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buckysdolls · 3 years

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You’re cute when you...

AN- I’m still going to ask for requests on every oneshot I post lol!

Please feel free to blow up my requests/messages!

message me if you want to chat! I’d love to get to know you all! Over 18's tho!!

Ask to join my tag list. Thanks to @buckybarnes101 for being my first! <3

One Shot- Bucky x Reader

Summary- Bucky adores you, he tries to show this in subtle ways but you brush it off not wanting to think more into it even though you’re crushing on him too. He also loves to be that one annoying person who you can’t help but laugh with so he figures it’s time to step it up a notch to really show you how much he likes you.

Warnings- Bucky being a cute annoying and loving and fluffy!

You flopped onto the sofa located in the common room of The Avengers compound, with a book in hand ready to settle down for the evening. You were wearing a bralette, an oversized unzipped hoodie and shorts that wrapped around the top half of your thighs, it was comfortable to chill in knowing not many people would be roaming the compound. It was the weekend meaning it was awfully quiet, it reminded you of when you were at University, the weekends were always peaceful as people left campus for the weekend to go home. The compound felt a little like that. Many of the workers and even some of the Avengers would go home if the compound wasn’t their permanent residence. For you… it was. Fury advised you in joining the Avengers, your expertise in handling weapons and guns was valuable to them, so when Bucky arrived… in a somewhat stable state you made the perfect pair, adding Sam to the mix was a bonus. You enjoyed listening to the two of them rip into each other. Although it usually ended in you butting their heads together when it was time to focus in order to make the dream teamwork.

You shot Bucky a quick smile as he strolled into the common room, he returned the smile but you returned your interest to the book. Though trying to read the book was tough, you had noticed he was wearing his red Henley, that hugged his muscles and showed off his pecs, man you were a sucker for his muscles. You knew better than to swoon over him though, you were adamant Bucky saw you as just a friend and though you maybe did fancy him the tiniest bit you’d learnt to push those feeling aside. Not many people knew Bucky the way you did, spending copious amounts of time with him you knew him inside out, probably not as much as Steve, but you were a close second.

Bucky enjoyed your company, he had done for a while now and developed feelings for you that he struggled to word, he knew he had a better chance of showing that he was crazy for you rather than telling you. He always tried to show you by always holding you in places of affection, but you never seemed to notice. You peered up from your book as Bucky took a seat next to you, his left arm settled on the back of the sofa.

“What book you reading?” He leant into you to catch a glimpse at the words on the page, you flipped over the cover to show him the front page.

“The Duke and I?” Bucky scrunched up his face as he realised it was one of those romantic, sexy books you like to read.

“Don’t judge me!” You scowled jokingly as you both smiled. He raised his arm in defence before scooting closer to you. Him shifting next to you made it even harder to concentrate on the words in the book. You could smell the freshness of his body wash, and the coconut scent of his shampoo dangling on the ends of his hair. You took a side glance realising he was looking at you… minutes passed, and he was still staring at you. You huffed, dramatically closing your book, and looking across to meet Bucky’s eyes, he was staring intently.

“Bucky! Stop staring.”

“We’re having a staring contest.”

“I wasn’t staring at you… so we’re not having a staring contest” You pointed out squinting your eyes trying to understand what was going on his brain yet letting the corner of your lips turn upwards.

“But you’re staring now. So now we’re having a staring contest”

“That’s not how it works Bucky!” You huffed realising this was pointless and returning to your book.

“Ha! You blinked!”

“I wasn’t playing!” You sang unfazed by Bucky’s attempt to annoy you and keeping your eyes locked on the book.

“Then why were you looking at me?

“Because you looked at me first!”

“You’re cute when you’re mad” Bucky’s put his face in front of your book, leaning over you, he chuckled as you lifted your book up to your view. He always called you cute, you’d just assume he said it to every woman he’d met. His head relaxed on your lap as he adjusted his position, laying out on the sofa, his arms crossed over his chest. Did he want your attention or something? He began to pop his lips every other second, he then glanced up at you as you felt his head shift sideways, his lips were pursed realising you were still reading.

“You’re cute when you read”

You closed your book again settling it on his chest, your hand on top of the book. He smirked and his blue eyes gleamed almost looking like puppy dogs as he was happy you were paying him attention.

“You never notice when I call you cute Y/N”

“I do, I chose to ignore it cause it doesn’t mean anything. I assume you call everyone cute”

“You think I go around calling Sam cute huh? You know I only call you cute!” Bucky ran his finger through his hair still looking up at you. He always found a way to make you laugh even when he knew he was irritating you.

“You’re cute when you laugh” Bucky was more serious this time, his eyes looked deeper in yours searching as he reached out his arm to rest his hand on the side of your neck, you hair in between his fingers, and his thumb laid on the edge of your cheek. Your breath stuck in your throat as his touch sent an explosive sparkle through your body. You were used to Bucky touching you, he was always handsy with you, around your waist, lower back, shoulders, you just never questioned it assuming he was looking out for you.

“I wish I’d done this sooner” Bucky motioned his thumb in smooth strokes across your cheek.

“What’s that?” You whispered finding your words yet still feeling flustered in the moment.

“Kiss you. It’s been on my mind for a while now” Bucky mumbled before tenderly pulling your head down guiding it to his, he stopped when your noses were barely inches apart.

“Are you fucking with me right now?” You suddenly felt embarrassed wondering if Bucky was doing this to carry on annoying you, you thought you knew almost everything about Bucky, you were sure he was too busy enjoying running missions to even think about having a personal life.

“I know I can be annoying, but I ain’t a dick. I’ve felt this way for a while” Bucky pressed his lips to yours closing that inch gap. His lips were sweet, and his beard tickled your skin as your mouth moved in sync. He moved up from your lap slowly making sure not to break the kiss, his hands settled on your hips gripping them as he guided you onto his lap, so you were straddling him. Your hands were flatly pressed against his chest and his hands moved to your bum squeezing as he rubbed against you.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Curiosity got the better of you pulling away and instantly regretting it as you worried you’d killed the mood. Bucky still held you smirking.

“Had to make sure… I didn’t think I’d fall for someone again after what I’d been through. An no matter what I told you, the gory details, or the fear I put in people you weren’t scared… I could see it in your eyes.”

“I wanted to make you feel part of the team and appreciated. It the least I could do after what you’ve been through. Anyway, I’m too fierce to fear you.” You prodded his chest joking with him.

“Oh yeah?” Bucky questioned, raising his eyebrows, and coking his head as if he’d been challenged. You nodded biting your lip, he suddenly flipped you over laying you on the sofa with your hands tightly held about your head as he straddled you, his face again inches form yours. You watched him as he allowed his eyes to make their way down your body, he breathed deeply clearly enjoying looking at your body.

“You have a cute body” He commented interlocking your hands and brining you up into him, smiling as he brushed his nose against yours.

Tag list: @buckybarnes101

#bucky imagine #bucky barnes #bucky #bucky fluff #bucky x reader #bucky barnes imagine #sebastian stan #bucky barnes fan fiction #bucky barnes fanfic #the avengers #the winter soldier #marvel #marvel universe #bucky Barnes fan account #bucky barnes x you

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liftybabytiger · 3 years

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going out lifting today and just thought i’d share some tips, just in case someone can find any of it to be useful! <3

i always dress up slightly more than i normally would. nothing too fancy as i don’t want to stand out too much, but definitely not wearing sweatpants or leggings. and dress weather appropriate!!! just use your intuition

i put on natural makeup just to look presentable. if i’m lifting from a makeup store, i’ll do a little extra to make it look like i do makeup often and intend on buying it

if it’s a store location i’ve never been to before, i’ll google the location and look at the photos of the interior. most businesses have these, and most will show the ceilings enough to where you can see the cameras, so i can figure out how risky it is and where blind spots will be

also on google, it will tell you how busy the store is at each hour of the day, this is a good way to ensure you go when it’s busier

most of the time i bring a ~medium~ sized purse. if a purse is too big i feel like it looks too obvious that i’m planning to lift. i also make sure my bag matches my outfit well. this probably isn’t necessary but i just think it makes me look more put together and inconspicuous lol

i always just smile at the workers when i walk in, nothing more. talking to them isn’t necessary in my opinion, unless of course they say something to you besides “hi” or “welcome”. just talk to them normally. they should have no reason to suspect you the moment you walk inside.

if i’m getting CS’d a lot, i will automatically assume someone is onto me. in which case i will put a few items back and buy the rest, or just put everything back and leave. always better to leave with nothing than to get caught

i think this is an obvious one, but i’ll say it anyways. don’t immediately go towards the item(s) you’re planning on lifting. browse around the store, pick things up, decide against them. i like to make it appear that i’m “just looking”. i also try to have a product in mind that i know the store doesn’t carry, so I can ask an SA about it. i think that makes it look less suspicious when i leave the store “empty handed” ;)

i usually wait a month to go back to any store i lifted from, but that’s being on the safe side. i wouldn’t go back any sooner than 2 weeks tho. if i go back sooner than a month, i try to make myself look very different from how i looked the last time i was there. i’m pretty good at remembering what i wore last time, but if you’re not, take a picture of yourself and put it in your notes app with the date and what store you went to

that’s everything my little brain can think of right now, i hope this was helpful to someone or at least gave you a little refresher. i’m heading out now, so wish me luck! happy lifting <3

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ask-rwby-multishipper · 4 years

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“suggestion: dare some/all of them to have a fight, weapons n all. the two who lose have to go on a date - and plan it on the spot >:3” - from @pastel-candies

Ruby, Ember Celica on her arms: Okay gang, uhh...let’s do some sparring!

Yang, Myrtenaster propped on her shoulder: Careful with those, sis.

Ruby: I won’t damage them, I promise!

Yang: I’m more worried about them damaging you.

Weiss: Speak for yourself, I’m fearing for Myrtenaster’s life seeing it in your hands, Yang.

Yang, chuckling: It’s so light! No wonder you don’t have any upper body strength.

Weiss: I’d argue with you if you weren’t right...uhh, you doing alright, Velvet?

Velvet, struggling to lift Crescent Rose off the ground: Just peachy...Ruby, how do you even carry this thing around?

Nora: You’ve never seen Ruby’s arms, have you, Velvet?

Ruby: It’s actually more core strength than anything. *chuckles*

Velvet, blushing: Right. Core strength. *tries to lift the scythe* I guess I need to do more crunches.

Coco: Then we should go to the gym together more often.

Ruby: Yeah, I could come, too!

Velvet: I would like that.

Weiss: Could...I come???

Yang: This is a lot of flirting for a bunch of people about to fight one another.

Weiss: I’m not flirting!

Velvet, still struggling to lift Crescent Rose: For Grimm’s sake...

Coco: Wanna trade?

Velvet: Maybe. What weapon do you have?

Coco, holding up a wristwatch: Ciel’s. I think?

Velvet: That’s a weapon? What’s it do?

Ciel, rubbing the back of her neck: It’s a secret.

Yang, elbowing her: Trying to get an advantage at the Vytal Tournament, huh Ciel?

Ciel: N-No! I mean...maybe.

Velvet, putting the watch on her wrist: At least it’s cute. And light.

Coco, lifting Crescent Rose with ease: Oh fuck yes, I’ve always wanted to give this baby a spin.

Ruby: Just be gentle with her!

Yang: Alright, ladies and enbies, who’s ready to fight?!

Everyone: *uncertain cheering*

Yang: Good enough, let’s go!

Later, at the Beacon training arena...

Emerald, armed with Gambol Shroud: This is so fucking cool! *leaps in the air and slashes at Nora*

Nora, waving around Neo’s parasol wildly: How is this even a weapon? *gets knocked back by Emerald* Gah!

Neo, in the stands with the others: Should I have told her about the hidden blade?

Cinder: I don’t think that would have made a difference.

Penny, blowing an air horn: *WEEERRRRN*

Nora: Huh?

Penny, wearing a zebra-striped referee shirt over her dress: Nora’s Aura has reached a critically low level. I declare Emerald the winner of this bout.

Emerald: Yes!

Nora: Hey, I could have kept going!

Penny: I am sorry, Nora, but you failed to land even a single blow on Emerald.

Nora: I came close, though, right?

Penny, thinking about it: In a way, yes. However, Emerald took no damage.

Emerald: Haha! I am the reigning champion! Who shall challenge me next?

Nora: Who made Penny the referee, anyway?

Penny: I cannot trade my weapons with anyone since they are attached to me, so I figured it would only be fair to officiate. Plus, I can monitor everyone’s Aura simultaneously, so I am very well suited to the position.

Nora: Well that answers that. *sulks away* Stupid fancy umbrella.

Neo, standing and signing at her meticulously: Parasol. Par-a-sol.

Nora: I know, I know!

Penny: Who is next to spar with Emerald?

Everyone: ...

Emerald: My self esteem has never been this high, holy shit...

Blake: I’ll go. *stands up with Pyrrha’s spear and shield in hand*

Penny: Ohh, to face off against the wielder of their own weapon, very interesting!

Emerald: You think you can challenge me, Belladonna?

Blake, stepping down into the arena: I think so. I know that weapon better than you do, after all.

Penny: Fighters ready?

Emerald: Oh yeah.

Blake: *nods*

Penny: Fight!

Emerald: *charges at Blake with both blades*

Blake: *snags the ribbon of Gambol Shroud with their spear, ripping both blades from Emerald’s hands, leaving her unarmed*

Emerald, standing and staring at her empty hands: Oh.

Blake, smirking as they wrapped the ribbon around their own wrist: You’re simply not experienced enough weilding a tethered weapon, at least not something as precise and delicate as mine.

Emerald: Uhh, okay, hand-to-hand, let’s go!

Blake: I beat you already, tho.

Emerald: But my championship title!

Blake: This isn’t boxing.

Emerald: But...I must defend my hon—wha! *gets tripped by Blake’s ribbon and falls down*

Blake, smirking down at her: Admit defeat.

Emerald: Never!

Blake: Then get up and fight!

Emerald: I’m too busy enjoying the view. *wink*

Blake: Oh gods. *rolls their eyes and drops Pyrrha’s shield onto her chest*

Emerald: Wait! *is squished* Agh!

Yang, watching on: Gods I wish that were me.

Everyone else: We know.

Penny: I suppose this means since Emerald and Nora were the last to lose, they must now plan a date?

Emerald: Nice... *shoves the shield off her body, then lies on the ground lazily* Spa day. Let’s go to the spa, huh Nora?

Nora: Sounds cool, let’s do it.

Emerald: Nice.

Blake: Wait, so what do I get for winning?

Weiss: You get to help me fix the damage Yang did to Myrtenaster.

Yang: C’mon, It’s just a tiny chip.

Weiss: Tiny? The blade weight is all off now!

Yang: By a gram maybe.

Weiss: More like at least two grams! It feels like holding a tree branch, it’s so unbalanced!

Yang: You’re so dramatic.

Weiss: Is it dramatic to consider that the damage done to my weapon could one day cost me a fight? That the very lives of my friends could rely on my weapon being in perfect condition, with all the world hanging in the balance?

Yang: Yes, that’s very dramatic.

Weiss: Then FUCK YES, I’M DRAMATIC!

Nora: Geez, I think Weiss needs a spa day more than I do.

Weiss, timidly: Yes please...

#rwby #rwby truth or dare #ruby rose #weiss schnee #yang xiao long #blake belladonna #emerald sustrai #nora valkyrie #neopolitan #cinder fall #penny polendina #coco adel #velvet scarlatina #lightning thief #green lightning #bumbleby #freezerburn #submission

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boognish-worshipper · 3 years

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Midnight City AU

i’ve been having fun writing this story, all these lil snippets n pieces comin together n shit,,, but i also find myself getting so frustrated writing sometimes even tho ik that’s a given with literally creating anything 😭 anyway uhhhh scheming shit ensues in this chapter, and we see another familiar pal pop up 🙏 also included obligatory reference to those aesthetic photos with song lyrics 🏃‍♀️💥

//Chapter 2: Oblivion

The vinyl store was a short walk from Sterling Lake, but Ron and Trevor decided to run there like idiots. Trevor was out of breath by the time they got there placing his hands on his knees, while Ron looked ready to keel over and pass out, pressing a hand against the front of the store.

“Remind me why we chose to run here?”

“So we could,” Ron wheezed out a breath, inhaling deep to stable himself.

“So we could hurry up and get Wade.”

“It was a rhetorical question.”

“Right. Sorry Trevor.”

Trevor swung the door open hastily, calling out for Wade right away. A head with muddy locs popped up in their direction.

“Hey Trevor! Hi Ron!”

“Wade! Get over here, no time for pleasantries!”

Wade rushed over to meet them outside.

“Get out of my G-damn store Trevor!”

“I’m going, Debra. Say hi to lovely Floyd for me, will ya?”

“Get out!”

The trio walked away from the place, not knowing where to head next.

“Let’s go talk in my truck, where we won’t be… disturbed by any fuckwad wearing Andés brand sherpa jackets. Why do they even need jackets out here? It’s like 90 degrees all the time!”

He was parked across the way from Sterling Lake, and as he went, he tried his best to avoid running into the clique of phony fucks. The minute they all piled in, Trevor peeled out so loudly it was surprising he tried being discrete at all.

“So, Ron. Fill Wade in.”

“What’s goin’ on?”

“It’s the Merryweather Night Club.”

“Ooh, are we goin’ in to see them pretty girls dance?”

“No, Wade.” Trevor interjected.

“Then what-“

“It’s about Steve.”

“Who?”

Trevor impatiently shot out a breath, trying his best to breakdown the situation to Wade. He put a hand to his face briefly before speaking again.

“Haines, Wade. Steven fuckin’ Haines.”

“Ohh him! That fancy dude at the park.”

“Yeah. The fancy dude at the park.”

“What about him?”

“Well Ron here caught word that Devin Weston is hosting some big event there for Haines and his crew.”

“We invited or somethin’?”

“For fucks sake- No, Wade. We’re gonna plan out how to completely crash and wreck the party, so we can get that club the fuck out of here.”

“How’re we gonna do that?”

“Well first, we’re gonna scope the place out. Get a better idea of what we’re dealing with here.”

Trevor thought to himself that if he didn’t have a good look from the outside, that’d he’d have to get a layout of the floor plans himself. It’s not like he hadn’t visited the club before, but he hadn’t been… sober exactly when he dropped by those few times. So it was basically like seeing it for the first time. If he couldn’t get much from the outside, he knew only one person who could accomplish getting the layout of the place.

“We’re almost there, get ready to do some creeping boys.”

The sun was setting, and soon it would be dark out. And when it got dark in Los Santos, it got dark. The only way the city could be visible was from the surplus of lights that were nearly everywhere, except for a few places. They at least had some darkness to rely on so they wouldn’t be spotted right away. Trevor parked a block away, and the three of them hid on the rooftop of the building across the way. Neon lights flickered on, reading “MERRYWEATHER’S SUNNY DAYS NIGHT CLUB”.

“Such a stupid fucking name. I mean, why is it called Sunny Days if it’s a night club?!” Trevor angrily muttered.

As the sky grew dark, the club began to stir, with some random rhythmic song starting up. Ron lifted a pair of binoculars he brought with him, and gasped.

“There he is! Mr. Weston himself!”

Trevor snatched the binoculars from Ron, causing him to crash into his side.

“Uh, Trevor, it’s still around my neck.”

“Then take it the fuck off, before I take it off for you.”

He fumbled around with it, tossing it into Trevor’s hands. Below them, he saw Devin standing outside, with a pristine woman beside him. Trevor whistled lowly, so they wouldn’t be heard.

“That lady’s wayyy out of that fucker’s league.”

He watched them speak to the bouncer outside, hearing them laugh about something before heading in.

“They’re probably laughing it up now, plotting their next move to take over the city!”

“Shut up Ron, we lost them.”

He growled in frustration, handing the binoculars back to Ron.

“Let’s sneak ‘round back, maybe we’ll see something there.”

As they left, Trevor made a mental note of where the Merryweather bouncers were placed. Two burly men guarded the entrance, with a thick velvety rope not too far in front of it. They had to avoid the streetlights, seeing as people like them were sure to raise suspicion being near one of the hottest night clubs in LS. He couldn’t be made, not when he already had a reputation there.

“Alright Ron, you see anything?”

They hid near a dumpster, away from the lights.

“Not really, it’s too dark-“

Suddenly, the back door swung open. Ron and Trevor ducked while Wade’s eyes were transfixed on who was coming out. Trevor yanked him down, holding a finger to his lips.

“So I says to him, ‘You ain’t payin’ me enough to stay on this failure of a fuckin’ show Solomon!’, old guy flipped the fuck out.”

“That’s that Pelosi actor though!” Wade said, rather loudly.

“Wade! Shh!”

“And then I- wait a minute. The fuck was that?”

“Shit! Shit!” Ron panicked.

“Yo!” Pelosi started to walk in their direction.

“We better get out of here. Now.”

All three of them scrambled up to run off back to Trevor’s truck.

“Get back here! Security!” The actor began to chase them, along with one of the Merryweather guards.

They continued to run down the block, Trevor breaking into a sprint so he could start the car up before anyone caught up to them.

“Get in! Get the fuck in!”

The truck revved up, and Trevor drove off in a haste. Even though it didn’t go as planned, Trevor couldn’t help but laugh out loud.

“Whew! What a rush, huh?”

“Rush?! We almost got caught, Trevor!”

“Yeah, only because Wade couldn’t keep it down for 5 fuckin’ seconds.”

“I’m sorry! That Pelosi guy is famous! I ain’t ever seen a actor up close.”

“Yeah, but he’s already washed up. Nothing special.”

“Isn’t he our age? How can he be washed up if he’s still-“

“Can it, Wade.”

Trevor came to the conclusion that there wasn’t enough visibility of the place from the outside. It didn’t have a single window. He mumbled to himself that he needed to go see a friend of his. The travel to El Burro Heights didn’t take long, with Trevor telling the other two to wait in the truck.

“Ron, please make sure he doesn’t do anything dumb.”

“Got it.”

“It was one time!”

He made his way up the steps, banging on the door. He lifted his head up to the outdoor camera, snarling at it.

“Let me the fuck in Wheels!”

The front door clicked open, and Trevor walked right in. He shut it behind him, and trotted over to a bedroom.

“Trevor. Didn’t think I’d see much of you again.”

“Neither did I old friend.”

“What is it. What do you want.”

The room was lit up with aqua and pink shades, a visual of a permanent sunset on his computer. Some kind of synth music played faintly. A nerdy looking guy was seated in a wheelchair next to a set up that looked like it was pulled right from the 90s, various posters and novelty items strewn about.

“Let me cut to the chase. It’s Merryweather again.”

“Again? Trevor, I thought we agreed you’d leave them alone!”

“Ah ah ah! I didn’t finish, Lest. Get this, there’s some big event going on soon. Steve Haines- some big get together with him and his posse of lame-os.”

“Really? Devin’s letting those guys in? I thought it was all big name people.”

“Yeah, well Steve isn’t exactly poor Lester. I thought we both knew that.”

“Duh, but still. He’s not exactly Devin’s type of crowd.”

“No no no, I think they might be in kahoots. Planning something.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Hmm. Let me see…”

He turned to the computer, clacking away on his keyboard. It was rather vintage looking, and Trevor was surprised it worked at all. Lester was into technology more than he was though, so he probably worked some kind of magic on it.

“Hm. You’re right. Seems like they’ve known one another for quite some time. Guess their dads work together.”

“Fuckin’ daddy’s boys.”

“But, I still don’t think interfering with that party is a good idea.”

“Why the fuck not?”

“You’ve had enough run ins with the both of them already.”

“But if we infiltrated the club, we could get it shut down!”

“What are you planning, some sort of raid? You and your buddies? 2 other people isn’t much to work with if you wanna take down one of the most popular clubs here.”

“That’s why I came to you!”

“For what?”

“So you could do your cyber shit, find the floor plans or something!”

“You know that’s gonna take a long time, right? I mean, getting the blueprints, not to mention finding other people who’re on board with the idea of it all-”

“Well no shit.”

“Are you paying me?”

“What?”

“I said, are you paying me?”

“What the fuck would I need to pay you for?”

“Taking time out of my day to get that done for you.”

“Right. Because you’re sooo busy.”

Lester frowned slightly, upset by the remark.

“I’m gonna just ignore that. Anyway, I’m not asking for a whole lot. Just something for the effort I’m putting in to find the plans.”

“So you’ll do it?”

“What choice do I have?”

“Absolutely none my friend!” He said, grin wide.

“Y’know you’re still gonna need to assemble a crew that doesn’t consist of only your… minions or whatever. That’s your part. Now shoo, let me do my thing.”

“Oh Lester the Molester you never let me down!” He said, clapping a hand on his shoulder.

“I told you to stop calling me that!”

“Aww, and here I thought you liked it!”

“Just go already. If we’re doing this, we’re doing it right. No funny business.”

“But funny business is my specialty!”

“Oh my God, go!”

He made his way back over to the truck, seeing Wade passed out in the back. Slamming a hand on the truck bed, he yelled for him to wake up.

“Boys! We got some recruiting to do.”

“Wh-what? What d’ya mean? Who are we gonna find? I thought it was just gonna be us-”

“We’re not taking out one of the biggest clubs in LS on our own, Ron.”

“But I-”

“No buts! Now let’s go.”

They all drove across the city, back to the apartment complex Floyd lived in, Wade’s place being the first one you see pulling in. He had been nice enough to pitch in some cash to pay his rent, seeing as Wade basically had no money to begin with. The trio brainstormed for a bit, chattering away about needing to find people who hated those guys just as much as they did, before Wade and Ron promptly passed out. Trevor threw on a random shuffled playlist to keep him occupied as they slept, and some song he’d never heard before played. Some artist called Grimes? The intro was wobbly, like someone was shaking laminated paper. He kept it on, liking how funky it sounded. The music reverberated loud in his ears, the singer’s voice light and dreamlike compared to the dark, heavy tone of the song. It was the experimental stuff Trevor was into. He opened nosedivr, scrolling through his usual feed. This was a thing he did often when he couldn’t sleep. As he kept going through posts, he noticed he still followed Amanda; they stopped being friends long ago and the task of removing her on there slipped his mind. She had posted a new photo though, and he instantly recognized who she was with just from the shoes. It was that Michael guy.

@krystal-klear-tears

𝔦 𝔱𝔢𝔩𝔩 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔞𝔩𝔩 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔱𝔦𝔪𝔢, 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔳𝔢𝔫 𝔦𝔰 𝔞 𝔭𝔩𝔞𝔠𝔢 𝔬𝔫 𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔱𝔥 𝔴𝔦𝔱𝔥 𝔶𝔬𝔲.

#grunge aesthetic #lana del rey #lyrics #black and white aesthetic

His finger hovered over the reblog button, and he hesitated. What was he doing right now? He didn’t give a shit who Amanda was with anymore. Michael was just another name, another face, another person she was just gonna dump later on. She could never do commitment. That was the one thing he knew for sure in the period of time they had been friends. Amanda wasn’t exactly a bad person for it, she just didn’t express her feelings in the best way. It was why she jumped from guy to guy. They didn’t need anything more than her facade, her surface level personality. So when the time came that she would be close to showing her true colors, she’d cut them off. Trevor didn’t like that. If there was one thing he truly could not stand, it was people being two-faced. He wished Amanda embraced herself more. But like he said, it was whatever now. Soon enough, he wouldn’t see anymore posts like that.

Still, he figured he could unfollow her another day. Part of him did wanna see how long this one would last. Was that bad? Maybe. Who cares. By the time he had finished scrolling mindlessly on his phone, he’d finally grown tired. He wanted to dream about tomorrow, because tomorrow promised a plan in the works, and it was fucking spectacular. He couldn’t let something so meaningless like a new boyfriend of hers distract him. Yet despite that, he still found himself wanting to know more. This was the first guy in a while that Amanda got with that she didn’t run to tell him about. It felt… strange. But again, he couldn’t let that distract him from what was at the front of his mind. He didn’t have time for that. He had to focus on Merryweather first and foremost. Shutting his eyes, a smile grew on his face. He was finally gonna take those stupid fucks down.

//sorry if these seem short rn,,, it’s gonna be a slow build up tbh. it’ll be worth it later on when i complete future chapters lol. don’t wanna rush it too much ,, also i feel like i’m gonna accidentally make this sound all over the place so uh apologies in advance 💯 i will go into more detail abt amanda n trevor’s friendship in this too btw so expect that eventually ig

#gta v #grand theft auto v #grand theft auto 5 #trevor philips #ron jakowski #wade hebert #lester crest #michael de santa #michael townley #amanda de santa #midnight city au

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incorrect-ikevamp-quotes · 4 years

Note

Do you think they would actually enjoy the modern world? Or would they want to stay in their current time period?

Hm, well, I think that may vary depending on each suitor if I’m honest! (I’ll be excluding Sebastian from this one, only because he is a modern man and I wager he would want to stay in the mansion in order to finish his thesis)

Under a cut bc it’s a long boi:

I think for people like Arthur and Theo, for instance--who always seem to live in the fast lane--it might not really prove much of a problem. They would continue enjoying the night life and move with their busy schedules. Tl;dr: (For them? Same shit, different day)

Vincent would likely be doing just fine given how Theo often provides assistance in places where he struggles; to promote his art, to spark intrigue in the general public and benefactors. He might be a little overwhelmed by the influx of stimuli that comes with the modern era, constant noise and interaction and movement--perhaps worry that people are losing their ability to live in the moment. (Not to mention what’s being done to the environment...) There might be a learning curve/adjustment, but I think Theo would help him ease in. Plus, it would be a little easier to promote his art given the less stringent restrictions on public exhibitions. He’d still have to work for his fame, but at least the van Goghs wouldn’t have to live in constant unease in the proximity of the cutthroat academy. Tl;dr: (Mixed feelings, but tries to stay positive about modern times)

Dazai is more familiar with this kind of life of quick turmoil and breakneck speed, if anything he falls back into his old coping mechanisms--hello writing, drinking, and smoking. An overwhelming influx of information and suffering would probably be hard for him to manage, despite how expertly he hides it. I think I would be worried he would lose himself in the dismal reality of diminished connection with other people. Yes I’m shoving him into therapy, I want him to start living for himself and taking care of himself ffs

That isn’t to say there aren’t happy possibilities for him, just that I think he really needs to heal first. I could see him very happy in a kind of writer’s circle with people he loves and trusts; less expending his energy in a desperate attempt to fill the void and please others, more cultivating his own happiness... Tl;dr: (Positive potential, but honestly part of me thinks the past quieter/simple/rural life suits him better...he still loves meme culture tho, he finds it so expansive and creative)

Isaac is in a similar boat as Dazai, I think! He has wonderful potential as a mentor and professor, and living in a world that has a little more patience and respect for genius might help encourage him to put himself out there. That being said, I think the pace of life would exhaust him though--he is very much the kind of person that prefers to keep to himself and just puzzle and tinker. Baby boy just wants to do equations, build little inventions, and read up on the recent discoveries in astrophysics (BRUH WHEN THE IMAGE OF THE BLACK HOLE CAME OUT HE FORGOT HOW TO B R E A T H E) Napoleon is the only reason he eats anything healthy or on any kind of regular schedule s m h. Tl;dr: (Not a lot changes, honestly? He was reclusive then, he still is now--he just has more toys/academic resources. If anything he might get a little too lost in his work because of it, somebody please make sure he’s eating/sleeping/socializing;;;)

Poor Jeanne is SUFFERING. Please release him from this nightmare he is begging. Jk jk, I don’t think it would be too bad for him--but I do think that he would have the aforementioned problem of too many stimuli and too much interaction. I think he would ease into it a little with Mozart’s help; he would just be awkward and wooden until he got the hang of it. Most people just find him quirky in an amusing way, and don’t think too hard about it. I’d wager he’d probably become literate at this point because of the abundance of resources and necessity to read/write (okay but imagine this baby with a little kid workbook iM GONNA CRY!!! TAKE ALL MY CRAYONS JEANNE).

Can you imagine this mofo at a Starbucks??? Tall and stoic, dark and debonair (EVERYONE IS S W O O N I N G), and he just asks in a light tenor “can I have a mocha with eight shots of expresso” with a completely straight face. “Sir, that could kill you” “Don’t worry, I’ve been dead a long time” And he just moves to wait for his order. 11/10 cryptid I could watch an entire show just about his daily adventures

He works with Napoleon a lot given their similar skillsets. They coach kids at high schools that have fencing teams (it’s really REALLY cute bc if they’re on the younger side, Jeanne will very dramatically lose bc he wants to encourage them and the kids are delighted--but the parents are INCHES from laughing so hard they’re in tears). Otherwise, he mostly takes up gigs as a security worker/bodyguard, only really works for the money. He prefers to spend his time in ways that feel meaningful if he can, so don’t be surprised if you see him in foster homes and in social working spaces. He has an uncanny understanding about him, a kind of silence/patience that doesn’t stifle; it makes the kids/teens calm down in milliseconds. They really listen when he does talk, and he sets good and clear boundaries--he knows how to be firm when it’s required. He gives them the structure and placid grounding they’ve never had, and really pays attention to what’s important to them. Brings them little things he notices; brings flowers to the one that likes to draw, brings CDs (he is bad with technology, but they usually only have access to older/outdated stuff anyway) to the one the one that struggles to write with white noise in the house, brings little plushies to the ones that lose theirs. He’s simple but solid, and he finds a lot of meaning in helping kids overcome the similar kind of struggles he faced. Tl;dr: (Steep learning curve, but he just sees it as all the same really--just more work to be done with the literacy requirement and adjustment to technology. Will be resistant at first, but when he gets accustomed and starts finding people who are important to him, he wouldn’t want to change anything/go back. But will admit there are some days he just wants to go to the most remote place he can access and just live there for a month with no human interaction whatsoever; people are inefficient and insufferable sometimes)

Mozart’s life honestly doesn’t change much? I feel like he would easily be able to keep composing and continue releasing his work as per usual. Given his quick capacity to schmooze and say what people want to hear when he must, he’d be more than able to network his way into success. I think the only thing he might struggle with now and again is inspiration, given the world operates on a very surface level in the modern era sometimes. Profound insight and depth are not quite as cultivated in many ways, and he can struggle to find something that just sparks motivation/novelty in his mind, makes him start composing at breakneck speed. He reads a lot and watches some TV shows/movies when he’s at really low inspiration levels, the kind of guy that sneers at Game of Thrones--but finds things like BBC’s Sherlock more passable (wants intrigue and complexity, doesn’t much enjoy the sensationalized drivel). When Arthur finds out he loves ATLA he about falls off his seat. “It’s a children’s show.” “Yes it is, with a remarkable level of depth and craftsmanship, what are you trying to say?” He begins to find a kind of rhythm in his composing, and Jeanne and Dazai often drop by with so many crazy stories he finds himself filled with music anyway LMAO Tl;dr: (Same as Isaac, really just keeps doing his thing without being impeded, and he enjoys the luxuries/conveniences of the modern era. Will be slightly resistant at first because of how alien some of the changes are, but will fall into the habits/customs slowly and surely. Fine with it, will whine a bit at the growing pains tho)

Leonardo actually canonically owns a bar, and does that really surprise anyone? He really enjoys the excitement of meeting new people and hearing about their myriad histories, the influx of cultures/languages/experiences. It’s a nice but lowkey place, people stop for a drink, listen to some good music--chat amiably and relax after a long day’s work--before heading out. There are regulars and people that just stop for that single day; tourists, vacationers, so on and so forth.

When asked, many people note a sleek black cat with sharp eyes that led them to the bar... Tl;dr: (Don’t Let the Existential Dread Set-in: The Prequel, adapts well to the modern era because of centuries of experience but also...he’s so tired...somebody please hold him I can’t watch him live like this, lord jesus)

Optimally, I see Comte filling his time with myriad pursuits; ranging from philanthropy, indulging in art/music/theatre (often a benefactor as well), and keeping track of his chirren (they may exist more independently now, but he still worries about them ;-;). Otherwise nothing much changes for him, still goes to galas and fancy gatherings, still enjoys fashion and spoiling people, still seeks to occupy himself with social interaction and care-taking--if he doesn’t have a family of his own. He’s basically just that meme that’s like DON’T LET THE EXISTENTIAL DREAD SET-IN. DON’T LET IT SET-IN!!!!!!!!! Tl;dr: (Not to repeat myself but also Don’t Let the Existential Dread Set-in: The Sequel, literally just desperately trying to fill the void please somebody help him he also just needs to be held fuck’s sake, I’m going to drag him kicking and screaming into happiness--but otherwise has no great trouble adjusting to the modern era. I feel like he would have a more minor form of what Dazai struggles with, maybe a lack of personable connection that he once had; fewer chances to be himself and relax. Also probably worried about the increasing unhappiness and turmoil building in the world in general...)

Napoleon is similar to Comte in that he often checks up on Isaac and Jeanne from time to time, and does the aforementioned fencing lessons with kids. He also takes a lot of basic security positions--for venues, concerts, museums--you name it. He dislikes the idea of sitting behind a desk a lot, so he prefers to do a lot of different things; he even cooks from time to time at the restaurants that know him very well. One gig he particularly enjoys is battle choreography for movies/theatre! He tends to stay away from anything too historically close to his era of origin, but he has fun coming up with realistic (smaller scale) hand-to-hand combat scenarios and duels. Tl;dr: (This era doesn’t feel like too much of a change. It’s a little more intensive in terms of pace, but he manages to keep up pretty well, it just exhausts him from time to time--and he usually goes on trips or hikes to unwind when he needs to like Jeanne LOL they do not go to their happy place, they go to their high lonesome place).

Shakespeare also continues to do his drama thing, organizes troupes on tons of different levels--from community level to more intense, skilled groups that re-enact his own work. His life doesn’t change all that much beyond a new form of theatre logistics, and he adjusts to the technology fairly easily out of necessity. He’ll stop by Vincent’s place from time to time to show him recordings of his latest shows, but otherwise is almost always on the move. Tl;dr: (So long as he can keep following his greatest passion, he doesn’t really mind the changes in how theatre happens--he doesn’t have any sizable issues with the modern era.)

Ability with technology (phones mostly):

Arthur: more than capable, well-versed, loves to do everything on his phone no prob--maybe lives a little too much on his phone (Vine/TikTok/Youtube can kill his productivity RIP) also yes he has a fidget spinner on his desk, no I will not be taking any constructive criticism at this time

Theo: yes but with a lot of cursing at first, had to do it for work and now looks down on anyone that can’t keep up with him (except for Vincent)

Vincent: knows the basics, taking and sending pictures, writing things in notes for later, texting (tho sending emails is a little harder for him); he does his best but he can be slow. Really really enjoys the paint programs on his iPad for when he’s on public transit, but he starts setting alarms after he gets the hang of it (he’s missed his stops before because of it LMAO)

Leonardo: what kind of stupid question? Man knows how to pick them apart and put ‘em back together for crying out loud, uses it like a pro--comes to him naturally, and he’s the guy that keeps coming up with ways to jailbreak Apple products and thwart their money-grubbing tactics. Catch him playing Minish Cap on his emulator on the way to work, brah

Comte: just vibing, keeps up with the times easily since he’s been doing it for so long, much like Theo uses it to keep in touch with the people around him--he’s the “prefers to call instead of text” sorta guy though, he worries about losing emotional subtleties and he likes to hear people’s voices. Doesn’t do anything special on phones, more just a tool; will read/listen to podcasts/does have emulators (courtesy of Leo) and enjoys playing Pokemon when he’s bored

Jeanne: types one finger at a time, it will take a while--but he’ll get there (deleted all his contacts by accident once and Mozart was just. HOW.) He barely knows how to use a phone, and it’s a steep learning curve for him

Mozart: purely functional when it comes to his phone, refuses to rely on it beyond the necessities that only tech can do (for instance, sending emails or reading articles or uploading compositions) he still writes his music before making more polished digital copies. He will sometimes listen to pieces digitally, but prefers to play them in-person; he feels that a lot of the soul in a piece is lost despite the convenience

Dazai: you absolute fools. you baboons. why would you ever give him this kind of power. it is 3AM and he has been on a wikipedia trail spanning hours, started with Cleopatra being the seventh in her line with that name all the way to cotton candy being called “daddy’s beard” in French. please help him he hasn’t slept in years. Also probably binges anime and manga lbr. He’s the one making vine references every other second, always up to date on the memes^TM

Isaac: also mostly uses it as a tool for research and calculations; it’s a way to keep track of information. He also likes to play background music while he’s working, so he finds the device nice and convenient--plus less having to go around pestering people in-person. he does start to get interested in coding and tinkering with apps/programs eventually, too

Shakespeare: finds it a delightful little contraption, so useful because it lets him jot down ideas as they come to him quickly, and he can edit his texts much more easily with digital interfaces. also likes that performances can be recorded, because now he can analyze his staging more efficiently--it gives him a good sense of what needs to be adjusted, and encourages him to keep streamlining/try new concepts

Napoleon: likes it because he can keep in touch with people more easily, the kind of guy to drop a line before checking on a friend. he really likes to look up recipes and find out more about cooking techniques he’s never encountered before. Isaac starts making an Instagram account just to show Napoleon’s impeccable plating, and Napo gets quite the following without knowing for a while

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the-last-teabender · 3 years

Text

FANFIC: Oxventure - Duel Destinies

RATING: G

WORDS: Just under 7k

SUMMARY: Corazón gets hit on the head.

A/N: This isn’t my first time writing fanfic, but it’s my first time in literal decades writing something that a) isn’t going into a charity anthology and b) isn’t single-sentence goofs in my Gchat window with @randomthunk. So I actually am a little nervous to just yeet my work out into the world without an editor/publisher frontline protecting me from looking foolish. I do have plans to fic more tho.

I approached this as though I was writing an official tie-in because that’s my comfort zone (and occasionally my job). Which was a little challenging because there’s a lot that’s not part of the story but is part of the viewing experience. I have not mastered it in one story but the attempt was fun. Also I haven’t smashed alt-codes this obsessively while writing since I wrote about Señor 105.

Thanks aforementioned Ginger for being my beta reader and basically sitting on me to post this instead of hide it in my writing folder.

Anyway, if you like what I’m throwing out here, I have actually a lot of stuff in print and even more coming.

----------

“Right,” Dob said, pacing the length of the deck, “before we go, let’s review. Prudence, what happened yesterday?”

“We found a bad man killing off local slimes to make slime booze.”

“Good. Corazón, what happened yesterday?”

“I began my awesome new career as a detective and threw someone out a window.”

“All right. Merilwen?”

“Mow.”

“Excellent. Egbert?”

“I set a tavern on fire and got my seal very drunk on slime gin.”

“All right, that’s us caught up.”

That wasn’t the entire catch-up, but all of them knew the events of the day before well enough. The forest outside the town of Esterwell was in turmoil, according to the wizard Binbag after he tumbled unexpectedly out of a pantry. It was suddenly bereft of slimes — the cute little blobby creatures generally used for target practice by up-and-coming adventurers. As it happened, slimes had other uses. Serving as the base for a delightful high-end alcoholic brew, for one. Serving as the base of the entire local food chain, for another. If the slime population continued to plummet, eventually the other animal populations would follow suit.

An investigation of the local slime hunters (led by DCI Jeff Crimestopper, a pseudonym Corazón was becoming increasingly attached to) turned up that they were all in the employ of the same man: one Alonzo Horgan, owner of the Horgan Distillery. One especially talkative young hunter revealed that Horgan intended to “wring all the slimes out of Esterwell Forest” before upping sticks to his next hunting ground.

The goal was, in short, to stop Horgan’s machinations before he destabilized the entire local ecosystem and went on to do the same to others. Somewhere along the way, Dob had got it into his head that the goal was to start a brewery of their own and hold a cider-making contest in the Esterwell town square… an idea the group at large now referred to as “Plan C.”

Plan A, currently underway, was to continue the detective lark and either talk sense into Horgan or (more likely) run him out of town. Plan B was burning down the distillery.

“I’m still very much in favor of bumping Plan B up to Plan A,” said Prudence, wiggling her fingers as the group made their way back into Esterwell.

“Mrow,” Merilwen the cat grumbled from Dob’s shoulder, which translated to something like, “But that doesn’t actually solve the problem of making him stop.”

“Oh, fine,” Prudence huffed. “Detectives it is.”

Corazón pumped a fist low and (he thought) out of sight. “DCI Jeff Crimestopper back on the case, bay-bee.”

They arrived at the home of Alonzo Horgan — a palatial manor in a town that really wasn’t the sort to have palatial manors. At least half a dozen residences would have to have been knocked down to make way for the place, which stood half again as high as the buildings around it that had survived.

Merilwen hopped lightly from Dob’s shoulder, turning back into an elf again, as the half-orc tapped politely on the door.

“No, no.” Egbert shoved past him, balling up one scaly fist. “You’ve gotta really punch it.” He slammed his fist against the door several times, making it bow slightly under the pressure.

“Open up!” Corazón shouted, cupping his hands around his mouth. “We have a warrant!”

“Don’t just say we have a warrant!” Merilwen hissed.

The door was opened mere moments later by a tall, rail-thin man with an upturned nose and a downturned moustache. “Mmcan I help you?”

Corazón pushed past the man. “Yeah, you can take us to Alonzo Horgan. We’re taking him down to the station for questioning.”

“I’m afraid Mr. Horgan is not—” But the man was cut off as the rest of the group piled past and into the house.

“Where is he, then? Upstairs?” Corazón pointed up the stairwell, one foot on the steps.

The man at the door, to his credit, did his best to maintain his decorum. “Mr. Horgan is not taking visitors.”

“We’re not visitors,” Dob said gruffly, looming over the man, “we’re detectives.”

“Is that so? Well, I do hope you meant what you said about having a warrant. Otherwise I may have to take you to the authorities.”

Alonzo Horgan’s voice silenced the group, but had it not, his presence would have. Fully six-foot-four, a stocky mix of fat and muscle generally only seen on back alley brawlers, stuffed into a fancy suit. His glare was imperious; his moustache was excellent.

Corazón swiveled and approached the master of the house. “Alonzo Horgan?”

“Yes, I’m… not sure who else I would be.” Horgan seemed put out for a moment, but recovered himself. “May I ask what business you have here?”

“DCI Jeff Crimestopper.” Corazón pulled a piece of paper from his coat, flashed it briefly, and put it away again. “This is my DI, Dob Tyler.”

Dob grinned toothily; had it not been Dob, it might have looked threatening. “Here to make sure my loose cannon superior does things by the book.”

Corazón gestured to the rest of the party. “DS Prudence, DC Merilwen. And, er, PC Egbert, he mostly makes the tea.”

“It’s really good tea,” Egbert piped up.

“No offense, sir…” Horgan gestured to Corazón. “But you look more like a pirate than a detective.”

“Deep cover, obviously. I wouldn’t expect a civilian to understand.”

Horgan waved a hand dismissively. “Even if I were to entertain the idea that you’re who you claim to be, I feel I’ve done nothing to warrant an investigation.”

Merilwen narrowed her eyes. “Nothing, Mr. Horgan?” Her voice was tense, hitting that slightly higher octave that her friends knew meant violence was quickly becoming an option. “Killing off an entire species for your own benefit is ‘nothing’? Allowing the local wildlife to starve is ‘nothing’?”

“Oh, it’s about the distillery, is it? I promise you, my dear, I’ve heard it all before.”

Dob gritted his teeth, giving Horgan a highly dramatic, highly knowing look. “I’d be careful if I was you, sir. DC Merilwen has a license to… er. Bear.”

Still, none of this seemed to faze Horgan. “If you think complaining about my methods is going to have any effect… let me assure you, it hasn’t yet. Now, unless you have any actual business with me…”

Prudence stepped up. “All right, look. Fine. We’re not actually detectives.”

“You don’t say,” Horgan deadpanned.

“That said… the whole slime issue is a real thing, and we really do need you to stop hunting them out completely. Or at least cut back.” Prudence looked back at Merilwen. “Cut back? Would that be good enough?”

“I prefer the idea of him stopping completely,” Merilwen seethed.

Prudence gestured to Merilwen. “Yeah, what she said. But I mean, it affects you, too. Do you like, uh… wild boar? I guess? Rabbit? Pheasant? I don’t know.” She spread her hands in an exaggerated shrug. “Screw up the food chain and you don’t get any of those.”

Horgan looked them all over, one by one. “You come into my home. You pretend to be something you’re not. And then you make demands of me that would effectively shut down my business. Give me one reason why I should even listen to what you have to say.”

Egbert had mostly detached from the scene in front of him, his eyes scanning his surroundings in search of something entertaining. They lighted on a pair of crossed swords on the wall, with a bronze plaque underneath: Esterwell Annual Fencing Championship, Second Place. Without thinking, he blurted out, “A duel.”

“I beg your pardon?” Horgan asked. The rest of the party fixed Egbert with confused looks.

“A duel,” the dragonborn repeated, with a little more confidence this time — confidence filled in a lot of blanks, in his experience. “If one of us bests you in a duel, you have to at least give us a proper audience.”

Much to the group’s surprise — including Egbert’s, truth be told — Horgan seemed to consider it. “Hmm. Well. I suppose it makes more sense than… whatever we’ve been doing.” He gestured at the room in general, then turned to Corazón. “On the condition that I fight this one.”

Corazón grinned. “Hell yeah. I’ll fight you. Prepare to have your whole scene wrecked by Corazón de Ballena.”

“I thought you said your name was Jeff Crimestopper.”

“I told you. Deep cover.”

Horgan sighed wearily and turned to his doorman. “See them out. Tomorrow at sunrise on the lawn. Come alone, whatever your name is. And pray you do not lose. I have no patience for time-wasters.”

The five were ushered out without another word.

“Not sure it’s wise to challenge a prizewinning fighter to a duel,” Merilwen noted when they were outside town again. “That sort of seems like the main thing he’ll be ready for.”

Egbert waved a hand. “Pff, it’s fine. The plaque on his wall said he was only second place. That means there’s at least one person better than him in town.”

“Still… What’s going to happen if Corazón if he loses?”

Corazón laughed. “Pff. Hah. Nothing. Because Corazón won’t lose.” He unsheathed his rapier and stopped to take a few jabs at a nearby tree. A heavy branch, near to breaking, creaked overhead. “You know what my crew used to call me?”

“Yes,” said Prudence, “you’ve complained about it several times.”

“I mean in battle. You know, when we captured ships. My swordsmanship is second to none. They used to call me Corazón the—”

There was a crash, and silence.

Egbert stopped walking, waiting for the punchline. “Corazón the what?”

“Er.” Merilwen pointed back toward the tree hesitantly. “Corazón the unconscious, apparently.”

Prudence turned and lifted away the branch, wincing at the sight of the pirate splayed out on the ground. “Oh, dear…” Then she looked up at the group. “So does this mean I’m captain now?”

---

The general consensus had been to let Corazón be once he’d been carried back to the Joyful Damnation and bundled into bed. He would likely be full of opinions and complaints as soon as he woke up. That, and he’d need his rest before dueling Horgan the next morning.

There was no bleeding as far as they could tell. Just a big bruise that would get bruisier over the next few days. Egbert dropped a quick bit of healing on Corazón which, while it would likely be helpful in the long run, did nothing to wake him. Eventually, Dob took up a seat by the enormous bed in the captain’s quarters, keeping an eye on the patient and picking out a few chords to pass the time. Just as he was getting a good riff worked out...

“Ow.”

“Ow?” Dob leaned over the bed. “Did you say ow?”

“Yes, I said ow. Because I’m in pain.”

Dob jumped up from his seat and threw the door open. “Guys! Guys! He’s awake!”

Prudence was the first to run in. “Is he okay?”

“Sounds like it.”

Egbert followed, with Merilwen bringing up the rear. They crowded around Corazón’s bed, realized at the same time that that would probably look weird from his vantage point, and backed off a bit.

“Corazón?” Dob leaned in slightly. “How’s your head?”

He squinted up at Dob. “What did you call me?”

“Oh, right.” Dob laughed. “Silly me. How’s your head, DCI Crimestopper?”

This just seemed to confuse him more. “Who… what are you talking about?” Then he pulled himself up to sitting, perhaps a little more quickly than he ought, and pressed a hand to the top of his head, looking around. “I feel like I’ve been beaned with an entire tree. Where the hell am I?”

“Your room,” Prudence offered. “We figured you’d want a nap after the bludgeoning.”

He shook his head, still sounding a bit dazed. “No… this isn’t my room. My room is bigger. And it doesn’t rock and creak. Are we… are we on a ship?” He looked up at the others again, as though seeing them for the first time.

“... who the hell are all of you?”

There was an awkward silence.

“He’s messing about, right?” Egbert grinned nervously at the others.

“It’s Corazón,” Prudence said quickly, “of course he’s messing about. Just humor him, he’ll be on to something new when he’s tired of it.”

Dob was already on board at humor him. He pressed a hand to his forehead. “Oh, no! Corazón! All our precious memories, lost forever! Please say it isn’t so, old friend!”

If Corazón was acting, he was really leaning into the deadpan delivery. “Is this some sort of prank? It’s not a very good one, if…” His gaze wandered down to his hands resting on the bed sheet, his sleeves wrinkled back somewhat. His eyes went wide, and he made a sort of choking, stammering sound.

Then, again far more quickly than he probably should have, he threw himself out of bed, shoving past Egbert on the way to the largest of his mirrors. Carefully, he pulled his collar aside. And gasped.

“Oh, my God, I’ve been tattooed in my sleep!”

“Gosh,” Egbert said with an admiring smile, “he’s really devoting himself to the bit, isn’t he?”

Merilwen shook her head slightly. “I… don’t… know if it’s a bit.”

“Which one of you did this to me?!” Corazón pointed at the tentacle tattoo emerging from under his collar. “Why would you do that? Why… what happened to my hair!? How long have I been asleep!?” He grabbed the nearest person — Egbert — by the collar. “Are you trying to change my identity!? Am I going to be sold off to the highest bidder!? What’s your plan!? You have to tell me!”

Dob grabbed for his lute, a nervous grin plastered on his face. “Ooooh! Oh, dear! Looks like someone could use a nice lullaby.”

Merilwen held out a warning hand to Dob. “No? No. One second.” She waved a hand to Corazón, the way one might a skittish fox. “Hey, over here.”

“What!? What do you want now!?”

“Just. Okay. Calm down for a second. Calm…” Merilwen inhaled and exhaled slowly, guiding the breathing with her hands. Corazón, surprisingly did the same. That in itself was a sign that something was off.

“Okay, just keep your eyes on me, all right?”

“Sure.” Corazón’s voice was strained.

Merilwen rooted around in the pocket of one of Corazón’s jackets, folded neatly over a nearby chair. She found what she was looking for — a little leather pouch of gold coins — and poured the contents out into her hand. She showed them to Corazón, as though setting up a magic trick. He watched and nodded tensely, his jaw set.

“Dob,” she said with a sweet smile, opening the cabin window. “Would you do the honors?”

“Would I?” Without hesitation, he took the little handful of coins from Merilwen, slid over to the window, and chucked them out into the sea, one by one.

All eyes turned toward Corazón.

“Yes, and?” The nervousness was tinged with irritation. “What?”

Another awkward silence, this one longer. And awkwarder. As they all, in their own time, came to terms with the fact that Corazón was not, in fact, acting.

Prudence tapped him experimentally on the shoulder. He flinched away, balling his hands into fists and holding them in front of his face.

“Hey, hey, whoa! No, no, we’re your friends! It’s us!” Prudence smiled, gesturing around the room. “You know. The Oxventurers! Can’t you recognize us?”

Corazón lowered his fists. “If you mean could I pick you out of a lineup, then yes, I certainly could.”

“Corazón…”

“Hff… and stop calling me that! It’s weird!” He brushed off his sleeve where Prudence had tapped him. “If you’re my kidnappers, then I would hope you already know who I am.”

“Y-Yeah.... Sorry.” Prudence frowned, then smiled. “Percy?”

“Thank you. That’s more like it.” And Corazón made a break for the deck.

---

“All I’m saying,” said the half-orc with the large hammer and the very nice hair, “is that we could be having a cider-making contest in the town square right now.”

“Or burning things,” said the tiefling, as a pair of ancient tomes played around her heels like rowdy puppies. “We could also be burning things right now.”

If this was a kidnapping, it was a very civilized one. Percy hadn’t had any practical experience with being kidnapped, to be fair. His father had suggested that it might happen once or twice in his youth, because that was just how life was for the children of rich and influential people. But after making it to adulthood without ever waking up in a dingy cellar surrounded by leering mercenaries, he’d just put it to the side.

He’d also been a bit disappointed, as escaping from said mercenaries could have been fun. But in retrospect, he might not have done as well at that as he liked to pretend.

He wasn’t tied up, or locked up. At worst, he had been prevented from leaping off the ship by all four of his kidnappers (and a seal, he was still contending with that information) piling themselves on top of him. They’d bundled him back into the captain’s quarters while they consulted with each other. Percy took the time to shave — the itch from his stubble was frazzling his already-frazzled brain — and change into a shirt that still had functional buttons.

The change had gotten a slight stare of disbelief from his captors, as though he’d gone and swapped heads, but no actual comments were made. And now, the dragonborn was sitting by him on the deck and handing him a cup of tea, and it smelled suspiciously like what he drank at home, and yes, this was absolutely one of his teacups.

“So!” the dragonborn said with a toothy grin. “Cora-... er, Percival. Percy? Mr. Milquetoast? Sorry, not sure what to call you now.” He had a cup of his own, but rather than sipping from it, he opened his long snout and splashed the contents inside. Judging by the reaction that followed, the tea was still very hot.

“Just, er… whichever? I guess?” Why was he sitting on a ship drinking tea with his kidnappers while they asked what to call him? Why had his father not been mentioned yet? Was that still incoming? His teacup rattled against the saucer.

“Mmmm… Percy. I’ve always thought you looked like a Percy.”

“Always?” Percy put his teacup down shakily on its saucer. “Then you’ve been spying on me? For how long?”

“No!” The dragonborn waved a hand frantically in front of himself. “No, no, I mean… we’re not…” He looked behind him, where the other three were peering at the scene thoughtfully. “Um, guys, I’m not doing great. Someone else try.”

The elf stepped in and tapped him on the shoulder, as though relieving him from duty. Good. As far as Percy could tell, she was the most logical of the group. She wasn’t panicking… not that he could see, at least.

“So you’re Good Cop, then?” Percy eyed her warily.

“No…” The elf sighed, a sort of long-suffering sigh that made him feel like this was not the first long-suffering sigh she’d issued him. “We’re your friends, really. And we’re just trying to figure out how to help you.”

Percy narrowed his eyes. “My friends.”

“Yes.”

“Not magical kidnappers looking for a piece of the Milquetoast fortune.”

“No. Not magical kidnappers looking for a piece of the family fortune. I promise.”

“I mean, I have friends at home. I can just go home to my actual friends, and not whatever you guys are pretending to be.”

The elf’s face settled into an expression that somehow managed to be both neutral and confrontational, her lips pressed into a line. “Name four friends you have at home.”

Damn. “Uh, th-there’s, uh… there’s Steve… F-Friendsman.”

“Yeah.”

“There’s, a-um, Roger… M’buddy.”

The elf pressed a hand to her face. “Please, at least let us try to help you.”

She seemed absolutely genuine. It was making his head hurt. This was not how criminals acted. As far as he knew. “Fine, help me, or whatever it is you want to do.”

“All right, so…” The elf clasped her hands together. “It’s probably just a matter of jogging your memory. You got a little bop on the head, it shook things up, but we can help you connect things up again. Right?”

“Sure,” Percy said hesitantly, now with the added wrinkle of wondering when and how he’d been hit over the head. He considered asking, but he could already hear the answer. No, we didn’t hit you over the head intentionally. It was a love tap. Something like that.

The elf smiled. It didn’t seem like a kidnapper’s smile. But again, he had nothing to go on. Maybe kidnappers had really nice smiles. “Okay, good. So let’s just rattle out a few of the high points, and see what your brain latches onto.”

Percy nodded, taking a sip from the teacup he still held in a death grip.

“Okay. Spicy rat?” She paused, and he wasn’t sure what for. After a short silence, she picked up again. “No? Okay, that was a while ago, admittedly. Uh… baby-making watch?”

“Babies don’t come from watches,” Percy scoffed. “They come from under cabbage leaves.”

The elf ground to a halt in her questioning, but picked up again with a shake of the head. “What about the party? The one where you went dressed as a sexy nurse and made a teenage girl cry.”

Percy scowled. “I would never do that!”

The half-orc chuckled. “Oh, you very much did.”

“I will not allow you to paint me with the same brush as you, you… s-scoundrels!” Percy felt a chill down the back of his neck. “That’s what this is, isn’t it? You’re trying to convince me I’m one of you and whisk me away to do unspeakable crimes, is that it?”

“Hasn’t taken much trying so far, mate,” Merilwen grumbled.

“Waaaait wait wait wait.” The tiefling squeezed up next to the elf. “We’re coming at this from the wrong angle. He’s clearly forgotten stuff from before we met him, too, right? What we need to do is remind him of why he became a pirate.”

Percy looked around the ship. Then down at the clothes he’d woken up in. And the tattoo on his wrist. “I’m a pirate?”

“Yep, you are a pirate.”

“So… this really is my ship?”

“Er, our ship, yes.” The tiefling seemed to take a lot of pride in saying that. Well, being co-owner of a ship was something to be proud of… if it was true, he’d probably let himself feel a bit proud, too. “So, maybe if you can summon up the feelings that made you want to run away from home and be a pirate, the rest will follow. So, tell us about your dad.”

“He’s… dumb?” Percy shrugged. “He’s annoying? I don’t know, it’s a lot of effort to run away from him for being dumb and annoying. I’ve got nothing.”

The tiefling leaned in conspiratorially. “Nothing about what a bad dad he is? How he has ridiculous expectations of you? Doesn’t want you to have fun and live your own life?” She paused. “How he’s got a stupid wig and he’s all stuffy and bossy?”

Percy leaned away from her. “You seem to have plenty against him already.”

“Oh, no, no. I don’t hate him. You do.”

“No, it really does sound like it’s you.”

The tiefling laughed, waving a hand. “Oh, no, that’s just because he bothers you. It’s a support thing. I’d totally love to live in his big ol’ house.”

“So you’re telling me you don’t like my father, but you do like his money, and that’s supposed to make me feel better?”

The tiefling’s face twisted into a confused frown. “Oh, man. Yeah, we do kinda sound like we kidnapped you for ransom, don’t we?”

Percy flinched away, nearly dropping his teacup. Oddly, the tiefling was once again trying to reassure him. “Which we didn’t?? Which we didn’t. I’m just saying.” She sighed. “I guess he forgot whatever happened that made him want to run away, too. How about you, Egbert? Got any paladin magic for him?”

“I’ve got something better!”

All eyes, Percy’s included, turned to the dragonborn — who was now swinging a mace from one clawed hand.

“So, you know how in all the stories, right? Someone gets knocked on the head and gets amnesia, but then they get hit in the same spot and all their memories come back. Let’s just do that!”

The dragonborn strode over to Percy, winding up the mace. Percy stumbled backwards, his teacup falling and shattering on the deck. “Don’t you dare!”

“Egbert, not that mace!” the elf shouted.

“Oh, it’s fiiiine. I had to hit whatsisname loads of times before he actually turned into a seal.”

Percy looked at the seal. The seal looked back.

“Eg.”

The dragonborn raised his mace over his head. Percy stumbled backwards towards the door to the captain’s quarters, eyes locked on the cursed weapon. He reached behind him for the doorknob and twisted frantically. The door wouldn’t give way.

The elf flung herself at the dragonborn, turning into an octopus in midair. The two hit the deck, the mace rolling harmlessly across the deck as the octopus held the would-be attacker in place. Percy finally managed to yank the door open, racing into the captain’s quarters and slamming the door behind him.

“I meant a spell!” Percy heard the tiefling yell from the other side of the door. “You’ve got more healing spells, don’t you?”

“Oh, riiiight…”

There was a gentle tap at the door. Percy eyed it nervously.

“Heeey, buddy. You okay?” It was the half-orc. “Can I come in?”

“No, you absolutely cannot come in. You’re all insane and there’s a seal man out there saying egg.”

“That’s cool, that’s cool. I’ll just sit out here, how’s that?”

Percy heard a gentle thump against the other side of the door. “So… you really don’t remember anything, do you? About us, or your pirate crew, or any of that?”

“Last thing I remember is going to bed at Milquetoast Manor and thinking tomorrow night’s party was going to be very boring. Then I woke up in bed on a strange boat, with all of you standing over me looking ready to dissect me or something.” Percy sat down, leaning on the other side of the door. His head still felt foggy. “So? Which one of you blackjacked me?”

“You blackjacked yourself with a tree.”

Percy frowned. “Is that the sort of thing I’m likely to do?”

“Oh, yes,” the half-orc said cheerfully. “Merilwen had a stack of tree puns ready to go, but under the circumstances it seemed, uh… bit tasteless.”

“Merilwen?”

“The elf. Don’t worry, you can hear them later. You know, when your head’s right again.” A pause. “Oh! Haha. Of course. I’m Dob, by the way. The tiefling is Prudence, and the big dragon man is Egbert. And we’re all your friends, and we all do super cool things together.”

Percy nodded, still not completely convinced. Then he realized Dob wouldn’t be able to see him on the other side of the door. “If you say so.”

“Gosh. Introducing myself to you. That brings back memories.” Dob stopped himself, fumbling, as if he’d just said something extremely offensive. “I mean… you know…”

Against his better judgment, Percy got up and opened the door. Dob, leaning heavily on it, tumbled backwards… but turned the tumble into a backwards somersault and landed lightly on his feet. He gave a little bow, and Percy felt he ought to clap. Just considering the effort.

“You ready to come out and talk to the others?”

Percy leaned to one side and looked out onto the deck. Egbert was on his feet again, with Merilwen (now an elf) still clinging to his back, as though uncertain whether the dragonborn could be trusted on his own yet. Prudence wore a friendly smile that seemed to say “I’m not going to sacrifice you to my eldritch god, but I’m also not not going to sacrifice you to my eldritch god.” His trusted friends. Apparently.

Before Percy could answer, Dob slapped him on the back and walked him out onto the deck. “All right. We’ve all had a little breather, a little think, and I think… and this is just me… we should back-burner the memory loss issue and focus on the bigger problem.”

“There’s a bigger problem?” Percy looked at Dob incredulously.

The group at large winced. “Yeah…” Dob continued to speak for the group, and no one seemed to mind being relieved of that duty for the moment. “See, Percy. Percival. Friend. Our good friend of so long…”

“Just tell me what’s going to happen to me.”

“You have to duel someone tomorrow morning.”

Percy extracted himself from Dob’s friendly side-arm. “What? Why? Why would I do that?”

“Again,” said Dob, “if it makes you feel better, it is extremely on brand.”

“Hsfd… it doesn’t make me feel better! I have to fight someone tomorrow and I’m not me! I mean, I am me, but I’m not this other me who went and did a thing I didn’t do!”

Amongst them, Percy’s friends(?) laid out the entire situation. All he managed to retain were slimes, collapse of the natural world, very large man, and imminent swordfight. The rest was a sort of blur, and one he was in no mood to attempt to figure out.

“I can’t do this.” It was a statement of fact. “Maybe this Corazón guy can do this, but I can’t. Horgan’s going to be expecting some jerk pirate who can swordfight.”

“We can try another refresher,” suggested Merilwen.

Egbert reached for his mace. “I could try—-”

“No,” said everyone, possibly even the seal.

“Look,” Dob said gently, “we’ll have puh-lenty of time to work on the memory thing, right? All we have to do is get through tomorrow, and if it hasn’t cleared up by then, we’ll find someone to help you, no problem.”

“How can you be so sure?” Percy asked, the fretting feeling coming back even stronger than before.

Egbert shrugged. “It’ll happen. That’s how it tends to go. A problem comes up, and then a couple days later someone comes along with a quest that’ll fix it. It’s really handy.”

“Okay, that’s great for after tomorrow morning. But what about me, tomorrow morning, with swords? What’s my guarantee I get past that alive? Because I’ve never actually stabbed a man.”

“Yes you have,” Prudence pointed out.

“Like a lot,” Merilwen added.

“Apparently you kicked a man to death once,” said Egbert. “I mean, I found out later, but I believe it.”

“But I don’t remember that!” Percy flailed an arm helplessly. “It’s… hds… that’s some future guy and I’m not the future guy, I’m the me guy. How is the me guy going to survive?”

The group fell silent.

“... did I actually kick a man to death?”

They all nodded.

“Oh…”

“And see? That’s why we believe in you, Cor… er, Percy.” Dob threw an arm around Percy’s shoulders again. “We know what you’re capable of. We know it’s in here.” He jabbed at Percy’s chest with one finger. “And in here.” At his head.

“Ow!”

“The head, Dob,” Merilwen hissed, “watch the head.”

“Right, right. Look. We’ve got tonight to train you up into a believable Corazón de Ballena. You’ve already got the look, you’ve already got the voice. That’s more than most people start with.”

Percy let out a weak groan.

“Hey! No, this is good! We can do this! And maybe, somewhere along the way, something will trigger the ol’ bean and the memories will just come flooding back. Right, guys?”

The rest of the team seemed to believe it about as much as Percy did. Which wasn’t much.

“Are you sure we can’t just…” Percy motioned to the anchor rope. “Leave?”

“No,” Merilwen said firmly. But her expression was still hesitant. “No, we have to stop Horgan. More than anything else, that has to happen.”

She was insistent. This was important to her. Percy groaned again.

“Come on, buddy.” Dob lifted his arm from Percy’s shoulders, grabbing him by both arms and staring him in the eyes. “Look me in the eye.”

“Yeah. Looking.”

“Now. Are you a Thieves Cant, or a Thieves Can?”

Merilwen, at least, seemed to appreciate what Dob was going for.

---

Plan B no longer stood for Burning. Plan B, as indicated by a wild-shaped Merilwen taking up a spot behind the topiaries on Horgan’s lawn, now stood for Bear. And possibly Bomb, and Blast, and Bard Casts Thunder Wave, depending on who got trigger-happy first.

No amount of swordfighting or storytelling brought Corazón’s memory back. Nor did any amount of actually insisting on calling him Corazón. Their last ditch hope — that he’d wake up the next morning acting like nothing had happened — didn’t pan out, either. Dob gave pep talk after pep talk as Corazón fretted uncharacteristically, the latter eventually wrapping the uneaten bacon sandwich he’d made for himself in a piece of paper and stowing it in a jacket pocket. Finally, though, they’d all had to take up their positions and leave the rest to luck.

Corazón was left to make the walk up the lawn alone, but the other four had formed a perimeter: Merilwen in the topiary, Dob in a nearby tree, Prudence behind a fence, and Egbert peering over a hedge. Dob promised to shoot Corazón an occasional prompt if things got hairy; but, by and large, it was all him.

As the sun began to rise, Corazón walked up the paved path to the appointed spot. He’d not quite gotten his own swagger down, instead walking slow, measured steps with his hands stuffed in his pockets.

Try to look like you’re too cool for the room! Dob thought; Corazón looked up and around, surprised, then seemed to remember what Dob had said about sending mental messages. He stopped where he was, pulled his hands out of his pockets, squared his shoulders, and walked even more awkwardly up the path.

Fine. It’d have to do.

Just as the light of sunrise hit its best and most aesthetic hue, Alonzo Horgan and his servant walked out. The former wore a rapier at his belt.

“Corazón de Ballena,” Horgan said broadly, his voice dripping with fake friendliness. “Or are we going by something new today?”

“No, er, that’s me.”

Dob thought another swift message.

“I mean… that’s right! That’s me, Corazón. The mighty pirate. Here to run you through like a tasty kebab and grill… grill you on the fires of justice? What the hell does that mean?”

Just go with it, Dob thought irritably, but the moment had passed. Shame. He was rather proud of that one.

Horgan eyed Corazón with amusement. “I can wait if you need a moment.”

“No, no. Erm. Yes, that’s me.” Corazón’s hand hovered over the hilt of his rapier. He was tense. He was ready. He might have been about to faint. It was hard to tell.

Horgan’s retainer’s voice was soft. None of them could hear it from their respective points along the perimeter. Corazón didn’t look especially surprised by any of it, which hopefully meant there was nothing odd about the rules of the duel.

From their spots, separated though each of them was, they all had the same thought at the same time: what would it take? What hadn’t they done? Would they need a spell? Some sort of quest? A skilled healer? Would another bop on the head really have done it?

A shrill whistle blew. Each of them was shaken out of their thoughts to see that the duel had begun, and Corazón was already flagging quickly. It was less of a duel and more of a chase, the enormous Horgan lumbering across the lawn after his smaller opponent. Corazón, for his part, was holding his ground… though “his ground” was constantly moving backwards across the lawn in zigzags.

His heel came dangerously close to a stray root, nearly hidden by the grass.

“Look out!” Egbert shouted. Merilwen, Dob, and Prudence shushed him. Horgan looked up and around for the source of the voice. Corazón, on the other hand, missed the warning entirely. His heel caught on the root, and he windmilled backwards, landing flat on his back.

Merilwen hesitated behind the topiary, one huge, clawed paw creeping around the side of the greenery. Was it go time? The others were in the same state of indecision, poised to attack but waiting to see what happened.

Corazón lifted his head slightly. The massive form of Horgan hovering over him, blade raised threatening, blocked out the faint light of sunrise. The sword hung there for a moment… then was flung across the lawn, accompanied by a disgusted sigh from Horgan.

“How very disappointing.”

The group shot each other quick glances. The message was clear. Well, clear-ish. “Stop Horgan before he can leave” was clear enough, but what would be done with him once apprehended was likely still up in the air. Corazón, unaware of any of this, propped himself up on his elbows.

“Where are you going?” he asked weakly. “We’re not done here.”

“I rather think we are.” Horgan shook his head in… amusement? Disappointment? It was hard to tell. “What a shame. You were so full of piss and vinegar yesterday, and today you’ve got no real fight in you.”

“I’ve got fight… I’ve got plenty of… hhhh.” Corazón put a hand to his head.

“Serves me right, thinking I’d get a good fight out of some puffed-up fake pirate.”

“... what did you say?” Corazón’s voice was suddenly oddly sharp and cold.

Horgan chuckled. “You heard me. You’re less convincing than the chap I hired for my niece’s seventh birthday party.” He waved a hand to his servant. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve not had breakfast yet and I’m peckish. Think I might go to the kitchen and have a bit of a graze.”

On his next step, Horgan’s booted foot slid forward, sending him falling backwards into a puddle of grease that had absolutely not been there moments ago. Now it was his turn to look up at a looming silhouette: Corazón de Ballena, sword pointing down threateningly in one hand, bacon sandwich in the other.

“How appropriate. You fight like a cow.”

Horgan spluttered, eyes bulging. “You… what nonsense is this!?”

“It’s called the power of grease, that’s what nonsense this is. Now get up and fight me so we can have our little talk. Or would you rather we just go ahead and burn your whole scene down?”

“You wouldn’t dare!”

“Yeah, you’re right, I wouldn’t. I think Prudence might, though.” Corazón shouted toward the fence. “Prudence! Plan B for burn?”

Prudence threw her hands in the air. “Plan B for buuuurn!”

Horgan had managed to pull himself up to one knee, the grease still dangerously slick beneath him. “I said to come alone!”

“Yeah, well, pirate. Don’t know what you expected.” Corazón stepped back, taking a bite of his sandwich. “So, I’m calling this a win for Team Oxventure. Which means it’s time for some negotiations concerning your, er, current business model.”

“But…” Horgan looked in the direction of his servant. He was long gone. Whether he’d run off, or whether the large bear standing where he’d stood had disposed of him, Horgan couldn’t tell.

“Oh, yes. That’s our sustainability advisor, Merilwen. She’ll be taking over from here.”

Merilwen growled.

---

“So what you’re saying,” said Egbert, “is that my plan was the best and would have worked.”

“Hff… no! Absolutely not.” Corazón was rubbing a hand over his chin, displeased with the lack of facial hair. “A one-in-six chance of being turned into an animal is not a best plan. Why did you let me shave? I hate it.”

“It’ll grow back.” Prudence poured out a mug of slime beer… the last remaining barrel, which they’d taken with them as a gratuity after aggressively convincing Horgan to discontinue his fermented slime line. She offered the mug to Merilwen, who waved a hand in front of herself emphatically.

“No, I don’t want to drink the poor baby slimes…” The rest became too high-pitched and tearful to translate.

“I’ll drink the poor baby slimes.” Dob grabbed the mug and necked half of it, much to Merilwen’s chagrin. “Anyway, what snapped you out of it? Was it hitting your head again?”

Corazón wrinkled his nose and shook his head. “Don’t know. I know I got really mad when whatsisname called me a fake pirate, and I wasn’t having that.”

Prudence’s eyes lit up. “Ohh, spite! Literally the one thing we didn’t think to try!”

“Well,” said Dob, passing Corazón his mended teacup topped off with beer, “I think we’ve all had a chance to learn something about friendship and patience and being true to ourselves.”

Egbert poured himself a pint. “I haven’t learned anything.”

“I have.”

Everyone looked at Corazón. “Have you?” Dob asked.

“Yep.” Corazón took a sip of beer from the teacup. “We are absolutely terrifying.”

Merilwen nodded sagely.

“Yeah,” Prudence said dreamily. “It’s good.”

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to my room, and I’m not coming out again until my good facial hair is back.” The door to the captain’s quarters slammed behind Corazón.

And that is the story of how the Oxventurers brought down a corrupt businessman with a breakfast sandwich.

#oxventure #outside xbox #i'm supposed to be writing other things but i won't tell if you won't #anyway yes i write stories a lot i do them for a living #please read them #i love approval from strangers

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crystalstar8 · 3 years

Text

Knights of the Night (ch 13)

Chapter 13

Ch 1, ch 2, ch 3, ch 4, ch 5, ch 6, ch 7, ch 8, ch 9, ch 10, ch 11, ch 12, ch 13

https://archiveofourown.org/works/29139240/chapters/71536491

pairing: Jungkook x oc

genre: vampire au, college au, twilight, romance

word count: 2,206

warnings: blood (obviously), kidnapping, child kidnapping, needles, France

notes: vampires, vampire au, college, college au, so many twilight references, blood, needles, kidnapping, children, homelessness, dance, ballet, flashbacks, romance, slow burn, probably no smut, idk yet tho, France, French things, attempted genocide, inaccurate French history, bisexual main character, @strawberriewithchocolate-blog @mozy-j @daechwitad-2 @zobadak

summary: Catalina starts college in a small town all the way across the country. She doesn’t know anyone and isn’t exactly looking for friends. She just wants to focus on dance. But when she meets fellow dance major, Jimin, and adventurous, fellow freshman, Jungkook, Catalina ends up discovering a whole new side to the small college town; one that is dangerous but oh so enticing…

(Okay, this woman is way too glamorous, but it was the closest I could find to the dress and general physical appearance)

As Christmas grew closer, Catalina wondered if she should visit her mother more and more. This was the first time being away from her so long, but her mother never said anything about buying her a plane ticket, and Catalina most certainly couldn’t afford one. She was also nervous about travelling alone, now that two more people had gone missing.

But before she had to worry about Christmas, she had her first official date with Jungkook to worry about. They were both broke and extremely busy with final exams and work. But as soon as Christmas break began, both of their schedules opened up. Catalina wanted to be the one to ask him out first, so she invited him over for a movie night one night, getting ahold of a nice bottle of wine ahead of time. The movie she chose was C.H.U.D., a perfectly mediocre film that wouldn’t distract them from each other. Once the movie was set up, all Catalina had to do was wait.

She made herself comfortable on her bed, still just a mattress on the ground, and pulled out her phone. She ended up just swiping back and forth on her home screen, glancing at the front door constantly. Jungkook had her only spare key, so he should be walking in any moment. She opened Twitter, scrolled down her feed without reading anything, then glanced at the door again. She opened her messages and read a text from her mom. Something about keeping pepper spray on her and being careful walking alone. Another glance at the door.

She closed all her apps and set her phone down with a deep sigh. She needed to get a handle on herself.

The sound of a key rattling and the front door opening made Catalina leap from her bed. Jungkook stepped into the apartment and closed the door behind him. Snow was dusted in his hair and on his shoulders, which melted as he toed off his boots and took his coat off.

“Hey,” Catalina greeted him as she approached. “How are the roads?”

She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and hugged him tight before he could answer.

“They weren’t bad, but I walked here,” he said, pulling her close with his arms around her waist. Catalina leaned back and kissed him, threading her fingers into his hair. She froze.

“What…” she mumbled against his lips, combing through his hair and feeling the freshly shaved sides underneath. She felt him smile.

“Do you like it?” he asked. Catalina pulled away further and pushed his long hair away from his face, eyeing the undercut that definitely wasn’t there the last time she saw him.

“H- you…” Catalina let out a strangled sound before clearing her throat. Then she whispered, “It’s fucking sexy.”

He laughed and kissed her hard, her hands back in his hair, and one of his hands finding its way up her back under her shirt.

Catalina groaned and said, “We need to stop before I ruin my plans for tonight.”

“Oh?” Jungkook raised an eyebrow.

“Yes. We have a movie to watch,” she said, pulling him over to her mattress, where her laptop was set up with the movie ready to play. They got settled and she pressed play on the movie, pouring two glasses of wine. A few minutes into the movie, Jungkook turned to Catalina and said, “Was your plan really to just watch this movie? Because it kind of sucks.”

“No,” said Catalina. “I wanted to ask you if you wanted to go out to dinner with me this week sometime. I was thinking De Luca’s.”

“You’re gonna wine and dine me?” he asked, his big eyes softening. Catalina nodded. “Of course! I’ve never been to that place before, but I hear it’s amazing. I’d love to go with you.”

Catalina couldn’t contain the smile that took over her face.

“And then after dinner,” Catalina continued. “You’ll drive me home since I don’t have a car-“

Jungkook laughed.

“And I’ll kiss you goodnight before you leave,” she finished.

“All proper,” he said. Catalina nodded. “And then on our second date, when I wine and dine you, I’ll drive you home, because I have a car and you don’t, and I’ll kiss you goodnight-“

“And then you’ll come inside with me and I’ll sit right here, just like this,” Catalina interrupted, getting up to straddle his thighs. “And then I’ll tug on your hair like this…”

She gripped his hair tight and gave it a good tug, pulling his head to the side. He let out a moan before clamping his mouth shut, his breathing getting quicker. Catalina leaned down so that her lips were just barely touching his neck.

“Because you make pretty sounds when I pull your hair,” Catalina continued. “And then…who knows what will happen?”

She got off his lap and returned to her spot cuddled up to his side.

“But I’ll do all that stuff after our second date,” she said. “Because I know we’re both not into casual sex, and fucking after the first date is tacky.”

“You’re evil,” he said, his voice breathy but a smile on his face. Catalina giggled and cuddled closer.

“You love it,” she said. “I mean, in the meantime, we can just make out. Because this movie does kind of suck.”

“Is that why you chose it?” Jungkook asked, raising an eyebrow. Catalina couldn’t get enough of him doing that, it was so sexy.

“Maybe,” she said, pulling him down.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Catalina was being chased again. She was too slow, her feel dragging and her body not responding to her commands. Namjoon was above ground, if she could get to him, he’d protect her. She made it to the tunnel and the metal ground clanged under her feet. Too loud, too loud! But she couldn’t slow down or else they’d catch her. She looked behind her. Jungkook was supposed to be following her, but he wasn’t there.

“Don’t stop now, kitty,” Jungkook’s voice echoed in the tunnel. “They’re going to eat you if you stop moving.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

She rarely got mail, unless it was bills or brochures from the college, so when Catalina saw an envelope sealed with a wax seal in her mailbox, she ran as fast as she could up to her apartment to read it.

She dumped the rest of her mail on the kitchen counter and tore the letter open. The paper inside was yellowed with age, but heavy and high quality. It was an invitation, from Taehyung, to a Christmas party at the mansion. The party was a week before Christmas, so Catalina still had some time to figure out what she was going to wear. She didn’t bring anything fancy with her when she moved, so she would need buy something.

Before the party, she went shopping with Jimin and Hoseok, both of whom also needed outfits. Catalina ended up buying a long, red dress. It was backless with long sleeves, tight fitting to her figure with a wide collar that left room for a necklace. A long slit in the skirt up the back almost reached the dip in the back. When she tried it on at the mall, the boys said that “it was sexy and Jungkook has a thing for red.” Hoseok told her not to buy a necklace because he had something for her to wear.

Anyway, she was excited to show it off. The party was going to start at eight in the evening, but Jungkook drove Catalina and Jimin to the mansion around noon. They hung out, helped decorate the house, and then a few hours before the party was to start, they all went to separate rooms to get themselves ready.

Catalina was just finishing up her makeup in one of the guest rooms and getting ready to put her dress on when a knock came at the door. She opened it to find Hoseok standing outside.

“May I come in?” he asked.

“Sure,” said Catalina, stepping aside for him. He walked in and handed her a velvet rectangular box. “Is this it?”

He nodded.

“It’s from my mom,” said Hoseok. “I saw her a few days ago and told her about you and Jimin and Jungkook. She said you could borrow this for the party.”

“Your mom lives around here?” Catalina asked. She never thought about Hoseok’s family. She supposed she should have assumed some of his relatives were still alive, since he wasn’t actually that old. She wondered if his mother knew he was a vampire, but she figured his mother would have to. Hoseok wouldn’t have aged in many years.

“Yeah, after my dad died, she moved here to spend more time with me,” said Hoseok. Catalina opened the box. A pearl necklace shone back at her.

“Oh my goodness,” she whispered. “Is she sure?”

Hoseok nodded.

“Tell her thank you for me,” said Catalina.

“You can tell her yourself,” said Hoseok. “She’ll be at the party tonight. My sister will be here too.”

With that, he left Catalina to finish getting ready. As much as she found Hoseok to be mysterious and even suspicious sometimes despite his sunny personality, Catalina was looking forward to meeting his mother and sister. Maybe they could give some insight on the secretive dancer.

Catalina’s normally long, dark wavy hair was curled into smooth ringlets. She twisted it up into an updo as best she could with hanging strands. She fastened her hair in the back with a jeweled clip. Her hosiery was tight and uncomfortable, but when she put her dress on, it made her body look smooth and seamless, her matching red lingerie properly hidden. The pearl necklace completed the look and Catalina couldn’t stop looking at herself in the full-length mirror. Her dark curls framed her face, which was made up to make her dark eyes look bigger and sharper. Her makeup was light, just enough to make her bronze skin look flawless. The dress accentuated all her curves, and she could barely see her back in the mirror, but the dip came down dangerously low. The lace sleeves didn’t keep her warm, but they were delicate and elegant.

Catalina couldn’t wait to show off her dress, and she couldn’t wait to see the boys in their suits.

When Catalina came downstairs, Jin and Jimmy K had arrived and were in the foyer making conversation with Namjoon, along with a handsome stranger. All of them stopped talking to stare at her. She felt her face heat up. Jimmy K approached and held out a hand as she came down the last few steps.

“You look incredible,” he said.

“Jimmy K, I’m not at this party alone,” she said with a smirk.

“I know,” he said. “Save me a dance though, would you?”

“Sure,” said Catalina. “Where’s Jungkook?”

“He was still getting ready, last I checked,” said Namjoon. “He should be down any minute.”

Catalina looked at the stranger and Namjoon jumped in to introduce her.

“Catalina, this is Dr. Vera Carlisle,” he said. “She’s a professor at the university I used to teach at.”

Dr. Carlisle smiled and shook hands with Catalina. She had short, styled hair and was wearing a smart suit. Namjoon leaned in to say quietly, “Dr. Carlisle is the one who helps us get blood from the blood bank.”

“Isn’t that like, taking blood away from patients who need it?” Catalina asked.

“We have a lot of volunteers who give blood for exactly these situations,” said Dr. Carlisle. “There’s a bit of a community around the vampire life and, not surprisingly, people are infatuated with it.”

Catalina had so many more questions, but at that moment, everyone looked to the staircase. Catalina followed their gazes and she let out a gasp. She couldn’t believe how good Jungkook looked. He seemed to be coming down the stairs in slow motion, at least that’s how Catalina saw it. His suit was black with red accents, and instead of a tie, he wore delicate gold chains looped under the collar. His hair was slicked back, revealing the shaved undercut and he might have even been wearing a slight amount of makeup around his eyes, making them a bit darker than usual. Catalina let go of the breath she was holding when he reached the bottom of the stairs.

“Guk, you look…” Catalina couldn’t even find the right word. “I love…this is…”

Jungkook smiled at her and said, “You too, Cat.”

He let Catalina take his hand and pull him closer. They were alone in the foyer now, so Catalina had no reservations about leaning in and placing a kiss on his neck, right under his ear. Her red lipstick left a kiss-shaped stain on his skin.

“So that everyone here will know who you belong to,” said Catalina.

Jungkook’s face was bright red and he sounded breathless as he said, “You should just get a collar for me next time.”

Catalina raised an eyebrow. She wasn’t expecting that response, but she found herself dwelling on the thought for the rest of the night.

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deeisace · 3 years

Text

Well that was an odd dream

The Oxfam I used to work at had been converted into like a four-storey shop with a twinkly-lights sorta cafe-bar on the ground floor, then books and clothes upstairs (as opposed to the shop being one floor and the basement full of Halloween costumes, with a bunch of unconnected offices upstairs)

Anyway, I was there, and a little bit like, what happened,,, and a person came downstairs and was like, hey you want a tour

So I was like, sure, I don't know what I'm doing here

So we went up these rickety back servants stairs, past the book floor and the clothes floor and up into the attic I guess??

And this person, they had set up one of the rooms like, idk like a 1990s sorta little girl's very pink bedroom, but like it was a museum showroom, y'know, except that she'd also put a poster of Kirsten Vangsness,, underneath the fluffy rug?? Idk - apparently they were sposed to make like a boy's version of the room too, but was only just finishing the girl's version

And we just sat on the bed and talked a while, and they gave me some books, then I heard someone calling her so they had to go downstairs back to work, and was very nervous of it

Anyway, I made my way downstairs with my pile of books, and stopped at a landing to rearrange so I didn't drop them - the landing had a short bookshelf, with the wall open behind it into the book floor, and I found a tiny little book - sort of Alison Bechdel-y, more maxineharlow -ish, I'll have to see if I can copy the one ballpoint-pen-drawing page I can remember (formless blob labelled man, different formless blob labelled woman, messy cartoon of a person with spiky hair and glasses labelled Kai in shaky capitals) - anyway while I was looking at this little 2-inch square book, and rearranging so that my large reference book was on the bottom and the paperbacks on top (one appeared to be a boarding school sorta book, and another had a cover in the same style as the Iain Banks books I've got, and another's cover and spine were completely blank), the workers on the other side noticed me, and asked I was alright - I was, just rearranging (gestured with my books, smiling), so they went back to their convo

Which was gossip about the person I'd just met, and they'd been sacked just then, because apparently she'd done that before, brought people up to that room - for other activities than talking about books

Huh. Maybe my brain is giving me metaphors now, idk

Anyway I was like,, oh damn, better carry on down these stairs huh

Somehow, tho I didn't stop on the clothes floor, I acquired two blankets on my way down

Then for some reason I bypassed the till, and went and dumped all my stuff on the cafe table of the manager of the place (not the guy I worked for, some business-y woman, idk) - who understandably was like, who're you, what the hell, the tills are over there (the "you fucking dipshit" being strongly implied but not stated)

And I was like, dream-logically I guess, like, nah I didn't want anything, it's just I used to work here

Oh you did? When was that?

About two years ago? It's changed a lot since then

Oh so I guess you wouldn't want to hear, how about you come back to work here, d'you fancy covering Thursday for someone

*incredibly awkward panicky laugh, speed-gathering my things*

I'll take that as a no?

And then I woke up before I got to the till

#i have weird fuckin dreams

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nicistrying · 3 years

Note

19, 24, 26! ☺️

19 -If you aren't religious, do you wish you were? Why?

Right so this is a weird one bc if I'm being totally honest, I've been avoiding all things to do with faith / religion for the past year. I was brought up Catholic which was obviously frustrating bc I'd be like oh right we love everyone! Why is my school telling us it's a sin to be gay tho :/ So then I met my now boyfriend Matthew and he was brought up more widely just "Christian", no particular denomination, and we talked a LOT about faith and stuff bc I had turned my back on the Catholicism bc it just didn't make any sense to say yeah I agree with Jesus we should be nice to everyone! But not the poor, or sex workers, or LGBTQ+ people, or people with mental health problems.. the people he literally spent his life helping. But here was this nice guy and his nice family saying actually people misread / mistranslate / misunderstand / manipulate / ignore messages in the bible all the time and there's a lot of it we take for granted but we should really actually question it and consider it for ourselves and keep in mind the context and the fact that it's not The Magical Word Of God but a load of letters written by people who thought (or claimed) they were writing what God had told them and also were sometimes just writing to each other to check in and give advice specific to their specific community, and like you have to be so critical about it and I do really value a good supportive church group where those questions and discussions are welcomed. It helps me to keep an open mind and is encouraging to see other people do the same bc obviously there are some awful, horrible people who call themselves Christians as an excuse to be racist or whatever (I don't understand why or where the white supremacy thing comes from bc the dudes in the bible were, ya know, Not White). But then I'm busy now and I don't make time to properly consider what my faith is or where it is right now BUT to actually answer the question, even though I'm guilty of making zero effort to work on my own faith whatever that may or may not be, I don't think I wish I was religious bc it can be so easy to become narrow minded if you get into certain circles, and I think we all need to be as open minded as possible these days

24 - Do you think you really understand your gender and sexuality?

I'm not sure tbh. I mean I guess I identify as female but I also like the idea of just being a Person, irrespective? But not so much that I'm uncomfortable if people call me she/her. And I don't think I do fully understand my sexuality, sometimes I think maybe I could be bi bc I really fancy some girls but then I kind of talk myself out of it bc I happen to be in a heterosexual relationship and am way more attracted to men? I'd feel like a fraud if I started saying I was bi lol. But again I'm happily in my relationship so it's kind of irrelevant anyway? Does it matter if I also sort of fancy girls a bit? I don't think so. I know it's just because I'm very lucky not to have had any difficulties growing up and also that I've been in a male / female relationship for 5 years but I feel very chill about gender and sexuality. Maybe bc my mam came out as gay and married a woman when I was young and I spent half my time with them. Like I learned early on that the people are so much more important than any label

26 - What's the most life-changing decision you've made so far?

The decision to end the cycle of shitty parenting / family relations in general. I don't have to miserably chase after my shitty parents' love or attention bc I won't get it! Who cares? My older sister very clearly decided she would let it go no further and she is the most awesome, loving, encouraging mother I know. Like she carves out quality time with her kids on the regular and she makes the world so magical for them bc it never was for her, and watching her do that so deliberately and positively had a big influence on me as a teenager. So as soon as I moved out I decided to do the same, leave the trauma and pain there with them. Obvs that's so much easier said than done and I'm addressing the daddy issues with a therapist for a reason but my outlook on it is much more positive and it's so liberating!

Thanks for asking, I've been up since 3.30am so I really do apologise for rambling on so much, I hope some of it makes some sense 😂

#ask #thanks!#deep questions #worrying i'm gonna offend someone but genuinely i dont mean to unless you use your 'faith' as an excuse for shitty behaviour to others

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wall-maria-fritz · 3 years

Text

The Wingman (Erwin Smith x Marie)

Chapter 2: The Deal

Reposting this because I am officially overhauling my @levi-lives blog, in lieu of this one because SOMEONE Tumblr won't let my posts show up from there anymore! grrrr.

@levi-lives blog is still up tho, if you would like still see my original posts

The Wingman: MASTERLIST

Summary: Before Erwin Smith and Nile Dawk became respected commanders of the Scouting Legion and the Military Police, they were good friends during their cadet days at the 92nd Cadet Corps. They, along with Mike Zacharias, were young, full of vigor, on the rise to greatness, and had a taste for women and booze.

And they all planned to join the coveted ranks of the Military Police.

But when Nile asked Erwin to write his love letters for a woman named Marie, Erwin starts thinking that maybe even a man like him could dream of falling in love.

Nile once scoffed at Erwin at how he could trade Marie for a life of Titans and death. And this is why.

A/N: I’ve decided to add in the songs I’ve written to to each chapter! I hope it’ll help you lovelies enjoy The Wingman more 💙For this chapter, it’s Trostpflaster by Die Lieferanten

Chapter 2: The Deal

“Marie?” Nile was absolutely right, Erwin thought. She is gorgeous. Perhaps even more so now that she’s lost some of the remaining baby fat she had back when she first walked into Erwin’s senior Philosophy class. He’s never seen a woman walk so regally without even trying. Her fiery ginger curls bounced with every step, and her bright hazel eyes held so much pride in them. If Erwin were to be completely honest, he would’ve been a little intimidated if it wasn’t for the cute freckles she had sprinkled all over her rosy cheeks. He soon found out that she was in fact, a freshman and was taking Philosophy on an advanced level. And that certainly made the man raise a thick eyebrow.

Back at his time at The College of Wall Rose, the two never really interacted much outside of the occasional bumps in the classroom. They ran amongst very different circles of friends, and Marie was relatively quiet and liked to keep to herself.

But nonetheless, Erwin definitely noticed her.

Though, that was three years ago. Erwin doubted Marie would still remember him now.

“Erwin?”

Or maybe she would, Erwin smirks.

Marie’s hazel eyes were bewildered. She was like a deer caught in the headlights. Suddenly, she was back at Wall Rose. Everything around her was new and foreign. Everyone around her in silk and top hats. And the handsome prodigy that is Erwin Smith, catching her curious eyes.

Nile looked between his friend and the pretty girl who’s name he now knew.

“You two know each other?”

Marie’s hazel eyes flash to the man who just spoke.

“You again?!”

Nile immediately flashed her his megawatt smile. “Hey, Marie.”

The ginger girl just exasperatedly placed a hand to her temple.

“Just. Who ordered the whiskey?”

Erwin lazily raised a large hand, his deep baritone answering, “I did.”

Marie gracefully set down his glass of whiskey, placing a slender hand to her small waist. “Anything else?”

“Yeah.” Nile responds, “How did you and Eyebrows here know each other?” Marie looked visibly amused at the nickname, her hazel eyes shifting over to Erwin. “Eyebrows, huh? That’s a good one!” Marie laughed gleefully, her silky voice making both men stop for a moment to gaze at the seemingly flawless way she threw her head back. And if Erwin and Nile didn’t know any better, they would’ve looked slack jawed and stupid at the sight. One thing was for sure, this one of a kind girl certainly did not belong in a bar.

But the moment was gone almost as fast as it came.

Marie looked to Nile to answer his question. “Eyebrows and I were Philosophy classmates at the College of Wall Rose.”

Nile snapped his head to Erwin. “College of Wall Rose? I knew you were some fancy shmancy college kid but the College of Wall Rose?”

Erwin just quietly drank from the glass of whiskey Marie just brought him.

“He never told you? He was class valedictorian!” Something about the way Marie said that so proudly made Erwin want to grin. Instead he just smirks behind his glass, as Nile wryly answered, “I’m not surprised, he’s always been such a nerd.” At that, Erwin chuckles, “Well that was three years ago.” His handsome face turned to Marie. “ You’re probably already graduating this year, so what’s a college girl like you doing in a place like this?”

Marie’s face fell. And Erwin immediately wanted to kick himself for asking such a stupid (shocking, I know) question. The ginger’s previously cheery disposition suddenly changed to a guarded one, as she took the tray she’s placed on the table, into her hands.

“I could ask you the same. What’s a former Alphaman of Delta Chi doing in some dingy bar in the middle of Wall Maria?” Marie’s striking hazel eyes flashed at Erwin’s clear blue ones.

“Bloody hell Erwin, you were in a frat?!”

Both Erwin and Marie ignored Nile’s shock, as the barmaid continued. “I’m not sure if you noticed, but there aren’t very many sorority girls to mess around with over here.”

“Marie, I didn’t mean to—“

“Marie! What are you doing taking my table!”

Marie watched as Elena came sauntering over, clearly having applied some extra rouge and lipstick. She gave Marie a dirty look as she draped herself over Erwin’s lap.

The barmaid couldn’t understand why, but she felt her chest constrict in disappointment.

But how could she forget?

Marie thinks, remembering exactly what he was ever since she knew of him as a newcomer in Wall Rose— a charmer, a playboy. Trouble. She locked eyes with Erwin.

“Of course. What was I thinking?”

She looked to Elena when the brunette asked her to repeat what she said. Marie shook her head, “Sorry, Elena. I didn’t know. I just saw the order at the board and thought I’d bring it to them faster. They’re all yours tho!” The woman turned to walk away, head held high, fiery curls bouncing in each step.

“Wait, Marie!”

A hand held her wrist, stopping her in her tracks. She turned back, expecting to find Erwin.

But no. It’s just the dark haired drunk who wouldn’t stop asking to buy her a drink or at least give him her name. He certainly gave her his and if she remembers correctly, Marie thinks it was Nile.

“Listen. Marie, I don’t care what you’re doing here, but it’s a nice warm evening out. Let me—“

The ginger placed a finger to his lips to shush him. This close to him, Marie noticed that Nile, with his messy dark hair, 5 o’clock shadow, and the thick eyelashes framing sincere silver eyes, did have a rugged charm to them. But they were nowhere near as handsome as Erwin Smith’s fine golden hair, intelligent blue eyes and sharp jawline.

Marie frowned when she realized just where her train of thought went.

“Nile right? I’m very flattered. Truly. But as you can see,” she gestures around her, as Nile instead lets his heavy-lidded silver eyes rove down the sight of her. Marie let her ginger hair fall freely, framing her face with bouncy waves of curls. Her tall and willowy figure was hidden behind a typical barmaid’s attire of a peasant dress and an apron. And yet somehow, Nile thinks, she still looks gorgeous.

“...I’m very busy and I don’t really have time to go out.” Marie narrowed her eyes when she noticed the man openly checking her out. “So if you aren’t ordering anything else from me, I’ll go ahead.” At that, Marie swiftly turned on her heel and walked away, leaving a very disheartened Nile behind.

—————

“Let it go, Nile. College of Wall Rose?” Mike whistled, “ It sounds like she’s way too out of your league anyways.” Mike then grunts as his large fingers struggled to clean off the gunked up oil from the tiny nooks and crannies of his 3DMG’s gear shift.

It was yet another sweltering hot April afternoon, and the three cadets were tasked to do gear maintenance by Commander Müller. He thought that his top three cadets in the running for the first ranks of the Top Ten could do themselves some good by practicing their hand at gear management.

Just kidding! Müller was just being an old fucker, and thought that it would be fun to watch Derek Smith’s brother bust his ass over a job he isn’t even supposed to do.

“But I had her right there! She was laughing, and talking to us…” Nile briefly blew on the metal grips of his gears to polish it.

“If only Commander Genius here didn’t drive her away!” Nile huffed at Erwin.

But Mike nudged him as the man grins, “Aw cheer up, Scruffy! Forget about her. By the end of the summer, once we graduate and enter the Military Police, you can go have your pick of any well landed, well educated broad in Wall Sina…”

The hulking man’s eyes glinted mischievously.

“While Erwin and I will fuck the rest!”

Mike’s deep, booming laughter was cut off when the inner mechanisms of his gear conked out in disrepair. The little bolts and screws shooting out and onto the grass.

“By the fucking Walls!”

“Give me that,” Erwin sighs, having just finished fixing his own gear. He was always better at piecing together gear and machinery anyways.

“But Mike’s right, You really shouldn’t mess around with a girl like Marie.” Says the blonde man, as he made quick work with puzzling together the gears, springs and screws of Mike’s trigger mechanism.

“Says the guy who just fucked some barmaid brainless last night.” Nile scoffs bitterly. Erwin looks up from his work, handing the fixed gear to Mike. Using the back of his hand, swiped away a few strands of loose golden hair that’s fallen onto his eyes. “My point is, Marie isn’t your run of the mill kind of girl. She’s as stubborn and as prideful as they come. And she’s brighter than she lets on.” Erwin stops and grins.

“And yeah, I did fuck that barmaid brainless. Didn’t make her my bloody wife.”

Nile rolls his eyes as his two large friends chuckled together. It really was always gonna be sex and booze with these two.

“Well unlike you two dickheads, I don’t just let my dick lead me to the next pussy I sniff around. I actually wanna have something with her!” Nile says indignantly as he snaps back the protective casing of his gear.

Erwin wipes the motor oil off his hands. Carefully watching Nile, he ponders over what the ravenette just admitted.

“We know. But you aren’t gonna woo Marie with just a free drink out. Don’t waste your time, your style isn’t going to work on her. She never mentioned this, but that Philosophy class I met her at? That was a senior’s level Philosophy class and she was just a freshman.”

More than a third of the population very well couldn’t afford a College education. Some people stopped their schooling after secondary school if they were lucky. Most only finish primary school, long enough to at least be literate and be able to practice simple mathematics.

Only a few upper middle class families from Wall Rose—like Erwin’s— as well as the exorbitantly rich of Wall Sina can pay to send their kids to College. But even still, very few of these kids have enough class credits to qualify for advanced classes.

Nile’s eyes widened in amazement. “Goddamn.”

Erwin looked at his friend pointedly. “Yeah.”

Erwin and Mike heave their boxes of gears up to stash them back at the storage compartments of the gear shed. Nile did the same, handing his box to Mike, who was the tallest, to stash his gear in at a top shelf.

“Then what in Sina’s name is a girl like her doing in a bar like that?!”

Nile looked to Erwin, who just answered smugly.

“My question exactly.”

Nile shook his head and reached into his jacket pocket for a cigarette. He offers a stick each to his two friends, which they accept with grunted thanks.

“But that only makes me want her more. Shit, she’s perfect.”

Mike blew out a puff. “He hasn’t been listening.”

Erwin takes a smooth drag of his cigarette, making eye contact with Mike. “For all you know, that girl’s probably promised to some merchant in Wall Rose.” It certainly wasn’t uncommon for most of his female classmates to have already been betrothed to some minor lord, if not already married.

But Erwin knew that obviously isn’t the case with Marie. He knew that if Marie was betrothed, she wouldn’t be caught dead working as a barmaid of all things.

And by the way Nile’s eyebrows drew together, he didn’t think so either.

Nile looks over to Mike expectantly, “Well Bloodhound, how’d she smell to you?”

As much as Erwin and Nile would like to keep saying that Mike’s uncanny ability to ‘sniff people out’ disgusts them, it has proven to be accurate time and time again.

The Bloodhound smirks, “Single. I don’t smell a man on her.” The nose knows.

Nile gave a small pump of his fist. “Nice! Just what I wanted to hear!” Nile turns to Erwin, “Sorry Eyebrows, but this guy isn’t giving up that easily. If she’s a woman of eloquence and wit then I’ll get her with eloquence and wit! And you, Erwin my brother, will help me out!”

Erwin rolled his eyes and drawled. “Yes because you lack said eloquence and wit.” Nile shrugged, “Hey, we can’t all be blonde haired, blue eyed golden boys from Wall Rose. Besides, I know you’ve been itching for some good Ragako Brandy.”

Nile raised a brow cockily, “Give me until the end of the summer. If she’s in my arms by the time we graduate, then I’m going to hand you one whole bottle of Ragako Brandy!”

“In exchange for?”

“Be my wingman. Help me write letters for her.”

Mike nearly spluttered. “Fuck, you’re really gonna court this chick?”

Erwin shook his head, knowing that once Nile put his mind to something, there’s no stopping him. It was one of the reasons why they were such good friends actually. Looking at Nile, Erwin knew the man was sincere in his intentions. Perhaps for once, Erwin was relieved that his friend was such an old school hopeless romantic. Sure, Nile could be a flirt, but he was a loyal and honest man. And clearly the poor guy was smitten, and truly did want to court Marie.

And anyways, Erwin thinks, he trusts that Marie is smart enough to decide on what’s best for her.

Erwin stepped on the burnt up stump of his cigarette. “I don’t know Nile, I’m a pretty good wingman. And Ragako isn’t cheap.”

Nile grinned, finishing his own stick. “And neither is Marie.”

Author’s Note:A lot of how I portrayed Marie here, even how the boys met her, was based on @drinkyourfuckingmilk ‘s lovely portrayal of Marie at her tumblr blog! (Go check it out if you’re unfamiliar with her comics huhuhu please I have her Marie stuff saved on my phone for whenever I feel like turning my heart to mush) But don’t you worry, this Marie’s got a few more surprises up her sleeve, just you wait!

But a few things from this fic will be pulled from my own life. It’s like they say, write what you know! Say for example, Delta Chi isn’t a real frat (or at least, I don’t this so???) but it WAS the name of my the debate club I was a part of back when I was in high school!

And remember, WASH YOUR HANDS!!!

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aw-eather · 4 years

Text

Heather Watches SG1 s7ep17&18: Heroes pt1 and pt2

Watched 23/06/2020

Well here we go friends. I’m torturing myself for the sake of making y’all laugh and also because I have a LOT of feelings about this two parter and NONE of them are good. I can’t be the only one so lets see who else agrees with me!

This is about to get long and very swear word heavy so avert your eyes if you aren’t into that <3 Just letting you know I use some VERY strong language this post. I’m Australian so the word isn’t uncommon for us to use and we use it as a term of endearment in some parts too but I just wanted y’all to know.

This turned into the biggest one I’ve ever done too with 362 dot points... read if you dare

Well here we go

I’m probably gonna cry a lot

I love Saul Rubinek.

I adore him in Warehouse 13

Artie Neilson is like the dad I didn’t have

but fuck me if I don’t hate Emmet

This WHOLE two parter is pointless and just serves to kill of a character that didn’t need to die

Anyway getting into that a little early on

Fuck the defence department.

You haven’t spoken to Space Dad of Texas

The most unorthodox

JFC this ass hole

I’m calling him AssHole for the rest of the episodes

Of course they don’t want them here, he’s a dick

Hammond’s little smile

This whole episode feels sombre and sad

and we’re three minutes into the two parter

this whole thing is about to fall to shit

credits

i’m not even excited for the credits

because I’m hurting

last time I watched this I’d started crying the second it started so I’m doing much better this time

I love watching them go up the ramp to the gate

its nice

end credits

NO ONE ASKED YOU SAUL

that was a bomb

but NO ONE ASKED YOU

And Teryl Rothery as Dr. Janet Fraiser

FUCK OFF

He doesn’t have time

He’s busy

Lol coughed on his hand and went to shake Saul’s hand

dead

memos... as if Jack’s ever read one of those

Sam is so awkward

I love her so much

It is nothing short of extraodinary

she is nothing short of extraordinary and we know this

but again

NOT ONE ASKED YOU ASSHOLE

and grand empress of scifi

grand empress of my heart

goof ball

the list goes on

god she’s so awkward’

but so adorable

Thats fine

please annoy Daniel

What was it like to be dead ffs

TRANSCENDED? DID YOU PAY ANY ATTENTION???

What else is he supposed to say?! He DIED he doesn’t REMEMBER ANYTHING

Daniel’s right

Its fascinating

LOL DANIEL YOU STUPID IDIOT THATS HILARIOUS

I love Daniel when he’s pissing off people i hate

Bill <3

Personal microwave oven... nice

And its only taken you 7 years

so glad you did though

Odd that he was on fire

but we never see that happen any other times

“He does this all the time” poor Siler

Sam looks so happy when talking technobable and about her doohickeys.

I adore her

And honestly all that shits fascinating

still 32 minutes left...

honestly if it weren’t for me talking about Janets death, I’d never watch these again.

They are genuinely some of the worst episodes of SG1

I said what I said

“Sure. Its really cool. Steam comes out of it and everything”

She’s gonna kill someone

WALTER

Thats right

FUCK OFF SAUL

DOESN’T MEAN THERE WASN’T ANY GOA’ULD HERE RECENTLY

I love that they take odds

but this scene is only here to set up the character that is the reason Janet dies

because Janet shouldn’t have been off base

but we’re not going to talk about that are we?

The episode would have played out the same if this man had died

Anyone can die in war

Doesn’t matter if they’re a parent etc

but nah

we gotta -

sorry I’ll stop

SHE’S SO HOT

JACK YOU IDIOT

As if he read the memo

THERE SHOULD BE A CAKE

Obviously he can’t tell you much because he was DEAD

OMG TEAL’C

HE’S NOT SAYING A WORD

BECAUSE HE FUCKING HATES THIS GUY MORE THAN I DO

SAUL SHUT UP

LITERALLY NO ONE CARES

GO HOME

“Dr Jackson is going to die when he sees this”

“What again?”

my dude you have NO idea

This is what happens when you go poking around

you get ambushed

because it was all a fucking set up

no explination of WHO set them up tho... it was just a set up

what

joke

wooooooow

they took it out with a WALL

NOT THIS FUCKING ARSE HOLE

KINSEY JUST PISS OFF

WE DON’T LIKE YOU

WE DON’T WANT YOU

GO SUCK A ROTTEN TOMATO

EVEN SAUL IS BORED OF YOU

AND HE’S THE MOST BORING MAN I’VE EVER MET

leave Jack alone

YES JACK

Its not slander if its TRUE YOU WANKER

NO YOU HAVE NOT

PAST AND PRESENT YOU ASS

JFC

Who cares what the president wants

I am 90% sure Jack just called Kinsey a limp dick and I’ve never been prouder?

“deep and unyielding love for you, sir” SHUT UP JACK YOU GOOSE

Well Mr Bregman can such a toe

Fancy arguing with Space Dad from Texas

OH FUCK OFF SAUL

JESUS FUCKING CHRIST

NO ONE CARES

HAMMOND IS RIGHT

PEOPLE ARE GOING TO DIE IF YOU’RE THERE

PEOPLE ARE GOING TO GET HURT

YOU HAVE NO RIGT TO BE THERE

Sam joking around with Teal’c is so sweet

I love them and their friendship so much

Gah!

OF COURSE THERE IS A CHANCE THINGS WILL GO WRONG YOU NARCACISTIC FUCK

ITS LIKE TO GO MORE WRONG WITH YOU THERE

I’M SORRY I’M YELLING SO MUCH I JUST HATE HIM WITH MY ENTIRE BODY.

Well is he wrong?

Because you’re an absolute arse, thats why it doesn’t matter

Shots of your ass serve us all well O’Neill

“How do you feel about Colonel O’Neill”

She wishes to kiss him, sir.

And potentially much more but we shall no discuss that here

He is amazing

Time outside of work... what are you insinuating

Good cover

Like family

First and foremost her superior officer

Secondly your LOVER

because I pretend Pete doesn’t exist right now

OH THIS SCENE

Actually that was pretty cute Daniel

And you’re right it is fascinating

At some action?

So you can be a dick and use peoples death as entertainment?

Fuck me

His job is the inscriptions

seriously fuck this guy

I love how Sam’s face goes from he’s right its boring to aww Daniel, he didn’t :O

I love their friendship

But it nearly could have cause people like oh, I don’t know, YOUR BOYFRIEND, SAMANTHA, stalk people

shouldn’t have stayed as long as you did

if y’all hadn’t stayed

this wouldn’t have happened

Janet my love

I’m crying

wow Jack has been hurt a fuck tonne

he didn’t give permission

Saul is an ass

I’m literally fighting tears right now

I fucking love her so much

You never know what to expect but you do such a good job sweetie

I’m so proud of you

The more she talks the more proud of her I am

and the more of a loss it truly is that she goes

because she’s fucking incredible and she has so much heart

her little laugh fucking STOP

My heart is literally breaking

AND DR FRAISER

STOP

THEY WOULDN’T HAVE JUST WALKED INTO AN AMBUSH LIKE THAT ON ANY OLD DAY

WHY NOW

WHO WROTE THIS FUCKING SHIT

FUCK OFF SAUL

THIS IS RIDICULOUS

HER GIGGLE STOP I LOVE HER

SHE DESERVED MORE

DO NOT GO

JANET NO STAY

BABY

and we end there to go to part two

this episode felt weird

it feels like is a drama inside a drama does that make sense?

It kinda feels like 200

like it feels fake and like its about to cut to a shot of them sitting around a table, flabergasted and with their heads in their hands

So Robert C. Cooper wrote it

I just wanna talk buddy... just wanna talk

THEY AIRED THIS FUCKER THE DAY BEFORE VALENTIES DAY?!?! WTF SYFY?!

Alright starting episode 2

SAUL FUCK OFF YOU CAN’T BE THERE

JANET BABY DON’T GOOOOOOO

I AM CRYING

I have my pillow pet who is named Janet

She was a gag gift about 7 years ago and I was watching SG1 at the time

but also she just looked like a Janet

She’s become a staple in my life and I love her

Anyway she always gets me through these episodes

credits

still not into it right now

should have skipped them this episode tbh

end credits

Ordered chocolate cake

it arrived

i’m happy with this choice

I don’t give a fuck about them deciding what happens in the fucking video

Good answer Daniel

I could also watch Major Carter’s head talk all day

They didn’t stand a fucking chance out there

They ran into that situation totally unprepared

which they would never have done normally

this whole two parter is fucking bull shit

and then they pit Jack and Janet against each other... like who are we gonna be more upset to lose in this moment

Fuck Jack

baby noooo

I can’t take this episode ffs

Lol Walter being cute

Get out of there

You cunt

get that fucking camera off

fuck this guy

no Sam

fuck off

leave her alone

punch him in the face

oh Sam honey I’m so sorry

she lost her best friend

FUCK OF SAUL

JESUS

HER BEST FRIEND JUST DIED

SHE’S IN PAIN

YOU DO NOT GET TO DICTATE WHETHER PEOPLE GET FILMED WHEN SHE’S CLEARLY IN PAIN

I’LL TURN YOU OFF YOU FUCKING ARSE HOLE FUCK YOU

don’t sit there all upset like your day has been ruined

And now we have them making us think Jack died so that we worry about him the entire episode instead of Janet

because who cares about her right?

FUCKING WOOLSEY

I literally just screamed

i hate him

this episode can’t get any FUCKING WORSE

I also question the decision.

No offence Space Dad of Texas

but it doens’t make sense that you chose to do what you did

I’m sorry but it doesn’t

FUCK OOOOOOFFFF WOOOSLEY

Hammond visiting Carter <3

Ah Barrett

So Woolsey is a corrupt piece of shit

Whoda thunk it

I’m crying again

Poor Hammond

Poor Sam

Talking at the memorial man

OH GOOD MORE WOOLSEY

BECAUSE THIS EPISODE ISN’T GOOD ENOUGH...

Fuck him

And the truth is that you’re a dick, moving on

Daniel has a point... and I hate saying that but he has a point

I love Sam

Daniel doesn’t give a fuck

Go Daniel I’m proud of you

OH NOT SAUL AND THE F U C K I N G CAMERA

NO PISS OFF

This is cruel

to make us see her death

to show us her literal dead body was too fucking much

I’m sorry but this would have been just as powerful if Simons had died

Hes a good kid

but this would have had the same impact

I’m sick of this man

I’m sick of this shit

OH MY GOD GO THE FUCK AWAY YOU PIECE OF SHIT

Which is why you bastards should not have been in the fucking field

It was of a man dying

end of

Yeah but what they do every single day doesn’t mean show us JANETS DEATH

Sharing it with the world won’t make him feel any better about one of his best friends getting show you mole

Good, Woolsey again

suck my dick

So this guy put money values on peoples heads

and he got command of Atlantis?

Yeah fuck him I’m not watching s5 of Atlantis

to be fair $27 million is a lot of money

but its still peopls lives

fuck off you smarmy git

I would love to see him tossed out on his arse

He can do that

fuck off you don’t get to say in whether or not you’re there or have a right to be there

you’re invading on peoples privacy

you’re an ass

The Tape

Fuck the N.I.D

I actually feel really bad for Daniel

fuck you Bregman

so excited to see people’s deaths

I had to pause for a moment

because I just saw Janet die

and its cruel

We didn’t have to see her death

knowing it happened was bad enough

physically seeing her dead is like salt in the wound

Janet deserved so much more than this

hope you’re happy bregman

sam visiting Jack

hurts because i love the cute moment

but it hurts

because we shuoldn’t have had to lose janet for this

Cassie... my heart is broken

the way he looks at her when she starts crying and the hug like he has been there with her so many times

its all so sweet

and they’re so in love but they can’t have each other

its rude

Poor Simon...

Poor Sam

watching her cry is so hard

and Teal’c

guys i’m not sure i can finsih this

ok sorry I’m back

Gotta pick up Cassie

Cassie 100% lived with Sam right?

Oh Teal’c... i love you so, so much you sweet angel

and the little hug.. their friendship is beautiful

I’m so sick of Bregman at this point

and them being in the room where Daniel died, where Jack chose to get his symbiote, where they saved Cassie and Sam and countless others, where they helped Teal’c

Janet was so strong, so wise

oh Daniel... I’m sorry

It does but others don’t need to see it Daniel

Oh fuck I’ll be back after the memorial

its such a beautiful memorial

and Im glad they chose Sam to talk

I’m gonna say some more in my final notes

its hard right now with the tears

I still think you’re an absolute arse, Saul

This was kinda sweet actually

oh they named the baby Janet

i’m never gonna stop crying

Oh Jack

he’s so unimpressed

what a stupid way to end it

sorry but that was shit

Final thoughts

i genuinely hate these episodes. I honestly don’t think I’ll ever watch them again. Even with another watch through.. they’re not as well written or directed as other episodes, they’re unbelievable in the cannon of the show and breaks their own rules, not to mention the sheer heartbreak

Bregman is one of the most unlikeable characters in the show. If Simmons had of been alive he could have been in the episode too just to add to the trifecta of cunts!

Cassie should have been at the memorial

they make you think Jack is dead so we won’t worry about janet to what? make it more of a shock? because it doesn’t work. It should never have been designed to make us feel relief at Janet’s death because it wasn’t Jack! It doesn’t do her justice.

Janet Fraiser was a smart woman with a massive heart. She was brave and strong and she cared for everyone even when they were arseholes. She had a bit of fun with SG1 sometimes too. She was an incredible Dr, mother and friend. Janet was tiny but tough. Something that i aim for. I’m 5ft2 so basically the same as Janet and believe it or not i’ve had people question my ability to be a good teacher because noone will take me seriously. Janet always made me feel like people would take me seriously and that even though I’m small, I can do big things. She encouraged me to be a good person with a heart of gold. Her death hits really hard for that reason. but also because she was an incredible character who deserved more than what she was given. Hardly any screen time and then murdered to make some sort of point that didn’t need making??? Not to mention she’s mentioned twice in the next three seasons and when she “comes back” in Ripple Effect she spends almost no time with Sam which makes exactly 0 sense.

Someone recently said they heard she was killed because the writers didn’t know how much more time they had and wanted to wrap some stuff up? Lets not forget that they made the end of this season a huge cliff hanger... but I’m still not sure what we could wrap up with her death? She had a fucking child!

Any way I won’t be watching this again. I’m sorry this isn’t much fun but hopefully you’ve got a giggle out of me swearing at the idiots

I love you all for reading this and supporting me posts, they’re usually pretty fun to make honestly!

#Stargate #Stargate SG1 #SG1: Heroes pt1 #SG1: Heroes pt2 #SG1 #Samantha Carter #Jack O'Neill #Janet Fraiser #Teal'c #Daniel Jackson #Michael Shanks #Teryl Rothery #Christoper Judge #Amanda Tapping #ATapps #Richard Dean Anderson #RDA #mudblood-and-proud watches

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inkjackets · 3 years

Text

30 Questions About Me

thanks for tagging me @apopcornkernel and @authenticcadence18!!!

Name: clare

Gender: cis female

Star sign: virgo

Height: 168cm (5′6″)

Time: 9:40pm

Birthday: 8th september

Fave band/group: hmm i don’t really have favs but recently i’ve been listening to a lot of Oh Wonder and ANIMA!

Fave solo artists: again no real favs but right now i’m loving dodie and mxmtoon

Song stuck in my head: ah now i’ve mentioned mxmtoon i’ve got ‘no faker’ stuck in my head haha

Last movie: uhhhh either the muppets christmas carol or the greatest showman, can’t remember which was last, but im literally about to watch the live action mulan for reasons

Last show: Normal People

When did I create this blog: uhhhh hold up lemme check... April 2016! ugh i’ve been in this fandom too long aha

What do I post: mostly ml reblogs and stuff but i write and post fics too! (especially over the last year, i think i wrote more last year than the previous three years combined lmao) i also post the odd bit of art :)

Last thing I googled: uh how to work out averages in excel haha (i’m trying to track my writing progress this year)

Other blogs: @inkjackets-original!! this is a blog for my original short stories and pieces of flash fiction :D

Do I get asks: yeah sometimes! especially when I reblog ask games or ask for fic requests, i’ll always get a couple <3

Why I chose this url: so back in the year 2016 i fell stupidly hard into a stupid show called Miraculous Ladybug and through it i discovered FANFICTION (i’d like obvs heard of it before, but never engaged with it) and anyway after a while reading amazing fics i discovered to my horror/delight that i wanted to WRITE IT TOO sooooo i decided to create a tumblr! and since this was intended to be a sort of writing blog i wanted to come up with a writing/book related username and came up with inkjackets – after all books are just pages of ink wrapped in dust jackets! (though like i said before until last year i never actually did much writing lol)

Following: 802

Followers: 415 <3

Average amount of sleep: anywhere between 6-10, it changes daily

Lucky number: i don’t really have one? i usually just say 7. or 13 if i’m feeling controversial hahaha

Instruments: i don’t really play anything :( but i like to sing! i’m nothing special but i’ve always been a part of school choirs and stuff :)

What I’m wearing: thick long-sleeved stripy top and dungarees

Dream job: ah a question i still hate at the age of 25 (: i seriously have no idea!! part of me wants to be an author and have a chill time writing in the countryside all day, but i also love being outdoors and would love to continue being an activity instructor doing fun and adventurous things forever, but then i also want to get a fancy job in the city running around being busy and important!! i just want to do a bit of everything you know?

Dream trip: i’d love to do rural asia, especially china, to see all the cool mountains and beautiful scenery they have there

Fave food: noodlesssss!! give me any sort of asian noodle dish and i’ll love you forever

Nationality: British and Australian

Fave songs: hmm some songs i never get bored of are ‘Boys Like You’ by dodie, ‘Who We Are’ by Imagine Dragons and ‘Blood’ by ANIMA!. right now i’m also obsessed with ‘Undertow’ by Lisa Hannigan (who, fun fact, voices blue diamond in su!)

(bonus song: i’ve also been listening to ‘walk but in a garden’ by mxmtoon so much recently cause it gives such good lockdown chill vibes)

Last book I read: Children of Time by Adrian Tchaivosky, a really really well done (if kinda unsettling) sci-fi novel, but ngl i want to talk about the book i read before that which is An Absolutely Remarkable Thing (and its sequel) by Hank Green which was FANTASTIC like hands down one of the best books i’ve read in a long time and if you’re looking for something fun and easy while also tackling serious real world problems (like the dangers of social media) then i HIGHLY recommend it, like honestly even if that’s not something you’re looking just go read it anyway!!!

Top 3 fictional universes I’d love to live in: 1. Harry Potter. kinda goes without saying haha, i want to be able to do magic 2. ATLA, (like only if i’m a bender tho lol) 3. hmm Chronicles of Ancient Darkness. It was one of my fav serious as a kid and I always longed to live in that sort of intelligent pre-historic age, and the world michelle paver creates feels so damn realistic, and i just feel like i’d thrive in that sort of world, tbh (i think the adhd would help lmao)

thank you so much for tagging me!! that was loads of fun ^^ i’m not gonna tag anyone but if you want to do this game go ahead and tag me in it!!

#tag game #30 questions about me #about me #don't mind me rambling #long post

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lachlann-macnab · 3 years

Text

At Al’s Potluck

Alternative title: Backstory, friendly banter, potatoes and feels.

Dated: October 24, 2020

Lachlann MacNab Lachlann had learned rather quickly that when Seamus had said "you're a menace to society you're never driving again, not unless I'm hurt so badly I'm passed out" he'd really, really meant it and no amount of pouting and/or complaining would stop the man from driving them both to Al's Comic Barn as their respective recipes sat on the backseat. But karma had struck the man as soon they had to get out the car, since now he had to juggle his enourmous plate and the keys, a scene Lachlann found actually quite funny as he remained seated on his place, phone on one hand and dish on the other

Seamus MacTunnag it would have been much easier to balance the fucking pot if he didn't have another platter along with it. Stovies and oatcakes were easy to make, especially for large amounts of people, but that meant having more than was necessarily manageable. Lachlann was pouting in the car and, thus, unhelpful. Finally shoving his keys in his pants pocket, the brunet picked up the second tray he'd set carefully on the hood of the Roadster. "Yer no help, ye know that?" He shook his head and mumbled under his breath about a grown man being a brat all because he wasn't allowed to drive before he nodded to the door. "Hands're otherwise occupied. Care the get th' door at least?"

Lachlann MacNab "That's a lot of complainin' for someone that generally insists on doing everything himself, Mister Mac T" Lachlann replied with a grin, making sure his phone was set to airplane mode (having figured before that receiving any message during the event would be a faux pas) and using the little moment to also make sure he'd actually closed Spotify, not wanting a certain other playlist to accidentally...well, play after the "driving" one had finished. "Yeah, yeah, I'm getting the doors. I'm still surprised you decided to actually come, tho'" he said, now being the one doing some juggling

Seamus MacTunnag "An' that's a lot o' lip comin' from a man who sat an' watched 'cause he wasna allowed tae drive," Seamus quipped back, smiling winningly as he waited. Lachlann fiddled with his phone for a moment before shoving it in a pocket then reached for the door. "Thank ye kindly," he murmured, brushing past the other as he strode through the doors. "An' 'course I would, Lachie. I try tae at least go tae one or two o' these every year. Get a feel fer th' candidates." McWiggin was a native to the town, ran a small business, and seemed concerned with the community as a whole. It would be smart to look into him, at the very least. "'Sides, I havena cooked fer a large group in a while. Seemed th' thing tae do. Old family favorite, an all."

Lachlann MacNab Lachlann didn't have a counterpoint for that, so he decided to stick his tongue out at the other man and take that L as he made sure the car's doors were closed, Al's were opened and his own pot of Chili Macaroni (Vegan, mind you) remained secure on his hands. "Louie says Al 's a pretty cool dude and I think he did well during the first debate" Lachlann nodded "you rootin' for him, Mister Mac T? or are you more interested on the food? Like, I think he's done great so far but, well, I'm kinda new around, so... I don't really know for certain"

Seamus MacTunnag If Seamus's hands were free, he'd have gone for Lachlann's tongue. Much like how Adelaide had done to him when she was a wee one, in fact, though the circumstances were far different. "Careful darlin'," he warned, grin hinting at the mischievous, "wouldna want ye tae lose yer tongue." Listening for a moment as he found somewhere to set the platter and pot down, Seamus hummed in acknowledgement, mind turning over what he knew. In years previous, he'd known McWiggin to be a bit of a tit, rude to women and someone who was just generally unpleasant. Seemed like he'd cleaned up his act in the past year or so, as well as he could anyway, and was hoping to turn over a new leaf. "Dunno quite who 'm votin' fer yet, in truth. 'S why I come tae these, see what they're about. He seems concerned about th' town he grew up in an' the local business, but I'd like tae see more of his stance on Magick/Mundus relations, given where we live."

Lachlann MacNab "Darlin'" Lachlann didn't know what to reply to that -at least not while in public-, even stopping for a second before deciding that the best next unrelated step was finding a place to place his pot as he nodded. "Yeah, it's kind of complicated" politics had never been an easy topic, really "Al strikes me as the most approachable candidate, like, I don't get a thing Reza talks about, Aquata is kind of initimidating and Shock..." He didn't really finish that sentence because he figured that everyone felt the same way about the youngest candidate and her blasé ways about... everything. Also, because he'd just spotted a familiar recipe. "Oh, the Beignets! Tiana must be here too!"

Seamus MacTunnag The silence was noted and smugly filed away. And over a little old thing like darlin', at that. "Aye," he agreed, eyes sweeping over the people milling about the comic shop. He'd never ben inside the place himself, but he knew Louie worked here, so he'd wanted to come down for a look-see. "Al may be approachable, but both Reza and Aquata address cohesion and Magick representation in a mixed community as well as plans to provide a more streamlined petition process. An' Adamson, well, I hardly take 'er seriously." Seamus shrugged, running a hand through his hair. After having lived with a Magick for half a decade, amidst other generational hardships, Seamus had always made it a point to look at legislation that had to do with Magicks. "Take it ye know someone around?" The name was vaguely familiar, like he'd met them previously, but he couldn't place a face to it.

Lachlann MacNab "I mean, yeah, they do" Lachlann shrugged "Like, they sound like they know what they're saying but I think that the best possible option 's having someone you know you can approach, you know? I'd get nervous by the mere thought of just getting close to Miss Triton or Reza -like, I don't think I'd ever have a reason to do so but...yeah" And he'd rather not think much about the whole Magick-Mundus things, since he still had a bittersweet feeling about the whole Moon Market fiasco. "Ah! Yeah, well- kind of! She's an acquaintance of sorts, I guess. 'nyways, what was it that you cooked, again, smoochiekins?"

Seamus MacTunnag Lachlann did have a point, yes. You had to be able to approach a council representative, or feel like you could, anyway. That was the entire point of it all, wasn't it? Granted, Seamus had cut his teeth on hardened business men and women, their unflinching values and ironclad stances. There was a different type of ability to interact there for him than there was Lachlann. "The Triton lasses ain't all bad. Adella's nice, even if she is a right pest." He smiled, thinking on the woman fondly. He'd not seen her in a while but she was one person in town he counted as a friend. "Aquata's Da was a staple of th' council. Think she's jus' tryin' tae do right by him." Both brows rose at the abrupt change of subject and the godawful nickname. His nose wrinkled involuntarily at the implementation. "That's awful, Lachie. Truly, truly awful. But 's, uh, we call it stovies an' oatcakes. Traditional Scottish fare. Me mam used tae make it a lot." He glanced down and off to the side, clearing his throat once he was through speaking, suddenly not too keen on talking about Davina MacTunnag. "Yers was, uh, vegan was it?"

Lachlann MacNab "I think I've heard about the Tritons before- I think one of them designed Loopy's favourite lipstick" he couldn't say which one, though "And I kind of recall seeing Adella's name somewhere..." He'd checked Tinder one or twice since arriving to Swynlake and vaguely recalled seeing someone with a curious name and amazing photos but, well, obviously out of his league, so he hadn't even bothered trying. And there was another reason, of course, which was currently looking fondly at his own pots. "So that's what you needed all those potatoes for!" he said with a wide smile "and here I was, thinking you were feeling like starting a farm, Mister Mac T! And, yeah, 's no big deal. You kinda just throw all the ingredients into the pot and pray for the best. It may not be anything fancy but at least I didn't burn down my kitchen"

Seamus MacTunnag It took him a moment to parse out who Loopy was but, once he had, Seamus nodded his head. "Aye, one o' 'em has a make up line I think. Adella dragged me tae th' bloody adult prom a year of so back," he mumbled, rolling his eyes and shaking his head. "She's a sweet girl. Seemed tae think I needed tae get outta th' house. Kinda like someone else I know." Yes, that was a Pointed Pause, Lachlann. "The family's from Swynlake though. Been here fer generations, I s'pose. Makes sense they'd try tae continue it." The comment about the potatoes made him pause, lips quirking up into a smile before he chuckled and shook his head. "Nope, no potato farming. My people didna do such a thing," he quipped, grin widening. "But th' Stovies feed a family fer a while, keep ye warm, all o' that. 'S a staple when ye grow up in Glasgow slums. Had tae take th' liquor outta the recipe though. Been sober around two an' a half years. Don'tcare tae cook with it neither." He hummed his acknowledgement of the other man's dish, wondering how it tasted. At least it wasn't burnt

Lachlann MacNab "Oh" Lachlann said, nodding at the comment and making a mental note about Adella being cool (even in a non-Tinder context). But at the rest of the phrase he tilted his head and bit the inner part of his right cheek "But isn't that kind of thing like...what's the word? When someone in power helps other person to achieve things- necromancy? no, eh, neo- no, nepotism?" He paused for a second, first thinking about the implications of the words and the situation he wasn't sure about, then deciding to move towards a plate full of cookies before the girl with the white dress decided to eat them all by herself. "Myesh" he said with a mouthfull of cookies "sh more like ah shtereoghtiphgical 'rish thng, nt Scottish" Wait. Slums?... " 's better that way, I guess. That way you can be the one driving, instead of having me risking everyone else's well-being, sweetipie" he joked, even if he was still curious about the comment about living in the slums once.

Seamus MacTunnag "Mm, I s'pose ye could see it that way, aye. Most dunna. From what I understand 's more--" Seamus searched for the words, brow furrowing a bit as he walked alongside the other man. Toward more food, he could see. "--a generational connection to th' town. The Triton family is rooted in Swynlake. Everyone knows 'em. Sure, it sounds like they're takin' advantage o' that an' maybe they are, but what if 's because they got th' best fer th' town at heart? I jus' tend tae look at both sides o' matters, or try tae." Rolling his eyes as the other man spoke with a full mouth, Seamus waited until he was done. "Aye. An' 'm nae fuckin' Irish." He'd had to live in the Little Ireland neighborhoods in New York for a while, mind, but that's because no one knew their arse from their head back then. Couldn't tell the difference. Some people still couldn't. Seamus swiped a cookie from the other man and took a bite before turning on his heel to take a look through the rest of the dishes, offering quiet hellos as he went. When he heard another awful nickname, Seamus turned to give Lachlann a droll look. "'M nae luggin' yer heavy arse tae th' car--" A mischievous little grin cropped up and, just to be a tit, tacked on a m'eudail for good measure, accent thickening around the familiar word.

Lachlann MacNab "Yep, 's important to try and do that, get to know both sides I mean, like the whole thing with Reza's scandal" which had surprised all of twitter, himself included. Lachlann still wasn't sure where he stood on all that and his attention was, instead, focused on the food and trying to keep his cookies away from the other's hands, anyways. But even when he swiped one away, Lachlann couldn't help but smile it off, nod and follow him in the search for something nice to munch on. "Yeah, some people think it's the same thing but that's, frankly, offensive to both nationalities" he said, having some vague knowledge about the topic, since people assumed a lot of things when they heard the MacNab surname, but he had never really mind the errors "You started it, darling. Anyways, so Stovies are kind of a family recipe, then?"

Seamus MacTunnag Seamus nodded his head, agreeing without really needing to say anything. It was true, after all. The scandal release had been a shock to everyone, but Seamus wasn't just going to judge the man like so many other people seemed to be fond of. Sorcerer or not, Magick or Mundus, all sides deserved a critical look. "'S extremely offensive, particularly when I was exposed to it." The Irish, at one point, were treated like animals. When people had believed Seamus was, he'd been given the same treatment. He'd had to learn how to defend himself and his sisters quickly. "Darlin' is a term of endearment. Whatever those other things were were nae. But yes, I s'pose so. Most everyone in th' area knew how tae make 'em, but me mam taught me. I had tae work two or three jobs growin' up but, uh, she let me help in me downtime. Da never gave a shite so--" Seamus shrugged, going a bit pinched around the eyes at the involuntary reminder of his father. "--figured I could give another pair o' hands when she needed 'em."

Lachlann MacNab This was the first time Lachlann heard about Mister Mac T's parents and- nothing about it sounded all that cool. Slums, working two or three jobs, the "Da never gave a shite"... Sure, the older man was resilient and most certainly had seen a lot of stuff before, but hearing that he'd to struggle even during childhood was kind of a harsh idea; Maybe someone that felt particularly poetic or philosophical would say that that kind of things had turned the man into the kind of person he currently was but- but Lachlann only found it kind of miserable, really, that he hadn't had the chance to just be a happy child. "Maybe you could teach Huey, Dewey or Louie how to cook it, eventually" he said, placing a hand in the other's shoulder, in an effort to cheer him up "or me. I'd be happy to learn it"

Seamus MacTunnag See, he knew what his childhood sounded like. He had lived it and it was just as shite in the telling as it had been back when he was a lad, and that had been hedging around how big of a piece of shite his father had been. Seamus snorted at the mention that the boys would learn. He turned his head to look at Lachlann's face, squeezed the hand that had landed on his shoulder."Aye, maybe Huey. Dunno about Dewey. Louie would rather food be served to him, not be made by him, so I doubt he would. But I wouldna mind it, if ye wanted tae learn. Ain't hard tae make."

Lachlann MacNab "I think Dewey would be down to clo- I mean, totally up for it" Probably. Maybe. He wasn't sure if his best friend had any interest in cooking but he figured that as long as something sounded like a fun time, he'd be up for it. Huey probably would take notes about the recipe like the very organized guy he was and- -he was absolutely correct about Louie, so there was no point in thinking about that, so he smiled and nod, then pointing towards a fancy-looking salad, as if asking the man if he wanted to try some of that (while still not letting go of his shoulder). "I wonder if we'll see Al himself. I'd really like to tell him that I admire the fact that he has Darkwing comics in stock- and also maybe give him props for making the drinking game interesting for everyone"

Seamus MacTunnag Down to clown? Really? Resisting the urge to laugh or smile at the turn of phrase (because it was awful and not at all endearing in any way whatsoever), Seamus still found himself losing the battle when his mouth twitched upward. Nodding his head at the nonverbal suggestion, the Scotsman allowed himself to be steered to the side a bit, walking in step with the other man and listening as he spoke. He'd have to remember to ask the boys if they ever wanted to learn how to cook. It would come in handy for them later, if anything. "Maybe, maybe not," Seamus murmured, a shoulder moving in a half-shrug. "Though I dunno if havin' a series o' books or tryin' tae give yah alcohol poisonin' is worthy of congratulations." Now he was just being a shit head, it was true, but it was also a fact that McWiggin had seemed to run in circles during the first debate, never really seemed to address questions that were more hard hitting when his contempories had. He had stuck to "small businesses" and "community" which, while what he was using in his campaign, should not have been the entire thing, in Seamus's opinion. But what did he know?

Lachlann MacNab "But I'm ok now" he declared, rather proud of himself "I'm dying by plane crash or not at all" Which was a joke, really; He simply didn't get (terribly) injured in any of his particular stunts so that phrase was more of a roundabout way to say "no way" than an actual - -wait. Mister Mac T wasn't supposed to know about that. Shit. "They aren't just any comic books, they are, objetively, the best comic books ever made" he said, trying to steer the conversation into another direction, then stuffing his mouth on some nearby potato salad so he could play the "sorry, I can't talk, my mouth is full" card just in case the older man didn't take the Darkwing bait. "Thish ish tashty! You shld try shome"

Seamus MacTunnag Dying by plane crash or not at all. That...that didn't sound good at all. In fact, that sounded the opposite of good. In fact, that sounded like Seamus should be worried about Lachlann flying a goddamn airplane which was, frankly, disappointing. He wanted to see how the man flew. And the fact that the other man tried to steer the conversation into a 360 didn't help any. "In a minute. We're gonna circle back tae th' plane crash thing. How many times, exactly, have ye crashed Lachlann? How accident prone are ye?" Is that why you're in Swynlake?

Lachlann MacNab Oh, Lachlann was absolutely not having that conversation -not in that place, not ever and specially not with Mister Mac T of all people. " Gee, I was only joking" he said, even if his tone was way more somber than intended "but, I guess now I know what I'm not supposed to joke about when you're around, eh?. Like, I guess that's all my fault, I know it's a serious topic and all". He decided to try and distract himself searching for a plate and filling it indiscriminately with food.

Seamus MacTunnag Ah, sore subject then. Seamus could read a room well enough by now and certainly could tell when someone didn't want to talk about something, even if it was something important. He'll, he'd done much the same more than once. It was still irritating but it was forgivable. It would be hypocritical to not be, after all. "Mmhmm," he murmured, both brows hiking ninto his hairline before offering a small smile, the kind that said 'I know you don't wanna yak about whatever that is, so I won't. Yet.' "Ye can joke around plenty. Death 's just a touchy subject, is all." Which wasn't a lie, but he wasn't going to elaborate much more just then. Instead, he picked up a small plate of his own.

Lachlann MacNab Look, Lachlann generally tried his best to take that whole topic in stride, playfully mentioning it every now and then when necessary, but discussing it (or anything vaguely related to it) with the older man was simply not going to happen, not when he held his family's talents in such high regards, not when he felt like his-their current closeness depended on what he could offer (and driving certainly wasn't it). If he didn't have a good reason to be there then- then Mister Mac T would send on his way, right? He would never bother dealing with a washed-up pilot, right? He- he deserved way better and- "'s ok. I know, I'm sorry" he finally said, voice slightly cracked. He just couldn't bear to lose the other's respect too, or the comfortable closeness they've built.

Seamus MacTunnag He heard the cracks in Lachlann's voice before they really made themselves apparent and Seamus felt his brow furrow at the sound, wondering at it. He filed it away for later, just like he did much everything else he observed about Lachlann and other people around him, to pull up and examine later on. Clearly, whatever it was, it was something the younger man didn't want to talk about, probably something with his family, if Seamus had to guess. Just a hunch but, well, MacNabs usually didn't stray far from their clan, if you will. And Lachlann was an entire ocean away from his. "Ye dunna have tae apologize, Lachie, 's alright," he said, voice pitched low so the nosy biddies around them couldn't eavesdrop. Namely, his nephew, wherever he might be.

Lachlann MacNab "Yeah, but still...." Lachlann said, trying to keep up with the conversation even if he suddenly felt quite down (so much so that the food currently on his plate suddenly didn't seem all that enticing anymore and had been reduced to a mere excuse for his movements). He just didn't want to deal with that topic. He'd rather run away. He'd rather pretend all of that wasn't even a thing. He'd rather just take his few belongings, throw 'em into his uncle's car and never look back now that people, that Mister Mac T knew about his failures. But he couldn't. Not now. He didn't want to let go of that- them- him. Not yet. "I just- could we- I'd rather talk about politics or Darkwing or Swynlake, you know?"

Seamus MacTunnag Yes, there was definitely something sore about the subject here. He recognized the behavior. In fact, he'd done it himself, once upon a time. It was...odd seeing it mirrored in someone else, someone he knew that hadn't been from decades and lifetimes ago. "Aye," he said, voice still pitched low, a small, placating smile, curling around his mouth. "We can do that." Seamus checked him with his hip, herding the man away from the food table and closer to the comic books, figuring it was a better topic to pick up than anything else. "Which arc's yer favorite? Or th' one ye need? Might have it here."

Lachlann MacNab That- was kind of unexpected, really. Lachlann had hoped the other would simply nod and let him be instead of guiding him away from the table -or actually mentioning Darkwing. He couldn't but give the man a little smile (that also served as a silent 'thank you') as he followed him and looked into the various colorful displays, plate still in his hand. "The Dark Knight Returns, hands down" he said, voice slowly returning to it's usual volume "I like the idea of Darkwing being retired for a while, then returning. Like, I feel that makes a hero -doing the right thing even when it's difficult or it kind of hurts, being- reliable, I guess" But he wasn't looking at the comics as he said that, not really.

Seamus MacTunnag He saw the unexpected surprise cross Lachlann's face and counted it as a win. Or, at least, a minor victory of a small skirmish. It was also, incidentally, what appeared to be a bit of a thank you in its own right. As the other ran spoke about the comics, Seamus's eyes traveled over the colorful covers and the snazzy artwork, the characters that came to life in their pages pitted against the harrowing forces of some villain or another in a snapshot on the front cover. The Darkwing books were no different, though Seamus knew them by hert a little differently. Still, it was nice to hear Lachlann a bit more normal, so he let him go on with his explanation, chuckling quietly at what he heard. "Sounds like yer trying tae tell me somethin', Lachie," he mumbled, teasing in the tone. He reached out a hand and tapped one of the covers, the garish suit they put Darkwing in front and center. "I remember when th' first one o' these came out. Laughed meself about sick. 'Course, I knew why. He did deserve it, retirement an' all. Sometimes it ain't fer someone, though, an' they wanna keep on, even if they dunno how tae quite get back intah th' game." No, he wasn't taking about Darkwing anymore.

Lachlann MacNab Lachlann laughed and shook his head 'no', even if there was some true to the other's statement and once again found himself intrigued by the other's words, or more exactly the way he used them -sure, one could argue that him being older meant he'd had more exposure to that sort of media, but that didn't seem like the reason he talked of Darkwing in such a way. But then again, who was Lachlann to judge? If anything, he was happy to had a shared interest. "It's difficult sometimes. Once you start doubting it just...isn't the same, right?" he asked, before taking a bite of his previously-forgotten food "I really admire the kind of people that just- you know, keep doing their best even when things get difficult. I hope to learn to do that kinda stuff someday" Maybe he could from the older man, that even with his rough start had managed to make the best he could and continued trying to do so. "I- I know this may not be the best place, but could I ask you a question real quick, Mister Mac T?"

Seamus MacTunnag Seamus paused when he was done speaking, glanced over at the other man, a hand holding just over the spine of an omnibus edition. Looked like the first arc of an early Darkwing series. Maybe another hero, mixed into the wrong area. "Aye, it is." Turning so he was facing the other man more fully, Seamus leaned his empty arm against the shelf and crossed his feet at the ankles, brow ticking upward. "Shoot, Lachie."

Lachlann MacNab "Would you keep me around even if I had nothing interesting to offer?" But that was a waaay too complex of a question for that moment and place, really, so Lachlann chewed a couple of seconds more, eyes on the omnibus' in the other's hands, before speaking again. "How do you do it?" he finally said "keeping on even when things get difficult, I mean"

Seamus MacTunnag It had long been established that patience was a virtue in Seamus's life, one that he had learned to perfect over the years. Even with a bit of a temper when he got riled up, he had learned to make the most of a wait. And he did. Even guessing at the question hadn't really prepared him for the actual thing, however. It made the brunet's eyes widen as he drew in a breath and let it out. That was a bit of a loaded question. "Sometimes ye dunna want tae," he began, wetting his lips and giving a small smile. "Sometimes 's hard, harder than anythin' yer gonna ever do. But then ye remember ye've got family that need ye, friends that care about ye. An' th' shite ye hear in yer own head...dunna sound so loud anymore. Ye keep busy an'...ye remember. Ye remember everythin'." He'd looked down as he started speaking, thumb of his free hand flicking against the side of the shelf as he spoke, but he looked up now and met Lachlann's gaze head on.

Lachlann MacNab Lachlann remained silent for a second, taking in every single word, and smiling at the end. "See? Just like a hero" he said almost in a whisper "You're there for them-" He paused again, eating a piece of steamed broccoli before he continued, adding a better word to express his idea. "-for us" because he was still there, even if his previous words hadn't been the best, his skills still were a sore topic and he was too dumb or too loud or just too much in general "I- thank you for that, for being there" For staying, even when he, himself, wanted to run.

Seamus MacTunnag A wider grin edged around the corners of Seamus's mouth and eyes; despite that, he shook his head, bemused. "Aye, if ye wanna call it that, then sure." There were a lot of times he didn't quite feel like a hero, like there were times were he missed a step or took a wrong turn, hid away or back tracked entirely. But if he kept moving forward, didn't look back, he had learned that maybe, just maybe, things would get better. That he could learn to live with the things he had seen and what had been done in his life. Thank you for that, for being there. "'Course, Lachie. What else would I do?"

#I like talking this way cause it makes everything sound important (Writings)#S: At Als Potluck #c: Scrooge #tw plane crash #tw depressing thoughts #tw mentions of death #tw vague mentions of alcoholism #/it may not seem like it cause of the tags but it's actually a sweet thing #/This is a recap for the non-group friends so they can kind of understand the chaos

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