#be a thief in the night . . . [ SETTING : the isle ]*

[biteofwinter-archived]

@shehook sent ❛ you look sick to your stomach. ❜

"i'm aware i look like shit." it didn't matter if she looked like shit or felt it, she had to pull it together. she ran a hand through her hair, pulling the blonde strands off her neck and over the back of her jacket. she was too hot, but she didn't shed the armor that the red leather provided. "harriet, just ignore it. what were you saying?" alice walked over to one of the chairs and leaned on the chair back. so what, it was a bad day. harriet could tell, but she didn't need to know how bad. alice was here for a reason, she could still be of service.

[atlabeth]

i’m your gal — jesper fahey

summary: two durasts in the barrel, one a sharpshooter and one a gunsmith. blackmail’s really the only answer, isn’t it?

a/n: blackmail is love in the barrel i guess. also fun fact: i started this before i even started six of crows because i guess i think i don’t need to know the source material that i write fic for anymore but now ive read both soc and ck so im good

wc: 3.7k

warning(s): fem!reader, blackmail obviously. guns, talks of death, constant threats, questionable romantic tactics. kaz hates everything

You were roused from an unpleasant bout of sleep by knocking—slamming, rather—against your door. You frowned as you rubbed your eyes and stood up from your chair.

You had to stop falling asleep at your desk, you thought sourly as you walked through the narrow hallway to your “front door”. When you opened it, you weren’t surprised by what you saw.

“Fahey,” you said flatly. “I assume you’re here—”

“For my gun,” he said, pushing past you to get inside. “Yes, that would be right. Shoddy service that it took you all this time to get here.”

You scowled as you shut the door and followed him. “My hours haven’t even started, azel. You’re lucky I’ve even let you in—I should charge you double the kruge for your nerve.”

“Yeah, but you can’t deny your handsomest customer.” He winked at you, and you rolled your eyes as you pushed open the door to your office. At least he had the decency to wait for that.

“My most annoying customer,” you corrected. “Tell me, do you get your nerve from Novyi Zem or the Wandering Isle?” 

“Neither,” he said, his hand resting on his holster as he, per course, refused to take a seat. “It’s all homegrown by yours truly.” 

“How lovely,” you said wryly. You took a seat at your pathetic excuse of a desk and stared at him. “Do you have the rest of my money?” 

“As if I would walk in here without all my payment,” Jesper said. He pulled out a few wads of bundled up kruge, and you raised an eyebrow as you took them. You pulled the bands off and began to count, not bothering to look up at him as you spoke. 

“How much of this did you gamble away before today?” you asked. “If it’s honestly all here, then you’ll have surprised me, Fahey.” 

Jesper pressed a hand to his heart. “You wound me. Of course it’s all there.” 

“Forgive me for my assumptions,” you said wryly. “Your reputation just precedes you.”

“These guns are more important than my life,” said Jesper, and you couldn’t tell whether or not he was joking. “The money’s all there.”

You finished counting—it really was all there, though the differing amounts of wear and grime on the bills showed he had in fact won some of it back—and you chuckled. “Congratulations. You’ve managed not to be a thief for one day.” 

“That wounds me further,” Jesper commented, and he crossed his arms. “Now, I’d like to see my pistols, new and old. It’s been very difficult living without them these past few weeks.” 

“My work doesn’t come cheap, Fahey,” you said as you knelt down, “and it doesn’t come quick either.” 

You pulled your knife out of its sheath and pried up the floorboard from underneath the spot your chair usually was, then turned the lock back and forth until your safe opened. You pulled out the guns and set them on your desk, standing back up as you shut the safe with the heel of your boot. 

“Well,” you said, “what do you think?” 

You could have sworn he went a little teary-eyed, and you couldn’t help but smile.

When Jesper Fahey, sharpshooter for the Dregs and well-known for his ability to gamble away his life’s savings in a night, nearly toppled your door from his amount of knocking, you had half a mind to turn him away. But his Fabrikator-made, Zemeni revolvers were almost as beautiful as him, and when he offered to pay you a whole lot of kruge to make an exact replica, you could hardly turn it down. 

He carried twin revolvers everywhere he went, but apparently, during a heist gone wrong, one of the twins was fatally wounded. Jesper himself was a Durast, but he told you he wasn’t nearly skilled enough to bring it back to life. Word had spread of your abilities—a little more than you’d have liked, if you were being honest—and he found his way to your door. It took a lot of convincing to get him to leave the other with you so you could make a true replica, and you could tell every step taken without them at his side hurt. 

He picked up the pistol you’d made. He held it up to the light, knocked his knuckles against it, looked at it from every angle possible, then held up his other one and looked at it in comparison from every angle possible. Jesper spun out the barrel, clicked it back in, and did the same thing a few more times until he looked at you and grinned. 

“She’s beautiful,” Jesper whispered, and he tucked them into his holsters. A weight visibly lifted off his shoulders, and the electric energy that always buzzed around him seemed to dissipate some. “How do you do it? How did you get it exactly the same? Even the pearls— the damn sheen is the same.” 

You shrugged. “It’s my job. I’m good at it.” 

He shook his head. “I could kiss you right now. You’re incredible.” 

“You’re pretty, Fahey, but you’re annoying.” You smiled. “Let’s stick to business.” 

“How are you not indentured by now?” he asked incredulously. “Surely some merch has gotten their claws in you.” 

“I told you,” you said with a slight smile, “I’m good at my job. And my job includes staying independent.” 

“Surely everyone knows you’re Grisha by now,” said Jesper. 

You shrugged. “No one can prove anything. And if you say a word,” you looked at his guns, “I’ll give them a slow death.” 

Jesper’s eyes narrowed. “You wouldn’t dare.” 

You offered another pleasant smile. “Get out of my office, Fahey.” 

“Pleasure doing business with you,” called Jesper as he walked out, a hand held up in parting as he left you with a wink.

You just huffed a laugh and shook your head. One credit to Ketterdam was that you were never bored. 

-

“Kaz,” Jesper begged, “please.”

“Absolutely not,” he stated. “We don’t have the resources.”

“She is the resources!” he exclaimed. “She’s a Durast, and she makes the best weapons I’ve ever seen. Besides, she doesn’t have to be part of your circle—she’ll do fine as a plain old Dreg, or even just a supplier.”

“You’re a Durast,” Kaz said coldly. “Can you not do exactly what she does?”

“No,” Jesper insisted, “nobody can. She makes a living off of selling her Grisha weapons because they’re unmatched by anyone else’s.”

“I’m aware,” he said. “I’ve been keeping tabs on her ever since she sold her first weapon in the Barrel. She hasn’t encroached on our territory, so I’ve let her be.” 

“So you know everything she can do,” Jesper said. “Even more reason to hire her.” 

“I don’t see why you don’t just improve your abilities.”

“I don’t know, Kaz,” he said, making a mockery of his words, “I might just be trying to avoid earning an indenture.”

“She’s not indentured,” Kaz pointed out. 

“Because nobody knows that they’re Grisha weapons, not for sure, besides me.”

“I know,” said Kaz. 

“You know everything,” Jesper grumbled. “And any other person in the Barrel who has experience with Fabrikator weapons, I suppose, but that’s not the point.” Jesper’s eyes glistened. “There are a whole lot of suspicions floating around. And that’s how we get her.”

“…You’re suggesting we blackmail her,” Kaz said, and he leaned back in his chair. 

“I wouldn’t put it like that,” Jesper said, “but, uh—yes.” He cleared his throat. “We would be blackmailing her.”

“Go on,” he said. 

“It’s pretty simple,” Jesper shrugged. “She works for us for a reduced rate, we promise not to throw her to the wolves. You get to keep most of your kruge, she gets to keep her life and most of her independence, and we get the best weapons on this side of the True Sea for the Dregs.”

“Interesting.” Kaz glanced down at his papers then back at Jesper. “Anything else?”

His eyes glinted. “I saw Pekka Rollins outside her building the other day. I’ve heard through some circles that he secretly commissioned a few weapons from her—my bet is that he was testing her goods, and now he wants her permanently on his side.”

Kaz’s jaw clenched. Thank the Saints for his grudge, because it would make this a lot easier. 

“Talk to Inej and Nina. See if they know anything I don’t.” Highly unlikely, Jesper wanted to say, seeing as Dirtyhands knew everything that went on in the Barrel, but he nodded. “If you’re lucky, we’ll pay her a visit tonight.”

“You’re actually agreeing with me,” Jesper marveled. “Are you sure you’re feeling alright?”

Kaz scowled. “Don’t make me regret this.”

“I would never.” Jesper grinned, already starting to back towards the door. “You’d better prepare for a midnight escapade.”

He didn’t wait for a response—likely that he wouldn’t get one anyway—and shut the door with a sigh behind him. Jesper practically flew down the stairs, never so thankful for the rarity that was both Nina and Inej idling. They were sat at the bar together conversing, and without much care for it all, Jesper slid in next to them. 

“What an entrance,” remarked Inej. 

“I know how to make them,” he said, “but we tragically don’t have time to talk about my greatness. What do you two know about the gunsmith near the Exchange?” 

“Above the bakery?” Nina asked. Jesper nodded, and she grinned. “The Grisha Gunsmith. She’s playing a dangerous game.” 

Inej frowned. “How do you know?”

Jesper glanced at her. “You didn’t know?” 

“Of course I know.” Inej sounded almost offended. “I just wanted to know how you know.” 

“I can just sense it,” she said. “Maybe it’s a Heartrender thing.”

“It is not a Heartrender thing,” Jesper scoffed. “I know about her and I’m not a Heartrender.”

“I believe Nina,” Inej said, and Jesper groaned.

“You are all impossible, do you know that?”

Nina laughed and she held up a hand. “Alright. Yes, I know she’s Grisha, and we’re decently acquainted. Most of the Grisha in Ketterdam know each other—we pass things along, try and keep each other safe.” 

“So?” Jesper leaned forward. “Have you got anything?” 

“She was born in Ketterdam. Had a brief spout at the university before she dropped out, and then she decided to make a living in the Barrel.” She shrugged. “At least, that’s what she’s told me.” 

“That’s why she seems so familiar!” Jesper exclaimed. “We had a class together! I hardly remember what it was, but it’s not like it really matters now, but still—dropping out of university to recklessly sell weapons.” He couldn’t help but smile. “Truly a woman after my own heart.” He then turned to Inej. “What have you, Wraith?” 

“All of that is true,” Inej said, inclining her head. “She’s been making weapons since her university days, and she’s done freelance work for a lot of gangs over the years. The Razorgulls seem to favor her, but Pekka Rollins and his Dime Lions seem to like her too, especially as of late.” 

“Interesting, interesting.” Jesper nodded a few times. “Very interesting. At least I was right on the Rollins front.” 

“I’ve also seen her around West Stave doing work,” Inej said. Usually her lip curled when she spoke of the canal, but instead there was a glint in her eye. “She slips weapons to girls who need it most.”

Jesper nodded, and he held Inej’s gaze for a moment longer. “Admirable.”  

“Why are you so interested in this anyway?” Nina asked. “Seems a lot more trouble than it’s worth.” 

“I want her on our team,” he said. “She’s brilliant. I only have until tonight to convince Kaz this is a worthy investment, and I convince him by convincing you.”

“Then convince us, Fahey,” Nina said with a smile.

“Our dear Wraith.” He clasped his hands together in front of Inej and he saw the mirth spark in her eyes. “How would you feel if your knives could never break?”

“They don’t break in the first place,” she said.

“But if they did,” Jesper said, “she could fix them.”

“Couldn’t you just do it?” she asked.

Jesper groaned and pulled back. “Why does everyone think I can do what she does just because I’m a Fabrikator too?”

“…I have seen some of her weapons,” Nina said. “They’re near indestructible. I’ve heard she makes her bullets too.”

“She does,” Jesper said, giddy like a little kid as he pulled out one of his pistols and set it on the table. “This is Ace made, and it’s the best damn thing I’ve ever held. Doesn’t it look exactly like my old one?”

Nina studied it, reaching out a hand that was then receded with the look Jesper gave her. “Very much like it.”

Inej, rather, cocked an eyebrow. “‘Ace made’?”

“That’s what she goes by,” he said. “Y’know, ‘ace shooter’ and all?”

“Nobody calls her that in the Barrel,” Nina said, a grin forming as she crossed her arms. 

Jesper shrugged defensively. “I do. It’s catchier than the Grisha Gunsmith, and it doesn’t expose her.” 

Nina leaned forward, that glint in her eye that Jesper didn’t exactly like. “Your heart is beating pretty fast for talk about guns and catchy nicknames.”

“Ah,” Inej nodded, “that’s why you want her to join us so badly.”

“I want her to be on our side because she makes incredible weapons,” huffed Jesper, “and because I certainly don’t want her as an enemy.”

“And because you think she’s beautiful,” Nina cooed. 

“Which is not a crime,” Jesper defended. “So what? You flirt with anything that moves, Nina.”

She tipped her shoulder. “Fair.”

“I think getting her on our side is smart,” Inej said. “She deals a lot of quality weapons to a lot of gangs—funneling that straight to the Dregs would be of aid.” 

“Thank you, Inej,” Jesper said solemnly. “Kaz holds your opinion much higher than any of ours.” 

She glanced away, though the smallest smile curled on her lips. Nina grinned and nodded to Jesper. 

“Good luck with all this,” Nina said. “I hope the blackmail doesn’t ruin your relationship too much.” 

“This is the Barrel,” said Jesper. “Blackmail is practically flirting.” 

“Saints, Jesper,” Nina muttered. “It really isn’t.” 

-

Jesper had to admit, he did feel the slightest bit of guilt as he stood in front of your front door—rather, the door to the shoddy space you rented out above a bakery—Bastard of the Barrel next to him. Just this morning, you saved him from a fate worse than death and replicated his revolver with Fabrikator perfection he’d previously thought impossible. 

And now, he was thanking you by getting you stuck with the Dregs. 

Maybe blackmail didn’t pass as flirting, but it was just as common in the Barrel. It wasn’t something to make himself feel better, it was the truth—no matter how good you were, sooner or later, you would get caught up in a mess you couldn’t get out of. This was the smartest option.

Thankfully, he didn’t have time to revel in his thoughts for much longer as the door was opened, and you were remarkably poor at hiding your surprise. You looked a bit of a mess, and Jesper figured they were your rude awakening. You were still beautiful as ever, and he allowed a moment to take you in. 

“Gentlemen,” you said levelly, staring at both of them. Jesper couldn’t remember the last time he’d been referred to as a gentleman—the word was probably foreign to Kaz. “What brings you back—” you glared at Jesper— “to my door at this hour?” 

“A business offer.” Kaz looked every bit the intimidator and he wasn’t even trying. He was just standing there, gloved hands resting on the crow head of his cane, as he spoke with that coal rasp of a voice. “It would be smart to let us in.” 

Maybe you were better at hiding your surprise than Jesper thought, because your expression remained as still as your voice as you stepped aside and let them both in. Jesper noticed you locked the door behind them. He didn’t know what use you thought that would be, but he understood—petty comforts were still comforts. 

“Kaz Brekker,” you said, coming to a stop behind your desk. Your poster was a whole lot stiffer, tone much more restrained. “I never thought I would see you at my door. How’s your cane working for you?” 

“I don’t need a replacement,” he said. 

You hummed. “Good. I don’t much like crows.” 

“Pity,” said Kaz. Jesper swallowed, fingers tapping nervously on his revolvers. He spent so much time around Kaz, he almost forgot what it was like for those that weren’t used to him. The man was terrifying when you didn’t know he wouldn’t kill you. 

“Kvas?” you asked, holding the bottle up. Both of them shook their heads. You shrugged and poured a bit more in your glass.

“Remind you of home?” Jesper asked.

You huffed a laugh. “You could say that. Now, what do you two want?”

“Your service,” Kaz said. 

You raised an eyebrow. “You, or the Dregs?” 

“Both,” he answered. 

The gesture turned to a frown. “I’m afraid I don’t understand.” 

“We want you to work with us,” Jesper translated. “We want you to be a Dreg.” 

Your eyes flashed with something he couldn’t fully place. “And where is this coming from, Fahey?” 

He shrugged. “We could use your skills.” 

“My skills have been around for a while,” you said. You pulled out your knife from its sheath, and Jesper’s skin felt very fragile all of a sudden. He was very thankful when you instead started twirling it between your fingers. “Your intimate knowledge of my skills has only been around since this morning.” 

“I’ve been aware of you since you first settled in the Barrel,” Kaz corrected, and he tapped his cane on the floor. “Since the moment you made your first payment on this wreck.”

“Of course,” you said wryly. “Did you know that I promised his guns a very slow death if he spread word of me?” 

“His guns will remain unharmed,” Kaz said. “I can’t have a sharpshooter without pistols. And I can’t have a gunsmith without hands.” 

Your burning gaze turned to Jesper. He almost took a step back from the force of it. 

“I’m not stupid, gentlemen,” you said after a moment of angry staring. “I hear what they say about me, about the rumored Grisha gunsmith. I’ve managed to avoid an indenture by equal parts smarts and luck, but I have backroads—I can leave Ketterdam, Kerch as a whole, overnight if I have to. You don’t get to this place without being able to disappear.”

“You’ll find the Dregs are quite organized,” said Kaz, “and quite experienced at bringing our competition down. In spite of backroads.”

“Ah,” you said flatly, staring at the wall as you continued to play with your blade. “This is a threat.”

“It doesn’t have to be,” Jesper shrugged. “You work with us, nobody will have confirmation that you’re Grisha. And if anyone tries anything with you, you’ll be protected.”

“And if I don’t?” you asked lazily.

“You’ll end up indentured to some lecher or dead on the streets within a week,” Kaz said. 

Your lips twisted into a smile, which Jesper assumed was more of a facade than anything. “I love dealing with you Dregs. Straight to the point.”

“It’s a better deal than anyone else would give you,” Jesper said. 

“You come in here, threaten me and my business, and ask me to work for you for free?” You laughed sharply, stabbing the blade you’d been twirling across your fingers into the wood of your desk. “You’ve got some nerve, Dirtyhands.”

“It’s a simple choice,” he said, gloved fingers running down the head of his cane. “I assume you’re intelligent enough to make the right one.”

“And it’s not exactly for free,” Jesper added. “You’ll get a base rate from Per Haskell. And you can still take commissions from anybody so long as they’re allied with us.”

“So you’re telling me no more special orders for Mister Rollins,” you said wryly, eyes narrowed on Kaz.

Nothing in his expression changed, though the rasp of his voice became a bit rougher. “No. And I expect a detailed summary of all the work you’ve ever done for the Dime Lions.”

You huffed as you pulled the blade out. “I always thought I’d end up floating in the harbour or indentured to some councilman before I ended up working for the Bastard of the Barrel.”

“It’s not all bad,” said Jesper with a shrug. “We’re quite good company, if I say so myself.”

Your eyes trailed over to his forearm, his rolled up sleeve revealing the ink of the Dregs. “When do you mark me?”

“After you sign the contract,” Kaz said. 

“It’ll be extra protection,” Jesper said. “Another bonus. Much less likely to get nabbed off the street if you’ve got the Dregs on your arm.”

You stared at both of them for a good, long moment, hardened eyes narrowing in. Jesper could only guess at what was running through your mind at the moment. He knew he was thinking of how attractive you were when you looked like you wanted to drive that knife through both their hearts. 

“I’ll be paid enough that I won’t lose this place,” you finally said.

Kaz nodded.

“And I’ll still be able to make a living through commissions to those allied with the Dregs.”

“To your heart’s content,” Jesper confirmed. 

“I want you to do the tattoo,” you said, looking straight at Jesper. “You’re obviously the one that got me into this mess, so you might as well solidify it.” 

Jesper shifted uneasily. He hoped you would renege on your promise of a slow death. “Right.”

Again, you stared at them. And then you sighed heavily, plucked the knife off the table, and shoved it in its sheath. 

“I guess I’m your gal, then.” You threw back your glass of kvas, standing and offering a charming smile. “I hope you’ve got room for two Durasts, Mister Brekker. Otherwise, you’re the one that’ll be out on the street, pretty boy.”

Jesper’s eyes twinkled. “You think I’m pretty?”

“And far too annoying for your own good.”

He grinned. “You think I’m pretty.” 

And the slight upturn of your lips was worth Kaz’s incredulous scoffs. 

[bucket-barnes]

Suggestion from @tiredflowercrown

VK’s first Christmas:

Christmas wasn’t really a thing on the Isle of the lost. There was never really anything to be cheery about of you lived there so why celebrate a holiday centered around joy?

The VK’s were…perplexed by Auradon Christmas. Evie had always fantasized about seeing it for herself whenever she watched the holiday broadcasts on the Auradon news network when she was little, seeing all the lights and colors, not to mention the beautiful outfits. Oh how she loved those outfits, the dresses, the coats…how she dreamed of getting to wear one of those pieces.

Evie’s first exposure to a real Auradon Christmas was a trip to the fabric store with Doug, who was just as passionate about the holiday as she was. The two spent hours admiring the fabrics, the silk reds, the shimmering golds, the dark greens, it was all beautiful. Evie spent the next three days working on making her childhood dreams a reality, making fabulous festive garments for all of her friends: for Mal, a dark red, leather jacket with a dragon embroidered in gold on the back. For Jay, who cared more about practicality than style- a dark blue, woolen jacket with gold buttons and matching gloves and beanie. And for Carlos, a red wool sweater and white scarf (of course with a matching set for dude, who also received a pair of little red boots so his feet wouldn’t get cold on walks)

Mal got to spend the holidays with Ben and his family and it was…an experience to say the least. Every day Ben would give her a little gift or trinket leading up to Christmas, he loved spoiling her, one day he gave Mal a little dragon figurine he wrapped a ribbon around, and another day a little gold necklace charm.

Mal’s favorite part of Auradon Christmas’ was the music, the bells jingling lightly in the winter breeze, the jazzy and warm songs played in stores and Auradon Prep’s dining hall. On the Isle, the closest thing to Christmas music was the pirates singing sea shanties while drunk to distract themselves from the bone chilling cold, but in Auradon, Mal and Ben would go for long walks in town, Mal leaning against Ben’s shoulder to hide her smile while Ben just kissed her head and relished in the fact that he got to see his girlfriend so happy

Jay was never fond of winter on the Isle, whenever his father kicked him out he’d have to fend for himself in the cold, trying to find a warm place to sleep for the night, which was almost impossible. On Auradon, Jay actually found himself liking the snow and the cold (it definitely helped that he now had actually warm clothes and not just two ripped leather jackets and a pair of jeans) Jay and the tourney team often ended up having snowball fights on the field since it wasn’t like they could practice…Herkie was the hardest hitter.

When it came to Christmas, Jay took the opportunity to find the perfect gift for every single friend, after all, his time as a thief taught him to find the objects of the best value. He had gotten Lonnie a new dagger, with lotuses and other flowers engraved on the blade (and he payed extra to get her name put on it too) though his favorite gift he got for someone was probably what he got for Carlos- a framed photo of the two of them winning their first tourney game, it wasn’t flashy or shiny…but it was still special, and seeing the smile on his friend’s face was worth more than all the gold in Agrabah

Carlos loved just about everything about Christmas in Auradon, the lights, the songs, the decorations, the food… just seeing the snow outside made him happy. Jane had invited him to watch Christmas movies with her and though some of them were a little strange (especially the ones about small towns and the “true meaning of Christmas” but Jane said her mom loved those ones) he couldn’t help but fall in love with the warm feeling they gave him.

On the Isle, the winter usually meant it would be harder to evade his mom since Hell Hall’s front doors often got snowed in during the particularly bad blizzards that were rather common, but in Auradon, the winter meant sitting in his dorm room, watching movies and eating snacks with Jane curled up next to him and dude sitting on his lap while a fire crackled in front of them…a very welcomed change to Carlos

I hope you liked this! I didn’t really know how to make all my ideas into one plot line so if you’d like to see some of these made into their own stories let me know! Feel free to leave me more ideas, I’m gonna be feeling Christmas festive for the next two months so you’ve got plenty of time!

[boltlightning]

you know how i feel about princes. what's goin on with that dnd lad wip 👀

i've been working on a little short story about my wretched little prince, ronan, for a few months here and there! nothing hugely substantial but i want to revisit it this year. the entire premise is that he's a rebellious heir who moonlights as a gentleman thief who robs people for his deity — all without any inherent magic, in a high magic setting. meanwhile he puts on an act for his parents and their country at large that he's not very smart or diligent. he's an awful prince and also awful at being a prince :')

this is a challenge in writing a sarcastic and unreliable pov character without falling into the pits i hate so much about snarky YA protagonists. whether or not it works is up to the populace:

When Ronan's morning summons come, he groans. He does not need to fake the irritation, nor the exhaustion in his eyes as he greets the messenger at his solar door. “Their Royal Majesties wish to speak with you in the audience chamber,” the gnome tells him, swishing his pristine royal cloak back. He must be new; he fiddles with it even in their very short exchange. “Post-haste, if you will.” “Post-haste, you say?” he complains. “Regular haste is not good enough for Their Majesties? Gods above, that pace will kill me. I had a very long night, you know.” The messenger smiles tightly, unsure of how to proceed. How does one scold a prince on behalf of his parents? “They seemed quite insistent, Your Highness. They appear to have a task for you.” He hears the hesitation on the word task. Ronan groans again. The disdain for his parents’ order is also genuine, but the incompetence? It is all an image, and the worst kind of ruse to put on. Yes, the word around the whole isle of Ruannam is that the crown prince is a wastrel, spending his parents’ time and resources to pursue his flights of fancies, an amiable figurehead with no real responsibility, and while it is true Ronan does as he wishes, to be thought of as useless is insulting. His parents don’t trust him with anything for reasons very different than what the public believes, and he will begrudge it for the rest of his days. (His dramatic nature he also does not need to feign. Being dramatic comes with being a royal.)  “They’re asking the wrong man,” Ronan simpers. He needlessly tousles his hair, as if in frustration. “Very well, I will be there shortly. Thank you, sir.”

wip asks! ✨

[scotianostra]

On January 31st 1761 Lachlan MacQuarie, was born on Ulva, a small isle off the island of Mull.

Lachlan joined the Army in 1776 (aged 14) and served in Nova Scotia as well as New York and Jamaica. As a lieutenant he served in India from 1787 to 1801 and later in Egypt where he was involved in defeating the army of Napoleon. In 1810 Macquarie became Governor of New South Wales at a time when it was still being used as a penal colony. The previous Governor had been Captain Bligh of the “Bounty”.

Macquarie followed a policy of encouraging the former convicts to settle in Australia - despite opposition from the “free settlers” who wanted to retain privileges only for themselves. Australia would be a different place if he had not succeeded. He transformed Australia into a thriving country and Sydney from a shanty town to a Georgian city and is regarded as the “Father of Australia”.

His policy concerning the Aboriginals was an expression of the same humanitarian conscience. He organized the Native Institution (a school for Aboriginal children), a village at Elizabeth Bay for the Sydney tribe, an Aboriginal farm at George’s Head. Orders of merit and even an old general’s uniform were bestowed on deserving chiefs.

It must be noted also that he ordered The Appin Massacre, to round up all Aboriginal people in the area after some unrest. Those who resisted were to be shot. On 16 April 1816, at least 14 were killed by shooting; others were driven to jump to their deaths into a rocky gorge, near Broughton Pass.

So he wasn’t perfect, but who is, a bit of a rogue as well by all accounts, was adverse a wee bit of embezzlement, but managed to wriggle out of it, “laws” he laid down were of the strict Presbyterian upbringing on the Islands on the Inner Hebrides, nude sunbathing was banned as was “shooting a neighbour’s dog on a Sunday” As a Scot his ability to have a good drink were evident, of his army life in India he “took to the field” with “eight dozen bottles of brandy and Madeira” and “a quantity of gin”. One of his diary entries, penned after a big night out, shakily read, “No beer for three months’!

For the Australians reading this Lachlan also set aside land in Sydney for "recreation and amusement of the inhabitants of the town” He named it Hyde Park, it was here Australia’s first sanctioned horse racing took place. At one of the fairs at the park he organised, “ladies raced in sacks for a cheese” where men would bet on the results and have a laugh! At another two men competed in a mile foot race before slugging it out for 56 rounds in Australia’s first bare knuckle prize fight. Now the remark about the sack race might make you think he was a misogynist, maybe he was, but he was ahead of his time and a revolutionary for the fairer sex, giving plum jobs to women, with reformed banknote thief Elizabeth Killett appointed to run the Sydney Market.

But his liberal attitude to the convicts finally was his downfall, Macquarie’s critics sparked a British government inquiry into his rule and the governor resigned, setting sail for Britain in 1822 with a shipload of kangaroos for his friends and patrons it was said that…

“as a Scotsman he was drawn to an animal with an inbuilt sporran”. Other men may lay claim to be “The Father of Australia” but are any as colourful as oor Lachlan?

Macquarie died in London in 1824 while fighting charges made against him as Governor. He was buried in a Mausoleum on the Isle of Mul in a mausoleum near Salen with his wife, daughter and later son. The grave is maintained by the National Trust of Australia and is inscribed “The Father of Australia”.

As I stated earlier, and with a lot of these anniversaries about people born during the days of the British Empire, Macquarie was heavily involved in atrocities. I will point to one quote attributed to him....... in 1816 around the time of the Appin massacre, that all Indigenous people “from Sydney onwards are to be made prisoners of war, and if they resist they are to be shot and their bodies hung from trees in the most conspicuous places near where they fall, so as to strike terror into the hearts of the surviving natives”

You can find out loads about him online one of the sources can be found at the link at the bottom. The BBC made a drama-documentary in 2011 called The Father of Australia, https://nativistherald.com.au/2018/04/20/australias-founding-fathers-lachlan-macquarie/

[mysticstarlightduck]

It's Blorbo Blursday! It's sleepover time! Who is:

hosting?

picking the movie?

bringing the snacks?

the biggest gossip?

who falls asleep first?

who takes over the bathroom when getting ready for bed?

who snores the loudest?

Happy Blorbo Blursday to you too! Thank you for the Ask, @writernopal! 💕

OH, THIS IS SUCH A FUN QUESTION (:

If the character cast from The Last Wrath were ever in a sleepover together, it would be such fun chaos. Someone might end up stabbed by the end of the night, but I'm sure they would still have a good time!

Who is Hosting?

Definitely Ellinor Dallantes. This isn't even up for debate lol. She is the adoptive daughter of the Leader of the Assassin's Guild!!! She resides at the Unseen Palaces of the Guild! IMAGINE HOW COOL IT WOULD BE TO HAVE A SLEEPOVER THERE!!!! It would not only be one of the coolest, richest, and most sophisticated places, but it would definitely be the safest place on the continent to sleep in. I mean, there is nowhere safer to be than in the home of the most deadly assassins in the world, especially as a friend and guest of the literal adoptive daughter of the Leader of the Guild. Imagine having a sleepover in a literal palace of assassins. HECK YEAH.

Who is picking the movie?

(The Last Wrath is set in a medieval world where there this kind of technology hasn't been invented yet, but let's pretend!) This would definitely be one of the bards - Nyx, Sybil, and Kaden. Without a doubt. But I am fully certain that not only would they be incredibly indecisive about which movie to pick but Emryc and Azra would be arguing with them for the right to choose the movie they want. This would either end with one of the bards choosing a movie eventually or it would escalate into such chaos that Ansell would end up silently picking the movie and the others would not even realize it until the movie is 15 minutes in.

Who is the biggest gossip?

Emryc Thorne. This classy thief boy knows the secrets of almost everyone he knows and even of people he doesn't know, especially if there is some drama involved. He lives for it. He would be the kind of person to "spill the tea" whether you want to hear it or not. Emryc would definitely graciously sit down beside one of his friends and allies, sipping a literal cup of tea, and go "Have you heard that rumor about the Baroness..." And then go on about it for the entire night. Another person that would be a big gossiper is Orion Zyndor (a character I haven't posted anything about, but he is a former young sailor from the Storm Isles turned gladiator for the Secret Court) but I refuse to elaborate further :P (I just want you to have the knowledge that this sailor-turned-gladiator boy will spill the most ridiculously secret stuff on the middle of a sleepover conversation, without warning and as nonchalantly as possible, and will make it everyone's problem) (:

Who falls asleep first?

Azra Moorsworth, Bryn Seperi, and Nadinne Ahmirah. Azra will fall asleep anywhere that is comfy and warm enough, and will sleep as soundly as a rock for the rest of the night. Bryn might be already asleep while staring at the others from across the room, with his eyes wide open, or he might just be trying to creep everyone out. Nadinne would adorably doze off on Morwan's shoulder or while laying her head on her table, no matter how loud things are, but will wake up, completely confused, half an hour later.

Who takes over the bathroom when getting ready for bed?

Tanwin Lyrandeth. This might come as a surprise but our angsty elf boy is very proud of his hair care routine and will spend as much time as necessary doing so, with the bathroom door firmly locked. If anyone dares to pick the lock - thinking he has been there for far too long - they are doing so at their own personal risk and will get stabbed in some way (or get something thrown, with remarkable force, at their face, and be knocked out), because if there is something that triggers Tanwin like nothing else is his privacy being invaded without warning. Another person that might do this, is Raelen Ashiren. This girl would genuinely believe she is being fast but would take a long time to get ready, bless her heart.

Who snores the loudest?

Sybil does and is proud of it.

Who is bringing the snacks?

Fabian Anynth would be bringing the largely unhealthy stuff in ungodly amounts, because knowing Luciya, if he brings a normal quantity of food it isn't going to last two hours into the night. Yuna Thyren would bring those creepy snacks no one has heard about like ever, and be very smug about it as she raids the other good-tasting snacks everyone else has brought and doesn't touch the creepy ones she brought once (will eventually get Cassander or one of the boys to lose a bet and the price of losing said bet would be trying the prank/creepy snacks she bought. She'd laugh uncontrollably, and her friends would glare daggers at her, but she wouldn't let them back out of the bet).

BONUS +

Who plays the most childish, unnecessary pranks?

Vallerius would definitely team up with Kaden and Morwan for this one after someone falls asleep. Julyan would also be the kind of person to do this, but he seems so serious that, in the morning when everyone wakes up, no one even thinks that the prankster could have been him, and he would be very proud of what he did.

Who is the most excited (and who is the most confused)?

Zephyr and Jamie would definitely be excited, though a little bit confused, as this would likely be the first sleepover they ever had the chance to go to. Nethen would pretend he doesn't care but then would get very excited about something that is commonplace for the others.

Who has the most stupid idea (and who takes them to the hospital)?

Sybil, Raelen, and Vallerius would come up with the most ungodly stupid ideas known to man at exactly 3 a.m. Cue Ansell (panicking), Julyan (done with the world), and a very drunk Morwan (laughing her ass off at the stupid trio of teens), taking them to the hospital.

[soulbeastdragon]

Ignore this post!

Alekon

Alice Madness Return

Amber Isle

Baldur's Gate 3

Cat Cafe Manager

Cat Quest

Chrono Trigger

CINERIS SOMNIA

Cloud Meadow

Cozy Grove

Dark Souls: Remastered

Darkest Dungeon

Disgaea 4 Complete+

The Elder Scrolls: Arena+Daggerfall

Epic Chef

Fable - The Lost Chapters

Fallout

Fallout 3 GOTY

Final Fantasy IV (3D Remake)

Final Fantasy XIII

GRIS

GUILTY GEAR XX ACCENT CORE PLUS R

Hades

A Hat in Time

Hellblade: Senua's Sacrifice

Hollow Knight

Horizon Zero Dawn Complete Edition

I Am Setsuna

Inner Space

Jet Set Radio

Journey

Katamari Damacy REROLL

Kingdoms of Amur: Reckoning

Labyrinth of Refrain: Coven of Dusk

Legend of Mana

Legrand Legacy

Monster Hunter (WorldBorne and RiseBreak)

Monster Hunter Stories 2

Moonlighter

My Time at Portia

Ni no Kuni II: Revenant Kingdom

NieR Replicant ver.1.22474487139

NieR:Automata

NiGHTS into Dreams...

OCTOPATH TRAVELLER

Okami HD

Omensight

Ori and the Blind Forest: Definitive Edition

Ori and the Will of the Wisps

Oure

The Outer Worlds

Outward

Paleo Pines

Path of Exile

Pathfinder: Kingmaker

Pathologic Classic HD

Phantom Brave PC

Pillars of Eternity

Pyre

Rain World

Remnant: From the Ashes

RiME

Risen

Sandwalkers: The Fourteenth Caravan

Scamp: High Hat Havoc

Scrapnaut

Seasons after Fall

Sekiro: Shadows Die Twice

The Serpent Rogue

Shin Megami Tensei III Nocturne HD Remaster

The Sinking City

Slime Rancher (1+2)

Spyro Reignited Trilogy

Summoner

Sun Haven

Sunless Sea

Sunless Skies

Tales of Berseria

Tales of Symphonia

Tales of Vesperia: Definitive Edition

Tales of Zestiria

Terra Memoria

Thief

Timespinner

Toren

Transistor

Trials of Mana

Undertale

Vampyr

Varenje

Warframe

Vermintide (1+2)

The Witcher: Enhanced Edition

The Witcher 2: Assassins of Kings Enhanced Edition

The Witcher 3: Wild Hunt

Yakuza 0

Yonder: The Cloud Catcher Chronicles

Yooka-Laylee

[pearly--rose]

Ok @venisehiatt commented on this post that I should link some Quiet Isle fics, and they are absolutely right! Here’s a few I had in my bookmarks and to-be-read list, that either take place entirely on the Quiet Isle or feature it in some way. (Please feel free to reblog and add to this list!)

--

I Should Live in Salt by dreadwulf ( @dreadwulf ) - Rated M Jaime and Brienne have survived the confrontation with Lady Stoneheart, at a terrible price.

From This Day Until the End of My Days by dreadwulf ( @dreadwulf ) Jaime Lannister should have returned to King's Landing weeks and weeks ago. Instead he brought an injured Brienne to the Quiet Isle and somehow ended up married to her. Now he's riding for the Vale with a strange assortment of companions on an impossible search for Sansa Stark, and Brienne won't even look at him anymore, and why does that bother him so much? Why is he even here? He should just go home. He'll do it any day now.

A Little Less Conversation, A Little More Action Please by earthwindandfiber ( @sapphiresandsunlight ) - Rated T Everyone who's anyone knows you can't shack up at the Quiet Isle if you're not married. So, Brienne's posse of Dudely Hangers-On decides to do the next-best thing, and set up camp right outside her door for an all-night jam sesh. What could go wrong?

Honor Thy Regard by SigilBroken - Rated E Everyone’s favorite post-ADWD series, taking Jaime and Brienne from Stoneheart, to the Quiet Isle, to the Vale.

None But the Lonely Heart by OccasionalAvenger - Rated T featuring: the quiet isle, chekhov’s wolfpack, someone's bloody wedding, brienne in king's landing, a messy custody battle, dad jaime, a long night that lasts considerably more than a night, and endgame.

Yield by PrettyThief ( @pretty--thief ) - Rated T Five times Jaime and Brienne fight one another and one time they both lose.

dream deep heavy sleeper (dream light heavy heart) by djelibeybi - Rated T Five nights Jaime and Brienne break the Quiet Isle's rules, and one night they don't.

pieces of me (are pieces of you) by SeeThemFlying - Rated T Banned from seeing Brienne, Jaime spends his time on the Quiet Isle mulling over his feelings for his wench......and looking after Podrick.

Presents and Promises, or The 7 Days of Cronemas by greyathena - General Audiences In which somehow, after the events of existing book canon and taking care of the Lady Stoneheart situation, Jaime and Brienne and Podrick (Ser Hyle . . . has gone somewhere) have found themselves looking for Sansa together . . . and have ended up passing through the Quiet Isle at precisely the wrong time. Or the right one.

(and finally, yeah, I’m gonna be completely shameless and link my own fic) Hesitate by pearly_rose - Rated M He had never known her to be an adept liar. Too righteous, too…good. Right now, she wears her guilt like a shroud. It’s written all over her, in how stiffly she holds her shoulders, in the way she won’t quite look him in the eye. Still he follows her into the Riverlands without question, with the same swirling intensity in his stomach as when he galloped back to Harrenhal to save her from the bear pit.

[st-just]

@fallowhearth

Hmm, probably? Depends on what about WB's stuff you really like, but would definitely say give it a try. (It's only 22 chapters in so far anyway, so that's only like a normal sized novel investment, right? :P )

It's not really any more high concept than Twig or Pact, but it's full secondary world and the setting's a mix of intentionally very alien conceits and just obvious counterpart cultures, which I know some people find annoying - very clear that the big city at the start is Fantasy Venice, that these republics are Fantasy Chinese and this empire is Fantasy Aztecs, etc, despite the conditions they've developed in being unrecognizable to any historical analogue - well, here's the actual pitch on the site.

Vesper is a world built on the ruins of older ones: in the dark of that colossal cavern no one has ever known the edges of, empires rise and fall like flickering candles.

Civilization huddles around pits of the light that falls through the cracks in firmament, known by men as the Glare. It is the unblinking stare of the never-setting sun that destroyed the Old World, the cruel mortar that allows survival far below. Few venture beyond its cast, for in the monstrous and primordial darkness of the Gloam old gods and devils prowl as men made into darklings worship hateful powers. So it has been for millennia, from the fabled reign of the Antediluvians to these modern nights of blackpowder and sail. And now the times are changing again.

The fragile peace that emerged after the last of the Succession Wars is falling apart, the great powers squabbling over trade and colonies. Conspiracies bloom behind every throne, gods of the Old Night offer wicked pacts to those who would tear down the order things and of all Vesper only the Watch has seen the signs of the madness to come. God-killers whose duty is to enforce the peace between men and monsters, the Watch would hunt the shadows. Yet its captain-generals know the strength of their companies has waned, and to meet the coming doom measures will have to be taken.

It will begin with Scholomance, the ancient school of the order opened again for the first time in over a century, and the students who will walk its halls.

Book I: Lost Things

Tristan Abrascal is a thief, one of many making their living under the perpetual twilight of the greatest city in all of Vesper: Sacromonte. Quick wit and a contract with a capricious goddess have always kept him one step ahead, until one night he crosses a line by accident that burns all the bridges he had left. But not all is lost, for his mentor offers a way out of peril that turns out to be more than a simple escape.

It is also an opportunity to get even with the infanzones, the nobles he’s lived under all his life, and it so happens that Tristan has a full ledger’s worth of scores to settle with them.

Lady Angharad Tredegar has fled halfway across the world, leaving behind a ruin of a life: her family butchered by a ruthless enemy, their estate torched and their nobility revoked. Yet no matter how far she flees the blades of assassins follow, and she finds herself growing desperate for any protection. She has one relative left to call on, her estranged uncle in Sacromonte, but she finds that the safety he offers comes at a cost.

Angharad has sworn revenge, however, and her honour will allow for no compromise. She will do what she must to survive so that one day bloody vengeance can be visited upon her enemies.

The paths of the two take them to the doorstep of the Watch, but for desperate souls like them enrolment is a lost cause. They will have to do it the hard way instead, by surviving the trials on the isle known as the Dominion of Lost Things.

Where every year many go, and few return.

If that appeals at all, would absolutely give it a try!

[therealvinelle]

So there was a meta about vampires in Twilight turning human again and their reaction, and many of them chose to revert back, so how would everyone react if they couldn't turn back? Like vampirism is just, poof, gone. There are no more vampires in the world and no way to create them. How does the, now formerly vampire world adjust to this new reality?

(Anon is referring to this post.)

I think there would be a lot of suicides.

Alas I don’t have it in me to make a list of everybody like I did with the referred post, that took me hours, so we’ll just do an overview.

A lot of vampires would end it within the first year of living as humans, with or without intention. Some commit seppuku, yes, Caius comes to mind, but I think a lot of them would just die like NPCs as they failed to realize just how frail they had become. They’d jump from too great heights, fail to eat properly, not see doctors when they were sick or injured, or pick fights with the wrong humans. “What’re you gonna do, stab me? HAH MY SKIN IS- wait, fuck-”

To say nothing of how most of these people would have absolutely nothing, not a possession in the world beyond the clothes on their backs, and no papers. The Volturi and the Cullens are just about the only ones who’d be materially fine, and even then the Volturi would have to be smart about it because if Aro tries to flip any of his priceless possessions the humans will think they’ve uncovered the Arsène Lupin of art thiefs.

I imagine Aro and Carlisle would, independently of each other, set up funds for the recently human vampires.

Even then, though...

I think, even among those of the recently-made humans who decided to try their luck against this brave new world, the vast majority would be miserable, with many opting out as the years went by. Sure, they can take Aro or Carlisle’s money and live off of that, but what is life? Can they get work, integrate into society, form relationships with other humans, when they’ve spent god knows how many years, centuries even, as cannibalistic demons, and before that lived in a world that doesn’t exist anymore? Most of these people won’t have anything resembling an education, as it is I suspect a lot of Twilight vampires are illiterate.

Carlisle would likely end up filling a boat with the surviving vampire-humans, and ship them all to Isle Esme. There they could live isolated from society, growing crops and fishing with nets (and in reality surviving off of shipments in the night because I doubt they’d be very good at this), and having Carlisle patch everybody up when they inevitably injure themselves.

If Renesmée’s hybridness made her an exception and she retains her powers, then she’s in charge of keeping Isle Esme from turning into Lord of the Flies. If not, then it’ll just be Carlisle with a bright, slightly stiff smile begging people to get through movie night without somebody getting bludgeoned. (Somehow, this works.)

The Volturi come too. Living in Volterra was likely the plan at first, but an ancient sewer palace for clandestine vampire rulers isn’t a very livable place for humans. The plumbing and ventilation alone would make it unsustainable, and they’d go crazy living only with the same couple dozen people. Isle Esme it is.

Rosalie tries to make her own luck with Emmett, but eventually comes crawling back, ostensibly because she misses her family too much, in reality because 21st century soccer moms are a phenomenon to be observed from a cool distance, not assimilated into.

Some of these people have children who grow up to be deeply dysfunctional people.

Decades later, the outside world discovers this civilization and countless research papers are written about this bizarre cult no one can figure out where came from.

[biteofwinter-archived]

“hey,” alice stopped the taller person in his path by stepping across it. the cobbled streets were narrow and winding, it was easy to take up space and make it much more difficult to push past them. “samael, sammy, can i call you sammy? i think i’m going to call you sammy.” blue eyes dart to meet his, a scheming smile present on her lips. “i have a deal for you . . . if you’re willing to pay for it.”

a lil thingy for @bonmal​​ / samael *

[letsgofoletsgo]

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ I'd love to hear about your Descendants s/i and how they met Jay? :O

I actually answered this awhile ago, so I dug up the ask and pasted it jhsghsjg

Azalea is the daughter of the Queen of Heart’s jeweler, Hyacinth. Hyacinth was initially a florist, but once word got around about her ability to enchant jewelry, she was quickly forced into the position of royal jeweler. As skilled as she was with jewelry, her true passion was with flowers, hence why her daughter’s name is Azalea. After the banishment of villains to the isle of the lost, she set up a jewelry store as means to an end, crafting jewelry from washed up trinkets. Hyacinth taught Azalea her craft, and when she was 14, gave her an enchanted emerald necklace. It wouldn’t work on the isle, but she treasured it as her most prized possession.

Azalea is quick witted with a sharp tongue and a no-nonsense attitude, at least from her childhood on the isle. She knows how to put people in their place, and is not a stranger to resorting to violence. She taught herself how to use knives, and keeps a rather impressive collection. Because of her protective instincts, and her combative skills, Hyacinth trusted her with guarding the shop at night. It was during one of these patrols she found a certain thief, being Jay of course, attempting to nab a necklace from the display, and gave chase. She eventually cornered him, but he managed to deceive her into thinking he ran out empty handed. After looking him over, she let him go with a harsh warning. To her surprise however, she found him the next day, the necklace he stole in hand. He almost seemed as uncertain as her why he was returning it, but indeed promised to do so, under one condition; that he could see her again. Azalea was skeptical at first, but agreed, figuring she may as well get some inventory back. Over the weeks, the two began to spend time together, and they realize maybe they’re not so different. There’s this feeling of safety and understanding that develops, a feeling neither are quite used to, but eager to explore, wherever that would end up leading.

[scleroticstatue]

A war is brewing between Maritiam (Eric's Kingdom), Atlantica (the mermaids kingdom), and the Southern Isles (Hans's family) over the ruins of Atlantis. Your party is hired by a third party council (some nobility from the Enchanted Forest) to decide if either party has a legitimate claim to the derelict city. You join Milo Thatch on his expedition, first to Arendell to retrieve the mysterious Shepherd's Journal, then through the underground tunnels that are old access points to the city. You discover that there is still a thriving population there. You also get to meet Nemo, Hook in his pirate days, Sinbad, and possibly Moana's tribe.

After a series of nightmares start haunting Storybrook's children, the party is given the task to return to Neverland and settle whatever dark forces are active there. In Pan's absence, some of his inventions have gone wild and you have to stop them. Fend off lost boys, trek through jungles, turn animals back into humans, and restore the Fairy Kingdom of Pixie Hollow as you encounter characters from Peter Pan, the Jungle Book, Emperor's New Grove, Pixie Hollow, and Tarzan. Extra points if you have Hook, Pocahontas, or Indiana Jones as NPCs.

The nearby kingdom of Agrabah has just experienced a cataclysmic threat; their great orbs of peace have been stolen and now a dark undead force has risen, intent to destroy them. (I'd basically just lift and rework Thief and the Cobbler, tbh.)

Mulan is summoned by the Empire to fight in their latest set of skirmishes. As part of the Merry Men, you accompany her on her journey. Trek across the Empire, meeting cursed individuals (turning red, studio Ghibli), breaking up local wars (lift conflict from AtLA and Raya), and save the Emperor's granddaughters from an arranged marriage so they can marry their true love.

A strange crash wakes everyone in the middle of the night. It's Jim Hawkins, a boy who served with Killian under Captain Silver, who used some magic to become a flying pirate and take the star ways around various realms. Recently, he was attacked by an unknown creature from one of those star realms, which is what crashed his ship, and the creature is now running rampant in Storybrook. The party can be from Storybrook and/or part of Hawkins' crew. Incorporate Stardust, Treasure Planet, Lilo and Stitch, and Wall-E (enchanted metal, like Pinocchio maybe?), as well as more classical stories like A Princess of Mars and H. G. Wells. Your decision of who the creature is up to you, an alien experiment like Stitch, a fallen star like Yvaine, a sandworm like in Dune, maybe even an Eldritch god from the pages of Lovecraft.

I’m making a D&D campaign within the world of ouat, any ideas?

[scotianostra]

January 31st 1761 saw the birth of Lachlan MacQuarie, on Ulva, off the island of Mull.

He joined the Army in 1776 (aged 14) and served in Nova Scotia as well as New York and Jamaica. As a lieutenant he served in India from 1787 to 1801 and later in Egypt where he was involved in defeating the army of Napoleon.

In 1810 Macquarrie became Governor of New South Wales at a time when it was still being used as a penal colony. The previous Governor had been Captain Bligh of the “Bounty”.

Macquarrie followed a policy of encouraging the former convicts to settle in Australia - despite opposition from the “free settlers” who wanted to retain privileges only for themselves. Australia would be a different place if he had not succeeded. He transformed Australia into a thriving country and Sydney from a shanty town to a Georgian city and is regarded as the “Father of Australia”. Macquarie’s policy concerning the Aboriginals was an expression of the same humanitarian conscience. He organized the Native Institution (a school for Aboriginal children), a village at Elizabeth Bay for the Sydney tribe, an Aboriginal farm at George’s Head and a sort of annual durbar for them at Parramatta. Orders of merit and even an old general’s uniform were bestowed on deserving chiefs. The results of this naïve policy were not very encouraging and in 1816, when the natives showed signs of ungrateful hostility, he organised a military drive to chasten them. But no other governor since Phillip had shown them so much sympathy.

So he wasn’t perfect, but who is, a bit of a rogue as well by all accounts, was adverse a wee bit of embezzlement, but managed to wriggle out of it, “laws” he laid down were of the strict Presbyterian upbringing on the Islands on the Inner Hebrides, nude sunbathing was banned as was “shooting a neighbour’s dog on a Sunday”

As a Scot his ability to have a good drink were evident, of his army life in India he “took to the field” with “eight dozen bottles of brandy and Madeira” and “a quantity of gin”. One of his diary entries, penned after a big night out, shakily read, “No beer for three months’!

For the Australians reading this Lachlan also set aside land in Sidney for "recreation and amusement of the inhabitants of the town” He named it Hyde Park, it was here Australia’s first sanctioned horse racing took place. At one of the fairs at the park he organised, “ladies raced in sacks for a cheese” where men would bet on the results and have a laugh! At another two men competed in a mile footrace before slugging it out for 56 rounds in Australia’s first bare knuckle prize fight. Now the remark about the sack race might make you think he was a misogynist, maybe he was, but he was ahead of his time and a revolutionary for the fairer sex, giving plum jobs to women, with reformed banknote thief Elizabeth Killett appointed to run the Sydney Market.

But his liberal attitude to the convicts finally was his downfall, Macquarie’s critics sparked a British government inquiry into his rule and the governor resigned, setting sail for Britain in 1822 with a shipload of kangaroos for his friends and patrons

“as a Scotsman he was drawn to an animal with an inbuilt sporran”.

Other men may lay claim to be “The Father of Australia” but are any as colourful as oor Lachlan?

Macquarie died in London in 1824 while fighting charges made against him as Governor. He was buried in a Mausoleum on the Isle of Mull, as seen in pic 2, in a mausoleum near Salen with his wife, daughter and son. The grave is maintained by the National Trust of Australia and is inscribed “The Father of Australia”.

I’ve scavenged a few articles for this piece, you can find out loads about him online one of the sources can be found at the link at the bottom. The BBC made a drama-documentary in 2011 called The Father of Australia,

Of course there is a lot more to the story, as ever with all these Colonial type of posts,  Lachlan MacQuarie was up to his neck in the smelly stuff, you can read more about that here 

https://www.abc.net.au/news/2017-09-27/fact-check-did-lachlan-macquarie-commit-mass-murder-and-genocide/8981092?nw=0&r=HtmlFragment

[impala1967dwinchester]

Sam Winchester: Hair dye

*Credit to gif creator* 

Pairing: Sam x Reader 

Pov: Sams

Warnings: Cuteness, couple things, swearing, soft kisses, Mention of Dean 

Summary: You ask Sam to help color your hair. You and Sam make a mess while watching old classic movies. 

Word Count: 2.4k 

A/N- I’ve been writing a lot of angst, so I thought a good fluff ridden one-shot would be nice to write. 

Your Favorite Color- Y/F/C 

Masterlist

Taglist: 

Telling everyone that I was going on a supply run, Y/n ears perked up. She ran over and whispered in my ear. “Can I come with you?” She asked. Smiling “Yes you can come along.” I said wrapping my arm around her waist.  

“So, do you need anything Dean?” I asked “Nah, man I’m fine.” He said before throwing me the impala keys. “You scratch her and you both die.” He said and went back to his phone.  

“Thanks Dean.” I said before walking with Y/n by my side to the impala. “I’m glad you came along, Y/n. I like having time with you like this where Dean isn’t teasing either one of us.” I said opening the passenger door for Y/n. “Thank you kind sir.’ I walked around and got into the driver's seat ‘I wanted to spend time with you. I feel like sometimes it gets taken because of hunting.” She spoke.

I started the impala, and was immediately met with the loud music that Dean listens to. I turned the radio off and backed out of the garage. Y/n and I drove for a few before I exited the highway, and went to a store that we had never been to ‘Target’.  

Y/n sat next to me, all excited. Which wasn’t unusual just was good to see her so excited. “What’s got you so excited?” I asked as I pulled into a spot rather far from the doors of the store. “I’m just excited that’s all.” She said leaning over to place a haste kiss, before going to open her door.  

Y/n had this effect on me that no matter what was going on; she could stare at me, or just gentle kiss me were the time around us would seem to stop. A moment of clarity every time, like butterflies in my stomach.  

When I heard the door, slam closed I quickly turned the engine off and jumped out of the car. There was Y/n her ass pressed against the back of the trunk, her arms crossed, along with her ankles. “What’s wrong Sammy?” She spoke.  

I just smiled and grabbed her wrist. “Let’s go, before you scratch Dean’s precious car.” I spoke. Y/n’s made its way inter locking it with mine. She gentle sway her arm back and forth setting a slight motion between us with both our arms.  

In moments like these I felt like we weren’t hunters, we weren’t credit card thief’s, we didn’t go to hell and come back. In moments like these I just felt normal. The automatic doors opening as Y/n and I got closer.  

I grabbed a cart not really thinking. Y/n started walking around. Catching back up with Y/n she was walking around the isle with all the office supplies. Again, another moment of clarity like we were just a normal couple, with a normal life.  

I passed the sticky notes, throwing a few packs in, Y/n had picked up a few other things. Again, we walked through, perusing around the different isle, sometimes Y/n would pick things up and show them to me.  

We’d have a short laugh, and then she’d put it back. Y/n said we needed some more blankets, even if the bunker was climate controlled ‘it’s always nice to have so many blankets’ she had said once, and then she throw three or four blankets into the cart. “I don’t mind, baby.” I said as I pushed the cart following Y/n.  

We skipped the clothing for some reason, not that I was really bothered by it. When we finally made it through the blankets, pillows, and furniture of ‘Target’ We had made it to the food, and medicines. All of sudden the list that I had in my mind appeared reminding me of why we were here. “Honey, I’m going to get the stuff for the bunker okay.” I said kissing her on her cheek.  

Thinking for a quick second I kept the cart with me. “Be careful, and I’ll find you.” She said before walking away. I walked around looking for all the medical things that I needed for the hunts, grabbing a bit of food as well.  

I saw Y/n waddle over with a few boxes in her hands. “So, I might have found a very time-consuming project for you to help with me with!” She said doing a little dance, before coming over to and showing me that she had picked up a few hair dyes boxes.  

“You wanna do this?” I asked raising an eyebrow. All Y/n did was vigorously shake her head. “OKay, okay, okay. Don’t hurt yourself!” I said laughing a little before I took them from her hands and dropping them into the cart.  

“Yay, I’m so excited. Ya know, this isn’t the first time I’ll be dying my hair.” Y/n said as she inter looped her arm with mine. “Really, do tell.” I said as we walked.  

“Well right before I met you two Winchester boys, I had redyed my hair a deep purple, there was a time when my hair was blue, another time when I was a teenager, I had a undercut and then shaved it which was pretty cool.” Y/n said as we pulled up to a register. I pulled everything out and paid for it all, with a look coming from the young man at the register.  

Y/n and I walked out again Y/n inter looping her arm with mine. I hadn’t realized how far I had parked until Y/n said something. “Why’d you have to park so far away” whining a little bit at the end of her sentence.  

“Because have you met my brother, no scratch can come to this car.” I said wiggling my eyebrows. She giggled and helped put the bags into the trunk. I opened her door for her, and then put the cart away before getting into the driver's seat.  

The drive was short back to the bunker, which was nice. I could see Y/n was excited to get her hair dyed. Again, when we made it to the bunker, I was careful to not nick Dean’s car as I backed in.  

Y/n didn’t wait for the car engine to shut off before she had four bags on each arm. “Okay I’m ready!” She said walking towards the adjoining door. Looking at her and then the trunk I noticed she had left me the heaviest nags but also there was only two bags left. I grabbed them quickly and slammed the trunk shut, so I could open the door for her.  

“Deanie Beanie, we are back!” Y/n said as she walked into the library. Setting the bags onto the table. “Y/n... Never again call me that.” Dean said rolling his eye, “So... you don’t want your prizes that I got for you?” Y/n said. Dean looked over at me for a second. “Well... maybe.” He spoke.  

I handed him the pie after I set the bags on the table, Y/n shuffled through the bags pulling out a soft, king sized blanket. She gently slid it across the table “I thought you’d like it, but if not. I can always take it back Dean.” Y/n said.  

It was silent for a moment and then Dean got up and walked over to Y/n hugged her tightly. “Thank you, Y/n. And thanks Sam for remembering the pie this time.” releasing Y/n from the hug. Taking his pie and new blanket with him before leaving the library to go to his bedroom.  

“Good night you too!” He screamed half-way down the hallway. “Well, that went much better than predicted!” Y/n said. “I didn’t know that you bought a pie for him either.” She said before taking the rest of the stuff out of the Target bags.  

“Well, years ago instead I got him cake, and he lost his shit. Then years before that I basically forgot to get him his pie.” I said shrugging my shoulders taking the food into the kitchen.  

“Sammy!” Y/n said whining. “Yes dear.” I said as I walked back into the library. “When can we start to do my hair?” She said spinning around. Laughing a little “We can do it after we put everything away, sound good?” I asked.  

A loud enough huff came from Y/n, “I guess... I don’t really have a say.” She said rushing past me and starting to put things away, to try and speed up the process. “Honey, why don’t you go grab a t-shirt you don’t mind getting icky, and come back to the library.” I said walking over to her and kissing her with passion. “Hmm, okay Sammy.”  

I finished up putting everything away and made my way back into the library, in the corner Y/n and Dean had fashioned a mini living room, a little TV and a small love seat, along with Dean’s recliner.  

I flipped through the channels looking for a movie to play, but all I found was classical movies something like ‘Gone with the wind’ and ‘Psycho’. It honestly was just there for background noise. I turned when her heard Y/n cough a little.  

She had on one of my very old university shirts it hung past her thighs. She smiled slightly, and grabbed the boxes off the table. She throws it over to me catching it before it slammed into my face. “I’m going to get snacks, read the direction.” She yelled from the kitchen.  

Y/n was shorter than I was, which ended up being very cute especially when she wears my shirts, it didn’t matter if they were flannels, my grey t-shirts, or my ginormous jackets, and sweatshirts. “Are you reading!” She yelled from the kitchen.  

“Um, yeah.” I said as I fumbled with the box. When Y/n reentered the library, she had a bowl of popcorn balancing in her left hand, two bottled waters tucked under that arm, and many other boxes of chocolates in her other hand.  

“How long do you think this process is going to take?” I asked. Not upset with spending to much with her, just wondering why she had some much food. “I don’t know smart boy read the box.” She winking at me and she placed the bowl of popcorn on the table.  

Y/n sat down and let me read the box, she watched whatever was playing on the TV. “Okay, so I’d say and hour. Y/F/C is what you want? I know you grab other boxes?” I asked, “Yes dear, it’s the one I want.” She said getting up quickly.  

“I have to get a old towel.” Y/n said before walking out of the library yet again. Finally, Y/n returned with a towel wrapped around her shoulders, “This is so you don’t make a mess baby.” She spoke. I rolled my eyes, and started to take the contents out of the box.  

“Here, give it to me. I’ll mix all the stuff up, and all you have to do is put in my hair, and maybe wash my hair too.” She said gracefully taking the box out of my grasp. “Here’s your gloves, so your hands don’t stain.” Y/n said handing me gloves over her shoulder.  

It was a few minutes and then she handed me a bottle and simply said. “Just pour it over my hair and massage it in, I guess.” She said looking over her shoulder. “Okay,” I said bending over kissing her nose gently.  

The process went by quickly, every few minutes I'd stop to kiss Y/n temple, avoiding the hair dye that was close to her forehead. I set a timer on my phone something like twenty-five minutes, so I pulled the gloves off and stuffed them into the box, before coming sit down with Y/n.  

Her eye becoming more and more hooded, she’d yawn and lift her arms up the shirt only rising more, all I could see was the skin on her thighs. It never stopped. “Do you want to watch something else, baby?” I asked her, ‘no’ she shook her head. “Okay, baby.” I said resting my hand on her exposed thigh.  

Just like that my timer went off, “Baby, you ready?” I asked her, Y/n looked over at me and gave me a face like ‘really was that even a question’, “Duh I’m ready!” She said jumping up from the couch and running into the kitchen.  

“Don’t forget the conditioner.” she yelled yet again from the kitchen. When I walked in, she was testing the temperature of the water, “We have to use kind of cold water.” I gave her a look of confusion wanting her to explain more.  

“Because hot water will strip the color from my hair, crazy.” She said shrugging her shoulder and giggling before grabbing my hand and dragging me to sink. “Can you give me a little bit of a head massage, please Sam?” Y/n whispered.  

Good thing that I was much taller than her, but regardless. There weren’t many times that  Y/n would ask me for a massage, only when she was desperate for the touch of my hands. That was one of the first things Y/n had told me when we first got together. ‘I love your hands Sam’ she had said while she slowly grazed her rather smaller fingers against the palm of my hand.  

Anyways, I also checked the temperature of the water, and started to wet Y/n’s hair, the color draining out, and when it cleared a bit. I heard Y/n say “You can use the conditioner now, remember massage please.” I smirked as I lightly grazed my hands through her soft locks, just gently massaging her neck and then rising up to her temple.  

I heard the slip of two or three moans come from Y/n, I momentarily stopped taking a second to notice how the shirt had risen to the half cover her ass. She wore a pair of spanx under the shirt. “Sam” “Hmm?” I responded. “Can we kind of hurry this process my back is start to hurt.” She said a whine in her voice.  

“Oh shit, yeah. Sorry.” I said spreading the rest of the conditioner through her hair and washing. turning off the faucet off, I wrapped the towel around her hair. “Thank you, baby. I bet it looks great” Y/n said.  

Reaching on her tip-toes she gave me a slow and passionate kiss. My hands finding their way to her hips. “I love you, Sammy.” She said as her need for air overpowered our kiss. “I love you too baby, I love you too.”

Completed 03/04/2021 

[lovely-necromancy]

A Cure for Insomnia CH.7

DISCLAIMER: Anything said about the Warrens in this work of fiction is not fact and more of an opinion. Not a skeptic just not a fan of their protocols and practices. I am not accusing the Warrens of anything in this work nor am I stating to know what actually happened in any of their cases. If you want to form your own opinion the podcast And That's Why We Drink has done multiple segments on their case files and given multiple reasoning for certain aspect of the cases.

If you didn't care that's fine I'm just trying not to get a defamation case.

Finding yourself lost to the humdrum of another by gone weekend and in the midst of a dull Monday morning is where most people start praying for some excitement. But when the excitement is debating the possibility of a stalker, you'd gladly take another lack luster week than deal with this bullshit.

And debating the possibility is the wrong thing to say. It's more accurate to say you've been contemplating what the proper steps to take in this situation are. Going to the police, or rather the Sheriff, is out because of how fucking useless they are when there's not a suspect present or Blue's Clue style trails for them to follow like breadcrumbs.

While David's surprising reappearance does stick out, you have no evidence to pin this to him. Then with all your knowledge on true crime and the likely hood of suspects it tends to be the first one who you've encountered in the stories. And that would point to Tim since you met him right before these shenanigans started but you were with him last night at the mini mart and even lost those fifty minutes together. So, there's no possible way Tim broke into your home and placed a book on your coffee table.

Then there's the issue of the book. You noticed it missing instantly because Toby had taken something from its shelf that you then went to put back. But it gets placed on your coffee table after you left, but not after you left the first time to take Toby home. Which was before you'd even notice the book gone. They were watching you, and knew you saw the book missing. You had to figure out how they were watching you. In case it was cameras you had changed in the dark of your closet today. And thankfully you've had practice showering in the dark before.

You really need more proof that you are being stalked and soon. The sooner you get that the sooner you can involve Big Jo. You'd thought on this all of yesterday on what you'd do and who you'd ask for help and the Cowells seem like your best bet in terms of stopping the stalker. Though that's only after you have proof. While Big Jo will help you out in a heartbeat you know it's more of a save his own skin down the line type of help and not out of the kindness of his heart, without proof he'd only humor you for a little bit. Not to mention if the stalker knows you're on to them at this point they could stop making it obvious, they'd get stricter with themselves, leave less evidence of their presence behind. Meaning it'd take longer to to get proof to catch them and even longer for you to feel comfortable.

Which is why you shoved away the idea of couch surfing until this blows over. If they were watching you at your house what would stop them from following you somewhere else. And if that happened and your friends got targeted or hurt you don't know how you'd live with yourself knowing you brought that to them. Or the other alternative of the stalker psychologically fucking with you and making you look crazy to your support system in this town before ultimately taking you down.

An even bigger reason as to why you suspect David. He'd been the first to start talking about Bambi's “wanderlust” before she disappeared. She'd laugh it off when people commented on it, but never really made mention of wanting to leave. He got it into everyone's heads that she wanted to get out of Kepler. To travel yeah, but she loved this town, she said it was home, she'd never leave without saying something.

When you came into town she'd been your first friend in years. You'll be the first to admit that you latched on to her but she quickly got you out making more friends with the residents. And even when you started hanging out with Hollis, Jake, and Kirby off planning events and deep diving for obscure movies for Saturday Night Dead she'd still talk with you everyday while she worked.

You really miss her.

Even if it wasn't David behind this, if this stalker was the person behind whatever happened to Bambi, you'd catch them. Not for peace of mind but so she'd have justice. It's what she deserves.

“uugggggggggh” you're pulling out your hair as you lay face down on the counter.

“I've never read The Book Thief but I didn't think it was supposed to be a frustrating book.” Nate says as he stops his dusting of the shelves.

You'd been “reading” the book your stalker left for you to find. Hoping you'd find a clue somewhere within it's pages to point to a suspect. But you've combed every page and not even the slightest mark had been left.

“Sorry I...I just have a lot of thoughts right now.” You say looking up through your arms that are now draped over your head.

“Want to talk?”

“Not now.”

The concern and uncertainty behind his gray eyes gives away his skepticism.

“Well, I'm here if you need.” a gentle reminder.

“I know and I appreciate it!”

Nate returns to his cleaning, sometimes it's like he was programmed to be productive. Most times actually. And you turn back to your book, having found no clues you decide to actually read through it. After all it is one of your favorites and maybe it will serve as a distraction from this whole mess. Help you calm down some.

An hour into your reading you're so engrossed in the story you hardly notice when the bell rings signaling the entry of a customer. If it wasn't for Nate calling out you'd have missed them completely.

“Hey welcome to Book & Nook.” the sound of his voice bombing through the quiet store front, startling you.

You look up at the right moment to catch sight of a furry black and brown rear going down an isle. Connor! Oh wait don't get too excited he has to be on duty to be here.

Now knowing that Brian has a need for the service dog too, you decide to wait and see who has Connor today. If it's Toby you could have a nice chat but if it's Brian you could be polite. Maybe thank him for helping with your episode the other night. Discretely of course, Nate would worry if he knew you had a panic attack. He'd probably assume it was due to the stress of the previous week and might force you to take some time to yourself. And that's the last thing you'd need if you were being stalked.

You really need to come up with an action plan. Keeping in mind that the stalker may not leave clues or escalate for a while it's probably best if you start getting active around town. Planting your roots deep and saying “hey I'm not going anywhere willingly”, but like subtly, y'know. Maybe start making habits about obsessively getting receipts even for packs of gum so if the last person who sees you is a cashier maybe they'd remember the strange interaction and might be able to help police find your body quicker.

God why does this all have to be so frustrating? And why you? Who stalks the mentally ill person who does nothing put listen to horror podcast and watch paranormal and true crime shows? Do they want to be harmed? Do they want to get caught. Oh for fuck's sake, that's another rabbit hole of possibilities.

You could've ignored the chime of the bell, but you most certainly couldn't ignore the boisterous voice that rang through the store. A welcomed distraction from your current mental struggle.

“What's up bros and non binary hoes?” Jake walks through the store like he owns the place, carrying a picnic basket over to the counter. As much of a Chad move it is Jake's a really nice guy he just has too much natural swagger in everything he does. It's probably the snow boarding showman in him.

“Jakey!” A very much welcomed distraction. Jake can always cheer you up with his “rad” antics and laissez faire attitude.

“What are you doing here?” while some of the stunt crew occasionally comes in for a book or to chat with you during your shift. Jake's never been one of them. You want to make the joke that the guy never learned to read but you've seen him actually read the manual that came with the new heater they got installed at the lodge. More of a practical reader than a for funsies reader.

“Sup YN, came to show you the picnic set ups that got in.” he places the basket on the counter and his hands give a jazzy effect for emphasis. What a dork.

“You missed the reveal at Saturday Night Dead, so I thought I'd stop by and let you see the final product before we finalize everything next week. After all 'Pride Picnic' was your idea, makes since that you should get the final say.”

With all the excitement of the past week you'd forgotten that it was already June. And you all had been planning a picnic for pride instead of a parade this year. So, and to quote yourself here, “Even the quiet queers can celebrate.” You guys had been planning this practically since you met. Seeing as you'd pretty much solidified a spot in Kepler's LGBTQIA+ community and planning committee. Really it was just the usual suspects for Saturday Night Dead; The Hornets, Hollis, Jake, and Kirby. But The Hornets, Hollis, and Jake were the extroverted types so when you mentioned a picnic to include the introverts or even the closeted of the community Kirby jumped at the idea before they could argue. Which they hadn't, everyone had been psyched for a change of event and for something that was more of a big block party than a traffic jam for the small town.

“Well?” you ask with anticipation nearly killing you.

Jake can't help his excited huffed laughter, kind of sounds like the 'boof' of a dog. And in one grand motion he opens the wicker basket revealing the lovely Pride set. It was a typical eight person set including stackable cups, forks, spoons, knives, flatware, and even bowls. One of item of each was assigned a color, going through the rainbow from pink all the way down to violet. It'd been a bit of a battle for Hollis to get the manufacturer to include pink and violet for some reason but they'd managed to persuade them enough. Probably pulled the influencer card and the company's marketing team caved instantly. But it got done, so yay to sell outs. One thing that'd been unanimously agreed on was having the modern flag incorporated. Which when you pulled out the thick durable blanket, was a vision that you couldn't have ever dreamed up. It wasn't a flimsy cover that was so thin that you could see through, but it wasn't the rough texture that most thicker blankets tend to have. And it was ginormous. But then again the basket was supposed to fit eight people per. Meaning the blankets would have to be eight person as well.

“Dude it's perfect.” you really didn't need to say anything, Jake could see your excitement from the stimming sway you were currently doing. But you took no notice of your stim as you stared in aww at the basket before you.

“Are non committee members allowed to see?” Why even ask when you're already craning your neck for a peak.

You and Jake share a look before rolling your eyes and waving Nate on over to inspect the Pride Picnic box.

“Woah you guys did great on this.” Nate says as he undoes the wrap around the cups to give one a tap. When it gives the tap tap that only ceramics make he nods in approval at the quality.

“Hollis was the lesion with the manufacturer so it was in our favor from the start.” Jake responds, not only were these baskets ordered at a heavily discounted rate due to bulk buying but add on the influencer discount and yea it pays to be an extreme sports streamer. So the man was allowed to be proud of his partner.

“Blankets don't leave a lot of room for food though.” you note with a pout.

“Yea we noticed that Saturday too,” you may have been pouting but Jake looks like a whole kicked puppy. “But we have an idea for that...at least for the picnic.” wow human labradors bounce back fast.

“Everyone brainstormed and we thought doing like a potluck style picnic for sides and deserts, then Barclay said he'd take care of main dishes.” That did sound like a good idea but with the turn out you were expecting you weren't sure. Especially with the time frame being two weeks. It's such short notice.

“Jakey, we're talking like block party amount of people, maybe like half the town max here...won't that be too much for him?” He'd already donated so much for you to even be able to order all these baskets since this wasn't a city sanctioned event. Sure everyone in the committee chipped in for a basket each or in some cases splitting one, but the majority of funds came from Barclay even if he said it'd be a donation from the lodge to add catering to his plate it was all too much.

“He'll be fine, he offered. And you haven't seen the lodge in the winter. Barc's used to it.” despite his confidence in the mountain of a cook, you think you'd stop by the lodge this week and offer a hand.

Nate and Jake get side tracked on discussing the details of the picnic while you struggle to fold the huge blanket. Having to step outside of the counter to get better leverage. When two large hands come from either side of the blanket and stretch it more. Jumping back from the blanket like it burned you. Amused hazel eyes meet yours as the blanket lowers until you can make out Brian's grinning face, your pretty sure that's the most genuine look he's had.

“Sorry, looked like you needed some help.” he's still grinning and while it isn't mean spirited, the lack of any sheepishness let's you know he's not really sorry. He'd been trying to at least give you a little scare, the fuck boy.

“Hey...ya thanks.” you say making to grab the bottom of the blanket and lift it up.

The two of you fold the blanket back up in no time with a weird synchronization for two people who never said a word. You just followed his lead and in no time the blanket was placed on the counter by Brian. Nate and Jake lost in conversation on the other side of the store, from what you can hear Nate's telling Jake about the faucet in the backroom that won't stop leaking and Jake offered to help.

“Mind if I have a look?” cocking his head towards the basket.

“Oh go ahead.” You don't see any harm in letting him have a look, if he was a homophobic dick who'd trash the box it wouldn't make sense that he gave you a ride. Or help you fold a pride flag picnic blanket up.

Thinking back on it he knew a proper gender neutral substitute. Even if he wasn't an ally in the sense of actively participating with the queer community he was in the sense of his awareness and knowledge. You've already extended an offer to Tim maybe Brian would appreciate one too.

“We'll be having a Pride Picnic this year in place of a Parade. Anyone for it is welcome to come.”

“Yea I think I heard talk of a potluck, right?”

“mmhmm” just as you go to nod your tic kicks in and your neck snaps left then right, “Barclay, he runs the Amnesty Lodge, he'll be cooking the main dishes. From what I hear we'll have most dietary restrictions covered.” Brian's brow furrows a bit as he tilts his head to look at you, before he straightens it back.

“That's right you haven't been here long.” he says it stoically and more to himself.

A comment like that should send your mind racing with thoughts of you stalker, but Toby could've just as easily mentioned it. Brian seems lost in thought after this and you take the time to look elsewhere, and see Connor who's sitting at Brian's side staring up at him.

Mindlessly you start to push your thumb into your palm with the other fingers on that hand rhythmically. Brian has Connor, and Toby said it was for seizures. Is it rude to ask how he's doing right now? You two have only spoken once, sure he helped get you to work and home but you'd argue that Toby did most of the work in both those cases. Not to mention you'd had breakfast with Toby and got to actually have a conversation and learn about him. You'd maybe said seven sentences to Brian since meeting him. It would definitely be weird to ask if he was ok.

“You ok there su- YN?” you note he did correct himself from calling you 'sugar'.

Shaking yourself out of your thoughts you look up confused at him.

“Uh...yea why?”

“Your hand.”

Looking to see what he's talking about you see you've just been pressing your thumb into your palm fingers dancing along in a rhythm you've long since forgotten the origin of. Cracking you thumb a few times and flexing your fingers you look back to Brian.

“Sorry just thinking, that happens sometimes.” you interrupt the silence before it has a chance to settle, “So...yea...everyone's welcome to the Picnic. Dogs too on or off duty. It's next Sunday just show up to Amnesty Lodge at like ten thirty in the morning and then everyone's hiking on over to the Archway. It's a great clearing and big enough to hold everyone.”

“I'll talk ta the boys 'n see what they think.”

“Ok cool cool, and when I said next Sunday I did mean next Sunday,”

“And not this one, gotcha.” You give him a smile which he returns.

Maybe this fuck boy look a like wasn't so bad...or he was just used to Toby's masked expressions. Still too soon to tell, he might still turn out to be a fuck boy in personality too.

“Do I check out here or...” you've only just noticed the four books on the counter.

“Oh yeah sure thing.”

Once you're behind the counter you have a clear view of the books that Brian's brought over Ghost an American History of Haunted Locations, Bell Dame, Deer from Hunt to Table, and lastly the first book in the Magnus Chase series. Odd collection but you yourself would read three out of four of them so you really can't say much.

“Oh have you read Percy Jackson or the Kane Chronicles?” making small talk isn't your strong suit but if you can find a fellow Riordan fan you'll make the attempt.

“What? Oh, oh nah, these are for Toby. He's working right now but wanted me to pick some new books up for him.” you make a note to try to talk to Toby about the series in the future. If he is a Riordan fan you can't wait for him to get to the Trials of Apollo series. “But 'e's read Percy Jackson, so is this next?”

This man has no idea the can of worms he just unleashed upon himself.

“No. Now has he read just the Percy Jackson series, or has he also read The Heroes of Olympus books?” He stares blankly at you.

“He's read whatever Percy Jackson was in the title of.”

“Ok, c'mon.” swiping Magnus Chase from the counter you make your way to the fiction YA section. Placing the book on the empty spot it came from you glance the shelves before finding The Lost Hero.

“This would be next, there are five in this series,” you pass the book off to Brian so you can point back to the shelf, “Then he'll have the Kane Chronicles, Magnus Chase, and Trials of Apollo series to look forward to. Book counts in each are three, three, and five.”

“So....Heroes of Olympus,” you nod at his pause, “five books in the series, Kane Chronicles three, Magnus Chase three, and Trials of Apollo five. Got it.”

“If you need help grabbing the next title just get me I've got it memorized from how obsessed with the Riordaverse I am.”

“Big reader?” he asks with a smirk.

“Not at all, just a found a good writer. Toby would probably like Neil Gaiman's work too. Maybe Diana Wynne Jones.”

“I've tried to get 'im to read American Gods but he just won't have it.” well this is awkward.

“I was thinking more Good Omens and Coraline.” Yea so this is a silence. Best make haste. To the counter!

Checking Brian out for the proper next book in the series, plus those other three, you forego the attempt at small talk. However, this is Kepler and you live in the radio quiet zone...the dial up internet doesn't make this a fast check out on your electronic register.

You remember two of the other books had been paranormal, might be worth a shot to bring up Saturday Night Dead in an attempt to stall for the register.

“Did Tim let you guys know about Saturday Night Dead over at the Cryptonomica?”

“Yea, somethin' bout cheesy horror movies right?”

“mmhmm, normally they're the good kind of bad but this week kick starts months of horribly awful kind.” the computer has finally loaded.

“Jeez YN do you want people to come to the show or not.” Jake's laughing so he can't be angry that you're insulting the upcoming movie list.

Scanning the books through you don't look up when you state, “I just have the personal opinion that you shouldn't prey upon low income families and sell their nightmares for profit then run.” you do look up after bagging the books to say, “Allegedly. And your total's thrity-five o'seven.”

“What's the movie?” Brian inserts his card into the chip reader.

“Insidious.” you and Jake said it at the same time, but in two totally different tones.

“Not a fan huh?” smirking bastard, he is a fuck boy you decide.

“The movie's fine, the case file and the people who inspired it are not.”

Brian's removed his card and opens his mouth, probably to egg you on even more when Jake throws in his two cents.

“Yeah yeah YN. Hollis told me all about the powerpoint. How 'bout we save this rage for Saturday. It's only a couple weeks.”

“Jake....there are at least 10 Amityville movies.” That shakes his mood.

“...what?”

“There are three Annebelles, Conjuring, and Insidious movies. Don't forget The Nun, La Llorona, The Haunting in Connecticut, and by the time we finish all those, there could be another Nun movie or The Crooked Man will have come out.” it's so matter of fact and you dare any of them to challenge you on this. Sad thing is you aren't even sure if those make up all the case file movies. But you do know it's a majority of them.

“For someone who hates these people, you sure know their movies.” Nate calls from his stool as he resumes dusting. God damn him and his uncle ways.

“Nah I get it, lay all the facts out so it's easier to see the lies and deceptions.” Brian supplies the other two men. Reaching out for his receipt he smiles down at you...a bit more genuine you note. Like the one you saw earlier. You are on a roll with this guy.

Like a Vespa it hits you. The reason Brian seems so familiar and so frustrating. The reason he gets under your skin with just a look. You should have caught on sooner but you'd paid so much attention, or not enough attention, to everything around you both. Looking at his face you hand him the receipt. It isn't real. He isn't really him. He'd been lying. No not lying, acting.

Just as he crosses the threshold you call out, “Your mask is really fucking irritating!”

Through the windows you see him pause as your words catch up with him, and you watch as he turns to make eye contact with you. He smiles again, and it's a nasty thing. A twisted smile mixed with...not ill intent but definitely not a friendly grin. His hazel eyes have a lively gleam in them. And you understand what that smile means.

The game is so on. Fuck boy.