the-pickpocket

Pepip

Normal / Flying
Abilities: Runaway / Pickpocket

Classification: Little Bird Pokemon
Height: 0′08″
Weight: 3.6 lbs
Locale: Urban, Rainforests

Stats: +Speed, +Sp.Atk, -Def

Movepool:
Scratch, Peck, Pluck, Thief, Trick, Gust, Feint Attack, Gust, Confuse Ray, Screech, Taunt, Charm, Odor Sleuth

Pepip will use its charm to capture attention from its target, while its companions will swoop in from behind to steal the target’s food. It is extremely protective of its tail feather.

anonymous asked:

are you and boop still writing that secret fic of yours? i'm really curious about it!

Indeed we are! Here, want a very tiny piece of the opening? @boopifer is fabulous to write with. :-)

And now I have to go teach!

##

The magician’s too attractive.

That’s Chris’s first thought, watching him.

Okay, maybe that’s not Chris’s first thought. The first thought contains a lot more incoherent stunned flashing images involving nudity and long legs and those quicksilver hands playing tricks across bare skin.

The too attractive thought comes next. He pauses, frowning. A few passersby bump into him, then glance at his face and his shoulders and his federal agent stance. They ricochet away in various stages of hurry. New York City, home of illusionists. Broadway shows and street performers. Pickpockets and fantasists. Dreams. And Chris’s badge tucked away under his coat: reality.

The street magician laughs, keeps up cheerful patter, flicks cards around on his table. He’s good; he’s attracted a small crowd, not an easy feat in the bustle of New York City. He’s getting someone to pick a card, any card. When he slips it back into the deck he smiles, and the world spins faster for a moment.

Again: too attractive. Disarmingly, distractingly so. An asset when defrauding customers. Chris inches closer. Tells himself it’s his job. Federal agent and all. Special Investigations. Right.

A small piece of his brain reminds him that this, specifically, is not in fact his job. Harassing random street performers–no matter how lovely their eyes are, an elliptical shade of water-grey that tantalizes old artist’s instincts–is not his assignment. No.

Gün olup beni seveceği düşüncesiyle avunamazdım. Gençtim, romantiktim ama,aşkı zamanla büyüyüp gelişen bir şey olarak göremiyordum. Maddelerine uyulacak bir anlaşma değildi aşk..ya bir bütündü, sizi tümüyle içine alırdı ya da aşk değildi , başka bir şeydi belki , daha mantıklı,daha sakin bir şey. kendine göre yine güzel bir şey… ama o şeyi istemiyordum ben.

Bana da acımakla vakit kaybetme Montjean. Ben hayatta kendi durumumu dikkatle saptadım. ne fazla mutluluğa, ne de fazla acıya yer bırakıyorum. Kendime güvenli ve kararlı bir yüzeysellik edindim. Zevklerim var ama iştahlarım yok. Gülüyorum, ama pek seyrek gülümsüyorum. Beklentilerim var, ama umutlarım yok. Esprilerim var, ama mizahım yok. Çok atağım ama hiç cesaretim yok. Açık sözlüyüm ama içtenliğim yok. Çekiciliği güzelliğe tercih ederim. Rahatlığı da yararlılığa tercih ederim. Güzel kurulmuş bir cümle bence anlamlı bir cümleden iyidir. Her şeyde yapaylığı seçerim!

Henüz hiçbir şeye teşebbüs etmediğim için, kendi yetersizliklerimden haberim yoktu. Bir şeye cesaret etmemiş olduğum için de, cesaretimin sınırlarını bilmiyordum.

Trevanian - ‘’ The Summer of Katya ‘’

one of my favorite vietnam stories comes from my dad whence one time he was travelling by motorcycle with his merry band of american, british, and dutch expats through the viet countryside in like the 80s and they stopped at a small village- one that i’m retrospectively guessing had only really been visited by soviet tourists- and immediately a crowd of fascinated children crowded around their group (half for fun and half expecting money and souvenirs/pickpocketing opportunities, who then started saying “liên xô!!!! liên xô!!!!!!!” (viet for USSR) 

the group linguist, an american, (who was a polyglot who could speak like 7 languages) was pretty miffed by this insinuation and started insisting “no, we are americans. america. england. we are from america and england" 

so the children, (who, i remind you, are of a country that tends to despise the western powers for good reason) sensing this dude’s apparent frustration at being called a dirty soviet, took this as a cue to start chanting "liên xô! liên xô! liên xô!” while the guy insistently repeated back (to no avail) “american. american. AMERICAN" 

at this point he wasn’t able to read the situation and see that these children were annoyingly clever little Charlies, so he took out his US passport and said "no, see. see. i’m an american. American passport." the children grew silent, since, given this presentation of physical proof, they had no basis to keep calling the guy a commie. but then, the group elder- who was probably, like, 12- stepped forward and closely examined the passport. after about what was probably a minute of silence and examination, he turned to his group and proudly announced:

“amazing! this liên xô’s got an american passport!!! how’d that even happen” 

Prestidigitation is the best cantrip

Context: After finding a treasure on our first campaign, the human paladin and tiefling monk began to argue about who should hold on to a mysterious dagger, which I (a half-elf bard) had already pickpocketed from them. After taking down some zombies the paladin noticed I had it.

Paladin: Hey, whats that in your pocket!?

Bard: I’m just excited to see you

Paladin: No! You took the dagger! I’ve been following Morgenstern (Monk) all day! We almost burned down an inn!

Bard: Well, I mean. I am the one who could use a melee weapon that also has ranged magic

Rest of party: *general agreement*

Paladin: No. The only fair way to divide the treasure is to sell the blade and give everyone an equal share of the profit. (To DM): I bitch slap him

DM: Roll

*rolls for 1 damage

Bard (to dm): I make the sound of an airhorn go off in his skull

DM: I need a constitution save

*paladin rolls a 1

DM: The sound of an airhorn vibrates in your skull, knocking you unconscious

*everyone but paladin laughs that prestidigitation managed to incapacitate our strongest player

u know what i love the most about jack wilder

he’s a street kid, that’s p much a given. he’s a thief, a pickpocket, a burglar, a street hustler. he can fight like hell and defend himself against two fbi agents and have you see his getaway driving? the guy also rocks a leather jacket every time he’s not on stage, gets the Death card when he’s called in. if u see him walk past with a scrape ur just gonna assume there’s another guy out there who is currently registering to er

but the second he opens his mouth

purest, sweetest fucking cinnamon roll ever to cinnamon roll

anonymous asked:

Imagine Steve finding out that Sharon is in fact a fully qualified nurse on top of being a spy/secret agent/general all around bad ass

Both of Steve’s hands are occupied with piggybacking Sam, so it’s Bucky who knocks on Sharon’s door. Even though it’s three o’clock in the morning she answers almost at once, dark eyes taking in the scene in one fell swoop: Steve and Bucky, stone-cold sober; Sam, slumped over Steve’s back, mouth against Steve’s neck, so drunk he’s snoring a little.

“What happened to him?” she asks.

“Twisted his ankle,” Steve says. “We were playing rugby a little. Did you know it’s snowing?”

Sharon raises her eyebrows. “I’ll get my first aid kit.”

“And your spare keys to our place?” Bucky requests as she turns from the door. “We only brought one set and Sam pickpocketed Steve and threw them in the Potomac.”

By the time they’re in the kitchen, Sam’s groaning. “My ankle hurts,” he mumbles as Steve gently lowers him into a chair.

“Don’t worry,” Bucky says, leaning down and kissing his forehead. “Sharon’s an RN and she’s here to help.”

“Wait, what?” Steve asks, turning from where he’s filling a large glass of water. “You are? Since when?”

She raises an eyebrow at him from the floor, where she’s unlacing Sam’s boot. “Since 2008.” Steve stares. “You really didn’t know that? Also, this is broken. Get a bucket.”

Watching as Bucky pulls out the biggest mixing bowl and plonks it into Sam’s lap, Steve puts the water on the table next to his elbow. He cringes when Sharon begins to straighten Sam’s ankle and Sam lets out a high keening whine and nearly falls out of the chair. “Catch him,” Sharon says, not looking up and reaching for the splints in her kit.

While Steve and Bucky steady him, Sam moans and leans over the bowl to throw up. “Wait, and how did you know?” Steve asks Bucky.

“We – Jesus, Rogers, you didn’t know? – Sharon and I, you know, talk sometimes. You’re not the only one with friends.”

Bethany was left out due to the fact she dies if Hawke is a mage.

Isabela: Stages a jailbreak with some of her crew and anyone who will help. She does it as stealthily as she can, but more than a few templars are left dead as Hawke and a number of other mages escape. If Romanced: She greets Hawke with a kiss and tells them not to be so careless again. She cackles in delight as they take off on a ship. “We’re all fugitives now, Love,” she croons, “isn’t it exhilarating?”

Aveline: She was trying to figure out a plan to save Hawke when she caught wind of Isabela’s plan. She suddenly stops fretting and mysteriously, only has Donnen stationed anywhere near the Gallows, and he’s drawn away by something else (a pickpocket, so he claims) right before the incident happens. When questioned about it, she just shrugs. “That’s… a real shame. We’ll just be more vigilant in the future.”

Carver: (If prior to Act 2) He tries to act cool about it, but he’s actually horrified and terrified– “Anyone but my sibling, please.” He helps Isabela break his sibling out. He grumbles the whole time and scolds his sibling for being so careless, but he is relieved to have them out. If Templar: helps Isabela by taking up guard by where the pirates are breaking in, and keeps the alarm from being sound. Afterwards, he feigns innocence. Until then, however, he keeps the other templars from abusing Hawke, and from turning them tranquil. If Grey Warden: he hears about it after the fact, after they’re broken out, and has them join him. He’s not sure if he’ll let the other Wardens let his sibling go through the Joining, but he keeps them safe.

Fenris: He’s terrified. He can’t bear to lose the one person he absolutely trusts. When he hears Isabela’s plan, he volunteers. He’s gotten people out of prisons before, and he’ll do it again. He helps Isabela, though he makes no effort to help any of the other mages. He just grabs Hawke and gets them out without a word, though later he gives them a sharp warning to be more careful. If Romanced: he runs away with them, as far away as they can (probably on Isabela’s ship). His scolding is far more panicked, and finally he sighs and tells them not to do it again, pulling Hawke into his arms quietly. He never wants to let go.

Anders: After the initial rage, he’s at the front lines of Isabela’s break-in, insisting that as much damage as possible be done, and as many mages as possible escape. He’s livid, fueled by rage and vengeance, as the Circle is broken into. When Hawke is rescued, he is happy, though he only calms down after all is said and done, and everyone escapes. If anyone is injured, he tends to their injuries proudly, and praises all involved repeatedly. If Romanced: Justice takes over, and a trail of blood follows as more templars than expected are slaughtered. Later on, when Hawke inquires as to why he’s covered in blood, he just shrugs. “I did say I would drown us both in blood to keep you safe.”

Varric: “Shit!” he curses, and he’s about to try to bribe his way to the top when he hears Isabela. He helps with the plan to break in. He knows the city head-to-toe, and he finds the stealthiest and quickest route in and out of the Gallows. He also buys the best weapons possible for all combatants, and bribes numerous templars to keep away and keep quiet. He joins in, Bianca in hand, and rescues Hawke at any and all costs. He won’t lost his friend. When he tells the tale, it’s even larger than what actually happened. “…and then we fought not one, but two possessed templars and a dragon…”

Merrill: Her blood runs cold when she hears what happened– being abducted by templars is one of her worst nightmares, and now that Hawke… She shakes herself and asks, desperately, what to do. She’s part of the group breaking in, and when she finds Hawke, she cries in relief and hugs them tight. If Romanced: she kisses them, again and again, just so relieved. “Ma vhenan, thank goodness!” Later, she goes on the run with them, and she tries to look at the bright side. “It won’t be so bad, Vhenan! We’ll start our own little clan. It will be fun!”

Sebastian: Is torn apart. He’s devastated that his friend has been taken by the templars, but to break into the Circle would be against the Chantry itself, to which he took vows. He hears about the break-in after the fact, for Isabela was afraid he’d snitch. He’s hurt and confused and wonders about his alliances, and where Hawke should truly be– and about mages in general. If Romanced: He tracks down Hawke afterwards and takes them to Starkhaven with him. They’d be safe there, and out of Meredith’s hands. He wouldn’t be torn away from Hawke again.

Opportunity comes once in a lifetime

Songs on street corners are not enough to fill his stomach, and stealing may not come easy but he does what he must to survive. And then he chooses the wrong person to pickpocket. Or the right person, perhaps.

Or, how Scanlan joined Dr. Dranzel’s Spectacular Traveling Troupe.

[read on ao3]

It’s a full two weeks before the meagre funds he finds among the rubble run out and he is faced with the choice to either starve or try his luck on the streets.

It’s not really much of a choice.

The streets are familiar, at least. Scanlan has played them before, a charming young boy with a flute and a crystal voice on the corner, busking for fun more than anything. People recognize him as they pass, and the few who know him toss him an extra few pennies for his loss, and for a couple weeks, he scrapes by.

Then the pity dries up, and the summer months come and go, and it is not enough.

Keep reading

kaleidoscopegirl  asked:

I mean, obviously it has to be "you know what you're going to like about me..."

Sorry this took forever to get to!!

“You know what you’re going to like about me? Everything”

Sam Drake X Reader (SFW)

You and Sully go way back, he saved you from some horrible men when you were very young, for you to return the favour a few years later when you were much older, him not recognising it was you straight away. You both helped each other pickpocket people and con them out of information for certain treasures and money. But over the years as you got older, your contact with him started to dwindle. You would still chitchat every now and again but not as much, you missed it, he was like a dad to you. One day, as you sat in your room window reading a book when your phone buzzed. You look down to see Sully’s name, texting you to help with a job, if you’re available. You gasp in excitement and instead of texting you phoned him.

“Hey Sully! Long time no…talk?” You chuckle.

“Hey kid! How you been?” Sully says happily.

“I’m great! Yourself?” you placed your book down and got comfy on your bed, happy to hear his voice again.

“Not bad, just in a little bit of a jam…” He sighs.

“What’s up?” you say, your tone dropping slightly. “Everything okay?”

“Yea it just, we need your expertise with some ancient artefact.” He voice perking back up to his usual tone.

We?” you ask

“Ah, yea I’m with a new partner for this one, you’ll meet him soon…” you can tell he turned away “…if you’re up for it that is?”

“Hell yea! Where about are you? And I’ll come on over!” You say jumping up from your bed to go onto your computer.

“That’s great kid, thanks!” Sully sounds excited and he proceeds to tell you where they are.

**

You arrive at your location. Greece. It maybe near the end of summer but the sun was still hot. Back home you were starting to wear jumpers and long sweatpants, but for here you were practically stripping of your clothes it was so hot.

“Hey kid!” you hear Sully’s voice behind you, making you turn and grin.

“Sully! Hi!” you drop your bag and practically jump into Sully’s arms for a hug.

“Oh its great to see you again.” He pulls back, patting your back.

“You too.” You smile, you quickly glance over his shoulder and look at another man, smiling softly at you as he lights a cigarette. “…you are?” you asked politely.

“Oh, yea. (Y/N) this is Sam, Nathans brother.” Sully steps aside waving a hand round to the taller man. Puffing out his top lip a bit before smiling and giving you a shy wave “Hi.” He says. You smile sweetly to him and your eyes quickly study him ‘He’s cute’ Turning back to Sully, you go.

“Nathan has a brother?” tilting your head and raising an eyebrow to Sam “How rude of him not to tell me.” Sam chuckling shyly, while looking away. Head hanging down; then his eyes glance up and look at you, head still hanging down, smiling.

“Okay kid…” Sully chuckles “We need to be professional right now.”

“Right I’m sorry.” You shake your head and turn back to Sully.

“Lets get back to the hotel, I’ll show you the artefact there.” Sully says while turning. Sam standing to the side letting him passed glancing over to you and giving a wink.

You eye Sam up and down as he walks of, tilting your head a little as you study him from behind, puckering your lips ‘I hope that’s not the only artefact I get to examine’ you think, shaking your head quickly, shocking yourself. You quickly jog after the 2 men.

**

After a few hours, you finally decipher the artefact; finding out it is indeed real and that it is indeed from ancient Greek times. Sam and Sully overjoyed they bring out the scotch to make a toast to another successful find. But you kindly declined and left to turn in for the night. Well that’s what they thought. With all the traveling you just wanted to have a quiet night watching the world go back from your balcony. Your room was next door to one of the men. You could still see light illuminating from the room. You have no idea who managed to nab that room, but you don’t let it bother you too much.

The night was cool. Cool enough for you to be in just sweatpants shorts and a tank top, your hair sweeped to one side over your shoulder,  you smile to yourself at how calm and quiet the night is.

“Beautiful isn’t it?”

You dart your head to the left seeing Sam, smiling at you. You laugh.

“Ah…so you’re the lucky winner of that room?” Glancing over to him.

Sam chuckles, walks over to the edge of his balcony and climbing over. “You didn’t answer my question.” He winks.

“Hm? Oh the view?” You glance between the view and Sam “Yea, its gorgeous.”

“Yea I guess the view is pretty nice too.” He looks out over the balcony.

You drop your shoulders and sigh.

“Okay how long have you been wanting to use that line?” You chuckle.

His stifles a laugh and looks towards you. “I’m sure it worked, you’re just not admitting it.”

“You know…I’ve only known you for a day and I still can’t put my finger on what you’re all about…” folding your arms, eyes running up and down him. “I don’t even know if I’ll fully like being around you” you smirk, raising one eyebrow.

He chuckles and smirks a little.

**

Landing hard on the bed in wet kisses, both of your breathing was heavy and full of want. Your hands gripping into his hair and his grip tighten on your waist. He pulls back slightly, eyes locked onto yours.

“You know what you’re going to like about me…?” he says smirking.

“And what’s that?” you say. He leans closer, eyes dark of lust, making you pull back into the bed slightly, eyes widen.

“…Everything” he smirks rather devilishly.

Your breath hitches when his lips crash onto yours. Falling instantly for him, then and there.