#foleys bar

[tiya-minuscule]

Chapter 5 : Meeting some familiar and new faces ...

Chapter 4

Chapter 6

(Sorry for all my LayClaire shippers... It will be a SLOW burn)

I hope you still enjoy this comics, don't hesitate to share it and tell me what you think of it ;)

Thanks again @lutiaslayton for helping me with the thanslation !!

[girl-drink-drunk]

the best part of the simon and hecubus bits is that hecubus seems to actually be a demon of some kind, with actual powers, and he chooses to be the manservant of a two-bit hypnotist who's not even good at his job and gets genuine glee out of doing the shows

[thuggaloshow]

THUGGALOS PULL UP AT THE JUGGALO VALENTINE’s SPECTACULAR SHOW with HEXXX + S.O.N + Mo FOLEY & AARON ROMERO

@ FOLEY’s BAR in LAKE GENEVA, WI

SATURDAY! FEBRUARY 11th, 2023!!

#ThuggaloShow #WestCoastWickedShit #Hexxx

[jtem]

J.J. Foley's

[jinjeriffic]

DCxDP Prophecy Universe Part 8

Part 7

Damian was torn between investigating the disturbance and continuing his surveillance of Daniel and his companions. On the one hand, civilians might be in danger. On the other hand, he was here on a mission. The decision was made for him when Foley and Manson came running out of Pineapple Republic and headed towards the sounds of commotion. No sign of Daniel though.

A musical chime sounded as the mall’s PA system turned on.

“Attention customers!” came a cheerful female voice, “We regret to inform you that a ghost attack is currently in progress! Please head to the nearest emergency exit. Thank you for shopping at Amity Park Mall! Please come again!”

Another musical chime marked the end of the announcement and an alarm started wailing.

And everyone thinks Gotham is bad. Amity Parkers are demented.

Damian dropped what he was holding and ducked out of the store into the crowd of people hurrying towards the exits. A few people gave him odd looks as he headed in the opposite direction of the evacuation but nobody tried to stop him. They probably wanted to be as far away from the carnage as possible. At least they were somewhat sensible in that regard.

The crowd around him thinned out fast and it didn’t take him long to spot Foley and Manson crouched behind the counter of a now abandoned juice bar. Foley was fiddling with something in his backpack while Manson was keeping lookout. Luckily their attention was focused in the other direction so Damian snuck as close as he dared and ducked behind some decorative plants to avoid being seen. He surreptitiously pulled out his phone to record whatever was going to happen.

The screaming had stopped but the repeated sound of glass shattering came from inside what appeared to be a high-end jewelry store. He could see movement behind the cracked safety glass and heard muffled voices though he couldn’t discern the words. Suddenly, the glass pane buckled outwards before being torn from its moorings entirely, crashing to the ground. What appeared to be a large reinforced safe skidded along the tile floor, leaving cracks in its wake before coming to a stop. A red energy blast came roaring out the now empty window frame, burning a melted hole in the glass of a store on the opposite side.

“The hard way it is then!” shouted a voice Damian recognized.

Green flashes lit up the inside of the jewelry store and moments later a black and white form came hurtling out.

Phantom.

He wasn’t wearing a cloak or messenger bag this time and the strange staff he had used to open the portal was also missing. His body was haloed by a faint glow, giving him an ethereal appearance. The black parts of his armored jumpsuit seemed to suck in the light to an unnatural degree, while the white accents as well as his hair seemed to shine like moonlight. He came to a halt in midair, and his outstretched hands glowed green as a barrier appeared in front of him, just in time to block another red blast.

“Look, if I wanted a tan I’d go to the spa!”

A second figure came flying out of the store at high speed, aiming straight for Phantom. He dodged and weaved as his opponent struck at him with… a battleaxe?

“And I don’t need a haircut either, geez!”

Phantom retaliated with a glowing fist to the face of his opponent, who crashed to the ground leaving a small crater in the floor. With the creature momentarily disoriented, Damian could finally get a good look at it. It had the same glowing aura as Phantom, but its skin was dark green. It was smaller than the average human but much bulkier. If Damian had to guess he’d estimate its height to be about four feet. It had large pointed ears, beady red eyes and a long, pencil-like nose. Its hands and feet were bare, but tipped with vicious looking claws. It was wearing a mish mash of leather and metal armor pieces and what appeared to be several pounds of stolen jewelry.

Two more creatures of similar appearance emerged from the wreckage of the store, one carrying a wooden staff with a large red jewel set in the top, and the other a crossbow and a large sack. The red jewel glowed ominously and fired another blast towards Phantom, who stretched and twisted his body in an unnatural way to avoid it.

“Are those goblins? Seriously?!”

“Curse you universe!”

Foley and Manson’s outburst drew the attention of the third creature and they had to duck down as a crossbow bolt embedded itself in the juice bar inches from them.

“Man, we’ll never hear the end of this!”

“Just shut up and get the thermos ready. I’ll cover you,” Manson snapped as she attached something metal to her wrist.

Meanwhile, Phantom had launched himself at the second creature - goblin? - and was trying to wrestle the staff away from it. The creature snarled and Phantom head butted it in the nose, and followed up with a kick to the inside of its knee. The goblin fell back, dazed as Phantom wrenched the staff out of its grasp. He turned sharply, just in time to block the axe blow aimed at his back as the first creature lunged at him. The axe bit deeply into the wood of the staff.

“Have you considered a career in lumberjacking? Then maybe you wouldn’t have to steal your bling!” Phantom taunted as he shoved his opponent back. When he blocked the next blow, the staff broke in two under the force. He cast the now useless pieces aside.

“Maybe you could find a nice lady who appreciates your firewood chopping skills?”

The next swing came horizontally, and Phantom bent backwards to avoid it.

“Or maybe a nice dude, I ain’t judging!”

Just then, Manson popped up from behind cover and used some kind of wrist mounted laser to shoot the axe goblin in the side. The creature howled in pain and dropped its weapon to clutch at the smoldering wound. Seizing the opportunity Phantom dashed forward and delivered a devastating uppercut. He grabbed his enemy as it began to slump, and hurled it through the air towards the juice bar.

“Heads up, Tuck!”

Foley popped up and aimed a strange cylinder towards the fight. A bright light erupted from the device as the creature was sucked inside. One down two to go.

The crossbow wielder took advantage of now having a clear shot at Phantom, and the teen just barely managed to duck as a bolt whizzed past his ear and embedded itself in the wall.

“I’ll pass on the acupuncture, thanks!”

Not giving his foe time to reload, Phantom blasted it with a green energy bolt as he flew towards it. With seemingly no better options, the goblin grunted as it swung the heavy sack as an improvised weapon. The blow connected, sending Phantom tumbling back with a cry. At the same time the sack split open, spilling a cascade of rings, necklaces and other precious items across the floor. Phantom hit the ground on his back, but rolled to his feet quickly, picking up the discarded battleaxe as he went.

“I have an axe to grind with you!” he cried with a feral grin, as he hurled the weapon at his opponent with all his might. The goblin squawked and dodged, still fumbling to reload. Phantom was faster though and slammed into it with glowing fists, sending the creature tumbling through the air. In another flash of bright light, Foley sucked up the second goblin too.

Unfortunately, the third creature had not been idle. While everyone was distracted, it had picked up the discarded head of the broken staff and had started an ominous chant in a strange language. Apparently breaking the shaft hadn’t rendered it useless after all and the gemstone was pulsing with an angry red light.

“Oh no, you don’t!” Phantom snarled and sent out a wave of ice spears in front of himself as he flew at the goblin. One of the icicles hit the gem and it felt as if time slowed for a moment as the latter splintered with an audible crack. Suddenly, an explosion of red energy erupted from the gem, sending both combatants hurtling in opposite directions. The goblin hit the wall with a thud, and the unconscious creature was quickly sucked into Foley’s device.

Phantom landed on the thoroughly ruined floor, sprawled amid the various trinkets the ghostly thieves had pilfered.

“I hate it when they insist on going out with a bang,” he groaned, clutching at his head and sitting up.

“Police, freeze!”

“It’s Phantom, get him!”

Oh joy, law enforcement has arrived. Too late, as usual.

“Aw come on, really?!” Phantom yelped, then scrambled away as the newly arrived policemen started shooting at him with some kind of laser blaster, the bolts of light reminiscent of what Manson had dished out earlier.

“Screw you guys, I’m going home!” Phantom shouted as he turned see-through and dove through the floor.

“Suspect is headed for the basement, we’re in pursuit!” one of the officers yelled into his walkie-talkie as they all ran off, presumably in the direction of the nearest staircase. Why they thought chasing someone who could apparently density shift was going to accomplish anything was beyond Damian. It looked like small town America didn’t recruit the best and brightest as law enforcement officers either.

Damian pocketed his phone and hurried away from the scene of the crime. The last thing he wanted was to be interrogated about what he had seen. Besides, he was eager to see where his wayward brother would resurface.

[madphantom]

One day I'll probably be jealous of my energy level these days but for now I spent the entire Sunday at foley recording sessions, went to bed at 2AM, got up at 6, shoveled snow off the sidewalk for two hours, and now, after a breakfast of one pudding and a Red Bull (HEALTHIEST IT'S BEEN IN A WHILE), I will put on a skimpy outfit, go to university all day and then stay out at the bar until 2AM, and tomorrow I'll do the same and I am miraculously, not exhausted at all

[rhysdarbinizedarby]

‘Night Court’ First Look: See Rhys Darby as Gurgs’ Royal Beau With Dave Foley

Donna Gurgs is being (night) courted!

Lacretta‘s beloved bailiff has been talking about her royal boyfriend all season long, and fans will finally meet the Duke in Night Court Season 2 Episode 12 when he comes to visit his paramour. Who’s playing this noble beau? TV Insider can confirm that it’s none other than Our Flag Means Death leading man Rhys Darby, who guest stars alongside The Kids in the Hall‘s Dave Foley. TV Insider also has the exclusive first look at Darby as Alistair and Foley as Duncan (below).

Night Court marks Darby’s first TV appearance since Our Flag Means Death ended in October 2023 and was criminally canceled in January. While we’re still grieving that loss, it’s great to see Darby in another romantic and comedic role so soon.

Here’s the official episode description for “The Duke’s a Hazard”: “When Gurgs’ royal boyfriend pays a surprise visit, she questions their compatibility. Dan defends his family’s honor after he discovers a feud that dates back centuries.”

Darby plays Alistair Tully, the charming long-distance boyfriend of Gurgs, who finds himself out of his element, being so accustomed to his royal lifestyle that mundane tasks like paying for coffee at the coffee bar elude him. Dave plays Alistair’s royal valet, who harbors a long-standing family feud with Dan (John Laroquette).

In the first-look photo below, Alistair and Gurgs are on a date in Judge Abby Stone’s (Melissa Rauch) office:

Has distance made the heart grow fonder for these two lovebirds? Or will Gurgs’ fears about their compatibility end their long-distance love affair?

Whatever happens, we can’t wait to see these comedy legends appear in the sitcom when the episode airs on Tuesday, March 19 at 8/7c on NBC.

Night Court has just two episodes left in Season 2. “The Duke’s a Hazard” is the penultimate episode of the season, so expect to see some loose ends begin to tie up as the series prepares for its season finale. The Night Court Season 2 finale airs Tuesday, March 26 on NBC.

Night Court, Tuesdays, 8/7c, NBC

Source: TV Insider

[striderl]

Would Foley appreciate being gifted some skibidi eyeballs to add to his collection, or does he want only eyes from skibidis he's personally killed?

If he does accept donated eyeballs, would he prefer them to be already removed, or would he prefer to be gifted the whole skibidi head so he can scoop out its eyes himself? (It's his enrichment, hee hee)

Foley has an indifferent attitude toward what method he obtains the eyes, whether it’s gouging the eyes out or someone sending a gift to him, he simply collects them out of appreciation and habits. They usually look for specimens that have vibrant irises or unique shapes.

But if you are talking about what kind of gift he prefers, it’s live subjects. He relished the suffering of the beings that caused him to suffer, humans, Skibidis, or even alliance members if they crossed a line (we won’t get into the details of torturing, Foley is rather creative with it, you get the point). On the other hand, if you get your hands on a special type of eyeballs, like heterochromatic eyes, or having rare colors like red or purple irises, Foley would love them either way.

Foley had started collecting eyes long before the war, during the period serving as a bartender. Due to his confinement in the bar and his owner threatening to detonate him if he ever tried to escape, he was isolated and lacked proper social interaction. He began to crave attention other than patrons’ hostile stares or his owner’s perverted gaze. 

In one particular incident, he smashed an assailant’s head with a wooden tool incessantly until that creep’s face was no longer recognizable. As he cleaned up the mess after the confrontation, he found the eyes detached from that guy’s face. Picking them up, he noticed the emotionless eyes looking back at him. It was oddly comforting for Foley as he received some form of attention other than hostility despite it being from two bloody eyeballs.

As time elapsed, it became a routine for them to collect eyes from their victims, it helped him feel a bit more stable when there wasn’t anyone there for him or to understand him. Even after the war started and he joined the Film Industry, he would still seek comfort from his eyeball jars, since literally every speakerman, large or regular, would choose to keep a distance from him within a 10-meter radius. It simply fueled them to expand his collection.

[lemmaliya]

The ‘Good Ol’ Days’

John Price x f!Reader (callsign: saint)

Warnings: Mention of violence, Swearing, Scars poorly edited :)))

Summary: a lovely night with John Price, recounting the “good ol’ days”

text in italics, will be represented as a flashback

Any feedback is welcome ;)

———

“When did you know you liked me?”

The question caught John off guard, you two had been sitting in silence on the porch enjoying each others company, still in your gear having just gotten back from a mission.

John looked back over at you, your smile and natural features glowing in the moonlight, face still covered in a bit of dirt and dried blood. As crazy as it sounded? He thought you looked beautiful like that. The sound of your voice had snapped John back to reality.

“John?”

“Hm?” He hummed, his expression a bit dumbfounded. You chuckled at that. “You zoned out on me there. Answer the question, when did you know you liked me?” You giggled, restating your question. “Oh.. well, that’s an easy answer” he said pridefully. You raised an eyebrow, urging him to go on.

“It was about 5 or so years ago.. you had been sitting at a table alone at the bar on melrose ave” he smiled at the memory, you had the cutest little pissed off look on your face, obviously sober.

“Wait.. when we first met?! Holy shit! I was still lieutenant under Foley!” You squealed, slightly proud of yourself for remembering such a vivid memory so long ago.

John remembers that day like it was yesterday.

———

“Not enjoying yourself Sargent?” John asks, resting his hand on the back of the free chair across from you. Your eyes snap in his direction. Fast, focused. Definitely sober.

“Hm?” You hum. “Oh! No..” you point to the group of loud drunk soldiers behind you. “Someone has to drive those dumbasses home” you smile politely.

He pulls out the chair across from you and slips into the seat, urging to talk more. You were in your gear, he scans your uniform. Nothing to indicate your position. But you seemed professional, not too tense but not all relaxed either, seeming like you were ready to jump on your feet if anything happened. So definitely not a rookie celebrating her first mission.

“Are they yours?” He asks, hesitant to assume you were a captain, seeing as he had never seen you before. You outstretch your hand onto the table to shake his own, introducing yourself.

“I’m Captain Foley’s lieutenant, call me saint.” You say, a prideful smile on your face. John takes your hand, firm grip. He’ll keep that in mind just in case. He chuckles quietly at your callsign, not in a mocking kind of way, but an interested way. “John Price, I’m under MacMillian. Saint, hey?”

You scratch the back of your head and scrunch your nose “ah.. long story..” you sigh.

He takes this time to take in your features, not many scars paint you face, he notices one in particular, it goes from just the bottom of your chin to your neck, that seems like a hell of a story. He’s lost in thought when you suddenly get up from your seat and slam your hands on the table. A fights started.

“Jesus Christ-“ you mumble under you breath as you rise to your feet.

You features are now stern, hard, professional. You curse louder than John had expected.

“I’m sorry but these fucken’ pricks don’t know how to appreciate anything good!” You spit venom before turning back to John with a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry John, I’d really love to talk more but I have to deal with this..”

———

“Wait hold on.. thats when you knew you liked me?! Jesus- John I was pissed off and had just gotten back from a mission, I did not look pretty..” you breath out, slightly chuckling

John took your hands, making eye contact with you.

“You looked beautiful.”

[nerdraging4point0]

Blood of Eden // Part Four // Noah Sebastian Urban Fantasy AU Fic

Tropes and Tags: MM, MF, MFM, MFM, instalove, too much sex, tattooed men, polyverse, shapeshifters.

CW: 18+ only minors DNI. Urban Fantasy romance, Smut. Angst. Fluff (ish), Story includes D/S themes, mentions of blood and gore, mentions of drug use and distribution, mentions of prostitution, unprotected sex, male receiving oral sex, female receiving oral sex, cuckolding, P/A sex, P/V sex.

This work below is fictionalized ideas and stories involving real people but does not directly reflect their thoughts, feelings, or behaviors. Please keep in mind that this is a work of fiction.

Active taglist: @ladyveronikawrites @tearfallpixie @beaker1636 @circle-with-me @synthetic-wasp-570 @itsjustemily @thesazzb @vinyardmauro @cookiesupplier @concreteemo @dominuslunae @mountains-to-move @sundamariis @caitcoreeeee @crimson-calligraphyx @letmeadoreyoux @starsomens @artificialbreezy @lma1986 @iknownothingpeople @lilrubles @shilohrosechicken @missduffsblog @jessicafg03 @thatchickwiththecamera @mysticdoodlez @chels3a-smile @sinkingteethinwhitenoise @deathblacksmoke @roley-poley-foley @ravieisunhinged @dethronetheveil @to-be-written @somewhere-diamond @somebodyels3 @sacredthefran @th0ughts-pr4yers @skulliecadaver-blog @hayleylatour @littlefoxkota @anameunmusical @talialovesmiw @sacredthefran @jilliemiw86 @darkmxgician

"You've helped enough."

She snapped, getting up from the floor. 

Noah turned the key in the lock, slowly pushing open her apartment door; she walked under his arm like a bridge, not even bothering to look at him. Watching her cradle her wounded limb to her chest as she walked by, he hung his head shamefully.

"Sorry about that." 

He wasn't sure she had heard him as she disappeared into her tiny space to a room down the hall, muttering something to herself the entire way. Noah took notice of the mixed-matched furniture, the dark blue loveseat, the cream couch with burnt orange and dark green pillows, and a glass coffee table sitting in the center of the room on top of a worn argyle green area rug.

Scattered along her walls were pieces of eclectic art, large frames filled with a collage of smiling faces of what he presumed were friends and family; it seemed her life had been busy between trips to the beach, theme parks, nights in the clubs, at the bar, graduations and birthdays. The guilt in his chest made him incapable of looking at the pictures anymore; if she'd died on that roof, he would have been responsible for all those people missing her.

He could hear her cursing under her breath, tape ripping, and then the whimpering. He would have offered more help, but she didn't seem thrilled the first time, so he shut his mouth. Propping himself against the wall next to her kitchen, he had a perfect view down the hall and was in the ideal position to defend her front door. 

She came out of the room in a new set of clothes, struggling to put her arm through the sleeve of her khaki hoodie. 

"Oh," she sounded disappointed. Her face was pale, barely capable of keeping her eyelids open as she shuffled her way down the hall. "You're still here." 

He stood by as she entered her kitchen, searching her counters before opening the fridge. It was practically empty, but she didn't seem bothered. Jolly always kept their fridge stocked with Noah's favorite things; he was always curious when Jolly found the time.

"I need a shot," she mumbled. 

"You shouldn't drink. Your blood tastes terrible." Noah offered.

She paused. The fridge door hung open before closing it, slowly shaking her head. She opened a cabinet above her sink and pulled down a large teal plastic box. Noah stepped closer, watching her pull supplies from the old container: a few gauze pads, a wipe, some type of blue elastic, and a syringe full of a neon purple liquid.  

"What's that?" he asked.

"Something that's going to make you go away." He could hear the tears in her voice. The beast inside him whimpered. She turned around and jumped back, nearly dropping the syringe on the floor. 

"What?" he stepped back, startled by her reaction. She pinched the bridge of her nose.

"It's PTSD. PTSD and hallucinations. It's not real. Go sit down." Noah got the sense she wasn't talking to him. Grabbing the syringe and her supplies, she stepped past, avoiding him, to sit on her couch. Rolling up her sleeve, she expertly secured the elastic around her arm without even opening her eyes. Noah took a seat on the couch next to her, watching as she felt around in the crook of her arm, grabbing the syringe and lining the needle with her pulsing vein. 

"Why do you do this?" he asked.

"To survive." she sighed, letting the needle pierce her skin and drain the fluid in her veins. He felt the urge to put his head in her lap, have her stroke his hair, and find ways to comfort her. 

 Removing the needle and setting it on the table, she teetered a bit before slowly lying on her left side, pulling one of the pillows under her head.

He watched as she fell asleep with little effort, the soft snores evidently meaning she was exhausted. Noah picked up the syringe, unscrewed the needle, and brought the contraption to his nose. 

He recoiled instantly at the smell, a toxic earthy scent; this is what is making her blood taste so bad. What could she possibly need it for? 

Picking himself off the couch, he wasn't sure what to do, his feet drawn to the box still sitting on the kitchen counter; looking into her box, he saw two other syringes with that purple concoction at the bottom. A small stack of bills was folded in half in the side pocket. Was she dealing or just buying?

Turning to the sleeping beauty on the couch, she looked nothing like the photos on her walls. Sure, her hair was longer, but it was dull; she was obviously curvy, maybe voluptuous; now, as she lay on her couch, she looked like a shell of her former self. Looking at her face, he could tell it had been a while since she smiled. Deep grooves under her eyes from lack of sleep and stress make the lids heavy over her brilliant-colored eyes. As the hours passed and he watched her sleep, the drive and urge to be near her faded; he missed Jolly and wanted to go home. 

He dropped her keys on the table, locking her door on his way out. He took a leisurely stroll on his way back home. He wanted to go home, but something was driving him to go back; passing a corner vendor selling tacos, he stopped to pick up a few. Sitting at the makeshift bench, the taco truck had set out, he enjoyed his lunch, taking down the eight tacos without a breath. He was famished between the morning's distractions and a frustrated state of mind; he'd skipped breakfast.

His phone buzzed, and he pulled out the black device; its thin body barely fit in his hand as he slid open the screen to reveal his texts.

Where'd you run off to?

Jolly's text was declamatory. Noah slipped a finger through the ring of his collar. Jolly knew where he was, and he always would. Collars were equipped with the finest tracking system in the city; not even underground trams interfered with their transmission. 

Needed a walk. And food.

West 42nd seems like a long walk for food.

Noah hadn't realized how far her apartment was from home; as he turned around, he discovered he couldn't even see the skyscraper through the surrounding buildings. Shocker. 

Had to clear my head.

Oh, pet. Was I harsh?

Harsh? No, it was well deserved; Noah disobeyed the rules. Seemed fair he would be punished for it. 

No, not at all

Have you been following Rule #3?

Noah could feel the twitch in his pants, the blood rushing between his thighs, reminded of the way he'd been left this morning. Again, Jolly would know if Noah had tried. The collar tracked his vitals, offering a full report to his master every six hours.

Yes, master.

Good boy. Come home. I work late tonight, but I will take care of you.

Noah never got up and tossed away his trash so fast. 

Jolly straightened up in his office chair, resting his elbows on the clutter surrounding his desk. It was late. Noah had left on duty hours ago, and their home was quiet. Noah was constantly pacing the house, blasting his music, and maybe even watching TV in two rooms simultaneously. Jolly would often sleep when he was out on duty, but he'd been hard at work tonight. His vision blurred; when he closed his eyes and rubbed the corners, he could still see the spreadsheets of costs, budget, inventory, and plans for the lab experiments all over his desktop screen. 

He was sick of working the numbers for the fourth time today. Something wasn't adding up; it hadn't been for two months now; it was minuscule at best, a few hundred here, a few hundred there. But without getting to the root of the problem, it continued to grow, and soon, they would be overrun in debt if it didn't get managed. Against his better judgment, he'd used money from his own account to balance out the difference, hoping it wouldn't bite him in the ass later. 

A new window popped up on his screen, a red dot pulsing on a grid he recognized as the city. 

Noah.

He opened the new screen, seeing the subtle alert that Noah had left his post. He'd crossed over to the next block and was still going; Jolly clicked open the tab holding the city's main alerts, observing the bank security; no breach. Jolly clicked into Noah's tracker, reviewing his vitals in real-time. He could see his heart rate increasing and his oxygen steady, with no log of wounds. 

"Where are you going?" he whispered to himself. 

When the red dot stopped at the corner, Jolly pulled up his phone, dialing Jethro's number. Two rings and the security man answered. 

"Get me all the angles for 24th and Woodman." Jolly barked, and a few loud tappings on the other end of the line came through the receiver as Jethro worked his magic. 

"Sharing." 

One large image cut into a grid of four different angles popped up on Jolly's screen. He threw his phone on the desk, lacing his fingers together to rest under his chin as he watched. 

She was climbing into a horticulture shop, disappearing behind their chain link fence. And there was Noah at the corner. Patiently sitting on his haunches, his head tilted as he watched her. Jolly punched in a few codes, just a few things that Jethro had taught him. He wasn't a tech man but a quick learner when he needed something and didn't want to bother anyone. 

The codes rewound the security footage, zooming in on the girl climbing the fence. Long dark red waves tied back into a ponytail, dark jeans, and a hoodie with a backpack hanging off her shoulders. He watched as she winced each time she used her right arm to scale the fence, rubbing her shoulder as she jumped to the ground again. 

"Well, aren't you a pretty one?" Jolly hummed to himself. 

He let the footage play out, maybe twenty-five minutes before she was back, scaling the fence again to leap down onto the sidewalk as before. 

She lost her footing, falling back onto her ass. Off his haunches in an instant, Noah closed the distance between them; she panicked, scotting herself back till she was caged in by the fence she'd just climbed. Jolly watched as Noah approached her, his head hung low, ears up; when she scrambled again, he lowered onto his front paws, bowing in front of her as he scooted closer. 

She remained still, watching Noah with intense eyes. He was close enough that if he lashed out a paw, he'd scratch her face. Instead, he dropped his head into her lap. They stayed still for several minutes, Noah's tail slowly swishing from side to side. Jolly watched as her hand reached up, hesitating over his head. 

"That's it, pretty one. He likes his ears scratched."

She obviously didn't hear him, her hand slowly lowering onto his pet's head anyway, touching Noah's ears, giving them a tentative scratch. Jolly watched Noah's vitals, his heart rate lowering and his breathing steady. His tail wagged as he leaned into her touch. 

Suddenly, Noah was on his feet, turning to look behind him. Another hunter had come around the corner; Jolly's monitors showed Noah's heart rate skyrocket and his adrenaline surge. 

Noah followed his fellow hunter as they scurried back to their posts, turning once to look over his shoulder before darting off. Jolly's eyes remained fixed on the girl still sitting on the ground, zooming in on her face. 

"What a mystery you are, sunshine." 

[thicc-astronaut]

I noticed in the new episode, when Bubble says... something rude... their speech doesn't get censored like the human character's swear words do. It's more like a standard TV censoring bleep instead of a wacky sound effect, and there isn't a censor bar over the mouth.

Maybe the profanity filter doesn't affect the AIs like it does the human players? Maybe whatever Bubble said was more like a slur that whoever wrote the profanity filter didn't think of?

Or maybe the writers just found it was better at displaying a "long expletive" joke, since repeated cartoon foley would seem like a bunch of short swear words (plus they already did the "bunch of short swear words censored by repeated cartoon foley" gag in the first episode)

[ladyveronikawrites]

LOST IN THE CONCRETE JUNGLE CHAPTER NINE

Bad Omens x Star Wars

Pairing: Zebastian (Noah Sebastian) x F!Reader

CW: none

Summary: You are the perfect senator's daughter- next in line to become his aide to learn everything about the Galactic Senate. But on your 21st birthday, your perfect life changes forever when the mysterious masked man you met at the nightclub was not who you thought he was.

A/N: POV switching from second to first occurs often in the story. Shout out to my amazing beta team @mysticdoodlez, @roley-poley-foley, and @nerdraging4point0 your insight and cheerleading has been invaluable.

word count: 2k Crossposted: Wattpad & A03 Master list Cast list

May the Force be with you✨

Scorching pain spreading through your hand jolts your body awake. As your eyes adjust to the dim light you find yourself sitting on a hard and dirty floor surrounded by concrete walls, much like the warehouse Zebastian held you captive. 

But this isn’t the warehouse. Iron bars barricade you in from the rest of the area and you can hear shallow breathing in the distance. Skylar? 

Suddenly, distorted mechanical chatter pulls you from your exploration. A medic droid is pulling a syringe from your hand after expelling some clear liquid into your bloodstream. Fear grips your stomach and you have to swallow down the bile threatening to release itself from your esophagus. 

“What are you doing!?” Panic pitches your voice high and thin as blood pounds in your ears. Your vision starts to darken when you manage to push yourself away from the machine with your legs as you clutch your injured hand tight to your chest. But the pain is no longer there.

“What did you do? What did you put in me?!” The droid does not respond to your questions but rather turns away to plunge its key from its metal arm into the keyhole by the bars. Metallic whirring ends with a clink as the locks click and a small section of the bars gives way just small enough for the droid to roll through. Much too small for you to squeeze through. Without warning, a deep voice cuts through your panic.

“To heal you, of course,” a deep distorted voice comes from a dark figure appearing from the shadows. Instinct takes over as you spring up from the floor ready to defend yourself with- well the only thing you have, your fists. You square your shoulders and clench your fists as adrenaline pumps through your body. 

“Why did you heal me?” you bite out as the figure approaches the metal bars. This didn’t seem right, your captor healing you. It’s not like they were just going to let you leave.

“To prolong the torture.” 

The figure steps into the dim light, dressed from head to toe in black flowing robes and a mask covering their face. You step back until your back hits the wall, each step taking your bravery with it. Wrapping your arms around yourself, you tremble, wishing someone could save you. 

Just as the bars of your enclosure begin to slide open, two stormtroopers burst in dragging someone with them. The body stumbles into the cell with you. When they right themselves you let out an audible gasp and try to reach for them, but your feet feel like they are weighted down with cement.

“Father?” you croak. All you can muster is this fragile state.

Before you can react, the shadowy figure glides to your father’s side and shoves a glowing baton to his back. Your father howls in pain and hunches over, breathing heavily. 

Your captor turns to you and says, “He’s not here to save you. This is his test to prove his allegiance to the Empire.” You stand frozen in horror as your father towers over you. In a flash, any conflict he had before is gone and what is left is pure anger.  Just like in his office when he found out you snuck off to level 1313 for your birthday. You set your jaw when the realization hits you that your father is not going to save you. 

Don’t say a word. 

“Tell me what you know about Zebastian,” your father spits out his name. 

Anger starts to boil in your stomach, but you keep it at bay with your steady breathing and cool expression. In a blur of movement, his large hand makes contact with your cheek and pain shoots through your face. Stumbling backward, you lose your footing and crash into the wall, your arm bracing the impact. You scream as excruciating pain rips through the same limb as before. 

Tears flow freely from your eyes now blurring your vision as the shock sets in. Blinking away the tears, you notice your wrist comm is shattered. Your lifeline, your only hope, gone. Guttural cries pull you from your despair. Your father is lying crumpled on the ground as more electric currents assault his body. 

Swiftly, the shadowy figure steps aside keeping its gaze in your direction. Your father grunts as he rises to stand, a string of saliva drips down his chin as he bares his teeth. 

“Don’t make me say it again,” he says through clenched teeth. Slowly, you shuffle to your feet, clutching your injured arm to your chest. You stare your father in the eyes preparing the words you and everyone in your defense training class were taught when you were learning to become a senatorial aide. Clearing your throat, you square your shoulders not breaking eye contact with your father. 

“My name is-” smack. thud.

You don’t know how long it's been since you finally come to. There is a small bump on your head and your arm is definitely broken. You’ve become numb to the pain as tears stream down your face when you curl your legs into your chest for warmth as a cool breeze rushes over you.

Suddenly a swarm of shadowy figures rushes into the room. Your heartbeat races and you shut your eyes tight, curling yourself into a ball in the corner hoping to just disappear. A metallic ting rings into your ears as the bars unlock. You grip your knees tighter to stop your trembling body. Your heartbeat beats in time with the fast footfalls flooding the small cell. The air gets thick and your breathing shallows.

“There’s my lost girl,” a soft and warm voice envelops your shivering body. Afraid your mind is tricking you, you remain still for a breath longer. The same voice calls your name again and this time you look. Concern flashes in a familiar pair of brown eyes and you let out a small sob of relief. 

He’s here. He’s really here. 

A thousand questions flood your mind as your eyes scan the shadowy figures in cloaks and red skull masks. Your eyes bug wide and your mouth drops open. Zebastian takes a cautious step backward sensing your fear. He is surrounded by the lethal members of the Scarlet Dagger. The most notorious gang in all of Coruscant. 

“Please,” he breathes out, his eyes not leaving yours. “We don’t have much time.”

Seeing no other way out, you accept his outstretched hand, covered in his signature leather glove. Somehow you comfort in his familiar touch and smell. 

“Hold still,” Zebastian instructs as he leans down to grab the hem of your dress. Your brows knit together as he pulls the kal from its holster at his hip, and starts to tear the bottom of your dress into one long strip. 

“Wait-”

“I need to bandage your arm,” he says quickly once he finishes debasing Skylar’s dress. Now you owe her a new dress and an explanation…if we make it out of here. 

He makes quick work of splinting your injured arm and then hoists you into his arms. You want to argue that you can walk just fine, but your mind becomes hazy as the stress hormones continue to surge. 

Once Zebastian starts to move the shadowy figures fall in place, shielding us as we move as one through the halls. Sounds of blaster fire ricochets off the walls and the bodies surrounding you spread out wide to cover more ground. Zebastian moves quickly through the corridors when the coast is clear. Suddenly, a deep voice crackles through Zebastian’s comm, “We got her, let’s go.” 

Footsteps get louder as we approach a side door and Zebastian breaks into a sprint. You pull yourself into his chest, shutting your eyes tight until you hear the metal doors shut behind you. 

A blur of blackness engulfs the group when we finally make it outside to the waiting starfighter. The vessel is sleek, matte black and hides amongst the shadows as more cloaked figures approach the landing ramp. A shock of electric blue peeks through the darkness. Relief washes over you as you watch Skylar being carried into the ship. 

Finally safe at last.

In the medical bay of the ship, Jax and Revan rapid-fire questions at you as they assess your injuries. Exhausted, you rub your temples as a pang of jealousy shoots through you. Skylar lays peacefully oblivious and unconscious on the other bed next to yours. Both of the men have reassured you numerous times that she was unharmed but you have your doubts. 

You consent to the syringe of pain blocker as Revan fits your injured arm into a sling. Once the pair have finished doting over you, which you find strangely comforting, you ask Revan to help you up from the bed. Before leaving the room, you insist they stay and watch over your best friend. 

You shuffle through the small corridor to the command deck, tugging Jax’s cloak tighter against your small frame, but stop dead in your tracks. A gasp spills from your lips as you take in the scene before you.

“Wow,” you whisper, etching to memory the gold and green hues. In awe, you barely register a tall body coming to your side to ask you if you are okay. Blinking, he says your name again and you quickly nod your answer, your eyes never leaving the breathtaking landscape. 

Suddenly, a warm hand envelops yours, your feet moving on their own to the chair in front of you. A deep voice mumbles something inherently behind you but you don’t hear it until a hand shakes your shoulders when it hits you. 

“What?” you ask as you peel your eyes away from the trees passing by. You suck in a breath as your cheeks blush when you meet Zebastian’s bright playful gaze and dazzling smile, no mask in sight. 

He takes a step closer and leans down to whisper, “Strap in princess, we are about to land.” A shiver washes over you, his voice settling into the base of your spine. 

Quickly, turning away to hide your embarrassment, you pull on the lap belt at your waist and keep your eyes forward as the ship slowly descends. Nervously fidgeting with your hands on your lap, you take in a deep breath to calm your nerves only for your lungs to be flooded with his scent as Zebastian takes the seat behind you. Any attempt to cool the bubbling arousal in your stomach is useless against his suffocating proximity. 

“Ready?” Zebastian asks, extending his gloved hand for you to take. Rising from the chair he leads you through the ship to the landing ramp when Revan and Jax trek ahead pushing the medical bed Sky inhibits.

A medical droid and humanoid male with the hurried men escorting the trio into Zebastian’s massive house. Heavy feet plant you to the ground as you take in your surroundings. Tall trees circle the house, a natural camouflage to a random drifter. Twirling around you realize no one would ever find you here and that simultaneously terrifies and excites you. 

Noticing your absence from his side, Zebastian turns to you, “Coming?” 

Zebastian, the leader of the most notorious and deadly gang, let you- you of all people, see his home; the forbidden place that very few people see and get to live to tell the tale. With a racing heart and wide smile, you confidently take his hand and let him lead you into his home.

tysm for reading!

👑Royal Readers👑

@deathblacksmoke @mysticdoodlez @itsmrsfuentes @tearfallpixie

@cncohshit @circle-with-me @blackveilomens @kingdomof-omens @cookiesupplier

@agravemisstake @whenthesummerdies @iknownothingpeople @nerdraging4point0

@dominuslunae @xxrainstorm @lyschko666 @kingdxmxfcxrds @the-ancient-fae

@measuredingold @to-be-written @lacktoesandtoddlerants @koskeepsake @blackveilomens @monotoniscreaming @trvshdxddy @emzandthevoid @midnight-eternals

@th4t-em0-k1d @knivesforapro @alastriaa

@collapsedglasshouses @snarkysolaris @anameunmusical @jakeygvf21 @caitcoreeeee

@lihlelecrizzi @itsafullmoon @thatchickwiththecamera

If you want to be part of the my Royal Readers👑 (tag list) please fill out this form

[cosmica-galaxy]

Mimic OC

Name: Gearbriel

Mimic Species: Clock-speaker hybrid, gender neutral

Friendly or not: Friendly towards the alliance member, but avoids humans.

How does it hunt: Typical clock mimic feeding method, but their main diet includes rats and insects.

Any special abilities: Typical clock mimic abilities + flight.

They have 6 wings originally, but one of their wings got damaged by a stray missile during their fight with the local Skibidis.

Never interact with other mimics because they never got educated in mimic socialization.

Lives in a abandoned cathedral in England.

Backstory:

Gearbriel is the adopted sibling of Foley, named after the seraphim Gabriel because of their appearance. When Foley was still a brand new speakerman that worked as a bartender, his boss bought Gearbriel from the black market, and entrusted them to Foley. Foley had no affection for the little furball at first, but when he found out that Gearbriel almost eradicated the entire rat and cockroach population around the bar, he began to take a liking to them.

A few years later, Foley found that Gearbriel is actually a clock and speaker mimic hybrid, and horrified by the sole reason that his boss bought Gearbriel – their head would fetch a good price when they mature. Eventually, Foley decided to free Gearbriel and told his little sibling to go wherever they desired, as long as they didn’t go back.

5 years later, the Skibidi Apocalypse began, Foley went back to the speakerman faction and took part in the war. During a particular mission, Foley returned to England and encountered Gearbriel in an abandoned cathedral.

 Original description: 

https://www.tumblr.com/striderl/735921981558554624/staring-skibidi-multiverse-mimic-oc?source=share -- Here’s an entry from our beloved @striderl​! Gearbriel’s design is fantastic for a hybrid mimic and I adore it a LOT! I also think them having a backstory intertwined with Foley is wonderful! It fills in their character and world nicely! :D

[djbunnie]

Oooo!!! What if Sam helped Danny with the "dodging the bullet" moment!!!

Sam knew Danny in highschool Peripherally. He was one of the popular kids (the good kind). And Sam was a bookworm. The new girl Paulina, Sam and she became friends (along with Val, star, dora) a few months later, Paulina started dating Danny. At first she seemed cool and they would talk about everything. At one point, she starts talking about how she has been hooking up with her ex-boyfriend (Dash Baxter) behind Danny’s back. Just before the end of the school year. Paulina tells Sam she is pregnant and that she knows it belongs to her ex boyfriend. She is laughing and really proud of herself because Danny is going to do the right thing. Withdraw his college application and go work to support her and the baby. Her ex, the father of the baby, is kind of a loser, so she thinks it’s the best thing, even if she can continue banging dash while making Danny support her. 

Sam really didn’t know Danny that well, but she got his phone number from an acquaintance of hers who knew it (Tucker Foley aka Danny BFF). Sam anonymously Texted him about the Paulina ploy and said “get a paternity test. The baby isn't yours.”

He then thanked Sam. (through text)

Danny and Paulina broke up. He cussed her out and Danny went to college and made something of his life.

I thought maybe... Paulina told Danny that they had sex at a party when they were drunk, Danny believed her of course, it made sense at the time. but in reality they never had sex because Paulina was with Dash.

Sam did the right thing; she cut Paulina off and moved on with her life…

Meanwhile, before they graduate. Danny wanted to know who sent him the text? He wanted to thank them personally, and wanted to repay them by saving his life.  After a couple of days, Danny almost wanted to give up. He tried calling and texting them. But they didn't respond. Until, when Danny arrived at Nasty Burger and sat at the booth next to Val, star, dora. He overheard their conversation about their ex-friend and how they were lucky to have good friends like Sam in their lives. Praising her for warning Danny from paulina.

When Danny learned that it was Sam who warned him, he went to find her...but Sam was really busy. Because they were graduating soon, Sam was too busy apartment hunting, packing her stuff, and etc.

Unfortunately they never did meet up, after graduation Sam left right away. (I'm being lazy so I'm going to reuse some of the office love idea lol) Sam and Danny met again later in life, (they are 25-26 years old) Sam and Danny were at a bar or some cafe. It was Danny who approached her first. 

Danny: “Sam is that you?”

Sam: “huh? I'm sorry, do I know you?”

Danny: “It’s me Danny! Danny Fenton…we went to the same highschool…and you saved me from Paulina.”

Sam: “Oh! OMG!!! Danny!!!”

Danny: *Chuckle*

They got to talking about life, careers, etc. Sam told Danny about her great job as a game illustrator, originally she wanted to go into business, but she wasn't happy. Then she entered a game art contest, won first prize and got an internship. Sam dropped out of college and has been working for the company ever since. And she loves it. And to further her career she is taking night classes to gain the skills as a generalist animator and/or 3D modeler.

Danny was impressed by Sam, but not as impressed as Sam when she learned Danny is an Aerospace Engineer!!!

Sam: “WOW!!! That is so COOL!!!”

Danny: “it’s nothing.”

Sam: “don’t be so modest, Mr. Aerospace Engineer. I bet you're making Bank. your gf is a lucky lady to have you.“

Danny: “actually…no.”

Sam: “wha?”

Danny: “I-i don't have a gf.”

Sam: “....”

Danny: “....”

Sam: “....im sorry, i have a hard time believing that.”

Danny: “it’s because of the incident with Paulina, i'm having difficulty with trusting women in an intimate/ romantic setting. ”

Sam: “oh..right, yeah i don't blame you.”

Danny: “Sam…i've been wanting to thank you, for saving me from a miserable fate as a factory worker to support that wicked woman and raising someone else's child. It was thanks to you, I was able to pursue my dreams of working in NASA and freedom.”

Sam: “Oh please, anyone in my position would have done the same.”

I was thinking Danny kind of lied but not really, don't get it wrong. Danny was traumatized. He was never serious in a relationship but he has had a lot of one night stands. and Danny has been very careful. He took every precaution. Danny knows he's in a position where women would do anything to lock him down (baby trap him and etc) because he is very successful and financially good, so yeah.

also it will be interesting throughout the years when Danny is sleeping with other women he imagines he's with Sam!!! 🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️

Danny: “What about you? How was your dating life?”

Sam: “It sucks, I've only been with two…well technically one serious relationship.”

The first guy was mostly a “friend with benefits” and the second one was her ex-fiance. (Gregor,) the liar and cheater. Since then Sam has been single since.

I think it would be really sweet if Danny only sees him and Sam having a future together. So Sam and Danny would have a second chance in love/ Friends to lovers type of love story story.

[iavenjqasdf]

⛓blameless💸

As I notice the cat paw charm along the chain squeezing hard into the tender flesh around my whole neck type area, I start to REALLY regret trying to nab this bitch's wallet. In my defense this bitch had an insanely long chain, and there was really no way I could have reasonably foreseen a scenario where I would get a good five feet away before the slack ran out and it yanked her belt hard in my exact direction. Where was she even keeping all that rope?

No, ropes are soft and fibrous, like my neck, and the metal wrapped tight around it, digging all my little necklaces and trinkets into stencils on my flesh, reminds me of that. If I make it out of this alive, I'm probably never going to forget that difference again.

Oh thank god, a bit of slack. Maybe she's coming to her senses and letting me go.

Wait, how'd her boot get back there?

Her glute flexes hard and she stomps my head against the urinal. You know how they crack celery near a microphone to record bone crunching noises for Foley? An entire dump truck of the stuff just slammed into the side of my skull. It's like when you fall off a building in Mirror's Edge (2008) and hear every bone in your body hitting pavement from 50 stories up, except there's no white loading respawn screen for me, there's just the disgusting dark green light reflected in the tiles in this dirty old bathroom.

I sputter up a mouthful of blood, surprised I still remember how to breathe. I hear little tic-tac noises clattering around everywhere and realize at least some of them are probably my teeth.

Once again, kind of not my fault. At this point I don't think what she's doing could be considered self-defense, so I'm gonna get whatever money I'm owed for this awful injury. I can paper over the little bleeding calcium stumps in my gums with the settlement from when I sue her ass into living in this shitty little bathroom. But first I need to get out of it, myself.

I grasp for something to lean against, and my hand lands in the bottom part of another urinal. It's too dark to know for sure but the water feels clean. Like there's only liquids in there, at least. Small victories. I feel it crack and wonder if maybe something's wrong with my hand now too but then the whole fixture cracks clean off the wall, raining little porcelain chunks and dubiously clean water all over me, all the little white crunchy bits getting mixed together around her boots and the length of chain that now hangs almost all the way to the ground beside it.

I just lost half my teeth in a bathroom fitted with prop breakaway toilets. How's your night going?

She breathes heavy, not moving. That big boot of hers could probably crush my skull and add a third kind of fragment to the mixture coming out of my face holes, but she just keeps standing there, blotting out the light from the frosted glass door. When is someone going to come in and rescue me already? I saw at least one other guy at the bar, and statistically speaking at least one more has to work here.

"I'm telling everyone what you did to me and then they're going to be on my side hahahahahaha" Shut the fuck up, me. Why would you say that? Of course, you couldn't exactly blame me, I'm under a lot of stress of course, and-

She kicks my head and I go skidding across the tile, connecting puddles of blood and piss and urinal juice in watercolor constellations as I slide into the corner. I hear metal clicking but my hair's fallen into my face and I can't see what she's doing. Probably something else illegal and unfair.

"You're not telling anyone shit." I feel something cold around my neck, but I'm still a bit woozy from being kicked in the head, so I don't notice until it's too late for me to successfully fight back (which I definitely could've if I'd just known in time) that she's looped the chain around my neck and clicked the lead into itself so now it's like a noose connecting me to her belt with just enough slack that I stumble to my feet as she leaves, and have to follow her with my neck bowed to give me enough room to breathe as we leave the empty bathroom and the empty bar and approach one of two cars in the parking lot, desert mountains dark all around us, visible only by where the stars stop twinkling.

I spit another tooth onto the pavement. A trunk pops open, a belt is undone. Does this bitch even know who she's dealing with? I shout, sound echoing unheard into the night.

ao3

[bronzelightburns]

Someone should draw Sgt. Foley, the Arbiter, Spawn, and Goliath chilling at Husk's bar

And Angel Dust walks in and he just blue screens from Husk's "new pals" a.k.a. the overwhelming masculinity of Keith David times five