#its quay honestly

[monstersandmaw]

Male drider pirate captain x gn human (mild nsfw)

Disclaimer which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

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Surprise! A story out of the blue! Hope you like it.

Content: a human who faces daily discrimination for being one of the only humans in a relatively isolated society of non-humans, non-explicit/detailed mention of unwanted sexual/physical contact (it’s brief, but it’s in there - paragraph beginning ‘Still, they couldn’t be any worse than the naga...’), a reader who was orphaned at a young age, a dread pirate captain who’s actually a total softie, a motley crew of pirates who are also all secret sweethearts, and a tiefling friend who wants the best for you. And a briefly spicy ending. Enjoy? Wordcount: 8710

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For all its pretty beaches and steady flow of gold and goods, Cutthroat Cove was hardly the kind of place that people aspired to reach, and it wasn’t the kind of place people lingered once they washed up there, humans least of all.

To get off the island, you had to find a pirate ship willing to take you, and the price of passage was usually dearer than it first appeared. Most of the crews didn’t like humans aboard either, which was another odd stacked against you.

“To the Empress!” A shout went up from the furthest corner of the dingy tavern, and tankards were raised in a jeering chorus of howls and inhuman noises. You glanced up from where you’d been drying off the wooden mugs that Harrow had just finished washing, and you watched as the crew of the Blackbird, flush with fresh plunder, began a familiar toast. “May she continue shitting out shiny gold coins for us to keep plucking out of her fat little merchants’ hands!”

Their laughter filled the small, low-ceilinged common room and made your ears buzz. There must have been a siren among them, you thought distantly as you shook your head to clear it. No one else seemed affected, but a nearby patron — a triton leaning heavily on the wooden bar — leered toothily at you and flared the fins on the side of their head in a mocking sneer.

As you turned away to diffuse the situation, your elbow caught a bottle of rum on the edge of the counter. It teetered and would have smashed had Harrow not grabbed it with his prehensile tail and shunted it back to safety. He shot you a warning look and rolled his dark eyes affectionately. A creased dimple appeared in his cheek and the tiefling smirked a fanged smile at you before throwing a wet dishcloth in your face. “Watch it, clumsy,” he snorted playfully. “Honestly. What are you like?”

“Thanks,” you mumbled and tried not to watch too closely as his purple tail uncoiled slowly from the bottle. Perhaps it came from being raised on a mostly non-human pirate ship, or perhaps you’d just been made differently, but your fellow humans had never done much for you, and in fact, the less human someone looked, the more likely you were to find yourself tripping over your feet around them.

With another sigh, you turned to see to a goblin with blood red hair who had just leaned over the bar to yell an order at you above the clamour in the room, a gold ring glinting in her nose, when the door flew open and a small harpy boy flapped inside, with his feathers all ruffled and his chest heaving from a wild flight up the hill to the tavern.

“The Widow’s Web docked down on Rum Quay fifteen minutes ago!” the boy panted, wide eyed and sweaty faced. “And they’re coming ashore!”

For a moment, the entire, packed tavern went completely still. Everyone seemed to be holding their breath. Someone set down their tankard with a loud clunk but for a good ten seconds, that was the only sound in the whole room.

“The Widow’s Web?” someone finally hissed. “She never docks anywhere. What the fuck is she doing here?”

“Maybe they need to resupply?”

“They don’t resupply ashore,” someone else scoffed. “They just take what they need off the Imperial Navy and keep on sailing!”

“Maybe one of them is sick?”

“Or they’re looking for new crew?”

“I heard the captain wraps people up in his webs to eat later…” came a nearby, dark muttering.

“Or maybe —”

“— Maybe they just want a good drink for once, and find Her Imperial Majesty’s rations perennially disappointing,” came a deep, smooth voice from the open doorway behind the harpy boy.

The poor lad squeaked and puffed up in surprise, floundering out of the doorway in a twittering spray of mousy feathers and gangly, avian legs, and everyone stared at the figure who had melted from the darkness beyond to fill the doorway completely.

It was impossible not to stare. You’d seen driders before, but you’d never seen one like him.

He moved on seven dark legs that were armoured with a natural carapace like a crab, with pointed spikes at the joints that glinted in the low light, and the eighth was a prosthetic, replaced below the articulated ‘knee’ joint of his right front leg with a shining, steel limb that had been sharpened to a point to match his other limbs, and which clinked softly when he walked. He had to duck almost double to squeeze through the tavern door that had been built wide and tall enough for even a draft centaur to get through.

As he leaned down, his straight, white hair fell forwards around his face like a shroud, momentarily concealing his slate-grey skin that was tinged with purple. He had four eyes, all completely black, and dark mandibles at the corners of his mouth, and as he entered the tavern, he took off his cocked hat and hooked it casually over the upward turning spikes on his left foreleg.

His spider’s body was huge and pendulous and black, covered in a downy fur that shifted like moonlight and spread up his human back, vanishing out of sight beneath a heavy, black coat with silver buttons and emblazoned on the back with the silver web of his ship’s emblem, the Widow’s Web.

Someone dropped a glass in the silence of his arrival, and you startled a little at the sound. Beside you, you heard Harrow inhale slowly. “Holy shit,” he hissed, and his dark, cloven hooves made a soft clopping against the flagstones as he sidled up to you. He was shorter than you, and you glanced down to find him looking up at you with wide, worried eyes. “That’s… That’s him…”

“Capitan Steelsling…” you whispered. “I thought he and the Widow’s Web were just… a myth? You know?” you added, glancing between Harrow and the pirate captain.

Behind Steelsling, a truly colossal, silk-white bison minotaur dipped her horns beneath the lintel and surveyed the room. She had red eyes and a pink nose, and was almost as legendary as her captain, and together, they made their way towards an empty table near the bar.

“Good luck, mate!” Harrow elbowed you in the ribs and ducked away with a mumbled lie about checking the stock.

You could hardly hear anything through the fear that had started a pounding at the back of your skull. You were going to have to go over there.

Still, they couldn’t be any worse than the naga who’d grabbed you with their tail and coiled around you tightly enough to make your ribs creak last week, only releasing you when the laughter of their companions had faded and you’d nearly passed out. Or the gnoll who’d tripped you into her lap and laughed about you being a soft little human while her claws had picked through your shirt. Or the siren who’d made you take your top off and dance a jig on the table with their hypnotic voice, to the rabid amusement of a packed bar. You’d endured a thousand humiliations in your life at Cutthroat Cove, and you were certain that you could weather whatever this dread pirate could dream up for you too.

Squaring your shoulders, you set the damp cloth down on the bar, wiped your hands on your trousers, and strode across the room towards the newcomers, with the eyes of the entire tavern on you.

The captain watched you approach with an unnerving intensity in his four, jet black eyes, but his minotaur first mate seemed entirely bored and unimpressed by the entire establishment. You included. Clearly you posed no threat to her or her captain, so she ignored you for the time being.

You drew to a halt in front of their table and looked up into the captain’s inhuman face. He was sharply handsome, with the hard, cut-glass plains of his cheeks and jawline thrown into start relief in the low light of the bar, and the thick, black, curved talons at the ends of his mandibles glinted in the lamplight like pieces of obsidian.

He tilted his head in a manner that might have been either patronising or curious, you couldn’t quite tell, and blinked his black, almond-shaped eyes slowly. The two pairs moved slightly out of time with each other, the smaller, lower outer pair starting first, followed by the larger inner pair. Holding his gaze for long though was like trying to hold an oil slick in your hands.

“What can I get for you?” you asked, cursing the way your voice cracked a little.

Conversation began to pick up hesitantly around you, and in the far corner, someone got out a tin whistle and began to play a well-known and popular song. The captain smiled when he heard it, his mandibles chittering briefly, and he leaned over to his first mate and grinned, “Remember when Keel played this and Harrik fell overboard trying to impress him?”

She snorted suddenly, her wild, white mane of curls bouncing and her large, fluffy ears flicking back and forth. “How could I forget that?” she chortled. “He looked like a wet rat when we hauled him back on deck. Couldn’t look Keel in the eye for a week!”

You stood stock-still while they reminisced, wary and patient and silent.

The captain turned sharply back to you and twitched his head a little. “My apologies,” he purred. “We are still waiting for a few more of our crew, but I know what they’ll have to drink at any rate. Perhaps you could bring a couple of pitchers of your finest ale over, and six tankards?”

You nodded and paused just long enough to see if they were going to add anything else to their order.

The first mate leaned forwards towards you, resting an elbow on the thick tabletop. It groaned under her muscular weight. “What’s in the kitchen tonight?” she asked. Her voice was rough and deep, but her tone was gentle enough.

“Roast pork,” you said quickly. “And boiled vegetables.”

The captain nodded. “We’ll wait for the others to order food, I think. If that’s alright with you?”

You blinked. “What?” you said before you’d thought about it. “I mean, of course. I’ll be right back with the ale. Excuse me.”

And with that, you bolted back to the bar, sweaty and a little shaky. They hadn’t been at all what you’d been expecting, and they weren’t like the usual patrons of the Salted Kipper.

Harrow had emerged by the time you returned, and he shot you a look. “Well?” he asked.

“Well what?” you snapped, distracted.

“Well what’s he like? I heard from Maggie that Steelsling ripped a human’s head clean off their shoulders just for looking at him too long, and one time, he used that legendary ‘steel’ web of his to garrote the commander of Port Liberty, but the thread was so fine the man didn’t know it had happened til he was bleeding out on the marble floor. And his first mate is hardly any better. I heard —”

“You shouldn’t listen to what people say,” you said with a frown as you fished the enormous pitchers out of the cupboard under the bar and turned to fill one from the barrel on the wall behind you. “You know how much bullshit gets peddled through here in a single night — how much sailors love to exaggerate.” In truth, you didn’t want Steelsling to overhear Harrow’s words and think you were gossiping about him.

“Yeah, but… no smoke without a fire, right?”

You just shook your head and concentrated on filling the pitcher without creating too much of a foaming head on the ale.

With the two pitchers set on a wide, wooden tray, along with the six empty tankards, you set off for their table again. En route, someone with sharp claws grabbed a fistful of your arse and you had to step over the swaying, serrated tail of a lizardfolk at the table next to the drider captain’s. She cackled a laugh at you when you nearly spilled the pitchers because of it. One slid a terrifying couple of inches along the tray as it tipped, and you wobbled in a desperate attempt to stop it sliding all the way off.

You cursed as you staggered, completely off balance, but something solid caught you at the hip and buttressed you up. Cold relief sloshed through you as you saved the pitchers from toppling off to make an ungodly mess all over the floor, only to look up and find that the drider captain himself had jutted out one of his huge, armoured legs to steady you. It was the steel prosthetic of his right foreleg, you realised, and you could feel its coldness seeping through your clothes the longer you stayed pressed against it.

All the blood drained from your face and you felt your jaw go slack. “I’m so sorry,” you blurted, and you almost leapt away from the contact to set the tray down, hoping to disappear as quickly as possible.

“It’s no trouble,” he said in his oddly polite, lyrical voice. You’d expected something coarse and harsh from the legendary sea captain, but he was refined and softly-spoken. “Does that happen often?” he asked, sounding genuinely curious.

“Uh…” you swallowed, stepping back with the tray held in front of you a bit like a shield. “I mean… I’m pretty much the only human on the island now, so where else are they going to get their fun, you know?”

You’d said it with a false lightness to your voice, hoping to make him smile and say ‘fair enough’, but his expression darkened and his eyes glittered dangerously.

“It’s fine,” you babbled. “Really. It’s harmless. They’re just blowing off steam, you know?”

That also didn’t help.

He glared around the room and you got the vague impression that the people who had been staring, hoping for an impressed reaction from him, suddenly looked away in shame.

“Excuse me,” you said again, and fled.

The rest of his crew arrived not long after that, and they were an equally odd mix of people: another drider, though she was stocky and built like a tarantula, and her arms and torso were thickly muscled where Steelsling’s body was lean and wiry; a delicate cervitaur who looked about as unlikely to find a home on the sea as the Empress herself, with a white coat and white antlers and a dancing, graceful way of walking that wouldn’t have been out of place in a palace; a rugged, crab-like merfolk who was armoured to the nines in his own orange chitin and had pincers for hands and a sour look on his face as he squeezed his bulky carapace between the tables; a forest naga with a rainbow shimmer to her tail and dreads that fell to her waist; a tiny, waifish, hummingbird harpy whose iridescence matched the naga’s in vibrancy if not in hue; and finally… a human?

Yet again that evening, you tried not to stare, but it was so unusual to find a human among a crew of pirates in these parts that you weren’t the only one taken aback. People hissed and whispered behind their mugs, but no one tried anything with the other human in the room. They saved that for the one they knew was alone and largely unprotected.

As you worked the other tables that night, dodging wayward hands and sneaking trip hazards in a familiar dance, you caught glimpses of the way the crew of the Widow’s Web laughed and joked among themselves. They were clearly close as family, the realisation of which struck you to the core with something akin to genuine, physical pain. The other pirates who frequented the Salted Kipper were business partners and tight-knit groups, but there was always something festering away beneath the surface — some jealousy or scheming distrust — but the Widow’s Web crew touched each other frequently with a friendly nudge or a playful shove, and they laughed. They laughed until they cried and fell about on each other’s shoulders over something and nothing, and even Steelsling himself seemed amused. He kept a little back from the others though, as though he wasn’t quite a part of it, and he kept his four eyes roaming the room every so often too, as though keeping watch for trouble. Wherever he looked, people looked away, uncertain.

Frequently, his glinting gaze landed on you. When that happened, you ducked your head and busied yourself with another task, but you felt the weight of his four eyes on you as you crossed the room all the same.

If the scattered crumbs of gossip were to be believed, which they rarely were, that night was the first time in six years that the Widow’s Web had formally put to shore, and no one expected to see them again for another six at least.

And yet, a month later, the door opened and in strode the hulking form of the first mate, accompanied by her eight-legged captain and a few of their crew.

You served them ale, and he asked you how you were as you set the pitchers down. “Fine, thanks,” you mumbled, head down.

It seemed to irritate him that you were so deferential, and he sighed sharply.

“You?” you added, glancing up as you tacked the question on as an afterthought.

His mandibles twitched in what might have been an arachnid smile and his shoulders dropped a visible inch. “I’m well, thank you. We had a successful couple of encounters on the Whale Road Shore lately.”

“You went all the way to the Whale Road Shore?” you gasped, staring openly at him. “But that’s… that’s at least a two week sail from here, even with the winds in your favour? How did you make it there and back in so little time?” Distances, maps, and charts had always fascinated you, the way a caged bird dreams of open windows.

Across the table, the first mate chuckled, and with a jolt you remembered yourself, and your place, immediately.

“Forgive me,” you said quickly. “I didn’t mean to pry. Enjoy your evening.”

“Wait?” came Steelsling’s soft, rich baritone. He didn’t speak loudly or harshly, but the simple, politely uttered question stopped you in your tracks. “You weren’t prying, and I don't mind. We have a wind witch aboard. Makes things much easier and faster.”

“Oh,” you breathed. A wind witch? Was there no end to this crew’s mystery?

“They’ll be here any minute,” Steelsling said carefully, deliberately, pointedly. “If you want to meet them.”

“Oh, no… thank you,” you said, despite the way your heart ached to meet a real wind witch. It was a particular talent that only humans had, though other species had similar gifts with the weather. It might have been nice to talk to another human after so long. “No, that’s alright. I don’t want to intrude, and I… I should get back to work.”

The captain just nodded, but he didn’t speak to you directly again that night. The human on his crew — the wind witch — did show up a little while later, accompanied by the pretty cervitaur and the fiery-looking orange merfolk, and the crew lost themselves again in their food and drink and conversation. All but one of the crew, you realised after they’d been there an hour. The captain himself was sitting back, resting his humanoid upper body against the wall of the inn, his spider legs tucked up tightly around him, almost like a cage of spiked, black steel with one silver bar, and he had his arms crossed over his chest and a dark glower on his face. You tried not to look at him when you discovered him already watching you, and you traded a week’s worth of floor scrubbing with Harrow to avoid serving their table again.

Month after month, the crew of the Widow’s Web returned to the Salted Kipper, and month after month, the captain watched you.

He watched you dodge the other patrons, sloughing off their insults and jibes and clumsy, pawing attempts to get you into their lap, and each time, his expression grew darker and more severe. He stopped taking part in his table’s merriment, glowering in the corner like a monster from a fairytale while his crew carried on around him. Only his first mate would frown at him and try and get him to engage, but he never did for long. You started to think you’d insulted him by refusing the honour of a conversation with the wind witch, and he was concocting a truly venomous revenge for your rudeness.

Then, after six straight months of visits, they vanished.

No one saw the black and silver sails of the Widow’s Web for months, and gossip about them erupted.

Rumours circulated like gulls on the wind: they’d been sunk by the Empire; they’d been swallowed up by a kraken who’d been hunting Steelsling for years after taking his right leg off; there’d been a mutiny and they’d all killed each other in the process; they’d strayed off the edge of the world; they’d strayed off the edge of the world and then returned with some mysterious illness; the captain had eaten his crew one at a time while stranded in the doldrums… Each theory was more ridiculous than the next, but you came to miss the crew’s polite presence in the corner of the inn. The lowering eyes of the deadliest pirate in the known kingdoms had gone some way to lessening the way you were treated as a human among so many of what the Empire called the ‘monstrous species’ and the ‘beast folk’. Monstrosity was a relative thing, you’d found.

One morning, after preparing the inn for the day, you headed down alone to the harbour to stock up on supplies for the kitchen. The folk who ran the market were used to you, given that you’d been on the island since you’d washed up there at the age of eight, and they’d stopped trying to fleece you on each purchase you made for Silas, who ran the inn.

You’d just added a box of smoked salt into the groaning basket on your arm when a gasp went up from the nearby shoppers and you turned to see what had snagged their attention. The elegant and eerie prow of the Widow’s Web — a series of carved, black spiders crawling up a cylindrical spar — and the furled black sails of the legendary ship as it was towed into port drew the attention of everyone in the harbour-side market.

You’d never seen them outside of the inn, and you watched as the small, efficient crew scuttled around making last-minute preparations to the lines and the sails before docking, and there, leaning his weight casually against the taffrail with his white hair streaming out behind him like a banner, was Captain Steelsling himself. Your mouth went dry at the sight of him and you stared openly, drinking in the contrast between the curve of his dark spider’s body and the angular lines of his slim, armoured legs. They looked like they could puncture the hull of a warship like a harpoon, and his prosthetic caught the sun and flashed blindingly for an instant.

You watched in awe as he left the deck and scuttled up the rigging with enviable ease to talk briefly to the figure tucked away in the crows nest. That done, he fearlessly descended the rigging and joined the others on the main deck. Just as he turned to give an order to someone on his left though, he froze and you looked on with an odd mix of trepidation and delight as he noticed you.

For a long time, he stared at you. Then, finally, he inclined his head and went about the business of making port.

You had intended to be gone from the market by the time the lengthy process of bartering for better docking fees was over, but fate it seemed had other ideas. You were halfway through haggling with the knife-sharpener for a more reasonable price for her services when she looked up and she dropped the small paring knife she’d been using as a prop to try and frighten you into giving in and accepting her price.

“Captain Steelsling…” the skinny naga exclaimed, and then she hissed at you. “Get out of the way, you little bilge-rat. Don’t you know who this is? My apologies, Captain, my apologies. How can I help you?”

“I know who he is,” you said carefully, turning and smiling shyly at him. His dark mandibles hitched up on one side and he crossed his arms. His long, white hair was plaited back off his face in a series of intricate, interlaced designs, cascading down over his trademark black coat with its silver buttons, and he looked so dashing that your heart skipped a beat. His captain’s hat was nowhere to be seen and he carried no visible weapon, but the authority washing off him was enough to make people skirt around him with their eyes averted.

“Good to see you again, and in daylight this time,” he said, and the knife-sharpener sputtered something unintelligible behind you while he ignored her completely. “How are you?”

“Well, thank you,” you replied. “You’ve been gone a long time…”

A sad expression flickered across his face. “Yes,” he sighed, and his posture sagged. “A sad business, but it’s over now. I’m glad to be back. I’ve grown rather fond of a certain inn here in Cutthroat Cove after all.”

“You have?” you asked, astonished. “I thought you only came to the Kipper because your crew like it. You always look so miserable.”

The knife-sharpener gasped audibly at your bluntness and started to titter something about offering him whatever he wanted, free of charge.

“I didn’t come to talk to you, and I sharpen my own blades, thank you,” he snapped at her, and turned to look over his shoulder, away from the market square. “Will you walk with me? I have a hankering to stretch my legs after so long at sea.”

“Uh…” You would expected back at the inn soon, but there was little you could do if the king of pirates himself wanted a moment of your time. “Sure.”

He smiled again, and held out a hand. “Let me take that for you.”

Still a little stunned, you mutely handed the creaking basket to him. He took it like it weighed nothing at all and hooked it over his other arm so that it was in no danger of swinging and accidentally clocking you around the head. He was massive on his stilt-like legs, after all.

You walked in silence for a little way, along the waterfront towards the old Imperial fortress that had been taken over by the Raven Queen - the local pirate power in these waters. She, ultimately, deferred to Steelsling though, as most pirates did. And there you were, trotting along at his needle-like heels while everyone stared.

“Why would you think I’m miserable when I’m at the tavern?” he asked after a while.

“What? Oh… I didn't mean to offend you,” you said quickly. “I’m sorry.”

He sighed at that, and you got the feeling you’d said the wrong thing. Instead of pressing the issue though, he paused at a bend in the fortification walkway and looked directly at you. “Why do you stay here?” he asked.

You frowned. “I don’t understand.”

“If you’re so unhappy here — treated so poorly — why do you stay?”

You scoffed a little laugh and turned to look out at the bright blue sea.

A strong wind was whipping the peaks of the waves to foam and the gulls dipped and soared on the currents, buffeted this way and that and seeming to love every minute of it. Further out, near the cliffs off Needle Point, gannets speared straight down from the clear sky with barely a splash as they disappeared into the waves, chasing the fish that glittered and flashed beneath the surface.

Salt air filled your nose as you inhaled and you shook your head. “Don’t have much choice, I guess. I can’t afford passage on a ship — not at the prices they charge a human — and… I have nowhere else to go anyway.”

“No family?” he asked carefully.

You shook your head. “No. My parents were killed when the Albatross was captured.”

You caught the soft inhale of shock from the drider captain and turned to look up at him. His solid, black eyes were wide and his mandibles had parted to reveal soft, almost human-like lips behind, and a row of sharp, white teeth. The soft, ombré shading of grey that spread up his jaw, fading from almost coal black around his mandibles to a heather grey around his eyes, was almost mesmerising enough to ignore the look of open horror on his face. “Your parents were on the Albatross?” he whispered at last.

You nodded. “My da was the cook. Ma was a gunner.”

His black eyebrows rose at that. “But you survived?”

“Got washed overboard,” you shrugged. “I was eight.” You fought down a tide of sickening memories and rested your forearms on the stone wall of the old fort.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “My first mate, Ellary, led the mutiny against the captain of the Bloodcrest after what he did to the Albatross. She killed him herself.”

“Good.” Somehow, that did bring a bitter kind of consolation, and you managed a smile. “Anyway,” you said. “When I washed up here, Silas took me in as a pot-washer and floor-scrubber at the Salted Kipper. It’s not so bad…” you said, but you didn’t sound convincing, even to your own ears.

Steelsling shot you a flat look. “I’ve seen the way they treat you there,” he growled. “I’d have cut off their hands if they tried to touch me like that.”

“Yeah, well, we can’t all shoot barbed wire out of our bodies, can we?” you said, speaking yet again without thinking first.

Instead of being insulted though, the captain laughed loudly and freely. “I suppose not,” he said when the sound faded naturally, like a retreating wave on the shore. “Listen, there’s an opening on my crew. It’s nothing exciting, but we’re a soul down now, since Tammas had to go back to his family on land, and I’d like to ask you to join us.”

You blinked at him. “Me?”

“Yes.”

“But… Why? I haven’t been at sea since I was eight. I’d be no use to you.”

“I know for a fact you can cook, and I bet you’re just as capable at mending and fixing things. Besides, I think you’d make a good fit in our family.”

Sure, you’d grown pretty handy in a number of areas over the years, but you were hardly a sailor. “You’d do better to ask around the market,” you said, fighting down a wave of anxious pressure in your chest. “I — Thank you, for the offer, but I should get going. They’ll be wondering where I am.”

You turned without another word and walked away before you’d even realised he still had your basket over his arm. Seconds later, he scuttled up behind you, his needle-like legs making scarcely a sound on the stone, save for the single steel pin of his prosthetic, and he darted in front of you, blocking the way with his body. Your breath caught as a moment of panic flared and dissolved almost immediately. He held the basket out to you but didn’t relinquish it once your fingers gripped the handle. “Think about it,” he said. “The Widow stays here for a week, but I shan’t push you.”

And with that, he let go and stepped to one side, and you fled back to the tavern with your heart pounding.

You dropped three tankards that night, tripped over two tails that weren’t even in your way, and nearly landed in a slime’s lap before Harrow pulled you to one side and asked if you were coming down with something.

You shook your head. “No, I’m sorry. I’m just… distracted.”

“What’s going on?”

With a sigh, you told him, and he gawped at you like you’d grown another head when you got to the part about being offered a spot on Steelsling’s crew.

True to his word, Captain Steelsling and his crew stayed away from the tavern until the very last night that the Widow was due to stay in port. When Ellary opened the door and stepped in, the usual hush descended on the common room, and Harrow shot you a look. ‘Do it’ he mouthed at you along the length of the bar, and you sucked in a huge breath for courage and held it til your lungs burned.

When you made no move and looked like you might possibly throw up instead, Harrow marched over to you and poked you right in the centre of your chest, none too gently. “Fucking do it,” he said. “I’m going to miss the hell out of you, but if you don’t take this chance, you’ll never get off this gods-forsaken lump of rock. Plus, he fucking likes you.” When you frowned, Harrow rolled his eyes. “The dread pirate Steelsling, who famously never comes ashore, takes one look at you and comes back here to this shitty tavern once a fucking month for six fucking months, apologises for being away for so long without telling you, threatens to personally skin anyone who lays a hand to you, and —”

“— wait, what?”

“Oh.” Harrow’s dark eyes widened guiltily. “You didn’t know?”

“No, I didn’t know! What the fuck?”

Harrow shifted his weight. “I only learned about it when I overheard Lannicka grousing about how she wanted to teach you a lesson but didn’t want to wake up in a fucking web, dangling off a spar on her own ship…” He cleared his throat and glanced at the floor between his dark goat’s hooves. Behind him, his tail swished back and forth. “Turns out your captain overheard someone a few nights ago down at the docks laughing about getting you to spill ale all down your shirt, and he let it be known that the way people treated you was… ‘unacceptable’…”

“I wondered why people had backed off a bit this week,” you muttered. “I just thought they’d finally had enough fun and got bored with picking on the human.” You wanted to be angry with him for doing it behind your back, but it had made your work noticeably easier.

Harrow looked across the common room and his tapered ears pulled back suddenly, his multiple earrings flashing in the lamplight. “His first mate’s looking at you. She just pointed at you and beckoned you over.”

With a sigh, you turned your back on Harrow and looked at Ellary. She cocked her head to one side in a silent, expectant question.

“Go,” Harrow said. “I’ll miss the fuck out of you, but —”

“That doesn’t even make sense,” you laughed, already taking your apron off. You hugged him and he hugged you back. “Thank you for taking care of me,” you said. “You could have been like everyone else, but you weren’t, and I’ll always love you for that.”

He squeezed you more tightly. “Don’t forget about me, alright?”

“Never,” you promised, and set your apron on the counter top. “And thank Silas for me too,” you said. “He could have turned me away.”

“Still could have treated you better,” Harrow growled, canines showing.

You shrugged. “Doesn’t matter now though, does it?” you said, and grabbed the small bag you'd packed earlier and stowed beneath the bar. “Take care, alright?”

He nodded. “You too.”

When Ellary saw the bag in your hand, she grinned and stood up. Beside her, the delicate cervitaur rose from the soft cushion they’d been seated on — or, more appropriately, draped across like a slightly wilted lily — and flicked an ear at you.

“You’re coming along, then,” Ellary said, clapping you on the shoulder hard enough to send you staggering. You reeled backwards and found yourself righted by the crab-folk merman, who laughed like an open drain.

“I hope your sea-legs are better than that, friend,” he guffawed, snapping his pincers like percussion instruments.

“Last time I used my sea legs, I was eight,” you said, embarrassed. “I’ll be lucky if I’m not throwing up over the sides before we leave port.”

“Ah, Anneke has a potion or concoction for everything, seasickness included. You’ll be fine. Come on,” he said, and he chivvied you out of the tavern amid a forest of astonished gazes from the patrons.

When you reached the harbour, with the small fishing boats gently bobbing and the larger ships creaking and swaying at their stone quays, you had begun to wonder what you’d got yourself into. Ellary had strode along on huge, near-silent hooves, her scarlet coat flapping open to reveal only the thick fur of her pelt and the vaguest impression of her physique underneath, and Macs, the crab-folk — who apparently never shut up unless Ellary threatened to put him in a cook pot — had talked himself hoarse about their plans for the coming weeks’ sailing, while Phlox, the cervitaur, had tittered at almost every joke Macs made. You snorted softly through your nose when you realised that the most fearsome and mythical pirate crew of the era were actually a bunch of kind-hearted dorks.

“Something funny, human?” Macs asked, glancing sidelong at you while you all headed along the stone dock towards the sleeping figure of the Widow’s Web where she rocked quietly in the darkness.

“You know what?” you said, “I was actually afraid of you lot when you first walked into the tavern.”

“Ha!” he barked, and elbowed you in the ribs so hard you actually tripped over your feet at last and went sprawling sideways onto the stones. Or at least, you would have done, had Ellary not anticipated it and grabbed you at the last minute and hauled you up again with her huge hands.

“For fuck’s sake,” she muttered. “Can’t even take you to collect a new crew member without you causing physical harm to someone, Macs,” she said, and then looked at you. “He’s our master gunner, believe it or not.”

You raised your eyebrows and he clacked his pincers together. “Ain’t no one able to make a shot like me, human,” he grinned. “You can bet your unarmoured hide on it.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

“I’ll show you, soon as we clear the reef tomorrow,” he said, puffing his chest up enough that Phlox giggled again and he looked mightily pleased with himself.

“I live with a bunch of buffoons,” Ellary said dryly and ushered you up the gangplank ahead of her, probably so that if you tripped, she could catch you before you toppled head-first into the salty, sloshing muck of the harbour at high tide.

A flap of dark wings from the rigging above made you look up once you were aboard, and a black-feathered kenku dropped to the deck. In Ellary’s own voice, using what was clearly a carefully-curated selection of her own words, parroted back at her, they said, “About time you got here. Captain’s gonna start spitting webs in a minute.”

Ellary snorted a laugh and turned to introduce you to the kenku. “This is Specs,” she said, gesturing at the avian creature. “Lookout and navigation.”

“Pleasure,” you said, muttering your own name.

In Macs’ voice this time, Specs cackled, “Nice to have new blood aboard.”

“C’mon. I’ll show you where to put your stuff, and we’ll find our illustrious, brooding captain, shall we?” Ellary sighed.

Knocking on the carved, ebony door of the captain’s quarters a short while later, Ellary didn’t wait to be called in, barging her shoulder against the salt-warped wood and stepping in with the familiar ease of a lifelong friend.

Part of you had expected to find webs slung in the corners and the carcasses of dessicated animals dangling from the ceiling, but of course, it was just a simply but comfortably furnished cabin, with a large desk smothered in charts and navigational instruments. The captain himself was standing behind it, his body little more than a dark silhouette against the large window at the rear of the ship, and his silver hair dangling like a drifting ghost in the light breeze that wafted in with Ellary.

The minotaur shoved you into the room and saluted the captain without a word before leaving, closing the door behind her.

“You… You decided to come?” he faltered, sounding unsure of himself for the first time.

You nodded. “I do have a bone to pick with you though, Captain,” you added and he cocked his head.

“Oh?”

“What’s this I hear about you threatening to flay people on my behalf?”

He did have the good grace to look embarrassed about that, and dropped his onyx gaze to the floor. “I apologise,” he said. “I lost my temper with someone in the docks, and did nothing to stop the spread of the rumour once it started.”

You shrugged. “Figured that was how it had gone.”

“Did Ellary show you your quarters?” he asked, as much to change the subject as to find out the answer.

With a nod, you looked around his cabin. “Nicer than a mouldy mattress in the Kipper’s storeroom,” you said. “When do we sail?”

“With the tide,” he said. “I’d almost abandoned hope you were coming with us.”

“Why did you want me, really?” you asked with narrowed eyes.

He sighed and came around the desk to stand in front of you, his prosthetic making a soft ‘pinging’ noise on the wood as the wickedly sharp tip pulled free with each step. You wondered, not for the first time, how he’d lost the limb, but didn’t ask.

“I warmed to you the moment you spoke to me,” he said simply. “You were afraid, but you still came over, and you were… yourself. The others… they all know my — our— reputation, and that changes how they speak to me, how they act around my crew, but you remained yourself, and I admired that.”

Swallowing, you tried not to choke. Other than Harrow, no one had ever made you feel like you were worth more than a passing moment their time, but here was the most successful pirate captain in the known kingdoms, telling you he thought that who you were was valuable to his crew. To his family.

“Look, you must be tired,” he said, clearly reading your emotions and not wanting to overwhelm you. “Why don’t you settle in for the night? We’ll sail within the hour, but you don’t have to do anything. Of course, you’re welcome wherever you like on the ship, but no one will ask anything of you just yet.”

Blinking through your tears you nodded and choked out a vague ‘thank you’ before vanishing below.

It was three days before you felt like you could contribute anything useful, and, just as he’d promised, no one asked anything of you until then.

After three months as part of the crew, you knew you were never going to set foot on land again willingly, and you understood why they just kept sailing from prize to prize. It was bliss. Even in the worst of the weather, you felt safe. Anneke, the weather witch, kept the most violent of storms from touching the ship, and the crew knew their business, tightening and trimming the rigging and the sails til the ship fairly thrummed with the joy of being at sea.

Ellary, you came to learn over the course of many an evening, had a dry sense of humour that left you breathless before guffawing a great laugh that would have made you self-conscious before, and Macs was just as bad. He was a practical joker, but never in a way that made you feel small or embarrassed. You met the other elusive members of the crew as well — those who had not felt confident or comfortable in coming ashore — and you fell slowly in love with all of them in their own way. Minal, an aqrabuamelu with a scorpion’s body and a human’s torso, was the cheery chef of the ship, and Gráinne, a selkie with a voice like singing glass and a burn scar across her face, was the ship’s quartermaster. Others on the crew included another minotaur named Wilf, a huge but incredibly sweet gnoll with a habit of giggling at the most inappropriate of moments, and a twitchy werefox named Keel who still treated you with suspicion, even after three months.

But above all, you found yourself drawn back to the captain. He stood on the deck with the wind in his hair and a smile on his handsome, inhuman face, and he looked truly relaxed. His strange body absorbed the motion of the sea and the rocking of the ship, and he would just as happily spend the morning dangling from his webs amid the rigging, scouting the horizon with Specs, as on the solid deck below, but oddly enough, when he seemed most happy, he was with you.

He taught you to read the charts properly and to map the course of the sun, to plot the stars and read the ocean currents and the patterns of the birds. He introduced you to the colony of orca merfolk who hunted just off the shore and provided information on the movements of the Imperial navy. He ate with the crew on the deck on warm nights, laughing shyly and encouraging them to play their instruments and dance and sing. Keel was a talented violinist, and Harrik, the gnoll, would always watch him with wide, dark, bashful eyes. It was unbearably sweet.

One night, as you leaned back on your hands and tilted your face to the stars while the others continued their revels, you caught a huge sigh from the captain, and glanced up just as he looked away from you and rose to stalk away towards the stern of the ship.

With a little frown, you noticed the way Ellary shook her head too, and when you met her gaze she rolled her red eyes and said under her breath so that no one else would hear above Keel’s lively gig, “Go after him, for pity’s sake.”

You nodded, and slipped away from the others. Climbing the stairs to the deck above the captain’s quarters, where you weren’t really supposed to be, you found him staring out over the ship’s wake, leaning his forearms on the taffrail and resting his great spider body on the boards of the ship’s deck. He looked small and sad and deflated in a way you’d never known, and it sent a frisson of worry through you.

“Captain?” you asked.

He startled a little despite the noise your boots had made on the stairs, and he twitched around to look at you. His breath caught audibly in the moonlight and you watched him swallow. “Yes?”

“Are you alright, Captain?”

His large eyes turned especially glassy for a second and he looked away. “Yes,” he lied.

“Captain, you —”

“It’s Ruven.”

“What?”

“My name. It’s Ruven.”

“Oh,” you breathed, wondering how you’d gone so long without learning it. Then again, everyone called him ‘captain’ with the same affection they called you ‘human’. “Can I join you, Ruven?”

Slowly, and with an unbearable sadness in his eyes, he looked back over his shoulder at you. He was wearing only an undyed linen shirt, and it flapped loosely around his lean torso in the breeze. It made you want to touch, to draw it up to expose the musculature and chitinous plating underneath, to explore his body with your hands. “Yes,” he said quietly.

You approached on his right side and watched as he drew his long legs in a little closer to his body, as if to welcome you further into his space. You leaned your weight carefully against his steel prosthetic, knowing it could take it, and he let out a shaky breath.

He towered over you but you’d never felt more at ease with someone, and he nestled a little further down to accommodate your height. You smiled at him. “Thank you, Ruven,” you said, trying out his name again and enjoying the sound of it on your tongue.

“For what?”

You shrugged and stared out at the dark sea, a little overwhelmed. Little flashes of phosphorescence danced on the ship’s wake, like a heartbeat in the depths. “For giving me a family again,” you said with a glance back at the crew who were capering about on the deck below. “For making me feel loved.”

“You are loved,” he said without hesitation. He exhaled your name and leaned down to take your fingers in his dark grey hands. “You are loved,” he said again with sincerity burning in his black eyes. “Never doubt that.”

You smiled up at him, and gently tugged one hand free of his, then reached up to cup his sharp face in your palm. “I don’t. Not now.” You ran the pad of your thumb along his right mandible and he shuddered bodily, eyes rolling shut with a rasping breath. “You’re so beautiful,” you whispered.

A second or two later, a large, slow tear rolled from one eye, down his cheek to splash onto the deck between you.

“Ruven?”

“No one has ever said that to me,” he croaked, nudging his cheek further into your palm without opening his eyes again. “Terrible, monstrous, ruthless… but never beautiful.”

“Always beautiful,” you said, and he picked you up.

He held you to his chest, supported by the knees of his forelegs, and hugged you. His hands began to wander and you gasped, arching into his touch.

“Take me below,” you whispered and he smiled. “I’m yours.”

He didn’t linger, scuttling silently down the gangway to his cabin and closing the door behind him.

He laid you down on his large, soft bed and took you apart with slow kisses and lingering touches until you were moaning his name and shaking with a pleasure you never dared dream would be yours.

“Come over me,” you gasped as he kissed you where you were most sensitive, enjoying the taste and feel of you. “Please, I need —”

“Don’t encourage me,” he laughed. “I’m so close, and I’m making such a mess…”

You looked up at that and saw that he was dripping clear fluid from his abdomen onto the floor beside the bed.

“I’ve never made such a mess,” he laughed again.

“Please…”

He shifted his legs, looming over you again, and he rubbed his sensitive core over your legs, enjoying the slide of your bodies together at last. In three strokes, he came undone and cried out, arching his human spine to bring his spider’s body close to you, and he came with a yell in a wave over your lower body, his legs twitching and his body convulsing.

When he was utterly spent, he lay down beside you on his back and you curled up next to his cool, human torso, tracing the lines of chitin plating where his abdomen blended into the soft, moonlight fur of his spider’s body. He twitched occasionally but otherwise lay still and stared at you with his black eyes.

“I love you,” he said, apropos nothing.

You kissed him and let his mandibles rake tenderly over your cheeks while he kissed you back. “I love you too, Captain,” you smiled and he groaned into the kiss. “I love you too.”

__

Thanks for reading this story, and I hope you’ll consider reblogging it (as well as leaving a like) if you enjoyed it, as that will help others find it.

Take care, and I hope you have a lovely day/night wherever you are, and whenever you read this.

Masterlist | Ko-fi (tip jar)

[checkoutmybookshelf]

You Have My Attention: New Jedi Order First Lines

Ok, so Vector Prime wasn't my first Star Wars EU book; that would have been at least semi logical and honestly logic and hinged-ness is not how I would characterize either my experience with the Star Wars fandom, the EU, or just Star Wars in general. We have Anakin Skywalker, hinged is not the vibe. That said, Vector Prime was my fourth Star Wars book, and despite some flaws and peaks and valleys in quality, the New Jedi Order holds a very nostalgic place in my heart. Let's see how the authors of the New Jedi Order books catch readers.

It was too peaceful out here, surrounded by the vacuum of space and with only the continual hum of the twin ion drives breaking the silence.

-- R. A. Salvatore, Vector Prime

Standing there, on the bridge of his Nebulon-B frigate, the pirate Urias Xhaxin clasped his cybernetic left hand to the small of his back with his right hand. He stared straight ahead at the tunnel of light into which his ship, the Free Lance, flew.

-- Michael A. Stackpole, Dark Tide I: Onslaught

Shedao Shai stood in his chamber, deep within the living ship Legacy of Torment. Tall and lean, long-limbed with hooks and barbs at wrist, elbow, knee, and heel, the Yuuzhan Vong warrior had pulled himself up to his full height and held his open hands out away from his sides.

-- Michael A. Stackpole, Dark Tide II: Ruin

If the system's primary was distressed by the events that had transpired on and about the fourth closest of its brood, it betrayed noting to the naked eye. Saturating the local space with golden radiance, the star was as unperturbed now as it was before the battle had begun.

-- James Luceno, Agents of Chaos I: Hero's Trial

It was morning in Gyndine's capital city, though that fact was scarcely evident to anyone on the surface. The rising sun, when glimpsed at all, was a blanched disk behind roiling smoke belched from flaming forests and buildings.

-- James Luceno, Agents of Chaos II: Jedi Eclipse

Lieutenant Jaina Solo rolled her x-wing fighter up on its port S-foil and shoved her throttle forward. A seed-shaped Yuuzhan Vong coralskipper had been harrying her wingmate.

-- Kathy Tyers, Balance Point

Outside the medcenter viewport, a ragged crescent of white twinkles known as the Drall's Hat drooped across the violet sky, its lower tip slashing through the Ronto to touch a red star named the Eye of the Pirate. The constellations above Corellia had not changed since Han Solo was a child, when he had spent his nights contemplating the galactic depths and dreaming of life as a starship captain.

-- Troy Denning, "Recovery"

Dorsk 82 ducked behind the stone steps of the quay, just in time to dodge a blaster bolt from across the water. "Hurry on board my ship," he told his charges. "They've found us again."

-- Greg Keyes, Edge of Victory I: Conquest

Blood, drifting in starlight. That was the first thing Jacen Solo saw when he opened his eyes. It had beaded into what looked, in the dim, like polished black pearls reflecting the ancient starlight filtering through the transparisteel a meter or so away.

-- Greg Keyes, Edge of Victory II: Rebirth

The dark sliver of a distant starliner crept into view, a blue needle of ion efflux pushing it across the immense sweep of a brilliant orange sun. Like a million such suns in the Core region alone, this one lacked any world with a civilization or even a sapient species, and it was too inconsequential for any name except an obsolete Imperial survey number. With so much emptiness, so many planets untouched, it seemed to Jaina Solo that there should have been no need for fighting, that there should have been room for all.

-- Troy Denning, Star by Star

A sunrise corona limned one edge of the planet Myrkr, setting its vast northern forests alight with a verdant glow. Viewed from space, the planet appeared as lush and green as Yuuzhan'tat, the long-lost homeworld of Yuuzhan Vong legend.

-- Elaine Cunningham, Dark Journey

"A god cannot die," Charat Kraal said. "Therefore it can have no fear of death. So who is braver, a god or a mortal?"

--Aaron Allston, Enemy Lines I: Rebel Dream

Jaina Solo banked her X-wing starfighter into as tight a turn as she could endure. The g-forces of her maneuver crushed her into her seat, but she called upon the force to protect her, to keep her centimeters away from the edge of blackout.

-- Aaron Allston, Enemy Lines II: Rebel Stand

Outside the universe, there is nothing. This nothing is called hyperspace. A tiny bubble of existence hangs in the nothing. This bubble is called a ship.

-- Matthew Stover, Traitor

As she sat in the chair that was hers by right of death, she raised her eyes to the cold faraway stars. Checklists buzzed distantly in her mind and her hands moved over the controls, but her thoughts flew elsewhere, amid the chill infinitude. Searching...

-- Walter Jon Williams, Destiny's Way

Saba Sebatyne knew the moment she emerged from hyperspace that Barab I was burning. Where the planet normally displayed a cloudy, gray face lit the glow of its primary, a sullen red dwarf, her infrared sensitive eyes now saw a fiery inferno.

-- Sean Williams and Shane Dix, Force Heretic I: Remnant

The man who was no longer a man stood before an alien who was not what it seemed. "Everything is in place," the man said.

--Sean Williams and Shane Dix, Force Heretic II: Refugee

Neither moved; neither spoke. They stared unflinchingly into each other's eyes. Surrounding her, hidden by shadows, Tahiri could sense an alien landscape.

-- Sean Williams and Shane Dix, Force Heretic III: Reunion

Three kilometers beneath the surface of Yuuzhan'tar--the world once known as Courscant--the sound of chanting drifted up a shaft nearly as wide as it was deep, the melancholy strains yearning toward the few distant starts that could be seen from the bottom. In the pale blue light of lumen reeds, the faces of the chanters appeared ravaged, their bodies misshapen.

-- Greg Keyes, The Final Prophecy

Selvaris, faintly green against a sweep of white-hot stars, and with only one tiny moon for companionship, looked like the loneliest of planets. Almost five years into a war that had seen the annihilation of peaceful worlds, the disruption of major hyperlanes, the fall and occupation of Coruscant itself, that fact that such a backwater place could rise to sudden significance was perhaps the clearest measure of the frightful shadow the Yuuzhan Vong had cast across the galaxy.

-- James Luceno, The Unifying Force

[lookingforhappy]

ill admit ive been swayed on the irish five front. its fine. but i think im still gonna make welsh five my entire personality... idk y i just like the idea of wales better than ireland (no offence ireland)

so anyway heres the kinda town i liked the idea of five coming from (since his newspaper said coastal these are all coastal)

1.

Tenby

2.

Aberystwyth

3.

New Quay

4.

Conwy

and then for u irish five stans i picked out a few coastal towns for ur irish five needs bc honestly fuck dublin y does everything have to be a capital city istg

1.

Cobh

2.

Clifden

3.

Westport

4.

Dingle

idk i just wanted a bunch of easy ref photos but u can have this too if u want

[matoitech]

i. may have asked this before (if i did i absolutely forgot) BUT do you have voiceclaims for any of your ocs' normal and/or singing voices ??

you havent i dont think!! it is a good question and one i think about a lot.. a difficult one for me to answer with 'they DEFINITELY sound like this' bcuz my brain has a hard time attaching itself to particular voices for my characters, and wanting them to have trans va's etc. so these r mostly like approximations or ideas!

im not including every oc here just like, major ones for me, or ones who i have an idea of what their voices sound like better

blue: so what i know for him he has a masculine voice, something that can get screamy, but hes technically skilled enough as a vocalist to pull off a ballad no problem (this is not uncommon for rock vocalists). one thing i want from him is sounding similar between talking or singing, you can tell its the same guy. ive always had trouble finding a fitting voice for him.. i associate nightlife with him in some ways i think bcuz hansel romero has a very clear voice, and i could see smth like a foreign affair being.. adjacent-ish for him (u can see how much i struggle to find smth truly fitting for him). neither of these bands rly play the exact kinda rock music i think he sings tho so yknow, grain of salt here. kid me thought he sounded like dane cook. for better or for worse i cant rly like.. disagree with that lol. i also used 2 think he should have a grungier voice but thats kinda changed w time lol he looks more like he could pass as a member of a boy band nowadays

edit: coming back later on mobile without an ability to link songs to also throw magnolia park into the blue ring bcuz they kinda have a modern nu metal growl going on i like and think is very bluey

edit 2: bmth adjacent or smth for blue maybe actually sorry. i fight between more grunge and more pop punk esque

elle: i havent successfully found anyone who really fits the vibes i want from her yet. she has a gruff low voice, like a smoker or something, her voice breaks a lot when she sings. none of these musicians rly match what i want from her but i could see them working in other ways: stand atlantic, nxdia, or tolü makay. all these ppl have the wrong accents for her i just realized LOL. imagine all that but southern

edit: coming back to elle (on mobile again so cant link) to suggest maybe ada rook or something for her. i suggested that for roxy too but yk <3

malani: she sounds like foxcult

dakota: keshi maybe.. i have always been at a loss with them lol

kaisa: something like quay dash or trapselyna maybe

edit: i don’t know how i forgot this but i literally already thought she sounded like blessing jolie LOL

angel: im actually very solid on the vibe and sound of her voice: something like chase icon, scene queen, or nattalie blake

pose: ayesha erotica. or whichever one of the superfruit guys sang guy.exe. theres no in between

gem: maybe arca

griff: jxdn or isaac dunbar probably

nasir: plvtinum i think. i wasnt gonna include him but it just felt too fitting.. i also thought about tobre for him

cain: oh i know this one for sure. alaska thunderfuck

casimir: alexsucks or binki

lucas: jelani aryeh

angus: duckwrth probably

cole: i dont think any of my other characters sound like streamers (i barely know any) except cole, the streamer, who sounds like astralspiff LOL very 'some guy'

izzy: he probably sounds like the sleeping with sirens guy tbh. or wolf & bear or something

level: honestly probably kesha

roxy: something rough industrial/noisecore-ish, maybe ada rook or backxwash

[mhalachai]

more thoughts on vacation planning

thanks to everyone for your vacation suggestions! I have some plans now… lots to do :D

I thought I'd share the suggestions here compiled for your reading pleasure - might be some ideas in here if you're looking for a bit of a break this summer (amid the heat, forest fires, and other climate disasters):

First, some ideas if you're local to the Vancouver area (or planning on a visit)

Vancouver

Day trip! If you want a quick ferry ride, try Bowen Island or Salt Spring Island, or if you want to stay on the mainland, try Sasamat Lake

Maple Ridge tree walk or zip line (or axe-throwing!)

White Rock beach and pier (bonus - taking a double-decker bus from Vancouver down)

Lonsdale Quay (featuring the ever-popular ride on the seabus)

Honey's Donuts in Deep Cove

Granville Island before 12pm on a weekday

Fireworks! But make friends with someone who lives in the West End who will put you up

Lynn Valley suspension bridge (and the local trails – very nice, very free) (and honestly, you can skip the Capilano Suspension Bridge theme park - it's super expensive and not really worth it)

Try the new Michelin star restaurants in Vancouver and then go to the other restaurants you know that are better and enjoy those too

Lastly, if you want some more organized nature, try the Van Dusen Botanical Garden

Now, onto general suggestions!

Self-care

Sleep for a day or three

Do all the hard stuff that a 9-5 gets in the way of - go to the bank, book that eye exam, etc.

go get that warning light in your car looked at, i mean it mhal

Do as much gentle housecleaning as interests you

Spa experience - massage, mani-pedi, other spa things

Bubble bath/hair mask/other home spa pieces

Do a thing

local zoo or aquarium

Art galleries, science centres, and museums

Botanical gardens

Events hosted your local library

Local events/fairs

Trip around to the vintage/antique/flea shops

Check out local second-hand record stores and/or bookstores

Do a thing (+ Effort)

Touch grass/sand/water/trees/flowers. Bring a book and read in nature

Hiking

local walking tours

Kite flying

Activities(tm) - such as paddle board, horseback riding class, go-carting and so on

Maker space - pottery or print making or woodwork

Eating

Every restaurant you haven't tried but want to

Local breweries/wineries

Hit up the local city page on reddit and see if there are any restaurant rec places - they can be hit or miss but sometimes there are some gems.

And this one from @krchov is so cool I'll paste it here in its entirely:

Dedicate time to making a map of the food carts/cheese shops/etc in a specific area of your city. Compare the quality of similar wares in each one. Collect data. In the end you will have a cool map/dataset, new favorite food place and on your wandering you will probably happen upon some before unknown interesting places.

happy vacationing!

[redbirdandbluebird23]

So.... I signed up just to talk to you about your UK visit recs hahaha. Don't know if I'm even messaging you properly. This is Winterine from ao3, but annoyingly someone took that name here and I cbb going for variants when I am pretty sure I was the original Winterine lol. But yes, realistically, I'm planning to head to the UK for a big solo walk/cycle tour or historical/interesting/spooky/beautiful/natural places maybe 2025 or 2026 after I finish uni, I'm thinking around April-May ish. Keen to hear what you think I should see/do, or if I should go at a different time of year etc.

I honestly think April/May is the best time to visit because it's out of the main tourist season and the weather is starting to get better. Don't get me wrong, it will rain, but it won't be as cold and miserable, or as hot and miserable 😂.

I definitely got carried away listing places, but I figured if I listed everything and why, you'd be able to pick and choose what sounds best to you

Scotland:

- Inverness and Loch Ness: I was obsessed with the Loch Ness monster as a kid which is one of the main reasons I visited, but Inverness is also a really beautiful town and there's a lot of walks/hikes nearby 

- Glen Coe, Fort William, Ben Nevis, and Glenfinnan viaduct: we did all these in the same day, but we were driving and didnt actually walk up Ben Nevis. Glen Coe is a place that looks as close to lord of the rings as you can get outside of New Zealand, there's plenty of hikes/bike routes through it. Fort William is a little town directly at the bottom of Ben Nevis, so it's a good place to see/climb the mountain, and there's also hikes/bike routes. The Glenfinnan viaduct is most famous from Harry Potter, but it's also a really pretty place full stop.

- Oban and the Isle of Mull: Oban is a historic seaside town that's famous for it's whiskey distillery (which I recommend the tasting at) and seafood. There's a ferry that runs several times a day to the Isle of Mull, which has plenty of great places to visit, lots of hikes/bike routes.

- Edinburgh: it's honestly one of my favourite cities and looks exactly like it does in pictures. There's a lot of history and literary influence, and I highly recommend Armchair Books, which is a little second hand book shop. The castle is also worth visiting.

Wales:

-Snowdonia and Mount Snowdon: absolutely loads of hikes/bike routes, but if you don't want to walk up Snowdon, there's a little railway that I highly recommend. Because Snowdon used to be under the sea, it's also possible to find marine invertebrate fossils at the top.

- Llandudno: most famous as where Alice in Wonderland was written/inspired. But also a great little seaside town

- New Quay: lovely little coastal town with loads of walks/bike routes around it

-St David's: the UK's smallest city, very pretty and lots of hikes/bike rides around

-Portmeirion: this is, hands down, one of the strangest places I've ever been. It's basically a fake town that was used as a set for the TV show The Prisoner, but it's now a tourist attraction. I can't really describe what it's like, just very fantastical and strange, it even has a pet cemetery

England:

(The Peak District and London I've done as separate lists at the bottom due to all of the places I recommend in them)

-The Lake District: absolutely loads of walks/hikes/bike routes. Very picturesque and there's a lot to do and see. It's also where Beatrix Potter wrote all of her books so there's a lot of Peter Rabbit related stuff around.

-Bamburgh Castle and Lindisfarne: there's lots of hikes/bike routes through Northumberland, but I think Bamburgh Castle is worth a visit, it's been used in a lot of films. Lindisfarne is an island that used to be home to monks, they brew their own mead and its the first place the vikings landed in Britain.

-Scarborough, Whitby, and Robin Hoods Bay: these places encompass my childhood because we used to go on caravan holidays with my granddad every year. This whole stretch of coast is very good for walks/bike routes. Scarborough is a very stereotypical English seaside town with amusements and 2p machines, but Anne Brontë is buried there and it actually has a lot of history. Whitby is one of my favourite places on earth, not only because of its ties to Bram Stoker, Dracula and goths, but it's also very historic and the abbey is incredible. The kippers and fish and chips at the Magpie Cafe are a must. Robin Hoods Bay is a tiny little village that it really picturesque and has a history of smugglers.

-York: very historic, very old English. There's loads of tea rooms, interesting shops, second hand book shops and there's even a shop where you can buy your own little York ghost friend.

- Manchester, Leeds, and Sheffield: lumping these three together, and no one can get mad as me for it because I'm originally from one of them 😂. All of these cities have changed a lot from when I was a kid and all now have thriving food and drink scenes. But they're also all historic centres of industry. Manchester used to be a textile capital of the world, Leeds is known for it's engineering and canals, and Sheffield was vital to the war effort due to it's steel production. Depending on what interests you, they're all worth a look.

-Birmingham: not just for peaky blinders! Birmingham actually has more canals than Venice and a lot of industrial history. It's also got a thriving food and drink scenes and a lot of shopping locations.

-Cambridge: I've only been once, when I toured the uni when I was applying at 17, but it's very picturesque and has a lot of history. Ngl, some of the people can be quite snobbish and very stereotypical posh English.

-Winchester: old historic town, famous for it's Cathedral but also as where Jane Austen lived and died. There's a lot of literary influence and a lot of amazing book shops.

-Weston-super-Mare, Wells and Glastonbury: Weston-super-Mare is another old, typical English seaside town like Scarborough, but it has an absolutely massive beach so people flock to it in summer. Wells is a little town, most well known for the cathedral and the location Hot Fuzz was set and shot in. It's definitely worth a visit. Glastonbury outside of the festival season is a lovely place with lots of hikes/bike routes and a lot of history. 

-Plymouth and Cornwall: again, only been once due to how far it is from home, but I'm actually going again this week for my mum's birthday. Plymouth has a lot of naval history and I'm planning on going to the National Marine Aquarium Thursday which is supposed to be amazing. The only place in Cornwall I've been is Looe, but I highly recommend it as it's so pretty.

-Jurassic Coast: including Weymouth, Lulworth and Durdle Door in this. All very picturesque and where the bulk of UK fossils are found. There's absolutely loads of hikes/bike paths along this coast

-Bournemouth, Poole and Christchurch: Bournemouth is mainly known for it's huge beach, Poole is where the RLNI headquarters are and where Lush was founded, and Christchurch is just very picturesque. 

-Portsmouth: where the UK navy is based. Very historic and very flat for walking/biking. Where D-Day was launched from and the D-Day museum is worth a visit. Was also home to Charles Dickens, Arthur Conan Doyle and Rudyard Kipling. Has a good independent book shop called pigeon books.

The Peak District:

(Growing up so close to it, I have a lot of recommendations, hence the separate category 😂)

(There are hikes/bike trails between most of these places, with apps/guides online for the most popular routes)

-Bakewell: very picturesque, old English town. But obviously you have to try the tart! I recommend trying both the tart and the pudding

-Castleton: another picturesque little town, but it's also full of caves you can go down, one of which was used for the gringotts scenes in Harry Potter. Lots of good pubs for a pint as well.

-Cavedale: very lord of the rings looking picturesque walk, but it's personally one of my favourites because it's where Wesley rolls down the hill while yelling "as you wish!" in the Princess Bride

-Hathersage: lots of great pubs, cafes and restaurants

-Scrivener's books and bookbinding: multi-leveled second hand bookshop in Buxton.

-Chatsworth House: old manor house with huge grounds. The house and gardens are worth visiting to walk around. JFK's sister is buried across the road in the little village of Edensor. But I honestly love visiting because it's used as Pemberly in the 2005 Pride and Prejudice.

-Lady Bower Reservoir: on the route of a lot of hikes, it's where the Dambusters practiced dropping the bouncing bombs during the war

-Eyam: the first place to social distance and lockdown during the Black Death, lots of history there.

-Padley Gorge: also looks like something out of lord of the rings

London:

Museums: most museums in London are free, but you can book tickets online and not have to queue. 

-The natural history museum (my all time favourite museum, especially as a biologist)

-The science museum (right next to NHM)

 -V&A (across the road from NHM and SM, mainly art and design.

-The British museum (great if you were an ancient Greek or Egypt nerd as a kid (or if you still are)) 

-The Royal Naval College and National Maritime Museum (in Greenwich and where the second Thor was filmed)

-The Tower of London (where the crown jewels are held, they are wonky, it pissed me off 😂)

Bookshops: 

-Hatchards (oldest bookshop in the UK, five floors of books).

-Waterstones Piccadilly (just down the street from Hatchards, absolutely massive)

-Gays the Word (oldest LGBT bookshop in the UK, setting of the film Pride)

-Daunts Books (technically a travel bookstore, but it has other stuff as well. One of the prettiest book shops I've ever been to)

-Lutyens and Rubinstein (very pretty, had a bit of everything(

-Books for cooks (is only a cookbook shop, but it's honestly worth going for the experience because it's also a cafe that cooks from a different cookbook each month)

-The Nottinghill Bookshop (a bit of everything)

-Word on the Water (bookshop on a barge)

Markets:

-Borough Market (one of my absolute favourite places on earth, great for lunch or to pick up snacks)

-Camden Market (alternative fashion, art, music and good food)

-Eatly (near Liverpool Street station, it's an Italian market hall, also good for lunch/snacks)

-Spitlefields (food as well as shops, near eatly)

-Portobello Market (Nottinghill, only on certain days so make sure to check before going)

-Covent Garden (more high end shops, but it's nice to walk around)

Shops:

-Harrods (just worth going to look at the price tags and laugh 😂)

-Fortnum and Mason (just down from Hatchards, expensive food shop, but it's nice to look around in)

-Hamleys (huge toy shop, I haven't been in a while, but it used to be amazing as a kid)

Places that I just think are worth visiting:

-Russel square and Cafe Tropea, and Bloomsbury

-Hyde Park

-Walk down Knightsbridge just to see all the fancy cars

-The Wellcome Collective (cosmetic museum, but it has a reading room where it's free to sit and read)

-The Paddington statue in Paddington station

-You can walk up to Camden Market from London St Pancreas/Kings Cross Station via the regent's canal

I've sadly never been to Ireland, but I hope these are useful and you have a really good trip!!!

[photosbyjabo]

Travelling west to the country of Wales

My partner and I usually celebrate special occasions by travelling. The end of June marks my birthday and we decided to travel all the way to the capital city of Wales, Cardiff.

We arrived mid-day and as I'm writing this down in 2024, I'm trying to remember if we did have an itinerary for our two and a half days that we were there for but I really couldn't. It being my birthday, we obviously started with a nice café for brunch. I was definitely very much pleased with the one we found — the Coffee Barker.

It's a charming café by day and then a buzzing bar at night. We already spent most of our morning there and I admittedly have taken way too many photos. A guilty pleasure, indeed. I would come back here every day if I could, honestly.

After some good few hours, we decided to start walking. I personally believe that a good city must be explored by simply strolling around its streets.

I'd like to say that I am more of a traveller rather than a tourist but I'd be lying if I claim it so. One of the things that truly interest me apart from getting to see new places and admiring the architecture is knowing a bit of its history. Before we went on this trip, I regrettably didn't know that Wales had another language completely different from England.

Later that day we went to see the Cardiff Castle. There were a lot of fascinating details to see and learn inside the castle but I was really drawn to the Arab Room. Truly a masterpiece.

Day two: We took the bus to go to Cardiff Bay. Not very different from the London buses, although less busy definitely. Mainly, we strolled around the area and had our coffee at the Mermaid Quay. You can see the Pierhead here, the Wales Millenium Centre, and lots of places to eat. But this day we decided to go for a little boat tour. Highly recommended especially with the glorious sun out. How I wish I could've swam too.

Then, we took the bus to go back to the city centre and we ended up walking along the National Museum of Cardiff. Somehow, we weren't able to go in. We decided to have lunch first instead but didn't manage to go back anymore. Thereafter, we went for another walk to go to the Bute Park and spent most of our afternoon lounging about and taking a nap whilst laying down on the grass. Perfect kind of weather to do so.

Day three: Our last day at this city. Definitely too quick. We had another late start to our day, had brunch al fresco in a nice café just beside the Wyndham Arcade. We were so happy the sun stayed for the entire three days that we were here. Maybe next time we could go outside the city. People have recommended the beaches and to go on hiking too.

All photos taken with an iPhone (June, 2019).

[i-mybrunettelady]

as promised: ⏳ ⏳ for liv and ⏳ for ren, mayhaps? :D @kerra-and-company

tall kids *nods*

"Me? I don't have a lot of things to tell, honestly. I'm just a humble blacksmith for the most part. It might be the residue Legions in me, but I don't see anything special worth talking about. El says otherwise, but it's hard to resist the line of thinking sometimes.

Then again, not many people desert the Legions. And keep the name they had under them. (he taps a claw against his chin.) Name... I do think we charr, Legion charr I mean, have an interesting naming customs. I've never met another Stormbreath, even though there are dozens of Storm warbands out there.

I was almost Stormheart. My magic was in the heart of the legion's name and bond and I was its heart in a way. I rejected it, though. Out of humility. They already named themselves after my air magic. They didn't need to put the bigger target on my back. (he straightens his shoulders; they crack.) It wasn't easy, being an elementalist in the Legions. An elementalist who's half-Flame. How my dam, a full on ex-Flame, does it is something I wonder about, but I'm not Iron anymore and she doesn't talk to me.

So I chose Stormbreath. El says it has power. He says it's amazing that I can stop someone's airflow by will. I don't think it's that amazing, while not... usual by any means. It could kill a man. I don't trust my own storms. A Stormbreath who doesn't trust his own storms.

I kept it as a way of shaming myself for leaving at first. Now, it's a reminder of what I must never do to another being unless really fucking pressed. It feels nice, though. Knowing that you can."

"Again? Don't you people have enough on me? I'm also really not a good storyteller.

But non-classified information is okay to be shared, I suppose. Nosy... I'm absolutely aware how this comes across as. I'm hypocritical, not stupid. (she taps a nail against the nearest surface.) I suppose I'm not used to people knowing things about me. Haven't been undercover for years now.

One must adapt and one must overcome.

I have an atrociously foreign accent when speaking Elonian. My girlfriend tried her best to remedy that, but it's of no use. I will forever sound like I'm from elsewhere. And I am. From Triskell Quay, Kingdom of Kryta. Akila finds it endlessly amusing, of course.

Don't tell her, but her Krytan's adorably accented as well.

[artificialgrievand]

Not Quite Nothingness

It was sort of impossible to miss, all of the hectic energy buzzing throughout the resort. Serket was in one of the worst moods on record and it didn’t seem to be improving any degree over the past few days. People were disappearing, seemingly into nothingness.

Only, it wasn’t Nothing.

And that was sort of the problem.

There was a detectable malice in the mists that swirled around the building, even as it crept into the cracks and few unpatched holes in the foundations of the resort. Sure, void entities such as the Hounds could be kept at bay with such measures, but whatever this was wasn’t the Void. Somehow, someway, it was a level of obfuscation that was somehow a step below the void, but oddly in doing so completely curtailing and overwriting any powers such powers over Nothing might provide.

@rpwithroxy’s current residing Avatar would have noticed not having any way to contact or even draw strength from her true self. Some other Dark Power was flexing control over this space, and it had already claimed many of the residents. Of course, anyone who knew R’xy would know that any form of challenge could not be taken unmet. Though this was a curious case as any form of sentience couldn’t really be gleaned from this foe. It was simply a force.

Eventually, with a crash from a rock outside of the window followed by the hollow cackling of a skeletal figure clinging to the outside of the cabin, that force would find its way into the room, and once there, it quickly went to work. Soon it was hard to make out anything, and eventually it would be clear to this Avatar that she too had been caught up in everything.

Honestly the this fog it went about things was a bit crude. No surgical precision, no clear goals. It was like a bull in a China shop, and R’xy just happened to be the target this time.

However soon enough these mists would disperse, quickly, as if fearing the Avatar even still. As one might surmise however, it was not the resort that surrounded R’xy now. Instead, she seemed to have been placed in some sort of graveyard? Each lot with a strange glowing orb hovering over it. With a bit more looking around, there seemed to be an ocean nearby, with deep and sorrowful moaning winds and a gloom that made it hard to appreciate the scenic ocean view.

Curiously however, many trails and wisps of mist still seemed to linger in the air, and in fact mist could be seen in the distance, not very far at all. It was less like R’xy was dropped in some new land, and instead just a piece of it. Perhaps a world already in the process of being consumed?

Not consumed enough to rely on much Voidy powers, it seemed. A cursory test of capabilities would reveal that much. She was much weaker here than most other realities. If only by proxy of being cut off from so much of what embodied here.

But, not everything.

While the grave was curious, some signage nearby would at least give a hint as to a location.

“ Here lay the lost souls of Anthodite Quay

May they rest, eternally and without stir”

Maybe a little ominous. Still! A location! There might be something to work with there, at least. Even as the mists toiled and danced through the skies, it couldn’t hide everything from R’xy. It made the mistake of bringing her at all, and that was enough to give R’xy all she needed.

[best-reviews-usa]

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[umichenginabroad]

Abhi in Paris

Week 3: Belgian Delights to Backpacking Dreams

Week three of my study abroad adventure in France has been nothing short of exhilarating. Over the weekend, I decided to venture beyond the borders of France and explore the charming city of Brussels. A quick trip to Quai de Bercy (the Paris City Centre Bus Station) and a four hour bus ride later, I was saying hello to Brussels! The journey began with iconic sights that left me in awe – from the Grand Place to the Atomium, each corner of the city seemed to tell a story of its own. However, what truly stole my heart were the delectable Belgian waffles and the exquisite Belgian beer that added a flavorful touch to my weekend escapade. My Belgian Waffle was covered in Whipped Cream and White Chocolate sauce and let me tell you, this might have been the sweetest & creamiest waffle I've ever eaten.

Returning to my studies on Monday was a stark contrast to the leisurely weekend, as I delved into classes and even faced my first homework assignment. I had to complete some Fourier Transform work in MatLab, and honestly, so far I've really enjoyed the French education systems. It's characterized by a longer semester allowing for a relaxed pace with less or no homework and more breaks in between. The academic challenges were complemented by a newfound passion – rowing. ENSEA, the school I am attending, offers a rowing club, and I decided to give it a try. I've rowed extensively in high school, but lost touch since then. The rhythmic motions of rowing against the serene backdrop of the French countryside provided a refreshing break from the intellectual pursuits.

As the week progressed, I found a balance between academia and recreation, allowing myself to fully immerse in the rich experiences that France has to offer. Thursday marked the beginning of my preparations for the upcoming break from school, where I'll be embarking on a 20-day backpacking journey through Spain and Portugal. The anticipation of exploring new cultures, landscapes, and cuisines fueled my excitement.

The weekend brought another round of adventures as I visited the enchanting Montmartre with my girlfriend Sneha from Michigan, who's also abroad in Paris studying at HEC Paris. The panoramic views of the city at sunset, the Wall of Love adorned with "I love you" declarations in countless languages, and the warming sensation of Vin Chaud (hot wine) made this day an unforgettable chapter of my journey. Each step I took seemed to lead me to a new discovery, a hidden gem waiting to be explored. The evening ended with a beautiful view of the sunset over Paris atop Montmarte with Sneha.

Also, super exciting--EVERYONE in Paris where's overcoats and as an early birthday gift, Sneha got me an amazing Parisian overcoat!

Sunday was dedicated to art and history at the Louvre. Standing before the iconic Mona Lisa, I couldn't help but feel a profound connection to the artistic legacy that has shaped the world. The Louvre itself, with its vast collection of masterpieces, offered a glimpse into the cultural tapestry of humanity.

Looking ahead, Thursday of the next week signals the beginning of my much-anticipated break from school. With a backpack on my shoulders and a spirit of adventure in my heart, I am set to explore the wonders of Spain and Portugal. The journey will include a few days of relaxation on the beaches of Tenerife, particularly Playa de Las Americas. As I packed my bags over the weekend, excitement and anticipation filled the air, knowing that new experiences and friendships await me on this backpacking odyssey.

In the midst of academia, rowing, and weekend explorations, my study abroad adventure in France continues to unfold with surprises and discoveries at every turn. Stay tuned for more tales from the road as I embark on the backpacking journey of a lifetime!

À bientôt,

Abhi Athreya

University of Michigan, Aerospace Engineering 2025

ENSEA in Cergy, France

[andrew-mason]

“Do my eyes deceive me, or is that Andrew Mason lurking around my display on ancient Elven artefacts?” Andrew paused, a hand hovering over an intricately-crafted silver tiara perched on a faceless bust. Straightening his posture, he turned and smiled warmly to the tall, willowy man. 

“Hey, Mads. Long time no—” 

“Put them back, Andrew,” Mads intoned. 

“Put what back?” Andrew replied, brows knit in innocent confusion. Mads gave a weary sigh. 

“The earrings and the pocketwatch in your vest, the commemorative coronation spoon in your shoe, the Zandalari fertility bracelet in your pants, and the raw sapphire you shoved down your shirt,” he replied as he held out a hand. Dutifully, Andrew removed the items from their hiding places and dropped them into the other man’s outstretched palm. 

“That’s all I got,” he said earnestly as Mads gave him an appraising look down the length of his thin nose. 

“Is it? I think I would also like back the emerald ring you’re hiding under your thieving little tongue,” he added. His nose wrinkled as Andrew spat out a ring onto the top of the small pile of goods. “You’re an animal, you know.” 

Andrew shoved his hands into his empty pockets and shrugged lightly. “I know.” 

Mads swept around him and deposited the items into a drawer behind the counter, locked it with a tap of his wand, and turned to face Andrew once more as he used a handkerchief to wipe spittle from his palm. 

“I assume you’re here on business, and not simply to rob an honest shopkeeper of his hard-earned goods?” A snort answered him first. 

“I'm not sure anything in here was acquired honestly, Mads. But yeah— I’m here on business.” 

“And that business is…?” 

“Forgery. I’m looking to pick up some more work— art, documents, whatever you got.” 

Mads arched an eyebrow. “Your cut from the work you did on the Silvermoon job wasn’t enough? You need another cool million?” he asked, to which Andrew waved a hand. 

“I don’t care about the money, I’m just… I dunno. Bored, I guess?” 

“You’re bored.” 

“I know you heard me— look, just give me anything. You got any new rubes you’re looking to fleece? Some competitor you want to embarrass?” he asked. Mads tapped his chin in thought. 

“You know, there is something I've had in mind for a while— it will require the utmost skill and discretion, of course—” 

“Of course.” 

“The benefit for me is that it will finally ruin the shop up the street.” 

“You still got beef with Faustus?” 

“I don’t know what ‘got beef’ means, but if it means he is my sworn nemesis and I wish to see his world crumble around him, then yes.” 

“Wasn’t the Silvermoon job enough? The flack he got when those people figured out he’d sold them fakes, and then they came rushing to you to get the real ones— which Quai made sure you got, of course—” 

“Of course.” 

“Wasn’t that enough?” 

“To put it simply: no. But one more good blunder and in the eyes of the black market art community, he will be dead weight.” 

“And you’ll reap all the rewards.” 

“Or at least his last few high-paying clients.” 

“What, you need another cool million?” Andrew teased. 

“I assure you,” Mads replied haughtily, “the payout will be significantly higher— and made all the sweeter by the professional demise of Mister Faustus.” Andrew ran a hand through his hair. 

“Alright, so what do you need?” 

“Tea first, I think,” Mads replied as he moved towards the back room of his shop. Dutifully, Andrew followed along after him. 

“Just sugar in mine,” Andrew said as he slid into a chair. He watched as Mads lazily waved his wand: a kettle and an old teapot sprang into action at the counter, one filling with water as the other opened its lid to accept a scoop of loose leaves that rose of their own accord from a tin on a shelf. Once two of cups had slid to a stop on the table between them and the kettle had settled itself onto a stove burner, Mads fixed his gaze once more on Andrew. 

“The job I need you to do is in two parts,” he began. He snapped his fingers and a tin of gingersnaps flew across the room to bump Andrew politely on the arm. 

“Cool, two parts,” Andrew replied as he took a biscuit and shoved it into his mouth, then took two more. 

“You are going to reproduce a priceless vase. To do this, you will need clay and water from a very specific spot in eastern Pandaria, and feldspar from the top of Mount Neverest. These are the only two places you can acquire what you need— the water and clay are both found in a specific underground cave through which a spring flows, and though I don’t know if the feldspar from the top of Neverest makes a difference from feldspar found outside of Stormwind, I think it best not to risk it on a job like this.” 

“Mmf— stho those’re—” 

“Chew and swallow, please.” 

Andrew did as instructed, then gestured towards Mads. “So those are the two parts to this?” 

“No. Then there is a set of paints you will need in order to paint this replica— they are only found in one monastery that has been using the same paints for centuries. They produced hundreds of them and they stored them in a guarded underground vault somewhere in the Jade Forest.” 

“So that’s the second part.” 

“No. You will then need to craft the vase—” 

“With the feldspar from the mountain and the clay and the spring water from the cave—” 

“—In one of the monastery’s crafting rooms. You will need to use their kiln to fire the vase and the stamps they have on hand to mark the bottom of it once it comes out— the wood they burn and the temperature at which they burn it is a closely-guarded secret unique to that monastery, and they have been doing it that way for centuries. You can do the painting here, of course,” Mads added. 

“Of course. So that’s the second part.” 

“No. Then, once the vase is painted, you will need to sneak it into the home of its owner and replace it with the one you made. I want the original.” 

“Why not just sell my very convincing fake?” 

“Because I do not sell fakes, Andrew, which is how I keep my sterling reputation. You will be setting the fake in place of the genuine vase, for which I have a buyer."

At that moment, the kettle started to whistle. Andrew gestured with a biscuit as Mads summoned the kettle over to the table.

“I can get the feldspar and the clay and the spring water, no problem— it’s the paints and the kiln and the breaking in stuff I’ll need help with. I don’t even know where we’re breaking into, and d’you know how long it takes to fire a vase? Eight hours at least, for the first firing—” 

“Andrew.”

“— and at least twelve hours for glazing—” 

“Andrew.” 

“Hm—?” 

“I haven’t even told you where you will be breaking into in order to switch out the real vase for the fake.” 

“If it’s the Silvermoon City Met again, I think they might just close up shop after this, none of their art will be real anymore—” 

“It is not the Met.” 

Andrew shoved another cookie into his mouth. 

“Well? Where ith it?” he asked as he chewed. Mads leaned in, long fingers tented beneath his chin. 

“You know Stormwind is currently without its boy king, yes?” 

“Yeah, the uh… what’s his name, the grizzled-looking paladin type is sittin' on the big chair.” 

“Turalyon is currently on the throne, yes. And while he holds young Wrynn’s spot on the throne, he does not live in the king’s chambers,” Mads explained. “Tell me— what do you know about the king’s private art gallery?” 

((Mentioned: @quai-mason ))

[gumnut-logic]

“I’m sorry, Penny.”

She had to bite back a smile. He looked so bedraggled and down trodden. His Hawaiian shirt was stuck to his wet chest, damply outlining his trim physique and dripping on the decking. His hair stuck up in all directions while dripping almost as much. But it was his expression of almost sorrow that set her heart beating just that little bit more. His beautiful carnelian eyes were staring at the deck plates, his shoulders limp as if he was awaiting her disapproval.

The Sydney Harbour Bridge adorned him from behind like a crown.

“Well, sometimes we just have to do what we have to do.”

His shoulders dropped just that touch more.

Honestly, it really wasn’t Gordon’s fault. The fact they were currently aboard a Sydney ferry, perhaps, yes, but most recent events, not so much.

It had been Sam’s idea.

Really, the cetacean biologist had a heart of gold, but how he chose to spend his spare time was most definitely questionable.

On the surface the suggestion of taking a public ferry to Taronga Zoo for the day was perfectly innocent. The fact that neither Gordon or Penny had done such a thing before was sufficient motivation. They were in Sydney for a couple of days – Penny had some business to attend to regarding her sheep station and Gordon had jumped at the opportunity to spend a little free time with his girlfriend.

Girlfriend. The concept was still new and despite all decorum, she revelled in the excited jiggle in her chest at the thought.

Gordon was a handful, but he was her handful. She had grown so fond of the outlandish Tracy brother something was fit to burst inside her.

He was still staring at the deck as if awaiting her admonishment.

Her lips twitched.

The fact they were aboard the ferry for the experience was definitely his fault. Sam’s recommendation was to enjoy the boat ride and see the elephants and chimpanzees.

She had to admit that Sydney Harbour was its usual stunning self. It was one of her preferred harbours and to be a part of it, rather than darting over it as was usually the case was a different experience.

The ferry was old, more a remnant of days gone past than an efficient mode of transportation and it meandered slowly out of the quay.

Gordon was exuberant on the water as always, babbling happily about the local fauna, the history of the bay and the unusual marine visitors that had been encountered in the past.

He was adorable.

Honestly, she could sit and watch him ramble on for hours.

Not that she was about to let him know that. Decorum had its requirements after all. But his enthusiasm was a source of energy, much like the sun and she wanted to bask in it as much as she could.

In this case, however, she had not been the only one.

Boarding the ferry, they had run into a boy and his mother. Penelope had seen the moment of recognition and her internal sigh had been a little resigned. The Tracy boys fame was a challenge at times and this was one of the reasons they had been a little hesitant to take this public boat ride.

The child’s eyes had widened and he had literally bounced up to Gordon. “It’s you!” He had landed directly in front of her aquanaut, a ball of excited energy. “You’re Thunderbird Four!”

Gordon’s grin was genuine. He did love his fans, particularly the kids, and there followed a quick and sharp Q and A as the young boy fired questions at him rapid fire.

Penny smiled at the somewhat stunned mother standing behind the young boy, dragged there by necessity and looking decidedly uncomfortable.

The boat was a third of its way into the harbour before Gordon was able to extricate himself from the conversation. Penny had the distinct feeling that it was only her presence and the fact it was one of their rare times together that drew him away. If he had been by himself, he, no doubt, would have stayed with the boy for the rest of the trip.

She almost felt sorry for the child. Almost. She couldn’t help but feel a little possessive of her Thunderbird, after all.

So, after an intense discussion, they had separated themselves from the boy and his mother and retired to the other side of the boat to watch the harbour bridge sail past.

Not even Penelope had expected the boy to throw himself overboard just so Gordon could save him.

The screams had been a little too familiar. People in distress, yelling for help. And Gordon being the hero he was…yes, her boyfriend was a hero and yes, there was that little wriggle in her chest again at the thought…responded fast and was in the water a split second after realising the situation.

Just as well, really. The boat may be old, but it was still a ferry and it left the boy quite a distance behind, quite quickly.

But her hero was one of the strongest swimmers on the planet. As the ferry operator slowed the boat and turned it around, Penelope watched her Thunderbird save a life.

The boy was going under when Gordon reached him and the aquanaut had to dive to gather him in his arms, but moments later, he was supporting his rescuee and swimming back to the boat.

The ferry crew were there to throw out flotation devices and it wasn’t long before Gordon was clambering back on board, dripping wet with his hair in his eyes.

The boy’s mother was hysterical, of course, but little could be heard above the sound of an approaching helicopter. Her word to John was responsible for that.

Gordon was ever the professional, checking vitals, reassuring the mother and bundling the boy into the basket stretcher that was lowered collect him.

The adoring fan was fortunately conscious and between gasping coughs gazing up at his rescuer like he had been sent from heaven.

Considering Gordon was likely backlit by the sun from that position, Penelope could understand that assessment. Her boyfriend did tend to glow at times with all that strawberry blonde hair and sunshine personality.

Well, he did for her.

The boy was bundled up and dispatched with his mother and emergency services. John reassured her that everything was okay and she had turned to face her hero boyfriend.

The ferry resumed its course somewhat hurriedly, its passengers babbling amongst themselves, but giving Penelope and Gordon some respectful distance.

After all, it wasn’t often a Thunderbird landed in their midst.

A Thunderbird who was decidedly miserable, wet and apparently awaiting her judgment.

She had to swallow another smile as he stood there all forlorn. He was just so adorable.

“I’m sorry I ruined our date.”

The Sydney Harbour Bridge was now sticking out one of his ears and it was almost comical.

She stepped forward into his personal space and, placing a single finger under his chin, drew his head up to look at her.

A beat.

She leant in and gently kissed him.

He startled, wet hands waving about a little as if he wanted to touch her, but didn’t want to harm her dress.

Someone cheered through the ferry windows.

She brushed her tongue against his lips and pulled back. His eyes were like saucers, staring at her.

She let her smile show, let it flood her mouth and her eyes. “One must never apologise for being a hero, Gordon.”

His shock was overtaken by his own smile, like a sun rising over an ocean. “Really?”

“Really.”

He straightened, his smile turning into a full-blown grin.

So adorable.

Just adorable.

-o-o-o-

[rurpleplayssims]

Writer emoji ask meme: 🤯,🛒, ✅? Feel free to answer for Campbell Quay or Strangertown, or just your writing in general, of course! C:

Thank you for the Asks @eulaliasims! 😊

Here are your answers:

🤯 What's a genre you struggle with as a writer (ex. romance, action, etc.)? I struggle to define my writing in a genre or theme. I mean, what would CQ be, real life?  🤔 For the most part there is no massive plan/outline to whenever I start a story or series. With both CQ and Strangertown, I have scenes I want to happen, and I work towards those scenes. In terms of trying to answer this question I suppose that maybe Horror? I’ve no inclination to write that because I’m a wuss, and wouldn’t want to read anything too scary. Funnily enough I had no idea The Girl on the Train was a thriller until I was getting freaked out by it. It was cleverly done. I wish I could write crime well but I’ve not had much experience writing that genre. Hard question to answer, because I rarely think of genre or theme when I write.

🛒 What are some common things you incorporate in your fics? Themes, feels, scenes, imagery. Hehe, other than my own life, you mean? 🤣 It's honestly scary how much little and big things happen to my characters that have impacted my life. But one thing I love is how...unconscious I seem to be with my writing. I can imagine someone’s mood or headspace, and suddenly, I’ve written several in depth posts about how bad or good a character is feeling when I am not conscious of what I write, until I pause and re-read what I’ve typed. Makes re-reading old stuff I write exciting. 

✅ What's something that appears in your fics over and over and over again, even if you don't mean to? Hmm...I’m not sure tbh. I worry that I’m a sucker for situations when a character feels that all is lost, but hope and a bright future is around the corner. I always want to be able to write a really ‘Oh my god this character is so down in the dumps’ moment and then flip it on its head in a way that’s both realistic and amazing. 

If you want to ask me more questions, see this post and send me the emojis in my ask box.

[burr-ell]

heyy! hope it isn't weird or anything, but just wanted to say that i haven't been very active on tumblr these few days cause work and stuff and coming back now i'm just! really excited to see you posting about calamity? and that you also enjoyed it? i knew you had good taste cause of percahlia & cr1 but still :p And like, just in general, i'm really happy to see stuff about calamity on my dash again and from you specifically! :D honestly it has not really left my brain since it aired (nor did i stop writing unfinished wips for loquaerryn. oops) but it's not that prominent on my dash anymore so it's been really nice! and absolutely did not make me tear up [lying]. i'm just. it was so so good and poetic and doomed from the start but still hopeful in a way and just. so good. def takes second place for me as far as campaigns go [after cr1] so yeah sorry for the word vomit and the incoherency but i just. still think about calamity and laerryn/quay a lot and don't really have someone to talk to who watched it cause my friends didn't really go beyond ep1 yet if at all. so you watching it def got me excited. so. yeah. not sure where i'm going with this. i dunno. happy that you enjoyed it too i suppose? :D

ive been sitting on this bc im overwhelmed by how much ive missed u in my notes 😩😩😩

exu calamity is such a well-told tragedy, and i think part of what makes it really hit for me is that like any good tragedy, none of the characters involved are actually bad people. morally dubious, sure, but not evil. because when it's down to the wire and they have to choose between saving themselves and saving the world, they choose the world. like i love in particular the dynamic of laerryn catalyzing the doom of exandria...but also using the most reliable means at her disposal to save exandria. her work on the leywright was born out of hubris and yet its ultimate use was incredibly selfless and heroic.

and like, they all played a part in the flawed system of avalir! patia was a consummate ends-justify-the-means political-dynasty leader; nydas accrued wealth through unscrupulous means; loquatious used his position to cover up the truth; zerxus believed gods were comparable to mortals and that he could Fix Him™; laerryn put her work and achievements ahead of all else and let her own grief and anger consume her at the worst possible moment; and even cerrit, the least dubious of them all, never looked up at any of the things that mattered and nearly lost his family because of it.

they helped break the world, but their actions also helped fix it. and that's an absolutely brilliant dynamic and makes for such a fascinating, gripping story.

[feetoffire]

Captain Christopher Pike, the rec list

I had this almost finished and ready to post, and then the kitten wiped everything, so here it is, a gazillion years later than I wanted. Yay. 

Ongoing - the fic is complete, but not all chapters are posted

WIP - fic isn’t finished

Incomplete - last-updated-more-than-a-year-ago WIPs

recs under the cut; spoilers abound

AOS

Gen

Pike’s Office by AnxiouslyGoing. Poor Jim has a Tarsus related panic attack, and ends up sleeping in Pike’s office/on Pike’s lap. Academy Era, bonus appearance by Spock, dad!Pike. 2k oneshot.

Another Life by LullabyKnell. Time travel fix it for ST2009. As ever, LullabyKnell gave us a spectacular, delightfully well-written fic. Dadmiral Pike, even if he’s technically a captain at this point. No pairings, everything is platonic. 12 chapters, 61k, T. Complete. 

Watching the Cloud of Dust by AngelQueen. Pike runs into Spock Prime while seeing the Enterprise off. Cue melancholy fluff (it follows Spock Prime around like a dog). 1.7k oneshot, G.

Phil Boyce/Chris Pike

horizons universe by gracieminabox. Massive, massive series spanning the whole of Chris’ life. Not canon compliant, i.e. Pike Lives. “Christopher Pike, in word and in deed.” Series, 263k in seventeen parts, G-E. 

Altered Horizons by InsaneSociopath. The bar fight goes very differently because Chris gets elbowed in the face. Featuring depressed!bipolar!Chris, who is Not Having A Good Time, Emergency Department (ED) doc Bones, and mother-hen!Jim. Phil is essentially Sir Not Appearing In This Fic, but he and Chris are married. Seven chapters, 14k, G. Incomplete. I adore this one. 

When Darkness Drifts by InsaneSociopath. Tarsus fic. Jim gets adopted by Starfleet but still ends up on Tarsus, except Chris is there. All Tarsus-related warnings apply. Jim and Chris centric; Phil is most present in the last few chapters. Six chapters, 44k, M. Complete. 

Kinktober 2017 by nerdqueenenterprise. What it says on the tin. Series, 13k in eight parts, T-E. Complete. 

A Vacation Long Overdue by nerdqueenenterprise. Reunion sex, mostly. They haven’t seen each other in six months, so they take leave on a remote beach. ~9k oneshot, E. 

The Weight of a Man by imachar. Another huge series charting the evolution of Chris and Phil’s relationship. Both canon compliant and canon non-compliant, so there’s a choice if you want it. Series, 174k in sixteen parts, M-E. Complete. 

shatterproof by gracieminabox. Will Make You Cry. Phil’s POV, STID compliant, featuring a picture from their early days. 4.3k oneshot, M.

Winged Desires and Veiled Persuasions by imachar. Post-Narada, ignores/was written before STID. Bones ends up hanging out with Phil and Chris at Spuhura’s wedding reception, and then the three of them have sex in Phil and Chris’ hotel suite. Pretty much pure smut. 12k oneshot, E. 

McPike

The Wind and Its Satellite by severinne. Long series, some BDSM, eventual Bones/Jim/Pike. Something of a McPike classic. Series, 186k in twenty parts, M-E.

Partridge Fallen From the Pear Tree by severinne. Post-divorce Bones works as a prostitute to make ends meet. Pike comes to town to recruit him, ends up paying for a night without knowing Bones is Bones, and then they both freak the fuck out when Pike realizes who he is. More-or-less just smut and angst. Pre-canon. Three chapters, 12k, E. Complete.

Singularities Verse by FrancescaMonterone. Bones and Pike fall in love, Pike adopts Chekov, Jim is Jim. Bonus Admirals Archer and Reed, and Archer/Reed. Mostly pre-canon, ace Pike. Series, 81k in six parts, T. WIP. 

Need by Noranem. Post STID, Pike and Bones invite Jim into their relationship and their bed. Established McPike, early days Bones/Jim/Pike. Four chapters, 12k, E. Complete. 

Pirk

See All The Stars by HoneyBeeBritt. Chris and Jim fell in love some time before Daystrom. Fluff and angst, with a happy ending promised in part four. I come back to this one regularly, especially part one. Series, 6.2k in three parts, T-M. Ongoing.

Shining On The Quay by topaz. Post-Narada through Beyond, ignores STID. Chris and Jim fall in love, get together, and figure out how to keep a relationship going when one of them is in space and the other is an admiral. Series, 32k in three parts, E. Complete. 

You Still Got Wheels, Kid by withthepilot. Yes, this is partially on here because it’s one of the few (good) fem!Pike fics. Pre-canon, Pike finds out Jim’s alive because she (not Winona or Sam) is listed as his emergency contact. Prostitute Jim. Takes place two years before canon, I think. 12k oneshot, E. 

Moments along the path by InsaneSociopath. Jim, through no fault of his own, is assigned to Pike as an aide bc Command thinks he’s a loose cannon. Pike is delighted /s. (he warms up eventually.) Some Tarsus PTSD; also a fair amount of fluff. Academy Era slow burn that goes right through to (immediately) post-Narada. 46k oneshot, M. Second chapter is artwork. Long but 100% worth it. 

How Do You Want Me, How Do You Want Me? by babykid528. Get together via smut. Feelings abound but talking about them does not. 3k oneshot, E. 

The Ocean Between Us by severinne. They get a drink in a bar. They’re both dead. Something of a get-together fic. Can and Will sucker punch you with feels. STID compliant. 1k oneshot, T.

Mutual Profusion of Good Feeling (aka Wherein the Aliens have a Flair for Mood Lighting) by kayliemalinza. This doesn’t really count as Pirk, but it’s not platonic enough for the gen category. Away mission, the premise is ‘aliens made them do it’ but there’s no sex or fade to black. Romantic, I guess? I really don’t know, but the prose is gorgeous. Also a Pike Lives/returns to the Enterprise AU. 5k oneshot, T.

Timeline Shenanigans

In plain view by IceCream_Junkie, Killermanatee. Pike/Pike. What can I say? The image of Greenwood’s Pike and Mount’s Pike together is very pretty. 2k oneshot, E.

Out of This World by TheAsexualofSpades. Space Puns. That is all. 1.1k oneshot, G. 

Discovery/quasi-SNW

Gen

A Small Storm by EKthered. Spock goes to visit his captain and ends up comforting him instead. Post Boreth. 2.3k oneshot. 

you were never broken by ordinary things by SiderumInCaelo. Michael Burnham & Chris Pike. Michael has only an inkling of what’s going on, but she manages to comfort Chris anyway. Post Boreth. 1.2k oneshot. 

Piler | Chris Pike/Ash Tyler

the chair and the badge by ninjamcgarrett. The boys are soft and in love. Lots of smut, but a fair amount of plot. Their respective traumas are addressed too, so there’s plenty of h/c. Honestly? My favorite from this pairing. Series, 59k in five parts, M-E. Ongoing. 

Reality by aishahiwatari. Initially a take on how these two idiots settled their differences, and evolution from there. Part two is post-season two of Disco. Series, 5k in two parts, E. Complete.

survival is insufficient by topaz. Post-Disco; they get together to remember Discovery’s crew, and then they get together. Traumas are addressed. Part two is a sort-of case fic, TW starvation. Series, 33k in two parts, E. WIP.

Feeling Too Deeply by NightOfTheLand. Established Piler, post-Disco season two couch sex. 6k oneshot, E. 

dancing to a beat of our own, flying with the speakers blown by wolfhalls. Neither of them want to talk about anything, aka Horrible Coping Mechanisms TM. Bottom Pike, quasi-hurt/comfort. 2.7k oneshot, E. 

Christmas in Sickbay by lah_mrh. Chris is accident- and injury-prone and has a new reason to hate spiders. Ash just wants to spend time with his boyfriend. 1k oneshot, G. 

The Pillow Will Disappear When I Forget I Put a Pillow There, Worry Not by prototype_malice. Sleepy fluff and cuddles. (they deserve it.) 665 words, oneshot, G. 

Chris Pike/Una | Number One 

it will take place without witnesses by love_in_the_time_of_kohlinahr. Post Disco, Pike is struggling with the knowledge of his future, so he and Una play chess until stupid o’clock in the morning (as one does), and then he lowkey has a panic attack. Una POV. Also features sleepy sex, but it isn’t plot-important and can be skipped over, if you wish. 2k oneshot, E. 

Overtime by Astronoddingoff. Una has Thoughts about Chris working doubles for the better part of a week. Also men get pegged. Definite sub!Chris. 7k oneshot, E. 

Terminal Velocity by Astronoddingoff. Una pegs Chris and drags his favorite fantasy out of him. Chris is On Board with all of this. Implied poly!Chris (i.e. Boyce/Pike) and hardcore switch/sub vibes from Chris. 6.8k oneshot, E. 

All for One by knightinmourning. D/s universe, where Pike had/has to hide the fact that he’s a sub to make (and stay) captain. Mostly reccing for part two, which has a fair amount of hurt/comfort (and also hints at threatened sexual assault and definite torture; be forewarned). Technically also Chris/Phil and Chris/Spock, but there’s no pairing sex, and part two is entirely Una’s POV. Series, 4.2k in two parts, M-E. Probably incomplete. 

A Gentle Touch by jedi_harkness. Chris and Una shower together. Body worship, no sex. So Much Fluff (and also happy tears). It’s super sweet. 1.7k oneshot, T.

Phil Boyce/Chris Pike

Decompression by Astronoddingoff. Chris is elated by a recent treaty success and the time spent dirtside. Phil does his best to make him even happier. Lowkey sub Pike. Implied poly!Chris (i.e. Pike/One). 3.5k oneshot, E. 

Most Pike/Boyce fics fall under the AOS tags

Una/Phil/Chris

Triangulate by Astronoddingoff. Sex pollen, but they’re already-kind-of-mostly in an established relationship. Recent miscommunications lead to angst. They all love each other and they’re all idiots. Lowkey sub Pike. Two chapters, 20k, E. 

Holy by Astronoddingoff. Self-actualizing featuring religious guilt/conflict, i.e. Pike is a sub and religion is weird about enjoying yourself. 2.7k oneshot, E. 

Happy Birthday by MeganMoonlight. It’s Phil’s birthday. Cue breakfast in bed. 530 word oneshot, G.