#squirelly

[minttangerines]

But of course I need to ask about Felix, and who would I be if I didn't ask about San - what was your idea for 90s San?

Funny you brought up Felix because an idea I had is sitting in your inbox for you to write 🤪

We talked about widower Felix but I thought about it some more. He uses OC to help get with his next target. Felix was the stepmother's sidepiece. OC hates the stepmother. Felix offers to take care of OC as long as she takes care of him aka alibis him. At the same time, the stepmother is trying to fool Felix too. Again, this one had a dark edge to it because Felix is responsible for all of his past spouses dying.

90's San! The shoulders and top were giving me this vibe:

I feel like such an ass for saying this but he always gives me himbo vibes. And he's so sweet! Early 90s. I'm talking Vanilla Ice and Ghostwriter. Ever since you said Color Me Badd, that is all I can think of. 90's Bio-Dome with San and Wooyoung?

[allastoredeer]

Alastor has cute lil raccoon hands lmao 😭

He doooooes 😭 thin, sassy little racoon hands. My trash king 🙏

[petit-papillion]

"There are a lot more bumps than last year. The car jumps around more and constantly wants to swerve. Charles can cope better with that."

Carlos after the Sprint | US GP | 21 October 2023

Source: AMuS

[ramonaflow]

One of my favourite cold opens (x)

Episode 903 - Scorched Earth

[shivunin]

Hullo! 💜 For the OC Codex Prompt: 12 for Emmaera (because I can't picture her drunk and think it will be funny, but if she doesn't drink choose another character!) and 15 for Arianwen? :3

Emma's was really hard! After some consideration, I concluded that she would not think she was drunk even when she was really drunk. I wrote another Zevran letter for Wen, set directly before today's ficlet (under the cut; this wound up a bit long). Thank you for the prompt <3!!

12. your OC overheard while drunk

A conversation overheard outside Herald’s Rest on a clear summer evening:

“Mmmm fine, lemme go.”

“Maker, you’re—Inquisitor, please. Allow me to—”

“Cullen, stobbit. I can walk up the stairs! It was only a lilllll bit of alcall Bull said it was fine. Bull wouldn lie!”

A thud, and then a soft cry of pain. 

“Are you alright? Here—oh, no; don’t cry. Let me see—you’re bleeding a little bit. Will you let me help you up the stairs now? I’ve a healer’s kit in my office.”

A sniffle. 

“No.”

A sigh. 

“Maybe.”

A pause.

“Can you carry me?”

The scrape of boots on stone, and then:

“Alright, come here, love. There we go. Maker, your breath; what in Thedas were you drinking? It smells like—”

“Shhh, zzzzhhhhhhhh. Don’t say it. Don’t wanna—you’re too pretty.”

Boots on stone, and an uncomfortable cough. 

“Ah. Thank you?”

“Too pretty to be sick on. Can’t do it.”

“Ah. I see. Are you…?”

“No, ‘m fine. Fine. Are you carryin me? Why?” 

“Maker, don’t—!” 

Rapid shuffling, and then the soft sound of bare feet hitting stone. 

“I cin walk!” 

“Come back, don’t—Maker protect and preserve me, I am going to kill that man!” 

Another, heavier sigh, and then rapid footsteps up the stairs and away.

15. a letter to your OC from a companion they haven’t seen in a while

(I know it’s a copout to write Zev for this one again but consider: I love him)

A letter found in an abandoned Crow safehouse, trampled and bloodstained and trapped under the dead body of an assassin. It is sealed, unsent, and reads:

My dearest Warden, 

The Wounded Coast is lovely this time of year. I do think you would enjoy it; Kirkwall has a greater than average number of people who need killing, and I do think you would enjoy yourself immensely. 

Do not trouble yourself if you have heard of my run-in with the Crows here; I was able to fight them off with a little assistance. Did you know that our Isabela has famous company these days? Indeed,  she is traveling with Kirkwall’s Champion, who fought off the Qunari invasion some three years past. She is just your type, I do think; but alas, it would seem she is otherwise occupied at the moment—or so Isabela tells me. Quite the messy little city they have there; I will have much to tell you about all of it when I see you next. 

I do hope these letters are reaching you, mi vida. I know what I said before, but I swear that I will be with you soon. I have discovered the source of information that led them to me here, and I must cut it off before I walk away. It would be an understatement to say that I have, as you Fereldens say, struck the bee’s nest with my excursions. Apparently, the Crows continue to dislike my absence from their torture chambers, if you can believe it. Some simply do not understand a declined invitation, it would seem. 

I swear to you, on my word, on my skill as a lover, that I am coming back as soon as I have completed this task. It has been far too long; you know that I would not stay away from you all these months without a powerful reason. 

I have plans, you see. I have a ship chosen for the return journey; the captain has reasons to return directly to Amaranthine. I will track you down in your keep. We will ride to the remote place of your choice and stay there for at least a week, with only the two of us and all of the time we might want. You can tell me that I am an idiot and beat me soundly  in combat (I have gained new skills to show you, of course, but I always look forward to the part where you get me on my back), and then we can make love under the stars. If you will allow me, I will tell you about every one of your beautiful characteristics and why I adore each of them so. 

 It is my goal to reach you before this letter; ideally, you will be reading this with me at your side, plying you with kisses and fine wine. Wait for me only a little longer, mi vida, jewel of my heart. You are always with me in my thoughts.

I remain:

Yours, without reservation, 

Zevran

[mister13eyond]

having a Strange Brain Day lads

[crystalqueer]

LETTERKENNY SEASON 11 arrives DECEMBER 26TH and, 🎶 TO BE FAIR 🎶, I suggest you let that one marinate.

[narke]

mans was just bursting at the seams watching my subpar mobility excercises

[moonbuckets]

Oh so the plural of surgeon general is surgeons general, huh? Well what about bunnies rabbit. Puppies dog. KITTIES CAT. Did you ever think of that, you sillies goose?

[alittlebitofloveliness]

I fucking love thanksgiving, I’m three drinks deep and a little tipsy, my brother brought a girlfriend home for the first time ever, my dad’s cornered the poor girl and is talking at LENGTH about his record collection while my brother tries to gently free them from the conversation, half he family is here and there’s so much food this is an A+ holiday

(In outsiders verse, Sodapop is me, Pony’s the one bringing someone home for the first time, and Darry is the ones who’s so nervous he’s gone squirelly, Two-bit is the person talking peoples ear off, I love this)

[mosylufanfic]

5 times Melshi and Cassian talked about Jyn Erso (and one time they didn't have to)

Canon compliant you guys - or at least, it doesn’t directly contradict canon. Whatever you choose to think at the end is up to you.

5 times Melshi and Cassian talked about Jyn Erso (and one time they didn't have to)

1. Before Wobani

Ruescott Melshi was on his way down the hall when a familiar form caught his eye. 

"Keef," he called out. "Briefing's this way."

Cassian didn't even roll his eyes at the fake name, the one Melshi had known him by on Narkina 5 and still used to tease him. "Change of plans."

"Is the mission off?"

"No, it's on. We need this woman. But I'm not going."

They'd been planning this breakout for a week now. "What's up?"

"I have to meet one of my contacts. He's getting - squirelly. But I'll send Kay with you."

"All right," he said. Infiltrations and exfiltrations were his specialty. Cassian was coming because he needed the woman for something important. But he'd never been an intrinsic part of the plan. Kay, yes, Cassian not so much, even if they generally came as a matched set. "I'll bring her back. No problem."

"Good. Ah, listen - I've read her arrest records. Don't underestimate her."

"Because she's in Wobani? You and I both know how people end up in places like that. I'm not worried." He considered. "Maybe I am. She might get a look at this face and fall in love with me."

It coaxed a crook of his lips, a huff of a laugh. Cassian had never been a particularly jolly guy. But lately he'd been getting tired, drained-looking. The spark of rage that burned in his eyes was getting dimmer and dimmer.

Melshi had seen the same in his fellow operatives over the years, usually just before they burned out, either quietly or spectacularly. Worry wormed in his stomach as he watched his friend walk away. 

2. On the Way Back

Melshi cursed long and fluently as the medic fixed his nose. "Crazy fucking woman."

The crazy fucking woman in question was in restraints at the back of the troop transport. They hadn't planned on it, so they were the decoy restraints that they'd used when stopping the Wobani transport, hastily reprogrammed to actually work. She sneered at him. 

"I told you I was getting you out," he said. 

"I don't know you," she snapped back. "Why should you do anything for me?"

"Good question," he muttered. 

"Melshi," one of his team called out. "Captain on the comm."

Cassian frowned at him through the comm screen. The bruises were probably coming in, dark and nasty, visible even through the bluish distortion of the screen. "Trouble?"

"Yeah, from that nutjob you wanted me to pick up."

Cassian's brows rose.

"She hit me in the face with a shovel."

"I told you not to underestimate her. Did you let her know we were getting her out?"

"Yeah, and then she hit me in the face with a shovel!"

His lips quirked. "I guess you're safe from her falling in love with you."

"Kriff you, man," he said, pleased to see a flicker of Cassian's dry humor for once. "What's your ETA?"

They compared notes and found that they'd be back on base about a day before he would. "We'll put her in a holding cell overnight," Melshi suggested, touching the bruises gingerly. "Maybe that'll stop her from assaulting anyone else."

3. After the Interrogation

When Cassian saw him in person, he said, "Damn."

"It was a big shovel," Melshi said grouchily. Not to mention she'd prefaced it by slamming her boot into his nuts. No need to mention that, though.  Now that more people on base had seen Jyn Erso, he and the rest of Extraction Team Bravo were getting a lot of shit about getting beat up by one tiny woman. "Is she going to help?"

"She agreed. She had to be bribed, but she agreed."

Melshi knew better than to ask what Cassian needed her for. "Well, good luck, then. Don't give her any weapons."

Cassian grunted, still looking out over the shuttle bay. 

"What?" Melshi said. "You worried she'll turn you in for the reward or something?"

"Not that," he said. "I didn't get the sense she had any love for the Empire. She just didn't care about anything we had to say."

"Well," Melshi said. "Lot of people don't care." It burned him too, sometimes, how people could look away, look past the Empire and everything it did, as long as it didn't affect them. And then when it did, they were shocked. 

"It's more than that. She seemed determined not to care. No matter what we said." 

"Lot of people like that, too."

Cassian shook his head. "I know that. It just bothered me. That's all."

4. Before the Council Meeting

There was no official announcement, but gossip spread around the base faster than the clap. Andor had come back after weeks out in the stars with something. Something big. Or maybe it was the woman he was hauling around. Or was it one of the strays they'd picked up?

Anyway, it was big enough that they'd called in the Council.

"What's that going to do?" one of Melshi's men grumbled, and he privately agreed. 

Melshi ran Cassian to ground in the datasec room, where he was paging through screens. "What's the project?" he asked, ready to be rebuffed.

"Trying to figure out who's on base," Cassian said. 

"Why?"

He looked up. "We might need to put together a team. Quickly."

"Well, I'm in," Melshi said.

"You don't even know what it is."

He shrugged. "Hasn't stopped me yet. How's the crazy girl? Is our team going to drop her off on some nice safe asteroid somewhere?"

"She's speaking to the council when they get here."

"She," Melshi said. "She's speaking to the council." He'd assumed it would be Draven, with whatever Cassian had brought back. The woman he'd brought back from Wobani hadn't been interested in talking to anybody. 

"Mmhm." He paged through some more screens, brows drawn. He paused, took a note, and paged on. 

"About what?"

He looked up. "Go and see."

The spark behind his eyes was a blaze.

5. After the Council Meeting

The same blaze burned in Jyn Erso's words as she exhorted the Council to do something besides squabbling and doom-saying. It was hard to say which one of them had lit it in the other. 

He was all the way in the back, up against the wall with the other spooks and assassins and saboteurs. The type that the Council didn't like to be reminded existed. Which was fine, because that was where they liked it. 

Melshi looked around the room at who was nodding agreement and who was shaking their head and looking grim, and he knew how it would go in here. He also knew what kind of team Cassian needed.

He glanced around, saw a few of Bravo Team looking at him, and jerked his head toward the door. They followed him out. 

"Andor's getting a team together," he said quietly. "If you're out, that's fine. Won't hold it against you. If you're in, go find anyone else who would be, too."

They scattered. 

It took some searching, but he found Cassian in a storeroom, picking through some boxes for what looked like the most portable weapons, talking on his comm at the same time. 

He hung up and looked at him. "You heard?"

"Yeah." His blood was still chilled at the idea of the Empire with a weapon like that. He went down to check the box. "No, you want these," he said, shoving another one over to him. "They make a lovely boom. Stormtrooper bits all over."

Cassian didn't reach for it. "You still in?"

"More than ever."

"We might not come back. We probably won't come back."

"Keef," Melshi said. "I know. I'm in."

Cassian nodded. 

"Your crazy girl coming with us?" 

"She doesn't know about this. Yet."

"She said that thing you always say. In the meeting."

"What thing?" He checked his messages and nodded to himself, then shot off another one.

"You know the one. About hope."

His hands stilled. He smiled a little. 

+1 In the Shuttle Bay

The team Cassian had scraped together out were clustered in the shuttle bay, getting the details. Some had been in the Council meeting, some hadn't, but everyone knew Cassian, and they all knew he wasn't the kind to go in guns blazing unless there was no other choice. 

Melshi saw Jyn Erso come storming out of the council meeting. He reflexively checked for shovels, then nudged Cassian. "Your girl's here."

He looked over his shoulder to where she was talking to the other strays that had gotten dragged back with them, then turned and started walking toward her. 

Even though the team he'd pulled together was all around him, and their strays were all around her, and the business of the shuttle bay was all around all of them, Cassian Andor and Jyn Erso might have been the only two people in the entire cavernous bay.

"They were never going to believe you," he called out. 

"I appreciate the support," she snarked. 

"I do," Cassian the spy said, simple and true. "I believe you."

Her face went slack with shock, and for the first time it occurred to Melshi to wonder what kind of life she'd had, that her first instinct on getting sprung out of a place like Wobani was to attack her rescuers and try to escape on her own.

Her eyes roved over the team Cassian had brought her as he spoke, more naked truths spilling out of his usually tightly closed lips. His words dug into Melshi's belly, all the ugly realities of the life they lived, and the burning flame of why underneath it. 

She didn't say anything in reply, but the pilot still in his beat-up Imperial uniform did, talking about the practicalities of the shuttle they had to work with. She looked at him, then back at Cassian, with a little smile and the tiniest of nods.

He took that for the agreement it was and dispatched his team - her team, now - with barked orders. 

Melshi looked back as he picked up the carton of grenades he'd recommended in the storeroom. Cassian was standing very close to Jyn, their faces tipped toward each other. It would actually be a little sweet if they weren't all going to almost-certain death.

But when they were inside the shield gate at Scarif, she spoke to them directly. She was no orator. Her words, by themselves, were blunt and a little fatalistic. But it was the flame in her eyes that lent them power.

"We'll find those Death Star plans. We'll find a way to find them."

He believed her, and he could feel the same belief stealing through the veins of all the battle-scarred soldiers in the shuttle with them. 

A dead man's voice whispered in his ears. How long we hang on, how far we get, how many of us make it out, all of that is now up to us.

"We'll take the next chance," Jyn said, "and the next, until we win, or until our chances are spent."

We will never have a better chance than this.

Cassian had always been good at that. Finding a person who could change the tide, who could rouse people to action. Jyn and Kino seemed different on the outside - an angry young woman, a careworn older man - but the blaze in their eyes was the same.  

Ruescott Melshi had been living on borrowed time since the moment his feet had touched the electrified floor of Narkina 5. He'd followed Cassian Andor out of that hell, and now he'd follow him into hell on Scarif.

It felt right that this was how his time would come due.

FINIS

[franciswhetsel]

When it first set sail in 1906, the RMS Fortuna was quite impressive. However, the year is 1912 and she's been eclipsed by ship after ship, until the only people boarding her on transatlantic crossings are the poorest of steerage and those regulars royal to its captain. It's impossible for her to even thihnk of compeating with the newst White Star Line ship.

Marconi operator Isaac Liddell has spent the last three years working the station at Cape Saxon and is excited for his first maritime appointment aboard the RMS Fortuna, regardless of the 18 hour shifts. It's also Ashley Pritchard's first voyage on the ship as its First Officer. He's been fascinated by the new telgregrapy technology, and now is perhaps even more fascinated by the young, squirelly operator that delivers messages to the bridge.

[slutforpringles]

Daniel's car is so squirelly coming out of the slower corners when he's trying to get the power down. Wonder if it's the hard tyres or the car balance changing as the fuel starts to burn off??

[ramonaflow]

Season 11 trailer (x)

[age-of-play-i-say]

Dada! Dada, help pwease!!

What is it, baby? What do you need?

Need weewees, Dada, need it bad!!

Baby . . .I padded you up, you can make potty anywhere. You don't need Daddy until after your wee wee time, go on and get back to your playpen, my little one.

No! Not potties! Needa make special dada weewee!! Need sticky weewees!!!

Ohhh, so that's why you're so squirelly, huh?

*blushing, whimpering, humping the air*

Does my little baby need Daddy's big fingies around your stiff baby willy? You need Daddy to reach into your diapee to rub out those sticky weewees? Yeah?

[linddzz]

Decadence, Hedonism, and Mystery (as she contemplates chewing on my lime)

Decadence vs Hedonism - 2022