#anyway!! thanks for coming to my tedtalk

[septembersurf]

woah i actually remembered to post a wip on a wednesday for once!!

miss grumpypants, coming soon to a tumblr blog near you

[wolfythewitch]

Aphrodite

[chapollyn]

Screenshot redraw from Star Trek DS9! As a person who's favorite dnd race is a changeling can you guess who my favorite little guy is? Come on, Odo lives in a BUCKET, he's so silly and so dear to me...

[bayleafpaprika]

thinking about how Oda chosing Luffy, a pirate, to be the protagonist of One Piece may be one of the most brilliant story moves by any shonen mangaka ever. by virtue of its main character being an in-world criminal, OP naturally lends itself to becoming a story about the exposure of a society festering with corruption for what it really is, and the dismantling of a dystopia and its propagandist facade. you simply do not get a story like that with a shonen protagonist who conforms to or tolerates the shitty system they're born into

[letuce369]

Tallulah's Redesign

As someone who hasn't had time to watch the QSMP/keep up with lore since Purgatory ended because of work, the recent change to Tallulah's model is really interesting from a character growth perspective.

She spent nearly a year waiting for her dad to come back - staying with Phil, Chayanne, and occasionaly Missa.

They adopted her when it became clear that her dad being away for so long was negatively affecting her, and she got to experience the safety and stability of being part of a family unit again.

After a year, Tallulah came to terms with the fact that her dad forgot about her and isn't coming back (he only sent her 3(?) letters and no others). She made the decision to move on, heal, and join the family that's been keeping her safe and loved.

She chose to dye her hair black because Chayanne's blond hair already matched Phil's, and Missa being gone for long stretches of time is something she's familiar with.

[skyloftian-nutcase]

The Pirate (Dad Squad)

EVERYBODY COME GET YOUR LINEBECK SOUP!!

Abel shook the strange feeling off of himself as they stepped through the gate created by the item. If it had led them here, that likely meant its twin had opened a portal to this land as well.

Blinking a few times to reorient after the brief kaleidoscope of light, Abel took in the sight of a bright sun, the smell of sea salt, and the sound of crashing waves. They were obviously by the ocean, though he had no idea where in particular, or what sea. He only knew of the Lanayru Sea, but tales spoke of other bodies of water that rivaled it.

Rusl walked ahead first, adapting quickly, eyes alert but face placid. Abel watched the Fierce Deity walk after him, unreadable as usual.

Something clearly caught their attention as they stood at the edge of the dock, staring. Abel peeked around them, wondering what it was, when he caught sight of the scene.

A ship was sinking. But it was moving towards them. Its deck had just been submerged, and its mast was all that was remaining. A man stood atop it, glaring ahead fiercely as if willing the boat to make it to the dock in time, but his posture was proud as if this had been planned all along.

What in the world...?

The mast managed to reach the dock in the nick of time, allowing the man to step off. He blew out a sigh, looking like his knees were about to buckle, when he caught sight of the group of men. He sized them up quickly, eyes widening a little at the sight of the deity, and then waved sharply. "How's it going? I'm just passing through. Gotta go now. Important things to do."

"Wait," Rusl interrupted, stepping into his way. "Can you tell us where we are?"

The man blinked, hackles less raised, confusion evident. "Where you--this is Mercay Island. How do you not know that? What, you get clocked by those red spandex wearing freakshows too?"

Abel immediately stiffened. "The Yiga were here?!"

"The who?" the man bounced back, looking even more confused as the wind whipped through his dark brown hair.

"It's a group of demon worshippers," Rusl explained. "They've taken our sons. We're tracking them. Where did you see them?"

The man's face flushed, eyebrows coming together in outrage. "They took someone of mine as well! And he's my best crewmate! Well, he's my only crewmate, but that isn't the point! I came here in search of a new ship to track them down since they--they sunk--"

Here the man sniffled, glancing away in seeming anguish at the lost of his boat.

"I'm sorry about your ship," Rusl said appeasingly. "But perhaps we can help each other."

The man hummed, crossing his arms and squinting at them as if he were debating the matter.

Abel started to grow impatient. "Do you want to find your crewmate or not?"

"Don't get short with me!" the man snapped. "I am Linebeck, captain of the seas, and I know this place better than anyone, especially you guys. I'm your only chance to find those freaks, so you're going to take orders from me now!"

The Fierce Deity picked the greasy looking man by the back of his coat, bringing him to eye level. The man, in turn, squealed, flailing his arms and legs in a desperate maneuver to get out of the hold, yelling, "LET ME GO, YOU BEACHED WHALE!"

Abel glanced at the deity, tempted to tell him to toss the man into the sea, but if he truly had seen the Yiga, then they unfortunately needed his help. Rusl just sighed, seeming to grow a little tired of being the sole negotiator of the group.

"How do you propose we find the Yiga if your ship has been damaged?" Fierce asked, silencing the man's squeals. "If I retrieve it, will you be able to repair it expediently?"

"Retrieve--it's sinking into the sea, you small brained land mass!"

Abel did have to almost laugh at that one. Rusl looked unimpressed by the man's impolite demeanor, but at least his insults were entertaining. Nevertheless, they needed to move.

Fierce seemed to sense Abel's impatience and Rusl's disapproval, casually tossing the sailor aside as he walked up to the mast. The man spluttered, shakily trying to get to his feet before promptly falling back on to his backside as he watched the deity singlehandedly start to pull the ship out of the water with a firm grasp at its mast. Abel heard the wood start to give, though, not tolerating the force it took to fight the water crushing the rest of the ship, and he put a hand on Fierce's shoulder. "Let it go. We'll have to find another way."

Rusl turned to Linebeck. "We'll work with you, friend, but not for you. Understood?"

Linebeck gulped, still trying to process what he just saw, and then he huffed, rising. "F-fine. Whatever. But I'm still in charge."

Abel felt his eyebrows pinch together. "That's not--"

"Let's go!" Linebeck announced, twirling around and marching towards the island. "I know just the ship we can acquire."

The three trudged behind him somewhat reluctantly. Abel bristled at being given orders from someone like this, but he kept his mouth shut for now. Instead, it was the sea captain who spoke first.

"So... what are all your names?" he asked as he continued to stride ahead.

The Ordonian answered first. "I'm Rusl. This is Abel, and Fierce."

"Fierce?" Linebeck repeated, glancing back at him. "Weird name."

"It is my title," Fierce clarified.

"Title? Who calls you Fierce? Fierce what, Fierce Breaker of Personal Boundaries?"

This man talked entirely too much.

"What's the plan?" Abel asked before the conversation could continue.

"That ship," Linebeck said, pointing towards a relatively large ship sitting in the harbor. "We can use that to track those scum."

"If you already had another ship, why were you perturbed at the loss of your other one?" Fierce questioned.

"It's not his," Abel surmised quickly.

Rusl smiled, rolling his shoulders. "All right, then. Who owns it?"

Abel glanced over at the Ordonian, a little baffled. He still hadn't entirely wrapped his head around what kind of work this man did - he was the most polite and kind of the group, easy with people, yet he condoned stealing in a heartbeat.

Not that Abel wouldn't steal if he had to, but... he had to. Rusl was... he didn't know. This just certainly was not the first time the man had done it, that was for sure.

And clearly, this sailor was more akin to a pirate.

Sighing heavily, Abel listened as Linebeck prattled on about some women "who won't be a problem," and the three men started moving steadily towards the boat.

Surprisingly, it only seemed to have two women aboard - Linebeck claimed that the rest of the crew was at the market. That at least made things simpler.

The four moved quickly. Rusl crouched low, leading the way and pulling out a dagger he hid in his belt. Despite being quite the swordsman, Abel had observed that Rusl often resorted to a dagger in close combat, and the more he saw it, the more he questioned the blacksmith's occupation. Fierce, on the other hand, left his hands open, likely not wanting to use his powerful blade on a couple women guarding a ship. Linebeck was also unarmed, curiously.

Sighing, Abel unsheathed his sword. He caught up to Rusl, and the two rushed up the gangway, picking a target and quickly overpowering them. Rusl never unsheathed his dagger, only using its small hilt to smack the woman across the temple, knocing her unconscious and covering her mouth as she fell. Her companion caught sight of him before Abel could get to her, yelling, but Abel easily tossed her overboard while Rusl pushed the other down the ramp.

Fierce walked aboard next, glancing around, while Linebeck sauntered aboard. The pirate's face was tight, as if he hadn't quite expected the ferocity the men had displayed, but he tried to cover it with a quick little, "Well done. Now we can depart."

"Not yet," Fierce said quietly, his voice in that low tone he used when stalking prey. Abel immediately went alert, whirling to find what he was looking at, when--

"Intruders!!"

Turning sharply, Abel saw a woman pointing from a door leading below deck. Within an instant, at least ten other women appeared, all armed and snarling.

"You said they were in the market!" Abel yelled as he readied for a fight.

Linebeck didn't reply, seemingly vanishing into thin air, and Abel only caught sight of his blue tailcoats slipping under a barrel.

"Did--did he just--"

"Not now!" Rusl snapped as their enemies charged on them.

Abel focused quickly, dodging a strike from a nearby fighter before parrying her blade and kicking her away to create some distance. Thankfully, he still had at least one functional shield left, and he quickly used it to block a jab from another enemy. Before he could retaliate, the two women were swept away by a... screaming woman?

Abel glanced to his right to see Fierce holding one of the fighters by her wrist and using her as a weapon to ram into the others. At his questioning glance, the deity explained, "The little hero usually does not approve of killing mortals. If these women prove problematic, I'll eliminate them, but for now--"

"Behind you!" Abel interrupted, pointing as another fighter tried to leap off the rail of the deck and stab Fierce in the head. The deity swatted her like a fly, and she rammed into the opposite end of the ship.

"Jolene!" some of the others shouted. Abel immediately perked up at the reaction - clearly this woman was important, maybe even the leader.

"Toss her off!" Abel ordered the deity, moving to intercept a few other enemies. He glanced to his left to check on Rusl and found the Ordonian starting to accumulate a pile of enemies who were on the ground writhing or motionless.

The former knight felt a swell of pride for his friend before looking back to see Fierce easily throwing the leader off the ship. As predicted, the others followed to check on her, leaving the men in peace temporarily. Abel put his sword and shield away to pull out his bow and arrows while Rusl pulled the gangway up to prevent them from returning. Moving to the edge of the ship, Abel nocked the arrow, aiming for a second before letting it fly. It sank into the woman's shoulder, making her scream in pain.

He nocked another arrow.

"Abel," Rusl interrupted, putting a hand on his shoulder. "The fight is over."

Abel continued to stare at his target. Killing her would put the rest of her crew into chaos. It would prevent them from following them.

Rusl's hand tightened a little, reassuring but firm. "Abel."

Sighing, Abel slowly lowered the bow and arrow. His focus was interrupted as he heard splashing, glancing over to see Fierce throwing the bodies overboard.

There was a scrape of wood on wood, catching the men's attention, and they all drew their weapons to see--

Linebeck, peeking out from under the barrel. "Oh, are they all gone?"

I'm going to kill him. Abel marched forward, eyes alight with rage, when he was held back by Fierce, who pinched the back of his tunic to prevent him from moving ahead. He turned to snap at the deity, but his words were quickly overrun by the pirate, who dusted himself off and continued, "Well done, then! We're ready to set sail! I'll man the helm."

As he moved forward on the deck, he scurried all of a sudden, filled with seemingly feral energy, and stood on his tiptoes at the railing, shouting, "THAT'S FOR ALMOST BLOWING UP MY SHIP TWO WEEKS AGO, JOLENE!"

Before anyone could comment, he rushed to set sail as if his life depended on it, guiding the ship out to sea.

Abel blew out a frustrated breath, and he felt Fierce release him. He kicked the barrel under which the pirate had been hiding, taking little satisfaction from it but having to get his anger out somehow.

Rusl took a moment to calm himself as well, though far less noticeably, before he walked over to the wheel. "So where are we going?"

"Bannan Island," Linebeck answered, eyes on the horizon. "That was the direction they went, towards the north sea. They also claimed to be going to a Banana Island, so I think they heard the place's name wrong."

Banana Island. Goddess. Sometimes Abel was almost embarrassed that these were his enemies. Though it simply proved that sheer numbers could cause enough of a threat, despite how idiotic they were.

There was silence for a while as Marcay Island grew steadily smaller. The adrenaline of the fight wore off, and Abel slowly slid to the ground, feeling his stomach grow steadily more upset at the tossing of the waves.

"Who are these people, anyway?" Linebeck eventually asked, glancing at Rusl. "What do they want?"

"They essentially want to see the world burn," Rusl answered, crossing his arms. "Somehow that involves taking our sons hostage."

Linebeck pursed his lips, debating some issue, and sighed. "Well, that's rotten luck. Good thing you have me."

"Oh yes," Abel huffed. "Where would we be without you?"

Linebeck didn't seem to catch his quip, or if he did, his rebuttal was interrupted by Fierce asking, "Why did they take your crewmate?"

Linebeck's face soured, and he glared ahead of him at nothing in particular. "Whatever the reason, Link can probably get himself of out of it. But... I need a crew. So I'm finding the kid."

Link?!

No. Surely not. There was no way this disgrace of a man had a Hero in his crew, and--

Oh goddess he did, didn't he? That would be why the Yiga targeted him.

"Our boys are named Link too," Rusl said, eyes widening a little as he came to the same conclusion. "Heroes of Hyrule, spread across time. I think they must be targeting them because they know they'd stop them otherwise."

"Heroes? Hyrule?" Linebeck repeated, staring at him. "My kid isn't a--I mean, he's--look, he's my crew, and... he's a good kid, but..."

The pirate bit his lip, staring at the wheel a moment, still and silent. Worry etched every feature before he shook his head.

"The Yiga will perish," Fierce assured him. "We'll find your child."

Linebeck flushed. "H-he's not my child!!"

"Right," Rusl chuckled, patting the man on the back.

Abel sighed, ignoring the pirate temporarily and looking at at sea. The horizon bounced up and down along with the ship, giving him a headache, and he closed his eyes. He wondered if they'd actually have any luck this time - all they'd found were scraps of information and cold leads. This attack seemed fairly fresh, so hopefully they could make it in time.

Ugh. Closing his eyes made the seasickness worse.

Thunder rumbled, catching Abel's attention, and he hastily opened his eyes to see dark clouds ahead. "Uh..."

"Are we going to sail through the storm?" Fierce questioned, staring at the abysmal weather.

"No sailor goes through a storm on purpose," Linebeck immediately said. "That's just suicide. Lucky for you, I'm an excellent sailor. We'll skirt around it - I don't want to lose too much time."

At least Abel could agree with the man on that. But still... even he, someone who did not navigate the ocean, knew not to get near a storm out in the open sea. "Are we sure about this? We should probably try to avoid it altogether."

"And give those sea vipers time to get away?" Linebeck growled, glaring at the clouds. "Ha! I, Linebeck, master of the seas, can handle this just fine! I'm getting my crew back, blast it!"

Well... he couldn't fault him for his determination, at least. But still... Abel sighed, hugging the wooden support rung under the railing, lightly bouncing his forehead against it. "We're going to die."

Abel's relatively mild quip felt more and more like a promise the closer they got. The winds picked up, the sea turning a sickly green, and Abel nearly threw up with how much they were being tossed around. Rusl nearly flew across the ship as one wave almost overturned them, and Fierce had to grab him by his shirt to save him. The three men clung to the rail desperately, occasionally getting beaten by walls of water spilling overtop them.

Abel looked to the helm worriedly, feeling completely out of control and petrified, only to see Linebeck standing firmly, holding the wheel with a steel grip. He glared defiantly at the sea, almost daring it to try its worst, confident and firm in his stance.

At the sight, the former knight had to admit he felt almost a little reassured.

Another wave crashed into them, and Abel watched Linebeck release the wheel a moment, letting it turn sharply, guiding the ship to ride with the wave. Then he grasped it, guiding the mast with gritted teeth as he fought against the whipping winds. Fierce pulled Abel close, shielding both him and Rusl with an iron grip to the railing so the waves wouldn't knock them off.

Honestly, with the way they were getting tossed, Abel would be surprised if they didn't capsize. He clung desperately to both the rail and the Fierce Deity, feeling the mythical being's strong arm pressing him and Rusl closer together. Rusl and Abel exchanged a look, some kind of finality or certainty in each other's eyes as they nearly flew over another wave, facing it head on.

They still had to find their boys. Abel had to get back to Tilieth. He'd survived a damn apocalypse, he wasn't letting this be what killed him.

Glancing up at the pirate again, Abel saw the same fierce determination on his face. It was a promise, and despite how Abel's entire world was trying to kill him, he took comfort in it.

Abel closed his eyes, his forehead touching Fierce's sleeve, his hand brushing against Rusl's as they both held on to the deity for dear life, shivering and trusting and letting go.

Hylia... I leave this up to you. Don't let me down.

He lost track of time. All he heard was the crashing of waves, like claps of thunder, roaring in his ears, making his heart pound. But slowly, surely, the boat jostled them less, the wind didn't howl as it had, and the ship rocked and bounced up and down like a hammock instead of feeling like an earthquake.

Abel opened his eyes, dripping wet, tasting salt and bile, and saw sunlight.

Linebeck smiled down at them, hands on his hips, looking triumphant. "Told you I was the best."

Rusl barked out a laugh, slowly rising while Abel continued to shiver in Fierce's hold. "Well, I'm certainly impressed."

"Are you alright?" Fierce whispered softly, his arm shifting to rest his hand on Abel's back.

Hesitantly, Abel rose, testing his legs, though his knees certainly felt like they could give out at any moment.

It was official. He despised sailing.

But he could recognize and admire skill when he saw it. "Well done, Linebeck."

The pirate beamed, postiively preening at the praise, and Abel found he couldn't hold himself together any longer, leaning over the rail and vomiting.

Linebeck cackled quietly, heading back to his original spot. "Well, it isn't for everyone, I guess. But I promise the rest of the way is less rough."

Rusl helped Abel sink back to the floor while Fierce grabbed some water at the Ordonian's request.

"You good?" Rusl asked. He was shivering too, just as soaked to the bone as Abel, but he seemed far better put together.

"Nothing fazes you, does it?" Abel asked hoarsely, somewhat annoyed and jealous.

Rusl smirked. "We all have our strengths. You're certainly a better fighter than me."

If you say so. Abel pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling a little less nauseous, and accepted the water Fierce offered him.

The sun slowly dried everyone off as they continued to make their way to their destination. Eventually, Rusl, being the talkative man that he was, starting gently interrogating their captain while Abel leaned against Fierce with his eyes closed. The deity didn't mind, letting himself be a pillow, but Abel could hear fabric shift as he turned to listen in to the other two.

"How did Link become part of your crew?"

"Well, I was hunting treasure," Linebeck explained. "Link wanted to find the ship I was looking for. His friend, uh, needed some help. So we worked together. I figured the kid worked so well it only made sense that he stick around. He..."

Here the pirate paused, and Abel looked over at him. His eyes were cast downward, and though shadows pulled at the dark circles under his eyes, he had a gentle smile on his face.

"He's a good kid."

Fierce sighed quietly, barely audible over the breeze. "I must figure out why these Yiga are after our children."

Linebeck grew flustered. "I said he wasn't my kid!! Look, he's just a useful member of the crew, okay? Honestly, I'm not that soft!"

Fierce blinked, the slightest crinkle to his nose, a dead giveaway that he was bemused. "You speak of love and affection as if they are weaknesses."

"Wha--I--this is silly, I am a pirate, and--"

"And?" Rusl prompted, eyebrows raised, a mischievous, gentle smile pulling at one corner of his mouth. Fierce may not have understood the man's blustering, but Rusl clearly was just trying to mess with him now, seeing right through his bravado.

Personally, Abel was just a little exasperated by it. Men who pretended they were "tough" and nothing affected them all the time simply to show off annoyed him. He used to maintain a calm façade not because he was trying to prove a point, but because the last thing people needed was to see someone in charge panicking. This was different. This wasn't a way to keep others feeling safe and secure, this wasn't a means of protecting others, this was a pitiful attempt for Linebeck to protect himself.

Perhaps it wouldn't annoy him so much if he didn't suspect the man behaved this way in front of his kid too. He could act a fool to others, but if he denied his affection for his boy right in front of him, Abel did not approve of that.

But he didn't have to say anything. Fierce's innocent confusion would tear down his argument well enough.

Linebeck huffed, looking like he was scrambling for an argument, but Abel had to interrupt it when he caught sight of something. "Is that land?"

Everyone turned to look, seeing a small splotch of yellow and black andd green, and Linebeck laughed triumphantly. "There it is! Land ho! I told you I would get us there in record time! Now hold on, you sorry land slugs, we're coming in fast!"

He was true to his word as it seemed to take little time to reach their destination. For once, it was blessedly easy to find their target - a large ship with the Yiga symbol on its mast, painted sloppily as if it had just been done, was at the port. Linebeck worked to slow their approach, when Abel instead insisted, "Don't slow us down, just ram it - we'll take care of the rest!"

"There's a cannon on this ship," Rusl noted.

"We can't risk hurting the boys if they're aboard," Abel argued, shaking his head. "Just damage it enough to stop them from escaping, and we can board."

Linebeck nodded. "Just so you know... it's uh, all up to you once we get there. I'm a fantastic fighter, but I'm afraid my sword is on my own ship."

Rusl and Abel both stared at him dully. "Right."

The men prepared themselves, weapons at the ready. Fierce pulled out his double helix blade, making Linebeck's eyes double in size. "Geez, overkill much? Get ready, we'll hit them on the port side."

"The--the what side?"

"Port, on the port--ugh, on your left!!"

The three moved, and Linebeck snapped, "Your other left!! Left from facing the bow!"

Abel sighed heavily, positioning himself and bracing for impact alongside the other two. As the Yiga ship grew closer at an admittedly unnerving rate, he prepared to jump.

Their boat slammed the Yiga ship, impaling its hull slightly and causing it to rock so severely that they could hear some of the enemies screaming and falling into the sea.

Linebeck roared in satisfaction. "HAHA, TAKE THAT YOU BRAINLESS JELLYFISH!"

Abel let the momentum of the movement carry him, Rusl, and Fierce across as they leapt with the contact. The Yiga boat was still nearly on its side when they landed, causing them to slip a little, but Abel recovered quickly, decapitating the first Yiga in sight before moving on to the next. The team moved quickly, with Fierce taking out swathes of the enemy in one fell swoop while Rusl tore ahead. Abel scoured the area for signs of a leader, entering the underbelly of the ship as well.

When he reached the brig, he froze, breath stolen from his lungs. There was another gate there, its bright kaleidoscope dizzyingly swirling, and two Yiga stood before it, holding an unconscious boy.

Oh hell no! Charging ahead, Abel stabbed one Yiga quickly, kicking the other off the child before finishing him off. Rusl hastened in shortly thereafter, wiping blood of his sword.

"Anyone else?" Abel asked as he knelt down to check on the child.

Rusl shook his head, cheeks flushed, eyes aflame. He held up a booklet. "Found a journal log, though. Might be able to help us."

At this point, Abel honestly wasn't surprised, just exasperated. He supposed the Yiga's main purpose in being here was to take this boy. Theirs were still at large.

At least they'd spared this boy the same fate.

Fierce entered last. "The enemy has been eliminated."

Abel sighed, looking down. The boy in front of him was young, not even a teenager from the looks of it, though he was likely close. His hair was thick and wispy, golden as the sands and thick with mositure and sea salt. He wore a green tunic and undershirt, paired with white trousers.

"Link!"

Catching the men's attention, Linebeck rushed into the room, kneeling down beside the boy. His hands hovered over him hesitantly, face paling at the abrasions on the boy's face. At first his concern was genuine, but his eyes shifted to the dead Yiga around him and suddenly he looked woozy.

Abel fought the urge to roll his eyes. He motioned with his head to Fierce, who quietly removed the bodies. With the distraction gone, the pirate returned his attention to the child, considerably less pale but still oh so hesitant and gentle with Link.

The boy stirred, squeezing his eyes before slowly blinking them open. Abel could see the immediate sparkle of relief as the boy registered seeing Linebeck, and the former knight smiled a little.

Linebeck smiled in return, hands finally settling on the child, patting hsi cheek and helping him sit up. His grip settled on the boy's shoulders, and he took a steadying breath.

And then he started shaking him like a rag doll.

"You stupid sea monkey, what were you thinking do you have any idea how much trouble I had to go through just to get to you, they sank my ship, now we have to get a new one--!"

The other men stared, a little caught off guard, and then Rusl gently pointed out, "Easy, you're going to give the kid whiplash."

Linebeck paused, glancing at them, leaving Link nearly limp in his grip, eyes dazed and clearly dizzy. The pirate huffed, pulling the boy to his feet, and Link stumbled around a few paces before nearly collapsing against him.

Sighing, Linebeck settled an arm around the child to keep him from falling over, letting him lean against him. "Well. The job's done, at least. But... didn't you say your boys were missing too?"

Rusl smirked. "Ah, so he is your boy?"

Linebeck jumped, eyes widening. "W-wha--no, I--you're dodging the question!"

Rusl waved the booklet in response. "I'm sure this log will have valuable information for us. But you and your son should get out of here. We'll make sure the Yiga can't come back."

Linebeck was practically inflating with hot air to rebuke Rusl's claims about him and Link, but he instead stormed out. "Honestly, I rescue you ungrateful sea barnacles and you mock me. I'm leaving."

"You forgot your kid," Abel noted dully as the boy shook his head and steadied himself.

"Link, let's go, what are you waiting for!" Linebeck called from above deck.

Abel put a steadying hand on the boy's shoulder while Rusl smiled warmly at him. "Better get going, son."

The boy looked between them, adn then the Fierce Deity, and then he nodded, saying softly, "Thank you. Thank you for taking care Linebeck."

With that, the kid ran outside, and Rusl laughed. Abel had to chuckle at the ridiculousness of it all.

"Let's get through this gate and seal it," Abel suggested. "We can read the journal after we get out of here. The less likely they can come back, the better."

Fierce's reply was cut off by voices from above.

"Linebeck, look! It's Jolene's ship!"

"Of course it is, I stole it!"

"But then why is your ship over there?"

"What?! My ship was--that's my ship!"

"Oh! I think I see Jolene on it!"

"She fixed my ship? SHE STOLE MY SHIP??"

Rusl and Abel exchanged a look, and then they both snickered.

Fierce glanced hesitantly above deck, but Abel shook his head. "Leave him to his fate. Clearly this is not their first encounter, and they've managed without us. We should go."

With that, the three men strode forward, preparing for another adventure.

[theaonlax]

"Akaashiii, the sunrise is beautiful isn't it?"

"Yes, it is."

[every-sanji]

[live-laugh-love-lupone]

Okay. Did some sleuthing. Found a few interesting things which I've now turned into a headcanon for myself 😂 (AHS season 11 ep4/ AAA)

1. Patti's character in AHS is a singer/owner at/of a bathhouse, who we watch overview a tryout to cover for her some nights. (The tryout song is Anything Goes, which is just a fantastic Easter egg, iykyk)

2. AHS character is once again Sicilian, and comments on having "eyes behind her" referencing her divination skills(which I'm taking as a sign and not at all a coincidence)

3. Bathhouse is in New York, which is right above New Jersey, where her psychic shop in Eastview is. (Lets assume within driving distance, stay with me here)

4. Let's just all agree that Lilias singing is amazing in AAA, so to be paid to be a singer somewhere else would make sense.

This leads me to my final headcanon- Lilia works some nights at the bathhouse, which is why she still has money to own the shop. (Also it's her house, so she doesn't want to sell) She still practices some divination here and there, but because of her self doubts, she took the singing job to make ends meet. She hired the other singer to cover for her, as she felt that a change was coming (Agatha coming to get her to join her coven) and she was going to need some time away.

Also, outside of the headcanon. The AHS season dropped October 2022, AAA started filming January 2023. Which is just good timing IMO.

Let me know what yall think! I could be totally off my rocker here. But there's just alot of things that lined up for me not to make a headcanon of a character and actress that I'm absolutely obsessed with 😂😂

[ace-and-sleepdeprived]

fucking love the fact that a select few people got so fed up with how much sexual content of miguel there was that they just went "okay you know what?? he doesn't feel that kind of attraction. he doesn't NEED that kind of attraction. we're taking his sexual attraction and throwing it in the trash so you can grow to LOVE and CARE for him as an actual PERSON and not as a weird sexual fantasy come true."

[felix-krain]

Underneath it all, we're just savages.

[wolfythewitch]

Hi guys I need you all to know I was listening to Elysian Fields and it got to the part that was like

Elysian Fields, where I can die

Elysian Fields, where I can--

And then my PC fucking blue screened

[wexhappyxfew]

oh goodness, what about soft john and annie with "it’s okay, you can touch me. i won't break." ?

AH HELLO!!!!! first of all; a massive thank you for sending this prompt in and for stopping by the askbox!!! it is so greatly appreciated in my lil corner of the world. and second - SOFT JOHN AND ANNIE!!!! coming *right* up! this was such a good prompt for them and i immediately saw it and was like - i need to do this Right. Now. and here we are! sincerest thank you's for this! please enjoy! <3

cold hands

(a/n): annie x brady girlies i am in shambles over this please know. a whole lot of annie's internal monologue and how greatly she is affected by her traumatizing youth - and her struggle to break free from that. and brady is a part of that healing process <3 annie bradshaw you will always be famous girl - never change! :D

Seeing him sat there, head bowed, body completely frozen had to be one of the worst feelings she had experienced in a long time.

And she'd grown up with a mother who hardly had wanted a thing to do with her, much less take care of the children that were in her care.

A part of Annie saw him as a little boy for the first time, in a way. Knowing that behind this strong facade of an Air Force Captain, who had flown B-17s all over Europe, over Germany, down to Africa, training his heart out, there was still that little boy who lived inside of him.

Annie stood in the doorway of the empty bunk room, entirely unsure of her next moves.

She was her own command pilot, a Lieutenant!

She'd gone through hell and back in her youth, gone through training where she was viewed as nothing more than the bottom of the barrel, fighting her way to both be respected and viewed as a pilot in the Air Force, and equally gone through constant doubt, grief and dismissal because of the fact she was a woman. She'd gone through multiple ranges of situations she'd been lost and confused in; but she'd found a way. She had commanded Silver Bullets on nearly 20 missions, risking her life day in and day out, she'd shown herself in every possible light and proven herself time and time again.

Yet, in this moment, she had no idea what to do.

She was usually great at this; dealing with her little siblings, answering their questions as to why Mommy was in bed again, or where Dad was, or why they didn't have anything for breakfast - yeah, that'd been easy, she'd gotten good at it.

Enough to convince herself that it almost wasn't true (even though it was).

This though? She couldn't stop standing there and looking at him and seeing nothing but that young boy.

Annie took a tentative step forward and it didn't take him even less than a second to look up from the ground and towards her, his hardened gaze immediately growing gentle at the sight of her there in the threshold, his white knuckles releasing the built-up tension that had been there previously.

She didn't miss the reddening hand-mark on his cheek or the bruising underneath his eye - something Bucky had warned her about before going in - she did miss him though.

Even if he was right there in front of her, she'd miss him. Those weeks apart, knowing he was here and she was back in Thorpe Abbotts - that had been enough for her heart to pull into two.

"Hey," she said, her voice quiet, immediately splitting the silence in the room into two, as a small smile darted onto her face, "was looking for you." Brady watched her, his eyes, which had turned soft and delicate like they always did when watching her, darted across her face, as if searching for a hidden wound he couldn't uncover. The corners of his lips rose upwards the slightest bit, the smile tight of his face as he sat up a bit straighter. He was always sitting up straighter, putting on the brave face, trying to do things for her instead of himself.

"Everyone's outside." she said when he didn't say anything - which, admittedly, had made her heart hurt a bit, "The sun came out. It may be gone before you know it." Annie watched Brady's face; she was getting to the point of noticing even the most minute of details about his facial expressions, down to the shifting of his eyes, the way his eyebrow would twitch, even when the corner of his mouth darted upwards or downwards depending on the mood.

She remembered when she was younger and her parents would get into a fight - Annie, at the peak age of 13 - would be shuffling her siblings off to bed, her older brother, Roy, still at work, playing peacemaker with fire and water. She could get to the point when she knew a fight would start - her mother's lip twitch, the blank look in her eye that slowly shifted to despair and guilt. Her father half alive on his feet, yelling about the bills and the house and that damn leaky faucet. She could picture those faces in her mind. Even sensing the slightest change in someone's face made her go into fight-or-flight; she was trying to get better at it.

"Annie." She blinked. Shifting her gaze towards Brady, he was slowly standing to his feet from the bunk, his tall frame coming towards her as he gently placed his hands on her arms, getting a good look at her face as if she was under a light.

"You okay?" he asked her, that worrying look immediately crossing his face like it always did. Annie looked up at him and nodded quickly.

"I should be asking you that," she said softly back to him, the corner of her lip perking upwards again in an attempt at a smile, "are you okay?" Brady watched her and nodded.

"Yeah," he said quietly, "just needed a minute to sit, ya know?" She watched him. "Keep my mind thinking, things like that." Annie quirked out a grin at him.

"Whatcha thinking about?" she asked him, her voice lighthearted as she gazed up at him with that softened gaze even she knew she used on him when it was just them, alone. That got Brady grinning wide, his usual smile a natural comfort to her at this point.

"C'mon, you can tell me," Annie said softly, leaning towards him, tilting her chin upwards with a smile, "I'm being serious."

"Just….things," he said, incredibly nonchalantly and off-handedly, catching her gaze and grinning slightly, "why are you still giving me that look?" Annie smiled at him, relishing the closeness of him, the feel of his hands on her arms, that look in his eyes, him simply there, staring right back at her.

Moments like this she reveled in and drank up. Because in her life, no one had ever taken the time to care for someone like her in a situation like this. She had always worried about the kids, her parents (despite their blunders) and especially Roy who had worked himself nearly to death for the Bradshaws. Now, someone was stood here, caring for her.

She couldn't help but wonder what went on in their brain.

"How'd you get that?" Annie asked him quietly, nodding to his slightly bruising cheek, the faint redness following. She watched him expectantly and held his gaze as he watched her back.

"I talked back. To the Germans, I don't know....I shouldn't have." Brady said quietly, "I hear the way they talk sometimes, Annie. Just….couldn't keep it in this go-round." Annie watched him, before slowly bringing her hand towards his cheek before hesitating. Brady smiled shakily.

"It's okay," he said with a hint of a smile, "you can touch me." He grinned wider, more genuinely. "I won't break." Annie softly encapsulated his bruising cheek in her hand, her thumb brushing against the fragile reddening skin on his cheek and met his gaze again.

"I could try and get you some ice," Annie said quietly, her mind spinning to get an idea going in her head, "or….I don't know, freeze water or something. It's cold as hell here anyway." Brady chuckled at her words and melted a bit more into her touch.

"I'd be fine just like this," he told her with another smile, "are your hands always this cold?" Annie let out a small laugh at his words and brought her other hand up to hold his other cheek, her thumbs brushing against his slightly stubbled cheeks, her touch evidently one of comfort for the both of them.

This.

Whatever this was between them. Holding each other like this, looking at each other like this, being this close without any sort of expectation or explanation.

"Considering how cold it has been outside," Annie started softly, "I wouldn't be too surprised. I did grow up where we were constantly snowed-in in the winter."

"That doesn't mean you need to have cold hands," Brady said softly, bringing his own hands up from her arms and layering his own hands over her own, grasping gently around her wrists and dancing his fingers over her exposed skin, peaking out past the cuffs on her coat, "this'll heal up in no time." Annie gave him a look.

"I'm getting you ice still," Annie said quietly, tilting her head to the side, the feel of his, admittedly, very warm hands, over her own, making her body ache for every part of him in more ways than one - along with the need to take care of him, "no ifs, ands, or buts about it, got it?" She caught that look on his face that told her that he was about to brush himself off again.

"I see that look."

"What?" Brady said with a small smile, as she tapped her thumbs lightly against his cheeks again, "You're reminding me a lot of my mom right now, Annie." Annie watched him, with a smile that warmed up her entire being.

"I had enough little siblings to take care of," Annie said, watching him with an almost more sorrowful look in her eyes than intended, "I guess taking care of others is what I do best." Brady's smile fell the slightest bit, and the room seem to turn into both a stale-air and stilled environment.

"You're the best at a lot of things you do, An, you know that." Brady said - his questioning sounding more like an adamant statement.

And this is why John Brady meant more to her than most - he seemed to notice those moments that she fell back on herself or undermined whatever accomplishments or bettering for herself that she might get.

He always reminded her of who she was.

"A damn good pilot, you could give me a run for my money any day," Brady said with a small, light-hearted chuckle, his fingers still dancing over her exposed wrists, over the few scars that were still there and scabbing, "and you know how to make the perfect cup of coffee." Annie let out a laugh she couldn't hold back. "It's true!"

"You just want a good cup of coffee, huh?"

"Annie." Brady said, almost adoringly as he watched her, his hands still on her wrists and cold hands, "I'll take the ice."

"Good!" Annie exclaimed with an uncontrollable grin on her cheeks, before standing to her tiptoes and bringing Brady's head to her lips, a soft kiss pressed to his forehead, something so damn maternal that she wasn't sure if she was even in her right mind, "I'll go get one of those metal tins. Fill it up." She looked at him with a smile. "And we'll get you healing up with that ice pack." Brady watched her with a slightly halted and dazed look in his eyes, gazing at her like she was a shining light.

"You're amazing, you know that?"

"You don't have to butter up to me, John," Annie said, brushing her thumbs across his cheeks again in a soothing manner, "I'd do it either way." She grinned. Brady watched her and grasped her hands tighter this time; firmer, more confidently.

"Really though, An," he said softly, "you're really amazing." Annie watched him for a moment, her eyes searching his, trying to figure out a way to respond to his words without sounding like a complete, wordless idiot.

Because standing there, she wanted to tell him the same thing right back.

Even more so.

He was beyond amazing - if there was even a word to describe someone like him that was beyond words a dictionary could provide.

"You're pretty amazing yourself, John," she whispered back, a tiny voice in her head telling her to accept his words, "thank you." He smiled at her. Beyond amazing, she thought in her head, way beyond anything her mind could conjure.

[demigod-of-the-agni]

#ooo he'd definitely get fluffenchops

broski you are so right for this. holding you up like simba rn

also coloured in the first drawing from earlier (guess it's a ref sheet) and now, i reveal to you all that the bird kinnara!pavi is based on is the indian paradise flycatcher. they're so sexy like what the fuck man

yes he has ten limbs (three pairs of wings + 2 arms + 2 legs) because i thought it would all add up to eight and make a funny comparison to 8-arm-spidey but i'm not a math student so i fucked it up anyway

[tiredfoxtf]

I just think that Minecraft is a beautiful game where you can create so much with so little. And it has unique ability to bring together so much of incredibly talented people - artists, writers, filmmakers, actors, coders, gamers or not. You don't have to be a gamer to play Minecraft. And you can't really hate the game at all. You can hate the developers, the stupid community discourse, you can hate any and all mcyt, but you have nothing to hate the game for. Like I feel like the only people who actually hate Minecraft are like feeling deeply unloved themselves and/or never played the game. It's not the game for everyone, but at the same time the game is like 12 years old and always comes back swining, beautiful as ever, because millions of people love it. Old kids loved it, new kids love it, adults had always loved it, the question was only how acceptable it was.

[wildstar25]

MiqoMarch Day 08 - Fav. (Side) Job

When she's not running around as Ninja or Summoner , Arsay's next choice is the lance. Being bestowed a source of draconic power by Midgardsormr moments before his slumber, and knowing how to channel the powers of Bahamut with dreadwyrm trance, Arsay's power as a Dragoon rivals that of even the former Azure Dragoon. With that said, she'd much rather use her polearm to hunt monsters.