#not every single second needs a score or a backing track
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Just listened to the first episode of The Adventure Zone Versus Dracula. As much as I enjoyed the reprise of the original theme song for this season, I disliked the rest of the sound design for the episode. I like classical music but it's kinda exhausting to listen to the entire time while also dialogue and combat is happening. I hope they either lower the volume or show more restraint with it in the future.
#taz#theadventurezone#sound design#versus dracula#the adventure zone#the adventure zone podcast#taz: versus dracula#not every single second needs a score or a backing track#they should know this by now#they've been doing this podcast for years#is the editor new?
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If the ask game is still open, what about an AU where Bakugou is recruited by the HPSC à la Hawks and Nagant?
Doubling these up because they fit together
- HPSC hears about it right away, as it’s unusual for UA to expel a single student rather than a large group. They find Bakugou’s high test scores in both the academic and practical exam, as well as the glowing praise from teachers over the years. But they aren’t stupid. They can sense where things have been exaggerated, and the operatives studying his case immediately clock what an arrogant, violent person he is. The kind of person who could easily become a villain, especially after being ‘wronged’ like this. They intercept his application to new schools within the week.
- They tell him and his family that this is a new and experimental program to teach the next generation of heroes, as opposed to the reality that many like him have come before. It’s a boarding situation with limited contact with his family or the outside world, which Bakugou is initially happy about. He doesn’t need his nagging parents breathing down his neck. And he doesn’t need a class of extras to distract him. Plus, academics take even more of a backseat to hero training.
- Bakugou is easy to train. Even though his regiment is specialized, his handlers make up records for him to break; not so easy he can break them on the first try, not hard enough to be impossible. Winning is his sole drive, so they let him think he’s doing that. When he does start breaking the made-up records, they invent imaginary other students in the program that are breaking new ones in another part of the building. This technique proves even more effective, as Bakugou doesn’t just run on being the best, he thrives on being better than others.
- Harder is teaching him to hold back on orders. Bakugou fundamentally believes himself to be superior to everyone, including adults, so why should he listen to them? So the handlers come up with an exorcise: he’s locked in a room with a series of dummies with voice boxes that hurl insults at all hours of the day. But he’s only allowed to destroy them one at a time when the lights in the room change color. Said color change only occurs for a few seconds at a time a few times a day, and the dummies are reinforced with quirk-resistant material that take a long time to break. And every time he breaks a dummy outside of the allotted time, they bring back in two more. He has as long as he needs to work, but they tell him the sports festival is only two weeks away and they won’t let him watch if he doesn’t finish the exercise in time. When he says he doesn't care, they remind him that he could check on the progress of the kids who got him expelled. Against all odds he does it, and gets to watch in time to see Deku, the reason he lost his shot at UA, win the whole tournament against Todoroki, the one other kid that scared him. Of course, it was never going to be live, it happened days before they introduced the exercise. Live television is out of their control, and who knows how he might have reacted to different results.
- His rage and commentary about Izuku being a quirkless liar prompt the program to change course: employ Bakugou as a specific countermeasure to Deku. He’s a strong kid with obvious ties to All Might, and All Might is a hero too powerful for them to control. Plus, he tried to appeal Bakugou’s expulsion, so he still views him as a friend. And so, they tell Bakugou his suspicions about Izuku aren’t unwarranted, someone born quirkless suddenly gaining power like that reads like something similar to a legendary supervillain believed to be dead. Not to mention, quirkless people in general lack discipline. Not like Bakugou, less than a year into the program and he’s already the best they’ve seen in years. Deku is on a fast track to become All Might’s successor, the new most popular hero in the world. And who would become even more popular than the guy who proved that symbol false?
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curiosity is a wonderful thing - chapter 2
wc: 3.3k
genre: politics, slice of life, slow burn, best friends to lovers
pairing: audrey x ben, belle x adam (aka beast), eventual ben x reader
warnings: politics, audrey suuuuuucks, the isle has bad living conditions, adam yells (not at ben he's just fired up)
summary: ben is ready to announce his first proclamation to his parents. It's risky, and he knows he needs to rely on the support of his friends and girlfriend. but mostly support from you.
song recs: descendants score suite - descendants score, queen of peace - florance and the machine
a/n: thinking thoughts about ben lol. as always fangs to cici for beta reading <3
tags @yesv01 @magcon7280 @dustyinkpages @demirunner @strawberry-cake1 @kiara7777 @hopefullhearts @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sunshineangel-reads
“Your first proclamation, huh?” Ben’s dad asks with a deep chuckle. “What have you got?”
Facing your parents is nerve wracking for anyone, but it’s especially intimidating when your mom is regarded as hands down one of the smartest people in the country, and your dad can turn into a hulking 10 foot tall razor toothed beast. Ben has been training to be a good politician and a good king for his whole life. Every single day he’s been praised for listening, not going against the grain, for having a level head and coming to the same conclusions as his parents. Up until now, it’s been a very good thing, his parents have been such great rulers, and he’s grateful to have such experienced footsteps to follow in and learn from. His parents taught him to listen to his heart, to form his own opinions and do good even when it’s hard. He takes in a deep breath, steadying himself for this, for the first time he’s going to stand up for something his parents might not be behind. As much as he doesn’t want to admit it, it’s terrifying.
As quickly as the feeling arises, he thinks of you. He thinks about when he first found out that when they were rounding up villains for the isle, there was a lot of debate on if they should put Wonderlandians there as well. They were described as volatile and chaotic. Ben has never, ever thought of you as either of those things. It made him feel sick then - and makes him feel sick now - that if no one had advocated for Wonderland, if no one had advocated for your mom and for you, that he would never have met the best person he’s ever had the honor of knowing. Ben gets to know you, Ben gets the honor and privilege of having you in his life because someone advocated for you, and stood up for the underdog. All of his nerves suddenly stand strong and tall, forming an armor of determination that wraps around him.
“I want to bring four children from the Isle of the Lost over to Auradon, to give them a second chance.”
Ben’s heart pounds, but his gaze is unwavering. He’s not going to have to lay awake at night any longer, worrying about the kids on the Isle and not being able to do anything about it. He’s doing what he always promised himself he’d do - use his power to make good changes for people who can’t make changes for themselves. He almost loses his conviction when he sees how angry his dad is becoming at the very thought of bringing children from the Isle to Auradon. Ben knows why he’s getting like this. He thinks Ben hasn’t thought this through, that he’s putting public safety at risk. Before that little nagging voice of self doubt starts to get the better of him, Ben thinks back to you, and he feels his fear become replaced with conviction.
“Every time I look out at the Isle, I feel like they’ve been abandoned.”
All of the work you helped him put into this proclamation, all the practice and talking points circle his head like the guiding beam of a lighthouse. He finds himself right back on track, and he meets his father’s gaze with what he hopes comes off as confident self assurance. He takes in a small breath, steadying himself. He’s not just defending his ideas, his arguments, he’s defending the rights of every innocent child born into the isle.
Belle looks shocked. All she can think about is the pain and terror she and many of her good friends - and countless other people, to varying extents - endured at the hands of the people who were sequestered off to the Isle. Adam doesn’t even need to look at his wife to know exactly what’s going through her mind, and he feels a lot of the protective and defensive feelings over her coming back. He hasn’t felt this way since before he got rid of that piece of shit Gaston, and ensured he couldn’t hurt his wife or his people again.
“The children of our sworn enemies?” He asks, stepping forward, “Living among us?”
He wonders for a moment if Ben has somehow magically forgotten what it was like before. The sense of fear knowing that villains were out there, in hiding or in far away lairs, that they could come back and wreak havoc at any moment. Adam stares down his son, but Ben refuses to waver under his gaze. Of course he hasn’t forgotten. But Adam had never asked to be treated like a monster all those years, and if things had gone differently, maybe it would be him and Ben on the Isle. The children shouldn’t have to suffer for their parents’ choices.
“Not all of them, just a few at first. To start out.” Ben says, hoping it will clarify that he doesn’t intend to turn Auradon into a state of anarchy and chaos, “The ones who need our help the most.”
Belle takes a breath and nods at her son’s words. She’s trying to keep an open mind about all this, not rush to judgment and jump to conclusions like the people in her village would when she was growing up. She waits for Ben to continue. He locks eyes with his mom for a moment, and even under the current circumstances, he can still feel her unwavering support. A brief wave of love and gratitude for her wash over him, but he knows now isn’t the time to get sappy. Feeling a renewed sense of belief in him from his mom, he smiles a little as he looks back at his dad.
“I’ve already chosen them.” He states.
His dad can smell fear - literally. Being able to smell nervous systems and pheromones are one of the many bizarre abilities you gain after being magically transformed into a beast - so Ben uses all his strength to stay calm and confident. If he can pull this off, if he can really sell this confidently, the potential good it could bring to innocent people trapped on the Isle would be immeasurable. Adam doesn’t say anything for a moment, waiting to see if Ben wavers under his gaze. When he finally speaks, his voice is tense.
“Have you?”
Ben is fighting with his life to stay composed. Belle looks between them for a moment, then places her hand on Adam’s arm. He rests his hand on hers, acknowledging her, but doesn’t break eye contact with his son. Belle knows that all her son wants is to do good. He’s the best parts of both of them. Maybe their generation wouldn’t have been ready for this, but Ben is paving the way to a new era. It’s his time to step up, and trust his instincts. Although the thought terrifies her, Belle would be lying if she said she couldn’t see any merit to his plan.
“I gave you a second chance.” She says softly. Ben knew this was going to be hard, he was expecting opposition, but he’s infinitely grateful that his mom is on his side. If she’s on board, eventually his dad will come around too. Her support always means the world to him, but there’s something extra special there today. It’s the same way that you support him, and as his thoughts turn from his mother's support to yours, he finds himself full of renewed strength and determination.
"Who are their parents?" Belle asks. Ben takes in a breath, deciding to work his way up.
"Cruella…"
Belle takes in a small breath at the mention of her name, and Adam's shoulders tense. It's only going to get worse from here, so Ben bites the bullet and continues. After being hunted like an animal by an angry mob, Adam can't stand cruelty to animals even more than he had before.
"Jafar…"
Belle takes in a sharp breath at the mention of his name. After the technological boom that resulted in Auradon creating an alliance with Atlantis, magic is mostly antiquated. However, that won't stop someone as power hungry as Jafar from seeking out any artifacts he can, no matter the cost.
"The Evil Queen…"
Adam clenches his jaw, trying his hardest to remain calm. It's taken years to repair the damage to the Winter's Keep agriculture, even the mention of a poison apple will have them importing all their produce. The very idea of having the child of the Evil Queen in Auradon could send the agricultural industry spiraling.
"And…" before Ben can announce the last one, a wave of nerves manages to get past the wall of confidence he’s been so carefully building. His dad can sense it, Ben’s sure. He knows the only way to handle this is to keep going before he gets even more nervous.
“Maleficent.”
A chill passes through the room, and you’d think Ben had declared the last refugee to be the spawn of Hades himself.
“Maleficent?!” Adam barks. Behind them, Lumier gasps, dropping his pins. He gathers his sewing supplies and exits quickly. Ben is unsure if Lumier’s shaking hands are from his father’s outburst, or the mention of the evil fairy’s name.
“Dad-”
“She’s the most dangerous, volatile villain in the land!”
Ben had expected this kind of reaction. Fairies becoming evil is incredibly rare. Most mainland fairies originate deep in the enchanted forests of Schwartzvald, and as seasons change, they can migrate to other forests. There’s a certain type of magic that’s unique to fairies, it’s very powerful and impossible to recreate by non fairies. When a fairy corrupts itself with dark magic, another incredibly powerful and corrosive source of power, the consequences are cataclysmic. Maleficent is living proof of that.
“Just, hear me out dad-”
“Absolutely not!” Adam barks, “I won’t hear of it!”
“Dad-”
“She is guilty of unspeakable crimes!”
“And her child?!”
His question hangs in the air between them.
“All of the children, are they guilty too? Their only crime is living.”
Sixteen years ago, Adam never would have entertained the thought. But now, being a parent himself…
“The children are innocent.” Ben continues, and Adam can hear the passion, the desire to fight for those kids on the Isle in his voice, “They deserve a chance.”
Belle is moved by Ben’s argument, and in spite of his hesitance, Adam is too. A small flurry of pride rushes through him at the sight of how strong and well spoken his son is becoming. They sit in the space between Ben’s words for a moment, but it feels like an eternity. Belle gives Adam’s arm a squeeze, silently encouraging him. After a moment, he speaks.
“I suppose… the children are innocent.”
Adam turns around, pinching the bridge of his nose, and Belle walks up to Ben, adjusting the collar of his shirt.
“Good job.” She says, so softly he would have missed it if not for the glimmer of pride in her eyes. She pats his chest affectionately before walking back over to Adam, taking his arm as they leave. She’ll talk to him about all this later, Ben knows she will. If anyone can get his dad to be on board with this, it’s going to be his mom.
Ben gazes down at his signet ring, remembering the promise he made to himself when he first received it. He hasn’t taken it off since. He is going to be a good king. He looks out at the Isle, wishing he could do something about it right now. He wishes he could just take Fairy Godmother’s wand and fix everything, but real change takes time. Sustainable change takes time. Ben is going to be a good king, who makes real, sustainable change. He’s going to be a good chapter in the history books - the ones written in Auradon, and on the Isle.
With a deep sigh, he carefully takes off the suit jacket Lumier had been tailoring and makes a mental note to reschedule the rest of his fitting from today. He begins to run through his schedule for the day, but his thoughts keep getting pulled back to you. He's so excited to tell you everything. You were both prepared for a much bigger fight to get his parents' support on this, and he didn't end up having to use a fraction of his talking points. He exits into the hallway, elated at how it went, and heads toward his room. He's not even ten steps down the hall when he almost trips over a pair of legs.
He looks down, surprised to see you. You had been so engrossed in what you were doing that you entirely lost track of time. Your face lights up when you see him.
"Ben!" You exclaim happily, shoving your things back into your tea pot bag. "How did it go?"
You study his face for some kind of indication, but all you see is surprise. And warmth. You had told him you'd wait outside for him, but he hadn't actually expected that of you. Wonderlandians have a distorted sense of time, so hours can feel like minutes, or minutes can feel like an eternity. You explained to him what it's like all those years ago, and he's always been very understanding and done his best to make sure you're accommodated. Most importantly, he's never asked you to push yourself, and he's always covered for you when you need to slip away for a little while. All thoughts of the meeting with his parents are gone as he looks down at you, how you'd been waiting for him.
"You… you waited out here for me instead of going to Wonderland?" He asks, his voice soft.
"Of course," you say matter of factly, still waiting to hear about how it went. Ben’s chest flutters with appreciation for you, for having you in his life. Wonderland is your favorite place in the entire world, there's nowhere and nothing that makes you happier. But you still waited out here for him. You chose him. He snaps out of his train of thought, realizing you're still waiting on an answer.
"It went well." He states. Your face lights up, and he can't help but smile.
"It did?" You ask, and Ben realizes that you're just as invested in this as he is. He laughs a little, nodding.
"Yeah. I- I need to rearrange some things, we have to plan for their arrival, and call a press-"
His words are cut off by the celebratory laugh that bubbles out of you. You throw your arms around his neck, hugging him tight. Your body is warm against him, and you smell like tea and pastries and… something familiar.
“I knew you could do it!” You exclaim. He lets out a hesitant laugh, and holds you back. He's done a lot today, so he lets himself indulge in your embrace. When you finally pull away, he holds your arms, rubbing them gently as you ramble.
"So, what next?" You ask, still beaming up at him.
“Uh…” He starts, still processing everything. “We need to go over the agenda, make sure their arrival is smooth. A press conference, definitely,” he adds, and you nod, agreeing.
He suddenly remembers he was supposed to meet up with Audrey today. He pauses, hating to have to cancel on her again.
“...And Audrey.” He pulls out his phone to call her. You prepare yourself to comfort him, to reassure him that he’s not being a bad boyfriend, he’s being a good politician. You don’t know why Audrey insists on giving him such a hard time. You would think that she’d know what to expect of having a boyfriend in politics at this point, much less a boyfriend in the royal family. You listen to Ben’s conversation after she picks up.
“Hey, Audrey, hi. So, about my first proclamation pitch,” Ben says, excitement bubbling out of him. Through the speaker of his phone, you can hear Audrey’s voice.
“Right, right. When is that supposed to happen again? Cause you promised you’d take me to Camelot Heights this weekend, Bennyboo…”
You don’t understand how anyone could be so apathetic towards something as monumental as a first proclamation. You can tell Ben feels the same. He’s thrown, but he’s trying not to show it.
“Uh… today. It- it happened today. Just now.”
“Oh, so you’re finally done with all that stuff?”
There’s a moment of silence that hangs between the two of you before Ben answers.
“Uh…” he chuckles again, “done preparing for the pitch, yes. Remember when we went over the agenda? Pitch, then timeline and planning, then press meetings…” He says, trying to jog her memory.
“Uh-huh.”
You can almost see her now, filing her nails before cheerleading practice.
“Right, so now we need to plan everything out, make sure it’s practical to follow through with the pitch.”
She doesn’t say anything, waiting for him to get to the point.
“I know we had plans tonight, but I’m going to be in and out of meetings all day, probably all weekend, then it’s going to be a media frenzy…” he says, mentally trying to fit everything into his already jam-packed schedule.
Sitting out on the tourney field before cheer practice, Audrey pauses. A media frenzy? That’s going to give her a lot of face time, and publicity with Bennyboo.
“I totally understand,” she starts, suddenly engaged in their conversation. Ben pauses, looking mildly confused.
“You do?”
“Of course, Bennyboo. You have fun at your meetings. Let me know the day before we start all that press so I can get a hair appointment.” She looks down at her nails, setting aside her file. “And my cuticles need some serious work…”
“Uh…” Ben chuckles. You can tell he’s disappointed by her reaction. You are too, you just expected she’d do something like this. Ben has been trying to connect with Audrey about politics since they started dating, she said she cared about helping the people of Auradon just as much as he did, but she only said that to get closer to him, to win him over. Ben wishes she would engage with the people more, wishes he could get her to care like he does. But he knows it’s not worth a fight with her, not on a day as important as today.
“Right, right. I’ll, uh,” He pulls out his planner, scribbling something down, “I’ll make sure you get that hair appointment…”
“And nails.” Audrey adds.
“Right.” Ben states. You watch them say goodbye and hang up, and you can sense how unsatisfied Ben feels with that whole exchange. He needs a pick me up, he needs to be reminded about what a success today has been. You smile at him, trying to contain your excitement. One look at you and he already finds himself smiling again, thinking about what’s important.
“So, what’s first? A meeting with Fairy Godmother, surely.” You say, seeming to read his mind.
“Yeah,” he nods. You follow him down the hall as he begins to ramble. “We’ll need to discuss security, too. And accommodations.”
His dissatisfaction with Audrey, with her apathy towards politics fades away as he rambles to you. You agree with his plan, adding in a few vital things he hadn’t thought of. Ben feels a renewed sense of strength as you accompany him to the million proclamation meetings he has for the rest of the day. You really are his right hand man, his best friend, and he’s so grateful that you’re here for him through all of this. He knows as sure as anything that he could never do it without you.
#curiosity is a wonderful thing#descendants#descendants x reader#ben florian#ben florian x reader#daughter of alice!reader
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Ghost Rider Pacific Rim AU - (un)common affliction
Eric Brooks loves his goddamn job. He sometimes has to repeat it to himself in the mornings, an important affirmation before spending sixteen hours in the company of idiots, children and idiot children. It’s still true. He takes a bunch of self-important assholes who think they are the second coming and turns them into self-aware assholes ready to cooperate in a fight bigger than themselves.
He’s given up on the asshole part. There’s only so much he can do in a day.
Most of the kids joining in recruitment drives dream of becoming a ranger. It’s not impossible – the Summers brothers came through via the academy – but it’s never as quick as they’d like, and there is a lot more going into getting the job than anyone realises. It’s one thing to have the perfect sim scores. They need to pass every single medical, convince three separate shrinks they won’t turn a jaeger’s ranged weapons the wrong way, and – most infuriatingly – get the attention of someone on the strike team. This is why the majority of successful rangers comes from an army background – they’re just a little more ahead in the networking game. A little less likely to get weird about orders.
And then there’s Robbie fucking Reyes, who insists on doing everything ass-backwards and somehow coming out on top. If Eric starts greying before the end of the year, he’s putting it squarely on this boy’s shoulders.
“I know you cheated,” he says. If Reyes tenses any further, he’ll crack his jaw. “Did Cho give you the scenario in advance?”
He wouldn’t put it past Amadeus and his obsession with Hell Charger. Get attention of someone on the strike team: check. Reyes closes his eyes for a moment, like his first instinct is to tell Eric to go fuck himself and it’s a struggle to contain it.
“No, sir,” he grits out. “Just got lucky.”
Eric’s office is intentionally a blank space. Nothing to stare at, nothing to fiddle with. It’s a great way to ensure neither Stark nor Cho, or almost anyone, can stand to be inside of it for longer than a minute. Reyes, though, has the rare ability to glare at an empty wall like a seasoned soldier. It’s unnerving, if only because that broken eye of his still reflects light wrong.
Still. There are other cadets who spend their nights boning up on the regs to get an edge. He can wave away him knowing the techniques, or the frankly inhuman speed of his training progress. He can't ignore blatant corner-cutting.
“Lucky?” he repeats, incredulous. The cheek on this kid. “You lucked into knowing the Submariner Protocol?”
“It just made sense—”
“Reyes, you’ve been here for two weeks. Captain-goddamn-Danvers didn’t pass this sim on her first try. The point of this exercise is that you need experience to pass it. So, I will ask you again. Who gave you the solution?”
Reyes opens his mouth, then closes it again. Not a snitch – good. Lack of answers – frustrating as hell. Knowing that it’s another point in ‘fast-track Reyes to full ranger training’ column – ugh. Nobody wants that. Even Reyes doesn’t seem to want that, for all that he’s been hitting every other box on the checklist like he has the key to it.
Eric tries not to get too attached to his students. Most of them end up in ground cover, and it’s a good day if half of them make it back after a demon encounter. Even the smaller beasts coming out of the ocean and from the inside of their full-sized brethren have been stronger and faster with every attack, like whatever makes them finally splurged on the good feed. Learning his cadets’ hopes and dreams before he sends them to their deaths is how one day Eric will look at the wrong end of a gun. It’s hard to avoid the details with Reyes, though, what with most of his colleagues’ lives suddenly revolving around his weird brain.
He isn’t prone to conspiracy theories, but either Reyes is playing the longest, most self-sacrificial game in this war, or something really has it out for him. It’s like he was custom-made to get everyone’s reluctant sympathy. The disabled brother, the whole parents situation, the destroyed hometown – you'd have to be dead inside not to feel at least a little bit bad for him. Even Ivanov seems to be affected, and the Colonel’s whole career has been built on being a stone-cold bastard. In an ideal world, they should just give the boy some low-risk job away from the politics and leave him in peace. In this world, however, Wakanda is at the brink of an economic war with South Africa and PPDC’s plan to replace titanium cores in their jaegers with vibranium has to be postponed, again. Which means they’re just a little too slow to react, just a little too breakable. It means they need to send at least three at every new demon coming up. It means they need to hold back one, in case, and to help with the beasties to minimise ground cover losses. It means more wear and tear on the rangers.
The Charger was built for speed, to be the point. The nerd squad can bend over backwards promising they don’t intend to re-commission it, but it’s a foregone conclusion for the brass. If Reyes can pilot it, he will. There are too many lives at stake.
“Get out of here,” he sighs. Reyes blinks, his bad eye just a little more dilated than the good one. “You heard me. I’m watching you, though.”
He doesn’t expect a response and doesn’t get one beyond the door shutting with a little more force than necessary. Reyes is unfailingly polite to the admins, but turns into a feral cat the second he’s dealing with anyone with a shred of authority over him. It's not an uncommon affliction.
Eric picks up his comm link. “Barton, come in.”
“Receiving.”
“Can you find out who told Reyes about the Submariner Protocol?”
“...Ooo-kay. Any leads?”
“Start with Cho.”
He can appreciate a no-snitching rule, but sometimes Amadeus needs a good talking-to and God knows Stark never delivers.
#ghost rider pacific rim au#robbie reyes#blade#can I get to the point of this AU now#please brain is this enough foundation#can i move on yet#can I get back to the big robots
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Hold Your Tongue
[sequel to Kiss and Tell, can be read as a stand alone. Fives x Smuggler!reader, Enemies and lovers. No real warnings needed, just some fluff and hurt/comfort.]
You were flopped on the cheap bed on the seedy inn you had managed to find on the edge of the small town on Nar Shada. Fresh bandages wrapped your shoulder, a near miss with a blaster bolt.
You tensed at the knock at the door, counting out the rhythm that meant your cyare was home.
“It’s unlocked.” You called, pushing yourself up off the bed with a wince. Fives pushed the door open, making sure to lock it behind him.
“For a smuggler, you’re awfully bad at personal security.” He chided softly. There’s a hoarseness in his voice that instantly had you on edge. He looked even worse than he had a few weeks ago, the poor lighting of your rented room highlighting the dark circles and stubble. Carbon scoring dusted the nooks and crannies of his armor, like he had tried to hurriedly scrub it and missed half the grime.
“You’ve been in a firefight.” You noted, coming up to pull him into a hug. “Hope it wasn’t you shooting at me earlier.”
“No. Would’ve made sure to get you properly if I was, Troublemaker.” He huffed, relaxing into your touch.
“Nah, you like me alive too much to do that.” You grinned lazily, fiddling with the catch of his breastplate before undoing it. Fives stood stock still while you took off each and every plate, carefully turning it over and stacking it neatly by the door. His helmet, which had been tucked under his arm, was the last to go.
“Do I get to unwrap you too, Mesh’la?” He asked, tugging at your jacket. You didn’t have the same amount of pieces in your outer layer, but he took the same time and care with your jacket, overshirt, utility belt and shoes until you were just in the tank top and shorts you wore under your jumpsuit.
“Shower now or later.” You asked, pulling him back into an embrace. Fives made a small wounded noise in the back of his throat.
“Later. Need you.”
You nodded in understanding, pulling him back to the bed, still lightyears better than a military bunk despite it’s cheapness.
Fives groaned softly as he sank into the lumpy mattress, reaching for you and pulling you close to tangle his legs with yours and set you up on his chest, unable to relax until your weight had fully settled down on him.
Kisses were traded, heartbreakingly soft as you two readjusted to each other’s presence. Fingertips trace every swell and dip, every new knotted line of scar tissue.
You thread your fingers through his hair, pulling yourself up for another kiss before resting your forehead against his, breathing the same air and reminding the anxious knot that always settled in your stomach that he was alive. He was here. Maybe not safe, maybe never safe, but here all the same.
“Lysatra?” He whispered after both an eternity and a single second. “You were going out there?”
“Mhm…” you hum softly. “They’ve been in a civil war for the last who knows how long. And there are rumors… a new species human-adjacent that waits on the edge of the galaxy.”
“Waits for what?” Fives murmures, dipping his head to press a kiss to your collarbone.
“Nobody knows. The chiss are little more than legends, mostly.” You sigh, tipping your head for better access. “And you? Where have you been?”
“Classified.”
“Fives…” You squeeze him softly.
“I know. I know. We lost our commander. Somebody framed her for a terrorist act and she left the jedi. Left all of us.” There’s a note of bitter acceptance in his voice.
“Tano?” You ask, trying to remember the name of the togruta Fives had described. He grunted an affirmation.
“It was a nightmare, trying to track down the person who fought for us so many times.” He sighed, mouthing at the skin beneath your jaw and biting softly, leaving a mark. A reminder that would last days after he was gone.
Your hands tightened in his hair, pulling his head up to look at you. Rough stubble scrapped your lips and cheeks as you kissed him, hard and fast as you can, teeth clicking together in your fervor to know, to ingrain every part of him into your mind. From the taste of stale caf and dry rations on his tongue to the smell of sweat and ozone that clung to him to the feel of his pulse under your skin.
“Mesh’la.” The word is mumbled against your lips, a plea and a prayer all the same.
“Fives.” You answer right back, pulling away after a moment before it became a sob. He let you distance yourself for a moment, hands coming up to trace your hips and thighs, fingers digging into perpetually sore muscle from sleeping in a pilot’s seat.
“We’ll both feel better after a hot water shower and you shave.” You say after taking a few deep breaths. Fives just watches you, golden eyes glittering in the dull light before he nods.
“You what to join me?” He asks into the space between you two. You give him a lopsided smile.
“Depends, what do you need from me tonight?” You ask, sliding off of him and reaching down with your good arm to haul him up. His lips thin, the haunted look flitting through his eyes again.
“A good night’s sleep.” He whispered.
“Nightmares?” You ask, reaching up to cup the side of his face and tilt his chin up to look at you. He closes his eyes and leans into your touch.
“They’re not as bad with you here.” Fives admits. You kiss his forehead.
“Go get in the shower, my love. I’ll take the next one.”
He slips reluctantly from your hold, leaving you with your thoughts as he takes advantage of a real water shower. When he emerges, skin reddened from the heat and freshly shaven, a towel around his waist, you grin. Fives winks at you, fidgeting with the top of his towel?
“Like what you see? I am Kamino’s finest after all.”
You can’t help a laugh at his antics.
“I won’t argue that. Get dressed, or at least put a robe on while I wash our clothes.” You said, collecting his blacks and wrapping yourself in a towel before removing your own undersuit and dumping them in the small washunit under the reheater in the corner of the room.
You showered fast, mindful of your injuries before stepping out in one of the inn’s provided robes.
Fives was in the bottom half of his blacks when you reemerged.
“Wash is done.”
You nodded, slipping on your underclothes and shorts before crawling onto the bed next to Fives, who instantly pulled you in and snuggled into you, kissing the back of your neck.
Skin hunger, he had called it once. After days or even weeks of being in their armor clones craved skin to skin contact like a choking man does air.
You let him take what he needs, enjoying the proximity.
“You still owe me… intel…” His sleepy voice rumbled from behind you.
“Datachip. I left it with your armor.” You replied. Fives only gave a sleepy hum in response, pulling you in close. You chuckle slightly, relaxing into him.
“Good night, ner’cyare.” You whisper.
#arc trooper fives#fives x reader#arc trooper fives x reader#clone wars#star wars#the clone wars#tcw fives#GingerWrites
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1998 Birmingham - Number 22 - Dana International - "Diva"
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Dana International taking to the stage in Birmingham to huge cheers with arms wide to receive them is one of the definitive images of Eurovision. A woman who had been staying in the only hotel in Birmingham with bullet-proof windows owing to death threats from reactionary, possessively patriarchal purists with no ability to manage their own disgust and a perverse desire to demonstrate their impotence in public.
She is the figurehead of representation in Eurovision. In 1998. All the way back then, a trans-woman can sashay to the front of the stage, with a huge grin, and tell the world that she's a diva. The diva. In 1998. Last year, 1997, was the first year an out, gay man performed at Eurovision and already Dana International is winning the whole shebang.
You have to admit this was a brave move by the IBA. There was no national selection competition in 1998, no Kdam. Dana International was internally selected, chosen by the organisation to represent them and the nation of Israel. Yes, she'd already had two hit, platinum albums in Israel, several hit singles and been named Best Female Artist of the year in 1994. She'd finished second at Kdam 1995 scoring points from every regional jury. Within Israel she was a star, so choosing Dana International was not a risk in that sense of picking someone without pedigree or talent. They were picking a star. But to have Dana International representing the country? They knew what the reaction was likely to be and it was them who would catch the flak.
Did I say this was all happening in 1998 yet?
Outside of the death threats and internal complaints within Israel, it's astounding just how instantly accepted she was by absolutely everyone else. She was definitely on the pages of the more traditional, red-topped and acid-texted papers. Yes, there was a subtext of disgust, but at this point, Dana International was to them a creature of fascination. An oddity they didn't understand and maybe one who would end up ridiculing Eurovision, something they absolutely loved to mock. To them Dana International was someone who fitted right in to Eurovision and it was Eurovision that was their target not her. She was perfect to flabber Terry Wogan's gast. A weapon for them to use rather than to abuse, for now at least.
Their mistake was not to realise that Eurovision didn't give a shit. Eurovision loves Dana International. He absolute Diva attitude, keeping Terry, Ulrika and Katrina waiting on stage for minutes after she'd won a hugely exciting three-way battle for Macedonia's final points to claim the win. Wearing the feathered frock by Jean-Paul Gaultier that she'd decided not to wear for the performance at the last minute, but felt she just had to put on to collect the trophy - which she never picked up - Dana International returned to the stage and instead of heading for Katrina to acknowledge the win, strode to the centre of the stage to acknowledge her audience.
Eurovision was proud of her. Glowingly ecstatic. It didn't matter if anyone tried to use her against the competition and all that it was increasingly openly representing. Eurovision owned every last morsel of the veiled criticisms and the feigned shock that followed. This was us and always would be.
Dana International's win has always been about who she is and what she means rather than the actual song she's singing. It's a club track, an easy floor-filler and an easy and joyous sing-along to celebrate women and their power. It doesn't matter a jot how musically complex or rich the song is, it does what it needs to do and it's been doing it ever since.
There is a woman who is larger than life
There are senses that only she possesses
There is magic and there are hard days
And a stage that is all hers
Viva the Fucking Diva.
#Youtube#esc#esc 1998#eurovision#eurovision song contest#birmingham#birmingham 1998#Israel#Dana International#IBA#Viva the Fucking Diva
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2017- Baku-
And Daniel ricciardo’s in that fight and Nico Hulkenberg as well.... AND DOWN THE INSIDE GOES DANIEL RICCIARDO!! WHAT A MOVE FROM THE AUSTRALIAN!!!! He’s picked up a couple of places in one corner!
I love how much emotion he shows on the podium. Every single podium/win has always meant so much to him!
Dan pulled off an amazing comeback after starting P10, he would take a well deserved win in an action packed race. He would need to pit on lap 6 to remove debris from his brakes and come out in P17. There would be 2 safety cars before lap 20, the second one under which Seb drove into the back of Lewis’ car and then drove up beside him and turned into him. He claimed to be brake tested however onboards showed that Lewis never brakes. He was placed under investigation and was given 10sec stop/go penalty for dangerous driving. The race was red flagged on lap 22 due to the amount of debris on the track. While waiting for the race to start Dan was heard telling Marko that he would get them when the race restarted. When the race restarted Dan overtook three cars in one corner to get himself into P3 with one of the best moves I’ve seen in the 10+years I’ve been watching F1. The top 4 of the race would begin to pull away from the rest of the field. After serving his penalty Seb came out in P7. Lewis would be forced to take a pitstop after his headrest became lose and he couldnt force it back in himself making it a safety issue. Dan would control the rest of the race from P1 finishing ahead of Bottas, who would take P2 from Stroll just before they passed the finishing line. Stroll would sore his first podium one race after scoring his first points. It was Dan’s and Red Bull’s first win of the 2017 season.
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Double Lives
summary: Casey is not supposed to be here. The universe attempts to rectify this error. (post-rottmnt movie)
notes: cw for some slight horror themes
read on ao3
Casey can't show off too much, or it'll give him away. He hangs back instead. All the other hopefuls are peacocking for the coaches by the stands—weaving between cones and back, shooting fast, then faster; blades biting severe lines across the ice.
Soon a scrimmage picks up. Easy now, Space Case. He prowls his own corner, rolls his shoulders back. Waiting. A few parents cheer for their children. Casey tongues the bitter sore in his mouth, like no one's son. Pain flares, incandescent and necessary, but Casey keeps his ground because if nothing else he is a good student.
Tides, he knows, can turn just like that; a slight lift in the wind, the minute darkening in the cloud cover heralding a storm.
A whistle blows. A dozen hockey sticks crash like thunderclap for the puck at center ice. It slingshots right through frantic legs—right toward Casey.
There.
Casey bares his teeth behind the mask and whacks his stick against the ground, twice; old habits.
Little rink rage you got there, Raph once said, when he caught Casey pitching stray pucks into the net with single-minded ferocity. It had been on one of his janitorial shifts at the center, and Casey had nearly broken the damn mop with each swing. But Raph only grinned; so unlike the austere gash of man in all of Master Michelangelo's yellowing photos, smiling sweet and wrong all over. Everything in this world feels wrong. Someone keeps rearranging the street signs each time Casey bends down to tie his shoe. The sunsets are all the wrong shade.
Then there's hockey.
And hockey, Raph promises, is in his blood.
The puck slows by Casey’s feet. The moment sinks in amber.
For one honeyed moment, the horde of sweating, pink-cheeked teenagers only stare from the outer edge. Then, the moment unlocks: they swarm towards him from all sides. Casey's pulse hammers the equivalent of a high score in a pulverizer machine, but it's not yet time.
A little closer.
Casey doesn't know how it happens, but the boys' faces start to shift too; up close, their skin drips like the aftermath of a landslide, muscle hanging loose like debris caught in the mire. His hockey stick thrums in his hands; he can almost hear the phantom whirr of it; clumps of hair and dirt and Kraang gore in its blades. A coming-of-age gift, from his eccentric Donatello-sensei. He needs a weapon, Dee. One way or another kid's gonna find a way to dish out some damage, see?
The boys are close. Close enough Casey can smell the vile Kraang on their breath.
His body tunnels with instinct.
By the end of it, when they throw him out of the rink—two concussions bestowed, four loose bloody teeth, and twenty-seven traumatized kids later—Casey asks: so, uh, did I make the team or what?
He doesn’t understand the boggled expression Leo makes, or the aborted laugh that comes a half-second later. Not the sad flutter of Mikey's eyes. Raph's see-through smile. What's wrong with you? The question imposing itself between every shared moment.
Casey's glad they never ask it aloud, because he's trying to figure that one out too.
He only knows that tonight, on that ice, he'd felt, for once, like any regular boy, with one thing that was all his.
Leo cares for him as much as he can. Tracks him down when the bad feeling in Casey's chest feathers into a restless bird that keeps taking off for bar brawls and gang skirmishes and alleys that glint with secret knives.
Another black eye. Another frantic police call.
Leo never once faults him. Leo tries to teach him everything he knows. But Master Leonardo?
Leonardo taught him to hunt.
It's sensei's hand that slides the mask back on Casey's face. The guiding force that compels him onwards, away from his soft hammock at the lair, towards the silvered-blue edge of this city where the hunt still lives, and Casey goes teeth bared and swinging; old habits.
.
.
.
It follows.
In dusty windows, in every gray puddle, in the screech of city trains, in the stretch of time before dreaming and waking, in the tinnitus of near silence, in the seconds before he hits the tail end of a car with his bike, in the terrible hitch in Mikey’s voice, in the grim set of Leo's jaw while he bandages another set of splintered knuckles, in carnival rides, in the shrieks of people not dying, in the pit of his stomach never acid-empty, in the skyline never bloodshot-red, in this New York but not his New York, in all his kaleidoscope dreams, in every blasphemous stutter of his still-beating heart, the voice finds him.
You are not supposed to be here, it says, panicked. The voice shuddering with the weight of holding him together. You don’t belong here. Get out get out get out GET OUT
.
.
.
Something is wrong, Casey mumbles, losing it on some moonlit alley, his fingers and chainsaw hockey stick slicked with green ooze and something he has no name for. The stick slips from his shaky grip. It clatters to the floor, dry—a simple broom now. His hands, too: horrifyingly clean. Casey stares at them, not understanding. Sensei—Leo. Something is wrong. With me—
Easy, easy now, Case.
We got you, Casey.
Shit—he's going into shock. How is that possible? Nothing's—
Alright, Dee, why don't you just help me keep the big guy upright?
Casey's legs have gone offline. Faces around him, parsing in and out. What he recognizes as Master Michelangelo's face, softened by age and forbidden runes, hovers with anxiety over him. When Casey blinks, Mikey is young again, his eyes shiny with tears.
Can you walk? Donnie asks by Casey's left. He's sixteen, all 100% organic limbs—the left arm he offers as a crutch. But when a cloud passes overhead his friend is transfigured, a half-machine horror.
Donnie looks stunned when Casey only stumbles back, stuttering.
C'mon, buddy, Raph tries; the full moon behind his head glitches into the Technodrome and back. What's wrong? It's just us.
Casey shivers as another electric impulse passes through him. His body someone's bristling conduit, white-hot and straining with the force of two power sources—twin deathless stars of the past and future. But where else can he go? Static tosses in answer inside him, almost oceanic.
Hey, hey, hey, it's gonna be alright, okay? I'm so glad we found you this time, you scared me so much, you dingus, Leo's telling him. He picks up where Donnie left off, shouldering him upright to deposit him gently on a plastic crate by a brick wall. Cradles his face, with a borrowed tenderness Casey remembers from a future that will never be, bleeding through the seams. The universe is tearing itself apart. He can almost slip right through.
Leo interprets the mute horror in Casey's eyes for something else, says something about a med kit, and promises a tender, hey, Leon's here now, okay?
As Casey stares, Leo's image splits into two—
I'll be right back, Leo says, turning to go.
I'll never leave you, Leonardo says, and reaches right for him.
#rottmnt#tmnt fic#bigdamnher0#rottmnt fanfiction#rottmnt movie#rise casey#rise leo#auuugh it's rough out there for our future boy
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Atari 2600 Chronicles 1980 #5 - Night Driver
The more early racing games I play, the more I realise that Super Bug was an almightly fluke when it comes to my enjoyment of them. Every single one that came before or after has not been my cup of tea, to say the least. Might be my fault considering i'm not using the right controllers for the job. I dunno.
Now, at least Night Driver brings something new to the table, it's a home console take on the German game Nürburgring 1 from half a decade ago. It's major claim to fame is that it simulates a 3D effect by letting objects get larger as they 'come closer' in your view, on a road determined by what I think are meant to be pylons. First time since Star Ship since i've seen it attempted on 2600, and it's a fair bit more convincing this time around.
The draw distance is easily the game's greatest weakness unfortunately. Considering the speed you're going at, *especially* if you flick the difficulty switches to increase that, you can hardly react on time to what is coming and therefore you crash. A LOT. There's oncoming traffic that gets in your way at the most ridiculous times too. Making corners at the higher difficulties is a near impossible task as a result, even slowing down when you know one is coming has been unsuccesful for me.
Once again, it could well be that the game does get better with a paddle controller. I am considering getting the 4-in-1 paddle package and it does include Night Driver (and Breakout which is also due a re-review). Counterpoint to that is, I have seen some videos about it and according to the comments, even back in the 1980s, people have struggled to get to grips with the tougher tracks and would prefer to play the beginner track or the randomly generated one, which I would agree with. Disappointing to see that it is not just my skewed perception on the matter.
The Verdict
Graphics (5): This game would've scored so much better if you could actually see what was coming. The traffic looks well detailed and the 3D effect is fairly convincing once you get 'into the groove'. It doesn't matter in the end of the day, you speed past the extra details in no time flat and the immersion is ruined if you collide with a... pole, pylon, sidewalk, you know, the things on the side of the road. It looks weird to have a violent explosion happen by a rectangle.
Sound (5): BEEP BEEP. BEEP BEEP. BEEP BEEP. BEEP BEEP. That's your soundtrack if you play with traffic warning signals ON. Turning the warnings off only makes it more likely that you smash yourself out of contention for a high score. That's not amazing game design. The driving and explosion sounds are precisely nothing new, though I don't see how they could've improved on those at this moment in time. I got annoyed pretty quickly.
Fun Factor (4): Better than Monte Carlo as it at least attempts something new. It's a shame it's all a shambles as crashing is so goddamn easy and completely kills your momentum. A game that is meant to be super fast slows you down mega often, how ironic. Track 1 is so simple that you essentially end up doing the same exact things over and over again for 99 seconds, and that is if you DO manage to avoid bashing your car to bits. That's the best one as you can briefly experience the raw speed this game has on offer. Missed potential and a half. Don't even bother with tracks 2 and 3 if you aren't hyped to go slow in a fast game.
Longevity (5): That leaves the random track and the core concept to pick up the slack and... we're reeeeeeeeeeeeeeeally past the point where getting points for distance travelled is any good for a seperate title. I could see high score chasers having a brief go at it if they are blessed with masterful reaction times, maybe? The random track is a cute idea and can be oooookay for 5 minutes to see if you can have a string of luck with the corner selection. You need to stretch the definition of longevity extremely thin if you want to get your money's worth.
In Conclusion
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hold on. peterick sentinel x guide au. the Bond. the slightly unhealthy codependency. having to hold themselves together for the sake of the agency/band even though they're breaking apart. physically needing each other. anger at being forced together but loving each other all the same. hating that one side of the pair is putting themselves in danger for the mission. how many times can i wait for you to come back to me so i can fix you, until one day, you don't?
i feel like either dynamic works.
sentinel!patrick x guide!pete: sentinel!patrick is begrudging towards the whole guide process, which is essentially healing via sex/physical touch and kind of hides away from physical intimacy w his assigned guide!pete. patrick might be new to the agency, but he's lived with his powers for all his life and he prides on having control (but he has that control bc he blew up in the past and he keeps a very tight control on his emotions so it doens't trigger his powers). so even as he goes on missions, he doesn't /need/ pete's guiding. so after the necessary hand holding, patrick usually leaves quickly.
and pete on the other hand, he's been at the agency for longer, and he hasn't found a sentinel. and he's kind of insecure about it, thinks that he's kind of a unstable guide bc of his track record - he'd be paired up with a sentinel and they'd start off as compatible, but as time goes by, it just. stopped working. and while no one has /blamed/ pete, pete kind of blames himself for not being a good guide. so when patrick turns up and pete and patrick has like a super high compatability score, pete is over the moon bc he instantly clicks with this new guy and he really wants it to work. so he puts in the extra work of trying to be really friendly and cheerful, and being clingy and touchy to ease patrick into physical intimacy they'll eventually have to do, but patrick keeps on brushing him off. and pete can feel through their psychic link that patrick doesn't hate him or anything, it's just, it feels like patrick is deliberately putting a wall in between them.
so there's angst and misunderstanding and the slightly dubious consent nature of guiding that pete is now used to, and patrick does not like, until Something Happens and patrick really needs the guiding to heal. more angst. they kiss, they make up, etc. etc.
guide!patrick x sentinel!pete: i feel like this would follow the slightly more usual sentinel guide au route, where we have the super powerful sentinel who is really reckless and is devoted to the mission and doesn't really care if they come back alive (and maybe slightly brainwashed into thinking they're just an asset for the agency). pete's known all his life he's destined for greatness, he's got all this powers, etc and even though he's burning himself alive, he gets back to the field right away. he's never had a guide that was compatible with him, so the pain he feels after a mission is something he's used to.
and guide!patrick. he knows pete isn't doing well, but he feels like there's little he can do. and he's heartsick over constantly waiting for pete to come back, because he wonders every single mission if this one is the one where pete is not going to come back from. and there's this unhealthy edge to it because there's the psychic link and all the emotions are jumbled together.
so when pete first gets the guiding from patrick, his knees almost buckles bc he's never felt this /relief/ before where there's no pain in his body and the sensation of patrick's warm hand in his. so once he's gotten a taste of the guiding, he keeps coming back to get guiding. but it doesn't stop him from continuing to be reckless on missions. it's second nature to him at this point, that he doesn't even consider that he has someone to come back to. and so there's this internal conflict where he knows he has patrick, but it doesn't stop him from going back to his previous behaviour. and there's another sick edge where he's so addicted to the relief the guiding brings, that he almost relishes in being hurt in a mission because that means patrick is going to come and fix him.
and patrick does. he cries, he shakes, his nails cut his palms waiting for pete to come back, but each time, he goes and he "fixes" pete up. and they know what they're doing, /how/ they're carrying out this sentinel/guide bond is wrong, but they can't stop bc they each think they won't be able to heave the other if this stops.
and so there's more angst, Something Big Happens, does pete fails to return from the battlefield one day, does patrick say enough is enough i need to leave, are they forced to carry on like this bc the agency likes the Results? who knows.
#ive read most sentinel guide fics in korean#so idk the fandom terminology#parks and rec meme : its about the CODPENDENCY#peterick#vampylily.txt#this kinda got away from me so here's a word vomit au ig#rpf#wip
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i was tagged by the wonderful @crimsonicarus to share a snippet of one of my WIPs!!
i couldn’t decide if i wanted to post a bit of my mcstrome one or my mick/esteban one, so here’s a snippet from each!! (my apologies, the first one is a little long.)
despite all the rain
Dylan really isn’t a big fan of taking faceoffs against McDavid, but they are, quite frankly, the easiest part about playing him.
Training for faceoffs is less about the speed of your body and more about reaction time. Dylan has good reflexes. So when the arena goes quiet for that split second between the time the ref blows the whistle and when he actually drops the puck, Dylan steadies his breathing. Track the puck, don’t look at your stick. If you don’t win it immediately, do what you can to wrestle it from the other guy–don’t let him pass it cleanly back.
Dylan takes a shaky breath, not looking at the yellow CCM stick in front of him, instead watching the referee’s hands, preparing. Then the puck drops and he wins the draw, sweeping an easy pass back to the defense.
Whip’s earlier acknowledgment of the energy was on point; it’s one of those games where all the lines are working hard, some of the guys who usually fly under the radar finding important moments to shine through. Alexeyev has a quality block, rewarded with pumped-up hollers and stick taps on the shin as he passes by the bench. The bigger guys are doing their thing, throwing their bodies around and getting some good, clean hits in there.
The Capitals aren’t in a playoff spot at the moment, but they could be. There’s still a month and a half of the regular season, enough time to play catchup to the current Wild Card teams, still only behind in the runnings by a handful of points. This road trip is important. Dylan imagines the announcers are probably saying something about how this little Pacific swing could quite possibly define the season for the Caps— to make the playoffs or to not make the playoffs?
With the game tied at one going into the second (a powerplay goal for Osh and a killer snipe from Nugent-Hopkins on an odd-man rush), the team knows they have to take it up to the next notch, understands that they have to capitalize on the puckluck and good vibes tonight or forever hold their peace.
McDavid gets the puck stripped from him early in the period. The Caps bench is full of cheers and shoulder bumps at that.
Dylan would be lying if he said he doesn’t feel the need to prove himself every time he plays Edmonton. When everyone’s eyes are drawn to number 97 anyway, it’s easy to pretend that there’s no extra reason Dylan’s gaze follows McDavid between shifts. It’s easy to pretend that there’s no reason Connor would or should look back at all.
Dylan still wishes he would.
It’s early in the third that the floodgates fully break open for the Caps, the score having been stuck at 3-2 Washington since the middle of the second. The fourth goal is Dylan and the fifth might as well have been credited to him, fishing the puck out in a tough battle against the boards and deking out the defensemen before giving a slick saucer to Sheary, the pair of them getting herded into a good old Tom Wilson hug after the goal.
Dylan and Connor’s eyes meet as Dylan skates toward the bench to high-five the boys. It’s brief eye contact, but God, it has meaning.
won’t we see you once again? (in foreign soil, in foreign land)
Mick doesn’t bother too much with getting to know new people. He prefers consistency, enjoys conversations threaded with inside jokes, old stories, no expectations.
Esteban had looked pretty in the Spanish sun, his eyes appearing amber and his grin as inviting as ever.
Mick had let himself enjoy it. He was single now—no guilt for appreciating the beauty of life.
Offering up Mallorca just made sense. Mick, for some reason, has never minded showing Esteban the places most dear and private to him. He likes it that way.
Thinks the lack of walls between the two of them is nice.
Thinks the lack of walls between them could one day amount to a lack of physical distance. Hopes, anyway.
Esteban wears that grin no matter who he’s with.
Still, Mick hopes the way the French driver bites his lips softly while in conversation with Mick is purely reserved for just that. Conversations between just them.
#yes the second one is the mallorca vacation fic that i’ve been stuck on for like a month don’t mind meeee#and the first one i literally started in april 💀💀 writer’s block hit in early july and now it’s been stuck at 11k words ever since#fanfiction#wips#writing#mcstrome#micksteban#nhl#f1
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debrief with kevin magnussen - episode 2 out of 3 (by viaplay):
the current state of affairs (filmed after the italian grand prix with six races to go)
at the first half of the season, the car was fast and the reason they did not score points every race was due to errors and bad luck, but now the car has lost its speed and that’s the main challenge
kevin admits that the last few races that he has been behind mick and that it is frustrating. apparently, kev has been experimenting a lot more with the set-up to try and make up for the lack of speed, but says in the interview, he is going to backtrack and get back to where he is comfortable since he has not really found anything. due to the constant change of engineers, kevin has had the sole responsibility for the car set-up, which has not been optimal as he is obviously not an engineer.
for kevin, it is super important that the car is stabil when he is going into the corners. when he was chasing a set-up with the most speed, he sacrificed some of that and he has learned that he struggle too much without having that stability. he says it is one of his weaknesses.
kevin and his engineers
he started with ed, then he got dominic in the middle of the season for three races, then mark for one race, then dominic again, and then mark for the rest of the season, so it has been quite messy but kevin said that’s just the way the cards were dealt, but obviously it has not made his job very easy (mai note: it has nothing to do with kevin by the way, ed and dom were both promised a different role at home at the factory before the season even started!)
the big update
the single big update the haas had during the season was a small but safe step forward, they got what they could out of the update pretty immediately. kevin says it was more important for guenther that the guarantee of the car getting a little better instead of taking the risk of either the car massively improving or getting worse. in 2019, haas did throw a lot of money at updates and it actually made the car worse, which is one of the reasons why gene wanted the team to be able to run itself without being solely dependent on his money. it is basically what forced haas to hire two rookies with loads of money, so guenther wanted to avoid that situation again.
kevin says it is a good strategy to take a small but safe step forwards, they just need to have those kind of upgrades multiple times every season. he believes this will be possible with more money.
kevin and mick (head to head)
kevin has always felt faster than mick in qualification, he has never really been worried and can explain away most of the times that mick beat him in quali with car issues or making a crucial mistake during the lap, but he admits that mick has been better than him during the races several times. they have recently learned that kevin’s driving style does not suit the car after the upgrade when it comes to the tyres. basically, kevin’s superpower of having great starts and being extremely quick the first few laps completely kills his rear tyres now. whereas mick is more steady throughout the race and gets more out of the tyres. this was a new development post upgrade, which obviously suited mick better and left kevin having to change his approach to races.
kevin’s penalty in monza
during the start, kevin is caught behind two aston martins and a williams side by side on the track. there is no room for all three of them, so one car has to back off and that is latifi. kevin quickly realise this and then does a move to avoid latifi who he is nearing quickly. but bottas does not realise this and then drives into kevin and pushes him off the track. but kevin quickly rejoins the race and is now ahead of some of the cars in front of him, but they swiftly overtake him anyway. but he got a 5-second penalty for gaining an unfair advantage. when asked about his penalty, kevin initially said it was his fault, but that was because he thought he had gotten the penalty for going beyond track limits three times. and there is not really anyone to blame for that. but when he is told exactly why he got the penalty, he could not understand it at all since he was pushed off the track and did not really gain any advantage. the contact with bottas even broke his diffuser, so his car was even broken afterwards. he did criticise bottas for being too focused on him and not latifi. like he says, you have to not just watch the car in front of you, but you have to look two cars ahead and bottas failed to do that. when asked about the penalty, kevin said that he was used to the fia making strange decisions by now.
singapore and brasil
the next race at the time was singapore and kevin was a bit daunted by it, admitting that the race is the toughest of the season due to the heat and the humidity. he even said there were races there, and some other places, where he does not remember the last half of it because of dehydration. but he also said that singapore is the race everyone thinks about when they need some extra motivation when working out, they know they have to be in great shape to get through it.
hilariously kevin admits that interlagos is not really his cup of tea as he thinks the corners are too long. he does think it’s a pretty fun track and he loves the history, but he likes tracks that are more focused on the attack. he likes “v corners” more than “u corners” where you can outbreak others. the track does not really suit his driving style. (mai note: obviously, he said all of this before getting pole there, so i am sure his opinion has probably changed quite a lot now lmao! but it is interesting that kevin managed to get pole on a track that he does not think suit him, i think that’s very impressive)
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usually a big fan of ur takes esp succession so i hope this doesn't come across mean or anything. i will say tom did still track her cycle whether he folded after and told her he still did it and tried. was he successful? im not really sure when tomshiv baby was conceived but i will say i don't think that's something that gets brought up that many times esp when it comes to what hurts shiv just to say it means nothing bc he did tell her after? i also think that happening in the marriage along w the betrayal which did happen before the divorce i guess which i think we've seen know that logan is awful to shiv but he still decided to side with her abuser. i just think just like the stuff tom said to shiv was very valid. the stuff shiv said were also right
You're not being mean at all, no worries! But I didn't deny that he tracked her cycles. I specifically mentioned it to highlight how dumb his "plan" was and how absurd it is to argue that he was doing it secretly to exploit Shiv's body without her knowing. Tom's plan was to have a baby to secure his future position in their business and personal relationship. That plan did not involve tricking his wife to have a baby against her will. The reason he gleefully announced his plane was to convince Shiv to agree. Tom often uses his enthusiasm and eagerness to convince Shiv to do what he needs of her. He dropped his plan as soon as she told him "no kids". He didn’t even try to argue his case for more than a few seconds. That's not how a man would act if he believed he had the power to abuse the reproductive rights of his wife. Was he bitter about it? Of course. But that's all he could do: be silently bitter about it. The silence broke now because he finally had enough power to hurt Shiv back and weaponize his bitterness against her.
As far as the whole Tomshiv fight scene, there is no denying that Tom was way more brutal and cruel. But that's only because he had enough shit against Shiv to hurt her with, and she didn't have much against him. The longer the relationship stays semi equal, the more opportunities Tom will have to hurt Shiv. And best believe she's gonna keep score of every single hurtful word or action. If they ever have a second epic fight; I feel like Shiv will "win" that one.
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Leclerc says Ferrari 'absolutely maximised' Azerbaijan weekend after claiming first podium of season
Charles Leclerc secured his first podium of the season in the 2023 Azerbaijan Grand Prix, after taking pole in the Sprint Shootout and pole for the Grand Prix, and while he said Ferrari got the best result possible, he admitted there was more to be done.
The Ferrari driver led the Red Bulls off the line on Sunday in Baku but Max Verstappen and Sergio Perez eventually breezed past Leclerc and it was Perez who won the race. Leclerc did however take his first podium – plus P2 in the Sprint – to take 22 points and jump up to sixth in the drivers’ standings.
READ MORE: Perez leads Red Bull one-two in dramatic Azerbaijan GP to cut Verstappen’s championship lead
“I’m here to win and obviously second, third, is not what I want," said Leclerc. "Considering the first three races which we’ve had, scoring six points in three races, this weekend is better – we didn’t have any problems, it was a trouble-free weekend.
"I think when I look back at the weekend I look back at every session and I think we maximised absolutely everything in every single session, so on that we should be happy; on the other hand there is still work to do."
He continued: “I think Aston Martin is quicker than us and has a better car than us in race pace. Red Bull has a much better car than us in terms of race pace and that’s where we need to make the biggest step forwards. In qualifying over one lap, with the juice of the tyres taking a bit more risk, we managed to do two poles but then over 51 laps race distance it’s impossible.”
Team mate Carlos Sainz rounded out the top five ahead of Lewis Hamilton, having been passed by compatriot Alonso after the Safety Car restart, and the Spanish Ferrari driver said he lacked confidence to attack the track at Baku.
“I had to focus on just controlling Lewis, making it to the finish line in P5 without any mistakes, because today there was just no confidence to push in the car, to get close the walls," he said. "When you feel the car very loose around Baku, it just is what it is. We will now focus on what happened. We will finally have a bit of time to settle down and analyse what could have been, and I’m sure in Miami we will be back on form.
READ MORE: Perez relieved his tyre ‘didn’t blow up’ en route to becoming first ever multiple Azerbaijan GP winner
He added: “I think we’ve extracted performance out of the car but if you look in detail at our race pace, compared to the Astons and the Red Bulls, they still have relatively much better race pace than qualifying pace compared to us.
“This is very high up on our list of things that we want to understand why, because definitely the points are on Sunday and that’s where you want to be quicker.”
Ferrari head to Miami fourth in the constructors’ championship, 14 points behind next-best team Mercedes – having outscored the Silver Arrows by 16 points in Azerbaijan.
via Formula 1 News https://www.formula1.com
#F1#Leclerc says Ferrari 'absolutely maximised' Azerbaijan weekend after claiming first podium of season#Formula 1
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10 Songs That Remind You Of Your Muse || Black☆Star Edition
1. Everybody Loves Me - OneRepublic
Don't need my health
Got my name and got my wealth
I stare at the sun
Just for kicks all by myself
I lose track of time
So I might be past my prime
But I'm feeling oh so good
Yeah!
Oh my!
Feels just like I don't try
Looks so good I might die
All I know is everybody loves me
Head down
Swaying to my own sound
Flashes in my face now
All I know is everybody loves me
2. How Legends Are Made - Sam Tinnesz
I've got that lightnin' inside me
Son of a God
I'm like a titan that's risin'
Oh just you watch
I'm steppin' into fate
There is no time to waste
I've got that lightnin' inside me
This is how legends are made
I'm crankin' up on the throttle
Victory is mine
Show you the harder the battle
The harder I fight
I've come too far to quit
Step back I'm goin' in
I'm crankin' up on the throttle
This is how legends are made
3. Legend - The Score
Here we go, here we go
It's my turn to make history
Here we go, here we go
When I'm gone they'll remember me, yeah
A dreamer with the fever to be great was all I ever want, was all I ever wanted
A fighter with the fever for the fame was all I ever want, was all I ever wanted
Got me singin' like
Bang, bang
Bang, bang
Bang, bang
This fire's a weapon
Bang, bang
Bang, bang
Bang, bang
Won't stop till we're legends
4. You’re Going Down - Sick Puppies
Define your meanin' of war
To me it's what we do when we're bored
I feel the heat comin' off of the blacktop
And it makes me want it more
Because I'm hyped up, out of control
If it's a fight, I'm ready to go
I wouldn't put my money on the other guy
If you know what I know that I know
It's been a long time comin'
And the tables turned around
'Cause one of us is goin'
One of us is goin' down
I'm not runnin'
It's a little different now
'Cause one of us is goin'
One of us is goin' down
5. Undefeated - Skillet
Left for dead but I will rise up on my own
I could make it alone, I got all that I need to survive
Through the sweat and the blood, I know what I'm made of
It's the hunger that keeps me alive
This time, I'm coming like a hurricane, this time
I came to fight for the love of the game, unstoppable
That's why I, I'm undefeated
Off the leash, out of the cage, an animal
That's why I, I'm undefeated
I, I, I know I can beat it
Won't give up 'cause I believe it
Fight for the love of the game, unstoppable
That's why I, I'm undefeated
6. Gladiator - Zayde Wolf
Tell me what it is that you think you believe
Caught in a crossfire, trouble at sea
Every single day I feel that gold underneath
I see the locked doors but I got the key
I'ma give you a second just to catch your breath
'Cause I can see that your heart is jumpin' out your chest
I know you gave it all, 'cause I've already seen your best
It is time you accepted this
Gladiator, gladiator, gladiator
Picked a fight with the gods I'm the giant slayer
Boneshaker, dominator
Freight train, wrecking ball, I'm the gladiator
7. STAR WALKIN’ - Kayla King
Been that bitch since I came out my mama
Thankin' God Daddy never wore a condom
Prove 'em wrong every time 'til it's normal
Why worship legends when you know that you can join 'em?
Th-These bitches don't like me, they don't like me
Likely, they wanna fight me
Come on, try it out, try me
They put me down, but I never cried out, "Why me?"
Word from the wise, don't put worth inside somebody that ain't try
They said I wouldn't make it out alive
They told me I would never see the rise
That's why I gotta kill 'em every time
Gotta watch 'em bleed, too
Don't ever say it's over if I'm breathin'
Racin' to the moonlight and I'm speedin'
I'm headed to the stars, ready to go far
I'm star walkin'
8. Thunder - Imagine Dragons
Just a young gun with a quick fuse
I was uptight, wanna let loose
I was dreaming of bigger things
And wanna leave my own life behind
Not a "Yes, sir," not a follower
Fit the box, fit the mold
Have a seat in the foyer, take a number
I was lightning before the thunder
Kids were laughing in my classes
While I was scheming for the masses
Who do you think you are?
Dreaming 'bout being a big star
They say, "You're basic," they say, "You're easy"
You're always riding in the backseat
Now I'm smiling from the stage
While you were clapping in the nosebleeds
9. High Hopes - Panic! At The Disco
Mama said, fulfill the prophecy
Be something greater, go make a legacy
Manifest destiny, back in the days
We wanted everything, wanted everything
Mama said, burn your biographies
Rewrite your history, light up your wildest dreams
Museum victories, every day
We wanted everything, wanted everything
Had to have high, high hopes for a living
Shooting for the stars when I couldn't make a killing
Didn't have a dime but I always had a vision
Always had high, high hopes
Had to have high, high hopes for a living
Didn't know how but I always had a feeling
I was gonna be that one in a million
Always had high, high hopes
10. Glory - The Score
This is not another story
This is not another drill
I refuse to be another number now, never staying down
This is something real
I'm a name that you'll remember
I am more than just a thrill
I am gonna be the greatest ever now; watch out
I'm a force that you will feel
I'll be more than just a fable
I'll be written in the stars
I will never be too afraid to bleed, giving all of me
Even when it's hard
Oh, I started as an ember
Who was meant for kerosene
And now I'm raging like a fire, burning up
Through everything I see
#I Am The Star || Black☆Star#I have a playlist for him on my spotify and it's a good going to work playlist
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This post is long, but trust me it'll make sense after.
I was only 15 when my life fell apart.
Sounds like an exaggeration doesnt it? I can promise you its not.
I was a very active, very busy kid. I ran cross country, I did 4 separate track and field events, played soccer, volleyball, floor hockey, lacrosse and played fastpitch softball for just over 10 years. This is not counting my involvment in Girl Guides and playing piano for most of my life.
I had a lot going on as you can tell but the sport that stood out the most to me, the one I really enjoyed was Fastpitch Softball. Since the year I started I'd won nearly every championship game I played in. The game was easy, but not too easy and I loved it.
One year, back in 2014, was the first time my team didn't make the gold metal game. We did, however, win the bronze game. Heres how that went. At the beginning of the game, we were approached by our manager who told us that a team from the league below us had to cancel their game because the other team never showed so they would play with us. Mad as it made us we had no choice but to play with them.
Come toward the final inning, I was a runner on third base and really wanted to get another score to even out the game. Once I had an opening, I started running toward homeplate to try and steal a point. As I started running, the pitcher had the ball again and threw it towards the third baseman but she missed. The ball fell from her glove and into my running path just as I was putting my foot down onto the ground.
You see, with the way the ball was rolling I thought it would continue on it way under my foot and I'd be fine. I was apparently wrong. Not even a fraction of a second after that thought crossed my mind, the ball stopped. I stepped down and rolled my ankle on the ball. Now, any smart athlete would continue their way to home plate and then sit out the rest of the game. I, however, did not do that. We were tied. All my team needed to do was not let them score any goals. I was supposed to be the middle outfielder with two of the lower league girls on either side of me.
This would have been fine on a regular day. This was anything but a regular day. This was the bronze medal game. And I was injured. So as you could imagine, I was fairly stressed! After playing for a few minutes and our pitcher making beautiful throws with only a few hits, one girl made a pop-fly. The ball flew into the air and right for the right field. As the ball was coming down toward the back of the field, I noticed the rightfielder wasnt paying attention. (Very very dangerous btw. ALWAYS WATCH THE BALL!) Seein this I made a split second decision to run for it. And I did. I ran as best I could on a freshly rolled ankle and barely missed the ball. Once I picked it up and threw it to the pitcher from the back of the field I knew we were going to win.
All because I made a split second decision to forfeit my ankle for the game. And it worked, we won! I did however have to stay off the feild for about two weeks. Which wasnt good considering I had a tournament in two weeks.
I could have just not gone. I probably should have stayed home but I didn't because I wanted to play so damn badly. So I went.
The morning of the tournament, it poured. By the time we had to leave the rain had already stopped but I thought they would have postponed the games until the next day. But we played that day anyway on the muddy, wet dirt.
The tournament did not start well. We barely got any runs in and didnt win a single game. So by the time the final game came along we were fairly put out. We just wanted to finish this game and go home.
Fisrt inning came and went. No one scored. The second inning, the other team got a point or two putting us at 0-2. When it came my turn to bat, I was determined to at least hit the ball. So when I did I was ecstatic! My energy came back and I ran to first base. Stopping there so I didnt get tagged out. When the next batter came up to the plate I got ready to run.
After about two pitches, I finally hear that crack and I run. Then, I noticed the centrefielder throwing the ball to the second basemen. Realizing I was to far from the base to get there without helo, I slid.
For a bit of context, in the league I played in you had to slid feet first. In order to do that properly, you slide to the ground and put your left foot out, right foot resting on the outside of you knee to avoid your foot getting caught in the dirt and snapping back.
I think you can guess what happened next. As I hit the ground I realized that I fucked up. My foot was under my knee. I've done this before and nothing happened, I had a few scrapes on my arms from leaning back too much but nothing too bad. So I kept sliding, keeping my eye on the base.
I was safe. I got there on time, that good. But I couldnt get up without taking my foot off the base so I called a small time out. That was when I realized how much that snall fuck up actually hurt my ankle. I couldn't move it. I got my foot out from under my knee and tried to stand up but my right leg refused to move. So I asked the umpire fo help, telling her I couldn't get up. That my ankle wasnt moving.
She then got two of the opposing teams coaches and had them carry me off the field. I was humiliated and we lost the game but at least I tried, right?
When we got home the next morning my doctor told me that I sprained it. Saying the healing process shouldn't be that bad and because of how athletic I am that she wouldn't put me in a cast and to stay away from running for the next 3 months.
Because of this injury, I couldnt try out for the clubs travel team. And I bever played the sqme again. I used to be the best ourfielder in my club. I was a phenomenal player and I loved the game. I wanted that spot on the athletics team (travel team) but I couldnt get it. The next year I wasnt playing as well so I didnt bother trying out.
About 3 years later, when high school came around I decided to try out for my schools softpitch softball team. The first tryout went fine. One of my former teammates was there and I ciuld tell how bad she felt for me. This tryout was just for catching popflys and I didnt even get close to catching one. This hurt me. I used be able to do this in my sleep and now I cant do it from six feet in front of me.
When the next tryout came along I knew I would be in trouble because it was running and batting. After I hurt my ankle, running has never been the same to me. It used to comes easy, not that I was great but I wasnt as bad as I was here. When I hit the ball they threw at me, I ran for the bases. They wanted to see how fast we could run qll three bases to home. When I got past the second base I had to stop running because I nearly collapsed.
Well, okay I did. I fell to my knees in immense pain and couldn't get up. Again. I was humiliated. Again.
And all of a sudden my old teammate ran up to me, asking if I needed help getting up, which I did. After I successfully stood up I walked over to my bag, gave some shit excuse of my mother wanting me home early and left.
That day. The second I left the school I knew my chance of a career was over. I mean I already had an idea but it didnt hit until that day. And it hurt like hell. All I wanted was a way out of my house, out of my hometown, a way to leave my past behind and start a new life in a career that I found fun and easy. But that was over. I was stuck.
Stuck in a shitty home, in a town my country barely knew existed, living with shitty people and that broke me. It broke me because I realized that night that the life I thought I could have doesnt exist anymore.
I had to mourn a whole life that I had planned for myself at 15. At 15, I had to come to terms with the fact that I couldnt do something I loved anymore and that nearly fucking killed me.
Even now, 5 almost 6 years later I sfill get those feelings of whay if.
What if I hadn't gone to that tournament.
What if I didnt keep playing after I hurt my ankle.
And what if that teams game hadn't been cancelled?
Would I still be here? Maybe. Maybe not.
But its that image of what couldve been that kills me the most.
My ankle still hurts to this day. It never really healed. Theres no reason for the pain, it just is.
Its a sour reminder of what happened and I'll be stuck with it for the rest of my damn life.
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