#goodtimes be upon ye

[bdoublehoe]

We are the real winners of MCC this time (Got to see Scar in this dress)

[alebrijediscordico]

dw abt mister goodtimes a few posts below, i miss clicked n posted him here instead of my side,

tho honestly? yall deserve to see him too

[moonlikestodrawsstuff]

Goodtimes be upon ye

[raichett]

Ethically Sourced

CEO Scar Goodtimes gets kidnapped by an eco-terrorist (Grian, who else?) seeking to land a blow against Big Nether. But there may be more at work here than first meets the eye...

Content warnings: kidnapping but done light-heartedly, excessive amounts of lava, allusions to capitalism and its effects upon the environment, vexes as demon equivalents >:)

This can also be found on AO3.

–

ETHICALLY SOURCED

The room is large, a huge hall made of dark blocks. Nicely textured, actually: blackstone and basalt and deepslate, some others mixed in there that Scar can’t identify from this distance. The floor is entirely lava, of course, and Scar is standing in a cage suspended above it, held up by huge chains. It’s all very… fantasy-villain-esque. The builder in Scar is impressed.

In front of him his kidnapper stands, a dramatically thin tower rising from the sea of lava below providing him a platform. It’s even got dripstone detailing on it. Now that’s dedication to an aesthetic.

Scar takes off his burgundy jacket and ties it around his waist. It’s hot in here, his human flesh disliking the heat and making it feel like it wants to melt right off of him.

“You know,” Scar says, conversationally, “for a guy who just spent the last few minutes ranting about how the proliferation of lava is causing immense negative effects on the Nether’s eco-system, you sure do seem to be using a lot of lava in this, ah, villain's lair execution room.”

“This lava,” his kidnapper snaps back, “is ethically sourced!”

Scar blinks. “From where?” he asks. He glances down again at the lava below; the amount of it is truly impressive, especially for an Overworld build.

“From a lava farm,” his kidnapper grits out. “You know, dripstone and cauldrons? It’s part of a preservation programme for striders – the lava from the farms is sold to players to stop them from taking from strider habitats. The excess is used to help replenish the dearth and restore the habitats from where they’ve been left barren and empty.”

“I’ve never heard of them,” Scar says, honestly. It's good news, though.

His kidnapper scoffs. “I wonder why,” he says, sarcastically. “It’s not at all like there’s a silencing campaign around because ethical farms aren’t in the interests of Big Nether companies. You know,” the man spears Scar with a sharp look, “like the one you work for? As a CEO?”

“Ah, yes,” Scar says, lightly, “that.”

Well, at least he has a motive to assign his kidnapper: eco-terrorism. How delightful! Scar likes his job – or, more accurately, he likes the money his job gives him – but…

Scar grins at his kidnapper, exposing his sharp teeth. He runs his tongue along them, drawing attention, and he watches as his kidnapper’s wings fluff up in an instinctual defensive display. Parrots aren’t exactly a predator in the food chain, not like how vexes are.

His kidnapper’s eyes narrow, his face pulling into a frown. He leans forward, sharp eyes inspecting, but isn’t stupid enough to actually get closer. “… A deal?” he asks, slowly, changing gears.

Scar nods. “Standard, you know,” he says, brimming suddenly with pride. “Ten years of high, high profits – and then their souls are mine. The whole board, that is.” His face splits far too much for most Overworld natives to be comfortable with, not that Scar cares.

“Huh,” his kidnapper says. He tilts his head, shuffles his wings, and then laughs. “Wait – all of them? How far into the deal are you?”

“Seven years,” Scar tells him. “And yeah, all of them. That’s far too good to pass up, I’m sure you understand.”

The man raises his hand to his mouth to muffle his giggles, sudden camaraderie springing forth between them. “So I take it their souls are bound for the sands, then?”

Scar nods. “All the pain they’ve caused? When trapped in the sands their souls will regenerate all of what they’ve destroyed and more. Big Nether isn’t going to be around in a couple of decades, I can promise you that, good sir. But…” Scar smiles, more gentle this time. “All of the effort players like you are putting in is appreciated, too.”

“Thanks,” his kidnapper answers, grimacing and looking frustrated, “we try. I – we really do try. I’m sorry that it isn’t always enough.”

Scar shrugs. “Trying and failing is better than not trying at all,” he assures. “Now, er… could I please get out of this cage? I have paperwork to do, emails to answer, coffee to drink, souls to darken in preparation for reaping, all that good stuff.” Curled inside a human skin like this, he can’t phase through the bars without compromising the homunculus – and he’d really rather avoid having to make a new one. Those things are fiddly.

His kidnapper nods. “One sec,” he says, spreading his wings and swooping off to an opening in one of the walls, landing in the room there and pulling a lever. The lava sea is covered with the sound of clunking pistons. Another lever lowers the cage holding Scar to the newly-created ground.

His kidnapper comes back, keys in hand, and unlocks the cage. “Sorry for the misunderstanding,” he says.

Scar beams. “No harm, no foul,” he replies, stepping out of the cage. “Though I have just one question – two, actually. Two questions.”

“… Go on,” his kidnapper says.

“What’s your name?” Scar asks. He crosses his heart with his index finger, nail scratching lightly at his silk shirt. “I’ll keep silent as a grave about it, promise on my demonic heart.”

His kidnapper hesitates a moment. “Grian,” he answers, finally, and Scar’s tastes the vibrancy of the name on his tongue, sunbeams and gunpowder, sweet and tangy.

“Grian,” Scar repeats, just for that taste again. “And, dearest eco-terrorist extraordinaire Grian… what is your number?”

Grian looks startled. “My number?” he asks.

“Oh, you know, for important reasons,” Scar assures. “Conspiracies, cahoots, coffee dates.” He pulls out his phone and waggles it in the air, hoping that Grian will ignore the cracks in the screen and write them off as Scar being supernaturally strong or something, rather than Scar just being supernaturally clumsy with a tendency to drop his phone down staircases. “What do you say?”

Grian stares at him a moment, assessing, before he answers. “I’m always down for cahoots,” he says, a teasing smile starting to form, “but the coffee date had better be amazing if you want a second.”

“It will be,” Scar says, jubilant. Oh, he can’t wait to see this player again! His soul is so bright and ferocious, his name so delectable – Grian, Scar knows, will be such a fantastic companion. Vexes dream of linking themselves to a soul like Grian’s – and that may be getting a bit ahead of himself, but Scar sees clearly the destination he desires. The only question now is the path that will get him there. “Don’t you worry, Grian, it will be.”

[75th-hero]

Woah! Goodtimes be upon ye

[rainbowchaox]

i gotta do it, team rancher

(also if it tickles your fancy, maybe some scarian?)

The Ranchers 💚💛❤️

Whose the cuddler?: Look I be honest both are. I will say that Tango is more open about wanting cuddles and maybe even more PDA stuff. But Jimmy quickly gets used to being ok with wanting cuddles all the time. (Me holding fanon Jimmy with touch starvation). So yes I think Tango starts the affection but Jimmy soon follows suit.

Who makes the bed?: Look I’m sorry but there’s no way in the Nether that Tango “Gets distracted by numerous projects and builds at a time” Tek remembers to make the bed. He isn’t dirty persee just the sort of person that has a idea and needs to do something about said idea in the moment. Plus look at me and try to say that Jimmy wouldn’t gladly do it daily. He is a adorable male wife (COUGH COUGH he feels he needs to be useful so he does chores and cooks and stuff COUGH COUGH)

Who wakes up first?: Look it’s Jimmy. Either it’s tango crashing because his dumbo self stayed up all night doing blueprints on way too much caffeine or Jimmy too comfy won’t get up.

Who has weird taste in music? Honestly probs tango. I feel Jimmy would only listen to all flavors of Folk music and Country music. Tango tunes is probs a train mixed with a electric bass or something.

Who sings in the shower?: Jimmy! And he is hecka good at it (tango calling him his songbird my beloved)

Who cries at the movies?: Look LOOK both of them would hug each other as they cry. GOALS.

Who spends the most out shopping?: Tango solely because in lore I always imagine redstone machines and stuff are hecka expensive. Jimmy usually makes everything he uses (Farms? Basic clothes? Basic furniture etc)

Who kisses more roughly?: Honestly I feel like it be Tango because I feel he would be overly excited while Jimmy gets flustered with a peck on the cheek (my beloved birb)

Who is more dominate?: Honestly I feel like Tango. Primarily because Jimmy has sorta a soft spine and gets trapped over so Tango gives me vibes of “he asked for no pickles” energy.

My rating of the ship: 100 @hybbat I saw you asked the same question (it came when I just finished here)

————————-

Desert Duo 💚💛❤️!

Whose the cuddler?: Okay it’s scar because primarily I can see no fanon Grian where he isn’t like a feral cat being forced to have affection and cuddles upon him

Who makes the bed?: Grian but he gives me vibes of being the type of person to loudly complain while he does so.

Who wakes up first?: Grian but he isn’t a happy morning person but sleep avails him.

Who has werid taste in music?: Look it’s scar. Just the vibes

Who sings in the shower:? Scar and Grian both are good singers. I mean Griande has to have decent cadence to be such a pop sensation.

Who cries at the movies?: Scar primarily I feel he would get so connected to whatever he watches.

Who spends the most out shopping?: Scar “Capitalist” Goodtimes clearly. And I always imagine it’s the most random stuff ever. Like the stuff your grandma buys off those annoying ads about random things.

Who kisses more roughly?: Knowing the fics I have seen especially post cheating arc? BOTH ARE LIP VAMPIRES.

Who is more dominate?: Okay the thing is they are equal level of chaos gremlin so they are equal in fluff and insanity. So it depends really.

My rating of the ship?: 9/10 (I find it cute but not otp level.

[cha0smachine]

woe, goodtimes be upon ye

kinda new to pixel art so I decided to draw goodtimeswithscar as my first drawing. pretty proud of it! Also my first post.

[cherrywoodlife]

Woe, goodtimes be upon ye

[selenealwayscries]

no energy for regular art so goodtimes be upon ye 

[mochiwrites]

A man dressed in a finely pressed suit stands in front of him. Behind the man are rows of people. All eyes are on him, but it does not bother him. He has grown numb to the feeling.

“Mr. GoodTimes, you were the one who made the call to Detective Void and his partner, yes?”

He nods, “I was, sure. Yes.” He confirms, not a single tremor in his voice as he speaks. He ignores the pair of gray eyes staring him down. He does not meet them. His gaze remains on the lawyer.

“And why exactly did you make the call?”

His answer is one that he does not hesitate on. “The defendant had showed me the extreme details of his drug operation. I felt as if it were my duty to get authorities involved before he could make any profit and cause harm.”

Under the table of his seat, his hands clench at the legs of his pants.

“What is it that you were shown?”

Eyes burn into his skin as people stare at him, as they wait for his answer. He speaks with caution, “I was shown the mentioned chemical, which Mr. Fan had been planning on implementing into the next round of drugs.”

He answers each question he’s asked carefully, not letting anything slip beside what is necessary.

“Hm, so you were told of a harmful chemical, one of which the defendant said to you he was planning to use?”

“Yes.”

“People of the jury, the evidence has been laid out in front of you; from the man who made the call himself!” The man turns from the jury to the judge, “No further questions, your honor.”

As soon as he sits, a man replaces him. He stands in the other’s spot, taking it.

“Mr… GoodTimes, was it?” The man asks.

“Yes sir.”

The man’s blue eyes seem to pierce through him, “If I remember correctly, you and your family were thrown out of Aqua Town years ago due to.. criminal ties, were you not?”

His eyes narrow the slightest bit. Yet he smiles, keeps up the facade of politeness. “We were, yes.”

“And if records are correct, my client worked closely with your uncle, with whom you stayed with after leaving town. Did he not?”

“Honestly, I wouldn’t know. My uncle and I weren’t exactly… close, despite living under the same roof.” He doesn’t exactly lie. Not fully. “What my uncle got up to, and who he was in contact with was none of my business.”

He sees the man’s eyebrow twitch, and he allows himself a moment to feel a bit of smugness.

“Yet my client felt it appropriate to share sensitive information with you, unprompted?” The man sounds skeptical, and he has to find a way to avoid throwing suspicion onto himself.

Shit. “I had stumbled upon it.” Well, giving half of the truth won’t ruin him. “When I was discovered, Mr. Fan had attempted to bring me into his operation based on his assumption that I was similar to my uncle.” Distaste laces his tongue as he speaks. He never wants to be compared to that man. Ever.

“…One final question for you. What is your relationship with my client?”

He keeps his face blank, emotionless. He shoves away years worth of memories in favor of the greater good.

“We’re as close as brothers!”

He squashes his younger voice. He ignores it. Smothers it.

Green eyes meet gray, and his stare is cold. “We were acquaintances.”

He watches gray eyes fill with anger, with betrayal and disbelief. Good.

“No further questions.”

The sound of a gavel hitting the bench beneath it echoes throughout the room.

[hermits-in-space]

Woe goodtimes be upon ye

[moonythesly]

Endless Hermits

This is what happens when I can not sleep. The Sandman is a very old comic, but I still enjoy rereading it. Figured a few of the Hermits could do with some Endless intervention.

O, maybe the Endless could do with some Hermit intervention. At any rate- enjoy. This is unbetaed and all that. Enjoy?

He always made sure he was the last one to cross through the portal. A habit he’d picked up from the beginning, when Generik had asked him to stay behind for a talk. That had been the day he first met the strange man in the robes but it certainly would not be the last.

Xisuma would see him at the beginning and end of every Season, when first arriving to their new world and just before leaving. 

“You know.” He spoke up once he knew Joe and Cleo had gotten safely through the portal, Season five awaiting them all. “After this, I’m going to have to start counting our meetings on my toes.” He chuckled at the soft hum from behind him, closest he ever got to a laugh from the man, no...entity that called himself Destiny.

“You have gone longer than I expected.”

“Gonna say you’re proud of me? Didn’t think you’d be that sort of sappy.” Another hum and Xisuma grinned beneath his helmet. “I get it though. I didn’t think I’d get this far either. Not after-” He shook his head to push those thoughts away and focus on the future.

Destiny reached out and rested his hand on the young voidling, “That is why you are one of mine.”

That was new. Xisuma turned his head sharply, wondering if the robed man was another Void Walker but no. Xisuma knew he was something much more, but his thoughts always ended up in a million places if he tried to pinpoint just what that more was.

“Come again, old friend?”

The hum was his only verbal response, but Destiny still squeezed his shoulder before returning to his normal, stoic stance. “Always looking to the future, but still respecting the past. You would do your kind well, Xisumavoid.”

The admin could only blink in wonder before grinning and chuckling again, “Thanks, I guess.” He looks at the portal, purple waves dancing before him, “See you on the other side then? Or, do you want to go first?”

The joke landed, he knew it, but the robed man simply hummed again before vanishing. Xisuma knew he would be on the other side, waiting for him to appear. Though he always wondered...why the other Hermits never saw Destiny standing amongst them.

~*~

The explosion still rang in his ears as he groaned in frustration. “Darn creepers.” The sound of bird wings brought a smile to his face and he pulled his hands from his eyes to stare up at the familiar, pale face. “Hello again.”

The woman just laughed and offered Scar her hand, which he gratefully took to help himself off the ground. Or, well what he thought was ground anyways. Everything was just white and seemed to stretch on forever.

“Mr. Goodtimes, it’s been a while!” And she seemed pretty pleased at that, making Scar blush a bit sheepishly and rub the back of his head.

“Well, I’ve been careful. Dodging and weavin’ and learnin’ how to uses my elytra just right!” She raised an eyebrow, smirk on her lips as he laughed, “Creeper got me.”

Another laugh and she rested her hand on his shoulder, “I know you guys respawn, but one day-”

Scar nodded before shrugging and letting a peaceful smile on his face, “I know. One day comes for all of us.” He held his hands up, “And I’m in no hurry for that day, Ma’am but it makes it a little better knowin’ that someone like you is there at the end.”

Death’s smile didn’t falter, if anything it brightened and she wrapped Scar in a friendly hug, “See that’ just why you’re one of mine! A light for your Hermit friends.” Pulling away she tapped his nose, “Be careful, Mr. Goodtimes.”

“Oh I will be! I’ve got tons of things planned. You know I’m helping out with the mall. Digging out a huge mountain, Cub’s even helping me out.”

She grinned, “Next time you stop by, bring me a picture.”

The terraformer bowed and doffed his head, sure no one liked dying and it frustrated him how often it seemed to happen to him on the server. “Yes, ma’am!” But as the light faded and he found himself back in his bed, communicator beeping with messages from his friends, he couldn’t help but feel a bit better about it all. Practically well, peachy keen.

~*~

Zedaph stared at the mountain in front of him. It wasn’t anything fancy, just, you know, a mountain. Dirt, stone and gravel all stocked up on top of each other. But he wasn’t seeing just a mountain, oh no! He was seeing his new base. The mountain is still there, not a clod nor pebble touched on the surface. Looking as pristine as it did now.

But inside, oh, that was different.

Already his mind’s eye was carving out a wonderful base- big enough to house him and all the ideas waffling about in his brain. Contraptions and gadgets and, well the occasional game of course. All of it, fit right beneath the towering grandeur before him.

“You know,” Zedaph pipped up after a few moments, “You’re normally not this quiet.” He turned around and practically beamed up at the tall, dark man that stood behind him. Wild hair and eyes that literally held the stars, Zed knew him well. He’d known him for years in his dream and waking worlds.

“...I suppose not.” Zed frowned, mountain momentarily forgotten as he took in the sight of the entity-man-deity-star creature. 

“What’s going on? Not even a hello, old chum?”

A soft laugh, “No. I...am not here for a hello.” A thin hand rested on Zedaph’s shoulder and he raised his own to rest upon it, “I’m here for a goodbye.”

“Goodbye? Starting a bit backwards, Mr. Dream.” His frown turned to a worried pout, “Why goodbye? I thought you lot were as eternal as Death.”

Dream let a smile on his pale face but didn’t answer the question, instead using his hold to turn the young Hermit around, “Continue your dreams, Zedaph. When my successor arrives, he’ll need someone like you to surprise him.”

A billion questions filled Zed’s mind but he stayed staring at the mountain, letting the gadgets and contraptions come back to life in his thoughts. He felt Dream squeeze his shoulder and pull away.

“I’ll help him, Dream, whatever I can but” He closed his eyes and felt the emptiness behind him as the entity vanished, “I’ll always be one of yours, mate. Goodbye, old friend.”

~*~

“See, you need ta remember- destruction and creation are one to the eyes that can see beauty. Miss Savitri Devi wrote that and I’m standin’ by it.” And he was determined that Destruction at least think about it.

“Joe, my friend, you are too kind!” The Endless’s voice boomed across the bay as they both looked over the painting the red-haired entity was trying to make of the area. It was, well not the best- but Joe knew there was still something in it. Something wonderful and beautiful simply because of why the painting existed.

“I’m not kind, I’m honest. And just the thought that you, a being labeled as a force of ending, have begun something simply to make it exist. That’s a beautiful thought.” He smirked as the other hummed and tilted his head to the side, looking at the painting and then out to Red Sky Bay. After a few moments, he started to laugh and Joe couldn’t stop himself from joining.

“I think you might be right this time, Joe Hills.” Joe’s smirk grew but he simply stayed where he was, watching the waves for a few moments as Destruction began to pack things away.

“You understand mirrors.”

Joe blinked, “Huh? Well- literally I hope that I do understand their purpose even if some Hermits might not believe I use one.” Another booming laugh and a large, warm and steady hand found its way to Joe’s shoulder.

“I know you understand mirrors in all manner.” He looked at the painting and then his bag before pulling out a leather bound book, “I’ve more travels, my friend, but when we meet again I would love to hear your skills with words have improved.”

“I hope they do, but you have to show me what you’ve created,” And he pointedly used the word, “Can’t have you slacking, retired or not.” He gratefully, almost reverently, took the book handed to him. 

“Haha, of course!” Destruction’s smile softened, “Tread well, Joe Hills. I may no longer be what I was made-but you are still my friend.”

Joe nodded, watching Destruction walk away and vanish slowly in a shimmer of heat and light. The painting stayed where it was but Joe waited. He knew what would happen, even as he held on tightly to the book he’d been given.

Sure enough, as sunset approached, the sea surged forward- the painting washed away forever to the bottom of the lifeless sea. He stood on the edge of the bay for a moment before putting the book away.

Maybe he would be able to keep this one- but the hiss of a creeper behind told him otherwise.

~*~

“I don’t know why you come here so dang often.” Tinfoil Chef huffed, setting a few more stone bricks in place. The castle wall was nearly done and the bright sun wasn’t an issue as long as it was around, so he was taking advantage of the visit.

“You interest me, old man.”

He snorted and continued with his work. “That’s s’pposed to be a compliment.”

The creature smiled and it made a cold shiver run down TFC’s spine. Just like always. Oh, he knew well and right what was sitting on his half finished wall, basking in the late afternoon sun. It was the reason his guard was constantly up, his mind working and trying to stay a step ahead.

A nice challenge after setting the same bricks down over and over again.

“You never want something.”

“Nope. Got everything I need.”

Another huff and the creature turned over, tawny eyes staring straight into TFC’s blue ones. He didn’t blink and neither did it. Finally it huffed again and pulled the expensive sunglasses back down.

TFC said nothing, just went back to work. Every so often he’d say something to the creature, start up a conversation about random things. From mortar to morals, it was never dull and helped keep his tongue and mind sharp.

As night approached, the creature slid off the now finished wall, landing lightly and without even a flinch of pain. TFC was a little envious there as his old bones were aching a bit from the day’s work. But it was proof that he had done something and that he could spend the night relaxing comfortably.

“You never want something.” It repeated again, this time with a soft smirk on it’s lips.

TFC grinned and motioned towards the main house, “Nope. Got everything I need.”

Desire narrowed it’s eyes, but still smirked. The man wanted nothing, yet Desire was often called here.

“Your friends want so much, though.”It happily supplied once tea was placed in front of it and they could begin the familiar tradition of watching and waiting.

“They do. Suppose that’s my want too, then?”

Desire sat up and TFC smirked, “Don’t get too hopeful now. I just meant, I want them to have fun. Explore these worlds as much as I got to.”

The creature pouted in thought, before gently flicking a nail against the ceramic cup, “Do you know what Desire is?”

“Besides you? I might have an idea.” He smirked and leaned his head back, folding his hands over his chest and closing his eyes. “It’s whatever ya want it to be. Love, friendship-brotherhood. All that sort of stuff.”

He heard a sniff and then a comfortable silence.

TFC never wanted anything. Desire knew that. But so many people Desired to not want, that it had to claim TFC as its own. If only because it wanted to.

~*~

They had waited long enough. The Season was done and the server was straining from having to support life long past what it should have. Many Hermits had returned to the Main Worlds, waiting for Xisuma’s word of a new world to explore and colonize.

But he wasn’t done waiting. 

He’d been in the jungle the entire Season. Searching everywhere, looking for any sign of any of them. A portal, or a chest filled with random materials. Even just...just a familiar shirt or hat. Anything that could answer his questions of where his friends had gone.

But there was always nothing. Just the empty jungle and his heart slowly breaking in his chest.

Ren tried to get him to go. To leave the jungle and be free of whatever spell was being cast. Whatever need was keeping Doc tied to the jungle. 

Doc chuckled darkly, watching his reflection in the calm waters near the base the Bdubs had built. The home of the NHO for so long until slowly, like sifting sand, they vanished into the jungle.

The pond rippled and he saw that face again. Old but still young, fluttering from beautiful to horrifying in a matter of ticks. Staring straight at him with her dark, black eyes that managed to hold warmth and pity all at once.

He hated being pitied.

“What do you want.” He spoke up, finally giving into whatever madness was infecting his mind. The figure blinked before simply staring at him, not a word said but Doc felt the pain in his heart grow.

“They’re gone aren’t they.” He tsked, “I won’t find them.”

The figure nodded, a hooked ring coming into view and glinting at Doc. He should just give up. Give in and stop looking for his friends. They were no longer there; he was alone and left behind. 

“Doc!” He blinked, turning around slowly. Ren’s voice echoed around the jungle but he stayed where he was. “Doc, we have to leave now...there’s...not much time.” 

He scoffed and turned back, the figure was gone and his own face stared up at him from the water. He sighed and stood up, heart heavy with Despair as he trudged towards Ren’s voice. The jungle whispered behind him, but he ignored it. There was nothing there now, nothing left for him.

Despair watched from her realm, hook stuck deep in the Hermits heart- dragging him steadily away from her.

“You have been mine long enough, little Hermit.”

~*~

Grian grinned brightly to himself, swooping low through the shopping district as he looked around for any of the other Hermits. The last few days had been far, far too quiet for his liking. Not that the Hermits had not been doing anything, they had just become wrapped up in their projects and such to the point where well, things were quiet.

And Grian did not deal well with quiet.

“Oh, is that someone you think?” A broken giggle resounded around him like shattering glass and he grinned, “Right...oh!” He flew close before shooting back up with a few rockets and hovering mid air, “It’s Iskaall~!” He snickered and searched through his inventory. There were a few fireworks he’d picked up from Hermitville and, ah!

“Yes!” He cackled, pulling out the crossbow and fitting it with the pink colored firework. “Ten points I get him first try, oh this will be perfect!”

He knew Iskall would take the joke, and he had two extra sets of rockets (green and yellow) in his pocket, along with two crossbows. If he managed things right, he could get a mini rocket war started in the middle of the shopping district!

Which, if he was right, would also drag in another Hermit he just spotted exiting iTrade. 

“Wish me luck!” The giggle trailed behind him, tinkling now like an out of tune piano as he pelted Iskall with the fireworks. The other Hermit yelped in surprise, ignoring his trajectory of Sahara and glaring playfully up at Grian.

The glare turned into a grin when Grian flew back over and dumped the green fireworks and a crossbow at Iskall’s feet. “Get Impulse!” He called back, laughing again as he flew towards iTrade.

Catching Impulse by surprise with a firework and again dumping ammunition at his friend’s feet. Impulse only looked confused for all of a second before he was taking off behind Grian and Iskall, laughing as the three ducked and weaved around the shopping district.

Eventually the fireworks ran out and Impulse, tired from the fun, headed back to his base to rest. Iskall took a moment to enjoy the setting sun from on top of the Stock Exchange before saying his goodbyes and flying towards the Nether portal.

Grian waved and sat back down, staring off at his base as the sun finally set and the sound of bare feet caught his attention. He grinned and flopped back, meeting the strange girl’s mismatched gaze.

“Did you see it?! Ugh, I thought it would take forever to get those two to take a break. Do you know how long they’ve been working, like non-stop? Three days!” He held up three fingers, watching as the girl's hair shifted to bright pink and she laughed.

“ThEY dON’t knoW anY BettER, GrIAn~!” She sang, her voice as mismatched as her eyes- but Grian was used to it. It was actually comforting. His life was always one form of chaos or another, either by Destiny or his own Desires. 

“I know, I know. But we were right! A little madness can get anyone to loosen up.” He grinned for a moment before sighing thoughtfully and rolling on his stomach as the girl sat down. Her bare feet now wearing socks and her hair a normal brown-but cut into a half bowl/half pixie style.

“ThINKinG?” She asked, tilting her head and gently running her fingers through his hair. He nodded but the thoughts jumbled away for a moment at her touch.

“A bit. Mostly worrying though. Things are getting. Boring.” He wrinkled his nose and she giggled, softly now like a song bird, “I need to think of something to liven things up a bit, yeah? Something big...like the Civil War or Area 77.”

Something mad and brilliant that the Hermits had never seen before. The problem here, that he didn’t have in Evo or...there, was that the Hermits were a clever bunch. They were also prone to a bit of routine if they weren’t paying attention.

“Something to throw things into a sort of...controlled chaos.”

Delirium giggled again and poked Grian in the forehead, “YoU haVE The Ideas, GRiAn. Don’t OVEr thInk!” Grian stared at the finger against his forehead before his eyes widened and he stood up, dragging the girl up with him in a spin, “Yes! Yes, yes, yes! I have it! Oh, it’s wonderful!”

A game that would be a wonderful ending to their time in this world. He’d need a lot of bone blocks and everyone’s head but…

“Oh, Delight, this is going to be brilliant!” He gave her a warm hug before waving goodbye and flying off to his base to fully plan things.

She stood on the Stock Exchange, giggling as she watched one of her favorites fly off into the night. Death wasn’t going to like this new game- maybe. But it would be fun! And in the end- that was all that mattered.

[writethehousedown]

The Great Rudolph Debacle (Jela) - Puppy

Summary: Nothing says the holidays like watching a movie with one of your good friends (or maybe more?). Especially if it’s some cheap Rudolph movie.

A/N: This was for prompt 1, but I finally got it done! Yes, the movie they’re watching is a real one. It’s a 1992 fiilm done by GoodTimes Entertainment. It’s def initely a trip. Friendly reminder: in this fic, Jinkx uses they/them pronouns.

“I don’t get it.” Jinkx glanced at the opening credits on the screen in front of them. After blinking a few times, still perplexed at the voice talent, they took a sip out of a sweating martini glass, hoping it would make more sense of things. Was the animation this grainy or was it just the classic VHS quality? Their other hand propped up her face which felt like melting off at any moment. “Why in the world would Debbie Reynolds and Whoopi Goldberg of all people sign themselves onto this?”

“Maybe they could have gotten a good paycheck out of this.” Dela plopped onto the couch besides her ginger compatriot and dug one hand into a bowl on the coffee table. “Also it’s rude to talk during the movie, Dink!” she spoke through a mouthful of popcorn.

“It was a legitimate question!” Jinkx hushed their voice and rolled their eyes. And chewing with your mouth open isn’t rude? They wanted to say that, but, as much as they loved her, she wouldn’t fully get it through her head. That’s fine too; enjoy your popcorn.  “But I guess you’re right,” They were back at their first volume “All stars have some things to hide from their resume. After all, Bette Midler was Kitty Galore.”

“But that’s-“

“Della. I’d watch anything with Bette Midler… I’ve suffered a lot.” They sipped some more from their glass and stared back at the screen.

It was mid-December and TV stations across the world played its typical fare of holiday classics on repeat, but today was not the day for primetime. Jinkx had offhandedly mentioned one night that they hadn’t seen the original Rudolph, well not in a while. Last time they had seen it on a much smaller screen and Jinkx was a much smaller Jinkx.  Being the holiday enthusiast that she was, Dela took it upon herself to educate her friend on the wonders and joys of the film, plus the many sequels and direct-to-DVD remakes of the original: the cinematic Rud-iverse, as she liked to call it. It wasn’t like she could tell though; for all she knew, those all took place in the same continuity.

“I know I shouldn’t be talking right now,” Dela stage whispered into her old friend’s ear, her statement ending with a signature uptick, “but I thought you were going to be sober during this marathon?”

“Oh, I am. Don’t worry.” They took another sip, some sugar from the rim sticking to the edge of their chin and some whipped cream made a cute little dot on their nose. “It’s cocoa. Or… it’s more chocolate milk at this point.”

“Really? I thought it was some Kahlua or chocolate liqueur thing.”

“Nope.”

“It’s fine, you can – Wait is that one of the good glasses?”

“Don’t worry about it. Let’s get back to the movie.” Jinkx embarrassedly smiled and took another long sip, forgetting about the reason they were over for a second. No matter the quality, Dela didn’t just put it on simply for the ambience. Their attitudes simply remained for the next twenty or so minutes: Dela with her terminal delight and Jinkx with nonplussed confusion about this cheap mockbuster.

“I wonder. How much did they have to pay for royalties for the song?” Dela inquired as Paul McCartney’s “Wonderful Christmastime” started playing under a montage.

Jinkx blinked a few times. Up until now, they weren’t even sure she knew what royalties even were. “I guess that explains the why the visuals are so b-”

“Don’t say that! You’ll hurt the animators’ feelings.”

“Well, they’re not here right now, so.” That seemed to halt the conversation until Jinkx started again only seconds later. “Oh gods, are they gonna use the whole song?”

“Well….” The sample stopped and that answered Jinkx’s question. “Anyway. Sorry for interrupting.”

For one of the longer stretches of the movie, the two sat in silence, occasionally moving for bathroom breaks or refilling (and redecorating) the cocoa martini glass. Jinkx silently prayed to any deity they could think of, hoping their glass hadn’t cracked from the heat.

“Man, they are really trying to stretch this plot thin, aren’t they? Five verses of a country song doesn’t need to take up an hour thirty minutes.” They planted themself back on the couch, placing the martini glass on the coffee table.

“You easily can say the same about the Rankin-Bass special too, Jinkx.” Dela retorted, having ditched the popcorn and focused on the movie again. She placed a hand on Jinkx’s shoulder and rubbed it comfortingly.

“But that was different, Dela. The pacing was good and the story was simple! I wouldn’t complain about this normally, but there weren’t any fairies or witches being the big bad. There were more realistic villains. Like the Abominable Snow Monster… but mostly nature itself. And it was charismatic and the characters were likable and there wasn’t an excessive side cast-”

Jinkx was interrupted by their friend shushing her, her finger awfully close to her mouth. They could have placed her mouth over the tip and done some lewd gesture, but it felt too intimate even for these friends. “I get it,” Dela responded. “I think there’s like fifteen minutes left, but we can skip the credits, okay?”

“Sounds good to me.” Jinkx put her head on their friend’s shoulder and sighed contentedly. “But you don’t have to though. I can take on more. There have been more trips to the uncanny valley than I have traversed.”

“We can take a break for now… cuddle maybe? Probably we can watch the next one another day… when you’re in a better headspace to do so.”

“Cuddles sound great.” Jinkx moved her head into Dela’s lap and sighed. “Hey, what are friends for after all?”

Dela nodded her head and turned off the TV. “Exactly.”

“I love you, Dela.”

Dela shot her head up quickly and perker her ears.. “Wait… Dink. Did you say something?” Jinkx quickly shook their head. “Oh, okay… but in case you did. I love you too.”

[the-sturgeon-mary]

woe crab be upon ye

I'd kill for you, I love you, my sweet cheese, my goodtime boy

[dreamketchers]

We were in Tacna and stumbled upon friends we met at Fontainebleau State Park 3 years ago. We had an an awesome two days with them! Deb taught Kim her yoga moves while I took Rodney exploring the Barry Goldwater Range and Fortuna Mine in the Jeep. We moved on to Winterhaven, but met them at the Los Algondones border for lunch, pedicures, massages and $2 beer. The line coming back to the US at 2pm was terribly long! The worst we've ever seen! Cars were waiting 2+ hours and it was 3+ hours for pedestrians standing in line in the sun. We waited for 20 or 30 minutes and moved maybe 50 feet. The border is now open until 10pm, so we left the line and went back to wait it out with margaritas in hand. We meet other people in the same situation and bonded over it with drinks, lol! People offered to let us cut in line with their families who had been standing in line. It was nice of them to offer, but we could never do that. After 2 hours the line was just getting longer, but the heat of the sun wasn't as bad. We started walking to get in line and Kim stopped for a churro. Then the Deb and the RV community came to the rescue. As a motorhome came by, Debbie asked if they had room for four more RVers. They said yes! Debbie yelled "come on!" I said forget the churro, let's go and ran across the road to get in. We loaded in the motorhome and stacked up our passports. Border Patrol did come in and we were each individually identified. Deb clicked her heels and we were across the border and back to our cars in the blink of an eye. I still feel like we cheated, but did we? . #didwecheat #bordercrossing #rvcommunity #longlines #goodtimes #losalgodones #mexico #oldfriends #surprisevisit #barrygoldwater #fortunamine #goodfood #gooddrinks #memories #mexico (at Barry M Goldwater Bombing Range) https://www.instagram.com/p/CZzWineuBXN/?utm_medium=tumblr

[therealteemorris]

THE TIME OF THE UGLY CHRISTMAS SWEATERS IS UPON US!!! And yes, I got some nerdy ones! ‪Ready for the #FridayFunRun? I am LIVE this morning on @twitch with Shadow of the @tombraider where #adventure awaits. Come on by http://twitch.tv/theteemonster and kick off your weekend with me.‬ #twitch #ps4 #videogames #laracroft #chat #shenanigans #goodtimes https://www.instagram.com/p/B5uqHBxAt8R/?igshid=g548rlz1nrp2