, flawless family. Lawrence has this, a loving family, a daughter, financial stability; yet he cheats on his wife, this is why he’s tested. He’s a healer who needs some healing.

Moving onto the doctor side of it, Labradors are often used in medical settings doing a variety of jobs, such as guiding or therapy.

As for his looks, Lawrence has a very square face and pretty earnest eyes, which remind me of a Labrador; he’s also a little chubby, and blonde. He’s based on English line Labradors in specific, which is the image I’ve attached. They are more stocky in appearance than the American line.

Adam is based on a street cat motif. He’s a voyeur, a stalker. He keeps to the shadows as he follows his subject. He watches. Much like a cat.

Adam lives on the rough side of town, completely opposite to Lawrence. He lives on scraps and does what he does to survive.

Adam is also much more panicked in the trap than Lawrence, but also struggles to take it seriously at the same time, like the flighty but playful nature of a cat.

And also; he wakes up in a bathtub. Cats. Hate. Water.

As for looks, Adam is p short but skinny, he doesn’t have a big nose, but it’s pointy, which reminds me of the triangular shape of a cats nose. I chose a tuxedo colouration for him because of the traits associated with that coat. They are often playful and chaotic kitties.

As for them together; Adam and Lawrence just have a very cat and dog dynamic. They’re constantly bickering with one another throughout the course of the film, their back and forth arguments being one of my favourite things about them as an avid chainshipper.

Lawrence’s levelheaded approach to the trap combatted with Adam’s sassy quips.

Funnily enough, a third character is also included in this dynamic. Zepp; the rat. Killed by the cat ;)

[phoenix-experiment-13]

@experiment14-12 presents...

The Neutralizer Crew!

These 3 misfits share a refurbished bus in the middle of a forest, gathering scrap to fend for their lives in a deadly apocalypse, where a disease called the Cephalon Virus broke out after a failed science experiment. These are the "tourists" in town.

Taku is by @nottakusblog. I just made their concept design.

Askbox is open for them.

[measuredandslow]

Why is he purring like a proud dragon dad 😂

[alg3a]

auspicious (pt. 1)

jayce x f!reader x viktor / jayvik x f!reader

4k, sfw for now, no use of y/n

description: Viktor and Jayce’s new lab assistant is the hottest topic at a council gala. After defending herself all night, an accidental confession leads to tension in the workplace.

warnings: suggestive content, brief and light misogyny (don’t worry), manipulative reader, lab assistant dynamic, basically the last third is foreplay.

a/n: This is my first ever tumblr fic! If you guys would like, i will add an nsfw second part.

Update: second part added!

Say what you will about Councilor Salo, but his galas never disappointed. There must have been three hundred of the city’s most influential people scattered about the grand ballroom, which stretched further than you could see with your naked eye. It was the first you’d ever seen of these exquisite parties, and you silently hoped that it wouldn’t be the last.

You’d been the lab assistant of the two Hextech partners for around three months now. With the public eye being enthralled with the activities of the two intelligent scientists, it wasn’t long before the spectacle included you, their pretty new lab assistant. You were in your final year in the academy’s undergraduate program and had been a promising enough engineering student to be hired by Viktor and Jayce. Your name was a prevalent one in every inventor’s competition and innovator’s fair, so naturally they had heard of you before your interview. From what you heard, there were nearly fifty other applicants (mostly girls) and yet they hired you on the spot. Naturally, once this story aired, the press was obsessed with you. Piltover Gazette did an entire piece on you about a month into your employment.

With all the attention, Jayce thought it might be a good idea for you to tag along at galas and parties as the plus-one of both men. They never brought dates, so the position was always wide open. Although, Jayce did usually leave with a plus-one.

You wore a deep red sleek gown with a plunging neckline and an absent back. The men matched their ties to your dress, but the rest of their outfits were mostly black and ivory. It wasn’t long before you were whisked away to the dancefloor by influential older men, who talked your ear off about how lucky you must find yourself to be shadowing two promising young inventors. You cringed each time you heard it. You were certainly lucky to have landed the position, but the way they phrased it made it seem like you were some teenage girl who was asked to the school dance by the two cutest boys in school. It wasn’t as trivial as that. Each day, you worked tirelessly alongside their genius minds to find solutions to real world problems using Hextech. You and Viktor spent countless nights asleep on opposite ends of the worn lab couch so that you could continue working at any hour.

Eventually, you grew tired of the misogyny from older male benefactors. You’d done enough socializing for the night, now it was time to patronize the open bar.

You found a spot between a woman in a gold dress and a man in a white tuxedo and asked the bartender politely for a whiskey sour. Once you finished speaking, the man in the white tuxedo turned to you.

“I recognize you,” he said, the scent of his aftershave mixing with the alcohol on his breath. “You’re the Hextech girl, aren’t you? I read your article in the Gazette.”

You sighed as the bartender handed you your drink, pressing a polite smile to your lips with the exhale. “Yes, that’s me. It’s a pleasure.” You hold out your hand and he brings it to his lips with a kiss longer than you would have liked.

“The pleasure is all mine, dear,” he said, setting his glass down. “You know, it’s very uncommon for an undergraduate girl to land such an auspicious spot amongst lead researchers at the academy.”

Here we go again. In the time it takes for him to finish the same spiel you’d heard all night, you finish your drink in one continuous sip. You punctuate the end of his sentence by putting your glass down roughly on the counter.

“Yes, I’m incredibly lucky,” you say, your polite smile turning vaguely murderous. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Jayce and Viktor approaching the bar.

“Enough prattle from me,” the man says and holds out his pasty hand once more. “I think it’s time for a dance.”

“Are we interrupting?” Jayce asks, his usual charming smile adorning his chiseled face.

“Not at all!” The man in white says, jovially. No doubt feeling blessed to speak to the men whose egos he spent the last five minutes stroking.

“In fact you came at the perfect time,” you say, smushing yourself between Jayce and Viktor, and wrapping your arms around their arms, emboldened by the alcohol and desperate for a way out of this conversation. “We were just discussing how positively fortunate I am to be working for two accomplished, ambitious, handsome young inventors.”

Viktor furrows his eyebrows at you, then looks back up at Jayce. “Is that so?” He asks, suspicion dancing in his eyes.

“Yes,” you nod emphatically, then bring your attention back to the man in white. “Oh, I’m terribly sorry I’ll have to decline your offer to dance. But I’m sure you understand. When a young woman like myself is called upon by men so far above my humble station, I simply must recognize how—what was the word you used earlier—how auspicious my position is.”

The man seems lost in your rambling, but you notice Jayce and Viktor smiling at one another and avoiding the man’s gaze.

“Ehem, well alright,” the man says, finally. “You three have a pleasant night.”

“Thank you,” Jayce says, his smile becoming a smirk. “We will.”

Jayce places his hand on your lower back and guides you away as Viktor follows, now placing his weight on his cane.

“Are we missing something?” Viktor asks.

“We came to check up on you,” Jayce said. “That guy at the bar was eyeing you like you were his next cocktail.”

“Gross,” you shudder at the thought. Jayce’s hand rubs the exposed skin of your lower back gently. Your eyes dart toward the ground at the sudden awareness of the intimacy of the touch. You shrug off the chill heading up your spine. “Please, never invite me to one of these again. I’ve heard enough old men insinuating that I’m the lab’s little piece of ass.”

“They’re saying that?” Viktor said sharply, stopping in his path as he turned to face you, his hand on your shoulder.

“Well, not exactly that, but practically every conversation is monopolized by my male counterpart lecturing me on what a privilege it is to spend my days ogling at you two.”

Jayce snickers a bit, but Viktor shoots him a stern look.

“That’s highly inappropriate. I’m terribly sorry you experienced such a blatant display of the antiquated beliefs these upper houses hold.” Viktor shakes his head as if he is shaking off the experience like a dog drying off.

“Vik and I were just talking about leaving, anyway,” Jayce says, his hand resuming its ministrations on your back. “We can call a car and go, just say the word.”

You look around the room and remember the reason you’re here in the first place. Galas are the primary way for the two inventors at either side of you to network and receive funding for their projects. Jayce abhorred the politics and the whole reason exhausted, introverted Viktor even bears the social tedium of these parties when he’d rather be slaving away in the lab is because he knows none of their ventures can be broadened without doing the dance. In a singular moment you realize that if they can stomach the routine dreariness of the social game that these parties provide, so can you. You are their prized assistant after all.

“It's okay,” you shake your head. “It’s really not that bad.”

“Are you sure?” Viktor asks, his head tilting.

“Yes, I’m sure,” you nod. “I just have to get used to the manner at which these sorts of events go on. But I can do it. If you’ll recall, adaptability was a strength on my resume.”

This earns a laugh from both of the men. Jayce removes his hand from your lower back to rub your shoulder softly. “I think we glossed over that part.”

Viktor stops laughing suddenly, which elicits a raised eyebrow from you.

“What?” You ask, your eyes darting between Viktor and Jayce. Jayce’s lips press together in a tight seal as if he caught himself letting something slip. “What do you mean?”

Just in time to save them from the obviously impending awkward situation, a man in an all black suit approaches.

“Gentlemen, if I may borrow your lovely assistant for a dance–”

You felt your cheeks growing hot with every word he spoke. You were so incredibly tired of old men here thinking they could just ask politely and receive your body to use in whatever stupid waltz they wanted to try their hand at. “Gods, I don’t–”

“My apologies,” Jayce said, interrupting what he was sure would be an outburst on your part. “I’m afraid our lovely assistant is spoken for, for the rest of the night.”

Viktor punctuated his sentence with a nod and a gentle squeeze of your upper arm.

“I see,” the man said, his face betraying his civility. “Well, find me if that changes.”

As soon as the man was out of earshot, Viktor released your arm. “Call that car, Jayce.”

“On it,” he said, already beginning to make his way to the front of the ballroom.

“I’ve been where you are,” Viktor said, his nimble fingers trailing downward from where he had been squeezing your arm. He lifts your hand and places it on his wrist so that you cling to him as the two of you walk toward the exit together. “When I was Heimerdinger’s assistant, I was often undermined. Although, I had the distinct privilege of not being a beautiful young woman. While I can relate to your frustration, the misogyny and objectification you’re experiencing aren’t exactly things Jayce and I have experienced. But we’re going to do our best to quell it for you.”

You look up at him and find his hardened expression fixed on the door. “Thank you.” Those two words will suffice for now, but Viktor’s promise warms your heart in ways that a simple thank you cannot express.

Jayce finds the two of you as you exit into the grand hallway. “Car’s waiting outside.” He takes his coat off and drapes it over your shoulders, not paying much attention to your hand on Viktor’s arm.

The three of you pile in the back of the limousine. You sit sandwiched between the two men, relishing in the warmth radiating from their bodies after the few steps outside in the cold night. Viktor stretches his leg outward in the spacious backseat while Jayce leans back and groans. Clearly you aren’t the only one exhausted from the antics of the night.

“Where will I be taking you three?” The driver asks, his eyes visible in the rearview mirror.

“Two stops, if possible,” Jayce speaks up, leaning forward once more to be heard better. “The laboratory block of the academy and the East Dormitories.”

“You guys are going to the lab? It’s almost midnight.” You ask, turning to Jayce before realizing how the proximity of the backseat brings your face so close to his.

“Always work to be done,” Jayce says, glancing over your face before giving you a little more space. “But don’t worry, you’ve had a long night. You don’t need to do any assisting again until tomorrow morning.”

You look over at Viktor momentarily, to see him staring out the window as the car begins to move.

“If it’s alright, I think I’d like to go to the lab, too,” you say, softly. You can’t help but feel as though you’re inviting yourself to some clandestine meeting, as if you don’t have as much of a reason to be at the lab as they do.

Jayce looks over at Viktor, not for confirmation but for something else. Humor, maybe?

“Of course,” Jayce smiles softly. He shifts his attention to the driver again. “On second thought, just take us to the labs, please.”

The driver nods as he picks up speed and peels out of the driveway. For some reason, your heart pounds. It isn’t abnormal for you and the two men to stay ridiculously late at the lab. In fact, it’s more common than leaving before midnight.

You become suddenly aware of the long slit that opens your deep red dress, and you cross your legs.

“Jayce I wanted to ask you something,” you say, mustering up the courage to recall the slip-up from earlier. “What did you mean when you said you glossed over my resume?”

“Well…” Jayce looks over at Viktor, which makes you do the same. Now he’s definitely paying attention, his eyebrows two firm lines scrunched above his angular nose.

Viktor finally decides to chime in, and you know exactly why: Jayce isn’t a good liar.

“We had lots of applications,” Viktor said. “You know that.”

“Yeah, but…then why did you hire me?”

“You had a very promising interview,” Viktor says, now avoiding eye contact.

“You’re lying to me,” you say, more accusatory than you meant it to be.

“We should just tell her, Vik,” Jayce mutters, almost under his breath. In response, Viktor’s hard expression softens. Perhaps out of relief?

“Tell me what?”

“Fine,” Viktor says, finally, with an exhausted sigh. “I’m too tired to persuade you against it.”

Jayce puts a hand so low on your thigh that it’s almost on your knee. “First, it’s important that you know that we would have hired you regardless. You’re so incredibly talented and you’ve been such a good assistant; we have no doubt in our minds that you’re the perfect person for this job.”

“Regardless of what, Jayce?”

“A little help, Vik?” Jayce asks after a sigh of helpless frustration.

“We sent everyone else home after your interview,” Viktor said, still looking out of the window, his arm resting on the ledge of the door, fidgeting with the handle. “When we saw you for the first time, we decided we wanted to see you more often.”

“What?” You feel your face growing hot. Anger? Something else entirely?

“The first note I wrote during your interview just said ‘beautiful,’ and I don’t think I wrote anything down after that,” Jayce admitted.

“You can’t be serious,” you say at a volume so low it might be a whisper. Anger. Definitely anger. “All night…all night I was swatting away guys who were objectifying me…accusing me of just being your pretty little assistant. I thought it was just misogyny. I thought they just couldn’t believe a girl was capable of keeping up with you two…but apparently they were right.”

“That’s not the case, at all,” Viktor said, louder than you’d ever heard him. “It couldn’t be further from the truth. We weren’t objectifying you. You deserve respect for your accomplishments, and those accomplishments are numerous.”

“He’s right, it’s not like we just hired you to look at,” Jayce said, trying to reconcile the situation. “And it’s not like I didn’t write notes during your interview because there wasn’t anything to write. I stopped writing because I was captivated by you.”

Suddenly the weight of the situation falls onto you, all at once. These men, your bosses, your best friends, the two smartest, most accomplished scientists in Piltover…they were attracted to you.

“For three months?” You ask, softly, more to yourself than to them.

“Yes,” Viktor answered. “We understand if you’re upset with us.”

The car slowed to a stop against the curb of the laboratory building of the academy.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to go into the lab anymore,” Jayce said, beginning to lean forward and opening his mouth to address the driver. “Hey, sorry, could you–”

“No,” you say, your words final. “I’m going into the lab with you.”

Your lips are a deep red firm line. Your eyes are unreadable, and neither of the boys can tell what you’re thinking. Even you hardly know, but one thing is certain: you find yourself in an auspicious position. You didn’t need the two boys to validate you for everything listed on your resume. They knew you were intelligent, and more importantly, you knew. What you didn’t know is that they found you beautiful. So much so that they hired you just to see you more often.

You’d spent the whole night trying to defend your own honor, being shaken by men with accusatory, wandering hands. More than that, you’d spent the night wandering awkwardly for the benefit of your bosses. Now, it was time to return the favor.

“If you’re sure,” Jayce said, pushing open the car door and stepping out onto the curb, holding it open for you as Viktor exited through the other door. As you brushed past Jayce, you let his coat fall delicately down your shoulders, revealing the deep backline of the dress.

You turn over your right shoulder, just enough for your face to be past profile, and narrow your eyes at him. “I’m sure.”

Once Viktor is out of the car, the three of you walk toward the large glass doors that lead to the lobby of the laboratory building. You stop in front of the keycard sensor and watch as Viktor pats down his pant pockets in search of his key card.

“Sorry, one second,” he says.

You approach him, with no sound but the clicking of your heels on the cold pavement below, and slide your hand into his coat pocket. You watch his jaw clench, never taking your eyes off his face as you pinch the plastic card between your pointer and middle finger. You pull it out like a cigarette before waving it in front the boys’ faces and tapping it against the small metal sensor. It beeps with a green flash and you hand the card back to Viktor. Neither of them says a word.

You enter through the glass doors, but at the lack of footsteps behind you, you turn around. The men still stand, staring at you, mouths slightly agape.

“What?” You ask. “Aren’t you coming?”

Jayce coughs, as if fighting something in his throat, then takes a few steps forward and follows you.

You press the call button on the elevator and wait as the boys stand on either side of you.

“If you’re upset with us, please say so,” Viktor said, his voice bordering pleading.

“Upset?” You tilt your head to look up at the man beside you. Even in heels they were both taller than you. “Do I look upset?”

“I–uh well, I am not sure. You look…focused.”

You were definitely focused. Yes, you were playing with them. Wasn’t it only fair that you return a bit of the awkwardness provided by their sudden confession in the car? This was you getting even for that embarrassment, and you’d soon be getting even for the long-kept secret, as well.

“Strange,” you say as the elevator door opens before you. You step in and turn to face the door. “Jayce, press four.”

He does as you say.

“And how do you think I look, Jayce?” You ask, your eyes shifting toward him in the confined space of the elevator. He repeats that same little choked cough from before, except now it sounds closer to him clearing his throat.

“I think you look very good.”

You smile at him. Not a kind one, but the sort of condescending smile one gives a child who gave the wrong answer. A cute answer, though.

“Thanks,” you say, your eyes returning back to the door. “But I was asking if you thought I looked angry.”

The door beeps open and you are the first to leave. As you walk down the long hallway, you hear the boys walking a yard behind you. They’re nervous, that much you can sense on the cold bare skin of your back.

You stop at the lab door at the end of the hall and wait for the boys to catch up. It’s the biggest lab on the fourth floor.

Viktor now has his keys at the ready and unlocks the large wooden door, then holds it open for you to enter before the two boys. How spoiled you are.

You saunter into the lab, letting Jayce’s coat fall all the way down your shoulders before draping it on a stool next to the counter. They attempt to ignore you, bee-lining toward their desks in the lab but you catch each time their eye wanders to you on the opposite side of the room. Often they alternate, glancing over while the other is talking about the equations they're working through or the tools they need to assemble something. Every so often, they look over at you at the exact same time, following whispers you can’t quite make out, and when they do it is absolutely silent.

Meanwhile, you’re pouring the wine that you’ve been stashing in the cabinet meant for volatile chemical solutions. You’ve laid out three glasses, but you only fill the one in the middle. You sip from it slowly, your eyes peeking out from above the glass rim so you can catch them every time they look over at you.

“What are you doing?” Jayce asks, exasperatedly, finally.

“What do you mean?” You ask, and continue to sip your wine.

“We said we were sorry–”

“No, actually you didn’t.” You finish your glass and set it back down between the two empty glasses. “You said you understood if I was mad. And you tried to explain yourselves.”

“We are sorry,” Viktor said. “Terribly sorry. For lying, and for…objectifying you.”

“I thought you said it wasn’t objectification?” You said, still bitter despite the joy you extracted from teasing these poor boys.

“It doesn’t matter what we think we did or did not do,” Viktor said, the thickness of his accent swallowing his nervous words. “What matters is that you are hurt, and that we are terribly sorry.”

“I’m not hurt.”

“Eh…you’re not?” It wasn’t often that Viktor sounded confused, so you relished the question.

“No.”

“Then what’s wrong?” Jayce asked.

You poured wine into the two glasses on either side of your own and smiled as you looked down at the liquid filling them. You pushed the glasses toward them and raised your eyebrows expectantly. As if well trained, they walked over to you at the counter and picked up their glasses, taking small sips each.

“You could call it disbelief,” you said. “Or plain shock.”

“I understand that we sprung a lot on you all at once–” Viktor started to say, but you raised your hand.

“I’m not in disbelief because you’re attracted to me, Viktor, I’m far too self-assured for that.”

Jayce stifles a laugh.

“I’m in disbelief because I’ve wasted three months pretending not to be attracted to either of you,” you say, coming out from behind the counter and going to sit on the couch in the center of the room. You’d done an excellent job decorating their lab and had managed to make it feel like a home rather than a detention room.

“What are you saying?” Jayce asks, setting his glass down and stepping toward you. Viktor follows his example.

“I’m saying that if you had just told me ages ago that you two felt that way, I’d be laughing at the men who asked to dance with me tonight instead of clenching my fists. I’ve spent three months pushing aside any thought of you two outside of professional settings because I didn’t want to be the naive little lab assistant fawning over her bosses.”

A strap of your dress slips off of your left shoulder, and you let it.

“What a waste,” you scoff as you lean back into the cushions of the couch. You pick your hair up so that it falls over the cushions and cascades like a waterfall.

“So…” you watch as the gears in Jayce’s genius brain turn, “if we had told you sooner then–”

“Then you could have had me sooner.”

NSFW PART TWO????

[kokii-omii]

My Twst ocs as Cats

ok i forgot some of these breeds so just bear with me and I literally just searched up cat pictures but it works cuz i got the pics i wanted

Ryuuko and Yumeko (Ryuuko is specifically a maine coon cuz they're big af)

Rin and Yuki

the twins are tuxedo cats and Maddie is a calico with heterochromia

Krohn and Ezmond but Krohn isn't a cat and instead is a Chocolate Lab

Pan and Peyn but peyn is specifically this pic of an angry kitten i found

I'll reblog the rest because i cant fit any more pictures in here

[arjudy224]

The Intern: Outreach Gala

Another uneventful day for Gotham's environmental intern...

The Intern: Gotham x reader

Prequel: Death of a family

The Intern: Day one

The Intern: The Laughing Fish

The Intern Field Trip

The Intern: Busy Work

The Intern: Outreach Gala

The Intern: Teachers Pet

The Intern: Visiting an old friend

The Intern: Chemical Valley

The Intern: Billionaire Boys Club

Gotham's public library appears unrecognizable under the cloak of night. Broad leaves shroud the outside exterior of the Gothic pillars while ivy cascades down the large door frames. Harris raises an eyebrow.

"How many forests do you think Wayne destroyed in his quest to save the planet?" He questions with a smirk.

Each grey hair is perfectly gelled out of his face. Ditching his glasses for the occasion, Dr. Harris may actually care about tonight's guests. The bouncer outside the door seemed to think the dress code was not a laughing matter.

Taking his extended arm, I roll my eyes. The security guy nods to the two of us as we walk through the door.

"Professor, if you keep saying things like that Gordon's going to question your stances on Gotham's resident Eco-terrorist. " I whisper with a smile. "....but at least 12."

Thanks to the joint collaboration between Wayne Industries, Goth-corp, and the Gotham Department of Environmental Protection. Gotham City is hosting its first Environmental Outreach Gala for the nearby tri-state area.

My heart flutters a little bit as a realization hits me. I’m actually here… surrounded by giants in clean energy and the scientific community alike. Award-winning journalists... All for the future of our planet. Passing my reflection, I smile thinking of how far I’ve come from that little river rat back at home.

A figure in the corner of my eye draws my thoughts away from the Grandma debrief. Dick Grayson, the Billionaire’s son, charms the group of ladies by his side. I take a mental note to find time to talk to him when there isn’t such a big crowd. It's been a long time since we last spoke.

The walls echo with the idle chatter coming from the rich socialites of Gotham. Waiters in tuxedos maneuver silently with a tray of champagne flutes in each hand. Considering, that most environmental professionals wear cargo pants from the early 2000s to work... the dress code was definitely a choice. I scan the room for familiar faces. Gordon flashes me a smile from across the room. I nod back. The Mayor works his way around the room with a large smile. It must be an election year.

My throat gets tight. I'm not ready for this. Looking to my right, I find that Dr. Harris has vanished into the crowd.

"Y/N L/N?" A voice calls distracting me from my nerves.

A well-dressed man strolls over. Something about him puts me on edge. Maybe it's his wicked smile or the large emerald ring on his outstretched hand. He walks with an easy air of confidence.

"Lex Luthor."

My heart does a little tap dance in my chest. The tight fabric of my rental dress makes it hard to breathe. I shake his hand politely. The party-goers go quiet around us. From the corner of my eye, Lois Lane, an investigative reporter from Metropolis, shoves through the crowd. So much for being a fly on the wall.

"I recently worked with a Professor of yours. She had a lot to say about your graduate proposal."

This cannot be happening. Memories of those long fights in the lab flash in the back of my mind. Mr. Luthor's cat-like gaze observes my reaction curiously.

I cover my face in embarrassment. That woman deserves hate mail. I could have at least been asked to type or spell-check it beforehand.

"To be frank, I originally chose the topic to get a rise outta her. Dr. Hendrix had me doing dishes for 3 weeks straight after I accidentally messed up a sample, so I wrote a proposal I knew she wouldn't like."

When I finally uncover my face, Luthor stares down at me with an amused grin.

"Even so. I'd like to discuss potential funding opportunities in Metropolis. If this is something you would think up out of boredom, I'd love to see what you can do when you put your mind to it."

That brings a smile to my face.

"Really? Everyone who I've brought it up to has been apprehensive about researching Kryptionian radiation.

"We need more scientists to ask questions Ms. L/N. Even the ones, that people don't want to know the answer to. "

The sullen green glow draws my eye once again to Mr. Luthor's ring finger... Wait, that's not an emerald. That's Kryptonite.

"Is this a personal interest of yours?" I ask slowly glancing between his eyes and his ring.

"In some ways."

An unspoken conversation occurs when he notices my acknowledgement of his strange choice of jewelry. The silence only creates more questions. Why would you wear something you know is irradiated?

"I hope to hear from you soon." Mr. Luthor concludes after handing me a business card, "There is always a spot at Lexcorp for a future scientist with your talents."

I stand there in silence watching him leave. The sleek modern design of the card lists only the bare essentials: his name, office address, and contact information in silver lettering.

Four hours ago, I was hauling boxes for the decorating committee. Huh. A nearby waiter offers a champagne flute from the tray. Respectfully, I turn them down. This dress costs more than my rent.

“Oh no. Thank you. I am… working.”

"Does work-life balance not apply to interns?” A voice interrupts.

I try not to roll my eyes at the "intern" comment. The constant reminders of my status are getting old. Starting at his perfectly buffed dress shoes, my gaze drags along the fabric of his black designer suit. Dick Grayson sure does like to make an entrance. With his dark curls and friendly blue eyes, his familiar smile knocks over my defenses. Sipping on his drink, he waits for my response with a teasing grin. His energy is contiguous. I ignore his question to ask my own instead.

“Has anyone told you that you tend to appear out of nowhere?”

His striking eyes light up with a mischievous glint.

“You have no idea.” He laughs, "It's nice to see you back in Gotham. It's been a long time."

"It has. From the rumors, you have been up to quite a bit of trouble." I joke gesturing to the envious eyes from across the room.

He raises a curious eyebrow.

“Good things I hope?”

Glancing around the room, I ignore the dozen eyes staring daggers in my direction. Academia can be such a bitch.

“Nothing too crazy: a few murders, unfounded accusations, and you might be an alien?”

Dick grimaces while tilting his head ever so slightly. He swirls his drink, yet doesn't take a sip.

“Sounds about right. Anything you believe? “

I pause... Do I play coy?

“I’m not sure an alien could do a quadruple summersault.”

Something flashes in his eyes that I don’t quite understand. For a moment, I wonder if I should have held my tongue. His suspicion morphs into the first genuine smile I've seen all evening.

“You’ve kept tabs on me Y/N.”

Before I can respond, a scream causes the ballroom to descend into chaos. Vines shoot out from under the floorboards while the native plants start attacking the guest. A woman with flaming red hair paces the floor. Her vines wrap around each person one by one…. A thorny bush springs out of a fallen leaf snagging my delicate rental dress.

Dammit Pamela. We talked about this.

Glancing at the bartender's horrified expression, I frown.

“I change my mind. I’ll have that drink now.”

[yuurei20]

Lilia Facts Part 22: Cute

Jade says that “Lilia prides himself on his cuteness,” and this seems to be true: Lilia explains that he realized this himself one day after people at a marketplace started complimenting him on how cute he was and giving him things for free.

Deciding to make full use of his charm, he will accept gifts like free carriage rides and shopping discounts.

Epel is shocked by the very idea, asking if he is not being mocked, but Lilia explains it is important to use the tools that are available to you.

Even at NRC Lilia's classmates would save a seat for him in the cafeteria, carry his things and dote on him, but as his true strength became apparent over time he is now seen as reliable.

Lilia says he had planned to fill the role of everyone’s younger brother, but he doesn’t mind it when people say he is cool, instead.

In his Phantom Bride outfit Lilia says he was going for a cool look, but ended up looking adorable. “I always underestimate my own charm!”

Lilia also says even these days he tries to “act like Diasomnia’s adorable mascot.”

After waking up on the island for the Stitch event, the first thing Lilia asks is, “Am I as adorable as I ought to be?,” and he is pleased if the prefect responds, “Definitely adorable.”

Lilia seems to prefer being cute to cool, saying that he puts up with the inconvenience of his oversized lab coat sleeves because “it’s cuter this way.”

Lilia is rejected by Eliza for being too cute. Sebek responds, “YOU'RE EVEN CUTER THAN THE GHOST HERSELF!”

When Lilia asks if his tsum is not the cutest thing they have ever seen (“Just like me!”), Silver agrees that the smaller version of Lilia is undeniably adorable.

Lilia’s chooses Stitch over Gantu during the Stitch event as “Stitch is clearly much cuter and way more fun."

During Cloudcalling he reflects on how everything he wears suits him because he is so charming, and while Kalim looked cute in his outfit, he was not as cute as Lilia himself.

Lilia seems to enjoy compliments, encouraging Kalim to “keep it coming” after Kalim says he looks like he jumped out of a storybook in his tuxedo.

Lilia refers to himself as an “elusive beauty,” “one seriously mysterious and attractive boy” with “boyish good looks,” and “princely” but seems to prefer describing himself as cute, as we see him say upon multiple occasions.

During the Stitch event Lilia declares, “Is there anything in this world more important than being cute? I say there isn’t!”

[archangeldyke-all]

okay i’ve seen people talk about werewolf sevika but what about werecat sevika like she gives off such cat vibes she’s an introvert who so would love sitting by her window or on her porch watching things also i’ve always headcanoned that she literally purrs when you scratch her head so werecat sev just makes sense to me

YES i fucking LOVE THIS

this is what i think sevika would look like in cat form btw hehehehehe (send me cats u think sevika would look like too! i want to see all ur ideas)

men and minors dni

it all starts with a loose lab-cat. singed had pumped the thing with shimmer and underestimated its strength. he returned to the lab the next morning to a broken glass cage, quickly followed by hissing and hollering coming from the bar.

sevika stepped on the cat's tail where it had been sleeping beneath a table. in return, the cat sunk it's claws into sevika's calf-- four deep scratches running down her leg-- dripping half blood red, half shimmer pink.

singed told her she'd be okay.

he told her to go home and sleep it off and that she'd be fine.

singed is a fucking liar.

the next full moon, sevika turns into a cat.

not a panther, or a lion, or a fucking tiger or something cool. a fucking house cat. and a tiny one too.

she didn't tell anyone. who could she tell? singed would just try to strap her to a lab table and start experimenting on her. silco would probably just laugh. jinx might be her best bet if she wanted answers, but she fears that jinx would do something horrible like pet her or something.

so she just... deals with it.

the more full moons that pass, the more used to it she gets, and the more she can transform herself at will without the moon's powers.

she kinda likes being a cat. it's useful as fuck in the undercity, with all it's steep walls and drop-offs. it gives her crystal clear vision, even in the deepest darkest streets; it gives her great instincts, even in her human form, and...

there's nothing quite like finding a stray beam of sun and curling up for a few minutes to snooze on a peaceful day. both in her human and cat form.

which is how she meets you.

you live on a high floor of a big apartment building in the lanes. it's miserable climbing up and down the stairs multiple times a day, but the nice thing about it is you're high up enough to get some direct sunlight in your home for a good few hours a day.

you don't have a cat-- your landlord would kill you. but you keep a two little pots of catnip and catgrass growing on your fire-escape, a little tin of water and some tuna or chicken when you've got scraps to spare.

you've got a few cats that come to visit you a few times a week, all varying levels of friendly.

the white stray visits every afternoon to snack on your plants, sometimes bringing a skinny orange friend along with her. you let them be, watching fondly through the window as they groom each other.

there's a fat tuxedo cat that you know has an owner somewhere in the neighborhood, that seems to know when you set out food scraps-- always there in a flash to gobble them up. he's friendly as hell, meowing incessantly at your window until you open it up for him and let him come in to get pets for a few hours before returning home for dinner.

there's a new litter of calico kittens you've caught sight of. you think there's five or six separate kitties, but you can never keep track because they grow so and change so much between your sightings of them.

and then there's your newest visitor.

she's a unique cat, silver eyes, only three legs, her left front leg missing completely. there's blue scratches running down her left side, shimmering in the sun when the wind blows her fur away enough for you to see them.

and she doesn't eat any of your plants, or drink any of your water. most of the time, you come home and find her sleeping in a ray of sun. and every time when she wakes up and realizes you're home, the cat will jump up on your windowsill and simply watch you; her tail twitching occasionally in the wind, purring loud enough for you to hear through the little window as her silver eyes follow your every movement inside.

.....

sevika's fucked.

she's so, so, so fucked.

she's been fucking stabbed, twice, and she's loosing blood so quickly that she's starting to see spots.

the men who stabbed her are chasing her, and she's leaving a trail of blood right to herself. no matter how fast she runs, she's not going to lose them.

she's so woozy that she almost forgets that she's got fucking magical powers. she ducks into an alley and quickly transforms, before sprinting away. that takes care of those idiots beating her to death-- but it doesn't change the fact that sevika's dying.

she doesn't know where to go.

the last drop is way too far for her to get there before she bleeds out. she's got no friends in this neighborhood-- and people down here don't have the spare time, money, or sympathy for a dying street cat.

wait.

she knows someone who likes street cats.

someone sweet, and pretty, and always smiling and talking to her like she can speak human language. she can, but she knows your other cat visitors can't-- and it just makes her like you all the more- - the idea of you talking to some clueless cat, just like you talk to her.

she makes it to your fire escape just before her three legs give out.

and while her vision starts to fade completely, the clouds overhead move and a beam of sun shines down on her, the smell of your cat plants wafting over her as the wind blows.

well, sevika supposes. if i'm gonna die i guess this is the nicest place to do it.

you come home and find a dead woman on your fire escape... which isn't a total surprise in this neighborhood.

it's only when you go out to prod at her that you get really freaked out-- because she's not dead, just barely breathing.

you scramble to pull the woman inside your apartment, spreading her out on your bed and nearly throwing up at the sight of two deep stab wounds in her sides.

you've got some shimmer stored in your medicine cabinet in case of emergencies, and you quickly slide the liquid down her throat before scrambling to find something to stitch her side together with.

you aren't sure if it's a good thing or a bad thing when she starts blinking awake, groaning in pain and weakly trying to shove you away from her wounds.

"hey hey hey, wake up." you say, shaking her shoulders. she grunts and scrunches her face up. when her eyes blink open, your stomach twists.

you've never seen eyes that silver besides on the cat that comes to visit you. they're different on a person. much more attractive.

"uh..." you say, trailing off for a second suddenly realizing that the woman beneath you is very naked. and now that you're looking at her, the blue scars on her left side seem awfully familiar. you clear your throat. "uh, wake up." you say again, gently smacking her cheek.

she gasps awake when you start stitching up her second wound. "fuck!" she shouts. and then, she seems to process where she is. "fuck." she says.

you gulp. "uh, i'll get you a blanket." you offer.

sevika nods numbly as you-- the woman she's been shamelessly peeping on for the past year-- stumble out of your bedroom.

"i thought you were dead, honestly, and then you started moving and i got really freaked out. gave you some shimmer-- i hope you don't mind." you ramble as you walk back into your room, throwing a blanket over sevika. "is there anyone i should call for or...?"

"you're even prettier up close." she says. then she cringes.

fuck she didn't mean to say that. it must be the blood loss. and the shimmer. and your pretty eyes.

"uh..." sevika watches as you start to back away like you're scared, and she huffs before she gathers all her energy and transforms into her cat form. "what the fuck?!" you squawk as the woman in front of you disappears in thin air.

and then, a little lump under the covers starts to move.

and the three legged silver eyed cat comes crawling out, two new wounds on her side.

"what the fuck?" you ask, immedietly reaching forward to pet the cat in front of you. you don't consider that the cat is a woman-- it's your natural instinct-- you see a cat, you pet it.

but then the woman's back and your hand is in her hair and she's blushing all the way down to her tits which you can see because she's still naked.

"wha--"

"i'm sevika."

"hi, sevika." you giggle, slightly hysterical. sevika's blush gets even darker. "i'm--"

"i know." she cuts you off, then bites her lip in embarrassment and presses her head harder against your hand, like she's a cat. well, you suppose she kinda is. "i... sorry for stumbling into your life like this. i thought if i died as a cat i died in real life." sevika shrugs. "guess the whole nine lives thing is true, though."

"i don't--"

"i can leave, if you give me a pair of sweats or someth--"

"no!" you squeak. sevika smiles, and now you're embarrassed. "i-i mean... you're injured. you should stay until you're better..." sevika raises an eyebrow at you. "plus... you're kinda cute."

she grins. "as a cat or...?"

"fuck off." you giggle, crawling into bed beside her. "you've fucking... been watching me for a year! it's only fair i get to interrogate you, too, you creep."

"i-i'm not a creep!"

"you've seen me naked!"

"you didn't seem to mind at the time..." sevika pouts.

you can't believe how ridiculous this whole fucking situation is. sevika's blood drying into your mattress underneath the pair of you, but her skin is becoming more vibrant as the shimmer works through her system, flashes of pink sparkling in her silver eyes. she's practically purring as you scratch her scalp. you burst into laughter, and sevika grins up at you.

when you finally catch your breath, you shake your head and look down at the only sorta-stranger beneath you. "so, what are you... a werecat, or something?"

sevika groans before bursting into laughter with you.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@shimtarofstupidity @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @claude999 @nhaaauyen

[mostly-marvel-musings]

Chapter 1 - Terms and Conditions

A/N: Here we are, the first chapter of this series. I’m so excited!! Leave a heart, comment and reblog if you’ve enjoyed it.

Pairing: Tony Stark x Wife! Reader

Warning: slow burn.

Terms and Conditions

.

The reception was held at a private venue overlooking the New York skyline—a glittering palace of glass and ego where billionaires mingled with politicians, and journalists loitered in the shadows like champagne-drunk piranhas.

You stood at the top of a winding staircase, dress impeccable, posture flawless, and mind somewhere between fight-or-flight and where’s the emergency dessert table.

Next to you, Tony adjusted the cuff of his suit, gaze sweeping over the crowd like a man used to commanding armies and afterparties. He looked dazzling. Unbothered. A little too good at pretending.

“You ready for your public debut, Mrs. Stark?” he murmured without looking at you.

You gave a tight smile. “No. But my heels are already killing me, so I’m too far gone to back out now.”

Tony chuckled under his breath. “That’s the spirit.”

The announcement came seconds later—some flouncy voice introducing the newlyweds like royalty entering a battlefield. The staircase suddenly stretched into a catwalk, the steps longer, the air hotter.

He offered his arm. You took it. The cameras exploded like fireworks. You both descended with matching smiles, perfectly practiced and utterly hollow.

You made rounds like two diplomats negotiating peace, shaking hands, accepting compliments, dodging questions that were disguised as well-wishes.

Tony basked in it, tossing charm like confetti. “Oh, that? Yes, the merger’s going beautifully. Married life is just another strategic partnership, isn’t it?”

You, meanwhile, perfected the art of smiling with only your eyes, while plotting how to fake a fainting spell without embarrassing your ancestors.

From across the room, you spotted a cluster of familiar faces: Rhodey, already watching you with a knowing look; and then—Steve Rogers. In a suit. Next to Bucky Barnes, who looked like someone had shoved him into a tuxedo and threatened to withhold bourbon if he didn’t behave.

They were talking to Happy, who waved you over like a proud uncle at a talent show.

“Look who’s survived the gauntlet,” Happy said as you reached them. He handed you a flute of something bubbly. “You didn’t trip on the stairs. That’s a win.”

Steve extended his hand. “Congratulations. I hope this wasn’t entirely your idea.”

You laughed despite yourself. “Not even remotely.”

Bucky gave you an appraising look. “You’re the one who called Stark a walking headline during that MIT tech summit, right?”

Tony, who had rejoined you, sipped his drink. “Still the best insult I’ve ever been awarded. It’s framed in the lab.”

Bucky smirked. “You’re welcome.”

Steve elbowed him, but you caught it—the faint grin pulling at his mouth. Something in your chest relaxed, just a little.

.

Eventually, the emcee summoned you to the dance floor for the moment. The first dance as a married couple. The public seal of a very private contract with a kiss you were dreading.

Tony guided you onto the floor, his hand warm against your back. The music swelled, something slow and dramatic.

You swayed together, more poised than close.

“You holding up?” he asked, voice low.

“Faking it like a pro.”

He smiled at that. “You’ll fit in just fine.”

The cameras waited. So did the crowd. You could feel it.

You felt his fingers tighten subtly at your waist. His face leaned in, not too close, not too soft. Just enough to graze his mouth across yours, a whisper of a kiss, chased by the echo of a thousand shutters.

It felt like nothing. And somehow, it was everything.

The applause from the dance barely faded before the clink of a spoon against crystal rang out. All heads turned toward the podium.

Pepper Potts stood there, poised and radiant in ivory. Graceful, powerful.

“I’ve known Tony for almost a decade now,” she began, voice smooth. “I’ve seen him through breakthroughs, meltdowns, questionable hairstyles, and even more questionable relationships.”

Polite laughter rippled through the room.

Pepper’s eyes flicked toward you, sharp, appraising.

“And then—you happened. It’s not often that someone can surprise Tony Stark… let alone survive it.”

More laughter. You smiled, but something in your gut coiled tight.

She turned slightly, her tone lilting. “And if anyone can handle the chaos that comes with being married to a genius-slash-menace, I imagine it’s someone who didn’t flinch during their prenup negotiation.”

That got actual chuckles. Tony lifted his glass in amusement.

You didn’t miss it—how she held back the last sip of her toast. Like she wasn’t quite ready to swallow it all.

“To compromise that feels like control, affection that’s occasionally inconvenient, and a marriage that’s already trending.”

And then, softer, just enough for you and Tony to feel it.

“To Tony. For finally finding someone who challenges him… without trying to fix him.”

That landed. You felt it slide under your skin. The crowd clapped. Tony didn’t smile this time.

And neither did you.

You filed it away. Pepper might’ve given up the title, but she hadn’t vacated the throne.

.

You slipped away later. The room had grown louder, stuffier, all that glitter settling like dust in your lungs. You found the balcony empty and deliciously cold.

The city pulsed beneath you. And for a second, you just… breathed.

“You made it through,” came a voice.

You turned to find Rhodey beside you, nursing a drink and looking smug.

“Barely,” you said.

He handed you a mini dessert. “Sugar helps.”

You took it. Bit in. Let the sugar melt on your tongue and the noise fade behind you.

“It’s going to get weirder before it gets better,” he said gently. “But you’ve got this. Just… don’t let Tony bulldoze over the real you. That’d be a damn waste.”

Your throat tightened a little. You nodded.

Somewhere inside, Tony laughed too loud.

You glanced through the glass doors, catching a flicker of him—shoulders relaxed, head tipped back, a drink in one hand. The woman next to him was statuesque, glossy, and leaning in with the kind of familiarity that made your stomach tighten.

Her hand brushed his arm as she laughed at something—probably not even that funny—and Tony didn’t pull away. He smiled that smile. The one that belonged in headlines and hotel rooms.

You looked away before the moment could gather more weight than it deserved.

This was the arrangement, after all. Separate lives. Public smiles. Private detours.

Still, you tucked the image away like a shard under your ribs—sharp, and certain to sting later.

You braced yourself.

Because if tonight was any indication, this marriage wouldn’t just be difficult.

It would be a masterclass in patience.

[savingcontent]

Teardown gets extraterrestrial with third DLC, "The Greenwash Gambit" on June 24th

Continue reading Teardown gets extraterrestrial with third DLC, “The Greenwash Gambit” on June 24th

[twstedpurple]

Good Pup

✧ Imagine doing your internship at Night Raven College under Divus Crewel. What kind of school life awaits you as a teacher?

Becoming a teacher has been your dream since your middle school days. As part of your certification program, you were required to intern as a student teacher under the guidance of a cooperating teacher. Although you felt nervous, you trusted your school's department to place you in a good school for your internship. However, you never imagined they would assign you to Night Raven College, an arcane academy renowned for producing many great magicians in history.

You had no qualms about teaching at a magic school since you could use magic, though only to an average degree. The real issue was that it is one of the most prestigious academies in all of Twisted Wonderland, putting more pressure on you, and the fact that it was an all-boys school. 

Why would you, a female intern, be sent to a school full of males? You suspected a mix-up in the assignments, but your department reassured you that there were no such mistakes. Despite your confusion, you didn't question more and chose to see the assignment as an honor. After all, not many are given an opportunity like this to visit the revered Night Raven College.

On your arrival at NRC, you were greeted by the Headmage Dire Crowley himself. He seemed like a kind person as he talked to you, making your earlier uneasiness vanish. After a brief orientation, he then proceeded to introduce you to your assigned cooperating teacher.

A strict yet strikingly handsome man. That was your first impression of your mentor, Divus Crewel. Clad in a thick black and white fur coat and a sharp tuxedo,  you would have mistaken him for a model rather than a college professor if not for the headmage’s introduction.

When you first accompanied Crewel to his class, his students were taken aback by your presence, a reaction you had anticipated. During the first week of your internship, you spent your days following and observing Crewel in his classes, assisting in class duties, and preparing materials. Though you did encounter students trying to hit on you or pester you for your Magicam ID, Crewel was often there to intervene, which you were very grateful for. Aside from that, the first few weeks of your internship went smoothly.

In your fifth week, Crewel assigned you to oversee Class 1-A’s potionology class while he attended a faculty meeting. You hesitated at first, unsure if you could manage a class of troublesome students alone without your supervisor’s help. However, you understood this was part of your training. Having worked with Crewel for weeks, you knew he wouldn’t have given you such a task if he didn’t believe in your abilities.

Dressed in your lab uniform, you headed to the school’s laboratory for class, the students greeting you upon your arrival.

“Yo, Teach! Is Professor Crewel not with you?” Ace Trappola, whom you recognized from the class, suddenly raised his hand.

“Professor Crewel is at a faculty meeting, so he asked me to supervise today’s class,” you explained, setting down the materials you brought on the front desk. “We’ll be doing another potion-brewing activity today. Please distribute these worksheets to everyone before we begin.”

Contrary to your earlier concerns, the students were cooperating smoothly without any complaints. You felt relieved, thinking the class would conclude peacefully—until two students began shouting at each other.

“Hey, those are my herbs!”

“No, they’re mine. I saw you use up all of yours earlier, so quit lying.”

“Who’re you callin’ a liar?”

Your eyes widened in shock as one student shoved the other, causing him to stumble backward and hit a nearby cauldron. The cauldron wobbled before crashing to the floor, spilling the potion. The once-boiling pink liquid slowly turned green before exploding.

Panic erupted as students screamed for help, others scrambling to escape the lab, shoving their classmates aside as dark green smoke began to fill the room, escalating the chaos. Your heart pounded in your chest as you tried to calm the boys, but your voice was drowned out by the uproar, the thick smoke obscuring your vision. Though conflicted by the unexpected turmoil, you knew it was your duty as the teacher to manage the situation. Your supervisor had entrusted you with the class, and you couldn’t let him down.

You took a deep breath, raising your wand as you swiftly conjured a gust of wind, parting the thick smoke around you and capturing everyone's attention.

“Everyone, calm down! There’s no need to panic. Quickly, open the windows to let the smoke out,” you instructed, and the students wasted no time following you. "Now, the rest of you, use your magical pens to blow the smoke out the window.”

The students quickly drew their pens, and at your signal, sent blasts of wind toward the windows, blowing the smoke away. With the air cleared, you could finally see the tables and cauldrons laying in disarray around the room. Potions and colored liquids were spilled across the floor, and shards of glass, torn papers,  and potion ingredients were scattered everywhere.

Clapping your hands, you called for the students' attention once more. "Alright, everyone, let’s clean up before the professors see this mess. Quickly now!"

The thought of a furious Crewel finding the laboratory in such a state sent a chill down your spine, and it seemed the students shared the same thoughts as they scurried around to tidy up. Thankfully, the room was restored before any professors arrived. However, news travels fast at Night Raven College. Such an explosion was bound to be noticed by other students nearby. 

Soon enough, word of the incident reached the faculty, and you found yourself face to face with a frowning Divus Crewel in his workshop a few hours later. Standing with your hands behind your back, you nervously fiddled with your fingers as he sat in front of you, gazing down at the teacup in his hand, legs crossed in silent contemplation.

“Miss Y/N."

His voice cut through the air, making your heart skip a beat. "I heard there was an explosion during Class A’s potionology lesson this morning. As the person I left in charge, could you care to explain to me what happened?"

You then began explaining the events that took place in the laboratory while Crewel listened in silence, occasionally sipping his tea.

"I had a feeling something might go wrong." He sighed, setting his cup down with a soft clink. “Seems like my naughty pups couldn't resist causing trouble again while their owner was away.”

You hung your head in shame. “It’s my fault, Professor Crewel. If I had stopped their fighting sooner, things wouldn't have escalated. I apologize for not managing the class better.”

Crewel’s sharp gray eyes met yours as he rose from his seat. "Though I'm disappointed to hear of this incident while I was away,  I didn’t summon you here to reprimand you or place blame.”

He then took a step forward as he added, “While you couldn't prevent the explosion, you did manage to keep the students from causing further chaos, ensured no one was hurt, and directed the students calmly on how to respond in such a situation.”

For the first time, you saw a faint smile curl on his lips as he raised his hand, gently placing it on your head. 

"It was a rough start, but you did well in looking after the young ones. Good girl.”

You froze, feeling the heat rushing to your cheeks with the unexpected praise as you stammered, "T-Thank you… sir.”

You always knew Crewel was handsome, even with his usual stern demeanor. But seeing him smile sincerely, even just for a fleeting moment, stirred a strange, fluttering sensation in your stomach.

"Taking you on as my assistant at the headmage’s behest wasn’t such a bad idea after all," he said, withdrawing his hand. "But I expect no mistakes next time. Do you understand?”

“Yes, of course.”

"Very good,” He uttered before returning to his seat. “And as for tomorrow's schedule, I will be conducting a joint class with the freshmen and sophomores. Please prepare all the necessary lab equipment and ingredients for creating a hair color-changing potion.”

“Yes, sir. I will prepare it all for tomorrow. Please excuse me then.” You nodded before leaving his workshop. A few meters from his workshop, you stopped, reaching up to touch the spot on your head where he had patted you. A sheepish grin spread across your face as you giddily made your way back to the laboratory.

[leebrontide]

I ever tell you all about my role model?

So when I was a teen we had these two black labs. Good dogs. I miss them.

And I was in highschool when we took them both to the vet for vaccinations or something. And the vet had this small tuxedo cat that lived at the office, just hanging around in the waiting area.

And both my dogs see this cat and all the fur on their backs puffs up and they start growling and showing their teeth and closing in on this little cat as my mom and I try to drag them back, panicking that our pets are gonna try to murder the vet's pet.

And the cat barely pauses their grooming to look at them calmly and bap both of them on the nose in quick succession. No claws out. Not even a swipe. Distinctly a bop or maybe even a bap. Then they went back to grooming themself.

The dogs stopped growling. They look at each other, and then at us. I have never seen a more confused dog in my life.

They quietly went back and sat down where we'd been sitting, and didn't so much as look at that cat ever again.

And like...these are 80lb dogs.

And I decided I wanted to be like that cat. Not violent, but utterly poised in the face of danger. This cat refused to acknowledge that the dogs were bigger or any particular danger. And the dogs were so baffled by this that they assumed they were not any particular danger to the cat. And so, they weren't.

And when I've told this story online, there's usually some women who get really mad at me. They say I'm endangering women, or I'm victim blaming.

I don't know what to say. I'm 40 years old and 5ft 4. I have been in multiple jobs that frequently involved standing firm in the face of large angry men with histories of assault being very very mad at me while I am isolated from backup. And only one has ever dared to take a swing at me and he was so drunk I didn't even need to lean back he missed so badly.

Is it a perfect protection from danger? No, that's dumb. Nothing is. It would be nice if there was something we could do to always stay safe but even fairy tales know better than that.

And it sure as hell seems to protect me better than trying to placate, or than panicking, or escalating or isolating.

And multiple men over a foot bigger than me have voiced that there is something innately scary and intimidating about me. Actually especially taller men seem intimidated by me. I think because I refuse to have any emotional response to their size, and it stands out as weird to them, subconsciously (many of them are perfectly lovely people who I'm not trying to intimidate at all, but who are naturally used to the way most people react to them.)

It doesn't mean I'm never scared. But being rooted in the image of that cat has really has got me through a lot of situations.

It also has for sure made some bosses hate me, when they want groveling and I don't, but I'm doing just fine anyways.

[bullet-prooflove]

The Photographer: Max Bankman x Tristan Silva x Reader (Doctor Odyssey)

Tagging: @kmc1989

Max doesn’t plan to get entangled with The Odyssey’s photographer, he doesn’t plan to get entangled in Tristan either, it’s just something that happens over the duration of his tenure as the ship’s doctor.

It’s a slow, natural progression, one that he never saw coming when he first had his picture taken on gangplank of the ship. That was the first time he’d noticed you, standing there in the sun wearing a navy blue playsuit as you welcomed the guests aboard with a warm smile and that Nixon camera in your hand.

It had been your smile that had captivated him because whilst everyone else’s seems a little forced, too pristine, too perfect, yours is just right. He can tell it’s genuine from the way it almost meets your eyes. He thinks that might have been the moment he fell a little bit in love with you, he just hadn’t realised it at the time. He hadn’t realised a lot of things during that first cruise, like the fact he was competing with Tristan because he actually had feelings for Tristan.

“She looks beautiful, our girl, doesn’t she?” Tristian murmurs as he steps up alongside Max on the balcony that overlooks the ballroom.

“She does.” Max responds, the edges of his mouth tipping up into a smile as he reaches out to fix his partner’s bowtie.

While events like this offer a little off time for the two of them, it’s prime working time for you as you wind your way through the tables with a sense of grace the two men find breathtaking.

You’re wearing the burgundy chiffon jumpsuit tonight, one with the flowers on that Tristan bought for you for your birthday. The fabrics flows with your movements, giving you an ethereal air as you interact with the guests, taking image after image. It’s going to be a long night for you, after the event you’ll spend hours in the ship’s photo lab editing the pictures before you arrange them into individual client files.

Most people buy a bulk package when they take a cruise, ensuring pictures are taken at most of the events including the port locations. It’s your job to make sure the requirements are met, that each person leaves the cruise ship with lasting memories they can show off to their friends and family. That means they won’t get to see you until 5am when you finally make it to bed and by that time they’ll be getting up because their work day starts promptly at 6am.

The three of you had managed to snatch a couple of minutes together before the event. Tristan had helped you dress, delicately guiding the zipper of the jumpsuit up along the curve of your lower back as Max had watched from his chair with a glass of scotch in his hand.

“Perfect my love.” He had whispered against your skin and Max couldn’t help but smile because seeing the two of you together, it does something to a man. It had taken every ounce of self-control not to demand that Tristan undress you again, so they could take you back to bed.

“You’re going to be late.” He had whispered instead, raising to his feet, his lips brushing over yours and Tristan had sighed, burying his face into the curve of your throat as he held you close because like Max, he wasn’t quite ready to let you go just yet.

“Has she said anything to you?” Tristan asks Max as his thumb ghosts over the younger man’s jaw line and the doctor shakes his head sadly.

The three of you are in a state of flux at the current moment. Your contract is coming to an end in a few weeks’ time and you haven’t made the decision to renew it. Working as a photographer on a cruise ship was only ever meant to be a temporary thing for you, a way to build your portfolio quickly after a late life career change. The problem is you fell in love with not one but two men, and the both of them fell in love with you too.

“We promised not to pressure her.” Max reminds Tristan, his hands sliding underneath Tristian’s tuxedo jacket. His fingers catching the belt loops of his trousers drawing the younger man closer into his proximity. His hands come to rest on Max’s shoulders as he looks into his eyes and Max sees that need for reassurance, for comfort. He feels it too deep down in the very depths of his soul  because he doesn’t know what happens to the two of them if you leave, if it’ll drive Tristan away because he can’t take another broken heart, he doesn’t think either of them can.

“I don’t want her to leave.” Tristan says quietly and Max’s forehead comes to rest on his as he whispers.

“I don’t either.”

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[sitp-recs]

Can you recommend fics where harry thinks draco is up to something? thank you so much! I love this blog.

Sure thing, anon! A classic Drarry trope👌🏼I hope you enjoy these:

push and pull you down by @bonesliketambourines (E, 5k)

Harry's resigned himself to petty, inconsequential cases and no real connection to his job at the Auror department—after all, what else would he be doing with his time? He's not happy, not really, but that hardly matters. A chance encounter with a mostly-naked Draco Malfoy exposes him to an entirely different world, one much more colourful than the lonely one he currently occupies—but at what cost?

The Usual by @aibidil (T, 9k)

Harry finally tries the new magical coffee shop on Diagon Alley. A story in which Draco is Up To Something™ and Harry is going to get to the bottom of it, and to the bottom of that sixteen ounce to-go cup.

Operation Dragon's Shenanigans by @nv-md (E, 14k)

Harry's in love with Draco, but it's complicated. Even more complicated than 'I'm in love with my ex-archnemesis and I get dizzy every time I see him smile'. No matter that Harry's an Auror, and always loved a good mystery, he's still having trouble figuring Draco out. And he's the only one who can see that Draco isn't a regular human.

Sleight of Hand by @the-starryknight (E, 15k)

It’s another one of those horrid Ministry affairs, and the only interesting thing is twinkling from Draco Malfoy’s finger. Can you really blame Harry for being fascinated by the gorgeous emerald ring and those long, elegant hands, especially when he’s certain Malfoy is up to something?

Espresso Patronum by @tasteofshapes (T, 15k)

When Draco reappears five years after the war and opens a wildly popular coffee shop, Harry’s pretty sure that Draco’s Up to Something. He just has to prove it.

The Regret Machine by @cavendishbutterfly (E, 15k)

Malfoy’s coming in to do fancy Legilimency work on Hermione’s mind healing machine. Harry’s his test subject—and he’s pretty sure Malfoy is still Up To Something.

Infuse With Affection, Enchant With Love by @bafflinghaze (T, 16k)

It starts with Draco making protective pendants for himself, his parents, and his friends, after the war. Something that would watch their backs—and their fronts—as people spat on them in the streets and hexed them in the alleyways. Draco gets better at it, does a course on it, and takes enough commissions for charmed jewellery that he eventually opens his own shop.

Rich Friend by @sorrybutblog (E, 18k)

As far as Harry can tell, Draco Malfoy is still rich as hell. He’s just not a wizard anymore. Featuring: Draco Malfoy trying to make it as a Muggle pop star, Harry Potter as our confused and horny hero, bad driving, good music, and the mysterious magic of falling for someone.

Here Be Dragons by birdsofshore (E, 21k)

Harry doesn’t want to waste his time investigating illegal dragonhide trading, whether it involves a fetish club in Knockturn Alley or visiting a remote island in Wales. Why the bloody hell does Malfoy always have to be up to something?

Trouble, My Old Friend by Tepre (E, 21k)

Harry goes rogue investigating an illegal potion and ends up at Draco Malfoy's dodgy lab.

Tuxedo Angel by tryslora (E, 25k)

Harry and Neville are looking for the infamous Dragon Lily, a Dark witch active throughout Europe and Asia. Instead, they find the Tuxedo Angel, a beautiful witch performing in Rome. Harry quickly discovers that the Angel is not what she seems, and fights his attraction to her, while both he and the Angel are drawn into a web created by ancient magic that pulls them together, whether they are ready for it or not.

À Bon Chat by @oknowkiss (E, 35k)

Draco Malfoy didn’t intend to lead a life of crime after the war. It’s just that being good had turned out so incomprehensibly boring. Now he's thirty-five, a fully redeemed member of society, the darling of the wizarding social pages, and a newly minted consultant for Gawain Robards' Investigative Research division. In his spare time, he enjoys good whisky, casual sex, and moonlighting as an art thief.

measures of our days and nights by flimsy (E, 40k)

Draco returns to London to help the Ministry decipher a spell, but things aren’t quite as simple as they seem.

The Last Day We Ever Close Our Eyes by @firethesound (E, 43k)

When Draco Malfoy returns to the public eye by purchasing a run-down little antiques shop on Knockturn, Harry is convinced that he is up to something. It turns out that Harry is both very right and very wrong about that.

Soup-pocalypse and The Great Curry Cataclysm by SquadOfCats (E, 104k)

Eleven years after the war, Draco Malfoy leads a quiet, boring, and perfectly respectable life, thanks very much. Or, at least he does, until a sudden and very unexpected veela awakening causes him to throw soup all over Harry Potter in the middle of the Ministry cafeteria.

The Star Splitter by @oflights (E, 219k)

On a routine time travel assignment to the past, Draco stumbles upon 7-year-old Harry Potter and witnesses his neglect and mistreatment by the Dursleys. In the moment, there is only one solution, even if it goes against all his training as a Time Agent: he has to bring Harry back to the future with him.