#gonna get to work on week 4 tomorrow

[thelastspeecher]

Stanuary '24 - Week 3: Fantasy & Memories

I'm doing my best to catch up! This takes place in my original Stanley McGucket AU, aka the one where Stan winds up working as a farmhand for the McGucket family after he gets kicked out of the house as a teen. And it's almost a bit of an accidental Fiddleford Friday, since Fiddleford is a big feature in it. Enjoy!

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              The party ascended the long and winding staircase to the top of the tower.  When they reached the door, Mudd gestured for Stabitha to pick the lock.  The elf did so quickly.  She went to push the door open.  Mudd grabbed her arm.  She was taller than him, but his orcish strength meant he could stop her before she did anything to alert the wizard.

              “Let me,” he said softly.  Stabitha scowled, disappointed, but stepped back.  “And, uh, gimme one of your knives.”

              “What?  Why?” Stabitha asked.  Mudd rolled his eyes.

              “Just do it, okay?”

              “I’ll be defenseless.”

              “You’ve got at least six knives,” piped up the third member of the party, Bloom.  Stabitha shot the half-elf a glare.  “You’ll be okay without one.”

              “Fine.”  Stabitha slipped a dagger out of her boot and handed it to Mudd.  Mudd grinned at her.

              “Trust me.  I know what I’m doing.”

              “Sure.”  Stabitha’s tone made it clear she didn’t believe him.  Mudd silently pushed open the door.  The wizard was muttering under his breath as he went through a book.  His back faced the door.  Mudd’s grin widened.  A perfect opportunity to attack.  Mudd crept over to the wizard and roughly grabbed him.  Before the wizard could do anything, Mudd raised the dagger and plunged it into-

              “Roll fer attack.”

              “Huh?” Stan asked, looking up at Fiddleford.

              “‘Member when ya fought those goblins?  Ya had to roll to see whether yer attacks landed or not,” Fiddleford said.

              “Yeah, but those were moving targets,” Stan argued.  “The wizard is less than a foot away from me and I’m holding him still!”

              “Doesn’t matter.”

              “What are the odds I won’t hit him?”

              “Close to zero, but not quite there.”  Fiddleford was maddeningly calm as he explained the gameplay.  “There’s always the chance yer hand spasms or there’s a noise that startles ya or somethin’ else what makes ya drop the knife or miss.”

              “Ugh.  Fine.”  Stan squinted at the dice in front of him.  “Which ones do I…?”

              “Those,” Angie said helpfully, pointing at two dice.  Fiddleford was leaving for college tomorrow, so she, Stan, and Lute had been roped into playing his favorite game: Dungeons, Dungeons, and More Dungeons.  Angie and Lute, though not fans of the game themselves, had played it to make their brother happy before, so they understood the game mechanics more than Stan, who was new to it.

              “Got it.”  Stan rolled the dice.  He squinted at the numbers.  “Uh…twenty-seven.”  Fiddleford rolled some dice of his own behind the screen he was using to hide their opponents’ information.  His supplies for Dungeons, Dungeons, and More Dungeons were some of the few items not yet packed.  Stan would be lying if he said he wasn’t disappointed that, the first time he was in Fiddleford’s bedroom, everything that gave the room personality was tucked away into bags and boxes.

              “The dagger plunges into Probabilitor’s heart,” Fiddleford said.  “Roll fer damage.”

              “Damage?  It’s in the guy’s heart!  He’s dead!”

              “It’s how the game is played,” Fiddleford said with a shrug.

              “That one,” Lute said, pointing.  Stan picked up the single die with a frown.

              “Okay, I know you said wizards don’t have a lotta, uh, what is it called?”

              “HP,” the McGucket siblings said together.

              “Yeah.  Wizards don’t have a lotta HP.  But even with that, how am I gonna kill this guy?”

              “You should’ve had me do it,” Angie said.  She inspected her nails idly.  “I get bonus damage when I use my knives.”

              “How?”

              “Class bonus, leveled up skills, magical bond with the daggers,” Angie said lazily.  Stan raised an eyebrow at her.  “Lute ‘n I told ya that we’ve played this before.”

              “You’ve played a game you don’t like enough to level up?” Stan asked.

              “We can’t exactly help Fidds with his robots,” Lute drawled.  “Neither of us got any ability with technology.  So’s this game is what we do when Fidds chooses siblin’ bondin’ time.”

              “Are you ever goin’ to roll?” Fiddleford asked impatiently.  Angie and Lute snickered.  Stan rolled the single die.  Fiddleford craned his neck to see the result.  “Not too bad.  Roll again.”

              “Again?”

              “The damage fer the dagger I gave ya requires rollin’ the same die twice,” Angie said.

              “Oh.”  Stan rolled again.  Fiddleford nodded.

              “Good.  Good damage.”

              “Is he dead?” Stan asked.

              “No.”

              “Dammit.”  Stan sighed.  “Is he gonna zap me with lightning or somethin’?”

              “Let me-” Fiddleford started, looking down at his notes.  Lute cleared his throat.  Fiddleford looked at him.  “Yes?”

              “Angie ‘n I ain’t rolled initiative yet,” Lute pointed out.

              “Good catch.  Roll fer initiative, then,” Fiddleford said.  Angie and Lute each rolled their dice.  Fiddleford rolled something behind his screen.  “Oof.  Probabilitor didn’t roll too high.”

              “Thirteen,” Angie said.

              “Eleven,” Lute said.

              “Yer move first, Angie,” Fiddleford said.  Angie perked up excitedly.  She moved her figurine to be next to Stan’s and the wizard’s.

              “I take out two daggers and stab Probabilitor in the back with ‘em both!” Angie chirped.

              “Roll fer attack.”

              “Thirty.”  Stan yawned, getting bored now that his character wasn’t doing anything.  Lute was similarly disinterested, idly repeatedly rolling an extra die.

              “Critical hit, then.  Roll fer damage, and remember that crits ‘re more powerful.”

              “Total damage of twenty-one,” Angie said with a smirk.  Fiddleford cleared his throat.  Stan and Lute looked at him.

              “Probabilitor wheezes a faint cry, protesting that the odds were in his favor, not yours.  As dark red blood blooms on his robes-”

              “Sweet,” Stan muttered.  Lute nodded in agreement.

              “-he lets out a long, guttural gurgle.  He collapses onto the floor of the tower room.”

              “Great!” Stan said.  “I loot the body.”  Angie and Lute burst out laughing.  Fiddleford chuckled as well.

              “Yer goin’ to have to roll fer it,” he warned.

              “Ugh.  Never mind, then.”

              “I guess we’re done,” Fiddleford said.  “Unless the three of ya want to continue…”  He unzipped a backpack next to him and pulled out a notebook.  “I’ve got plenty of campaign ideas all written up!”

              “Maybe try playin’ with yer roommate,” Lute suggested.

              “Aaron graduated last year.  I’ll have someone new this year.”

              “Hopefully he likes graph paper games,” Stan said.

              “Even if he doesn’t, there’s a club I can go to.  It’s just inconvenient, since it’s in a buildin’ all the way across campus,” Fiddleford sighed.  He began to gather the dice, figurines, and various pieces of paper.

              “It’ll all work out,” Angie said cheerfully.  Fiddleford ruffled her hair playfully.

              “I’m sure yer right.  Now, if you’ll excuse yourselves, I’ve got to finish packin’.”  Angie, Lute, and Stan stood up.  Stan followed the younger siblings out of the bedroom.  “Close the door!”  Stan did as he was told.  In the hallway outside the room, Angie leaned against the wall, smirking at Stan.

              “What’s with that look?” Stan asked.

              “I think I know why ya decided to take charge ‘n stab the wizard instead of let someone else do it,” she said.

              “Isn’t it obvious?” Stan said dismissively.  “I wanted to get the thing over with.  We were playing for two hours!”  Angie shook her head.

              “I think you were gettin’ into the game.  You wanted to be the one to kill the wizard ‘cause you were havin’ so much fun.”

              “That’s slander.”

              “No, I think she’s right,” Lute said.  “You enjoyed yourself!”

              “You’re all delusional,” Stan scoffed.  Angie and Lute chuckled.

              “It ain’t a bad thing to have fun,” Angie said.  “We ain’t exactly fans of the game, but we still have fun.  Sometimes.”

              “Fidds can get a bit partic’lar at times with that game,” Lute said.  “That’s usually when it stops bein’ fun.  Luckily, he didn’t do any of that today ‘cause he wanted some good mem’ries ‘fore he leaves.  No good mem’ries would be made with him bein’ partic’lar.”

              “He’ll be gone until Thanksgiving,” Angie said.  “It’s important to have fond mem’ries to look back on while bein’ apart fer so long.”  After a moment, Stan nodded.

              “Yeah.  Good point.”  He crossed his arms.  “And- I’m not gonna confirm or deny whether I had any fun-”  Angie and Lute snickered.  “-but either way, don’t expect me to play that game any time soon.”

              “You won’t need to.  Our other siblin’s play with Fidds durin’ Thanksgiving and Christmas,” Lute said.

              “Oh.”

              “Of course, I’m sure Fidds would be more ‘n happy to pull out the character sheet fer Mudd the orc barbarian if ya decide to play again,” Lute teased.  Stan shoved him playfully.

              “Nah.  Fidds will just have to make do with today’s memories.”

[cerise-on-top]

Nikolai with a s/o who always has a hand on his chest? With consent ofc, and it’s always to feel his heartbeat. I think of this all the time and it’s always super cute in my head.

Hello! That is pretty cute!

Nikolai Always with Reader’s Hand on His Chest

Nikolai is a pretty laid back and chill sort of man, so he usually doesn’t mind you putting your hand over his heart. Maybe not while you’re walking, though, he doesn’t want you to trip. It’s very sweet to him: You wanna make sure that he’s alive? That he’s still with you? That his heart is still beating? Trust me, not even death could take him away from you. He’d dig his way out of his grave after killing the reaper with his bare hands himself. You can always put your hand over his chest while you’re at home together, though. It’s nice to feel you. After a while it would be reassuring to him as well, feeling that you’re there, that you’re with him. He thinks it’s sweet that you always want to be touching him, because if it was up to you he’d do the same thing with you. After some time, once he’s realized that you’re always touching him whenever you can, he tries to get into positions that facilitate you touching him a bit. Usually lies on his back when you’re cuddling so you have full access to him. Can and will fall asleep like that, but will also want to hold you back. Will also put his hand over your heart as well so he can “get back at you”. In reality, feeling your heartbeat is also just nice and reassuring to him. However, he sometimes might lie on your chest in order to hear it as well, something like it lulls him to sleep, after all. You can put your hand over his chest in public as well, though, he doesn’t particularly mind cuddling in public either. There’s a good chance you’ll be nicely clothed, though, so you won’t feel his heartbeat unless you slip your hand under his clothes. You can do that, he doesn’t care about strangers staring in public. However, once it’s time to continue walking around, release him. You can continue your antics once you’ve found another nice bench to sit on.

[mirrortouchedsea]

would you guys hate me if i talked a bit about my self insert here.

[yandereshingeki]

hello everybody i know i was gone for a little bit but i am back and I have lots to say

[spaghett-onaplate]

it's literally not a good idea in any way shape or form but I want to get a second job in fast food

[rosylix]

i can’t decide if i want to read the spoiler or not 😭😭😭😭😭 i want to save it butttttttt

it's just a very small snippet (~200 words?) i chose a part with no huge spoilers at all but just kind of gives you an idea of where it's headed i guess? idk. ultimately it's up to you!

[orcelito]

Is everyone excited for me to post a fic next week. Or at least looking forward to it at all. Or like. Remembered it? I of course remembered but at the same time I just kinda registered that finishing this up and posting it means I'm posting a fic

So uh. There's that to look forward to!

[safyresky]

Scrimbly Jacqueline 13/52: In which Jacqueline impresses the Lady of the Lake and gives her Blacksmith Guardian a heart attack and a HALF.

COMPLETE with SILLY LITTLE DRABBLE BELOW THE CUT :O

Disclaimer: I know nothing about Arthurian Legends. HASHTAG WINGING IT!!!!

-

"What happened to the one in the anvil?!"

"Broke it fairly fast in a duel if you can believe it."

"He BROKE one of my SWORDS?!"

"He did stick it back in the anvil after drawing it out the first time."

"He did WHAT to my SWORD?"

"And then pulled it back out again. After multiple people took a go at it. Merlin was a bit late to the whole affair. Wizards, y'know. Terrible timing."

"In AND out of the anvil?! MULTIPLE TIMES?"

"Deep breaths, Bastion! Red's really not your colour."

The dwarf took a deep breath in; held it. Breathed out. The wind from his exhale ruffled his sooty beard. He frowned to himself; the lines in his forehead creased deeply as he tugged his beard in thought, the gaggle of young magibeans he had taken in running around the shop behind him. Sparks flew as the older ones worked to make various weapons; some worked on aesthetic details, piles of gems and precious stones gently strewn about the benches. Water hissed as weapons were cooled, clanking ringing out from the far recesses of the shop.

"Well Bastion? Up to snuff?"

"We'll get it done. It may take a little bit to forge a fresh one—"

"Not to worry! I came prepared." The woman in front of him grinned. She lifted her hand. Bastion watched, head tilted in interest as her palm glowed turquoise and suddenly, CLANG! CLATTER! A pile of swords appeared out of thin air and landed right on the counter top, water sloshing and spilling off the sides of it.

Bastion gawked.

"You wouldn't believe how many people dump their swords in the lake. Nasty little surprise, having one of these buggers hit you right on the noggin. Enchanted, too, most of them!"

"Most of them?" Bastion picked one up, admiring the craftsmanship and the inlaid gems. "All of them, I'd say! This pile is radiating magic. Between the lot of us and this pile we should have the new piece done to your specifications in, oh, about two weeks? Belinda, what do you think?"

A tall, elvish woman came over, magnifying eyepiece in her eye. She hmm'd, examining the gems inlaid in the sword pile quickly and closely. "Maybe more. Some of these enchantments have worn away completely, and they'll need replacing. We can do that in house, of course, but there are a handful we'll need to procure out of shop. The anti-fatigue one, we'll have to pop over the wall to get. The strengthening one, that'll be in the mountains."

"I can grab that one meself," Bastion volunteered.

"I can send Maggie over the wall. She does well with the fairies here. Hmm. Breathing underwater? Now, that one may be a feat—"

"Oh, not to worry! I took care of that one." Another glowing turquoise hand lifted and a small gem appeared in front of the pair, suspended in a bubble of water. "One of my specialties," the lady teased, winking as the bubble popped. The gem landed in Belinda's hand, the water bubble popping right on Bastion's nose.

He wiped it off, completely unbothered.

"I can procure a seeing stone. That should be simple enough. That just leaves the resistant gems. Most of which we have here...all but the cold resistant one. That'll be off in the far frozen."

Behind the pair, one of the magibeans by the anvil perked up. The Lady of the Lake watched as the girl tilted her head, listening in.

"We can send Tristan—"

"TRISTAN?! NOT TRISTAN!"

Belinda looked amused as the girl—a sprite, the lady noted—ran over to their little group. Bastion looked very, very tired. And perhaps a bit anxious? The girl pushed right through the pair of them, indignant, hands on her hips. "Tristan is STINKY! And ANNOYING! He's not even cold resistant—"

"But he is older and has much more experience with these sorts of environments—"

"HE'S GONNA MELT ALL THE ICE! I won't! I can just waltz right through it! Can't you send me? I wanna go! You know I can do it!"

"I know that if I send you and something happens, your father will kill me right dead! Send me right off to Rosehaven, personally! He's trusted me to take care of you!"

Well this just got interesting, the lady thought to herself, watching in amusement. "Does he usually go around killing people?"

"No. Not that I know of, at least. See, he's in a position of power."

"Oh?"

"One of the Governors back home."

"Oh."

"He won't kill you, honest! He's the nicest person I know! "

"Her mother may, though," Belinda pointed out.

Bastion hummed. "Fair point."

"What? No it's not! She'd be super okay with it and say it was furthering my spritely education—"

"Did someone call for me?!"

"UGH nooooOOOOoo go AWAY TRISTAN!"

"Always a pleasure to interact with you, squirt."

A taller sprite had appeared now, shoving the girl to the side and taking her place between the pair of smiths, armour shiny, surcoat barely creased or smudged or dirty. "Fair Lady of the Lake, I would be HONOURED to fetch this gem for you." He bowed deeply, holding his hands above him and summoning a little flame.

The Lady of the Lake barely repressed her snort in time. The sprite rolled her eyes, a sentiment shared with Belinda. Bastion exhaled loudly through his nose.

"That's enough of that. Up you go. It's off to the far frozen for you. We're out of cold resistant gems and we'll be needing one for the new King's SECOND," he shot an unamused glance the lady's way, "sword."

"I will venture to the far frozen mountains! I'll leave at dawn, after procuring the finest cold resistant clothing and warmest warmly enchanted sword we have here!" He dropped the grandeur, looking giddy and very much like the under two-thousand year old sprite he was. "This'll look great for knights looking for a new squire."

"I'm sure," the Lady of the Lake replied, biting her tongue very, very much.

"It will take me but two weeks time—"

"I could do it in one! DAY even! Not week! Come on, do we really have to send him of all people? Of all SPRITES?!"

"That's enough Jacqueline," Belinda spoke sternly. "Mind our guest."

The girl huffed, blowing an errant curl of off her forehead and stomping away, disappearing into the back recesses of the workshop, mumbling something about elements versus what sounded very much like "a whole ass season".

The Lady snickered to herself.

"So sorry about that. She's a..."

"Piece of work?" Tristan suggested.

"Adventurous sort," Belinda spoke over the young squire, glaring daggers at him.

"It's quite all right. Kids. So! Sword. About a month, then?"

"If you'd like the opal then yes, about a month. If not, two weeks."

"Brilliant! I'll be back in a month. And you can keep whatever swords you don't use. I've no attachment to any of them. Cluttering up the lake and hitting my head and interrupting perfectly relaxing mud soaks," she tsk'd. "I'll be off then!"

And before Tristan could abase himself any further, the Lady of the Lake was out the door and well on her way down the lane.

-

The moment Melusine shut the door behind her, she cackled. What an absolute wanker, that Tristan. She had far more faith in the delightfully outspoken sprite than she did in that sorry slip of a squire.

Sword issue taken care of (both of them, thankfully) she made her way back to her humble abode (lake), thoughts returning to her next task: find who had thrown the last sword into her lake and jinx their arm. Terrible aim for a thousand days, perhaps. Or maybe turn it into something wiggly. Like an eel. Or a tentacle. Somewhere in that wheelhouse, for sure—

"HEY! HEY! LADY OF THE LAKE. YOUR LADY OF THE LAKENESS, THAT IS."

Mel turned abruptly, watching as the sprite from before wriggled her way out of one of the windows and ran towards her, waving her down.

"WAIT UP! PLEASE! DON'T GO BACK TO YOUR LAKE YET I WANNA TALK!"

She fell mid run, flat on her face. Mel winced, about to ask if the sprite was all right when she sprung back up (a chilly wind flitting through the lane way) and continued running, unbothered. She skid to a stop right in front of her, breathing heavily for a moment, her coiled braids swinging, little hairs trying to escape the neat loops.

"Alright?"

"Yeah! Absolutely! Just catching my breath. Hi! Sorry to bug you, um, your lakeyness," the girl bobbed a quick and lazy curtsy.

"Not at all."

"Oh! Good! I thought maybe it would be—I wasn't very polite back there. I usually am! Tristan just bugs me a LOT."

"He's a knob."

The girl grinned, laughing. "RIGHT? And it's very annoying that he gets to go on that fetch quest cuz like, ice and snow is my SPECIALTY. Anyway, I wanted to ask you if Bastion and Belinda gave you an estimate? For time, that is."

"With that sop going on the fetch quest? About a month. I can wait, though! I've tons of other things to do in the meantime. Which is more inconvenient as an arm, do you think—tentacle or an eel?"

The sprite looked thoughtful for a moment. "Eel! Because it has a mind of its own! Harder to control if it doesn't think like you. Unless that's not the aim here?"

"No, it is! It is. Good point about the eel."

"Thanks! I try. Without the cold gem thingy. Did Bastion say how long it'd be?"

"About two weeks."

"Oh! Good! So come back in two weeks and it'll be ready."

Mel quirked an eyebrow. "Really now?"

"Mhmm!" The girl nodded exuberantly, an excited glint in her eyes. "I'm gonna go get the opal."

"Didn't your guardian tell you not to?"

"Mmmmmaybe—"

"I heard him myself."

"—ooookay so YES he did BUT! He is OVERREACTING and Tristan is gonna WALK. I CAN TELEPORT! I CAN POOF IN AND OUT AND BE BACK SO FAST!"

Mel served her with a stern look.

The sprite bristled. "I'll be okay! Really!"

"Now I'm all for giving men like Tristan the old what-for, but Bastion's the best swordsmith around. Not to mention a stand-up magibean. I certainly wouldn't like to see him sent to Rosehaven by your parents should something happen to you."

"Nothing's gonna happen! I've survived WAY worse!"

There was a brief pause; a quick emotion passed over her eyes. But before Mel could discern anything other than she meant it when she said she'd survived worse, it was gone, and the sprite continued as though nothing had happened.

"And my parents won't hurt him, I've been out and about for like three hundred years at this point and they have their hands full with my younger siblings. Even THEY could do a better job than Tristan, and they're not even four HUNDRED yet."

Despite how funny the sprite was being, Mel tried very hard to keep the stern facade. "Have you told Bastion you're going?"

"Would you believe me if I said I did and he was okay with it, totally changed his mind?"

"No."

"Look, your lakeyness—"

"Mel."

"Jacqueline!"

"Charmed."

"Me too! You're like, one of the coolest magibeans around these parts. All of the littler kids are losing it in the back," Jacqueline said, giggling. Mel smiled to herself. "Anyway. Please don't tell him! He'll get all over protective and stuff. Which I appreciate of course," she said, sticking her palms flat in front of her. "I'm really glad he let me apprentice here! And he teaches us all how to use the swords which is great! I'm very thankful. Don't get me wrong. I just...really wanna do this, y'know? And telling him would make it really hard for me to do this."

"Hmm. You're right. Perhaps I should cut out the middle man and go right to your parents myself?"

"Please don't! I really, really wanna do this!"

"Ah, so they would stop you?"

The sprite made an unsure noise, tilting her hand back and forth in front of her. "Fifty-fifty."

"Interesting."

"What?"

"Oh, plenty of things. You think I know your parents?"

She shrugged. "Most people do! It's kinda obvious, actually." she flushed a bit, scratching her head. "Anyway, I really think someone needs to knock Tristan off his high horse, and since I don't have jousting mastery yet or the means to get a lance and corner him, I was thinking that if I showed him up instead, it'd lay him FLAT on his BACK!"

"I admit, that does sound very appealing."

"Really?"

"Oh, absolutely. I deal with his type all the time. They're all knobs, really. It'd be fun to see all those big airs pushed right out of them. Do you think they'd make a rather rude noise as they deflate?"

The sprite giggled. "I hope so!"

"Then it's settled! I'll be back in two weeks time for my sword, complete with cold resistant opal."

"Really?" she brightened. It was rather heartwarming.

"Truly."

"Ah, thank you thank you THANK YOU!" she hopped forward, almost hugging the Lady of the Lake before stopping herself with a sheepish grin. "Sorry." she cleared her throat. "Anyway, I'm gonna head out now. I'll be fast! They won't even know I was gone," she winked. "See you in two weeks?"

"I'll be there bright and early for the sword."

"Yay! Okay! See you then!"

And with a cheeky little salute, the girl continued her run down the laneway, a scabbard on her back bouncing with each footfall.

She's got it, Mel thought to herself, as the delightfully outspoken sprite crested the hill and disappeared in a flurry of light blue sparks and what looked to be an actual flurry of snow.

-

Two weeks later found Melusine at the front counter once more, requesting to see her completed sword from a delightfully confused Bastion.

"I mean, it's done as done gets, but Tristan isn't back from the far frozen just yet so the opal is missing—"

"No it's not! TA-DA!"

Mel grinned to herself as Bastion turned. She could picture the jaw drop when his whole body seemed to sag in shock as he looked at the person who had just spoken up.

It was Jacqueline. She stood in a very wide horse stance, proudly holding up a small opal, maniacal grin on her face.

"You didn't."

"I did! And I did it in a DAY. And nothing happened to me at all! And you didn't even notice I was gone! I came right back nice and safe! And my parents won't be doing a murder because I told them what I did and they were very proud, which is what I THOUGHT and also KNEW would happen!"

"Well done," Belinda pipped up from her workspace. "And I suppose this is the reason why I couldn't find the sword in question amongst the others?"

"I stayed up all night getting it ready so that I could do THIS!" With a flourish, she pulled the sword out from behind her, placed it gently down on the counter top, and placed the opal right into the setting she had carefully carved for it last night.

It slid right in and glowed a brilliant, bright white. Then, the other gems glowed; the entire sword, in fact, was glowing, an iridescent rainbow. It lifted up off the counter, shaking for but a moment before flying into the scabbard when Jacqueline held it out in front of her.

The glow diminished; the smithy grew silent.

"Your sword, your lakeyness," Jacqueline said, bowing down and offering it to her. "It has been a great hONoUr to BEQUEATH to you this BLESS-ED OBJECT, for I journeyed SOOO FAR to procure the far frozen opal IN BUT A DAY FOR YOU! WITH NAUGHT BUT MINE OWN TWO HANDS—"

"That's quite enough, Jacqueline," Belinda interrupted, amused.

"It was good, right? I sounded just like Tristan."

"Well I'm impressed," Mel said, taking the scabbard and throwing it over her shoulders.

"And I am most definitely having a heart attack," Bastion decided, clutching his chest.

Belinda rolled her eyes, placing her eyepiece down and coming around the table. Carefully, she turned Bastion around and sat him down, looking him over. "You'll be fine."

"And what of Tristan?"

"I see his type all the time. He'll be right as rain. Oh, sure, his ego will take a hit and he may bemoan and grovel and do all sorts of silly it's the end nonsense, but he'll bounce back. They always do. We can only hope he'll be a little more subdued." Mel shrugged.

Jacqueline looked delighted. "Then we'll see who the piece of work REALLY IS."

"Should we call him back?"

"Nah. It'll be funnier if we leave him alone and he comes back all like OH! WOE IS ME! I HAVE FAILED YOU! And then DEFLATES! With GAS NOISES!"

"He'll be so upset," Bastion mused.

"Gas noises?" Belinda would regret asking, quirking an eyebrow.

"Yeah! Y'know, like, PFFFT," Jacqueline blew a very wet raspberry, hopping up and sitting on the counter. "Maybe Mel will come by to ah, soothe his ego?"

"And by soothe you mean—?"

Jacqueline grinned. "Watch him cry like a big baby and die a bit on the inside when he realizes he was bested by THIS GAL!" She hopped up on the counter, pointing at herself with both her thumbs.

"Jolly good! I'll be sure to pop on by in the next fortnight. Now! Bastion! what is it I owe you?"

Still shocked into silence, Bastion barely managed to utter a puff of air. With a sigh, Belinda pat his head and turned to Mel. "Given his present state and the materials you brought for us to use, consider this one on the house. And Mistress Frost? Off the counter, if you please. That's more than enough out of you."

---

My god, that got out of control. Delightful! I'm sure Mel and Jacquie had a ball when Tristan came back as he very much did think he was BESTED by some DEVILISH FOE. And you know what? He wasn't wrong!

Anyway, this SCRIMBLE was requested by @definitelyy-not-a-vampire a haute minute ago:

The drabbley ficlet smile shot thing just. It just. haPPENED. Whoops! Sorry not sorry!

She WAS gonna be scruffy and grubby and full of soot but then when the Lady of the Lake came into play (who in my mind is 100% @kscribbs Melusine of Miller's Law fame), Jacqueline was like "nah. I'm gonna impress the SHIT outta her! >:D"

And that went from IMPRESS to FUCK AROUND WITH AN ABSOLUTE FOP OF A SPRITE WITH HER in like. 100 words while writing the ficlet, lol.

Enjoy! Here's the un-scanned/edited one:

And you bet your ass I have some design notes >:)

I stole a fashion through the ages textbook from the library (and by steal I mean I have renewed it every semester and it has lived on my bookshelf since about 2019) and scoured through the middle ages chapter to figure out this fit

NOBODY TOLD ME IF SURCOTS WERE SHORT OR LONG SO I YOLO'D.

Wanted to throw in some purpleish pink bc I think purple is in Jacquie's palette, she's THAT GOOD at ice >:)

The hair is not short, it is simply in those braided coif. Things???? And it is a MIRACLE they are staying put

This is between 1350-1450 so she's between 1255-1355. IDEAL Gremlin age lmao

I don't have enough experience/markers to make the opal look opal so YOLO lmao

And yes this is uh, up very late lol. BUT YOU CAN SEE TAGS FOR DEETS! AND THIS JUST MEANS DOUBLE SCRIMBLES THIS WEEK LMAO

[dyke-mecha]

Wanted to get a new piercing from my first pay at this internship. Now realized I can choose between either getting that piercing or having food for 2 out of 4 weeks of the month. Joy.

[revelations-mp3]

It has been the longest week and it’s not even over yet I’m gonna be so burned out next week

[kimtaegis]

this weekend was…absurdly miserable lmao

[yohankang]

i really need to pack but i'm in the 'tee hee i'm going on a trip :D' mode and i can't focus at all ahjdfjsjs

[be-good-to-bugs]

you would think considering how much it loves sleeping that my body would, yknow, sleep when i ask it to. or even just when it has barely slept in days and im trying so hard to sleep

[twilightarcade]

[gameshow host of sorts voice] anyways folks it looks like our time here is up, thanks for coming out tonight and we'll see you next time

[sinfulforrest]

had a really lovely day today despite work bein real busy, its honestly the best and happiest I've felt since my grandma passed ; u ; work was nice and then I got to play a load of the splatfest with oakie after gettin home and aa a a its just been great!

[pepprs]

feeling misery and despair about going back to work btw. im trying to suppress it and i did a good job but the inevitable is inevitable