loveable1234

[loveable1234]

River

The water lapped against the sides of the gently rocking riverboat Sudan, the sounds of gambling, shouting, and raucous laughter filling what would otherwise have no doubt been a quiet, peaceful night. Music played off a record machine, feet tapped as couples danced, and an excellent time was had by all.

It was the kind of scene Trouble would ordinarily adore, if it weren’t for the terrible sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. Partying, gambling, drinking, dancing… it left a sour taste in his mouth, knowing where he was headed. He kept his head low and tried to make his way through without catching anyone’s attention. He had things to do - weapons to clean and load, a letter to write for his little brother, a ceiling to stare at for hours on end as he tried to sleep… he had big plans for the evening.

“Kelp!” someone called out, interrupting his plans immediately. “Come sit down, my boy… we need another player.”

Trouble slowly approached the table, eyeing its occupants warily. He found five men - one of them wiry, thin, bedazzled with jewelry that clinked with his every movement and glittered in the lamplight, a more muscular fellow who was working hard to mask his keen attentiveness beneath a mask of indifference, a pair of massive piles of muscle who may as well have been twins for all that they nearly perfectly resembled each other, and finally a squat, rather hairy man wearing a smile so wide it looked like a tiger trainer could fit their head comfortably between those tombstone teeth with room to spare.

Trouble plastered a grin on his face that didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m more than willing to bet my life, Mister Diggums,” he said, casually hooking his thumbs behind his belt buckle and adopting a relaxed posture, “but I don’t gamble my money.”

The skinny one looked Kelp over, his eyes shining like the oversized bracelets on his wrist. “Come on, man,” he goaded in an American accent, a smarmy, surprisingly punchable, smirk taking up residence on his thin lips that looked like they were stretched too tight across his gaunt face. “Everyone is willing to bet something… For instance; I bet you five hundred dollars that we’ll reach Hamunaptra before you.”

Kelp felt a chill run down his spine. “And who says that I’m headed to Hamunaptra in the first place?” he asked through clenched teeth, his chest tight and his voice strained. He wasn’t a man who liked it when strangers knew things about him - strangers like this one knowing that he was going to the one place on earth he was willing to describe with the word cursed? That was altogether worse.

The rhinoceri flanking their narrower companion both pointed to Trouble’s rather pungent travelmate. “He does,” they answered in unison, not even bothering to lift their eyes from the cards in their hands.

Mulch at least had the decency to look nervous as he shot Trouble a bashful grin.

“So what do you say, cowboy?” the skinny one - clearly the leader of this little band - asked, that infuriating smile still plastered across his face. “Have you got the stones for a little wager?”

Trouble’s hands clenched into fists by his side. He would have liked to punch that smile out of existence. He was still trying to decide whether he would or not when the question was answered for him.

“A bet? How exciting,” remarked a new voice from beside Trouble. “You’re on.”

Kelp lifted one eyebrow when he turned to find the young organizer of their little expedition beside him. Artemis responded with a quiet nod, his hand falling onto Mulch’s shoulder and tightening meaningfully.

The well-built man with deceptively calm eyes seemed the only one to perceive the silent interaction. “Well, you sound awfully confident,” he drawled in a surprisingly high-pitched New Zealander accent. “What makes you so sure that you’ll fare better than us?” One of the behemoths chuckled, his broad shoulders shaking with the effort while his companion nodded along beside him with a smirk. 

This crowd did a lot of smirking, Trouble noted idly.

“Oh don’t worry,” Artemis responded, leaning forward to rest a hand on the card table. “I’ll be sure to let you know… as I count my cut of the five hundred dollars you’re about to pay me.”

Trouble couldn’t help but grin at the crestfallen expressions on the men’s faces. Artemis Fowl was not the type of man he saw himself spending much time around, but he couldn’t deny that it was enjoyable to watch the man in action.

“Well, there’s a bed calling my name,” Kelp said rather suddenly, clapping Artemis on the shoulder and excusing himself before someone found themselves tempted to lash out again in this game of wordplay. “Enjoy your game.” He couldn’t help but throw a playful wink at the Kiwi as he added, “Be sure you don’t go gambling away all of your money tonight… we only accept payments in cash.”

With that he lifted his bag onto his shoulder and marched away from the aft deck, angling for his bedroom. He hadn’t slept in days - not since he’d agreed to come on this journey, in fact. The Fowl siblings were offering him an almost obscene salary for his part in it… but he still wasn’t sure whether he’d made the right decision or not.

Speaking of the siblings, he found himself grinning when he recognized the shock of auburn hair sitting at the deck table nearest to his bedroom. Holly Fowl was easily the more agreeable of the pair - even if that was only because she provided a far prettier view. She was engrossed in a book when he approached, but turned her face up as she heard his boots on the wood plank flooring.

“Mister Kelp,” she addressed him, her tone professional. “You’re up late.” It was a simple observation, though her tone implied it was more of an invitation to speak with her than anything else. Her heterochromatic eyes studied him curiously as he neared her, taking him in with an almost clinical interest.

Trouble shrugged nonchalantly as he came to a stop beside her. “You have your preparations to make, Miss Fowl, and I have mine.” He gestured to the seat across from her and asked, “May I?” He waited for her to nod her assent before sitting down, then dropped his heavy bag on the tabletop and unrolled it, revealing a small arsenal of handguns, ammunition, knives, and even a couple of sticks of dynamite.

One corner of the young woman’s mouth curled upward in a bemused smile. “Mister Kelp, have I missed something?” she asked curiously. “Are you expecting a war?”

Trouble studied her in return as she slowly lifted her hand to stroke the grip of his short-barrelled Peacemaker with one finger. Most women would have reacted more strongly - fear, nervousness, at the very least surprise. He shook his head and ran a hand back through his hair. Holly Fowl was a force to be reckoned with, he was sure of it.

He lifted up a Smith & Wesson Model 10, making sure that it was fully loaded. He could tell by the weight that it was, but he visually scanned each chamber all the same. It helped relax him… somewhat, anyway. “Last time I was there, I was chased out,” he said tersely, keeping his mind on the familiar weight of the pistol in his hand to try to keep from thinking about the shrieking winds and panicking horses that had populated his dreams for the past three years. “There’s something out there in that sand.”

Short rolled her eyes. “Don’t tell me you’re one for superstition, Mister Kelp,” she chided playfully. “All that I hope to find out there is a book… what exactly do you think is there with it?”

“No clue,” Trouble answered coolly, setting the Model 10 down and instead grabbing a 12-gauge Model 12. “If I had to pick one word to describe it, though, I’d choose the word evil.”

Silence stretched between them - Holly stared at Trouble with the eye of a skeptic, and Trouble did his best to ignore her. She was the one to break first.

“Well, Mister Kelp, I need some sleep,” she said with a sigh, standing and turning to her bedroom door. “I’m sure that we will have plenty of travel ahead of us.”

Trouble watched her go from the corner of his eye. She moved more gracefully than before - more fluidly. He finally realized as she walked past him that it was because she had changed her clothes. Where earlier she had worn the long skirt and puffy dress befitting a woman her age, now she was dressed in trousers and boots with a thin blouse more properly suited to the heat of Egypt.

“You look better without the skirt,” he remarked, wiping excess oil from the chamber of his shotgun with a worn rag.

He didn’t even realize what that sounded like until she rounded on him, her hands on her hips and an incredulous glare on her face. “I what?” she hissed defiantly.

“No… I just… what I meant was…” Trouble stammered, his cheeks turning a deep red as he scrambled to explain himself. “You just…”

That was when he noticed the playful sparkle in Holly’s eyes. “It’s alright, Mister Kelp,” she cut him off with a gentle laugh. She leaned forward, resting one hand on his shoulder and grinning as she added, “I find skirts are too cumbersome for this particular line of work. It’s easier to go without.”

Trouble brushed his hair back from his forehead, a subconscious nervous tick he had developed over the years. “You’ve got to stop calling me that,” he said, changing the subject to try to distract himself from his embarrassment. He stuck out his hand to shake hers and grinned as he said, “Call me Trouble.”

Holly’s lips twitched up in a smirk, which was not nearly so annoying as those of the men he’d been speaking with earlier, he noted idly. She reached out to take his hand in hers and shook it firmly. “Goodnight, Trouble,” she said, her voice hardly louder than a whisper.

“Goodnight, Holly,” he answered. Then he had to turn back to his weapons to try to keep himself from watching her walk away.

Trouble ran his fingers through his hair once again. Cursed destinations, gambling idiots, and distracting partners added up to make a whole slew of confusion and distraction. He sighed heavily as he picked up the Model 12 again to finish his work.

Not for the first time and certainly not for the last, he wished that he had turned Artemis’s offer down. As he turned in spite of himself to catch a glimpse of Holly’s retreating form, though, he found that for the first time since agreeing to this venture, he was almost glad he did.

---

(This one in particular goes out to @blondetroublemagnet for liking a bunch of my AF stuff and getting me back in the spirit.)

[loveable1234]

"I wish Minerva was here."

Holly looked back at Artemis, puzzled: "Why? I mean, I get that she's your girlfriend and everything, but why now, in this exact moment?"

Artemis made a small gesture towards his younger self, awaiting for them: "Because she has a lot of experience in putting that little prick where he belongs to."

[loveable1234]

Disaster

Monday

"Hey Holly, have you seen Trouble recently? I've got a few questions for him," Foaly said as he clopped past Commodore Short's open office door, staring at the holographic 3D render of his latest mechanical brainchild and absentmindedly munching on a bag of something sugary that Caballine would seriously reprimand him for eating.

Holly stiffened slightly in her chair. "Last I knew, Commander Kelp was in his office," she answered. Her words were short and clipped, even for her, and she started agitatedly clicking her pen open and shut several times and obsessively pushing a strand of auburn hair out of her eyes roughly enough that Foaly almost wondered if it owed her money.

Foaly looked up from his work, his brow furrowing slightly. "Commander, eh?" There was definitely a story there. A story which Holly no doubt did not want to tell him. A story that any respecting colleague would leave politely unacknowledged. Unfortunately for Holly, Foaly was not a colleague but a friend, and friendship afforded certain amounts of nosiness. "So... you two broke up again I take it?" he asked with a grin.

"That is none of your business," came the terse reply, quickly chased by the loud thud of Holly's office door being kicked shut in his face.

Foaly stood there in silence for a moment and let his hair settle back in place, then started for Trouble's office with a chuckle.

Thursday

Holly propped herself up on the workbench as Foaly tinkered with her Neutrino. She felt like the charges were somehow pulling to the left. Foaly had explained to her in no uncertain terms that this was impossible - along with several rounds of "How did you get in here"s and "I have more important work to do than this"es - but somehow she still managed to get him to crack open the casing.

"See?" the centaur declared haughtily. "Nothing wrong here." Then he put himself between her and the blaster so that she wouldn't see him swap out the broken crystal that was probably to blame for her charges leaving the barrel wonky. She didn't need to know that she was right - it would only ever go to her head, after all.

Luckily, Holly wasn't watching very closely. She leaned back on the workbench and tossed an object into the air - an object that was decidedly too delicate to be treated thusly, Foaly noted with a snort of frustration. "Your toys keep getting fancier," she grumbled quietly. "Lighter-weight, less obtrusive, DNA-coded..." She almost managed to sound like all of the considerable advancements he had put into her standard-issue LEP equipment were a problem. "I miss the feel of a blaster in my hand. I miss -"

Whatever further indictment she was most likely about to level at his work was, thankfully, cut short by the chirp of an incoming transmission. Foaly gratefully accepted the video call immediately. "Trubs, good to see you!" he said with a wide grin.

Commander Kelp visibly bristled. "Call me that again and I'll sign you up for combat training with new cadets," he growled, and for a moment Foaly almost could have sworn that he was talking to Julius Root. On the screen, Trouble heaved a heavy sigh and continued. "The Council is breathing down my necks about the new design for the Spectrometer - do you have any... oh."

Foaly's brow furrowed in confusion again until he realized that the Commander wasn't looking at him anymore. He was looking over his shoulder. At Holly.

Suddenly the genius felt rather foolish. "Oh, erm... right. Sorry, I forgot that you two were..." he stammered, the words surprisingly intelligible despite the fact that they were being spoken around the hoof he had so aggressively shoved into his mouth. He looked back and forth between Trouble's projection and Holly sitting behind him on his worktable, wondering whether this was going to explode in his face or freeze all of his instruments up.

"You look good in that color," Trouble finally said. Flustered, Foaly's mind searched for some kind of response to that.

"I wear this color every day," Holly cut him off, and the centaur took a moment to be glad his smart mouth had been uncharacteristically slow in that moment.

Trouble shrugged and grinned. "Then I guess you look good every day."

If Foaly didn't know better, he would have thought he saw Holly's cheeks turn a faint shade of pink as she rolled her eyes dramatically. "Foaly, I have to get back to work," she said, snatching her reassembled blaster out of his hands and heading for the exit. "I'll talk to you later!" she called over her shoulder as the automatic doors swished shut behind her.

When Foaly turned back to the screen, the visage of the stoic elf upon it looked almost wistful. *Wistful* was not a word often attributed to the likes of Trouble Kelp. When he cleared his throat, Trouble started and looked almost bashfully at the tech whiz.

"Right, sorry," he said, using that word probably for the first time in the past five years. "I, uh... I have to go." Without another word he ended the call, leaving Foaly alone once more in his lab.

"You two are ridiculous," the centaur muttered to himself, then did his best to put them out of his mind.

Saturday

Foaly's home was a disaster zone - the kids, Mori and Caval, were in a particularly destructive state of their development and Foaly had never exactly been the best at organizing to begin with. Still, it wasn't the state of disarray that was bothering him... it was that no one had called him all day.

The centaur didn't think himself vain, per se... but he liked feeling like nothing could be done without him and knowing that he was the smartest fairy in any given room. He particularly enjoyed rubbing it in everyone's faces when they couldn't solve a problem without him. And yet here he was, actually enjoying his weekend without having to groan his way through a tech support call from Holly or a dressing-down on how far he had gone past his quarterly LEP budget.

Something about this was… wrong.

“Caballine, have you heard from Holly recently?” he called out. He wasn’t actually sure where his wife was at the moment, but he had long-suspected she had developed some kind of super hearing, as she always seemed to know when he was speaking. She always seemed to know everything, but that was beside the point. “She hasn’t tried to call me even once today. It’s odd.”

Caballine poked her head into the kitchen from her exercise room, her beautiful face pink with exertion and a bead of sweat hanging delicately on her perfect brow. Foaly took a moment to appreciate the fact that he had, somehow, managed to marry the most incredible creature ever born on or under the earth. That moment passed and the pleasant smile on his face turned to an expression of utter confusion when Caballine answered, “Yes, she’s on the surface for the weekend. Didn’t I tell you that?”

If there was one thing that Foaly, Genius Inventor (according to his personal business cards, at least) didn’t enjoy, it was being kept out of the loop. “Nobody told me,” he said, sounding not unlike a petulant child. “What is she doing up there?”

“Getting married,” Caballine answered as casually as if she were discussing the weather.

Foaly’s face turned bright red. “Married?” he almost shrieked. “To who?”

Then his wife smiled at him, and even in his agitated state it made Foaly’s stomach flutter. “You’re the genius,” she prodded playfully. “You figure it out.” Then she disappeared back into the exercise room.

Foaly stared at the wall, his mind reeling. Holly was getting married. Holly wasn’t even dating anyone, she couldn’t -

And that was when it hit him. Holly was getting married. And Trouble hadn’t tried calling him all day.

The centaur ran a hand through his hair and let out a tired sigh. “This is going to be a disaster,” he grumbled to himself.

[loveable1234]

Traintober Day 25

The Last One - The Downfall Of Steam

Scott stared at the letter. “Due to the dysfunction of your engine and the lack of a need for a driver, we will be putting your locomotive in static preservation. This letter has  been written to inform you that you will be defused from your engine in a week. Take your time to say your goodbyes. Defusion date - 23/2/2043.”

His hands were shaking, and the piece of paper slowly drifted to the floor. After all these years, he was finally going to die. Collecting his phone into his hands, he shakily dialled his older twin’s number. After a few moments, it was picked up.

“Scott? What is it? You’re crying,” Gordon quickly noticed.

“Gordon. I’m… I’m…” 

“Scott, you need to tell me what happened.”

“I’m being defused in a week.”

The line went silent. Horribly silent. There was not a single sound. Before, eventually there was. “What? Why would they do that?”

“New protocol for static preservation, I’m pretty sure.”

“Oh…”

“Can I go over to where you are?”

“Sure. Sodor’s a nice place to spend your last days.”

“I love you brother.”

“You too.”

Beep.

[loveable1234]

Apocalypse AU Jackson Storm: aka the guy who misses playing video games so much he accidentally becomes (one of) the last electricians/IT guys on earth.

excerpts:

All Jackson wants to do is play video games but everyone keeps making him go outside to do war and to reinvent telephone pole infrastructure.

[Lightning heard yelling from down the hall and is checking to make sure Jackson didn't electrocute himself again.]

[loveable1234]

Wrong order...

(based on that one tumblr post)

[loveable1234]

[loveable1234]

Enemies to lovers??

[loveable1234]

jackson will just say things sometimes

[loveable1234]

I feel like Jackson Storm is the complete opposite of McQueen from my previous post. Like Storm probably shops and goes to a lot of expensive places and has forgotten what the inside of a Walmart looks like and cringes at gas station sushi until a friend or his s/o drags him off to something like that

[loveable1234]

“I heard that it was basically 70% water.”

“Well that’s not even a terraforming job, you might as well be going on vacation.”

[loveable1234]

William Lancer was many things, unobservant was not one of them.

It took some time, but William began noticing a pattern around Daniel Fenton and his two friends Tucker Foley and Samantha Manson. They were near constantly late to his class, exhausted more often than not, several times he thought he saw bruises.

William Lancer noticed more things as the year went on, every time Daniel left his class in a hurry, there was a ghost attack and Phantom appeared, Daniel never reappearing until the fight was over, and typically sporting some form of injury.

William was many things, and a thespian was one of them. He saw the various masks Daniel put in place, and the masks that Phantom wore, and he saw that they matched. He takes it upon himself to help his student.

A month after he pieces together everything, William asks Daniel to stay after school so they can talk about something rather important. William is many things, a teacher, a thespian, an intelligent man, but above all? He is someone who cares.

Somewhere, a clock chimes. A being looking through mirrors smiles softly. All is as it should be.

[loveable1234]

The funny thing about Zuko having a crush on Sokka and Jet is that his perspective on it is "Wow, I definitely have a type," but Sokka and to a lesser extent Jet would be very much like, "What's that supposed to mean?! We're nothing alike!"

[loveable1234]

“Better luck next time.”

[loveable1234]

so is anyone gonna give sally a foil character from her past who reflects what she couldve been that she can have some unresolved sexual tension with or do i have to grab this game-only character and make up some messy history about them myself

she has a type and its overconfident fake blondes who are just sad wet dogs

[loveable1234]

lil concept doodles for a swap au ive been thinkin bout

[loveable1234]

anywaysssss i'm pretty sure this will be unimportant to ya'll but just now i played cars 2 audiobooks for my sibs and

it turns out Holley has a crown jewel of her own! after tracking down the jewel thief and giving them a chase, the queen rewarded her with her own jewel.

it's so sweet.

also canon, in another book, they actually asked siddeley to pick mater up for a mission in paris. lmq came along because mater asked. i didn't listen closely, but i'll check it out later.

cars 2 is canon and they can't deny it no matter what.