ring organizer

  • thief: welcome to the thieves guild, rookie
  • new thief: i can't wait to learn the deep, hidden secrets of this city and find new ones of my own
  • thief: ahahahaha, yeah, sure
  • thief: okay so lesson one
  • thief: the self-checkout machine can't tell if you're lying about ringing up organic bananas as regular bananas

etsyfindoftheday 4 | 2.23.17

theme thursday: alternative engagement rings

tiny delicate diamond stack rings by maryjohn

these solid gold rings are adorned with varied organic shades of bezel-set diamonds ranging from grey to champagne, yellow to brown to a deep cognac. if you have a preference for your color combo you can choose your faves!

anonymous asked:

If it appeals to you at all, would you consider writing something for the fugitive phase? Like the highs and lows or something along those lines?

Day 1

“What are we going to do?” Scully asked once the rain had stopped.  Mulder had thought she was asleep.  He was barely clinging to consciousness himself, but still clinging to her.

“There’s a contingency plan,” he mumbled against her shoulder.  “The gunmen-”

“The gunmen are dead.”

“I know.  We worked it out before…everything.  I-we have IDs, passports, papers…money to disappear with.”

“We do?”

“There’s a safe deposit in San Francisco.  That’s what we’re going to do.”

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the signs and criminal activity

Based on information from the Federal Bureau of Investigations. With reference to how many crimes have been committed by each sign there is a list from most dangerous to least dangerous on a 1-12 scale. 1 is the most dangerous.

Crime role: Assassin, Hired criminal, Anarchist (violent)
Common crime: Head of the riot
Famous criminal(s): Eric Harris, Dylann Roof, Guy Fawkes, Kazuo Taoka, Adolf Hitler (cusp)
Danger number: 4

Crime role: Money launderer
Common crime: Jewelry theft
Famous criminal(s): HH Holmes, Jim Jones, Karla Homolka, Adolf Hitler (cusp), Lewis Powell, Bernie Madoff
Danger number: 2

Crime role: Fraudulent con artist
Common crime: Treason
Famous criminal(s): Jeffery Dahmer, David Berkowitz, Peter Sutcliffe, Richard Chase, El Chino
Danger number: Surprisingly 12 (maybe enough of you haven’t been caught)

Crime role: Passion killer, Kidnapper
Common crime: Kidnapping
Famous criminal(s): Lizzy Borden, Jodi Arias, Dzhokhar Tsarnaev, Jordan Belfort, Brutus
Danger number: 1

Crime role: Manipulator (gets others to commit the crime for them), Famed based criminal
Common crime: Bank fraud and unpaid credit card charges
Famous criminal(s): Elizabeth Bathory, Amy Fisher, Mata Hari, Myra Hindley
Danger number: 9

Crime role: Organizer of a criminal network
Common crime: Hacking and high-tech robbery
Famous criminal(s): Dylan Klebold, Jesse James, Ed Gein, Paul Bernardo, Frank Lucas
Danger number: 6

Crime role: Mass corrupter (hiding behind an organization)
Common crime: Ponzi scheme and identity Theft
Famous criminal(s): Bonnie Parker, Lee Harvey Oswald, Fred West, Richard III, Gilles de Rais
Danger number: 7

Crime role: Sadist, Contract killer (pulling strings behind the scenes)
Common crime: Stalking
Famous criminal(s): Vlad the Impaler, Charles Manson, Omar Mateen, David Parker Ray
Danger number: 9

Crime role: Prison-breaker, Robber
Common crime: Grand car theft and scams
Famous criminal(s): Ted Bundy, Billy the kid, Jared Fogle, Ed Kemper, Nero
Danger number: 3

Crime role: Ring leader
Common crime: Organized crime and embezzlement
Famous criminal(s): Al Capone, Ched Evans, Ian Brady, Frank James
Danger number: 5

Crime role: Hustler, Hacker
Common crime: Civil Disobedience
Famous criminal(s): Gary Ridgeway, Frank Costello, Frank Nitti, Pretty Boy Floyd
Danger number: 11

Crime role: Serial killer
Common crime: Substance abuse
Famous criminal(s): Anne Bonny, Richard Ramirez, Aileen Wournos, John Wayne Gacy, Osama bin Laden
Danger number: 10

Oh hai you guys, remember that time 7 months ago when Eleanor and Gigith hung out?

And then Eleanor was featured on the Tommy Hilfiger website for TommyxGigith?

Well Eleanor has customized a look for TommyxGigith’s new collection which will be featured in the runway show

The styles were then customized by influencers Naomi Davis (The Rockstar Diaries), Camille Charrière (Over the Rainbow) and Eleanor Calder (The Trend Pear) for the upcoming runway show.

anonymous asked:

How long until gamefreak releases the ultimate Pokemon game where you just start in kanto and take on every league from every continent at the age of 11 and take down either a planet level organized crime ring or get a reputation dropping crime rings to the point where by the time you hit sinnoh they just don't even bother with you.

absolutely never because doing level scaling and pacing for 7-8 leagues is goddamn impossible you’d have to take on the first league at mid 20′s to low 30′s and the final league would be mid 80s


Summary: Tim and Jason go undercover as a just-married couple celebrating their honeymoon in order to catch a high-profile drug lord. Hand-holding, kissing, secret rendezvous and bed sharing ahead.

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 15K 


“Will that be all, Mr. Drake-Wayne?”

Tim’s eyes snapped back to the pretty woman standing behind the concierge desk.

“Umm?” Tim blinked, catching the glare off the golden name tag pinned to her floral dress. He thought, vaguely, that it was almost the same shade as his wedding ring. “What?”

“She asked if we needed anything else, babe,” Jason said suddenly, leaning into the space between Tim’s neck and shoulder and planting a quick, chaste kiss. “Jetlag already?”

It was only a quick brush of skin against skin, hardly anything; and yet, Tim felt almost too big for his body, fighting a sudden urgency to sink into the depth of some unnameable feeling that pulsed hotly just beneath his skin.

The woman laughed and slid over two sleek hotel card keys, rattling off several free amenities, pool hours and how to book a couple’s massage at the spa.

“Thank you,” Jason said, somewhere next to Tim’s ear. When he reached from behind Tim to grab the card keys off the polished marble, his chest pressed against Tim’s back in a wall of sudden warmth. Jason was a wall of sunlight against Tim’s back, and he smelt better than any person had a right to after flying so many hours on a stuffy plane.

When Tim didn’t move quickly enough, Jason brushed Tim’s hand away from his suitcase. “Come on,” he said, pulling it behind with his own as he moved away from the concierge desk.

The unexpected gesture caught Tim off guard, but Jason looked calm and unconcerned as they dodged a sea of incoming tourists all donning different versions of the same floral shirts and sundresses. The resort was both stunningly beautiful and modern, a place that looked as if it were made for granting wishes for nothing more than a quick slide of a plastic.

As they waited for the elevators to ping to the lobby floor, Tim tried to process the madness of the past four days.

The case.

The feel of Jason standing so close next to him.

It was only another moment before the doors opened, and they moved to stand in the center of the empty elevator. Jason winked at the attendant and wrapped a strong arm around Tim’s waist.

“Honeymoon suite,” Jason said.

His grip made Tim’s adrenaline spike, and if his voice was the sound of a motorcycle’s engine revving as the doors shut, his touch felt like racing through sloping hills in the middle of the night with the lights off, the pavement rushing up to meet the raw burn of tire.

The attendant gave a tired smile, but paid them no special interest nor sympathy for Tim’s personal crisis. He probably heard nothing but excited, trivial chatter from couples and families visiting the resort from all over the world.

It should not have been so difficult for Tim to slip into his character for this mission, but he found himself feeling awkward and unsure standing next to his partner. The dreamlike daze he’d been stuck in all morning was quickly fading away, leaving him restless and distracted. The gentle flux of the elevator did little to ease his nerves.

“Well, look,” Jason said into Tim’s ear, his lips almost brushing against his skin. “Isn’t that interesting?”

Tim stiffened, but turned his head to stare out the elevator’s back wall, which was made of strong plexiglass. He watched their target guide two men through the white, marble lobby below. They were well-dressed in expensive suits that stood out in the sea of Hawaiian florals, and each carried two leather duffel bags.

Mr. Javier Bello, The Shark.

He was the owner of the resort property they were currently staying and leader of an organized crime ring importing drugs into Gotham. Dick had been tracking him for the last six months, building a case backwards from Bludhaven and tracing crates back to this hotel. Red Hood worked in tandem, terrorizing the docks and blowing up every unreported shipment until one of Enrico Inzerillo’s men confirmed the connection.

And then Dick got caught up in something bigger than this with Damian, and despite the months of prep work and planning, Tim found himself thrown into the middle of the case, playing catch up and house with Jason, of all people.

Bello and his men disappeared from view, and Tim was left to ponder the negative space between his body and Jason’s, who hadn’t moved away after bending down to whisper into his ear.

Intimacy wasn’t a foreign concept to Tim, despite his track record. Affected intimacy was even less-so, as he’d played dozens of roles while on the job, including a hopelessly clueless boyfriend to an overzealous honeypot. It was something he’d trained for, something they’d all been exposed to at one time or another while working for Bruce.

But Tim had never had to work with someone he liked.

When the elevator dinged at their floor, the attendant offered to help with their luggage. Jason responded with a few words in Spanish, too quick and low for Tim to decipher the meaning. Whatever he’d said had made the older man laugh, his tired gaze sliding from beneath wrinkled eyelids to study Tim.

Jason was charming, but Tim had already known that. All of Bruce’s wardens knew how to turn it on and off; it was a practiced skill, like most things in their line of work. But Jason wore it almost too well, like a perfectly tailored suit or an expensive haircut. His playfulness went deeper, felt more natural, and Tim remembered why he’d never gotten into bed with Jason on something like this before.

It was too dangerous, how desperately Tim wanted all of it to be real. Wanted all of Jason’s warmth and his bitterness, his rage and his humor — even the slanted edge of his wolfish smile — all for himself.

When he pushed open the hotel door that led to their suite, Jason whistled. “Remind me to get hitched more often.”

A large, white bed sat at the center of the room, and Tim’s eyes skated past it with a sense of impending dread. Shiny wooden floors gave way to three floor-to-ceiling panes of glass leading out to a balcony that overlooked a small stretch of beach and miles of blue-green ocean.

A spacious, open bathroom rested to the right of the bed, separated by bamboo slats that made the room feel larger. Behind the divider was a porcelain bathtub, large enough to easily fit two people, and behind that, a small tiled shower. An unopened bottle of champagne chilled in a wooden bucket near the tub, two empty glasses waiting for them to toast to their eternal happiness.

Tim ignored it all.

Denial, at least, was something that he was infinitely good at practicing.

When he re-entered the main room, Jason was running his fingers through a line of red and pink rose petals that the hotel staff had arranged into a heart on their bed. The sight of such a cliched welcoming made Tim want to run and take the next flight out back to Gotham. But the way Jason pinched a soft, red petal between his fingers stirred every midnight thought that Tim had locked in the back of his mind, a warning breeze slipping between guilty pleasures that refused to wilt.

When Jason realized Tim was standing behind him, he lifted his head and grinned. “I think they want us to have sex,” he said, throwing a handful of flower petals at Tim’s head.

“Just check for bugs,” Tim ordered, hastily brushing the petals from where they had settled in his hair. He made a beeline for the balcony, and the sound of Jason’s warm laughter followed.

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A fool. Dazai Osamu is a fool and that is all Verne can think, his fingers digging tight into the hard lines of the phone while he makes his way down the dimming streets of Yokohama. The sky, it seems, is inhaling every last morsel of light the fleeting sun has to offer, and cold is creeping around the corner. Wrapping around his hands. Tightening around his throat. Stop this.

“Four organizations.” he spits at the man before him, whose brown hair is ruffled and uncombed and lackluster. The man whose eyes are seething and ringed with black.

Four organizations spanning across three countries.” He’s going hysterical, that’s what, his calm demeanor, which was so carefully crafted –oh how proud he was of it!– is fucking falling apart and there isn’t a single thing that can pull it back together. “Are you insane, Osamu? Do you not remember what the Great War brought us?”

No response. None at all.

“Stop this.” he commands.

Stop this.” he says.

Stop this.” he pleads.

But the man before him remains quiet. Still. His gaping eyes track the orange sunset falling into sheets and sheets of purple-black dust. The silence takes hold, it speaks. No. Osamu’s tan coat swishes, the tips of his hair glow the color of rust. He grows smaller and smaller as he walks away, footsteps echoing like droplets splashing on the bottom of a half-empty well. No.