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stainedglasstruth · 10 months

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PARTIES: Arden @stainedglasstruth & Fang @ronin-for-hire LOCATION: Fukuhara Electronics TIMING: Mid April SUMMARY: After Arden is forced to move, she goes to get her computer checked out at the local electronics shop and runs into Fang. Shenanigans ensue. CONTENT WARNINGS: N/A

After the whole slime incident that had led to her move, Arden needed to get her desktop checked out. It wasn’t working, and if the slime had been able to ruin her clothes and an entire fucking washing machine, then she didn’t want to consider what potential damage it could’ve done to her computer. She was lucky she also had a laptop and a habit of regularly backing up her files for work, or she would’ve been totally screwed.

However, there were still things on her hard drive that she wouldn’t want to lose, and while it still worked pretty well, her laptop was getting pretty old. She would feel better once she could get it checked out. Which is why she quickly found herself in Harborside at one Fukuhara Electronics. Well, that and the fact that one of the employees had been joking around and blatantly hitting on her had made her a little curious.

Stepping into the shop, Arden eyed the shelves of old, used electronics as she made her way to the counter.

–

Fang’s butt was in the air, the first thing anyone would see when they entered the shop, as she angrily rummaged through a box of spare parts that Sara had left for her at the far end of the room. They had gotten into a little spat, which ended up becoming a very passive-aggressive war. Fang had “accidentally” smashed Sara’s television screen when she tried to turn it off by hurling a shuriken at it, confident she would get the job done. She did, but her wooden sandal flew straight into the screen when she used her feet to throw the projectile. #JustFangThings

In revenge, Sara had taken apart Fang’s tiny microwave oven, which the latter had assembled out of spare parts and a broken one that was left with them by a customer that didn’t care to sell the damned thing after buying a new one from the shop. Muttering to herself in Japanese as she continued rummaging, not unlike a hungry racoon to a restaurant’s trash can, Fang swore to herself that she’d get revenge by hurling Sara off the docks. Sara could swim, of course, and Fang wouldn’t risk her living accommodations, but her intrusive thoughts were very violent when she was angry. #JustSlayerThings

–

Arden paused as her eyes landed on what appeared to be a woman bent over a large box.

Nice ass.

She shook her head, rolling her eyes at herself. The other woman was muttering something to herself, though she couldn’t quite make out any words. She seemed like she was on a mission, vigorously looking for something specific. Arden didn’t exactly want to interrupt her quest, but she wasn’t going to stand around awkwardly until the woman found whatever it was she was looking for.

Not wanting to startle the other, she cleared her throat before speaking. “Hey, sorry to interrupt. Do you work here?”

–

“What?” Fang yelled out loud, still scowling, still furious, still about to murder someone. Well, in her intrusive thoughts anyway. She’d never murder anyone…for free. That would just be terrible business. She was about to, however, scream at whoever was interrupting her, only stop, taken aback by how cute the other girl was. All that anger, all that riled up negativity, immediately began to dissipate into thin air, as Fang scrambled to fix her hair and make sure she didn’t look like a goblin.

“Oh, yeah, I do,” she feigned a cough as she moved away from the box, forgetting what she had been on about, and moving behind the counter, quickly transitioning into a helping…hand for whatever the customer needed. Fang put on a smile, as her eyes locked on the other girl’s. “Sorry, was a little…caught up in something over there. How can I help you? I’m Fang, by the way.”

Not a great introduction, but it wasn’t the worst she’s ever had. Nothing can top that time Fang introduced herself to someone butt-naked and dripping in a yōkai’s…fluids. The monsters in Japan were usually bigger than the ones they had here, some of them didn’t even care about pretending to be human, trying to belong in that world, and the one that Fang had encountered during that time, tried to swallow her whole. Big mistake.

–

Arden raised an eyebrow, amused, as the other woman yelled, only to quickly course correct when she turned to find a customer. She was beautiful, it was easy to see even as she smoothed down her hair and scrambled to compose herself.

“No worries, I kind of figured,” she smiled. “Fang, that’s a pretty badass name. I’m Arden, nice to meet you.” Pulling her tote from her shoulder, she placed the bag with her desktop tower onto the counter.

“I just wanted to get this bad boy checked out. My apartment kind of had some issues with… flooding,” close enough, “recently, and I was talking to someone who worked here online who mentioned the store.” Amongst other things. “Anyway, it’s not working, and I have some files on there that I hadn’t backed up, and use my computer a lot for work, so I wanted to see what we could do.” Was she talking a lot? She felt like she was talking a lot. The stress of having to find a new place and move had been incredibly draining, and talking to cute women and exhaustion was a terrible mix.

–

“You have a pretty nice ass yourself,” the words escaped her lips before she could think them through. Fang stared at the customer, Arden, awkwardly for a few more seconds before shaking her head and making a save. “Get it? Badass? Ass? It’s a terrible joke.” It wasn’t a joke to begin with, more like one of those Freud things, that psychobabble terminology that referred to a mental slip, when someone’s filter goes down for a bit and revealed something about them that they’ve been trying hard not to reveal. “Anyway, the pleasure’s all mine.”

“Flooding?” Fang repeated that last word while her eyes became fixated on the computer. “Well, there’s only four of us here, so it might have been any of us,” she then shook her head, realizing it was just her at the shop at the moment. “I mean, usually there’d be four of us, but it’s just me right now.” If Arden was talking a lot, then Fang was just babbling from here on out, a weak attempt to try and sweep that ‘nice ass’ slip under the invisible rug.

Fang started to look the device over. On the surface, she could tell something was wrong with it. Like it was dropped on the ground maybe and then ran over by a car or kicked into the street. That was her professional opinion. She tried to start it up but of course it wouldn’t. The pretty girl wouldn’t be there if it did.

“Huh,” was the only thing that came out of her mouth this time. Fang shook her head, retrieved the notebook where Sara listed her customers’ information so she could get back to them whenever, and the pen that was attached through a spirally rope-like thing to a holder bolted on the counter. “Well, it is damaged, obviously, but you might need to leave it here for a couple of days.” She opened the notebook and showed it to Arden. It already had other entries, that of previous customers, that included names, contact information, and some even shared their address. “When do you need it?”

–

Her eyebrows shot up at the woman’s comment. She hadn’t commented on her ass out loud, had she? She would simply cease to exist if that were the case. But also, Fang thought she had a nice ass? They stared at each other for a beat before she came up with what was obviously an excuse. Arden bit back a smirk, amused and somewhat endeared by the slip up and attempted save. It was nice when she wasn’t the only gay disaster in the room, and maybe this was the person she’d spoken to online.

Maybe she should be a bit more honest if this person might be finding some weird ectoplasm or some shit in her computer. “Well, not flooding exactly… There was something oozing from the walls?” She shrugged, not knowing how to explain that one. “It was a whole thing and I had to find a new place– it’s been a hell of a week.”

Huh wasn’t what someone wanted to hear from an IT person. It seemed it might be the end for poor Gimli. Arden wrote down her name and number in the notebook, trying to make it more neat and legible than her usual rushed scrawl. “That’s fine, there’s not a huge rush,” she shrugged. “I have a laptop I can use in the meantime.” Fingers crossed Legolas wouldn’t start acting up before then.

–

It was obvious that Fang had been thinking of something else when Arden talked about something oozing, as instead of a look of disgust or maybe even just concern, she was full-on smiling. Wide. Her lips curled up to her ears. When she finally realized what the woman was actually saying, when her brain finally dragged her back to reality, she immediately feigned a cough and followed it up with a shake of her head. “Oh, that sounds…horrible. You found a place yet?”

In her head, Fang had a place Arden could stay in if she hasn’t found one already. Well, she actually did, but if she left her head, the slayer would’ve realized it would’ve been too cramped. That and she had her slayer stuff in there, so that would be an oopsie that could end her life. Maybe even Arden’s as well if the monsters found out she was associated with the Fanged Oni. But that was thinking way too far ahead.

“Sorry to hear that,” she heaved a sigh, realizing the truth that this wasn’t going to work despite all the fantasies in her head. Fang was just cursed, and Arden deserved better. Again, thinking way too far ahead. “Weeks can be…like hell.”

The slayer immediately slid the notebook back in her direction as soon as Arden was done writing her information, as if trying to memorize the number she had shared there. It was not at all not-creepy, especially considering someone else would be working on the laptop, not her. Fang wasn’t even technically an employee at the repair shop, more like a tenant that just covered Sara’s shift when she was out doing…things. What even does Sara do when she’s out. “That’s nice…”

–

Noticing the other’s grin made Arden’s words slow slightly in confusion. Furthermore, the woman’s reply gave her pause. Was she– Fang was clearly coming on to her, but was she really offering to put her up in her home because she thought Arden was attractive? She was willing to bet that she just hadn’t thought about what she was saying, considering how she had just blurted out a comment about her ass. Or maybe she really was giving the whole sapphic U-Haul stereotype a run for its money. Either way, Arden had to fight back a laugh, even as she felt her cheeks heating up.

Before she could respond, Fang seemed to deflate somewhat. Maybe she had realized what she had said? The sudden mood change just furthered to fluster Arden. “Oh, thanks, but it’s okay. Things have been working out, at least? I have, luckily, found a new place, and I now seemingly have three of the nicest roommates ever? That, or they’re in cahoots and trying to get me to lower my guard, so they can sacrifice me to the crabs or something.”

Arden watched the woman check over her information, but it seemed that all of Fang’s goofy, flirty energy had dissipated. She knew she should probably just leave, but she would feel bad just walking out. Fang might’ve been coming on a little strong, but it seemed a little playful and awkward in a way she could relate to. “It seems like you might be speaking from experience. You also having a shit week? You seemed pretty annoyed when I walked in.”

–

“New place? You sound like the person I’ve been talking to online,” Fang shook her head, chuckling to herself. It was the first thing that came to her mind when Arden started sharing about her new place. It slowly dawned on her how her experience was quite similar to the one someone online was having. Maybe even too similar? “With the…attractive roommates?”

Fang stopped whatever she was doing to squint at Arden. Were they the same person? Arden and the rando she’d been talking to online? There was only one person she’d been talking to with the same experience, and didn’t Arden mention something about talking to someone online who worked there at Sara’s? Well, to be fair, Fang didn’t technically work there. Not legally. Or officially. But that could have been a misinterpretation. Most people see her there, most people think she’s one of the shop’s workers. Would probably help if everyone else didn’t go off every now and then.

“I’ve fought crabs before,” Fang reminisced about that time she took a job clearing crabs at the morgue. It wasn’t a good memory. Still, she continued squinting at Arden, trying her best to make sure she was that same online person. It wouldn’t really make that much of a difference, but it was a nagging concern for her at the moment. “Oh, yeah, well, it’s always a shit week, you know? Being single and stuff.” Subtle. Real subtle.

–

“Oh, so you are the woman who’s a fan of pussycats,” Arden smirked, amusement clear on her face. She had been wondering, and now she had a definitive answer. Fang had been the one she’d been having that playful, sort of flirty conversation with. That tracked. She hadn’t known what to expect from a random person online, but she’d been curious to stop by the shop. And now she was face to face with an endearingly awkward, incredibly beautiful woman.

She had to pause, head cocking to the side, as said woman admitted to fighting crabs. “You’ve fought crabs? Like, the hermit crabs that are around town or was this before? Also, how?” She had questions. She wanted to know all about how and why a grown woman had fought crabs. …or wait, she didn’t mean–

It’s always a shit week, you know? Being single and stuff. She grinned. This girl either had zero impulse control or she was just incredibly upfront. Or maybe both? Arden couldn’t really tell, but she had smiled more since stepping foot in the building than she had all week. “Oh, yeah, I know the struggle myself.”

–

Fang snickered when Arden made that quip about pussycats. She wasn’t. At least not of the actual creatures. They’ve always been friendly enough, but Fang couldn’t keep any of them with her for long. Pets were a no-no back…home. They were either distractions or casualties. She didn’t want to lose more of what she loved. “I guess I am,” she extended a hand, a playful smirk on her lips. “Pleasure to meet another kitty enthusiast.”

“Yeah, it was a job,” Fang tried to downplay the annoying, to say the least, encounter she had with the damned things. It was one thing to fight an army of crabs but to fight an army of crabs that seemed to never go down in number and to have that fight in a morgue… Well, that was a nightmare in of itself. “A friend needed help,” she shrugged, even though Doctor Kavanagh only knew her as Sara Fukuhara, her landlady and the woman whose identity she stole for a quick buck. “...so how could I say no, right?”

Fang raised an eyebrow, leaning forward on the counter, closer toward Arden. She was liking where the conversation was going, as if she wasn’t already liking what she was seeing. Maybe she’d see more of her. Who knows? Definitely not Fang. “Ah, really? But you’re so pretty! And funny,” she shook her head in genuine disbelief. “Your choice, maybe?” She did have those attractive roomies. Might be just a strategic move on her part.

–

Struggling to hold back a laugh at kitty enthusiast, Arden shook the other’s hand, a wry grin on her face. “Likewise.”

Had she really fought them like trying to kill them, or had she just been hired to capture them? She had to imagine it was the latter, though she did enjoy imagining the woman trying to throw down with some tiny hermit crabs. “Oh, well, that was nice of you to help them out with that. I know it’s really becoming a problem.” There were crabs all over the damn town. “One of my new roommates is trying to keep one as a pet, so that’s fun.”

Fang leaned forward, clearly interested, and Arden couldn’t help but smirk. “Flatterer. But I could say the same to you; you’re beautiful, and you know how to make a girl laugh, I’m surprised to hear you’d be having trouble in that department.” She shrugged, keeping her smile light. “I’ve never been one for relationships, really.”

–

“I’m always down to help friends,” Fang emphasized that last word, letting it linger before adding the last letter and turning it from singular to plural. With a playful smirk on her face, the intention was to draw Arden in, referring to her as that friend, maybe a future friend, with certain benefits of course. What’s the point of a friendship without benefits, anyway? Not always those ‘benefits’ but certainly a benefit. “Wait, a pet hermit crab? That doesn’t sound safe. Might not stay one, if they’re not careful.”

The damned things multiplied even without prompt, almost drowning the slayer in that small space. Definitely not something she’d try again any time soon. But she digressed, shaking those dark, nightmarish thoughts away, she focused on Arden and that pretty smirk. “Just telling the truth, sweetie,” Fang purred, ignoring the tiny voice in her head that grimaced at that pet name. Sweetie… Was she an old hag trying to trap a little girl so she can bake her into a cake? She really needs to update her verbiage.

“Not a relationship kind of girl, too. Another thing we have in common, huh? What else could do you think we unknowingly share?” Fang raised an eyebrow, smirking again. It has been a while. Could this finally put an end to her dry spell of sorts?

–

Arden couldn’t help but smirk back at the woman. Her particular brand of awkward, goofy forwardness was charming in a way it didn’t have a right to be, probably aided by her beauty.

“Yeah, we tried to tell him it was a bad idea, but it’s hard to say no to him. He’s, like, one of the nicest people I’ve ever met, it’s ridiculous. We’re keeping an eye on Shadow, though.”

Sweetie, that wasn’t one she got often. She didn’t think most of her flings would consider her ‘sweet,’ and certainly neither of her exes did. The only people who called her sweetie were older women or passive-aggressive people on the internet. She’d get the occasional ‘sweetheart’ from a condescending man or two, as well. However, there did seem to be a flash of panic? or regret? on Fang’s face immediately after saying it, so she figured she could let it go.

“I suppose we could always find out.” Arden raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth. Her tone was casual, but there was mischief in her eyes as she spoke.

–

“Hard to say no to him, huh? Lucky guy,” Fang couldn’t help but smirk at the thought. Attractive people not being able to say no to her? Sign her up. Although, that would present a different problem entirely, a problem she’s more used to in the real world: Her not being able to actually ask anyone out. At least not without just blurting what she wanted out of the deal. Most people were better at dancing around the need, the want, the end game. Fang? She’s either very blunt about it or she won’t even bother. Fortunately for her, the people who share her desires often ask first. “Shadow? They named the crab Shadow?”

It took Fang a while but she did recall having a conversation with someone involving petting crabs and naming one Shadow. Online. Was it the same person? Nah, what were the odds, right? Couldn’t be. Or is it. “Is Shadow a pitch black hermit crab? Does its tank have a little cave? They feed it with a bowl of lettuce?” What were the freaking odds, right?

“Oh,” Fang crossed her arms over her chest, feeling her heart beat start going faster than usual. Her cheeks grew hot, maybe even a tad redder than usual, but she feigned full control over herself. It wasn’t unlike being out there at night going after monsters that paid her rent, though it felt riskier considering she wasn’t wearing a mask right then and there. “I suppose we could. Yeah, we could. Supposedly. You and I. Together.”

–

“I suppose he is,” Arden laughed. She was persistent and knew how to get shit done, but if people couldn’t refuse her it would make her job easier. …it would probably be less enjoyable and fulfilling, though. Having a bit of a challenge every now and then did make things fun.

“Yeah,” she nodded. “After the hedgehog, I believe?” Hearing Fang describe Shadow to a T made Arden chuckle. “You saw that post he made then? Yeah, that’s Shadow and Sully.” Arm resting on the counter, she continued explaining the Shadow situation. “Our other roommate was hoping I could help talk him out of keeping the crab, but even with our powers combined, we were no match.” She shrugged. “Again, we’re keeping an eye on him, but he’s been fine so far.” A the first sign of something weird happening, though, she was getting rid of that damn crab. Sully could hate her and she’d probably feel like an asshole forever, but she was not taking chances with anyone’s safety.

Right, no more crab talk, there was a cute blushing girl in front of her, and she was being adorably awkward again. Fighting to keep her very amused smirk in check, Arden forged ahead, ignoring the anxious fluttering in her stomach. “Are you busy later? We could get a drink after your shift, if you’d like.” That wasn’t too soon or too eager, right? Fang seemed to be into her and the prospect of hooking up with her, she was just overthinking it, right? This was always so much easier after a drink or two.

–

“Yeah, we…interacted over that post,” Fang wasn’t quite sure what the exact post Arden meant was, but what were the chances the same guy would keep talking about the same thing over and over and over again? Probably higher than Fang gave it credit for but not high enough for her to actually consider the possibility. Then again, she did forget the guy’s name, if he even gave it to her.“And Sully? Huh. I only know about Shadow.”

The fact that the crab seemed to behave better with them made Fang a little jealous. Well, more curious. Her interactions with them was mostly hostile, though it’s probably just her being what she was. “That’s good to know. Those pincers can be painful.” Could crabs tell if a slayer killed a demonic version of them? Like dogs being able to tell if someone ate one of them?

“Oh,” Fang felt her throat dry up, her eyes widening in surprise. She did not expect to be asked out like that, even though she’d been technically working for that outcome. With all that flirting, what did she expect? “That sounds fun. I mean, I could go right now!” No, she can’t, a tiny voice in her head reminded her. No one else was at the shop. Sara would kill her if she abandoned it. “Or, yeah, maybe after my, uhh, shift. I’ll text you?” Fang waved the notebook with Arden’s info, a playful smirk on her face. A drink would be nice, especially with a gorgeous companion. What could come next, though, Fang thought that would be much nicer. Very nicer.

–

Arden winced sympathetically at the thought of being pinched by those claws. “Noted. I don’t have any intentions to interact with Shadow, but I’ll at least remind Sully to be careful.” Maybe Wynne, too. Zack was wary enough of the crab that he’d probably be fine. Probably. Anyway. “I hope your friend was appropriately grateful for your help, especially if you got hurt on the job.”

Fang seemed so surprised and it befuddled her. Sure, the woman’s flirting was kind of disastrous, but it was cute and amusing, and she was beautiful. Arden had to imagine she killed it with the ladies, and whoever else she might be interested in. Chuckling at her enthusiasm, she nodded. “Looking forward to it. I’ll see you tonight, then, Fang.” She winked, a devious smile on her face. Oh, this would be fun.

#ronin for hire #wr fang #wickedswriting #writing #collab

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malxshrine-a · 1 year

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I feel like so many people are afraid to engage, talk to me, or interact with Suku. I swear, I SWEAR, I AM JUST A DUMBASS WHO HAS NO IDEA WHAT THEY'RE DOING, OKAY? It's all trash, my portrayal is trash, and I am a mini trash goblin.

Come speak to your local trash man today.

#tbt #okay but like for real #i am a goblin parading around like i know wtf im doing #i definitely do not deserve the people that put up with me #hahahahaaa #but im really not all that great #no need to be intimidated honestly #your perception of me is very much more than i am #🥴🥴

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drenchedinmoonlite · 3 years

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.....please?🥺👉👈

No seriously, I’d love to answer some things! Art related, about yours truly, or just something out of the blue. Or something supremely cursed, you know. I’d also like to interact with my followers more, cause I really care about y’all a lot :’)

#trash goblin speaks #ask the local trash goblin #asks #send asks #random asks #pretty please #with a cherry on top #my art #artists on tumblr #ask me anything

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bansheeoftheforest · 3 years

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Us telling each other to go to sleep while simultaneously not sleeping

1) You can just stop writing the au if you hate it so much, or just take a hiatus. I know people like it but you shouldn't burn yourself out!

2) Have you ever heard of the Lykoi cat? Please search them up if you haven't

3) Diphylleia Grayi, is a type of flower that looks turns "invisible" when it touches water

4) Do you have a favorite spider?

5) Help I keep drawing porcelain Jekylls that I'll never post </3 /lh

6) hsjsvdjsgh I cant think of anything. Uhhh. The Wulver is a scottish creature that's a furry person with the head of a wolf and shares fish with locals. Honestly most drawings look like furries I've just noticed, why is no one drawing em with proper clothes

7) Similar questions to my last(?) ask. Do you have any thoughts on what supernatural/mythical creatures tgs characters would be if they were one? And what would your latest oc that I keep forgetting how to spell the name of be?

...The fact that that is accurate scares me-- I'm also going to save that meme for future references everytime either of us catch the other up late sdfds

1) THEORETICALLY YES... But I know that if I take a hiatus I will never finish it, and I know how guilty I would feel for not continuing it... Plus, most of my complaining is just dramatic but I'm not used to make chaptered fics and never will ever again. I guess it's just a mix between constantly having to worry about how the fic is perceived (especially since we are entering the more controversial/angsty chapters rn) combined with the deadline that makes... Me sad :'3

2) *frantic googling* OH MY GOD THEY LOOk LIKE THE DEFINITON OF A TRASH GOBLIN I WANT FIVE OF THEM IMMEDIATELY SFSDFSDF

3) oo h h m y god... It looks like ice... Are they edible? My brain is telling me to go absolutely bonkers on them. O o h h m y god

4) I had a very weird phase as a kid, who was also very afraid of spiders, where I tried to convince my parents to give me a tarantula because I saw that they were fluffy. I'm still massively afraid of spiders but otherwise I'd say redkneed birdspider (is that the english name???)

5) Bestie I know how it feels my entire sketch book is just drawings of my ocs that will never grace tumblr </3

6) Oh man. I love Wulvers. I know jack shit about them but I had planned to have Henry meet a wulver in the Irrbloos Au at some point, since they were benevolent and helpful I had planned to have a wulver lead him back and get him back to the real world at some point but I never got so far into that plotline. But honestly... All pictures of werewolves of all kinds look like furries. Did you know that they have werehyenas in africa, which is basically just reverse werewolves (i.e a hyena that turns into a human instead of the other way around)?

7) I'm going to start off by saying that Cederic definitely would be some kind of nymph-like creature like an incubus of some kind or just a straight up male nymph/siren, something very pretty and very seductive because, I don't know if anyone read his part of the updated OC masterlist post, he was originally a prostitute and very much uses that to his advantage to get what he wants. Something cat-like would also make sense, as his mother (in the actual DND campaign) is the egyptian cat goddess Bastet, but regardless, he still has his cat so it would fit no matter.

*cracks knuckles* alright here we go. Not going to go into a lot of context i'm just going to spew shit out.

Jekyll - Werewolf, really, that's no surprise but a werewolf fits so good. Having a monstrous side he tries to hide that only comes out at night? *chef's kiss*

Hyde - Imp or poltergeist.

Robert - Vampire.

Rachel - Selkie

Jasper - since he already is a werewolf, he would just be Some Dude

Frankenstein - Dwarf, or Baba Yaga.

Griffin - Ghost that does not want to be a ghost

Emma - A Huldra, maybe? A benevolent nymph? A banshee? I just love her and I wanted to add her to the list somehow.

Maijabi - a ghost who is totally chill with being dead. Maybe one of those spirits who like to fuck with humans (metaphorically speaking) by hailing cabs and then ditching them in the middle of the ride.

Lavender/Ito - those centaurs that are deer instead of horses I forgot the name sdsdfs

thats all i can come up w at the moment sdfsdf

#ask #darling-dolly-darlene

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babycracker · 3 years

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Fire Meet Gasoline: Chapter 1

chapter rating: teen & up story rating: explicit pairing: morgan/m!oc (tanner drake) & farah/f!oc (sadie kennedy) word count: ~3k chapter warnings: none story warnings: eventual smut, canon-typical violence, au - canon divergent

read it on ao3 here

Tanner's eyes narrow at the town sprawled before him. What was it called again? He pulls his phone out of his pocket, checking the text message he'd received a few days ago. Wayhaven.

It's small. Smaller than he'd expected. Tiny compared to New York, where he'd been living for the past six months. How much trouble could a goblin get up to in such a small town? More importantly, how hard could he be to find?

He rubs his hands together, shoulders rolling slightly as he retracts his wings before reaching into his backpack to pull his shirt back on. He's still buttoning it when he steps out of the woods surrounding the town, eyes scanning the street from the tree line.

Should be quick, he tells himself. Get in, find Helk - or whatever he's calling himself while in hiding - and get out. Three days, tops.

He pulls a cigarette from the pack in his bag and lights up as he steps out of the cover of the trees before shouldering the backpack again and heading down the street. Pulling his phone from his pocket again, he brings up the last known location of Helk - in an alley behind some place named Haley’s Bakery in the centre of town.

The fingers of his free hand flex before he curls them into a fist at his side as he walks along the street, ignoring the curious looks he’s getting from passers by. Small towns, he hates them. The kind where everyone knows each other and he sticks out like a sore thumb. It’s always harder than necessary for him to get information out of people in these places.

His fingers feel strange without his rings, fidgeting as his hand swings beside his hip while he walks, and as much as he wants to just get on with it and find the damn goblin that had stolen them, he knows that it’s probably wise to try and be friendly and hope that someone’s seen something strange. That would make his job infinitely easier.

It would seem he's had a stroke of luck as he stomps out his cigarette and pushes the door to the bakery open and a short, fair and friendly looking woman smiles over at him. Being good looking definitely has its advantages.

“Hey there, handsome. Take a seat and I’ll be right with you," she exclaims cheerily, and he glances around the homey room, obviously decorated to be more welcoming than functional. He feels as though he’s in this woman’s living room. He disregards her offer and instead walks over to lean against the counter, watching her carefully as she goes about what she’s doing. She startles a little when she turns and finds him standing there, and he shoots her a charming grin in an attempt to put her at ease.

“You’re not from around here, are you?” she asks, the tiniest hint of suspicion in her eyes as she looks him over. He lets out a light chuckle and shakes his head.

“That obvious, is it?”

She doesn’t answer, just leans against the counter opposite him and gives him a small smile, his easy going attitude towards her obviously convincing her that he’s harmless.

“What brings you to Wayhaven?” she asks conversationally, standing up straight again to wipe her hands off on the front of the apron she’s wearing.

“Just looking for a friend. I heard he might be in the area. Say, you might be able to help me. You haven’t seen any other obvious out of towners around in the last couple of days have you?”

She shakes her head and gives him a sympathetic smile. “No, sorry hun. You could head on to the police station and ask around there though. The detective and the team he works with seem to always know the ins and outs of what’s going on around here before anyone else.”

Tanner tenses, his fingers twitching as he tries to avoid letting them ball into fists again. So the rumours are true. He’d heard there was a group of agents working with a detective human liaison in some tiny nothing of a town. Not ideal, to have to avoid trained agents while he’s running his own unapproved mission. He can work around them, though. They don’t even know he’s here, after all.

“Where can I find the station, gorgeous?”

She almost giggles and he struggles for a moment to keep from laughing at how easily he managed to get her on side. Hopefully the law enforcement in this town are just as easy and he won’t ever have to risk encountering the agents in the town. She draws him a small map, unnecessary considering once he examines it he finds that the station is only a couple of blocks away. He rolls his eyes once he’s out of the bakery, screwing the map up into a ball and dumping it in a trash can as he heads for the station.

The man - or rather, boy - manning the front desk of the police station is so engrossed in the game he’s playing on his phone that he doesn’t even hear Tanner enter, and he leans against the counter watching him in amusement for a moment before clearing his throat loudly, making the boy jump. He hastily brushes long blonde hair out of his face and sits up straight, the phone landing loudly on the desk in front of him as he drops it.

“Uh, hello. How can I help you?”

He’s trying to appear professional, Tanner can tell. But the illusion has been shattered the second he’d stepped into the police station and he just smirks at him.

“I need to speak with the detective," he tries. Which detective, he doesn’t know. The boy nods and pushes himself away from the desk on his chair, leaning back to yell out across the station.

“Detective Langford!”

Tanner arches an eyebrow at the kid as he rolls himself back towards his desk and remains sitting up straight, the phone remaining untouched. Apparently this town is small enough for there to only be one detective, how tragic. Still, this detective must be a real hardass judging by the way the boy at the desk is pretending to be a real cop. Fantastic.

The man that steps out from an office in the back and comes to a stop behind the desk is not what Tanner had been expecting. Close to his own 6’3 height but scrawny - he doesn’t look as though he’d be much use in a fight. That might work to Tanner’s advantage before he finds what he came for and can take off, though.

“I’m Detective Langford, how can I help you?” He has a soft voice, and Tanner can’t imagine it sounding in any way authoritative and he wonders if that’s the reason one of the Agency’s units has also been assigned to Wayhaven. If there’s even infrequent supernatural activity in this tiny town he doesn’t imagine that this man would be equipped to handle it.

“I’m not sure, I’m looking for a friend of mine.”

The detective raises an eyebrow, instantly untrusting of the obvious stranger in front of him. “Your friend got a name?”

“I know him as Helk, but he may be going by something different while he’s in town.”

“Is he on the run from something?”

“Yeah.”

“What?”

“Me.” Tanner gives a small grin which the detective does not return. Langford studies him carefully for a moment as though trying to figure out how to proceed before shaking his head.

“Even with a name I don’t think I can help you. You’re the first newcomer I’ve seen here in months.”

“You lay eyes on every occasional visitor to your town, do you?”

“Yes. I do.”

Tanner nods and pushes off of the counter, straightening himself up. The boy at the desk looks between the two of them nervously, making him think that perhaps there’s more to this detective than meets the eye. Maybe he needs to tread a little more carefully for the remainder of his time in Wayhaven. Especially if he has an Agency unit to back him up.

“Right, well thanks anyway.” He turns to walk out of the station but Detective Langford calls out to him before he can step through the door.

“What’s your name? I’ll be sure to let any Helks that I come across know who’s looking for them.” He’s testing him, Tanner can tell. He realises that Helk doesn’t sound like a real name - definitely not a name that anyone in a town like this would consider normal anyway - and he’s probably trying to get a more honest answer out of him.

“Tanner Drake," he calls over his shoulder with a grin before stepping out of the street, the smile instantly fading and his eyes narrowing as he scans the street. This is going to be harder than he’d thought.

“Where the hell are you, you little shit?” he murmurs under his breath as he starts walking, realising that he’s going to have to find a place to stay. He didn’t want to stay in this town any longer than necessary, but it’s become obvious that it’s going to take longer than today to track Helk down, especially if he doesn’t have the assistance of the locals.

Morgan shoulders her way through the door of the common room, a lit cigarette already hanging between her lips as she assumes her usual position leaning against one of the side tables in there as they wait for Lucas.

She’s not terribly fond of the man, and she despises these weekly meetings they get dragged into with him. Especially when there’s nothing happening and they usually just consist of Lucas and Nate flirting.

She’s about to lose her patience and leave, forgoing the meeting altogether when finally the detective makes his appearance, and she pulls a face at the way Nate jumps to his feet like a love sick puppy and pulls him into a hug. As though they don’t see each other everyday.

“Can we get started? Some of us have better things to do," she snaps, crushing her cigarette in the ashtray sitting on the table she’s leaning on. Lucas rolls his eyes and reluctantly steps away from Nate. After going through all the usual rigmarole, revealing that there’s nothing interesting to report, as Morgan had expected, she’s pulling another cigarette from her pack and getting ready to head outside when Lucas calls everyone back. She rolls her eyes with a groan and crosses her arms across her chest, her unlit cigarette still hanging from between her lips.

“I met someone strange this morning.”

Not unusual. The town is full of strange as far as Morgan is concerned. It’s unusual that Lucas didn’t know this one though, she’d thought he knew just about everyone.

“Strange in what way?” Adam asks and Lucas shrugs slightly.

“I didn’t recognise him, he came into the station and said he was here looking for someone called Helk. He didn’t mention why.”

“Did you get a name?”

“Tanner Drake.”

Adam tenses instantly and obviously and Morgan frowns over at him. “You know him?”

Adam doesn’t answer, his focus on Lucas.

“Can you find out where he’s staying while he’s here and report back?”

Lucas nods with uncertainty, and Adam turns to face the rest of them, his brow furrowed even deeper than usual.

“Who is he, Adam?” Farah asks from where she’s sprawled on the couch, but Nate answers before Adam can say anything.

“Bounty hunter.”

“We need to find him and figure out what he’s doing here. If he has an assignment in Wayhaven then we should have been notified. The fact that we weren’t suggests that he’s here for personal reasons," Adam cuts in before Nate can say anymore, and Farah nods slowly, casting a worried glance in Morgan’s direction. Morgan just shrugs and pushes herself off of the table when it becomes apparent that the meeting is over, at least until Lucas can find out where Tanner is staying.

Adam storms through the door after Lucas, and Morgan jogs to catch up to him, plucking the cigarette from her mouth and twirling it between her fingers.

“This guy dangerous or something?” she asks, trying to make sense of Adam’s reaction to his name.

“Not unless you’re being hunted by him.”

“So why the unease?” She gestures to him as she asks, and he glances down at her with a heavy expression.

“He is infuriating. I hoped not to have to deal with him again.”

Morgan grins. Now it’s making sense, and she figures that anyone who can get on Adam’s nerves to such an extent has got to be an absolute riot. She finds herself mildly hopeful that she’ll get to meet him and at least have some real fun for once.

Adam stares at the door inside the hotel in obvious disdain, reluctant to knock. Nate stands patiently beside him, trying to keep the amusement from his face as he waits for Adam to do something. He knows that Adam and Tanner hadn’t gotten along the last time they’d crossed paths; Nate had had a front row seat to it. Tanner is antagonising and cocky and easily as arrogant and self assured as Adam and it had led to a number of less than friendly confrontations between the two of them. He knows that Adam is hoping that he’s on a personal mission and he’ll be able to send him packing rather than needing to work with him again.

Finally Adam knocks on the door, a grimace on his face, and then lets out a heavy sigh as he waits for an answer. They hear the chain being unhooked on the other side of the door before it pulls open, Tanner’s eyes widening in surprise before a grin slowly crosses his face.

“Adam!” he exclaims, pulling the door further open and stepping aside to let the two Agents inside.

“Commanding Agent du Mortain.” Adam corrects in nothing short of a grumble as they walk inside and Tanner closes the door behind him.

“Never thought I’d see you again.”

“The feeling was mutual, trust me.” Adam replies, throwing an already exhausted glance in Nate’s direction before clasping his hands behind his back. Tanner’s eyes dart towards Nate and a scowl crosses his face for a brief moment.

When they’d first met, Tanner had taken an instant dislike towards Nate and he still isn’t sure why, but he suspects that maybe they are simply too different.

“Why are you here, Drake?” Adam asks before they can veer too far off topic but Tanner just grins at him.

“I should’ve known it was you four working with the detective. What with how much this one loves humans.” He nods towards Nate though his gaze remains fixed on Adam, who shifts just barely under the attention.

“Why are you here?” Adam repeats his question and Tanner sighs and tuts with a shake of his head.

“I’m sure your detective friend told you that already.”

“You are hunting for someone you call Helk.”

“Right.”

“Who is Helk and why are you looking for them?”

“A goblin, and he stole from me. I want my things back.”

“So it is not an Agency assignment? If you are not on assignment you need to return to the nearest facility. You should-” Adam’s interrupted by his phone ringing, and he lets out an irritated sigh before moving to the other side of the room to answer it.

“What did he steal from you?” Nate asks, trying to fill the awkward silence that falls between them once Adam steps away. Tanner looks over at him, a bored expression on his face as though he’s already tired of interacting with him, and then raises his hands in front of him.

“My rings.”

“Are they important?”

“Does it matter? They’re mine.”

“Seems like a lot of trouble to go to if they can be easily replaced.”

“No one steals from me.” Tanner answers simply before looking away, indicating that their conversation is over and Nate knows better than to push it. He seems unassuming, even as tall and well built as he is. Tanner has a charming smile, a cheeky and playful personality for the most part, and it’s hard to imagine him taking anything or anyone seriously.

But Nate and Adam were both witness to what he is actually capable of when they worked with him years ago. He assisted them in finding a supernatural who refused to even meet with the agency to discuss signing any kind of treaty and by the time Adam had finally pulled Tanner off of him the supernatural had needed treatment in the agency’s medical facilities before he was in a position to discuss anything. Even Adam is subtly wary of the nephilim and Nate knows it.

He is not sure what would happen should Tanner ever have an opportunity to meet Morgan and Farah. He suspects that he would get along with Farah fairly well - they have a similar sense of humour and Farah would have no desire to push his buttons and rile him up. Morgan, though. Morgan and Tanner are too similar, and Nate doesn’t imagine that she would be willing to back down just because he warns her too.

He doesn’t suspect that Tanner would be willing to hurt someone technically on his side for no good reason… but he can’t be entirely sure that he’d bother to try and hold himself back either.

Adam appears beyond displeased when he comes back over to them, tucking his phone into the pocket of his coat and letting out a heavy sigh. He turns to Nate, disappointment written all over his face.

“That was Agent Langford. She has a job for him.”

“I’m right here, you know. You could just tell me directly.” Tanner pipes up, back to his usual cocky self now that Adam is there to buffer between him and Nate. Adam turns to him and speaks reluctantly.

“You are to come with us.”

“Back to the Warehouse?” Nate asks incredulously, to which Adam simply gives a short nod.

“To Morgan and Farah?”

“Yes.”

“I get to meet the girls this time, excellent.”

Tanner either doesn’t notice the tension in the air at the idea of him accompanying them to the Warehouse and meeting Farah and Morgan, or he simply doesn’t care about it. Knowing what Nate knows of the Nephilim, it’s probably the latter.

“It would seem so.” Adam answers reluctantly, then nods to the backpack sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Pack. We’ll wait for you outside.”

Tanner grins and grabs his backpack, hoisting it over one shoulder and gestures to the door. “I never unpacked, lead the way.”

Adam groans, not even bothering to hide his unhappiness with the situation before walking out of the hotel, followed closely by Tanner as Nate musters as much positivity as he can to follow behind the both of them.

Well. This will certainly be interesting.

Tags: @admdmrtn @masonsfangs @oxjenayxo @mmerengue @agentnolastname @freckles-spangledvampire Thanks for reading! Please let me know if you’d like to added to/remove from the tag list.

#twc writing #the wayhaven chronicles #unit bravo #a du mortain #n sewell #f hauville #twc morgan #tanner drake #sadie kennedy #fire meet gasoline #new fic #n*fw #kat writes

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no-goddamn-cilantro · 4 years

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I got a bug, so I decided to write this ridiculous nonsense.

Adventures in Babysitting

The ship hummed softly as the power-down sequence began, and Rocket was quick to hop out of the pilot's chair and make his way back to the makeshift child seat Gamora insisted he use. Something-something safety, something-something, blah-blah-blah, whatever.* Groot's safety is and always will be number one, but it's insulting that she thinks a glorified bucket with a seat harness is going to do shit. Rolling his eyes to himself, he lifts the "baby carrier" by the handle and disembarks, wincing in the bright sunlight on Peter's home world.

He probably should have told Peter he was going to come, see if the guy had any family to visit. Ah well. Too late now, time to meet his old pal to drop off the kid before getting down to business.

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

Dyn Jarren was, to put it mildly, exhausted. After Sporog, there had been nine other planets, either too hostile or where they were too easily found. Nine.* So he'd decided to... Branch out a bit. Hit the next Galaxy over- he had contacts there, a Mandalorian covert hiding away on the moon of some backwater planet called Terra where the locals had barely managed to intrude on the dead rock, let alone notice the comings and goings of the refugees on their own moon. One of these Terrans had even gained that most precious of commodities years ago, the Mandalorian's trust.

There were three shootouts, a target's gills getting infected with fishrot, and said Terran actually convincing the target to be encased in Carbonite willingly. It was a wild four days, but the man was trustworthy, never having breathed a word of what happened during his "spirituality retreat."

Landing in a tucked away copse of trees near his contact's current location, he hefts The Child into his arms, turning his head to shush him gently.

"None of that. It's faster if I carry you."

Without another word he disembarked down the gangplank and set off at a brisk pace, following the coordinates in his helmet's display.

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

Keanu was sitting in the sunny Northern California early afternoon, dozing off if he were to tell the truth, at the rather larger home than he really needed that had been rented for the next week. He wanted plenty of room for Rocket and his young ward to explore and relax though, so this was his best option. It was secluded, no neighbors for miles, with a dense forest to the back and miles of vineyards in lieu of the missing neighbors.

A coo only a few feet from him caused him to jerk fully awake suddenly, eyes opening to see a man he'd never expected to see again and- was that a child?

Standing, he greeted the unexpected guest from outer space with a pleased smile.

"Mando! Man, wow, it's been like- six years? How are you? And who's this little guy??" As he approached his face broke into a more intimate grin as he made eye contact with the tiny green child, delight lighting up his face as The Child gifted him with another coo.

The Mandalorian, for his part, gives a neutral hum that borders on pleased. "This is The Child. We're currently hiding from parties that want him dead- or worse. I was hoping we could lay low here for a while- is that alright with you?"

Keanu, for his part, is astounded at that story, but the only question that passes through his lips is, "Mando, have you not... Named your kid?"

Despite being able to see exactly none of the Mandalorian's face, he can practically feel* the other man's blush. "... It hasn't been important so far."

"Mando!"

"Keanu." Unexpected, deadpan snark from his friend, but he rolls with it. Abruptly, he remembers his manners and invites them hurriedly, offering food and beverages. Dyn declines both for himself, but soup for The Child if he has it. Keanu does and quickly begins heating some on the stove. While that's working, he tries to figure out how to tell the bounty hunter about his other, expected visitor.

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

As it turns out, the Mandalorian wasn't terribly fussed about his having other guests, so long as they didn't try to harm either the man or the* child, though the Terran man was subjected to a hard stare he couldn't see but could definitely feel when he mentioned his other guests were "a little unusual-looking."

Rocket, true to form, didn't bother with knocking, though Keanu was openly relieved he used a door at all for entering the abode. The bipedal raccoon, on the other hand, was distinctly and obviously uncomfortable. With a blatantly false smile across his snout and speaking through his teeth, Rocket jerks his head a few times back towards the living room from the doorway of the kitchen where he'd abruptly halted.

"Hey, Neo, need to talk to you real quick. In here. Away from the bounty hunter."

The implacable stare of the helmet followed them out of the room and until they turned the corner, Rocket leading his friend halfway up the stairs leading to the bedrooms. Before Keanu can speak, Rocket is standing- somehow- on the railing and gripping the collar of his jacket, pulling him close to mutter threateningly in his face. "I don't know what that guy has told you, but I don't have any more bounties on my head. I went straight, we all went straight, we're doing good now. I won't let some Mandalorian asshole with out of date information skin me for credits, you got it?"

"I'm not here on a bounty."

Both man and raccoon in the stairwell jump, looking down at the Mandalorian standing with crossed arms. He continues, unperturbed by the blatant hostility of the raccoon that scampers down the stairs to stand eye to... Well, hip, until he takes advantage of the banister again. "I'm just laying low for a while. Needed a place to hide. Keanu mentioned you were coming." At the last sentence Rocket glares back at the man, before Mando dryly adds, "We were unexpected. You weren't."

Keanu decides that he needs a strong mug of tea.

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

So once helmet-head and his little goblin child are settled in the dining area, Rocket goes to collect Groot and his- bucket, no, carrier- from where he'd left him napping in the sun. He is completely unsurprised that his own little monster child has managed to escape the prison of the child seat and is frolicking in the yard after a butterfly or some shit. Rocket allows himself the barest moment of tender enjoyment of watching Groot just be happy, before he knuckles up and shouts across the open lawn.

"Hey Groot, come meet your babysitter! I don't got all day, hurry it up!" The tree person- is he a shrub right now? He's small enough to be a shrub- comes scampering across the yard, stopping in front of Rocket, crossing his arms, and indignantly huffing.

"I am Groot."

"Yes, you do. I can't leave you on the ship by yourself for a couple of days."

"I am Groot!"

"Because I'm the adult and you're not right now."

"I am Groot?"

"Keanu. Don't give me that look, that's his real name."

"I am Groot."

"Look who's talkin'! You think either of us have room to be critical of someone else's name?"

"... I am Groot..."

"That's what I thought. Now c'mon, he's waiting inside and he made you food, so be grateful."

He takes his ward's hand, leading him inside. More to himself than anything, he mutters, "But Keanu is a weird fuckin' name..."

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

The second meeting with the children present goes much smoother than the first. They sit and share a meal- with the exception of Dyn Jarren, who answers endless questions about Mandalorians, his helmet, his weapons, and anything else Rocket can think of to annoy him with, with a remarkable amount of patience- if not without more of the snark Keanu witnessed earlier. The fathers then send their children to play, with stern warnings about not leaving the yard that are, the Terran is sure, going to be completely ignored. He has to grip Mando's sleeve to get him to sit and stay after some noises of play begin and the man slightly panics.

Rocket, for his part, decides to refuse to be this much of a worrywart over Groot upon observing the bounty hunter's near-palpable anxiety over his foundling.

Keanu decides to get into the practicalities of the next few days, asking what each child likes to eat, when they're supposed to sleep, and what discipline they're used to, ready to take notes.

Both Mandalorian and raccoon stare at him blankly after the first question. He tries again, starting with what he thought was the easiest question.

"what time do they generally go to sleep?"

"Uhhh, Groot just sorta passes out when he's tired. Usually about... 9ish? I guess?"

"Does he nap during the day?"

"How'm I supposed to know, I'm workin'! He just sleeps when he's tired."

"Mando?"

The bounty hunter's shoulders drop slightly in what might be classed as defeat. "He sleeps all the time in about two hour chunks, then he's up for about five." When the Terran blinks at him in what looks a lot like confusion, he sighs. "I've tried getting him to sleep longer, but unless he ends up using his abilities, it's just not happening."

Keanu nods in what appears to be deliberate lack of judgement, making notes on either side of his page. Rocket snatches the paper almost as soon as he's done with his bedtime notes, barking a laugh at the name given for The Child.

"Mando Jr.? Really, bounty hunter? You couldn't come up with anything better?"

"... I didn't come up with it."

"So what's his real name?"

"... It's not important. That'll do for now."

And so the conversation went, discipline being a similarly baffling subject for both of them. When it came to food though, they found surprising common ground.

""Frogs.""

Keanu made a continue gesture after they both looked at each other in surprise, before Rocket jocularly punched Dyn on the shoulder. Dyn, for his part, just seemed exhausted. Keanu could relate.

"Soup. Small bits of meat... Mushrooms. Insects if he can catch them."

"Groot'll eat anything, kid's a trash compactor. We done here?"

Keanu is more than happy to finish out the conversation there, releasing them to go check in on their kids before headed out. Sometime in the last few hours, Rocket had decided a Mandalorian was pretty good backup for what he was doing and asked if Dyn would like to come along. The bounty hunter had sighed heavily before nodding his agreement.

Which brought them back around to the sitter conversation that now had Keanu reaching for the tea kettle again.

It was going to be a long three days.

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

Keanu, for his part, was pleased to discover Groot had no problems retreating to his and Rocket's room at 9pm for bed. The Yiddling, as was the name that seemed to stick for the sitter, was another story.

He whined, he grizzled, he even squealed a time or two. The Terran just kept calmly holding the kid and bouncing gently, singing half-remembered lullabies to the child as it slowly, eventually, tired itself out. Keanu very gently lowered the child into the crib he'd acquired from the bounty hunter's ship before they left, taking the three steps back to his bed to collapse backwards into the sheets and blissfully drop off after hours of soothing a fussy toddler who could move things with his mind.

For two hours. Then the crying began again.

It was a long night for everybody, and the sitter was more than happy to go start the coffee pot just as the first fingers of sunlight began to creep over the treetops behind the house. By the time he had breakfast prepared for the two children under his care, the kitchen was bathed in golden morning sunlight. The two ate well, then his little tree-like charge turned to him with a stubborn tilt to his head.

"I am Groot."

"A nature walk? Why?"

"I am Groot!"

"I somehow really doubt the forests of Earth are your ancestral home."

"I am Groot!"

"... You know what, an excellent point. You two can find all the frogs you like and I won't have to attempt to catch any for you. We'll go in a little bit, okay? I need to pack you both lunches in case we're out for a while, and I need to put together that thing."

"That thing" was, in fact, a jogging stroller for doubles. A quick overnight delivery after the arrival of not one, but two children in his care necessitated it, and it had arrived promptly at 8am. He cleaned up after his little charges, helped them both wash their hands in the sink, and then sent them to play for a while as he carefully read the instructions for assembly.

One hour, two bandages, and a hurried, "don't repeat that!" tossed in a nosey Groot's direction after some overheard profanity, and the babysitter had the stroller ready. He packed two quick lunches based on the Yiddling's preferences- as his was the more specified, and Groot really would eat anything, including the plate- and got them all out the door, a bag of essentials that he resolutely would not call a diaper bag tucked into the very-convenient compartment beneath the seats of the stroller and took them down the path that had a trail head right there in the backyard. Keanu decided Groot really did have an excellent idea with this.

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

Two hours later Keanu was smugly pleased with both the nature walk and the double stroller. Both kids were passed out asleep in their stroller seats, snoring gently with the remains of their lunches clasped gently in sticky fingers- twigs? Claws? Fingers was just easier for Keanu's exhausted but triumphant brain- and resting lightly in their laps. He was now taking a leisurely stroll back to the house, enjoying the peace as much as communing with nature.

And so that's how the three spent the next several sleep-deprived days. Breakfast, stroller, wander through nature (one extremely disturbing frog-hunting hour around a pond that he's never mentioning to another living soul except for maybe their parents) lunch and afternoon naps, playing tag and other such games in the yard, dinner, and then a fraught bedtime with the little Yiddling.

When their parents returned, Rocket was nearly bowled over by an excited Groot, being squeezed happily by suddenly very long toddler tree arms. The Mandalorian was passed The Child by a tired but very happy Keanu, who reported to both parents that they were good kids and behaved. Mando was surprised in equal measure by both the Yiddling- he was keeping that name for him, thank-you Keanu- falling asleep in his arms immediately, and the sitter in question's flabbergasted stare that soon melted into a soft, gentle smile.

As they each departed for their ships after what was decidedly a warmer and noisier splash than The Mandalorian had wanted to make on this planet, they were both secretly pleased at just how comfortable their children had been with the Terran, and at how well they'd been able to work together.

Perhaps they'd have to do this again sometime.

#baby yoda #the mandalorian #the mandalorian spoilers #the mandolorian #rocket raccoon #baby groot #Keanu #i love keanu #keanu meme #guardians of the galaxy #star wars #mandadlorian

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rollinwiththepunches · 4 years

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So! Hello! I wanted to post and discuss some things from my redesigns of my pirate characters for my Underseas Project. Next up: Local trash goblin and First Mate Reithe!

Old Design:

I always thought Reithe's design was pretty solid, thus he hasn't changed much. I looked at a lot of costume images from the Pirates of the Caribbean movies and drew a lot of design from those. My biggest complaint is that I had a very clear image for Reithe and this doesn't reflect that. I didn't consider another body type for him or to give him a more interesting face.

Stuff I liked:

The whole idea was pretty solid tbh! I like the blue jacket, I love the accent of red and I love the haphazard nature of him just throwing stuff together. This is a man who wears pants only because society dictates he must.

New Design:

Relatively similar, instead I've decided to refine aspects of it and also give Reithe more of his own body type so he's different from both Haddal and Qil. I have given him bright pink eyes to pull attention to his face as well as a horn style that kind of speaks for Reithe not giving much of a shit.

I also made it more obvious is ear is torn off and more noticeable facial hair (by drow standards anyway)

I also never gave him swords or weapons in his original design for some reason! There they are. He dual wields sabers.

The outfit is mostly the same with only very slight differences and where there are differences, they're more refinements on the original idea. Ie: Vest is unbuttoned and the shirt design is better defined, also so you can see his chest hair.

In conclusion: I liked Reithe a lot from the start and i didn't feel like much had to change. I liked him then, I like him now!

#dungeons & dragons #dnd #drow #pirate #dnd character #koski art #reithe

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prkerfm · 4 years

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alex fitzalan. cis male. he/him. ／ riley parker just pulled up blasting fat lip by sum 41 — that song is so them ! you know, for a twenty - three year old lead singer and guitarist of rabid porcupine, i’ve heard they’re really choleric, but that they make up for it by being so individualistic. if i had to choose three things to describe them, i’d probably say band tees stained with motor oil, sipping whiskey straight from the bottle, and spitting blood into the bathroom sink at an underground punk club . here’s to hoping they don’t cause too much trouble ! ( sam, 23, est, she/her )

rabid porcupine career claim: blackbear

it is i, sam, back with THE GOBLIN himself. as always, character info is under the cut and please message me if you would like to plot!

i. stats

𝙛𝙪𝙡𝙡 𝙣𝙖𝙢𝙚: riley ignatius parker-worthington

𝙝𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙩𝙤𝙬𝙣: alderley edge, cheshire, uk

𝙖𝙜𝙚: twenty - three

𝙙𝙖𝙩𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙗𝙞𝙧𝙩𝙝: january 31st, 1997

𝙯𝙤𝙙𝙞𝙖𝙘: aquarius

𝙤𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣: heterosexual

𝙤𝙘𝙘𝙪𝙥𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣: lead singer and guitarist of rabid porcupine

𝙥𝙤𝙨. 𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙞𝙩𝙨: individualistic, loyal, perceptive, forthright.

𝙣𝙚𝙜. 𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙞𝙩𝙨: choleric, temerarious, refractory, unceremonious.

ii. history

riley ignatius parker - worthington was born and raised in alderley edge, a small and affluent village in england’s northwestern county of cheshire. he’s the youngest of four boys, so he has three older brothers.

his family, the parker - worthingtons, are one of the richest in not only the uk or england, but the entire northern hemisphere. throughout a history that spans over 150 years, the family business which began as a small architectural firm expanded its reach to areas such as real estate, banking, oil, and mechanical engineering and is worth approximately 60 billion usd.

he was under constant guard at worthington manor, but not by his parents. raised by nannies and educated by private tutors, he went through most of his childhood prohibited from leaving the property and training to one day occupy a prestigious spot in the family company.

it was a very sheltered life and he rebelled against it from the start. being the unplanned child ( along with his identical twin brother ), his parents went through the motions of hiring private tutors and grooming him to be a successful businessman, but he was still quite young when he figured it out : they didn’t really care. their eldest sons were already the heirs, primed and eager to carry on their legacy of wealth and power. their youngest sons were simply the spares, and they were treated as such all their lives.

he began acting out the moment he realized it, refusing to participate in a game that would always be rigged against him. his parents viewed him as a problem? fine. he could be a problem.

he was kicked out boarding school ( several times ), he got a sketchy back alley tattoo, he was failing every single one of his classes, and the only thing he showed any real interest in was music. he had been taking piano lessons since before he could even reach the pedals and had a natural talent for it. his instructor ( the only adult he ever really liked ) actually believed that he could become an accomplished classical concert pianist, but upon discovering punk music at the age of sixteen, parker felt as though he had found his calling.

he was seventeen and attending boarding school in switzerland when he snuck off campus one night and never came back. he moved to seattle, bought a motorcycle, took some courses in auto mechanics, and then moved to los angeles where he started rabid porcupine. the three - piece band was popular among the local underground scene for a while, but recently gained mainstream recognition for their hit song, hot girl bummer.

iii. extras

parker is parker, not riley. NEVER riley. he’ll throw hands before he allows someone to call him by his first name, although it’s not much of a problem as most people don’t even realize that parker isn’t his first name to begin with.

has the thickest, most posh british accent.

he almost never speaks to his family but when he does they always threaten to cut him off unless he comes home, but he never comes home and they never cut him off.

he can basically get anything he wants with nothing more than a flash of the black card in his wallet, but he doesn’t like to use his family name to get stuff because it makes him feel like he’s still dependent on them and he absolutely DOES NOT want to be.

pretends like his favorite beverage is jack daniels whiskey when it’s actually the quintessential british cup of tea ( he doesn’t even drink coffee because he doesn’t like it ).

fluent in english and german.

he literally never watched movies or television growing up so 100% of throwback pop culture references will fly right over his head.

has a pet rottweiler puppy named heroin bob ( nicknamed harry ) who...literally has the exact same personality as him.

his motorcycle is a norton that he basically built from scratch all by himself so it’s his child and he is very protective.

iv. wanted connections

his on / off girlfriend !!!! *wc on the main

cousins ( would most likely be from the uk or europe but otherwise anything goes for this )

friends

party friends who can only stand each other when drunk

friends from boarding school

ex friends / enemies

fwb / ewb / one night stands

exes

( these are just ideas and i’m trash at coming up with stuff, so please don’t feel limited by what’s listed here. )

#excess:intro #it's safe to plot with him i PROMISE i'm not gonna switch out my second again #sdfsdfsdfs #it's him...the og goblin #re-wrote his whole intro for basically no reason

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redsdawn · 4 years

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( jessica chastain. forty. cis female. she/her. ) in stratford, dawn wright is more commonly known as red. they’ve been living in stratford for thirty years and currently work as a nurse. some say they are malapert & rancorous but i’m more inclined to believe those that say they’re ballsy & dependable. if you walk by their house, you can sometimes hear cloudbusting by kate bush playing from their window. ( the sting of comments better left unsaid, driving with the windows down, subjecting oneself to the unknown, and never knowing when to stop. )

hello, all! i’m dee, your local goblin whose hands are shaking as they type this! :-) i hope everyone’s having a good evening / morning / day. here’s to writing some good shit together!

disclaimer: i have dawn’s stats here, which hopefully gives you all the need-to-know info at a glance. the second section has death & suicide mentions, so please steer clear of that if need be.

if dawn is anything, it’s restless. she’s always felt like a bird about to take flight, or like she’s looming on the edge of some great cliff. it’s like some current flowing through her bones, or some itch that can’t be scratched. she yearns for more & hates that nothing is ever wholly enough for her.

dawn grew up trailer trash & she still was trailer trash when she moved to stratford after the death of her mother. her dad, nathaniel, was a drunken tradesman who'd never known what to do with the life he’d been given. he was hardly a father when diane was around & even less so after her passing. despite their blood relation, however, he & dawn were more akin to roommates than anything else. nathaniel provided the “essentials” [ bits of clothes every couple of months, piss-poor cooking, a place to sleep ] and little else. he wasn’t warm or particularly kind--not like he was to the girlfriends that’d come in and out of their lives. he didn’t know how to speak to children or how to be the mentor that dawn needed. he’d tried, but it wasn’t like dawn knew how to be the daughter he’d wanted either. she wasn’t diane. she wasn’t warm, obedient, and kind. she was gritty & spoke back, even when it wasn’t smart to.

growing up, dawn was hardly ever home. a majority of her adolescence was spent being a wild cat. as a kid, she’d get up to shenanigans with other kids from school or the neighborhood. she was a tomboy through-and-through, covered in various scars and bruises from climbing & doing things she shouldn’t have. she was an okay student, but her report cards always made a note to mention attention + behavioral issues.

as a teenager, she was even worse. it was then that she learned the careful craft of chasing cheap thrills. always slipping from crowd to crowd, dawn was a social butterfly. she’d slip her way into any group that would have her, reveling in any and all attention cast her way.

dawn was poor-poor. like, having frequent sleepovers at friends houses, because you want an actual real meal levels of poor.

above all, dawn’s childhood taught her how to be hungry & that feeling’s never left her.

it was a particularly persistent set of teachers that really pushed dawn to be more than what she was setting herself up for. her chemistry teacher really made a point to speak to her in frank terms + helped her fill out college application forms when that time of year came around. at the time, dawn had brushed it off, as she did with most things, but she’s always been grateful. it was nice to feel seen for once. she kept in touch & got their recommendation when admissions opened up for nursing school.

going to college & being in a new environment really forced dawn to get it together. she couldn’t just be a little shithead anymore--she had actual responsibilities & appearances now. she mellowed out some afterward, doing everything that she thought people were supposed to do. she got her own place, paid her bills, & worked like she actually cared about what she was doing--which she did, for once.

somewhere along the way, getting stuck in that grind & facing the fears that rose from losing her father started to really get to her. that restlessness had come back in full force, & dawn didn’t know how to handle it. she fell into a bit of a destructive rut that resembled that of her teenage years, and sought help only when her boss gave her an ultimatum. she’s better now, but not quite how she was.

dawn is unflinching. it’s extremely hard to unsettle her. are your guts falling out? is someone throwing shit + breaking chairs? is there a literal fire happening? well, you wouldn’t be able to tell by looking at dawn. she loves fixing things & finds it really easy to keep a cool head when shit hits the fan. she’s focused & nonjudgemental. she won’t question why you look like shit or why she has to stitch up a stab wound.

dawn yearns to feel needed & is uncomfortable when she isn’t. that want is what fuels her friendliness. she wants to be in a group, she wants to be something to someone. she goes out of her way for others not out of an innate altruism, but as a result of her deliberate choice to be good. she wants people to feel that she cares for them, so they may in turn care for her, too.

that being said, dawn’s decision-making isn’t immaculate. she has a blinding rage that’s a blight on her progress. it’s regressive & ugly & irresistible. dawn takes things too far sometimes & keeps pushing. she digs her fingers into wounds she knows are fresh & always keeps her knives close. she’s capable of a lot of good and love, but she’s also capable of a very white-hot rage.

some random bits are that dawn is a karaoke queen. she’s a heavy-weight, but doesn’t like alcohol. she’s an excellent hugger. she has an excellent memory & remembers the little things that people tell her. terrible at accepting gifts. she takes life one day at a time. total chatterbox. thinks she has a great pokerface, but her eyes are a straight window to that which lies behind. she’s definitely not a very good driver. writes notes on her hands and wrists.

some songs that make me think of her are

rock city

i bet on losing dogs

disorder

hounds of love

some wanted connection ideas !

a childhood memory -- maybe these two were a couple of ragtag misfits up to no good. maybe your muse’s parents felt bad for dawn, and would invite her over for dinner, regardless of how your muse felt about it. maybe they grew up in the same trailer park. maybe your muse’s mom dated her dad at one point. idk!!

teenage escapades -- did they used to drive around without a care in the world, swearing they were gonna live forever? did they try to use their fake id’s to buy cheap liquor & then haul ass after the cashier wasn’t having it? did dawn manage to weasel her way into your muse’s life & fuck it up somehow?

it’s a sibling thing -- are they related? no. does that stop them from acting like actual siblings? also no. dawn would do anything for this person, including, but not limited to, annoying them to death. silly, serious, and self-less.

frenemies -- they say you should keep your friends close, but your enemies closer. either way, these two are relatively close. do they even remember why they sometimes-kind-of-but-not-really-but-also-kind-of hate each other? maybe, maybe not.

best buds -- everyone needs a best friend &, believe it or not, dawn has a lot of love to give. being her best friend includes unlimited venting sessions, on-call assistance, & free snacks. truly a once in a lifetime deal.

playing doctor -- listen, dawn doesn’t wear those scrubs because she thinks they’re sexy. she knows her shit & who else are you going to call at ass o’clock because you’re bleeding all over your carpet floor? besides, at least when you call her, you don’t get reamed with a 2k bill after.

we don’t talk about that -- sometimes, dawn is off being a lovey-dovey bitch, which is embarrassing, but when she’s not? well.. she wouldn’t be opposed to a rebound, or one night stands that maybe never should have happened to begin with.

BUT REALLY I’M DOWN FOR ANYTHING AND THIS IS ALREADY SO DANG LONG SO IM GONNA END IT HERE AND SAY THAT ILY AND WANT TO DO ALL OF THE PLOTS WITH EVERYONE THANK U BYE SMOOCHES

#rideintro #this was so long i . pls forgive me #i have Thoughts sometimes i guess !#also im not proof-reading this. if i sound illiterate then i sound illiterate & thts THAT!

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gotatext · 5 years

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whats up ! its ur local feral goblin nora ( 23, she/her, gmt ) bringing u yet another baby i dug out of the trash and vomited onto the dashboard. a fake psychic slash rodeo bull sensation studying at hendrix but born in marfa, texas. luvs wearing gingham print dresses and cowboy boots n always in loads of rings and necklaces w flowers in her hair. very into art and pornography, and particularly the combination of the two. wants to do a PHD on gender studies and female autonomy in porn (yeehaw!). this is a pinterest board. without further ado, here’s frida !

hendrix template.

( cis-female ) haven’t seen FRIDA CALHOUN around in a while. the ELIZA SCANLEN lookalike has been known to be (+) SCHOLASTIC & (+) PLUCKY, but SHE can also be (-) DOGMATIC & (-) SINGLE-MINDED. The 18 year old is a FRESHMAN majoring in GENDER STUDIES & VISUAL ART. I believe they’re living in AUDAX, but I popped by earlier and no one answered the door. ( nora. 22. cowboy time. she/her. )

aesthetics.

a red gingham print dress from your childhood that tugs at the seams and hitches at your thighs. brown cowboy boots still thick with the dirt of a marfa desert. stripper heels decorated with hello kitty stickers. a crystal ball you bought for a dollar from a one-eyed woman at a thrift store. dead flowers clinging to the braids of your hair. a rucksack permanently packed for the move. a streak of red across your lips. roller blades, cut knees, not eating your greens. smiling with a mouthful of blood. the female orgasm cut and pasted from pornhub and superimposed onto renaissance art. sweet wrappers scattered over the vinyl seats of an older man’s car. also this pic here is a big frida mood

connection to eva & did they choose her name during the watershed?

study abroad mentor. when frida moved to the netherlands to study, she was assigned a mentor to help her settle into campus life, since she was not of dutch heritage. eva was her mentor for her first few weeks of study, though they weren’t really friends. occasionally they hung out if they saw each other out at night, but they weren’t like... super close.

ok,.... so first up ! despite going to uni in amsterdam, this gal was born and raised in the ole’ U.S of A. she’s from marfa, texas. it’s a very arty place. she was surrounded by art wankers as a child and it kind of educated her to a lot of shit, but also meant she grew up p fast?? like she learned about sex and death and violence from all these art people who thot they were Freeing her Superego n makin a genius child bt rlly.... they shd hav just let her play with dirt rather than showin her artistic representations of the inside of a dead bird.

BACKSTORY TIME.. her mother was from the wrong side of the tracks, wanted 2 go to art school and started working as an erotic dancer to pay for college but then jst.... ended up staying there. one of those girls u see in the documentaries who had Big Plans but ultimately never got to pursue them n jst got.... sucked in by the money

frida was raised in dressing rooms surrounded by sparkly costumes and nipple pasties and leotards and the like. as a kid she’d try to trot about in her moms heels n yearned for the day she’d be able to be on stage.

if you’ve seen pretty baby its a bit similar to tht..... her mom works in a brothel n has her quite young n the expectation is her daughter will probs end up working at the brothel too when she's old enough. no1 really expected frida to get into a good uni or anythin

frida was p much raised by the town, to be honest. most of her youth was spent scurrying about half naked in cowboy boots and glasses too big for her face. a smol feral child

as a kid used to lie about being able to see dead people bcos she thought it’d make her seem cool and interesting to other kids n it got the attention of the girls her mom worked with. but when her mom realised people were willing to actually believe a 7 year old had seen their dead scorned lover, she saw it as an opportunity to swindle some extra cash and registered her as a child psychic n started putting adds out in local papers for palm readings and tarot predictions.

when her mom hit 30s she couldn't hack being a sex worker any more, so she set up her own fortune telling business and hired a load of the girls from the club to be fake psychics. it was sort of a fortune telling parlour slash brothel, bt they kept tht very under wraps. palm reading upstairs, handjobs downstairs. the reason why some of the women from the strip club agreed to work there was because it was a business actually run by a woman who got what was going on, n not jst someone trying to make quick cash out of old men wanking

as a child, frida was on a few tv shows in the netherlands making psychic predictions in front of live tv audiences and attempting to reach out to the spirits of their loved ones. this con continued into her teenage years, she even did youtube videos n had minor success, though she was accused of being a cheap horoscope predicter and packed it in shortly after a twitter backlash.

if pressed, frida still claims to have a gift, but that it's not as simple as switching a light on and off, it comes when it comes, you can't summon it, and that's how she gets out of being labelled a fraud if anyone who recognises her demands a reading.

ws street smart, but also did super well at school? quite charming as a kid and good at winning adults over because of a life growing up basically conning rich white women out of their money just by telling them stuff they wanted to hear. was moved up a grade in junior high and graduated early. attended a summer school, before choosing to study in amsterdam because of the appeal of the red light district. very interested in the lives of sex workers and the way they express themselves. is only a freshman but, is like, 50% through her degree already jst cos she’s..... super passionate about her subject getting recognised as a legitimate brand of academia

she wanted to study gender performativity in the lives of sex workers and plans to do her thesis on the porn industry. it might be because of her childhood, growing up surrounded by sex workers, but she's obsessed with it, looks at mathematical structures and symbols in porn through a lens of politics and art history. very interested in visual art.

some ?mildly amusing? facts

owns 4 tarot decks and a crystal ball she bought frm an old lady with one eye

favourite drink is cherry coke

part of a burlesque collective at hendrix university who run speakeasy nights. is trying to set up her own small-scale grassroots burlesque group in one of the more mainstream clubs along the strip bcos there’s so much money and female tourists go wild 4 it

sells nudes on twitter. whenever she gets low on cash she contacts one of the seedy old men who used to visit her mom's club to venmo her $500 in return for pictures

that girl who’s always harping on about body positivity on instagram while wearing cute underwear and looking absolutely bomb

really good at rodeo bull riding. the club in marfa had one so as a youth she got really good at it bcos she was constantly tryin to outdo her friends on who could stay on for the longest. a video of her staying on one for like 4 minutes after downing several jager bombs went viral once.

smol baby. 5′4. wears a lot of cute summer dresses n big boots. gingham is her usual dress style, or like red plaid, n then she’ll either have big white cowboy boots with spokes on the back or the really long doc martens. also owns a lot of abba-esque gogo boots and 90s creepers. flats?? who are they. has her hair in braids a lot, and usually has flowers or feathers threaded through it to add to her whole “mystic” vibe

micro-doses acid for mild depression bcos she didn’t believe in “that CBT bullshit”, thought that therapists, like her, were jst con artists so always a bit spaced out

her flirting technique is absolutely offering to read your palm. she used to do it all the time at school its how she met most of her eighth grade boyfriends.

volunteers at one of the local galleries but mostly just rants to old white dutch men about how cis white men have dominated art for years :/ is one of those SJW-types but only?? when it comes to art??

has a pet rat called popeye

takes photographs of dead animals to use in her art and often posts them side-by-side with stills of women in porn to show the shelf-life of female sex workers in a patriarchal-dominated industry or some bullshit idk

big into spoken word poetry, even if its shit. likes savage depictions of femininity

wrote a thesis on art as an act of masturbation that got published

big into capitalism and commodity culture. loves it.

wanted plots, fucker

ppl who are also studying @ hendrix but speak english !! bcos frida finished her exams a year early at like 17 n just up and left to amsterdam cos she knew if she got in-state tuition she’d never leave texas, she came to the netherlands with like, 40 dollars and a phrase book. eva was kind of her study-abroad mentor to help her settle into amsterdam campus life

ppl she met at an inter-school maths championship competition or something really fuckin nerdy like that. she probably got entered in a spelling bee or two, she was her high school’s pride and joy until people started calling her a slut in toilet door grafiti

hook-ups !! frida does not do relationships, she had several girlfriends as a kid but she enjoyed the thrill of the chase more than being with one person. pan, but not about befriending straight men. very much fuck-em-and-chuck-em wham-bam-thankyou-ma’am when it comes to guys. that said, if u think ur character cld get under her skin n try n change that by all means be my guest

other ppl who wld be in burlesque with her. also she goes to strip clubs n peep shows like every day, thats basically research for her, so if ur characters would be into strip clubs they might see her there

she volunteers at a few galleries, tht is also a possible place where they cld kno each other from

i feel like she’d be on student council if they had one of those. shes that kind of bitch, turning up like elle woods with a big feather pen or a light-up heart marker, slamming down some truths before upping and leaving to go for her 11am chai latte break

mayb someone she’s trying to coach into being more body confident through self-expression in burlesque.

som1 who attended the art institute in marfa for a summer n maybe knew her when she was a bit younger ??? idk

drama. angst/ horror. someone accuse her of being a fake psychic and she’ll predict your horrific untimely death

nice bike rides in amsterdam please

yea like this if u a) want to plot or b) think the self is as undefinable social construct and i will slide in ur dms to further discus ruckus x x

#water:intro #dropkicks this onto the dashboard x #lick it up like an oasis in the middle of a desert u thots x #depression tw #sex work tw #is tht a trigger??

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darlingandmreames · 11 months

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Rewatching The Ritual (again) and it's time to truly reach with some probably unnecessary analysis agdkfjdh

It's ALWAYS struck me how Luke isn't using the waist or chest straps on his pack when they're hiking at the beginning. Maybe it's just because I've done long hikes with packs like that but I can't NOT notice that he isn't using them, especially since all the others ARE using them. Carrying a fully loaded pack without using the straps is super difficult because all the weight is sitting on your shoulders rather than being more evenly distributed. It's an inefficient and uncomfortable way to be carrying a heavy weight.

It wasn't until this rewatch that I realized that might be the point.

Rob's death is a weight for them all. His sudden, brutal death is something they all have to carry as they try to process it and move on. But that weight isn't being carried the same way by all of them. For as painful as it is, Hutch, Phil, and Dom don't have to carry it alone. They can rely on each other. They can lean on each other and support each other and spread the weight around to make it a little less unbearable.

Not Luke though. The weight is probably the heaviest for him out of all of them- he didn't just lose Rob, he watched him die. Watched him bleed out. He doesn't have help carrying the weight though. The people he would otherwise turn to for support blame him for the fact they have to carry this weight in the first place. And so he's left carrying this weight entirely on his own, without any help. Just an unbearable, dead weight sitting on his back with nothing to spread it around or make it easier to carry. No supports- no straps- just the weight.

#the ritual #the ritual movie #the ritual 2017 #luke #I'm probably reaching with this but i still like it agdjksh #interestingly luke DOES wear the chest strap once they're in the forest. not sure what to think of that yet #local trash goblin speaks

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silvertsundere · 5 years

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dnd session 5,6 and 7 highlights

today we had session 7 and it went for like 5 hours. we had sessions 5 and 6 the 2 weeks before this one but I didn’t make posts about them cause we had to end the early because of me. however I’ll still add what happened while I was on (or what I remember cause it was 2 weeks ago)

session 5:

- we finally got to the town we had been travelling to for a bit - only to find out everyone was gone - we went to the local tavern and learned a rain had come and assailed the town for a couple days and after it, some weird kind of moss or fungus (idr) started growing around town and people started getting super sick and were all in their houses - however the tavern owner told us that the town’s alchemist had gone out to a nearby cave to gather some mushrooms to work on a cure for it - we went to it only to find her about to be tortured by some goblins (idk why cause I had to leave before we saved her) - after we beat the goblins, 3 hobgoblins showed up but that’s when I had to leave - as far as I know the party just beat them and went back to town and did the stuff to save the town - as a reminder we came to this town looking for the alchemist cause a tiamat death cleric we found previously was looking for alchemical stuff. - the alchemist (I think) suggest us to talk with an warlock to perform a ritual to find more out about said cleric and stuff. or we could go to solas (big city) and do that there, however the travel would be long so we decided to just do it with the warlock

session 6:

- we started by meeting said warlock and turns out he’s a summer elf whose patron is the archfey - he says that he’ll perform a ritual to summon his patron so we can ask it questions, however the ritual will also summon other creatures that will try to attack (us not him) so we gotta fend them off - BUT before starting that dangerous ritual he wanted to test us so he had us go kill 3 ogres that were fucking shit up - after that we moved to the ritual place and he started it. some portals opened and boggles and satyrs came out - I fought for a while but again had to leave early (cause my mom was visiting for my b-day) - the rest of the part finished killing them but that was just wave 1 tho they stopped there for the session

session 7:

- aight we just finished this one like 1 hour ago but it was 5 hourish long so I might forget some stuff - we started right where we left off, and apparently some ugly ass new monsters had come out the portal, they were meenlocks or whatnot and were p annoying - every 2 rouns of combat more shit came out from portals and this went for some waves so I’ll just say the highlights from all those waves in no particular order - I spent like 3 rounds trading blows with a shitty satyr cause my rolls were TRASH and he only did damage to me 1 turn cause I forgot about a reaction thing smh - before I killed it 3 more things showed up nearby and I was like “pff don’t worry I got this” but after I killed it I had taken some damage so I was just like “yeah nvm” and went back near the rest of the group - in said wave a buncha ugly ass redcaps showed up and they were p nasty buggers - like really one of them did 22 damage (p sure) to one of the pallys and knocked her prone and another put me at like 5 hp MONKA. oh speaking of 5hp after I killed the guy that put me there I ran away to heal and cleric got mad cause their healing spell is touch range and they were right next to me before I moved. - speaking of pallys both of them rolled crit misses in different turns and slipped and fell - also we all kept rolling 1s when we had advantage so thank GOD for that - the sorcerer put himself in harms way to try and cast scorching ray and hit 3 things. he did and killed them all. after which his fancy robe we got previously started glowing and dm rolled on wild magic table and he actually got a good effect. 20ft teleport as bonus action for 10 mins. which he immediately used to tp away from one of the nearby meenlocks - that’s all for the main chunk of it - however in one of the final waves a cyclops all showed up and we didn’t think much - that is until he went up to the main paladin which has 60 hp and put him down to like 8 or some shit in 1 turn the everyone was omegaS - however however the monk got lucky and managed to knock the giant prone and everyone went HAM on it, tho it didn’t die before he got to have another turn - in said turn he picked up a stone and chucked it at the sorcerer, who btw had mirror image up and had to just roll an 8 or higher to not get it. he rolled a 1. and got hit. and got immediately knocked into like -4 hp and was unconscious. - however that didn’t last for long cause the cleric instantly ran up and saved his ass leaving him alive but at 8hp. - we kept wailing on the cyclops including the pally doing a nasty crit while using divine smite too, which left it at 69hp which the dm made very apparent without saying it directly. - after we killed the cyclops we just killed the rest of the trash that was left but there was one satyr left by the time the next wave was about to happen - when the next wave started 3 ACTUAL giants showed up and we were all like “dude...seriously...what the f-” but before we could finish - the warlock finish the ritual, the god showed up, snapped her fingers and every enemy just, poof, disappeared from this plane AND THAT is where we ended this time - now we’re like 1.4k xp away from lvl 5 which is v exciting

our next session should be next weekend but dm has been busy with work so we not sure yet. we considering going with the campaign I had been preparing in case this happened but I still got maps I need do for it so big monka but we’ll see how things go

#next session COULD be next week but not 100% sure yet #silver plays dnd

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margridarnauds · 5 years

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Ronan Mazurier for the character thing. I want to know your first impressions of the Trash Panda Boi.

Keeping in MIND that my first time watching 1789, I was 17.

First impression

I’ll be honest, I think it was something like “Oh, he’s hot, but scruffy. Oh wow, they’re both hot. But I’m not bi as fuck, oh no. I just want them to both live and have babies and survive the Revolution.” Like, the ONE thing I can distinctly remember from my first time with 1789 was spending long periods of time looking up fanfic on ff.net after my creative writing class at my local community college, desperately hoping for someone to give me the “Ronan and Olympe live in the countryside and raise a litter of Ronans” fic my teenaged self so richly deserved. (Which…is HILARIOUS given what I WRITE these days. I came so, so close. Incidentally, I REALLY didn’t like Lazare.)

My issues with Louis Delort’s Ronan aside, I can STILL say that he’s pretty damn attractive. He’s just…also whiny. And bitchy. And really shouldn’t be within 5 feet of Olympe.

With Zuka Ronan, I don’t think I BOUGHT it? Mainly because I didn’t understand that Ronan was DESTINED to be a twink. I think that I thought he was too helpless.

With Teppei’s Ronan, it was like, “Wait a fuck, he looks familiar. Wait a second…is that L? IT IS. Oh my God he looks like a baby. HE’S SUCH A SCRAPPY LITTLE SHIT.”

With Kato’s it was, “…Oh. It’s you. Again.”

(These are really more my impressions from the 2018 trailers VS the 2016 ones, because Toho!1789 REALLY didn’t leave that much of an impact on me when I first saw the trailers. Yet another area where my teenaged self was very, very clueless.)

Impression now

Applicable to all Ronans, across the board: Scruffy Boi. Goblin. Also a definite twink. Possibly a reincarnated raccoon.

In all honesty, I’ve tried to put so much thought into him over the course of nearly two years, it’s hard to really put Ronan into WORDS for me. Like, he’s become very, very important for me the last couple of years. He’s very, very flawed, he makes some terrible decisions, he’s hot-headed, can’t hold his liquor, narrow-sighted, insensitive, and is basically like a cat that someone tossed in a pool at one point and sometimes gets into random fights in the street (also might have fleas). But he also has SUCH a huge heart and really EMBODIES the spirit of the revolution as it stood in 1789, idealistic and fierce and so TIRED of a world that told them that they were fated to die in the muck because of a trick of their birth, questioning WHY they shouldn’t have the same rights as everyone else. There’s just this…SPARK to him.

Favorite moment

When he high fives Charlotte during Au Palais Royal, that moment in the Zuka one where he starts singing about how they can be with the ones they love and Peyrol comes up from behind him, when he calls out the Revolutionaries for their asshattery…

Idea for a story

I have, like, 50 different ideas at any given period of time. I really, really want to get the Zombie Apocalypse AU off the ground, and the Assassin’s Creed AU (When I…actually…am able to get ahold of the glitchy Assassin’s Creed). And the Tanz der Vampire crossover (Ronan VS Herbert fighting for Lazare’s affections), the Terra Nova crossover, the Reincarnation Fic that is also a College AU…

There’s also one moderately fucked up thing I’ve considered as far as dealing with Ronan’s reaction to Thermidor, but I would be VERY scared to actually write it up even though it would be 100% consensual. And one of these days, we’ll actually GET to the main body of the Abomination, though I have no idea what the fucking plot is anymore.

Unpopular opinion

I don’t THINK that there’s really enough in the 1789 fandom to really…HAVE an unpopular opinion on Ronan? There was a time when I was a bit of a minority in the English-speaking 1789 fandom as far as actively LIKING him while still not really shipping him with Olympe, but I think the balance has shifted a little since then. My evil plan is working.

One thing that I’ve noticed a bit in, say, the Russian and Chinese fandoms in particular is to have a particularly weak, subby Ronan VS HYPER sexual, predatory Lazare and…I mean, I can ROLL with it, but I tend to think that with them in a genuine RELATIONSHIP, Ronan has Lazare wrapped firmly around his finger and is the one most likely to initiate…things. I blame Takarazuka!Laz for looking so smitten half the time while he’s interrogating him. Like, Ronan’s a sub, but he’s not SPINELESS. Peyrol wouldn’t have noticed him if he didn’t have a spine, and he’s going to call Lazare out every single step of the way. It’s a kind of odd equilibrium that they establish.

Favorite relationship:

I have no idea what to choose. Me? Have a favorite relationship for Ronan? What could you be- *a dozen unfinished Peyronan fics fall out of the folder I’m carrying* Fuck.

Either Peyronan or Ronan’s relationship with Solène, because the Mazurier sibs always have my full heart.

Favorite headcanon

I have so, so many Ronan headcanons at this point that it’s hard for me to keep track.

This is probably going to end up in the Abomination in some form or another, but Ronan got his absolute HATRED of any kind of injustice when he was about 8, when his mother died. It became obvious fairly early on that there were issues with the birth, and his father sent him to get help while he stayed to help her, along with the other women (Solène, ~6-7 at the time, stayed outside). He ran for ages, trying to find the local matron, but she was away somewhere else, so he went to the local physician instead, who swatted him away because his family couldn’t pay. By the time Ronan went back, his mother was dead, and even though his father told him time after time again that he’d done everything he could, he always felt a deep sense of shame over it, like he hadn’t done enough, paired with anger over a system that would turn a blind eye to that kind of suffering. That would come back in FULL FORCE after his father’s death, where he internalized his own guilt over escalating the situation with Peyrol into revenge.

Also, he’s a chronic cuddler, due to growing up sharing a bed with his father and Solène, often instinctively cuddling with Lazare for warmth. Lazare’s repressed, touch starved ass will never SAY that he secretly likes it, but sometimes, when Lazare is late in coming to bed (which is often, given that he’s a workaholic) and crawls into bed with him, Ronan will find himself being pulled over to him.

Also, he’s the reason behind most of the animals they adopt. Because he can’t STAND to see animals being abused and abandoned in the street, and Lazare, as we’ve established, is thoroughly whipped, even though he CLAIMS that Ronan is going to be responsible for taking care of them. (Somehow, Lazare is the one who always ends up walking the dog in the early hours of the morning, because, well, he’s up anyway. And one day, when Artois the cat is having stomach problems, he stays up the whole time. Which Ronan relentlessly makes fun of him for.)

#long post #ronan mazurier #I love him #drawn-and-talk-of-peace

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carrotnosewitch · 5 years

Text

feeling blah? check your space. (long step-by-step)

my husband, who is probably the smartest and most spiritually awesome person i’ve ever known, has been trying to instill this kind of mental acuteness within me for years. sometimes i remember it, sometimes i forget. sometimes i remember it but it’s a high pain day. y’know how it is.

this is a little things kind of thing at first. a lot of my time is spent in front of my computer and a lot of it is spent on the sofa or in bed. but wherever i am, i try to keep my surrounding area clean.

why? well let me explain, both in a spiritual way, and for practical reasons.

in a small space, like my desk and on my side table of my bed, it’s imperative to feel open and spacious. if my side table or desk gets cluttered, i feel claustrophobic, or overwhelmed by Stuff. even if it’s things that are there to give me positive thoughts. If there are too many, it’s time to declutter.

a lot of people (anxiety sufferers, a-spec folks, adhd people) have this thing that makes them block out things that stick around for a while. things that stay in a static place for too long become background noise, but they give a feeling of clutter. it also sucks when you’re looking around you and you’re hit with a wave of knowing it’s there to make you feel better, but you’ve gotten mentally weary of that exact thing that’s been there for a long time.

So, go over this checklist with me.

Things up on the wall near you. How long has it been there? Is it helping? Is it mental/visual clutter? If it’s not stimulating it you how it should, it’s time to take it down.

Your horizontal space beside you. Does it have a bunch of unnecessary clutter? Are there things in that space that don’t have any important or special reason for being there? If you can, remove all the clutter, and re-arrange the important things to suit your space better. Don’t move things you have a reflex of it being there. (Y’know. tissue boxes, meds, your tablet pen, etc)

Your outer bubble. Are there things in your immediate area beyond where you’re sitting which is distracting you or making you feel nervous, claustrophobic, or overwhelmed? Do your best to find a solution to this problem. Clean up, brighten the area, and put something there that helps you relax.

Another big help is getting your whole area clean. Don’t push yourself to do everything at once. Take your time to do a little here and there, don’t rush yourself or stress yourself out about it. This is an in-depth reason for keeping things clean, how to feel super accomplished even in the littlest tasks, and respecting your own area. Here’s YA BIG ASS LIST.

Your bedroom: Clothes. are there dirty clothes around you, or clean clothes that haven’t been put away? Do yourself a favor and unclutter this first. Take all the dirty clothes you’ve been tripping over and sort them into light and dark piles. Put those light and dark piles. now you can start putting your clothes away. how i do this is i sort my clean clothes by what they are and which drawer they go. then i fold them and put them away. it gives me a chance to stretch and pop my back between the steps. And that’s like, six whole steps. now you’ve got two clean baskets (presumably) that you can use to put your dark and lights into for easier laundry. This is usually the worst and most draining job of the bedroom. break it into easy to do steps. drink some water while you’re doing it, just to make sure your joints aren’t getting tired while sorting and folding and putting away! Dishes. Are there any dishes in your room? Even if they’re stinky and weird, bring them into your kitchen. Get a clean glass for your water. Hey! that only took a few minutes, I’m sure. Give yourself a rest. A+ cleaning, and I’m not being condescending. That’s a great job! Garbage. I’m sure you’ve got some papers or snack wrappers, or drink cans/bottles/disposable cups. go from the door of your room with a plastic bag, gather stuff up as you pass by it. bring that out of your room, and suddenly you don’t feel like you live in a landfill. Bedding. How long have you been sleeping in between the same top cover and sheet? When’s the last time you changed out your pillowcase? It’s time for a change. remove them, throw them in a pile, and put some clean ones on. If you don’t have other ones, wash those and once they’re dry, put them back on. You’ll feel cleaner and get to sleep better. Clutter. Hell, this is me all over. I’ve got too much cool stuff and paperwork cluttering my shelves. I follow the six month rule with paperwork, clothes, and useful stuff that barely gets use. Are you going to need it or use it within six months? If no, get rid of it or pack it away. Bring the clothes to your local thrift store if you can. If you’ve got decorations that have gotten dusty or grimy, take one of your bored days to clean them up. not only will you be doing something that makes you happy, but it’ll make your room far less apt to accrue negative energy. Your knickknacks bring you joy. Treat them respectfully! Floor: Vacuum. get the dust, dead skin, and whatever else up out of there. Side note: If you are having bad dreams, there’s a few neato things you can do to help you sleep. Some people swear by amethyst under your pillow. Some others suggest other stones. idk about y’all but stones under my pillow are somehow worse than troubles with dreams or sleep. I prefer sachets for in your pillowcase. even if you aren’t the best at sewing, you can do this. Just get a tiny white fabric baggie. whatever works for you. Just make sure it’s secure, so the herbs don’t get loose and make your bed an itchfest. lavender is the primary scent people go with, though I’m not the biggest on that scent. anise is another one that works, because this is silly but true: it’s shaped like a star. cedar, since the middle ages, has been thought to cure persistent nightmares, and open you to lucid dreaming. jasmine is such an awesome flower and scent, so mellow and enchanting. i’d suggest this because of its calming and kind vibe. find dried jasmine and add it to the bag. there’s a ridiculous many herbs worth exploring here. If you want to get spicy with it, I suggest adding a sigil or even an amulet of the one you want to look over you in your sleep. I use an amulet of the archangel Gabriel, who presides over dreams and sleep.

Your Bathroom: Your area rugs. These little buggers need to be washed. They’re usually made of fabric. Fabric that hangs out in your dampest room, no less. You probably don’t think of it often, but mildew is not a good thing for your health, and those things get mildew like crazy. Time for the washer and dryer again! Your towels and washcloths. How long has that washcloth been chilling there? Okay, if it dries and becomes a stiff nasty mess? Time to switch them out. Towels (especially hand towels) need to be washed frequently, too. Not only because the mildew thing is still y’know. a thing. but you deserve to be cleaned by clean things. it’s better for your body, and it’s so good for your spirit, to know that you’re doing right by yourself. Your place you keep things. You know, that place you keep your products, makeup, whatever. Is it in disarray on a messy shelf or counter? Time to fix that up! Set all those things aside, clean the surface they’ve been chilling on. Then you can get things sorted and aligned. Did you know straight lines are satisfying? Try it. Also if you have a candle in there, just light it for a little bit. Not only is it trés romantic and luxurious, but it burns the stank out of there, not just physically, but otherwise, as well. Your toilet. Not only the bowl. The bottomside of the seat, and the hinges that attach the seat and lid. and back behind those hinges, where the shitter meets the tank. Goodbye stink goblins! Also bye that general gross feeling. Your tub. You dissociate there a lot, think your thoughts, and get clean, but that means your dead skin, hair, and oils are all over that. I personally use either orange cleaning solution or magic erasers, and those fucking rock that shit out. Oh, don’t forget to de-hair your drain. Gross nasty gluck. Personally, my mom told me to stop associating those oils, hair, and all that other stuff with yourself. (and nail clippings.) This makes sure you don’t wind up getting hexed. (Those nail clippings and that nasty hair can VERY easily be used in a hex bag.) Your sink and mirror. First off, how the hell are you going to take bathroom selfies if this makes you always internally go “yikes”, and not at yourself. Scrub the toothpaste grit from around and in the sink. Side note: If you don’t like what you see when you look in the mirror, you can set rose incense near the mirror, use that hypothetical bathroom candle, and turn the light off. Speak into the mirror, “I am the best me so far.” or something similar. Remind yourself that you are okay, no matter what kind of imperfections you think are there. You are incredible. Nobody’s seeing your flaws because they’re too busy fretting about their own. It’s cool. you’re cool. Floor. while those stinky area rugs are out and on their way to the large cloth water vortex, take a minute to sweep. Envision yourself sweeping away not only the garbage and grut, but the anxiety and bad feelings. Dustpan, garbage, good. Trash. I left this for last. You’ve got a lot of stuff you’ll need thrown out. If you use a plastic shopping bag in a tiny little garbage pail like i do, it’s time to clean it out. If you’re also a nasty bitch like me, you’ve gotta also put the stuff that missed the garbage can in there too. Go take that to your main trash to go out with you next time you leave your place. Well now your bathroom is flawless and won’t make you subconsciously make you anxious. You’ve got things looking like they’re almost meant to like, exist in the fictional world Jenna Marbles apparently lives.

Kitchen: Fridge: Clean out all the nasty shit. Wipe it down. Put the containers over near the sink to wash. Dishes. Do you have piles of these nasty bitches fucking up your day, every time you go on a raid for sustenance? First step is to gather them, then take your time for each step. Wash them. Put them away. As you do this, speak to yourself, chant to yourself, or just think to yourself, that by cleaning these, you are doing right and fair to your body. a clean dish is a healthy dish. a clean pan is a pan that will cook happy foods. This whole room is capable of so much, and can do so much for your joy and health. Sink. After you’re done cleaning the dishes, you can unstink your sink. Again, I’m all about that orange solution, but if you like another scent that makes you feel energized, go for it. This is the part of the kitchen that shares like, a third of the work. This is where all the negative and gross goes. Down the drain both physically and emotionally. Get the fuck out of here, nasty! Counters. Just wipe them down until they’re not nasty and crumb-laden and have spatters on them. tell them that they’re going to do great things for you. If you’re a kitchen witch, you’re making all your cool shit on them. Stove/microwave/the heaty thingy. Ungrut it. our friend the stovetop is the unfortunate victim of nasty cooked on things. So is our screwy science friend, the microwave. Scrubby dubby! sometimes you’ll need to soak ‘em. Whatever makes it easier for you. Floor. It’s time to sweep! again, take that broom and use it, not just to get rid of sugar, cereal and even the dried corns nibblets that fell under the fridge, but the negative energies. again, be firm about it. Fuck outta here, dark spookies! carefully pour the stuff in your garbage. Ya Cabinets. Before you pull out the mop and bucket, don’t forget the surfaces of the cabinets. A Happier kitchen is a kitchen that doesn’t tell you the story of the ill-begotten incident of the chicken parm. You see that squidge of marinara on the cabinet door and have been annoyed by it since it was made. Time to get it gone. All the while, think about the things these cabinets have seen. All the weird utensils you never use that live in this drawer. The fondue machine you bought with the aspirations of having a 70s night get together, as told to you by that very convincing guy at IKEA. Think of all these cool things in your kitchen. Focus on the positive moments you’ve spent in here. Picture the future of this kitchen. And thank it for the memories to come. Floor 2: Slippery Boogaloo. Mop and bucket time!!! No seriously if you don’t like mopping, idk what to say. Do your kitchen a solid and scrub away all that nasty crap that didn’t make it into the dust pan. Once you’re done and it’s drying, feel fucking awesome about a job well done. Side note: Hey y’know what kicks ass in a kitchen? The scent of the season. A lot of people get down with the welsh calendar, and that’s a great way of cycling through the seasons comfortably for people. then there’s the regular four seasons, but do it how you want. It’s imbolc as of the time I’m writing this. I personally love cinnamon and sandalwood, since they’re both wonderfully warm scents, to balance out the wintry shivers of the outside. You can use essence oils, or like, airwicks, or candles, or even make a wreath with those fun things in there that are aromatic on one of your walls.

Living room Seriously, all these hot takes can be used in the living room now. Clean under and between the couch cushions. clean your decorations. declutter. Remember the good times as you clean. And then to cleanse it of all the gross energies, do what you do. Use white and sweet flower/herb scents to reset the most important room of your house’s energies. Side note: If you want to keep your stuff from disappearing, place a pin safely deep under your couch/chair cushion. This is called pinning the devil. you’re literally pinning down whatever it is that’s keeping you from finding - or straight up disappearing - your stuff. If you have guardians - decorations of animals of some sort - make sure they have a full spy of the room. I prefer putting one on each corner of the room so everything can be seen. This makes sure the energy you want in your home is respected. If someone has bad intentions, this will give off a vibe of them being unwelcome and feel your guardians’ eyes on them. If they’re someone that you appreciate, and you feel comfortable around, these guardians will keep things nice for you and give your home a welcoming feeling. don’t forget to dust them.

#witchblr #real witch #witchcraft #i wrote this

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