#St. Guess

[artdecosupernova-writing]

Excerpt St. Guess

↳ Joey peered hard through the doors, cupping his hands around his eyes to get a better look inside. "Huh," he muttered, his breath fogging the glass in front of his face. "Well, it ain't a whiz-bang in there. Guess it's not open after all. Let's come back tomorrow."

Mickey looked in over Joey's shoulder and his expression settled on a concentrated frown. Farther inside the museum, in front of what Mickey could vaguely make out to be the security office, a man in a tan single-breasted suit without a hat spoke to a much more refined, older gentleman. The younger man took a catalog envelope from the older man and smiled personably, patting him on the shoulder and engaging with him directly, holding grateful eye contact. The older man smiled as well, shaking his hand as his brows pitched in apology.

"Are there people inside?" Joey asked.

Mickey watched the younger man laugh at something and turn toward the front of the museum. "Security guard talking to the director. Likely picking up a series of misplaced paychecks."

Joey stepped away from the door and urged Mickey to do the same. "What?"

"During the renovations, the staff paychecks were either misplaced, improperly handled, or halted," Mickey explained as he moved to stand closer to Joey. "One of the security guards has just received his back pay."

"How do you do that?" Joey shrugged, mystified. "One of these days, you gotta tell me how you do that."

"And give away my secrets? Joey." Mickey tutted with a grin. "It's fairly obvious."

"If it was obvious, d'you think I'd be standin' here makin' myself look stupid?"

"Hmm," Mickey intoned, choosing at the benefit of everyone not to respond to that otherwise.

The security guard opened the door, brushing past the pair as he exited. "'Scuse me, fellas," he said, gracing them both with the same warm smile Mickey had seen inside the museum.

Mickey locked eyes with him for one moment that dragged on like several. Neatly combed, blue-black hair—dyed. Shiny. Slicked down with pomade. His eyes were green, full of life, youthful in contradiction to the shallow crow's feet at the outer corners. His smile could have illuminated an entire room.

He shifted the envelope to his other hand and bounded down the steps.

Mickey watched him, his gaze tight. Willing the man to glance back at him.

Some physical distance grew between them before he did just that. He threw one last look behind him, halfway across the street, and the friendly smile developed into one of deep understanding…an acknowledgement of words unspoken, or perhaps a pass of pleased appraisal.

Joey's stare bounced from the man to Mickey. "You know him?"

"No," Mickey said.

But he was sure he would.

[knezidon]

Rewatching star trek tos, I love it when they have this energy

[theloveinc]

mating press is so objectively ugly ... embarrassing

[rocketkit]

third scene from a nonexistent fic

[hahahalfwit]

im studying them like little bugs

[emblazons]

STRANGER THINGS x PRIDE MONTH

@stcreators event 09: pride queer(-ish) characters + pride flags (ins/sp.) lesbian / bisexual / gay / questioning + bonus

[strangerwheelerthings]

The funniest aspect of Nancy's personality is that she has absolutely no idea how terrible she is at lying.

"Ok, could you just let me do the talking." Like, girl you've only made it this far on pure luck. You're good at prep work, but horrible at improvisation.

[freckledjoes]

"Eddie. Eddie. Hey man. Uh... Listen, I just, uh... I just want to say thanks. For saving my ass back there." "Shit. You saved your own ass, man. I mean, that was a real Ozzy move you pulled back there." "Ozzy?" "When you took a bite out of that bat. Ozzy Osbourne? Black Sabbath? He bit a bat's head off onstage." "I don't—" - "You know?" - "No." "Doesn't matter. It's very metal, what you did. That's all I'm saying." "Thanks..."

[kaffkanya]

local starfleet officer wont stop serving cunt during misssions!

[hothammies]

concept designs for the zombie apocalypse au i'm working on - pt. 2 (small au details under the cut regarding their wardrobe)

---

max's design

takes off her jean jacket during supply runs / fights - used to be billy's jacket

signature weapon is a sawblade baseball bat - was taught how to swing from billy but the bat was modified by dustin

lucas' design

has started wearing jackets less and switched to dress shirts - the jackets were getting in the way of his new shoulder holster

signature weapon is a crossbow / revolver - the best marksman of the group and most knowledgeable with guns (his dad taught him everything as a war veteran) can really use anything!

dustin's design

found his vest off of some dead biker guy, thought it looked sick, and hasn't taken it off since - he puts pins on it to personalize it

no real signature weapon because he tends to stick away from fighting, more support - he knows basic fighting skills but is a beast with his crafted weapons (e.g. bomb traps, molotovs, etc)

is the pack mule when it comes to supply runs - he stays with mike and will to scout but brings a heavy backpack with possible backup supplies / weapons if need be

---

other notes: wanted to share that the apocalypse starts in 2019 while the kids were born in 2015. the first arc of the story takes place in apocalyptic 2028 and so on (their current designs are for arc 3). reason? i wanted them to experience some of the music and technology up to the 21st century :] i'll make a more official story thing later! maybe i'll write something for this au or draw a comic? idk my creative writing skills are pretty weak but we'll never know until we try LMAO

[artdecosupernova-writing]

OC Kiss Week Day 6: Dangerous

WIP: St. Guess Pairing: Mickey x Tod Timeline: Part of a significantly altered scene from the original iteration of St. Guess. Set in 1938. CW: Oh uh well for context Tod’s just gotten finished brutally beating a potential burglar to death with a [pipe? haven’t decided yet] and burying their body in the woods behind the museum where he works so. Um. Death. Violence (though the deed’s already done here)? Also, blood. Rating: M to be safe Words: 814 

***

Mickey halted.

He'd assumed he imagined the dark streak on the white stone, the advantage being he'd only seen it within his periphery. Now, at the top of the steps, he had a perfect view of a stark smear of blood, obsidian in the shadow, trailing from the other set of doors into the bushes planted under the windows. It glittered at him, assisted by the streetlamps to make it as wicked as possible. He could smell it, too, upon further inspection; a sharp copper scent that faded with the light breeze.

Glancing down revealed that one of the buttons of his jacket cuff had come undone. He carefully popped it back into place, smoothing a crease in the muted plum fabric of his sleeve. With a meditative breath, he followed the trail down to the ground.

A bystander wouldn't have been able to tell that the blood continued around the perimeter of the building just by looking at the bushes. All Mickey could discern, on the other hand, were disheveled twigs and branches, the shoe prints depressed into the soil, tiny leaves littering the ground, and the unmistakable echoing sound of a shovel puncturing the ground the closer to the other side of the museum he traversed.

He entered the cluster of trees creating a gorgeous and chilling cloak of obscurity behind the museum, fully anticipating the low light originating from the grass to cast a warm glow on Tod's body as it accumulated more and more dirt over him. Relief flooded his lungs when he could finally see that Tod was doing the burying.

Mickey watched him dump a shovelful of dirt onto the makeshift grave. Sleeves rolled up to the elbow, hair he'd spent time pomading that morning now a picture of ruin, tie missing, a shock of blood spray on his shirt and undershirt, and a noticeable bend in his stance. Favoring the right side of his body. Wincing with every movement.

"Got a little carried away, did we?"

Tod startled, dropping the shovel and kicking away the flashlight so it illuminated the stretching trunk of a tree instead of the obvious mound in the ground. "What're you doing here, Mickey…?"

"I'd hate for you to forget to erase the most damning evidence of…whatever this is." Mickey gestured to the museum. "A heroic end to a villainous thief's career?"

"Fuck. Don't glorify this." Tod grunted as he stooped to pick up the shovel again. "I had to do what I had to do. I'm not proud of it."

"You had to kill them?"

Tod stuck the shovel into the grass and leaned on it for support. Sweat could be seen coating his forehead even in the lack of light. "I shot him in the leg and I couldn't risk being found out. My plan, my—I'm this close to shutting down the guys in New York. I'm so close, Baby."

Mickey meandered over to the flashlight and plucked it up, sticking it in a hole in the trunk so it created a spotlight on Tod. "You've yet to explain the plan, however."

"Let it fall into place," Tod hissed, clutching his side. "Not like you won't figure it out, anyway. Shit..."

Mickey stepped up to him. "He fought back."

"Yeah. Kicked real hard with his boot." Tod peered down at Mickey as he assessed the bruise over his security uniform. "I didn't want you to know about this."

Smiling warmly, Mickey snaked an arm around his waist. "Joey was right; you sure did have something pent-up within you, didn't you? There is…something to that, I think."

Tod made to protest but Mickey silenced him by curling a hand around the back of his neck and pressing a too-soft kiss into him. Mickey parted his lips and accepted Tod's probing tongue graciously, knowing he had successfully distracted Tod when his thick fingers found his hip and tugged him closer.

He allowed Tod to gather him into his arms and nip at his throat as he cast his eyes down to the grave behind them.

How cold it must have been in there. How dangerous his involvement had just become. And how unbelievably powerful he felt right now. A surprising reaction to a crime he wasn't sure he could picture any one of the boys committing. Though now that Mickey had seen it firsthand, and from Tod out of all of them…it opened up an entirely new level of respect to be demanded of the man who had Tod wrapped in a tight coil around his finger.

It would've been too much to handle had it not been the role he was born to play.

"Clean up the blood," Mickey breathed, pushing some space between them. "I'll make sure this grave is inconspicuous. Then we go home."

Tod's eyes passed over his face. The uncertainty remained, but the willpower did not. He nodded.

[melonalemonade]

good night

[ourobororos]

random ds9 dump... 2!

[vvrses]

hello to the 2 one wheat mark fans :)

[trashyvolty]

Heart stolen !

Sketched this as a thank you for the overwhelming support i got on this illustration on twitter and here as well 🫶 i'm so glad a lot of people vibed with it ! + it was an excuse to draw my bestie Trina being silly goofy for once

Text version :

[snowangeldotmp3]

a study in season 2 nancy wheeler, featuring WILDFLOWER by billie eilish

guilt || grief || ghosts // ribs