#this showis so funny they were so chill about it

[ofdreamsanddoodles]

steph, balancing a knife on her fingers: do you think there's some kind of hallucinogenic on here?

cullen, who had only a few hours ago used said knife to cut himself a slice of cake: you know what, that tracks

[candyheartedchy]

Hi so you like sans, and I'm a massive Undertale fan ;) (it's been my special interest for years and my main self ship is in it as well!)

So I'm gonna write u some romantic headcanons

First off I don't think Sans is a big romantic type, he has low motivation for his relationships in game but he still does try to be a good brother, friend, etc, so I feel as though if he had a crush on someone he'd definitely want to try his best.

And by his best, I mean he'd show up with nothing but his usual outfit and like. A bow tie attached to the (zipped up for show,) part of his hoodie, or his neck.

I also think he'd be willing to try to woo you with corny puns, I think he'd think that making his partner laugh is the best part of his day, or to see them doing.

When he is attached to someone, he flaunts them like crazy.

Example - he constantly talks about how cool his brother is, and talks about how much he is proud and looks up to him. I feel like he'd do that a lot with a partner. Any chance he gets, he'd talk about how amazing you are, and how much he thinks you're the coolest person ever.

I think he'd enjoy the simple things in a romantic relationship more so than the showy stuff. He'd like to go for walks, play board games, relax and watch the stars in waterfall, or offer you to grillbys.

His partner would also be a very big victim to his pranks I'm afraid 😖 even more so than his brother or any friend, he'd want to prank or play with you constantly. Any chance he gets he'd play a little, harmless joke on you.

He'd love seeing you get a little frustrated, he'd find it funny, or cute. But, if you were too frustrated or stressed, he'd definitely tone it down.

I feel like hes the absolute best person to be around when sick. He'd set up the most cozy, relaxing blanket session on the couch and warm up a bowl of soup, and just sit with you on the couch and tell you silly stories about his brother, or talk about something that makes you happy to make you feel better when you're Ill.

I also think he'd love doing cute small things with you, like building snowmen (even though he wouldn't really make one, he'd mostly be admiring yours while drawing on a small pile of snow with a red marker.)

He canonically has an interest in the stars, astronomy, constellation, all that. He'd talk to you about it for hours if you got him too, but I feel like he'd be a little hesitant at first, since he's very often the type of guy to hesitate to talk about himself. Even papyrus complains about him not telling people stuff, so you'd be special if he talked to you about stuff he enjoyed.

He'd be the type of partner to remember the little details... Like your favorite snack in the underground, or your favorite color - and he'd get you small things. Not hard or large effort things, I highly doubt he'd go all out, but he'd still put a lot of effort in, in his own way. He memorized your favorite songs, or little cartoon characters, and gets you merch of it, or comes home with your favorite snack while you're napping or doing something with his little brother :)))

Hope these make u happy I may say more if I think of sum more thoughtssss tehehehehe

ANON I WAS KICKING MY FEET THE WHOLE TIME READING THESE!! THESE HEADCANONS ARE PERFECT!! 💕💕💕

I also see him as being the type who’s very chill in a relationship and even though he probably wouldn’t be the flashy romantic type, he would still have his own subtle ways of showing his partner that he cares 🥺

And thank you so much for sharing these!!! ❤️

[charleezard]

My reactions and opinions on (almost) all songs on the Eurovision final

Sweden was kinda catchy and good. Not anywhere near the best but it was a nice start. Maybe a bit basic. 5/10

2. Ukraine was amazing. It gave me chills, the voices were amazing, the visuals were amazing. 9/10

3. Germany honestly didn't stand out to me. Idk, it wasn't bad exactly, but it also wasn't good? It was kinda just there. 3/10

4. Luxembourg was quite good. While it wasn't one of my faves, it was definitely a solid song and performance. 7/10

5. Yeah, no Netherlands. Keep in mind I only watched the finals and hadn't listened to any of the songs prior to it, so I haven't even heard the song yet. I don't think I will either. ?/10

6. Israel was amazing, Eden has an amazing voice, great stage presence, she looked absolutely etherial. The song conveys all the pain it's supposed to. No doubt my favourite and if I had voted I would have voted for her. 10/10

7. Lithuania, the song wasn't bad, kinda nice to listen to, the performance was also kinda good, but it didn't stand out long term. in fact while making this list i had to rewatch the performance because I remembered nothing of it. So yeah. Extra points for not being a basic english song. 5/10

8. Spain, I have complicated feelings about you. It definitely stood out. Sadly the most forgettable part of it was the singer, which is a very important part. She had presence, and the concept was definitely good and showy, but her voice was meh, a bit weak. I think the backup dancers lowkey carried the performace on their back. Overall, 6/10

9. I straight up did not like Estonia. I'm sorry, no offense. Also one of the guys looked like Michael from VSauce and that was very distracting, but I'm not docking points for that. 2/10

10. I know Ireland had some controversial reactions. BUT. I adored it. I'm sorry I did, it was one of my favourite performances, they did amazing, I have nothing to point out exactly. Idk, 9.5/10.

11. Latvia didn't do much. Kinda boring, forgettable. Maybe it was also not a great idea to put such a lacking performace right after one of the most amazing ones, that might have biased my opinion. 3/10

12. Greece wasn't my style of song but as it went on it kinda grew on me. It was catchy and fun. Not amazing exactly, for me personally, but solid, good. 6/10

13. Ok the UK, listen. I'm biased, because Olly Alexander is the main actor in one of my favourite shows and i think that skewed my view of the song. It was entertaining, fun, nice to watch. Nothing amazing, but good. 6/10

14. Norway, complicated feeling. It looked great, it sounded great, but something was lacking. It felt like they were trying to reach very far but not really getting there? Idk how to explain it. Something was missing from it. 6.5/10

15. Italy was quite good. I've seen people say it wasn't, but I don't see why. I liked it a lot, even tho it wasnt one of my top songs it was still really good. 7/10

16. I'm not sure it was my style, but Serbia still had a very solid song. It was good, and looked beautiful too, and her voice sounds magical. Good vibes. 7/10

17. For Finland... Did I love the song itself? No. Did I love the performance? Yes. I laughed so hard and it was so unique and funny and entertaining. Like, I could just laugh at how silly and random it was and that felt good. 8/10

18. Portugal, listen. You always bring sad fado-sounding songs. It's not that it's bad but people don't care. Get new material. That's boring, bring something fun that gets people smiling and dancing and it's catchy and unique. You're forgettable. Extra points for being my country, and for being Yom Kippur ready with all that white. But damn, I'm not pleased. 4/10

19. Armenia was great. I love when they include unique and personal vibes in these songs. This didn't feel like a boring generic english song. It felt unique, it had so many different and special elements and that made it really stand out to me, and I think they were SEVERELY underrated. 8/10

20. Cyprus was a bit basic and boring. In fact I again had to search for the video because I didn't even know what the Cyprus song was. 2.5/10

21. Switzerland won as we know. At first the song didn't stand out, but I think it's one of those songs that the more you listen the better it gets. Also the vibes? Perfect. Nemo slayed and I'm not upset at all with this win. 8/10

22. Slovenia was good, it was solid. Despite that, it wasn't great, but it had a nice energy to it and I had a good time watching it. 6.5/10

23. Croatia, I had heard rumors they were the favourite to win, and truly they placed first in the public votes. I can see why, they were great and it was very catchy, the energy was contagious and I cannot stop listening to it. Also, it's fun. 9.5/10

24. Georgia had a fun, energetic, powerful sounding song. I appreciated, it was a good listen, but it wasn't amazing, didn't stand out that much. 6.5/10

I didn't have time to watch France and Austria, sadly, because I had to go out, so no ratings there.

Note: I'm rating the songs and performances I watched!! I'm not commenting on personality or actions outside the stage, or some people here would sadly have had much lower scores

[viola-stars]

You ever noticed in the johto games that people mostly blue talk about how weak people from johto are? Well obviously there not wrong, but it spark something interesting, you ever wonder how the gym leaders feel about that? Being rather infamous for being too weak, it could be rather interesting too see how they feel about that.

Hi! I did notice that some people would talk about how weak they are, but I do feel like they could have been massively improved and more interesting if they had a different set of Pokemon! In general, I feel like they'll strive to become tougher!

Also I think that some have become gym leaders only recently [Falkner replaced his dad only recently in the manga, Whitney only got into Pokemon battling recently, Bugsy appears pretty young, Claire seems to not be used to losing, Jasmine still juggles her priorities, etc], so like ofc they have to take this comment with a grain of salt.

I feel like each gym leaders do have a specific reaction to it.

Falkner - From the gym leaders, he's very obviously peeved by this, but he doesn't tend to express it towards others unless he is close to them. He does his best to improve himself, but also he does try to take in the fact he is the first gym leader and he should be considerate of first time trainers.

Bugsy - Tries not to overthink it, but also tries not to take it to heart. I do believe he's more interested to be a professor than a gym leader, so the comments wouldn't affect him as much as it would have affected the others, but he does make it an inspiration for himself to become stronger.

Whitney - Doesn't like that comment. At all. She easily complains about it towards the rest. Funny enough, at least from how most people comment, she's one of the tougher gyms. She does try to make her team better after that comment, after the initial irritation, it turns to a drive to become better.

Morty - Surprisingly chill about it- or well, that's what he wants people to think. He doesn't usually comment about it, but he does listen to the rest who do comment about it. He actually doesn't take it lightly because he's been training for years, so a comment that ridicules him, as a trainer, and the fellow gym leaders actually does somewhat anger him, but he isn't the type to show it.

Chuck - Quite showy, but not in an angry way- it's more of a- "he trains more than usual and you can see him out training even MORE now" kind of showy. Like, he trains so much harder that every gym leader notices it. When asked, he actually laughs about it and says it's an influence for him to become stronger and he doesn't hold a grudge for those comments.

Jasmine - A bit sad over it at first, but she does believe she is doing well for being one of the first known steel gym leaders. However, she has to also take note that she's not only a gym leader, but she also has some other things to take care of, which is also the lighthouse. She does believe she is rather young, so there is a lot of room for improvement!

Pryce - First, he was quite angry at the comment but he was able to calm down after a few days of those comments. It also helped him calm down by seeing how the younger generation did strive to be better- for him, it's only the beginning of Johto becoming a better region since some were just starting as gym leaders! He does believe that as time goes by, he should make his last years of being a gym leader matter more!

Claire - Oh she's angry. Everyone knows she is, and it's visible because of gym leader meetings and how her training tradition seemed even more strict. However, she does become a greater gym leader! She makes people realize she does deserve the eight gym as time goes on.

[innytoes]

jatp + daemon au?

Okay so Luke's daemon Charlie is a wolf. He settles pretty early, and he was still waiting for a growth spurt, so the effect is rather comical. Deep down, he was insecure about it, because while a wolf is totally a badass daemon for the frontman of a rock band, shouldn't he have been more musical? Maybe a bird of some kind?

Reggie takes one look at his daemon after she's settled and nods firmly. "Makes sense," he says. "When wolves sing, it's all about connection." Reggie watches a lot of nature documentaries. He and his daemon Ellie love trying out all the new animals they learn about.

(Ellie is short for Eleanor, because Short Names That Are Secretly Old People Names Solidarity.)

Ellie spends a lot of time as a husky after Luke just settled, and it's kind of funny to see the difference between dog-and-wolf. Ellie and Charlie play fight a lot and when they curl up together it's hard to tell where one begins and the other ends.

(Sunset Curve's daemons were always very touchy with each other, but then, so were the boys themselves. It wasn't weird to see a post-rehearsal cuddle pile on both the sofa and the floor in front of it.)

Ellie eventually settles as a border collie, and Reggie is so happy. She’s the perfect size for cuddling with and it just feels right. (They wear matching red bandanas when they’re doing country-music together.)

Listen I took the daemon quiz twice for Alex because I was stumped and both times it landed on antelope. Alex has a fucking dik-dik and if you make him feel bad about it Charlie will threaten to eat you.

Aria the dik-dik loves to just chill right in front of the base drum, she likes the vibrations. 

Yes the visual of Tol Alex,Tiny Daemon + Smol Luke, Giant Daemon is very funny and when they’re all together sometimes people first assume Charlie belongs to Alex and then they meet him and are like: nope that wolf is 100% not yours. 

Julie’s daemon is a songbird named Bramble and after her mom died it didn’t speak at all for like a year. Not even to Julie. Bramble had only just started talking to Julie and Flynn again when she got kicked out of the music program.

Bramble is the one who finds the CD and suggests they put it on.

Willie has something super cool like an iguana. Just imagine the visual of Willie and Alex flirting when they meet but with a giant lizard perched on Willie’s shoulder, wearing shades. His name is Throckmorton because I am NEVER LETTING THAT JOKE GO.

Caleb has a black panther because sleek and fancy and showy and powerful and the horrifying mental image of it with its jaws around other ghosts’ daemon.

(Don’t think about ‘he owns my soul’ don’t think about Caleb threatening Willie with not being allowed to skate the streets of Hollywood don’t think about if you piss him off he locks your daemon up in a small room at the HGC and if he’s really mad you still have to perform, all the while aching from being so far away from your soul.)

Imagine after the Orpheum when Julie is begging the guys to save themselves and right before the hug, Bramble and Charlie figure out they can touch each other.

send me an au (and/or pairing) and i’ll give you 5+ headcanons about it

[the-13th-rose]

Asmodeus for the acrostics game!

Acrostics f/o asks

Thanks for asking! Answer's under the cut since these ones run longer than usual

A - Art - Do they draw or paint? What about any other kind of art? What's their favorite style/subject/another artist who inspires them?

So aside from singing, Ozzie also designs various things, mostly clothes and uh. Sexbots. But that's a form of art and he's damn good at it.

S - Story - If you and them were in a fairytale, which story would you be and who would play which character?

So partially because his VA has also played the Genie, but my ship with Ozzie gives me Aladdin vibes. Accidentally summoning him as a genie but instead of using my wishes to win the heart of a princess I'm just like "actually the genie's kinda fine. Do you think he likes petite curvy brunettes?"

M - What was your first time meeting them?

My s/i for Helluva Boss is legit dead. Lol. She gets isekai'd and winds up in the Lust Ring because Ozzie likes her monstery erotica and wants to see what else she can do with his input. Their first meeting is him welcoming her to Hell and her just passing the fuck out because she's so shocked.

I'm not sure how we would have first met outside of that verse. Part of me wants to say "I was so confused by my weird sexuality that I straight up summoned the demon prince of lust for advice and he thought I was cute so we started dating". That seems interesting enough.

O - Online - What is your f/o's social media presence like, or what would it be like if they had internet in their world/era?

So. Many. Thirst traps. This man has actual hundreds of millions of followers and he got them mostly by being an absolute sex icon, a killer performer on the stage/pole and killer with his voice, and occasionally being funny also. He's known for usually being pretty chill except for when people try to start shit, then it's roasting time. And Fizz is always eager to jump in.

D - Danger - Which of you is more likely to get into trouble? How well does your f/o handle danger?

I guess I'm more likely to get into trouble since I don't get the rules as well and am less powerful so there's less I can get away with. I wouldn't say he handles danger well when it's something powerful enough to pose a threat to him, because he's not really a fighter. He gets by mostly by just being too powerful a demon for most stuff to be able to actually hurt him.

E - Emotion - Is your f/o open with their feelings or do they keep them close to their chest?

Well if we're talking horniness, yes, absolutely he's open about that. If we're talking some other emotions, not so much. He makes it pretty clear when he's ticked off or unhappy, and when he's happy as well. But he's very private about being upset and refuses to ever admit to feeling romantic. He can't always restrain himself from mushy PDA with his partners but if ever caught snuggling or tenderly kissing, he's quick to deny everything.

U - Uplift - How do they help you when you're stressed or sad and vice versa?

So having bird traits means he tends to use gifts when trying to cheer up a partner, but he'll also often give them a lil show. If me or Fizz are really truly upset though, he drops the showy stuff and gets very sweet and affectionate. He knows when to keep it light and he knows when to hold you tight and say "It's gonna be okay". Usually when he needs cheering up, we'll do the same things.

S

[hanamiyaaaa]

ONE PIECE HCs: Jealousy Headcanons

This has been done over and over and over and oveeeer again, but here *pushes hcs towards everyone* please have them!! Also, I missed writing stuff huhu. I tried my best so I hope you like them!! 

Monkey D. Luffy

Pre-TS Luffy would be jealous whenever he noticed that you're paying more attention to something/somebody else. He'd jump right into your bubble and do stupid stuff so that he could be the most interesting person in your life again. Like a little kid, his jealousy is harmless. He'd be upset for a while, but once you’ve you given him what he wanted, he'd be smiling again and would leave you in peace. Lucky for you, Pre-TS Luffy is pure and easily distracted so you probably could handle him quite easily. This is mostly cute, but probably could get real annoying especially because you’re not allowed to pull the exact same shit on him. He’d be annoyed lol. Pre-TS Luffy is a child, definitely not yet mentally and emotionally ready for a relationship.

Post-TS Luffy is a whole level different. Even though he's still our bhabie, he matured and has calmed down. He won't be jealous over something like you talking to somebody else, or you reading a book (than watching him run around) anymore. He probably wouldn't be even feel threatened when you get close to other guys. He just have so much trust on you that you cheating on him wouldn’t cross his mind. But, of course, he has his limits. You're his. You swore, you promised to be only his so when other people start getting a little bit too touchy and you’re allowing it, he would snatch you away and he’d make sure that the fact that you're his s/o is known. There would be arguments, but he wouldn't be upset for that long. If you tried to make him jealous, you can just apologize and he'd accept it but wouldn't get why you'd want him to get jealous. 

Roronoa Zoro

Despite being known to be straightforward, Jealous!Zoro is probably going to be the one to give you the cold shoulder/silent treatment mostly because he tends to bottle up stupid feelings like these. He'd try to be chill about it, but seeing you way too friendly with swirly brows (or someone he doesn’t like) will get him worked up but since he doesn't to appear like a pathetic loser in front his you and the others, he'd be like 'meh i'm cool yo'. BUT NO, HE'S NOT. He wouldn't be able to completely hide the feelings of scorn and envy. No matter how hard he tries to hide it, his irritation will bleed through his exterior in the form of spicy words, sarcasm and silence that would initiate arguments. Since he's already frustrated, things would heat up right away and the whole thing would just explode into a full blown fight whether it's in a form of verbal exchange or uncomfortable silence.

Making up is casual? It's weird because no one needs to apologize. Zoro would just walk up to you and start a conversation, and he'd know that you guys are okay if you properly replied to him, and vice versa. It's usually Zoro who'd break the ice first, regardless of the who was in the wrong, but just know that it wouldn't be anything like "I'm sorry about earlier," but be more like "Do we have still have sake around?". It's not like he'd never apologize verbally, though. He just saves it for things that are actually meant apologizing for (petty, childish fights don't qualify).

Yellow ranger Vinsmoke Sanji

Okay. So, we can all agree that this one would be the most jealous out of these four, yes? Sanji's basically like Pre-TS Luffy but a tad more reasonable. He wouldn't get mad if you indulge in your hobby more than you spend time with him, but he would get upset if you talked too much or acted too friendly with other men. Unlike the marimo, he'd be open about his feelings. He'd rush to your side right away, take you away and let the other guy know that you're taken by him. He'd be very clingy to you and would be showy as well. Definitely, he's not embarrassed to hold you in public and he's also not afraid to do more than shoot daggers at people who looks at you funny (sometimes it's just Sanji's imagination really). Most of the time, he'd be angry at those people but when it comes to you, he'd just be sad and disappointed at most, which only ever happens if he figured out you made him jealous on purpose ...or not, if you're the 'polite' type who flirts back unknowingly or something like that idk. He'd never treat you the way he treats those garbage trying to get your attention like ever.

If a fight broke out between the two of you, Sanji would always be the one to apologize first, usually accompanied with gifts like flowers and jewelry. He'd make up to you even though he's not at fault. You're the most important person in his life and he'd be willing to swallow his every ounce of pride for you. Sanji definitely is that one friend of ours who we give advise about his toxic love life but doesn't ever listen or that one friend who gets back with his ex after a pathetic apology lol. He's just like that so please take care of this baby.

Usopp

Usopp probably thinks he's no good for you. I feel like he's filled with insecurities which he hides beneath his jolly exterior; these insecurities blind him from seeing his worth causing him to feel undeserving of you. Usopp is strong; he's got his own game and he plays it real good, unfortunately butterflies don't see their own wings. Like any other man, he'd get jealous if he sees you being questionably chummy with some other guy who he views as a much better fit for you. He'd actually be really sensitive about it, and the one who's prone to overthink. He won't get upset, but he'd get really sad. He'd laugh it off, shrug it off but it's not like it's your fault if you find someone else interesting right? Despite being known as a liar, I don't think he'd be able to hide his feelings from you completely, but he wouldn't voice them out either. However, you'd easily see through him. You'd have to be the one to bring this up because Usopp would never do it. I mean he probably would try but he'd be like "You know this guy you were talking to... uhh well, umm nevermind haha," and yeet himself out of that awkward situation. But even when you confront him, he'd initially play it cool but you know that it's not okay- he's not okay.

He wouldn't argue with you about this matter even if you try to lure him into one. He'd probably be irritated if you continued to push this topic, but sometimes insisting to talk about it might be the best choice even if it hurt the both of you. After all, Usopp can't always run away from his feelings and insecurities. He'd want to apologize first, but there would be moments where you both do it at the same time and it's just the cutest and probably the calmest way to end an argument right? He'd need reassurance from time to time so make sure to be patient with him okay? He'd be more confident in time just trust him and don’t stop loving him!!

[mercurytrinemoon]

the funny thing about a Sagittarius-Aquarius dynamic and the inner battle of sharing both energies in a natal chart

*this was sitting in my drafts lol*

People often say that Sadges and Aquas are one of the best (if not the best) pairings of all the signs. And every time I hear that, I'm thinking laughing, well looks like as a Sagittarius Sun Aqua rising, I'm the best match for myself... Because as I often mention, as far as I love Aquarius Suns to bits, I am never again getting involved with one on something more than a platonic level (and if I ever do, I gave you my permission to slap me in the face).

But don't fret Aquas, we're still best buds.

It's because while both signs are open-minded, freedom-loving and rather social & outgoing types, there are some VERY clear distinctions between them. Both signs are about the ideas and the big picture - and this is where the air fuels fire. But the ways in which they express them differ from each other. Their language is pretty contrasting in general. Aquarius has the tendency to close off & detach itself... whether it's emotionally or physically or both. They're often too much in their heads. While Sagittarius is very straight-forward, to the point (we're known for our bluntness aftre all) and even tho, yes, Sadges need their space, at the same time, as a fire sign, we're still very affectionate, warm or even showy.

Both Sagittarius and Aquarius have a reputation of being hard to pin down. Or being so much in their thoughts, preoccupied by what is going around them, that they forget to respond to your text. Except: at the end of the day, all a Sadge wants is honesty. It's easy to tell where we stand. If we show or, better yet, just straight up tell someone that we like them, then be sure it's true, even if we may be on-and-off sometimes.

Then there's Aquarius, scared of its own emotions, not to mention, scared of showing them. HOW many times I've heard a story of an Aquarius that acted as if they literally didn't even like the person they were interested in *face palm*. Aquas are known for caring SO MUCH for the humanity yet they often forget to show the same care for the people around them. They're always chill about that... but in a way that gives off "I don't care" vibes. And then, having Sun in its fall, they are pros at having bruised ego issues. Talking it out is not an option for them and this is where their aloof attitude comes in. And there goes their honest approach... or rather, their lack of it.

Now, I can't stress this enough but you should always take the entire chart into consideration and with that being said, I'm talking about Sun signs here, but I like to look at the Sun as a canvas for the rest of the planetary energies in a chart. It's the underlying tone of all the other stuff. An Aquarius Sun will always have its specific aquarian quirks even if they have a Capricorn stellium for example.

So, expanding on that more...

This obviously applies to the dynamic between two people but I even notice that conflict within myself. Being an Aquarius rising is very much a part of my character and, as I always say, your ascendant is NOT a mask you put on. But I often find myself being stuck in that Aquarius mode and having issues getting past it. Remember, Sun is your core, it's where your inner light is, it's where you feel most comfortable. Then additionally, in my case, I have my Sun on the midheaven so, naturally, I want to have my "true identity" on display. So sometimes that too-cool-for-you, friendly-but-barely-brushing-the-surface-with-its-airy-nature, blink-twice-and-I'm-onto-the-next-thing Aquarius nature is SO NOT what my overly excited, joke-cracking, "let's go grab some food and explore the city RIGHT NOW even tho I just met you" Sagittarius heart wants. Like it's funny to think about it but I really do find myself being torn between those two modes sometimes. So yeah, as much as my chart is pretty simple & straighforward (mainly fire and air) and there's not much, if any, contradictions within it, I still have that smol (but annoying) identity crisis about it.

This shows something that many people get wrong and it's that there's no "perfect matches". Sure, signs that are making a sextile or a trine to each other will have more in common than, let's say, signs that are neighbouring. Seemingly. Because each sign is different and as much as they may be similar, they all have things about them that are polar opposites. Even those that are textbook "compatible".

[prurientpuddlejumper]

Guerrerita

Part 2 ->

Summary: Nevada takes you out on a fancy date and things go poorly.

Nevada Ramirez x Feral Female Reader

Warnings: allusions to domestic violence but no actual domestic violence, just some assumptions based on Nevada being generally an asshole.  A bit of regular violence though. (OK, you know that trope where the Honorable Tough Guy beats up a stranger’s abusive husband to teach him a lesson?) Mature content, but no smut this chapter.

1,796 words

While most people would consider a romantic dinner at a sophisticated restaurant relaxing, everything about it had you on edge. It was too fancy for you to belong there, even in the elegant dress Nevada bought for you. The dress was too form-fitting, too low-cut. It made your cleavage look ample, and though you were getting accustomed to wearing such pieces in your new employment, your confidence in the feminine was still lacking.

You hunkered low in your seat, trying to be as small as possible so no one would look at you. Of course your nervous fidgeting only made them look more.

Not helping matters was your date, sitting across from you at the small, intimate dining table. Nevada Ramirez cocked his brow sarcastically as he made an inappropriately sexual comment about the aforementioned dress, and the aforementioned way your breasts looked in it.

“It’s almost distracting enough that you don’t notice the—” he gestured at your face with a mocking smirk, and laughed almost cruelly as he saw your eyes flash wide. 

Your jaw clenched and you thought of a million biting comebacks you could shoot at him, and briefly envisioned flipping over the table and decking him, but instead you shrunk further in your chair.

“Come on, guerrerita, don’t be like that,” he frowned. He seemed genuinely upset that you were shriveling instead of being riled into taking his bait.

Never in a million years would you have imagined yourself with an asshole like Nevada. Vulgar, loud, rough around the edges. A gang leader who earned the nickname of a ruthless dictator. But your life had been in a downward spiral, and Trujillo found you at the bottom of it. He recruited you into the crime family, and gave you a purpose when everything in your law-abiding life was falling apart.

It was a recent development that you’d admitted your feelings for each other, and until now your relationship (outside of work) had been limited to passionate, desperate, intense sex. Fucking Trujillo was like fucking the illegal fireworks he sold, but this was the first time you’d allowed yourself to be seen out in public with him—in decent company, anyway.

He’d insisted on taking you out to celebrate with something nice, just the two of you. None of his men lurking over your shoulders. Something he thought you’d want, even though all you wanted was to go back to the Heights and rip his clothing off. Now you were too pissed off and embarrassed to even want to fuck him.

You thought he might tone himself down for the upscale venue, but Vada had been his usual obnoxious self all night, and more genteel diners were glaring. Honestly, this was why you couldn’t stand him at first, even though he was incredibly handsome. But his boorish exterior belied a cunning, organized businessman who had all of Washington Heights under his thumb, who earned his community’s loyalty through fear, yes, but ultimately, by taking care of them. There was, underneath the showy performances of flippant laughter and casual brutality, a certain sensitivity you had grown keenly protective of. 

He saw the value in things others overlooked. He recognized all the anger and pain stamped inside you behind those mild suburban manners—things polite society considered flaws—and told you that you were exactly what he needed. That those things were an asset to him. That you were valuable. 

No one ever said that to you before. 

You weren’t in love with him. He would always be a ruthless criminal, and one day you’d want your normal life back. But you had grown… attached.

One of the glaring diners was eyeing Nevada with particular suspicion, not just briefly glancing up when he laughed too loud or made a rude remark to the waiter. He shot Vada a profoundly dirty look and held it long enough to raise your hackles. He sat at the bar about four table lengths away, had shoulder-length hair, a messy stubble beard, and a solid physical build. You would have mistaken him for a surfer except you were on the wrong coast, and your instincts told you he was dangerous. You quietly assessed the potential threat while maintaining your meek posture low in the chair. A cop? Or a rival gang leader? Unlikely to make a move inside the restaurant with so many witnesses. You’d watch the exits when it was time for the check.

The waiter brought the main course to the table, and blessedly, digging into a meal finally shut up Nevada’s feisty tongue. Instead of sleazy remarks, he made small-talk about how good everything tasted. Maybe it wasn’t just having his mouth stuffed that mellowed him. There was a softness in his eyes now—a look reserved for when you were alone together, when he knew something was bothering you. You guessed he finally caught on that you were not having a good time.

Nevada never took anything seriously, until suddenly he did. You’d seen him throw opponents off balance by dropping from sardonic laughter to spine-chilling hostility, and the effect was equally potent when he dropped into affection.

His foot bumped into your leg—those shiny black leather shoes that looked like someone cut off a tacky cowboy boot at the ankle—and slowly brushed against it under the table. It wasn’t an aggressively sexual maneuver, just an affectionate contact letting you know he was there. It worked. You lanced a slice of filet mignon on your fork, and felt your shoulders relax with his change in attitude. It was a simple gesture, but the warmth of his leg spread tingling waves through your skin, making your face flush. A private, intimate moment, like a sharing secret. That was the most thrilling part of the relationship, really—the secret that the fearsome Trujillo had a tender side. In a way, you were like two opposite halves that fit together perfectly.

Before long, you were comfortable enough to start gushing about the day’s victory you were there to celebrate, and the staring stranger had slipped entirely from your mind.

***

You excused yourself to use the bathroom, and as you washed your hands in the mirror, you got a good look your swollen black eye. You’d taken a glove to the face hard, but it opened your opponent’s guard and let you hit them back harder until they went down, and you walked away with prize money from the biggest tournament you’d ever won. Nevada was so turned on by your aggression, it took all his willpower not to barge into the locker room and fuck you right then and there. Instead, he treated you to dinner at a nice place like a gentleman, which was a very sweet, if misguided effort.

The bruise had spread and darkened in the hours since you received it, and your makeup no longer did anything to hide it. And there you were all innocent, in a cute little dress, slouching nervously across from a character from Breaking Bad. Oh fuck, no wonder everyone was giving him dirty looks.

An icy fist clenched around your heart as you remembered surfer-hair sitting at the bar, and you suddenly didn’t feel right about leaving Nevada unguarded. You shook the water off your hands and rushed back out into the dining area.

You were just being paranoid, of course. No one would start a fight in the middle of the restau—

Fuck.

Your table was empty. And so was that spot at the bar.

Worst-case scenarios ran through your head and your field of vision narrowed. A waiter hurried past with a tray of dirty dishes and you grabbed him by the arm hard enough for several plates to go flying as you whipped him around. “Did you see where the man at that table went?!” you demanded, pointing.

Indignant protests died half-formed on the surprised waiter’s lips and turned to terror at your intensity. “I-I think he went out to smoke! The side door!”

You dropped his arm without a thank you and marched with purpose to the door, which pushed open into a dim back alley.

“If you ever lay a hand on her again—” surfer-hair was snarling, pinning Nevada against the side of a metal dumpster, fist raised about to strike. 

Nevada’s lip was bleeding, but he wore a cocky grin, letting fly a string of filthy Spanish expletives. 

“You think it’s funny beating on a helpless girl? Let’s see how you like it.”

Nevada was scrappy, but not especially large. He’d gotten in a few hits, but was losing, badly. He was more the brains of his criminal operation, which was why he was always accompanied by protection. And now you were seeing red.

The man got off another punch to Nevada’s smirking face before you could reach them, the dull impact unlocking a boiling rage that rose in your blood and turned you into someone you wouldn’t recognize once the heat had passed. As he reared back for another, you used his momentum to keep him sailing backwards, off balance. 

“DON’T YOU”—you kicked him in the chest, staggering him back—“FUCKING TOUCH HIM!” you roared. 

Carrying forward on the momentum of the kick, you threw your entire body into punch after brutal punch, hissing and snarling like an animal, driving him back and down, your primal fury relishing the sensation of fists slamming into solid flesh and bone. You were going to break this fucker for daring to hurt Trujillo. “I will kill you! I will kill you!” you screamed, thrashing him in a relentless onslaught that never gave him an opening to regain his footing. The man might have given a better showing, but he was still recovering from the shock of being beaten senseless by a demon he had assumed was a fragile soul in need of rescuing.

You felt a hand grasp your shoulder and threw a vicious elbow, stopping yourself inches before seeing whose nose it was you were about to shatter. “Princesa, princesa—calmate. Tranquila, baby girl…” he cooed, pulling you off.

“I’ll fucking kill you!” you kept shrieking, legs and arms kicking out at the air, trying to continue raining blows down on your enemy as Nevada restrained you. You struggled against Nevada’s arms, your hammering pulse chanting murder in your ear, but never striking a blow against him. Even in a blind rage, your instincts recognized he was yours to protect.

In the way his long fingers gripped you, the rhythm of his breath in your ear, and how close he held his body firm against you, he was clearly turned on. 

He cackled at the would-be do-gooder. “You don’t wanna mess with an MMA champ’s boyfriend, comemierda. I don’t think she’s kidding! Better run while you can.”

“Alright, alright, Jesus fucking Christ,” he muttered, guarding his face. “Who the hell are you people?”

Nevada’s smile could have split his face in two. “She’s my bodyguard.”

[pastellhunny]

•Under the Red Sky•

Chapter 1. The Introduction

Alastor walked mindlessly down the side walk of a crimson world with an everlasting smile upon his lips. His golden yellow teeth sharp as razors always glaring at passerby's. With all the killing he could do Alastor found himself to be quite bored with things nothing that interesting has happened besides his normal day to day things like talking to Rosie and laughing about the other low life's flooding into hell. That's the thing though instead of evil and tormented petrified souls coming to the place they belong in they're getting fished out like side dishes at an all you can eat buffet. The yearly purge or "cleanse" as it's called due to overcrowding flushes out hundreds upon hundreds of demons every 666 days. Alastors smile stretched as he remembered that the all mighty god and his children orchestrate this event. "How pitiful" Alastor thought to himself. A God who destroys his own misbehaved children by having his well behaved children wipe them out of existence. Ironic maybe..

Alastors thoughts were interrupted by the sound of static and a female voice singing, an annoying sound to him at most, the tv static not the singing. Thanks to his "pal" Vox just hearing the incoherent noises a tv makes in it's void of connection makes him wretch. But still with a smile on his face he turned to the source. Almost instantly demons crowded around the class that guarded the tvs. A flicker of intrigue shined through the red demons florescent eyes as he looked on at the screens. A closer look was indeed needed as the princess of hell herself was beaming upon the screens. Alastor stepped forward his presence alone sent chills down the other demons spines as they swiftly moved away from the radio demon. On the screen the princess of hell seemed to have been promoting that new hotel that was built. yet she was singing about a "happy hotel?" Alastor laughed to himself, "What and absolute sham.." Yet Alastor couldn't shake the feeling of interest the young demoness sparked within him. He certainly couldn't resist after a quite hilarious fight broke out between the princess and one of the demon news reporters. "Oh what a nasty brawl wish i were there in person to see!" Alastor yet again laughed to himself, his mind was made up and his boredom seemed to be quenched, it had found its next source.

Charlie returned back to the hotel which in a sense was her home. Well especially since she lived there after all. After a sh!t show that was the news broadcasts only meant to promote he hotel she felt quite terrible. An overbearing feeling of dread filled her as she suspected her fathers words to be true. Vaggie and Angel were getting into it so charlie just slipped out the front door to make a quick call to her mother. Not that her mother would return it, it just felt nice to at least pretend like someone was listening to her.

Little did she know someone was listening to her. Alastor had arrived at just the right time to see a gleam of dispair shine through the usual happy and giddy princess. A side he figured lingered within her like everyone else but seeing a lady cry never made Alastor happy. Alastor stood proper and prim as he made his way over to the damsel in distress only to have her turn and shut the door on his nose as soon as he reached out to tap her on the shoulder.

Charlie walked back inside and closed the door but not a second later a knock came to the door with the sound of radio static outside. Charlie's eyes widened as she carefully reached for the and opened it to reveal a demon in a red suit and color scheme.

"Hell-" the door closed but charlie's opened it again to make sure what she saw was real.

"lo!-" she closed it again.

"Oh god." she said aloud to herself. She opened the door slowly this time and peered her head around it carefully.

"May i speak now?" the Radio demon said as his smile widened. His eyes lowered to her soft rosy cheeks. "what a sight" Alastor thought.

"Um you may but can i ask are you here to be redeemed?" Charlie asked with a glint of hope and a little smile on her face.

Alastor noticed this little smile it made his eyes soften for a moment before he went back to his usual demeanor. He opened the door with a burst of energy letting himself in. "HAHAHhaha, no ofcourse not my dear!"

Charlie was a bit bewildered, "Then why are you here? Please if you've come to mock me you can let yourself out i know you've probably seen the news anyway." Charlie said as she gestured towards the door with a bit of sadness in her voice.

"What? No ofcourse i don't want to mock you my dear! Why that show was quite entertaining and it's just what i was looking for!" Alastor beamed as he projected his voice enough for the other patrons, aka Angel and Vaggie, to hear.

"Oh yeah and what's that?" Charlie asked referring to what he was searching for.

"Why something to cure my boredom you devilish girl!~" Alastor said whilst spinning round charlie and ending with an arm around her shoulder and his face awfully close to hers

Charlie blushed at the sudden closeness and creeped her way back to her own little bubble. "So you're gonna help with the hotel just cause you're bored?"

"Precisely! Let's call this investment for my entertainment." Al said with a big showy smile on his face once again leaning down to meet charlie's gaze and popping her little personal bubble of space. "I want to watch the scum of the earth and all sinners alike climb the ladder of redemption only to fall back down in the firery pit of failure" Al finished with a red glow in his eyes along with an amused expression at the very thought of it.

"Um Yeah." Charlie brushes off nervously. Just then the other patrons, aka Vaggie and Angel come scurrying you're see who the new person was.

"Oh hey guys." Charlie said with a nervous smile as the tall red demon loomed over her and stared at the other patrons with a sickening smile.

"Oh charlie tell me you did not just make a deal with the radio demon!?" Vaggie blurred out as she drew her spear and pointed it at Al.

"No no relax Vaggie i didn't make any-"

"Unless you'd like to make a deal my dear!" Al quickly proposed as his brow furrowed and his smile widened.

"NO no no deals! Okay?" if charlie knew anything it was to not make any deals with a demon let alone the radio demon himself.

Angel piped in with a little giggle, "What? you scared of this guy. He looks like a strawberry pimp HA!"

Vaggie slapped Angel on one of his arms, "Show some respect he could kill us in the blink of an eye." she said quietly as she gritted her teeth.

A little rumble of static sifted its way through the air around Alastor not before stopping the moment Charlie turn to Al suspiciously.

"Okay so no deals but by the power and status invested in me i hear by ask you to stay and aid the hotel.. for as long as you'd like... and no tricks or voodoo magic or anything got it." Charlie finished as she eyed Alastor up and down.

"You have my word my dear." Al said with an unusually more sinister smile than before. Little did Charlie know his shadow had its claws crossed. Al stood confident as he forged an idea of what exactly he could obtain from this little adventure with the princess. His smile grew ever so widely, his pupils small he had somewhat of a deranged look in his eyes as he realized what he really wanted to do. He laughed to himself quietly as Vaggie and Charlie talked back and forth about their situation. "Those angels will get what they deserve and so will the big man upstairs." and with that thought Al stepped forward and swooped his arm around Charlie as he pulled her forward and away from Vaggie. "Now come my dear enough of this senseless bickering its time to do business!"

(So the rest just follows in suit to what happens in the pilot, like Alastor bringing Nifty and Husk into the whole ordeal.)(to note Charlie and Vaggie are not together in this au but still are really close friends)

A few weeks have passed since Alastor joined the gang. No other demon has showed up to the hotel other than to maybe throw food or make fun of the mere idea of the hotel. Funny thing is even if Alastor has no care for the cause he still scared the living daylights out of anyone trying to tarnesh the hotel and its name. On the outside could be mistaken for Alastors boredom getting the better of him, afterall demon hunting was a fun hobby of his. Yet perhaps it was something deeper than that that kept him around going out of his way to do things for the hotel. Besides what Alastor was plotting, the hotel was rather enjoyable especially when the princess would be around him. He did enjoy her company though and found himself to do things in her favor. Maybe just to please her to get closer to her and his goal or rather something else. Alastor shook away his thoughts when he saw the young princess scurrying around like a madman. "What is she up to?"

Al snuck up behind Charlie as she fumbled around with books looking to be some sort of old phone books.

"My dear may i ask what you're doing?" Alastor said whilst leaning over with a curious grin on his face.

Charlie jumped in surprise, "Oh god you scared me Al"

Al huh a new nickname for him but he didn't appose to the sudden change. He kinda liked how comfortable she was getting.

"I'm just uh sorting through some old phone books to see if i can rent out a place for the hotel" Charlie said as she flipped through pages.

"Space? Don't we have enough of that here! haha" Alastor joked while he spun and gestured to the wide open space of the main area.

"Yes but it's not preferable for dancing." Charlie laughed with a little smile.

A sudden radio blip crackled through Alastor.

Charlie thought to herself "Did that startled him?"

"Dancing? DANCING? Why my dear no need to waste money this room exact is perfect for a ball. Why i'll have this place ready in no time for you my dear-"

Charlie jumped up and put her arms on Als shoulder for just a second then retracted them a little out of fear but just to calm him down. "Hey, hey that's okay look i know we have plenty of room i just don't want the hotel trashed by people who don't even care about it."

Al noticed the sudden jerk of her arms when they retreated. Another blip cracked through him with a little static as he tilted his head to the side with a smile. For a moment Charlie mistook it for sadness in his smile but when she looked again it was gone and back to its normal sinister self.

Alastor hummed in response then took up a few books.

"Hey i need those?" Charlie said with a confused look on her face.

Angel who was passed out at the bar awoke to a giant book being slammed next to his face.

"AGHHHHHHH jeez what'd you do that for smiles?!" Angel cried as he jumped up from his nap.

"Hey you insulant porn star help Charlie look for a dance room or so help me." Alastor threatened as static loomed around him and radio cracks and blips seemed through but this was to no avail.

"Yes sir, i like it when you take charge~" Angel commented with a perverted joke as always and a wide smug smile present on his face.

Alastor pretended he didn't hear that and reluctantly went over to Vaggie. Him and Vaggie haven't gotten along in the slightest since his arrival at the hotel. He glared at her as he handed her the book, Vaggie sneered at him as she took the book from his grasp. And with that Al gave a book to both Husk and Nifty and had the whole hotel staff searching for a place.

⎯

part 2 part 3

[princesstadashi]

A Post for Newbie Ren Faire Goers!

So, provided this god awful virus doesn’t shut them all down, it’s about ren faire season, at least for me and probably for some other people! And today at work I had this flashback to when I first started regularly going to faire, and man, was I confused about a lot of things--and I realized that maybe this would be a good time for me to make a post for others who are getting ready to visit their first Ren faire, or who are familiar with Ren faires but might still have questions and want to learn more. If you’re ready, let’s dive into this!

What the heck is a mug strap? It may sound random, and you may have never even heard of a mug strap, but this is actually one of the first questions I had about ren faires because it was something so many people were asking me if I had, so let me explain: It is a piece of leather that has two loops (at least one of which can come open), one loop to go around your belt and the other one (for sure the one that comes open) which can go around the handle of a mug or other drinking vessel for ease of carrying it! Which brings me to my second question:

Why are there so many shops selling wooden mugs (and other similar items?) This is because it is very, very important to stay hydrated at faire, especially when the weather is warm outside! A mug is an easy way to hold your drink of choice, and the mug strap mentioned above means you don’t have to carry it in your hands once you’re finished drinking! At least my local Ren faire has drink stations with water and gatorade for season pass holders, and even if yours doesn’t there are always water fountains! Do you need a mug to attend a Ren faire? Definitely not! But they’re pretty darn useful if you plan to go regularly instead of constantly buying bottled drinks, plus they look pretty cool!

What is “the cast”? The people hired by the Ren faire to play characters, you’ll usually see them walking around in the streets (or “lanes”) and performing in shows and events!

What the heck is “garb”? To put it in very simplified terms, it’s the old-timey clothes or “costumes” that you’ll see people wearing :)

(More below the cut!)

Is garb or any sort of costume necessary? No, absolutely not! Plenty of people go in regular clothes! But it is fun to get dressed up :) And you don’t have to have a full costume straight off--that stuff is expensive, so it’s okay if you need to build it up over time if you want to do that--all that matters is that you’re having fun and getting into the spirit of things! Back to not dressing up: Again, it is totally fine if you want to wear regular street clothes, and a lot of the cast will probably have fun asking about your “outlandish outfit” and any modern devices that you have with you! HOWEVER. I hate that I have to say this, but I do: if you don’t choose to wear garb, don’t be a dick to the people who are wearing it. Usually everyone is very chill, and of course some of the cast members will be wearing costumes that are meant to be very showy. But especially with regards to fellow guests: don’t treat them as part of the “spectacle” or like they’re animals in a zoo: basically just don’t stare, don’t treat them like they’re weird for dressing up no matter their age, and remember that they’re just people wanting to have a good time like you, they just want to look totally badass doing it!

So is it not okay to talk to people about their costumes or to ask them for pictures? Please, as long as you’re being polite, feel free to ask--many people like me feel like the reward of all the work we put into our garb is compliments and people asking for pictures! But use common courtesy: if someone seems uncomfortable with you talking to them, just leave them be. And always ask before taking a picture! You might see some photographers taking candid shots, but most of those people are professionals and have gotten permission to be doing that. General rule of thumb is just treat people like you would want to be treated!

I see a lot of people being very flirty/touchy feely/etc. with each other, am I allowed to do that? So here’s the thing about Ren Faires: especially the cast, we tend to all be very open with each other and let loose a bit in a safe space. And a lot of stuff like that that you’ll be seeing is between people who already know each other and are comfortable with each other, even if we might not be acting like that if we’re in character. Now does that mean no flirting is allowed? Totally not! But just like in any other social setting, use common sense: see if the other person is comfortable with it, and if not respect that and back off. Simple as that. Also please keep especially in mind with the cast that this is a paying job for them so while they have a lot more freedom than a regular customer service job, it is still in a way customer service, so they can’t be super rude to you if you’re making them uncomfortable. But also keep in mind that there is security and no one is afraid to call security on you if you’re being inappropriate with anyone, and they will escort you out.

Is that sword (or other weapon) really sharp? At least in my experience, no--for safety reasons, most weapons are blunted--they’re still heavy so they can absolutely do damage as a bludgeon, but everyone tries to avoid more injuries than necessary. 

Can I hold that sword (or insert any other cool looking prop)? ASK. Dear God, ASK before you touch anything that someone else is carrying! I don’t mean to freak you out, but most of this stuff is VERY expensive and quite possibly damageable, no matter how sturdy it looks! Also if you start fucking around and injure someone else? There could be liability on the owner of the thing you were fucking around with. Some people will be chill about letting you handle their props, but if not, just be polite and thank them for their answer and move on! I’ve seen too many things be damaged/lost that were irreplaceable because people didn’t use common courtesy so I feel very strongly about this!

Do I have to use old fashioned speech? No, but it’s fun! And there are some pretty fun terms that are used to replace modern terms that don’t have a equivalent in the Renaissance! A few of my favorites: “The Book of Faces” = Facebook; “Please God 13″ = PG 13 (usually used to let you know if the content of a show will be slightly more mature); “Master or the Cards”/”Lady Visa”/”New World Express” = various names for common credit and debit cards!

Speaking of credit cards! There are a lot of vendors who take credit cards, but not all of them do, and sometimes reception can be REALLY spotty out in the faire grounds, so I’d say bringing about $40 per person (if you’re planning to eat lunch and dinner there) in cash is always a safe bet. Some faire grounds will have an ATM, but the line can get pretty long, and who really wants to pay ATM fees? Also tipping is how a lot of performers get to keep performing their craft! So having a couple ones to put in the basket at the end of a show if you choose to see a show is always a nice idea!

What about drinking alcohol, is that a thing? Yes, most Ren faires won’t let you bring your own, but most of the faires I’ve been to have plenty for sale! Just another general rule of courtesy: please do not treat this like a frat party, and try to avoid getting completely wasted and being a dick. Believe me. There’s a difference between being buzzed and having a good time and that. I have seen it too many times to count. It isn’t funny. There are usually children around you, and this is a public space. We all see you, and we’re all silently judging you. Please know your limits and drink responsibly!

I’ve worn cosplay before, is that okay to wear to Ren Faires? Cosplay is totally encouraged, especially if it works with the time period and/or it’s a character that is a time traveler! Hell, most of my “garb” is made up of cosplay! But please keep in mind: this is not a convention. There will be very, VERY limited places to sit. There will be very limited cover from the elements. You will most likely be walking on dirt roads with rocks and, if it has rained at all, you may be walking in several inches of mud. And the walk back to the car in the parking lot is a LOT longer than you think. So only wear something that you will be comfortable wearing for eight+ hours without being able to sit down for long/without having to remove parts of, and also something that can stand to get dirty and being out in the elements! (I have seen SO MANY floor length satin dresses that get dragged in the mud and it makes me physically cringe thinking about trying to get those mud stains out!) ALSO. COMFY SHOES. DEAR GOD. Invest in inserts if you can, just wear the comfiest fucking shoes you can find, your feet will thank you later!

Last of all: Don’t be afraid to ask question, and don’t be afraid to join in! Ask the cast and shop owners what the most fun things to do are if you aren’t sure what to do--sometimes they can point you in the way of really fun experiences that you wouldn’t even know about otherwise! If the Ren faire offers maps, definitely worth the investment, they’ll help you keep track of where you are (believe me, it’s super easy to get turned around!) as well as telling you where/when fun events and shows will be! Combining the two: one of my favorite parts of my local faire is Pub Sing, which is listed on the map but I might not have gone to without friends bringing me the first time and I LOVE it now. It’s basically a bunch of us sitting on wooden benches while one of the cast members leads singing of pub songs, and audience participation of new verses to the songs, lymericks, and toasts are fully welcome, and there’s even a big circle dance anyone can participate in and it’s always a great time, I try to never miss a single pub sing if I can help it!

So--yes, this probably got way too long, but hopefully this helps answer any questions that anyone might have had! Please feel free to comment if you have any other questions!

[always5hineee]

Hell and Back- Chapter 36: Test Tubes (Trials 61-70) [Part 2]

Word count: 1922

Chapter warnings: Mild language, themes, and violence

-----

       They all stared as the structure was revealed. Chen standing in front of all the glass tubes. It was more simple than she expected, in all honesty. It made up a long chamber, about the same height as the vats, with a wall-less floor situated about seven feet up. Underneath this floor, there was a pool of water, fairly high, but with room to breath should one fall in. On the upper half, there were several pillar, between which lied very, very thin strips of what appeared to be wire. She could barely see them from her position- in fact, she wouldn't have noticed them at all if not for the glinting light.

       They were razor thin wires, likely sharp. The more she stared, she also realized that the light reflecting off the water was rather patchy, suggesting that there were holes in the maze's floor. The object was evident- to get all the way through without killing themself on the wires or drowning in the water. Thankfully, although difficult, it didn't look impossible. If Chen was able to make it, they could pick two more people and get out before things really got hard. The only problem was, even if Chen survived, if he wasn't able to make it to the other side, he'd be forced to drop out, costing them another strong member, as well as their lightning powers. Granted, they hadn't used them up until that point, but that was statistically all the more reason to make sure he got through.

       Noting the thin entry on the far left side of the wall, Chen took a deep breath, striding towards it with the confidence of a man who had nothing to lose. Funny, seeing as how he still had plenty to lose, but she wasn't going to stop him. Entering in, he climbed up what she could only guess was a ladder, entering the platform at the center. She held her hand against the glass of her own vat, trying to see through the milk.

       In a sort of experiment, Chen grabbed the only thing he'd kept on him- his flashlight (his phone must have still been on the floor somewhere from when he pressed the drop out button) - he threw it into the mix of wires. against all expectations, it at first seemed to not hit a single one. He could have sworn he'd aimed properly, but it didn't bounce back at all. Looking down into the water, though, he could see that it was because the item had been sliced clean in half.

       "Oh, shit." He muttered under his breath. These were sharper than he'd anticipated. Originally, when he'd seen it, he'd been banking on the thought that it would be sort of like barbed wire. If you pressed up against it, it would hurt like hell, sure, but in this scenario, he could take his head clean off before he'd even realized what had happened. And honestly, knowing the trials, there was no way that the water was actually just water, right?

       Taking a deep breath in courage, he stepped between the first two visible wires, past a hole in the floor. Almost immediately, he yelped out in pain. Looking to his left arm, he saw a broad scrape running down the smooth expanse of his skin. He must have brushed past a wire that he couldn't even see. Trying to get under it, he ended up cutting himself again, this time more severely, causing him to stumble forward in pain. She could barely see what was going on, but she at least noticed when he fell through the floor down into the water.

       The boys began yelling his name, trying to make out what was going on, receiving no response. Frantically, she tried to reach for the handle, but suddenly, she was unable to move. Her whole body had become cold, stopping her in  place, almost as if she had been... Realizing, she shot her gaze to Xiumin, who was looking at her apologetically and yet demandingly.

       "You can't go out there."

       "I have to see if Chen's okay!"

       "No, as soon as you leave your vat, you'll have to do the same thing, I'm not going to let that happen." Reaching for his own handle, he was thrown out of the glass tube as he spilled out along with the blood. It made for a disgusting sight, but thankfully, he was relatively fine. When he stood to look around, he saw Chanyeol next to him as well.

       "What the h-"

       "Chen only did that for us. He knew we couldn't last the whole time. We have to finish the three dropouts. If we make it through, we can stay in the game, right?" Xiumin nodded slowly.

       "Right. Then let's go." Before he even gave the boy a chance to respond, Chanyeol ran up to the glass of the maze, looking in the water. "He's not in there- he's disappeared."

       "Maybe when he failed to complete the challenge, or passed out, they took him out and sent him away." Kyungsoo offered a theory, hoping that this was the case. If not, well... they didn't have a better explanation. Even if he'd died, his body would still be underwater.

       "Check the phone!" Chanyeol called back. Now easily floating in her vat due to Xiumin's powers, and with the one hand that she had been raising before relatively free, she looked at the screen.

       "His name is greyed out, but it doesn't give any specific details." She said in concern.

       "So, they've decided he's dropped out, fine." Chaneyeol then made his way to the ladder himself, swallowing his nerves. In truth, he was terrified, but he wasn't about to say anything regarding it. Y/N considered this... At least he was safe. Chen was having difficulty getting along with Kris and Kai, anyway, and they'd all be able to process it properly, without all the adrenaline rushes, when this madness was over.

       Looking over the wires, Chanyeol breathed in, shutting his eyes for a moment. Then, in one swift motion, he held his hands out, filling the entire box with the flames of his abilities. Granted, if something had been wrong with the maze, like methane riddled air or a gasoline pool beneath, he would have been toast. Thankfully, this was not the case. While the wires hadn't melted, like he'd originally hoped, they did heat up to the point of turning orange. A bright, glowing, obvious array of warm colors that would be easily avoidable given the right level of focus. There were more than he'd been able to see with his naked eye, but that was the benefit of the tactic. He made it through without touching a single wire, and although excruciatingly slow, it was doable.        

       Cheering as he descended the ladder on the other side, the boys pounded on the glass with grins on their faces. That left only Xiumin to complete the past Chen had started and release them of their tortures. Stepping up to bat, he looked over the wires, trying to figure out a similar solution to Chanyeol's... How could his abilities assist him?

       An idea popping to mind, he held out his hands as well, although it was far less showy than Chanyeol's skills. Slowly, each wire began to crystallize with jagged ice, coating it from end to end in beautiful, snowflake-like patterns. Holding out a hand in fear, he very gently touched one, but... nothing. The ice blocked the sharp nature of the wire. Granted, if he were to fall with a full-bodied force onto one, it would likely cut the ice clean in half, followed by his body. Still, he had no intention of such.

       Moving through with extreme care, he kept his eyes on the wire. While his solution also made the wires more visible, he was less confident in his ability to complete avoid them than Chanyeol. True to form, his skin did brush up against a few, but the worst injury he sustained were a few scrapes from the rough nature of his own solution. With his eyes glued to the adversary in front of him, though, he neglected to remember the holes in the floor.

       About a third of the way through, he stepped a little too far over the edge of one of  these gaps, sending him plummeting into the water. Screaming out for him, they all started searching. Unlike Chen, though, he came up spluttering and couching, hair soaked and face scrunched up in pain.

       "T-the water is salty-" He said with a shake in his tone, likely from the pool now searing his light cuts. He couldn't imagine the pain that Chen had been in before his removal. Then, he cried out again, momentarily falling under the surface as he convulsed in pain. They all waited in tension, trying to see what was going on, all breathing a sigh of relief when he came up flailing again.

       "There's wire under the water-" He said frantically, the pool around him beginning to cloud with red. She silently prayed that he was alright, and that he hadn't lost a limb or something. Freezing the liquid in front of him, he dragged himself up onto a platform of ice, scrambling to the other side before he lost the strength to create any more ice. A wet, bloody mess, he fell to the ground on the floor in front of the vats, breathing heavily and clutching his leg. And with that, all the vats opened, spilling their contents onto the ground.

       Rushing forward to make sure he was okay, Y/N grabbed Xiumin's body, pulling him into a half-sitting position over her lap. He shivered from the chill of the water, trying to force a smile.

       "H-hey, it's fine, I'm all good-" She looked over to where some of the boys were still laying on the ground where the tubes had spilled out- 'some' meaning Kris and Lay.

       "Lay! Get over here, he needs help-" She demanded, removing Xiumin's shirt so that he wouldn't be as cold. Sehun immediately grabbed it and started drying it with his abilities, trying to stay close by so that the heat would radiate towards him. Lay stumbled over, eyes sort of glazed over as he tried to hold his hands over Xiumin's injuries. They, thankfully, began closing up, his face relaxing as the pain began to subside. As he did so, she looked back to the vats. The contents had drained out into the center of the room, leaving literally no trace. She didn't know how, but they were completely clean- Chen's had no pink substance, hers wasn't white, nothing. Not even a bug was crawling along on the floor. It was incredible.

       Just as she looked back to check on Xiumin and Lay, the healer fell to the ground next to him, breathing heavily. At first, she though that he was just tired, as he'd been fatigued as of late. As she watched him, though, her expression shifted from one of mild notice to immediate concern. His body was convulsing, almost as if he were having a seizure.

       "Lay?" She asked, grabbing his shoulder. He was unresponsive as he continued shaking, occasionally experiencing a large spasm of a limb or his head. "Lay!" Kyungsoo pushed Sehun out of the way as he knelt next to the boy.

       "Lay?" He repeated, trying to get him onto his side so that if he threw up, he wouldn't choke. "Shit-"

Go to Chapter 37

[collecting-stories]

Paper Rings - Fangs Fogarty

Can you do a Fangs Fogarty x reader fic for the Discography Series with Paper Rings by Taylor Swift, please? - @thecaptainsgingersnap

\\\

I hate accidents except when we went from friends to this                               uh-huh, that’s right, darling,��you’re the one I want - Paper Rings, Taylor Swift

He was fidgeting. His knee bobbing as he sat in the chair beside you in the hallway. You were filling out paperwork because whenever he tried to write anything down his hand shook. Not exactly the tough guy image he tried to portray on a regular basis but he really couldn’t help it. Your leaned into him slightly, grabbing his knee and giving it a gentle squeeze. When he looked over you smiled, “chill babe.”

“I’m totally chill.” He replied, leaning back in his chair and stretching out, arms crossed in an attempt to look as calm as possible.  

“Yeah. Course you are.” You laughed.  

Fangs had met you at a house party exactly a year ago. You’d been there with Veronica and it had taken him almost two hours before he finally approached you, the practiced ease he usually had coming off a bit awkward. He wasn’t normally so nervous but you looked so confident standing there at the drinks table with Veronica, laughing about something he couldn’t hear. He had the overwhelming urge to make you laugh just like that and decided that standing there watching you from afar was not a great game plan.  

Up close your laugh was even better and you looked beautiful in the simple jeans and top you were sporting. Less pretentious than Veronica’s ‘big city’ outfit not that it helped him feel any better. He was still shaking with nerves. Be cool, he kept repeating. Just be cool. It was only a slight bruise to his ego when you laughed at his introduction.  

“Hey, Fangs Fogarty, can I get you a drink?” It was his standard line. And usually his reputation proceeded him enough that it was a line that worked to get a girls’ attention.  

“Fangs?” You laughed. “For real?”

He gulped, keep your cool. “Yeah, Fangs, for real.”  

“Well hey Fangs.” You bit your lip to stop from laughing again and handed your empty red cup to him, “sure, you can grab me a drink.”  

“What about me?” Veronica asked, picking up on the nervous energy he was emitting. She leaned across the table and waved her drink at him.  

“Ignore her, she’s taken.” You laughed, moving closer to him. Sure his name made you laugh but that didn’t mean he wasn’t cute and he was just the sort of distraction that you needed for the evening. Veronica rolled her eyes and moved away from the two of you, grabbing a wine cooler as she went.  

You watched as Fangs poured you a drink from the keg that was set up beside the table. He got himself one too, his hand shaking slightly from the nerves. You grabbed your drink from him, taking a sip, watching him from over the rim. You were doing your best to stay cool too, even if you did have the upper hand for a moment. The minute the beer hit your tongue you grimaced, cheap and watery.  

“Oh wow,” you stuck your tongue out at the cup, “that’s nasty.”

“Beer is beer?” He asked, grinning at the way you wrinkled your nose.

“I guess so.”

Fangs glanced back to the sliding glass door that allowed the party to flow into the backyard. There was a bonfire set up out there and people hanging around chatting. Inside it was definitely more crowded and when Fangs saw a chair open up near the fire he took the opportunity to have you more to himself. “Do you wanna go outside?” He asked, nodding his head back.  

“Sure,” you let him lead you outside and when he sat in the lawn chair your sat on his lap, wrapping your arm around his shoulders. He placed his hand on your thigh and held you close to him. His hand warm on your jean-clad thigh and it felt good in the cold night air.  

You spent most of the night with Fangs but when Veronica was ready to go you left, sliding off his lap and promising to text him. You had exchanged numbers with him willingly but you avoided texting him after that. It wasn’t that you didn’t like him at all, and Veronica chastised you for ghosting him but it wasn’t that anyway. You were just scared, scared because you really like him and it had only been one night and it wasn’t just the cheap beer playing with your senses. You liked him. He had been sweet and funny and-

“Hey,” he nudged you this time and you realized you were leaning over the clipboard staring at the paper. “You okay?”  

“Yeah, yeah...I’m good.” You smiled, “spaced out.”

“Now who’s nervous?” He teased.  

“I’m not nervous.” You replied and you meant it. There wasn’t a nervous bone in your body.  

You had ghosted him for at least a week until you saw him at a party again. And he had sworn that he didn’t want to be ‘that guy’ but he just had to know. Were you interested in him or were you just looking for someone for a night? And as much as you wanted to tell him that you weren’t looking for anything serious right now you told him that you liked him and he made you nervous.  

This party was at his house and he took you to his room but all you did was talk. You browsed the small bookshelf he had and asked him about the books there, surprised to find mostly classics. He was easy to talk to and when he listened he really listened. Not just a half-ass ‘yeah’ and ‘oh wow’ when you said something but actual responses. He made you laugh more than you thought possible and when Veronica came to look for you she went home alone.  

He took you to Pop’s at three in the morning for strawberry shakes and you talked about things you wanted to do after school ended. You had some pretty big plans, one of which was leaving Riverdale. He said he wouldn’t mind leaving too and somehow you thought that you wouldn’t mind leaving with him. That was a scary thought so you pushed the thought away and avoided saying anything to him about your lofty dreams for the budding relationship.  

“Do you have all your papers?” You asked, leaning into his space again, forehead against his cheek as you looked down to the papers in his lap.  

“You asked me that three times already.” He replied, trying to look exasperated but knowing that you were worried about having everything together made him thrilled.  

He was in the hallway at the courthouse outside the office that filed marriage licenses with you. He’d asked just three days ago, while the two of you were laying on the couch watching a rerun of a TV show he couldn’t remember because he was too nervous thinking about asking you to marry him. He’d been thinking it about it, at that point, for months. Maybe even since the night at his house party but it would be crazy to tell you that. But then he was just lying on the couch with you and just came out with it.  

“Marry me?” He’d asked, hands playing with yours.  

“What?” You had sat up, turned to look at him in shock.  

“Marry me.”  

And then here you were, sitting in the hallway filling out the marriage license application because you didn’t want to wait for all the showy stuff. The thought of being married a year ago when you first met Fangs at a party was not even in your mind but when he asked you all you wanted to do was be married already. So that was exactly what you did. The next morning you woke him up early and dragged him to the courthouse to be married.  

Fangs stopped twitching his knee again when he felt your hand there, holding him. “Hey,” You whispered, kissing his cheek.

“I’m fine, I’m not nervous.” He replied.

“I can tell,” you laughed. “I’ll be right back.” You stood up and took the clipboard to the office, handing it over to the woman behind the desk to file. Looking back at Fangs you smiled and he couldn’t help smiling back at you, thinking that it was crazy to him how things had changed in such a short time.  

-

I’ve obviously never written Fangs before and it’s been some time since I’ve watched Riverdale so I was pretty worried about this but I’m actually quite happy with it. Plus I love this song. 

[princessamericachavez]

would you go with me

title based in this song

The tavern is pretty crazy tonight, filled with very loud and very drunk people trying very hard to look like they are having a good time, pretending they’re celebrating something rather than avoiding the thought of the war that has been raging across the Empire for the past several months. Jester’s seen this kind of nights in Nicodranas too, in the Lavish Chateau. Her mother always commented on them sadly, and pointed out that nothing good comes from this kinds of nights. She never takes clients this desperate to forget. 

Tonight, Jester’s friends look just like that, too drunk, too showy, too fake happy. She knows enough about fake happy to recognize that some times it’s necessary. They need it to forget, at least for a night, that they’ve ended up way more involved in this war than any of them would like, but they are here now, for Nott, for Caleb, for Beau, and they will see it through. Tonight, though, all three empire natives are enervated, smiling wide and acting silly. It’s fine. Tomorrow they can face reality again.

For Jester, though, it all becomes too much after a few hours. She can’t go to bed yet, until she’s sure all of her friends have made it safely to their bedrooms too, but she needs to take a little air away from all this fake gleefulness, so she steps outside, to the chill night air. 

The street is calm, pretty much empty except for the bunch of crowns guards that patrol it. There’s a bunch more of guards lately, which is good for Zadash’s safety but bad for playing pranks. Though they could be good targets, if she’s very sneaky. She’s sure the Traveler would appreciate the effort. 

“Hey, Jester,” Fjord’s deep drawl catches her by surprise as she’s going through her newest master plan.

“Oh, hi, Fjord!” She smiles at him, turning around. “Whatcha doing here?”

“Saw you step outside,” he shrugs. “You okay?”

Ah, that question again. She’s heard it a lot lately, more than she ever did before in her whole life. 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she smiles, as usual, “just needed a little air, you know? It was getting very crazy in there.”

“That it is,” Fjord chuckles. “Those chucklefucks are probably gonna regret that in the morning.”

“Yeah. I thought you’d be drinking with them too.”

“I drank I bit,” he shrugs dismissive. “Not really in the mood to party much tonight. I’ve got some other things in my mind.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah. That’s- that’s actually something I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Me?” Jester tilts her head, trying hard to guess what this could be about and coming out empty handed. It’s been so hard to read him lately. She used to think he was an open book, but for the past several weeks she’s been second guessing every little detail, every comment. She doesn’t want to get it wrong again, think he’s flirting when he’s not, think he’s honest when he’s not, think she knows him, when she doesn’t. 

“Yes, well, I was thinking...” He starts, unaware of her musings. He pauses a little, suddenly sheepish as he looks down at his feet, and Jester smiles because she likes his shyness. It’s cute. “I was- uh. Well. You know that spell you do? The one with the messages?”

“You finally want me to send that message to the Plank King?!” She perks up.

“Yeah. Uh. No. Not him,” Fjord stumbles again. “I was thinking... well, Deucey said something to me a while back. I- I hadn’t said much because I guess I was still processing, and there was so much going on, but he said Vandran’s still alive.”

“What? Oh my gods, Fjord, that’s so cool! Are you sure?”

“Not really, but he said the Wildmother told him so and I- I don’t know how that thing with the gods works and shit.”

“It’s pretty damn cool,” she says, wiggling her eyebrows.

“Right. So. I was thinking... could you send a message to Vandran. Maybe? I mean, if you can’t that’s fine, I just thought-”

“Oh.” Jester blinks. 

For a second, she’s taken back by the possible meaning of this request, that he would trust her with something so important to him, that he would open up to her about something this big. It makes something in her stomach feel funny as she nods. 

“Yes. Of course. I would just need for you to describe him, like, very very well to me, you know? Because, technically, I’ve never met him, technically, but I did this for Beau once too and it worked, so we can try.”

“Great,” Fjord finally perks up, almost vibrating with excitement. “Well, he is- he’s a human, a bit shorter than me.”

“Like Caleb?”

“Kinda, yeah, but stronger. And he has brown hair, usually tied up on a small bun, and a bushy beard, and very blue eyes, and a tattoo on his left arm that-”

Once Fjord starts the description, he doesn’t stop. He goes into detail. Jester does her best to pay attention, to not get distracted by the way his face lights up with fondness, how his voice grows softer with longing, how his eyes sparkle as if he could look into the past and see his mentor clearly again. He is so beautiful when he’s happy. She can almost see the boy he must have been when he started sailing, hidden behind the features of the battle hardened man she knows.

“You think that’s enough?” He asks, a little breathless, after a while.

“Oh, yeah, that’s very good, I can totally see him perfectly in my head right now,” Jester nods. 

Please, Traveler, let this work. Let me give this to him. 

“Okay, so here it goes,” Jester casts the spell with Fjord’s eager eyes set on her. “Hello, Vandran? This is Jester. I’m a friend of Fjord’s,” she carefully counts the words with her fingers. “He just wanted to know if you were okay. And where you were, maybe? Thanks.”

Silence fills the night. Fjord’s eyes are still on her, eager. Her heart begins to break, right before a new voice enters her mind. It’s very deep, a little husky, but she knows that accent like the back of her hand. 

Fjord? He’s alive?

Jester’s face must light up with surprise, because Fjord reacts to her like a mirror, mouth gapping open, eyes wide as oranges.

Well, that’s some damn good news. Thank you, Miss. I’m a’right. Keepin’ my head low. Though I’d love to see hm.

“He replied! He replied!” Jester cheers as soon as the message ends, wiggling her fingers with excitement. “He said- He said he’s keeping his head low! But he’s alright! He said he’d love to see you again! He was happy that you’re alive too! Oh my god, he probably thought you were dead too!”

Fjord huffs and runs his fingers through his hair, as if the revelation had knocked the air out of his lungs. His eyes shoot up to the sky, and the next breath he lets out is a little shaky, but he recovers quickly, returning his eyes to her.

“Where- where is he? Can you ask him?”

“I can! I can!” Jester nods, feeling herself vibrating with excitement at the revelation. “Okay, okay, okay. Here we go. Second spell. Yes, Fjord is alright, he’s happy that you’re alive too. We are on Zadash now but we might be going North soon, where are you?”

“Where those twenty five?” Fjord blinks. 

“I think?” Jester shrugs. She forgot to count.

Damn, that’s some ways up North. Vandran’s voice comes back to her.  I’m in Port Damali right now, but... I could come up there. Wouldn’t mind some change of views if-

“Port Damali! He’s in Port Damali!”

“He- what?” Fjord breathes out. 

“Yes, yes, yes. He said he was there! But he said he could come up here to find us! We can see him!”

Fjord’s shaking his head before she’s even done talking.

“He can’t come here. That’s- that’s too far a trip for him to make on his own. ‘Sides, we’re going up to Rexxentrum in a couple days, he wouldn’t be here in time, and we can’t waste more time with Nott’s friend on the line like he is-”

“But-”

“I can’t ask that of him, Jester,” he sighs, and his voice is so heavy and sad she feels the sudden need to hug him. She doesn’t. She let’s him recover, take a deep breath and make up his mind. “Can you- Could you send one more message? Please,” he asks quietly.

“Of course, Fjord.”

He still takes one more moment to steady himself. 

“Alright, tell him to stay put. Say I’ll come find him, when we’re done with our business up North.”

She nods and puts both her closed fists before her face. Better make sure to count this time. Third spell.

“Actually, we are going North soon. Fjord says you should best stay put there, and he will come find you as soon as he can.”

She feels Vandran’s heavy sigh before any words come through. He sounds as disappointed as Fjord looks right now, but then his voice is steady and reassuring. 

Alright. I trust his instincts. I’ll stay here. Just tell that boy to be careful and come find me soon, darling. It’s been too long.

She sighs relieved.

“He says he’s staying there because he trusts you, but you should go find him soon because he misses you.”

Fjord lets out a laugh that almost sounds like he wants to cry. 

“Okay,” he mumbles quietly. “Okay, okay.”

She sees him press his back against the tavern’s wall and slide down until he’s sitting on the side walk. His eyes are lost somewhere in the distance, and he looks so small and shaken that Jeter’s heart aches.

“Do you... wanna go back inside?” She offers.

“Actually, I think I just need to stay here for a minute,” Fjord replies without looking at her. 

Jester nods, and turns to walk back inside, give him the space he requires.

“Would you- would you mind staying with me for a minute?” His voice is small, hesitant, almost. 

Thank the Traveler for the offer, she hated the idea of leaving him here alone.

“Of course!” she smiles and sits by his side. 

He doesn’t speak. The silence of the street extends, the gentle howl of the wind, the muffled music of the tavern, the rhythmic marching of far-off crowns guards. Jester’s never been good with silence, in her bedroom she’d fill it with her own voice, singing, humming, talking to herself. Now, though, she’s replaced it with conversation, because she has friends. 

“So,” she finally says, “how do you feel?”

“I- I don’t know,” Fjord sighs. He still hasn’t looked at her once. She can tell his mind is a million miles away. “I mean- he’s alive. Vandran’s alive.”

“That’s a good thing,” she smiles.

“Yeah. Yeah, it is,” he seems to perk up a little, just for a second before the heaviness returns to his posture. “I just- To think he’s been in Port Damali this whole time and I didn’t have a clue.”

“Well, at least you know now, right? And you can go find him when we are done with this whole war thing.”

“Yes,” Fjord ducks his head, until it’s nearly hidden between his bent knees, and runs a hand through his dark hair. When he speaks, it’s so quiet that she barely hears him.”Would you go with me?”

“What?”

Fjord straightens up, finally turns and faces her. Jester is surprised by the intensity of his eyes, but his face is steady and earnest. 

“Would you go with me?” He repeats. “I just- I know there’s a lot going on for everyone else, and I’ve already asked a lot of all of you, but- but it would mean a lot if you could come with me to Port Damali, when this is all over.”

“Of course,” Jester breathes out, then perks up. “And, I’m sure the others will wanna come too, you know? We all care about you, Fjord. And I am coming, for sure. We are a team, right?”

Fjord smiles and it’s like she can breathe away.

“That we are,” he nods. “Thanks, Jester.”

“Any time, Fjord.”

He’s still smiling at her. God, if he knew that her heart flutters every time he does.

“We- we should probably go back inside,” he says clearing his throat, probably unaware of the way her whole skin is vibrating. 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” she stands up, and offers him a hand to get up, just because that little contact is enough to send a shiver of energy through her whole body. To distract herself from it, she says, “you think Vandran will think it’s weird that you talk like him now?”

“Wha- oh, shit. I hadn’t thought of that. I might need to do something about that.”

“Are you gonna go back to your old voice?”

“Maybe?” Fjord blinks, as if confused. “I don’t know.”

“Well, I’m gonna miss this voice if you do, but I can probably get used to the other one, probably.”

Fjord laughs. It’s all worth it, just because he laughs and for a second the tension leaves his body and his whole face lights up. She smiles back at him, just as they walk into the warm chaos of the tavern. 

If only he knew, she’d follow him anywhere.

[saywhatjessie]

Hey Baby (Uhh, Ahh)

Written for Lissa for Fandom Trumps Hate, Timestamp for “Nobody Puts Baby In a Corner”, 3.7k (Ao3)

Dean bounced on his toes, shaking out his arms in a useless attempt to increase blood flow to his fingertips. The blood flow was fine: it was the rampant anxiety that was making his hands tingle.

He watched the monitor backstage, trying to distract himself with some of the biggest names in wrestling having their moment – talking about the previous night’s match and setting up the challenges in the coming year.

Dean had actually gotten to see Wrestlemania the night before. He wasn’t featured – wasn’t even a name on the wind – but he’d been invited to watch the match the night before his debut on the main roster. And boy had he watched.

He’d brought Sammy to watch with him, childishly wanting to show off for his little brother. He was a part of it now. He was a part of this thing that they’d both loved. They didn’t love it the same – Sam would never audition to be a wrestler – but you couldn’t just turn off the wrestling groupie inside of you.

Now Sam was sitting off to the side, elbows on his knees, watching Dean pace.

“You’re ready for this, Dean,” he reminded him, not for the first time. “You’ve got momentum. You’ve trained for it. You’re ready.”

“Yeah, I know, Sammy,” Dean answered with a snort. “You can take the kid gloves off, it’s fine.”

Sam rolled his eyes, turning his attention back to the monitor as Dean jogged in place.

Someone shorter than Dean came up to hip check him. “Hey there, butternut.”

Dean was already smiling when he turned to her. “Charlie.”

She grinned. “You’re on deck, babycakes. This match is ending and then we’re going on commercial, letting the youngins duke it out a bit, and once we’re back, you’re on.”

Dean nodded, his heart rate picking up the slightest tick. “Yeah, thanks, Charlie.”

Her grin softened in sympathy and she patted his arm. “You’re gonna be great.”

“Why do people keep telling me that,” Dean muttered. Charlie, laughed, punching him in the shoulder and sauntering off.

“Who was that?” Sam asked, his eyes still following the little redhead down the hall.

“One of the techies,” Dean told him. “Sort of assigned to me in my move, makes sure I go where I need to.” He grinned. “And a huge lesbian so don’t even try.”

Sam shook his head, scoffing. “I wasn’t, shut up.”

Dean grinned wider.

“Befriending her is still worth it, though, if you’d like. She’s lovely.” Came a voice, coming from a different hallway than the one Charlie had just left down. “Hello, Dean.”

Dean immediately flushed. “Castiel.”

Cas smiled, gently with his lips closed, inclining his head toward Dean. He was wearing his trench coat wrapped around him, actually tied at the waste to fend off the chill of the A/C they pump through the backstage. When he goes out to the ring it’ll be gaping open, showing off his amazing abs and the tiny little trunks he wears to wrestle. Dean was very familiar.

They’d met a couple times before, though not in any official capacity. An interview once. Party of a mutual friend. They’d only been officially introduced that week to go over script and choreography.

Because Dean was moving up from NXT. He was coming to the main roster: to Smackdown, officially. And a match with Castiel was gonna get him there.

Sam cleared his throat. Dean jerked, gesturing to him.

“Castiel, this is my brother, Sam. Sammy this is Castiel.”

“The Angel,” Sam said, coming out of his chair to shake Castiel’s hand. “It’s good to meet you. I’ve been following you.”

Castiel raised an eyebrow.

Sam flushed. “I mean your career! I’m a fan. Not a stalker fan but–”

Dean cracked up. “He knew what you meant, man.” Dean turned to Castiel, his eyes dancing. “It kills me that no one else knows you’re funny.”

“I’m not funny,” Castiel told him, but his eyes were also bright with humor before looking back at Sam. “But I was messing with you, Sam. I’m sorry,”

Sam shook his head, waving off the apology. “No, don’t be, it’s fine. You’re fine.”

“Yeah, he is,” Dean said, under his breath. Cas looked over at him, his mouth tilted in a smirk. He clearly heard him.

Well, Dean wasn’t wrong. And he wasn’t going to apologize. He winked.

Castiel smirked more, actually showing some teeth.

Sam rolled his eyes. “The longer we talk, the less angelic you seem.”

Cas turned to Sam, flicking his eyebrows once in a ‘Well…’ sort of way. Then he transformed in front of their eyes.

He lost the smile, his face smoothing out into an expressionless mask, his eyes going from bright amusement to simmering righteousness. He was a couple inches shorter than Sam, the big tree, but the way he held his body, his shoulders, he was looming.

“Read the Bible,” Castiel said, his usually gravelly voice coming out even deeper and more threatening. “Angels are warriors of God. I’m a soldier.”

Sam visibly shuddered.

Castiel smiled, his shoulders slumping again. he lifted his hands and tilted his head, as if acknowledging invisible applause.

Dean almost gave him some. Almost. That was extremely hot.

“That’s where my storyline is angling now that I’m heel, anyway.” Castiel said, as if he hadn’t just brought them to church, almost literally, with that performance. “I was thinking about doing some rebranding when I turn face again. Being the Seraph instead of the Angel.”

“Sounds like a font,” Dean told him, a little dumbstruck, still.

Castiel frowned. “Yes, I feared that too.”

Sam let out a little hysterical giggle, immediately covering his mouth.

“Okay, it’s almost curtain,” Charlie said, popping her head back in. “Dean and Castiel, with me. Sam, you’ve got a seat right up front.”

Sam cleared his throat, his mouth twitching. “Thanks.” He turned to Dean, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “Break a leg.”

Dean snorted. “I’m supposed to lose.”

“So lose really cool.” Sam shrugged. “Make a splash or whatever.”

“Fuck outta here,” Dean said, shoving his hand off his shoulder, but he did move in for a hug. “Thanks.”

Sam squeezed him back, clapping him on the shoulder again as he pulled away.

They turned to Charlie and Castiel, both of whom were looking seconds away from ‘awwing’ out loud.

Sam reached forward to shake Castiel’s hand. “Good to meet you. Really,” he said, before letting go and heading toward the entrance to the floor.

The three of them watched him leave for a moment, Dean getting more and more nervous with every step Sam took away from him.

But the moment passed quickly and Charlie was corralling them both into following her to the entrance stage.

“So your brother,” Castiel starts, the two of them walking side by side. “Older or younger?”

“Younger,” Dean sighed.”But he’s so stupid tall nobody believes me when I tell them that.”

Castiel grinned. “No, I believe you. He suffers from puppy face.”

Dean barked a laugh. “Puppy face?”

“Yes. It’s not a baby face because he doesn’t look young . But when he talks to you he looks kind of excited, adoring, and wholesome. Like a puppy.”

Dean laughed again, his ears going pink thinking about it. “He is actually pretty wholesome. He’s in school to be an environmental lawyer, you know.” Dean lets out another laugh, softer this time. “Kid wants to save the world.”

Castiel hummed, his mouth serious but his eyes looking at Dean with a certain fondness.

Dean cleared his throat. “You got family?”

“No one close by,” Castiel said in a complete non-answer. “I have considered getting a pet, though. With this job, however…”

“Yeah,” Dean said. “You don’t spend too much time at home.”

Castiel hummed again, a noise of displeasure this time.

“Cats can’t take up too much work,” Dean continued. “You could get a cat. You just have to make sure someone comes in to clean the shit box if you’re away for too long.”

Castiel chuckled, eyes on the ground, smile quirking his lips. “I can certainly look into it.”

They arrived at the entrance stage, the light from the thirty foot high projection screens illuminating the back with a dull glow.

“Cue music,” Charlie said into her headset. The sound of wings flapping projected to the audience. Screams went up.

Castiel turned to Dean, his trench coat now untied and Championship belt on full view. He was sporting a wider smile than Dean had yet seen. “See you out there,” he told him.

Dean nodded but Cas had already turned away, pushing through the curtain to a gothic choir singing him to the rapture.

Dean let out a shaky breath, turning to the monitor set up just inside the door. Cas’s gait was confident and severe, stepping toward the stage with the deliberateness of a preacher walking to the pulpit.

He stepped into the ring, only deeming to duck his head to get through the ropes, but otherwise standing tall and firm. He discreetly grabbed a mic from a ref and brought it to his face, not saying anything. Just letting the audience feel his stare.

The audience booed. Well, half of them did. He was a heel; it was his job to be hated. But he was too damn lovable, he only got half the people in the stands to play along.

When the crowd had finally died down enough – not all the way, this was still a wrestling match, but enough – Castiel spoke, mouth very close to the microphone, in his deepest, most carrying gravel.

“Did you miss me?”

Cheers and jeers and boos and woos. Castiel’s face didn’t even twitch.

“How could you have missed me?” Castiel tilted his head, taunting the audience. “I didn’t go anywhere.” He spread his one arm wide. “I was champion before, and I’m champion now. No weak wrestler could take this from me.”

More noise from the audience. Castiel wasn’t as showy as some of the other wrestlers but he knew how to rile up a crown.

“I’m here, on Monday Night RAW, because I can be. Because,” he pointed out to the crowd, focusing on some lucky individual up in the stands. “You want me to be. I am the best wrestler here. We had an entire night to figure it out and last night, at Wrestlemania, I came out – I came back – with my belt.”

He pulled the belt off, raising it slowly above his head, the volume of the crowd rising with his hand.

Castiel’s presence was unlike anyone else on the roster. He didn’t saunter. He didn’t sneer. He just stood in the middle of the ring and told his truth. Like fact. Like he knew what was best and you’d just better listen.

It was captivating as hell.

“Your precious Gordon couldn’t keep it from me,” he said. “None of your supposed champions. No one who has ever been on this stage has ever had what it takes.” He pumped his fist in the air, firmly, the belt grabbing the light and throwing it back. “No one could challenge me. I dare any of you to come up here and try.”

That was Dean’s cue.

Well, the music was Dean’s cue. Four notes on a harmonica before the guitars came in, playing a vaguely rockabilly but mostly rock riff. Dean took one more deep breath before stepping out from behind the curtain onto a stage lit up with rushing colors of pink, blue, and purple.

He walked out with swagger, sweat dripping from beneath his cowboy hat but his face all cocky smiles and finger guns.

He didn’t get the same response as Cas – he was still new – but there were more people than he expected pumping their fists to Dean’s music. Screaming his name.

He had a pretty significant following already from NXT but… this was the big leagues. This was Monday Night RAW. To make his prime time debut during the Monday Night RAW after Wrestlemania was how you knew things were happening. This is where shit got real. 

People were excited to see him. He was excited to see them. His nervousness melted away and he became more and more the cocky cowboy.

The last few feet, he took a running start at the ring, rollind between the ropes and popping up.

He knew the commentators now were giving the audience back home all his details. His name. His background. How they thought he would do in the big leagues. But the audience at home wasn’t Dean’s concern. He had to connect with the audience around him.

He walked around the ring, pointing at the assembly and subtly pulling a mic from a ref on the sidelines, before stepping to the middle of the ring, thumb hooked through one of the belt loops on his jeans.

He recited his opening to the largest crowd he’d ever performed in front of.

“I’m Baby Del Mar and I think y’all are mighty fine.” Dean almost stumbled. Hundreds of voices were speaking with him. He channeled the enormous grin threatening to take over his face into an arrogant smirk. “It’s time for ass-whooping” He turned and stabbed a finger in Castiel’s direction. “ He’s next in line?”

Screams went up. Wolf whistles and cowbells. Someone had smuggled in an airhorn.

They had to have known he was coming – the WWE didn’t keep many secrets – but they were reacting as if nothing so shocking had ever happened in their lives.

“I’m sorry,” Castiel said, his gruff words cutting short the people carrying on around him. “Did you say your name was ‘Baby?’ ��

Jeers from the audience. Dean wasn’t sure if it was at Cas or at him.

“I’m sure I’ll have you crying like one by the end of the match,” Cas continued his face stoic. It was more effective than any sneer or leer could have been.

“They call me baby because everyone loves me,” Dean said, spreading his arms to receive praise from the audience. And, remarkably, there was praise to be received. “And they’re gonna love me even more when I beat you, Angel.”

Dean was supposed to say his name. Was supposed to spit the word ‘Castiel ’ like it was gristle stuck in his teeth.

Dean took a… flirtier approach.

Castiel raised an eyebrow. The most emotion he’d shown in his face since he walked out. “Is that so?”

Dean winked and went off script. “Don’t worry. You’ll like it. I’m–” Dean had to cut himself off, the crowd had gotten too loud. He took the time to lick his lips. “I’m sure by the end of this, you’ll love me too.”

Cas’s face didn’t break again but for the slight creasing at the corner of his eyes,his eyes themselves bright and humorous. He was smiling. As much as he could while in character.

“We’ll see about that.”

They wrestled.

Dean lost.

It was incredible.

At one point, when Dean had broken out of Castiel’s Cupid Chokehold and stood looming over him where Cas was sitting on the ground, getting his bearings, the audience had taken up a chant.

“ Baby’s gonna kiss you. Baby’s gonna kiss you. ”

Dean had grinned, turning to pump his fist at the crowd.

He was the bisexual cowboy. Everyone knew that.

But to have people chanting…

Dean thought that may have been the happiest moment of his entire life.

And it just kept getting better.

Once Dean had been pinned, Castiel’s arm raised and belt secure, Dean pouted in the ring. Acting the baby. It was his thing.

And Castiel had turned to him and winked. Which was not his thing.

He was out of eyeline of the camera so no one saw. He maintained his eerie angelic persona.

But Dean knew.

Dean got backstage first, falling bodily into his brother’s waiting arms, both of them laughing and jovial. 

“Dean that was amazing!” Sam crowed, slapping every inch of Dean he could reach. Dean was no longer wearing his shirt or his cowboy hat and was sticky with sweat but Sam didn’t seem to care. “I can’t believe you just threw your hat away.”

Dean smirked, feigning a shrug. He hadn’t gotten permission to give that hat away but “They’ll get over it.”

Sam laughed again, shaking his head. “You’re insane, man. But, damn, what a good match.”

“I agree,” came Castiel’s voice where he’d just joined them backstage. He was even smiling – a soft and crooked thing. “You’re quite the performer, Dean.”

There was nothing soft about Dean’s answering smile as it shone brightly out of his face. “Thanks, man! It felt really good being up there.”

“It always does,” Castiel said, his smile widening at Dean’s response. “And I think we worked rather well together.”

“Oh, fuck yeah, dude. It was just like,” Dean gestured back and forward with his hands, bringing them up to his head and making an explosion sound with his mouth. “Right?”

Castiel laughed, softly. “Exactly what I was thinking.”

Dean turned his grin to Sam who was also looking at Dean with more fondness than anyone over 30 should receive. “It was good, right?” He asked Sam. “Did it look as good as it felt?”

Sam nodded, slapping Dean on the shoulder again. “Yeah, man, it looked real good. I had it recorded so we can watch it tomorrow.”

Dean pumped his fist then frowned. “Why can’t we watch it tonight?”

Sam rolled his eyes, though he was still smiling. “I have an early call tomorrow. I need to go to bed .”

Dean frowned again. They were the headlining event so the night was technically over –  he could hear the rustling of and shouts of the crowds as they made their way out of the arena. But... he was still super keyed up: he wasn’t ready to go home yet.

“If your brother needs to leave,” Castiel chimed in, his shoulders curved in a little, his head tilted, inquisitively. It was a weird posture on someone wearing a pair of trunks and nothing else. “the two of us could get dinner?” He smiled his soft smile again.“I’m not quite ready for the night to be over, either.”

Dean perked right back up, his chest swelling. “Yeah. Yes! I could use a burger.”

Castiel huffed a quick laugh. “I could always use a burger.”

“Awesome.” Dean was bouncing on his toes again. “Okay so… we should shower?”

Castiel nodded. “I would say, yes. Shower. Then burgers.”

“Great!” Sam said bringing his hands together in a clap. “So, Dean, I will see you at the hotel?” Sam raised an eyebrow. Nothing salacious but Dean knew what he was implying.

He blushed, clearing his throat. “Yeah, Sammy, I’ll see you at the hotel. You good to take a cab or–”

“Oh, no, I’m taking a cab,” Sam’s grin turned more wicked by the second. “I think you’re gonna want to introduce Castiel to your baby.”

“You have a baby?” Castiel asked, his head cocked (adorably) again.

Sam just winked, clapping Dean on the shoulder again. He reached forward with his other hand to shake Castiel’s. “Really good match. Great meeting you. I’m sure I’ll be seeing you again soon.”

Castiel shook back, nodding in acknowledgement, still looking mildly bewildered but too polite to press the point. “I look forward to it, Sam.”

Sam nodded, his stupid hair bouncing around his ears, and he clapped Dean once more on the back and made his way out.

“Your baby?” Castiel asked again.

Dean chuckled. “My car. You’re gonna love her.”

Castiel huffed air out through his nose in a surprised kind of laugh but gestured with his arms for Dean to proceed toward their locker room.

They showered in the unselfconscious way of two athletes, despite whatever sexual tension might be going on. They kept up a steady stream of chatter through the whole process: How was living in Japan? (Dean) What’s it like being so close with your brother? (Castiel) What’s the best burger joint in town (They had a rather intense debate about this, though a smile was never too far from either of them.)

They took the elevator down to the parking garage below the stadium – reserved exclusively for the talent. Dean hung back so he could watch Castiel see his baby for the first time.

Castiel turned his eyes from Dean, a smile still on his face and turned toward the car. He barely paused, going immediately for the passenger door and waiting for Dean to unlock it.

Dean frowned. “Nothing? I don’t get a low whistle? Not even a ‘wow’? This is my pride and joy here, Cas.”

Cas blinked, his eyes a little startled.

It was then Dean realized he’s never called Castiel ‘Cas’ out loud before now. Only in his head.

Well, that was embarrassing.

Before Dean could apologize, though, Cas was responding, the corner of his mouth twitching. “I’m sorry, Dean, I don’t know very much about cars. I didn’t need one to get around in Japan and I haven’t really picked up the habit of driving since.”

Dean put a hand to his chest, dramatically betrayed. Really he was just relieved Castiel didn’t call him on the over-familiarity. “Blasphemy! No wonder they made you evil.”

Castiel chuckled, awkwardly adjusting the grip on his gym bag. “They’re actually talking about turning me face soon.” He shrugged. “Not much more you can do with the ‘dark angel’ storyline.”

Dean snorted, leaning forward to his rest his elbows on the roof of the car. He knew it made him look casual and just a little bit deviant. He’d struck the pose a lot. “So no more hellfire and brimstone?”

Castiel smirked, bringing up a hand to tap on the door handle, not quite as bold as Dean as to lean bodily on the car. “I’m afraid so.”

Dean hummed, peeling himself off the car with a flick of his keys. “‘S too bad,” he said, sticking the key in the lock. He waited for the lock to click open before he continued. “I do like a bad boy.”

Dean took a minute to revel in the mildly shocked but definitely pleased look that came over Castiel’s face before he jerked the driver’s side door open.

“Get in the car,” he told him with a wink. “We got burgers to eat.”

[patricianandclerk]

Prejudice & Punishment

My Ask | My Ko-Fi | My Ao3 | Requests always welcome!

Rated T. Implied Drumknott/Vetinari. POV Nobby Nobbs. Homophobia.

Nobby hesitated a little as he walked down the stairs, down toward the cells. Sergeant Guster, Angua had said, had said he arrested Mr Drumknott as a matter of course, to distract from all the business with the men who’d tried to rough him up. He’d been in the Blue Cat Club with one of the stokers, and it’d been a gang of six who’d ganged up on him when the stoker’d had to go. Mr Drumknott had men who kept an eye on him, Nobby knew, but he hadn’t needed them to beat up the lads who’d come for him—

And Guster had tried to arrest him. He’d not even done any of the men that much harm, although he could have done, Nobby knew. He was only a little man and it was easy to forget, but he could be lethal, if he wanted to, could be right lethal. Mr Drumknott had been angry enough that he’d almost broke Guster’s hand, and then he’d been arrested for assaulting an officer of the Watch.

Guster was in Vimes’ office, now, pacing back and forth and sweating bullets, his skin pale and pasty. He hadn’t known Drumknott was the Patrician’s clerk. He’d just thought he was some invert, and that—

It wasn’t right.

Nobby knew that, that it wasn’t right.

Commander Vimes’d gone spare, when he’d found out, but Drumknott had said he wouldn’t leave the cell ‘til he had new clothes, and—

Nobby came into the corridor, and he looked through the bars.

Mr Drumknott was sitting against the wall on the concrete bed, one knee of his scuffed trousers drawn up against his chest, his boot drawn up and flat on concrete, the other leg outstretched before him.

Vimes was sitting on the other bed, his hands between his knees, his expression sour.

“… and I can’t say again how sorry I am,” Nobby heard Vimes say. “He’s not going to come out of this unscathed or without punishment. He’ll be stripped of his rank for this, Mr Drumknott.”

“Do you think, Commander Vimes? I don’t think he’ll have the time for that.”

“Now, Mr Drumknott. Sergeant Guster didn’t know better. He probably didn’t even realize—”

“Yes, he did,” Drumknott said, his voice cold. Nobby had never heard Mr Drumknott interrupt someone before. He was a quiet, fastidious little man: even though he disliked Nobby, had a go at Nobby, he was always polite about it, somehow. He wasn’t being polite now. He sounded furious. “And now, Commander, he’ll learn his lesson.”

“Yeah, by being demoted, and put through disciplinary action.”

“You say it so pointedly, Commander – do you really think it’s me that makes the choice? His lordship considers myself and his staff to be an extension of himself. He considers it treason, for someone to lay hands on one of us without cause. To make up faux charges to arrest us for, simply because—"

“Everyone in this city has prejudices, Mr Drumknott. They don’t deserve to die for them when they can just be taught. You could talk to his lordship, I’m sure.” There was a tense silence, and Drumknott looked at Vimes so nastily that Nobby was surprised Vimes didn’t flinch.

“Why should I?” he asked softly, arching an eyebrow. “I don’t want to.”

Nobby heard Vimes inhale sharply. “’Cause you can give him a chance to make amends. Make it right.”

“Don’t you preach forgiveness to me, Commander Vimes,” Drumknott said sharply, and Vimes shook his head, but before he could reply, Drumknott turned to look at Nobby. “You may come in, Corporal Nobbs: you aren’t interrupting anything.”

Vimes looked up to Nobby through the open cell door, and Nobby stepped forward, moving reluctantly into the cell. For once, though, Mr Drumknott wasn’t glaring daggers at him, and he held out the box that had come from the Patrician’s Palace.

“They sent a new outfit for you,” Nobby said. “More trousers an’ a new shirt, that’s all, and your coat.” There was a red jumper clumsily folded on top of the box, and he saw that Mr Drumknott was looking at it very critically, his brow furrowed. His glasses were bent, Nobby saw. “Er,” Nobby said, “Fred— Fred said it’d taken a turn for the chill, that your coat probably wouldn’t be enough. That’s his jumper, Mr Drumknott, from his locker. It’s clean, Mr Drumknott! Angua sniffed it and didn’t even flinch.”

Mr Drumknott’s lips were parted in surprise, and he looked at Nobby for a long moment. “Sergeant Colon did that?” he asked quietly.

“Yeah,” Nobby said. “You don’t have to wear it, he said, you don’t have to, but he only thought, er, that you might be cold.”

He didn’t look cold, but he was shirtless. They’d ripped the shirt clean off his back, and the two bigger lads had bent him over a railing before Mr Drumknott had started breaking fingers.

Mr Drumknott was wearing just his trousers and his mud-spattered boots, and Nobby could see his chest, which was more athletic than one would expect, from a clerk. Way more. He was a little man, compact, but Nobby had always assumed he was skinny underneath all his suit and robes, like Vetinari, but actually he was built more like— Well, not even like Vimes, because Vimes had muscle on him, but always carried that skinniness from the Shades, with his knobbly knees and skinny joints.

Drumknott was built like Lady Sybil: muscular, but not in a defined, showy way, just in a sensible, meaty way, with padding over the muscles. He looked like the sort of man who could throw another man across the cobbles (which he had done today), but he was still soft at his edges, with paunch at his belly, with a round, soft breast.

He had scars all over.

Some of them were nasty ones, shiny, thick burn marks from a clothes iron or the side of a stove, but Nobby recognised some of them. Marks from a belt, them, he knew what they looked like, what they felt like. He could see spots where he’d had nasty falls and grazes, where it’d scarred up, and there was a mark on the left side of his ribcage, where a rib’d broken and come through, once upon a time. His dad had been a grocer, Fred said, in Nap Hill. Fred’d always thought he was a sound man, ‘til after he’d been killed when Drumknott was a lad. He’d had gambling debts, and he used to hit his kids, Fred’d said.

He’d said it so sick, like, so low and quiet. Jasper Drumknott used to hit his kids so much they bled and bruised and screamed, Fred’d said, and Fred used to drink with him, and take free sausages off him, and thought he’d been a sound man.

He’d all but run to get the jumper out of his locker, just now.

“That was very kind of him,” Drumknott said quietly, and he stood slowly to his feet. Nobby wondered if he remembered Fred being friendly with his dad. He didn’t know. He didn’t remember most of his own dad’s friends these days, except to avoid them, if he saw them.

“And Igor says he can have a look at your eye, Mr Drumknott,” Nobby said as he held out the box, letting Drumknott take it from him. “If you want.”

“It’s merely a bruise, Corporal Nobbs,” Drumknott murmured. “There’s no dizziness, difficulty focusing, no hyphema. I don’t require medical attention.”

“What’s that?” Nobby asked. “Eye-feema?”

“A bleed in the eye,” Drumknott said, turning away, and Nobby stared at his back. Nobby’s back looked like that, albeit with more dirt and grime on it, and much skinnier. Drumknott’s back probably showed it worse, for that, with all the belt marks, and how pale he was. Nobby looked at Vimes, who met his gaze, and just silently shook his head.

Nobby swallowed.

Drumknott drew the shirt out of the box, drawing it on and beginning to button it up. He changed into new trousers, then, apparently not caring that Vimes and Nobby were there with him, but Nobby turned his face away, looking at Vimes instead.

“Guster’s in your office, sir,” Nobby said. “Um. Well, the man who delivered the box, um, from the Patrician’s Palace, he wanted to, er, go in your office, with him, for a second, he said, and Angua wouldn’t let him.”

“Good,” Vimes said.

“And then Angua punched Guster, sir.”

“Good,” Vimes said, and then coughed. “I mean— Well. I’ll see him in a minute.”

Nobby saw Mr Drumknott’s lip twitch.

“And there’s no sign of Stoker Blake, sir,” Nobby said.

Vimes got a funny, twisted look on his face, but Mr Drumknott’s face didn’t reveal anything as he said, “I don’t need my partner to escort me home, Corporal, worry not. I’ll walk back to the Palace on my own. I’m scarcely harmed.”

“Why’d you stay down here in the cells, Mr Drumknott?” Nobby asked, ignoring the warning look Vimes gave him. “You din’t have to – you knew you didn’t do nothing wrong, just defended yourself!” They were in another Watchhouse, by the Entertainment District. They were really gonna throw the book at them, Captain Carrot had said, in a quiet, grim sort of way that made Nobby shiver[1].

“I know the penal codes of this city inside and out, Corporal,” Drumknott said quietly. “Sergeant Guster arrested me on a wrongful charge, yes, but I could hardly be seen to be given special treatment, simply because I am the Patrician’s clerk. Initially, Sergeant Angua went to release me simply because she recognised my face. I could hardly be released without the proper paperwork in a state of appropriate completion.”

“Gods, you’re worse than he is,” Vimes muttered. He was Vetinari, Nobby supposed.

“Kind of you to say so, Watch Commander,” Drumknott said softly, and he hesitated for a moment before drawing up Fred’s red jumper, and awkwardly drawing it over his head. It was too big on him – the sleeves were a little bit too long, and although it wasn’t too long at the hem, there was an awful lot of give around the belly.

Nobby had never seen Mr Drumknott wear a colour other than black or white before. It made his cheeks look even redder than usual, Nobby thought as he watched Drumknott adjust his glasses, or perhaps he was just blushing.

“Give us them,” Vimes said, gesturing, and Drumknott hesitated a moment before he drew his glasses from his nose, handing them over. Vimes took the frame in his hand, bending it in its place so that the arm of his glasses was straight again, and then he handed them back.

Drumknott took up his coat, and Nobby grabbed the box as they went back up the stairs, Vimes trotting ahead.

“He really going to kill him?” Nobby asked.

“I couldn’t say,” Drumknott said.

“Mr Drumknott,” said the Patrician as they entered the bullpen, and Nobby took a step back as Lord Vetinari came forward, grabbing Drumknott’s chin in a stern, concerned way that made Nobby think of the way the Patrician treated his dogs. It wasn’t superior, exactly, just that it was actually rather intent, almost paternal, and Drumknott didn’t draw away as Vetinari leaned in, one of his thumbs touching against the brow of Drumknott’s black eye. “Which one of them did this?”

“The blond one, sir,” Drumknott said quietly. “Mr Cuthbert, of Caddle Way, I believe.”

“They will, of course, be punished, to the full extent of the law,” Vetinari murmured, and Nobby watched the way the Patrician’s hand grasped at Drumknott’s arm, squeezing. Maybe it was paternal. Drumknott’d been his clerk for a long time, now, after all. It made sense that even Lord Vetinari’d care about someone, after that long. “Are you alright?”

“I’m angry, sir,” Drumknott said. “That’s all.”

“What— Mr Drumknott, what are you wearing?” Vetinari asked, leaning back to look at Drumknott’s ill-fitting jumper, and Drumknott smiled.

“Sergeant Colon worried I’d be cold, sir,” he said.

“Ah,” Vetinari murmured, and he glanced about the room, but Fred wasn’t here: he’d gone out to his own office, Nobby expected, to avoid all the fallout.

“Sir,” Vimes said, finally.

“I should like to bring the Sergeant back to the Palace,” Vetinari murmured.

The Patrician’s voice was a rumble, and Nobby saw Vimes’ shoulders draw back, ready to argue, but Drumknott said in a voice so low as to be as a whisper, “Perhaps you might observe the Watch Commander’s discipline from his office, my lord. It’s only the proper thing, as Sergeant Guster is directly under his purview.”

Vetinari was silent for a moment, his hand lingering on Drumknott’s shoulder as they met one another’s eye, and Nobby had no idea what they communicated to one another in that moment, but it seemed to span multitudes, a conversation, somehow, between two faces that didn’t change in their expression, two sets of eyes that were silently communicative in a way Nobby could scarcely comprehend.

“Mr Drumknott makes a fine point,” Vetinari said eventually, very slowly, not taking his gaze away from his clerk's face. “We shall… observe.”

Vimes relaxed, giving Drumknott a short glance.

“Right, sir,” he said. “Right.”

♔ ☩ ♔ ☩ ♔ ☩ ♔

Vimes demoted Guster right down to Corporal.

For a week, he didn’t say nothing. And it was down to Mr Drumknott and Vimes between them, Nobby supposed, if Lord Vetinari was convinced, that nothing happened to him, while he didn’t say nothing.

But then he did. Said—

Nobby didn’t even know what he’d said, exactly. He heard it from Fred, all para-whatsit, paraphrised, who said it while shaking his head, his teeth gritted, expression grim and distant. Fred had said Guster’d said… That the tailors had a chokehold on the city, now, that you couldn’t say nothing against it, anymore, that it wasn’t right.

He’d gone missing, then, that night.

No sign of him.

Nobby wasn’t surprised, really.

And he wasn’t—

Not that he thought it was good, for a man to disappear, but… He wasn’t a good man. It was one thing, to do little things here and there, but not to try and punish a man, for men trying to beat him up, trying to gang up on him. Acting like he was the criminal. And the other men, they were punished harsh, and that was good, he thought. The papers’d been talking about it, had been talking about the legislation, for harassing inverts, and talking about different words for it.

“Hullo, Mr Drumknott,” Nobby said as Drumknott came into Pseudopolis Yard, his boots making no sound at all on the wet stone, holding two parcels wrapped in brown paper and tied very neatly with string.

“Corporal Nobbs,” Drumknott said, with a small inclination of his head, and Nobby came up toward him, across the yard. Nobby squeezed the inside of his pockets to keep himself from reaching out to pick one of Drumknott’s pockets. Mr Drumknott hadn’t glared at him in two weeks, and he was surprised by how much he liked that.

The bruise was nearly healed on his eye, now.

“Here,” Drumknott said quietly, passing Nobby the two parcels. “Sergeant Colon’s jumper, pressed and cleaned, and some pastries from a café in Sator Square. There’s a note thanking him inside.”

“Oh, right,” Nobby said. “I’ll give it him.”

“Thank you,” Drumknott said cleanly.

“You couldn’t convince him, then?” Nobby asked, awkwardly.

“Pardon, Corporal?” Drumknott asked, tilting his head slightly.

“Er— The… Patrician. Not that I’m being nosy, or nothing, but Guster…”

“Ah,” Drumknott said. “I take your meaning.  The Patrician had naught to do with Guster’s disappearance.”

“Well, ‘course you have to say that,” Nobby said.

Mr Drumknott smiled. It was a small, tight smile. “No, Corporal,” he said delicately, “I do not. The Patrician had naught to do with it.” Nobby swallowed as understanding dawned, but Mr Drumknott’s smile softened slightly. “You were kind, as well, last week. My thanks.”

“S’alright,” Nobby said. “Is Stoker Blake alright? D’he look after you, after?” Drumknott’s gaze flickered down toward the cobbles for a moment, but then he met Nobby’s gaze again. He'd been with Stoker Blake two years now, Nobby thought, or maybe three. It was a serious thing, he thought, but then, Mr Drumknott was serious about everything.

“I hardly need looking after, Corporal,” Drumknott said, although he smiled just slightly as he stepped back toward the gate. “But, yes, he was very attentive, I assure you. I must back to the Palace, now: this was but a short errand.”

“Bye, Mr Drumknott.”

“Good afternoon, Corporal,” Drumknott said, and turned neatly on his heel, walking away from him.

[1] The last time Carrot had thrown the book at somebody, it had been literal, and the man had suffered a rather grisly death as a result.