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#quicksand
tendernxss · 5 months
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quicksand // the story so far
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lizardsfromspace · 1 year
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The world was simpler when I was a kid. I knew exactly what to fear: quicksand and the Bermuda Triangle
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stoicmike · 4 months
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Any philosophy that begins with the assumption that humans are rational creatures is built on quicksand. -- Michael Lipsey
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laladventures · 1 month
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Two half pints please... 🍻
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itsapmseymour · 1 year
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‘Quicksand….suppress them…”
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random-jot · 4 months
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to be honest
moths eating my clothes hasn’t been as big a problem for me as I was led to believe growing up
chuck that one in with quicksand and acid rain
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luckylewd · 5 months
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This hapless little damsel happens to find herself wading through the stickiest spot of a dreaded swamp. Is she on a quest that's gone wrong? Or maybe trying an ill-advised shortcut? Whatever the case may be, she's looking a little too vulnerable to be risking a trek through tentacle infested mire. One wrong step and she'll be at the complete mercy of the lustful tendrils~...
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typefacetournament · 5 months
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ROUND 1 - BLUE GROUP
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Propaganda under the cut.
Quicksand: "it's just so perfectly shaped <3"
Perpetua: "It's the font used on the cover of All Hail West Texas by the Mountain Goats, the greatest album of all time"
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quinloki · 1 year
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Quicksand
Fem Reader x Sir Crocodile
20 Chapters - 46,838 words
Version with images can be found here.
CW: Language, violence, blood, moral ambiguity, murder, sexual themes and situations, yandere, angst with a happy ending, a referenced instance of physical abuse. 18+ only
Summary: You're employed as an Internal Coordinator in the West Branch of Rain Dinners in Grandline Metro. You're well-aware your boss is the Warlord Sir Crocodile, but your sixty days is almost up on the popular dating website Cult of Personality, and you're looking forward to meeting the person you've been talking to for the last sixty days. (This makes it sound way fluffier than it is, oops.)
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Chapter 1: The Nitty-Gritty
You smile at the sound of the message popping up on your computer. You'd been chatting online with someone for the last couple months, and after getting to know one another through your shared likes and dislikes, you'd finally decided to meet. You've avoided sharing photos, or even having a conversation on the phone, but all of that had been the point of the website you'd both found yourselves using.
Cult of Personality was a quirky singles site that focused on people getting to know one another purely through interests. The idea behind it was that you could get to know someone without those pesky instincts getting in the way – no getting swept away by someone's voice, or getting too focused on their appearance (for better or worse). Instead, you spent at least sixty days communicating by text through anonymous proxies. If anyone said something that was a deal-breaker during that time, then there were no messy fallouts to deal with.
The connection would be severed without you knowing enough about the other to be able to locate them. The system was even designed to automatically censor location names, so people couldn't accidentally give themselves away. The only thing the service did with location information was use it to randomly match people who were within 100km of one another.
It was great for people who didn't really want to fill out tons of questionaries, or worry about uploading photos, or dealing with talking about themselves. 
For you it was nice because after a few failed relationships, and with a job that took a lot of your time, it was an easy way to get yourself back into the whole idea of dating.
As your luck would have it, you found someone who you enjoyed "talking" to after only a couple tries. You had even admitted that you looked forward to your conversations and had been pleasantly surprised to find out he did as well. It was reassuring to know that things weren't one-sided, and shortly after that you'd both started making plans to meet up once the 60 days was completed, and the site gave you the option to lift the automatic censoring.
You had preemptively decided on a Saturday lunch meeting, just in case you were at the edges of the 100km diameter that the site utilized. Better than trying to make a dinner reservation on a Friday after work, and ending up in a panic if one of you were to be stuck in traffic.
The restrictions lifted tomorrow, Wednesday, and as you got ready for work you were humming to yourself.
In Grandline Metropolis, amidst it's 600,000 sq km of land, you worked for one of the seven Warlords who oversaw the second circle of the city. While you knew Mr. Crocodile was a warlord, you weren't directly connected to the city's underground. You knew about the city's underground because you were school friends with people who had ended up in that life, and you still kept in touch. But, like most of the employees of the Rain Dinners – the casino/restaurant/hotel chain with five locations around the Grandline Metro – you weren't a part of the underground directly. There were people closer to Mr. Crocodile who probably had ties to stuff like that, but you were just the secretary to one of the mid-level casino floor managers of the West location, just outside White Beard's territory.
Buggy was, well, buggy. He seemed to be constantly under a lot of stress, but he wasn't a terrible boss. He had a decent sense of humor, was easily brought into focus, and often went out of his way to make sure the people under him were doing well. He was a bit selfish, but whenever someone needed to be legitimately let go, you always had to come to him with well-documented, irrefutable proof. While that could be annoying in some cases, it was also reassuring that he wasn't letting people come and go without being sure there was nothing else to be done for it.
"Hey boss, I won't be available this weekend." You explain, handing over another paper for Buggy to review. "So if something goes wrong you'll have to call Alvida."
"Are we expecting anything unusual this weekend?" He questions calmly.
"No, there's no big events, and Alvida's already aware I'll be unavailable." You're kind of surprised to see Buggy this calm. Usually, he was a complete mess when you took vacations or called out sick.
"Alright, (Y/N), just make sure to let Alvida know that Galdino's going to be the one reaching out. I'm off this weekend as well."
Ah, that explains why he's so relaxed. You muse. After a moment's thought you flinch. You hadn't exchanged names with the person you were meeting this weekend. Statistically, it was improbable that it was Buggy, but it wasn't impossible either. Well, if it was him, you couldn't let your professional assessment of him color how he was in his private life.
"I'll let her know." You assure him flatly, taking back the last of the documents and reorganizing them quickly on his desk. "Your meetings are light today, and tomorrow you have the Staff Luncheon to attend."
Buggy flinches. "Right."
"It's at our branch this month, Buggy."
Your boss sighs. "That's the problem."
You laugh. "It is harder to 'accidentally' miss it due to traffic when it's here."
"You're being a little too flashy, Miss (Y/N)." He grumbles.
"And yet you still appreciate me." You quip, giving him a smile before walking out to get back to your own work.
The rest of your work day went smoothly. You coordinated with Galdino and Alvida about the weekend, making sure they knew that neither you nor Buggy would be available. Alvida had raised an eyebrow over it, since she knew you'd been signed up on Cult of Personality. You had filled her in on your plans for the weekend before now. You were still pretty sure it wasn't Buggy, but she made you promise her that if it turned out to be him you would let her know immediately.
Alvida had her quirks, and she could kind of mean in that haughty beauty sort of way, but she wasn't malicious or cruel. You'd shared a few drinks outside of work, and mainly she just enjoyed drama and gossip.
Getting home you went through your after-work routine. Peeling off your work clothes you slipped into sweats and a t-shirt, made yourself something easy, and relaxed with an episode of your favorite show while you ate. Afterward you checked your messages and settled into the dating website.
You: One more day \o/
Him: I'm glad your enthusiasm hasn't waned.
You: At this rate I'm worried I'll be exhausted come Saturday. I'm really looking forward to this.
Him: Plans can be easily adjusted if need be.
You: Joking aside, I'm sure I'll manage. Though, I have to admit that today has caused me to be very curious about something. >_>
Him: Oh?
You: Well, it seems my boss at work has requested this weekend off as well. O_O
Him: Ah-ha. Did you request your time off today?
You: I did.
Him: Then I wouldn't worry. I didn't have any of my employees request time off to me directly today.
You: Oh good.
Him: My condolences to your boss.
You: lol he's not a bad guy, but that would've been incredibly awkward.
Him: It would've been a mark against you wanting to meet someone new, as well.
You: You're not wrong.
You: Admittedly, I wouldn't hold it against you if we did know one another.
Him: That's reassuring. Though, if I do know you, then I have done myself a great disservice for not knowing you well enough until now.
You feel yourself blush despite it all. It was nice to be appreciated for your, well, you-ness, and not for anything else. You let him know you appreciated the sentiment and the two of you talked about nothing and everything off and on for the rest of the evening.
Tomorrow was going to be the longest Wednesday to ever dare to exist, not just because you were looking forward to getting home before you'd even left for work, but also because the monthly staff luncheons always made the days feel longer when they were at your branch. It wasn't nearly as bad when Buggy was ushered out and into a different branch for the event, but every 5th month it meant your casino was filled with important people.
Important people like to feel important, so there were all sorts of extra protocols and fine moving parts to worry about. The hardest part was going to be dealing with the Billions. The people who were only just barely important and wanted to make sure no one could possibly forget it. The Baroque Works staff would be there as well, and if things went well, after the initial meet and greet, all you would have to worry about was filling Buggy's shoes while he was busy at the Luncheon.
. . . . .
You: Good morning, I can't stay on and talk much right now, there's an event at work I need to be in early for. Looking forward to talking to you tonight!
Him: Much anticipated.
The drive into work was faster than usual since you had left a couple hours earlier and traffic was nonexistent. You got into work and got all your normal morning work done before the doors had even opened. Alvida and Galdino were in almost as early and you set them to work organizing the cleaners and preppers. Surfaces that had been polished the night before were polished again just to add a little more luster.
There were three times as many valets available today, to deal with the influx of VIPs, and almost every member of staff was working. People were rotated in and out on tables more often as well to keep every extra sharp. Extra areas had been opened in the back to accommodate people being able to lounge between there active table times so they could recharge properly. It was an untenable schedule every single day, but everyone came together to make it work for the Luncheons.
When the owner, Mr. Crocodile arrived, everyone lined up to greet him. It was the only time all the staff stopped what they were doing to greet a guest. Nothing was said, but everyone lined up neatly in the lobby and bowed slightly as he entered. As far as you knew it wasn't even something he had requested, one of the Numbers had demanded it at their branch some years ago and the tradition stuck.
Frankly, if you ever learned who Mr. Nine was, you would happily punch the lout right in his nose for suggesting it. Fortunately, Mr. Crocodile didn't linger in the entry way, and strode quickly through. Considering he was just over 7', he had an impressive stride. Aside from the company photo, and the occasional glance in the hall when the luncheons were held at your branch, all you ever saw of him were his shoes.
When you first started working at Rain Dinners you'd had a little crush on him, but from the way things went for most of the staff, everyone had a little crush on him. He was the least eccentric of the Warlords, far as you were aware, and the man had style. Most of the ladies swooned over him and half the of the men on staff did as well.
He wasn't much older than you either. Far from the youngest of the Warlords, he was just over 30 and doing remarkably well for himself. He was barely of legal gambling age when he started the first Rain Dinners, and within three years there were 5 of them in the Grandline Metro alone.
With the owner gone, everyone burst into action and the several moments later the casino came alive as the doors opened to the public and the day began properly.
Only eight more hours to go before you could start making proper plans for the coming weekend.
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whereifindsanity · 1 month
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oldshowbiz · 5 months
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The Santa Monica Pier and other vintage street scenes as featured in Quicksand (1950).
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comicbookcovers · 10 months
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Airboy #9, October 1947
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whumpypepsigal · 1 year
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65 (2023): Mills falls into quicksand and yells for Koa. As he sinks into the quicksand, Koa finds him and rescues him.
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ruddykite · 7 months
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A non exhaustive list of things I expected to be common occurrences as a child which are not actually everyday issues:
Being consumed by quicksand
Having your nice things stolen by magpies
Hay barn fire explosion
Being consumed by grain in a grain silo
Rabies (I live in the UK)
Tsunamis (I still live in the UK)
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soapkaars · 1 month
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Bit of a bad photo of the last drawing of the evening: I bought a few acrylic inks (prussian blue, quinacridone magenta, gold) last weekend, and I wanted to test them out before I go on holiday, so here’s a page from my sketchbook.
Left: a caricature of a colleague of mine together with Peter Lorre in a Leger-inspired style
Right: testing out acrylic inks, and then working on the result with indian ink and those fun acrylic pens to improvise an abstract 50s style film poster (I used the 1950 film Quicksand with Peter Lorre as a shady arcade owner as inspiration)
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