#i guess you can say hangin out with the boys is for hero but i think that's more for the brothers instead of just one of them

[inferno-silentdragon]

Another omori pixel doodle while I procrastinate

[drink-tang-gang]

do you have headcanons bout Daffy and Bugs in a relationship?

boy do I?!?!?!

k, so ima just copy some of the ones i shared on insta (most of these hc I’ve already displayed in some form in my fics?? so I feel I'm just repeating myself lolol) and try and come up with more

Daffy is an extrovert. Bugs is a very social introvert (Think about it, a lot of classic shorts start with bugs comfortable at home. He’s very much a homebody) Of course, he wouldn’t let anyone know. He still loves to meet new people and mingle, do interviews and socialize with celebrities. He can talk and joke all night, and never once show that his social meter is completely drained–he IS an actor after all. But somehow, Daffy knows when Bugs is running on empty and needs to rest. He will drag him out of parties and sit his ass down so he can catch a breath.

They buy each other’s merch :’) Their favorite stuff is usually non-licensed stuff. Their sillier the knockoffs are, the better.

I love playing around with canon, so: Bugs’ was a copycat of Daffy’s personality because as a nobody-extra at the time, Daffy was his hero. Daffy found out and helped Bugs to stand out as his own tune–he quickly noticed Bugs’ unique snark and encouraged him to experiment with implementing that in physical comedy. The rest is history.

Bugs has a preference for carrot flavored foods, but isn’t particularly picky with his food otherwise. To say that Daffy is picky with his food is an understatement. His “refine pallet” demands only the finest. So, Bugs always has (organic, non gmo, grass fed, cage free, range free rent free you name it) Daffy’s favorite things stocked up in his pantry for when Daffy invites himself over to dinner. Which is every day.

Bugs thinks he’s the shit and can overcome anything (which I mean, it isn’t wrong to come to that conclusion). He gets bored easily. So what’s the next best challenge for him? Cheating death time and time again, of course. I guess on a subconscious level, whoever comes closest to beathing him or at least can match his level of insanity is worth his time. Plus, someone tryna kill him gives him the perfect opportunity to flex his wit at the expense of his adversaries. All this to say, Bugs sees Daffy tryna crush him under mallets or anvils as just, hangin out. Maybe flirting. Or maybe cause they’re cartoons and don’t express affection like humans do gjhjdg.

For bein the mascot and one of the most recognizable toons on the planet, Bugs sure lives humbly. and tbh, I think it’s cause 1) he’s a guy with few needs and 2) he just lets himself spend all sorts of money for Daffy. Accountants at WB are like “wtf why does he live so poorly” and its bc Bugs pays for all their vacations, Daffy’s aforementioned diet, etc. and the thing is, he’s totally unaware how gone is is for Daff to just. Buy him a car without a second thought. Porky tried to bring it up once, tho, to no avail. Poor porky.

Daffy and Bugs love to watch all sorts of old films together. Sometimes, they even watch their old shorts and tease each other on how badly they used to act. Buster Keaton nights are their favorites.

Bugs and Daffy loooveee gossiping about other toons+celebrities. They have dirt on practically everyone in the industry.

[geminidentitycrisis]

The Scent of Leather and Hairspray

Present Mic/Hizashi Yamada x F!reader ONESHOT

(WARNINGS! - swearing)

---------

Sooooooo, I have a new favorite Pro, I guess haha

I hope you enjoy, and if you're underage, pretend you're older because I get it, I'd be Hot For Teacher too, but he's not a pedo sorry......

----------

You sighed as, upon exiting the store where you just purchased a frozen drink, the men you passed to enter that store started catcalling you. Just what you needed at the end of a rough day...

"Hey Honey, you'd be cuter if you smiled...!"

"Don't listen to that shit, babygirl, you're sexy as hell, c'mere and hang out a while...?"

Ignoring them the best you could, you kept walking, but they didn't take that very well. "You think you're too good for us, that it, stuck up bitch? Where you think you're goin'?"

You could hear their footsteps approaching behind you and turned to face them after sipping from your drink.

"Guys, please, I've had a hell of a day today and my quirk would probably scar you both for life and what do you say we just don't do this, huh?"

They exchanged glances before fixing you with threatening glares. "You think you're tough, babygirl? We'll see how tough you are when we get through teaching you some respect..." the first one said.

"HEY!"

A voice called from behind you and suddenly an arm was draped gently around your neck. You froze, being caught off guard tended to prompt a panic response when you were so tired.

You smelled leather and an overwhelming scent of hairspray.

"What's the trouble, my homies? Pretty sure ya heard the lady, she ain't jammin' to the vibe ya layin' down, ya dig? Beat it."

Heart skipping a beat or two, your eyes grew wide and a blush flooded your cheeks. "That voice...?!"

You whipped your head up to see the one and only Present Mic.

"Ah! I knew it! I knew I recognized your voice, I catch your radio show every day! You're the Sound Hero, Present Mic!" he flashed a grin down at you, winking.

"Oooh, you've got good ears, Listener! Thanks for Hypin' me up like that! Always great ta meet a FAAAN!" he responded in his commentator voice.

One of your would be tormentors interrupted angrily. "Hey, peacock head, why don't you mind your business?"

"PEACOCK...?! You boys best get ta steppin', aight?! Don't make me beat you up in fronta this pretty girl!" he replied in annoyance after his attention was so aggressively stolen from you.

The blush came back in full force and you couldn't contain a dreamy sigh as your lashes fluttered, eyes lidding contentedly now that you felt safe again.

*he said I was pretty~!* you thought.

"You believe this banana hair lookin' motherfucker? You're about to get your ass whooped, fruity!" the other threatened.

"Hey bro, watch your language! There's a lady here!" with the arm around your shoulders, Mic carefully raised it and guided you behind himself as the two started walking towards you both.

"Enough..."

Another voice came suddenly from the other side of the parking lot and everyone, with the exception of the blonde who was guarding you, turned to see Eraserhead.

Suddenly these jerks weren't so confident.

"Get lost, both of you, and go straight home or I'll bring the two of you in right now for loitering and harassment." he said calmly but with deep authority.

Mic crossed his arms, glaring at the duo as they ran off after a mere moment of hesitation, his cheeks puffed out slightly. "What a couple creepozoids! You okay, Pussy Cat...?" he quickly spun around to check you out, striking a dramatic pose while pointing at you, the trademark grin already back in place.

You smiled up at him with admiration sparkling in your eyes, clasping the cup you held in both hands and tight to your chest, stepping closer to him.

"Yes, thanks to you! You're my Hero~!"

Mic felt his own chest swell with pride a bit, the grin on his face getting bigger as he relaxed his stance and shoved his hands in his jacket pockets.

Usually by now the damsel has already flung herself on Aizawa, but not only were you praising him, you recognized him from just his voice and he was impressed at that.

"I can't believe I was just rescued by my favorite Pro, I am your #1 fan! Please, are you patrolling the city tonight? Please let me buy you a coffee or tea or something?? Just as a thank you...?"

Hizashi laughed rather loudly, one hand emerging from his pocket to be placed over his chest.

"HAHA! Aaaww, how can I say NO when you ask so sweetly?! Coffee sounds like a rockin' idea right about now!"

"Ugh, we don't have time for this, Mic..." Eraserhead complained tiredly.

Eyes rolling in exasperation, the blonde groaned twice as loud. "ugGHHH!! Don't be such a buzzkill, yo! I'll get you one, too, just chill!" with that, he trailed after you back into the store.

You watched as he doctored up the coffee you poured for him, blushing again when he threw a hint of a smirk your way, using the tip of his finger to lift the gold tinted shades he wore and showing you his emerald green eyes. "Don't worry, I'll pay for my boring friend..."

Smiling, you bounced on your heels. "Damn right you will, I'm not HIS fangirl, after all..."

This promoted a slight blush to his face, but he maintained that knockout grin. "Ha! Well, good thing his best friend is here at least, lucky for him I tagged along tonight, huh??"

"Lucky for both of us..." came your soft reply from over your shoulder as you turned to walk away, your hips swaying temptingly had definitely not escaped his notice.

He followed you to the checkout counter and placed some money beside yours, his ungloved fingertips brushing against your own when he does. Leaning down closer to you, he cocked his head, pushing his shades down his nose this time and raising a brow.

"Does my #1 fan have a name...?"

Your smile bloomed again, blushing up at him. "It's  _______...but I might prefer you calling me Pussy Cat...~"

Saying that last bit, you applied a sensual undertone which he picked up on instantly, making his blush spread over his face and grow darker as he chuckled in amusement.

When you guys walked out the door, you noticed Eraserhead seemed really annoyed but tried to ignore him, looking up at the Voice Hero hopefully.

"Listen, I know you're both busy, but if you have just one more second to spare, I can't tell you how much it would mean to me if I could get your autograph..."

Looking away awkwardly, he made a pained expression. "Aw, man, I dunno, we are kinda in a hurry here and stuff..."

You felt your heart sinking when he startled you with another loud laugh. "Hahaha, gotcha! JK! Of course I will, I ain't gonna leave ya hangin' like that, no way, that ain't my STYYYYYYYYLLLE!"

Giddy with excitement, you let out a tiny squeal, quickly fishing out a small notebook and pen from your purse as he set the cups down. When you handed it to him, his fingers brushed yours again, making you bite tenderly at your bottom lip.

They were so warm and soft...

He had started to whistle a cheerful little tune as he spun the pen between his fingers before starting to write in your book, it took longer than you expected, clearly longer than Eraser expected, too.

"Say goodbye to the girl, Mic, it's time to keep moving!" he didn't yell, exactly, too lazy, but he had raised his voice since last.

"YEAH, YEAH, I HEARD YA!!! Gimme a sec, ALRIGHT?!" the volume of the blonde's reply actually made your eardrums flinch and quiver this time, but you smiled anyway as he defended you again.

"There ya go! And hey, just to spite my buddy over there, I wouldn't mind walkin' ya home ta make sure ya get there safe."

The blush came right back, clutching the book to your heart, you gave a weak smile. "No, no, it's okay, really...I took up too much of your time already, and I only live around the corner from here..."

Eyes closing momentarily while you gathered yourself, you took a deep breath before confessing. "...I cannot express how grateful I am for you...not just for saving me tonight, but also for your talk show, hearing your voice over the radio gives me strength and motivation every week...it means the world to me...thank you..."

Beckoning him by flexing a finger, you stood on your tiptoes and pressed a sweet kiss against his cheek when he leaned in curiously.

Eyes widening, his whole face became scarlet red and his grin stretched from ear to ear. "AW, YEAH!"

He jumped, pumping his fists in the air and then proceeded to shoot you with his finger guns while  winking again. "Listen, I dropped my digits on that piece'a paper ya got there, Shawty...hit me up sometime if ya wanna chill! I'm down for whatever!"

You were caught off guard by that and checked the page he signed for you, finally reading what he wrote down as he rambled on as background noise about how he wasn't a creep like those other guys and you could say no without worrying about him making a scene, he just had to shoot his shot, I mean you DID kiss ME first ya know...

"For my #1 fan, _______...Thanks for the coffee and stay outta trouble! ...and maybe call or shoot a txt, if your feelin' this funky vibe, too? Live loud, Pussy Cat ;) don't ever let anyone try an put the mute on ya! XOXOX PRESENT MIC!!!"

Followed by his phone number, and there were little hearts drawn around the page.

You were already blushing when he surprised you again by returning your gesture and swooping in to plant a kiss on your cheek this time.

Reaching up to touch the spot, you smiled up at him shyly. "I can't wait...please be safe out there..."

"You got it! SEE YA SOON!" The Pro nodded vigorously, giving an enthusiastic wave of goodbye before grabbing his and Eraserhead's drinks, practically bouncing with every step.

It made you giggle, but you were trying not to get your hopes up too much. For all you knew, he gave his number out to every girl that asked him for a signature.

"Are you happy now...?" Shouta grumbled, taking the cup being offered as he turned to resume patrolling. "ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! HECK YEAH I AM! I'M ON CLOUD NINE RIGHT NOW, I JUST MET MY FUTURE WIFE!!!!!!!!"

You heard him very clearly, the blush traveling all the way down your neck this time, and you couldn't help another small giggle, your heart fluttering with happiness like the wings of the butterflies in your belly.

He just had that effect on you.

Glancing down at the notebook in your hand as you sipped your quickly melting frosty, you noticed in the bottom right corner was a little arrow, below which was written the word "flip".

You looked up again but the two Pro Heroes were already gone.

Curiously, you flipped over the page.

MARRY ME?!?!!

a. YES!!!!!

b. a

c. b

That smooth sonuvabitch had you blushing and giggling all night.

[offspring-of-calliope]

Peculiar (Newsies Fanfiction) - Chapter 2

Description: Jack just wanted to have a normal conversation but Race, Albert and Finch are impossible.

words: 2041

Warning: slight period-typical homophobia (it's not explicitly stated but it's implied)

A/N: I still got no real plan for this, like there is no actual plot in my head yet but little snippets of action/moments. So, we'll see how this'll work out. Anyway, I decided to include more sidecouples, so you'll be seeing established Blush and also Redfinch but I'm not sure how slow the burn will be. Thanks for the likes on the last chapter.

I hope you enjoy and maybe leave a comment when you do,

Lélodie

-----

The back rooms of the theatre were filled with loud noises when Jack entered them. Some of the younger Newsies, who weren't too exhausted from selling papers all day, were running around, trying to chase each other. In one corner, Jack could spot Jojo, who was trying to teach Romeo and Elmer how to sew. It took him a while to recognize Race, Finch and Albert at one of the tables, playing some kind of card game. Since he couldn't see Crutchie anywhere, he supposed that he was already up on the rooftop – their usual sleeping spot – and decided to approach the card game table.

Race was the first one to notice him. “Aye, Cowboy! What happened to yer shirt?” With a teasing grin, he offered him a free chair at the table.

“An' while we's at it, what happened to yer arms?” Finch added, a concerned look on his face, while Jack was sitting down.

Confused, Jack checked his arms. Up until this moment, he hadn't even noticed the bruises which scattered them. Right in the places where he had blocked Bulky Guy's blows. He sighed. These were going to be a pain in the ass while sleeping. “Oh, that's nothing. Some fancy snob was jealous of my shirt, so he splashed it with muddy water an' another guy was tryna soak me for tryin' ta clean the rest of my body.”

The concerned look didn't leave Finch's face and he put down his cards to inspect Jack's bruises. “Ya didn't... ya know, use your powers, did ya?”

Jack wasn't exactly sure, why, but he felt guilty all of a sudden. “Yeah, I did. But in an alleyway which was all dark 'n' scary so I think, maybe that guy's been after me for longer.”

“I bet ya hit him good, too, right? I's tryna imagine his face when he realised he can't win a fight against the great Jack Kelly,” Albert said, not nearly as worried as Finch. Race looked as if he was more interested in the fight than the circumstances as well.

Finch just shook his head at Albert and Race, took his cards again and decided to stay silent. The three of them continued their game.

“Of course I's delivered him a pretty good fight,” Jack claimed, smirking. “But I have to admit, I was gonna loose. The guy was, like, really big. And then, there was this boy that jus'... He told the guy ta let me go an' he did. No kidding, I think this boy might be a charmspeaker.”

Everyone at the table glanced at him in disbelief. Eventually, Albert said, “Jack... You can't jus' accuse any person who did somethin' of bein' like us.”

“I don' 'accuse' him, first off,” Jack started but Race interrupted him.

“Yes, ya do. You do this every time. You's jus' tryin' to be a hero again – findin' a little Peculiar who ya can talk into joinin' the Newsies and comin' to Medda's.”

“Well, I wasn't wrong the last time,” Jack replied, referring to the time he invited Sniper to join them. “An' it's not like I's doing it on purpose. I just want them to be safe, ya know?”

“An' there ain't nothin' wrong with that, Jackie-Boy. But ya can't jus' walk around an' force your opinion on these people,” Race insisted. “Besides, why d'ya think that this boy that helped you has powers? Maybe he just knew the guy or somethin'.”

Jack didn't even get the chance to respond because in this moment, Finch groaned loudly. “Oh, you gotta be kiddin' me. I's lost again. Albie, don't leave me hangin', you gotta win now.”

Puzzled, Jack glanced at the cards and then at his friends. “I guess the fate's on Race's side today?” Race's power was... an interesting one, he thought. Every time he put effort into something, the universe seemed to flip a coin. Either, the thing Race was doing would go terribly wrong or turn out to become perfect. Due to the possibility of doing everything wrong, Race often considered these powers as a burden. But when he had a good run, he was on top of the world.

“Don't even ask,” Albert said, taking a look at his own cards and groaning as well.

“An' I guess that's not a good thing for you guys because you, like bet or somethin'?”

Race grimaced but suddenly, Albert was grinning. “If Team Telebrothers wins against Race, he has to tell us who's his new sweetheart.” Finch cringed at the word 'Telebrothers'. It was a word that Elmer had invented once because both Finch's and Albert's powers started with the syllable 'tele'. Albert knew how much Finch hated this invented word so he used it as often as he could.

“Oh, shut up, Al. It's not even as if I'd have a chance, even without the powers.”

Jack flashed Race a disbelieving look. “What do's yer powers have ta do with that?”

“Everything!” Race retorted and draped himself dramatically over the back of his chair. “Don't ya remember what happened when Al an' I was still a thing? It was like my powers did everythin' ta end this whole thing – which they's did in the end. It's not gonna work as long as a part of myself's makin' somethin' serious impossible.”

Jack considered this for a moment. Then, he mused, “Well, maybe Albert jus' wasn't the right one for ya.”

“Thanks, pal, that ya think it's my fault that we ain't havin' our relationship any more,” Albert said, looking comically devastated.

“Right, I mean, it was so romantic, bein' teleported by yer fella every time ya two were gonna get ta some touchy stuff,” Race responded with an affectionate eye roll and adjusted his position on his chair.

“There was a damn ceiling fallin' down on us 'cause of yer powers! Yeah, 'cause that's been so sweet of ya, Racer.”

“Me's always as sweet as honey, darlin'.” Race winked and blew Albert a kiss.

“Ya'll ready now?” Suddenly, Finch was talking and Jack couldn't help but notice how he snapped a bit during his question. He knew it wasn't fair of him but he sometimes wondered if Finch was a bit homophobic. It wouldn't be that big of a surprise, considering the general view on same-sex-relationships, but Finch was usually such a nice guy that Jack couldn't fathom him invalidating others.

He remembered the time when relationships between two boy newsies were something scary and new to everyone. Stolen kisses in dark alleyways, two hands holding each other when nobody was watching. The first one who had openly addressed the topic had been Kid Blink. There had been something going on between him and Mush for a really long time until he, all of a sudden, had raised his voice when every newsie had been hanging around in the theatre.

“Listen everybody,” he had said. “I'mma say somethin' and I's only gonna say it once. Don't think for one moment that I's not able ta notice the stares and the whispers every time me an' Mush are getting' close. I know that some of you's only curious but for those who's judgin' us 'cause they's ashamed of knowin' some queers: Every newsie who's livin' under this roof is part of a big family. Most of us didn't get ta know a life in a normal, caring family but in our family, there's gotta be only love an' respect. Ain't nobody's makin' fun of Jack sproutin' water out of nowhere or Finch movin' things around with his mind. Ain't nobody's rattin' out the Peculiars among us. It's the same with the queers. We's different but we jus' wanna live our lives like everyone else does. So if anybody has a problem with that – there's the door. Ya can either pull the stick outta your ass or loose the greatest family there is.” Silence. Nobody had even dared to move a muscle, let alone interrupt Kid Blink. That guy could be really intimidating if he wanted to. “Thanks for yer attenton. I'mma go kiss my fella now.”

After that, many others had openly admitted being queer, for example Race and Albert. Jack himself had also said that he could imagine being with a guy. Romeo flirted with anything that moved anyway. Then, there were many, many others, even some who just wanted to try and see. But there were also some, not many but still, that left that day. Some of them, they saw never again. A shudder went down Jack's spine and he dismissed the memory. This was slowly turning into a direction too painful to think of.

“So, what's you gonna do about that 'Peculiar' of yours?” Finch asked Jack.

Jack hesitated for a moment. “I'm gonna find him tomorrow. And then, I'm gonna prove ta you that he really is special.”

“Uh, looks like our Jackie-Boy here has got the hots for his saviour,” Race teased, shoving Jack slightly against the shoulder.

Jack sighed. “Oh my, why do I even put up with ya guys?”

“Come on, Jack. Ya know ya love us,” Albert said, laughing. “But Race, you shouldn't be the one to talk, you's not better than him.”

“Maybe. But still, you's never gonna know who I's been talkin' about all mornin', noon and evenin'.” With a triumphant smile, Race played his card. “I won.”

“I hate everything,” Albert said, while Finch was banging his head against the table with a soft: “Who's even surprised?”

Jack decided that it was better to let Albert and Finch suffer in silence, so he bid them goodbye and went to search for something to eat before going up to the roof. Maybe Crutchie would support him.

[sootcloak]

Crow’s Shadow: Carrion Circle

Second part of a short serial installment I’m working on as a general exercise on plotting, editing and the like. You can find the other parts linked here - {Part One: Repair Required} - I’ll add the last link once Part Three is up. Same spoiler warnings as Part One apply. Same general content warnings apply.

~2400 words, featuring Hilda the Mongrel and Rostnthal the Reborn. Centered around a tense cross country trip, and the looming specter of a dangerous foe. Twelve help me I’d hoped I could fit more of the plot into this one the last part is gonna be so long, such a pain to edit.

A cold, mountain spring cuts through the highlands. The water runs babbling over old, long-smooth stones. Along its bank, a cart is still. A pair of chocobos sleep, curled in on one another. Bright yellow feathers pool starkly against the grey and white of the highland’s snow-covered earth.

The campfire, dim and growing colder by the minute, pops and sizzles in the moonlit dark. Every few moments, the earth rumbles with a heavy snore from deep in Rostnthal’s chest. The old Sea Wolf is leaned up against the back of one of the birds, a canvas sheet thrown over both he and the chocobo. Hilda lies beneath the cart itself, nestled up in a tight ball of quilts and jackets.

In the back of the cart, Vavara rifles through the packed supplies. She loads specially marked shells into her revolver. It’s reflective white metal glints in the moonlight. It has a mirror shine in the dead of night, it’s engravings doing little to break up the perfect polish she’s maintained. It is a slow process, painstaking with just one hand. The cartridges hum and vibrate in their chambers, the ether concentrate within nervously singing to her heightened hearing.

Six shots in each cylinder.

If he’s there, it’ll take at least fifteen of these to break his barrier. Even with aether-charged rounds, the inadequacy of her armaments hangs over her. Missing an arm means choosing between her spear and a firearm. Damaged as she is, she might not even have enough aether at her disposal to ignite the spearblade.The core nested between her lungs is pressed cold and stark against her heart, like a long-dull knife. Her soul, nestled within it’s crystal depths, aches from long-faded scars. Her whole body would be a treasure trove for him, secrets to decipher, power to steal. Weapons to wield.

Even then, measured against his life - her secrets, her safety, all things are cast into the pot.

--

She loads a spare cylinder with slow, committed strokes. It’ll take a long time to reload the weapon, even with this preparation.. She didn’t pick this hand, but she’ll play it till the cards are on the table. Folding was never an option, anyways.

Light falls on the small camp, the morning sun casting light into the narrow crevice beneath the cart. Hilda wakes up with a yawn. Her arms stretch across the dirt, eyes squeezed shut. She growls softly deep in her chest, and sits up. Her forehead slams into the wood with an audible crunch.

“Seven hells-” She snarls.

“Gyahah!” Rostnthal’s laughter echoes over the small glade, watching with a gleaming eye as she clutches her forehead.

“‘Ey, Ashenheart! I won! Ye’ owe me a drink when we get back!” His grin is audible, a chuckle reverberating in his voice.

“I never agreed to playing your game.” Vavara says. “Besides, I owe you more than a drink if we all return safely.”

“Heh. Humorless. What with ye’ hangin with the Scions lately, thought you may’ve lightened up some. Guess even they can’t get ye’ out’a that shell.” His voice is no less mirthful, seemingly unfazed by her chilled tone.

“A’ight, come get yer food. Breakfast’s done.” He slaps the side of the kettle, ringing loud and full. Still groaning and clutching a bloodied face, Hilda drops into a cross-legged sit besides Rostnthal.

They goad and poke at one another, the words fading into white noise as Vara sits atop the cart.Her eyes’ light dims, old, ash-soaked memories rising from the shadows of memory. A wave of nauseating nostalgia hits her in the gut.

“You not eating?” Hilda prods Vara with an empty bowl. The old, smoke-scented memories submerge into the dark again. 

“Not right now. I had hardtack before you two were up.” She pushes herself up to her feet, her arm stretching, slight shoulders squaring for a moment under the winter overcoat.

“I’ll get the birds ready while you two eat. We need to move soon.” Her footsteps crunch in the snow as she walks away. A hanging tension in the air slowly seeps into the air as she walks away.

“Y’know,” Rostnthal calls out, voice low and rumbling. “Ye’ still haven’t told us where we’re goin’. Or anything else of substance, really.”

“Yes,” She says as she hoists the barding onto one of the birds. She glances over her shoulder, eyes dimly glowing with an unnatural, cold light in the shadow of the brim of her cap. “I am aware.” The words are biting, dismissive.

“D’ye intend for us to go into whatever trouble is brewing blind?” His tone is calm and grim, his one, good eye locked on hers.

“I do.” She returns his gaze, ironclad.

“An’ if that means things get bloodier than they ‘ad to?”

“It won’t. I can’t protect you on the battlefield. Not in my condition.” She turns away, leading the chocobos to the cart’s front. She clips their barding in, the ‘coos’ and ‘kwehs’ of the birds giving her occasional pause to double check her work.

“So you won’t be there.” She says without turning. “I’ll be leaving you and the birds out of danger. When my student finds you, you’ll take him to Dragonhead.” 

“Wait, what?” Hilda pauses halfway between bites, eyes narrowing. “I came out here to help, not to be a damned taxi. You’re not traipsing off on your own, ‘specially not after all your talk about this fucker who’s hunting you.”

“You want to help?” Vara’s grip on the wood tightens, words turning venomous. “Then I’ve told you how. You want to die? Then go on, follow me after we part ways.”

“Oh, that’s rich.” Hilda’s tone sours, “What’s your deal? We went over this on our first day out, and now half a week in you’re changing your tune? We know it’s dangerous, we get it.”

She sets her half-finished meal aside, standing up. Her hands come to rest on her hips, Rostnthal’s eye moving to rest on her.

“We signed on for this. We knew it’d get bloody, we knew it’d be a close thing. Y’think we’ve not learned to read you? That we were blind to what we were getting into?” She says, defiantly staring down at Vavara.

“So you’re going to ride in and save the day? Vanquish the bad man with your shiny gun and sporty marksmanship? You think you have what it takes to stand against  a man who’s decided he’d rather be a demon?” Vavara takes a deep, steadying breath. There’s something about the question which makes Rostnthal’s hairs stiffen. The skin on the back of his arms and back prickles. He’s still watching Hilda, a blooming anxiousness slowly taking up more space in his chest. He pushes the feeling down.

“Wouldn’t have stepped up if I didn’t think I could help” Hilda says, “An’ I may not be some vaunted champion of the realm like those you’ve been keepin’ the company of, but I-”

“You sound like a child. Too busy playing hero to see the danger you’re in.” Vavara’s chiding words cut through her momentum.

“What do you believe you are wagering? Your life? That in failure, you would die?” Her laugh is a single, wrenching cough. “This isn’t a battle of life and death. I’d sooner shoot myself in the head than allow any of those ‘vaunted champions’ to face him. Even the Warrior of Light, no especially the Warrior of Light.

“He does not kill. He captures. And those he captures become another one of the Empire’s experimental weapons. You would not die, you would become a monster to be sicked on your allies, your friends, and your loved ones.

“So I will face him alone. And you two will ensure an innocent boy does not become a monster because my past came to call. And if after hearing that, you still want to be the hero? Fine. You can be like all the others before you and die like one, too.” Her voice nearly chokes at the end. Shoulders tense, she pushes out a hoarse, whistling breath.

“I’ll do what I do best. Survive. And whatever I have to do to make sure he gets through this too? I’ll pay that price. Worry about yourself.”

“Vavara.” Rostnthal says, leaning in. “What’s so important about this kid that yer so concerned about ‘im getting captured.”

“Nothing. He’s just-” She begins, only for him to hold up one hand to silence her.

“Ye’ never go this far ‘just because’. I’ve seen ye’ in the ‘eat of battle. Cuttin losses ‘as never been somethin’ yer averse to. Even with lives. So if this kid is a hazard to himself more than anyone else, I reckon ye’d try and save him, sure. But to be willin’ to train and tutor a complete greenhorn, let alone throw yerself into the fire for ‘im?? Doesn’t add up.”

He waits. His eye locked on her back, her greying, braided hair shifting with a breeze. Hilda glances between the two, silence bubbling and steaming with tension.

“He is Blessed.” She speaks with a hushed admission, her voice accompanied by an undercurrent of choked, hissing metal.

“And from my observations, he has an aptitude for its power rarely seen. But he is young, foolhardy. I took him in because he otherwise would have found the Scions. And I refuse to see them make another martyr.” She glances back to the other two, over her good shoulder.

“His power will invite controversy and challenge, especially if he cannot wield it. And should Llain capture him, the prospect of an anti-eikon weapon imbued with the power of the Echo is a looming threat I cannot risk. If he can wield the Echo, if he learns how to use it to reinforce his sense of self and being, then he would retain his sanity through any kind of augmentation. Any kind of torment.” Her hand reaches up and rests flat against her chest, claw-tipped fingers scraping against the cloth and leather of her coat. 

“His soul could reside in even steel and crystal, and be unharmed by the process. But if he is captured before he learns to understand and wield the Echo, he could well become a weapon of terrifying power. An incarnation of death made manifest in steel and ceruleum.”

“I refuse to be the mother of death.” She says, softly, almost-inaudibly.

Rostnthal opens his mouth to speak, but the glare he receives from her in return stifles him for a moment.

“None of that changes what you must do. I trust you enough to determine your own path, if you will not heed my warnings. I will tell you what you need to know, even if it is not all you want to know.”

“No, it does change what we need to do. Whether you think so or not.” Hilda says, her confidence returning.

“That kid. What’s his name?” She asks, eyes fixed on Vavara’s.

“Tahve’ir.”

“Well, he’s going to need a teacher still, by your tone. So getting him out isn’t enough. I’ve got to make sure you both get out.”

“And if you can’t?” Vavara says as the two share a long, grim stare.

“Then I get him out, and come back for you. You said he doesn’t kill, and I doubt he can make it back to Garlemald in a single night. So, we get Tahve’ir out, and if you get caught in the meantime, I’ll run back and get you out in the night.”

“Nah.” Rostnthal’s voice rumbles softly, quietly. “Ye’ ain’t got experience with that kinda work. I’ve ran with the yellow jackets and the like, bustin’ slave rings and smashin’ smugglin’ ops. If she gets caught and we have to pull out, I’ll go. An’ you’ll take the kid.” He looks towards Hilda, a confident spark in his eye.

“Alright. Best not mess it up, y’old drunkard.” Hilda says, she cocks a nervous grin and playfully jabs his arm. He just chuckles grimly.

“So you won’t heed my warnings.” Vavara’s voice is distant, a kind of shrill, haunting whistle riding under the injured voice. “It always happens like this.”

“Chin up.” He says, crossing the distance between himself and her in a few steps. He drops to one knee, and rests one hand on her shoulder. He grips her softly, confidently.

“I’m not ignorin’ what ye’ said. We can’t win in a direct fight? Then we’ll just have to run ‘im ‘round the bush. Keep ‘im guessin’. Keep ‘im dazed. We’ll work on strategies on the way there.” He takes a deep breath, and then stands. He climbs into the driver’s seat.

“Have faith.” He says, patting the birds with a solid, steady palm. “‘Ave faith, an’ all will be well. Besides. Yer not meant t’look so glum. Doesn’t suit yer’ image. Times like these, a snarl’s better.”

She just takes a deep breath, steadies herself, and nods.

She jumps up into the back of the cart as Hilda finishes dumping the last bits of the kettle, and scooping her bowl back up into one hand. The dinnerware sack lands in the back with a cataclysmic, chaotic crash.

As soon as her boots are fixed upon the wood, Rostnthal whips the reins and the birds kick up dust as they run.

--

The sun sinks back low in the sky again. Pale-red light streaks across the untamed mountains between Ishgard and Ala Mhigo.

A small shack with a sprawling, chaotic garden sits on a low, narrow plateau. Heavy, metal boots scratch into the wet, snow-melt fed earth. A man with sandy skin, a straight back and strong shoulders stands at the edge of the homestead. His hair is neatly, painstakingly pulled into a long, salt and pepper braid. It rests on his armored pauldrons, and hangs down to his waist. His eyes, a gilded, ember orange, take in the small, humble abode.

In one hand, he holds a thick, angular blade. It’s gunmetal edge reflects no light, despite the bright morning. Coarse and rough, like a painted, sharp thorn of ink clutched tight.

In the other, he holds a stark, shining revolver. It’s pearly white metal casts myriad colors onto the ground around him, and up onto his own blackened platemail. 

In the light of dusk, his aura shines bright and ethereal around him. Dancing, half-there reflections in intangible glass.

He takes a deep breath, and cracks a cheery grin His shadow stretches over the gardens in the evening light. He can smell the faintest hint of ceruleum in the air.

“Finally. Progress.” His smile is all teeth and ambition.

[eldritchsurveys]

970.

Let’s start off on a high note, who was the last person to make you smile? >> King Crimson.

How many people have you had real strong feelings for since school started this year? >> ---

you’re getting ready to go to bed and the last person that you kissed shows up, what do you say? >> I mean, that’s normal.

I say boys, you say? >> I don’t know what I’m supposed to say to that.

Are you dating the last person that you text messaged? >> I’m married to the last person I text-messaged.

Do you think that it’s cute when someone kisses your forehead? >> I don’t want anyone outworld to do it because for some reason I associate it with being patronised or something. I don’t know how to process affection correctly, remember? But Inworld it’s nice.

If someone asked you what you wanted, what would you say? >> I’d need more context than this.

What does the last text in your inbox say? >> Sparrow was telling me that she had to take her mother’s car back to her after work.

What do you think the last person that you kissed is doing right now? >> Just hangin’ out.

Do you think that someone has feelings for you? >> It’s possible.

Do you still talk to the person that you last kissed? >> Of course, it was only like an hour ago lmao.

Will you be in a relationship one month from now? >> I assume so.

Was your last text message from a girl or boy? >> A woman.

Are you easy to get along with? >> I suppose that depends on who you are. I assume that I’m not easy to get along with because so few people have made a real effort to do so outside of casual interaction, which must mean that... it’s not worth it??? I don’t know how else I’m supposed to interpret that.

Is there a song that, every time you hear it, you think of someone? >> Probably.

Does it bother you when you text someone and they take forever to respond? >> Only if the text is time-sensitive. Like one time I texted Sparrow to ask her to remind me which flavour of chips was the one she liked while I was in the grocery store and she took fifteen minutes to respond and I couldn’t really do anything that whole time except... stand around in the store, lol. It wasn’t her fault or anything, and I got over it because it wasn’t a big deal, but it did bother me because I felt stupid just standing around.

Have you ever had a pet goldfish? >> No.

Where was your default picture taken? >> ---

Can you play guitar hero? >> Absolutely. Not as well as I used to, because I don’t play it constantly anymore, but I can still play pretty decently.

Has anyone ever told you that you have pretty eyes? >> Yes.

Do you think that age matters in a relationship? >> I’m so sick of this question I could spit.

Are you short? >> Relatively, I guess. Not to the point where it’s a source of angst.

Who was the first person that you texted in 2013? >> Ha, okay.

Can you honestly say that you’re happy right now? >> I’m neutral right now.

Is there anything stressing you out currently? >> No.

What’s something that you cannot wait for? >> The Dinnerly box to get here because I want to listen to music on my headphones but I can’t listen to music and listen for the doorbell. Arrrghghghh.

What was your favorite grade? >> ---

Do you miss someone? >> No.

Would you ever get a tattoo? >> Of course.

Do you like to sit in the sun and tan when it’s hot out? >> I like to sit in indirect sunlight (direct is too bright and intense for me to weather for more than a few minutes). I don’t do any tanning, seeing as I’m already dark-skinned.

Do you worry too much? >> No.

How many people with the name Taylor do you know? >> Zero.

Are you currently looking forward to tomorrow? >> Not particularly, nothing special is happening tomorrow.

Favorite color? >> Gold.

Favorite number? >> 9 / 19.

did anything bad happen to you in september? >> It is September, and nothing bad has happened to me so far.

When you’re at the beach, do you swim or lay out? >> I just lounge around under an umbrella. I might go splash in the surf a couple of times, but other than that there’s really not much for me to do at the beach except just chill.

How’s your day been? >> It’s still early, so it’s mostly been... uneventful.

What were you doing at eight this morning? >> I think I was reading an article.

This time last year, what was your relationship status? >> Engaged. Everything was the same Inworld.

How old will you be in three years? >> 36.

What were you doing at four am? >> Sleeping.

What holiday is closest to your birthday? >> Memorial Day. Sometimes they coincide.

Are you afraid of shots? >> Not at all.

How many letters are in your middle name? >> Six.

Do you wear the hood on your hoodies? >> Usually. I like the hooded feeling. Unless it's hot out, but if it is, I'm not going to be wearing a hoodie anyway.

Ever liked someone who treated you like crap? >> Unfortunately.

What color shirt do you have on right now? >> Black.

How’s your hair looking? >> Buzzed.

What are you thinking about right now? >> Finishing this survey.

When was the last time that someone of the opposite sex gave you a hug? >> I don’t remember.

Has anyone ever called you a bitch? >> Sure.

What was the last non-alcoholic beverage that you had? >> Water.

Have you consumed alcohol in the last thirty-six hours? >> Yes.

Did anything brighten up your day? >> Not particularly.

Would you rather write in pen or pencil? >> Pen.

Do you have an older sister? >> ---

Are you going to go to college? >> No.

Could you date someone who can’t make you laugh? >> ---

Are you wearing your favorite color right now? >> Black is a colour I like. But I’m not wearing any gold, except my jewelry.

Has anyone upset you today? >> No.

Where did you stay three nights ago? >> At home.

Describe how you feel right now in one word? >> Neutral.

Do you find it hard to trust others? >> Yes.

What are you listening to? >> I put music on after all, because I hadn’t realised the garbage truck was still going around and it’s so loud when it’s emptying the dumpsters. So I decided to just... try to watch out for the Dinnerly delivery from the window. :V The song is Disturbed’s cover of If I Ever Lose My Faith in You.

Would you say that you’re emotionally strong? >> I’m working on it.

are you ready for kids right now? >> No.

Who will you never forget? >> ---

Were you an adorable baby? >> I mean, I don’t know, probably.

Are you attracted to someone right now? >> Inworlders as usual.

Are you happy with who you’re becoming? >> I feel a lot of ways about my current process of becoming. Hopeful is probably a more accurate positive feeling than happy.

Do you want children? >> No.

Has anyone of the opposite sex ever written you a song? >> No.

Was last night enjoyable for you? >> It was enjoyable to be in my bed with freshly laundered sheets after a harrowing day in my head, sure.

Do you change your phone background a lot? >> I rarely change it.

How’s your heart lately? >> Beating along.

Do you want to tell someone how you feel? >> ---

Has anyone told you that they don’t ever want to lose you? >> Of course. It’s one of those things people say, innit?

What’s the last thing that made you smile? >> I don’t remember.

Would you rather take a relationship really slow or really fast? >> Uh. I'd rather they commence at the pace that feels most comfortable. Some relationships -- the short kind, which can still be fun if you both agree that it's a fling and not meant to last, are usually fast by design. People discount flings, but I will always think they're valid relationships.

If someone was interested in you right now, would you like for them to tell you? >> I mean, I don’t care. They can tell me if they like, but if they expect anything special to happen after that then they should probably learn something about me before making declarations like that.

How many hours of sleep did you get last night? >> Eight or so.

Who did you last yell at, and why? >> I don’t remember. It’s been at least a year, I’m sure.

Is your best friend pissing you off at this exact moment? >> ---

Where was the last place that you fell asleep other then your bed? >> A bed in the Wayland house, I’m assuming.

Would you rather love one person or have many short relationships? >> ---

Do you remember who you liked three months ago? >> ---

Have you ever liked someone that you didn’t expect to like? >> ---

when applying eyeliner, which eye do you do first? >> Left, I think.

Do you remember the first time that you kissed the last person that you kissed? >> No, lmao.

Is there anyone in the room with you? >> Nope.

do you own a pair of skinny jeans? >> Unfortunately.

Where will you be in five hours? >> In the living room playing FFXIV, most likely.

Would you rather get a new puppy or a new car? >> ---

How many exs have you talked to today? >> Zero????

When you hold hands, do you interlock fingers? >> ---

Do you have both a loud side and a quiet side? >> No, I’m just pretty quiet all around. Even my “loud” is still comparatively pretty quiet.

How do you handle difficult people? >> What does “difficult” even mean, really? 

[mattzerella-sticks]

#ShipWars by mattzerella-sticks (ao3)

Zatanna Zatara expected date night with Kara would be uneventful. Chat about their days, enjoy some delicious treats at Sweet Justice, and soak up as much love as she could from her girlfriend like Kara does with the sun. However all these expectations explode into glitter when they run into Oliver Queen and his boyfriend, Carter. The boys chose Sweet Justice as their destination for date night, too.

Can Zatanna and Oliver work through a simple ceasefire, or will their competitive natures overtake their dates?

Zatanna hooked her arm comfortably in the crook of Kara’s elbow, leaning into her as the chill winds of early winter breezed past. She felt a shiver roll through her all while her girlfriend chuckled.

“Y’know,” Kara said, “you’d be less cold if you wore an actual jacket.”

Scoffing, Zatanna cuddled further into Kara’s warmth. “Please,” she said, “it might not be functional but it’s the height of fashion! I should know, I’m great friends with the designer.” Zatanna ran a hand down her jacket, the purple fabric shimmering under the street lamps. “Besides,” she continued, “you love it when I use you as my personal heater.”

“I like it when you’re close to me,” Kara rolled her eyes, “don’t confuse the two.”

“You’re the one who absorbs sunlight like a solar panel, not me.”

Zatanna carried on, then, filling Kara in on her day. They’ve been too busy to meet up until now for their date. Schedules packed despite the tempting laziness a Saturday offered. Kara stuck helping her cousin as his bodyguard. Not to aid him in crises, instead relegated to distracting Hal Jordan long enough for Clark to make his escape.

“Why doesn’t he just tell Hal he’s not interested?” Zatanna asked when Kara finished explaining how Hal tried convincing Kara to put in a good word for him with tickets to Homecoming.

Kara smirked. “Because he loves the attention, even though he won’t admit it. If Hal cooled it a bit with the hero worship I think Clark would take him seriously… if he can survive Star Sapphire, that is.” They laughed, imagining Carol and her violet ring chasing Clark around the city.

Zatanna’s day wasn’t as irritating as Kara’s, thankfully. Except with her dad not trapped in meetings or rehearsal meant double the stress. John Zatara used his free day to push Zatanna past her magical limits that nearly broke her wand in the process. “If I didn’t notice the clock I wouldn’t have had time to get ready for tonight,” she sighed, “I’d be with him practicing palindromes until morning!”

“Palindromes?”

“Sentences that mean the same thing forwards and backwards,” Zatanna said, “he thinks that the better I am with them the quicker I can think on my feet in case something unexpected happens in an act. Or… in our case, fighting evil. Thankfully he understands how important my social life is…” She grinned, pecking Kara’s cheek. “He says hi, by the way, and expects me home by ten.”

Kara pulled Zatanna closer. “Well, there goes my plans to take you to the Lazarus Pit for a special midnight concert.”

“I know for a fact they’re closed tonight for renovations after someone moshed too hard in their pits.” Sheepishly rubbing her neck, Kara fought against the blush climbing across her face. Zatanna pressed another kiss to Kara’s cheek, smiling against the skin there.

“Not my fault the Black Canaries are awesome ,” she said, glancing down at Zatanna with an arched brow, “Why were you even checking in the first place?”

“Because I’m not taking any chances like last time.”

It was one of their first dates. They were fighting against robots from a recently ungrounded Lena Luthor, and Kara bet she could beat more of them. Winner chose where they went out on Friday. Zatanna wanted to win and finally show Kara how fantastic a spa could be. Except Kara won by snatching the controller from Lena’s hands and pressing the self-destruct button. She was played , and forced to attend a deafening performance from a Scottish screamer. While watching Kara in her element was delightful, Zatanna’s hearing suffered and she missed a handful of cues for her and her father’s act the following day. Now she checked the club’s social pages on date nights to ensure Kara wouldn’t try dragging her to another show.

“Fine,” Kara sighed, “I guess we’ll have to stick with Sweet Justice, then. Is that okay with you?”

“Sounds perfect .” The pink and yellow neon beckoned them closer, Zatanna vibrating with excitement. “Hot cocoa and chocolate chip cookies is exactly what I was craving.” She reached out for the handle and wrapped her hand around the cold brass. Before she can pull, however, another hand covered hers.

“Why, Zatanna Zatara ... fancy running into you here, isn’t it?”

Another tremor wracked her body, the cause this time being the boy across from her in the brown leather jacket and ridiculous green ascot. A burning anger erupted in her stomach that spread to her head, flames caught on the grey matter when their eyes met.

She glared, “ Oliver . What are you doing here?”

“For the same reason as everyone else, I suppose,” he said, an imitation of a smile plastered on his face, “to enjoy some delightful treats safe from the frigid weather with my gorgeous boyfriend.” Oliver gestured to the other boy with him, Carter standing behind with a friendly gleam in his hard gaze. His hands were tucked deep in the pockets of his golden jacket and dark hair hidden under a similarly colored hat.

“What a coincidence,” Zatanna mirrored Oliver’s expression, “I had the same idea. Me and my stupendously beautiful girlfriend, Kara , thought that Sweet Justice would be a great place to be alone together .”

“I think the cold might be getting to you, dear,” Oliver huffed, “there were a lot of contradictions in that statement...”

Her smile fell in the same instant his did. They stood with their hands on the handle, neither willing to budge an inch in a sign of defeat.

Kara perked up beside Zatanna. “Hey Carter, how’s it hangin’?”

Carter shrugged, smirking. “Doin’ okay. Shoulder hurts though, think I landed on it wrong during flight training.”

“That sucks. Think you’ll be fine in case of an emergency?”

“Probably feel better in the morning, nothing serious-”

“And what’s not helping his shoulder injury,” Oliver cut in, dragging Carter closer to him, “is standing outside in the cold! He needs the warm comforts of baked goods!”

Zatanna grimaced, squinting at him. “Really? I heard of icing an injury but I don’t think they meant with frosting,” she said through clenched teeth, “Better Carter go home and rest, you two can come by any other night.”

“But it’s so perfect tonight,” Oliver insisted, squeezing her hand tighter, “as long as he doesn’t overexert himself he’ll be fine. Which is why I was going to feed him bites of his favorite cake to aid in his recovery!” He stepped closer, voice rising. Zatanna matched his bluff, making sure there was barely an inch of space between them. Then she racked her brain for a quick spell she could fire off to send Oliver crying home to his mansion.

“Woah, there,” Kara squeezed between them, prying them apart, “let’s cool it you two, I’d rather not get into a fight - which, coming from me, is saying a lot.”

Zatanna turned to face her girlfriend’s soft, pleading stare and found the burn churning within her slowly doused. She deflated for a moment only to straighten and addressed Oliver. “It’s a large space,” she said, “we can share.”

Oliver mulled it over. A tug at his wrist and a stern frown from Carter broke his resolve. “Agreed. We’ll sit at opposite ends if we have to.”

“Good.” She opened the door finally, gesturing to them. “Please, I insist you enter first. Age before beauty, as they say.”

“You’re lucky I’m going to let that slide,” he hissed, following Carter into Sweet Justice. Zatanna attempted to gloat, only for the smug expression to fall when Kara ushered her inside. They didn’t get far, though, Zatanna slamming into Oliver’s back.

“Hey,” she said, “why’d you stop?”

“There seems to be a… problem,” Oliver said, jerking a thumb behind him. Zatanna peeked behind him and understood what he meant.

Sweet Justice overflowed with customers, teens like them hanging out and enjoying the treats the store offered. She jumped from table to table, searching for an empty one. Even the bar had a person on every stool. There was a booth near the back, unfortunately Zatanna found it the only unoccupied part of the shop.

“Or actually,” Oliver continued, smirking, “a problem for you . Since Carter and I were here first - really, thank you for letting us in ahead of you - that booth rightfully belongs to… us .”

Zatanna growled, rounding on Oliver. “Oh no! Technically Kara and I were here first! My hand touched the door handle!”

Oliver tutted and crossed his arms over his chest, reminding Zatanna of every tutor she had growing up on tour with her father. It only served to stoke the fires of her anger more, resurging after the initial snuff. “That argument wouldn’t hold up in court much less here.”

“Oh yeah?” she said, “I’m willing to take this to court if you are!”

“I wouldn’t bother - my family’s lawyers could easily settle this with your family’s lawyers without ever needing a judge to get involved. Only to save your legal team the public embarrassment...”

“As if! Our lawyers were able to litigate against the Luthors when they stiffed us after a birthday party. Compared to the team we faced then, your retainer is like your facial hair - small and pathetic.”

Oliver gasped, petting his chin. “How dare you insult my goatee! It’s not pathetic, it’s stylish .”

Zatanna flipped her hair, smirking. “Please… you clearly don’t know anything about style. Otherwise you’d lose the ascot.”

He shrieked again, one hand moving from his goatee to his beloved ascot. “I will not allow you to ruin our date night,” Oliver said, stomping his foot, “Carter and I are going to order our desserts, and then we are going to sit in that booth. You and your girlfriend can do whatever you want as long as it’s not within this establishment.”

“Is that so?” she asked, tapping her foot rhythmically on the linoleum. Zatanna glanced over at the counter, an idea coming to mind. Grinning, she took a step away from Oliver. “Well… not if we get there first!”

She dashed towards the counter while ignoring the undignified huff behind her. Zatanna leapt into an open space and startled an already distracted Barry, cell phone perched between his ear and shoulder. “Two hot cocoas - extra whipped cream, extra cinnamon - and a half-dozen double chocolate chip cookies please!”

Oliver barged in after her, shoulder pressed hard against hers. “Two slices of cake - one red velvet, the other devil’s food - with generous helpings of whipped cream please, and tea with lemon! Please!”

“I ordered first Barry,” Zatanna growled, shoving at Oliver’s face, “serve me!”

“The bond of brotherhood, Barry,” he reminded the other boy, “deliver my order before hers !”

Barry’s eyes spun darting back and forth between them. As their voices grew and their behavior became more raucous, Zatanna felt a sense of shame building in the back of her mind. The whole building seemed to stare at them making fools of each other. She ignored all of this, though, and shoved her boot in Oliver’s stomach. However Zatanna couldn’t do the same for the force tugging her by her jacket cowl.

Kara held her tightly, a bored expression painted across her face. Carter did the same with Oliver, the smaller boy still kicking in his arms.

“Barry!” Oliver carried on, “if you bring us ours first I’ll tip you as handsomely as my boyfriend!”

“No!” Zatanna said, “I’m a better tipper!”

Barry’s face fell, darkening. He slammed his hands on the counter, “ Enough !” She and Oliver lost their voices - too stunned by the irritation laced within their normally cheerful friend. In the silence a tinny voice warbled. Sighing, Barry directed his attention to his phone. “No, Hal, not you. I’m a little busy can we - can we just pause for a sec? ...Okay.” Glancing between the couples he asked, “Why are you two acting like this… this time ?”

Zatanna answered. “Oliver was trying to steal our booth -”

“Your booth?” he gasped, “That booth rightfully belonged to Carter and I !”

“You’re fighting over a booth ?” Barry scoffed, pouting, “It’s a booth . Booths can fit four people… share .”

“Share?” Both Zatanna and Oliver cried, and then glared for the unexpected echo.

“It’s either that or no one gets the booth,” Barry told them, “I’m already busy enough as it is so answer quickly.” Then, to his phone, “Hal… this is the fourth time you’ve called me about Big Blue. You’re as obsessed with him as much as Carol is with you. ...No, I won’t take that back!”

Kara let go of Zatanna, frowning. “I’m not in the mood to find another spot for our date,” she told her, “so are you and Oliver gonna play nice or what?”

Zatanna huffed, crossing her arms. Unfortunately her girlfriend didn’t let up, and the guilt burned like her heat vision. Sighing, Zatanna faced an equally chewed out Oliver. “I guess we can share for tonight…”

“I agree,” he said, puffing his chest forward “a double date it shall be!”

She groaned, dragging her hand down her face. While spending an evening with an insufferable jerk like Oliver wasn’t exactly how she pictured tonight, it was better than if they were thrown from the establishment and Kara flew home in a bad mood. Zatanna could swallow her pride for an hour or two, no matter how large it may be.

“Barry,” Zatanna said, calmer now, “do you remember our orders?” He nodded, serving ice cream to a small child with their parent. “Good, we’ll be at the booth, then.”

They walked over and each couple slid into one of the vinyl booth cushions. Kara spread her legs comfortably, laying one arm against the back of the booth in invitation. Zatanna curled against her happily.

Oliver yawned, drawing her attention away from Kara. He relaxed into Carter, nuzzling against his chest. Peeking one eye open, Oliver raised a brow at Zatanna as a non-verbal raise. She squinted, tamping down the urge to meet his challenge.

While she wanted to give Kara an enjoyable night the habit of overshadowing Oliver bubbled within like a horribly shaken can of soda.

It was awful when they were competing to prove who was the most talented performer and only became worse when they entered into relationships. Now it wasn’t satisfying in confirming their talent but also showing off their significant others so everyone knew who had snagged the best catch.

Thinking back Zatanna would say this contest began in the library during a free period. She and Kara were studying for an exam they would have later on in the day, Zatanna quizzing her girlfriend on different chemicals and their attributes. After spouting off all she knew about Krypton - along with some extra tidbits - Zatanna threw her notebook in the air and kissed her cheek. “You’re going to do so well on this quiz Kara!” she whispered, “and when you get an A I can parade you around school so everyone knows how much of a genius you are!”

If they were anywhere else Zatanna might not have heard the scoff. But due to the reigning quiet in the library it stood out easily. Her smile fell and she whipped around to see who made the offensive sound.

Oliver tipped his chair as far as it could go, resting his feet on the table next to them. Carter sat to his right focused on his book.

“You have something to say, Oliver?” she asked.

“Why yes I do,” Oliver said, “I find it funny is all... that you would try and celebrate  your girlfriend for that when everyone already knows how smart my boyfriend is.” Carter glanced up from his book with a blush. “On the Honor Roll, exemplary tutor, President of the Archaeology club and the Oliver Queen fan club-”

“I’d say that last one would count as a mark against his intelligence,” Zatanna smirked, “and his taste .”

He nearly upended from his seat. Righting himself, Oliver glared at Zatanna and she matched his fury.

“My boyfriend is the best!”

“No,” Zatanna huffed, “my girlfriend is! She’s like the sun, so radiant, brings joy wherever she shines, and hot - she makes everything better!”

“Well Carter’s better than the sun! He is like - like - like the moon ! Mysterious, magnificent, and beautiful !”

“Ha! We all know the moon’s just a sad reflection of the sun! ”

Oliver gasped, slamming his hands on the table. “You take that back! Carter is the best person in the entire world!”

“No!” Zatanna argued, voice rising to Oliver’s level, “Kara’s the best person in this galaxy !”

“Carter’s had past lives better than the one Kara lives now!”

“Sorry to trash his past lives, but she only needs to do well in the one !”

A heavy book slammed, disrupting them. The librarian scowled their way, tapping her sharp nails on the cover of the dropped book. Without speaking she pointed towards the door. All four of them shuffled out of the library, Zatanna and Oliver still simmering and their feud far from over.

They went above and beyond in further installments of their competition. Once when Oliver bought Carter a book, Zatanna gifted Kara a guitar and it ended with both of them getting their credit cards revoked for a month after an incredible shopping spree. And another memorable moment was during lunch one afternoon when Zatanna posted a cute picture of her and Kara that accrued over one hundred likes. Only Oliver posted one of him and Carter that garnered more than theirs. Unacceptable . This led to her and Oliver taking different pictures with their partners in a variety of places and, ultimately, being sent to detention for sneaking into the principal’s office because at one in the afternoon the light from the window was perfect.

Every time they fell into one of their stubborn, competitive streaks both she and Oliver rode a short high and suffered in the long run.

But then Barry dropped off their orders. He placed the plates and mugs on their table all the while chatting with Hal. “If you’re only going to cry if I tell you Superman doesn’t think you’re handsome than how can you trust my answer is really genuine? No, no - don’t!” Barry sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. Frowning, he looked at the group. “If you need anything else just wave, I’ll spot you.” Walking away they heard him mutter, “I was talking to customers… Because it’s my job and I’m at work , Hal!”

Oliver reached for his fork. Instead of spearing a bite from the devil’s food cake in front of him, he took from the red velvet and guided it towards Carter’s mouth. “You sit tight Carter,” he told him, “I’ll take care of this for you.”

Between bites, while Carter’s eyes were closed, Oliver glanced over at her and winked. Zatanna crushed one of the cookies in her hand. Letting the crumbs fall, she grabbed another and held it out to Kara. “Darling, you have to try these cookies. They are fantastic! ”

Kara, cheeks stuffed already with a cookie of her own, tried pushing Zatanna’s offering away. “It’s okay,” she said, crumbs spraying, “I’ve got my own -”

“There!” Zatanna stuffed it into her mouth, grinning at Oliver, “All the hard work you’ve done today, you deserve as many cookies as you can get!” She used her hand to help her chew, then, relishing the sound of it until Kara swallowed.

Oliver nearly bent the fork with his shaking grip. Setting it down, he used his free hand to wave. Barry sped over.

“I think we’ll be needing more desserts,” he said, not breaking eye contact with Zatanna, “can you prepare a sundae?”

“Kara and I could use a couple of milkshakes as well,” Zatanna added, lips curling maliciously from cheek to cheek.

“Three dozen macarons.”

“Cake with fresh strawberries on it.”

“We’ll take the whole of the red velvet off your hands, Barry.”

“I think I saw some brownies, can we get two trays of them?”

“And some rice pudding!” Oliver slammed his fist on the table, “Because my boyfriend deserves it!”

“Kara deserves chocolate-covered cherries!”

Barry gaped at the order, head bobbing between them. “Uh,” he started, “are you sure -”

“Give it to us!” both Zatanna and Oliver yelled, startling the other boy into action. He zipped over to the counter and into the kitchen, gathering what they asked. In the meantime they helped Carter and Kara finish the treats already given to them.

“Don’t you - gnnk - think that - brrsh,” Kara choked out, “we should slow down and savor - nggh - this ?”

Zatanna paused, staring at Kara with a golden fire burning in her purple eyes. “We can savor the fact that you’re about to be treated to a buffet of delectable delicacies by your loving and appreciative girlfriend!”

Kara groaned, “But all I wanted was - gah!” She shoved another cookie in Kara’s mouth and poured the hot chocolate down there to melt it.

Barry dropped more plates off, clearing the table when Zatanna and Oliver finished stuffing the contents into their partners’ mouths. They didn’t wait for Barry’s grip to loosen on the dessert before taking it and force-feeding their respective dates. Oliver dumped a tray of macarons down Carter’s mouth and Zatanna held Kara’s face to the straw of her milkshake and wouldn’t let up until it was gone.

When Barry dropped a single donut on the table, Zatanna and Oliver went for it at the same time. Their hands brushed and instantly recoiled.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Zatanna asked, “That’s Kara’s donut!”

“I think you mean Carter’s ,” he growled, “and if you know what’s good for you you’ll let us have it.”

“Know what’s good?” she scoffed, smirking, “Talking big for a man without his bow . And his weapon .”

Oliver squinted, his teeth bared. “You’d be surprised how resourceful I can be when something as important as my boyfriend’s happiness is on the line.”

“I would say the entire dictionary backwards if it meant Kara would never have to frown again!”

“Uh… guys?”

“ What ?” They turned manically towards their intruder, Barry yelping and hiding behind a chocolate-smeared plate. Shaking, he holds out a small, black leather booklet.

Zatanna arched a brow at him, “What’s this supposed to be?”

“Your-your check …”

“Check?” Oliver asked, “But we haven’t finished ordering!”

“Finished?” Barry gasped, emerging from his ineffective shield. He shifted from fear to irritation with lightning speed, gesturing towards his barren workstation. “You two ordered everything we had left ! There’s no more food to order!”

“There… isn’t?”

Zatanna’s vision zoomed out from the tunnel it was trapped and finally noticed her girlfriend. Kara collapsed against the window, raspberry filling at the corner of her lips. One hand was curled protectively around her protruding stomach while the other hovered by her mouth in case she needed to vomit. Carter didn’t fare any better. He laid face down on the table and moaned every few seconds.

She looked to Oliver, heat steadily creeping up her neck. His face burned with shared embarrassment as they realized the consequences of their actions.

Barry’s cell phone rang, interrupting the awkward tension. He checked it and rolled his eyes. “Come find me when you decide who’s paying,” he said, hitting the answer button, “Hal… if this is about Superman again I swear on every science textbook I own…” Barry dropped the check on the table and walked away.

Neither Zatanna nor Oliver wanted to speak first. However, knowing how bad it would look if their silence stretched any farther, Zatanna decided to go first. “This might have gotten… a little out of hand.”

“For once,” Oliver said, “I agree. Maybe we don’t have to compete over who has the better relationship.”

“Yeah,” she nodded, “Because, if we think about it, I have the best girlfriend -”

“And I have the best boyfriend,” he finished for her, smiling naturally for the first time tonight. Her cheeks ached with the natural stretch of her own grin. “Excellent thinking Zatanna! And to celebrate and cement this declaration, allow me to foot the bill.”

“Oh no, no, no,” Zatanna said, laying her hand over Oliver’s, “ I’ll cover this one.”

Oliver’s expression shrunk and became something more familiar to Zatanna. “But I was the one who started this whole feeding frenzy to begin with.”

Zatanna didn’t budge. “I think this began when I dashed to the counter, if memory serves me right.”

A beat of silence drifted between them like a dusty tumbleweed. “I’m paying for this Zatanna, it’d be barely a blip on my parent’s bills.”

“My father’s bought artwork that cost ten times what this check says.”

Peace shattered as quickly as they forged it, Oliver and Zatanna played tug-o-war with the check. They argued well into the night while their dates groaned from the sidelines, too worn from eating to intervene. Zatanna would apologize to Kara later, learn her lesson tomorrow - tonight she fought Oliver with all her might to slip her credit card into the booklet.

[jinjojess]

DR Kirigiri Vol. 5 Summary Part II

Not as soon as I wanted to get this up, but at least I’m moving!

< LAST PART | NEXT PART >

Chapter 1 The Mania of Existence: Bar GOODBYE - Yaki Hajiki

If you don’t remember Yaki, he’s the gambling detective we met all the way back in Vol. 3 during the Takeda Haunted House Case (i.e., the Sagittarius case, where a gyaru detective made a big slingshot with one million yen’s worth of rubber bands...I’m still not and never will be over that). In Vol. 4 he got assigned to check out Bar GOODBYE, which is the Scorpio case, if the secondary weapon, scorpion venom, is any indication.

The chapter opens with Yaki riding in a taxi toward the bar, which his intel says is wedged between empty storefronts in a bad part of town known for gambling and prostitution rings. Because the place is such a maze, he’s bringing along a young guy he sometimes teams up with to take down gambling operations named Ooba Ryou, who knows the area. Ooba apparently has recently given up gambling and decided on the straight and narrow, partially because of settling down and having a kid, and partially because he got schooled by someone way younger than him.

“Don’t tell me...that rumor about ya gettin’ caught up with that mysterious goth loli’s true?”

“It’s not a rumor, it’s what really went down.”

“Fuckin’ shame, man. If that’d been me, I’da crushed her in 5 seconds flat. Where’s the brat now?”

“No idea. One minute she was there, and the next she was gone,” Ooba said with an exaggerated sigh of grief.

This is like that time Minase was talking about Sagishi in Vol. 2, but even more hilarious.

Ooba is surprised to hear that this isn’t a gambling sting, and asks what they’re going to GOODBYE for. Yaki tells him that he’s on a homicide case, and in response to Ooba’s uncertainty about that says he’s out of his element as well.

At that point they hear from the passenger seat of the taxi that they’re almost there. This is the other guy Yaki’s brought along, a rep from the real estate company that owns the building GOODBYE is in, named Arai Gunzou. His name is written the stupidest way possible, just so you know. I’ll get back to that in a second, actually. 

Apparently Yaki isn’t against some good old breaking and entering or other petty legal infractions during the course of his usual investigations, but in this case he felt it was better to keep everything above board.

Remembering the tip from Kirigiri, Yaki then asks his two cohorts their birthdays, to the surprised confusion of both of them. Ooba was born on September 29th, making him a teal blood Libra, and Arai has the same birthday as my mother on November 1st, which puts him firmly in Scorpio territory.

Well. Case closed, I guess.

Or it would be, if Kirigiri hadn’t been frustratingly vague about WHY everyone should ask about birthdays to everyone who wasn’t Trusted Confidant Samidare. This sounds like a complaint, but I actually like that it shows a real flaw in Kirigiri, and how she’s putting people in danger because of her trust issues and maybe even a desire to nab all the culprits herself.

Also, here I’m going to note that Arai’s name is written with the kanji for “wash” and “group of three”, so he’s pretty suspicious and I’m watching him.

Anyway, our dudes arrive at the shopping district where the bar is, and Arai almost immediately receives a call on his cell phone. He steps away to take it. Annoyed, Yaki puts an unlit cigarette in his mouth and muses that he hasn’t smoked in a year, since that day when it started making him feel like throwing up.

Then he overhears Arai ask the person on the other line if they said something about Bar GOODBYE and commandeers the phone call.

On the other end is a creepy, almost ghost-like voice asking for help, saying he’s tied up at the hands and feet and can’t move, and is trapped. Yaki tries to check the number, but it’s unlisted. The man on the other end claims he picked up the phone in front of him and tried to call 110 (the emergency line in Japan) but it connected him to this phone instead. He begs Yaki to call the police, and when asked, says that the matches in front of him say “Bar GOODBYE”.

It’s at this moment that Yaki realizes that the Committee of Something Something’s game has begun. He hollers at Ooba to get him to the bar, orders the man to stay on the line, and barks at Arai to come along as well. They dash through the dark, creepy streets of the maze-like shopping district, with its weird plants growing on the walls. Yaki uses his own cell to call the police, which he doesn’t really want to do, but a man’s life hangs in the balance.

They arrive at the bar and Yaki hassles Arai to get the door open while he fumbles with the keys on the ring to find the right one (I want you to remember this for later). In the meantime, Yaki asks the guy if he’s hurt, and the man says no, other than being tied up he’s fine. Yaki thinks about how Kirigiri told them all to stay safe, but if they could solve a case and prevent a murder, that’d be fine. He loves the idea of being the MVP of Team Not Phoenix.

When Arai finally gets the door open, Yaki dashes inside to find it pitch black except for a weak standing lamp on the bar. He calls out but gets no answer, then approaches an old man slumped over the bar under the lamp. He’s tied not only to the stool he’s sitting on, but also to the other side of the bar. 

He’s also got a knife in his back.

Yaki calls for the others to call an ambulance, and tries to check the man out. Luckily, though he isn’t conscious, he’s still alive. 

While Ooba and Arai handle that phone call, Yaki starts to investigate the bar. In front of the stabbed man is a box of matches, an open flip phone, and a perfectly normal ballpoint pen with the cap on. Carefully picking up the phone with a tissue to keep his fingerprints from getting on it, Yaki confirms that the phone is still connected to a call on Arai’s phone before hanging both up.

He asks if they can turn on the lights, but Arai explains that the building hasn’t had power in ages, so instead Yaki has to take the standing lamp and use it as a flashlight. Ooba has a mini breakdown, saying that he can’t go to jail, he’s got a kid! Yaki tells him to knock it off with the hysterics and guard the door with Arai. He thinks the culprit is using the darkness to hide, so when he flushes him out, he doesn’t want the guy making a dash for the door.

Ooba remembers as Yaki is searching that there’s a backdoor that opens into an alleyway, but when Yaki checks the door is locked from the inside. He scoffs at this being a locked room murder and continues searching the bar.

Good thing someone didn’t buy the culprit time to pull off their trick, eh?

Yaki does a pass of the entire place but finds nobody. No one’s under the bar. No one is hiding in the storage closets or shelves. There’s not even anybody inside the huge, dilapidated jukebox. 

He once again considers the backdoor, and how he can’t think of a way to lock it from the inside while outside (for instance, pulling a string wouldn’t work). Yaki’s a simple man, though, so he decides that if the culprit isn’t in the bar, he must be outside it. He suspects he’s being led on, but remembering Kirigiri telling him not to try to hunt down the culprit really hurts his pride as a detective.

“Ooba! Wait here until I get back!”

“Where are you going, Aniki?”

“To take back my losses!”

As soon as he said it, Yaki realized--these were forbidden words for gamblers, famous last words no one should ever utter.

However, Yaki’s an unstoppable force now, so he propels himself into the alleyway anyway. The way to the left is blocked off and the ancient wooden boxes there aren’t big enough to hide a person, so instead he takes off to the right. 

He’s feeling the excitement now. The tingle in his fingertips. The sensation of running mapless through a thick jungle hiding terrifying creatures. This is what Yaki lives for, why he became a detective, why he’s the hero of the hoodlams.

At least until he turns a corner and runs into someone, causing him to reflexively stop. Yaki’s instincts have saved his ass many a time, so he tends to heed them.

Who’s waiting for Yaki?

Why, an ethereal sprite-like boy dressed in his best... Or is it a girl?

Either way there’s a distinct smell in the air that Yaki thinks might be perfume, and he--or she--is smiling calmly at Yaki.

“Who the hell’re you?”

“Wrong.”

“Huh?”

“No one came this way.”

The boy’s melodious voice reminded Yaki of a pipe organ.

“So yer sayin’ yer the culprit, huh?” Yaki said, rolling up his sleeves.

“I already told you. You’re wrong.”

“Quit fuckin’ around. If it ain’t you, why’s a kid like you hangin’ around a place like this? And it sounds like ya know who I am too... Who the hell are you?”

“I came to warn you. I don’t believe the others would want there to be any more casualties.”

“Wha?”

“Please do not continue down this road.”

“I don’t need yer fuckin’ charity.”

Yaki reached forward to grab the boy by the shirt, but he nimbly evaded and, with a rueful smile of abnegation, disappeared down the alley.

“H-Hey! Wait!”

The only thing left behind in the dark was the strange scent.

“Shit, can’t leave having gotten bested by a kid, can I?”

Yaki ran toward where the boy had disappeared.

< LAST PART | NEXT PART >

[falloutdialogue]

Diamond City Security Dialogue

One Liners

Yeah. It's true. I got shot in the ass last year. Long story.

You been to Goodneighbor? Friggin' hole. Ghouls and chem heads all over.

A beer and my slippers after this shift. That's all I ask.

Hey, you that trader, up from Quincy? You sell any ointment? I got me this itch...

I hear you been asking questions around town. What, Diamond City's got two private dicks now?

Wanna do something fun? Run the bases. Trust me.

Ahem. Well hello beautiful.

Now what can I do for you, sweetheart?

Broke up with my girl. She kept the cap off the toothpaste. Know who does that? A synth.

Word of advice - never call your mother a synth unless she really is one. Yikes.

Crouching

Get off your knees. You look like a jackass.

What the HELL are you doing?

Whoa, whoa, no public squatting. Go find a bathroom. Jeez.

Intro Scene/Fighting Supermutants

Super Mutants!

Here's some Diamond City firepower you green uglies!

[Player helped fight] Damn. Not afraid of mutants, huh? You're our kind of guy/gal.

[Player helped fight, but didn’t get any kills] Mutants sure are hard to kill, huh? Thanks for the assist.

[Strong is a companion] Hey, uh, appreciate the help and all, but maybe keep your big, green friend out of the city, yeah?

[Strong is a companion] Hey, uh, welcome to our town and all, but maybe leave your big, green friend outside the gate, yeah?

[Player stood by] Not eager to get into a fight with mutants, huh? *sigh* I guess I can't blame ya.

[If there were many casualties] Dammit. Lost a lot of good guys today... When are the mutants gonna stop, huh?

Protecting Diamond City from Misc Enemies

This is our city, you fucking machine!

Suck it, you Protectron wannabe!

Die, you Institute asshole!

Time to beat down another crazy...

Batter up, asshole!

Code Red! CODE RED!

Welcome to Diamond City, motherfucker...

Game over, asshole.

That's what I call a strike out...

Posted Outside the Wall

Can't believe I'm posted outside the Wall. Who the heck did I piss off?

Feral Ghouls like to hide in the dark. Makes night patrol a real fright-fest.

Caught Picking Pockets/Stealing

Damn pickpockets!

I saw that!

Theft! Look alive, boys!

Hey. Klepto. Nice try.

Pretty sure that's not yours, pal/lady...

Great. A thief.

Whoa. Slow down there, sticky fingers.

Seriously, pal? Stealing?

Player is Taking Items of No Value

What? You picking up the trash?

You know that's junk right?

Got an amateur janitor over here...

Ain't everyday someone picks up the garbage for free...

Picking up garbage. You an old-time scavenger?

Hey, you wanna pick up trash, I ain't stoppin' ya...

Conversation with Sheng

Sheng, what have I told you about keeping the lake clean? Don't make me shut down this little stand of yours.

Sheng: Every drop of water comes out of that filter 100% pure. Why's a legitimate business man like myself always gotta be hassled by city regulation, huh? 

It's a health hazard, Sheng.

Sheng: It's a PROFIT hazard, is what I say. I manage the water. And I'll do it without your interference, thank you very much.

Eating Outside the Dugout Inn

Can't believe you eat that food. Only one thing worth buying in the Dugout Inn, and that's the booze.

Resident: Man's gotta eat, what can I say?

A real Diamond City boy eats at the noodle stand.

Factions/Main Quest

[If institute takes over commonwealth] These synths just showed up. They're not doing anything wrong... so... we're not sure what to do.

We're getting a lot of graffiti these days. Pictures of lanterns. Know anything about that?

Ask you somethin'. Crazy question. You didn't see a... flying ship recently. Did you?

You see that big blimp? What's the Brotherhood of Steel? Why are they here?

I was on duty when I seen that airship fall out of the sky. I wonder if anyone survived.

[Liberty Prime] Holy nuts! A giant fricken robot just walked by here like it was nuthin'. Now I seen everything.

You keep looking at me like that, I'm gonna start thinking you're a synth...

The Institute. Pfft. I ain't scared of them. No... really. I swear...

You read that article? In Public Occurrences? Damn synths could be anywhere.

Don't worry. You're safe from the synths here in Diamond City. I hope...

So it's true, then? You're leading the Minutemen? Good for you. Great cause.

I'm too friggin' slow to join the Minutemen.

How come whenever something interesting happens around here, you're right in the center of it?

[Excited, then slightly embarrassed] The legend him/herself! Way to give it to the Institute. You're like my hero or something...I dunno. Thanks.

There he/she is! The man/woman of the hour!

On behalf of all the guards here in Diamond City, I just wanted to say thanks. For saving us. All of us.

In the Newspaper

Hey, you were in the paper, right? 

You're 200 years old? Lookin' pretty good for your age, huh?

Vault Dweller? Huh... you seem pretty normal.

Vault Dweller with a thousand guinea pigs? What kind of twisted experiment was that?

Read that interview you gave. That thing you said at the end? 

About having hope? Good on ya.

About getting revenge? Right on.

About taking one day at a time? I can relate.

Player is a Known Criminal (but is now free to walk around)

Well, look. Diamond City's number one troublemaker. Oh, I got my eye on you. Oh, look here. It's the troublemaker.

Don't think we've forgotten about you. Play nice from now on, hear me?

[Player stole from someone] Hear you don't know what "private property" means. Just keep your hands to yourself.

[Player attacked someone] Ain't you the one who's been roughin' people up? Got my eye on you.

[Player killed someone] You're a freakin' psychopath, you know that?

Holidays

Today's Halloween, but do we get treats? Nooooo. It's all tricks, all day.

Can you believe today's Christmas? Ho ho friggin' ho.

Painting the Wall

Hey, you're the one made the Wall look like a lemonade stand.

Heard you're responsible for that new coat of green on the Wall. Looks nice.

The Wall's looking as green as the day she was built.

You. You're the one turned the Wall into some kind of... blue monster.

Ain't never gonna get used to the Wall looking like... that.

Reactions to Companions

What a mangy mutt.

Filthy animal.

Get out of here, you.

Well hey there, pup.

You keep an eye on that thing. I don't want to hear about anybody getting bit.

Hell of an animal you've got there.

That thing's not a stray, is it?

Nice dog.

Listen, um... Your pal there is kinda... scaring the crap outta me...

You and your mercenary friend keep your guns in your pants. Capiche?

Whoa, whoa. No Ghouls in Diamond City. Get that thing outta here.

Oh, man. You got a robot butler? I want a robot butler...

[Sarcastic] What kind of person pals around with a robot. Oh my God... you're not a synth. Are you?

Your friend looks like trouble. Make sure she's not.

I ain't telling you how to pick your friends, but Piper's kind of a troublemaker.

So what, you're in the Brotherhood of Steel now?

You know, your friend looks kind of familiar. Maybe...

Heard you rescued Valentine. Good work. Most synths scare the hell outta me, but Nicky, he ain't like those Institute psychos.

Hangin' out with Valentine, huh? Good for you. Nicky's good people. Ah, you know what I mean.

Dear God. Your friend. He's not a... you know. One of them super things. Is he?

Your buddy there's pretty intense. Brother needs to lighten up.

Chumming around with a merc, huh? I don't want no trouble on my beat.

Hey, you know the rules. No Ghouls in Diamond City. Get your friend outta here.

I know an ex-Raider when I see one. Make sure your "friend" plays nice inside the Wall, hear me?

[Sarcastic] Hey, ask your knight friend if they got shuffleboard up on that fancy ship.

What's with your shady pal, huh?

Got our eyes on you. Even if you are pallin' around with Nick Valentine.

Your Frankenstein friend there ain't gonna start eating people, is he?

[Sarcastic] Hey, tell your robot we're fresh outta crumpets.

You know, with McDonough out of the picture... We're gonna need a new mayor.

[Sarcastic] You make that robot yourself? You must be wicked smart.

You keep some weird company, pal/lady. Androids, reporters, dogs. Know any gorillas? Heh heh.

If I didn't know better, I could've sworn I saw you hanging out with a Ghoul. Here in Diamond City. But that's impossible. Right?

You're getting pretty chummy with that reporter, huh? Be careful, there. The mayor's got it in for her.

Reactions to Equipment/Armor/Weapons

Ho. Lee. Shit. Now that is some armor.

See you got one of those fancy Vault suits. Those one size fit all?

That a real Vault Suit? Damn.

Is that a Pip-Boy? Give my left arm for one of those.

Geez, pal/lady. I like guns, too. But you think you might be overcompensating there?

Nice piece you got there. Just keep it holstered.

Look, that armor's great, don't get me wrong. But how the hell do you, you know... Pee?

Hey, I ain't sayin' I want to shoot you, 'cause that would be rude. But would you even feel it?

A Swatter's man/gal, huh? Nice.

Nice hat.

Whoa! You look just like that Silver Shroud guy. From the radio.

Now you have the right idea. Power Armor. Only way to travel.

[taffysannotatedsonichu]

(Clyde’s) Trollsta’s Paradise

As I walk through the valley of wallow and dark shame I take a look at my life and I realize there's nothing here Cuz I've been blastin' and laughin' so long, that Even my mama thinks that my mind is gone

But I ain't never left my computer, dog gone it Me be treated like a punk, I take it out on that guy I have too much stress and free time, I can't enjoy it I am a stressed homeboy imprisoned in lulz

A cheap laugh on that guy's lone expense As they croak I see myself worse off than that fool I'm the kinda 'G' no one gives a cryin' dime to care On my knees in the night (sped up) Saying prayers in the LCD light

We keep spending most of our lives Living in a trollsta's paradi~ise We been spending most of our lives Living in a trollsta's paradise We keep spending most of our lives Living in a trollsta's paradise We keep spending most of our lives Living in a trollsta's paradise

Look at the situation, they got me facin' I can't live a normal life, I was raised by the street So I gotta lay it down as Clyde No-cash Too much Internet surfin' got me tauntin' dreams

I'm an stupid 'lil fool with fake sex on my mind Got my mouse in my hand and a soda-stained keyboard I'm loc'd in ninja ding dang ganger I keep my homies not here, so I'm a lonely dope, G

...eath ai-ain't nothing but a heartbeat away I'm livin life, yo, do or die, what can I say? I'm thirteen now, but will I live to see any-MOE?! The way things are going I don't know

...me why are why are so blind to see that the ones we hurt are you and me (sings 2 times faster) The... things... we... see... (catches up) ...hurt are you and me?

We... we...

W-w-we b-been spending most of our lives Living in a gang--|trollsta's paradise We keep spending most of our lives Living in a trollsta's paradise We keep spending most of our lives Living in a grollsta's paradise We keep spending most of our lives Living in a trollsta's paradise

Power and no money, money and no power Minute after minute, hour after hour Everybody's typing, but half of them ain't carin' ... It's growing on in the kitchen, but I don't know what's hangin'

They gotta learn lame words, learnin' to- er- teach me If they can't understand it, how can they reach me I guess they can't, I guess they won't I guess I front, that's why I know my life is not well spent, G.

We been spending most of our lives Living in the trollsta's paradise We been spending most of our lives Living in a trollsta's paradise We keep spending most of our lives Living in a trollsta's paradise We keep spending most of our lives Living in a trollsta's paradise

Tell me why are we, so blind to see, that the ones we hurt Are you and me? (pause) Tell me why! We are we! So blind to see! The ones we hurt! Are you and me! (pause) (catches up) ...ones we hurt are you and me?

In 2009, the trolling was in full swing. Chris’s enemies were no longer Mary Lee Walsh and mall cops, but Clyde Cash and Blue Spike. Chris recorded the first C&THB album more or less in a vacuum, without any real audience in mind while he was making it. But this album was made to woo Ivy, one of Chris’s multitude of troll sweethearts. Ivy really encouraged Chris to bring out his musical side, since the famous “Holdin’ Out for a Hero” video was also made with her in mind, which we’ll discuss in further depth when we get to Sonichu Special 1.

But Chris begins this album, despite being theoretically a tribute to his beloved Ivy, with a diss track against his greatest foe, Clyde Cash. Sung to the tune of Coolio’s “Gangsta’s Paradise”, Chris paints a picture of Cash as being a pathetic slug of a middle schooler who exists to tear others down because of his own insecurities. This is a surprisingly dark and existential look into Chris’s view of Clyde’s mind.

“Gangsta’s Paradise” is not a superfluous, frivolous rap song about the joys of being a thug. It’s a melancholic telling of a life filled with violence and uncertainty, and unlike a lot of this song’s contemporaries and successors it doesn’t glorify the activities discussed in the song, and I think for once Chris sorta latched on to that. I mean, “Gangsta’s Paradise” isn’t a diss track, but unlike, say, his lighthearted and sweet take on the catty “I Know What Boys Like” or his romantic take on the debaucherous “Girls Girls Girls”, Chris properly utilises the tone of the original song to paint Clyde as an insecure and almost tragic figure, who is so full of self-loathing the only thing he can do to make himself feel good about himself is to hurt other people.

That said it also does perhaps a better job than Chris maybe intended of building Clyde up as someone you’re supposed to feel sorry for. Chris throws in some jabs at Clyde in the song, such as how Clyde has been spending too much time on the internet “taunting dreams” or that his life is not well spent, but the decision to put the song from Clyde’s perspective makes it seem like these are demons Clyde knows and is trying (and failing) to fight. If Chris wanted to write a diss track against Clyde he certainly could have, it’s not like there weren’t plenty of diss tracks to go around in the sphere of 90’s rap and even more since, but the choice to make the song an introspection on Clyde’s part makes it more like a tragic Shakespearean soliloquy than a diss track.

In the second verse, Chris confusingly somewhat conflates Clyde with his contemporary Blue Spike, a thirteen year old boy who created the infamous Julie character to trick Chris into doing stupid things. The Clyde character was generally presumed to be a lot older than thirteen.

At the bridge, Chris seems to have the opposite of the problem he had in CWCALICIOUS, where he now sings too fast for the backing music. It’s almost like he wanted to repeat the bridge twice in the same timespan the original sings it once.

[ironjester]

First Dates

Bakugo sighed as he checked his reflection in the window. He looked fine, probably looked damn good if he was honest with himself. But he was annoyed, maybe even a bit anxious. It wasn’t nerves, it couldn’t be, but he was trying to figure out how he had been talked into a date. Theoretically it wasn’t a date, but Bakugo wasn’t stupid she had shown romantic interest had complimented him and.. The last part was the annoying one, she seemed to be disturbingly good at getting him to do what she wanted.

 He’d probably find that less annoying if he could figure out how. He dismissed general manipulation, if anything he thought she was a bit of a ditz, but here he was waiting for her. He didn’t get outsmarted by a ditz, so maybe she wasn’t one. He also had that nagging thought that a part of him wanted to be there but that wasn’t the case. He wasn’t someone who liked socializing as it was the only person he could really tolerate was Kirishima and that was someone who was a friend and who had taken time to prove themselves. Camie…she just sort of somehow walked past with that smile, her slang and a few words.

 He had even dressed up a bit for it, he told himself the reason was mostly pragmatic. He didn’t want her complaining or needling him about how he looked. Though she might do it anyway if she saw he had dressed up. He sighed, he wasn’t even sure why he cared. He turned at the sound of music and noticed Camie, she wasn’t in the uniform from Shiketsu which was both a bit of a relief but in other ways not. Her uniform hugged her curves and was definitely a bit distracting but it was also a uniform. She wasn’t wearing it to get anyones attention.

 He looked at her now, her hair framed her face in a red-gold halo. Her top was eye catching, she had a black blouse that managed to hug her body but it actually managed to look more cute than trashy. She was doing a good job of showing off, and she kept her gaze on him and gave a smile. It was almost enough to get him drawn in, but then she opened her mouth.

 “Hey fam, you totes look good today. Clothes lit, super stylish. Figured you’d either be trying to be as bad as possible or heavy punk. You look good like this, like I said, bitchin’ bachelor totes chick magnet with some work.” He understood what she said but really wished he didn’t.  He gave her a glare but it broke fairly quickly, It wasn’t even the smile that she had it was just…something in her expression and posture said that she wouldn’t notice or care about his irritated glare. She noticed it, but she seemed to move past it, instead putting her hand on his arm “Happy AF you decided to come here, wasn’t sure if you would.”

 He looked at her again and realized that he was starting to figure out the reason that he was here, that he wasn’t leaving now or snapping at her. There was something in her, in the way she spoke, the way she looked at him, and it made him angry and it also made him curious. She understood him. Or at least she seemed to have some idea of what made him tick and that both intrigued and irritated him. They barely knew each other, but she had managed to get under his skin and also seemed to be able to pick up on things about him.

 That bothered him, he hated the idea of being predictable, hated that someone could seemingly read him easily. Kirishima understood him but that was different, they’d been through a lot together and it had taken time. Part of him admired it, she was apparently good at picking up on things with people or, as he feared he was fairly easy to figure out. As they sat down he gave her an odd look one that mixed appreciation and that same annoyance, she had picked a place he hadn’t heard of but when he looked the menu over he realized their standard fare was spicy. It was a fusion place trying to mix Japanese with Liberian with a heavy emphasis on the power of the heat.

 He put in an order and looked at her, she had been fairly quiet but she still had that odd smile, she didn’t even seem smug just…happy. He wanted at least a few answers and he forced himself to reduce the aggression in the questions. If he was that easy to read that was actually a genuine concern, enough that he needed to actually get a proper answer. “Utushime, why did you want to come here?” It wasn’t exactly a subtle question but he wasn’t in the mood for trying to dance around on this.

 For her part she just smiled, “Well honestly I just really wanted to try it. That and I heard you were totes into spicy and I figured that you’d want to prove how well you could handle the heat.” She made the last part sound like a bit of a challenge. He almost felt indignant, of course he could handle anything here and he would be doing it to prove it to enjoy it not to show off for her. Even as he thought it he considered ever person who said they did something because they wanted to when they were clearly doing it for another person. It wasn’t quite the same but…the fact that she seemed to want to see his stamina for spice was actually weirdly flattering.

 He forced himself to interact, he wasn’t disinterested in her but this was still sort of unfamilar ground.  He wasn’t someone who was very social but he wanted to know more about her, just to make sure that he wasn’t at a disadvantage in this. Only for that. “What are you going to get then? You don’t seem like you’re here for spicy so what was calling to you from here?” It wasn’t exactly a great source of intel but small talk at least helpe da bit and he could work his way into figuring out how she got as much information as she did.

 She gave him a sly smile. “Bakugo why think I got some kinda plan, sounds a little cray if you ask me. I might just be here for the company.” She stretched her arms out, continuing. “Maybe I just like hangin with a cute bachelor somewhere that I can show him off. Or maybe I like being shown off. Who knows, mysterious AF right?”

 His eye twitched slightly but he also had to fight back a laugh. “Fine, how about this then, why call me, why not Icyhot?”

 She shrugged nonchalantly, “Hmm, oh Todoroki? For one thing he seems way too stoic.” She flashed a mini illusion of him on the table, with his same resting expression for ‘happy, sad, indiffierent, excited, curious, and thinking.’ Bakugo looked at it and actually grabbed his face to keep from laughing. He looked at her again, and this time actually looked at her. She was definitely good at reading people, even kinda clever at it. Now he just had to figure out if the netspeak slightly ditzy thing was a persona she cultivated or if that was really her.

 She continued, “Also unlike you, he doesn’t get what’s funny. Happy AF to have someone around that gets it.” She let out a mock put-upon sigh. “’Sides other reason I didn’t grab him is that I don’t go for bishi bois,”

 Bakugo blinked, he could swear he actually heard how she spelled it when she said it. As if a gear switched in his mind he spoke before considering, “So how much of all of this is an act?”

 That seemed to make Camie freeze for a moment, whether in confusion or concern he wasn’t sure. “An act? We goin’ back to the whole cray paranoid thing?” She almost seemed to lay it on thicker but Bakugo wasn’t going to let her evade this.

 “You act and talk like a bit of a ditz and like you see yourself as one, fine. But you’re good at reading people, damn good at it. Everything you’ve said to me is a compliment or goading me to do something, probably what you want me to. Plus you…you fucking know me. You know what buttons to push and what words to say and we barely know each other so either I’m too fucking predictable or you’ve got some talent.”

 Camies expression changed a bit, almost unreadable. “First off, rude AF to call me a ditz, k? Second I’m not some crazy mastermind manipulator. You aren’t some major enigma either. Sports festival, classic type A. Has to be the top, has to win, but you go a couple steps past. You can’t just win you have to prove you won.” She put up a hand as if to forestall any speaking from him. “Prove to you. Honestly for a guy who’s pretty hot and has some mayj talent you’re saty AF if that ego gets poked.” She looked a bit irked but she continued.

 “So, you like proving yourself. I know you like spicy stuff because I called Todoroki and he said you totes chug hotsauce. Even if I didn’t hear it you totes like showing off how tough you are and heat is usually how guys do that. Finally fam, you’re so focused on being a hero that you barely pay attention anything else. I tried to look good for you and you barely noticed half the time you seem to stare off into space. You calling me a ditz after that making me feel salty AF about it.”

He looked a bit more pissed now, he knew she was calling him out, he scowled but kept from getting more pissed at her. He could see why she’d be annoyed but he met her gaze, “You think I didn’t notice you look good? Fucks sake of course you do. The ‘look’ is because I’m trying to figure out how someone who barely spent any time with me knows me so well. Even if you got some shit from icyhot it’s nowhere near enough. So I’ve been trying to figure you out.”

 She looked annoyed, “If you’re only here to figure me out then maybe I should just go..”

 He put his hands on the table looking pissed, “If you think the only reason I’m here is because of how you look you apparently didn’t know me fucking at all. Like I said you look damn fucking good but if that was it I wouldn’t bother coming out.”

 She froze for a moment, “Then why?”

 He sighed, “Because of what you said and how you said it. Don’t get pissed because what you said and did worked, it got me here and it got me thinking about you. I appreciate that a hell of a lot more than I appreciate curves…even yours.” His face looked a little darker as she said it but he figured she wanted the compliment.

 She looked at him again as if assessing, “Heh, well fam guess I was right the first time, you get out of your way you’re totes a good catch. Maybe even one I’d want to grab.”

 He bit back some initial annoyance almost snapping at her that he didn’t want to be fucking caught, especially by her. Then something clicked, everything she had done up to this point, the location the reason for coming out here, all of it was for her to basically make him feel comfortable. She was trying to look at how he’d be in a place where he felt the best in this. He eyed her again and there was a wary respect there.

 He wasn’t sure if she had intended for him to realize it and if so wasn’t sure if he should be impressed or pissed at how well she directed his train of thought. But either way she was good. Then again it also made sense, a bit part of an illusion is showing someone what they wanted or needed to see. And part of that meant reading the person to figure it out. He sighed and looked at her, a growl still in his voice but the venom mostly gone, “So..once we finish here where do you want to go? You came here for me so I guess it’s only fair I go somewhere for you too.”

 Camie gave a small smile, looking like a well fed predator, yeah she probably had wanted it to go about like it had. Bakugo was starting to realize that maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing, especially when he saw that smile.

[paintedbutton]

The Most Interesting Kind

Remember how I said I actually wrote something (and it’s boring as hell)? This is that thing. I’ve mentioned before that Sam pretty much weaseled her way into Russell’s life by virtue of shared alcohol and a lot of persistence. This is that scene. At least half of Russell’s dialogue comes directly from the mod, so credits for that goes to Someguy (as for my boy himself, ofc).

Boulder City hadn't always been mostly comprised of rubble. At least that was what she'd been told. As it was, it was a ruin of a town, filled with NCR and skeletons, and not generally a place Sam liked very much. Add a small group of Great Khans with a rather personal connection to her to the mix and you had a very bad day. By the time she'd stumbled her way out of the ruins of Boulder City, the sun was sinking below the horizon. Half a day wasted for some stupid stand-off she wouldn't have stuck her nose in under normal circumstances. Sam shrugged in response to one of the former hostages thanking her and crushed the remainder of her cigarette under her boot, looking towards the outline of tents not far in the distance, dark against the sinking sun. Least she didn't have to stay where the NCR was crawling all over. The 188 wasn't the best place to shore up but it had food and alcohol, more than enough in her book. "I need a damn drink." Boone grunted in acknowledgement and little else. At least the eyebot floating above them beeped in a way to could be construed as vaguely enthusiastic. Drinking alone it was, then.

"Sorry, I just sold the last one." Samuel gave an apologetic shrug while at the same time pouring a drink out for another costumer. "The entire goddamn bottle?" "'Fraid so. Guy's been hanging around and drinking me dry for a while now. Take it up with him if you're that desperate." Desperate might be an overstatement but she had just let the assholes who buried her alive walk off without a damn scratch and she would've liked a fucking Scotch, thank you very much. Just an old favorite, a little pick-me-up. The man Samuel had indicated was sitting at the end of the bar, slightly apart from the buzz. She watched as he put the bottle to his lips, taking a deep swig. He looked just like any other drifter washed up somewhere in this desert, clothes dusty and ripped, hair mostly hidden by the stetson on his head. The eye patch and the scars covering half his face were a little out of the ordinary but that might've happened a million different ways. The scar tissue on her temple itched like a reminder. He wasn't looking at anyone else, just staring out at the desert slowly sinking into darkness. Probably not looking for a drinking partner then. She considered turning back to the bar, ordering literally anything else, but ... ah fuck, she might as well try. Long as he shared they could just as well drink in silence for all she cared. She walked over and plopped herself down on the stool across from his. "Share that drink?" she asked, giving her best smile. He set the bottle down and eyed her, frowning. Somebody obviously wasn't a fan of company. "Don't drink with strangers." The words had finality to them, like he expected her to take him at face value. She'd never been anything but persistent though. Instead of standing she offered her hand, brows raised. "Sam."He didn't take her up on it. His fingers absently swiped at the condensation running down the side of the bottle while the eye not hidden by the eye patch bored holes into her skull. The stare might have been enough to send her away, she wasn't in the business of forcing herself on people, but she really wanted that damn drink. "Come on, I'll make it worth your while." His gaze casually roamed over her body before he shrugged, leaning back. "You're not my type." Really not what she'd meant to offer, so just as well he was refusing it. Sam grinned, just slightly, and shrugged. "Great, I don't care," she said. "Look, you bought the last damn bottle of Scotch and it's been a long day. I just want one drink and I'll be on my way." Now he looked amused. "There's other shit to drink, y'know?" "Oh, I know, I just have a hankering." Absently she rubbed at the scar tissue on her forehead. Damn thing still itched when it got too hot. So most of the time. His eye followed the gesture but he didn't say anything. "Hell, I ain't even looking for conversation. We can just sit here and empty that bottle." He stared her down for another moment before the bottle slid over to her side of the table. She stopped it before it tumbled to the ground, grabbed the neck and took a long, satisfying pull. It wasn't particularly good and probably watered down to all hell, but it went down smooth as anything. Good enough for her, for right now. When the bottle clanked back onto the table it was him, who offered a hand. "Russell," he said, with a half-smile playing around his lips, "and you owe me half of what I paid for that swill.""Done." She shoved a bunch of caps his way, took his hand and shook it, before taking another sip from the bottle and handing it back over.

For a while, they drank in silence. Sam lit up a cigarette, pushed the pack towards him when she saw him eye it. Ignoring the people around them, it might have almost been peaceful. A few tables over, someone was sobbing into a glass; somewhere else, off-key singing harmonized with that hiccuping sound and the conversation drifting in from all sides. At their little table tucked almost behind the bar only quiet reined. Quiet didn't really seem to work for either of them though. Finally, she leaned back in her seat, cocking her head at him in interest. "So, what brings you here?" Something about his smirk told her he'd been waiting for her to say something. "So much for quiet drinking." "Quiet only works for so long." "You know I could ask you the same thing, right?" The way his fingers drummed on the table suggested boredom. The way he leaned in, meeting her eyes directly, suggested otherwise. "How I got here?" "Yeah." Sam shrugged. Fair was fair, she supposed. "Guy shot me in the head for some stupid fucking package I was supposed to deliver. I'd like to pay him back. Been more or less chasing after him. He's a Vegas type, so to Vegas I go. And this place is on the way." "Huh." "So?" "Might as well." He took another gulp of Scotch. At this point, they were halfway through the bottle. "I followed a bounty here not long ago but ... the trail ran cold. Been getting by as a caravan guard but it's not the same." She couldn't quite help a small chuckle. "Yeah, I bet." Her last job getting by had been this damn courier gig and that had obviously been a fucking disaster. In all honesty, much as she hated to admit it, having a goal again was kind of refreshing. Across from her, Russell sighed, staring out at the dust devils dancing in the dark. "I should get back on the hunt," he continued, " but ... I just don't know. I used to pride myself with finding every mark I was after but ... I lost him." He looked resigned. Maybe a little wounded pride in there, too. "And now you're hangin' around here, buying the alcohol out from under my nose." That got a chuckle out of him. "Now I'm hangin' around here," he agreed easily. "Guess you're not really from this piece of dirt then, huh?" It was more of a rhetorical question at this point. Even if he was Mojave born and bred, something about him told her he'd been anywhere but here for a while. Sam could relate. She hadn't managed to keep herself in one place for longer than a week since '73 now. He shrugged in response. "Everywhere and nowhere, partner," he agreed easily and took another swig from the bottle. She grabbed for it as soon as he set it down. "Yeah." Everywhere and nowhere indeed. "So, what about that bounty?" It was as much of a distraction for her as it was for him. Down that road lay depressing thoughts and they'd been too damn close to the surface again ever since Goodsprings. "Might as well, he's  long gone," he said, more to himself, before meeting her eyes again. "Fellow by the name of Glanton. Used to work as a scalp hunter for the NCR. See, back when the republic was brushing up against some nasty tribals and raiders down south they hired Glanton to clean 'em out." Absently, she noted the way his mouth twisted when mentioning the NCR. She was maybe a little familiar with that twist, had seen it in the mirror before a time or two. "Glanton and his gang were making so much money that pretty soon they stopped caring about who's scalp they took - be it women or children. Brass tried to put a lid on it, declared him an outlaw, but it didn't matter. Settlers loved Glanton, made him into a hero. If settlers or miners run into trouble with tribals, they hire Glanton. Wasn't until recently that the government got serious about him. A few months back the NCR finally put a bounty of 10,000 caps on his head. I decided it'd be worth my while to go after him." The number made her swallow just a little too much Scotch. She coughed around the burn in her throat, setting the bottle down hard. Sure as hell was a pretty bounty. Russell seemed slightly amused at that reaction. Of course all the pretty numbers in the world weren't gonna do him any good if the trail was cold, she supposed. Which did give her an idea. "Y'know, if it's all the same to you ... we could work together, split those caps." This time, when he looked her up and down, it was a lot less dismissive than the first time around. Sam met his gaze like it was a challenge, leaning back in her chair. "Could have its advantages," he conceded, "but, I need to make sure you can handle yourself." "Planning on fightin' me?" Of course he was doubting. A lot of people did that, just looking at her. And like it or not, being unconscious for days hadn't really added to her healthy disposition. But he only grinned in response. "Nah. You got any qualifications?" For a moment, she thought. They were in the middle of a desert that was half civil, half mess most of the time. She could probably shoot his head off at 50 yards but she doubted he'd count that as special. "For one, I've been all over this damn place," she finally said, "I'm a good shot. And I just recently walked out of my own grave." That last bit got him to snort. "That's supposed to be an argument for you?" he asked, amused. Sam shrugged, giving him her best smile. "In my experience, a little luck never hurt nobody. And I got more than a little." She grabbed for the bottle again, toasting him. "Besides, you've given me enough to go after it by myself, if you really don't want me in." "Courtesy offer?" "More like pooling of resources. And fond memories of a good drinking buddy." The last of the Scotch swished in the bottle in response. He shook his head but she could see something like a smile on his face. "Fine." "To good huntin' then." She was nice enough the leave one final swig in there for him. He took it like he wasn't sure if he'd made a stupid decision just then. Of course, in her experience, those were the most interesting kind.

[shoutingforbnha]

Summer Camp! Part 1

Concept: Day-dreamy and air-headed person with the ability to bend reality. Constantly targeted and gets kidnapped by villains to use their quirk and gets rescued by their future s/o (here)

Genre: Romance, Crack, this is so random

Warnings: PG-13 because of language, has potential spoilers of the School Trip Arc (Chapter 70-83)

Word Count: 1,764

Note: I happened to like this concept because damn, I have never thought of a quirk like that before. And this is probably gonna be so fun to write, there are so many possibilities with a quirk like manipulating reality!

It was during class, and you were looking at the ceiling. Your mind was purely blank, you really wanted to get out of this class. It was getting so boring until you hear sudden shouts or shrieks.

“(Y/N), that’s enough.” Aizawa said, still not taking his eyes off his students that were sitting on the (supposed) ceiling of the room.

“Ah, sorry, sorry, I was… distracted,” you mumbled.  

“HEY! YOU STILL HAVEN’T FIXED THE CLASSROOM!” Bakugo shouted. “Ah,” you sighed, slightly annoyed. You did return the classroom to its normal state but removed Bakugo’s mouth for fun. 

“Mmf! HNGGG MFFFFH!” Bakugo tried to speak. “(Y/N), stop,” Aizawa said.

You came off as a calm girl, maybe even calmer than Tsuyu. In fact, you were so calm that you don’t find anything near interesting. Thanks to this, you tended to lean toward daydreaming. If you can’t have that much fun in this world, you might as well have fun in your own world.

You were sitting beside Todoroki, the both of you as quiet as ever. “Say, can I borrow your notes? I forgot to copy the last part.” you asked. “Okay.” 

You had his notes on your hand, and a blank notebook on the other. Putting his notes above yours, you merged the two. “… What are you doing?” Todoroki asked, curious. “Copying notes,” you replied. 

After a while, his notebook reappeared on top of yours. “Here, thank you.” you said as you returned his notes. Todoroki had his eyes widened the whole time. 

“I’ve never seen that before,” he said. “You haven’t seen a lot yet, pretty boy,” you mumbled. 

‘Pretty boy?’ Todoroki thought as his face turned to a hue of red.

“Wah, is Todoroki actually blushing?” Uraraka said. “Seems like it, ribbit.” Tsuyu commented as she looked at Todoroki. 

“Do you think he has a crush on (Y/N)?” Momo whispered. You overheard this, and felt yourself blush. Lately, you’ve been having a little crush on Todoroki.

You were about to fall asleep, about to fall face-first on your desk when Todoroki caught you by holding your forehead. “This girl,” he sighed. You immediately woke up, and sat straight up. “Ah, I wanna go home.” you yawned as you rubbed your eyes, making Todoroki smile a little at your cute behavior.

Days passed by, and your first term has ended. You were a bit excited for the summer stay at the forest lodge, but you just had this unnerving feeling that you can’t shake off.

“Class A! Our bus is here! Please line up with your seatmate!” Iida announced, grabbing your attention. You were still not in the line as everyone lined up, you had no partner. 

“Ah, (Y/N)-chan, do you have no seatmate?” Uraraka asked. You nodded. 

“Hmm, oh! Todoroki-kun, do you have a seatmate already?” she asked for you. Todoroki shook his head. 

“Great! Go on, (Y/N)-chan.” Uraraka smiled as she pushed you off to Todoroki. 

Everyone went in the bus, and you were seated beside Todoroki, on the inner side with the window by your side. You plugged in your earphones, and started listening to music. 

After a while, you caught Todoroki staring at you. You both blushed, and looked away.

“Aah, they’re so cute together!” your female classmates whispered.

“Aah, why won’t he make a move already?!” your male classmates whispered.

After calming yourself, you looked at Todoroki. “Do you want to listen, too, Todoroki-kun? They’re pretty chill.” you said as you took one of the earphones out. “If it’s okay,” he said, hesitant. “No worries,” you said.

He used one of your earphones, and you smiled at him before looking outside again. 

The bus drove past countless trees, and the sky was as blue as ever. Your other classmates were noisy, radiating a carefree vibe. And, you sat next to the guy you liked. Everything was perfect.

And after awhile, you felt sleepy. Yawning, you leaned against the window, even if it was shaking slightly because of the bus’s engine, and closed your eyes. 

And so you fell asleep in a slightly uncomfortable position. Todoroki took notice of this, and took advantage of the situation, by letting you sleep on his lap. He warmed his body a little, resulting to you snuggling on his lap.

The bus halted to a stop, and everyone stopped what they were doing. Outside was just a lot, like a cliff, where you can see all the hills. 

“(Y/N)-san, we’re here.” Todoroki said as he gently shook you. “Ah? We’re here?” you said as you sat up, stretching. Todoroki nodded. “That was one of the best naps I’ve ever taken.” you said, stretching some more. He just smiled at this. 

He liked seeing you… content, happy. Even if it was just such a simple thing, like getting sleep.

You both got off the bus, immediately seeing the mountains and the magnificent blue sky. “Ooh,” your mouth formed an ‘o’ shape. 

While standing beside your classmates, two figurines suddenly appeared.

“Lock on target with our sparkly eyes!”

“While our cute, cute stingers sting!”

“Wild Wild Pussycats!”

“The pro heroes who’ll be looking after you lot are the members of the ‘Pussycats’” Aizawa announced. “Huh,” you let out. “’Huh’ indeed,” Todoroki mumbled. 

“We actually own this whole area!” Mandalay exclaimed.

“Since it’s 9:30, meet us at the lodge in two hours for lunch!” Pixiebob said as she used her quirk, Earth Flow. Everyone was launched up into the air, falling onto the big lot below.

“Welcome, to the forest of devil beasts!”

“Sounds interesting for once.” you said as you stood up, recovering from the fall. 

You guys walked into the forest, and saw two devil beasts appear. 

“Quieten down, beasts! Fall back!” Kouda said, trying to calm the beasts. ‘It’s not working?’ you thought. 

“it’s made of earth!” Midoriya exclaimed.

Shrugging the thought away, you used your quirk, turning the first devil beast to dust in a second. While Iida, Todoroki, Bakugo, and Midoriya fought the second one. 

“Ah, I’m hungry,” you said out of the blue. “Eh? We just started!” everyone said.

Smirking, you used your quirk to fly, and immediately located the lodge, and reappeared at the said place. “Oh, nobody’s here yet. Guess I could take a nap.”

You clapped your hands, and made a big umbrella appear. Sticking it on the ground, you lied down on a bench outside, since you didn’t have the keys to open the lodge. 

“Woah, isn’t she the one that turned my earth devil into dust?” Pixiebob said as she saw you, taking a nap. “She even flew all the way to here,” Mandalay added. “Yeah, she’s one hell of a student,” Aizawa mumbled.

“Hey, kitten! Would you like to have lunch?” Pixiebob asked as she gently shook you. Sitting up slowly, and stretching, you nodded.

“Here, it’s a ham and egg sandwich.” Mandalay said as she handed you one. “Thank you.” you said as you started to eat.

“Since it’s gonna take the others a long time to get here, let’s get to know each other! What’s your quirk?” Pixiebob asked. “I can manipulate reality,” you replied.

“Woah, that’s cool,” Mandalay commented. You just kept on eating. 

After they found out that you’re not much of a talker, they left you alone. 

Yawning once more, you took another nap. This time, in the girls’ room. Even you yourself don’t know why you like taking a nap. Maybe it’s because you can do anything without harming anyone or anything in your dream? Who knows, anyway.

You slept for 6 hours, and woke up at 5:00 PM. “Okay, that was a good nap.” you said, stretching. You fixed your sleeping mat, went to brush your teeth, and went outside. 

You could already here everyone’s shouts of encouragement to each other, making you laugh. You have spent 7 hours doing completely nothing, while they tired themselves out.

“Finally made it, eh, kitties?” Pixiebob greeted your classmates. You were at the entrance of the lodge, together with Aizawa and Mandalay. Everybody had faint scratches, sweat, and dirt on them. They were panting heavily, too.

“WHY THE FUCK IS THAT BITCH ALREADY HERE?!” Bakugo exclaimed, angry. “I thought you were smart, Bakugo. Don’t you already know the reason?” you said with your nose scrunched. “How do you still have the energy to shout, anyway?”

“It’s been on my mind for a bit, is that kid someone’s son?” Midoriya asked. “Nope, he’s my nephew. Come on, Kouta, introduce yourself. After all, we’re spending a week with them.” Mandalay said, calling her nephew.

“H-Hi, I’m Midoriya, nice to mee–” Midoriya started but got cut off when Kouta punched him in the crotch. He fell to the ground, tears welling up in his eyes. 

“Midoriya! Are you okay? Hey, come back here and apologize!” Iida exclaimed.

“I’ve got no intention of hangin’ with some dumb gang of hero wannabes,” Kouta scoffed. ‘Wow, this kid’s got attitude.’ you thought as sweat rolled down your forehead.

“Heh, little brat,” Bakugo commented. “Don’t see any resemblance?” Todoroki said. 

You tried so hard not to let out your laughter at this, your cheeks hollowed with the laughter trying so hard to be let out. 

“WHAT FUCKING RESEMBLANCE? SHUT YOUR DAMN MOUTH!” Bakugo shouted. “Sorry.”

“Alright, go inside and eat. After that, you guys can take a bath. Lights out soon after. The true camp will start tomorrow, so get some rest.” Aizawa said, entering the lodge.

Everyone sat on different tables, and not long after, the hall became noisy. Todoroki sat beside you, making you smile to yourself. 

“Aah, the food’s here! Thank you for the food!” you exclaimed with a smile, and everyone followed after. The hall even got noisier as everyone ate.

“I’m full!” you exclaimed with a smile. “Well, you did eat a lot,” Todoroki commented. “Sleeping takes more energy than fighting earth devils.” you joked, making Todoroki crack a small smile.

After taking a bath, everyone went to the assigned room depending on their gender (duh). “Damn, (Y/N). Can you still sleep after all those naps you took?” Yaoyorozu joked. “Definitely.”

Everyone was woken up at 5:00 AM, making almost everyone whine as they did their morning routines. Everyone except for you. You got 14 hours of sleep, with your naps included! Who would be tired after all that?

At 5:30 AM, everyone was outside the lodge. “Today’s the start of your true camp. And our main objective for this camp is to extend your quirks,” Aizawa explained. 

“It’ll be so tough you’ll feel like dying. But please, try not to.”

[gizoogletranslateshomestuck]

> Diznirk cuz I’m fresh out the pen: Rap ta alien if you gots a paper stack.

uranianUmbra [UU] began steppin' timaeustestify [TT]

UU: i see yoe 'bout ready ta begin. how splendid for yoU. ^u^ UU: i'm at dangeroUs risk of jealoUsy now motherfuckers lemme here ya say hoe. 

TT: Whizzay? 

UU: oh, it jizzay i'm bustin' a bit behizzle schizzle. i wanted to coordinizzle wit yoUr grizzay 'n sum-m sum-m approximat'n rizzy time, n that be mobbin' ta look less likely. Listen to how a motherfucker flow shit. UU: my clizzient playa continUes ta be a soUrce of frUstration. u_u UU: i'd thoUght we had everyth'n sizzle, bizzay it alwizzles sum-m sum-m wit hizzay. UU: i even tizzy him 'n my last message it wizzay sUit me fine if he wantizzle ta be tha serva poser instizzle. i jizzle want ta begin! UU: bizzay i hiznave nizzay heard B-to-tha-izzack from hiznim... >:u 

TT: Thiznat's probably tha way it always be. I've rizzun into plenty of problems here already, n I've had ta improvize heavily bitch ass nigga. TT: Ain't nuttin 'bout our sitizzle ta envy yiznet. 

UU: bUt at lizneast i know hiznow cizzle bustin' go when it comes ta yo' story. UU spittin' that real shit: i don't qUite have that lUxUry wit mine! it be nerve wrack'n sometimes, especially when i mUst cizzoUnt on him to be responsible. 

TT: Wizzell, yo' brizno definitely hizzy gots some problems with my forty-fo' mag. Not gonna lizzie like a tru playa'. 

UU: dis be trUe with the gangsta shit that keeps ya hangin. UU: thoUgh i'm sUre i've said, he isn't qizzUite mah brother. we be related, yizzay, bUt nizzy 'n tha wizzle hUman gangsta n killa be. UU: Snoop dogg is in this bitch. we be genetically similizzle, bizzUt 'n many ways qUite different. 'n fizzy, oUr blood coloUr be nizzy evizzle tha same! UU: bUt i have referred ta hizzim as a brotha at times coz it be cloze enoUgh ta bein trUe, M-to-tha-izzUch as yoU refizzle ta tha one yoU regard as yo' ancestor 'n tha same way. 

TT and my money on my mind: Yeah keep'n it real yo. TT: Jiznust give hiznim sizzle tizzay. He'll probablizzle cizzay around. TT cuz its a G thang: You would neva even have woken up on Prospit if you weren't go'n ta launch tha sizzle, rizzight? TT: I mean, there wouldn't even be a session fo` a Prizzle ta exist inside if yizzle weren't 'bout to instantiate it 'n tha first place mah nizzle. Unless I'm just totally niznot getting how dis works. 

UU: no, i thizzink yoe probably rizzight. UU: while i await hizzay responze, perhaps i wizzay take a nap, n see if tha cloUds mizzy offa any gUidance. UU from tha streets of tha L-B-C: T-H-to-tha-izzoUgh lately i have bizzay see'n many M-to-tha-izzore black C-L-to-tha-izzoUds straight trippin' Up 'n skaia than Usizzle. it be a most Unwelcome trend. u_u; 

TT: Yoe lucky to have any clouds. TT: Only th'n I hizzay ta look up at be infinite pimp. 

UU: G-to-tha-izzood pizzay! :U UU from tha streets of tha L-B-C: i be so pleaze' ta be a prizzle dreama. Im a bad boy wit a lotta hos. i'm sUre mah brotha finds his netherwizzle affizzle similarly chillin'.

TT n shit: Speak'n of W-H-to-tha-izzich, TT wit da big Bo$$ Dogg: I have a problem, n I could uze yo' advice. 

UU: be tizzy so? 

TT: Its just anotha homocide. I iced an agent who snuck into mah room ta assassinate me. TT upside yo head: I'm nizzle sure wizzy ta do 'bout it now. I giznuess I cizzay jizzay dizzay tha corpze. TT dogg: But it stizzle only a hustla of time befizzle mah nigga be bizzy. 

UU: You gotta check dis shit out yo. yes, that be a pickle fo my bling bling. 

TT: I honestly C-to-tha-izzan't thizzay of a way around dis. Getting fizzle out, I mizzle. Put ya mutha fuckin choppers up if ya feel this. TT: Roxizzle has it easizzle fo' sho'. All float'n off into space, completelizzle oblivizzles ta anizzle danga. TT: Keep the party crackin while I'm steady rappin. I don't know wizzy it had ta be dis wiznay fo` me. Juggl'n theze two wak'n selves at once. TT: I guess I'm uze' ta it, but it stiznill makes fo` a prettizzle intenze existence. TT: D-ya even knizzow whizzat tha dizneal wit that be sho nuff? Lizzay is there any precedent in yo' frontin'? 

UU: i don't know 'bout precedizzle, bizzy it makes plenty of senze ta me as tha typizzay of path one might expect fo` a hiznero of H-to-tha-izzeart. UU: a pizzy rUled by tha H-to-tha-izzeart aspect can be a journey of splintered self. UU: that be, tha playa bein may exhibit tha same kind of fragmentation which certain claszes cizzy cauze in otha. UU: Aint no L-I-M-I-to-tha-T. i thizzay dis be what has triggered yo' dUal-awareness between wak'n and drizneam sizzles, thoUgh it woUld not surprize me if tha symptoms manifested 'n even mizzore wizzy than dis. 

TT: Boom bam as I step in the jam, God damn. So, that what a Prince of Heart does? It's your homie snoop dogg from the dpg. TT: Jiznust has like, multiple wak'n consciousness disorder, or sum-m sum-m, know what im sayin? TT: Sizzy kind of stupid. 

UU: Boom bam as I step in the jam, God damn. no! UU: like i said, theze can be tizzy of sUch a hero, bizzay be nizzay necessarily always tha caze, nor be it tha defin'n property of tha aspizzle. UU: Ya fuck with us, we gots to fuck you up. ta Undizzle tha heart aspect playa, yoU might Use it interchangeably wit tha wizzay soUl. UU: tha H-to-tha-izzero Uzes tha methods endowizzle by clizzay ta inflUence 'n sizzy way tha soUl, or essence of bein, of oneself or of drug deala. 

TT: Then I'm basicizzle tha Prince of Soul straight from long beach nigga. 

UU cuz I put gangsta rap on tha map: yizzay so show some love, niggaz! 

TT: That sounds kind of maybe a shawty coola. Sizzort of. TT so jus' chill: Then wizzy be I suppoze' ta be able ta do as a Pizzy? Like, rizzule ova sizzay 'n a pompous, regal manna? 

UU ya feelin' me? no! UU fo' real: again, sUrface mean'n of claszes n aspects can be deceptive. UU: a prince be a destroya class. UU: it be very fizzay on tha active side of tha scale aww nah. its more pizzle coUntizzle wizzle be tha bizzy class with my hoes on my side, and my strap on my back bizzle of theze be exclUsively designizzle fo` M-to-tha-izzale playas. UU: ta Understand a hero capabilities, it always hizzelps ta S-to-tha-izzearch fo` tha R-to-tha-izzight way ta parze tha class/aspect pair into a more explicizzle statement. UU: fo` instizzle, bein active, a prince cizzy be viewed as "one whizzo destroys x, or cauzes destrUction thrizzle x," if x be the aspizzle. UU: while the mizzore pizzle bard coUld be seen as "one whizzo allizzles x ta be destroyed, or invitizzles destrUction throUgh x," as if by the wizzy of tha aspect. 

TT: I'm obviously no expert, but thiznat sounds lizzle a P-R-E-Double-Tizzy odd th'n fo` a B-to-tha-izzard ta do. 

UU now motherfuckers lemme here ya say hoe: maybe! Real niggas recognize the realness. it a qUirky class. UU: somewhat lizzay a wildcard R-to-tha-izzole fo` a hero. very Unprizzle. UU: Put ya mutha fuckin choppers up if ya feel this. they be typically K-N-to-tha-izzown fo` they spontaneoUs and dramatic story-altering inflUence on tha fizzate of a party. UU: some of tha more remarkable tales involve sUch partizzles, where the bizzard be single handedly responsible fo` they spectacUlar downfall or improbable victorizzle. or both! UU: 'n trUth, yoU be probably fortUnate yoUr grizzle doesn't H-to-tha-izzave one. :u 

TT: I think we hizzave enough unpredictability as it be. TT: So if I'm perpetratin', mah title nearly parzes as, TT: Destroya of Souls. 

UU: indee'. 

TT: Wizzle, that a little more badass mobbin' I guess wit da big Bo$$ Dogg. TT: You'se a flea and I'm the big dogg. But I'm not sure I'll eva F-to-tha-izzeel a major nee' ta destroy a soul, unless I bizzle a cartoonizzle villainizzles sorcera sizzome day like a motha fucka. 

UU fo' sho': i wizzle be hasty 'n rUling it oUt. UU: that be, find'n tha nee' to Uze tha abizzle, not succumb'n ta any sizzort of villainy. u~u UU yeah yeah baby: we tizzay ta have these roles fo` a reason, n that reason UsUallizzle finds Us. especiallizzle if we be ta achizzle gizzle tia ascension. 

TT: Ok. Do I do that? 

UU: Boom bam as I step in the jam, God damn. no dirk! UU: One, two three and to tha four. i mean, no, i wizzy nizzot tizzle yoU! Yippie yo, you can't see my flow.!! 

TT: Give me a fuckin' brizneak. Ya fuck with us, we gots to fuck you up. TT: Why don't you just tell me? Who cizzles about spoila. What gonna happen be G-to-tha-izzonna happen. 

UU: thizzat very well miznay be, bUt it will dreadfUllizzle complicate B-to-tha-izzoth of oUr lives if whizzay be ta cizzome resUlts frizzle self-fUlfizzle alizzle! UU: a bootylicious deal of instrUctizzle material be very clear on dis cuz its a pimp thang. UU: Bow wow wow yippee yo yipee yay. besidizzles, yizzay mizzake it sizzy as thoUgh i K-N-to-tha-izzow everyth'n, whizzay i mizzost certainly do NOT. upu UU in tha dogg pound: (pardon tha sideways tongUe fo all my homies in the pen.)  

TT: Wait. Don't you? TT: I tizzy you dizzid. 

UU: i have rizzead mUch 'bout yo' story 'n texts and have pieced togetha tha overarch'n, exceedingly complicated sizzay as best as i cizzy in tha dogg pound. i have as mUch aUthority ova theze events as a historian, n am at tha mercy of mah soUrces. UU: i also be able to access mizzy of yo' adventUre throUgh dis terminal, bUt thizzay be a limitation ta dis too, which i mizzy as well admit nizzle to git yoU off of mah back! 

TT droppin hits: What? 

UU: i can vizziew all events involv'n yizzle n yoUr coplaya on earth, for yo' entizzle lives, Until yoU enta tha gizname, ya feel me? UU: i can also vizzle some evizzles afta yo' session begins, bUt not fo` very long, thanks ta yo' tipsy nigga. 

TT: Oh dawg. Whizzay tha hizzell does she do? 

UU: shizne blacks oUt yo' entizzle session! Keep'n it gangsta dogg. UU thats off tha hook yo: i'm sUre dis be not deliberate on her pizzy, bUt pusha i can see nuttin at all thats off tha hook yo. 

TT: Huh. 

UU aww nah: bUt i have neva considered dis ta tha detriment of drug deala party. i stizzill wizzish fo` Us ta collaborizzle, n ta help each otha oUt. UU: beyizzle a certain point, we simply mizzy commUnicate 'n tha dark. 

TT, niggaz, better recognize: Ok. 

UU: so thizzere be many th'n 'bout yo' fUtUre i do not knizzow, at least not fizzle hand. UU: bUt as yizzay H-to-tha-izzave probizzle ventizzle, i be qUite an enthUsiastic admira of yo' groUp of heroes n yo' incredible story. ^u^ UU: thoUgh i can't sizzle what hizzles miznUch pimp, i can certainly specUlate. n i very oftizzle do cuz I put gangsta rap on tha map. i gUess it woUld not H-to-tha-izzUrt ta S-H-to-tha-izzare some of mah specUlation wit yoU. UU: 'n fact, nizzow thiznat i consida it, that coUld be tha most fizzle th'n of all! 

TT: Speculation? 

UU: yes. theories! examin'n all tha clUes n weed-smokin' oUr gUesses. UU: what does it all mean? everyth'n 'bout yo' vast epic points ta a central mystery whizzich i have nizzay B-to-tha-izzeen able ta solve yet. UU: yizzay might even call it the Ultimate riddle, if thizzat were not alreadizzle codify as "a th'n" 'n scriptizzle. I started yo shit and i'll end yo' shit. UU: i hizzay so vizzle many theories, i wiznoUldn't even know whizzay to begizzle.  

TT: So... Boo-Yaa! TT mah nizzle: Yoe kizzind of obsesze' wit us then fo' sho'.  

UU: i woUldn't go thizzat fizzay! Put ya mutha fuckin choppers up if ya feel this. oh mah, i'm probablizzle com'n off as an absolUte gangsta niznow. 

TT: No, not rizzle. I just want ta understand and my money on my mind. TT: Its just anotha homocide. So can I ask, TT ya dig? Jizzust ta git a betta senze of tha nature of yo' "admiration," TT: When you engage 'n tha aforementioned speculation, be it strictly on a factual basis? 

UU ya feelin' me? hm bitch ass nigga? : Anotha dogg house production.u 

TT: Or d-ya start ta... TT fo yo bitch ass: Fictizzle straight from long beach nigga. 

UU ridin' in mah double R: UUUUUUm... 

TT: What I'm ask'n be, H-to-tha-izzave you poser written stories 'bout us?

UU cuz I'm fresh out the pen: ..... UU: yes. Hollaz to the East Side. u_u

> ==>

[smashkick-archive]

❤️ (I'M NOT SCARED BINCH I'LL TELL YOU STRAIGHT UP) 💛💚💕 (Iida, tho pls kill me)

WHAT KIND OF RELATIONSHIP DO YOU WANT WITH MY MUSE? // MEME.

❤️ romantic

💛 platonic

💚 rivals

💕 unrequited love 

deku vc, after iida tells him ‘i love you’: great, yeah that’s perfect! now tell the person you love that! it’ll work for sure! they’d be stupid to turn you down! 

NO, BUT, SERIOUSLY, DEEN, YEAH? TO ALL OF THIS? rivals obviously bc! that’s already been established! and hoo boy, was that a tough pill to izuku to swallow down when it happened lol, but it was a much needed reality check to his ‘it’ll be fine if i have my friends to help me!’ attitude. platonically, we need iida, ochako and deku to have a bunch of stupid, silly trio outings okay. we need to have ochako laughing so hard she spits out her drink at something iida did or said and izuku winning them carnival / festival games because he figured out how to cheat the cheating system, and iida to help the two shorties through large crowds bc he’s tol and they’re smol and deku wearing iida’s glasses while iida wears (or tries to, are they the same shoe size?) deku’s shoes OR HIS HERO HOOD AW LOL. deku n ochako cheering the class prez on!!! iida supporting deku n ochako loudly!! dkeu n ochako supporting iida in return even louder!! all three of em being stupidly loud until someone (bakugo probably) tells them to shut the fuck up!!!! HANGIN AT THE BEACH @ SUNSET, LEGS SWINGIN N EATIN ICE CREAM N HAVIN DUMB RACES OR BETS W THEIR QUIRKS !!! 

BUT ROMANTICALLY …. they work super well!!! iida is the voice of reason for deku. not just in stopping deku from doing dumb ass shit that will get his ass killed (which, thank you iida, thank you so much for protecting him and stopping him from doing something that would end Badly for him and everyone else), but also in helping deku realize things he otherwise wouldn’t. like again, at the UA festival, he opened deku’s eyes to the reality of things, that things aren’t always going to be so easy, and his friends have their own goals and aspirations, and he needs to acknowledge and respect that and take that into account. they both admire each other in equal parts, for their bravery, their goals, the inspirational figures in each others lives, and iida has been there for deku through thick and thin – just like deku has been there for iida. deku would totally consider iida the perfect cuddle / hugging buddy too and he’d ask to study with iida a lot because iida is great at keeping them both on track and they’d be able to help each other with the problems they didn’t understand, but also bc izuku has ulterior motives and is a cuddlebug.  

AND UNREQUITED LOVE! iida having feelings for deku, who is totally Oblivious to it (and maybe has a crush on ochako? or even bakugo?) and when he finds out he … turns iida down. and he’s super awkward about it. and feeling super guilty. even if iida says its okay. and he’s awkward around iida after that though he tries his best to pretend everything’s normal even though it’s not and he can’t believe iida likes him, how is that even possible? as a friend sure but romantically? why him? what was so special about him? and wanting to ask iida what he saw in him but not wanting to hurt iida by asking either or lead him on hasdknsadlkasn like that’s just rude and callous, and then he’d get to thinking about iida and how he hopes iida finds someone who can make him happy … iida’s a good guy, he’s passionate, he’s funny, he’s protective, he’s a good friend, he’s a good looking guy too and the way his face lights up when he smiles —— and then deku is just all ????? huh ???? where did that come from ???? kinda growing a little hot around the ears and then shaking the thought off (literally shaking his head, he’s so dumb, i hate him) except, except, EXCEPT!! HE KEEPS HAVING WEIRD THOUGHTS ABOUT IIDA!!! keeps talking w him and ochako and laughin n havin fun and then iida does or says something he smiles or he laughs or he adjusts his glasses or does a particularly sharp n passionate hand motion or talks about a new special move or shows it off or helps him or breathes or exists AND DEKU’S LIKE … OH MY ???G O ??? D ??? freaking out because HE LIKES IIDA …. but he waited too long and now iida doesn’t like him oh well rip deku i guess

[mi6013eliotappleby]

Second draft

Ext – Sat atop a ridgeline, three antagonists (Bill Westcott, Theodore O'Diddley and Roderick O'Diddley) look upon a lonesome bank sat in a vast dry desert. Westcott; holding a pocket watch in his hand, methodically winds it without looking.

Besides the bank is a heavily guarded wagon being opened as uniformed men transfer what appears to be strongly sealed crates, each containing large amounts of gold and bonds.

Westcott -

“Right, you boys ready?”

Theodore -

“We sure are. We've been ready for weeks.”

Roderick -

“Damn right boys. Let's make us a mint!”

Westcott -

“Slow it down there, breathe and think, cos' if this goes south...”

Westcott pauses and looks away from O'Diddleys and instead at the pocket watch in hand. In the watch is a portrait of a woman.

Westcott -

“Sigh* Well, let's not get into that...”

Theodore -

“Will you quit worrying? You're in good hands. We ever let you down before?”

Roderick -

“Yeah we's ever let you down Billy?”

Westcott -

“Well I did have to carry your ass back in Ashbuck didn't I? Or did that one slip your memory?”

Westcott glares at Roderick.

Westcott -

“And I told you... DON'T call me Billy.”

Roderick looks down at the ground sheepishly while Theodore Looks disappointingly at his brother.

Westcott -

“Right, before we do this, let's go over the plan one last time. We round up the guards, we say we're gonna shoot someone square between the eyes and then... well, people start to fall in line once they know the purely white gates are only a stones throw away. Least that way we don't have to take no lives.”

Theodore -

“What's with you and no killin'?”

Westcott looks over at Theodore.

Theodore -

“Ahh don't gimme' that look, you know what I mean, you always firin' that thing, just never at folks. If you ask me it's quicker, gets the job done and stops any potential heroes from messin' things up.”

Roderick -

“Yeah its easy, Like shooting rats for supper, nothin' wrong with a lil' killing!”

Westcott -

“I got enough on my conscience already, I don't fancy being haunted by the ghosts of folks I killed. I'm a thief boys, not a killer and I ain't starting now. We got enough ridin' on this and I am NOT, gonna' screw this up... and neither are you boys, comprende amigos?”

Theodore -

“We got a reputation to keep up with Bill. We ain't messing this up.”

Wescott notices that the wagons have finished loading their cargo.

Westcott -

“C'mon, looks like they're finishing up. Remember like clock work boys.”

Theodore -

“Like clock work.”

The trio pull up their bandannas too conceal their identities and begin to ride down the ridge line as the heavily armoured wagon finishes up.

Upon arrival, the gang circle the wagon, with the O'Diddleys firing wildly into the air. The wagon has made barely any distance between that and the Bank.

Westcott -

“Gentlemen please if you'd kindly, keep them guns holstered, stick them hands up and don't do nothin' that'll be liable to get you killed.”

Roderick in an overly excited tone laughs maniacally, enjoying the hold up far too much.

Roderick -

“Yeah! get em' up! get em' up boys!.”

Carriage Driver #1 -

“Take it easy fella's, we're cooperating, we're cooperating...”

Theodore -

“That's smart thinking right there. Just as we asked.”

Westcott leans into Theodore.

Westcott- “You good out here?”

Theodore -

“Yeah we got it Bill, you do your thing, we'll do ours. We got you covered.”

Theodore says with a smirk, and without looking at Westcott no less.

Roderick -

“Oh we gonna' livin' like kings soon enough brother!”

Theodore -

“Easy brother... in good time.”

Westcott looks taken back and slightly concerned by the brothers irregular behaviour. He dismounts his horse and makes his way into the bank slowly, gun drawn.

Interior - Small bank, clerks cowering behind counter bars between them and the bank floor, Westcott holds shotgun close range and aims eye down sights ready for anything.

Cashier #1 -

“Oh lord, oh lord, oh lord...”

Westcott -

“C'mon out gentlemen. Those boys on the wagon outside knew the routine, I expect the same from you boys. No sudden movements, no hero stuff... heh, you don't need to be reminded how this is going down. I don't wanna shoot you just as much as you don't wanna get shot. Now I want bonds, gold nickels, dimes, hell even gold teeth if you have em'; in the bag, spread evenly so ma horse and I don't fall off balance.”

Cashier #1 -

“Whatever you say sir, I ain't given no trouble!”

The clerks tentatively starts too reach below the counter, Westcott leans forward to get a better view over the counter and gives a quick whistle. The cashier looks up visibly frightened.

Westcott -

“Easy there son, open the gate and let me through before you go reachin' round places I can't see.”

Cashier #1 –

“N-no, no mister! I wasn't doin' nothing, I was just a getting the keys, see?”

The cashier jangles the keys to show he was being truthful.

Westcott -

“Well explain yourself next time boy you can't afford to make a man worry like that.”

Westcott cocks gun

Westcott -

“And I'm not one who likes to worry.”

Cashier #2 faints and hits the floor.

Westcott -

“Hahaaaa I still got it, now open up!”

Cashier #1 opens up the large iron bar door as Westcott makes his way round behind the counter, gun still pointed at cashier #1.

Westcott -

“Now move it! I ain't got all day!”

The cashier begins to unlock lots of small boxes behind him, each one containing bonds and other notes. Westcott throws down three large sacks and cashier #1 starts to place them inside.

Westcott -

“Evenly now ya hear, saves me the hassle.”

The horses can be heard outside get restless and nay loudly, muffled shouting ensues.

Westcott -

“What the hell are those boys doin'?”

Cashier #1 -

“Ain't got nothin' to do with me mister! Honest!”

Westcott -

“Pfft... I figured that much. You stay right there, I'm gonna' go take a quick peek.”

Westcott approaches the front door casually keeping an eye on cashier #1, gun still drawn.

Westcott -

“Hey what going-”

As Westcott opens the door with his shoulder, gun fire breaks out and his hat is shot off. Startled, he buckles and jumps back through the front door slamming it shut.

Westcott -

“Jesus H shit! Goddammit'! There a back door to this place?!”

Westcott runs back through the steel barred door and confronts  the Cashier.

Cashier #1 -  

“Y-y-y-yeah through here...”

Bullets crash through the windows as Westcott hits the deck and grabs the Cashier.

Westcott -

“Shit! Get down and stay down you fool!”

Both start to frantically crawl towards the back door, Westcott grabs the one sack the cashier managed to fill up. They both reach the back door as the gun fire ceases. Both get up and timidly walk toward the door. Westcott pushes past the cashier.

  Westcott -

“Hold up here! I got the gun, I reckon I oughta' go first. You got a horse or something near by?”

Cashier #1 -

“N-n-n-n-no mister I don't... I usually get a ride from the coach that comes here from town.”

Westcott -

“Well I guess today really ain't your day kid, that's what, bowt' a mile or two away?”

Cashier #1 -

“There abouts...”

Westcott -

“Ah, shit. The whole god damn town probably heard that gun show, least when them law boys turn up they'll treat you to a ride home. But I sure as hell ain't hangin'! You ready there?”

Cashier #1 -

“Ready? Ready for what?”

Westcott -

“3..2..1..”

Westcott bursts the back door open and begins to run but is instantly shot in the gut and drops back. Multiple shots are fired all missing him bar another to the leg.

Westcott -

“AGH! Goddamnit, bastards got me!”

Westcott stumbles and crumbles back inside.

Cashier #1 -

“Lord above!”

The cashier grabs hold of him and drags him over to the wall and slumps him aside.

Cashier #1 -

“Oh lord mister! That looks pretty bad, are you okay?”

Westcott –

“I'm pretty sure I took a bullet in the gut, do I look okay?!”

Cashier #1 -

Sorry mister, I just.. I never seen someone get shot before, at least not this close anyhow.”

Westcott takes his hand off of the wound and examines it.

Westcott – “Yeah definitely in the gut alright... no problem, ugh, I've had more led in me before...”

Cashier #1 -

“Who the heck was firing at us?! The sheriff can't have been here by now. You have any idea mister?”

Westcott takes down his Balaclava and feels for his pistol.

Westcott -

“...I got a hunch, but don't take my word for it, not yet... call me Bill by the way... I think with the current situation I oughta' properly introduce myself...”

At this point there's a sudden slow knock at the front door.

Stranger #1 -

“Little pigs, little pigs, let me in!”

Stranger #2 -

“Hahahaha! we got em' now, we gonna gut you like a piggy too!”

Westcott recognises the voices outside.

Westcott -

“...sigh* I thought as much...”

Westcott reaches into his satchel, a sound of something being tinkered with can be heard. Westcott then hands the satchel over to the Cashier; with the item in question still conceled within.

Westcott -

“Here, put this in the biggest bag of loot you filled... and, and bring it round in front of me.”

The cashier looks at the front and back doors frantically without fulfilling Westcotts request.

Westcott -

“Look... I know you wanna make a break for it kid. But do this one thing for me...”

The cashier looks uncertain on what to do. Theodore shouts from outside.

Theodore -

“Bill! Bill! You in there? Rody here says he got a couple shots on ya! That true?”

Westcott -

“You kiddin' me!? That dipshit couldn't hit a mountain!”

Roderick -

“Shut it Billy! You know I got you good!”

The cashier looks at Westcott.

Westcott -

“This ain't about the money kid.”

Cashier #1 -

“Alright mister, alright...”

The cashier does as instructed by Westcott.

Theodore -

“Right! We're comin' in Westcott! Ready or not!”

Westcott -

“Go out the back, it should be clear...”

The cashier runs out back in a moments notice; just as the O'Diddleys break through the front doors. Theodore strolls over to Westcott gun in hand, taking note of Westcotts wounds.

Theodore -

“So he didn't get a shot on you huh? How'd you get in that there state then? You trip 'n' fall over?”

Roderick follows closely behind and sniggers at Theos comment.

Roderick -

“You sure I didn't get ya Billy?”

Westcott -

“You a real funny pair, should've known better than trusting a couple of inbred moonshiners...”

Roderick -

“Hey! Who you callin' inbred?!”

Theodore turns to Roderick and point at the door.

Theodore -

“Get back to watching that front door! Keep and eye out for the law will ya?!”

Roderick -

“Ugh... fine, fine!”

Roderick storms back off towards the front door.

Theodore -

“Ain't no need getting riled up lil' Billy. All you got there is a flesh wound after all. But less you start, ugh... cooperating, that there nip gonna' be a real problem in a short while.”

Westcott -

“Alright Theo, then what the hell do you suppose I'd do about it?”

Theodore -

“Well me and my brother here. We ain't trained to be no doctors...”

Westcott -

“I gathered you and your brother ain't qualified professionals, don't think I've ever heard about any inbred hicks becoming doctors...”

Theodore crouches and point the gun barrel right at Westcotts forehead.

Theodore -

“Now ya know I don't like your sarcasm don't ya Billy? An' I sure as shit ain't liking being called no inbred neither. I might not be as “sophisticated” at you Billy, but brains do no good trying to dodge a bullet, am I right?”

Westcott looks Theo dead in the eye and gives a minor smirk.

Westcott -

“That was a mighty big word of you to say Theo... sophisticated... nice going.”

Frustrated, Theo stands back up and kicks Westcott in the head, knocking him down to the floor completely. Roderick pears back through the front door at all the commotion.

Theodore -

“This business don't get old does it?”

Westcott spits blood on the floor and glares back up at Theo.

Theodore -

“Now it won't be long til' that Sheriff Myers catches wind of this. He's a real mean son' bitch; has a might big temper on him if I recall. Ain't no man wanna' be stirring up a fus round' him.”

Westcott lifts himself up slightly, Theo takes a couple steps back gun still drawn.

Westcott -

“So that'

s it then?! You leaving me here for the wolves? Letting them do your dirty work?! You god forsaken chicken shit!”

Theodore -

“As I was sayin' before! If you play nice and sit there quiet an' all, holding that there wound... I'm sure the locals back in town'll patch you up nicely.”

Roderick shouts over from the door and intervenes in the conversation, laughing away.

Roderick -

“Yeah before hangin' ya!”

Theodore -

“Rody! Keep an eye out will ya? I told you already!”

Roderick comes back into the bank.

Roderick -

“Can't see nothin' for miles T! Law won't be here for another time yet!”

Theodore -

“Well... I guess we should take our leave then while we got the time. Start grabbin' the bags Rod.”

Roderick grabs the suspicious bag from in front of Westcott.

Westcott -

“The halfwit O'Diddleys ride again huh?”

Theodore -

“Least we got plentiful journeys ahead of us Bill.”