#let me know if i forgot to tag anything

[shady-tavern]

The Tailors on Baker Street

Warning for implied/referenced domestic abuse and murder. Please take care of yourselves, this is possibly a bit darker than my usual fare.

***

There was a tailoring shop at the end of Baker Street, a small but rather popular store, run by a married couple. They were ever polite and friendly, sharing gossip with mischievous winks and listening to the trouble of their customers. 

Their wares were of good quality and it was said they could fix every dress and coat, no matter the rip. Whatever one needed, they had it and they were said to finish orders swiftly and as desired. Their fine stitches and detailed embroidery were the envy of many.

There was another rumor about them, shared in soft whispers and away from prying ears. When you had fled to your friend, terrified, helpless and bruised, admitting you couldn't take it any longer, she had told you there was a solution to your problems.

Go to the tailors at the end of Baker Street and present them with a daisy, your friend had told you, briefly dipping into her yard to pluck one, shoving the small flower into your shaking hands. Give it to them, they'll know what to do.

And here you were, in front of a modest, well taken care of storefront. A carriage bustled past behind you and you fiddled with the daisy, doing your best not to wear it down with your gut-wrenching anxiety.

It took more courage than should be necessary to set foot into the store, your heart pounding hard enough you felt it beat in your throat. There were some customers, looking over ribbons and fabric, before examining shirts, breaches and skirts, along with coats and dresses on hangers. They barely paid you any mind, too focused on their tasks.

You nearly squished the poor flower in your grip as you lingered by the door, fighting the urge to leave before someone spotted you.

"Welcome and good day, how may I help you?" a woman's pleasant voice made you flinch in surprise and you turned to the lady who had approached you. She was beautiful and well dressed, if simply, for work. Her dark hair was neatly pinned up and pretty earrings reflected the light. 

She wore a brooch, made of three daisies and her eyes held a strange, golden shimmer. You quickly chalked that up to the light falling in through the window. Some people simply had unique eyes, after all, but these held you captive for just a moment despite your body nearly shivering with stress.

"Um." You gestured with your hands, mouth dry and heart pounding. Her gaze fell to the slightly worn looking daisy.

"Oh, how silly of me," she said, stepping back and gesturing for you to walk ahead of her. "You're here to pick up a custom order, aren't you? Forgive me for forgetting, it has been such a busy day."

You wobbled a small, unsure nod and scurried ahead, head kept down. The woman led you to the back of the store, where real custom orders were waiting on a rack, all finished and well made. The space was clean and neat and had two worktables below the windows, one abandoned with a half finished blouse lying neatly on top.

A tall man looked up from the second table, pausing in sewing a silver button onto a dark blue coat. "Has there been an issue with an order, Milly?" he asked, mild and pleasant, voice the nice kind of slightly-deep. He was handsome, his beard and hair neat and well groomed. He was just as well, if simply, dressed as the woman and he, too, wore a brooch made of three daisies.

His gaze fell to the by now somewhat mangled flower in your hands and he hummed in understanding, setting the coat aside. You felt your shoulders hitch up a bit at his undivided attention.

"Please, take a seat," the woman said, gesturing to an empty stool. "We'll be right with you."

As you nervously perched, rather than sat, you saw her set out a sign and close the door to the backroom.

"How can we help you?" the man asked, calm and steady, his hands folded in his lap. 

His face was kind, but there was a glint in his eyes, something as cool and sharp as the scissors lying near his elbow. You noticed a strangely golden shimmer in his eyes as well, but you were too anxious and worried to wonder about that.

"We would love to know who recommended us," the woman added and while she smiled, pretty and charming, she too had eyes of sharp, cold steel. "We love to see our business grow in the right direction, after all."

You glanced between them, wetting your lips. "My friend, Jane Martin, said I should come here." 

Should you leave? Sure, you were terrified to go back home, but could they really help? Would they even believe you? Was it right to get strangers involved, maybe even hurt? 

Lots of people were in your position, stuck with people who mistreated them. Just last week they had fished a dead woman out of the river, face and neck bruised.

At your words, subtle tension eased out of their faces and their eyes lost the sharp coldness. "Miss Martin is a very valued customer," the woman said with a smile that truly looked pleasant now, not just pretty. Something about it made your shoulders relax a little. "Forgive our caution, I am Milly and this is my husband Julius, what brings you to us?"

"You seem a bit haggard," Julius added, a soothing tone to his voice that unexpectedly helped you take a calming breath. "I'll go and make us all a cup of tea."

Milly took a seat by the free table, most likely hers, arranging her skirts in an elegant motion. Their manners were as prim and proper as those of the upper class, though their fingers were callused and you noticed a small scar on Julius' wrist as he prepared tea.

"Take your time," Milly said, voice gentle and patient and you felt your throat tighten all of a sudden, tears blurring your vision. "Speak with us whenever you're ready."

"What about your store?" you asked, an unwanted rough quality to your voice that gave away your emotional state.

"No need to worry." Julius offered you a reassuring smile.

You had no idea how they did it, but their presences felt...pleasant. You usually didn't trust strangers, but looking at them, you found the tight grip around your heart and stomach easing. They did not look at you with pity, and instead their calming steadiness felt reassuring.

Even the guilt and shame felt muted as a gentle floral scent filled the air, sunshine casting everything in soft warmth. Under other circumstances you might have left again, not wanting to bother these kind, unexpectedly pleasant people.

But the fear that had driven you out of your house still sat in your gut like a block of poisoned ice. Once again you wished you had found the courage to back out of the marriage after you had accepted the proposal in front of your family. 

Your parents however had been all-too happy that you had married into a rich family and they did not want to hear anything bad about your spouse. They especially had cut you off mid-sentence when you had suggested going public. They would not want to risk the wrath of a richer family upon themselves.

Your father had suggested that it was your fault that your spouse was...unpleasant. That you weren't sweet enough, kind enough, accommodating enough. That you didn't listen enough, that you talked back too much. You hadn't spoken with your parents since.

You had gone to the police exactly once and you knew better than to do that again. Your spouse was a valued member of higher society after all and had made sure you understood how far their influence reached.

"Here you go," Julius said, handing you the cup of tea, his fingers carefully not brushing yours, and sitting down. "Speak freely, we will believe you."

You met their gazes and they were so steady and earnest you felt breath flow into your lungs properly for the first time in days. You believed that they would believe you. It settled something within you, your withered courage taking root and growing enough to help you speak.

Haltingly you told them the story, clinging to the delicate porcelain cup Julius had handed you. You couldn't bring yourself to take a sip, but the floral fragrance and the heat warming your cold fingers helped.

"Are you safe at the moment?" Julius asked after you finished your story.

"I'm staying with my friend." For now. For as long as she could hide you at her place without your spouse causing trouble.

"If you ever find yourself unsure where to go, come to us," Milly said, gaze serious. "No matter the time. One of us will let you in and you will be safe here."

You inclined your head, hoping you were never forced to take them up on their offer. It was strange, however, that you believed that, too. A part of you, more instinct than rational thought, already felt safer. It shouldn't be possible, not when you knew how powerful your spouse was. That simple tailors couldn’t stand a chance against someone who could crush them in so many ways.

And yet...it felt like fear had no place here. Banished from this room by sunshine and the presence of these two, who had eyes tinged in gold. Who looked at you with so much truth nothing could have shaken it apart. You realized that your fingers had stopped shaking, that your skin no longer felt cold.

There was a thread of calm that had settled within you while you had spoken, easing your heart and soul.

"There is but one thing we need of you," Julius said, drawing your attention. "Would you mind leaving the key to your home with us? You can retrieve it again at the end of the week, at which point you can return home."

"Oh, of course." You pulled the key out of your pocket, handing it over. "What are you going to do?"

Milly's smile could have been reassuring and compassionate at first glance, but all it reminded you of was a razor sharp blade held against an unprotected throat. Not your throat, you still felt that sense of safety, but more like a weapon waiting to drink the blood of its enemy. "We'll take care of things, don't you worry."

You should keep asking. You should ask what they were going to do. If you were a good person, like the priest preached you were supposed to be, you would ask for the key back and request they forget your visit. You should return home, obedient and quiet and accept the place you had been given. The hand fate had dealt you.

But your mouth felt glued shut and the courage rooted within you stubbornly grew a tiny bloom of hope. Fuck fate. Fuck God if this was what He considered just and right. You deserved better, you deserved to live without fear and pain. You handed over the cup when Julius held out his hand for it.

"Let me show you out," Milly said and you found yourself secretly glad to not immediately lose her company. "There is a carriage that will take you back to your friend." When you tried to protest, she silenced you with a sweet, genuine smile. "Let us look after you as long as you're here."

While Julius cleaned up the cups, Milly accompanied you to the front step of the shop and waved over a waiting carriage. "Make sure she gets home safe, Leopold," she said, offering her hand to help you into the carriage. 

"Stay safe," she murmured at last and for just a moment, you swore the gold gleam in her eyes was brighter than ever. You nodded and she closed the door, her gaze holding yours until the carriage lurching into motion. Even then you looked back at her and saw her watching you leave until you rounded the corner.

You gripped the thoroughly mangled daisy tightly and closed your eyes. You didn't dare pray, worried that god might notice and put a stop to things. But deep down, you hoped you would be free soon, no matter how it happened.

*.*.*

You returned to the shop at the end of the week, feeling exhausted and frayed, like an old, worn piece of fabric. Your friend had done her best to distract you and keep you busy, but it hadn't helped against the tension that wouldn't leave you.

It was early when you showed up and Milly had only just opened the store, since both had just finished setting up the last of their wares.

"Ah, good day, my dear," Milly said with unexpected warmth, stepping toward you as though you were truly welcome company. 

You were surprised to see how happy and languid she appeared to be. Her husband moved with the same deep relaxation when he bowed his head respectfully to you, offering a charming smile. 

Strangely enough, they reminded you of well fed cats enjoying a spot of golden sunlight. An air of effortless confidence surrounded them, a quiet strand of power that wove into the sense of safety that lingered all around them.

"I'm not too early?" you asked, your nervously wringing hands claming. Whatever they had done, it had made them very and deeply happy.

Milly's smile morphed into a grin and the gold in her eyes was brighter than ever before. She seemed so radiant you couldn't look away. She was easily the most beautiful woman you had ever seen. "No, of course not. Are you ready to head back home?"

You didn't mention that the house of your spouse had never felt like home. The last time you would have called a place that, you had been a child of eight and had stayed with your aunt and grandmother during the summer months. After the falling-out your father had with his side of the family, you hadn't seen them again.

"I am," you answered anyway. You couldn't continue to live at your friend's place. Even if she didn't mind, she was currently seeing a particularly sweet gentleman and once they became serious about each other, you'd swiftly overstay your welcome.

Julius stepped forward, all fluid grace and pulled your key from his pocket. His eyes too seemed brighter than ever, making your eyes linger on his face. He really was so very handsome.

"All is well," he said, quiet and certain, when handing over the key, his fingertips ever so carefully brushing yours.

"Alright." Your voice was soft and you glanced between them. "Thank you. Do I owe you anything?"

"No, not at all, this was our pleasure," Milly answered, voice as sweet as honey and her smile felt like it was meant just for you. "Anything else we can do for you?"

"No, um, but really, thank you." You gave them a clumsy, heartfelt bow and they elegantly curtseyed back, an amused mischievousness to their smiles. "I'll get out of your hair now."

"Our hair hardly minds," Julius answered. "Please, feel free to come back whenever you like."

"We'll be glad to help in whatever way we can, or just to chat," Milly added, leaning against her husband, both of them looking right at home with each other and within their store. "Be sure to speak to Leopold if you like, he'll take you home."

You couldn't help but smile back a bit and after a last dip of your head, you stepped back outside. An elderly woman bustled past you with her grandson, grandly telling him to pick whatever he liked best for his wedding.

You took a deep breath, so deep it almost ached in your lungs and you clutched the key tight. Was...was it over? Just like that? All your worries and fears could cease to be? Rubbing a hand over your face, you approached Leopold, who was softly talking with the horses, massaging their foreheads.

The young man, just barely out of boyhood, was happy to bring you home, helping you into the carriage and whistling as he started driving. You clung tightly to the key, nerves making your stomach squirm and your heart was beating harder, the closer you came to home. 

And yet, fear didn't claw its way up your throat. You believed the tailors that it was done and dealt with. You...trusted them, as inexplicable as that might be. It was as if a small bit of safety had stayed with you after your visit to their store and it accompanied you even now.

At last, Leopold stopped and you took a deep breath before leaving the carriage. "Thank you," you said, tipping him some money and his face lit up.

"Have a nice day," he said with a cheerful bow of his head, then drove on.

The house looked just like you remembered it, flowers blooming and nothing was out of place. Swallowing and taking another deep breath, you walked up the path to the front door. You unlocked the door, cautiously peeking inside.

Nothing. The house smelled like fresh air and the maid must've been by yesterday, for new flowers filled the vase on a side-table. Stepping past the threshold, you carefully walked onward, your steps sounding too loud in the silent house.

You found your spouse sitting in the study, breathing calmly and not reacting to your presence. The sharp stab of bitter disappointment quickly faded to startled realization. Empty eyes stared ahead unseen, no emotion visible on your spouse's face.

"Um..." You managed to say after a long moment, but it brought you no reaction.

Your mind rebelled, hurrying towards the excuse of drugs and poison and other mixtures, but deep down you knew your spouse was gone. The thing that sat there was an empty shell, no soul remaining, and you had no idea what to do.

In the end, after puttering around nervously for a few minutes, you ended up sending for the family doctor. The older man who showed up usually came for you, making sure you'd heal fine. 

"Oh my, this does not look good," he muttered the moment he spotted your spouse, hurrying onward. "When did you notice something was wrong?"

"I was visiting a friend for a few days," you said and his gaze was knowing when he glanced at you. "I, um, came back this morning and noticed how quiet it was. I was glad at first, but when I went in here to check..." You gestured at the limp, unresponsive body.

The doctor hummed in understanding, already reaching out to find the issue. It didn't take long before they sent for a carriage to bring your partner to the hospital. You were allowed to come along and nurses hurriedly wheeled your spouse away the moment you arrived.

You sat and waited, time passing both too fast and too slow. At last, a doctor approached you, quiet and apologetic. It seemed your partner had suffered an aneurysm and there was nothing they could do. Your spouse would be dead soon.

The tears that rose sharply were seen as tears of grief, instead of the soul-deep relief that swept through you. The staff was very kind, comforting you and letting you sit with your spouse, who didn't even make it through the night. Finally, you were free.

Afterwards you went home, standing in the large, rich house and you realized that it all belonged to you now. The money of your spouse belonged to you. But most of all, you were finally, finally free.

You broke down crying, helpless laughter mixing into the tears and the gasping. Afterwards you took a carriage to your friend's place, forgetting the late hour. You didn't want to stay in that house any longer than you had to. Your friend was startled when she opened bleary eyed, then grimly happy when you told her the news.

"They solve problems like that," she said after holding you in her arms. "The tailors. No one asks how they do it or what exactly they do and we don't rat them out either. I'm so glad they helped."

You fell asleep in her arms and when you woke, the sun shining through the window made you smile. Your heart felt like a newly uncaged bird, almost too afraid to fly and taste that freedom fully.

Hope bloomed like a meadow of wild flowers and you breathed through a new wave of tears. Your future had turned from a grim, dark end into something bright and open. It was all yours, yours to finally do with as you pleased.

The house was soon sold, the art within donated, along with a portion of the money. You fended off your parents, who swept in to try and weasel out money and power for themselves. They deserved nothing after marrying you off to someone they suspected would mistreat you and then left you in the jaws of a metaphorical wolf.

The air was growing cold by the time everything was taken care of and you had moved into a new place, your friend supporting you all the way. 

You only rarely suffered from nightmares these days and you slowly unearthed all the pieces of you that you had buried. The pieces your spouse had not liked, had despised. There was damage done, undoubtedly, and some days it felt like too much, but you had so many reasons to keep going. To keep moving forward.

There were people, however, who did deserve a piece of your newfound fortune. Leaves were crunching beneath your shoes as you approached the store at the end of Baker Street, this time not afraid. No, you were anything but afraid.

Julius was taking care of some customers as you stepped inside, a pleasant scent greeting you. A smile was on your face and you breathed in that steadfast safety that lingered with both tailors present. It eased your heart as it had the last two times and this time you couldn't help but sink into it fully, shoulders relaxing.

Milly approached you after ringing up a lady at the counter, smiling in warm welcome. "How lovely to see you again," she said and there was a brief, hard glint in her eyes. "I hope all went well?"

"Yes." You reached into your pocket, pulling out a small box. "I know you said no gratitude was necessarry, but I still wish to give you this. I, um, picked it myself."

She looked charmed and chuckled softly. "How could I ever refuse such a sweet gesture?"

Her fingertips were warm as they brushed yours ever so gently, while she accepted the box. Your hands tingled and you only realized you had leaned slightly towards her, when you caught yourself.

She held your gaze a moment longer, before glancing down and curiously opening it. A happy smile broke out across her face and her gaze grew warm and soft and this time you could admit to yourself that there was nothing normal about the golden shimmer brightening in her eyes.

"You are truly beautiful, inside and out," she murmured, closing the box again and your breath caught a little at her words. "Thank you, for this sweet gift."

You couldn't help but smile back shyly. Julius joined you in this moment, a satisfied customer leaving with a happy spring in their step. "Oh? Did my lovely wife get something wonderful?"

"Indeed." She grinned up cheekily. "And I am not going to share."

"There, um, there is no need." You pulled another box from your other pocket and Julius' eye brightened, that golden shimmer growing. "If you'd like?"

"I would love anything you'll gift me," Julius said, voice dipping a bit to something private, just for you. 

He accepted the box, his fingertips brushing yours softly as well, warm and slightly calloused. You curled your hands in, as though you could somehow hold both their touch close this way. Your face started to ache a bit with how much you were smiling now.

Julius opened his box, eyes widening slightly, before he looked up, his smile sweet and charmed. "This is wonderful, thank you."

"I hope you like it, both of you. And that I chose well." You resisted the urge to rock a little on your feet, something your spouse had always hated. You paused. Well, now you had to do it, even if it was just to spite the dark memories in your mind. "You gave me back more than I can put into words."

"Seeing a smile on your face is reward enough," Julius said and for a moment you swore he was about to reach out, before catching himself. "Happiness is a lovely look on you."

"I am happy." And you were. For the first time in far too long, you were happy again.

Ever since you had gotten rid of that house, ever since you had gotten your life back, no matter the struggle and darkness that liked to creep through your mind like seeping tar, happiness and light found you. 

It wriggled in through the cracks, surprised you on calm, sunshine mornings and came in the shape of your new, soft little cat. Every time you ate something sweet that had been forbidden before, every time you picked up a book your spouse would have taken away, it felt like you were stitching yourself back together. Crooked maybe, and never like you were before, but...this was already so much more than you had dared to hope for half a year ago.

"We could take a break," Milly offered, gesturing at the currently empty store. "Would you like to join us for tea, darling?"

The question held a tinge of promise and you found you wanted to reach for it. You found you were ready for what might be offered. "I would love to, thank you."

Milly smiled and went to close the store for the afternoon, while Julius guided you to the backroom, his hand a warm, light and most of all, welcome weight at your back.

You didn't care what they were, if they were human or not. You didn't care what they did to people like your spouse. Not when being in their presence made you feel as though you were wrapped in a blanket spun out of gentle, warm sunshine.

*.*.*

Part Two!

If you’d like to read more and support me at the same time, please consider checking out my patreon! I post monthly short stories and every membership goes towards paying my bill and freeing up more time for more stories that I can write for you!

[sort-of-a-hero-that-way]

Dennis shielding Dee whether it's physical harm or a verbal confrontation. And thinking about ada's tag alongside the gifs

They're both of equal threat to him...

[a-s-levynn]

This is Florence. He likes flowers.

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

ARIIIII HI HELLO HEY !!! i got a bit busy (i hate assessments) but I'm back and I will soon read all the things I added to my tbr that you posted !! soooo excited hehe :3 I wanted to ask how you guys are playing phanpara.... i also want to see all the fun stuff and play.. ☹☹ manifesting the banners for you so you get them easily <333 - ❄ anon

❄️ ANON MY LOVE !! welcome back!!!! :3 i hope your assessments went well…. i’m proud of you for working hard 🫂🫂🫂 AND PLS don’t feel any pressure w the tbr, my fics will always be here when you have the time !!! <3333

BUT YES . phanpara ….. i’m not gonna lie to you anon getting it downloaded on ios was a whole trial of will but 😭😭 it’s actually. fairly simple. it’s easier on android (you just need to download a bunch of apps to emulate it!!) but on ios you need to manually change your appstore region to japan. and then download a vpn app. the biggest downside w ios is that there aren’t really any good translator apps!! :(( on android you can get bubble translate which lets you translate on screen text really easily…. but you won’t get anything like that on ios. so you won’t understand what the characters are saying (unless you take screenshots and throw them into an image translator)….

buuut if you’re still fine with that!! (assuming you have ios and not android)…. then i’ll leave the instructions down below :33 i’ll try to make them as clear as possible but just ask if you have any more questions!! i’d love to help!!! phanpara is sm fun…

ok so . here are all the steps !!

1) make a new appstore account!!

this step is easy :3 … i don’t. remember how i did it tho. pretty sure you just go to the appstore browser page?? or something.., and then you obv just need to add a name and a functional email address!

when you’ve made a new account, make sure that your ios is logged into it . just go to settings -> click your profile -> click on the appstore icon -> log out from your usual account and log in on the new one!! then you just need to press ”show account” to go to the next step.

2) change your region to japan!!

this is the complicated step. it’s not really that complicated though it just took me a while to figure it out 😭😭 you can use this site for reference if my descriptions confuse you lol

when you try to change your region to japan, you’ll be forced to add your name and your address. you can use your normal name (assuming it’s made up of english letters), but you’ll need to generate a jp address!! it’s actually kinda easy. this is the website i used!! it lists all the information you need in the correct order, so just . copy and paste into the settings . (i believe you’ll need to choose the prefecture manually, so just look at the prefecture name on the website and match it with the options ios gives you!!) street name, prefecture, city, zip code, phone number… etcetc. this may or may not be an illegal process but if you’re a gacha enjoyer i’m assuming you like living life on the edge.

you’ll also get the option to add a payment method, but you should be able to skip it by choosing the option at the bottom. this is important because otherwise it won’t let you change your region (unless you happen to have a japanese credit card hanging around)….

when you’ve entered all the necessary information, click the blue text in the top right corner to move on!! if you’ve done everything correctly you should be taken to the jp appstore :3

3) download phanpara + ovpnspider!!

now you’re almost done!!! downloading phanpara should be easy, just search for it in the appstore and. well. download it. when i did this i had to click through some ios popup page..??? but just . click your way through it. trial and error. until it lets you download the app <33

while phanpara is loading, download ovpnspider!! this one is super easy and doesn’t take up much space at all. when it’s finished downloading, just go into the app, go to the ”jp” folder and connect to one of the vpns!! the status has to be ”alive”, but any of them should work :3

4) play phanpara !!

now you should be good to go <33 the only issue is that the vpn can be a little difficult sometimes. phanpara might take a bit to load, and throw you out if the vpn disconnects, but as long as you just exit the app and change the vpn there shouldn’t be any issues. could be a little bothersome sometimes but you get used to it quickly!! just make sure that you’re connected to a vpn, enter phanpara, and play :33 for me it takes up roughly 5gbs of space, so make sure your phone can handle it!!

aaaaand that’s it <333 i’m sorry if this is just. gibberish 😭😭 or if i’m making it sound more complicated than it is …. and pls let me know if it works for you!!! i’d love to be friends in game if you make an account :33 then you’ll be able to use my gojo in battle … hehehe ……..

[hannah-heartstrings]

WIP Wednesday

Thanks for the tag, @inkysqueed!

Tagging: @druidx @babyblueetbaemonster @emeraldhazeart @katastronoot @writercoracain and @inkysqueed back

I haven't been writing much here lately, my brain took a break to hyperfixate on flowers (which I honestly needed). But I do have a large pool of wips to draw from. XD

So here's a scene from a longer one shot I work on every so often about Garrus's eating habits, or lack thereof.

            Garrus slid a knife over his bread, spreading apple butter.             “Yam bread again?” asked another guard at the table.             “Hey, at least he’s eating.”             As a dark elf woman walked in, Garrus looked up. “Fairwyn, I need you to make sure I eat lunch today.”             “Understood,” she gave a quick salute, “beat you up if you don’t eat lunch.”             “That’s not exactly what I said.”             A slight smirk played at her lips. “Apologies, sir, I was under the impression I was filling in for Lecrinn.”             “She doesn’t beat me up either.”             Some of the guards looked unconvinced.             Marcus smirked at him from across the table. “She could though.”             A man beside him looked unsure. “The captain’s like twice her size.”             “The captain hasn’t closed Oblivion gates,” said one, followed by another muttering, “I’m not convinced she has.”             “No, see,” Marcus spoke up, “she’d win because if they for some reason fought, he’d just let her.”             “Ah-” Garrus sighed annoyed, unable to argue with that.

[cyberverse--reblogger]

Size chart for (some) Cyberverse characters!

(Note: The size and conversions into feet will be done below, typed out for convenience.)

So I was scrolling around on Seibertron's discussion threads about cyberverse (somebody was trying to bring some political figures in the conversation and I was so confused) to try and ignore my real-life responsibilities and I stumbled upon this post!

It's a (probably) official size chart for certain characters from cyberverse! I posted another version of the screenshot below. Also, here is the original video from where the size chart came from, and it is also in a playlist, including other videos about this cyberverse magazine.

Note: I suggest you click on the picture or open it in a new tab, as tumblr murdered the quality pretty badly. I also suggest you all to watch the video, because my computer is kinda crappy, and idk if taking a screenshot murdered the quality.

HEIGHT AND CONVERSION INTO IMPERIAL SYSTEM:

This is by the order from left to right, top to bottom. Please note that this isn't exact, as I'm just trying my best with eyeballing the heights, and I'm using google conversion to change this in the imperial system, and I'm also rounding the numbers to only two decimal places. Also, the poses they're doing are really weird (seriously, what are you doing, Acid Storm?), but I'm assuming that wherever their heads end is how tall whoever put this chart together wanted them to be, and they didn't have access to any official art that had everyone standing straight.

By the way, please don't chew me a new butt if I'm off by around 0.10 meters or something. I'm trying my best here, and I don't really want to break out the rulers and grid and do math to find their exact height. I'm just doing this for fun :]

AUTOBOTS/TOP ROW: Bumblebee: 4.75 meters, equivalent to 15.58 feet. Optimus Prime: 5.75 meters, equivalent to 18.86 feet. Windblade: 4.75 meters, equivalent to 15.58 feet. Grimlock: 6 meters, equivalent to 19.69 feet (nice). Hot Rod: 5.25 meters, equivalent to 17.22 feet. Wheeljack: 5.50 meters, equivalent to 18.04 feet. Blurr: 5.50 meters, equivalent to 18.04 feet. Ratchet: 5.65 meters, equivalent to 18.54 feet.

DECEPTICONS/BOTTOM ROW: Megatron: 6.25 meters, equivalent to 20.50 feet. Starscream: 5.10 meters, equivalent to 16.73 feet. Shockwave: 5.75 meters, equivalent to 18.86 feet. Thundercracker: 4.65 meters, equivalent to 15.26 feet. Shadow Striker: 5.65 meters, equivalent to 18.54 feet. Acid Storm: 4.65 meters, equivalent to 15.26 feet. Soundwave: 5.65 meters, equivalent to 18.54 feet. Slipstream: 4.65 meters, equivalent to 15.26 feet.

Below the cut is some stuff that I found interesting, like the average of heights, orders from shortest to tallest, surprises I had, and other thoughts. Take a look!

AVERAGE HEIGHTS OF AUTOBOTS: 5.39 meters, equivalent to 17.69 feet (nice).

AVERAGE HEIGHTS OF DECEPTICONS: 5.29 meters, equivalent to 17.37 feet.

AVERAGE HEIGHTS OF BOTS WITH LAND-BASED ALT-MODES (there were 11 of them in total; 7 Autobots, 4 Decepticons): 5.61 meters, equivalent to 18.40 feet.

AVERAGE HEIGHTS OF BOTS WITH AERIAL-BASED ALT-MODES (there were 5 of them in total; 1 Autobot, 4 Decepticons): 4.76 meters, equivalent to 15.62 feet.

-----

Height re-order; Tallest to shortest, all bots: 1. Megatron (6.25 m // 20.50 ft) 2. Grimlock (6 m // 19.69 ft) 3. Optimus Prime and Shockwave (Both 5.75 m // 18.86 ft) 4. Ratchet, Shadow Striker, and Soundwave (All 5.65 m // 18.54 ft) 5. Blurr and Wheeljack (Both 5.50 m // 18.04 ft) 6. Hot Rod (5.25 m // 17.22 ft) 7. Starscream (5.10 m // 16.73 ft) 8. Bumblebee and Windblade (Both 4.75 m // 15.58 ft) 9. Acid Storm, Slipstream, and Thundercracker (All 4.65 m // 15.26 ft)

Height re-order; Tallest to shortest, Autobots only: 1. Grimlock (6 m // 19.69 ft) 2. Optimus Prime (5.75 m // 18.54 ft) 3. Ratchet (5.65 m // 18.54 ft) 4. Blurr and Wheeljack (Both 5.50 m // 18.04 ft) 5. Hot Rod (5.25 m // 17.22 ft) 6. Bumblebee and Windblade (Both 4.75 m // 15.58 ft)

Height re-order; Tallest to shortest, Decepticons only: 1. Megatron (6.25 m // 20.50 ft) 2. Shockwave (5.75 m // 18.86 ft) 3. Shadow Striker, and Soundwave (Both 5.65 m // 18.54 ft) 4. Starscream (5.10 m // 16.73 ft) 5. Acid Storm, Slipstream, and Thundercracker (All 4.65 m // 15.26 ft)

-----

This whole list was pretty interesting, although I do feel like the animators weren't all that faithful to this (heck, I don't think they had this, and were just told general guidelines to follow to make each character a certain height.) Also, I'd have thought the seekers (and Windblade) would have been taller than most of the other bots that have land-based alt-modes, like Bumblebee or Hot Rod. I guess not in this continuity.

Considering that the other bots that are the same height as Shadow Striker or taller are either SUVs, tanks, large trucks, dinosaurs, etc, while Shadow Striker is just a sports car is pretty interesting.

I also like to imagine that the only reason why Starscream is taller than the other seekers listed is because he made some sort of mod (maybe something that has to do to his rockets at his heel/foot?)

It's too bad that there doesn't seem to be anything with the rest of the s1 characters (Because I swear there were more Autobots first shown in background scenes during season one, but I could be wrong), and it really is too bad that we don't have anything for the season 2, 3, and the movie specials.

Still, I hope you all found this post as interesting as I did!

[siphoklansan]

“How curious…there’s a sketchbook on the ground. Well, it wouldn’t hurt to take a look, would it?”

As you flip through the pages you notice these things:

The artist goes by the name Siphok. A peculiar name, isn’t it? Don’t you just wonder what that means?

The artist only draws Twisted Wonderland, including her OCs that are in the fandom.

The artist draws comics, plain art, or does animatics.

The artist does not draw NSFW or gore, whatsoever.

Art requests are something the artist wishes to do, and she loves drawing for her followers and mutuals.

The artist reblogs a lot of Twisted Wonderland fics, do keep in mind to block tags mentioned below if you do not wish to see it. She”s quite lazy, so she tends to not switch to her spam account.

The artist is quite friendly, feel free to leave a note or two in the back of her sketch book. (askbox)

“There are sticky notes between the pages. How strange…”

❦siphok-reblogs❦ (for reblogs of art/fan-fiction)

✰siphok-moots✰ (her mutuals, they have a special place in her heart)

༄siphok-chatters༄ (she answers whatever question thrown her way)

☂︎︎siphok-museum☂︎︎ (for her art, specifically)

☞︎siphok-spams☜︎ (she spams quite a lot, but they don’t involve in anything else.)

➪siphok-ANNOUNCING➪ (for announcements)

“Having fun, are we?….You buffoon! She’s walking over here— you’ll get caught!”

As you hide in the bushes, you notice something about the artist.

She’s South East Asian, specifically from Thailand. English is not her first language, and the artist appreciates it greatly if you don’t judge her for her bad grammar.

The artist goes by she/her pronouns

The artist loves literature and reading, however, she does have a bad habit of buying news books despite not finishing previous ones. Crime and Punishment is one of her favorites, along with No Longer Human. (she did not finish Crime and Punishment, what a clown)

The artist loves history. You can leave notes about fun facts on history, and she’ll love it more if you share your homeland’s history, mythology, and culture. The artist’s is always open minded, and is excited to hear what you’ll leave in her sketchbook.

The artist is quite forgetful, hence why she forgot her sketchbook on the ground in the first place.

Her favorite characters are Leona Kingscholar, Riddle Rosehearts, and Jamil Viper. But she does love other characters dearly.

“The artist is…writing a letter? Squint your eyes; maybe you’ll see who she’s writing to.”

@ceruleancattail , the talented mage next door, ready to acquire all your magical needs

@shinmon-c , the prison guard of Milgrim prison, do be careful now

@twistedchatterbox , the water nymph of Octavinelle. you may want to watch your back; or she’d pull you into the depths of the ocean. but, it seems like you don’t mind, do you?

@oepionie , the love witch. are you interested in capturing one’s heart?

@fukashiin , what a lively soul. you can feel the warm rays of sunshine beaming onto your soul just by the look of that name

@azurevi , quite the talented author they are. they have left a deep impression that the artist will never forget

@taruruchi the artist’s new acquaintance, she is excited to interact more with them

@ryuuryuuhoney , the artist doesn’t know when their wedding will be held with Trey— excuse me, Tr*ey

@the-dumber-scaramouche , a new acquaintance whom the artist simps on Leona with

@hisui-dreamer , a talented author the artist have just be acquainted with. their works are quite lovely

@the-v-lociraptor , ah finally….someone who shares the same interests with the artist

“You idiot! You’re breathing too— loud…..”

You are caught red-handed by the artist. Perhaps some day you’ll get to see her OCs. What were their names again? Ah, yes…

Charin, the half-merman and Yaksha, and Anan..the fallen aristocrat

.

.

.

.

.

[restinpeacesensei]

I stepped into a room with clocks That all told different times I stepped into a mirrored world That mirrored all our crimes

You keep picking at the scab And I'll keep selling the plaster You keep telling me that I'm bad But I keep on getting better faster

I've lost, I've lost my innocence I've found my self-belief And in a cup of loneliness I've found instant relief

[seastarlily]

Art of SpongeBob and friends celebrating Kwanzaa. 

(Source)

[chi-ow-hua]

tw: intrusive thoughts, compulsion stuff (but like, mental health, not magic), ableism, mentions of drugs and addiction

Will, as most of the people who bother to unmask his easygoing persona will gladly tell you, is a bit of a control freak.

He doesn't actually know what drugs feel like. He knows Michael used to smoke weed with the Stolls sometimes. "Only way to deal with all these suicidal fuckheads" he'd grumble when Will glared at him in disapproval. But that was always away from the rest of camp and also not a very regular occurence. Will knows that because he started secretly going through Michael's dirty laundry after he caught him the first time, and Mike was always very bad at hiding the smell. (He managed to hold himself back from doing the same for the Stolls, though. He can justify it to himself if it's his own siblings; but elder teens from another cabin he barely talks to? That would just be deranged behavior.)

Will has never partaken in hard drugs or known someone who does. He has never experienced addiction, or met anyone suffering from one. Not as far as he knows, anyways. He can reluctantly admit that his paranoia regarding addiction probably borders on irrational. He knows a huge number of campers were not very happy at the abrupt decline of drugs and medication in the infirmary after the mantle of head medic got thrust upon him - including his own siblings, who know he would rather spend more energy than necessary on his healing than just sucking it up and prescribing some fucking advil.

But he looks at the neatly labeled opioids and over-the-counter drugs and all he can think about is schizophrenia and apoplexy and overdosing. Besides, Chiron seemed very happy with Will's new policy. "It will save us so much money" he'd muttered in utter delight, and Will realized he'd never thought much about how camp financed itself. He'd assumed the gods just... created money. Or something. But he should've figured that anything even resembling child support would have them hightailing in the opposite direction.

The drugs are locked away in a cabinet. Will used to have the only key. Upon severe complaints from his cabin and multiple attempted heists, he reluctantly gave Chiron the backup. He tries not to think about Austin's disappointment when he refused to give it to him. It had been a silent plea for trust, and Will is ashamed to say that he can't. Not when it comes to this.

Will knows that his siblings would never do anything. They are reliable and responsible and have endured too many lectures to ever be this stupid. He knows very well that they would never abuse of the cabinet, because he actively reminds himself of that fact every time he sees Kayla pale and trembling and with vomit stains on her camp shirt or Gracie so gaunt you can count every single one of her tiny ribs. Images that are not real and could never be real because they are all smart and responsible and reliable and would never abuse of the cabinet.

He still doesn't give them a key, though.

For all that will can't stop thinking about morphine and oxycodone and hydrocodone, he doesn't feel any desire to try them. The problem isn't him. It's the others. Because they hear the words but they don't know them. Not like Will does. They don't understand it, don't see the risks, don't feel the symptoms, don't see their siblings. Will knows better, and it is his duty as head medic to protect them. "i will give no deadly medicine to any one if asked, nor suggest any such counsel". Will tried to make the rest of his cabin learn the hippocratic oath too, but was severely outlaughed and outvoted. "You aren't even old enough to go to uni", as if that made a difference. Maybe Will isn't a doctor in the traditional sense, but he is the closest thing camp has.

Everyone can get caught up in an addiction, Will knows that all too well. Especially if you think that you are immune somehow, stronger than your own biology. No one is. Will knows that. Just as he knows that he will not become an addict because he knows better and has never once used the key always hanging around his neck. Another pearl, another year without an overdose. Maybe he is a control freak, maybe it would make things easier for everyone involved, maybe he knows that there must be something wrong with him, but maybe he is also saving his fellow campers lives. Maybe doing anything else would rob him his sleep, even more than it already does. "Its patronizing", Kayla said quietly. She is always loud, except when she is really angry. But maybe there is nothing wrong with his urge to protect. Why should she know better than him, anyways?!

The acetone and disinfectant are locked in a different cabinet. Everyone has a key for that one, because they are always in demand. "Why", tired and confused and annoyed and not actually expecting an answer. "There's a precedent" had been his non-answer, doing exactly as they'd known he would. Will can only use the disinfectant that is already in the dispenser. He threw his own key into the lake, one of the times he'd volunteered to care for their overnight patients on his own. (He knows he has the only key besides chiron, but it's better to be safe than sorry.) The patients were sleeping. The key had been on his necklace, tinkling along with the other, and then the bottle of desinfectant had been in his hand. He'd managed to put it back. Then he had run towards the shore before he could change his mind. He felt the splash in his bones, imagined it sinking into the depths of the lake. Hoped it stayed gone forever while simultaneously having to hold himself back from jumping in after it. Will couldn't become addicted, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

There was no reasonable way to lock away the soap in the bathroom. That was okay, though. He was used to staring, and most of the time he managed to wash the foam down the drain.

Will is in Nico's cabin, waiting for the other to return from the arena. He knows it's a privilege. Nico doesn't like his cabin. Nico really doesn't like people being in his cabin, especially without him. He keeps threatening to reform and redecorate, but always finds an excuse not to go through with it in the end. Will is starting to think that that is by design. It makes him a bit sad to think about. Of course Nico would also have his idiosyncrasies, being a child of the big three, but it's still painful. He wishes he could do something to make it better. Will still looks forward to their potential ikea trip whenever Nico mentions it.

Nico trusts Will. Or at least he hasn't invited anyone else to hang out in his cabin besides Reyna, Jason and his sister, which has to count for something. He stares at the pile of laundry - all black, except for one obnoxious yellow sweater he'd stolen from Will. Will hadn't asked for it back, even though it was soft and comforting and had been a gift to him from his mom. He'd always taken it off before performing any medical procedures - something he stopped bothering with for the rest of his clothes - meaning it was miraculously blood-free. He remembers being a bit surprised when Nico had clung onto this one, out of everything. Normally he tended towards the goriest ones. Said the stains were necessary in order not to clash with his aesthetic.

Nico prefers to keep to himself, values his personal space and his privacy. But Will looks and can't stop staring. Deranged, he remembers thinking. He'd barely been able to justify it when doing it to his brother. Doing it to anyone else would be-. Especially to Nico. Nico, who trusted him to stay alone in his cabin. Nico, who was one of the few campers to never ask for something to relieve the pain. Werewolf scratches were known to be particularly painful. Why had he never asked? (wouldn't he be doing him a favor? "into whatever houses i enter, i will go into them for the benefit of the sick")

Will, as most of the people who bother to unmask his easygoing persona will gladly tell you, is a bit of a control freak. He tries to tell himself that it isn't wrong. Tries to convince himself that it is, that there is nothing he could say or think that could justify it. Deranged. Will thinks he hears steps approaching and launches himself onto Nico's bed, where he'd been sitting before. The laundry pile - in even more disarray than before - glares disapprovingly. Only way to deal with it, he says. I'm doing it for nico, he begs to himself. Then why are you trying to hide it, his mind answers. Will tries to look away from the pile, but can't stop his eyes from glancing back.

"I'm gonna shower real quick, okay?" Nico, opening the door. "Have fun", Will answers, actively not looking at the laundry. And then, because he loves the nonsensical shot of adrenaline and superiority it gives him, "I see you found my sweater. You know, the one that mysteriously disappeared last week."

He holds his breath. Will doesn't know what he was expecting, but Nico doesn't deliver. Barely even glances at the pile. "I was literally wearing it yesterday, Solace. I know you know it. You were there." And then he rolls his eyes and disappears behind the bathroom door. And Will suppresses the urge to follow him inside and eat his soap.

[monstersandmaw]

It's not hyperfixation. It is just interest. Don't use language that doesn't apply to you

*big sigh*

[monsterkitties]

i see a robot, i like the robot. what else can i say. anyways this is of course android tau from T.A.U. the movie its on netflix but pirate it its real easy.

[avatardoggo]

when you meet a Guy and he is 99.9% perfection but the Holy Spirit says no

[junebugtwin]

It’s kinda funny isn’t it? That they call it the butterfly effect? Because- y’know, bugs?

a bit of an experimental little comic here- had a lot of fun making it! This is a scene from early on in Worm,  ‘ Insinuation 2.4 ‘. I always thought that Gladly turning away here was very influential to Taylors development into Skitter/Weaver- and really, ultimately Khepri. It’s a small moment, just another tiny betrayal in a sea of much larger more dramatic betrayals, but sometimes that’s the stuff that sticks with us.

At the end of Worm Lisa has a really great speech about how Taylor never really asks for help- she just forces people to help by putting them in situations where they can’t say no. It’s such a devastatingly accurate read of her character, and I just think it’s cool that you can really trace that attitude aalllll the way back here. Why ask for help when you know people will only walk away if it’s inconvenient for them- to Taylor it’s much easier to just skip the middle man and force them to do it.

I’ve seen some people say that they’re tired of seeing all the ‘bullying stuff’ harped on in fanfiction about Taylor, about how it’s boring and actually didn’t matter all that much to her- that she gets over it and doesn’t care about any of it after doing all that crazy shit with the Undersiders. I vehemently disagree- the harassment campaign against Taylor, and the inaction of the authority figures around it fundamentally alters her perception of the world in a way that can be felt in nearly every chapter. Thinking that Taylors ‘over it’ just because Taylor thinks she’s over it is somewhat naïve- Taylor is already known to be a somewhat unreliable narrator. 

Anyway sorry for babbling! The quotes I took are down here if you actually want to read them. :->

“What does she use to wash her face?  A Brillo pad?”

“She should!  She’d look better!”

“Never talks to anybody.  Maybe she knows she sounds like a retard and keeps her mouth shut.”

“No, she’s not that smart.”

No more than three feet behind Emma, I could see Mr. Gladly leaving his classroom.  The tirade didn’t stop as I watched him tuck a stack of folders under one arm, find his keys and lock the door.

“If I were her, I’d kill myself,” one of the girls announced.

Mr. Gladly turned to look me in the eyes.

“So glad we don’t have gym with her.  Can you imagine seeing her in the locker room?  Gag me with a spoon.”

I don’t know what expression I had on my face, but I know I didn’t look happy.  No less than five minutes ago, Mr. Gladly had been trying to convince me to go with him to the office and tell the principal about the bullying.  I watched him as he gave me a sad look, shifted the file folders to his free hand and then walked away.

I was stunned.  I just couldn’t wrap my head around how he could just ignore this.  When he had been trying to help me, had he just been covering his own ass, doing what was required of him in the face of a situation he couldn’t ignore?  Had he just given up on me?  After trying to help, in his own completely ineffective way, after I turned his offer for help down twice, he just decided I just wasn’t worth the effort?

[biologizeable]

I will come back to tumblr but ONLY if everyone can be cool about the fact that I don’t hate pandas anymore