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#Marcus fucking HATES Mickey
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No one warns you that if you play DnD you will be up until 3am watching Mickey Mouses Clubhouse because your DM decided to run a KH crossover campaign and your dumbass decided to run Marcus Mouse, Mickeys artificer cousin who works at the Magic mouae-ke-tool factory.
I have however warned my DM that the MOMENT Pete shows up my character is going to DRAG THE SHIT out of him.
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thefandomboysblog · 2 years
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I FUCKING HATE THIS. MICKEY. WHY?! why did mickey just tell tibby about billy lying about marcus' mom being just injured instead of dead. this isn't going to help. this is going to end so badly and she's going to break their friendship. this is so wrong. i can't.
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absurdthirst · 3 years
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Hi there! I love your Pedro boys headcanons and I just would like to know.... What would their reactions be if you dragged them to Disney World? What's their favorite ride or character to meet there? Please my Disney loving ass needs to know these things!
At Disney World:
Javier: He’s grumpy but it’s really because they don’t allow smoking in the happiest place on earth. How the fuck is he supposed to be happy if he can’t have a cigarette? He doesn’t mind the original Mickey Mouse, admits after awhile that he watched the cartoons when it was younger. 
Ezra: Epcot is where Ezra loves to spend his time. The entire appeal of traveling around the world going to different areas is pretty cool, even if it’s commercialized. He also like the Misson: Space ride. 
Mando: Millenium Falcon: Smuggler’s Run. Although he doesn’t like the Storm Troopers that are constantly around. Although he still prefers the Razor Crest. 
Catfish: He hates the crowds that are at Disney. They make him a little nervous for obvious reasons. Even with the security that the parks provide, he will be a little on edge just like most veterans. 
Modern Tovar: This grump faced Spaniard actually likes the Pirates of the Caribbean ride. He gets to sit and its dark, they’ve actually made it seem fun. Plus the cannons firing always makes you jump so he can chuckle at you. 
Agent Whiskey: His favorite character would be Belle. Don’t look too closely at why he enjoys the sweet, brave woman who loved a beast. Nope, don’t look at that at all, or why he always calls you his Belle. 
Max Phillips: He hates Disney World.....seriously hates it. Allllllll this fresh food and you won't even let him have a taste!!!! He’s pouty and sulking, but he does love the rollercoasters. Any of them. 
Marcus Pike: He’s kind of sucker for this place. His favorite place with wherever you are. He’s kind of partial to Ariel from The Little Mermaid. He likes her yearning for love. 
Modern Oberyn: All of them. Oberyn’s favorite thing at Disney is people watching. The characters and rides are far less interesting to him than watching the families swirling around the two of you and making observations to you with an indulgent smirk. Thank God you are staying on resort because if you spot something you like, he’s buying it. 
Dave York: Murder daddy may look like he’s not having fun, but he actually does enjoy himself. You and his girls freaking out at Disney is something that makes him smirk as he watches. He loves the Magic Kingdom, simply for how the three of you react to everything. It’s really a case of your happiness equals his happiness.  
Marcus Moreno: Pandora is his favorite area and his favorite ride is the Avatar Flight of Passage. He loves when he gets to fly with the toys from the Heroics but there is something magical about the ride that he just loves. He also loves Ariel. It was Missy’s favorite movie when she was younger and The Little Mermaid holds a special place in his heart from all her Halloween’s dressed up as her. 
Max Lord: He likes the Indiana Jones Epic Stunt Spectacular. Alistair also loves it and he enjoys watching the live action and seeing the stunts being performed for you in heart pounding speeds. He also loves the feel of Hollywood Blvd. Makes him want to take the two of you out to L.A. to see the real thing. 
Zach Wellison: Kilimanjaro Safaris is his favorite. Just observing the animals and sitting with you on the buses. It’s relaxing and he likes the easy pace of it. Disney can be a little overwhelming with the crowds and this helps get him refocused. 
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Moon City Don't Judge - Chapter 1
1983, NSAS Headquarters, Edinburgh, Scotland
“So this is for the newest Jamestown mission, then? What number are these Yankees on now?”
“Jamestown 85.”
“Oh, well I sure am flattered to be allowed in this late in the game. What did they tell you?”
“They’re trying to look international after the Russians had that mission with the French.”
Heather McKay snorted at that, taking the folder from Marcus and flicking through the pictures of the recent mission that had been broadcast on TV for the whole world to see just how friendly Russia were now.
The image of two astronauts with contrasting flags on their arms made her smirk a little. Since unilaterally declaring independence after World War Two, Scotland had become a far more passive nation, leaving larger countries like the US and the Soviet Union to sort out their own scraps unless they were absolutely needed to step in.
“So, they want to make nice with a passive country.”
“Exactly. I’ve been chatting with Molly Cobb, she’s head of astronauts now over at Houston, expecting one Mr McKay, second Scot in space.”
Heather laughed, nodding as she set the folder down and grabbed her water bottle from its resting spot on Marcus’ desk.
“I thought that was just a trick we played on rookie engineers and astronauts, not seasoned professionals.”
Marcus rolled his eyes, leaning back in his chair and shrugging.
“Messing with Americans is just as fun, even if they are fellow astronauts.”
“Seekers of independence from the crown playing pranks on each other. How mature.” Heather grinned, lifting her jacket from the back of her chair and shrugging it onto her shoulders.
The folder was still open on the table as she gave it one more scan, sighing.
“That’s early as hell to be rising, Marcus.”
“You can sleep when you’re dead, you know that better than anyone, astronaut.”
“Sure do, desk jockey.” The younger woman smiled at him when he gave her a deprecating look, offering him a fist bump as a goodbye.
“Have fun in Moon City, kid.”
Flying to America commercially felt like being stuck in a tin can for hours on end, though Heather was sure if she’d tried to fly it alone, she would have fallen asleep and crashed by now. She spent the time with her seat leaned back a fraction and a personnel file in her lap for the people she’d be working with. She knew Margo from a few years before when she had advised her on how to deal with a young Aleida Rosales and they had kept in touch since, so she passed by her file with ease and moved onto the astronaut section without realising she’d skipped the profile of her newest colleague, Molly Cobb.
With so many names to memorise and personal facts to store away in her head to be used at a later date, Heather barely had the energy to look at Cobb’s profile, her closing eyes skimming the information about the death of Wubbo Ockels before finally shutting as she passed out from exhaustion.
“Mrs McKay? Mrs McKay, we’ve arrived at Houston Intercontinental, it’s time to depart the plane.”
Heather came around to find a made-up flight attendant peering at her and shaking her shoulder gently, lacquered brown eyes focused on hers.
She flinched briefly at the sight before nodding when she took in the woman’s words, sliding out from her seat and looking at her once she’d grabbed her carry on from the overhead bins.
“What time is it?”
“Two in the afternoon, Mrs McKay, you’ve gained six hours.”
“Not Mrs, please, I’m not married.” Heather smiled kindly at the woman, nodding when she excused herself and exiting the plane into the fresh air.
At least, she had hoped it would be fresh. Instead, it felt like the Sahara compared to Edinburgh; the heat turned right up in Texas during June. It made her glad the man who put her through security knew who she was and went out of his way to help her through quickly.
She had a feeling that would be a rare thing in a country where nationalism was rampant. If you weren’t an American in the United States, you weren’t worth anyone’s time.
Luggage claim took longer than security for once, chewing the Scot out fifteen minutes later back into the hot Texan sun where a man in a secret service type suit stood beside an entirely black car with tinted windows.
“Miss Mickey?”
“It’s McKay. You would think with a fancy car service, the ability to say my name correctly would be included in the package.”
“Apologies, ma’am. I’ve been instructed to take you straight to the hotel.”
Heather nodded, giving him her suitcase and guitar to load into the trunk before sitting in the back of the car, relaxing into the comfortable leather after hours upon hours in a spiny airplane seat.
With tinted windows surrounding her, the sun was blocked out to make the rest of the journey easier with less heat, so she was fine to actually talk to the driver when he took off from the airport.
“I didn’t expect so much security around my arrival. It’s almost as if I’m a cosmonaut.”
“No, ma’am, the president was only concerned that the Russians may attack you to start a war with your passive nation.”
She sighed in the back seat, shaking her head as she leaned against the headrest behind her.
“I don’t believe they would. Scotland is no enemy of the USSR.”
“I meant no offense, ma’am, only to say that your head of state agrees with the president. He knows the danger too.”
Heather rolled her eyes at the mention of the Scottish leader, remembering the twelfth head of state from a meeting a few months before. She had much preferred the man who saw her off into space six years before.
“The head of state’s a misogynistic prick.”
The driver didn’t say anything in response, only smiling to her in the rear-view mirror which she found amusing. He obviously agreed but chances were there was a wire in the car to make sure he didn’t criticise his own government. How confident that made her feel about being in one of the two most controversial countries on the planet.
She’d researched the distance between the airport and the space centre before she left Scotland, wanting to make sure she knew her surroundings and not exactly thankful that there was an hour between them.
She had a feeling she’d be relying on her driver a lot during this trip if she were to get anywhere other than the space centre.
The rest of the journey was quiet, what Heather would call typical American scenery of square buildings and grey roads passing them by until they finally reached the hotel. She could see the space centre in all its glory across the road, large and looming over the water beside it.
“Much less attractive than NSAS headquarters, wouldn’t you say?”
“No pretty castles to convert in this country, ma’am. We make do with concrete and glass.”
“Looks like a bunch of grey shoeboxes to me.” Heather scoffed as she took the suitcase and instrument from him, slipping on her sunglasses and hat to avoid the sun above them.
“Maybe you can give them some design tips tomorrow, ma’am.”
She nodded, grabbing her backpack from the seat and throwing it over her shoulder with her guitar case, following him into the hotel once the car was locked and sifting in her bag for the hotel information Marcus had given her so she could check in.
“I have a copy of your booking if you can’t find your own.” She looked up at her driver to find a fresh sheet of paper in his hand and grinned, taking it and handing it to the receptionist when they reached the counter.
“Fucking bless you, boy.”
“Of course, ma’am. If that’s everything you need?”
“Yes. No, sorry, do you know where the Outpost is? My head of astronaut affairs gave me that name for the local pub, but I’m all turned around here.”
“The Outpost is across the road and five blocks to the left, Miss Mickey. You can’t miss the sign.” The receptionist spoke up before the driver could, causing the other woman to nod, taking off her glasses now that they were inside and smiling at both of them.
“Thank you. Kid, I meant to ask what your name is. I hate to have you driving me around when I don’t know who you are.”
“Liam Russett, ma’am, at your service and surely older than you so there’s no need to call me kid.”
Heather snorted at that, shaking her head as she hooked her glasses on the collar of her shirt.
“Well, if that’s true, you should get yourself a new job rather than driving around child astronauts.”
“It’s a pleasure, ma’am, really. You have my number for when you need driven somewhere. Have a nice night, Miss McKay.”
“You too, Liam.” She waved to him and grinned when he waved back, turning to talk to the receptionist.
“Hi, sorry for making you wait.”
“I’m used to it, don’t fret. Okay, Miss Mickey,”
That pronunciation wasn’t going away anytime soon.
“…you’re booked in for the next week and two weeks after your return, courtesy of NASA, but you can stay for longer after your mission if you should wish to set that up. Here’s your key and if you’re joining us for the full breakfast tomorrow, we start serving at 8am.” The woman behind the desk smiled kindly, getting another bright smile from Heather as she shifted her bags into the elevator to the side of reception.
“I’ll probably catch a donut at the centre tomorrow, but I will keep the breakfast thing in mind for another day! Thank you!” She called over her shoulder as the doors shut and she started going up to the sixth floor.
Looking at herself in the mirror, she felt like a cat dragged through a hedge backwards. Her hair was sticking to the side of her face with the sweat, the hat plastering part of her fringe to her forehead when she took it off. Her cheeks were red from the sun too and it occurred to her that she’d need sun-cream if she was going to be stuck in America for longer than a day.
As she stepped out onto the right floor and shifted open her hotel room door with a bit of struggle, the phone on the table started ringing.
Heather groaned, shutting the door behind her once her stuff was inside and picking up the call quickly, putting the receiver to her ear.
“Heather McKay, who’s calling, please?”
“Heather, you got there okay, good. How was the plane trip?”
“Hell, I’d honestly prefer a fucking Saltire shuttle.” The young woman expressed to Marcus on the other side as she flopped down on the mattress, glad for the comfort.
Her fellow astronaut laughed on the other end of the call, leaning back on his own armchair.
“Christ, worse than Saltire? Aren’t I glad I volunteered you for this mission and not myself?”
Heather rolled her eyes, staring out of the window that stretched her wall. The sky was a perfect blue with the sun shining down on the city, reminding her of decent summer days at home when she’d kick up sand on the beach. It was a relaxing memory to think about after the long journey.
“Yeah, aren’t you fucking lucky? I’m gonna head for the Outpost tonight with my guitar, try and make friends before I show up tomorrow.”
“Your social skills have come a long way since I met you.”
“And as soon as our leader and their leader aren’t bastards, I’ll be much more sociable!” She sighed, sitting up and going to the window to look across the roofs of the shoeboxes across the road.
“I don’t believe that but you’re Molly’s problem for the next month, not mine.”
Heather grinned at his words. She knew what he meant. Out of the first two Scots in space, she was far more foul-mouthed and quick-witted than Marcus, and it had definitely been a problem in the past.
“Don’t you worry, Marky, I’ll make you proud. Say hi to Laura and James for me.” She bid him goodbye before hanging up, returning the phone to its holder, and skimming through the tourist information book in an attempt at finding a place to eat after the hellish plane ride.
In the end, she had settled for a burger from the van outside NASA headquarters, sitting on a stone wall in front of some flower beds and enjoying watching so many engineers and scientists pass by, chatting away about their work.
Science was one half of her busy life and she loved it. Being at NASA was just the cherry on top of her career now, even if she wasn’t a fan of the politics the agency let itself get caught up in.
She listened to the chatter until her burger was a mere wrapper crushed in her hands and was surprised by the time on the clock outside the hotel. She sure hadn’t realised she’d been sitting there for that many hours but keeping a low profile and being jetlagged clearly passed the time faster than she thought.
Heading back up to her room, Heather changed into a fresh t-shirt and flannel before wandering over to the Outpost bar once she ran a brush through her hair. She could feel people eyeing her as soon as she walked in, clearly sticking out like a sore thumb as someone who they’d never seen before.
No one recognised her yet, thankfully. She didn’t need “socialist Scot scum” comments when she just wanted to drink and play her guitar. She let herself look at the astronaut souvenirs in the glass case by the door then approached the bar, smiling at the woman she certainly recognised as Karen Baldwin from the file about her husband.
“Hi, what can I get for ya?”
“A dram of your best Scots whisky, please.”
“Taste of home coming right up. Haven’t seen you around here before.”
“I’m new, start tomorrow. Thought I’d show my face and try to make friends before going to the moon with this lot.”
Karen nodded, the recognition clicking in her head as she slid the whisky to the younger woman.
“McKay, right? Ed was talking about you. First Scottish woman astronaut, and you changed the law on gay rights, didn’t you? Pretty ballsy.”
Heather shrugged, sipping her whisky and relishing in the burn going down her throat for a moment before speaking.
“And yet folks here in Texas would probably see me hung for it, at the very least fined 500 dollar for kissing a lady in public.”
“Some people never want to let go of their traditions, we’ll get there.” Karen smiled, nodding to the guitar strapped to her back with a slight grin.
“If you’re looking to make friends, you should play. They like music.” She told her with a wink before moving along to serve the newest patron in the door.
The young Scot looked around the bar once before taking her advice, sitting at a table in the corner near the counter and starting to play.
“Ring of Fire, good idea.” Karen mouthed to her from the bar, praising her choice of an American song as the front door opened again, none other than Molly Cobb walking through it and smiling at Karen, giving a brief wave.
“A beer, please, Karen.”
“Love is a burning thing… and it makes, a fiery ring…”
She could feel eyes on her, practically every pair in the bar turning to look at her eventually while she played. Usually, the attention didn’t bother her but the distraction of feet approaching her made her fingers tremble slightly on the strings.
Heather didn’t like being such a close focus of attention. She was used to the crowd having boundaries, being on a stage or a higher platform where they couldn’t reach her, but as she finished the song a few minutes later with every person in the bar staring at her, she could feel a wave of nerves run through her.
Molly was right there, sitting right there with her beer in hand and sunglasses pushing her hair back from her face, blue eyes focused on Heather.
“You’re good.”
“I practice.”
“Haven’t seen you around here before.”
Heather laughed in a light tone, strumming the cords of her guitar slightly. This woman had no idea that they were colleagues, that they had first woman of her nation in space in common. She was looking right through her.
“Oh, I just like the astronaut knick-knacks at this bar, plus I thought I’d try to impress the great Molly Cobb with my playing. Did you like it?” She tilted her head, acting as if she were simply an awestruck citizen and not reporting to duty for the woman the next day.
“Well colour me impressed, though that may just be the alcohol.”
“I’d like to see you do better. Your skills seem singular to flying.” She smirked, wondering how long she could get away with her secret identity.
Taking another sip of her whisky, Heather watched the other woman over the lip of her glass. She sure looked a lot more attractive in person compared to the photo in her information folder, but she wouldn’t act on that fact. It would put them both in danger for her to flirt in public here.
Even friends could turn on Molly if she got that close to another woman, Heather knew that.
“Yeah, and what other skills can you boast, sweetheart? Lemme guess, you can play two instruments.”
Oh, you bitch.
“First impressions aren’t your thing, are they? Don’t worry, ma’am, I’ll report for duty first thing tomorrow morning in your office, even if you’re a smug bitch. My name’s Heather McKay, by the way.” She held out her hand for Molly to shake as an introduction and smiled kindly when the older woman sighed, shaking her hand.
“Heather McKay, first Scottish woman in space. Marcus told me you were a Mr.”
“Wee trick we like to play on new recruits from other countries, he thought it would be funny to play it on a Yank.” Heather downed what remained of her whisky before ignoring Molly and waving to Karen as she left the bar.
“See you tomorrow, boss.”
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racointeura · 6 years
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