#anyway nice purple lighting ya got there Rook

[the-northern-continent]

A fun headcanon is to read Solas as an on-the-clock pride spirit first, everything else second.

Provoking people into defending their heritage and choices, because even when they disagree (especially when they disagree), someone leaves the conversation more prideful than before. Cavorting around for 10 years leaving eluvians unlocked, villain monologuing, and being Generally Menacing™️ because even if he gets stopped, he’ll be stopped by people who take pride in modern Thedas. Equating contentment to death, until Varric reframes it as fighting against the world’s attempts to take it away.*

If we think of pride spirits as personally prideful, it’s a bit like viewing sloth spirits as personally slothful. It may be situationally true, but it can mask their attempts to make YOU more prideful.

*Solas is not the only one coming out of that conversation with a change in perspective; go ask the viscount of Kirkwall.

[papa-rhys]

Rivals: Part 1 (AU Jacob Seed X f!Deputy)

Note: I fell in love with this Diner AU that @marymay-fairgrave came up with and I had to write something for it! Enjoy!

Summary: Rook - a retired cop on a quest to annoy the Seed family - thought it’d be fun to spend her extra retirement money on opening a sandwich shop to rival the Seeds’ bustling diner. Falling for the diner’s chef along the way was just an accident, though.

Word count: 1819

Warnings: Cuteness and a much happier Hope County

| Part 2 |  | Find more of my stuff here! |  | Spare any change? |

Joseph Seed may be a bit of an oddball, but there’s no denying that he runs a damn good diner.

The Garden of Eatin’ – an aptly named joint for a man of faith – is a quaint little place on the Holland Valley side of the Henbane river. It’s run by the Seed family; John Seed on greeting duty, with his pearly white smile and tendency to stare at customers a little too long; Jacob Seed in the kitchen, barbequing everything, including the salad; Faith Seed waitressing, batting those long eyelashes of hers and earning tips that border on extortion; and Joseph himself, running the operation from behind the scenes and lending his face to the posters and billboards that are plastered around the county. The business had been booming since the day it opened – with the beautiful surrounding scenery and the work ethic of the Seeds, they couldn’t have gone wrong. So when a retired deputy – nicknamed “Rook” by the locals – had the nerve to open a sandwich shop on the opposite side of the road, the Seeds were astonished.

The sandwich shop soon started raking in customers from all four corners of the county – including customers that held loyalty cards for The Garden of Eatin’. But if you’re feeling sorry for Joseph and his family of merry misfits, then don’t be. The residents of Hope County didn’t give up on the jolly little diner – to be quite honest, they couldn’t decide which they liked better, so instead of favouring one or the other, they alternated between the two and both businesses flourished in this quirky little county in Montana.

It’s 7 am – opening time for both the diner and the sandwich shop. Rook carries the sandwich board out into the street where it’ll sit for the remainder of the day, displaying the wide range of grub that’s on offer in her cute little shop. Placing it down on the pavement, Rook wipes the sweat from her brow and takes a step back to make sure the sandwich board is perfectly placed.

“You still selling those cheap-ass sandwiches?” Jacob Seed calls from the other side of the street; his jacket draped over one arm as he unlocks the door of the diner. He’s always first to arrive in the mornings and last to leave at night. Rook figures he’s more dependable than John or Faith, and Joseph must think so, too.

“You still burnin’ everything your customers order?” Rook asks in response, folding her arms across her chest.

Jacob gives her a wide grin. “You should visit my kitchen sometime. I’ll show ya how to fix up a real meal.”

“I’ll pass on that one, thanks,” Rook smiles. “I like my food without the metal tray stuck to the bottom of it.”

Jacob chuckles and shakes his head as Faith and John arrive from around the corner for the start of their shifts.

“Stop flirting,” Faith yells from a few metres down the sidewalk, earning a smile from John who walks beside her with his hands shoved into his pockets. As always, he looks like he just rolled out of bed – his hair tousled and his eyes complemented by circles in a lovely shade of purple underneath them. Rook knows two things about John Seed. Number one is that he’s fun to mess with, and number two is that he is not a morning person. Rook often wonders if Joseph opens the diner early purposely so that John has to get up at the crack of dawn. If her suspicions are correct, then Rook likes Joseph’s sense of humour.

“Pfft,” Jacob scoffs. “Who’s flirting?”

“You are,” Faith laughs, lightly smacking him on the shoulder as she and John reach the door. “Now go inside and get the grill on before I tell Joseph that you’re flirting with our business rival during work hours.”

Jacob turns a light shade of pink and Rook watches with a smile as he disappears into the diner. Faith steps aside to let John enter the building before giving Rook a friendly wave and heading inside.

Rook rolls up her sleeves and heads into the shop, turning the sign around to display “open” on her way past.

“Howdy, partner,” Nick Rye beams as he enters the sandwich shop; the bell tinkling above the door as he steps through it. 

It’s lunchtime - usually the busiest time of the day for Rook, but things are going slower today, which Rook is thankful for after a late night of filling orders.

“Hey, Nick,” Rook smiles, wrapping up a BLT and handing it to Adelaide Drubman over the counter. Adelaide takes her sandwich with a smile and leaves the shop, winking at Nick on the way past. Nick watches her leave and looks at Rook to make sure she saw the not-so-subtle wink.

“What can I getcha?” Rook asks as Nick approaches the counter.

“I actually came in to ask ya somethin’ – nothin’ important, don’t worry – but I’ll take a pulled pork with a large side of fries when you’re ready.”

Rook nods. “So much for the diet,” she smiles, raising her eyebrow at Nick as he takes a seat next to the counter.

“What Kim don’t know won’t hurt her,” he says, picking up a menu and casually flicking through it whilst he waits.

“I dunno why you need to go on a diet anyway. You don’t look a pound over 250.”

“Har har,” Nick says, rolling his eyes. “I need to lose the extra weight I gained durin’ the pregnancy.”

“Nick, you know you weren’t the one that was pregnant, right?”

“I stress eat, okay? Expectin’ a baby is tough for dads, too.”

Rook shakes her head and chuckles, squeezing down his sandwich and cutting it into two halves. As she places it onto a plate and shovels a portion of fries onto the side, the bell above the door rings again. Sliding Nick’s plate over to him, Rook looks up to find Jacob wandering up to the counter with his signature swagger. She pulls her hair, tightening her ponytail. “What did you wanna ask me, Nick?” she asks, purposely ignoring Jacob as he comes to a stop on the other side of the counter.

“Huh?” Nick asks, tearing his eyes away from his food. “Oh, nothin’ that can’t wait. It looks like you’re busy now, anyways.” He gives Rook a smirk and tucks into his sandwich.

Rook turns to Jacob, who still towers over the counter despite it being raised from the shop floor.

“Can I help you, Jacob?” she asks. “I pin you as a sloppy joe kinda guy.”

“I’d rather eat my own toenails than eat any of these soggy abominations,” he says.

“Better than watery mac ‘n’ cheese,” Nick chimes in; his mouth full of fries.

“Don’t talk with your mouthful,” Rook tells him with a half-smile.

“Change the record, Rye,” Jacob says, rolling his eyes. “I notice you didn’t mention in that shitty little review of yours that you finished the entire plate.”

“I was hungry… that don’t mean the food was good.”

Jacob opens his mouth to speak, but Rook interjects. “Now, now, boys. Play nicely,” she smiles, turning to Jacob. “What brings you into my humble sandwich shop if not the sandwiches?”

“Ain’t it obvious?” Nick asks. “He clearly has a crush on –“ Rook shoots him a warning look and he swallows his mouthful of sandwich with a hard gulp. “I think I’ll, uh… I think I’ll go sit by the window,” Nick says, grabbing his plate and sliding out of his seat before making his way to a table next to the window.

“I just came in to see if you got any ketchup we could have,” Jacob says, choosing to ignore Nick’s comment. “We ran outta ours and we don’t got another delivery until Monday. We’ll pay ya for it, obviously.”

“Sure. I got some bottles in the back, I’ll go get ‘em for ya.”

“Thanks, darlin’.”

Rook smiles at the words, throwing her towel over her shoulder and heading into the storeroom. After a few moments of rummaging around amongst boxes of napkins and sandwich wrappers, Rook emerges from the room hauling a huge cardboard box filled with bottles of ketchup. She struggles to see over the top of it and Jacob opens the hatch of the counter and takes the box from her.

“Will that be enough?” Rook asks, straightening out her apron.

“Oh yeah, this’ll be more than enough,” he assures her. “There was another thing I wanted to ask ya,” he adds. Rook leans against the counter and waits for him to speak. “I was wonderin’ if you wanted to grab a drink sometime? Maybe even tonight, after you close up? The Spread Eagle are havin’ a discount night and I thought we could…”

“I’d love to,” Rook smiles, watching Nick smirk out of the corner of her eye.

“Great,” Jacob says, hitching up the box under his arm with the cutest grin Rook has ever seen on a guy of his size. “I’ll stop by after I lock up and we’ll head down there.”

“Sounds good.”

Jacob’s gaze lingers on Rook for a few moments before he snaps out of his trance. “Right, I better get goin’. I got food to cook.”

“If you could even call it “food”,” Rook teases.

“It’s a damn sight better than the wet bread you sell in here,” Jacob chuckles, making his way towards the door.

“At least wet bread is edible!” Rook calls after him as he steps out into the street, the door swinging shut behind him. As she watches him cross the road and disappear into the diner, Nick slides into her field of view.

“The ex-solider and the ex-cop, huh?” he says, watching the diner door close. “A match made in heaven.”

“Enjoy your meal?” Rook asks him, nodding towards a splodge of grease on his shirt.

“Oh yeah,” he says, rubbing at the stain. “Listen, I ain’t got any cash on me, so could ya put in on my tab?”

“Nick, your tab is as long as my leg. You’re gonna need to re-mortgage your house to pay it off.”

“Oh, c’mon, Rook. For me?” He gives her a cheesy smile and Rook blinks at him. “Fine,” he says, pulling a crumpled 10-dollar bill from the pocket of his jeans and flattening it out on the counter. “Keep the change, partner,” he says, stifling a burp. “I’ll see ya tomorrow. Enjoy your date with Mr Mac ‘n’ cheese Aficionado over there,” he says, heading for the door. He steps aside to let a customer through the door, tipping his hat to them before leaving the shop.

Rook steps back behind the counter and closes the hatch, taking the 10-dollar bill and sliding it into the register. “Howdy. What can I getcha?” she smiles as the next customer stands before her.