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ellievickstar · 25 days

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Sinner's Sacrifice

A/N: Here's part 2 of Bloodied Bonds , i'm going for alliteration in the title hahah. it's a lot shorter than the first part i wish i made it longer but i feel like i was stretching it out i know i know it sucks to wait for parts i really wanted it to only be two parts long but i really had a "my story has it's own ideas" moment T^T. I'm so so sorry towards anyone who thought this would be the last part I can assure you I thought that too. I hope you enjoy <3

Summary: As Azriel struggles to navigate a situation where he could lose you no matter what he chooses, take a look into his own heart.

Pairing: Azriel x Reader, Rhysand x Sister!Reader

Warnings: Elain slander, dying, self-sacrificing thoughts

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

Azriel had lost count of how many hours it had been since he had threatened to eventually murder Elain.

And he was losing damned mind.

Every single day he had sat in the chair beside your sleeping form….you were breathing, which was an improvement from the heaving and choking in your sleep that alarmed Madja enough to order the inner circle to start taking turns watching over you. Madja believed that your condition improved because he was finally turning away from Elain, but that was what the bond sensed. Without your mind, your own belief to ensure your heart, your condition was bound to deteriorate again.

And yet you could not wake up so he could explain.

So he could apologise.

So he could beg for your forgiveness.

Everyday without making the decision to let Madja just remove the roots of the flowers seemed like a gamble, but after what had been discovered, what Cassian had caught Elain doing, the entire inner circle was not sure if it would be better to let your relationship go, or let you go.

Both scenarios, Azriel would lose.

In both situations, Azriel would lose you forever and a part of him felt like maybe he deserved it. If you ever woke up, ever wanted revenge to make him feel guilty for what had been done, regardless the fact that it had been out of his control, you would have gotten it in spades when he realised that his ignorance, his belief that he could help just one more person, his blindness to the Elain’s darkness, had caused him a situation that would cost him no matter what he did.

And in that, all he could do daily was hold your hand, and weep.

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

“Go shower Azriel. It’s been three days,” Cassian said softly. The shadowsinger merely moved his head to gaze at his friend who leaned against the door frame. Not out of habit but because he genuinely needed the support. Azriel saw the eyebags under Cassian’s eyes, his tired exhausted expression not far from the one Azriel wore.

When Azriel simply shook his head, bringing his gaze back to his mate, not wanting to move another muscle, Cassian groaned.

“Azriel she won’t die within the time it takes you to take a quick bath, please, you need it,” However, Azriel once again did not move, this time not even deigning Cassian a response. The latter simply sighed before making his way towards Rhys’s office, pushing the door open to see Rhysand surrounded by various books, piles of them in the corner, some of them discarded with pages torn out.

“Rhys…?” Cassian knocked on the slightly ajar door.

Violet eyes met Cassian’s hazel ones and Rhys simply let out a breath before standing, checking the time by glancing at the window behind him, “Ah…it’s dark….I did not notice,” He simply stated awkwardly, moving to gather up some of the books from his desk, no doubt to bring it with him to his and Feyre’s room to further study until the waking hours of the next morning.

It broke Cassian’s heart to see his brothers in such a state.

Broke his own heart to see you lying there completely unconscious, every few days needing Madja to extract flowers from your throat.

The women of the house had isolated themselves to their own rooms. Mor came to your room every few hours to check on you however she stayed in her room surrounded by a similar book pile as Rhys, trying to consult her own oracles of truth to see if they had any answers. Amren had gone over to the summer court with Varian to see if they had any records that the Night Court did not, Nesta looked through the libraries with the priestesses, passing anything she found that may be useful to Feyre who scanned through them.

All this and nothing.

They had come up short.

Contacting Thesan, Helion, even Tamlin to see if there was any connections of the disease to the spring court, had come to nothing. No answers. No solutions.

Finally, as Cassian rounded the corner of the house he entered the room they had been keeping Elain in. There she was chained to the ground staring at the wall. For a moment Cassian would have felt bad for how hollow she looked, however his guilt was quickly swallowed by the anger he felt for what she had done to cause your current state.

“I see how you can help her…” Elain suddenly said, her eyes flitting to Cassian, “When minds connect, when you travel through souls,” She hummed before continuing to fiddle with the hem of her dress. Her cheeks were sunken in and hollow, her eyes now held a sharp and piercing stare instead of the soft glint. For once, Elain Archeron’s true colours were on full display.

At her words however, Cassian froze, his tone dropping to a dangerous timbre, “Do you know how to save Y/N,” Elain hummed, “I’ll tell you….for a price.”

“Do you really think that you are in a position to bargain?”

“She’s running out of time isn’t she?”

Cassian bit down on his tongue, hard. Storming out of the room he slammed the door shut, letting out a pained and frustrated roar.

Elain knew. Or at least there was a possibility that she knew. However, her calm demeanour and unflinching attitude showed Cassian no signs of lies. She knew how to save you but she wanted something out of it.

With a silent prayer, Cassian swore to himself he’d find the way to save you even if he had to pry it out of the memories in Elain’s dead body.

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

“So she knows how to save my sister,” Rhys confirmed, Cassian nodded, “That’s what she claims. If she’s lying then she’s damned good at it, however she’s suggesting a bargain, I didn’t pry into the details she was thinking of.”

Not without Rhysand himself present.

Not without Azriel.

The three brothers looked at each other, Azriel’s hand was holding yours, had been holding yours since Rhysand and Cassian had come into the room saying that they had something to discuss.

“We should ask her what she wants,” Azriel muttered softly, his voice hoarse and raspy from not using it for a while.

“And if she asks for your hand?” Cassian challenged, “Then we’ll find a way to break the bargain like how Feyre and Rhysand did, but for now our focus is to save her.”

It was then Rhysand recognised his brother for once after all this time, the shadow singer who would do anything to keep you safe, the self-sacrificing spy master who would sacrifice himself, his choices just to save you.

“Let’s go then,” Rhysand concluded, standing from his stool, Cassian pushed off the wall he had been leaning against and Azriel graced the back of your hand with a soft kiss before standing, casting you one last glance before following his brothers out. Nesta replaced Azriel’s position on the stool, promising the shadow singer to keep watch of you until he returned.

Following his brothers down the hallway, Azriel’s mind flooded with memories of sneaking down these halls to get away with you, memories of coming home and seeing you in the hallway, collapsing into your loving arms. Thoughts of your love and you consumed him and he shuddered under the weight of his own grief.

He could not lose you.

He would not lose you.

And so as Azriel stepped into the room of Elain’s captivity, levelling her with a glare, inside Azriel knew that he would sacrifice anything just to hold you.

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

A/N: please reply if you want to be tagged in part 3 people tagged in part 2 will not be tagged again in part 3 unless they ask in replies. Thank you <3

Azriel taglist: @kemillyfreitas @going-through-shit @chessebookgirl @helloworlditsmesblo (please ask if you want to be added to AZRIEL'S taglist - this is NOT the same as part 3 taglist)

#azriel shadowsinger #azriel imagine #azriel acomaf #azriel acotar #azriel #acotar #acotar fandom #acosf #a court of silver flames #a court of mist and fury #azriel x reader #azriel angst #rhysand #azriel spymaster

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alexa-fika · 5 months

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Hi again first you're a teacher?? Me too soon 😂

Anyway I thought of another weird idea

A child that can see dead people 🏃‍♀️ and he sees corazon when he's with law

Or any other character

I will write a lot of ideas sorry if it's annoying 😅

🐼💕~

A/N:I am a teacher! Im a preschool teacher, that is why writing this in that aspect is really easy because I see their behaviors and shenanigans everyday. What grade will you be teaching??

Also, absolutely not! I love your ideas they are incredible, it will never be annoying trust me, receiving these makes me giggle and kick my feet like a little girl

Dividers by @/saradika

Clumsy Ghostly Guardians ( Law x gn!child!reader x Corazon)

“Dad, Dad!” The child could be seen once again running through the hallways of the submarine, their screams bouncing off the walls as they ran towards their father

Law looks up from his reading as the familiar sound of his child's footsteps approaches him. He sighs, returning his attention back to the medical journal in his hands.

“What is it?”

“Dad, who is the tall ghost who always follows you around?”

“Tall ghost who always follows me around?”

Law puts down his book to give his child his full attention

“What do they look like?”

He watches as the child changes their focus from him to next to him, attentively staring at something

“He’s really tall, he has funny lips, he has a big coat, and he falls a lot too.”

Law's brows furrow as he is genuinely confused by his child's words. However, Law gets a strange feeling in his gut that what they are seeing is none other than Corazon

“…Did they tell you their name?”

“He said his name was Rosinante, but he said you call him Corazon.”

Law's jaw hangs open as he stares at his child. Law never told his child about Corazón, and the fact that reader knows his real name and even his alias...

When the child had eaten the yuta-yuta fruit, the possibility was always at the back of his mind, but he had always brushed it off, thinking that Corazon was either following Doflamingo or Sengoku.

“...how long have you seen him?”

“Since I ate yuta-yuta”

“Since you ate the....”

Law's face goes pale with shock. He has a look of disbelief on his face

“...did he talk to you?”

“Mmhm, he said dad was the cutest when small, said you still have a gloomy expression now.”

Law's expression softens, and he sits down next to his child, trying to process everything that has occurred. He puts a hand on their head, ruffling their hair

“...what else did he say?”

“He said he’s glad you’re safe, what does that mean dad?”

Law shakes his head, trying to keep his emotions under control. He did not expect to encounter such profound news today. Law turns his attention back to his child and gives them a tight smile.

“...he means that he is happy we are safe. Did he say anything else?”

Law strokes their hair with his thumb

“He said that he is proud of you

Law's cheeks blush as tears stream down his face.

“Ah! Dad, why are you crying? Corazon, do something! You made Dad cry, meanie!”

Law covers his face with his sleeve; he struggles to regain his composure. Eventually, his heart starts to slow, and the tears stop

“Don’t worry about it; I’m just happy, Reader-ya.”

“Ah, Corazon fell again”

“Seriusly?!” He groans

So I did made this gender neutral but in Japan a Yuta is a female spirit medium and I couldn’t find a word for medium that would fall within that 4 or 3 alliteration format that the fruits have other than with yuta, and even that was stretching it but yeah, just wanted to let you guys know 😂.

Taglist:

@imaginarydreams

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heartsoji · 1 year

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Hello. If Requests Are Open I Have One. Tsukishima, Suna And Kenma With A Reader Who Is Kinda On The Thicker Side (Thick, Not Chubby) So She Gets Sexualized And Catcalled A Lot

HQ BOYS WITH A CURVY S/O

a/n: yes! thank u sm for submitting a request ☺︎

warnings: swearing, guys (not the hq guys) way overstepping and making reader feel uncomfortable, fem reader

tsukishima, suna, and kenma x reader

TSUKISHIMA KEI

when something happens to you, he shows his protection subtly, but he really really cares about you

would attack the weirdos and people jealous of your body

he wouldn't be the "don't worry babe, i can fight" kind of attacking guy, but the "beat them up mentally until their spirit is broken" kind of attacking guy

you were doing your work diligently at your desk when suddenly, one of your male classmates stopped at your desk.

"goddamn, girl. being serious is great and all, but would it kill you to show a pained expression every now and then?" he rested his hand on your desk, covering part of your paper.

"pardon?" you asked, not quite comprehending.

"i mean," he smirked, "can't imagine what you'd be like under me if you're so serious all the time. have you ever even felt pain?" he paused. "i can show you great pain and pleasure, babe. just gotta say the word."

you froze, speechless. how were you supposed to respond to that? whilst you were trying to come up with a response, you saw kei getting up out of the corner of your eye.

"well, cutie?" your classmate grinned widely before sliding a finger down your back, making you cringe in disgust silently. "how about it?"

"i-"

"don't you have anything better to do?"

"huh?" the guy turned around to see kei towering over him, a nasty glare in his eyes.

"i said, 'don't you have anything better to do?' are you deaf, or just stupid?" kei asked, an annoyed expression present on his features.

"what the hell are you talking about? you're just a cocky brat, aren't ya?" the guy snarled. "man, i hate people like you. so much confidence with nothing to show for it."

kei paused. "i apologize. i was unaware that you hated yourself that much. things will get better, i promise." he mocked, patting the guys back, causing an angry vein to bulge out of the guy's forehead.

"haha, very funny." the guy muttered. "bitchy beanpole brat."

"alliteration! very good!" kei applauded with a smile before sending him a death glare that could freeze lava. "but seriously, are you such a loser that your ego won't allow a hit?" he then leaned into his ear. "she. isn't. interested. scram. you're just making a fool of yourself at this point."

the guy looked around and noticed everyone staring and whispering, clearly judging him for his creepy ways. he angrily stormed out of the classroom, with kei calling out a, "nice talk! let's do it again sometime," on his way out.

once the guy was fully out of the classroom, kei grabbed a chair and put it next to yours at your desk, plopping down his work as well.

"thanks, kei." you whispered a bit shakily.

he simply gave your hand a reassuring squeeze in response. "let me know if that loser gives you anymore trouble, ok?" he whispered back. "i'll beat him to a pulp." he followed up, a terrifyingly murderous intent in his eyes.

he then gave a smile, though it was still terrifyingly murderous-looking. "verbally, i mean."

SUNA RINTARO

another guy with a tongue that could slice boulders

hes not quite as mean tho, instead choosing to go with the more "protect my girl" stance rather than tsukkis "belittle them and make them feel like tiny little idiots who have no worth" stance

he'd try to embarrass the hell out of them

he's good at manipulating people, after all. he finds their weaknesses in an instant and uses it to his ultimate advantage

and also

he loves your curves

much

he'd definitely come over and like place his hand on your hip or ass or smth to mark his territory

bro hes the only one who gets to say how much he likes your ass?? um who tf is this other dude

he'd probs also try and cause a scene or incorporate humor to make you feel better

you were scared

a guy from the inarizaki cheering section had been staring at you ever since you entered

though you weren't absolutely positive, you felt like you could feel his eyes scanning your curves, and it made you feel like curling away in disgust

you'd lessened your cheering ever since you realized that the screaming made your tits bounce, and his eyes were practically burning a hole through them

once the game was over, you quickly dashed off from the stands to meet rin at the bottom, but the same guy met you down there

"so, hey, i was just thinking that you're like, really hot and have a great body, you know? and not to brag but i kinda have girls drooling on my abs left and right. if we got together, we'd be the ultimate power couple! whaddaya say, doll, hm?"

you scanned the room, looking for rin, but unfortunately, the coach was giving a talk, so rin wouldn't be able to come right away

"um, thank you for your offer, but i have a boyfriend." you politely declined.

he put his hand on your shoulder, and you could feel his thumb searching for your bra strap. you leaned away uncomfortably, but he gripped your shoulder and pulled you back.

"hey, now, its ok. don't think that i didn't see the way you were showing off these pretty assets of yours to me on the stands. you were practically shaking the things in my face! i can take a hint, you know. don't worry. i understand women. you were hinting at wanting to get with me, right? i get it! promise i won't be mad if we start dating the minute you break up with whatever loser you're with right now, doll. i don't need to wait."

"i-"

"hey, bun."

you whipped around to see suna rintaro not-so-gently shoving the guy off your shoulder and wrapping his arm around you, placing his hand right at the curve of your hip, giving you butterflies.

he directed his attention to the guy hitting on you. "'sup."

the guy stuttered for a few moments before regaining his cockiness. "this your girl? sorry, man, but she was actually just hitting on me. she aint loyal enough, i guess."

"the hell?! no i wasn-"

"she definitely wasn't." rin interrupted. "she'd never be into a piece of garbage like you."

a vein popped out of the guy's forehead. he grabbed the collar of rin's shirt.

"say that again."

rin opened his mouth, and for a moment, you thought that rin was going to retaliate, but instead, a piercing shriek ran through the air.

a baby's wail? a crying girl? a dropped mic? no, it was 6"1 inarizaki high middle blocker suna rintaro.

every head in the area turned, and suddenly, at the negative attention, the guy ran off in humiliation, calling out some insult towards you like "you weren't even that hot, by the way" on his way out.

once he was gone, suna picked you up and ran to somewhere with a bit more privacy

once he had found a spot he had deemed private enough, he engulfed you in the biggest, tightest hug, burying his head in your neck

"'m sorry that happened, bun." he murmured into your neck. "and 'm sorry that i interrupted you earlier, and i'm sorry that i wasn't there sooner, and im sorry that i didn't punch that guy in his pathetic, ugly-ass face."

you hugged him back. "it's ok, rin." you squeezed tighter. "i'm just glad you came."

"anyways, at any rate, he had no right to look in your direction, nonetheless insult you!" you felt his fists tighten. "pisses me off."

"and also," he added before moving his hand downwards to squeeze your ass, "i'm the only one allowed to call your body hot. everyone else can just fuck off"

you giggled and sighed into his locks. "ok, rin."

KOZUME KENMA

he wouldn't be one for words

he'd just glare daggers into the other guys body and then drag you away

he liked to call it a tactical retreat

"hey, what grade are you in?"

you looked up from your phone to see a group of what seemed to be some middle school boys circling around you, with what seemed to be their leader approaching you.

"pardon?" you were a bit taken aback. what was even going on?

"shy. cute, i'm into that." the boy smirked. "class 3-2, izumitate junior high soccer team captain, sato emiko."

you froze. junior high? you were being hit on by junior high boys?

you really tried not to, but suddenly, you burst out laughing. "sorry, sorry, but, well, junior high? i'm a 2nd year in highschool!"

you expected him to back down after that, but to your surprise, he kept going. "an older girl, huh.. well, it doesn't bother me if it doesn't bother you. and if im being honest, i don't see why it would." he grinned cockily. "i am a catch, after all."

"sorry, i'm not interested." you declined, trying not to break his junior high heart.

to your surprise, he smirked and started approaching you. how cocky was this kid, anyways?

suddenly, he grabbed a handful of your thigh, though he was quickly met with a slap from you.

"come on," he said, walking towards you. "i know you want me."

but before he could reach for a handful of tit, he was interrupted by kenma shoving his way through the crowd.

he gently took your hand and smiled softly at you before glaring daggers at the boy and walking away.

"h-hey!" the boy stuttered, clearly a bit flustered. "you can't just walk away! who do you think you are?"

kenma turned his head to give another death glare that definitely sent chills down that kid's spine. yeah, the boy would definitely see that in his next nightmare.

once you two were out of earshot, kenma turned to you. "hey, you ok?"

you smiled warmly. "yeah. thanks for getting me, ken."

he turned away. "they were just a bunch of cocky middle schoolers. honestly, where do they get the nerve?"

the rest of the way home, kenma added in abrupt complaints about what had happened throughout the conversation. though he didn't say it, you knew that he was actually kind of scared to grab you out of there, despite the fact that the boys were "puny" and "weak," as kenma had described. you knew that though he wouldn't say, he was worried about you and was caring for you, in his own, unique, kenma way.

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blorbocedes · 2 months

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resharing riddle of rosberg by Will Buxton, because OP who originally posted it deactivated, and it's a very interesting read. since WB recently talked about how he didn't like Nico until they had a breakthrough moment and he realised that's his German sense of humour, this contextualises how people perceived Nico. Buxton wrote on Nico back in 2014, which covers his early GP2 career, the 2014 F1 season and provides a fascinating insight into Nico’s character. Highlights below:

I can’t recall the first time I met Nico Rosberg. All I remember is that I despised him, everything he was and all he represented: the cock-sure, entitled, bolshy son of a world champion. No grace, no humility. Wafting in, a blur of blonde hair and arrogance. A Formula BMW champion yes, but only a few F3 wins and just three years in single seaters gave what I held to be little foundation for such seeming conceit. I disliked him intensely. It got to the point where I held such disdain for him that I would actively seek for our paths to not cross… which was fairly hard given I was PRing the championship in which he was racing. I’d simply ask someone else to grab his quotes for me. They always seemed to be able to pull more out of him anyway.

Nico Rosberg had been quick from the outset, and watching his racecraft develop as the season went on became a growing point of emotional turmoil for me. He was so impressive; seemingly effortlessly rapid and blessed with a precision that was metronomic. But I just couldn’t like him. I wished he’d been a good guy, one I could get excited about. But instead I felt huge sadness that such a wonderful talent had been given to a guy who was apparently such a Class A prat.

I recall the low point only too well. He was breezing past on his way to dinner. His team-mate Alexandre Premat had topped qualifying, and I’d used the staggeringly unoriginal press release headline of “Premat Powers to Pole.”

“Why don’t I ever “power” to anything?” he pointedly sneered as he walked past.

I looked up, trying to figure out what he was talking about. Then it hit, and I wondered why he was being so petty. The headline was simple alliteration. I had probably or would probably use “Rosberg Reigns” at some point of the season on the back of one of his wins. It was just Nico being typical Nico.

“Dick!” I whispered under my breath, just loud enough for him to hear.

Later that night, I needed to talk to his then-PR guy Karsten Streng and hopped into the ART truck to find him.

“Karsten, can we have a chat?”

Out from behind his race overalls jumped Nico.

“Oh, so you don’t want to speak to me then? Huh? What’s that all about? You’d rather speak to Karsten than to me?”

I turned on my heels and walked out.

Karsten ran after me.

“Will, man, you can’t let that get to you. You know he’s only joking, right? Just fire it straight back at him. He’ll love it. He’s really a fun guy… honestly. But if you don’t give it back to him he’ll think he’s got the high ground. He loves a challenge.”

The next day Nico sent some pithy comment my way, so I turned around, flipped him the bird and winked. “Fuck you Rosberg.”

He looked taken aback. I broke out in a cold sweat. This was not behavior becoming of the championship’s press officer. Had I just managed to ruin any relationship I might have had with the man destined to be our first champion?

A smile broke across his face, and we never had a cross word again. Indeed, we started to get on really well. At the end of the season I received a package to my home, from Monaco. In it was an ART team shirt, signed by Nico, thanking me for my support. I had it framed, and it remains one of my most treasured pieces of memorabilia from my career in racing.

Nico was the most savvy driver I ever worked with. Stepping down from the podium after winning the GP2 title, he spoke to the awaiting press in turn, each in their own language. I’d only ever seen him in individual language press briefings, and to see him utilise such cool and calm intelligence so soon after the elation of what was at the time the most meaningful moment of his career left me astounded.

But therein lies the deepest issue with Nico Rosberg. He isn’t just smart. He’s the sort of smart that makes the rest of us question if we’re quite as clever as we thought we were. And at times it can be his undoing.

I’d seen his intelligence and need for the high ground cause him trouble time and time again in interviews, even in the GP2 days. The interviewer would sit down, all smiles, ready to start the conversation. But Nico, fearful of being on the back foot, would fire retorts and wrestle control of the interview back into his own hands. He would put the interviewer at ill ease in order to make himself feel more comfortable with the situation. What resulted was a terrible interview, and the prevailing opinion of Rosberg being precisely the one I’d drawn when first we met: that he was cocky and arrogant. When I came back to journalism in 2008 I had booked a sit down with him at Williams and for the first 2 minutes of the interview, that’s exactly how he was: back against the wall, stand-offish, arrogant, unlikable. I switched off the Dictaphone and asked him if he was going to carry on being a prick or if we could do this properly. He looked sheepish, apologised, and we picked back up with what ended up being a great interview.

All of which led to a question often asked: is Nico Rosberg too smart for his own good?

It’s a question that has come back again this year.

Many will point to Monaco as a stand-out point of the season. I always felt Rosberg was smart enough to pull off that stunt in qualifying, but I never believed he was that cynical or cold. To be a world champion takes more than intelligence and speed. As I argued over Multi-21 last year, while we may hate to admit it, what marks the champions out from the also-rans is the ability to be a complete bastard when the moment arrives. In Monaco, Nico was the bastard and turned that qualifying controversy into a race win that had the ability to completely shift the tide of the season.

That it didn’t, however, is his own doing.

Lewis Hamilton is widely regarded as one of the best qualifiers in modern Formula 1. And yet, with a dominantly fast car at his disposal, he has lost the Pole Trophy to Nico Rosberg, the German amassing 10 poles to Hamilton’s seven. That metronomic precision has played into the Rosberg’s hands on many occasions this season, and more often than not it has given him the upper hand going into the race. On Saturdays at least, Rosberg has proved beyond doubt that he has the pace. But he hasn’t turned that Saturday pace on regularly enough in Sunday’s race.

Mentally, what happened in Budapest was also a tremendous shock. Hungary should never have affected him as much as it did. Perhaps it all comes down to how much brain capacity we consider Nico Rosberg as having, but that August break should have been used to move on from what he perceived as injustice, and start the second half of the season fresh and with total clarity of mind. Rosberg used all of that mindfulness, however, to focus on the negatives and came back to Spa with it still playing on his mind.

That incident on lap 2 of the 2014 Belgian Grand Prix has been poured over to frankly ridiculous degrees. To me, it was a nothing moment. Rosberg could have backed out, Hamilton could have given more room. That both went into it so pathetically ultimately resulted in the damage it did. If Rosberg had truly wanted to teach Hamilton a lesson then he should have gone in hard. That he didn’t is the only reason that Hamilton’s tyre was sliced. Any intent, and Rosberg would have snapped his front wing, bouncing it off the side of the Briton’s tyre. Hamilton would have stormed off into the distance while Rosberg was forced to switch his wing.

I argued at the time that Rosberg needed to embrace one side or the other. He needed to be a hero or a villain, because if he was neither, he risked becoming nothing. And so it emerged after the race that he had told Hamiton he had allowed the impact to happen. A step towards becoming that villain? Perhaps, but it wasn’t enough. And that’s the big sadness of his season. He has been so fast and so consistent, but his inability to pick a side and his attempts at being all things to all people has led to him being left wide open to attack from all sides.

The way he interacts with broadcast crews is an incredible illustration of this. In Monza, in speaking with me on American television he spoke in confident and unashamed tones despite his apparent dressing down by the team over Spa. With the Germans he was the same… almost bullish. And then to the British TV and radio crews, his shoulders slumped forward, his head bowed down, his tone was full of contrition and regret. What he was saying was no different to what he had told the German or international crews, but the way it was said was at total odds with how he had been just 10 seconds before.

Just as in Bahrain at that GP2 finale 10 years ago, I stood in awe. So savvy, so intelligent to his audience… but perhaps, in this instance, a reflection of him trying to be just that little bit too smart.

The thing is, he can be so charming too. He has a dry and sarcastic wit, which can sometimes be played out with a deft finesse. In America and Brazil, he started to have a very subtle jab at his championship rival by adopting Lewis Hamilton’s apparent mot du jour. In almost every interview, Rosberg would drop in a little comment about how “blessed” he felt. Shrewd. Subtle. At times, however, he can be a total child. In Hungary this year I was running from my commentary position to the GP3 podium to conduct the post race interviews. Time is tight at the best of times, but when I arrived at the swipe gates I felt an arm around my waist pulling me back. At first I thought it was an over-zealous security guard. But no. It was Nico, giggling away with a huge grin plastered across his face.

Should he be crowned 2014 Formula 1 world champion, be it through double points or, let’s hope, a barn-storming wheel-to-wheel thriller, some will still argue that Nico Rosberg does not deserve to be world champion. With them, however, I would disagree. Lest we forget, this is the only man who, over the course of a full Formula 1 season, finished ahead of Michael Schumacher as a team-mate. As if to reinforce the point, Rosberg achieved this giant toppling feat not once, but thrice.

His out-and-out pace in qualifying this year has been insurmountable. That he has won the inaugural Pole Trophy is evidence of that. So we know he has the pace, we know he has the temperament to win races, and we know that on occasion he can embrace his inner bastard and drive with the ruthlessness that sets world champions apart.

Nico Rosberg has shown repeatedly in 2014 that he possesses the attributes shared by the best of the best. We should not deny him his glory should he be confirmed as such on Sunday.

#will buxton straight up was writing how nico is a manic pixie dream girl #essential read for nicologists #nico rosberg #will buxton #nicology #longform article

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demetris-cocksleeve · 9 months

Text

Now, hear me out....

I just can't get this idea out of my head:

It's a mini smut series. Each part is for a different underrated 1A boy, but interconnected. There will be two different endings, each with two different outcomes.

As I was getting ready to post this, I realized that the idea was akin to Aberration by @bakuhoes-dumbass , so to be on the safe side, I reached out and got permission. Aberration is so attention grabbing and (personally) keeps the you on the edge of your seat. It's 10x better than anything I'm gonna write for this, so check it out! Thanks again to @bakuhoes-dumbass for giving me the green light!

**Y/n is the new psychiatrist for the Yuei Institute for Dangerous Individuals (YIDI). But she's also the warden's niece -giving her more loopholes to wiggle through than your average psychotherapist. Cue the jailbird shenanigans when they get a whiff of their new toy.

Warnings: Contains slight passive hybristophillia, various talk of criminal behavior and non consensual/dubiously consented to actions and scenarios, do not read if you are sensitive to said topics!

Age Rating: 18+ Minors DNI

Prologue: A deeper introduction to the jailbirds

Let's get to know the inmates, shall we?

Chapter 1: Shoji Mezo- Convicted on multiple counts of gang-related torture; currently serving 3 life sentences with no chance of parole. Time incarcerated: 6 years, 4 months.

In which your first session with the sadist derails an a way you never expected. As it turns out, the jailbirds are missing more than just their freedom.

Chapter 2: Ojiro Mashirao- Convicted on 1 count of 1st degree murder following a confession refusal; currently serving 20 years with no chance of parole. Time incarcerated: 2 years, 9 months.

You survived your first day. What more could go wrong? A lot, apparently. After the surprisingly saucey session (ooh alliteration) with Shoji, you can confidently say you're better prepared for the type of inmates you're dealing with. Or so you thought...

Chapter 3: Tokoyami Fumikage- Convicted for the attempted murder of his best friend, claiming "the shadows told him to do it"; currently serving 15 years with a chance of parole after 5 years. Time incarcerated: 4 years, 8 months.

Your new deal is firmly in place, and you're prepared to do what you agreed to. You just didn't expect your end of the deal to be enforced again so soon. It's all in the name of helping... Right?

Chapter 4: Koji Koda- Convicted of arson, assault, and non-peaceful protesting of multiple animal testing facilities; currently serving 40 years with a chance of parole for $15,000 bond. Time incarcerated: 3 years, 7 months.

Animal rights activists can't be too scary... can they? You're a little less than a month into your new job, and it's going relatively smooth. The deal is going as planned, and you seem to be making progress. Turns out this activist isn't scary after all... He's downright terrifying.

Chapter 5 : Rikidou Sato- Convicted for drug trafficking and the assault of 5 police officers; currently serving 90 years with a chance of parole after 40 years. Time incarcerated: 1 month, 3 weeks, 2 days.

Marking the last day of your first month is your final first session. After today, you can confidently say that you know what to expect with your assigned inmates. That doesn't mean what you're to expect will be easy. Withdrawal really brings out the worst in people, doesn't it?

Epilogue 1: Every action has consequences... Unfortunately, Y/n engaged in the same action with 5 different people. So, which one is the reason for this consequence?

Mentions pregnancy and abortion, if you are sensitive to either of those topics, I'd advise you to redirect to Epilogue 2 for the second ending. Open ended/up to interpretation of the reader. Can be read for any of the inmates

Epilogue 2: Every action has consequences...Unfortunately, Y/n's bleeding heart is her consequence. But for whom does it bleed?

Contains an individual ending for each inmate. 'Pick your own ending' style

"Jailbirds" Coming Soon

Full Masterlist:

Navigation

#ojiro mashirao x reader #mezo shoji x reader #tokoyami fumikage x reader #koji koda x reader #satou rikidou x reader

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decibly · 1 year

Text

Maddie had been out for a walk when it happened. Because Jack had been injured by Phantom because of a piece of flying debris in a ghost fight yesterday (she would never understand the infatuation the Casper High students had with such a monster) she had left her ghost hunting gear at home so he could better defend himself. That, and it was nice to just get out of the hazmat every once in a while.

She was regretting those choices now, as she carefullly surveyed the swirling shades of spooky greens and purples surrounding her. The most likely thing that had just happened was that she had just ended up in the Ghost Zone by walking through a portal, either a natural one or one caused by a ghost with the intent of trapping her. It could also be some sort of ghostly illusion, but Maddie couldn’t think of any particular reasons a ghost that could create illusions would have made one like this, instead of something like tricking her into something like thinking her family was in danger. That possibilty didn’t seem at all likely, so she discarded it.

Maddie stayed there, floating, unsure of how to move through the etcoplasm-tainted air. She must’ve been there for about three hours, constantly creating and dismissing plans that all had no chance of working. Eventually, she just started looking around, trying to see if there was anything even remotely helpful.

As Maddie scanned her surroundings, searching for some sort of exit, she couldn’t help but notice a slowly growing black speck on the horizon. Instinctively, she reached for her blaster, but only found a spare wrist ray. Maddie quickly slipped it on, and aimed it in the direction of whatever ghost was coming over to do who-knows-what to her. If she got out of this alive, she was never leaving the house without at least a basic blaster ever again.

Maddie squinted her eyes so much they were almost screwed shut in order to view the ghost better and possibly identify it. Just as she noticed the white hair, they ghost seemingly put on a vicious burst of speed, almost crashing into her. Maddie fired her wrist ray on instinct, causing the ghost to stumble just as it reached her.

“OW!” Phantom called out. “Not cool, M- Maddie!”

“Phantom,” she growled out.

“Woah, what’s with all the horrible hostility?” It grinned. “See what I did there? Alliteration!”

Maddie ignored the poor attempt to make itself seem likable. It should have figured out by now that she was wise to its tricks, but apparently not. “You injured my husband.”

Phantom frowned. “What? When?”

“Yesterday, during–”

“But that was Skulker! Sure, technically I broke those bleachers, but he was the one who shot me into them! Are you seriously going to blame me for that?”

“It’s not like you tried to stop it. Besides, wouldn’t it be a good outcome for you if one of us were injured?”

“I had no idea he was even there, why would I– well, this is just going to go in circles forever if we let it. Look, to cut this short, do you want a ride back home?”

Maddie glared at the ghost. “No.”

Phantom groaned, dragging its hand down its face. “I’m going to rephrase that, because I don’t think you’ll listen to me under any other circumstances. Let me take you back to the portal you made so that your kids will see you again.”

Her already-intense glare deepened. “Don’t you dare bring my kids into this.”

Phantom floated back about a foot or two, hands held up in mock surrender. “I’m not trying to! I’m just saying, as a fellow teenager, I’d be pretty upset if one of my parents went mysteriously missing in some alternate dimension, and your kids don’t deserve that,” he said placatingly.

Maddie scowled to give her glaring muscles a rest. “You’re damn right they don’t.”

Phantom grinned. “So can I take you home, then?”

This time, it was Maddie’s scowl that deepened. “Still no, ghost.”

It sighed. “I guess I don’t have much of a choice, then.”

Phantom blinked out of the visible light spectrum, and barely a second and a half later she was hoisted up at an awkward angle and flying away at high speed, back-to-back with Phantom in some sort of reverse piggyback.

“STOP, SPECTER!” she screamed, trying to twist her body so that she could shoot her kidnapper. Unfortunately, it took her twenty minutes, which was far too long. By then, when she finally got a half-decent shot in that did more damage than just causing Phantom to flinch and actually managed to free her, the portal was in sight. When Maddie turned around to hopefully do more damage, even with her limited arsenal, she saw it and stood (well, floated) stock still.

“Did you just–”

“Take you where I promised to? Yes, yes I did.” That ever-present grin was plastered across Phantom’s face.

“Impossible, ghosts always lie. You must’ve–”

Phantom cut her off again by vanishing and appearing behind her once more. “Nope, I didn’t! Anyways, bye!”

Maddie was shoved into the swirling green.

#dannymay2023 #dannymay #danny phantom #danny fenton #maddie fenton #ghost zone #maddie just randomly walked into a portal without noticing #and then danny just yeeted her into another one #thats the fic #with an argument in middle for drama

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worseforwords · 1 year

Text

Manchester Memories (Ona Batlle x Reader)

Part two to this fic, I recommend you read part one first.

Did you really just pull an Amy? As if on cue, your phone started ringing: FaceTime, Amy.

“Hey Ames, how’s Par-” “Y/N What the fuck!?” She cut you off. You looked at her questioningly. “What, are you like, eating truffle stuffed golden oysters for breakfast?” She yelled at the screen. You realise she must have noticed your excessive spending on her creditcard. “Yeah, sorry about that.” You started, suddenly looking away from the camera. “I figured I deserved it though, given you just ditched me last moment.” “Hm.” Amy took a moment to consider your argument. “Okay, fair enough. But it has to end here!” “Fine, I’ll stop.” You chuckled. “Seriously though what did you eat?” She asked. “I may have ordered breakfast for two.” You mumbled. “Were you that hungry?” Amy started, before noticing your cheeks starting to flush. “OH MY GOD, you had a guest! You should’ve just started with that. I’d love to financially support your love- and/or sex life!” Amy shrieked. “Amy, Jesus, calm down. Yes I had someone over. It was fun. Now let’s move on, how’s Paris?” You quickly changed the subject. “How’s erm, I feel like his name is Logan, or Levi?” “It’s Lewis, actually. Paris is beautiful, so is Lewis, formidable guy, great in bed, blah blah blah.” She quickly summed up. “Now we’ve gotten that out of the way: TELL. ME. EVERYTHING! Spare no details.” Knowing very well she wasn’t going to drop this, you told her the whole story, starting at the coffeeshop.

“Oh my god Y/N/N.” she said when you had finally finished your story. “What?” “You’re in looove!” She teased. “Wha- no I’m not. I just met her yesterday.” “Doesn’t matter, you are sweet for the Spaniard, mad for the Mancunian, lovesick for lobster-girl, enamorado de la chica española!” As much as you wanted to hang up and hide the smile on your tomato-red face, you couldn’t help but laugh at her quickly devised alliterations. “Shut up, Ames.” You mumbled in between laughs. “Oh man, I’ve only once seen you this flustered before, you’re in deep mate.” She said. “Whatever,” you answered. “I’m only here for a few days anyways.” “Now don’t be like that Y/N/N, you can always move to Manchester. Do it for looooove.” “Okay calm down. I have a life to go back to remember? I’m not like you Amy.” “Well, I’m not so sure about that anymore.” She chuckled. “Anyways, I have to go. Lewis is taking me to the Eiffel Tower. At least promise me you’ll make the most out of the time you have together?” “Yeah, I will. Have fun Ames!” “You too babes, talk to you soon!”

The next two days were spend on cloud 9. Ona had a busy training schedule, but made an effort to text you in between sessions whenever she could. As soon as she was done you’d meet up and hang out the rest of the day. You went on many walks, talked about anything and everything, visited random places in Manchester Ona had never even heard about and just enjoyed each others presence. You were pretty sure you were already gaining abs from all the fits of laughter you two shared. By the evening of the second day, neither of you felt like going out for dinner anymore, and Ona offered to cook for you at her apartment. Her roommate was staying at her girlfriends house, so you had the place all to yourself. You filled up on the Ona’s dinner (which was delicious by the way), before cuddling up on the couch to attempt watching the Lion King again. You actually finished the movie this time which you then, as Ona stated, had to celebrate. You happily obliged, and you spend the night there, leaving your luxurious hotel suite empty for the night.

You woke up to the sound of keys rumbling and the front door opening and closing. You turned around to discover your human pillow was no longer there. You found a note saying: “Off to get us some breakfast. Back in a bit.” You decided to stay in bed, hoping to persuade Ona into coming back to bed. “Ona!” A voice called, that clearly didn’t belong to Ona herself. You panicked, desperately grasping around you in search of something to cover up your nakedness. As you heard footsteps approaching the room you were in, you quickly picked up the nearest shirt you could find, which was the one Ona wore yesterday. You had barely put it over your head when the door flew open. “Ona have you seen my shin p- Oh. You’re not Ona.” The blond girl in the dooropening stated. “That is correct” The both of you were quiet for a second, whilst her eyes scanned over your messy hair, the clothes scattered on the floor and Ona’s shirt you were wearing, which you now realised was on backwards. “You erm, want some coffee or something?” She asked. “Yeah, sure” you said quietly. The blond girl, which you assumed was Ona’s roommate, finally closed the door, giving you some time to actually put some clothes on. You went to the kitchen and she handed you a cup. “I’m Millie by the way.” She smiled. “Hi, I’m Y/N” “So,” she started “you must be the reason Ona has been so absent these past days.” She chuckled, seeing your cheeks flush in embarrassment. Before you could answer you heard the jingling of keys. “Thank god.” You thought to yourself.

“Millie!” Ona shouted, also turning red immediately. “What are you doing here?” “Forgot my shin pads. Good morning to you too by the way” She was now grinning, clearly very amused about what she walked in on. You and Ona exchanged some looks as she mouthed “I’m sorry” to you. “Oh I love this. Everyone is going to hear about this at training later.” Millie teased, winking at you. “Are you bringing her tonight?” She asked, turning to look at Ona. Ona didn’t answer, instead just looking at you with a bittersweet smile. You both knew you had to leave this afternoon, so this was your last day together. “All right then, guess I’ll leave you two to it” Millie said when no one answered her question. After she shut the door you both burst out laughing, letting out all the tension from before. “Sorry about that.” Ona said once she recovered.

You plopped down on the couch whilst Ona started unpacking the breakfast she got you. “We are having a small party tonight. You could come if you want to?” She asked. You hesitated for a bit. “Ona, you know I-” “Please Y/N, one more night?” She now stood in front of you, handing you a plate and looking at you with a shy smile. You’d already skipped your plans to go to Birmingham to extend your Manchester stay, but you had promised to meet up with a friend in London, and you didn’t want to become a true Amy by ditching them. But damn the puppy dog eyes staring into your soul at that very moment sure made becoming an Amy very tempting. You gathered all your self-control: “I can’t, I- I don’t even have a place to stay and-” “Stay here, with me, por favor Y/N I-” She was practically jumping up and down at this point, when her hopeful expression suddenly changed. “I’m sorry, I’m being way to pushy. You don’t have to stay.” She hastily left to grab some cutlery, missing the pitiful expression in your face. “Ona” you said softly, following her into the kitchen. She didn’t look up from the drawer she was rummaging through. “One more night, but I leave in the morning. Bueno?” She turned around, dropping everything she had in her hands and ran towards you. She embraced you as her strong arms easily lifted you up in the air and you wrapped your legs around her waist. “Thank you thank you thank you” she said and you felt her smile into your neck.

The rest of the day went by pretty quickly. Ona went to training, where she’d presumably be interrogated about the discovery her roommate made this morning. You went back to your hotel to gather your stuff and pack your suitcase. After checking out, you decided to do some shopping. You went to a thrift store for a bit, but grew tired of it quickly, remembering you don’t actually enjoy shopping. When you walked back out, you noticed an adorable little jewellery store in the alley across the street. You walked in to be met with the friendliest smile you had ever seen from the elderly woman behind the counter. You looked around for a while, until you laid your eyes on a golden necklace with a little lion on it. “The perfect souvenir.” you thought.

“You ready?” Ona screamed through the bathroom door. “Almost” you answered, putting on your new necklace before opening the door. “You look great. I like the necklace” Ona said upon seeing you. “Thank you, so do you.” You smiled. “You ready?” She asked again, making sure you're okay with going out to meet all of her teammates. “They can be quite intense, just so you know.” She looked ay you questioningly. “I will be fine, Hakuna Matata, no worries.” You smiled softly. She smiled back. “Hakuna Matata.”

“Hi! Nice to meet you, I’m Alessia.” Said the girl opening the door for you. “Hi, I’m Y/N.” You held out your hand but she quickly pulled you into a tight hug. You walked into the apartment to find that chaos had already erupted. Girls screaming random things at each other left and right. “See, I told you, intense.” Ona chuckled at your at your stunned expression. “Now come on, I’ll introduce you”. The following hour she dragged you across the room, introducing you to basically everyone there. Some teasing happened, but for the most part everyone had been really nice. As the night progressed everyone started getting tipsier. The music was turned up and people started to dance. Some of the girls you met earlier dragged you onto the dance floor and you danced with them for a while. When you walked into the kitchen for a drink, Alessia was already there, preparing some snacks. “Enjoying yourself?” She asked. “Yes, everyone is being so nice to me.” You smiled. “Of course we are. We wouldn’t dare be rude to a girl Ona speaks so highly of.” She grinned. “She does?” You blushed. “She does. She really likes you Y/N. She couldn’t stop talking about you at training today.” You smiled softly at her words. “I really like her too.” You said, staring at the ceiling in thought. “But you’re leaving tomorrow, right?” Alessia’s words put you right back down on earth, you felt a knot in your stomach and the soft smile disappeared from your face. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have brought it up. Forget I ever said anything.” She put a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “It’s okay, really, you’re not wrong.” You said, quickly looking away as you felt your eyes starting to water. “I’m just going to get some fresh air.” You hastily turned around, hoping she didn’t notice.

“Y/N?” You heard a familiar voice coming from behind you. The cold air on your skin actually helped, slightly numbing your sadness, as you sat on a bench outside. “Are you okay?” She asked, slowly approaching you. “Here, put your coat on, you’ll catch a cold.” Ona handed you your coat. The cold was no longer numbing enough once you looked into the beautiful eyes that now seemed to be looking into your soul. It simultaneously soothed you and broke you down, ultimately causing you to release a single tear. Ona quickly sat down next to you wrapping both arms around you. “Can you tell me what’s up?” She asked softly. “Tomorrow, I have to go.” You spoke quietly. She hugged you tighter, putting her head in the crook of your neck. You sat in silence for a bit, enjoying her embrace, when you felt something wet in your neck. You pulled away from the embrace to see she was now also getting teary eyed. You cupped her face and you both stared at each other. There was no point in trying to hold it in anymore, and both of you started sobbing uncontrollably. Then, somehow, the sobbing turned into laughter. You sat together laugh-crying for a while before you took a deep breath and said: “Come on, let’s have some fun while we still can, okay?” You finally said, standing up and reaching out your hand. “Yes, let’s do that. Hakuna Matata.”

You went back inside and Ona immediately dragged you to the dance floor, ignoring all the stares from her teammates at your tear-stained faces. The both of you danced like there was no tomorrow, and the rest of the girls joined in. Ona was about to attempt the worm, when the song suddenly changed. You immediately recognised it: Can you feel the love tonight, from the Lion King.

You turned around to see Millie had taken control over the phone connected to the speaker, smirking at the two of you. “You told them?” You chuckled. Ona blushed as you grabbed her hand, pulling her closer to you. You put your head on her shoulder as slow danced together for the whole duration of the song, not noticing how everyone had left the dance floor to leave you two be. When the song was ending you lifted your head back up, but you didn’t break the embrace. You gazed into each others eyes for a bit, before slowly closing the space between you for a slow, passionate kiss. It ended rather abruptly however, when the Spice Girls sudden blasted through the speaker. “No no no, stupid autoplay” Millie sprinted back to the phone to turn it off as fast as she could. “Sorry about that. Don’t mind me, please continue.” You both giggled as she sprinted away again. “Want to get out of here?” Ona asked. “Yes please”

You woke up to the sound of soft snores. You lay there looking at the beautiful girl in front of you for a while, taking it all in one last time, before quietly leaving the bed. You decided against waking her, instead you left a note on her nightstand:

“Thank you for everything, I had an amazing time with you, you made Manchester magical. I will never forget it.

Adéu Ona, Te echaré de menos.

Love,

Y/N

PS: Hakuna Matata”

You put your necklace with the little lion on it next to the note and placed a small kiss on Ona’s forehead. As you opened the door to leave the room, a small ray of light fell on her face. You glanced at the scene a little longer than intended, until you noticed her eyelids had slightly started to tremble. You quickly made your way out, taking a deep breath before closing the front door.

As you walked towards the busstation, you smiled at the sun starting to rise and suddenly, Amy’s words came to mind: “Make the most out of the time you have together.” That you did.

Part 3 out now

#ona batlle #ona batlle imagine #ona batlle x reader #woso imagine #woso x reader #woso #woso fanfics #muwfc x reader #espwnt x reader

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imtrashraccoon · 5 months

Text

I like the interpretation that Phantom Papyrus actually exists but I also really like toying with the fact that Dust is clearly insane. You can decide for yourself if he's real or not.

@owl-bones

First Day, Previous Day, & Next Day.

Bad Sansuary: Dust - Haunted

Word Count: 1,256

Occasionally, you would witness Dust muttering to himself or fixating on a particular spot in the room for long periods of time. It mostly only happened on his bad days but you had pointedly ignored this behaviour as it probably wouldn't help him feel better if you randomly brought it up.

Today though, you were too curious to ignore it any longer. You really didn't want to offend him either though as it would be insensitive to just ask, right?

"what's the matter with you today? you're not usually this...jumpy."

You blinked in surprise and sharply glanced over at Dust, who was currently sitting lazily at your kitchen table for once. He raised a bonebrow and his mismatched eyelights flicked over you before settling on your face again.

Curse his incredible observation skills!

"Sorry, I was just thinking..."

"that's not good."

You huffed and planted your hands on your hips. "Wow... You must be so proud of yourself," you retorted with a heavy layer of sarcasm in your tone.

He grinned and let out a quiet "heh."

"so, what's on your mind?" he asked again.

You chewed your lower lip and picked at a loose thread on your shirt. "I... I don't want to make you upset. It's a bit of a silly question anyways..." you murmured.

His eyelights narrowed slightly in a skeptical way. "i doubt you could make me upset..."

"I really hope not..." you sighed. "Do you...do you regularly talk to yourself?"

Dust hummed quietly and tapped the table with his gloved fingers. He was silent for a few moments and seemed thoughtful.

"well i can see why you didn't want to ask..." he muttered.

"Yeah... But, you don't have to tell me if you don't want to! I shouldn't have even asked..."

He shrugged and waved you off. "no, i insisted...and i'm not upset either, okay?"

You nodded quietly and glanced down at your socks. This was just as awkward as you'd expected it would be. You wished you could crawl into a hole and never come out as long as you lived.

"i know i'm crazy and i know seemingly talking to myself makes me look worse. however, i'm sort of...haunted by my brother."

You stared at him for a moment, unsure of how to react to that information. "Is he like a ghost...?"

"phantom, he prefers the term phantom." Dust sighed and ran his hand over his face before adding, "i don't get why it matters but he likes the alliteration i guess..."

"He talks to you as well?"

"yeah... he gives me advice and keeps me company..." His voice was a lot quieter now and he couldn't seem to look at you for whatever reason.

"I see..." You glanced around the room but didn't notice anything out of the ordinary. While you could see why Dust had been hesitant to tell you as it really did make him look more than a little unhinged, you were surprised by how casually he'd spoken about it.

He acted as if this was a completely normal thing, and for a moment, you almost believed that he really could be haunted by a phantom of his brother. There were so many types of Monsters and there was so much you didn't know about them. Surely ghosts could exist too, right? Still, it was just too crazy to believe...

He was self aware enough to know how crazy it sounded and yet he had still chosen to tell you. He clearly trusted you to some degree if he was willing to be open about this. So, you decided to play along as it was the least you could do.

"What's your brother's name?" you asked.

Dust turned to you with a look of surprise on his skull. His eyelights flickered across your face, likely looking for any sign that you were weirded out by what he'd just told you.

"you're really something else..." he muttered under his breath. In a louder tone, he responded, "his name is papyrus."

At first you wondered if you'd heard him correctly. Axe had told you about his own brother fairly early into your friendship and you'd learned that his name was also Papyrus. Was it a common name among skeletons?

"Oh, that's interesting. Although, I remember that Axe's brother is also named Papyrus," you commented.

Dust's eye sockets widened and he got a look that practically screamed "oh crap..." He quickly tried to mask it a second later and shrugged.

"it's... you could say it's a common name i guess..."

You could tell he wasn't telling you the truth and raised an eyebrow skeptically.

He tried really hard to maintain a poker face but seemingly couldn't under your intense gaze. With a heavy sigh, he tugged his hood further over his skull and buried his face in his hands.

"sorry...i'd really rather not explain the actual reason behind that right now..."

You placed your hand on his shoulder in a comforting manner. "Hey... I'm not upset, but you don't need to lie to me, okay? I understand you and Axe aren't normal people. There's a lot of things he didn't really want to tell me too. I don't mind though, so long as it isn't something that will affect our friendship or hurt someone, okay?"

He nodded slowly but made no effort to respond.

Deciding to change the subject, you asked a different question. "Can Papyrus see or hear me right now?"

"yeah, he can..."

You glanced around the kitchen again but still couldn't see any sign of the Phantom Papyrus. "I wish I could actually see him face to face so we could communicate properly... Is he doing alright?" you asked quietly.

Dust shifted and you noticed his eyelights flickered to a spot just above your head. He stared intently for a few seconds before the corners of his smile quirked up slightly.

"heh... he says he's doing fine and thank you... also, that it would lovely if you could see him but it's not possible."

You looked up where Dust was focusing and then back to him again. The room felt colder all of the sudden...like there really was another presence that you couldn't see.

"You really care about him, don't you?" you asked in a soft voice.

Dust nodded and smiled at you. The corners of his eye sockets sort of crinkled and for a moment he looked like an entirely different person. Someone who in another life was happy.

"more than anything..." he answered.

You pulled out a chair and sat down next to him. "I wish I could say the same about my family, but I'm happy for you, buddy." You smiled and patted his shoulder affectionately.

He frowned slightly at the mention of your family. "i noticed you never seem to talk to them..."

"Yeah...we don't exactly see eye to eye you could say."

"i can't imagine anyone would."

You opened your mouth to answer before shutting it again. "Was that supposed to be a joke?" you hissed.

"depends, was it funny?"

"Not really."

"then it wasn't really a joke, bean."

You stared at him for several seconds in disbelief. "Are you okay? You've been uncharacteristically happy today..."

"kinda hard not to be when you're around," he hummed.

Was he flirting with you? Or were you just that bad at picking up social cues? There was no way he liked you to that extent!

"Well, in that case, I'm glad you're able to be happy. I like spending time with you, Dust."

#badsansuary #raccoons drabbles #undertale #dusttale #dust sans #dust sans x reader #reader #female reader #have some empathy dear #oneshot

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spilledkaleidoscope · 8 months

Text

Kim Skill's Drabble for the Anon who prompted me with writing the skills in an everyday situation.

(very heavy on the skills but I guess that was the point of these lol

(Spoilers for A Cracked Foundation obviously)

Kim pushed his glasses up for what felt like the hundredth time since he entered the store. While it was hot outside as well, there was a slight breeze there, which couldn’t be said about the crowded spaces between the rows of tall, stuffed cabinets.

SURVIVOR - A fire hazard.

Between the humid heat and the constant noise around him, Kim couldn’t wait to leave.

He maneuvered himself into a corner to check his grocery list and was satisfied to see every item in his basket. The cloying smell of artificial fruit aromas made him look to his side where he found a row of big glass jars containing various sweets. The condensation had rendered them slightly foggy.

VICE - Oh fuck yeah!!

Kim couldn’t help but sigh.

It’s not on the list, so I’m not getting it, he shot back and dropped his notebook in the basket for emphasis.

VICE - Then put it on the fucking list? Who cares! They have honey gummies, Kim!!

PROCESSOR - Even just a handful of these confections contain about a fourth of the recommended daily intake of sugar. The ratio between nutrients and price is unsatisfactory.

CONNECTION - Sometimes food can be about memories instead of sustenance.

CONTROL - I’m not a child. Besides, what’s the point of implementing a rule if you are going to break it for something so trivial.

Kim bit the inside of his cheek and wondered if this was something he could ever get used to - mundane everyday tasks turning into discussions inside his head that would divert his attention. Of course, this happened here and there when he was on duty as well, but not nearly as frequently as on his days off.

GEARHEAD - Naturally. After all, work requires you to focus.

CONNECTION - Every part of you.

VICE - Oh my god now you’re just thinking about work?! Fucking- Dolores Dei’s Dick, I wish I was able to scream.

Kim blinked.

CONTROL - What was that?

VICE - You heard me.

CONNECTION - You shouldn’t say that…

VICE - Yeah and you should maybe back me up a bit?!

CONNECTION - But I did-

CONTROL - Unimportant. You’re not saying that again.

RHETORIC - Why? It’s a nice alliteration.

I would really appreciate it, if I could concentrate on finishing up here instead of whatever this is supposed to be. I’m not going to have this slip me while interacting with the cashier.

VICE - You mean “Dolores Dei’s Dick”?

CONTROL - This is not happening.

RHETORIC - I don’t understand the problem. She could have had one.

PROCESSOR - The nature of Dolores Dei’s genitals has not been recorded.

CONNECTION - Can you stop? This is very disrespectful.

VICE - I’ll stop if Kim gets the gummies.

SURVIVOR - People are starting to give you glances. You are being perceived.

GEARHEAD - Presumably because you’ve been intensely staring into your basket for about three minutes.

RHETORIC - No, let’s talk about it. Why would it be disrespectful? Are you trans-phobic?

CONNECTION - Wha- of course not?!

CONTROL - And again I’m arguing with my own brain. Unbelievable.

Maybe I should just leave my basket, leave the store and walk into the Pale, Kim thought as he frowned at a box of flour. Except that in his (and every other human being's) experience, that might make things worse.

PROCESSOR - You could walk into the ocean instead.

VICE - Dolores Dei’s Dick Dolores Dei’s Dick Dolores-

CONTROL - ENOUGH.

A sharp pain shot through Kim’s forehead, so sudden that he almost swung his basket into the glass containers next to him.

CORPUS - Psychosomatic. Unfair.

“Everything alright?”

Kim almost jumped. For a man of his size and the penchant to dress like a peacock, Harry could be surprisingly quiet. Maybe it was the hustle and bustle of the crowd around them that had hidden his approach.

SURVIVOR - Apologies.

Kim answered with a wave of his hand, making the wicker basket at his elbow creak.

“Just a headache.”

Harry knitted his fingers into the handles of his tote bag thoughtfully and cocked his head to the side, eyes fixed on Kim’s. The lieutenant raised one of his eyebrows in response.

“Don’t. We talked about this.”

“Huh? Oh- I..I wasn’t going to, I was just..uhm.”

“Hm. Maybe we should pay and leave, that should give you time to come up with an excuse.”

His glance wandered towards Harry’s tote before he could stop himself. Harry’s expression switched from sheepish to defensive.

“No booze,” Harry said quickly and opened the bag for Kim to see.

VICE - OH HEY!

“I didn’t know you liked those.” Kim pointed at the honey gummies.Harry shrugged. “I don’t think I’ve had them before, I just kinda thought you might like them.”

#a cracked foundation #she attempts the writing of things

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skamenglishsubs · 2 years

Text

Subtext and Culture, Young Royals, Season 2, Episode 1

Season 2 picks up after the Christmas break, it is now early January 2021, and Wilhelm is asleep, dreaming of Simon...

Cinematography: The show does a slow transition from Wilhelm's sex dream by changing the colours from the soft golden light of his dream, to the harsh early January daylight, and by letting the sound of a vacuum cleaner pierce the signature [dreamy electronic music] of his dream.

Subtext: We're seeing Wilhelm move like a ghost through the palace, ignoring everyone, even his mother. He's still angry with her, and they haven't really talked all break.

Blink and you miss it: It's hard to make out, but Erik's silver cigarette case is also inscribed with Sällskapet - The Society, the ultra-douche nobility club.

Cinematography: Just like last season was bookended by a fourth wall break, here comes the opening montage and a very angry Wilhelm staring into the camera.

Subtext: The August montage tells us a bunch of things. He's been spending Christmas break alone at school since he doesn't really have a family to spend it with, and his eating disorder/body dysmorphia sure isn't getting better.

Culture: Simon is playing the song Aldrig Igen by Cherrie, which is about leaving someone who has hurt you. The repeating refrain goes: "Never gonna happen again. I don't want to feel like that."

Culture: Minimum age for getting your driver's license in Sweden is 18. It's getting more and more rare for people to get their driver's license as soon as possible, because it's simply not a necessity for most. When I went to high school last century (in the 90's), about half the class got theirs at that time. These days less than a third get theirs that early.

Subtext: Although Felice didn't really have a plot of her own this season, I'm glad to see that she learned something last season and keeps ignoring her annoying, prattling, mom. That her friend Sara got into the Manor House is much more important than whatever horsey-horse blah her mom is whining about.

Subtext: Madison hands Sara a crystal, of course she's into that. But I'm not crunchy enough to figure out what the hell she means by "among other things". Help. Anyone? What is that even? Amethyst?

Subtext: "Native Americans and other indigenous peoples have burned sage for centuries as part of a spiritual ritual to cleanse a person or space, and to promote healing and wisdom." Thank you Google for that explanation. And of course it's something Madison would do.

Lost in translation: The English translation of their chanting didn't quite capture everything. A literal translation would be "Fine girls, deep pockets, worship our fine pussies!" But fina flickor is an expression that means well-mannered upper-class girls, djupa fickor is a Swedish idiom that means being rich, and these two fragments both rhymes with and alliterates with fina fittor, except the latter is extremely vulgar, which creates an interesting juxtaposition of contrasting tone. Btw, my high school Swedish teacher was the best teacher I've ever had, and I know he would be so fucking proud of me right now if he could see me writing this! Tack, Magnus.

Subtext: And here comes the first mention of this season's main theme; traditions, upholding them, breaking them, examining them... Interestingly enough it's Felice who suggests breaking it, while all the other girls insist that Sara has to continue the tradition. And boy, does she ever. At least the fire department didn't show up...

Subtext: The real reason August didn't join Vincent or Nils on their expensive Christmas vacation to the Seychelles is of course that he can't afford it. But his dismissive joke also just point to his own eating disorder problems. August, get help.

Subtext: When Simon insta-stalks Marcus we get to see a bit of his personality. Apparently, Marcus likes camping, fishing, hiking, horses, and his Volvo. The 850 is a classic 90's station wagon, and although it's pretty unusual for 18-year-olds to own a car in Sweden, something like that checks out and it's probably his car.

Subtext: Vincent is such an ass, and I love every second of it. He has zero respect for the younger students, he doesn't give a shit that Wilhelm is royal.

Subtext: Wilhelm is being an assertive bitch to August here and insists on him addressing him in third person, as if they weren't familiar...

Blink and you miss it: ...which makes Nils and Vincent laugh, and Vincent makes a mocking salute to Wilhelm.

Subtext: But in the end, August is the prefect, so they do as he says and allow the first-years to join the party, even though they have no idea why August is letting Wilhelm get away with it.

Cinematography: This season also does a lot of mirroring where scenes in this season look like scenes in the first season. This particular one mirrors the one where Simon appears at the initiation party for Wilhelm and catches his eye, except it's a lot more sad this time.

Subtext: Oh look, The Theme™ pops up again, and Simon is of course not a fan of keeping the shitty traditions that forced Sara to do something stupid, so that he had to rush to school to check up on her.

Subtext: Wilhelm is an awkward idiot around Simon. He really has no idea how to reconnect with him.

Cinematography: Again, we're mirroring the initiation party in s1 where Simon excuses himself, but this time Wilhelm doesn't chase after him.

Subtext: I'm sorry what now? Nils is not straight? That came out of fucking nowhere, but ok, let's roll with it! Also, whoever subtitled this is obviously familiar with Tinder, but not with Grindr. Nils says that he saw Marcus on Grindr, not that they matched, because that's not how Grindr works.

Subtext: The main theme of the entire show is about social class, if you haven't figured this out by now. Nils is firmly in team upper-class, and tells Wilhelm how he's supposed to handle dating: Only date or hook up with people from your own class, or with people who know how to keep everything discreet, private, and down-low.

Subtext: Wilhelm looks around in confusion, because he expected Simon to be singing in the choir. Where the hell is Simon?

Subtext: Meanwhile, Simon is late and on the bus with his friends on Team Rebound, who are giving him advice that's gonna turn out to be pretty crap.

Culture: Padel is so middle class, Vincent is right! Padel surged in popularity in Sweden in 2021 for some weird reason, and tons of padel courts popped up all over the country. However, the hype completely crashed in 2022, so most of those places are now facing bankruptcy and people actually talk about padeldöden - padel death, so the sport is kind of a joke right now.

Subtext: Wilhelm puts on the most fake smile ever and says hi to Alexander who is back at school. They were all correct when they said that Alexander really wouldn't get punished for getting caught with the drugs, his parents simply bribed the school to hush it down, but their treatment of Alexander will backfire spectacularly on Wilhelm later in the season.

Subtext: The show is doing a bit of exposition here, but it's also reminding us of who knows what about the sex tape, and why Wilhelm hasn't told Simon that he knows who did it. One more thing that will backfire spectacularly.

Subtext: And in a quick throwaway comment we learn that the late prince Erik had a thing with a porn model, and that the royal court successfully swept that whole thing under the carpet, as they do.

Subtext: The rest of the girls thoughtlessly let Sara pick up the tab for their coffee, which is nothing to them, but for Sara it's half her savings. She's treating them without protest, but doesn't buy anything for herself because she simply can't afford it.

Subtext: Don't sit next to him, don't talk to him, pretend he doesn't exist! Simon is really trying to follow the advice of his friends.

Cinematography: Oh look, a mirroring of the scary movie scene where they touch hands in season 1. Except this time Simon jerks his hand away.

Subtext: The Theme! This time it's Wilhelm who's on team fuck the traditions, although he's doing it just to undermine August.

Lost in translation: Vincent actually uses the word kladdiga - sticky, smudgy - about their hands, which in Swedish implies they're all toddlers who should sit down and shut up while the adults are talking.

Subtext: No, Wilhelm really didn't stick up for anyone last season, he threw Alexander under the bus, and he threw Simon under the bus, so we're just heaping on the guilt now.

Subtext: And we're doing some more exposition to remind everyone about who knows what about the sex tape. Here Sara finds out that August knows that Wilhelm knows it was him, and he's blaming her for telling him, even though she hasn't told anyone. Not even Simon, speaking about things that will backfire spectacularly.

Subtext: Sara's plotline is gaining steam, much like she did after touching August, if you know what I mean, eh, eh, eh? She knows he's a piece of shit, she knows he's a bad person that she can't trust, but she also thinks he's hot as fuck and this obviously causes quite a lot of conflicting emotions in her.

Subtext: No, Wilhelm truly doesn't realize this. He's been trying to get close to Simon in order to get him back, but he still hasn't got a damn clue as to why Simon is keeping his distance.

Subtext: Note that Simon going after Marcus is 100% reactive. He asked him for a ride because he needed to for Sara's sake. And now he's agreeing to karaoke night because Wilhelm just hurt him again, and because his friends have been encouraging him to go for a rebound boyfriend.

Culture: Carola Häggkvist is a very well known Swedish artist and songwriter who had her breakthrough at 17 in the 1983 Eurovision Song Contest with the song Marcus is choosing. She only came in third that time, but won the ESC in 1991 with the song Fångad av en Stormvind. Despite being wacko Christian for a while and married to Norwegian preacher Runar Søgaard, who lost his weapons license after shooting a deer from his bedroom window, she has now mended her ways and is somewhat of a gay icon in Sweden, performing at Stockholm Pride in 2013.

Culture: Främling is about meeting a stranger, falling in love, and taking a chance on this newfound love. Marcus might look like a doofus, but his song choice is pretty clever, although obvious.

Subtext: Can we just appreciate Vincent's dramatics for a second? A first-year not moving their ass off a couch he wants to sit in is apparently causing his entire world to come crashing down. The audacity! Chaos! The system is there for a reason! It provides stability! What's next? Everyone is just gonna sit around playing the bongos? Someone needs to enforce the proper order of things, because August apparently refuses to do so!

Subtext: Some nice foreshadowing here where Alexander checkmates Wilhelm.

Culture: The Swedish Royal Court is an organisation with hundreds of employees who assist the royal family in all their official duties. Here we're seeing the Queen having a late night meeting with some court officials. Although the show doesn't say, it's likely that Minou who was introduced in season 1 is the head of the press and information department, and that the new character Jan-Olof is the Marshal of the Court, which would put him in charge of planning and preparing all official events that the royal family attends.

Subtext: From the perspective of the Queen and the court, Wilhelm's outburst comes out of nowhere. He's been refusing to talk to his mother for weeks, and now he suddenly calls them up, rants about Simon being on a date with another boy, and screams that he doesn't want to become king in the future. In addition, he threatens to talk to the press himself, which makes Minou somewhat concerned to put it lightly.

#young royals #young royals subtext #young royals analysis #young royals season 2

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heartbrkr · 1 year

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roommate pros and cons

SUMMARY The trials and tribulations Haechan goes through just to get a very tired you to bed.

PAIRING roommate!lee haechan x gender neutral!reader

GENRE roommates!au, idiots in love, mutual pining, fluff, comfort

WORD COUNT 695

WARNINGS none but a single swear word

AUTHOR’S NOTE wow first proper drabble. with a lot of alliterations because they're fun. i really loved writing this <3

MASTERLIST | REQUESTS: OPEN!

You don’t care if he’ll mock you and pull on that stupid smug smile he usually does when you initiate affection first, it doesn’t matter right now. All you longed for was his warmth, the one that radiates through your body the moment you attach yourself to him.

Haechan’s mean, yet meaningless quips about your clinginess fall on deaf ears because all you can hear is the pace of his heartbeat with your head leveled to his chest, knees trying their hardest to maintain their form to stabilize your position. You hear his pulse quicken and the right side of your mouth quirks upward the slightest, but you’d rather not bring it up now; you don’t want to risk him pushing you away as petty punishment. That isn’t something you need right now.

Concern comes creeping up on him due to the lack of any type of response, so he pulls you up and engulfs you into his arms properly. Naturally, like a moth to a flame, your face pieces itself into the slope of his neck and shoulder. Jasmine, wood, and the slightest linger of sweat.

“Hey.” He properly acknowledges you, no bullshit lines embellishing his words for the first time tonight. Though, one single word was spoken, you could hear the worry in his voice. Your continuous steady breathing tells him no information aside from the fact that you’re probably not ignoring him, just resting. He can tell you’re not asleep by the twitch of your hands and the way you shift your body here and there, but he thinks you wouldn’t want to keep standing.

Though you aren’t sleeping, you don’t notice Haechan has moved— your almost limp body still in his hold— by your doorway.

He puts his hands on your shoulders with the right amount of weight to turn you around to face the inside of your room. You whine in protest, but he manages to keep you facing forward. “I’ll assume standing up while you’re about to fall asleep isn’t comfortable.”

You don’t know how (you don’t have any energy to), but the moment his grasp loosens the slightest, somehow your head is back on his shoulder, much to his dismay. Well, not quite. In fact, he enjoys it; Haechan so madly adores you the same as you do, but neither know. He enjoys it to the point that he starts to feel as if it’s wrong, that you aren’t in your right mind for him to feel like this.

And his intuition is right, you aren’t in your right mind, that’s exactly why you keep sticking yourself to him. “No matter how comfortable, my bed isn’t as warm as you.”

From his neck up, Haechan starts to feel a rush of blood. He wants to turn his head to the side out of rare embarrassment, but you’re still there. It’s a good reminder for him that all of this is happening, it’s strangely real. “But this,” he gestures to the both of you to the best of his abilities, “is not comfortable.”

You don’t notice he reiterated what he had previously told you, but with your response, it seems like you did. He hasn’t regarded it either, he’s really focused on you getting your deserved eyeshut. He’ll ask you about your day tomorrow.

“Just tell me you want to get rid of me.” You say lightheartedly; he doesn’t take it that way.

“That’s not my intention. You need to sleep properly.”

“I will if you’re beside me.” An invitation. Not a direct one, but still an invitation.

He reroutes the both of you to the restroom, switching the light on before attempting to let you stand on your own and face the tiled walls and shower curtain. An indirect acceptance. “Let’s get you ready for bed first, okay?”

Again, you turn around and try to protest, but he lightly scolds you to use that remaining energy to freshen up instead. He’s back in your room, gathering all the things he needs to do your night routine. A smile progressively graces his face the moment he hears the water run.

Your roommate is a promise of a sunny morning.

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thebeeshaveknees · 5 months

Text

Uhhhh so I decided my first attempt at a trolls fic would be a rewrite of the whole third movie because I'm Silly and I wanted to put JD x DD as like frenemies but romance but I ended up going heavy on the romance and it made me sad so I'm throwing it to the wolves for judgement

When John Dory had fallen into Delta Dawn's pod yet again, he hadn't expected to wake up with a ladybug on his chest.

He nudged her with his foot to wake her up. "Uh. DD."

She grumbled some alliterate curse at him, but rolled over and also saw the ladybug. "John, on my life if you don't get that vermin out of my bed I'll make you walk to the jailhouse in your underthings."

He picked it up, rolled out of bed and was about to put it on the floor when he got smacked upside the head. "Not on my floors neither', John, it's your woods' bug."

John sighed dramatically, waddling to the window with the bug held at arm's reach. "Could you get the window?"

Dawn opened the window latch and John tipped the insect up trying to fit it through, and he noticed the note. "It's a messenger ladybug?" He showed her the underside with eight squirmy legs and a note tied to it with a string. Dawn cringed but grabbed the note around its spindly legs and JD put it out the window. "Sheriff mail?"

She gave him a short look. "Yes, you snoop, now put on a shirt." She said, sitting herself down on the bed to read the letter.

JD threw on his leather jacket, before peeking over DD's shoulder at the note.

"Nothin' interesting, interloper." She teased, looking up at him. "A troll from Pop Village is missing, I'll up patrols for a little while, but it's already been a month - really, ladybugs for messengers.

Something in John's gut twisted, and he'd been following his gut for two decades without fail. "What's their name?"

She opened the letter again. "Branch. Dark blue hair, teal skin, dull coloured." She read, before looking back up at him.

John Dory froze. He felt his stomach twist in knots. "From Pop Village?"

"You look pale, darlin."

"Did it say anything about his disappearance?"

She put her hand on his shoulder, but went back to reading the letter. "Says he was taken from Pop Village by something, it left a trail to the big folks' road but no farther." She looked at him. "You know the troll?"

"He's my brother." John blurted before he could really think it through, leaning into Delta, eyeing the cardstock in her hand. "My baby brother."

"I'm sorry, darlin." She said very softly, wrapping her arm around his shoulder. "When are you leaving?"

"As soon as the market opens, I need to stock up."

"Any ideas where he could be?"

"Not yet, but it's Bitty, I'm sure I could… Maybe I could ask my other brothers for help."

DD sighed, but put her head on his. "Should I come along, interloper?"

JD let his eyelids droop. "I wish, but it seems a traveler can only ever chase the Dawn."

She snorted. "How on earth did I fall for a poet?" She pulled John further into her side. "Don't go chasing what's waiting for you, cowboy."

"If I didn't, how would I keep you on your hooves, Sheriff?"

She sighed, and both just enjoyed the warmth for a moment. "Be safe, you hear?"

"As safe as I usually am." John replied.

They waited for the market to open, for John to leave, in warm silence.

#dreamworks trolls #deltadory #Is that the ship name?#Also I like the term Interloper(affectionate)#Also if u wanna know more abt the fic lmn #Edit:#Perfume branch #He hates the perfume bottle so much actually #I get migraines from strong smells so He gets migraines from strong smells

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dingochef · 1 year

Text

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x You (OFC)

Warnings: Swearing, Smut (MDNI 18+ Only), Angst with a Happy Ending, Stalking, P in V, oral (female and male receiving), Semi-public sex, light spanking,

Word Count: 2.5k

Summary: The jackass you wrote off last night seeks you out for an apology. At least you get a baseball game out of it.

Masterlist

Chapter 1

Chapter 2: I'm just here for the baseball.

You're coming back from your morning run, endorphins pumping through your body, when a text notification from an unknown number flashes across the screen of your phone.

Unknown Number: Hey, it's Jake the Jackass from the bar last night. Just wanted to apologize again and thank you for the apparently needed ego check.

You: Glad I could provide some much needed grounding. How did you get my number?

Unknown Number: Lydia ended up back here with Rooster last night. I asked her when she briefly emerged from their sex den.

You: Ahh sweet traitorous Lydia. Anyway, I accept the apology. Bye and have a nice life.

Unknown Number: That's abrupt, lol. Let me try to redeem myself at least. I've got two home plate tickets to the Padres game today. Interested in joining me?

You consider the offer, a free ticket to a game and something to do this afternoon. In an unusual fit of impulse you grab your phone and reply.

You: Sure, why not. I'll meet you at the entrance opposite the convention center at 12:30.

Unknown Number: Sounds great, it's a date. See you then.

You: It's not a date, it's amends. Especially if I buy the beer.

You don't receive a response. you save his number in your phone as Jackass, Jake in the last name first format.

Jake the Jackass has such a nice alliteration to it. Looking at the clock you've got just enough time to clean up, shove some food down your gullet, and catch the ferry from Coronado Island over to the stadium.

It's a beautiful day that happens more often than not in San Diego when you get off the ferry and walk towards Petco Park. You can see Jake waiting from a distance, he's easy to pick out with the ramrod military posture, sun lightened blond hair waving gently in the wind, and those ubiquitous aviator sunglasses. Are they contractually required to wear them all the time?

You're about 50 feet away when he spots you and you can see the smile bloom in his face in recognition as you approach. He opens his arms for a hug and to your own surprise you reciprocate the gesture. The warmth of his hand seeps through the light cotton sundress you chose for today and almost sears where your bare skin meets his. With the sensible sandals you're wearing he's almost a foot taller than you and you feel very small, yet safe in his arms. Again you get the woodsy smell of his aftershave and think how nice he smells. He pulls back and says,

"I wasn't sure you were going to come. Thought you might want to finish grinding my ego into the ground."

You laugh and reply,

"I keep my word. Besides I figure anyone who's enough of a glutton for punishment to try again is probably worth a second chance. That and a tiny soft spot in my heart that decided at least I get out to a Padres game. It's hard to find someone to go with sometimes."

You start walking towards the turnstile to enter the stadium.

"Lydia and Beth, not big sports fans?" He asks.

"Hardly, the funny thing is that I work with a whole lot of dudes who love baseball, but I just can't imagine spending time with them outside of work without them getting the wrong idea."

"What idea would that be?" He asks waggling his eyebrows.

You point at him,

"That one. For some reason I can't just hang out with a guy from work without them thinking it's more than just someone to hang with and watch some baseball. They try to make it more and it gets real awkward at work when I don't reciprocate. I dated one guy from work and it got pretty serious before it went down in spectacular flames."

You make explosion gestures with your hands.

"Ended up leaving that job, it got so bad, but that led me to your job at Lockheed Martin so it works out in the end."

You take a deep breath, you usually don't reveal that much personal info so early. You know you have trust issues. Jake's brows have furrowed into what you read as anger when thinking about some long ago asshole. For some reason the thought of him wanting to kick some guys ass for you makes you feel fuzzy, then you can feel your feminist brain sigh in disappointment. Sensing the mood has shifted too far towards serious, you laugh your nervous laugh, and point over to the concession stand and ask,

"You got drinks last night so it's your turn. What do you want?"

Jake surprisingly goes along easily with your offer and says,

"Stone Hazy IPA."

Most guys seem affronted that you want to pay your fair share for a date, another ex had called it emasculating when you bought dinner or drinks and for the fact that you made more money than him. You pick a lighter lager from Ballast Point along with a bottle of water.

You've settled into your seats, drinks in tow just as the pregame announcements start. The national anthem plays and you see just how ingrained military habits can be when Jake rises automatically to that perfect posture and removes his sunglasses and raises his hand over his heart and sings surprisingly well along with the music. His voice is mellow and deep and just a charming amount off key in a couple places of the song. An image of you lying your head on his naked chest and feeling that voice reverberate flashes through your brain. Quickly, you shake it away to applaud the end of the anthem and the first pitch.

"These seats are great," you offer to keep the conversation going. You're just far enough down the third base line that we've got a good view of the batter, but still close enough to action that we can hear the catcher trash talking the batters.

"How'd you score these?"

"One of my buddies has season tickets, but got called out to a new assignment and knew I was going to be in the area so he gifted me the rest of the season since he can't use them."

"Nice friend, if you've got these seats all season, I might be more likely to hang out with you again."

"Aha, so the way into the Ice Queen's heart is through baseball, who knew?"

"I've got a few passions in life, you just have to dig a little deeper to get to know them. So, I've got a question, how are you so well acquainted with Frozen? You’re not exactly the market demographic for Frozen. Are you a secret super fan of Disney?"

He laughs,

"Not a secret super fan of Disney, although the Lion King did break my little 10 year old heart. First time I cried at a movie. I've got two nieces who are eight and five. Right in that target demographic. I babysit them occasionally when I'm back in Texas."

"So what does the Seresin family situation look like?" you ask.

"Painfully middle class white, my parents have been married since the beginning of time, met in college. Had my brother pretty early, and a few years later I came along. Dad was a doctor, my older brother is too. Mom had a Physics degree from UT but never had a chance to use it as she stayed home with us and didn't work. Grew up in Austin as the all American family."

"Wow, high achieving family. Imagine being the disappointment as a fighter pilot."

"Who says I'm the disappointment? Mike is just a doctor." He says in mock offense.

"What does the…I don't even know your last name. I just saved you as Elsa Ice in my phone."

You give him a mock glare, "Matthews, so you can correct that now. To be fair I saved you as Jake Jackass in my phone. We'll see how the day goes to see if you upgrade that status. The Matthews family is also painfully bland and white. My Dad retired from the Navy after his service in Vietnam, came back to Michigan and met my mom at a house party at Michigan State. Dad's an automotive engineer and Mom taught high school math for many years. Grew up in a Lansing suburb. I'm the oldest, I have a sister who's 3 years younger than me. She's a tattoo artist in Chicago."

"That's at least a little bit interesting, do you have any of her work on you?"

A mischievous smirk creeps onto your lips as you respond,

"Yeah, I've got a few pieces of hers on me. She's the only one I'd ever let tattoo me. I'd show you, but that would probably earn me a public indecency ticket."

You slyly wink at the last sentence and enjoy the way Jake slightly chokes on his beer as the thought registers.

After a slight coughing fit, Jake regains his smooth demeanor. "As you informed me last night you've got a PhD in aerospace engineering from Stanford, did you go to Michigan State for undergrad?"

"Nope, love my family dearly but I needed some distance so I went to Notre Dame. "

He laughs and you can see those charming laugh lines peeking out from the sides of his aviators. "I get that, I've got some family legacy in the Air Force and wanted to earn my place on my own merits, not on my last name."

"You go to the Naval Academy then?"

He nods in the affirmative,

"That must have been anarchy when you made that choice."

He chuckles at the memory,

"Nearly gave my grandfather a heart attack and almost got my ass beat by uncles and cousins. But I kind of enjoy being the black sheep."

"Yeah, my dad blew a gasket when I got into Notre Dame. He thought he was going to have to pay for it all, private out-of-state tuition made his mind melt, but luckily I got an athletic scholarship that covered most of it."

"What sport?"

Before you can reply there is a high foul ball headed towards your seats. You're seated closer to home plate than Jake and you instinctively stretch your arms up to try and catch the ball. It's coming closer and you can see that it's going to sail over your head. You, for the millionth time, curse your shortness. Suddenly you feel strong hands on your waist and you're being propelled up high enough to catch the ball. You catch the ball with a satisfying thud and whip your head around to see how you're presumably flying in the air. Jake is holding you as high as he can above his head with his long arms. His muscles are rippling but not trembling, the thought of how he could hold you up easily while fucking you against a wall flashes through your brain and a flush of heat rolls down your body and straight to your pussy. You almost drop the ball at the thought as he returns you to the ground.

"I didn't expect that, the foul ball or the complimentary flight."

He shrugs,

"It was all you, I just gave you the boost."

"Well, thank you. I've never caught a ball at a game. This is going to be an excellent addition to my desk on Monday, it'll inspire so much jealousy among my coworkers."

The game continues on at the easy pace of baseball, plenty of time to talk but not miss the action. The Padres are playing the Milwaukee Brewers so it gives you a chance to talk about your mom's roots in Wisconsin and the family legacy of cheese making.

"So, you’re telling me that you’re the first person in five generations of your mom's family not to work in a cheese factory. That is so Wisconsin it hurts." He can't stop laughing maniacally at the thought. you give him a mock punch on the arm as you roll your eyes. "I might be changing your name in my phone to Elsa Cheese Queen." He is laughing so hard that he takes his aviators off to wipe at his eyes.

"Oh my god, you’re turning into a lobster. Did you put any sunscreen on today?"

"No, thought didn't occur to me."

"What is it about guys and sunscreen? Nobody remembers, here I've got some in my purse."

You pull out a small tube of sunscreen and pull his hand over to squeeze some on his fingers. He attempts to slather it on his face leaving a few big globs along his jawline.

"Here, let me help you with that."

You reach out and blend the sunscreen along his jawline, your fingers graze over a hint of stubble. Your apparently overactive and very horny brain sends the thought of feeling that stubble tracing up your thighs. You let the thought linger and quickly hand the tube to Jake and stutter out,

"Now do me."

You mentally cringe at the innuendo, "My back," you quickly amend and turn in your seat to present your back to him. You can feel the cool lotion spread across your back with calloused hands, he gently moves the thin straps of your sundress to make sure he doesn't miss a spot. Horny brain is already piecing together scenarios where that is your bra strap and is followed by exploring lips. Rational brain manages to squeak out a thank you and retrieve the sunscreen from Jake. You settle back into your seat and Jake rests his arm on the back of your seat. You let it stay.

The game ends with the Padres winning 8-4. You're shuffling out of the game and your stomach growls. In another one of those moments of impulse you'll attribute to your horny brain you ask,

"Are you up for a bite to eat? I know a good tapas place a few blocks from here."

Jake is visibly surprised at your invite, he smiles as he replies,

"Yeah, that sounds great. I must have grown on you if you're wanting to spend more time with me. I half expected you to bolt the minute the game was over."

He smirks and cracks that toothpaste smile that you immediately rename the panty dropper.

"Ah yes, like a cute little fungus, you've grown on me. You’re not so bad, once you drop the smug idiot act."

"Fair, I can work with that…so does this mean you’re asking me on a date?"

You pause and lower your sunglasses, it's your turn to be smooth for once in your life.

@mayhemmanaged

"Why yes, Jake Seresin, will you go on a dinner date with me?"

Chapter 3

@callmemana

@hangmanscoming

@lanie-k

#top gun fanfiction #hangman fanfiction #top gun maverick #hangman x you #jake seresin fanfiction #hangman #jake seresin x you #jake hangman seresin x you #jake hangman seresin x reader #top gun smut

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jimmy-dipthong · 6 months

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Translating Split Cards in MTG

For those that don’t know, some cards in magic the gathering look like two cards stacked sideways, called “split cards” - the gimmick is that you can cast either side of the card (or both at the same time if it has fuse).

Usually they have a cute naming convention in english. In the Guilds of Ravnica card set, each split card had names with alliteration: e.g. Incubation//Incongruity, Depose//Deploy, Find//Finality.

What’s great is that they preserve this in the Japanese versions too! My favourite is probably Find//Finality.

採取//最終（さいしゅ//さいしゅう）(saishu//saishuu)

採取：The act of picking up or gathering things found on the ground, such as shells, rocks, or plants. This is pretty much exactly the flavour of “Find”, which is opportunistically gathering back dead creatures.

最終：A common word which means “last” or “final”. Could be used to describe the final act of a story, someone’s final breath, etc. Also very exactly matches what they were going for with “Finality”.

By themselves they’re fine translations, but together they’re amazing, maybe even better than the original english card name. The two names sound super similar when spoken aloud and only have one character different between them! It’s alliteration taken to the extreme!

Aftermath Cards

Another type of card that tends to have a cute naming convention is Aftermath cards. These cards are similar to split cards in that they’re two cards in one, but the difference is you need to first cast the top half, then you can cast the bottom half from your graveyard. In english they’re all named after common phrases that have a “to” in the middle: e.g. Onward//Victory, Spring//Mind, Refuse//Cooperate, Start//Finish.

This means that each half of the card has a card name that works individually, but when placed together in a phrase like “onward to victory”, the card as a whole takes on a new meaning.

The way they handled the translation here is genius. Instead of using phrases made up of multiple words, which wouldn’t lend themselves well to card names in japanese, they instead chose to use 四字熟語 (yojijukugo, four-character compounds. Incidentally, yojijukugo is a yojijukugo itself). Let’s look at the translation for Onward//Victory.

先手//必勝（せんて//ひっしょう）(sente//hisshou)

先手：Making the first move in a game or sport. Can also be translated as “taking the initiative”. Works fine for the card effect, which is making your creature more recklessly powerful without increasing its toughness. With a name like this you’d kinda expect it to grant haste, but whatever.

必勝：Simply means “certain victory”. Basically a word-for-word of the english.

先手必勝：When joined together, these two words make a yojijukugo that means “the early bird gets the worm” or “victory goes to the one who makes the first move”. How cool is it that they replicated the trick of having each half of the card have a meaning, but when combined as a whole it takes on a new meaning!

I also love that they seem to have prioritised matching the name with the mechanics and having a good 四字熟語 pairing, instead of prioritising translating the english phrase directly. A great example of that is Refuse//Cooperate.

機略縦横（きりゃく//じゅうおう）(kiryaku//juuou)

機略：The resources you have available. Often used in a set phrase: 機略に富む which means to be resourceful. This is super different to the english name, “refuse”, but somehow works with the card effect much better! Refuse doesn’t actually refuse anything, but it does deal damage to the opponent based on what spell they’ve cast: I’d say that works better for “being resourceful” than refusal.

縦横：This word is made up of the kanji for “vertical” and the kanji for “horizontal”. It can mean literally “vertical and horizontal” but also “in every direction” and “acting as one pleases”. Again, totally different to the english “cooperate”, but it describes the card effect much more completely! If you copy your own spell, you’re “covering all angles”. If you copy your opponent’s spell, you’re “acting as you please”. Both this and the one above are brilliant translations just on their own.

機略縦横：Very resourcefully using tactics adapting oneself to the requirements of the moment; playing it by ear; acting according to circumstances. The card as a whole is all about responding to your opponents’ spells, and turning whatever they throw at you back at them, so it fits perfectly. Such a smart translation.

Now, I only picked the really good translations to single out here, but there are a few aftermath cards that use very obscure 四字熟語 which don't make much sense when split in half, or in the case of Rags//Riches, Destined//Lead, Never//Return, and Mouth//Feed, don't actually use 四字熟語 at all. I wonder if there were better translations possible for these!

PS: I wrote this whole article and then, while I was looking for a hi-res scan of 機略//縦横, I found a much more comprehensive article by a japanese language university lecturer covering basically the exact same topic. Link to that here: https://wesleycrobertson.wordpress.com/2020/12/01/word-play-localizing-split-card-themes-in-magic-the-gathering/

#langblr #japanese #japanese language #language #translation #magic the gathering #mtg #magic #jimmy blogthong

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drarrily-we-row-along · 1 year

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Quiet

Harry is small.

That's the only way that Draco can describe him. Small, and quiet, and constantly deferring to Draco's opinion.

And it made Draco fucking crazy.

So crazy that he just found himself pushing, pushing, pushing, and pushing at his boyfriend. Because he hadn't been like this when they were dating, it was something that had developed once Harry moved in.

"You know," Draco said over dinner, a dinner that he knew for a fact that Harry hated but that he hadn't put up even a token protest over when Draco had offered to make it, "I've been thinking."

"Oh?" Harry asked, tilting his head as though he was trying to show that he was actively listening.

He swallowed his bite of scallops, "I've been thinking I might paint the kitchen a mustard yellow."

The corner of Harry's eye twitched but he said nothing.

"What do you think?"

Harry blinked, "Errm. If that's what you-"

"What the fuck?" he finally burst, throwing down his napkin.

His boyfriend startled so badly that he dropped his fork with half a scallop, that he'd been pushing around on his plate, on the floor. "Sorry!" he said, quickly bending down to pick it up. "Let me get the carpet cleaner-" he added moving toward the kitchen.

"For fuck's sake we're wizards!" he exclaimed, flicking his wand at the stain on the floor. "And don't bother apologizing because I know you fucking hate scallops and have been forcing them down your stupid throat."

"Oh," Harry said, staring at the spot and looking unbearably small and fragile.

He sighed, rubbing his forehead, "What the fuck, Harry?" he asked softly.

"Sorry," he said again, crossing his arms around his waist, "Sorry, Draco. I don't mean to be such a burden, to be impossible to live with-"

"But you aren't," he protested. "You've been nothing but agreeable, and affable, and accommodating."

"That was a lot of alliteration," Harry said softly, cracking a small smile.

He sagged a bit, any last traces of frustration flowing out of his body, "Harry," he said, stepping toward him and taking his hands, "you're making me crazy. What's going on with you? There are so many things that I thought I knew-"

"I don't want you to hate living with me," he blurted. "And-" he looked down at their clasped hands, eyes shimmering with tears.

"Let me order a pizza," he said, "then we can talk while we wait."

"But you already made dinner. I-"

"A dinner that you hate," he argued. "I'll eat them for lunch tomorrow."

"I could just eat the-"

"Harry," he said firmly, glaring at him, "we're going to eat pizza and you are going to tell me why you're so afraid of telling me what you actually think."

His boyfriend just nodded despairingly and left while Draco pulled out his mobile to order pizza. When he'd finished, he followed Harry into the living room and pointed to the other end of the couch, "Can I sit with you."

Harry nodded but didn't say anything.

"You've never had a problem with telling me what you think," he started. "I mean, there have been times in my life where I've wished that you wouldn't-"

"The Dursleys were," he shook his head, "living with them was hard."

“Alright,” he said uncertainly. “I’m sorry-”

“They made me feel like by simply existing I was burdening them,” he whispered like a confession. “Like I could never be quiet enough, or good enough, or well enough behaved, or-” he broke off and shook his head. “And I know you’re not them,” he said, looking pleadingly at Draco. “I know you don’t expect me to pretend I don’t exist,” he added. “But part of me feels like I only get so many things that I disagree with, so many ways that I take up space, before you realize-” he broke off and looked down at his hands in his lap.

“Realize what?” Draco asked.

Harry took a shuddering breath and a tear slowly tracked down his cheek, “that I’m too much. That I’m too demanding, too loud, too hard to live with. I love you,” he whispered “and I don’t know how to keep you.”

For a long moment Draco just stared at him, then as another tear slipped down Harry’s cheek, he pulled him into his arms. “You aren’t too much for me.” He squeezed him tighter, “I knew who you were when I asked you to move in with me. I knew that we wouldn’t agree on everything, that sometimes I’d have to make compromises.”

Harry sniffled.

“And, yes, I suppose I’m more used to getting my way than most,” he conceded. “But I’ve always argued with you.”

“That’s true,” he whispered.

“And I fell in love with you anyway. You get to be a whole person with needs, and wants, and opinions all the time,” Draco said. “And none of that will be able to make me stop loving you.”

There was a pause, “how do you know?”

“Because I am already in love with you and having differences of opinion doesn’t change that.” He pressed a kiss into Harry’s hair, “we’re going to fight. We’re going to disagree. I’m going to be an arsehole and so are you. But it doesn’t mean that I don’t love you.”

“Will you tell me that?” Harry asked, raising his head to search Draco’s eyes. “When you’re mad, will you tell me that you still love me?”

Draco’s heart shattered further, “yes, darling.” He stroked his thumb over Harry’s cheek. “And if I forget to say it, you can always ask. I will never be mad enough that I won’t still be able to tell you that I love you.”

“Okay,” Harry whispered in reply. “You’re not really painting the kitchen mustard yellow, are you?”

Draco laughed and shook his head, “no.” He pressed a kiss to Harry’s temple, “this is your home too. You’re allowed to take up space.”

And it wasn’t always easy. It required a lot of communication, a lot of understanding, but they learned how to have opinions and how to completely love both each other and themselves.

#drarry #one shot #love #harry had a shitty childhood #not having a secure attachment style is a bitch #soft #communication is important #learning to live together #established relationship #tenderness

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