#fisherman!billy
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A Song of Sirens
You’d been watching him for months now. He moved with a grace that most humans lacked. Lifting and hoisting and moving heavy objects with ease.
He walked along the deck effortlessly, sea legs someone had called it. The rocking motion of the boat in the swells of the ocean but he held firm.
You’d been warned of coming too close to shore, to be wary of the docks where men kept their ships. But it was all so big and bright and tantalizing. Shouts and laughter rang out between the men.
Ropes were tossed and engines were cleaned. You recognized some of the vessels that you had seen tackle the open ocean. The port side town was bustling this time of the year.
Keeping your head just below the surface, praying a stray beam of sun didn’t catch in a way to glimmer across your scales. It was usually cloudy and gray here, but that didn’t seem to dampen spirits.
You’d even hear the fisherman sing joyful tunes when out on the sea. Whistling, notes being played on some manner of instrument and loud boisterous voices echoing out into the blackness of the night.
When it was so dark that the sky and sea seemed to blend together, like a painter foregoing use of color at all save for the white specks of stars gleaming in the sky.
You swam just under one of the docks, shadows skimmed over your face as boots clunked above you dimming out the light with their movement towards one of the larger boats docked there.
The Sirens Splendor was painted across the side in bright green lettering. A full team of men tossing rations, rope, and wooden boxes onto the deck. You let your arms drape around the side of a supporting beam bolstering the deck.
Eyes darting to examine every man aboard, you’d been watching this ship for long enough. Recognizing the voices, matching the faces. The captain strode forward yelling to a crew member about something.
He was stocky, tall, with close cropped dark hair and a nose that looked like it had broken once or twice. The men fell in line immediately at his call and movement picked up aboard.
You had begun to learn their fishing schedule, what fish they went out for specifically each time, for how many days they were at sea. Your curiosity had been piqued.
The days would be long, and you were just an observer. Swimming along but always staying far enough away that there was no chance of you being snagged in their nets or baskets.
Of course you’d been reprimanded by your family for straying too close. For your new obsession with the humans that just hadn’t been there before.
Or maybe it always had been there but you’d ignored it for so long that it reared up with a renewed fury.
Consuming your every thought, you had swam to the small fishing town multiple times and every time there was something new to see. Something new to learn. How you ached to ask your questions to one of them.
To speak with a human, would be quite an adventure.
“All right men, sooner we move out, sooner we can be home.” The captain had a gruff voice but it carried across the harbor, cutting through the wind that was picking up.
More sounds of shuffling and then he came into view. Tall, taller than the captain and leaner but sturdy as well. You’d seen him stand in place as intimidating waves had crashed into the side of the boat.
A shock of dark hair and grown out scruff, not quite a beard like other crew members. Climbing from below deck and tossing a large metal basket off to the side before resuming his place next to the captain.
You didn’t realize how shallow your breathing had become, fingers tightening on the support pole. Eyes never leaving his face. One of the crew member must have said something funny cause a loud laugh rang out from him.
It was like something in your chest melted. Watching his dark eyes crinkle with mirth and a raised hand to block the stray ray of sunlight from his face.
He turned and exchanged words with the captain who nodded, turning on a heel and making his way into the wheelhouse.
“Take her out boys!” His voice rang out, clear and melodious to your ears. A chorus of calls echoed back to him and you didn’t miss the twitch of his lips, the subtle hint of a dimple on his cheek.
As you watched the boat pull out, leaving the safety of the harbor and out into the murky colored water before them, your heart begged you to follow. Relaxing your grasp and diving deep below as fast as your tail would carry you.
Watching the bubbles and feeling the current from the boat brush along your face like a lovers caress. Come, follow me. Come.
Picking up pace as you noticed the engine heaving overtime carrying them further and further out to sea. Night was beginning to fall and the last slashes of sunlight broke through the gathering clouds.
The bright rays danced across the ever moving surface, sparkling crystals against a backdrop of navy. Surfacing briefly to see how much farther you had to catch up and panting realizing how far away they were still.
Humans and their machines. You cursed to yourself and dove once more, hoping to catch an undercurrent that would shoot your closer to them.
The water deepened as the sun had finally set and your eyes adjusted to the dimness.
Fish swam around you, darting off in this direction and that. Some unknowingly swimming towards the ship as well. The ocean felt icier in the dark.
Beautiful and dangerous. And yet these men braved it. Did it call to them like it did you? Was it as much a part of them as the merpeople below? If only you could ask them…
It felt like eons that you attempted to keep pace, heart beating rapidly in your chest, your body growing sore, dying to stop. Fate apparently listened to your pleas because you could see the boat slowing.
A metallic clunk and grinding sound cut through the water as you watched a large anchor lowering through the depths ahead of you. Looking up towards the surface, wondering if it was dark enough that you could peak out unseen.
You could almost hear your older sister’s scolding at how stupid you were being. How humans were dangerous and to stay as far away from them as possible.
Shaking your head as if to remove her scathing words from your mind, instead swimming as close to the boat as you could get.
Touching the hull, hands dragging along the surface, edging closer and closer to where the air met the water. Camouflaged by darkness and being so close to the vessel, only someone deliberately looking would find you.
Ears straining to hear what was being said. Something about good fishing weather and a moving towards the Bering sea.
Then you heard his voice, not being able to make out what he was saying but the men seemed to agree with him.
The waves picked up, jostling you from your spot and nearly taking you back out to open water. Your tail thrashed to propel you forward once more, this time choosing to take hold of the anchor chain.
You cringed at the loud slap your tail made against the next crash of water.
“Sounds like the weather is picking up.” It was him. You bit your lip as you heard movement, footsteps walking right to where you were.
You crowded as close to boat as you could, knowing if you made an escape now you’d surely be seen. Venturing a glance upwards you saw his face as close as you’d ever seen it.
He was beautiful.
A firm square jaw, a muscle ticking on the side as he stared out at the ever increasing white caps. A gust of wind carried across the deck further mussing his tousled brown hair.
You didn’t realize how tightly you were holding the anchor chain as you leaned forward, just to see his eyes better.
They were dark. Like the sea at night. Focused purely on the water before him.
“How’s it lookin’ Bill?” Another voice. The captain you assumed.
You watched his throat work, fingers that had been clutching the side of the boat released and gave a few wary taps on the wood.
“Looks rough, captain. We may be in for a long night.”
“Perfect.” But you could tell from the inflection in his voice, that it was in fact, not perfect. “We’d better make sure rigging and the engine are in shape should we need to head back.”
You listened to more movements throughout the boat, feeling it begin to rock more steadily with the waves. A few forks of lightning stretched across the sky off in the distance.
Eventually it began to grow silent and you realized they had probably gone to sleep. Feeling a growing sense of disappointment, realizing you’d had to go home and be left to wonder about their fishing trip.
Then a voice rang out. No. Sang out. A lyrical tune that carried on the wind and into your ears. A pleasant tone.
Then another voice joined in and then another. Soon you could hear laughter and the growing swell of the sea shanty from above deck. One man sang a verse while the others responded with some sort of refrain.
You wished you could see them, instead having to imagine them, their faces, as they sang. Then you heard his voice sing out.
What had the captain called him? Bill.
He sang another verse of the song. While it sounded upbeat in melody the words were melancholy. His voice, strong and clear.
Of course it was as beautiful as his face.
You closed your eyes listening to the song as it morphed into another tune then another after that.
You had drifted into some fantasy in your head, dreaming of joining along with them, standing on deck by their sides. Then the shouting began.
Eyes popping open wildly you noticed how much the boat had started to sway dangerously close to the water, back and forth. Pummeled by wave after wave.
It had been a steady stream of movement before but now it picked up erratically , as if out of nowhere. Calls of the men to one another became harder and harder to hear as the wind and ocean drowned out all sound.
A small gap lay between the edge of the boat and the deck and if you could just peer into it you could see what was happening.
The captains voice called out, shouting orders and it didn’t escape your notice the slight frantic tone to it. Another wave struck the side of the ship, it groaned as it tilted to the side.
Hoisting yourself as best you could to the lip of the opening, catching feet running past. The fisherman had begun to move into the most sheltered areas, but water quickly claimed anything that wasn’t tied down.
“Smith make sure the cargo is secure!” At that you noticed a smaller man, no, a young boy running towards one of the large wooden crates that was sliding freely across the deck.
He couldn’t be over the age of 17. Lean and much less experienced than the other men aboard.
He struggled with the ropes, hands slipping and losing balance frequently.
“Hold on!” Bill had shouted, pushing off from where he’d been holding tight to the stairs leading to the wheelhouse. Rushing over to help the boy.
“Everyone else below deck! Hold onto something!” The captain screamed against the whipping wind as another wave sprayed mist, blanketing the already slippery deck surface.
Bill had helped secure the crate, wedging it between two others and tying an intricate knot to hold them firmly. Smith had tied one of the other loose boxes down.
“Smith, Billy, get the hell inside!” The boat creaked and shuddered at the onslaught of waves. The water seemed more white and rushing as the waves crested higher around then.
The two had started making their way back to the safety underneath until Smith lost his footing, sliding, knees hitting the decks surface with a crack.
Billy turned, seeing the boy barely able to stand, running back towards him. Another wall of water crashed into the vessel knocking them both off kilter.
You saw one of the crates break free, the one the boy had tied down, apparently not good enough. Billy had seen it too, as the large object moved with deadly speed towards the young boy.
You wanted to scream to look out, noticing another rogue wave gearing up, moving towards the boat like a shark to an unsuspecting guppy.
The crate sped towards Smith but Billy rushed forward, pushing the boy with all his might, sending him sprawling backwards into a pile of ropes on deck.
Why happened next felt like it moved in slow motion to you.
The full blunt force of the crate hit Bill head on, knocking the wind out of him. Then the largest wave you’d seen yet smashed into the side of the boat, swirling across the deck and taking the box and Billy with it over the side.
Pulling back just in time from the gap you’d been looking through, you watched him soar past you into the frothy mixture of sea below. The cargo box had struck him dead center of his chest, pushing him into the drink like an anchor of its own.
A high pitched ringing sounded in your ears, the shouts from the men above seemed so far away. And then you were jumping into the murky deep yourself.
It was so dark and so cold. Even for you. You couldn’t imagine what it felt like to be a human, to have the air ripped from your lungs.
Your tail propelled you forward, the ache in your limbs from your earlier swim long forgotten. Pushing faster and faster. The white of his shirt and the light color of his skin was all you could see.
He would surely die if you didn’t get to him. His eyes were closed, bubbles leaving his lips, the box crushing him as they both plummeted to the ocean floor.
With some unknown strength you managed to get close enough to him to grasp his shirt, taking hold of him arm and pulling with all your might. Your fingers and muscles screamed in retaliation.
Panicking, wondering if this would be a fruitless effort. The man you’d been entranced with for months, dead because you’d failed. The ocean had failed you.
But then you got purchase on his torso, tearing him free from the crate that continued its downward descent. Rushing you both towards the surface as fast as you could.
Everything was black, until it wasn’t. Breaking free of the surface and somehow managing to hold him upright, his head slung off to the side.
Pushing the soaked-through strands of hair away from his face, wondering if he was breathing. How did you get him to breathe?
None of that would matter if you both didn’t get out of this storm. The fishing boat was so far away now. Shrinking in the distance, further and further away.
So you turned tail and did all that you could. Start swimming you both to shore.
It took hours to get back. The storm splashing water into both your faces, struggling to keep him above the surface. It had felt so much faster when you could dive underwater and just swim.
His eyes remained shut, maybe he was already dead. Why did that thought cause a huge knot in your throat?
You barely even knew him. He’d been a pretty surface dweller that captured your attention and nothing more.
Arranging his body to drape an arm over your shoulder to keep him from slipping you pressed your face into his neck.
Hoping to get a better hold of him, but then you felt that fluttering of a pulse right by his jaw. He was alive.
Relief washed over you just like the waves that surrounded the two of you. A renewed strength entering your bones. Pushing forward, knowing it wasn’t all for nothing. You wouldn’t let it be.
You could cry at the sight of land. Then a few tears did escape when you tossed both your bodies onto the shore. Sand caking to your skin and hair, seaweed clinging to one of Billy’s legs.
It felt like the muscle in your chest would explode. Either out of pride that you’d done it, or the tiredness because…you’d done it.
Regardless you both were on land. You’d saved him. You watched his chest rise and fall. Water dribbling out of his mouth at the corners.
You wanted to do something else, help him somehow but you were just so tired. Your heart raced as you reached out and touched his hand. It was so cold.
The ocean had been frigid, but where one of his boots slipped off, there didn’t seem to be any sign that something was amiss.
Crawling across the sand until you were right next to him, huddling closer, hoping your warmth would seep into him. Heal him in some foreign way you weren’t privy to.
As you rested your head on your arm, gazing up at him, wondering what had brought you to this moment. When your sisters heard about this…that you’d rescued a human-
Your older sister would disown you. You’d probably be a hero to the younger one. You huffed out a laugh as best you could at that.
Then a sudden shift and you heard him make a noise. You froze in place. It sounded like a groan but then he went still again. You let out the breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding.
Returning to look upon him, your fingers itched to touch his face. To feel the scratch of his scruff against the soft pads on your hands. To wipe the salty water from his brow.
Raising a hand to hover it over him. Why were you shaking?
Smoothing back a few locks of his hair, enjoying how they felt between your fingers. You couldn’t help but wonder how they felt dry. Letting your hand graze further down, drawing a line along the length of his nose.
His skin was smooth, unmarred from scars or blemishes. The tantalizing brush of hair that coated his face danced along your nerve endings.
You yearned to know what he smelled like when he wasn’t coated in saltwater. Your eyes drifted down following your hand. On his neck the steady thrum of a pulse set your mind at ease.
His shirt had been torn, buttons ripped away from when you pulled him free of the crate. The smooth plane of his chest was on display for you freely.
Touching him was intoxicating. Hand pressed to the center of his chest where his heart beat, the only feeling of warmth in the center, hopefully spreading to the rest of his body.
You watched your hand on his chest, rising and falling rhythmically. Unable to believe you were even touching him. Entranced by the movement. Up. Down.
“Billy.” You said aloud, enjoying the taste of it on your tongue. Feeling his heart steady and constant beneath your fingertips.
You could fall asleep, the tiredness setting in as the adrenaline wore off. Heavy lidded eyes moved from your hand on his chest drifting lazily back up to his face.
Where his eyes were open.
Icy fear shot through your entire body, pulling your hand away immediately like it’d been electrocuted.
Moving as fast as your poor body would take you, sand spraying in your wake as you dove back into the water, disappearing beneath the surface once more.
Billy had pushed up from where he lay, flexing his hands experimentally, dragging one over his face. Fists rubbing into his eyes as he blinked out towards the water.
He should be dead. But he wasn’t. Maybe he had died for a moment because what he had just seen…no one would believe him.
Swallowed too much seawater they’d say. Except for maybe Frank. He’d been on these waters for far longer than all of them. Seen so many things.
A soft splash and rivulets of water shot into the air followed by a glistening green tail, breaking the now calmed waters surface.
So it was real.
He was alive. A mermaid had saved him.
You swam far enough out that you were sure he couldn’t see you in the inky black night, but your enhanced vision allowed you to see him.
He remained seated on the beach, staring out at the water. But not just at the water, it seemed, it felt, like he was looking right at you.
And so you looked back. Certain all he saw was darkness and yet it felt comforting, exhilarating even, to see and be seen.
Maybe this is all it was. And maybe it was something more.
#billy russo#ben barnes#the punisher#billy russo x reader#billy russo fanfic#billy russo x female reader#the punisher fanfiction#the punisher au#fisherman!billy#fisherman!billyrusso#billy russo x y/n#billy russo the punisher#mermaid!reader
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Shower Thought
So like. El. AU where El is just a quiet and frankly unsocialized little girl who lives really close to the sea with Hopper. She was found in the middle of the forest during a patrol with no memory of how she got there, who she was, or anything outside of the most basic forms of human knowledge (Like how to use a toilet and what forks are).
So Hopper keeps her in his little cabin by the sea when El shows no sign of any family member coming forth to the station to claim her as their child, and essentially just becomes his Eggo loving daughter.
El, as any curious child tends to do, ends up escaping one day and running to the sea. She sees it outside her window all the time after all, and she wanted to get up close and personal.
That's where she meets Max. Max is actually a mermaid, just Arieling it up or whatever, and of course ran away the moment she realized a girl had snuck up on her. That's fun. El thought it was strange, but didn't find it weird enough to really tell anyone. She's read tales about mermaids, seeing one in real life couldn't be that weird, starfish are in books too and those things are real.
She also didn't think she'd keep seeing Max, but alas Max really likes making Billy's life hard as hell by escaping and chilling up at the surface. Rebellious teen phase and all that. So, of course, they kept meeting every time El snuck down to the water (Which was often. Wet sand was SUCH an experience and El kept going down to do normal people things) and eventually sort of became friends. Who knew mermaids spoke human languages. They bond, and Max is happy to talk about normal girl things, even if said normal girl things are kind of ocean related, or just things Max has seen people do.
Perhaps from there the boys end up finding out about Max's existence, or maybe Hopper, or perhaps El goes on a little rescue mission when one of Max's surface excursions lead to getting caught in a net or being captured by people who wanted to make a profit out of her.
#stranger things#el hopper#max mayfield#elmax#it's the max levitating scenes except this time in a fisherman net#no powers for el but she DOES get a neat collection of pearls and funky seashells#she also learns how to swim from max#maybe el even gets to meet billy at one point#perhaps even bond a little#i'd like to think that billy here is... well he's still mean but he's not BAD he's just not fond of max running away so much#the ocean is massive as hell and apparently curfews exist where the sun barely shines#and sharks. being half fish can totally mean you're half lunch#billy probably isn't actually tan since... he's underwater all the time#but maybe his skin tone is just naturally tanned like that? like a clownfish?#el is just fascinated by how cool max looks#maybe even makes a little clay version of her for fun#would max smell like ocean or like fish#it'd be funny if she smelt like salted caramel for no reason#the party would probably also be in awe of a real life mermaid#but unlike el who just accepted it instantly they'd be a little more in shock because they're supposed to be a myth#max gets barraged with questions and leaves because she's getting annoyed#and then el gets a little pouty because they made her friend leave >:(#max's diet is probably fish if not like sea flora but el shares her eggos with her anyways
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So happy Billy is definitely alive somehow
I’m filled with hope and it’s all your fault ♡
All you beautiful people meticulously putting together elaborate theories on how Billy is alive and we’ll be seeing him again.
#harringrove#billy hargrove#ive swallowed all the theories#hook line sinker fisherman and boat#i love it feed me more please
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Any headcanons on what would life had looked like if rhea told jeralt to piss off and she raised the baby herself?
Ooh!
I think Rhea would have come clean to Seteth (who still returned with a sleeping Flayn) earlier, still being shocked about everything and the "sin" she committed by creating homonculi, but Sitri asked her, from her own will, to look after her child - can she really continue creating people instead of creating vessels for the Progenitor God?
But Billy's here, and they're born from Sitri's will and actions, so whatever she wanted before or whatever Sitri was supposed to be, it doesn't matter anymore, and she's going to look after them.
Seteth thus understands how desperate Rhea is and tries to support her, to the best of his abilities, and maybe help her move forward and abandon her dreams of meeting Worst Mom again.
Billy grew up with the most ridiculous handsewn uniforms, but they still had difficulties to emote. Rhea didn't really care, and they could often be spot eating zanado fruits on the star terrace, whenever Rhea had free time from her duties.
Rhea's actually reluctant to let them learn how to fight, because she doesn't want them to be hurt. But they can learn how to heal if they want, and Billy's kind of happy to heal people around, and help around the Monastery, being the Archbishop's "ward". Seteth'd teach them how to ride a wyvern too, and actually impart wisdom from Saint Cichol or something.
They fish together, and Seteth sometimes takes them out for "fishing trips" outside GM.
One thing leading to another (maybe the 15th assassination attempt against Rhea), Billy wants to learn how to fight to "protect" their family, they get in their first argument with Rhea, but when they tell this is what they want to do, to protect their family, the monastery and all the things they love, Rhea relents.
When Cyril is brought to Garreg Mach, Billy takes upon themselves to help them settle here, and isn't bothered the least when Rhea expresses satisfaction at how nice it is that they are getting along like good siblings. Cyril is still completely puzzled, but he still has a lizard fam like in canon. Flayn calls them "cousin" and they try to discover the "modern" world together, rather, Billy tells her all about they know, and Flayn coaxes them to learn more about "romance", asking them to borrow books for her.
Rhea told Billy the truth about their mother - part of it anyways - how she died in childbirth, how Sitri was her daughter and how she wished for them to live and to be happy. She lies about Jerry, saying he was a most formidable knight, a legendary captain of the knights, who tragically died while rescuing people from a disaster - she asked Alois and the rest of the KoS to "lie" to Billy about Jerry, and they agreed because it's better for them to believe their Father died than to learn their Father "ran away" from parenthood because his baby was "not normal".
Sothis wakes up and Billy immediately tells Rhea about that weird gremlin in their head - discussions happen and Rhea tells them more about "the truth", how Seteth, Flayn and herself are called Nabateans, and are from a race of people who were created by Sothis, different from humans. And how she created Billy's mom to be a vessel for Sothis, but Sitri was her own person, and then she fell in love with a human, and Billy was born from their union. Rhea then apologises, because it was her desire to meet Sothis once again that led her to create Sitri, and which ultimately brought Billy, but Billy cuts her, she has nothing to apologise for - no matter the reasons why Sitri or they were born, they're happy to exist and live in this world, and want to help everyone, Rhea herself, included.
Billy thus enrols in the Officers Academy, but as a teacher, to gain more experience about the world and help the various nations, with Rhea's blessing - she thinks that with enough experience, if of course they want, Billy could take over her role and guide/help the people.
Sothis doesn't want to get the job, but wonders what her host will do, and she found it very interesting how they the product of human-nabatean breeding, and wants to see what they will do, can they build a peaceful world or not?
Jerry returns to the Monastery, and while Billy at first thought he was a poor soul who needed counselling, they come to realise this person is the father who abandonned them - Rhea lied, yes, but they understand why - and might decide, or not, to have some sort of relationship with Jerry.
the end
#anon#replies#what happens with the lords is up to you#FE16#fodlan AU#i still think in this AU Rhea would come clean earlier to Billy#since Billy was raised as her kid#she'd have had more time to realise they're not Sothis they're Billy the child she raised#just like Sitri in a way#when sothis wakes up rhea knows there are 2 souls in the body#in rhea's best world billy would have become a gardener or maybe a cook or a fisherman#But Billy prefered to heal fight and help randoms around like her#billy wasn't called the ashen demon in this verse#but something stupid like the big tuna or the biped cat courtesy of flayn and the monastery children#they didnt' mind
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🚢Boat Song Lineup & Links🚢
*links are on the boat emojis. most of the artists listed are specific to the linked versions, and many are folk songs with no single or known author. all the links are youtube links.*
🚢 32 Down on the Robert MacKenzie (Due South), Paul Gross
🚢 A Pirate Looks at 40, Jimmy Buffett
🚢 A Sailboat in the Moonlight, Billie Holliday
🚢 The Ballad of Gilligan's Isle (theme song)
🚢 The Ballad of Harbo and Samuelson, Shanghaied on the Willamette
🚢 The Bonnie Ship the Diamond, The Corries
🚢 Bluenose, Stan Rogers
🚢 Boat on the River, Styx
🚢 Canadee-i-o, Nic Jones
🚢 Come Sail Away, Styx
🚢 Day-O (Banana Boat Song), Harry Belafonte
🚢 Friggin in the Riggin, The Sex Pistols
🚢 Ghosts of Cape Horn, Gordon Lightfoot
🚢 Go to Sea No More, The Dubliners
🚢 The Good Ship Kangaroo, Planxty
🚢 Hard on the Beach Oar, Johnny Collins
🚢 Haul Away Joe, The Eskies
🚢 Highwayman, The Highwaymen
🚢 I'm on a Boat, The Lonely Island
🚢 I'm Shipping up to Boston, The Dropkick Murphys
🚢 James Craig, The Maritime Crew
🚢 The Last Bristolian Pirate, The Longest Johns
🚢 Leave Her, Johnny, Leave Her, Coda
🚢 The Leaving of Liverpool, The Dubliners
🚢 The Little Boat, The Wiggles
🚢 Lord Franklin, Pentangle
🚢 Lowlands Away, The Corries
🚢 Lukey, Great Big Sea
🚢 The Mariner's Revenge, The Decemberists
🚢 Marie Christine, Gordon Lightfoot
🚢 The Mary Ellen Carter, Stan Rogers
🚢 Mingulay Boat Song, The Corries
🚢 Mr. Andrews' Vision ("Titanic: A New Musical"), Maury Yeston
🚢 The Mistress, Dramtreeo
🚢 My Sails Are Set (One Piece live action)
🚢 Orinoco Flow, Enya
🚢 Overture/Prologue/The Launching ("Titanic: A New Musical"), Maury Yeston
🚢 The Pacific, Dave Malloy
🚢 The Pirates Who Don't Do Anything (Veggie Tales)
🚢 Proud Mary, Ike and Tina Turner
🚢 Race to be King, Seth Lakeman
🚢 Rolling Down to Old Maui, Stan Rogers
🚢 Roll the Old Chariot (sea shanty)
🚢 Round the Cape, The Longest Johns
🚢 Row, Row, Row your Boat (nursery rhyme)
🚢 Running Down to Cuba, Colm McGuinness
🚢 Sailing, Christopher Cross
🚢 Sailor's Farewell (sea shanty)
🚢 Santiana, The Longest Johns
🚢 Santiano, Hugues Aufray
🚢 Saturday, Jonathan Eng and Stephanie Hladowski
🚢 Save the Whales!, Country Joe McDonald
🚢 Ship in a Bottle, Fin Argus
🚢 Ship of Fools, The Grateful Dead
🚢 Song for the Bowdoin, Larry Kaplan
🚢 Song of the Volga Boatmen, Soviet Army Chorus & Band
🚢 Son of a Son of a Sailor, Jimmy Buffett
🚢 South Australia, Johnny Collins
🚢 Tow Rope Girls, Daniel Kelly
🚢 The Wellerman (sea shanty), Nathan Evans
🚢 The Wild Cape Horn, Friends Of The Shipyard and Fisherman's Fayre
🚢 The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald, Gordon Lightfoot
🚢 Warlike Seamen, Jerry Bryant and Starboard Mess
#PLEASE let me know if any of the links are wrong or dead so i can update them#song tourney info#boat media tourney#long post
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Northern Star; #1.
//fisherman!Billy, baker!reader, fluff for now, fem!reader//
773 words.
I don’t know how this will be received. It was an idea I had looking through Pinterest, and I’m excited to write it. It’s a little out of my comfort zone, and different, but I hope you like it. ♥️
Tagging; @e-dubbc11 @kayhi808 @snowkestrel @terry2227 @vaguekayla @danzer8705
x
You heard the sound of the foghorn that morning loud and obnoxious, with you nestled in your quilts clinging to sleep. Luna laid at your feet, stretching as she heard the noise. It meant breakfast. She licked her lips.
You yawned, glaring at the window bleary. And you were having such a nice dream. “Alright, I’m getting up,” you grumbled, standing up and peeking outside. It was gloomy and overcast, it looked like a storm on the horizon; your favorite weather. You saw him moving down to the dock, and your heart fluttered as he looked up at you. He wore that maroon sweater that fit him nicely. Too nice.
You hurried to the basin of water on your dresser, wetting your face, and washing up, and brushing your teeth.
You couldn’t help but feel a flutter of impatient anticipation in your stomach, as you dried your face.
Luna meowed. “Oh, I know. You’re just wasting away, aren’t you?” You asked, poking her plump belly.
She looked away, and you laughed, standing back up.
Your fingers braided your hair quickly while Luna howled at your feet, almost tripping you as you moved to pull a dress over your head.
She was hungry and she was going to let you know.
And then again down the stairs, and sometimes you wondered if she really was trying to kill you.
“You kill me, who’s gonna get the fish from the handsome captain, huh?” Luna looked to say she could just steal some.
You shook your head, and slipped your shoes on, grabbing a bit of the sourdough you’d baked the night before, and turned to Luna. “I’ll be back with some fish, hungry girl.” You said, stroking her head, hearing her purr.
The pathway to the docks was wet and slippery as you passed the pub. But it was morning so it was quiet. “Hey, pretty lady. Got anythin’ fer me?” He had a pipe hanging out of his mouth, eyes crinkling at the corners. His hair was silver, and it looked like he never brushed it. He wore threadbare pants and a shirt.
He always made you realize you were blessed.
You smiled brightly, “Always do, George.” You said, handing him some bread from your basket.
His eyes lit up, and your heart ached. He probably hadn’t eaten much lately.
He puffed on his pipe, smoke curling around him as thunder rumbled in the distance, taking your bread. “Best hurry, girl. A storms a brewin’.”
You scurried away, down to the docks, spotting him pulling up the nets. “Hi, Billy.” You said sweetly, and then slid on the wet docks, flying forward with a gasp, nearly wiping out.
“Careful, buttercup.” He husked, voice low and warm. Like whiskey, it was a slow burn that lit you up from the inside. He steadied you, calloused hands warm and rough on your skin, he had his sleeves rolled up around his forearms.
You kissed the corner of his mouth, his trimmed beard tickling your skin. “I always am, Billy,” you said softly.
His lips curved upwards, “Like when you flew off that cliff because you slipped on some moss?” He teased you, fingers tangling in your hair, almost pulling the braid out.
“I was cliff diving!” You defended hotly, cheeks warming.
Billy laughed, “Sure, and you didn’t challenge a sailor to a drinking match in the pub, and I had to carry you home afterwards.”
“He was stupid, and I won, no matter how drunk I was.” you said, stubbornly. “He thought because I’m a woman I can’t hold my liquor.”
“You threw up on me, buttercup.” Billy said, tugging on your hair roughly, as rain began misting the two of you.
“Billy,” you whined, pulling on his belt. “You’re mean. I’d throw up on you again.”
He tweaked your nose playfully, “Want some fish for Luna?” He asked, moving a little closer, looking at you through hooded eyes.
“Please,” you said, softly.
Billy hummed, “You know I like when you beg.” He teased, fingers grabbing the back of your neck, kissing you, making your heart stutter.
But you shivered in the rain, your dress dampening.
He pulled back, and turned, giving you some fish in a basket, and you traded your basket of sourdough bread to him.
He grinned, “I can have tomato sandwiches now. Thank you, buttercup. Tell Luna I said hi.” He paused, before stealing another kiss.
You were breathless when he pulled away, and you were very careful not to slip and lose yourself to the waves as you walked along the dock.
You’d already lost your heart to a certain captain.
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— 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘 𝐌𝐄𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆, 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆
steve harrington x reader
summary: each kiss and their meanings throughout your friendship with steve harrington
wc: 6.2k
warning(s): swearing, canon violence, underage drinking, (18+) description of a make out and an almost steamy time, ST4 VOL. 1/2 spoilers, canon divergence
a/n: all i have to say is… i’m rlly sorry :) also, please, please follow the 18+ warning!
⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰
forehead: friendship
The fact of the matter was, only a few months prior you had been fighting interdimensional monsters. Since then, it seemed like anything could be possible. Maybe that is why you barely bat an eye at the strange, yet welcoming recurrence of Steve Harrington in your life.
The first time it happened, you were at the record store on Main.
The rhythm of The Chain flowed through the nearly empty store as you browsed through the new releases. Shoe tapping rhythmically against the hardwood with fingers flitting through the slightly dust covered vinyls, you don’t notice the presence that had managed to sneak up beside you.
“I didn’t know you were a Metallica fan.”
The low yet familiar timbre sends your heart into a frenzy. Nearly dropping the vinyl in your hands, you clutch it safely to your chest and steady your startled breaths before glaring at the person. He has one hand on his hip as he leans onto the wooden shelf, his ever charming smile up on display.
Your muscles relax at the sight of none other than Steve Harrington eyeing your Ride the Lightning vinyl. A nonchalant shrug ripples through your shoulders as you turn back to the shelf and continue rummaging through. “There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me.”
He takes one tentative step forward.
You take one back, still unsure of his progressively changing heart. You feel a tad bit guilty at the feeling of doubt that clouds your judgment but you can’t help but think that his sudden change of heart was an attempt to win back Nancy. You are unsure why, but a part of you is so desperate to believe that he is still the same Steve Harrington from high school. The same one that you’re adamant about keeping away.
Yet, ever since that night at the Byers’ he has continued to prove you wrong. Taking Dustin and the kids to the arcade and hanging out with them willingly was just the start of it. You watched as he cut ties with Tommy and Carol, stopped throwing parties, and started to go to the tutoring center. You observed the way he protectively hovered over Max when Billy got a little too close for the girl’s comfort.
There was just something about him that had you wanting–no, craving– for more. You wanted to see the stupid smirk that overcame his features in the rare moments he out smarts Henderson in an argument. You wanted to feel the way his shoulder brushed yours as he walked close to your side, despite there being enough room on the sidewalk for both of you. Those moments are what you hated the most because he made you feel just like every other person who was attracted to the male species at Hawkins High. After freshman year, you swore you would never fall victim to the inevitable trap that was Steve Harrington.
However, in spite of your efforts, here you were. And here he was. Reeling you in like a fisherman’s catch of the day.
A soft look overcomes the once flirtatious nature of his gaze and a tint of pink dusts the apple of his cheeks. If it weren’t for the obnoxiously bright yellow glow of the shop’s lights, you probably would have missed it. “That’s on me. Completely and entirely on me.”
You only hum in acknowledgment before moving down the aisle.
Steve almost trips over his feet as he goes after you. Stopping in front of you with his arms out between two shelves, he stops you in your tracks. “Ok, I’ve got it.”
“Got what?” You eye him curiously.
“You, me, twenty questions,” he gestures between the two of you with a twinkle of what seems to be eagerness in his eyes.
“Right now?”
“There’s no better time and place than the present.” Steve crosses his arms over his chest with a grin that practically says you had no choice but to play his little game.
That was how you found yourself perusing through each genre of shelves (even the ones you have already browsed through) while playing a silly game of twenty questions. A game that solidified Steve Harrington’s place in your heart.
It’s how you found yourself now, sitting on his front porch in the pouring rain because you knew he loved the smell of the air as it poured. You sat shoulder to shoulder with his jacket wrapped snugly around you, his scent making you dizzy. The silence was comfortable, only to be filled with the sound of rain hitting the asphalt and your quiet breaths.
Without any warning, Steve is draping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you close, so close that you could feel his light huffs of breath on your hairline as he rests his head against yours. He lifts his head ever so slightly and gently nudges your chin to the side, making you meet his stare. His deep brown eyes are set intently on yours as his lips tug up into an affectionate smile.
Your heart pounds in your chest and your breath hitches at the sudden proximity between you two. He leans in and you close your eyes when his lips brush against your forehead–sweetly, tenderly.
“You’re my favorite person, you know that?”
“I know. Did you know you’re mine?”
“I know.”
tip of the nose: good luck
“You’re not going to mess this up, ok?”
You knew better than anyone that Steve was getting lost in his thoughts. The way he roughly ran his fingers through his hair and his red cheeks were just a few of the telltale signs that he was overthinking things again. That, and the fact that he was clutching your hand so tight that you swore your circulation was cut off.
“Ok, but what if I run my mouth faster than my brain and I end up pulling a Robin?” He rushes out all in one breath.
You tut Steve and scoldingly slap his chest at his jab at your friend. Prying yourself free from his hold that was now uncomfortably hot and damp, you slap your hands down on his shoulders and literally start shaking some sense into him.
“You’re going to be great, alright?” You reassure him. He opens his mouth to retort, but you shush him as you continue. “Besides, you’ve done this tons of times and seen tons of movies. How hard can the job be?”
He watches as you fiddle with the tags on his green vest. Underneath all the nerves and anxiety, Steve knows he’ll be fine. He just needed you to remind him. The softness of your gaze as you looked up at him melted his heart and stilled some of those first day jitters. He doesn’t say a thing, only wordlessly gulping and nodding at your words.
“Hey,” you lift yourself onto your toes. “You’ve fought monsters and Russians. You can handle a few crabby customers with hyper-specific movie needs. Now go in there, and blow Keith away with your endless Harrison Ford knowledge.” You giggle, teasingly.
“Excuse you, I only know all about him because of your abnormal obsession with the guy.”
Your features screw into a sour scowl and you stick your tongue out at the boy as he laughs. “Sooner or later, you’ll confess your love for Harrison Ford.”
The first genuine laugh you’ve heard in the hours since you last saw Steve erupts from his lips, loosening the tension in his shoulders. His jubilant laughter is infectious and soon have you doubled over in your own fit of laughs.
It’s only when the sound of another car rolling into the parking lot that the laughter dies down. The nerves resurface and Steve’s fingers find solace in the belt loops of your jeans, pulling you close.
“Deep breaths, Harrington,” you reassure one last time, gripping tightly onto him and leaning up on your toes to plant a quick kiss on the tip of his nose.
“Deep breaths,” he repeats back. Although his words come out stuttered due to the fact that he short-circuited at the feeling of your lips on his skin.
This wasn’t the first time the two of you have shared a short peck, but there was something about the way you looked in the morning light and the way you knew him so well, that made something shift in him that day.
cheek: happy to see you
It’s been two days. Two days too long since he has seen you. The stress from school and his constant closing shifts at Family Video have cut your time together short. Which is why when the irritating chime of the welcome bell goes off as he sees you walk in, his heart beats a little faster and his day is a little brighter.
Steve’s feet move faster than his brain and he’s rushing towards you– video tapes and clipboard be damned. The joyous sound that leaves your lips is music to his ears as he encases you in his arms.
“Steve!” you squeal in surprise, feeling the force of his body colliding with yours. The almost featherlight touch of his lips against your cheek makes your heart flutter.
His grip loosens slightly with a laugh of his own. The welcome bell chimes again, but Steve couldn’t bring himself to care. Not when you took over his senses the way you did. To him, nothing else mattered as long as you were there with him. He still holds you close, with his forehead pressed to your temple. Steve’s eyes shut and he’s humming in content against you.
You shakily exhale and silently pray that your next words don’t come out in an embarrassing stutter. “You are so dramatic, King Steve,” you tease rather successfully.
Steve groans at the use of his high school persona and mumbles into your skin, “Can’t help it. I missed you too much.”
“You saw me two days ago.” The smile that pulls on your lips is placid. If only Steve were looking at you now. Then he’d be able to see how deep your feelings were for him. How your love exceeded the “platonic with a capital P” kind that Robin constantly assured people of.
“That means I’m two days short of Y/N time.”
You chuckle at the whine of his voice and grab him by the shoulders so you can meet Steve’s eye. “How will you ever survive without me?”
The way his eyes soften and the instant change of his voice don’t go unnoticed by you as he confesses, “That’s the thing, sweetheart. I don’t think I possibly could.”
neck: “i want you”, lust, desire
You were wasted. You were absolutely, incredibly wasted and Steve didn’t know why.
He didn’t know why you hadn’t talked to him all night or what gave you the urge to drink more than he has ever seen you drink before.
“That’s enough for you, trouble,” Steve snatched the bottle from where it dangled between your fingers.
You groan from where you’re sprawled out on the couch. “Hey, that’s mine! Get some of your own!” You slur, clearly long gone from being of sound mind.
“Oh no, that’s enough for you.” Steve frowns at your proclamations of disapproval as you throw yourself at him with a whine, desperately trying to reach the beer bottle. He haphazardly places it onto your dresser and quickly catches you by the waist. “Alright, time for bed.”
The sound that resonates in your throat sends heat to Steve’s neck, amongst other places. The warmth of your body against his makes goosebumps arise on his exposed skin when you rub the tip of your nose up and down the column of his throat.
Steve knows he should have pulled away and brought you to bed and your clinginess was a symptom of your intoxication. But the smell of your lavender laundry detergent, the lingering scent of the alcohol on your lips and a scent that was uniquely yours cast a spell on his body—paralyzing him from head to toe.
“Steve,” he hears you sigh into the crook of his neck. The rasp of your voice gets him weak in the knees and he almost doubles over right then and there. He opens his mouth in protest when he feels the heavenly, almost silken press of your lips hot and wet upon his skin.
Another groan echoes throughout the room and Steve is too caught up in you to tell who let out the noise. Your fingers bunch the front of his shirt as you gravitate closer to him, chest to chest, determined to meld your bodies together–not satisfied with the space between. Steve’s hold on you falters as you push up against him. Your thighs delicately brush up his groin and another breath escapes him. It’s only when he feels your lips part with a light nip at his sensitive skin that he finally comes back to his senses.
“Shit, Y/N,” he exhales, clutching your wrists and prying your hands off him. Steve gently nudges your shoulders and creates some space between him and you. You whine, unhappy with the sudden loss of contact. It pains him to pull away because he wants you–god does he want you. But he can’t. You’re drunk, and you’re his best friend. The alcohol was clouding your judgment, blurring the lines between your wants and needs. You want someone to fulfill your body’s needs. You need someone to stay the night. You don’t want Steve and you definitely don’t need him. “We–I can’t.”
Your movements falter at his words and your hands fall back to your side. “You can’t,” you state monotonously. “You can’t? Or you won’t?” You sneer and turn on your heel, furiously sitting on the edge of your worn leather couch. “You can’t but you will with Nancy. You can’t but you will with every other girl you take out. Is the idea of us really that revolting that you don’t even want me?”
Tears are streaming down your face and Steve’s heart fractures in two. Never in your entire friendship have you ever expressed your insecurities or issues with the girls he has been with. He always assumed you’d never want him in that way, as he used nightly endeavors as a way to deflect the way he felt for you. Yet here you are now, pouring your heart and soul out to him, but he still can’t believe you want him in the way you think you do. All he could do was stand there in disbelief as his heart fell to the floor.
“Y/N,” he whispers, reaching out to you.
You shake your head and shut your eyes, turning away from him. “No, Steve. Forget it. Just go.”
“Y/N,” he says again.
You’re unresponsive as you lay yourself down, back towards the door. Steve sighs in defeat, watching the uneven rise and fall of your shoulders. He wants to get on his knees and apologize for making you feel unwanted. He wanted to smother you with kisses until his last breath, until you felt how much you mean to him. However your silence and cold shoulder told him all he needed, and with one last longing look he silently shut the door.
top of hand: loyalty
The distance between the two of you was insufferable and it had Steve itching to be near you, even if it was just the toe of your shoe tapping against his. If he weren’t such a coward, maybe he would have stayed with you that night and waited until morning before giving you his all. He knew for a fact that you wouldn’t be in this predicament if he did. But now here you were, so close, yet so out of reach.
It’s your voice that breaks him out of his stupor and back to the conversation being had.
“Shit,” you breathe out, hunched over with your hands on your knees.
“Shit? Why shit? Y/N, what?” Steve blinks frantically, looking to the group for answers. He probably should’ve been paying attention to Dustin and Max’s rant, but he had bigger issues to worry about. At least he thought he did, until you spoke.
“It’s me. I’m next.”
The room quiets then. The only sound to be heard is the old ticking clock on the wall. Steve’s heart is beating so loud he’s sure you could all hear it too. “No. No, that’s impossible. Are you sure? I mean, maybe you’re just overthinking things a little bit, yeah? What you’ve been feeling and their symptoms–it could all just be poor timing.”
“I had a vision, Steve.” It’s the first words you’ve uttered to him in days and the defeat in your voice is evident.
He huffs in disbelief, abruptly standing from the desk chair and runs his hands frustratingly through his already disheveled hair. “What? Why?” Steve pinches his eyes shut before looking back at you. “Why didn’t you tell me any of this?”
Your gaze flickers to the floor and the kids, sensing the heavy tension in the room, take it as their cue to wait out in the hallway. You wring your fingers together and scruff the tip of your shoe against the tile to avoid Steve’s furious stare.
“I thought you wouldn’t want anything to do with me anymore,” you admit, voice small. “After what I said and the way I treated you. I–I don’t think I deserve your friendship anymore.”
He didn’t think it was possible, but Steve felt his heart break just a little bit more. Nothing hurt him more than the thought of you thinking he didn’t want you anymore. You could break his heart a million different times and at the end of the day, he’d still be yours.
Steve kneels down in front of you and grasps your hands that rested on your knees. He brings them up to his lips. Your eyes shut at the contact, relishing in the comfort he brings.
The lump in your throat tightens as the water that gathered on your lash line threatens to spill over.
“Hey,” he whispers upon the top of your hand. “I’m still here and I’m still your best friend. I’ll admit, fighting with you that night hurt like a bitch. But that doesn’t mean I love you any less. And it definitely doesn’t mean you don’t deserve my friendship.”
“I’m sorry,” you sob. Despite how easily Steve welcomes you back into his arms as you collapse against him, there’s more weight to your words than he could possibly know.
You were sorry for that night, sorry for not telling him what you were going through. But most of all, sorry that the two of you couldn’t have more time.
closed eyelids: thankfulness
One look at Steve is all it takes for the waterworks to start flowing once more. The marks on his neck and the incarnadine bandage on his abdomen were enough to make your heart stop beating. After pulling Eddie, Robin, Nancy, and Steve from the freaky hole in the ceiling, you began to cry. You cried for Nancy and the horrid visions she went through, cried for Robin and Eddie for being pulled into this supernatural mess. Most of all you cried for Steve, who looked so bloodied and bruised that it was clear they almost lost him down there.
The trailer erupts in chaos as the Upside Down survivors are pulled left and right by you and the kids in a worried fuss. You swallow the lump in your throat as you assess the rest of your friends, making sure they are all okay before your eyes fall on Steve. His shoulders fall in defeat at the devastation in your eyes when you hastily drag him into the bathroom.
Distressed mumbles leave your lips. Steve groans and slowly bends down to take a seat on the toilet seat cover. You rummage through the cabinets and drawers desperate to find gauze, a first aid kit, anything, to patch up the boy you love.
Love. You love Steve Harrington. But right now, you really hated him.
“Stay with the kids. Stay with the goddamn kids. You didn’t let me come with you and look what happened. You–you could’ve…” An exasperated breath leaves your lips and you harshly swallow the cries that dare to leave you once more. You pace back and forth, ignoring Steve’s protests to calm down. The wire from your Walkman gets caught onto one of the drawers and you almost trip. “Shit,” you cry out, ripping off your headphones and sliding them down to rest on your neck.
The shake of your hands as you grip the edge of the sink doesn’t go unnoticed by Steve. “I’d rather it be me than you,” he says softly into the tense night air.
His words make you grip the counter tighter. The tears start to fall again and you’re muttering a slew of curses before kneeling on the floor in front of him. Your hands steady themselves on Steve’s knees as you look up at him with so much hurt in your eyes that he almost wishes he kept his thoughts to himself. A weak smile appears on his face when his fingertips gently take the headphones from your neck back to your ears–one resting on your left ear, repeating the song that kept you from Vecna’s clutches, while the other rested behind your right.
“Don’t say that. Don’t say that like my life comes before yours because it doesn’t.”
The confession falls from your lips like freshly laden snow, melting into every crevice of Steve’s heart. Because to him yours, and everyone else’s, life will always come first. “You’re not hearing me. You will always be first.”
There is so much conviction and truth in his words that has you believing there is an underlying meaning to what was said.
“Y/N,” he cups your face firmly in his dirty and calloused hands. The feeling is one that isn’t unfamiliar, but something about the way he said your name and the look in his eyes tells you exactly what you’ve been feeling for the past few months.
And you want him to say it. You want to hear those three words whispered into the quiet of the night like a secret that’s meant to stay between you, him, and the universe. You want to feel every way he could possibly love you. But not now, and definitely not like this. You shake your head with a remorseful tug of your lips, hoping he gets the message that Yes, you love him too.
The words die in his throat, his head hanging low but not from defeat–from the lack of patience rather of wanting to say how he truly feels for you. However, he nods in respect of your decision and closes his eyes in reluctance. He hears you shuffling before he feels the warmth of your lips on his closed eyelids–first on his left, then his right. You rest your forehead on his, forceful enough for him to know you’re near.
No other words are exchanged between you two as you patch and clean him up, preparing to face the inevitable and ready to enter the belly of the beast.
lips: love
Your eyes close in content as the music continues to flow through your ears. Sitting on the grass, the smell of wood and rubbing alcohol floods your senses in a way that almost has you forgetting why you’re all here. As you open your eyes, you see Lucas and Erica arguing over his knot tying skills. Your eyes drift a little further to see Dustin and Eddie play fighting and rolling around in the dirt with the biggest smiles you’ve seen on their faces since all of this began. The sight has a grin of your own growing on your features. You turn around to see Robin playfully giving a toast to Steve with a bottle of alcohol. Meanwhile, Nancy and Max are in the distance having what seems to be quite a deep sisterly conversation of their own. Your gaze locks on Nancy’s hands as she swiftly cuts off the barrel gun she got from the War Zone.
The tranquility you’ve surrounded yourself in shatters, forcing you to face the reality of the situation. Lucas and Erica were arguing over how securely those spearheads should be tied to their handles. Dustin and Eddie were testing the integrity of the shields they had just made. Steve and Robin were crafting homemade explosives while Nancy and Max were discussing Nancy’s reason for altering the anatomy of her firearm.
This wasn’t a scene from a relaxing spring afternoon with your friends. Everything wasn’t happy and well. Lives were at stake and you were at war. You scoff at the naivety of it all, thinking you could alter the reality of the situation with your imagination. The weight makes your chest tighten and if you weren’t so exhausted, you’re sure tears would’ve been running down your cheeks. You’re too caught up in it all to feel the newfound presence beside you.
“Hey, stop overthinking. That’s my thing.”
The playfulness of the voice beside you has you relaxing a bit, comforting you in a way it always does. Pulling one of your headphones back, you send a small smile to Robin before leaning your head on her shoulder.
“Who says I’m overthinking?” you mumble into the dirtied material of her cardigan.
“The pull of your brows and the way you were chewing on your bottom lip just now.”
You look up at her in amusement and evident surprise.
“Steve’s not the only one who knows stuff about you,” she teases, nudging her knee with yours.
A heavy laugh leaves your lips and the heaviness that once rested on your chest feels a tad bit lighter than before. It’s not completely gone, but it is better. That’s something you loved about Robin. Despite her chaotic nature, she knew exactly how to make you feel calm and relaxed, even when she wasn’t herself. “Forget Steve. I’m totally, irrevocably, in love with you now,” you giggle.
The two of you fall into comfortable silence, basking in the comfort of one another. Everything about Nancy’s plan terrified you. Not because you were putting yourself in danger, you could care less about that. But because everyone else was putting themselves in danger for you. To free you from this curse, to keep you from ending up like Chrissy, Fred, and Patrick. You hated to admit it, but sometimes you wished Vecna would just take you now. At least that meant your friends would be out of Vecna’s way and could find safety outside of Hawkins. Yet you knew that your friends would never stop trying to avenge you if that happened. You knew they wouldn’t stop until Vecna was dead. Though, you wouldn’t lie. If Vecna taking you would mean your friends were safer than they are with you alive, you would let him in a heartbeat.
“Robin?”
She hums in response.
“Promise me you’ll take care of them if this doesn’t work out.” You let out a weak laugh. “Even Eddie.” Despite him being the newest addition to your group, you couldn’t help but start caring for the boy. He didn’t deserve the way the world treated him and your heart ached for all he’s had to go through in a matter of just a few days.
Your words send a frown to Robin’s face. She didn’t like how little faith you had in their plan, even if she had little faith in it herself. “I don’t have to because you’re not going anywhere.”
“Robin–”
“No, Y/N, you’re not. Stop talking like that. You’re going to make it, ok? There’s no way in hell, or the Upside Down, that we’ll let Vecna get you,” she turns to meet your eye. “There’s no way I’ll let him take my best friend.”
A watery breath leaves you as you brush away the water that’s begun to form in your eyes. “I thought Steve was your best friend.”
“Ah, screw Steve,” she laughs with an equally watery breath. Robin encircles you in her arms as you begin to cry for the umpteenth time in the past few days, rubbing your shoulders in an attempt to give you solace. “We are not giving up on you, you hear me? Besides, do you really think Steve would let anything happen to you? The guy’s in love with you for Christ’s sake!”
“I know,” you continue to cry. “That’s the part that hurts the most.”
Robin’s hold tightens at the pain in your voice. “You should tell him. Like, really tell him, Y/N. None of that gazing into each other’s eyes and having silent conversations bullshit.”
Another thing you loved about Robin. She was blunt when you needed her to be.
“It won’t take away the fear of what’s to come, but don’t you think it’ll make things a little less scary to hear that he loves you too?”
You nod against her.
“Tell him. The guy’s too much of a wuss to do it himself.”
Another bubble of laughter escapes the two of you as you close your eyes and pray to whoever could hear for your friends to stay safe.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
“Day Seventeen: Steve is still being stubborn as hell and won’t leave the hospital room until the nurses drag him out. P.S. he stinks.”
Steve groans from where he’s haphazardly thrown himself across the uncomfortable couch of the hospital room. “Max, you’re supposed to fill that out with what she’s missed. Not useless shit.”
“It’s not useless. I think Y/N would appreciate knowing that you’ve stank for seventeen days straight,” the red head shrugs from where she sits by your bedside.
A tired sigh escapes Steve as he sits up with his head in his hands. “I’m this close to throwing you out.” He shows her his thumb and pointer finger that are squished together.
“But they’re already touching.”
“Exactly.”
Max puts her hands up in surrender with an amused smile on her face. When Steve meets her eye the girl’s smirk fades. She knew Steve was struggling. They all were after almost losing you to Vecna. But seeing the dark circles under his eyes and his disheveled hair up close hurt her heart. She couldn’t imagine being in his shoes. Almost losing the person she loved. It sounded like something straight out of a nightmare. And here Steve was, experiencing it in real time. “I’m sorry,” she tells him sincerely.
“Yeah, I know,” Steve dismissed her apology.
“No, I mean, I’m sorry. Lucas and I—“ she takes a shallow breath. “We should’ve tried harder to protect Y/N.”
A look of regret crosses Steve’s face at her words. He rises from his seat and makes his way to her, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Hey, you don’t need to apologize. I know you guys did the best you could. If anything I should’ve been there. I shouldn’t have… I should’ve stayed.”
“You did the best you could too,” Max reassures, seeing the way he glances over at your unresponsive form in despair. “You know Y/N wouldn’t want you to blame yourself.”
“Yeah, yeah I know. I just… I feel like this is my fault. I’m supposed to protect her, you know? I swore I wouldn’t let anything happen to her.” Steve’s voice breaks, and for the first time since she’s known him, Max Mayfield saw Steve Harrington cry.
Max was never good with comforting words. Sarcasm and witty comebacks came to her like second nature, but she was never good with comfort. Soft words and reassuring smiles was something she didn’t have the luxury of growing up with. Billy made sure of that. But it wasn’t until you that she realized something as simple as a tight hug or a soft smile from someone you loved could make you feel even just a little bit better. So as Steve’s cries got heavier, she squeezed him tighter, hoping she could give him an ounce of the love you’ve given to all of them.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
“Day Twenty-One: The Byers are back in town. El, Mike, and Will promise they’ll come visit with Jonathan as soon as they can. You haven’t missed much since Dustin and Eddie filled this out yesterday. It’s true, Hopper’s alive and well. I wish you were awake to see him. Everyone’s a bit lost without you. I mean, even Erica doesn’t know who to go to anymore for “girl advice.” To tell you the truth, so am I. I miss gossiping over cups of tea and having movie nights with you. I tried having one with Robin, but Pretty in Pink isn’t really her style. Steve’s been quieter these days. Don’t worry, we’ve been taking care of him for you. Just come back to us soon, ok? I miss you. Love, Nancy.”
The girl closes the journal with teary eyes, grasping your hand with her free one. Maybe it was childhood nostalgia that brought her to your bedside. Or maybe it was guilt. The two of you were thick as thieves growing up. Being neighbors helped with that. As you grew, your bond only strengthened. Until she threw it all away for her stupid high school reputation and a boy. She shakes her head with a wet smile at the irony of it all. Who knew the boy she threw you away for would be the same boy to make you whole again?
“You know, I think deep down, I always knew Steve’s heart belonged to someone else. He claimed he loved me, but the way the two of you are when you’re together is… something else. Something magical. And that’s ok,” she adds in a rush, afraid that despite your unconscious state, you may still hear her in limbo and take full offense. “I just wish the two of you said something sooner. It’s breaking my heart seeing Steve like this. He needs you, Y/N. I need you.”
Nancy falls into remorseful silence. The rest of her night was spent wrapped in childhood memories and Cyndi Lauper cassette tapes while she waited for Steve to return from his weekly run home. Jonathan joined not much later, following the same routine. Writing in your journal, sitting by your side with your other hand in his, and hoping that everything they said to you could be heard wherever you were.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
“Promise me you’ll be safe.” The tears in your eyes glistened in the light of the setting sun as Steve softly ran the pad of his thumbs over the apples of your cheeks.
“Only if you promise me the same,” you whisper, foreheads touching and lips barely brushing against one another–breathing in the same air.
He nods wordlessly, deeply inhaling your familiar scent that reminds him of home. The horn of the Winnebago goes off, startling you both. Steve turns to see Eddie leaning on the steering wheel with an apologetic smile as Robin yanks him back by the collar of his jacket.
“Steve–”
He’s not sure why it’s happening. Perhaps it’s the thumping in his chest that has him throwing all caution to the wind as he firmly grasps your face in his hold. That or the possibility that he may never get the chance to hold you like this ever again. He bets on the latter.
The feeling of his lips on yours stops the word vomit that threatened to spill from your mouth. Steve pulls you closer than you thought was possible, his body melding with yours. Every movement of his lips against yours was wet, slightly awkward, but perfect nevertheless. An action you thought would be weird, the complete opposite. Kissing Steve didn’t feel like a crime. It felt like the one thing you were always meant to do.
When he releases you, you’re gasping for air. Your hands that travelled to the back of his neck and into his hair hold just a little bit tighter, pulling a moan from Steve’s already swollen lips.
“Steve,” you breathe against him.
He rests his forehead on yours, slightly shaking his head. “I know. I know, sweetheart.”
“But Steve—“
“Tell me when we see each other again. Okay?”
Seeing the reluctance in your eyes, he gives you one last soft peck on the lips.
“Okay.”
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
It’s day twenty-five when the nurse’s reassess you again. Twenty-five days with little to no change in your comatose state. Twenty-five days since Steve last had you.
As he sits in his usual place by your bed with your hand in his, every regret he has when it comes to you rushes through him. He should’ve just let you say it. If he wasn’t so naive in thinking they could win this time around, he would’ve let you. Now he would give anything to hear you utter those three words.
Steve brushes the apple of your cheek with his knuckles before leaning over to place a soft kiss against your cold, chapped lips. He then rests his temple on yours as he settles himself onto the side of your bed.
The slight tick of your heart monitor has Steve holding you tighter.
He doesn’t need to say the words he wants to hear because he knows even now that every touch, every kiss, has meaning. Meaning that even your subconscious self can feel.
⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰
𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐃𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊, 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒, 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐃!
st taglist: @sunflowerbecca @beth-winchester21 @dystals @thesewordsareallihavetogive @buckyseddie @wanniiieeee @i-love-scott-mccall @intrepidacious
add yourself to my taglist!
#steve harrington#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x y/n#steve harrington fanfiction#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington fic#steve harrington one shot#stranger things x reader#stranger things x you#stranger things x y/n#stranger things fanfiction#stranger things fanfic#stranger things fic#stranger things one shot#samwlscns writing
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Continuation of the Birthday Series! This is pure tooth-rotting fluff. I will not apologize. (I accidentally published this not meaning too. It's not finished, but I guess I will split this into two parts then 🥲)
The Finale to the Birthday Series Part I of II
March 29, 1991.
Billy turns 25. It’s a Friday.
Steve curls around Billy’s naked form, anxious to tell him the news. He’s been awake for what feels like hours, excitement radiating through his body. They’ve been talking about going on vacation to California for his birthday which happened to be during Spring break. They discussed it months in advance, and the closer it got to the date of their trip the more homesick Billy got. Billy was constantly pacing, staring into nothing, and huffing at minor inconveniences.
Steve could tell he was just itching to dip his toes into the wet sand of San Diego’s beaches again. At the beginning of the month, Steve told Billy they’d be renting a house instead of staying in a “shitty” hotel. Billy said he didn’t care as long as it was close to the ocean. Steve promised to deliver, and he would deliver… more than Billy knows or expects, which is why, now, Steve is about to jump out of his skin if Billy doesn’t wake up soon.
Steve decides Billy has been asleep for too long. Steve gently squeezes him - one hand on his boob, the other snaked around his belly - and Billy finally stirs from his slumber. He groans when he opens his eyes and the sunlight from the window hits his face.
“Goddamn,” Billy yawns, “s’fucking bright.”
“Good morning, birthday boy!”
Steve squeezes him so tight that Billy taps out, gasping for air.
“Wake-y, wake-y, handsome baby!”
“Ugh, shut up…”
Billy jabs Steve in the side, and Steve shouts, “Oh, you have wounded me! I’ve no choice but to defend myself!”
They roll around, wrestle, play-fight until they’re both in hysterics. Steve gets on top of Billy, holding Billy’s wrists against his pillow as he leans down for a kiss. Billy melts against Steve’s lips, warmth flooding his limbs. He sighs contently, blue eyes meeting brown. Steve smiles above him, so deeply in love with him.
“You ready?”
“Yeah,” Billy nods, “as I’ll ever be”
The flight is nerve wracking for Billy. He’s never actually been on a plane. Well, that’s a lie. He was air lifted once to a government facility when he was actively dying, but it’s not like he was conscious at the time. Steve holds his hand through most of the flight, brushing a thumb over his knuckles to soothe him.
They make it to their “rental” in California by night. It’s a three bedroom, two bath with ocean views. The master bedroom has big windows and French doors leading out to a small deck for sitting. They’re both dead tired, having just enough energy for handjobs in the shower before passing out in their big bed. In the morning, Steve finds Billy sitting outside on the deck in the sun, head tilt back and hair and skin shining under its rays. Billy is like a fish being returned to the water after struggling to breathe in a fisherman’s grasp.
Billy belongs here.
Steve is certain of that, especially when Billy takes him around town their first full day there. He shows him his former haunts, telling Steve all about the stupid shit he got into with his friends. God. Friends. Billy had friends. Billy shows him the garage he used to “work” at when he was just a kid. An old, big and burly man with the name Hank embroidered into his shirt stares at Billy for a good long minute from the open doors of the garage. He asks, “That you, Billy?” and when Billy confirms, the man nearly breaks Billy’s back in a bone crushing hug.
Hank says he could come back and work for him some time. Billy says thanks, but that he's just on vacation. Lives in Indiana now. Hank says that's too bad, but if ever decided to move back the job is there for him.
Steve thinks that's nice that Billy has a place like this. Here. Where he belongs. It eases his anxiety a bit.
The next day, Steve and Billy get tacos at a taquería on the boardwalk. Billy is a bit of a taco snob, and orders for them both thinking he's cool for knowing just enough Spanish to read off a menu. Pescado. Carnitas. Birria - Steve thinks that one is his favorite, though Billy wont tell him what's in it. He just shrugs and bites into the taco, brothy sauce dripping down his forearm. Then he moans. Loudly.
They are delicious, Steve thinks. Better than the fast food tacos he gets in the "hard shell" they have back in Hawkins, which Billy will not eat. The first time they ever had "Taco Night" with the gang, Billy got mad that Steve didn't buy the corn tortillas (they didn't have those at the store, he tried to explain) and he nearly crucified Steve for not bothering to cook the flour ones. After biting into the corn tortillas, he can see why.
Steve loves that they're Billy's comfort food. They remind him of California. Where he belongs. Home.
The day after that, they go to an aquarium.
Billy always swears he's not a nerd, but Steve is starting to doubt that with the way Billy practically narrates each exhibit like it's his job. Even a few tourists wandering around listen in when Billy talks animatedly about deep sea creatures. One woman with her young grandson asks him what he meant by "bioluminescent" and Billy responds with "the fish fucking glow." She didn't seem too happy with that, but gave a polite nod before dragging her grandson away.
Billy is most excited about the sharks and rays exhibit. Steve asks about the fish hanging off of a big shark in the massive tank, and Billy goes on a tangent about remoras. He almost works himself into a frenzy when he gets into the misunderstood nature of sharks. Shouts, even. "Don't fuck with a shark, and they wont fuck with you!"
It's a motto everyone should live by.
Steve buys Billy a shark plush at the gift shop. It's huge, taking up a significant portion of their bed back at the rental. Billy spends every night on their vacation curled up with the damn thing. Steve almost regrets buying it, but the content look on Billy's face as he hugs the shark to his body is well worth it.
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Fisherman Blues ft Chris Brown by Billy Kidd for M Magazine
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be my star - lo'ak x male! metkayina! reader
official series page
summary: lo'ak finds companionship in a young fisherman from a neighboring metkayina village- and maybe something more.
tags: slow burn, eventual romance, minor character death, angst, fluff
pairings: lo'ak x reader, lo'ak x tsireya, lo'ak & reader, lo'ak & tsireya. aka he's confused about his feelings
also published on ao3
i do not have a planned amount of chapters for this story.
chapter one: friends
chapter two: payakan
chapter three: the tulkun return
chapter four: coming soon...
chapter four content warning: chapter four contains heavy themes, including, but not limited to, violence, death, and childbirth.
are you like me and need something playing in the background to do anything? then this may interest you or inspire you to listen to while reading!
what have i been listening to while writing this?:
happiness is simple - simon franglen
i bet on losing dogs - mitski
the tulkun return - simon franglen
butchered tongue - hozier
sunflower - post malone
pandora - james horner
the way of water - simon franglen
what was i made for? - billie eilish
attachment - kanii
4runner - brenn!
payakan - simon franglen
from darkness to light - simon franglen
behind blue eyes - limp bizkit
iknimaya - james horner
i, carrion - hozier
#fanfic#fiction#my fic#fanfiction#reader insert#avatar#avatar way of water#avatar way of water x reader#avatar x reader#lo'ak x y/n#lo'ak x male reader#lo'ak sully x reader#lo'ak sully#lo'ak x reader
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Me wishing I could write porn with a plot but it always turns into plot with a little porn 🙃
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2024 Best Musical World Cup Qualifiers Official List A-K
This section of the Official List features musicals between letters A-K that have NOT automatically qualified.
Here is the list of musicals that have automatically qualified.
Here is the list for letters L-Z.
& Juliet
9 to 5
13: The Musical
21 Chump Street
25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee
35MM: A Musical Exhibition
42nd Street
1776
1789: Les Amants de la Bastille
Ablaze
The Act
Adamandi
The Addams Family
Aida
Ain't Misbehavin
Alice By Heart
Allegiance
American Idiot
An American in Paris
American Psycho
Amélie
Anastasia
Anne & Gilbert
Annie
Annie Get Your Gun
Anyone Can Whistle
Anything Goes
Applause
The Art of Pleasing Princes
Assassins
Av. Larco
Avenue Q
Back to the Future the Musical
The Band's Visit
Bandstand
Bare: A Pop Opera
Bat Boy
Beauty and the Beast
Bedknobs and Broomsticks
Beetlejuice
Be More Chill
The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas
Big Fish
Big River
Billy Elliot the Musical
Black Friday
Blood Brothers
Bloody Bloody Andrew Jackson
Bonnie and Clyde
The Book of Mormon
Bran Nue Dae
Bridges of Madison County
Bright Star
Bring It On
Bugsy Malone
Bye Bye Birdie
La Cage aux Folles
Calendar Girls
Calvin Berger
Camelot
Caroline, or Change
Carousel
Carrie
Catch Me if You Can
Charlie and the Chocolate Factory
Chess
Chitty Chitty Bang Bang
A Chorus Line
Cinderella (Rodgers and Hammerstein)
City of Angels
Clown Bible
The Color Purple
Contact
The Count of Monte Cristo
Crazy for You
Curtains
Damn Yankees
De 3 Biggetjes
Dear Evan Hansen
Death Note: The Musical
Death Takes a Holiday
The Devil
Devotion of Suspect X
Dogfight
The Dolls of New Albion
Don Juan
Dorian Gray
Dracula, the Musical
Dreamgirls
The Drowsy Chaperone
Elisabeth
Émilie Jolie
Everybody’s Talking About Jamie
Evil Dead: The Musical
Evita
FANGIRLS
The Fantasticks
Finding Neverland
Fiorello!
Firebringer
The Fisherman’s Daughters
Fly by Night
Follies
Fosse
Frankenstein (Wang Yong Beom + Brandon Lee)
Frankenstein: A New Musical
The Frogs
Frozen
Funny Girl
A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum
A Gentleman's Guide to Love and Murder
Godspell
Grease
Groundhog Day
Guys and Dolls
The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals
Hair
Hallelujah, Baby!
Hans Christian Andersen
Harmony
Heathers
Hedwig and the Angry Inch
Hello, Dolly!
Holy Musical B@man!
How to Dance in Ohio
How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying
Hoy no me puedo levantar
In the Green
In Transit
Jack the Ripper
Jagged Little Pill
Jane Eyre
Jekyll and Hyde
Jerome Robbins' Broadway
Jersey Boys
Jesus Christ Superstar
Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat
Kimberly Akimbo
King's Table
The King and I
Kinky Boots
Kismet
Kiss Me, Kate
Kiss of the Spider Woman
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About that Listhea and Edelgard dialogue on crest and nobles, do you remember how in the begining of the game Hanneman wonders if Byleth as a Crest when they are a freaking commoner/mercenary ?
That's another reason why the doodoo about "crust = nobles" is, well, doodoo.
Thing is, Fodlan verse cannot be that well developed and written because Supreme Leader has to "have a point" for people who buy things at face value.
So we can't have succession crisis when commoners (maybe far far far far removed bastards?) pop up with a crest while the "noble line" doesn't have any to lampshade how the crust system is BaD because it decides inheritence... when Supreme Leader hammers that everyone with a crust is a noble.
Imagine a verse where Hanneman's crest detector machine is used to "discredit" or to give more credit to, say, someone's inheritance by checking if they have a crest or not, or House Goneril having to deal with Bob the fisher who has a Crest of Goneril, thus asks for his part of inheritance of the Goneril estate because that totes means he's part of this family?
In Supreme Leader and her court's views, Bob doesn't exist as a fisherman, Bob is already a noble! And if he isn't, well, he doesn't exist.
Are people anobled because they have a crust? Billy and Jerry are living proofs that no, they're not. But we can't focus on this too much, else Supreme Leader's spiel falls apart.
FWIW, there's a reason why I liked White Clouds, because, while it's a prologue, on its own, it gives a bit of meat to the Fodlan verse - because it's supposed to be a red herring route so you hear everything and yet see the dissonances for the big reveal (Flamey's identity!) to hit as "hard" as it does with all the sad uwus it entails, come the post-TS, we don't give a crap about Flamey anymore, and everyone drinks tea.
So, in a way, Hanneman could only wonder if Billy has a crest despite being a random in WC - because in the post TS routes, Supreme Leader has to have a point (they need those sad uwus!) and we don't care to find out or hear about magic blood, the player is hammered with "magic blood BaD because it exists".
#anon#replies#idk if I answered your question?#commoners have crusts and remain commoners#but Supreme Leader said without crust there are no nobles#so what about the crusted commoners?#without crusts some nobles are kicked out from their families we know it from the miklan issue#but at the same time crustless gustave was still a member of house dominic and the effing King's knight and tutor of his heir#in a situation where relics are valued crusts are important#and we know they grant superpowers#but is the magic blood bad because people prefer supermen#or it's just people picking their prefered leaders based on a shit criteria?#FE16#we can't go that deep in this verse#because it might sour your Hresvelg Grey
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Black Sails Monologuolympics 7.1: FLINT: ROUND 1 🩸
4/16: 101 vs 209
Flint, to Billy, in 101: “When a king brands us pirates, he doesn't mean to make us adversaries. He doesn't mean to make us criminals. He means to make us monsters. For that's the only way his God-fearing, taxpaying subjects can make sense of men who keep what is theirs and fear no one. When I say there's a war coming, I don't mean with the Scarborough. I don't mean with King George or England. Civilization is coming and it means to exterminate us. If we are to survive, we must unite behind our own king.”
Flint, to Miranda, in 209: “I told you of my grandfather who raised me. A fisherman in Padstow. Well, in his youth he was a deckhand on a privateer off the coast of Massachusetts. And one night he was alone on the late watch at anchor in the Boston Harbor when he sees this man climbing out of the water and onto his ship. A stranger. Now, my grandfather thought about ringing the bell, but curiosity got the better of him. The stranger approaches my grandfather and asks him for a little rum. Man said that he'd fled his fishing trawler. Accused of killing another man. And when asked his name, the man simply replied Mr. Flint. This stranger, he never said whether he was guilty of the killing or why he chose that ship or where he was bound, he just… just sat there. Eventually, he asked my grandfather for a little more rum from below. My grandfather went off to fetch it, but when he returned… the man was gone. My grandfather was in Boston for a month after that. Never heard a word about a killing or a fugitive at large. It was as if the sea had conjured that man out of nothing and then taken him back for some unknowable purpose. When I first met Mr. Gates and he asked me my name… I feared the man I was about to create. I feared that someone born of such dark things would consume me were I not careful. And I was determined only to wear him for a while and then dispose of him when his purpose was complete. And I thought of that story. Am I ready to let him go? Truth is… every day I've worn that name I've hated him a little more. I've been ready to return him to the sea for a long time."
polls tagged #bsm71
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honestly what did billy joel put in "downeaster alexa" that fills me with such soul-deep melancholy and yearning. was i a suffering new england fisherman in a previous life
they say these waters aren't what they used to be | but i got people back on land who count on me
there ain't much future for a man who works the sea | but there ain't no island left for islanders like me
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Toontown Corporate Clash Recap: Toontown Central Cogs
Okay so, before I begin, let me just explain that Trap Gags were updated a couple days ago so that, when multiple Traps are set on the same Cog in the same turn, all are overwritten except for the most powerful.
Now, on to Toontown Central’s Cogs:
(Note: because of how I split my information up, some information unrelated to the Cogs was mixed in.)
Toontown Central Playground has four tunnels that each lead to different streets:
Puncline Place, which connects to Barnacle Boatyard. The Fisherman is a purple duck named Punchy. Its Cog Population is 40% Sellbots, 40% Cashbots, 5% Lawbots, 5% Bossbots, 10% Boardbots, and every Cog that spawns has a 5% chance of being an executive.
Silly Street, which connects to Ye Olde Toontowne. The Fisherman is a yellow duck named Billy. Its Cog population is 20% Sellbot, 20% Cashbot, 20% Lawbot, 20% Bossbot, and 20% Boardbot. Its Cogs have a 10% chance of being executives.
Wacky Way, which connects to Daffodil Garden. It used to have a white kiwi named Fruity as its Fisherman, but Fruity was removed from the game a while ago. Its Cog population is 5% Sellbot, 5% Cashbot, 20% Lawbot, 30% Bossbot, and 40% Boardbot. Every Cog on this street has a 5% chance of being an executive.
Loopy Lane, which connects to Mezzo Melodyland. The Fisherman is an orange cat named Droopy. Its Cog population is 5% Sellbot, 5% Cashbot, 40% Lawbot, 30% Bossbot, and 20% Boardbot, with a 5% Executive chance.
Most of the Neighborhood’s Cog Level Range is from Levels 1-4, with the exception of Silly Street, which has a Level Range of 1-3.
Level 1 Cogs can create 1 story Cog Buildings, Level 2 Cogs Tier 1 2 Story Cog Buildings, Level 3 can make Tier 2 2 Story Cog Buildings, Level 4 Cogs make Tier 1 3 Story Cog Buildings. There’s a maximum of 3 Cog buildings per street, and Level 5, 6, and 7 Cogs can appear in buildings.
I’ll only be covering the Cogs that can appear on the streets, however.
You can encounter Cogs up to Level 4, allowing you to meet the following Cogs in battle on the Streets:
Cold Caller: Sellbots. Levels 1-5. Has a blue, cube-like head.
Honorifics: Mr.
Likes: Air Conditioning, Ice Cubicles
Dislikes: Space Heaters, the Cold Shoulder
Cold Callers have the following attacks:
Freeze Assets: Summons a cloud to bring gloomy snow down on a single Toon.
Pound Key: Takes out a rotary phone and bounds the keys on it, sending # (pound) signs at a single Toon.
Mumbo Jumbo: Attacks a single Toon with a barrage of meaningless business jargon that goes flying out of its head and swarms the Toon.
Telemarketer: Sellbots. Levels 2-6. Resembles a white man with a scrunched up, angry face.
Honorifics: Mr.
Likes: Persistence, Phone Books, Strong Signals
Dislikes: Caller ID, Hang-Ups
Telemarketers have the following attacks:
Clip On Tie: Yeets a clip on tie at a single Toon’s neck.
Rolodex: Sorts through a rolodex, leafs through a rolodex, sending a barrage of rolodex cards at a single Toon.
Finger Wag: Wags a finger at the target, hitting a single Toon with a barrage of “Blah!”.
Pound Key: Same as before.
Name Dropper: Sellbots. Level 3-7. Pink head with purple hair and massive lips.
Honorifics: Ms.
Likes: Alphabetical Order, Friends in High Places, Rolodexes
Dislikes: Fact Checking, Nobodies
Name Droppers have the following attacks:
Razzle Dazzle: Holds up a stick with a smile on the end in front of her mouth, launching a ring of sparkles at a single Toon.
Rolodex: Same as before.
Synergy: Wiggles her fingers and sends out a wave of dollar signs at all the Toons. Any Toons the attack hits are lifted about a foot into the air and then dropped to the ground. Accuracy is calculated separately for each Toon, meaning it can hit some Toons without hitting ALL of them.
Pick Pocket: Steals a dollar from the pocket of one Toon. As Toons don’t use dollars as currency, this attack only causes the Toon to lose Laff, no Gags, Jellybeans, or Gumballs are lost. The Cog does not regain HP by using this attack either.
Glad Hander: Sellbots. Levels 4-8. Large, round head with pale skin and a large, toothy grin. Also have massive hands.
Honorifics: Mr.
Likes: Enthusiasm, Handshakes
Dislikes: Joybuzzers, Sweaty Palms, Weak Grips
Glad Handers have the following attacks:
Rubber Stamp: After inking up the stamp, they press it against the air in front of them, sending the imprint of the stamp at a single Toon.
Fountain Pen: Squirts a stream of ink at a single Toon from the tip of the pen.
Filibuster: Cog stamps their fist in their palm, sending a string of legal jargon at a single Toon.
Schmooze: Same as filibuster, but the words are now compliments. Painful compliments that cause damage on impact, but still compliments.
Short Change: Cashbots. Levels 1-5. Light blue, smaller recolors of Cold Callers.
Honorifics: Mr.
Likes: Hoarding Cash, Skimming Off the Surface
Dislikes: Checks, Exact Change
Short Changes have the following attacks:
Water Cooler: Squirts a single Toon with a stream of water from the water cooler’s spigot.
Bounce Check: Bounces a pay check along the ground towards a Single Toon’s face.
Clip On Tie: Same as before.
Pick Pocket: Same as before.
Penny Pincher: Cashbots. Levels 2-6. Red, thin head with a scrunched up angry face.
Honorifics: Mr.
Likes: Pocket Change, Clipping Coupons
Dislikes: Holes in Pockets, Mark Ups
Penny Pinchers have the following attacks:
Bounce Check
Freeze Assets
Finger Wag
Tightwad: Cashbots. Levels 3-7. Green, short heads with scrunched up angry faces and massive hands.
Honorifics: Mr.
Likes: Bouncing Checks, Counting Cash
Dislikes: High Payments, the Holidays
Tightwads have the following attacks:
Fired: Wiggles their fingers at a single Toon, sending tiny flames to burn them. (Note: Does not inflict any status effects.)
Glower Power: Literally glares daggers at a single Toon.
Finger Wag
Freeze Assets
Bean Counter: Cashbots. Levels 4-8. Green, thin head under a bowler hat. Their faces are angry and scrunched up.
Honorifics: Mr.
Likes: Accounting, Calculators
Dislikes: Know-It-Alls, Losing Count, Things Not Adding Up
Bean Counters have access to the following attacks:
Audit: Punches the keys of an auditing machine with a sheet of paper coming out, sending the symbols on those keys flying out at a single Toon.
Calculate: Same as Audit.
Tabulate: Same as Calculate.
Write Off: scribbles something on a clipboard, then sends a checkmark flying at a single Toon.
Bottom Feeder: Lawbots. Levels 1-5. They’ve got blue, flattened head, trash-can lid-like mouths that open on a hinge (causing the upper half of their head to go flying open every time they speak), banana peels on their heads, and five-o-clock shadows.
Honorifics: Mr.
Likes: One Man’s Trash, Leftovers
Dislikes: First Dibs, Recycling
Bottom Feeders have the following attacks:
Rubber Stamp
Shred: Puts a sheet of paper through a paper shredder, sending the shreds at a single Toon.
Water Cooler
Pick Pocket
Bloodsucker: Lawbots. Levels 2-6. They are literally vampires.
Honorifics: Mr.
Likes: Dark Nights, Drinking a Pint, Easy Prey
Dislikes: Silver Spoons, Garlic
Bloodsuckers have the following attacks:
Eviction Notice: Throws a rigid sheet of paper with a red seal stamped in the bottom left corner at a Toon, flattening them if it hits.
Red Tape: Throws a roll of red tape at a single Toon, briefly restraining them on impact.
Withdrawal: Draws some sparkly bits out of a single Toon.
Bite: Cog yeets some wind up chattering teeth at a single Toon, which bites them if it connects.
Liquidate: Cog sends a raincloud after a single Toon, causing it to rain demoralizing words on them and sink them into a dark puddle if it hits.
Pettifogger: Lawbots. Operations Analysts. Levels 2-7. Blue, cylindrical head with a powdered wig and fogged up glasses. Always scowling.
Honorifics: Mr.
Likes: Plea Deals, Litigation
Dislikes: Transparency, Sunny Days
Pettifoggers have the following attacks:
Filibuster
Red Tape
Write Off
Finger Wag
Double Talker: Lawbots. Levels 3-7. Have two faces, both showing unhappiness in different ways.
Honorifics: Mr.
Likes: Confuddled Speech, Double Meanings
Dislikes: One-Sided Arguments, Decisiveness
Double Talkers have the following attacks:
Rubber Stamp
Bounce Check
Buzz Word: Cog wags their finger and sends multiple yellow and black “buzzes” at a single Toon to swarm them.
Double Talk: Signature attack of Double Talkers. They send contradictory words to barrage a singular target.
Jargon: Bangs fist on hand to send difficult-to-understand words at a single target.
Mumbo Jumbo
Needlenose: Lawbots. Field Specialists. Levels 3-10. Blue skin. Red hair in a bun. Needle for a nose in the middle of their large, angry faces.
Honorifics: Ms.
Likes: Crochet, Cross Stitching
Dislikes: Thimbles, Bending the Rules
Needlenoses have access to the following attacks:
Rubber Stamp
Fountain Pen
Buzz Word
Pound Key
Ambulance Chaser: Lawbots. Levels 4-8. Purple skin, angry face, wearing a white cap with a purple cross.
Honorifics: Mr.
Likes: Insurance Premiums, Traffic Accidents
Dislikes: Healthy Habits, Waivers
Ambulance Chasers can perform the following attacks:
Shake: User stomps the ground hard enough to shake it for an AOE attack. Toons who dodge this attack do so by jumping repeatedly, while Toons who get hit all trip and do a belly flop.
Red Tape
Rolodex
Hang Up: User presses keys on an oldfashioned landline phone, then hangs up, damaging a single target.
Conveyancer: Lawbots. Levels 4-8. Metallic, cylindrical head with goggles revealing their absolutely terrifying eyes, above an equally terrifying mouth.
Honorifics: Mr.
Likes: Mass Production, Real Estate
Dislikes: Inefficiency, Indecisiveness
Conveyancers have the following attacks:
Legalese: Bangs fist in hand, sending wave of legalese at a single target.
Eviction Notice
Rolodex
Jargon
Flunky: Bossbots. Levels 1-5. Cute, rounded, pyramid-esque head with massive glasses covering a frowning face.
Honorifics: Mr.
Likes: Menial Labor, Strong Frames
Dislikes: Complicated Tasks, Being Looked Down On, Tutorial Tom
Flunkies have access to the following attacks:
Pound Key
Shred
Clip On Tie
Pencil Pusher: Bossbots. Levels 2-6. Their heads resemble the points of no 2 pencils.
Honorifics: Mr.
Likes: Getting to the Point, Staying Sharp
Dislikes: Erasers, Pens
Pencil Pushers have the following attacks:
Fountain Pen
Rub Out: Erases something off a clipboard, causing a single Toon to briefly disappear, one body part at a time, if the hit connects. (Again, Cog attacks don’t inflict debuffs, so this just deals damage.)
Finger Wag
Right Off
Fill With Lead: Pencil Pushers’ signature attack. They stick a pencil (not their head) into a pencil sharpener and barrage a Toon with the shavings.
Yesman: Bossbots. Levels 3-7. Same exact head as Glad Handers, but smaller.
Honorifics: Mr.
Likes: Agreeable Statements, Staying Positive
Dislikes: Disapproval, Rejection
Yesmen have the following attacks:
Rubber Stamp
Razzle Dazzle
Synergy
Tee Off: Hits a golf ball towards a single Toon’s head.
Micromanager: Bossbots. Levels 4-8. Tiny women.
Honorifics: Ms.
Likes: Small Scale Problems, Butting In
Dislikes: Being Corrected, Proper Supervision
Micromanagers have access to the following attacks:
Demotion: Sends sparkles at a single Toon.
Finger Wag
Fountain Pen
Brainstorm: Sends a thundering storm cloud after a single Toon, raining words on them.
Buzz Word
Con Artist: Boardbots. Levels 1-5. Small, gray head with a big grin and a French beret.
Honorifics: Mr.
Likes: Theaters, Smoke and Mirrors
Dislikes: Slow Decisions, Split Paintbrushes
Con Artists have access to the following attacks:
Bounce Check
Schmooze
Fountain Pen
Mumbo Jumbo
Pick Pocket
Connoisseur: Boardbots. Levels 2-6. Big mustache, monocle, and a tophat on top of their head.
Honorifics: Mr.
Likes: Fine Oil, The Arts
Dislikes: Amateur Hour, Disproportions
Connoisseurs have the following attacks:
Half Windsor: Yeets a tie at a single Toon’s neck.
Jargon
Brain Storm
Finger Wag
Mumbo Jumbo
Swindler: Boardbots. Levels 3-7. Thin, cylindrical, gray head in a bandit’s mask. Also have a mustache in the middle of the scrunched up, scowling face.
Honorifics: Mr.
Likes: Suckers, Deception
Dislikes: Common Sense, Being Exposed
The attacks?
Bounce Check
Hang Up
Rolodex
Pick Pocket
Middleman: Boardbots. Levels 4-8. Two faces with big, toothy grins.
Honorifics: Mr.
Likes: Taking a Cut, Negotiating
Dislikes: Two Man Jobs, Direct Selling
They’ve got access to the following attacks:
Re-Org: Reorganizes a single Toon’s head.
Rolodex
Synergy
Razzle Dazzle
Because I’m tired of recounting Cogs I’m going to save the building exclusive Cogs for the next post. Thankfully, future neighborhoods will NOT introduce as many new Cogs at once, which will give me WAY more breathing room.
That said, there is ONE Cog who can only be found on Toontown Central’s streets.
Duck Shuffler: Level 5 Cashbot Manager. He wears an unkempt Cashbot suit. Red duck head with a slot machine in place of his eyes, tongue sticking out of his toothy bill, lever for the slot machine sticking out of the side of his head, and several playing cards sticking out of the top of his cap. Real name: Buck Ruffler.
Honorifics: Mr.
Likes: Jackpots, Raising the Stakes, Chips
Dislikes: Poor Odds, Bank Statements, Trouble Hands
The Duck Shuffler will patrol a street for 10 minutes. If nobody challenges him, he’ll fly away and choose a new street to spawn on within the next 15 seconds (possibly selecting the street he just flew away from). If challenged to a battle, he’ll automatically spawn on another street in the same neighborhood. The Duck Shuffler will walk through existing Cog battles without joining them. Only one instance of the Duck Shuffler may exist on a street at any one time, though each street can have simultaneous Duck Shuffler instances.
Duck Shuffler groups can be created anywhere in Toontown Central, though they will automatically disband if the leader goes to another Neighborhood.
When a member of the group initiates a battle with the Duck Shuffler, all their groupmates will gain the ability to teleport to the battle. Once the Toon side of the battle reaches capacity, the Group will disband.
All Toons in the Duck Shuffler fight are subject to Content Sync, in order to ensure that experienced players won’t be able to just sweep the fight and ruin the fun for inexperienced players.
The Content Sync is as follows:
20 Laff Soft Cap (with a hard maximum of 28 for Toons at Max Laff, please don’t ask me to explain the formula).
Gag Level 2 Cap (higher level Gags are temporarily downgraded to fit the level cap)
No Boss Rewards Allowed
As long as the Duck Shuffler is present in the fight, Cogs have a high chance of joining. Ordinarily, Cogs will only join fights in Toontown Central to match with the number of Toons, with defeated Cogs being counted towards the cap. Here, Cogs will join the battle as long as the Duck Shuffler is alive and there is a free slot.
The Duck Shuffler ignores all Cog Health formulas. His max HP is instead fixed at 200.
He only has one attack:
Spin: Sends sparkles after one Toon, spinning around them. This spins the target, lifts them in the air, and drops them to the ground.
As a Manager, the Duck Shuffler has access to unique abilities, known as Cheats.
His Cheats are as follows:
Lure Resistance: The Duck Shuffler has a Lure Resistance of 1 round. This means he’ll automatically unlure whenever its his turn to attack.
Wager Management: The Duck Shuffler pulls the lever on the side of his head to activate the slot machine that exists in place of his eyes. This can activate one of the following effects:
Bust: No effect. He did not get three of the same symbol.
Bar: Upon rolling all Bars, gold bars are dropped on both sides of the field, damaging both Toons and Cogs. It is possible for the Duck Shuffler to defeat himself this way.
Ducks: Upon rolling all Ducks, the Duck Shuffler turns all Toons in the fight into Duck Toons and deals 4 laff points of damage to them. The Duck transformation lingers until the end of the battle.
Sevens: Upon rolling all Sevens, the Duck Shuffler will restore 7 Laff to every Toon and 7 HP to every Cog, including himself. This can put all Cogs above their max HP, at which point their health indicators will turn light blue until their HP drops to or below their starting amount.
Jellybeans: Upon rolling all Cherries, the Duck Shuffler will give all Toons at LEAST 20 Jellybeans (more if any of the affected Toons are under the effect of Jellybean Boosters).
When the Duck Shuffler is defeated, he’ll fly away, and Cogs will stop joining the battle. However, Toons will still be under the affect of Content Sync until the battle is over, meaning they still have to defeat the remaining Cogs.
Once a day, the Duck Shuffler will drop a Sweetener. His Sweetener will refresh at midnight (allowing you to claim it again the following day), and your Cog Gallery will tell you when its available.
The Sweetener is as follows:
10 Gumballs*
100 Jellybeans
150 Toon Experience
* There’s a cap on the number of Gumballs claimed from a Sweetener per week. Once you hit 1000 Gumballs from Sweeteners, you won’t be able to collect anymore from Sweeteners until the week is over. Jellybeans and Experience can be boosted by other factors.
Additionally, the Duck Shuffler also has some Very Rare Loot:
Duck Shuffler Sticker
Moneybag Backpack
Every time you defeat the Duck Shuffler, the odds of him dropping one of his Very Rare prizes increase. This will eventually give him a 100% chance of dropping them if you are extremely unlucky. You cannot get duplicate drops.
Additionally, he thpeakth with a lithp, rethulting in hith thpeech looking like thith. Thith ith becauthe of a botched repair job from a fellow Manager.
He was WAY more sane before that incident, but given that he’s more entertaining this way, I’m not complaining.
Every Neighborhood has a Manager patrolling the Streets, and Managers don’t show up in the Cog Gallery until you defeat them for the first time.
Still though, welcome to Toontown Central, I hope this wasn’t too overwhelming.
Next time, we’ll be covering the Sidetasks.
-
I know I compliment the wordplay every time but GOD that’s fantastic and the visuals sound quite creative for all of those.
Also what happened to Fruity??
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