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marctekfakenotesolutions · 27 days

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Conclusion

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Explore our latest blog to discover how leveraging a fake note detection machine can enhance your currency conversion processes and safeguard your business. Learn the best practices and benefits of integrating advanced detection technology into your cash handling operations.

#currency counting machines #currency counting machines with fake note detector

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buyfakepropeuronotes · 4 months

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avinashsinghindia · 10 months

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India's No.1 Currency Counting Machines with Fake Note Detector

#youtube #India's Top Selling Money Counting Machine with Fake Note Detector

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marctekcashmachinedealers · 10 months

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dudethatsmyundeaduncle · 4 months

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DP X DC AU Danny & The Little Dead Girl

(title pending lol, Danny and Curare adventures pt 2!) Pt 1 here My AU art

__________________________________________

Monday comes, as it is won't to do, and Danny has to go to school which means the baby halfa has to come to school too.

" ok, so, one rule for today, big rule, you gotta be quiet in class. Uh-"

Danny pulls his phone out of his pocket as their bus hits a pot hole. Sitting right at the front means they catch the momentum first and he has to hold Curaré against his side lest she go flying into the aisle.

A couple voices grumble behind them at the jostling as Danny gets his text to speech open.

" Necessitas ser quieto en clase. ¿Entiendes?" The Google robot lady voice translates for him.

Curaré blinks at him from behind her little paper face mask and looks from the phone to him curiously.

This is the game they've been playing since last night, Danny says something in English robo lady repeats it in Spanish.

Danny doesn't know if Curaré understands how the phone speaks or even that it does but she's giving him her favorite little blank expression so he assumes she gets it. At least, she hasn't really disagreed or disobeyed anything he's asked of her yet so...not gonna look that gift horse in the mouth Danny boy!

School goes well, mostly.

They get through the metal detectors and bag checks at the front entrance just fine. The security guards barely glance at Curaré once they confirm she isn't hiding a Glock or something under her shirt. Which it's kinda sad to know gun control is a cross-dimensional American problem but it's on brand if nothing else Danny thinks.

They get to first period without stopping at Danny's locker and settle down in two desks by the back door. This is Danny's usual spot, well usual as of a month ago, it's mostly empty back here now but Danny used to have a seat partner.

(A seat partner who had a kind of shady tweaker vibe that Danny would have been worried about but that kid went home early one day and never came back so....it's Curaré's seat now.)

The little dead girl looks even littler sat in the desk-chair combo, she can barely see over the top. Danny stacks three dictionaries under her for a boost then he gets her set up with some pencils and paper and the single highlighter he found on the floor his first day here.

Curaré seems vaguely interested in his offerings ,after Danny shows her how to use them to mark the page, and starts creating cautious marks of her own.

She keeps glancing back up at Danny as if to confirm that this is still fine? And he nods his head every time trying to be encouraging as it becomes obvious that nobody taught this kid to write inside Fosters Home for Real life Assassins. Which Danny thinks is poor planning on there part because really? If your Assassin can't write how the fuck were they supposed to leave ominous threatening warnings? Or fake suicide notes? Or any number of written props to flesh out a cover story.

Whatever, obviously the assassins raising Curaré sucked ass all around so he can't say he's surprised but he is majorly disappointed.

As the bell rings for first period a whole slew of teens rush in ahead of the teacher Mr. Berk. Simple guy, grey beard, coke bottle glasses, smells like Vics vapor rub, the works.

He's like the most chilled out version of Mr. Lancer ever so he's alright in Danny's books. Plus he only has one "rule", as long as your butt is in your seat by the time he calls your name for attendance he won't mark you late. In Gotham, where everyone and their brother has enough late marks from shitty public transportion to get detention, it's a pretty sweet rule.

So Mr. Berk takes attendance like usual and only pauses on Danny and Curaré in the back for a brief moment.

Curaré stops drawing and stares down Mr. Berk like he's the T rex from Jurassic park. Frozen in place and without breaking eye contact. He stares back at her completely unphased.

" A small visitor then?" He says.

Danny nods. " My sister"

" Mhm" Mr. Berk says already moving on to the next student on his roster.

Danny breathes out huge sigh of relief, that was so much easier then he expected.

They more or less repeat this exchange the whole day. Mondays suck ass because it's one of the only days Danny actually has all 6 periods, but they make it through 1st, 2nd, and nutrition unscathed.

By lunch time Danny thinks they might actually be home free, if no one is gonna bring up the whole freaking child tagging along with him then he can probably just bring her with him everyday.

Maybe he can find her some work books and she can learn the alphabet? And addition? That's like on track for 4 year olds right? Danny can't remember being 4 but that feels right to him. He will educate the child in his care like the responsible almost adult he is. She will go to college!

At lunch Danny sits them at the back of the school right next to the teachers lounge because it's mostly deserted.

In Danny's exprience the best place to hide is in plain sight. He's been sitting here everyday since he enrolled himself and the teachers have never noticed him. Their way too busy trying to get any kind of break from teaching high schoolers to be concerned.Which Danny is greatful for because he has broken the rule about using his cell phone at lunch 50 times at this point.

Listen he has to do universe research when he has access to wifi! Which he only does at school. The administration should be glad he's using his lunch period to educate himself really.

So they eat by the lounge. Danny has Curaré face away from the door so she can take off her face mask and eat unencumbered.The cut on her face is still gnarly, it looks an almost enflamed purple as it tries it's best to heal.

Danny had given Curaré a little immuno-boost with his own ecto the night before to try to speed up her healing factor. But like any Halfa, basically just Danny's personal experience, you have to nourish the ghost half and the human half in equal parts to heal all the way.

It's not until home room, period 6/7, that the metaphorical straw breaks the metaphorical camels back. or the real straw to the metaphorical camel? Did camels even carry straw? where would it go? Between there humps? Not important Fenton!

Home room was a grade A disaster.

Mr. Perez, Danny's kind of ancient home room teacher, who was for almost all intents and purposes blind, had a freaking nose for trouble. It's like he could sniff out vapes and cell phones as soon as they hit the stale class air. Danny thought this would be the easiest class by far, Mr. Perez wouldn't even see Curaré let alone smell her.

And at first it seems like he doesnt, Mr. Perez takes attendance and skips right over Danny and Curaré with no fanfare.

Danny thinks that's the end of it and starts to breathe easy until 15 minutes before the final bell when Mr. Perez' TA asks him to step into the hallway with her for a second.

Danny generally liked Mr. Perez's TA, her name was Sabrina Kahn and she was the kind of girl Jazz would have hung out with.Straight laced, wore argyle cardigans, read books, the smart sort. She looked Jazz's age too, maybe 21ish and she always rolled her eyes when people gave dumb answers in class.

She looks a little embarrassed to be speaking to Danny which immediately sets him on edge.

" It's okay that you brought your little sister today but, I'm sorry, you won't be able to do that again. A bunch of your teachers made complaints with the front office and Mr. Perez got a call about it ..."

Sabrina had always been nice to him and now she was about to ruin his whole week.

" But Ms. Kahn-" Danny started.

She gave him a sympathetic look " Lemme guess, your parents can't take her to work so this was the next best option?"

Danny closed his mouth and nodded, that was actually a much better lie then he was gonna tell, thank you Ms. Kahn. ( But also Boooooo curse you Ms. Kahn!)

" Here, I know it can be hard to find childcare for metas, especially ones as ah-vibrant as your sister. My brother had the same trouble with my nephew."

Sabrina hands Danny a flyer, it's still warm from the printer, it looks like it's just a screenshot of an email.

"Thanks?"

The TA rolls her eyes, wow a lot like Jazz then.

" It's the address to that daycare and a referral. They only take kids by word of mouth, they're kind of... off the books. But their good people! I hope they can help you Danny."

The paper is on off yellow, as Ms.Kahn heads back into homeroom Danny feels all his hope go with her. Shit, what was he gonna do now? He looks through the little glass window in the door to the back where Curaré sits, she's already watching him. He tries to smile at her, be reassuring, he's not sure it works.

......

When the bell finally rings Danny picks Curaré up and puts her on his hip to avoid her being crushed by the rush of high schoolers who stampede out the door in front of them.

The flyer from Ms. Kahn feels like it's burning a hole through his pocket as they ride the bus towards the Narrows.

Danny cased the house from the flyer with maps street view as well as he could. It showed a skinny sublet house across from a small strip mall and laundrymat.

Inconspicuous sure, maybe even innocent looking but well...you could never tell in Gotham, all the buildings looked sort of evil by default. It was probably because of the gargoyles and the general low level stink fog that seemed to always be out.

The big city™ really made Danny miss the suburbs of Amity Park more then just the regular gut wrenching home sickness. Oh what'd he'd give to take a deep breath of air and not inhale the smell of piss when he walked down the street.

They get off the bus at the corner a block from the daycare.

Danny holds Curaré's hand which makes for slow going but seems like the right thing to do. She's never wandered off but Danny didn't want to give her the opportunity to either.

As he helped her climb the three short stairs up to the house Danny was suddenly hit with a wave of panic.

What the fuck am I doing? Am I really gonna take care of this freaking Halfa ghost baby for the next 18 years? Im not even an adult! I work weekends at BatBurger for minimum wage WTF?

Danny's hands began to sweat and his stomach cramped. Oh fuck, here was the existential crisis he'd been waiting for since he first decided to take Curaré from the leagues super secret baby basement.

Oh shit he couldn't breathe, what was he gonna do! OH fuck think!

What would jazz do? Call child services and offer psychological support. Not Uber helpful in this case Danny didn't know the first thing about psychology and Gotham CPS was actual prison.

What would Sam do? Assassin babies are hella counter culture but maybe find a cool rich eccentric family to adopt them? Nope, not gonna work Danny only knew one eccentric rich girl and she was a whole dimension away. FUCK THINK FENTON!

What would Tucker do? In this situation ask Google, homeschooling is big these days so maybe if you leave her in the apartment while your gone with an iPad-

" Hey you alright there dude, can I help you?"

Danny choked on the end of his anxiety panic badbadbad spiral and looked up.

The front door to the house was open and just inside the threshold stood a younger teen, maybe 16? With the kind of fade haircut Tucker always whined he couldn't pull off and a bright yellow hoodie.

Danny held his breathe for a moment making sure he felt it burn up his lungs and throat before letting out a big sigh.

" Yeah, yeah sorry kinda zoned out there I'm just uh kinda nervous I was told to come here for Daycare help for my little sister?"

Curaré looked at the stranger in the doorway with the same wide eyed blankness she stared at everything with. Funnily enough she was still holding Danny's hand, had held on through Danny's entire mental meltdown too despite the ecto sweat. Danny felt oddly touched by the gesture, even if it was more likely that the little girl wasn't bothered by his crisis then her being sympathetic.

The teen in the Yellow Hoodie raised an eyebrow at Danny as he fumbled the paper from Ms. Kahn out of his pocket to hand over.

Yellow Hoodie took it and looked between it, him, and Curaré.

" You're not a cop right? You have to tell us if you're a cop"

Danny made a face, " no, I'm not a cop! I would never be a cop, cops suck."

" Right." Yellow Hoodie said still suspicious " So you wouldn't mind if I called your referral up?"

" Be my guest dude."

The teen pulled out his phone and made sure to keep steady eye contact with Danny. Who could do nothing except not look away during this, the world's most impromptu staring contest, until Yellow Hoodie put his phone away.

" Just wanted to see if you were bluffing. Sabrina called earlier said she'd sent someone our way but you can never be too careful. Come on in. "

Danny felt the wind go out of his sails for the second time that day, what was with people and making him anticipate the worst.

.....

The inside of the house was old, homey, but old. It had very obviously been well lived in by a few generations of children, easy to see from the scuffed floors, chipped crown molding, and the sheer number of framed photos that hung on the walls.

There were signs of new life about too, some toys scattered on the floor, walls that were covered in butcher paper and crayon as high as little hands could reach, and oddly enough some scorch marks. Although, Danny's supposed that an unlicensed daycare for meta kids worth it's salt ought to have a least a few burn marks. For posterity if nothing else.

" I'm Duke, I volunteer here when I can but the place is run by the Mariscos, Mrs. Marisco specifically. She's been in the game for a long time" Duke nee yellow hoodie said as he stopped them in front of a closed door.

The hand made sign on the door said Office in nice scribbly lettering and it was hung on with a peg and twine. Real kitschy.

Danny could just make out the sounds of kids playing in another part of the house and was a little impressed that Duke had managed to keep Danny from seeing even one tiny tot during the impromptu house tour.

" I gotta go help Izzy with the kids, this is Mrs.Mariscos' office just knock before you go in, she might be on the phone."

Duke nodded to Danny, smiled down at Curaré and disappeared down the hallway.

Leaving Danny and Curaré alone in front of a closed door once again.

Danny looked down at Curaré and she looked up at him, she was characteristically silent.

" This feels like a job interview, did you bring your resume? "

Curaré blinked.

" Yeah, me neither. But I think if we both give her puppy eyes maybe our combined under aged-ness will activate her maternal instincts and she'll be forced to accept us?"

The nerves were back, they had never really left but now they had settled like a rock at the pit of Danny's stomach.

He couldn't bring himself to knock on that office door just yet so he fussed over Curaré instead. Kneeling down he straightened the collar of Curaré's hooded jacket and moveed her little backpack strap back up her shoulder where it had slipped.

" We got this. It's you and me now remember, even if this blows and you have to come to school with me for the rest of year it's you and me." Danny rested his hands on little shoulders and hung his head. " Jeez, I sound like my mom"

"No need to be so nervous Mijo! My Chiqis never met a kid she could turn away."

Danny's neck had never snapped up so fast in his life.

Curaré hadn't been looking up at him at all. No, Curaré was staring up towards the elderly woman floating near the ceiling.

Which was not great, because Danny for all the time had spent in Gotham had never seen another ghost. Not a single one.

Which was unsettling on its own but not bad per se, he'd thought maybe this dimension was just different, not enough spectral energy to manifest a ghostly body.

But no, again nope, this was so much worse.

No ghosts was easy enough to reationalize but one ghost? One ghost meant there was enough spectral energy, one ghost meant something was really really wrong with Gotham.

Because if there was only one ghost in a crime ridden pissed off city like this where the shit were all the others?

--------------------------------------------------

Yo! Just wanted to say thank u for all the support on part 1, did not expect people to like or care about it lol. Anyway back on bullshit, I've had this written for a while but didn't have the insp to post it until now.

Might write more, might not, you get one bat cameo for reading this time ur welcome.

Forgot to add this to the first post, it's in the reblogs, but TLDR Curaré is an assassin from batman beyond.

Note: if you wanna see cool art for this AU check the Danny and the little dead girl tag on my blog!

#danny phantom #danny fenton #dp x dc au #dpxdc #dc x dp #DP x DC #batman #Curaré #batman beyond #duke thomas #danny and the little deadgirl au #i really gotta think of a name for this AU if its gonna be a thing #do i have a plan for this? no no i do not #i have a vague idea about what happens in this universe and no real motivation to write it #batfam

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mariacallous · 10 months

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For Sander van der Linden, misinformation is personal.

As a child in the Netherlands, the University of Cambridge social psychologist discovered that almost all of his mother’s family had been executed by the Nazis during the Second World War. He became absorbed by the question of how so many people came to support the ideas of someone like Adolf Hitler, and how they might be taught to resist such influence.

While studying psychology at graduate school in the mid-2010s, van der Linden came across the work of American researcher William McGuire. In the 1960s, stories of brainwashed prisoners-of-war during the Korean War had captured the zeitgeist, and McGuire developed a theory of how such indoctrination might be prevented. He wondered whether exposing soldiers to a weaker form of propaganda might have equipped them to fight off a full attack once they’d been captured. In the same way that army drills prepared them for combat, a pre-exposure to an attack on their beliefs could have prepared them against mind control. It would work, McGuire argued, as a cognitive immunizing agent against propaganda—a vaccine against brainwashing.

Traditional vaccines protect us by feeding us a weaker dose of pathogen, enabling our bodies’ immune defenses to take note of its appearance so we’re better equipped to fight the real thing when we encounter it. A psychological vaccine works much the same way: Give the brain a weakened hit of a misinformation-shaped virus, and the next time it encounters it in fully-fledged form, its “mental antibodies” remember it and can launch a defense.

Van der Linden wanted to build on McGuire’s theories and test the idea of psychological inoculation in the real world. His first study looked at how to combat climate change misinformation. At the time, a bogus petition was circulating on Facebook claiming there wasn’t enough scientific evidence to conclude that global warming was human-made, and boasting the signatures of 30,000 American scientists (on closer inspection, fake signatories included Geri Halliwell and the cast of M*A*S*H). Van der Linden and his team took a group of participants and warned them that there were politically motivated actors trying to deceive them—the phony petition in this case. Then they gave them a detailed takedown of the claims of the petition; they pointed out, for example, Geri Halliwell’s appearance on the list. When the participants were later exposed to the petition, van der Linden and his group found that people knew not to believe it.

The approach hinges on the idea that by the time we’ve been exposed to misinformation, it’s too late for debunking and fact-checking to have any meaningful effect, so you have to prepare people in advance—what van der Linden calls “prebunking.” An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure.

When he published the findings in 2016, van der Linden hadn’t anticipated that his work would be landing in the era of Donald Trump’s election, fake news, and post-truth; attention on his research from the media and governments exploded. Everyone wanted to know, how do you scale this up?

Van der Linden worked with game developers to create an online choose-your-own-adventure game called Bad News, where players can try their hand at writing and spreading misinformation. Much like a broadly protective vaccine, if you show people the tactics used to spread fake news, it fortifies their inbuilt bullshit detectors.

But social media companies were still hesitant to get on board; correcting misinformation and being the arbiters of truth is not part of their core business model. Then people in China started getting sick with a mysterious flulike illness.

The coronavirus pandemic propelled the threat of misinformation to dizzying new heights. Van der Linden began working with the British government and bodies like the World Health Organization and the United Nations to create a more streamlined version of the game specifically revolving around Covid, which they called GoViral! They created more versions, including one for the 2020 US presidential election, and another to prevent extremist recruitment in the Middle East. Slowly, Silicon Valley came around.

A collaboration with Google has resulted in a campaign on YouTube in which the platform plays clips in the ad section before the video starts, warning viewers about misinformation tropes like scapegoating and false dichotomies and drawing examples from Family Guy and Star Wars. A study with 20,000 participants found that people who viewed the ads were better able to spot manipulation tactics; the feature is now being rolled out to hundreds of millions of people in Europe.

Van der Linden understands that working with social media companies, who have historically been reluctant to censor disinformation, is a double-edged sword. But, at the same time, they’re the de facto guardians of the online flow of information, he says, “and so if we’re going to scale the solution, we need their cooperation.” (A downside is that they often work in unpredictable ways. Elon Musk fired the entire team who was working on pre-bunking at Twitter when he became CEO, for instance.)

This year, van der Linden wrote a book on his research, titled Foolproof: Why We Fall for Misinformation and How to Build Immunity. Ultimately, he hopes this isn’t a tool that stays under the thumb of third-party companies; his dream is for people to inoculate one another. It could go like this: You see a false narrative gaining traction on social media, you then warn your parents or your neighbor about it, and they’ll be pre-bunked when they encounter it. “This should be a tool that’s for the people, by the people,” van der Linden says.

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lovings4turn · 10 months

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☆ strange twist of fate . . . (o.p)

— a simple video shoot for mclaren leads to a lot of previously unexplored feelings about your teammate (2.3k)

+ fully inspired by mclaren’s summer games video, it is my fav thing ever at the moment. nothing stirs up some tension like a game of twister, right?

+ contains very subtle suggestive references. like. one or two sexual jokes. likely not very accurate oscar but, oh well. banner and divider from cafekitsune

the blinking red light of the camera in front of you indicates you’ve started rolling, and second nature (also known as years of media training) causes you to perk up a little as oscar begins to speak. even from his mannerisms, you can tell that he’s gotten far more confident being in front of the camera with you, the two of you building up a comfortable dynamic that you could stick to pretty well.

“alright.” oscar claps his hands together, shifting his weight back onto his right foot. the movement positions him just a little closer to you, his arm brushing against yours briefly. the hairs on your arms stand up in its wake, and oscar runs through the introduction of the video the media team has asked him to deliver.

“so, we’ve got some garden games,” he explains, voice dripping with faux enthusiasm as he turns to you with a coy smile.

the look generates a similar grin from you, something that usually happens when you’re in close proximity to oscar. not wanting to overthink it, you chalk it down to simple nerves. after all, you’ve only been teammates with oscar for six months. despite growing closer to him, it’s no surprise that your body continues to opt for bashful smiles over formulating a proper response.

surely everyone forgets how to speak to their coworker sometimes?

seemingly unaware of your internal monologue, oscar proceeds with his own conversation to the camera, eyes scanning the room and surveying the three games that have been set up for the two of you to play.

“we’ve got twister,” he notes, his accent thick as it wraps around the letters of the word. you ignore the way your brain plays the sound over again, an echo only you can hear. “and some limbo later, then jenga to finish it all off.”

if you weren’t too busy staring at the large, inflatable limbo bar in the corner, you would notice oscar’s eyebrows briefly jump at the sight of the twister mat. the dial sitting next to it on the floor reminds him of just what the game entails, and he swallows thickly.

deciding you should probably make an effort to speak at some point, you fake frustration and cross your arms over your chest.

“i’m pretty sure oscar’s beaten me in every other video we’ve done this year,” you begin, but you’re cut off.

“no, you won the uh- the lie detector thingy,” oscar points out.

it’s true. though you had somehow managed to get through the lie detector challenge receiving only one shock, oscar had absolutely crushed you at the ‘yes/no’ challenge, and managed to beat you in ‘hide and seek’ by somehow procuring the most effective hiding spot in the entire paddock. you don’t even want to remember just how badly you had done answering questions from the british driving theory test.

keeping up the act, you roll your eyes and dismiss him with a wave of your arm. “okay, like, 7-1 then.”

at the sound of oscar’s high pitched chuckle, your face immediately cracks into a grin. it’s as though oscar’s laugh is programmed to make you smile no matter the circumstances, carrying some secret code that rearranges the chemicals in your brain — totally platonically, of course. you tell yourself that he’s just one of those people with infectious laughs, destined to make others join in their delight.

“brilliant!” the director objects, a grin plastered onto her face as the camera cuts, signalling the end of filming for this segment. “that was perfect guys, thanks. if you wanna get ready for the first game for us.”

taking a deep breath, you nod and stride over to your first activity: twister.

similar to the motions you see oscar go through before every race, you make a show of stretching out your arms and neck with exaggerated groans, even shaking out your legs and performing a few deep lunges for good measure.

“just warming myself up,” you joke. “good thing i’m pretty flexible.”

“yeah? i’ll put that to the test, then,” oscar quips, clearly not realising that what he said could be taken in an entirely different way, a way that certainly doesn’t come to your mind the moment the words leave his mouth.

distracting yourself from his accidental innuendo, you move to one corner of the mat and watch oscar spin the dial for you, the pointer whirring around before landing on left hand red. you crouch down immediately and plant your hand onto one of the red dots, tilting your head to look up at oscar. it seems he was already looking, though, a small smile across his face as he rests his hands on his hips.

“your turn, oscar. you’re starting from the other side though,” you laugh, pointing over to the opposite side of the mat to you. “get over there.”

with a mock salute, oscar strides over to the opposing side of the twister mat, eyes locked onto you as he waits for you to spin the dial and administer his fate.

the game progresses as well as you could have imagined, the constant laughter between you two causing your bodies to shake and thus making holding yourself up a lot harder than it should have been. due to the increasingly awkward positions you find yourselves in, a mclaren team member has to step in at one point to spin the dial for you both since you’ve been rendered useless.

at one point, oscar groans softly at his latest instruction which leaves his body uncomfortably contorted. lip between his teeth, he stretches over to place his hand onto the green spot just across from you, granting you with the - undeniably enjoyable - sight of oscar’s toned arm inches away from your face. your eyes trace over the veins that protrude from his arms, splintering like lightning underneath his lightly tanned skin, practically begging your gaze to follow their path.

having your insanely attractive coworker almost hovering over you as he pants and curses was definitely doing nothing to help you keep your focus on the content you were filming, and you prayed to any and every higher being that no one would be able to notice just how flustered you were becoming. you could see the twitter threads and youtube compilations now – y/n y/l/n being flustered for two minutes straight, y/n swooning over oscar, and whatever else the eagle eyed fans could create.

whoever at mclaren had suggested the two of you play twister was going to fucking pay.

you’re thankful when oscar speaks, dragging you away from whatever train of thought you had found yourself following.

“ah, what a stitch up that is!” oscar complains, letting out a few short breaths as he attempts to shuffle his body into a position that is easier to maintain.

in return, you scoff, craning your neck to look at him with indignation.

“are you joking? i’m practically doing the fucking splits, oscar!” you object, nodding down towards your legs which are, to your credit - spread across the length of the twister mat in a way that isn’t entirely pleasant.

“guess the flexibility isn’t working out for you then?” oscar quips dryly. over the past few months you’d become accustomed to his more sarcastic, low-key humour, so it’s no surprise when a short laugh escapes your lips despite your current predicament.

a few more rounds pass without a hitch, but you should have known that fate would not be on your side for too long

“left foot yellow,” someone calls, and oscar looks down towards the mat you’re both occupying.

realisation dawns on you both at exactly the same time: the only free yellow spot lands directly between your legs.

“we can’t be on the- on the same sticker, can we?” oscar asks, voice fragmented through his breathy laughter as he tries to manoeuvre his body into a more comfortable position.

despite the way your heart pounds, you’re laughing too, shaking your head in what could be a gesture of amusement or admonishment depending on who you asked. though you should feel a little bad, you can’t help but laugh at the sight of oscar searching for every possible movement he can make, short groans and puffs of breath escaping his lips at the exertion. in an effort to prevent your mind from wandering further at the sound, you focus instead on the budding ache growing in your arms thanks to minutes of holding your body up in an unnatural position.

it’s no use, though. there’s only one spot he can logically move to.

“oscar, you are not putting your leg there,” you protest, looking up at him with your brows furrowed. your voice becomes almost pleading despite the mirth in your tone. “oscar. oscar, call it quits.”

a flash of contemplation dances behind his eyes as he weighs up just how determined he is to win a trivial game of twister. at his hesitation, your palms grow clammy at the thought of oscar being even closer to you than he is now, and you’re scared that you’ll start to slip off of the mat if your mind doesn’t stop.

“does it have to be that one?” he asks, looking to the team behind the camera for confirmation.

amused, they simply nod, stifling their laughs with tight lipped grins. oscar takes another moment to figure out his next move before he lets out a groan, collapsing onto the twister mat with a breathy laugh. “there, i’m done. we’re done.”

victorious, you relieve your limbs of the strain they are currently feeling and flop down onto the mat yourself, raising your arms up in celebration as you grin widely at the camera.

“that’s one for me!” you shout, looking down to oscar so you can rub your victory in his face.

still on his back, you notice his eyes have fluttered shut and his chest rises and falls quickly as he catches his breath, cheeks flushed from the exertion. if the garish colours of the twister mat were not directly beneath him, you could almost allow yourself to imagine another, less innocent activity was the explanation for his fatigue.

taking a few moments to catch your breath, the two of you sit on the mat in a comfortable silence before oscar forces himself up, offering you a hand and helping you to your feet carefully.

the universe must have taken pity on you, as the rest of the video thankfully progresses with little problem at all. limbo is no contact at all, and being shorter than oscar gives you even more of an advantage, to his chagrin. your downfall is suggesting that your final round - jenga - be ‘winner takes all’.

lesson learned: never underestimate oscar piastri’s jenga skills.

overall, the shoot itself lasts maybe half an hour before you’re quickly dismissed by the camera crew, free to do whatever you please for the next few hours before more media duties call your name. it makes sense for you both to walk back through the paddock together, so that’s exactly what you do.

a comfortable silence blankets you both for a minute or so, before oscar speaks.

“so,” he starts. though there’s an easy smile on his face, you can’t help but note a subtle hint of nerves in his voice. it’s a realisation that scares you a little.

oscar had never really been nervous to speak to you. a little awkward, when you first met, sure, but his tone had never been laced with anxiety.

you’ve made him uncomfortable, you worry. he noticed how you were looking at him during the video, noticed you were staring. fuck, fuck, fuck. you’ve ruined it.

“so,” you return, resisting the urge to wring your hands together like a chastised school pupil. “that was uh, an interesting idea, from mclaren. making us play twister.”

oscar nods and wets his lips. he seems to be weighing up his response carefully, and you brace yourself for whatever accusations he’s about to throw your way.

“yeah,” he agrees. “fun, though. think i definitely would have won, if you didn’t make me call it quits,” he teases, knocking his shoulder against yours. the unexpected movement causes you to stumble, and you laugh indignantly before shoving him back.

“what was i supposed to do?” you counter. your fingertips begin to tingle, heart beating a little faster as his words involuntarily bring to mind the memory of his body so close to your own.

a cheeky grin rises to oscar’s lips, and though he shrugs, his next words are anything but casual.

“i don’t think you would have minded having me in between your legs.”

shock renders your mind blank as you scramble to come up with some sort of response. how are you even supposed to respond to that? deny it? make a joke out of it? brush over it and roll your eyes at him? nothing seems to be an appropriate response.

it seems oscar is enjoying your dumbfounded state, and if you weren’t floundering so much you would kill him for how much he was enjoying your misfortune.

“what do you mean?”

stupid.

like the little shit he is, oscar only shrugs again.

“just an observation,” he hums, coming to a stop outside of his driver’s room. though you think running away from the conversation seems a little juvenile, your hand hovers over the doorknob of your own room.

before he slips through the door frame, he speaks once more, crooked grin forming the words that would send you reeling for the rest of the day.

“i wouldn’t have minded it, either.”

#.° ༘🗝️⋆₊ becca’s drabbles #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader #formula one x reader #oscar piastri fluff #oscar piastri blurb #oscar piastri drabble

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a-lil-rat · 1 month

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Quick! Someone put the fake suicide note through a plagiarism detector!

#james somerton #fake suicide #suicide mention

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selfaware-bungou-stray-dogs · 6 months

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Bro like we know the normal Genshin impostor sagau but what if it would like with BSD. Like there is an impostor 'Guiding Light' saying the real one is trying somhething and somehow everyone belives (maybe Fyodor, Dazai, and Rampo would be suspicious maybe) and then they realized who is the real one like they would be horrified. (I live for angst)

If somehow Imposter managed to convince BSD Characters that Guiding Light are fake, and they hurt GL, BSD Cast would be horrified, when they learn the truth. They will do everything, to undo their mistake.

They will destroy the Imposter.

Will shower Guiding Light in presents, will do whatever they want. Even return to BSD World and stay there forever, to pay for their crimes.

Will let Guiding Light hurt them, if it will make them feel better.

......

But, personally, I think, that BSD Imposter SAGAU will be a little bit hard, if not impossible.

And here are my reasons, why

1. Emotions are universal, but not the same.

If Imposter stole GL's phone/ BSD Mayoi account, and start talking to characters through it, they would see, that Little Light changed its color, shape and size.

From "Family love(less). Prologue", where Reader start reading BSD after their relatives read it. Reader are reading the same books.

"And then another Kitsunebi¹ appeared.

This one was purple."

BSD Cast will know, that Imposter are a different person.

____

If Imposter get transported into Yokohama and start telling others about Evil Fake, but, Guiding Light stays in real world and continue reading/watching/playing, that will lead to an interesting situation.

_____

Imposter: And they pretend to be me! They are evil! Please, help me get rid of them.

Suddenly, Little Light appeared and start circling around Fyodor, Dazai, Chuuya, Atsushi, Nikolai and Akutagawa.

GL: New official art are so pretty

Dazai: give Imposter a heavy look Can you explain, why your emotions and thoughts are still coming from the different world?

Imposter: I... Well...

Fyodor: I don't think, that progress has reached that much, that will let you be in two places at the same time.

______

And, if others believe Imposter, but Ranpo, Dazai, Fyodor, Jounou and Ayatsuji don't, BSD Cast will lose a hacker.

_____

Imposter: tell characters, how terrible Fake Guiding Light are

Katai, runs into the room, holding a note.

Note: "Call us, when you finally realize, that this thing is lying to you. Fyodor D., Dazai O., Ranpo E., S. Jounou, Y. Ayatsuji"

Katai: We have lost our leading hacker!

______

2. Characters, that was based in characters, not authors.

Kirako in this AU, before she really became self-aware, were in so sort of stasis.

"Sometimes Kirako heard words from different world. Without abilities, where you, a simple person named [Y/N] live. Where they talk about their interests. And Kirako herd them. She couldn't control what she hears, but, thankfully, she never heard something personal."

If she saw, that Ranpo, Dazai, Fyodor, Jouno and Ayatsuji aren't sure, if Imposter are Real! Guiding Light, she could start questioning The Imposter on trivia she learned about Guiding Light.

All characters, that were based on characters and not authors (minus Sigma, in this AU he is considered an author) have deeper connection with real world and GL.

Naomi knew, that Reader aren't bad, the moment she felt their presence.

Kirako saw visions from the real world.

___Spoilers for unreleased entries___

Gin saw chunks of GL's memories about the past day, when she sleeps.

Karma, after canon chains were broken, got an 'ability' to 'connect' to the real world by will. He would volunteer to observe GL, if Imposter will insist that they are evil.

__And fact from STORMBRINGER___

Adam Frankenstein has a lie detector.

If only Imposter aren't Dazai's level of genius, their lie won't work.

3. Imposter's character

BSD Cast have more or less good understanding of Guiding Light's character. So, as long as Guiding Light don't do this:

GL: What?! They are talking bad about me?! I will burn them! run to find matches

GL: What?! They are a bad person?! I will destroy them! run to find a hammer

GL: What?! Old lady had a bad sigh and accidentally gave me wrong candies, that are normal, have good flavor and I don't have allergy, but they are wrong flavor?! Come here, old witch! run to find an inquisition

They would really be confused, why their 'Guiding Light' insisted on hurting/if not killing/ this person.

____

In real world. GL's apartment

Imposter: pointing at GL They are evil, protect me! Threw them away.

BSD cast is waiting, while Francis and GL are talking. GL show Francis documents (about apartment, birth certificate, ID)

Francis: It's their apartment. We can't throw a person, who have all rights to live here.

Imposter: But... Then kill them! They will do something bad to me! To you!

BSD Cast still didn't do anything

Francis: We and you will move away anyway, they won't bother you. Just forget about them.

Imposter: But... But...

Francis: By the way, since when you became that thirsty for blood?

_____

Important!

BSD Cast may be grateful to Guiding Light, but, if GL start treating them as... accessories, money bags and servants, BSD Cast will leave them.

They won't stand for being treated poorly. They won't keep a toxic relationship.

#self-awarebsd #self-awareau #bungou stray dogs au

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notecountingmachine · 11 hours

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nightmareishomophobic · 3 months

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Hi! I'm gonna try to break down the (canon and not?) Lore of NM is homophobic!

PREPARE FOR A SUPER LONG ASK/RANT /VVPOS!

(TW for internalized and external homophobia and transphobia!)

Nightmare is a closeted gay man. Who suffers with EXTREME internalized homophobia. (From what I think, there's a good chance the villagers were NOT accepting of gay people, so NM has always been in the closet.)

(His brother however, is pansexual! There's a good chance after NM found out, he got even more jealous, but that's not important right now nor has supporting evidence!)

Dust working under NM, has been questioning her identity ever since she received a trans flag. Slowly coming to terms that, she is, a lady. Unfortunately as we've seen in a previous post, NM found out about the flag and yelled at her.

This, also proves NM is canonically a hypocrite. As he's previously stated (via a letter shown to us) that he supposedly doesn't care what his team are or aren't, as long as they still work for him.

Also, when Killer was asked, quote, "🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️❓️" He replied with a simple yes! This could mean, possibly, one of three things.

He's both trans and well, not straight.

He's in support of the LGBTQ+.

He is questioning his gender and orientation.

Either way, he along with the rest of NMs employees, appear to be pro-LGBTQ+ and even all part of it.

Going back to Dust, the sewn trans flag on her hoodie, along with possibly fake eyelashes? (I'm choosing to HC she got them from enby Lust) it looks like she's now canonically Transfem in the UTQV! (Note it's possible the HomophobeNMverse(?) and UTQV could be separate things, I'm not sure how you feel about it lol.)

We've also seen past NM, also known as passive. As normal, the bullying deeply effected him, but he isn't homophobic there, in fact, it's possible CURRENT NM isn't all that homophobic. He's said multiple times, he's 'just spreading negativity' and it looks like he's projecting more than anything. (Also the lie detector said so. When asked if he was REALLY homophobic, it flagged as untruthful!)

So lore— I believe, the main reason he has such bad internalize homophobia, comes from the bullying he endeared, and the things the villagers said about OTHER gay people—Causing him to remain quiet about his own identity. Now corrupted, he's projecting all his hurt, anger, and sadness.

Dust is trans fem, we also know Papyrus is an Ally, as in an older photo—It's implied Papyrus is suggesting to murder NM because he's a transphobe.

There might also be a chance that one of them (Most likely Dust, Killer, and or NM even.) Is a regressor. As we've seen they definitely have heard of it, and both Dust and Killer had a good understanding. It's not often someone knows about the community without having some attachments. However, this has no Canon evidence yet. And it's possible they're just Allys, which is super cool too! <3

Also, flowey has made multiple appearances and claimed to be gay. Meaning he's canonically gay in the HomophobeNMverse as well.

Another thing, NM doesn't like being threatened. Multiple times he's reacted with aggression if someone challenged him. I'm going to guess this also boils down to the bullying.

Also, he can break the forth wall. Seen when his creator was drawing, and he started yelling at it. (Fae don't deserve that, NM, you jerk-)

However, he seems a lot more tolerate of his own team? My guess, is he's either:

Has a teeny, tiny, soft spot in his cold heart for them.

Doesn't think it's worth the effort.

Coward.

All these save for the first one, has supporting evidence.

We don't know too much about Horror, save for the fact that he HATES milk before cereal.

Cross, appears to not be a Canon team member. It's certainly possible he'll come in later, but as of right now? He's not in the equation.

ANNDD with all that said! Everyone seems to have the ability to have hearts in their blush—It's adorable.

Sorry for such a long ask! I'm sure there's typos, I'm suspected dyslexic and apologize! Hope you're having a good day, and love your art! You're super funny, and nice!

🤯😨🤯THEORYSSSSSSS RAAAAAA

(I'll try make more stuff with horror. @hernameishorror can message me and help me. Lol :3( also Cross is not canonly in the bad sanses)

#UTQV #undertale #nightmare sans #dreamtale nightmare #dreamtale #gay #artist on tumblr #homo #homophobia #Trans #Transphobia #Undertale au #Headcanons #Theorys #Lore

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