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#truck & coach mechanic jobs
speedycoffeedelight · 5 months
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Hello! I've returned with more 'Reader helps get everyone a job' scenarios! And this time, not anon ✨️
Also, so happy to see you referenced my first ask, really made my day!
Anyway, scenarios begin.
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Reader: Velvette, this is the second job you've been fired from since you got here. There isn't exactly many clothing store in town and if you keep getting fired, you'll be deemed 'unhireable'.
Velvette: *Rolling her eyes on her phone* I don't see why you're so bothered by that, I'm already a small time influencer and with the way I'm manipulating the algorithm, I'll be monetised in no time. Besides, the clothes they sold there weren't even good enough for a dumpster fire.
Reader: Anyway... There's atleast 2 more clothing stores available before we have to start looking elsewhere, a sports clothes store and a thrift shop.
Velvette: Pfft, thrift shop? You can't in your right mind think I'd be touching second han- wait. *Types on her phone* Thifting is in, sign me up! And then call Princess in here, her little lamb form is guaranteed to get me more likes then that bitch Geraldine's yappy mutt in socks and sunglasses.
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Reader: Lute, I don't mean to be insulting or anything but I'm not sure if you could handle being a supermarket security guard. It can be a very dangerous job.
Lute: I understand you're concerns but allow me to lay them to rest with a quick demonstration of my capabilities.
*Lute quickly tackles Sir Pentious to the ground and pins him as he shouts a quick 'Why me?!'*
~
Adam: Listen Babe, I don't see what the issue is.
Reader: Adam, the bar is looking for a live band to there regularly, not a solo guitarist. Now I'm sure you are a wonderful singer-songwriter but they're not looking for a solo musician.
Adam: *Crossing arms* Fine. What other jobs are there.
Reader: Plenty, and almost all of them are places we've already got someone in so they can recommend you and you're pretty much guaranteed to be hired.
Adam: Okay Babe, fire away.
Reader: Well, the local cafés looking for another waiter (Charlies workplace).
Adam: Uh, pass.
Reader: The fast food joint needs another cashier. (Vaggies workplace)
Adam: Next.
Reader: The restaurant-dinner is willing to train up a sous-chef with no prior experience or qualifications (Angels/Husks workplace).
Adam: Eh, I don't cook.
Reader: The council is hiring more trash collectors, it sounds bad but has incredibly good pay (Niftys workplace).
Adam: As much as I'm down for driving a massive truck, somethings telling me to stay away from that little freak. She might stab me in the back or something.
Reader: You also don't have a driving license. Anyway, the radio station is hiring a files clerk (Alastors workplace).
Adam: They play rock or metal?
Alastor: *From another room* Nope!
Adam: Then, nah.
Reader: *Muttering to self* And I don't think you can work for the mechanics without a driving license either (Cherris workplace).
Reader: The florist is hiring. (Lucifers workplace).
Adam: *Fake gags*
Reader: What about working at that bowling alley and arcade pizzeria? (Voxs workplace)
Adam: *Sticks out tongue*
Reader: The clothing store? (Velvettes workplace)
Adam: *Raises eyebrow*
Reader: The local supermarket? (Lutes workplace)
Adam: *Pours slightly*
Reader: *Sighs and starts rubbing temple* Well, the only other places available is the post office and that steakhouse on the outskirts of town.
Adam: Steakhouse? Now that's what I'm talking about! Sign me up straight away.
Reader: I thought you said you don't cook.
Adam: Listen Babe, it's grilling, not cooking. Big difference. Besides, I literally invented the grill, you know? It's like 1 of the top 5 best ideas I ever had, you know, right next to naming a bunch of birds 'tits'.
Reader: You invented the grill? That's actually kinda impressive.
Lucifer: Don't flatter him, love. He had to invent a whole new way of cooking meat or else he'd have starved everytime Eve made him sleep on the coach.
Adam: HEY!
HEYYY!! Good to see you back again!! <⁠(⁠ ̄⁠︶⁠ ̄⁠)⁠>
Yeah , velvette gonna be a real bitch(HAH-) working at stores. She won't settle for anything that's not up to her taste.
* Reader sighing in the corner trying to find more shops.*
Poor Pentious, he had to be the example 🤣🤣
*the cast and reader giving Pentious concerned glances*
And there's Adam, the first man who can't settle on one job( just like girls- *gets shot in the head*). I can definitely see him inventing grilling like this 😂😂
Thank you yet again for your creative and unique headcannons! I truly enjoy reading them!! ✧⁠◝⁠(⁠⁰⁠▿⁠⁰⁠)⁠◜⁠✧
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bradshawssugarbaby · 11 months
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Hard to Forget - Willard Hewitt x Reader
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A/N: I wanted to branch out the list of characters I'd write for and since Willard is a fave of mine (I have a soft spot for dumb pretty country boys oops), I figured I'd roll with it.
Inspired by I Bet You Think About Me and Betty by Taylor Swift;
“But now that we're done and it's over, I bet you couldn't believe when you realized I'm harder to forget than I was to leave”
“But if I just showed up at your party, - Would you tell me to go fuck myself, - I’m only 17, I don’t know anything.” “Will you kiss me on the porch in front of all your stupid friends?”
pairing: Willard Hewitt (Footloose 2011) x f!reader
content/warnings: swearing, angst, Willard being a dummy, some pining, fluffy ending.
word count: 3k
“Willard, you can’t just go around kissin’ other girls and then telling me you love me, that’s not how this works!” 
“Well, maybe I dunno how any of this works, did’ya ever think that? Jeez, you’re puttin’ more rules on me than coach does for a football game, babe. Maybe I don’t wanna be in a relationship like this? I’m young, you know, I’m 19, I wanna be free and have fun while I still can. I’m gonna graduate soon and I wanna enjoy life before I get stuck workin’ a 9 to 5 somewhere. I know I’m not playin’ football when I get out, but I’m not plannin’ to be like everyone else back home and have a wife and kids and a dog before I turn 30.”
“Well then, maybe we should break up, Willard. Apparently according to you we were never anything to begin with, so it shouldn’t be too hard to call this off.” 
“Yeah, maybe we should.”
Willard’s words were like venom, stinging you as you walked away, hot tears threatening to overflow your eyes and stream down your face. You headed off to your dorm, trying your damnest to not let Willard’s indifference towards you get under your skin. You were determined to not let some country boy from a small town in Georgia break your heart, you were better than that. Before you left, you spun around on your heel and looked at him.
“Why don’t you go fuck yourself, Willard?” 
✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩✮ ⋆ ˚。
Five years later, and you had long moved on from the cute Southern country boy who’d tried to break your heart. You’d completed your university degree in Education, worked your ass off, determined to be happy with or without your ex boyfriend. You and Willard never crossed paths again at university, and you were sure you’d never see him again. That was, until you had to return home for the weekend. Your younger sister had just turned 16, and your presence was requested, causing you to make the four and a half hour one way trip down to Athens to be there for her party. You’d moved to South Carolina after graduation, landing a job with a school district in Charleston where you were hired on as a first grade teacher. Once you arrived back home in Athens, the memories of Willard and your years at university all came flooding back. Complicating these, was when your tire blew on your car. You had to have it towed to the nearest mechanic.
When you hopped out of the tow truck, you lifted your sunglasses up from your eyes, resting them atop your head, squinting as you walked into the garage. A tall man with dark hair and a deep Southern accent with his back turned to you as he wiped his hands off called out to you. There was a sense of familiarity as he spoke, an uncomfortable feeling brewed in you as he turned around. You saw his face, and nothing about him had changed - the same hazel eyes, dark brown curls, the faint scars on his cheek and his chin now almost unnoticeable. His breath audibly hitched as he saw you. 
“Well...hi,” Willard chuckled awkwardly as he saw you, taking a moment to register everything that had changed since you’d left him.
“Hi,” You responded coldly, your arms folded across your chest as you looked at him, “My tire blew, I just need one replaced. No I didn’t have a spare, just charge it to my credit card when you’re done, ok?” 
“Well now, is that anyway to talk to your ex boyfriend?” Willard smirked playfully, that same godforsaken twinkle in his hazel eyes that always won you over before still clearly present.
“Ex for a reason, Willard.”
“Not a good one,” He admitted as he nodded his head slowly, “I-uh-I’ve been thinking.”
“After 5 years? Seems a little late.”
“Listen, darlin’, I was a stupid kid,” he began, nodding slowly, “I never wanted to hurt ya.”
“Well, you just did a damn good job of that without even trying, didn’t you?” You rebuffed his attempt to discuss further and handed him your credit card so he could put the tire repair on file with your card. 
“I’m sorry, ok?” He said softly, his voice barely a whisper as he spoke. 
“I’m not.”
“I probably deserve that, I’ll admit,” Willard sighs and shakes his head, “Let me make it up to ya, ok? Maybe I could take you for dinner some time? How long are ya here for? I can’t cook for shit still, but I remember you always loved going out to that place near the campus, I could take you there if ya’d like?”
“Thanks, but I have plans.”
“I haven’t even told you when it is yet.”
“Well I’m only home for a weekend. It’s my sister’s sweet 16.”
Willard’s face fell as he nodded slowly. He sighed softly and handed you your card back, furrowing his brow as he spoke.
“S’pose I can’t convince you then, can I?” 
“What could you possibly say to fix it after five years, Willard?
He frowned again before gazing up at the clock on the wall. He nodded slowly and turned his attention back to you before speaking again.
“I’m off in 10 minutes, if you wait for me, I’ll explain everything. If you say my explanation and apology aren’t good enough, I’ll back off and you can pretend you never even met me. I’ll even fix that tire for free first before you go back home.”
You weighed your options as Willard looked at you hopefully, almost as if he was pleading you to agree. You sighed and shook your head before pointing a finger at him.
“Don’t disappoint me, ok?
“I’ll do my damnest not to, darlin’”
After 10 short minutes, you observed as Willard punched out his time card and trodded off to the change room to discard of his dirty, grease laden clothes. He smiled as he walked out to you, wearing jeans and a plain white t-shirt, his beat up old baseball cap from when you’d first met him now adorning his head. He laughed softly before turning to you once again and grinning.
“I’m impressed you waited for me,” Willard explained. 
As the two of you headed outside, you spotted his infamous beat up old pickup truck, looking as rough as ever parked outside. Willard grinned at you and laughed, “You used to love this truck, you know.”
“Yeah, when I was 19, I also loved country boys in cowboy hats who wiillingly broke my heart by kissing other girls while I thought we were dating exclusively,” You hissed at him.
If there was one thing you knew about Willard, it was that he didn’t give a single fuck if anyone didn’t like his truck. That truck was the only thing he loved more than his own mama, and Willard would spend every last dime he had to fix that awful thing just so he could continue cherishing it. He’d always been very set in his ways about everything. It was the reason why you’d split in the first place. He was so determined to “live freely” and “live his life” that he gave up anything he figured might have stopped him, including you.
“Listen, I’m sorry for what I did, yeah?” 
“So you’ve said.” 
“Just hear me out, ok? I was a stupid kid. I was 19, I didn’t know shit. I still don’t know shit at 24, but you know what I do know?” 
“How to count past 10 without taking your shoes off?” You retorted dryly.
“Hey now, I’m trying to be serious!” Willard laughed softly, “I know now that you never would have stopped me from doing whatever I had my heart set on. You would have encouraged me to just be happy. I appreciate that. I was just too stupid to pick up on that. I’m sorry I broke your heart. I also learned that you were so much harder to forget than you were to leave. Watching you walk away and hearing you tell me to go fuck myself gave me quite the ego check. And, I really did think you were the sweetest lil’ Georgia peach I’d ever met.”
You rolled your eyes as you tried to maintain your icy exterior towards him. On the inside though, you could feel your heart melt ever so slightly as he called you a Georgia peach - that had always been his saying when he thought you did something cute. He’d pat your cheek with his big hand, calloused from a combination of playing football and his studying to be a mechanical engineer, and grin at you as his thick as molasses Southern accent gushed at you. “Well ain’t you just as sweet as a Georgia Peach?” he’d always say. Half the time you figured he said it purely to make you blush. 
Willard took a step closer to you, his hazel eyes meeting with yours the way they had when you two had dated all those years ago. He sighed softly, almost happily as he saw you weren’t rejecting him this time around. His hand reached for yours slowly, his touch gentle and delicate, as if he was trying purposefully not to scare you away. He smiled softly as you allowed him to hold your hand, your lack of resistance giving him a glimmer of hope that you might have somehow found a way to forgive him. You would feel yourself wearing down against him, your cold, frozen exterior towards him melting away as he gently held your hand.
“Willard,” you frowned slightly as you looked down at his hand holding yours, trying to ignore the fact that your hand fit perfectly in his.
“Darlin’ I’m willing to do anything to prove to you that I’m not going to break your heart again if you give me the chance. I’ve spent the last five years realizing that those big dreams and aspirations I had in college weren’t going to come true without you. I never did make it out of college football, I never ended up travelling or leaving Georgia like I said I would, but, I mean, I do decently well for myself. When you left I realized you were what made me happy though - not travelling or football, or workin’ on cars. You. And when I didn’t have you to do all these things I’d dreamed of with, well, none of them seemed worth doin’ anymore.”
 You sighed softly as he gave your hand a gentle squeeze. You looked up at him, meeting those gorgeous hazel eyes you’d always loved, tears welling up in your own as you gave an understanding nod of your head. 
“Now, there’s my sweet lil’ Georgia peach,” he smirked as he stroked the back of your hand with his thumb. 
A rush of memories and a sense of familiarity came rushing over you as he spoke, calling you by the pet name that always made you weak in the knees years ago. You shook your head quickly as you tried to shake the feeling of nostalgia that was overtaking you.
“I should get going.” Your voice was soft-spoken, partially feeling guilty as you spoke.
Willard swallowed hard and nodded his head, trying to not sound defeated. He gestured his hand outward, pointing towards the street, forcing a hearty laugh and a big smile as he spoke.
“Yeah, might not wanna be late, your mama’d be so mad. Bet your sister wouldn’t be none too pleased either tho, would she?”
“No, I don’t suppose they would be. My sister’s party is supposed to start in,” You frowned as you looked at your watch and shook your head, “!5 minutes. Christ, I better start walking.”
“Don’t be silly, I’ll just drive you over. Sure your mama doesn’t want you wanderin’ your way around town to get home.”
You opened your mouth to argue but quickly closed it again. You knew he had a fair point, and you’d never make it there in 15 minutes by walking. Smiling, Willard opened the door of his truck for you, gesturing to the front seat for you to hop inside. You jumped up into the seat and nodded slowly as Willard took your bag out of your temporarily non-functioning car for you, placing it in the back. He climbed into the driver’s seat and turned the key over, the engine making its unique sputtering sound as it roared to life, the old engine sounding like it was clinging to life by a thread. 
“You know, I could fix ‘er, but I just…I dunno, the sound is sort of nostalgic for me, ya know? It’s comforting,” He chuckled.
You rolled your eyes and laughed as he drove towards your parents house. You directed him along the way, but once he found himself in the familiar neighbourhoods he used to drive through to pick you up all those years ago, he didn’t need your navigation skills anymore. He smirked as he pulled up out front of your parents’ home, watching as you hopped out of the truck. He raised an eyebrow as the crowd of your family members that was congregating outside of your garage. Willard waved politely to them, recognizing a few of their faces from family functions he’d accompanied you to years ago. He parked his truck and hopped out, smiling as he looked over to you.
“I take it you never did tell your mama the truth about why we broke up, did ya?” He whispered to you as your mom waved to him from the garage.
“No, I didn’t want to her to go sharpen her pitchfork to come after you with,” You smirked at him and shrugged your shoulders, “You’re welcome.”
As you came up closer to your family, you felt Willard put his hand gently on your back. Turning to you, he smiled softly and whispered in your ear gently.
“Sorry, just trying to make it seem like we didn’t quite break up as badly as we did,” he nodded as he let out a soft chuckle.
You nodded slowly in agreement and smiled at your family members as Willard joined you. He laughed as your dad wrapped an arm Willard’s shoulders, pulling him in to talk for a moment, as he would have with an old friend. Willard gave you an apologetic smile as he shrugged, not realizing that your family would have missed his presence so much. 
✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩✮ ⋆ ˚。
A few hours later, Willard was still hanging out at the party, unable to make a quick getaway as your family members wanted to hear about all the things he’d done over the last five years. In a way, you were glad they were so welcoming towards him once again, happy to see that he was still considered family by your loved ones. You couldn’t help but notice the butterflies you got every time you saw him smile or laugh while he spoke, like he was genuinely enjoying himself, it showed to you that what he had said earlier about missing you had been completely heartfelt. 
As everyone started to head out, you met Willard on your parents front porch, smiling softly as he held your hand again under the warm glow of the porchlight beside the door. You could feel the gaze of your family members peering through the curtains at you, all secretly and silently hoping that one of you would give a sign that you were rekindling what you’d once had together. 
“Thanks for letting me stick around, I missed seeing everyone, I missed how nice your folks are,” Willard nodded, smiling brightly at you, his cheeks turning pink as he spoke.
“I don’t think they would have given me the option to send you home without staying, to be fair.”
There was an awkward silence in the air between you two as Willard’s eyes met yours. He bit his lip softly and laughed, shaking his head, his dark brown curls becoming perfectly tossed, his discarded baseball cap shoved into his back pocket from when he sat down for dinner earlier. 
“You know, I really wanna kiss you right ‘bout now.”
“Strangely enough, you’re kinda making me wanna kiss you right ‘bout now too,” you teased.
With that, Willard put his hands on your waist, pulling you in close for a kiss. His lips were soft, with a sense of hunger and passion added to the chemistry between you. You could tell just by how his lips met with yours that he’d been craving this for the last five years. That he’d wanted nothing more than to hold you close and kiss you under the porchlight like had so many times before. And if you were being honest, you’d craved it too all these years, as much as you hated to admit it.
“So, where does this leave us then?” You raised an eyebrow at him, “‘Suppose I can’t hate you anymore if I’m letting you kiss me like that, now can I?”
“Don’t suppose you can, sweetheart. Looks like you may have to agree to datin’ me again?”
“Is that so?”
“Now come on, my lil’ Georgia peach, don’t make me get on my knees and beg you to take me back in front of your folks. You know I will.”
You laughed softly and pressed your lips to his again, murmuring into the kiss as your lips touched. 
“Come ‘ere, country boy,  you’re mine now.”
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azsazz · 5 months
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Hiii 👋 just wanted to say I adore your writing ☺️ I always get so happy when I see you’ve written something new 😁
I was curious to ask, what are some of your favourite modern AU jobs/roles for the bat boys (whether you’ve written about them or not)? Or just any ACOTAR characters?
CEO Rhys has been done a lot, but for good reason, it’s so perfect. He almost has to be effortlessly rich and/or in some position of power, like a prince, or a mafia boss.💰 I also kinda like to imagine him as a nepo baby set to take over his father’s company, but he breaks away or gets cut off, so with his very little actual job experience (as he was all set to inherit), he gets a barista job at a lil coffee shop. ☕️
Cass would definitely suit something physical, like an ice hockey player, or a firefighter, or a personal trainer. I could so see him being a gym teacher as well, imagine him coaching a kids ice hockey team. 💪🏽 He would SO volunteer to be a nude model in life drawing classes in his free time 😆 Though I hadn’t considered it before I read your stuff, I think he really fits a small town rancher too. I can so picture him in jeans, boots, and a flannel shirt, driving around in an old rusty faded red truck 👨‍���
Az could easily be in the FBI or something, but choosing something further away from his canon role, I seriously think he’d be an awkward computer programmer / software engineer nerd, or a twitch gamer, 👨🏻‍💻 with a secret anonymous OnlyFans or erotic audio patreon on the side. 😏 And I reckon he’d ride a motorcycle and tinker with it in his spare time, so might also enjoy working at a garage. 🏍️ I really love him in Midnight Muse, and think he suits a shy amateur artist / tattoo artist as well.
I also love the bat boy band idea I’ve seen a lot recently, where Rhys is the charismatic lead singer and guitarist, Az is the quiet songwriting bassist, and Cass is the energetic drummer. 🎶
Sorry it’s so long, I just love thinking about this stuff 😄
Hiiii!! Thank you so so much! I saw this message this morning but wanted to wait until I could give it my full attention and have my computer around, so thank you for your patience! 💙
Okay, some of my favorite AUs for the batboys? This is a wonderful question!
Rhys: Normally, I just think of Rhys as always having some sort of money/job inherited. So CEO, mafia, anything that puts him in a position of power, really, but i think it's mostly because those just reflect the books.
I do, however, love love love art school rhys. painter rhys. working at the local art supply degenerate rhys who still has wealthy parents but is trying to stick it to the man rhys. steals erasers and petty things from the art supply rhys. love him so much.
There's also something to be said about young adult rhys who's messing around with his little sister's best friend rhys. he gets me going too.
also captain of the hockey team rhys is a solid choice for him as well.
Cass: LOVE ME SOME RANCHER/COWBOY/SMALL TOWN CASSIAN. but, these are all very different. small town cass doesn't trust women, heart broken at a young age with the girl he thought was his forever. doesn't want to leave town, likes the ranch because its safe and its what he knows. cowboy cass or bull rider cassian, famous for breaking horses and backs. grumpy, gruff rancher cassian always gets me going tbh he's fucking hot as shit
i also always see him in a blue collar role like a mechanic or welder are the two i mostly attribute to him.
def something physical as well, we love hockey cass, rugby cass, wrestler (wwe lol) cass, dang i had another on my mind for sports cass but i forgot. sad. OH surfer cassian. jock type tho i can see him as. love the firefighter vibe for him too, he'd fill out the tight fire department t-shirt WELL LADIES and also volunteers for wet t-shirt contests. omg gym teach cass would be adorable as hell! oof another thought, contractor cassian ffs that would be so yummy
Az: Az i agree fits the FBI (stalker) vibes. i also like to think of him in finance or computer science too. omfg the erotic audio that's iconic and i'd def subscribe to that. hmmm what else could i see azzy doing...maybe something with music or writing...i could see him being a ghost writer of some sort and then one day his song plays on the radio and he's like hey i wrote that and literally no one believes him. something behind the scenes or where he can go unnoticed is mostly where i place him, tbh. honestly maybe even something military because he takes comfort in having a set schedule and people telling him what to do at every minute of the day. he'd fare well i think. perfect. operative because if the mission goes south and he gets captured he's not telling a soul anything.
Eris: idk why this thought came to my head but i was thinking about architecture but i think eris would be a fantastic interior designer lol. like i could see it. maybe i was just thinking about him furnishing az's new place and having a lil sparky. i could also see him as a lawyer too or something like that, something where he can be the know-it-all, smirking at them and looking down his nose at them...
Lucien: Architecture for sure. or professor. I could see him doing either of these. maybe even lawyer tbh, he would be good at that too, though i know he's immaculate at twisting stories and words so you gotta be careful of that.
Tamlin: poet? lol. professional gaslighter? jk i love tammy. maybe he installs security systems? haha just kidding just kidding. he's a tough one tho. idk why i added him but i guess also a musician but low-key soothing music, instrumental for sure...prob has a podcast where he just bullshits all day
hopefully i didn't rant for too long about this 🤭💙 this was so much fun though thank you for asking!
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thestobingirlie · 11 months
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future st characters’ jobs (and why)
kids:
dustin — middle school science teacher. i think he’d want to take after mr. clarke, and he’s the one that parrots his phrases more than the other kids, so i just feel like it fits. i think he’d enjoy teaching others.
lucas — nasa scientist. he has pictures of astronauts in his room, and that’s my excuse, because he just has the vibes, okay? he rides his bike to work, and he has a little “go green” sticker on the family car.
max — guidance counsellor/child therapist/social worker. something along those lines. i think she’d want to help kids that come from her kind of situation. she knows what it’s like, and she knows how they can isolate themselves, and i think she’d want to help.
mike — i think he’d go to college, get a degree, and then get a job that has nothing to do with lol. i see people having mike as a writer a lot, but i guess i just don’t see it. idk. some people are just gonna end up working in an office, and that’s okay lmao
will — artist will seems popular, and i can kinda see him as a comic book artist or something. but i also could see art as maybe something that’s more of a hobby, and it’s not his, like, career. i think about will the least of all the kids, sadly, so. i got nothing lol.
el — i think she works a lot of odd jobs. she wants to explore, and she wants to learn about the world. she dedicates herself to making jam, and she has chickens. there’s still a lot she doesn’t know, and i just don’t know if she’d settle down in one single career. actually i could kinda see her working at a museum for a bit. like a museum tour guide. she gets to have fun and learn! being cut off from the world for so long, i’d think she’d enjoy being surrounded by it.
erica — politician. she likes lying to people and commanding rooms lmao. i don’t think she’d be, like, president, but more just a small town mayor or something.
teens:
nancy — private investigator. i know that people think she’ll stick with journalist for the rest of her life, but i think she’d start to chafe against the control, and she’d want to do her own work and help people. she’s going through her murray era. but she’s less of a freak lmao
steve — stay at home dad <3 no but seriously, there’s a lot i could see with steve, but little league coach steve is very special to me. he gets to do something sporty, and work with kids
robin — i think she (and steve) work a lot of different jobs, and really jump around and have fun with it, and explore what they want to do. in the end, i think robin would enjoy a job where she can travel, and put all her language skills to good use.
jonathan — photographer. it’s the obvious one, but i think he’d enjoy freelance photography. he’d get to travel a little, and have some space from his family lmao.
argyle — i want to include argyle. but we really know nothing about him 💔 maybe a botanist or something lmao
vickie — i know she’s only a side character, but i don’t care <3 i’ll always be in love with truck girl vickie, so her as a mechanic is fun to me.
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bcolfanfic · 6 months
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thinking abt my sweetie pie, young vets au!ken. his job was Planes...and what a good job he did at Planes with the boys in bagram. came back to the states after the war and decided to move to nyc for a change of pace.
tried to stick with what he knew and do the mechanic thing, quickly discovered it wasn't the same anymore and kinda hated it.
met up with curt when he remembered he was also living in the city. didn't hate that. at all.
kinda became the "guy that is on a new side quest every week" friend trying to find something to do when he realized mechanics had lost the spark for him.
tried a lot of things- florist, working in a food truck, barista, working in IT, selling knives. eventually found his groove again coaching a kids soccer league.
kenny is good with kids, the kids love him right back and he likes soccer so it works out.
kenny also likes curt.
a lot.
he likes him more and more every time they hang out in curt's little studio apartment or curt has him tag along with him to the gym he's a personal trainer at.
and kenny isn't out to *anyone* except for curt, not even his parents- hell, he's barley out to himself.
but he figures that's a problem for future kenny. *right now* his problem is finding as much free time as he can to sit in curt's lap and be cute. (:
not like curt is complaining.
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camaro-and-smokes · 9 months
Text
Get Out of My Dreams, Get Into My Car
Chapter 1: Who's That Girl
Read on tumblr: CH 1 [CH 2] / ?
Read on AO3 >>
No Warnings. Characters: Billy Hargrove, Steve Harringtonm Other Characters to Be Added, Original characters. Tags: AU - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, AU - No Supernatural, AU - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Billy Hargrove Lives, Gay Billy Hargrove, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Fluff, 90s, Genderfluid Billy Hargrove, Roommates, Other Tags to Be Added
Summary: 1992 in San Diego, where Steve recently moved because of his new job, he runs into Billy - literally. Billy isn't exactly what he used to be when Steve had last seen him, but it isn't a bad thing. At all. By chance, they end up as roommates and, well…
Notes: New year, new fic... Just pure fluffy fluff fluff! Enjoy 💜
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“Thanks, Mandy,” Billy said and lifted the cardboard cup. “I’ll pay for this tomorrow.”
The waitress on the other side of the counter smiled. “Hey, it’s just one black coffee. Don’t worry about it. I’ll cover for it.”
Billy sighed, grateful for the gesture. “Honestly, thank you. I owe you.”
Mandy laughed. “Just go already. You'll be late again otherwise.”
Billy adjusted the strap of his full bag on his shoulder and walked towards the door. He realized he hadn’t taken out his smokes when he had the chance to do it with two hands, and now he had to do it with just one. “Fucking piece of...where are you?” he cursed as he tried to fish the pack of smokes from the bag while walking out of the coffee shop and onto the sidewalk.
He was so occupied that he almost walked into someone, their shoulders nudging together. The cover was the only thing that kept his coffee in the mug , only partly spilling it on his hand. He muttered an apology as he continued digging. He was all the way at the next junction when he finally caught the pack in his hands and stopped to light a smoke.
This day was one he would be glad when it passed. The Camaro had stalled into a junction in the morning, he'd had to have walked to the workshop to get the tow truck and then he had been so busy with other cars the whole day that he’d had no time to even look at what was wrong with it. And now he was late from his aerobics' class because he had to fucking walk everywhere, and he'd been late far too many times from the classes already. Alice, the owner of the studio, had already warned him she would have to cut him off from the instructor list if he didn't up his game, and fast.
And now he really needed the money. When Rob had broken up with him, he'd decided to stay in the bungalow by the beach they'd rented together. It was the first place that felt like home ever since he'd ran away from Fuckward, Indiana, and back to Cali, and he didn't want to let go of it.
At that bungalow, he'd become to terms with who he was. Happy to have a day job at the garage as a mechanic and the few aerobics classes he instructed at evenings, the neighbourhood kids' basketball team he coached that kept nailing it against the uptown teams, and the kids from foster families he taught how to surf. The musky but feminine perfumes perfectly fitting in the same row with his aftershaves. The pink crop tops in his closet, and the red nail polish and lipsticks on his dressing table.
He was being himself for the first time, and since it was now just him, he would embrace it now more than ever.
He just needed someone to pay the rent with him.
---
Steve was reading the 'for rent' -advertisements in the newspaper while he walked towards the coffeehouse at the street corner, a short walk away from his hotel and one he'd taken as his go-to place to get something small to eat. He was so occupied that he didn't notice the person who walked out the door and their shoulders connected shortly, causing him to take his eyes off the newspaper.
“Oh, sorry,” Steve apologised, but the person kept walking without turning around. Their perfume lingered in the air after them, and Steve turned to look over his shoulder after them. He smiled a little, for it was a sight to behold.
Blonde, curly hair in a high bun, held up with a pink scrunchie. Their white crop top showed a well-toned back and waist, finished with blue, high cut jeans that were hugging their figure and barely covering the top of their thighs. The look was finished with white leg warmers and white Reeboks. Steve thought he wouldn't mind looking at that sight a bit closer and kept staring until they vanished behind the building at the next junction.
He walked into the coffee shop and ordered a black coffee and a chocolate chip muffin. With his purchase, he sat down at a table in the back of the shop and kept reading the advertisements. He had to find a place to stay by the end of the week. Sure, he could stay in the hotel, but it would cost way too much he was willing to spend right now. He'd rather pay rent for a place of his own than for a hotel.
He'd moved in San Diego for the job as marketing manager for the national video rental chain that Family Video back in Hawkins had become a part of. The job would start next Monday and it was Wednesday, so he had a few days free to do some hunting for a place. He wasn't looking for buying a house right now, he still wasn't sure if San Diego was the place he'd want to settle in. So, for now he was only looking for rentals, either by himself or with a roommate, either one worked right now.
Unfortunately, none of the ads looked like a proper fit. They either had too high rent for his budget, or then it was a room with a bunch of college kids, which didn't suit him anymore. He wouldn't be able to live in a place full of young adults partying all week, every week. He'd imagined it would've been easier to find a place to stay in San Diego, but it didn't really seem like it.
When he'd drank his coffee, he walked back to the counter. “Hey, would it be possible for me to leave a wanted ad on your notice board?” he asked the waitress.
“Sure! Need a pen and paper to do that with? I can put the note up for you.”
Steve wrote the note and gave it to the waitress. He squinted to read her name on the badge on her apron. “Thank you... Mandy. I'm staying in the Holiday Inn just around the corner. Thus the mention to ask for a name in the note.”
She looked at the note and smiled. “No problem. You're not the first.”
Steve hoped that someone would respond sooner rather than later.
He stopped by the café on Thursday and on Friday, mostly because he wanted to ask Mandy if anyone had asked about his ad since no one had called him. And, okay, partly because he was hoping to run into the blonde again. But no one had asked about his note so far and the blonde wasn't anywhere to be seen, so he'd gone about his days getting to know his new home town.
It was Saturday when he was yet again reading the 'room for lent' -ads in the newspaper as he walked towards the café. He had almost given up any hope of finding any place by Monday and was looking at the ads just with a vague hope.
He was engulfed enough that he didn't look in front of him and walked straight into someone. He hit his face into the newspaper, and then he felt hot liquid covering the front of his shirt.
“Fuck!” a baritone voice groaned.
Steve tossed the now wet newspaper on the pavement and looked at his shirt, annoyed. Then he looked at the door of the café, pondering if he should go in and ask for a towel to dry the coffee off his shirt. He turned to look at the person squatting on the sidewalk, trying to gather the things that had fallen out of their bag on the ground when they walked into each other.
To Steve's surprise, it was the blonde.
They got up and started damping Steve's shirt with a napkin they'd found from among their things on the sidewalk. “I'm so, so sorry! Shit! I didn't look up and...”
Steve's mouth fell open in surprise. “Hargrove?”
Billy looked up for the first time, and his eyes widened as he recognized Steve. “Harrington? Fuck, this is embarrassing.”
Steve let out a laugh. “Uh, yeah. Not exactly how I thought we'd bump into each other.”
The cafe door opened and Mandy walked out. “I saw what happened. Here, try this,” she said and handed Steve a towel. “I hope the coffee wasn't too hot anymore.”
“Thanks, I'll survive,” Steve replied, smiling. He patted his shirt with the towel and turned to look at Billy, who was still collecting his belongings from the sidewalk. “So, how've you been? I mean, you seem to be...”
“I'm doing good,” Billy mumbled, still squatting on the ground and checking his bag.
Steve saw something rolling on the sidewalk and he took a few steps to pick it up. It was a pink lipstick. He showed it to Billy. “This...yours?”
Billy smiled a tense smile, taking the small container and opened it. The pink tube of wax fell out from the tube and back to the pavement, breaking into even smaller pieces. “Fuck,” he groaned.
“Uh, hey, can I buy you a fresh coffee or...?” Steve asked.
Billy shook his head, pulling the zipper of his bag closed and getting up. “Sorry, I gotta go. I'm already late, again.”
“You have a car close by?”
“No, in fact, my trusty steed died the other day and I have to walk to the studio,” Billy said as he shouldered his bag and started walking. “But see you around Harrington!”
Billy had already taken several steps when Steve shouted after him, “Hey, Hargrove! I have a car, on the other side of the street. Let me drive you! It's the least I can do for breaking your...lipstick.”
Billy stopped and turned around, chewing his cheek. “You wouldn't mind?”
Steve smiled and shrugged. “No, of course not! Come on,” Steve said and pointed to a dark red BMW on the other side of the street. “It's that one.”
Billy snorted. “Should've guessed.”
When they got into the car, Steve started it. “So, where to?”
“Turn around, turn right, then left from the next lights. The studio is then just before the next lights,” Billy said.
“So, right around the corner, then.”
Billy shook his head. “Yeah. It's not far, but you know, without a car...”
Steve nodded and turned the car around.
After a while of awkward silence Billy spoke. “So, what are you doing in San Diego?”
Steve smiled again. “Came here for work. Marketing for the video rental chain that bought Family Video.”
“Wow,” Billy said, nodding. “Good for you.”
“Yeah. Far enough from having to work for my dad.”
“Right.”
They remained silent for the rest of the short drive, one that was even more awkward than the one before. 
Billy hadn't imagined to run into Steve again, not at least like this. And he hadn't definitely imagined to run into him in the outfit he was wearing. Seen his lipstick of all things. Steve was the first of the people from his past who'd learned about all that, even if only superficially. Surprisingly, it didn't really feel as bad as he'd imagined.
Steve looked at the neon sign above the doors of the aerobics' studio when he parked the car. “Alright, here we are.”
Billy got out and was about to close the door when Steve spoke again, leaning to look at Billy. “Hey, I just, honestly...It was great to see you. You're clearly doing great. I'm happy about that.”
Billy smiled. “Yeah. I'm better. Actually.”
Steve smiled and nodded. “Yeah, I can tell. Just wondered about it sometimes.”
Billy closed the door and leaned to look at Steve through the open window. “You did?” he asked, curious.
“I did. Actually.”
Billy smiled a small smile. “Well, I hope you like San Diego.”
“Yeah. Me too,” Steve replied, smiling even wider.
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trainalt22 · 7 months
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1955-1956
In 1955, the traffic to the NWR showed no signs of stopping. The express went from 6 coaches to 8, and Gordon enjoyed the new challenge. However, with Thomas on his branch line and Edward overseeing the Suddrey branch line, Tidmouth was left without a pilot. This meant that the big engines had to marshal their trains, much to their detriment. In February of 1955, the three big engines went on strike.
The new Fat Controller was furious that he could have gone six months without an incident. He went to Tidmouth to investigate. When he arrived, he was frustrated that his engines would strike over something as petty as this. But he soon reached a compromise with the engines. They would go back to work immediately, and as they did, he would look for a pilot. They reached an understanding and soon left for their trains.
Sir Topham came across an offer for a small saddle tank. From the looks of it, they were a kitbash of some kind from an independent workshop, a rarity in the time of British Rail. The engine, Percy, was cheap, and he needed a quick fix to the issue at Tidmouth. Percy was elated to have been bought. He saw more use in the industrial sector than on a railway. His kit-bashed nature made Topham wary of purchasing him, but after ample testing, Percy was in full mechanical order and ready for work.
Thomas's schedule was shifted so that he could have more time between trains to help Percy learn how to marshal trains. The two got on immediately. Percy found his gruff, sarcastic nature reminiscent of his old manager at the steelworks where he was built. Percy was a quick learner. He had experience shunting, but his size made it far easier for him to slip into tight sidings. He soon zipped around the yard. Of course, Thomas said he could do it better, but he was proud of how far Percy had come in such little time. By April, Thomas's schedule had gone back to normal, and Percy was adapting to his new job running the yard and bringing smaller trains from the yard to the docks.
The Tidmouth Harbour saw an increase in traffic as well, and Percy was soon overwhelmed. So Sir Topham approached the Tidmough Harbor board to buy a new locomotive. The board couldn't find an engine quick enough, and by spring, the port was soon overwhelmed. The Fat Controller, annoyed with the bottleneck of traffic, loaned an engine from British Rail. As Sodor had limited infrastructure for the newer "revolutionary" diesel locomotives, BR begrudgingly sent a steam engine. Montague was his name, but he preferred Duck, a nickname he picked up in his days as the pilot for Paddington Station.
The port was soon sorted, and the Fat Controller saw it fit to take a holiday to East Anglia. While there, he discovered a disused tram line, and against his wife's wishes, went snooping around. He found a small engine shed showing signs of overgrowth. Inside was a slumbering tram engine, a C53 from the looks of it. They were in pristine condition. They soon awoke, startled by the man who they believed to be a vandal. But after introductions were exchanged, the tram engine, or Toby as he liked to be called, was curious about the holidaying railway controller. He listened to his tales of the North Western from when he was a boy. Toby asked the controller rather bluntly if he had room for him as retired life wasn't what it was cracked up to be. The controller promised that if he needed a tram, he would come to Toby post haste. This pleased the tram, and they soon said their farewells.
Meanwhile, back on Sodor, Percy was getting bored of his station pilot duties. And while Duck was a lovely engine, he was trying at times. He would always go on and on about the great Western way, which Percy found to be too strict and disciplined for his industrial laid-back attitude. Thomas, on the other hand, was well-acclimated to his branch line. He would take passengers to Tidmouth and trucks to the harbor. But it was getting a bit much for the tank engine, although Thomas didn't mind the hard work.
It wasn't until the Fat Controller got back from his vacation that Thomas ran into an issue. The old constable that was in charge of Ffarquar retired, and a new, younger officer was hired. The first time he saw Thomas, he flagged him because Thomas didn't have any wheel coverings. It was illegal for him to run on the tracks from the quarry to Ffarquar station as they passed through the town on the roads. As such, Thomas was forbidden from running up to the quarry unless he had proper wheel coverings.
Sir Topham Hatt soon arrived to find Thomas and the officer in a full-fledged argument, shouting back and forth. After he was able to defuse the situation, he was told that if he couldn't find an engine to the requirements, then he was forbidden from going any further up the line than the officer's post. And if any of his engines were caught going through Ffarquar without the proper modifications, then he would be fined. He thought back to Toby and quickly went home to write to his controller.
By 1956 Toby was on Sudrian soil and being repaired to full working order and started to work up in the quarry his schedule was earlier than Thomas's but for good reason, he would take the first shift of workmen up to the quarry and bring the stone back to Farquhar
This soon turned into an issue however Toby had a significantly shorter trip than Thomas so stone trucks were just piling up in Farquhar and Thomas couldn't pull all of them down to the Harbor
With an overflow of trucks at Ffarquhar
It became apparent that another engine was going to be needed on Thomas's branchline however after Toby's purchase the board of directors voted against buying another engine
Thopam soon found a solution and went to Tidmouth Harbor to find Percy
When asked if he would like to work on a branchline instead of being a station pilot Percy immediately agreed luckily the harbor board found an engine to purchase they were a class 08 diesel fresh out of the works they didn't have a name just a number D3102
They arrived in Sodor later that year and soon proved how revolutionary diesels were he could be ready to go at the twist of a key and usually was the first out of the shed shunting the early morning trains like the flying kipper or overnight goods
Duck however was fed up with the new diesel as he was extremely prejudiced against steam engines saying how they all had outlived their usefulness and were heading for the torch
Duck scoffed at this but deep down he was concerned he was only on loan from BR if he went back he could be cut up
This drove Duck to be better than D3102 or diesel as he was the only one of his type on Sodor it made for an easy nickname
Duck strove for greatness he kept up with diesel at every turn sparking a heated rivalry between the two
Duck had managed to convince a line of trucks to hold back if Diesel tried moving them to which they gleefully agreed with the trucks ready duck feigned illness to get Diesel to move them and when he tried they wouldn't move an inch diesels wheels slipped on the wet harbor tracks as he pulled harder and harder until the coupling snapped launching diesel into the buffers at the end of the key
Diesel hung precariously over the edge of the key below him was the sea and a swift demise he screamed for help and Duck rushed to his aid with the two attached ducks gave a swift heave but Diesel was heavier than he expected ducks wheels began to slip and diesel swayed his middle wheel was close to sliding off the pier when a barge slid under him but he didn't have time to question it as the coupling gave and he fell onto the barge slightly damaging his front end
Duck and the barge captain were praised for their quick thinking while Diesel was certain that Duck planned the accident but without proof, he couldn't go to the fat controller
Later that night Henry was set to take a goods train when he arrived in Tidmouth the trucks in the sidings all called him square wheels and a useless engine
Who was undeserving of their rebuild Henry was appalled angrily bumping the trucks when questioned they said Duck told them about his rebuild
Later that week James passed Duck pulling a goods train to Ellsworth and the trucks began saying that James's red paint made him look like rusty scrap iron duck didn't hear so he just smiled at James when he overtook him
Gordon who was napping at Tidmouth station was awoken by some truck singing
"Old number four that gallant galloping sausage always pulls the express what a bore to rush from place to place as that big blue disgrace" they giggled loudly as Gordon stormed off in a huff
The three big engines summoned the fat controller to Tidmouth sheds that night they made their complaints known rather bluntly calling for Duck to be sent away in disgrace sir topham however summoned Duck to Tidmouth so he could defend himself
The big engines welcomed Duck harshly calling him a liar and a manipulator diesel who was in the yard approached the scene cautiously he interjected that he speculated Duck caused his accident because of how quickly Duck came to his aid after saying he was ill
This and the insults that the others had received forced Sir Topham who believed that Duck hadn't spread the rumors to send the poor pannier away for the time being he sent him to work with Edward at Welsworth
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disneytva · 1 year
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“I love the idea of opening up a child’s imagination and challenging a child’s mind,” she says. “That’s always been something I’ve gravitated towards, and it makes the job even more fulfilling than just creating a beautiful visual.”
Abigail Nesbitt has been featured on Variety's Top 10 Animators To Watch of 2023 sponsored by Nickelodeon
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As the supervising director of Disney Junior’s “Pupstruction” — a pre-K animated series about a team of canine construction workers — Nesbitt sought inspiration from a plethora of real-world sources, learning about engineering, hydraulics, and industrial machinery to make the show’s tot-friendly world as tangible as possible. Fortunately, she didn’t have to go far. “Here in my apartment on 9th Street in Brooklyn, they’ve been building a subway immediately outside for the last three years,” she says. “So if I need to check out how a particular truck works, I just have to go outside.” With a decade-plus career as a storyboard artist for kids’ animation projects like “Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles” and Sesame Street’s “Abby’s Flying Fairy School,” Nesbitt moved up into storyboard directing for Disney Junior toons “Goldie and Bear” and “T.O.T.S.” — the latter of which introduced her to “Pupstruction” creator Travis Braun. Though it sometimes doesn’t get the same respect as animation aimed at older kids and adults, working on preschool-targeted shows allows Nesbitt the opportunity to indulge her imagination while still grounding fantastical worlds in real-life mechanics that a child can comprehend. “I love the idea of opening up a child’s imagination and challenging a child’s mind,” she says. “That’s always been something I’ve gravitated towards, and it makes the job even more fulfilling than just creating a beautiful visual.” Taking on her first role as a supervising director, Nesbitt credits “Pupstruction’s” close-knit team with helping her make the transition seamlessly, and she hopes to use her position to extend the same sorts of opportunities to other budding female animators. “I hadn’t actually seen another woman in the position of some of the jobs I worked on. So I love the idea of mentoring and coaching and helping other female animators and artists, letting them know that there are so many opportunities and stories for them to tell as well.”
Abigail Nesbitt has a series of her own on development at Disney Junior Educational Resource Group for Disney Junior
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Text
On humanized trains.
First of all making it clear I'm not hating on anyone who has made the trains human. Like at all. I have seen some killer fucking designs all across the board and you guys are telling some amazing stories.
But for me, something never quite sat right with that.
To me, one of the biggest parts of TTTE was the mechanics, the vivid descriptions of how various parts of an engine might be similar to, but not wholly the same as any organic creature we could think of.
So, alright then, just make the trains stay Normal Trains. Which is also good! And again, there are some folks out there doing a fantastic job under this concept! But still not quite what I wanted. I really do enjoy the concepts of the engines being able to really interact with each other. To hit each other for being stupid, to stretch their legs and go for a run, to cough and splutter and trip and bend and, well, you get the idea.
So then I've seen some people get around this by making the engines shapeshifters. A solid workaround! But that wasn't quite for me, either. One of the other things I enjoyed was the idea of the engines having a dedicated crew they interact with, of the humans and engines being separate entities with an intertwined lifestyle.
Alright then, so what's my take? How have I decided to make an iteration of the engines I enjoy playing around with?
Well, it's quite simple, really.
Just make them humanoid.
...No, not humanized. Humanoid.
They are shaped like humans, yes. They've got two legs and two arms and a head perched right on top.
But they are still machines. Robots, you might call them. Mech might also be applicable, they've got a crew after all.
Ok ok dramatic intro aside I have had. SOOOOOO many thoughts about the engines as humanoid machines and how they would function and how their crews would operate and little design quirks and wordplay and how the trucks or coaches might be interpreted and so so so SO many more details have all been rattling around in my head. I also didn't really see another concept like this floating around? Which surprised me ngl? But then again, I might have just not rooted around enough, I'm kinda new to the fandom and all, haha.
It's kinda late where I am so I'll probably wait til tomorrow to give an in-depth run-down on general engine construction, but with all that said!
Welcome to the au!
(Ask box is open!)
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on-call-ramblings · 1 year
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During my senior year of high school I took a class called “Capstone” that was suppose to be an easy elective class to teach you how to go college and apply for scholarships. It turned out be the best decision I made that year.
I lucked out with the teacher I had. A man who radiated joy and a man who loved his job. He took it a step further than college and gave tips on how to succeed in life. Not only did he make up do research on what career we wanted, but he had us conduct interviews to people who worked in the industry. He didn’t just give us examples of what to do when you’re stranded in the middle of an abandoned highway, he drove up his truck to show us how to change a tire, oil, windshield wipers, and many other basic mechanical knowledge. He didn’t just tell us how to manage our fiancés, he told us the most efficient ways to calculate a budget for rent, groceries, and the best companies in the area to use when we filed for taxes for the first time. I still look through the binder I had for that class whenever I need help with something in my day to day life.
One day after watching one of those inspirational movies you watch during school, we had a group conversation. The movie itself was pretty heavy and there was some legit deep conversation. The concluded the whole discussion with “everyone you meet is different, and everyone you meet is going to be a little messed up. We all are. If you’re not, you haven’t lived long enough or loved hard enough.”
That phrase still sticks with me. I feel like after that day my ability to extend grace and understanding grew more than I initially realized. I always thought I had a rough go at high school, but all the sudden, at that moment, so did everyone else. None of us were every different from each other. I often extended that moment in my work, connecting to every grieving friend and family member I meet. It definitely helps keep the compassion fatigue away.
So, on days like today where I can’t get out of my own head and I can’t come up from a low, I know there’s probably someone in the room with the same feelings. Whoever that may be, we’ll live to see the sun shine soon.
Also, if by the off chance you see this Coach Belvins: thanks for everything ❤️ I hope that one day I can obtain the infectious joy you carry.
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bunnyjoyce-blog · 2 years
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How to Write Rust Repair (Rusty/Wrench)
So, I finally wrote it: a quick guide for writing Rust Repair (Rusty/Wrench).
1. Get an idea of their individual characterizations.
Even if you have to supplement their (relatively thin) canon personalities with a few extra things, it’s good that you, the author, have an idea of who each character is, what they do, what they want, and why. If you can’t answer basic questions about your fanfic version of the characters, they run the risk of appearing flat and without autonomy, only acting on the author’s whims rather than their own motivations.
Example:
After his victory, Rusty is overwhelmed with his life in the spotlight, with reporters watching his every move and violating his privacy. He begins to long for the simpler existence of being a switch engine (minus the disrespect from other trains).
Wrench is stuck in the yard after Electra stormed off, and she is trying to get home with the rest of her train. She makes a deal with Rusty to refurbish him in exchange for a cross-country ride. Since she understands the celebrity life from working for Electra, she offers Rusty advice on how to manage his popularity
2. On the road to becoming love interests, Wrench and Rusty must first see each other as a person, not the Other.
This was something I had to tackle when I first started down the Rust Repair track. From Rusty’s POV, Electra and his components are likely weird, inhuman machines who came from seemingly nowhere (plus Electra “steals” Pearl from Rusty, so that’s already a sore point). From Wrench’s POV, Rusty is an outdated steamer who “[needs] water and coal, and still wears a chimney. No style!”
From the beginning, the other love interest will likely be, well, the Other: something (not someone) to ignore or dismiss.
But that can change, my friends.
In Rusty’s case, he’s a nice guy who’s gone through hardship. Even if he thought Wrench was weird at first, he would still be polite to her and try to help her out if something went wrong, in a Good Samaritan way.
With Wrench, she may come across as alien as Electra, but she’s still a mechanic. She probably has a bedside manner and a sense of professional ethics, such as “do no harm.” She might have an intellectual interest in Rusty, in a “well, I’ve never seen a steamer up close before, and when will I get the chance to do so again?” kind of way. She might need to undergo (relatively) more character development in regards to seeing Rusty as a person and not an outdated machine (or science-fair project), but that can contribute to an interesting character arc, which brings me to the next point.
3. Include non-romantic goals.
The paradox of writing a good love story is that the story MUST be interesting even if you take the romance out. There are exceptions, of course, but generally speaking, stories where characters have NOTHING else going on than wanting to pair up with their intended love interests can end up forgettable at best and stalkerish at worst.
Individually, Rusty and Wrench have their own lives, even if the canon only gives us glimpses.
If you take the romance out of Rusty’s life (including his interest in Pearl), he has the day job of being an overworked switch engine among diesels, loved ones and friends to talk to (Poppa, the freight trucks, and the coaches), hobbies and interests (racing, training for races, wanting to travel), and a religious background which he questions when times get rough.
If you take the romance out of Wrench’s life (including any implied attraction to Electra), she’s a mechanic who probably understands computers, intelligent/skilled enough to be the private mechanic of a rich engine, a diesel-powered crane car from the ATSF Railroad (most productions), has an interest in racing (London shows), and left Electra to check out Greaseball briefly for “Pumping Iron.”
Even if the main goal of the story is something romantic like “Rusty wishes to propose to Wrench,” there are other things going on in their lives to show they are individuals with interests, skills, and flaws. (See Bernard in The Rescuers Down Under.) Maybe on the night Rusty wants to propose, Poppa ends up in the repair shop, or Wrench has to rush home to her parents, or a train derails that Wrench has to take care of, or Control assigns Rusty to a last-minute trip. Real-life couples are still made up of two individuals, so try thinking along those lines with Rusty and Wrench.
Take a moment now to write out some goals the characters might have in your story, even if it’s something as minor as “eat lunch.”
4. Focus on their friendship before focusing on the romance.
Piggybacking off the previous point, you NEED to have a healthy friendship to portray a healthy romance. This is likely why there has been a backlash against bickering couples over the past few years. In the 80s and 90s, bantering rivals who fall in love was considered more interesting than the “perfect couples” and “love at first sight” tropes of the past, but writers took the playful, sassy banter of two equals who respected each other and gradually progressed it into toxic bickering. “If they hate each other, they MUST be in love” might work for a comedy, but it’s not healthy when portrayed unironically.
Again, take the romance out for a moment and look at how you’re planning to portray your leads. Can your readers root for Rusty and Wrench to be good friends? Do the characters respect each other (or learn to within the story)? Do they have things to talk about besides how much they like each other? Are they reliable when the other needs help? If so, they have a greater chance at being a good couple. (And if you answered “No,” there is always room for character development if the plot of your story involves them becoming better people.)
How would Rusty and Wrench work as friends then?
5. Make lists of things they have in common and/or would talk about.
StEx characters are canonically simple and not entirely explored, but we can make educated guesses on the nuggets which are provided.
In the old version of “Call Me Rusty”, he mentions dreaming of pulling streamline coaches when his fire was first lit, but he currently works as a switch engine. He is likely overworked and badly maintained, but he keeps a chipper attitude in some versions. As a switcher, he would rarely leave the yard, but he wants to travel to far away places. (“Want you to take me away but bring me back before daylight, and in the time between take me to everywhere, but don’t abandon me there. Just want to say I’ve been.”) Rusty is close to Poppa, if not related to him (depending upon actor interpretation). He is friends with the Rockies (possibly related), Dustin, and the coaches. He might have been friends with Flat-Top and Red Caboose at some point, though they might not have been close.
At some point, he became corroded, but he can still go fast enough to be a threat to Greaseball and Electra. The rust would be especially deadly if it gets to his boiler. (Rusty go boom.) At some point, he decided to race (and got Control to agree), and he formed a partnership with Pearl, but she gave the caveat of saying she would leave him if she found someone new.
Going further, answer for yourself basic questions about his life. How does Rusty relate to the other switch engines in the yard? Does he get along with any of the switchers? How often does he work in the coach yard and freight yard? What sorts of chores does Control force him to do? How long has he been living in the yard? WHERE is Control’s yard, and how does the location affect his current life? What’s the farthest he’s been away from the yard? If he isn’t related to Poppa, how did they meet? How long have they known each other? How long has he known the freight trucks and coaches? If he’s not originally from Control’s yard, where did he live before? What anecdotes can he bring up in a conversation?
Meanwhile, Wrench is the train equivalent of a doctor, so it stands to reason that she went to the train equivalent of med school. Where did she go? What field of mechanics did she study? What was her GPA? Who was her favorite professor(s)? What was her favorite class(es)? Did she have a roommate? A study group? What funny or painful anecdotes could she mention to Rusty? Who was her first patient? How long did she work as a mechanic before she met Electra? Did she help build Electra?
In some productions, Wrench is a crane car from the Atchison, Topeka and Santa Fe Railroad. She would burn diesel, and she would have worked with diesel locomotives (no electrics!) She is possibly related to diesel engines. If she comes from a long line of crane cars, some of those cranes would have been steam powered. How did she start working for Electra, who would live in a different part of the country? Volta is also a Santa Fe vehicle who burns diesel. Are they related? What is Wrench’s relationship with all her coworkers?
Based on these lists, here are some possible scenarios a writer can explore:
_ While steamers aren’t her forte as a mechanic, Wrench has met a few surviving Santa Fe steamers in museums. Poppa raced against some of these locomotives, and so over a family dinner Wrench, Poppa and Rusty swap stories.
_ Wrench’s grandparents were steam-powered crane cars (or locomotives). She privately feels sympathy for Rusty, even though she hides it from Electra.
_ Rusty, still working as a switcher, deals with a difficult vehicle, and Wrench tells him a story about an ornery patient she met at her first repair shop.
_ Wrench is the first of the other trains to realize Rusty is a ticking time bomb. Although she wants Electra to win, she also understands that Rusty is racing because he doesn’t want to die.
_ Rusty offers to give Wrench a lift to an old Santa Fe yard, and he gets to meet her relatives. (Note: in 1995, the ATSF was merged with the Burlington Northern into the Burlington Northern Santa Fe aka BNSF.)
_ Rusty feels bothered when he sees Wrench talking with a Santa Fe engine she used to date, and this is the “green epiphany” which makes him realize he likes her.
These are just a handful of options. Take time to write out your observations about the characters and try to come up with how you can utilize what you know to give them a plausible friendship.
6. Pick which production you’re basing this on.
People might think I harp too much on productions, but certain details can be important to Rust Repair. For example, in “No Comeback”, Electra leaves the components behind. Thus, an easy way to get Rusty and Wrench interacting is for him to offer assistance to the abandoned trucks. Maybe he helps them find a place to live, or maybe he joins the search parties looking for Electra.
Similarly, in some productions, Wrench races in the same heat as Poppa and Dustin. What if she helped Poppa as soon as she saw him break down? What if she advised Electra not to be spiteful towards the steamers because that could be a PR nightmare for him? What if she’s secretly interested in seeing how Rusty will perform after seeing first hand how Poppa did?
In other productions, Wrench does not race at all, so there are a lot of opportunities to explore her offstage actions. What if Rusty and Wrench stumbled upon each other during the first heat? What if Wrench felt conflicted after “Wide Smile” and tried to warn Rusty about Caboose without Electra finding out? What if she offered to race with Rusty instead of Dustin?
In conclusion, the individual characterization of the leads is important; they must see each other as a person; non-romantic goals and a healthy friendship are essential to writing enjoyable romance; listing what they have in common or to talk about can lead to interesting interactions, and deciding on which production to use can further flesh out your fanfic.
Now, go and write.
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999newstimes · 1 year
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truelistmarketing · 1 year
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wabashmfginc · 2 years
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dorthyanndrarry · 2 years
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Whatever You Want, Draco Malfoy -34-
Tags: alcohol use, marijuana use, cigarettes, smoking, reckless behaviour, lack of self preservation, anxiety issues, chronic illness, deportation, racism, the fucking Tories, ptsd, super unhealthy coping mechanisms, Down and out Draco who’s friends with muggles, various OC’s, enemies to lovers, angst, mentions of throwing up/vomit, mentions of suicide, mentions of panic attacks, swearing
suggested rating: Mature
Part 1 (contains links to all parts) <- Part 33 || Part 35 ->
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Iris swung her feet under her chair and looked around the circle, “What sort of job would you like to do?”
“I have it,” Jarold said. He frowned faintly, “Well, I will. Once I’ve done this like the coach asked.”
We know, Jasmine mouthed with a dramatic eye roll.
“Emad?” Iris asked.
Emad twitched a shrug, “I… I’ve thought about… but they were stupid ideas.”
“Tell us,” Iris said.
“I like...” Emad let out a slow breath, “…I like plants. I’ve always wanted to work in a plant shop or a nursery. Not magical ones, just the normal kind.”
“Have you ever tried to find that sort of job?” Iris asked.
Emad shook his head, “My parents need me at the store.”
“They could hire someone else,” Jasmine said. “There are tons of kids who’d jump at a part-time night job like that.”
Emad shook his head.
“Unfortunately, Jasmine is right,” Draco said.
Jasmine shot him a glare.
“If it’s something you want to do, I’m sure they would support you,” Draco said.
Emad shook his head more emphatically, “It wouldn’t look- I would look- It wouldn’t look right,” He gestured vaguely to himself. “I can’t- I can’t see it.”
“You can’t see it?” Iris asked.
“In my head,” Emad said, his mouth twitching down, “It doesn’t fit right. Just...” He looked at Draco, “What about you? What job would you want?”
Draco sighed, “I haven’t the foggiest. I grew up knowing, and I mean knowing, that I would inherit the Manor lands and investment interests and all the work that comes with managing them.”
“So you never had another dream?” Emad asked.
Draco shook his head, “No.”
“Nothing?” Jasmine asked.
“Did you have any hobbies you liked to do when you were younger?” Iris asked.
“That I liked?” Draco said. “No. I didn’t do things because I liked them. I did them because it was expected of me, and I had to do well at them.” He frowned to himself in thought, “I used to think I liked quidditch, but I’m not sure I ever really had fun playing it. Maybe against the Hufflepuffs.”
“You wouldn’t have said that when I was in school. They had some wicked chasers during my years,” Jarold said.
“Things change, I suppose,” Draco said with a faint smile.
“It’s something you might think about now,” Iris said, “You have your entire life ahead of you.”
Draco shuddered dramatically, “Don’t remind me.”
Jasmine and Emad laughed while Jarold looked pleasantly befuddled.
Iris shook her head. “Well, what about you, Jasmine?”
“What about me?” Jasmine asked.
“What sort of work do you think you might like to do now?” Iris asked.
“Me?” Jasmine asked.
“Yes, you,” Iris said. “Have you given it any thought?”
“…Mattress tester?” Jasmine said jokingly.
Jarold laughed. Draco just raised an eyebrow.
“What were your interests in school?” Iris asked, “Did you have any dreams about what you wanted to be when you grew up?”
“How about… the man that drove the ice lolly van?” Jasmine tried another joke.
Iris smiled, “You should try it.”
“What? Driving an ice cream truck? That’s nons-”
“Not if you want to do it,” Iris said.
Jasmine crossed her arms, “Well, I don’t. I was just fucking around.”
Iris’ smile grew, “What do you want to do then?”
“I don’t know,” Jasmine said.
“In school-”
“I just hung out with my friends. And even though I studied my ass off, I still barely passed. I’m not one of the clever ones,” Jasmine said.
“And what did you think you’d do after school?” Iris asked.
Jasmine shrugged her shoulders, “Find a job with one of my mates. I didn’t care.”
“Goodness, you lot do not want to make this easy for me, do you?” Iris said lightly.
“If it was easy, we wouldn’t be here,” Draco said.
“True. Very true,” Iris said with a laugh.
“You know what you ought to do?” Draco said, looking over at Jasmine as the thought occurred to him, “You ought to get a job with the portkey office.”
“The hell I should,” Jasmine said.
“The portkey you made me had the smoothest pull on it I’ve ever-”
“Shut up,” Jasmine snapped, sitting forward.
Draco blinked.
“For fucks sake, Malfoy,” Jasmine threw up her hands, “They’re- No one’s supposed to make them, you know? They’re restricted or whatever.”
“Ah,” Draco said, “I forgot about that.”
Jarold shrugged, “We promised not to tell. And besides, you wouldn’t give something like that to someone unless you were sure it worked.”
“Of course they worked,” Jasmine said, “I tested all my portkeys on myself when I was first figuring them out.”
“I thought you didn’t have any interests in school,” Iris said.
“It wasn’t an interest,” Jasmine said sourly.
Iris opened her mouth to ask further, but Jasmine cut her off.
“Ever since the end of that stupid fucking triwizard tournament, I kept having nightmares that death eaters would break into the castle and kill us all. But it was just a nightmare until-”
“Oh,” Draco sighed under his breath.
“Yes, oh,” Jasmine scowled at the floor, “Then I knew it could happen. I wasn’t going to be stuck in that stupid pile of rocks when it happened again. So I got really good at making portkeys. I couldn’t slip them through the Hogwarts wards, but I made ones that would drop me right by the road to Hogsmeade, next to the railroad station, and at the furthest edge of the forbidden forest.”
“The forest?” Jarold asked with a shudder, “That place always gave me the willies.”
“It also happens to be very dangerous,” Iris said. “Why there?”
“It’s the furthest place away from the castle,” Jasmine said. “I always carried multiple portkeys with me, so I could have ported again if the forest was too dangerous. And I remade them once a week so the magic would be strong and stable-”
“I’m sorry,” Iris said.
Jasmine bristled, “About what?”
“I’m sorry that the war weighed so heavy on your mind when you were young; that you spent so many years living in anxiety and uncertainty,” Iris said.
Jasmine froze, glaring at Iris, her arms tight around her chest.
“Did you have anyone you could talk to?” Iris asked.
Jasmine’s fingers squeezed into her arms.
“Like your friends?” Iris asked.
Jasmine shrugged one shoulder, “Everyone talked about it. It was everywhere. Kind of hard to avoid.”
“But were you able to share your worries, your concerns?” Iris asked.
“A bit, I guess,” Jasmine said stiffly.
“Was there anyone you were close to?” Iris asked.
“I don’t know,” Jasmine said. She shook her head and threw up her hands, “I don’t know! I guess I wasn’t that close to anyone.”
“No best friends?” Iris asked.
“We were... casual about it. We got on well enough. It was fine,” Jasmine said.
Draco shifted in his chair uneasily.
“But you were going to get a job with one of your friends after school, you said?” Iris said.
“It was better than going off and getting a job on my own. It’d have been more fun with some of my mates, you know?” Jasmine said. She looked around the circle, “I’m not wrong, am I?”
Draco shook his head.
“Besides, what teenager do you know that are being all touchy-feely with one another? Sounds fucking weird to me,” Jasmine said.
Draco nodded.
“You agree with her, Draco?” Iris asked.
Draco blinked, “...Well, it would be more enjoyable to work with a friend rather than-”
Iris huffed a laugh, a wry smile on her face, “I don’t think that’s what you were agreeing with.”
“What then?” Draco said obtusely.
“I think you agreed with what Jasmine said afterwards, and maybe even with her first statement,” Iris said. “Did you have any close friends in school?”
“Of course not,” Draco said.
“Of course not?” Iris said.
Draco shifted in his seat, “It’s not- I mean, personally, it wasn’t to my advantage to have close friends.”
Jasmine raised an eyebrow, “To your advantage?”
Draco rolled his eyes, “Really-?”
“Oh, come on,” Jasmine said, “Even you have to admit that’s a fucked up way to put it.”
Draco hesitated. And then went utterly silent.
There was no good way to say it. Was he just supposed to admit that everything they thought about Slytherin was right? That they were all snakes, just waiting to turn on one another? But-
“What are you thinking, Draco?” Iris asked.
Draco blinked, looking up at her, “What?”
“Let us in on your thought process,” Iris said.
“Yeah, if I have to share all this shit, then so do you,” Jasmine said.
Draco sighed, crossing his legs, “It’s like...no one really got that close in my house-”
Jasmine rolled her eyes, but what she said surprised him, “Yeah, well, if you give people too much, they’ll fuck with you, won’t they?”
Iris looked surprised as well and interested.
Draco nodded, “Yes…  I was always careful to keep a certain amount of distance between myself and anyone else because If they found out something compromising about me, they could have used it against me.”
“Did that ever happen? To you or you, Jasmine?” Iris asked.
“Merlin, yes,” Jasmine said with a sigh, “Kaley was always making fun of my hair even though she knew how much I cared about it. And Lila was always teasing me about my grades. And all the girls started making fun when they found out I snored sometimes.”
“What about you, Draco? Did any of your friends ever try to blackmail you or threaten you or-”
“No,” Draco shook his head. “Not that I heard anyway. Who’s to say what they might have been saying behind my back. I never told them anything dangerous.”
“Nothing?” Jasmine said, “They knew you were a death eater.”
“You must be joking,” Draco said.
“No?” Jasmine said.
Draco shook his head in disbelief, “To use that against me, they would have had to abandon all of our friends to join Potter and his lot. Who didn’t like or trust us. And most likely, their family would have been killed for their betrayal.”
“They wouldn’t have-” Jasmine said.
“They would,” Draco said flatly, “He would. I saw-” he stopped bile rising in the back of his throat at the sudden surge of memories. He turned his head, looking fixedly at the wall and trying to will the images out of his head.
“And the risks were the same for you, weren’t they?” Iris asked.
Draco blinked, trying to focus on her.
“If you had wanted to turn on any of your friends, the repercussions would have been the same,” Iris said.
Draco nodded.
“Even for the Malfoy's?” Jasmine asked.
“Especially for us. Betrayals of any kind were not treated lightly, and the closer you were to him, the more severe the punishment. To make an example of you.”
“And so you don’t do it again?” Jasmine said hesitantly.
Draco stared at her for a moment before understanding what she even meant. He shook his head, “There were no second chances. The punishment was more about how painful your death was and how many of your family you had to watch die before he killed you. If you were especially useful, he might put you under an Imperius, but you were dead as soon as he was done with you.”
Jasmine’s eyes flicked down at the floor as if she couldn’t make herself look him in the eye.
“I would have thought that you and your friends sharing such dire circumstances would have formed an even stronger bond between you,” Iris said.
Draco shook his head.
“Why do you think it didn’t?” Iris asked.
Draco snorted, “How should I know?”
“Well, what do you know?” Iris asked idly.
Draco’s brow furrowed.
“Why didn’t you try to form any close bonds with your school friends?” Iris asked.
Draco’s automatic response was to rush the whole topic off, but it died in his throat before he managed to say a word, leaving him without any response at all.
“Were they cruel to you? Like Jasmine’s friends?” Iris said.
“Hey!” Jasmine protested, sitting forward, “My friends weren’t cruel! They were just, you know, teasing. It was just regular old teasing.”
“Did you like it?” Iris asked.
“Well, I mean, I laughed-”
“Did you enjoy how they teased you?” Iris pressed.
“I mean… no. Not really,” Jasmine said.
There was a long pause while Jasmine debated saying more. She went on reluctantly, “I especially hated Kaley saying shite about my hair. It felt….” She sucked in a breath, “it felt fucking racist but, but, I didn’t feel like I could say it, and she never said anything deliberate like. It just- It felt like it.”
“Well-”
“Don’t call me crazy,” Jasmine interrupted.
“I won’t. We won’t,” Iris said. She looked around the circle, and they all nodded in agreement.
“This Kaley sounds like a bit of bint, if you ask me,” Jarold said.
Jasmine snorted, “She was.”
“I like your hair,” Emad said.
Draco nodded, “It’s fucking amazing.”
Jasmine smiled, “I know, right?” reaching up and pulling a few of her locks over her shoulder. “...thanks.” She looked over at Draco, “So?”
“So, what?” Draco asked.
“Were your friends fucking cunts or not?” Jasmine asked and then laughed at his startled expression.
“...Uh no, not especially. That would be… unacceptable,” Draco said hesitantly.
“Is it like a Slytherin thing?” Jarold asked.
“Your school house thing is so- so british,” Emad said.
Jasmine laughed hard at that, “God, isn’t it?”
“...A Slytherin thing?” Draco said uncertainly. He thought back to the dungeons and the Slytherin common room and- he frowned, “There were other students with close friends, I think. Like the Greengrass sisters and some of the younger students. They were-,” he broke off.
“What stopped you from getting close to other students?” Iris asked.
Draco waved a hand through the air, “It was- It was….” he frowned. “...The Parkinson’s were ladder climbers who would betray you at the drop of a hat, and Crabbe and Goyle’s families were peons and bootlickers; they would be loyal right up to the moment their life was in danger then join the more powerful side. The Nott’s thought they were smarter than everyone else, and the Zabini’s, everyone knows about the Mistress Zabini-”
“Where did you learn all of that?” Iris asked.
“My father said-” Draco stopped as the realisation hit him so hard it left him breathless, “My father. My mother too. They were always telling me about the other families, who were useful, who to avoid...” He shook his head, “I never would have even thought to be friends with any of them, real friends, not the superficial companions we all played at.”
“None of them?” Iris asked.
Draco shook his head.
Jasmine snorted, “Oh my god. It’s not that surprising, is it? You’re acting like it’s the most shocking revelation you’ve heard in your life.”
Draco glared at her, “Fuck off. I knew my family had fucked up ideas about muggles and blood purity and all the shite. But I’ve never realised they were just as fucked up about our peers. They were supposed to be the ones we liked.”
“Did it ever occur to you to make friends with anyone else in school?” Iris asked.
“No,” Draco said automatically. But the picture his mind supplied the second after he spoke was of a scruffy black-haired little boy in too big robes as Draco held out his hand for a handshake that never came.
“That sounds like a very uncomfortable way to live,” Iris said.
“Uncomfortable?” Jarold asked, “Clothes that don’t fit right are uncomfortable; I don’t see how-” he waved his hand, “-all that is.”
“Not being able to fully share your thoughts and feelings, holding yourself back because otherwise there will be repercussions. It’s more a discomfort up here,” Iris tapped the side of her head.
Jarold frowned.
“It feels like uneasiness,” Iris said, “It feels like… being restless, bored, disengaged or lonely even when surrounded by people.”
“Oh,” Jarold said, sitting back in his chair with a thoughtful look.
The conversation seemed to mellow out after that. Everyone seemed a little more thoughtful, sharing stories about their life.
It turned out none of them had had close friends when they were in school. Jarold’s friendships always revolved around quidditch, and he admitted rather sheepishly that he wasn’t all that good when it came to talking about anything else. Emad had some friends in Iran, but they were all muggle, so he never felt like he could get too close.
“Were there no magic families or communities you could turn to?” Iris asked.
“We would go to Hegra a few times a year, it’s the closest magical community to where we lived, but I never got to know anyone,” Emad said.
“What about school?” Draco asked.
“My parents taught me,” Emad said, “They couldn’t afford to send me to Chamrosh, the school in Hegra. Only wealthy families send their children there. But I studied hard and passed the exams to become a Magi.” His brow furrowed in thought, “...I think you call them Newts here?”
Draco nodded. Jasmine snorted.
Emad shook his head, “So strange.”
“You lived in a muggle neighbourhood?” Jasmine asked, “I live in a little muggle village.”
“So you couldn’t just apparate to Hegra?” Jarold asked.
Emad frowned and then looked around the circle, “You… can’t apparate in the greater Persian territories without special permission. All travel is by portkeys that can only be bought through the Hegra Council. Our laws for secrecy are far more strict than the ones here. I would have thought you would know that much, at least.”
“Our history of magic classes only really covered what happened in the UK and in Europe. But mostly the UK,” Jarold said.
“We learned about some of the major magical schools, didn’t we?” Jasmine asked.
“Some,” Draco said. “I’m afraid that this is the first time I’ve ever heard of Hegra or Chamrosh.”
“I hadn’t a clue there was a magic community in the middle east,” Jasmine said.
“There are magic communities everywhere. Muggleborns come up in every population, after all,” Iris said. “I’m afraid the education system here tends to be extremely western focused.”
“British people think they’re the centre of the world, big shocker,” Jasmine said sarcastically.
“You’re British,” Jarold said.
“My mum’s from Tanzania, and if you think I don’t notice the way some people treat her for it, you’re dead wrong,” Jasmine said.
“Oh, I didn’t know that,” Jarold said, “Sorry.”
Jasmine sighed, looking resigned, “...whatever, it’s fine.”
“It’s getting late, so before we go for the day, I’d like to hear about what you did since our last meeting,” Iris said,
“Our homework assignment!” Jasmine said.
“It’s not a homework assignment because you can’t fail,” Iris said.
Jasmine rolled her eyes.
“I asked you all to do something you’ve always wanted to do, no matter how big or small,” Iris said.
They all stared at her.
“Jarold?” Iris said.
Jarold shrugged sheepishly, “I, uh, went to the park for a bit?”
“Is that something you've always wanted to do?” Iris asked.
“It was nice,” Jarold said.
Jasmine snorted, fighting back a laugh.
“I always wanted to go when I was little, but I couldn’t cause I had too much accidental magic, so I could only go to wizarding places,” Jarold said, shooting Jasmine a glare.
“I see,” Iris said with a smile.
“It wasn’t the same, though,” Jarold said, “It’s not like I could play on the slides and stuff there, and the parents kept giving me dirty looks when I tried to watch.”
“I’m sorry,” Iris said.
“S’alright. I know it’s ‘cause of how I look.” Jarold gestured at his large square frame, dwarfing the chair he was sitting in.
“What about you, Emad?” Iris asked.
“I went to this cute cafe and then to the royal botanical gardens,” Emad said.
“That sounds like a lovely day,” Iris said.
“It was supposed to be,” Emad said, rubbing his arm like it was cold. “I tried. But I felt so out of place, and kind of, like you described, uncomfortable.”
Iris nodded, “I’d love to see you for a one on one session this week, so we can talk about it more if you’re up to it.”
“Ooo called up to the professor’s office,” Jasmine said in a sing-songy voice.
“No. No one is in trouble. I’m here to help,” Iris said.
Yeah, the professors said that too,” Jasmine said.
“You are a delight, Miss Jasmine,” Iris said.
Jasmine made a mock gagging motion.
“What did you do, Jasmine?” Iris asked.
“Started a garden, mostly tomatoes, but we threw a few pepper and pea plants in there too,” Jasmine said.
“Oh?” Iris said.
“Yeah. I guess I had one when I was in muggle school, like for a project or something. Most of them died, though,” Jasmine said.
“And so you’re going to try it again?” Iris said.
“Well, my first idea was having a friend over, but someone-” Jasmine shot a glare at Draco, “-said that was a stupid idea.”
Iris followed her gaze, “You helped Jasmine with her garden?”
“Yes, and I got dirt under my nails. It was horrible,” Draco said.
“Why was the first idea stupid?” Iris asked.
“Because we weren’t friends. So obviously, it was flawed from its conception,” Draco said.
“Weren’t?” Jasmine said, “Does that mean we are now?”
“Considering what you call a friend-”
“Oh fuck off,” Jasmine said.
Draco went on unbothered, “I suppose we are the very mildest of friends.”
“What an asshole,” Jasmine muttered.
“Exactly,” Draco said.
“Draco, you’re last. Did you do anything last week?” Iris asked.
Jasmine laughed, “Yeah, tell her about the fishies.”
Draco glared at her.
“Fishies?” Iris asked.
“I went to the aquarium,” Draco said.
“Very daring,” Jasmine said sarcastically.
“I had never been,” Draco added stiffly. “I didn’t know I had to go out and have an emotionally meaningful experience.”
“You didn’t,” Iris said, “I’m pleased as punch you all tried to do something. Did you have fun?”
Draco nodded, “It was wonderful. Even Po-” he stopped suddenly.
“Po?” Jasmine asked.
“I went with someone,” Draco said vaguely.
“A friend?” Iris asked,
Draco laughed, “A friend. No. We are not friends.”
That earned him a collection of strange looks.
“It was- He was-” Draco hesitated. “...It was sort of a date. Maybe?”
Jasmine raised an eyebrow.
“There was a look...” Draco said, remembering the Potter looked at him in the jellyfish exhibit, and then later- “and a kiss.” He felt his cheeks grow warm as the memory came back to him. Surely nothing would come of it, but it had been… special. “I’ve never been on a proper date before.”
“Never?” Jasmine asked with a laugh, “How old are you?”
Draco sniffed, “I’ve had plenty of hook-ups if you’re worried about my purity.”
“God, no,” Jasmine said.
“Looks like you had an ‘emotionally meaningful experience’ after all,” Iris said with a grin.
Draco felt himself blush hard and glared at Iris.
Iris continued to look annoyingly pleased with herself. “Since you are all starting to get along, how about, before the next meeting, you try to meet up, perhaps in pairs-”
“Dibs on Emad,” Jasmine said.
“What?” Draco said.
“Umm,” Emad said.
Jarold narrowed his eyes.
“What? I told you I’m not the sporty type,” Jasmine said. “You and Jarold have things in common.”
Draco rolled his eyes, “I don’t mind, I suppose. I was an option, though.”
“We hung out already,” Jasmine said.
Draco snorted. “We wouldn’t want to over do it, would we?” he said sarcastically.
“Exactly,” Jasmine said sincerely.
Which made them both laugh.
Jarold looked confused.
Iris stood up, “Well, that’s sorted, then. Emad, may I talk to you about what time you’re available for a meeting?”
“Same,” Jasmine, getting to her feet.
The three of them made a little group to talk about the riveting topic of scheduling.
Draco looked at Jarold, “So... when do you want to meet?”
-
💜 Next update will be... next week? hopefully💜 I got it into my head that I really wanted to finish this chapter all in one 💜hope you like it, i missed y’all!💜love ya!!💜
Tags below v (I don’t have a permanent tags list. All tags are of the wonderful people who left messages or reblogs on the previous 2 parts.)
💜 @justafangirlslikes thank you!
💜 @pain-changes-everything his confidence is so forced but he wears it well, lol 💜 💜thank you so much! 💜 💜
💜 @havingaverydrarryday 😁thank you!! 💜
💜 @shadowybook thank you so much!!!  💜as the group gets more comfortable with one another, the bickering will grow worse! in a good way
💜 @idareyoutotakealook more lovely Iris time 💜 💜thank you!! 💜 💜
💜 @devilrising thank you!!! I love the therapy sessions as well! It’s so interesting to really delve into these characters and develop them further
💜 @dewitty1 thank you so much! 💜 💜 good luck with your busy farmermarket times!
💜 @languedor71 😭thank you! that’s so nice 💜 💜 💜 Emad is slow to get close to people, give them time💕 
💜 @beelzebub-banshee thank you! I’m glad you like the bickering 💜 💜
💜 @kaosuiinku yessss😍 I’m so glad people like the therapy sessions 💜 thank you! 💜 
💜  @addicted-to-w0rds   thank youuuuu!! 💜
💜 @the-blind-one-speaks thank you so much!!! 💜
💜 @hmmihaventdecidedyet  💜 @chamomileteafuel  💜 @peaceinambiguity    💜 @atomicauthorathletevoid  💜  
💜 @melcarrianna  💜 @undercoverwarlock  💜 @adventurouschase  💜 @nancan  💜  @snarkyship   💜  
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purestaffing · 5 years
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