#i love dustan

[questersrest]

one ancient dwarven automaton turned to a pile of junk and second minor key emblem acquired

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Winter's King 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, cheating, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You are a maid to the Duke of Debray, a lord of the Summer Kingdom. That is, until the king of Winter appears with his particular air of coldness. (Medieval AU)

Characters: Geralt of Rivia

Note: this one came out of no where.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven���t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

It’s uncharacteristically grim on the plains of Debray. Rains pelt the tall green grasses, flattening them in a slanted downpour that dims the horizon. Clouds blot out the daylight and lend to atmosphere of unease in the warring lands. 

Behind the castle walls, one can forget about the bloodshed staining the counties red, though it is all the dukes and his audience can speak of. The lords that bluster through those gates, sometimes at the toll of morning, some in the black swathes of night. You can’t count them all, you can name even fewer, but they come anon and leave just as brusquely. 

A peel of thunder shakes the land and a dark line limns the curve of the horizon. What appears first as a storm cloud advances quickly through the fields, appearing more clearly to the naked eye, distant nonetheless. Men. Another party fast on the approach. 

The alarm goes up at a man’s holler. Ethred, man at the gate hollers to the other men in mail. Niam peers out from the vantage of the tower and calls back down. A hush falls and bodies scurry all around, metal clinking and boots crunching. There’s something amiss. Something you can’t quite place. 

You turn away from the window, the steam rising from the basin in your hand swirling around your head. You carry on down the corridor, wool skirts around cautious steps as you balance the swaying water in the vessel. You approach the lady’s door and give it a rap with your knee. Merinda, another handmaid, opens it from within. 

You enter without a word and place the basin on the vanity table. The duke’s daughter preens herself with a painted fan, fluttering her lashes at her reflection as her curls spill down her long back. She tilts her head this way and that. She snaps the fan shut and puts it down, touching her soft brown cheeks with a devilish grin. 

“Do you know what father mentioned last eve?” Jazlene asks with a vain flutter of her lashes. 

“What did he mention?” Her mother, Lady Rezlyn prompts lazily as she plucks another cherry from a dish heaped in fruit. 

“A husband,” the daughter grins coyly at herself, “it is well due, isn’t it, mother? Who do you think it might be? Lord Gai, perhaps? He is young still.” 

“Perhaps the Earl of Mesafin,” her mother taunts back to a disgusted gasp. 

“Do not,” Jazlene pouts, “I could never... I am much too pretty for that haggard beast.” 

“Well, then, who might you have, precious?” Rezlyn goads. 

There is a clamour in the hall that keeps the younger of the woman from answering. She rolls her eyes and darkly glare at the door. You peer back behind your shoulder as a wail goes up carrying her father’s name; ‘Lord Dustan!’ 

“What is all that?” Jazlene whines, “as if it isn’t enough with the rain and the winds. It is summer!” 

“It’s always summer in Debray, darling,” Rezlyn scoffs, “otherwise I’d have never married your father. Pray you don’t hook yourself a winter lord.” 

You peek over your shoulder as you stand near the door, in your vigil, awaiting your next order. You face the ladies again as the elder continues to feast and the younger fusses over her thick brows. You scrunch your lips back and forth, a habit that often has your jaw aching. 

Jazlene turns to narrow her eyes at you, “what is it then? What has you making faces?” 

You bow your head, appeasing her ego, “my lady, there were men coming. A party approaching from the north.” 

“There are always men,” she shakes her head, “who was it then? Anyone I should wear silk for?” 

Her mother laughs, “I warn you, daughter, that trite tongue will not endear any husband.” 

“I do not know, lady,” you answer. 

“Ugh, useless, must I work as my own handmaid?” Jazlene tisks, “come, pin my hair. Merinda find me a gown. Mother... wipe the dribble from your chin.” 

“Eh, watch yourself,” Lady Rezlyn rises and wipes her lips with her sleeve. She wears muslin in a dark shade of burgundy, embroidered with little copper finches. “Or hope you marry above me before you lash that tongue at me.” 

Jazlene merely trills with laughter. You take the pins and work at twisting her fine curls into place. Merinda brings to her a dress of teal satin and is promptly shooed away, “something pink. It brings out my bosom.” 

You ignore her bawdy jest as her mother harrumphs. You work in quiet tandem with the other handmaid. You add a touch of paint to the lady’s cheeks and kohl around her eyes. You tint her lips with pigment and she pushes out her lips at the mirror. You help Merinda dress her, pulling the noble daughter’s corset tight enough to leave her lightheaded. 

The pair of ladies, elder and younger, leave the chamber with you at their skirt tails. They sweep through the corridors with chins up. They are queens in their own minds. Their fine dresses and sparkling gems are untouched by the disparity of war. The lives lost are squares on a game board, tawdry talk for men in their studies. 

“Lord Dustan,” Lady Rezlyn mimics the earlier call for the lord of the castle, “my husband. Dear, dear husband!” 

The women go to the banister and look down upon the great hall as the flurry continues below. You and Merinda loom behind, not daring to stand at a level with the pompous nobles. You have never volunteered yourself for their impetuous lashings. 

“Woman!” Dustan booms back up, “do not trouble me now.” 

“Oh, has another lord come? Perhaps a suitor for our lovely daughter--” 

“Cease!” The duke demands hotly, “now is not the time for womanly games.” 

“Tell me it true, husband, she will be an old maid before you find a suiting son-in-law--” 

“Go away to your chambers. Now. The men who come are not to be trifled with and you lot do trifle overly much!” 

“Bah! Oh do not be so uncouth!” Rezlyn decries. 

“Father, please, is it a husband?” 

“Go before I send my guards up to put you away like thieves in a dungeon. Hear me when I warn you that this does not concern you. Not as yet,” Dustan snarls, “you would spoil this war with your puny concerns.” 

“Ugh,” his wife puts her hand to her forehead, “he does tax me. All I ask of him is to take care of us, daughter. As any husband should.” 

“I should have your lips sewn shut!” Dustan rebukes hotly, “be gone before I find a tailor.” 

The women share an aghast look. The turn back to flutter away in their skirts. You and Merinda follow them to the drawing room, closing them in as they fall onto the velvet cushions. Jazlene reclines dramatically on the chaise as her mouth mopes on a sofa. 

“Shall I be alone forever, mother?” Jazlene snivels, “why won’t he let me marry?” 

“He only wants to find the right man, that is all, darling,” Rezlyn coaxes. “He is overprotective and that is good for it means he will find a husband for you with a similar bearing.” 

“Such sweet words cannot convince me. He punishes me. When all my lady friends have wed and borne a whelp or two, I remain with the dust and stone.” 

“Do not be theatrical,” Rezlyn girds, “you are silly.” 

“I am not silly, mother. I am afraid. I am twenty and three and I have no suitor. I have only a war butchering any man who might have my hand. Why must this go on? Why must I suffer for the gripes of stubborn kings.” 

“We cannot fear. This war will be won and you will have a knight for a husband. Isn’t that better? To have a warrior you can be proud of than some bookish lord in his tower?” Rezlyn stands and moves to sit with her daughter, petting her as she cooes, “oh my beautiful, no man can resist you. You will see.” 

⚔️

Some hours pass with the restless women, pacing and chattering, about careless things beyond marriage and war. Like needlework and a banquet that should be had upon the truce. Would that the day would come sooner. 

You and Merinda stifle yawns that pass between you. The act is contagious as you stand in the tedium of the wealthy and wait for a duty to be called upon you. The hours you spend watching the women preen and swoon make you envy the stable boys and the shit shovelers. 

The noise beyond those walls continues. You heard the moat open and the clopping hooves of horses, even the clatter of carts. The voices had since hushed but footfalls carried back and forth. The wordless activity betrays an air of impatience, almost of nervousness. As the ladies within mirror the sentiment. 

Finally, as the windows darken and the candles burn brighter, a knock shakes the door. The ladies snap their heads around. Merinda is asleep on her feet as you move first. You open to a man in grey and black waits on the other side. He is not Lord Dustan’s. 

“The duchess and her daughter,” he garbles through a mouth that sounds full of salt. 

You dip your head and look to the ladies in question. There is a tension, of unease, of unknowing, of excitement turned to dread. This is not as it has been. There is not call to the dinner table. There is no buoyant introduction of a lord Dustan met as a young scamp. There is silence and fear. Has someone died? Has a battle been lost? 

The women emerge and greet the man with niceties and tight-lipped simpers. He does not pay them heed as you and Merinda exchange looks. You trail after the ladies but the man stops. He turns back, a hand on the pommel at his waist, and sneers, a furrow in his brow. 

“One of ya,” he grits. 

Jazlene says your name. She must’ve noticed Merinda swaying on her feet. If she even cares so much about a maid. You keep your head down and follow as they press on. Down the corridor and around the duke’s study, recently deemed his war room. You’ve never been within. It is not the domain of women. 

The grey and black soldier thumps on the door. Mother and daughter clasp hands. Even they can sense the unusual frigidity. The door opens from within. It is Lord Dustan. He wears a serious look on his lined face. The ladies are beckoned in and the soldier nudges you after them as you hesitate. 

Lanterns light the space from the desk at the rear of the chamber. The large table draped in maps, wooden horses, and little wooden pucks stands central on a thick rug. A figure stands behind it, head down as his burly and broad silhouette seems to sop up the shadows. 

The ladies follow the duke to stand across from the man. His head is down as he slides a horse along a road on the map. He stops it and grips it tight. He looks up and the lantern light dances on his features. You suck in a breath, as the rest do, stunned by his appearance. 

His hair is white, his eyes are a goldish yellow, pupils deep pools of black, and his square jaw is just as thick as the rest of him. You have never seen a man like him before, but you have heard of one. Of him. King Geralt of Rivia. 

You stand in similar confusion to the ladies. Their silent confoundment is broken by Duke Dustan as he nears the table. He sniffs and presses his fingers to the table top. 

“Your highness, my wife, Lady Rezlyn, and my daughter, Lady Jazlene,” he introduces. 

The women glance at each other then curtsy to the white king. He watches them dully. You fold your hands, taking it in curiously. It is rather something to witness the scene. You are so unimportant as to not be a part of it. 

“Your highness,” the recite, “it is...” 

“An honour,” Dustan finishes for them, “of course it is. We fondly welcome you and your allyship. We hope that we will be essential in ending this war. In helping you attain the peace you have so valiantly fought for--” 

The king raises his hand to silence the lord. You can’t help but quork your head. Allyship? But King Geralt, he is of Rivia, he is of the hinterland, he is the one who invaded the summer country and bid it his own. He is the foe. That is what they told you. 

“Enough...” the king speaks in a silty tone that scrapes in his throat. His eyes wander over the women and narrow. You wince as your own meet his golden irises and you shy away, putting your chin to your chest. That’s a mistake. “...words.” He slaps his hand down, “you do not win wars with words.” 

“Yes, your highness, you are correct. I know it well. It is why I invited you here. It is the very reason I made my entreaty. You have my men, they will win this war for you.” 

The king is hardly impressed by the fact. He looks back to the table and moves the horse further before turning it back. He knocks it over and stands completely straight. 

“And the daughter of Debray, your highness. To have a wife of summer’s blood, men will bend the knee. If you show them you do not mean to eradicate but to join with them,” Dustan moves to stand closer to his daughter, “isn’t she a fine queen for a fine kingdom?” 

Jazlene swoons and falls against her father. She’s fainted. Rezlyn grabs onto her other shoulder and you peek up at the chaotic scene. You come forward to help, snatching a pillow from the single couch, and you place it under Jazlene’s head as they lay her down on the floor. 

A shadow shifts as Dustan and Rezlyn fuss over their daughter, fanning and calling to her. You look up as darkness clusters over you. You see the king staring down at the scene. No, not them. He staring at you. Before he can reprimand you, you put your head down. 

You must quit that lest you find yourself at the wrong end of a switch. 

[noihavenosanitythanksforasking]

OKAY I COULD BE REACHING HERE BUT

im sure u remember this iconic scene from st3

so in this scene lucas is drinking a new coke and he gets in an argument with mike about it.

this scenes blocking groups all our couples together as has been pointed out over and over. lumax, jancy and byler with el on her own.

now the first thing i thought was interesting about this scene is will expression. he glances at mike as soon as the shot cuts to them and before mike asks him how he can drink it.

throughout the scene will doesnt really say anything but he looks a bit amused and almost excited? which is like fine his friends are having a dumb argument and its funny

however i am a byler and i read into everything so

lucas is in a happy heterosexual relationship. hes straight. he enjoys new coke. he likes women. mike does not like new coke. mike does not like women.

now theres two different way i read this scene.

the first being

in lucas' explanation he describes the old coke as

"the original is a classic. no question about it. but the remake-" *takes a long sip* "sweeter, bolder, better"

originally it was just the party. mike will dustan and lucas. the og party was a classic. it was great. but now lucas is with max. which is even better because he is in love with max.

mike immediately calls lucas insane. he cannot understand how being with a girl could be so great, he doesn't understand the appeal.

"so you prefer the original thing?"

"what, no. im not talking about the thing. im talking about new coke."

mike gets defensive. mike ALSO has a girlfriend whom he should be in love with. lucas is calling him out. what do you mean you dont understand micheal?? mike redirects this to talking specifically about max, who he has expressed distaste for in the past. deflecting the topic

"its the same concept dude"

okay well theyre both our gfs

"actually its not the same concept"

your relationship with max is nothing like my relationship

they go back and forth until el interrupts them and they both apologize

the second why i could see this scene is lucas is talking directly about will and el.

will is the original. he was mikes favorite person. his go to. but now theres el. sweeter, bolder, "better". but mike doesnt want the the new version. he likes the old one. theres nothing wrong with the old version.

"its the same concept"

"no, its not the same concept."

the way mike feels for el and will are very different. even though el is "better" he wants will. he is in turmoil about this.

then el interrupts and shuts down the train of thought. effectively pulling mike out of his thoughts of will and shoving him back into his closet.

tell me you see the vision and im not insane

[jobrker]

small canonical details in sweeney todd:

i've been obsessed with this musical for far too long. i will likely be making a second post. enjoy.

lucy could have married up. whether this is due to her family being better off than benjamin or just because she was beautiful, the line in poor thing, "had her chance for the moon on a string" implies that she could have married better than she had. someone who could "afford" to buy her the moon.

lovett's first name is nellie. this comes from a line of dialogue before not while i'm around where she says, "sit here by your aunt nellie like a good boy and look at your lovely muffler."

lovett has an aunt named nettie. nettie lived near the sea and lovett would visit her as a child, explaining her desire to move there. we do not know if aunt nettie is still alive or not.

mr. lovett's first name was albert. he developed gout and possibly passed away due to complications with it.

toby is implied to be an alcoholic. he grew up in a workhouse and he claims that is what they gave to the children.

catholicism was extremely controversial in england during the victorian era. it was just becoming legal in the 1840s. so the fact that pirelli mentions shaving the pope probably isn't very impressive to the crowd of londoners. pirelli, being irish, was probably catholic himself which explains why he brags about it.

during the competition scene between todd and pirelli in the 1970 bond play, todd uses anthony during the tooth-pulling segment and yanks out one of his molars. anthony immediately forgives him, being the good boy he is.

pirelli sees a tailor. this may imply that he makes enough swindling people into buying his elixir that he can afford such an expense whereas a lot of people of his background likely couldn't.

saint dustan's church is what's actually at the address of 186 fleet street. in a string of pearls, the tunnels underneath are used. this explains the bells we hear throughout the show, before not while i'm around and johanna (quartet) and this is the church anthony plans on bringing johanna to in order to marry her.

johanna was a year old when benjamin was sent away.

turpin works at the old bailey. this courthouse has since been destroyed (due to a fire). the "old bailey" was actually a nickname for it because of it the street it was on. it was actually called the central criminal court. it was renamed in 1834. todd was in australia by that point so he likely doesn't know the new name.

lucy sewed, as most victorian women/housewives did.

anthony is from plymouth, a (then) fishing town in south-eastern england.

lovett is uneasy at the idea of discussing what goes on in asylums when todd and anthony begin forming a plan to get johanna back. potentially, this has to do with lucy and knowing her fate.

lovett mentions visiting aunt nettie and the seaside during the august bank holiday. however, this bank holiday wasn't established until 1871. sweeney todd takes place in 1846.

despite knowing that lucy had been prostituting herself, todd still calls her virtuous in his last moments.

todd has some knowledge of engineering and construction since he was able to turn his barber chair from just a chair to one that connects to a chute and can send customers to the bakehouse. he would have to make that chute himself. he possibly learned this from his time in australia.

lovett adopts a few birds between act one and two. they are in a cage outside of the pie shop for customers to enjoy. she also has a garden out there.

act one takes place in august.

[citationsavenue]

Sh*t, hindi naman ako tanga. This was truly the love that I had not even thought I'd feel. The kind that I knew would make me finally be truly happy and really afraid at the same time. Oh my f*cking god, I was in love with Dustan. I was in love with the hudas na super vain.

Thespian Tragedy (Wonderland, #2) by Selina Matias

[dstrachan]

'VIEWS FROM THE EDGE' - w/c 8th July 2024

Captain Sensible ‘Glad It’s All Over’

Joy Division ‘New Dawn Fades’

Fat Les ‘Jerusalem’

Heart ‘Voodoo Doll’

The Jam ‘News Of The World’

Propaganda ‘Duel’

Fall On Your Sword ‘Gunship Video’

Pitbull feat. Jennifer Lopez & Claudia Leitte ‘We Are One (Ole Ola) [The Official 2014 FIFA World Cup Song]’

Bob Dylan ‘Turkey Chase’

Best Themes Collection ‘Super Mario Bros Theme’

Chumbawumba ‘Tubthumping’

I, Doris feat. Dustan Bruce ‘Not Done Yet’

Heather Peace ‘Fight For (Jack Guy Remix)’

Beau ‘Fight For The Right’

Cheryl Cole ‘Fight For This Love (Crazy Cousinz radio edit)’

K’Sandra ‘Come Up Fighting (feat. Durga McBroom)’

Nervous Twitch ‘Another Fight’

The Rolling Stones ‘Street Fighting Man (live, Get Yer Ya Yas Out)’

Elton John ‘Saturday Night’s Alright For Fighting’

Bullet Height ‘Fight Song’

Kala Chng ‘Fighter (Dr. Moody remix)’

Christina Aguilera ‘Fighter’

Todd Rundgren ‘Zen Archer’

Billy Connolly ‘Cripple Creek’

Billy Connolly ‘Talkin’ Blues’

Erin Bennett ‘Never Give Up The Fight’

Delivery ‘Fighting It Out’

Disturbed ‘A Reason To Fight’

[wutbju]

This is just a scream. Look at what I said (I'll bold it) and what got *ME* put in time out. Me.

BJU hates women who act. Hates.

John Stephenson ​​when u stack the board, it’s easy

Daniel Malabanti ​​yooo whos clay dawg

Kamalei Goff ​​We need the chat for any function at FMA for now on

Chris Meaders ​​TRUMP

Daniel Malabanti ​​CLAYTON!!

Clay Dawg ​​Clayton James

Bigcat23 ​​He is not conservative enough

Wesley Boudreau ​​joe mama

All Gems ​​Tolla LOLOL

Clay Dawg ​​BANTIIIII

Holly Shiveley ​​He's trying to give us background for the process which I think is important for us to understand.

Wesley-76 ​​Oh no more steps

CrazyAsianAirsoft ​​A board of people who were against moving the school to a post 1999 era. Great.

Johnny Pierre ​​I second Clayton James

Clay Dawg ​​❤

Natetastic ​​its either crockett or the other guy

Daniel Malabanti ​​I second Clayton as well

Camille Lewis ​​MOAR STEPS

Josh Watts Music ​​I'm glad he's keeping this from being too hype

Clay Dawg ​​let's gooo

Clay Dawg ​​Johnny!

Steve Von Bokern ​​Makenzie, now we are on steps.

Satyr_Legz ​​i hate to be impatient but just get to the point pleaseeeeeeeeeeee

Mackenzie Mohnacky ​​Yeah, knowing the process is important

CrazyAsianAirsoft ​​I’ve seen faster moving icebergs than this guy

Chris Meaders ​​The votes are still coming in

achy228 ​​lol 2 hr meetings….its not looking good for us on brevity of this speech

Eric Dickinson ​​please be jurgen

Charlie Eldred ​​Points, steps, bowls, vials, trumpets …

Mark Bonikowsky ​​#fekirin

Matthew Smith ​​Certified yapper

Jessica Nowachek ​​Politicians 🙄

Sydney Patton ​​Who’s counting the votes

Clay Dawg ​​my president is Johnny Pierre 🤚

Charlie Eldred ​​The effective speaker …

Daniel Malabanti ​​aye it's Ginger!

Chris Meaders ​​ACG

Clay Dawg ​​Matthew?!?

Wesley Boudreau ​​at least we know its a him…

Bigcat23 ​​5 years??

Eric Dickinson ​​hand-pink-waving

Sven Loeffler ​​weathers

Natetastic ​​5 YEARS??

Clay Dawg ​​dats my roommate!!

achy228 ​​Oh good grief

CrazyAsianAirsoft ​​With this build up, it better be John the Baptist himself

Mackenzie Mohnacky ​​This is like announcing who won the week competition at The Wilds

Bigcat23 ​​Gotta be benson

Timothy Kain ​​I would love for them recant and re-install Steve Pettit.

Steve Von Bokern ​​ha

Bigcat23 ​​They wont put a new guy for 5 years

Josh Watts Music ​​It's Pedro Pascal

achy228 ​​Plot twist - it’s actually him

Efan ​​Steve Pettit has the most aura

Holly Shiveley ​​I think this is to strengthen our support and trust. Just listen people

Anthony Lehn ​​Still wild that Pettit wasn't conservative enough smh

Tyler Greenly ​​Go bruins!!

CrazyAsianAirsoft ​​Get on with it already

Steven Hudson ​​“The board elected me”

Timothy Kain ​​So it is a HIM!

Johnny Pierre ​​bro, he's definitely reading this chat while speaking and purposely prolonging this 😂😂

Satyr_Legz ​​ITS TIME???

Natetastic ​​McAllister?

Charlie Eldred ​​Sam Horn?

Chris Meaders ​​Jennifer, its the guy you know

achy228 ​​It’s been 84 years

Steven Hudson ​​Dr Minnick

Larsens ​​A pastor

CrazyAsianAirsoft ​​text-green-game-over

Andrew Lawson ​​hoping the best for BJU

Paul Rebert ​​Crokett!!

Toby Jorgensen ​​Crockett

Eric Dickinson ​​🤣

Efan ​​Steve Pettit has maximum aura

Sven Loeffler ​​its crocket

Redneck rascals ​​If its 5 years its Bensen

Tolla ​​L

Satyr_Legz ​​indiana??

Camille Lewis ​​Yeah, it sounds like Crockett.

Stephen Washer ​​Crocket fs

Rebecca Bate ​​Crockett

Paul Rebert ​​Crockett pastored in IN

achy228 ​​Indiana Jones?

Jahn Mark ​​better not be Crockett

Bill Alger ​​A Hoosier? Let's gooooooooo

Eric Dickinson ​​chelsea fc. giving longer contract than needed

Tolla ​​Who

Johnny Pierre ​​oh, he's from the Midwest….

Tolla ​​Asked

Camille Lewis ​​So Bob 3 didn't get his wish.

Bigcat23 ​​Joshua crocket

Dustan Chevalier ​​Whoa. Crocket.

Efan ​​I know about the secret tunnels under Bob Jones

Peter Cartwright ​​we want Benson

Bigcat23 ​​He said it

Beyheena Eliacin ​​😳

Camille Lewis ​​Wow,

Chris Meaders ​​….

Josh Watts Music ​​Let's go Joshes!

Jahn Mark ​​dang

Prince Juliegh Sarnicula ​​whoa

Jack H. ​​ain't no way

Katie Tucker ​​PASTOR CROCKETT

Efan ​​Crocket has no aura big dawg

Eric Dickinson ​​huge if true

Fellowship Baptist Church ​​Congratulations brother Crockett

Katie Tucker ​​YES

Natetastic ​​Crockett???

Mackenzie Mohnacky ​​WHOA!

Jahn Mark ​​rip

Bill Alger ​​mind=blown

Mystic ​​oh its that guy

CrazyAsianAirsoft ​​At least it was someone under the age of 1000

Andrew Lawson ​​woohoo!

Dolly McCabe ​​Wisconsin

Jack H. ​​nepotism at it's finest

Daniel Malabanti ​​yoooo

Lisa Weddle ​​Awesome!

Tolla ​​I give the school 5 years max . . .

Mystic ​​wait nvm i dont think ive seen this guy before

Mackenzie Mohnacky ​​Didn't even know he was running

Timothy Kain ​​Shazam

CrazyAsianAirsoft ​​Aight im out

Mackenzie Mohnacky ​​He's my pastor at Morningside

Tolla ​​L

Wesley Boudreau ​​I don't even know him

Wesley-76 ​​Wait, it it bad I don't know who this is?

Jack H. ​​booooo

Mystic ​​i havent seen him before either

Jahn Mark ​​I've heard him preach, this could get rough fast

meli08chan ​​when did he graduate?

Natetastic ​​what a twist

Jack H. ​​drake or kendrick?

Adrian Stargazer ​​wait a minute, this isn't metal gear

Jack H. ​​that is NOT solid snake

April Treas ​​kendrick fs

Timothy Kain ​​Is this the CROCKET from CROCKETDOODLEs?

Brendan Warren ​​great pick

pcviewer1 ​​Steve Pettit told the board he would leave if they didn't stop doing stuff behind his back.

Adrian Stargazer ​​hey dudes, the university is pretty chill, maybe you should like, join it or something

Mackenzie Mohnacky ​​It's his brother

pcviewer1 ​​So Steve Pettit probably wont be back because of that

Wesley Boudreau ​​im in the university

Bill Alger ​​o7

Brendan Warren ​​Josh is a great guy

Jack H. ​​nepo

Sven Loeffler ​​no this is the younger brother

Tolla ​​Heresy alert on the daily

Paul Rebert ​​PTL, Josh is a great decision!

Bigcat23 ​​Wesley nobody cares

Sven Loeffler ​​He was the pastor of Morningside baptist

Timothy Kain ​​TY

Matt Black ​​My kids (BJU students or graduates) love him. Praise God.

Wesley Boudreau ​​i do

Efan ​​Wesley consider yourself an opp

Wesley-76 ​​He sounds like a great guy. If he won by this much, he's probably going to be good. I'm looking forward to hearing him this Fall!

Jack H. ​​new rap beef

Bigcat23 ​​Wesley shut up

Matt Black ​​I appreciate that he's young. He's a reasonable and godly man.

Eric Dickinson ​​the hat man got 2 stars in cwl

Jack H. ​​that hairline…

Timothy Kain ​​Seems like a wonderful choice. May GOD guide him and his decisions.

Luke Griffith ​​Crockett doodles

Timothy Kain ​​Sense of humor….check

Bigcat23 ​​Why the 5 years tho?

James Bussard ​​A pastor should not be allowed to be the President of a college. Either the church will suffer, or the college will. Or both. This is pure ambition, and poor discernment.

Jessica Nowachek ​​He seemed like a good pastor when I visited morningside.

Jack H. ​​no shot triple sticks didn't have a say in this

Bigcat23 ​​What if he mess this thing more than it is already

Josh Watts Music ​​Bussard I'm afraid I have to agree

Bigcat23 ​​Would he still be a pastor though?

Holly Shiveley ​​He was a student when I was a grad student teaching speech. His name sounded familiar. It's possible I taught him😄

Josh Watts Music ​​good question

John Juan ​​@James Bussard - I'm 99% sure he will no longer pastor Morningside Baptist.

Anthony Lehn ​​Triple sticks ftw

Timothy Kain ​​A coach needs time to build. It Should keep pharisaical thugs at bay for awhile.

Eric Dickinson ​​hat man was supposed to go for 4 but went for 1 and got 2 stars.

Mackenzie Mohnacky ​​I believe that he will do a great job. He's been my pastor for the last three years, and I believe that God is going to do great things through him.

Sven Loeffler ​​the prez is to by ordained

Tobe Witmer ​​Josh C. is a good compromise. Good guy Academic.

Jack H. ​​this look like the battle pass

Jonathan Washburn ​​Bragging about getting all of your degrees from one school isn't the W he thinks it is.

Timothy Kain ​​Great connections to money and sustenance.

Tobe Witmer ​​Not All his degrees. “Most”

Anthony Lehn ​​Well, it's a couple more degrees than you have Jonathan Washburn

Camille Lewis ​​The students are not going to be won with this.

Bill Alger ​​this could have been an email, but I'm glad it wasn't.

Timothy Kain ​​Well I'm off to collect my winnings. 😂

James Bussard ​​If he does abandon the pastorate (and the people of Morningside), did God suddenly change His mind about the man's "calling"? God doesn't do that. Not this way. Again…smacks of ambition and flesh.

Tobe Witmer ​​Wrong Camille. As normal

Wesley Boudreau ​​well it must be Gods will because nothing happens that isn't

Sven Loeffler ​​true

Mackenzie Mohnacky ​​Amen, Wesley

Jack H. ​​15th professor is a goober

Andrew Black ​​Proverbs 10:19 " In the multitude of words there wanteth not sin: but he that refraineth his lips is wise."

Camille Lewis ​​You like this, Matt? really?

Jonathan Washburn ​​Josh and his brother were decent hoopers in high school. I'll never forget watching Eric Newton drop like 50+ in the state semifinal in a raucous crowd against the best team in the state.

Camille Lewis ​​And how do I become your fixation even here?

Michael Ball ​​Who is the new president?

Aurum ​​wish Camille could be blocked from this

Camille Lewis ​​Bless you all.

Jack H. ​​fake news huh? ok goober

Camille Lewis ​​This is not a good acceptance speech, friends.

The15thProfessor ​​yeah fake news

Jack H. ​​15th i'm in your walls

The15thProfessor ​​Now I know who you are

Jack H. ​​do you now

CurlyFries ​​‍

Charlie Eldred ​​Text is on unity; chat dissolves into anything but

Cor Frost ​​Caleb its not fake lol

Jonathan Washburn ​​Is that you Jack Hyles?

D.o.G. ​​Man, I hope I'm dead meat if this is as good as it gets. sorry I am well below my standards

Camille Lewis ​​Who remembers the stuffed bear in his Dad's living room? It was a scream. [This is what got me put in timeout? A taxidermy memory?]

Adrian Stargazer ​​guys, stop arguing in the presidential announcement

Matthew Leys ​​Praying for a strong future for BJU and that God would put to silence the scorners.

Jonathan Washburn ​​Josh's younger brother Luke is among the kindest people I've ever met. He also scored the game winning goal against us in the 2003 State Semi-final and it still hurts.

Tobe Witmer ​​Pettit! Way to go Josh!

Cor Frost ​​rip

Anthony Lehn ​​Thanks for the history lesson Jonathan Washburn smh

Isaac Balardelle ​​chat is this real

Wesley Boudreau ​​no

Jack H. ​​15th i'm right behind you

Eric Dickinson ​​beta gamma won 7 turkey bowls in a row

Jonathan Washburn ​​@Anthony Lehn Sigma 72, Beta 70

Stephen Burch ​​Praying for BJU and President Crockett!

Ben Waters ​​Chi Delta 4Ever!

Jonathan Washburn ​​Stay classy Chi Delt! @Ben Waters

Eric Dickinson ​​wil the new president take care of the turkey bowl alpha won with an ineligible player. the last president refused to comment

Camille Lewis ​​This is gonna be a rough transition. [I couldn't post this because I was in timeout.]

Wesley Boudreau ​​XEΔ

Aurum ​​bruh

Jacob Vanaman ​​@Jonathan Washburn - that one win was a claim to fame for the Sigma Spartans…but after a while that trophy got heavy.

Anthony Lehn ​​1 loss in basketball in four year

PofE Plays ​​wesley imagine being a wolf smh my head

Jacob Vanaman ​​@Anthony Lehn - wins fa' dayz

Quin Machado ​​why wasnt the turkey bowl fiasco of 2023 the number one concern addressed?

Jack H. ​​15th you have no idea who I am but I know everything about you

Anthony Lehn ​​Hey coach @Jacob Vanaman !

Bigcat23 ​​Wolves are among the weirdest people on campus

PofE Plays ​​lol thats what 15th hates more than anything

Wesley Boudreau ​​@Bigcat23 no you

The15thProfessor ​​why do i have such a reputation

Jacob Vanaman ​​@Anthony Lehn - good to hear from you buddy!

PofE Plays ​​100 bigcat

James Bussard ​​I investigated Morningside for my daughter to attend while at BJU. It falls short in many ways, when compared against Scripture. Sadly, plastic Christianity may continue to abound at BJU.

Efan ​​Bob jones lost so much aura

Kamalei Goff ​​chat, is this real?

PofE Plays ​​ok camille alt

Bigcat23 ​​Wesley Boudreau is among the weirdest guys on campus, playing Minecraft all the time

Anthony Lehn ​​Can't help but inch closer to the door

[queenscharacters]

"It's the only picture I have of myself from when I was little..." Farrah to Dustan

“You’re so stinking cute.” Dustan murmured, pressing a kiss to his girlfriend’s temple. If he had known she had been in the middle of a moment of reminiscing, he probably wouldn’t have crept up on her like he did. It was too late, though. His chin had been on her shoulder, eyes on the photo, as soon as he wrapped his arms around Farrah’s waist. He could only see the side of her face; and he wasn’t trying to be too obvious about gauging her reaction.

He knew her past was a delicate subject. Dustan wasn’t trying to make light of that. As much as he would do anything in his power to change things for her, he also realized that without all that crap, he might not have met her how and when he did. They might never be expecting their girl; he might never know what true love felt like. He want being dramatic, either. This pregnancy was expediting things, but Dustan knew that she was the love of his life. Penny might’ve be an accident, but she was no mistake.

He was keen on keeping her happy. Not just tonight, but for the rest of their relationship. “I’d say were, but you still are today. Like, on top of being the most beautiful woman alive.” He spoke earnestly. Dustan gave her bump a gentle tap, his hands already against their growing daughter.

“I hope she looks like you…” Dustan continued. She couldn’t see his face, but she could surely hear the dreaminess in his tone. He pressed another kiss to her collarbone. “If there’s any way of recovering more photos of you, I’m ready to invest, Far. Our whole family could use more of them.” He mused. At the end of the day, he knew he would appreciate more photos of little her, but so would Penny, and, obviously, so would Farrah.

[angelwiththeblue-box]

HAEMOGLOBIN!!!

ok so stardust is about this kid Tristan thorn who is the son of this guy Dunstan thorn and this faerie woman. In the prologue, Dustan and the faerie woman Do The Do and then the faerie woman goes back to faerie because where dunstan/Tristan lives is this town called wall and once every nine years on the mayday the meadow beyond the wall welcomes the faerie market and thats how Dunstan and the faerie woman met anyway so after they fricked the frack the faerie woman went back to being enslaved by this very unkind witch who turned her into a peacock for her troubles and Dunstan went and married a very nice woman who pretended Tristan was her baby when he turned up on the doorstep in a basket and so they raised him like that

FLASH FORWARD EIGHTEEN YEARS Tristan has never been allowed to go to the faerie festival. He is very close with his father and not as close with his mother. And he’s head over heels for this girl Victoria forester and one night he’s like eyyyy Victoria heres all the things I would do to win your heart and its very romantic etc etc and anyway they see a star fall to the ground in the far distance and Victoria is like bring that star to me and I will give you your heart’s desire and Tristan is like Bet and he goes on his merry way with a full endorsement from his father

Anyway he crosses the border into faerie and he meets this short little man who feeds him things and gives him a candle that will take him miles in one step (its magical) and he also learns that he knows the locations of Literally Anything in faerie as long as it is an established place like it can’t be a person

CUT BACK TO WHEN THE STAR FALLS, BUT FROM THE POINT OF VIEW OF FAERIE

The lord of the stormhold is dying. His three sons, Primus, septimus, and secundus (the others were all killed by each other) are all wondering who will be the next lord of stormhold. Anyway he takes this stone he’s wearing and YEETS it out the window like fucking FAR. It hits a star and they both fall to the ground and the lord is like ok whoever brings that stone back to the stormhold will be the next king. And then he dies.

AT THE SAME TIME, A COTTAGE OF WITCHES OBSERVES THE STAR FALLING AND ARE INCREDIBLY HAPPY ABOUT IT

Why, you may ask? Well, my heart, there are six of them. Three are youthful as ever, and three are not. The three who are not wish to be youthful again, but they can only do so by eating the heart of a star. So they draw straws and the one that wins eats the last piece of the last heart they had and she becomes youthful but only for a little while. You see, she needs the heart of that new star.

ANYWAY TRISTAN MAKES IT TO THE CLEARING USING THAT FANCY CANDLE HE GOT BUT O H N O IT BURNS ALMOST OUT!!! HES STUCK!!! HES TRAVELLED HUNDREDS OF MILES IN MINUTES, SURELY IT WILL TAKE SIMPLY M O N T H S TO GET BACK!!

Ah but check it out theres this really pretty girl here and she’s shining in the night almost like the stars WAIT A MINUTE-

Yeah the star is a girl (its a romance what do you think)

She broke her leg when she fell and is pretty much like. Broken. Anyway Tristan comes up to her and is like hey. You are my kidnappee now. I have to give you to the love my life so she’ll marry me. And the star is like weird flex but ok and then Tristan puts a chain on her (not good) and then they go on their merry way (not really they’re kind of stuck and shit out of luck)

AT THE SAME TIME THE PRINCES OF STORMHOLD (THERE ARE TWO LEFT BECAUSE SEPTIMUS KILLED SECUNDUS) ARE CHASING EACH OTHER AND PRIMUS IS TRYING HIS LEVEL BEST NOT TO DIE! HE DOES SMART STUFF ETC ETC

MEANWHILE THE NOW YOUTHFUL WITCH IS ON HER MERRY WAY TO FINDING THE STAR! She stops at a caravan of a familiar looking old woman with a very familiar peacock and is like hey I’m a witch you’re a witch lets be besties and the old witch (who is the old witch from the market if you did not catch on) is like aight bet and then she puts truth serum in the youthful witch’s food and she’s like hehehehe I’m so smart anyway whats new Scooby doo and the youthful witch has to tell her but when she does she is like I cast this spell upon ye that you will never remember any of this you will never see this star so long as you shall live (hold on to that its important) and then the youthful witch goes back to the search (the peacock the other witch had is watching all of this very disdainfully)

Also Tristan and the star have found a unicorn! They’re riding it now. And the star is like so I got knocked out of the sky because SOME DUMB FUCK THREW A ROCK AT ME and she pulls out the rock that the lord of the stormhold threw and she’s like this is so fucking dumb Tristan look how dumb this is and Tristan is like yes I see how dumb it is and she’s like good will you let me go now and he’s like no

uhhh. Things happen. They bond over shit.

THE STAR MAKES A BREAK FOR IT WHEN TRISTAN GOES INTO TOWN FOR FOOD!!! SHE TAKES THE UNICORN AND FUCKING G O E S! Tristan goes after her LITERALLY ONLY BECAUSE HE WANTS TO GET WITH VICTORIA NO OTHER REASON along the way he meets this very nice man who says his name is Primus and he has this very nice carriage! How nice!

AT THE SAME TIME

THE WITCH HAS SET UP A POPUP IN RIGHT IN THE PATH OF THE STAR! THIS IS WHERE SHE WILL LAY HER TRAP! She transfigures two goats to be the innkeeper (her husband) and a pot-maid (basically a servant) and then she waits! Eventually, the star (who’s name is yvaine) happens upon the inn. Salvation, at last!!!

pay no attention to the innkeeper’s wife, who is sharpening a knife and licking her lips. All is well.

Also yvaine doesn’t eat food or drink anything because she subsists on the moonshine or some shit

Ok back to Tristan who has spent some time in this carriage with this fellow Primus and they’ve just happened upon an inn!!! How nice!!! Tristan volunteers to sleep in the barn with the horses and theres a white horse back there too but no matter he’s too tired Primus tells him he’ll get the pot-maid to bring out some brandy and thats the end of it.

UNTIL!!! THE BRANDY IS BROUGHT OUT!!! AND JUST AS HE GOES TO DRINK IT!!! THE STABLE CRASHES AND THE UNICORN COMES BURSTING THROUGH AND STICKS HIS HORN IN IT!!! TRISTAN RECALLS SOMETHING: UNICORN HORN NEUTRALIZES POISON!!! GASP!!! HE’S ALMOST BEEN POISONED!!!

HE RUSHES INSIDE

AT THE SAME MOMENT

THE WITCH IS GETTING CREEPIER AND PRIMUS IS TRYING HIS BEST

TRISTAN BREAKS IN AND IS LIKE PRIMUS BRO I ALMOST GOT POISONED SHE ALMOST POISONED ME AND THEN HE SEES YVAINE AND HES LIKE OMG BABE IVE BEEN LOOKING EVERYWHERE FOR YOU AND THEN ALL HELL BREAKS LOOSE

THERE IS SHOUTING

THERE IS FIGHTING

THE WITCH KILLS PRIMUS

SHES COMING FOR YVAINE AND TRISTAN

BUT TRISTAN STILL HAS THE CANDLE

HE FASHIONS A WICK FROM HIS SHIRT AND THRUSTS IT INTO THE RAGING FIRE! HE AND YVAINE TAKE A STEP AND A STEP AND A STEP AND TRISTAN HOLDS THE CANDLE UNTIL IT BURNS OUT, SCARRING HIS HAND BEYOND BELIEF!!!

WHERE ARE THEY NOW?

On a cloud. chilling.

The witch flees the in and septimus happens upon it and sees his dead brother and is like ha lol ur dead and then he’s like FUCK I DIDNT KILL YOU NOW I HAVE TO GO TAKE REVENGE ON THE PERSON WHO DID FUCK U BRO

So he goes to go kill the witch (he killed like all his brothers so he should be fine)

Ok and then Tristan and yvaine get picked up from the cloud by some flying people who know Tristan through that little fellow who gave him the candle in the beginning and they spend some time with them (a few weeks maybe?) they help to heal Tristan’s hand and yvaine’s leg, though it never heals correctly, so she always has a limp now

And eventually they get dropped off a ways away from wall (closer than they were but still far) and the flying people are like byeee!!! Lovely to meet u :))) and then Tristan and yvaine are like damn better get moving I guess

The witch is like hehehehe they want to get to wall let me set up camp in this pass which is the only way to get there hehehe no one will stop me!!! And septimus is like IM GONNA ARSON IT and he almost does but she catches him and is like BITCHBOY I AM A WITCH YOURE DUMB and then she kills him

Anyway yvaine and Tristan meet this old witch lady (its the same one with the bird and the peacock) and barter with her safe passage to wall because she’s headed there for the faerie market. They use this glass flower his dad gave him which he got from the faerie market himself. Weirdly enough the witch doesn’t notice yvaine or acknowledge her like???? At all???? Ok then and also she turns Tristan into a hamster because why the hell not

So they’re on their merry way to wall and tristan is a hamster and yvaine is still not noticed by the witch so she chills with the bird sometimes and the bird is nice very smart for a bird actually

And they of course pass by the home of the youthful witch who almost got arsoned but did not and also she’s not that youthful anymore and she’s like HALT and shit and she’s like WHAT HAVE YE IN UR CARAVAN and the old lady witch is like nothing hehehe just a hamster hehehe (and because she is cursed to never notice yvaine) the witch believes her!!! They escape thanks to the failings in the witch’s own spell!!!

BACK TO WALL!! THE FAERIE MARKET IS IN FULL SWING!! THEY TRY TO GO IN BUT ARE BARRED BY THESE GUARDS WHO ARE LIKE MMMM NAH AND TRISTAN IS LIKE GOTDAMN OK

So they go back to the faerie market and have a sleep with long romantic pauses (Tristan is seriously reconsidering marriage to Victoria at this point cos like. Yvaine is fucking great yk) and yvaine is like HE WILL NEVER LOVE ME BUT I WILL COPE BECAUSE THAT IS WHAT I DO and in the morning its like TRISTAN THERES SOMEONE HERE FOR YOU and Tristan is like ah yes my lady love Victoria brb yvaine (because men) but actually its his sister who is like YOU FUCKER YOU WERE GONE AN ASS LONG TIME WHAT THE HELL and Tristan is like ah yes about that and then he sees Victoria who is like TRISTAN W MUST TALK IMMEDIATELY

Basically she eplxains that she is going to marry mr Monday (who once employed Tristan) and she is very happy but a promise is a promise and if he has her star then she will fulfill his heart’s desire and Tristan is like well I’m a Grown and Matured man now I DESIRE THAT YOU MARRY MR MONDAY LITERALLY THIS WEEK and also that I get to be with yvaine lets gooooo and Victoria is like FUCK YEAHHHH!!!! And so she and mr Monday get married

And Tristan is like yvaine can live with me in wall but also wall fucking sucks what if I just live in faerie forever that would fuck 

Also yvaine can’t cross the border out of faerie bc then she turns into a rock (similar to the stone of stormhold which she still has btw)

WHEN VICTORIA AND MR MONDAY GET MARRIED THE PEACOCK WHO IS NOW A WOMAN FOR FAERIE MARKET REASONS IS LIKE AHA IM FREE!!! Because the terms of her enslavement were that she would be freed on a week where the moon lost her daughter (the stars are the moons daughters) and two Mondays came together in the same week (Victoria and mr Monday got married) and so she’s free now and she finds Tristan and is like SURPRISE BITCH IM UR MOM ALSO IM THE LAST REMAINING CHILD OF THE LORD OF STORMHOLD BET U DIDNT SEE THAT COMING DO U KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS OH YEAH UR THE FUCKEN LORD OF STORMHOLD COS UR BAE OVER THERE HAS THE ROCK

And Tristan is like wait no I don’t wanna and he and his mom are all ready to get up and arms and yvaine is like mmm I’m gonna go now and she wanders off and runs into NONE OTHER THAN THE NO-LONGER-YOUTHFUL-WITCH who luckily can’t get her heart anymore and they have a conversation and the no longer youthful witch is like I don’t get it why can’t I steal your heart and yvaine is like perhaps because it belongs to someone else (and it was at this point in the book that I came upon my brilliant idea) and then she throws a wanton glance at Tristan and the witch is like *insert that one hades meme here*

Anyway Tristan and his mom have it sorted that she’s (his mum) is gonna go back to the stormhold and be the interim ruler while he and yvaine make their own way and she’s like yeah ok and it turns out she’s such a fire queen that by the time (about six months later) yvaine and Tristan get there its so good they leave a note like “hey so we’re gonna stay out longer don’t begrudge us our travels xoxo gossip girl” and so they do that for a bit

Then they come back and Tristan and yvaine take over as the rulers of the stormhold and all is peaches and cream forever and ever and then Tristan dies and yvaine doesn’t but she does sit in a tower gazing at the stars for the end of time and no one ever mentions her limp

THE END

damn

[botanicalmuses]

My boy dustan growing up and joining cults. *sniff sniff* Im so proud.

[a-tale-of-legends]

On a totally different note, I'm playing Blaze Black 2 and recently caught a dwebble. His name is Dustan. He has a lax nature and given the op -ness of the last Pokemon that had a lax nature, I know he will become the MVP of the team. Even if he isn't, I love and cherish him a whole lot.

( and is probably gonna make me love bug types a whole lot more, cause Unova went wild with their bug types)

[jae-writes-fanfiction]

I loooove your plus size reader stuff, for the freakyficks can u do one of those with Hopper from stranger things activities 4 and five???? <333333333

A Good Thing Here

Chief Hopper x Reader - 803 Words - More Freaky Fics

Notes: Activity 4- trick or treating, Activity 5- decorating for Halloween. I really love Hopper with an s/o of a comparable size it just makes me feel all warm and happy. Part 2

Warnings: 80’s movie typical swearing, kissing, alcohol use and description, someone only wearing a t-shirt.

- - -

You got home from work late, the box of decorations heavy in your hands as you nudged the door open with your hip. Inside Hopper sat with an impatient El and her typical gaggle of friends around your coffee table.

With all the drama associated with growing teenagers, and the typical government conspiracies and cover ups- you’d never gotten around to putting up any Halloween decorations. Hawkins’ Trick-or-Treat started in three hours. Judging by the empty Pizza boxes, the kids were ready to turn the tiny lawn in front of your home into a Halloween haven. After all, it was El’s first real Halloween and you wanted to make it a good one.

“I wanna set up the yard zombies!” Dustan yelled excitedly pulling the fold-out cutouts out of the box. Mike, Will, Max, and Lucas were equally excited and the group tore through the box and onto the lawn in an impressive display of chaos.

You turned your attention to El who still looked a little reserved, “you were late.”

Her little voice sounded older, and for the first time, you realized she was growing up. “I know honey, I’m sorry. But I’m here now,” you softly smiled before tossing a conspiratorial grin towards Hopper.

You grabbed a box of orange twinkle lights from the bottom of the box and pulled El closer to show them off.

“Honey, do you think you might be able to help your daddy get the lights up around the porch while I finish up your costume?”

He groaned and pulled himself out of his chair. You couldn’t help smiling as he wrapped an arm around both of you. “Save it, kid, I can’t tell both of you no.”

El laughed and enthusiastically hugged back before pulling him outside with the others.

You quickly stepped back into the living room proper to fox together the last few pieces of El’s costume. You’d taken the time to sew it yourself so you knew it would be perfect. It just needed some ironing, and a little nip here, a slight stitch there... You’d just gotten the thing finished when the kids burst back inside.

You shoved the pieces into a paper bag and waited until it was El’s turn to get dressed. For a moment El looked confused, the costume fit her perfectly and you were pleased to notice how well it matched with Mike.

Carefully El double-checked the paper bag before looking at you in wonder, “no mask?”

You grinned, “not any more honey.”

Once that was sorted you waited for Steve to come pick them up. Then you watched the kids pile into Steve’s car and you pulled Hopper over to wave from the window as they drove off. Once they were out of sight you set out a bucket of candy, leaving the twinkle lights on for any visitors, and locked the door.

Hopper had quietly moved into your shared bedroom to change out of the day’s clothes which gave you the opportunity for a little trick of your own. You ducked quietly into the bathroom and slipped into something a little more comfortable before slinking back into the kitchen.

You stood behind the kitchen island, smiling as he emerged dressed in stretchy pants and a soft t-shirt. Hopper paused, you hadn’t been wearing that shirt before had you? He puzzled over it as he walked towards you, certain it was one of his shirts. Although, it fits you pretty well too.

“Care to trick-or-treat chief?” You asked with a teasing lilt to your voice.

“After almost falling off that damn roof in front of that Wheeler kid it better be a treat.”

You hummed in agreement before pulling a cold bottle from the fridge and turning down the room’s lights. It made the small disheveled place feel a little cozier.

“For a treat...Pumpkin beer,” you said walking around the counter.

“Christ,” Hopper said, swallowing thickly as you walked out and around from behind the kitchen island. He was happy to notice he was right, you were wearing his shirt, just his shirt. The fabric fits you well and the hem rested just below the soft edge of your stomach.

You giggled softly as you watched him take note of the particular way your hips moved the shirt as you walked. You handed him one of the cold bottles, and set yours on the side table before walking him back into his favorite chair. You sat on the chair’s armrest, and tossed your legs over his lap, pressing yourselves together in the already restricted space. His free hand found your body immediately, and you wrapped an arm around his shoulders to keep you steady as he downed the drink.

“That’s good shit,” he said evenly before tossing the bottle onto the carpet, “want a taste?”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Winter's King 16

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, cheating, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You are a maid to the Duke of Debray, a lord of the Summer Kingdom. That is, until the king of Winter appears with his particular air of coldness. (Medieval AU)

Characters: Geralt of Rivia

Note: I didn't sleep very well but I'm here.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

As you move North, the sunlight fades sooner and rises later, the nights cooling with each mile. Nearly a fortnight on the road, and you return to the service of the queen. Bryce escorts you between the carts, gesturing in passing to his comrades, other times letting past another body on their own mission. You reach the front of the train where men with swords pace and keep watch over the surrounding lands. 

“Evenin’,” Bryce greets the guards outside the queen’s tent and they grumble back. The weariness of travel has overcome many of the travelers. 

You dip your head down and approach the tent flap. Before the card can pull it back for your entrance, it sweeps open from the other side. You step back as another figure falters before you. The king keeps hold of the silk and his eyes skim over you. He tilts his head and moves to hold the fabric open, beckoning you through with his large hand. 

“Your highness,” you murmur. 

His jaw squares but he says nothing. As you enter, the fabric falls heavily behind you. The king’s expression lingers in your mind, his silence even more. The tick in his cheek was hard to miss and you can hear his heavy footfalls as he stalks off. 

Within, the queen sits on a bench, playing with the tassel of her belt. Her father, Lord Dustan, stands to the side, arms crossed as he makes small steps back and forth. He tuts and chews his thumb. 

“Your husband does not behave as son-in-law,” the duke gripes lowly, “he would have let Debray fall to those vandals. He cares only for his frost lands.” 

“Father, he is only eager to be home. As much as I dread the cold, I cannot help but feel as such. I tire of this endless road,” Queen Jazlene yawns into a cupped hand. 

“Ah, but you must be a loyal wife. What of mine? What of your mother? She was alone in the castle.” 

“And you rode out to save her, didn’t you?” Jazlene prompts. 

“I am a lord of the summer lands, I am past my warring days,” Dustan snarls, “he would risk my flesh on an uprising he could crush with his left hand. He tests me!” The duke circles around as he jabs his finger in the air, “I deserve more dignity, more respect. I delivered him his kingdom.” 

“Yes, father, he is a frigid man,” Jazlene bemoans, “as icy a husband. He does neglect us both.” 

“Neglect?” Dustan faces his daughter, “does he not see to his contract?” 

She frowns and bats her doey eyes as she looks away, “it isn’t that he doesn’t fulfill his duty, it is only... how might I get an heir if I lie with my husband only once in a moon?” 

“Does he mean to deceive us? A son will bind us. A son is what we need. Does he think the summer lands will follow a king who does not sow his seed?” 

“I do not know, father. I... I have tried all I can think of.” 

“Mm,” the duke hums darkly, “that won’t do at all. Not at all. When I married your mother, she was swollen with you almost as soon as the vows were said. No, no, it won’t do. I will have word with the king, make certain he does not treat my daughter, his queen, so coolly.” 

Dustan stop and twiddles his fingers. You try to imagine him confronting King Geralt. Surely it is bluster for the sake of his daughter. 

“...we are ruined without an heir...” he mutters. 

Jazlene sits forward on the bench, “ruined, father? I am queen--” 

“Yes, yes, you are queen, but a queen has her duty too,” Dustan insists, “and it cannot be done with a negligent king. Leave it to me, daughter. The next I see the king, I shall handle our business. As I have ever done. Do you believe in me? For I did deliver you a fine marriage, didn’t I?” 

“Yes, father.” 

The duke goes to his daughter and rubs her shoulder. He leans in and you shrink against the tent wall, making yourself small. 

“Should it prove poor judgment,” his whisper scratches from his lips, “I will figure a way out.” 

He kisses her hair and turns to march out. He takes not notice of you though that is expected. Jazlene sighs as the flap falls and she leans back on her hands, swaying her leg. 

“Ah, the maid,” she cheeps, “you will fetch hot water for my feet. They ache.” 

“Yes, your highness.” 

She grins, a catlike expression and sits up straight, “yes, that is right. I am a queen and soon, the king will be certain to treat me as such.” 

You flit off to your duty. As you emerge, your chest stirs with unease. Something about their conversation has you unnerved. Though they said nothing outright, it feels as if there is more laced between the words. The queen and her father hardly sound as allies to the king. 

You try to wipe the apprehension from your mind. You are but a maid and not so well-versed on noble matters. It isn’t your place to unpiece their declarations or untangle their riddles. You are to get the water to sooth the daughter of Debray’s feet, it may yet save you a box to the ears. 

⚔️

You shiver as the cart bounces over the hard ground. You count a month or so since your departure from the capital though the days blend in a fog. The gradual creep of the chill has advanced upon the part, slowing the wheels, and sending the riders to pause and cover their horses. You keep the fur cloak over your lap as you lean into the corner of the cart though Bryce seems enlivened by the atmosphere. 

The dim sky harkens the crossing of the intangible barrier between the summer and winter lands. Sprawling plains and rounded feels give way to rocky passes and jutting mountains, interspersed with lumpy tundras speckled with patches of mud. Several times, your soldierly escort has had to help yank free the wheels from some rut or another. 

“Are we there?” You ask through as chatter, blowing into your hands. “The Hinterlands?” 

“Mm, by my guess, we are at the Fox’s Tail. You see, it is the little strip of land where no man lives, summer or winter,” he explains, reaching to scratch his beard. You envy the warmth it must give to his cheeks. “Isn’t so cold yet, mouse, better brace yerself.” 

You nod and look ahead at the grey, brown expanse. There are dustings of frost but not snow, only on the distant caps of rugged mountains that shadow the horizon. You hug yourself as Daisy’s breath plumes in misty clouds around her head. 

“Why does no one live here?” You ask. 

“There are no trees, no grass to feed the livestock or game,” he shrugs, “it is barren...” he sucks his teeth and thinks, “there was a war. Hundreds of years ago, maybe more. The summer folk spilled upon the winter lands, some squabble over a slain lord... they put salt to the earth. They did not only want vengeance on the living, they wanted their descendants to suffer for their misdeeds. Starve out an entire people.” 

He snorts and shakes his head, “what the summer people didn’t understand is that the winter skinned do not stay still. They move with the winds. You’ll see, mouse. You haven’t done the last of yer scurrying.” 

You huddle down as another cold breath sweeps through the air. You’re not used to it but you will be. That’s how it always is. You just have to take what you get and make it work. You can’t complain for what you have; a warm cloak, a cart, and a kind companion. 

⚔️

Your teeth chatter as you hold closed the front of the fur cloak, the hood over your head as you walk the frozen earth. More often than not, you’ve left the prized cape in your cart for your return. It is too heavy to wear while serving the queen but the weather permits you no mercy. It is far too bitter to forgo the extra layer. 

Bryce is unbothered in his mail and the simple fur trim the collar of his wool cloak. He only seems to thrive in the dipping temperatures, stoking a fire for your nocturnal return so that you may sleep in its warmth. His constancy keeps you from mourning the lost summer sunshine. 

He stands behind you as you cross to the queen’s tent, now raised with several layers to insulate the walls. You enter as you do every night, unnoticed as Queen Jazlene mindlessly stares into the pages of a book. She’s grown quiet these last weeks as the travel wears on her, even her wardrobe showing the effects. 

You feel a gust from beneath the tent wall and step away from it. You watch the queen, huddled beneath a blanket on a stool, shaking as she tries to warm her hands in each other. She wears several satin cloaks layered over each other but the fabric is too sleek to garner much heat. 

She puffs into her palms and groan.  

“Damn this cold,” she mutters, then sits up, “maid, tea!” She demands, “Something warm! Anything!” 

You utter a small “your highness” and spin away to your task. You step out into the cold and go off to find a fire and a pot. The queen has some berry tea in her chests.  

You acquire a cup of steaming water from a cluster of servants around a flame. You linger for a moment to absorb some of the fire’s haze then set back toward the royal tent. As you near, a shadow nearly collides with you. You keep the cup balanced as you scramble around the figure. The torch light catches the king’s golden eyes as they meet yours. 

“Your highness,” you murmur. 

He grunts as he stops fully. He stares down at you wordlessly. You cannot read his expression as shadows dance around his features, flickering various emotions across his face. He bows his head and presses on. You turn to watch him go as concern rolls up your throat. 

In those last weeks, months you believe, you’ve not seen much of the king. You’ve wondered after his elusivity. At first, you thought it might be due to the combat at Debray, perhaps he was disheartened by the last act of resistance. Then you surmised it might be evasion of his own wife. Alas, you could not guess and fathomed it was not your place to do so. 

This brief encounter further perplexes you. You can’t help but question if it is you. You recall the last day in the capital, the grit of his voice casting you out. Go. The memory ripples through you. 

You think much of yourself. It wouldn’t be anything to do with a paltry maid. You focus on the hot water in your hand and continue on to the queen’s tent. 

You enter and wrap the dried berries and leaves, steeping them in the steaming water. You hover over the cup, waiting for the water to deepen in hue and cool enough to drink. When you bring it to the queen, you feel her gaze upon you. 

“Your highness,” you hand her the cup. 

She hesitates to take it, only doing so after deep consideration. She holds the tea in one hand as her other tugs on your cloak. She makes an ugly noise. 

“And where did you find this, maid?” She sneers. “Hmm, I sit her in my summer garb and you wear a bear’s skin?” 

Your lips part and you raise your shoulders. You look at the tent wall and frown. You poke your hand outside the cloak and touch the soft fur.  

“Your highness,” you look down at the cloak then at her trembling grasp on the cup. “Would you like it? You look awfully cold.” 

“Yes, I want the damn cloak!” She yanks it hard, “I am the queen and you did not think to offer me a proper cloak? How stupid are you.” 

You bow your head and reach to unbuckle the cloak. When it is loose, you shrug it off and hand it over. You will find a spare blanket. There must be some left among the luggage. 

She shoves the cup at you and stands. She swings the cloak around her and hums as she pulls its snug around her figure. She sits again and rubs her chin against the fur. 

“Much better,” she says, “I’ve been suffering this damnable place for far too long.” 

She takes the tea back, spilling a drop on your hand. You back away, the liquid cooling and sending a new chill through you. You cover one hand with the other and clutch tightly, locking your jaw against the tremor that crawls up your spine. 

The queen slurps from the tea and makes a face. She sneers, “I want wine,” she pouts, “how long must I be deprived? Wine!” She snarls down at the cup, “but I must drink this bile. Oh, but the king bids it,” she raises her voice mockingly, “you must obey your husband.” She shakes her head and takes another gulp, “at least it is warm. At least--”  

She holds the cup away from her suddenly as her face twists. She drops it and recoils, panic washing over her. She keels forward, holding her skirts out of the way as she spews onto the rug spread over the hard ground. She wretches loudly, spasming with the horrid sounds snagging in her throat. 

The smell of her vomit permeates the tent. She stays bent over her lap as she pants. You come forward and offer her a handkerchief to wipe her mouth. She sits up and gulps tightly, her features drawn. She pats her lips. 

“Well, clean it up,” she turns her feet away from the puddle between them. “Stupid maid.” 

She pokes a sharp nail into your arm and you wince.  

“Your highness, are you unwell?” You ask, “shall I fetch a physician? Or some ginger?” 

“No, you stupid cow, I am not unwell,” she flicks her fingers at you before waving away the stench of her bile. She stands and walks away from it, her hand settling on her middle. She faces you and smiles broadly, “I am carrying the king’s son.” Her face darkens as she wrinkles her nose, “I told you, you twit, to clean that up. You best do so before I make you eat it.” 

You nod and bend your neck, “yes, your highness, I will fetch water.” 

“I don’t care, just do it,” she snaps and rubs her stomach. She lets out a shuddery groan and turns her back to you. You watch as she draws tight the cloak and sways with a trill, “I will be a true queen now. He cannot deny me any longer.” 

[des-roses-souterraines]

I’m very bad at having an opinion. I tried. I could never voice anything by like...being a film critic, and I don’t think I could earn a living with it anyway.

I’ve always preffered mysterious figures to “too” analytic artists. I like when someone give tips about how to craft things though. But I like when artists keeps things secret. OR nothing is a secret in their life but they create mystery on the other hand. For example, I like how Guillaume Dustan believed in Ghosts and had all these bizarre syntax sometimes, like a naive mystic. But the reader also knew every details of his private life. He had a real taste for obscenity.

In general I love artists who are close to the death, I mean proximal with death while being alive.

[kymchiwrites]

London Winter Travel Guide

This post is really late, but I just wanted to share some of the things I did while I was in London. I had already done all the major tourist-y things when I visited in 2016, so I wanted to see what else there was to discover. And since I went during the winter season, it gave me a few more options that I wouldn’t otherwise have been able to do or see if I went during another time. 

So without further ado, here are a few things you can check out during the winter and also some things to do for all seasons :3 

1) Visit the artwork at St. Pancras International station.

Located below the St. Pancras clock are the words “I want my time with you”, a text piece created by Tracey Emin. In an interview, she said “I cannot think of anything more romantic than being met by someone I love at a train station and as they put their arms around me, I hear them say ‘I want my time with you’,” but she also says that the piece is dedicated to everyone from Europe arriving in London. If you visit during the winter time, the train station will be decorated with more lights and you might even run into a caroler or two (or three or a group singing the classic All I Want for Christmas is You). 

2) Enjoy wine, pie, and music at the Sky Garden.

Every year, Sky Garden hosts a Christmas Hits, a live music night. For ~ £17 (~$22), you gain admission to the Sky Garden after hours, a glass of mulled wine and a mini mince pie. The event starts at 7 pm and goes on until midnight. The band started playing around 8 pm and alternated between Christmas and current music hits. There was a lot of people that night and I had a hard time finding a place to sit, but it was nice to see a glimpse of the city at night. 

3) Take a break among plants and see the city from a different vantage point.

Just in case you visit London at any other season, you can still pay a visit to the Sky Garden! Their normal hours are Monday - Friday from 10 am - 6 pm and 11 am - 9 pm on weekends and holidays. Admission is free! Tickets can be booked on a weekly basis up to three weeks in advance via their website. Just in case you weren’t able to book a ticket, you can always take your chances by heading there the day of. But beware, there’s probably going to be a long line. A tip: you have to go through airport-like security so prepare to take your jacket/coat off and empty your pockets. 

4) See a Broadway show.

This option is for all seasons, but I found it an especially good option for a winter night because it’s a nice place to stay warm and enjoy a good show hehe. There are a number of different Broadway shows running in London including Wicked, Hamilton, Aladdin, and Les Miserables. I’ve seen three shows in London so far and they’ve all been quite good. I stumbled upon the cast exit as I was heading back to Covent Garden. There was only one other girl waiting outside and we got to meet a good number of the cast and crew including Zazu, Scar, and Simba (pictured above). It was worth shivering in 6°C/42°F weather hehe.

5) Shop at Covent Garden.

I feel like Covent Garden is always a good place to visit no matter what the season, but it truly comes alive during Christmas-time. There’s lights and trees, and mistletoe everywhere. My favorite decorations were the big silver ornaments that showered the main hall with light once the sun set. There’s also always someone singing or playing music in the main market hall near the bathrooms.

6) Chase Christmas lights.

I gotta say—no one does Christmas better than London (okay, maybe the Philippines but the cold-wind turning your cheeks rosy pink in London along with the glittering display of lights really makes me feel like Christmas is truly in the air). These lights are located at Oxford Street, Regent Square, Seven Dials and Bond Street, respectively. 

7) Discover unique gifts and eat amazing food. 

No one does Christmas like London part 2 featuring Christmas markets! There are several around the city and my favorite ones were the markets at Leicester Square and South Bank. They have delicious food as well as beautiful gifts--including handmade star lanterns and carved wood ornaments from Germany. What better way to finish your Christmas shopping and keep your tummy warm and happy? 

8) Go on a food adventure.

Since we’re on the topic of food, I would like to introduce my favorite place to go on a food-venture: Borough Market! You can literally taste food from all over the world. They have baked goods, fresh produce, different cuts of meat and seafood -- basically everything and anything you would want to eat. My favorite stall is Khanom Krok, which sells authentic Thai streetfood and of course, khanom krok, a coconut pudding-pancake (pictured above).

9) Admire architecture.

To be honest, sometimes I do things or go to specific places for the gram. This is one of them LOL. The first two pictures are of Leadenhall Market—a covered shopping and dining market. I loved how the four hallways converged into a central shopping square, complete with a Christmas tree. The next two pictures are of Hay’s Galleria, another covered shopping market. Since it was Christmas time, the center hall had a little Christmas market set up with handmade gifts and specialty foods. The third set of pictures are of the ruins of St. Dustan-in-the-East, a church bombed during The Blitz. It’s now a public garden, but since it’s hidden on a secluded side-street, it’s remained a well-kept secret. Last, but not least, St. Paul’s Cathedral. It’s a more tourist-y place to go, mostly because Princess Diana and Prince Charles got married there. When I visited in 2016, I was able to go inside for free during one of the services. But if you prefer a full tour, tickets are £20 (~$26) at the door or £17 (~$22) online. They are open for sightseeing Monday - Saturday from 8:30 am - 4:30 pm. Take note that no picture taking or filming is allowed inside.

10) Have a good ol’ cup of tea.

Is any visit to London complete without having tea? I think not. There are so many different places you can have tea, but I found that the Wallace Collection had the best bang for your buck (or pound pala). The Wallace Collection is a national museum with a restaurant, free admission, and fast wifi! It was a really nice place to sit, admire artwork, and rest my feet after walking around in the cold and rain. The museum and restaurant are open daily from 10 am - 5 pm, but afternoon tea begins at 2:30 pm. You can either walk in or make a reservation online. For £9 (~$11), I got a pot of fine loose leaf tea, and a freshly baked scone with Cornish clotted cream and strawberry preserve on the side. 

-------

Hope this guide gives you a better idea of what to see, eat or do in London on your first (or next) visit! :3

[bioticgoddess]

Songbirds and Baby Bats (XI)

Series Summary: Jason Todd returns from the dead and, after the events of Under the Red Hood, he goes from Gotham to Bludhaven in search of himself...and an old friend. But getting your life back is never easy and Black Mask has enlisted the aid of Gotham’s other Crime Families as well as a few ghosts of Batman’s past. He’s coming for the Red Hood and everyone of his allies.

Always fun to play with photo editing when you need a pic off instagram. I don’t own any of the images of Ian Lang/CD828 as Red Hood. None of them. As per usual, save for my OFCs, I own nothing. That said...Welcome to the show and donate to their Season 2 Kickstarter - there are only 7 days left! 

--

PART XI

Jason sat at the workbench with his helmet in hand. It had been designed to take significantly more punishment that the last fight alone had done to it. He had, however, also been derelict in maintaining his gear since sliding back into the void he’d left in the lives of Dick and Amy. Sighing, he plugged the helmet into his laptop. Watching the two pieces of hardware talk to one another, he tapped absentmindedly at the keyboard. At least the problem didn’t seem to lie with the software. That was a small favor,  he had no desire to sit and fix code.

God that could be boring. He’d much rather reinstall a microchip with a set of tweezers and a soldering gun. 

“Hardware. That’s not...so bad,” his voice trailed off as the door to the bed room swung open. Looking up treated him to a view of Amy in an over-sized shirt and running shorts. The former stolen from his duffel bag. “Hey,” he smiled, nodding for her to come over.   

Holding up a hand, she turned the corner into the open kitchen. “Coffee first,” she yawned, nearly tripping over their boots. It had been over a week since the incident at the construction site and they still hadn’t moved those from their place in front of the freezer door. “Shite...balls…feck.” 

Chair scraping across and nearly crashing to the floor, Jason shot up. “You okay,” he called, taking a step towards her. One of her hands was on the counter, the other held up to stop him, she tiptoed around one of his boots - laying on its side like a fallen domino. At least he’d made a fresh pot of coffee when he got up...before dawn. The cabinet clanged open and she nearly dropped one of the mugs as she drew it down from the shelves, cursing again. It was a process and the woman had visible not slept well. When she finally finished the voodoo that was pouring herself a cup of coffee and padded from kitchen to workbench, Jason asked, “How late did you end up working on this stuff?”

Their gear, armor and base layers aside, was spread out on the workbench. That included his firearms, neatly stored in cases of different materials that spilled onto the floor and formed a row against the wall.  “Too bloody late,” she yawned over the rim of her mug. It was his way of saying he didn’t remember if or when she’d crawled into bed and expressing concern for her that tugged at the back of his mind.

“The discharge mechanism diagnostic is done by the way,” he thumbed at her dismantled gauntlets and heard her mutter something that sounded like an okay before dragging the rolling chair along behind her. He watched her spin the chair around and straddle it. Her arms were propped against the back, coffee in hand. Dropping back in his own chair, Jason sat facing her. “I looked over our intel. All that data we followed to Black Mask and then...Dustan.”

“Aye?”

“It was bait. Meant to get us away from doing what we do best: Cracking heads and...re-purposing the mobs’ shit.”

“Back to basics then?”

“You know it.”

“Destroy the drugs, turn in the guns, and so on.”

“The drugs I can get behind. Was wanting to keep the weapons though.”

“You’re mad love.”

He shrugged, leaning back in his chair and throwing his arms behind his head, nearly knocking his laptop off the table in the process. “AH!...You know you want to rob ‘em blind to!” A broad, sparkling smile beamed back at her. It had a disarming quality that worked on everyone except his adoptive family, and Barbara Gordon.

“Dia ár sábháil**,” she muttered, taking a swing from the black and gray striped mug in her hands. The eye roll she gave him included the fully involved head bob for effect. Jason laughed almost despite himself. A half second later, coffee warming the length of her throat, Amy continued, “Someone has to make sure you, ya know, stay alive.”

His face clouded over for a split second. He knew she was teasing, knew it was meant to be in jest, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t kicking himself for getting killed all those years ago in for the first place. Then it was gone. The Broadway smile that had faltered snapped back into place, his blue eyes looked like clear sapphires, and all that remained was a puzzled look on Amy’s face. “Jaybird,” she coaxed, a hand on his knee, “Love, where did you go?”

“Hm?”

“It was quick but you...you weren’t here were ye?”

“I’ll tell you about it later, okay?”

“Okay…” She’d resolved not to press when that kind of dark shadow fell over him. There’d been a professor in her gen-ed psychology class who’d made a point of impressing upon the students that pressuring someone with obvious PTSD or similar potential issues would likely end with them being not only shut down but also out. That was the last thing she wanted. Jason was back, provided he stuck around (in every way that implied) then it meant he’d inevitably open up. She patted his knee as he turned his attention back to the readouts from his helmet.  “Why not tell me what’s going on with that?”

 He’d started clicking through the screens, visibly furrowing his brow on the third one. “Um...well, some of the circuits on my HUD aren’t working right.” Flipping the red egg over in his lap, Jason’s fingers glided along its seams until he found the internal release. A pop echoed in the room and it separated into three loosely conjoined parts: a front and back of the helmet itself and the inner lining used to both cushion it and protect the internal electronics. “Looks like,” he followed a trio of wires that traveled along the jawline to the lenses and hung his head. “I found it.”

 Withdrawing his hand from the cluster of red and black, a section of frayed wire and snapped plastics filled his palm. “That, is part of the the circuit and wiring harness that actually lets me see.” Hanging his head he tapped the computer keyboard with his other hand, the ocular lenses lighting up. “It gives me biometric feedback like what the old man has in his cowl, not as complex as his gear but more so than your mask or Dick’s. Unlike you guys, if this is broken, I’m pretty much walking around in the dark with sunglasses on. This,” he set the circuit and wires down, tapping the brow of his helmet, “Thing has no peripheral vision, what so ever.”

 “Where did you get it,” she’d scooted forward and was leaning in to look at the small circuit boards and frayed wired as best she could against the chair back. “These are…”

Chuckling to himself, Jason answered proudly, “I broke into the R&D facility for Wayne Tech’s Korean offices. Knocked out the security, whole deal. It was fun.”

“Dunno about you,” her eyes were locked on the one-inch squared chunk of circuit board in her hand. Turning it over, the crack and separated or corroded components painfully visible. “But this is beyond my ability to fix.” That knowledge sat like a knot in both their stomachs. “And breaking into the main offices of Wayne Enterprises is-”

“Next to impossible. I know.”

“It’s the only place that’s actually meant to keep us out.”

“C’mon, it’ll be fun.” He had no point of reference to promote this kind of confidence. “Hack a few consoles, override the computers -”

She laughed, sparing a glance from the circuit assembly, “I repeat: You’re mad.”

--

“How did I let you talk me into this,” Jason could hear Wren paced back and forth on her  perch. She’d taken up position  the roof of the office high rise across from Wayne Tower. Her voice was edged with concern and knew that, despite her walking a rut into the roof, her eyes were him. He’d given her his sniper scope for just that purpose. When he didn’t answer, preoccupied with the roof access console, the Irish woman's’ voice chirped in his ear again, “You sure that patch job will hold for this?”

Chuckling across their comms he offered, “ Yes it will; also this is fun and you’re an excellent partner.”

“Well, provided we don’t get caught. How are you planning to thank your partner?” 

“Dinner,” he promised, overriding the pass codes finally. The lock popped open with a soft click. “Steak, I’ll buy and cook.” Pulling the door open, he drew a pre-cut strip of duct tape across the bolt to prevent it re-engaging. He also put a thin piece of rubber in both to top and bottom corners so it would appear closed on cameras, all while remaining ajar a few millimeters.

“I’m sorry, you cook now? When did this happen!?” There was level of incredulity mixed with the disbelief in her words, he was amused. It wasn’t unwarranted. Pre-Lazarus pit bath, he’d been unable to make more than general breakfast items, spaghetti, and a few simple meals. Chili was the most complicated thing he’d dabbled in at the time. Post-Lazarus pit, he’d had to figure out how to prep a wider array of meals in order to survive.

Trailing back over the awful black and red calendar that served as the last several years Jason pinpointed at least the location where it started. “Somewhere on the Mediterranean coast. Not sure what country though,” he whispered, splicing and cutting the wires on one of the door leading from the roof access stairs to the executive suite level. “Memory serves,” he grumbled, changing the subject,“There are some spares in the Old Man’s office”

He could hear Wren sputtering on the other ends of their communication channel. Clearly the news he’d learned to cook had her spinning. “And it’s edible?”

“Yup,” he chuckled, the locking mechanism chiming as it disengaged. A gentle twist of the knob, another strip of duct tape across the lock to prevent it from catching. Once more he left it partially ajar, unlocked and closed softly enough the weight didn’t force it closed. Ahead of him stretched the corridor that included two the offices of the CEO, CFO, and COO as well as Bruce Wayne’s own. The spotty telemetry helping him skip past and around the security cameras and sensors.

Getting into the offices was the easy part, especially Bruce’s own. Never failed to surprise him that the old man didn’t take greater precautions. And, as the grand wooden doors swung open, he realized why. “Fuck.”

“Jay?”

“There’s enough security in this room that it makes Luthor’s look like an open bar,” he grumbled, getting the fractured scan of the room. It was big and equipped with everything from retinal to pressure scans. “Also I can make baklava now too.”

She giggled and he grinned, tip toeing past a number or laser sensors. “A nice dinner date will be perfect then.”

“Glad someone’s going to appreciate my cooking,” he had three safes to choose from. One, he remembered, held spare electronics for the Bat family gear. Another held a handful of emergency weapons and grappling guns. The third, behind the portrait of Thomas and Martha Wayne held company relevant documents and information.  “You got any ideas Irish? The telemetry scanners are just functional enough that I -”

“The one behind the portrait of Bruce with Dick and Alfred,” she cut him off, still watching from across the the alleyway. “You’re cute when you puzzle over something.”

He chuckled, “Of course you know. Alright, let’s hope the part I need is there.” Carefully he crossed to the large portrait, the urge to take out his combat knife was strong but he knew slashing the damn thing was going to get them caught. Gingerly he slid it aside, turning so his back held the stupidly heavy portrait and it’s ostentatious gold painted frame back. It gave him access to the digital lock staring at him from the wall. “Oh shit.”

“Everything alright?”

Nervously he answered her, uncomfortably admitting this lock was beyond him, “He...uh...yea...no. I can’t open this.”

“Beg pardon?”

“I have seen this lock once and it nearly got me caught and killed.” He laughed nervously frustrated, “The short version: I tried to get into the Batcave when I first got back through the vehicle access. That was, um...a mistake.”

“Story for later. You want me to come over?”

“Hahah,” he reached into his jacket, pulling out a small explosive device, “No, I have another plan. Just, um, just be ready to run like hell Little Bird.” He affixed it to the locking mechanism keypad, tapping a four digit code into its interface and shifting to grip the portrait he added, “On my mark.” He hefted the painting off the wall, it was longer than he was tall and nearly sent all six-feet of him falling backwards with its unwieldy size. Leave it to Bruce to have something overwhelming in such a prominent place. He set it on the opposite wall, near a painting of Wayne Tower. Go figure.

Wren didn’t have a real opportunity to respond before Jason dropped on the far side of Bruce’s giant desk. No sense playing fast and loose with this little gadget. His need for the circuit board out weight even the shrapnel of a desire to reconcile with Bruce. The old man would get over it. Not like what was about to happen could really be considered unexpected. After all, this was how he did things. “Mark,” he hissed over comms, squeezing the small detonation switch tucked in his left hand.

The following explosion was enough that Wren saw it from her point across the way, peering in the window with the sniper scope. The average person on the street wouldn’t see or hear it. That didn’t mean, however, that the security personnel half a dozen floors down were unaware or that Batman hadn’t been alerted to the intrusion. “Shite Jay,” she cursed.

“Get going.”

“Not til you leave that building.”

Shaking his head, Jason stalked back to the now open safe. Putting his legs into it, he yanked the heavy steel open. There were two shelves: One holding waterproof strong boxes with microchips in it, the second held a full utility belt for a Robin. Oh yea, that was coming too. He slung it over his head and let the belt drape awkwardly around his chest before tucking the two small boxes into the pockets of his jacket.

It took him a minute to get situated. “Okay, and out the window,” he answered the silent panic coming from Amy across the way. “Please tell me you’re moving,” getting the windows of the executive suite open was the easiest part of their night.

Grappling hook engaged, it dragged him across the street and onto the next roof a heart beat before the security personnel opened the door. At least there’d be nothing in the safe to out their dysfunctional little family. They couldn’t have that happen. “We’ve got incoming,” she warned.

“Well that was quick.”

--

They’d narrowly gotten away from Downtown Gotham and Batman without issue. There was no guarantee Jason hadn’t, towards the end, been caught on camera but it was something he’d deal with later. At the moment, getting them the rest of the way back to Bludhaven was his top priority.  He could fix his helmet later, now that he had the parts. Right now, he had a promise to keep. Sitting in the passenger seat, whole body leaning against the door and head lolling forward as she slept, was the one person in the family he knew he had to make amends with.

Alfred would forgive him. The man probably already had. Dick had basically done the same, surprisingly. But Grayson had always had the over-protective brother complex. As for Bruce? That was still no loss.

He changed lanes, left hand on the wheel while his right came to rest on Amy’s thigh. Their haul and their masks were in a backpack in the seat behind them. Not for the first or last time he smiled and whispered, “It’s good to be back.”

 ----

Dia ár sábháil. = Lit “God Save us” But it could work of “Good Lord” and “Oh my God!” Source:  https://inirish.bitesize.irish/3649