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The Making Of: When I Win the World Ends

(For my previous Making Of post, see The Making Of: Cleveland Quixotic.)

I. 1999

It was the year of the cubicle movie. It was the year of Fight Club, of Office Space, of Being John Malkovich, of Three Kings, of The Matrix, and of American Beauty. It was the year of suburban malaise, of eternal sunshine, of ceaseless normality. A year of United States hegemony; a year whose chief terror was that THIS WAS IT.

Before the millennium turned and the towers fell, there was an initial challenge to this order, a completely inconsequential one made consequential by a newly minted 24/7 news media machine running out of noise to fill dead air now that people were sick to bursting of the Clinton impeachment. This challenge came not through war, revolution, or violence, but through entertainment. Children's entertainment.

And I was a child. Unaware of any cultural context, I knew only one thing: I loved Pokémon. I really, really loved Pokémon.

I owned Red Version, Blue Version, Yellow Version, Pokémon Pinball, Pokémon Stadium, Pokémon Snap, Hey You Pikachu, a Pokémon Tetris sort of puzzle game, even the Pokémon TCG game for Gameboy. I had ten to fifteen strategy guides for the games, an encyclopedia of the 151 Pokémon, a choose your own adventure book, an I Spy-style book. I had Pokémon figurines, Pokémon plushies, toy Poké Balls, toy Pokédexes. I had Pokémon stamps and Pokémon stickers and a deck of Pokémon cards. Not trading cards, just a standard 52-card deck with Pokémon pictures on it. Of course I also had the trading cards. A complete set of the first three runs, plus a special Mew card you could get from I dunno Toys R Us or something as part of some promotion. I had a guide for the card game that explained which cards were good or bad even though I didn't even play the card game. I had a Pokémon Tamagotchi and Pokémon pencils and Pokémon erasers and Ash Ketchum's hat and I dressed up as Ash Ketchum for Halloween. Of course I watched every episode of the anime, and in notebooks I drew doodles of existing Pokémon and came up with names for new Pokémon. My father had died that year.

My father was a sports fanatic. Traditional sports. He, too, collected. Sports memorabilia, baseball cards, figures of famous stars. When I was an infant, he drove me on a cross country road trip to Lambeau Field in Green Bay, Wisconsin, where I became a part owner of the Green Bay Packers. He had always wanted me to grow up and pursue professional sports. When I was born, the doctor apparently said to start looking for football colleges, a quote he saved in a scrapbook of baby photos. He had played sports himself, in college; he was a baseball catcher, until a hitter accidentally struck him in the head with a full force swing.

Almost everything I personally remember about him involves him dying. He was sick for a long time, and I remember hospitals and hospital beds and strange smells and gauze. And then one day my mother told me he died.

He was a charismatic man, very social and very popular. He had many friends and a lot of family, all of whom had constantly been around our house. Once he was gone, they stopped coming around. Then it was just me and my mother, who was not a fanatic for anything, except maybe her job as an elementary school teacher, which consumed her time as she assiduously prepared lesson plans and graded tests until late at night. When my father died, she got into some argument with his side of the family, the details of which I still don't fully understand, and afterward they no longer spoke. Her own family lived far away, out-of-state, seen only at Christmas. The house became quiet.

And I… played… Pokémon.

II. The Electric Tale of Pikachu

Toshihiro Ono was a mangaka primarily known for shotacon and futanari hentai. His credits such as Innyou Megami and Anal Justice made him a no-brainer pick for the officially licensed Pokémon manga, Electric Tale of Pikachu, as it too would feature a 10-year-old boy as the protagonist.

This manga would be the foundation for my conception of what Pokémon was, narratively. Though I also had the Pokémon Adventures manga that ran concurrently and which has by now long outlasted it, Electric Tale left a significantly deeper imprint on my memory.

In summary, Electric Tale is a retelling of the first two seasons of the anime. Ash Ketchum is the main character, he's accompanied by Misty and later Brock, his rival is Gary, and Team Rocket harangues him.

What sets Electric Tale apart is its tone, which is far more adult than Adventures and the anime. Obviously, part of this comes from the author's primary area of expertise being hentai. Even in the censored English version, there is a sense of sexual playfulness in how every single female character is an older woman who likes to tease Ash about his romantic interests.

But there are other elements that creep in unrelated to sex, due to the perspective of someone only used to speaking to adults who suddenly has to speak to children. Ono doesn't really get the childish fantasy of leaving at 10 being normal in society, so he introduces an element where Ash can only get a one year deferment from school and will have to return unless he hits it big. Team Rocket are former competitive hopefuls who flamed out and then, with no education or work experience to speak of, had no choice but to turn to crime. The Pokémon are depicted more realistically, often eschewing the toyetic mascot elements of their designs.

And the landscapes are often wistful, even apocalyptic in their presentation:

This more sedate, mature, realistic depiction of Pokémon became what I wanted Pokémon to be, what I projected onto an original Red and Blue version that left everything open to interpretation, and what would increasingly frustrate me with the series as it deviated more toward bombastic villain groups with goofy destroy-the-world plots. (Which was what put me off Pokémon Adventures.)

Amid all this, one panel stuck with me in particular. One panel I would think about ever since I first saw it as a child, that would turn around in my head and keep coming back. That panel would eventually—over two decades later—become the basis for When I Win the World Ends, the seed from which an entire story grew:

III. The Unkillable Demon King

But in the interim, the seed remained dormant. 1999 fell away. I grew up. I played later Pokémon games and increasingly lost interest by around Gen 4 and 5. Then I went to college.

That's when I started playing League of Legends.

I was something of a psychopath in college. I operated on a strict schedule and did not deviate. Wake up, read 50 pages of classic literature, write 2,000 words, go to classes, study, and then by about four in the afternoon all my obligations were done and it was League of Legends until midnight.

I wasn't actually interested in the League of Legends esports scene in its infancy. In 2012, I was actually invited to attend its World Championship in Los Angeles and refused. (When I received this invitation, I had just finished reading Homestuck for the first time, and was caught in a month-long haze in which I could do little but bask within what I considered the greatest artistic achievement I'd seen in my life. It was this month that inspired Modern Cannibals.) I only liked playing the game and watching Dunkey videos.

It wasn't until the next year, when a girl I was interested in recommended I watch, that I tuned in to my first professional League of Legends game, at the 2013 World Championship. It was there that I got to watch this new, hyped, upcoming Korean player who had apparently taken the pro scene by storm that season. That player was Faker.

It has seemingly become essential to the narrative of any sport that there is "the man who always wins." American football has Tom Brady, and the moment Brady retired, he was replaced by Patrick Mahomes. Basketball has LeBron James, picking up the mantle from Michael Jordan. It's as if someone being "the best" validates the skill-based promise of the sport, the fundamental top-down fairness of its premise, the idea that the person who wins is the best and deserved it. Faker would become the backbone of League of Legends esports and his ascendance correlated to that of the sport itself, from its humble roots at small-scale tournaments in places like Jönköping, Sweden, to max capacity arenas in the biggest cities in the world.

It's surprising, though, how the legend of Faker had already begun even before he won his first World Championship. League of Legends was designed as a clone of Defense of the Ancients (DotA), a popular mod for Warcraft III that emphasized competitive play. In its infancy, the competitive scene was mostly dominated by players who had migrated from DotA to League. They were older, winning thanks to a fundamental conceptual understanding of the game that was superior to everyone else, and frankly not very good in the aggregate. As League of Legends esports exploded in popularity from 2013 to 2015, these old pros would get filtered out swiftly, with even the biggest and most popular names retiring after only a couple of years in the scene.

Even once the new generation of League-grown talent ascended, though, careers were nasty, brutish, and short. The best players only remained on top for a season, as game patches dramatically changed viable strategies. Internationally the sport was dominated by Koreans, with the Korean regional league sometimes being seen as more difficult to win than the World Championship, where Koreans often breezed through uncompetitive Chinese, European, and North American squads.

This possibly affected the demographics of the professional scene. South Korea has mandatory military service, and leaving the pro scene to join the military was basically the end of a Korean player's career. This meant that it was rare to see a Korean player older than 25. Retiring in your early 20s was and remains common. Korean organizations, which had an infrastructural leg up on other regions due to the popularity of StarCraft 2 esports in the country, became adept at scouting promising players at 15 or 16, building them into top level competitive pros, wringing them dry for a few seasons with brutal training regimens, and spitting them out.

Faker was the exception. Though he had been discovered young by SK Telecom, a major Korean telecommunications company that did esports on the side, and gone through the training regimen, he refused to be spit out. He simply didn't stop. He won in 2013, then with a completely new four-man squad around him won again in 2015 and 2016 before narrowly losing the 2017 finals in a nail biter. Given League of Legends esports had only existed since 2011, he basically accounted for half of the championships up until that point. Nobody else, except for his teammates, had won more than once. And it was like it was known he would be this juggernaut the instant he manifested ex nihilo. Like it was known, even in 2013, that he would always win.

Then, Faker stopped winning.

By 2017, League of Legends esports was a titan. Venture capital firms, seeing the millions of eyeballs, thought that this was the next NBA in its infancy, and decided to get in on the ground floor. Multiple millions of dollars were pumped into the scene as even mediocre players in weak regions like North America pulled seven-digit salaries. In China, where League of Legends had become the national pastime, the nation's richest oligarchs ran teams for fun and vanity, outbidding Korean organizations for top Korean players in pursuit of a trophy that had gone to Korea every year since 2013. Riot, the studio developing the game, pumped tons of money into creating a professional sports product, with skilled announcers, dedicated arenas for regional leagues, live performances by musicians like Imagine Dragons and Lil Nas X, and all the other bells and whistles one might expect from a program watched on ESPN.

In this milieu, it seemed like Faker had finally reached his limit. He was still good, but not the best. Even as an individual, while everyone still considered him the "greatest of all time," he was considered outmatched by newer pros like Chovy and ShowMaker. 2018, 2019, 2020, and 2021 passed with no championships. In 2022, on a team of mostly rookies, he reached the world finals, but was ultimately beaten. Korea's stranglehold over the sport had been shaken by China, which had finally strung together some championships. People wondered if Faker would retire, although he had managed to avoid mandatory military service by representing Korea in the Olympics-esque Asian Games. He'd dealt with wrist injuries and his level of play dropped year over year. He just didn't seem to be that good anymore, potentially holding back his team of talented young players rather than leading them to victory.

Then, in 2023—

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And in 2024—

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In the end, never count out Touchdown Tom. 11 years of professional play, 5 world championships.

From this longwinded explanation, you might have realized that after watching that game in 2013, I became a League of Legends esports fanatic, fulfilling the prophecy set before me by my father though perhaps in not the way he would have expected.

And the things I become a fanatic about, I want to write a story about.

IV. Modern Cannibals

There's a deleted scene in Modern Cannibals, as Maximillion is driving Z. and her friends through the Utah desert. He starts to talk about Pokémon.

"I bring it up because my university thesis was about Pokemon in particular how Pokemon has basically trained an entire generation of children to think in a completely different way than preceding generations my generation for instance our fad was Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles now I don't know how much you know about Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles but from an educational standpoint we're talking absolute bankrupt complete and utter goose egg but Pokemon now Pokemon you see it's more like there's some substance to it you know that refrain Gotta Catch Em All right?" "..." "Well to most parents it looks like a marketing gimmick you make one hundred fifty-one characters and structure a game around collecting them the merchandising potential is astronomical kids buy one hundred fifty-one trading cards stickers coloring books figurines uh collectable lunchable toys I'm sure you've got some yourself."

He continues:

"But really you look at the game itself before the big toy explosion the game itself the focus is placed less on the collection and more on the catalogue you're given a blank encyclopedia to fill and you fill it by capturing one hundred fifty-one Pokemon but the goal is to create a complete database of each and every one and this is what I argue is the educational core of the Pokemon series." His hands left the wheel to conceive of his idea in the cool air of the car, which remained steady on its ever-forward path. "Our modern era is no longer one of singular isolated knowledge it is one of the catalogue the database which is most clearly personified in the advent of the internet because now all knowledge can be at the fingertips of any one human being all that is needed is someone to go and put the catalogue together and presto whiz bang it's there think about it Z. when you catch a bunch of Pokemon where do you store them?" Z. didn't need to think long to remember the game's mechanics. "In the PC." "Exactly now isn't that odd consider it in real life terms you have real life creatures made assumedly of flesh and bone and yet you store them in a computer how does that make sense you'd expect a farm or a holding pen but no it's the computer and that too prepares the budding portion of the millennial generation to become cognizant of the linkage between the computer the encyclopedia and the database structure of knowledge in a new era." "So," said Z. "So you're saying Pokemon taught kids how to think in the digital age?"

There's also a deleted character in Modern Cannibals. Well, mostly deleted—he still shows up, unnamed, in a couple of pages. He is Cole Coulter, Z.'s older brother, a popular League of Legends streamer. Before I deleted him, his role was to accompany Mrs. Roddlevan and Frederick in an attempt to bring Z. back home. He had POV scenes that gave insight into the weirdness of his cotravelers, but ultimately, I decided he didn't add anything to the story and removed him almost entirely.

Even then, though, I was already considering the future of Cole Coulter as the protagonist of a story about League of Legends esports. Playing under the ID MadKing, he would be a North American professional top laner, once known for his aggressive duelist style but recently forced into playing boring tanks as the esports metagame became more sophisticated and tactics-based.

The story would be simple, something I envisioned as a "sports story" only about esports instead of regular sports. It would start with Cole's team being relegated from the league, only for Cole to get a last chance signing to a new team with two promising Korean imports. One import, the mid laner, would be a charismatic and eccentric player in the mold of Doinb/Ganked By Mom/Huhi, while the other, an AD carry, would be introverted and pissy and elitist, in the mold of Piglet. The team would initially struggle, cultures would clash, then a mid-season replacement to sign a psychopathic Tyler1/Tarzaned style streamer as jungler would revitalize the team, put them on a major run, and get them to the World Championship. Though they would eventually fall after a miracle run, Cole would get a moment to truly shine on the biggest stage when he won a pivotal game by aggressive split pushing rather than tank play.

Thematically, the story would be about two things. First, a counterpoint to the idea of American exceptionalism, featuring a league where Americans are particularly bad compared to Korean or Chinese players. Second, an exploration of what it means to be exceptional at all. Cole would be an all-around mediocre person. Middling at school, at (real) sports, at the various popularity contests of being a teenager. League of Legends, this niche sub-sport, is the one thing he truly excelled at, the one place where he was good, better than 99.9 percent of all players, and yet even within that statistical greatness he wound up, ultimately, in a professional scene where he was once again mediocre, relegated to "tank duty," to facilitating other players to carry.

What does it mean to be the best? How can someone be so, so good, only to reach a level where they were still nothing special? Is there any way to win if you're not "the man who always wins"?

I remembered that panel from Electric Tale of Pikachu. The last people filtered before the final champion. It's certainly no walk in the zoo!

This idea was pretty detailed for a story I never wound up writing, something I mostly blame on the years 2018 and 2019, when a lot of bad things happened to me and in retrospect I consider it a minor miracle I managed to finish Chicago at all. As a human being, I would be decimated for the next three years, and so a lot of stories I might have written in that time never came to fruition.

Meanwhile, League of Legends esports reached a peak, then the venture capital bubble burst as investors realized there was no monetization scheme in place for any interested party except Riot Games. Money hemorrhaged out, Riot shifted resources to Valorant, and a sport that had been overinflated based on projected exponential growth in perpetuity fell back down to earth.

Also, Players came out.

Players was a 2022 mockumentary about a fictional League of Legends team competing in the North American league. Conceptually, it was doing a lot of what I had planned for my story: following a single team on a rags-to-riches run, focusing on the interpersonal drama of the team members, asking questions about greatness and its pursuit. It's a pretty good show if you're familiar with League of Legends esports at all, with a lot of on-the-ground fidelity that gives it an authentic feel, which is exactly what I had been hoping to use my esports fanaticism to accomplish. It completely took the wind out of my sails; it was like my idea had already been done.

So by 2022, the idea of a League of Legends esports story was dead. But there was still a drive to create something with that spirit, that would delve into those themes.

What remained after all these years of sifting the sieve, letting sand slip through, was that one panel from the manga. The number of people pursuing greatness slowly filtering until only one remained. And if I wasn't going to pursue that idea through League of Legends, maybe I could pursue it through another vehicle. Maybe the vehicle through which the idea had originally been exposed to me. Pokémon. It all came back to Pokémon.

V. Everything Evolving Into Crabs

I knew immediately that if I were to write a Pokémon fic, it would be a tournament arc. This was the natural evolution of my esports story idea. Also, if I were to write Pokémon, I wanted it to be a story about utopia, immersed within Pokémon's near-future ideal world, where everything is clean and healthy, where society is neat and ordered.

This idea caused me to remember the novel Eyeless in Gaza by Aldous Huxley, which I had read a few years back. A mostly autobiographical bildungsroman written on the precipice of World War II, the novel ends with the young protagonist on a journey to Central America, where he meets an idealistic doctor who believes sport to be a proper substitution for war. He tells the story of two tribes locked in internecine conflict through generations, able to replace that violence with soccer matches.

And wasn't that what the world of Pokémon was, a utopia revolving around neutralizing weapons of war by using them for competitive sport?

This tournament, I envisioned, would not simply be about deciding who was best, but an ideological battle for the future of the Pokémon world. To that end, I imagined a war between an entrenched trainer class, who competed as philosopher-warriors, intense individuals with deep connections to their Pokémon, and an upstart commercialization that sought to replace the ideological underpinnings that made their society so safe and prosperous with economic accumulation. It was from this kernel that the character who would become Aracely Sosa arose: charismatic, appealing, human-empathic, and propped up by a support staff who did all the hard work of teambuilding for her.

I imagined the story having an ensemble cast, focusing on nearly every competitor equally, with the Aracely character not having any especial focus until her improbable rise to the top. I imagined a final round where she faced off against "the man who always wins," and though she would lose to him, she would seem to have won the ideological battle, altering the course of society as major corporations scrambled to employ her formula for success at a much grander scale. The story would end with this realization of the earth-shattering importance behind her run, only for Aracely to sink in disappointment. Because in the end, all she really wanted was to win.

The more I thought about it, though, the less I liked the idea of an ensemble cast. The ensemble cast element of Chicago hadn't gone over very well (though I like it), and I figured it would wind up inflating the length of the story considerably. I was coming to the end of Cleveland Quixotic, after all, and once more wanted to write something smaller, tighter, and denser.

So I oriented my thinking to instead have the story revolve around Aracely and one major rival, to give an interpersonal mirror to the ideological war being waged. Thus, Toril came about as an antithesis to everything I had imagined Aracely to be: gruff, antisocial, independent. Their rivalry would culminate in a semifinals battle, before Aracely went on to fight "the man who always wins" in the finals.

I forget exactly when the gender theme came into the equation, but it evolved as an outgrowth of (once again) my competitive League of Legends expertise, where women are essentially nonexistent despite there seemingly being no biological blocks against them. This dovetailed nicely with Pokémon, a world where women seemingly could be powerful competitors, but where—in the anime at least—none ever are. For instance, look at this chart of every major tournament in the anime:

Every known winner is male. Every known finalist and semifinalist is male. Only a handful of female characters have reached the quarterfinals. What possible in-universe justification could there be for that?

This question was actually far more prominent in early planning and drafting than it wound up being in the final work. Initially, I had Aracely's personal motivation revolve around a drive to be the first female trainer to win; this would increase the ideological conflict between her and Toril, who attempted to ignore that she was female altogether. Over time, this theme would see diminished importance in face of the last piece of the thematic puzzle: cults.

It came from reading Underground by Haruki Murakami, a nonfiction journalistic account of the 1995 Tokyo sarin gas attacks carried out by the cult Aum Shinrikyo under the direction of its leader Shoko Asahara. Japan in the 90s was experiencing its own End of History, one taken literally by those disaffected with modern society's grand narrative. The prophecies of Nostradamus became fashionable among the young, who believed that 1999 would be the final year before the world was destroyed. Murakami interviewed both survivors of the gas attack and members of Aum Shinrikyo, collecting worldviews of people who simply thought they were "different" and who were willing to give everything in their lives to the one place that seemed to accept that difference.

The 1995 attacks were a watershed moment in Japanese culture. In their wake would come pivotal works of Japanese pop media, like the titan of otaku culture, Neon Genesis Evangelion:

(What's scary about Nostradamus' prophecy is that it might not come true. A year whose chief terror was that THIS WAS IT.)

Pokémon, whose first games released in Japan in 1996, also emerged within this post-Aum world where fixation on the minutiae of pop media was becoming a primary pillar of meaning for the youth, and it's hard not to see echoes of cultism in the evil teams that dot the series' landscape. Even Team Rocket, originally more modeled on organized crime than occultism, veers that direction in Gold and Silver, and afterward the organizations and their world-ending plots become increasingly absurd, to the point where it starts to become unclear why anyone would ever follow, say, Lysandre.

As I mentioned earlier, my personal interest in Pokémon was at odds with these clownish, Saturday morning cartoon villain organizations, but Murakami's account of the Aum attacks recontextualized them for me, made them make sense even within the framework of a "realistic" utopian world. The last elements snapped into place, and I knew my main character would be the member of one of these cults. A cult dedicated to, what else? Evolution. A core element of the Pokémon series, a perfect metaphor for the frustrating lack of movement of the End of History 90s. I imagined a cult leader as a surrogate mother figure for Aracely, who would have a strained relationship with both of her own parents, and deciding on that, the idea of making Pokémon's canon evil mother Lusamine the villain was a no-brainer. I imagined a post-SuMo Lusamine, unable to move on from her experience merged with Nihilego, languishing in Kanto after being sent there to consult with Bill, who had his own experience being merged with a Pokémon... It didn't take long to figure out how all these pieces connected.

The full form of the story had taken shape.

VI. Showdown

I knew immediately I would be following Showdown rules for the battles. No alternative even crossed my mind. I had dabbled in Showdown a few times over the years, first in Gen 3 OUs, then later in Gen 7 OUs, and I knew from experience that Pokémon is a monumentally more interesting competitive game when operating at a high level compared to either its depiction in the anime (shounen logic, mid-fight evolutions) or the general playing experience (spam your best move on your overleveled starter). I knew I would use competitive rulesets before I even considered the thematic or worldbuilding aspect I would eventually take in the story itself (i.e., that the specific rulesets prevent battles from becoming bloodsport and enforce order on the world). I simply thought doing battles this way would be far more entertaining.

To prepare, I started playing Gen 9 OUs under the guidance of a few friends who were into the competitive scene. I grinded the ladder for months, eventually getting a good enough grasp on the metagame to reach 1500 Elo on the Showdown ladder, which is not very good but generally higher than someone can reach with dumb luck.

Crafting the tournament format and rulesets used in the story wasn't difficult. I modeled the tournament format on the League of Legends World Championship, with region-based seeds (having been selected due to performance in regional tournaments) competing in four groups before the highest performers advanced to a single elimination bracket. Initially, I envisioned a 32-competitor bracket instead of the 16-competitor bracket that would appear in the final draft, but otherwise the format came quickly and easily.

In terms of the rulesets and available Pokémon, my considerations were made primarily in terms of what would be most entertaining to read. I decided to include Mega Evolutions and not include Z Moves, Dynamax, or Terastallization, because Mega Evolutions are cool and those other gimmicks are not. The bring-9-pick-6 format, while unusual in Showdown rulesets, is similar to the rules in Pokémon Stadium and VGC tournaments, and also adds a level of intrigue to which Pokémon each competitor uses. (It also enabled Red's Zapdos at the climax of the story, which was something I knew I would bring out from very early on.)

With the help of one of my friends who knew competitive Pokémon, I scripted out each battle assiduously before I wrote them. Every battle was tested using Showdown itself, with only a few turns mocked up to account for luck. For instance, in Aracely versus Jinjiao, Slowking is meant to stay asleep for three turns. Rather than rely on luck to ensure Slowking actually slept that long during the test, I could give Slowking a useless move and have him use that instead to simulate being asleep.

The only thing that couldn't be tested in Showdown was the 7 PP Kingambit trick Red uses at the end of the story, because it's impossible to set a Pokémon to have fewer than max PP in Showdown. This led to one of the bigger mistakes of the story, as it turns out that Encore would simply wear off if Kingambit ran out of PP, rather than forcing him to use Struggle like I assumed. Luckily, even if this were the case, it wouldn't change the outcome of the battle, so it's not an error I lose too much sleep over.

Character teams were chosen to thread the needle between a few considerations. The team needed to be competitively viable, reflect the character's personality in some way, and be distinct from other teams for the sake of variety. (Variety is somewhat unrealistic in real top-level competitive Pokémon, where you'll often see many almost identical teams in the top ranks. But that would be boring.) Some lack of optimization was allowed under the conceit that actually training these Pokémon to peak form would take a lot of time in the real world, compared to Showdown were optimization can be determined quickly due to the ability to immediately adjust stats and builds.

I also tried to give some preference for Pokémon that would be more familiar to layman fans, though this was difficult because Gen 8 and 9 have outrageous power creep and many popular early generation Pokémon have been completely phased out. (Using Megas helped with this issue.) It was this consideration that led to Azumarill being Aracely's ace. There was also an innate challenge to imagining what the competitive scene would look like without legendary Pokémon. Zapdos and Landorus-Therian have been inexorable staples of the competitive scene for generations. What happens in a world where they aren't used at all?

In the original 32-person bracket, I imagined Aracely competing against Jinjiao in the first round, then minor characters Adrian da Cunha and Jacq Ray Johnson in the next two rounds, before facing Toril in semifinals. I imagined Adrian da Cunha as a "hometown hero" whose team wasn't great but he was plucky with a lot of grit, and Jacq Ray Johnson as a self-aware heel who liked to use cheesy strategies and gimmicky Pokémon like Smeargle and Ditto. Condensing from 32 to 16 occurred around the same time I had settled on Lusamine as my villain/cult leader, which led to replacing those two with Gladion. I developed full brackets for both the 32-man and 16-man iterations, with character names and regions, just in case I ever needed to mention them.

All that was left to do was write the story.

VII. Unbroken Line of History

I began writing in September 2023 under the tentative title Unbroken Line of History, which I would later change to simply Lines. In the original drafts, I opened the story with a modified version of the panel from Electric Tale of Pikachu detailing how people are filtered over time in their pursuit of being the best, this time starting with all 8 billion people in the world until only one remains. The story then cut to Aracely's perspective in the restroom as she mentally prepared for her final group stage match.

At this point I was more set on Aracely being the clear protagonist of the story, so she had a few facets of her personality designed around that. First, as I mentioned before, there was a feminist angle where she was motivated specifically to be the first female trainer to win the championship. Secondly, I threw in some more generic nervousness/fear of failure. The other major difference is that I did not lead with the cult prophecy of the world ending. I originally envisioned the cult reveal to be a mid-story twist, and only obliquely hinted at it.

The scene still played out with Toril appearing and the two getting off to a bad start. Then, Cely's father tried to talk strategy with her while she ignored him, before the battle transpired in much the same form as it does in the final draft.

I showed this early draft to my friends and most disliked it. My girlfriend at the time told me Cely sounded like an edgy 13-year-old boy, while my neuroscientist friend whose aspirational idol is Bondrewd from Made in Abyss wanted to know more about the oblique hints of a cult, finding everything else boring. Another friend said it was stupid that there were 30 seconds between turns during the battle and that the Pokémon should just go at each other; nobody would actually want to watch a battle that was paced so slowly. (I vehemently disagreed with that take. Basically every popular sport balances between slow-paced moments of strategy and fast-paced moments of action and execution.) Some people I showed it to did enjoy it, though. Gazemaize, the author of Chili and the Chocolate Factory, was especially enamored by the Brittany/Gardevoir reveal and the Bud Light Analyst Desk, and implored me to keep both of those elements at all costs. 7th, one of my friends who helped me with the Showdown stuff, was so into it she drew fan art of all the characters (which I've posted before) and also wrote eight pornographic short stories about them.

I rewrote the same opening scene several times across October and November, though these were minor iterations without significant adjustments. Frustrated with the lack of progress, I decided to take a break from writing to simply think about the story for a few months.

During this time, to fix Aracely's edgy 13-year-old voice, I decided to lean into her being from Pokémon Los Angeles (with her native region, Visia, being a play on "visual" as a reference to Hollywood) and gave her a Valley Girl accent. To prepare for this, I listened to hours and hours of ASMR videos of people speaking like Valley Girls and took notes on their inflection and syntax. It was here where I decided on Aracely's underlining quirk, as a way of capturing the unique style of emphasis Valley Girls used.

This also made me realize I needed to adjust Aracely's personality. Despite the tone of her voice, she was still acting antisocially. She didn't want to talk to her father, she didn't want to talk to Lachlan Nguyen, she didn't even really want to talk to Toril. Toril herself was a lump of coal. My own misanthropy kept leaking into the characters, even when I conceptually didn't want them to have it. I thought back to Cleveland Quixotic, and how what made the Jay and Viviendre romance work was that they actually both liked each other, and figured—even though I didn't have explicitly romantic plans for Aracely and Toril—that I needed to do something similar to make their rivalry truly pop. Rather than avoid people, Aracely would lean into talking to them, even if they were annoying. Although Toril remained frigid, there would be a part of her yearning for emotional contact, a way to coax her out of her shell.

I also thought deeply about the structure of my stories in general, and my inability to come up with good hooks. It was around this time that someone I knew was reading Chicago. They pointed out that the plot of Chicago doesn't really start until Chapter 26; that I was "burying the lede." I considered this. My logic, when writing Chicago, was that the Empire moving to take over Washington would be a twist, something that would shock and excite people and change their perception of the entire story.

But did that make sense, when really the story was "about" that twist? Didn't that just make everything before the twist harder to get into for a reader? Chicago might look radically different if I revealed the Empire's goals immediately, but it would also probably be a more immediately engaging work. I'm a big fan of delayed gratification in storytelling, but had I taken it too far?

This was a major revelation for me, and immediately I understood what I needed to do for my Pokémon story: move up the cult plotline. Place it front and center. Name the whole story after it even. I decided on framing the opening scene from Toril's perspective, depicting Aracely initially more as an alien other, emphasizing the fact that she was in a cult rather than hide it behind foreshadowing. This could also lead to Aracely and Toril having more of a dual protagonist setup, which would make my planned two-half finale (one half where Aracely battled "the man who always wins," one half where Toril got involved in stopping the cult's doomsday plot) work even better.

Confidence resurged. At the end of January 2024, my girlfriend of seven years and I broke up. A few days later, I started writing the sixth—and ultimately final—draft of When I Win the World Ends.

VIII. When I Win the World Ends

Now it's the part of the Making Of where I actually make the thing I'm supposed to be making, but there's a lot less to say about it. Once I have a plan, the actual writing of the story is the easy part, and most of what I wrote—with a few exceptions—looks similar to the story as it exists now.

There were some oddities. I wrote the first seven chapters (everything up to the end of the Jinjiao battle) and then had to take a two week break to write a short piece for a writing contest I had entered in December as part of an effort to stop overthinking WIW. After this interruption, I returned to WIW writing perhaps a bit more perfunctorily than I usually would, leading to an original version of Chapter 8 (the chapter where MOTHER makes her first real appearance) that was short and abbreviated. Later, in editing, I would rewrite most of this chapter.

A few ideas emerged while writing, like the motif of serendipity/Logos, which I felt tied nicely to the ideas of evolution and history. It was also in this draft that I introduced Cely's friends Haydn and Charlie, as a nod to an earlier work of mine also featuring a fashion-obsessed girl from Los Angeles. (Speaking of nods to earlier works, in the original 32-man bracket, Cole Coulter featured as one of the competitors, but he didn't make the 16-man cut.)

The process went smoothly. I finished the draft at the end of May, a little under four months after I started it. I had envisioned the full story as being about 70,000 words, but the draft ended up closer to 115,000. Underestimating story length is just an essential element of the trade, though.

A few days after finishing the draft I went on a four-day Oklahoma Darkness Retreat where I had access to zero electronics. The goal was to think about my story deeply and how it could be improved in the editing process.

In this time chamber, where I did nothing except complete crossword puzzles and read The Recognitions by William Gaddis, I came to a realization. There was one element the story needed that wasn't already there.

That element was Sabrina. In the original draft, Sabrina was not present during the scene where Aracely meets the Old Man. She was mentioned obliquely a couple of times in conjunction with Aracely's "psychic powers," but it never really built to anything. There was still a scene where Aracely was interrogated due to her relationship with MOTHER, but only by nameless goons, and the scene lacked tension as it was clear Aracely could talk circles around them.

When I returned from Oklahoma, I prepared for my conception of Sabrina as a character by writing an 8,000 word short story from her perspective, which hashed out an entire backstory for her. Then, I started editing the draft.

For me, a lot of editing is just polish. Usually, cutting out needless sentences and fixing clunky ones, as well as emphasizing a few of the more understated themes and motifs. For instance, during editing, I made slight additions to emphasize the thematic connection between Aracely's suicide attempt and the global war that almost destroyed the world, as well as the connection between the moon and cyclical insanity (lunacy, etymologically, being related to the moon). I made the Old Man more of a Walt Disney-esque figure (from my notes: "a dying Disney"), rewriting much of his dialogue to either be direct quotes or to evoke his ideals. I also expanded on several of the scenes where Toril and Aracely interact to make their relationship more complex and nuanced. I gave MOTHER some new dialogue, including her speech in Chapter 18 about loving a child for the potential it promises, while also paradoxically wanting it to remain a child forever.

The largest changes were in the three chapters I almost fully rewrote. The first was Chapter 8, which as I mentioned earlier was overly terse. In the original draft, it depicted MOTHER as more pathetic, more dependent on Aracely. I decided to make her a more threatening figure, and incorporated a few references to the Moloch sacrifice scene from Valle Verde to make her seem more like a false idol. Similarly, I rewrote Chapter 12, which was originally a very short chapter that focused solely on a conversation between MOTHER and Nilufer that ended with the order to kidnap Aracely. In rewriting the chapter to include Fiorella, I gave myself more opportunity to flesh out the respective philosophies of her and MOTHER (including some of the story's most salient discussions about why cults exist), as well as give more of an insight into the inner workings of RISE as an organization. And lastly, I fully rewrote Chapter 19 to include Sabrina.

The last changes I made in editing were to the final chapter. When I finished the final draft of the story, I sent it to several readers, many of whom had looked at the original drafts of the first chapter, as well as julirites, the author of a Fargo fan fiction called London. There was an immediate and minor backlash to the final chapter, which was originally much more pessimistic, from most people who read it. In the original version, Aracely and Toril were not still in communication. (Fiorella was also dying of cancer instead of jockeying to replace the Old Man.) The finale had a much more somber, sedate, tragic note. Juli and 7th disliked this sad ending, while Gazemaize wanted me to cut the final chapter altogether. I felt confident that the final chapter was necessary, though, and revised it to its current version, which was much better liked.

And then... the story was finished, near the end of July. I crunched the numbers and realized that if I posted two chapters to start and then did a twice-weekly posting schedule, I could end the story serendipitously on October 12. So I did.

IX. Names and Special Thanks

In my Making Of post for Cleveland Quixotic, I had a fairly extensive list of where I got all the character and place names from. The list is a lot less extensive here; most names I constructed for the purpose of sounding evocative, rather than taking them from someplace specific. For instance, I chose the name Aracely Sosa because it sounds like whistling with its repeated S sounds, compared to Toril Lund which is a lot harsher with its consonants. You can see a similar rationale behind names like Fiorella Fiorina, Yui Matsui, and even some of the background characters, like Jacq Ray Johnson, Jr., where there is a lot of emphasis on alliteration and rhyme.

There are a couple of exceptions. Jinjiao is the in-game ID of a longtime Chinese League of Legends pro of middling notability. He picked the name (which means "Golden Horn") as a reference to the Golden Horned King, a villain from Journey to the West.

Lutz, Fiorella's cameraman, was named after an extremely minor character from Fire Emblem: Path of Radiance, who is not playable and only appears in a singular cutscene before being killed. They are so irrelevant that despite naming a character after them, I actually forgot their name, which is Lotz, not Lutz.

Haydn is named after the famous classical composer.

Special thanks to 7th and Elick320 for helping me with the teams and battles. Thanks to Gazemaize and julirites, among others unnamed, for reading and providing feedback. And thank you all for enjoying the story.

#when i win the world ends #wiw #bavitz #the making of #writing #pokemon #fanfic #fan fiction #league of legends #faker #the electric tale of pikachu #Youtube

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tinydeskwriter · 1 year ago

Text

Lando NorrisxWolff!reader

words: 2825

requested: no

A/n: This is going to be a multi-chapters, most of the chapters won't be social midia or something. It is going to 'follow' the 2023 F1 season. Reader is Toto's eldest child by a fictitious ex- first wife. I just watched Break Point, with is another sport Netflix docuseries from the same producing company that makes DST, and since then I have this idea of a prodigy tennis player reader.

next part»

GQ 10 things Y/n Wolff can’t live without

“Hi GQ, I am Y/n Wolff and here are my essentials.�� The young woman opens her arms looking at the objects displayed on the table, before looking up and smiling to the camera.

# Sugar

“My trainer may not agree. My coaches may not agree. My performance coach may not agree. My parents definitely don’t agree.” She points out, “But I need sugar.” The young woman brings to the centre of the table a small pile of sweets, a tall cup of caffeinated drink and a can of Red Bull, “I live of sugar and… sugary things…”

“My day starts with this lovely peppermint iced mocha sweetened with vanilla sugar… a ton of vanilla sugar.” Y/n laughs taking a sip of her drink “I am weirdly obsessed with mint and chocolate combinations…” She comments looking at the camera, “I drink perhaps two or three of those per day,” The young woman then places her hand over the top of the Red Bull can, most people who follow her already know that she is an athlete sponsored by Red Bull, “sugar-free Red Bull, which ironically is sweeter than the regular one.” She puts her hand on the pile of chocolates, “Milk-chocolate, I am not going to lie and say that I eat the healthy stuff, I don’t, I have the taste buds of a child,” the tennis player smiles mischievously at the camera, “right now I am really into this Finnish chocolate, Geisha and the blue Fazer, daddy always keep those in his offices for me.” She wrinkles her nose a little, giving the camera a lovely—childish—smile.

“Aero Mint bar, Chocolate Orange, Maltesers, Bounty, Kinder, truffles…I'm honestly starting to wonder how we managed to get through customs.” She laughs looking at her entourage behind the cameras. “This is like… a fraction of what I usually travel with, this is more like what I have in my bag for the day.”

#Photos

Y/n played a little with a golden square object in her hand.

“I travel a lot, I am on the road from January to November playing at tournaments around the world, so I can’t always be surrounded or in touch with the people that I love,” she says in a slightly more serious tone, taking the golden case in her hands and pressing the button to open, showing pile of polaroid photos, “those are mini Polaroids, so I can bring them with me wherever I go, I keep them inside this vintage cigarette case that belonged to my maternal grandmother, she was a absolute rockstar and I miss her very much.” The camera takes a close-up on the golden case with rope motif and small colourful stones. “As I don’t smoke, I had to find another use for it.”

The first photo she shows is five adults together, smiling around a table, in what appears to be a ski resort.

“I have a very patchwork family, and somehow the adults in my life made it work…which I am very grateful for, not everyone is lucky to have so many amazing parents…so here I have my mum and my two other mothers, Stephanie and Susie, papa and my other father, Phillippe,” the second photo is her with a boy not much younger than her, two teenage girls and a small child in front of a Christmas tree, “my siblings, I have four, I am the eldest whatever way you go, huge flex,” the photo is followed by one of a pyjama party with several girls in matching pyjamas, and another of the tennis player with a blonde in front of the Eiffel Tower, “My gurls! This is my best friend, she is also my PA… so amazing to have someone I trust so much with me all the time…” a golden cocker spaniel with a crystal necklace, silk bows in its ears and a Gucci sweater appears on the screen, “this is Éclair Wolff, my emotional support dog aka my child, she actually goes with me mostly everywhere, but sometimes I leave her with my mum so she won’t be stressed by the long flights.”

She points to the next three photos, the first has the Mercedes drivers in Tommy Hilfinger, posing for the photo. “Lew and Georgie, the adopted older brothers I never asked for, but I love them.” The second photo has three other familiar faces making faces at the camera, “C2, my Ferrari boys, feat Pear, there is something wholesome about good looking men looking so silly, I love those guys and I love this picture, it is very on brand with them.” The tennis player smiles at the camera. “Sharls, Carlitos and Pear are three of the nicest guys I have ever met, it is truly a blessing be able to call them friends and having them in my life.”

McLaren driver Lando Norris, in his third or fourth season, apparently not even realizing he was having his photo taken, it's a spontaneous photo, the soft sunlight highlighting the driver's profile as he smiles.

“Because of karting, I’ve known Lando since I was a head taller than him, he was my first crush…he was so shy, so adorable, so babygirl coded.” Y/n blushed a little as she shows the photo.

“I think most of the current grid is in here…oh, look, it’s Lance! Friends from life, from tennis…” She quickly changes showing another photo. “I think I easily have about sixty photos here..."

#Camera

“I don’t have a specific camera I like more than the others, but as a rule, I prefer vintage cameras just for the beauty of the final result, I inherited a few, I bought a few, I usually develop the photos when I'm at home for longer periods of time, edit the videos, digitalize a few…” She points to the cameras in front of her, a Bolex, a Digital Bolex, a very iconic Rolleiflex and a Super 8, “It is a very nostalgic experience to just go through a year worth of memories…” She says resting her face in her hand, “I have a hundred boxes with pictures and film rolls.”

“I love going through old pictures with my mom and Cass, my younger sister, from when we were babies, my parents in the 90’s, my mom when she was young, the wonderful life my grandparents lived, and is such a lovely moment to share with my mom.” Y/n has a soft smile on her lips. “One day, when I have my own kids, I want to have those moments with them, and not just scrolling through a phone or an iPad.”

#Journals

“I keep journals since I was a child, I get a new one every year,” She holds up the leather hardcover notebook, a deep indigo blue, a little worn around the edges, “after I turned thirteen years old, I started to get it in this specific shade of blue, with my initials in gold,” The girl opens the journal, leafing through it briefly, “I am never going to write an auto-biography, it’s kind of a little bit too egocentric to my taste,” She knocks it closed, but keeps it up, looking at the camera as she speaks , “but if someone ever write about me, fifty years from now… the facts will be straight, at least from my point of view… but even if no one ever writes about me… when I am old and grey and memory starts to fail me, I will be able to come back to the thoughts of twenty years old me…”

There is a moment of silence.

“That was kind of dark.” Y/n laughs to break the tension.

#Art Supplies

“I love to draw and paint, it eases the anxieties of life,” The tennis player shows the large sketchbook, a small aluminium case with the watercolours, and the rolling leather case with pencils and brushes, “I always bring a watercolour travel kit with my sketchbook wherever I go.”

She displays for the internet some of the landscapes she painted during her travels around the world.

#Hoodies

“I like to be comfortable after a match,” she spreads her arms across the perfectly folded hoodies on the table, “and nothing is more comfortable than a hoodie, feels a little bit like home.”

“I have my collection of hoodies with Adidas, they always provide me with new cool colours to try out and see if I want to add to the next collection,” Y/n opens sage green hoodie, running her hand over her initials and the Adidas logo. “Enchanté by Dani Ric, I have a bunch of those, Daniel is always kind enough to drop them at my house in Monaco, VIP treatment baby.” She points to the white hoodie. “Quadrant hoodies, Lando’s merch, ridiculously comfy, I would really like them in pastel colours or dusty rose… just putting out to the universe…” Y/n smiles and winks at the camera. “Valtteri, MV1… those all came with me for the US Open.”

#Skincare

“This is part of my daily routine.” The girl opens the toiletry bag, taking out the products inside, “I am always in different countries and different hotel rooms, so is nice to have this little sense of routine.”

She lines the pearlescent bottles with opaque round lids on top of the table.

“I launched Muse when I was seventeen years old, it is my skincare brand, and it is very me. I wanted it to be un-complicated and complete,” The young woman explains passionately looking at the camera, “skin is the body’s largest organ, and it is not only your face.” It affects the hair on your face, tucking it behind your ear before going back to the product bottles. “The line goes from body wash to suncream to night-time routine.”

#Travel Pillow

“If I mess up my neck and shoulder, I am f***ed, my match is over and possibly the tournament.” She holds up a medium-sized pillow to the camera, the pillowcase light pink silk with red buttonholes around the edges and her initials in the corner. “So, this baby goes with me everywhere, it is a memory foam pillow with a silk pillowcase. Best sleep, best hair.”

#Sport Gear

“I generalized here, sport gear, I travel heavy, always,” she points to the array of equipment on the table, “this is my racket, I go to each tournament with around ten of those, just in case I wreak one on the ground,” Y/n passes her hand over the racket, “those are custom Yonex Ezone 98, they made it in Mountbatten pink with some cool pattern and my initials,” she smiles as she pulls the helmet close to her chest, “my helmet, also custom Mountbatten pink, with my initials in rose, I love to try new karting tracks, most people don’t know I used to race karts when I was younger, won a couple of trophies, went as far as F3 before I choose to go pro with tennis, car racing is a huge thing in my family…my dad used to race, my stepmom was a driver, my little brother probably going to be a F1 driver,” she recounts with a smile, “I joked once with my dad that we are at a window that if I have a kid in the next year or two, in twenty years we can have a Wolff’s drivers line-up for Mercedes.” The young woman smirks to the camera. “My dad almost passed out, and now I am not allowed to date until I am thirty.”

#Headphones

“Those are custom made for me, again, they are Mountbatten pink and rose with my logo, super comfortable on the ears, I usually have problems with headphones due to the piercings and earrings, but these didn't give me any problems, they fit well, and I can spend the whole day wearing them." She takes the gadget out of the case, showing the details. “It's not wireless, because I always forget to charge it, so it has a wire, they made this lovely, thick cord that is durable and super resistant,” Y/n wraps the rope around her fingers, “it is noise cancelling and it is always with me before every match as an essential part of my pre-match rituals.”

“The right music kind of puts you in the right mood, I usually go with Eminem in 80% of my matches, I feel like it unleashes my inner fighter, these are matches where I'm not really worried about my opponent, it is just raw and a little bit thoughtless, I just play,” she comments, “when I know that my opponent is going to be hard on the mind games, which is not an uncommon move in tennis, I tend to listen to calmer and more melancholic music, piano, it keeps me in a more peaceful zone, I don’t get pumped up and full of adrenaline, my game tends to be far more calculated…”

“That’s it. Those were my ten essentials,” the young woman smiles, “thank you, GQ, for allowing me to share my essentials, much appreciated, and thank you guys for taking the time to watch it! Much love and see you next time!” The athlete says, blowing a kiss and winking to the camera as the credits shows up.

__________________________________________

2,109,963 views Aug 29, 2022

978 Comments

userone

i was todays yrs old when i found out that tennis superstar Y/n Wolff is the eldest child of THE Toto Wolff

user1

From what little she talks about her dad here, u just get the vibes that Merce boss Toto is a softie girl dad, he keeps her favourite candy in his offices and forbids her to date until she’s thirty, this is so sweet

haterone

a billionaire’s nepo baby, talking about her millionaire friends and her unrelatable lifestyle and things

usertwo

Y/n’s hair is probably the healthiest hair i ever seen i need her hair routine

userthree

I am so obsessed with her career! I want to see her continue to succeed and be one of the biggest tennis players of all times. She deserves it. Such a talented, humble kid.

userfour

i loved hearing her talk about her family and friends!!! it is so crazy that she is close friends with a bunch of F1 drivers.

hatertwo

Not so crazy since she’s literally a f1 nepo baby, her daddy is part owner of Mercedes.

userfive

She's like that one super popular chick in school who's actually a total sweetheart.

usersix

I totally relate to her being a sweet tooth

@userseven

I love that she was not talking to the camera. She was actually talking to the people there behind the scenes

usereight

i love how a lot of these items are usually a stereotype of being pretentious—a vintage cartier cigarette case, a film camera, a leather bound custom hermes journal, art supplies--but she talks about all of them with such genuine interest and attachment that it doesnt seem pretentious at all

usereighteen

U r the one name dropping the brands she uses…

usernine

Her nicknames for Charles Leclerc, Carlos Sainz Jr and Pierre Gasly… I died dead…

user9

The fact that she’s gushing about lando and being so sweet about her childhood crush on him oml

user10

Omg it is so cuuute!!! Like, she had a crush on little Lando and not McLaren glow up Lando Norris

user11

I used to be so conflicted shipping her with the drivers, because she dates that tennis player, but her insta has a bunch of her and Charles and her and Pierre and her and Lance and it is so cute and kind of gives such soft vibes, those boys look half in love with her in most pictures, also ...the chemistry. but seeing the way she talks about Lando… they r my new diehard ship…

userten

Are we going to ignore that she confessed that Lando Norizz was her first crush???

user1

They would be so cute together… and they ate both single now… at the same time… we can dream…

user12

i went ten steps further and in my head, they are already getting married and having cute future Mercedes world drivers’ champions…

user13

Can we already dream of Lando at Mercedes???

usereleven

Ok… but didn’t Lando once commented like, very briefly, in a McLaren video, that he used to have a crush on a girl that used to go karting with him??? The girl who wore red ribbons in her hair… do you guys know who uses red ribbons in heir hair since she was an actual baby?? Y/n! There is a pic in her insta of her in a karting track with her dad, and she has red bows in her hair…

user11

Not gonna lie… It would be kinda of cute if they actually had a mutual childhood crush and then eventually end up together as adults…

next part»

#f1 imagine #lando norris imagine #lando x reader #f1 grid x reader #wolff!reader #lando norris #charles leclerc x reader #pierre gasly x reader #carlos sainz x reader #lance stroll x reader #toto wolff x reader

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notapradagurl7 · 6 months ago

Text

Sick Day In.

Black! Fem Readr x Orlando Johnson from All American: Homecoming.

(a/n: he is so fine. I loved writing this one.😫❤️)

Taglist: @lavnderluv @harmshake @sageispunk @soft-persephone @megamindsecretlair @westside-rot @siqueth @liatreads @torsiar @mypointlessdays @justhornyyme @cristallizednmesmerized @satoruya @planetblaque @hoodbarbiesims @harlemheiress @glitterperms @amplifiedmoan @avoidthings @judymfmoody @life-in-the-slut-house @keyera-jackson @tryingtograspctrl @nzia-writes @multiversefanfics @thecookiebratz

Summary: You were feeling under the weather in your college dorm so your boyfriend Orlando visited your dorm and helped you get better.

——————

You lay slouching against the white bed sheets, cocooned in light green blankets. Your fingers plucked another dark green tissue from the bedside tan table, as you blew your nose with a sniffle. Sliding off the twin bed, you peeled back the covers, revealing white socks gliding over the grey carpet. Frustration set in you as you tossed yet another tissue into the overflowing mint green bin, rolling your brown eyes, and pursing your lips.

A quick hand wash in the compact bathroom, and you returned to your bed, surrounded by the eggshell white cinder block walls in the average-sized dorm room, The walls were adorned with your own artwork, and a cherished family photo. Just then, a few gentle knocks on the door pulled your attention.

"Who's there?" you asked, you weren’t in the mood for company right now.

You were an art major and college student at Bringston University, an HBCU in Atlanta.

You were dedicated to your studies and held the position of club president in the art club.

Your strict academic schedule and demanding leadership role left you with little time to rest. Unfortunately, you fell ill and were forced to spend your summer cooped up alone in your dorm room, unable to enjoy the sunny Atlanta weather. Your hard work and dedication have taken a toll on your health.

You had been looking forward to the summer break to relax and recharge, but your plans were ruined by the cold. You missed your family and friends, who were all back home, and wished you could be there too.

Despite feeling sick, you had still managed to inform your boyfriend, Orlando about your not being able to make it for their date tonight. Although he empathized with your condition, he was still eager to spend some quality time with you. You appreciated your boyfriend's concern.

During your art class, the two college students crossed paths and soon became partners on a collaborative project. It was then that he witnessed your natural artistic talent, admiring every stroke and technique you used.

The two of you worked together, you found it endearing that he took such care in learning how to handle a paintbrush. Your partnership blossomed into a friendship, with you cheering him on at his baseball games and him buying your art supplies when you lost them.

Eventually, your friendship evolved into a romantic relationship and he proved to be an exceptional boyfriend. Attentive to every detail, he never missed a beat when it came to you.

You were grateful for Orlando's support and love and he was grateful for yours too, especially during times like this when you felt helpless and alone. You knew you could always count on him to lift your spirits and make you feel better.

In her comfortable attire, you sported a grey tee shirt that was matched with a pair of grey sweatpants that clung to your legs. You wore white tube socks on your feet, while your raven box braids, gently swayed in front of your face. Your hands were tucked away in your pockets, and the room was filled with the sweet aroma of vanilla, emanating from the trio of candles on your nightstand. The thin, white blinds allowed the gentle sunlight to peek through and shine upon your brown skin. Serene silence fills the room.

"It's Orlando." He said outside of your dorm room, made your heart leap with excitement. You practically skipped over to the door, your hand eagerly grasping the metal door handle.

You slowly swung the door open, your face broke into a smile at the sight of your boyfriend standing there. Without hesitation, you welcomed him inside your cozy dorm room, his hand holding a bag filled with everything you needed to combat the cold you had. Orlando holding a bouquet of red roses. You couldn't help but smile at the sweet gesture as you closed the door behind him.

"Hey, baby," Orlando greeted you with a gentle kiss on your forehead, "I brought you some soup, medicine, and your favorite snacks, your favorite movies. A bouquet of red roses to cheer you up."

"Orlando, Thank you. You're the best." Your eyes glinted with gratitude as you took the bag and bouquet from him, carefully placing it next to the nightstand while putting the flowers in the purple vase. He wrapped his arms around your waist, hugging her from behind. You felt your heart fill with affection for him as your cheeks grew hot.

"How are you feeling Y/N?" Orlando asked in a gentle tone, as he leaned in and rested his chin on your shoulder. His thumb gently rubbed over your stomach, hoping that his presence could bring some good to the summer that had been tough for you.

"Still pretty crappy, this cold won't go away but don't you have a baseball season this summer? I hope that I didn't get in the way of your games," you spoke in a gentle tone, shaking your head as you looked at him.

Orlando gently shook his head, his hands cupping your face as he turned around and

Faced you forward to meet your gaze. He locked eyes with you, his tender touch causing her chest to flutter with nerves. He didn't want you to think he didn't care about your well-being.

"I only care about being with you this summer. You've been overworking yourself and it pains me to see you like this. I'll skip another season." he mentioned softly, his thumb swiped over your cheek.

"Let me take care of you baby," Orlando said in a sultry voice, his gaze fixated on your. He nibbled on his lower lip, as if contemplating the next move.

Your heart raced as you soaked his words, understanding both senses but feeling unprepared for what he had planned. He leaned in for a kiss, but she quickly turned your head, redirecting his lips to your cheek. "I don't want you to get sick," you pouted.

"Let's wait until I get better." you added, you didn't want to risk his health for momentary pleasure.

Orlando let out a contented hum and turned his attention to your bottom lip. After a brief moment, he looked back into your eyes and uttered, "One of the many things I love about you." He then leaned in and planted a gentle kiss on your cheek.

You knew you were lucky to have someone like him in her life and so was he. The two of you sat on your bed, watching movies and enjoying the soup and snacks, you felt your cold slowly start to fade away. But more than that, you felt the warmth and comfort of your boyfriend's love.

—————

The night sky crept up on them faster than anticipated, but with the help of medication, a steaming bowl of soup, and some cough drops, your cold went away.

Orlando's back leaned against the light green plush pillows with your back nestled against his chest and he gently laid his chin on top of your head while he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer to him. "Feeling better?" he asked, his voice low and soothing.

You nodded, snuggling further into his embrace. "Yup, thanks to you," you replied, your voice still a bit hoarse.

Orlando chuckled. "I'm just glad I could help." They lay there in comfortable silence, enjoying each other's company. The only sound in the room was the soft hum of the air conditioner.

Orlando placed a gentle kiss on your cheek and used his index finger to lift your chin. "Now that you're feeling better, can I take care of you?" He whispered in a low tone. You flushed and nodded, "Yes, of course, baby."

Your lips met in a passionate kiss as you tilted your heads in different directions, exploring each other's mouths with your tongues. You let out a soft moan as the kiss intensified, leaving a trail of saliva between your lips as you parted.

"Orlando can you lock the door really quick?"

——————

Your naked back laid flat against the white bedsheets with his hands held your hips in place while his slim hips rocked into you, while your fingernails sunk into back muscles and your mouth hung open to let a chorus of moans, "Oh shitt! Orlando!" you moaned loudly, your eyes locked intensely, your thumb traced the outline of his lips while he smirked against your brown skin, he trailed kisses up to your breast. The bed creaked from their movement, you shivered with pleasure, sending tingles down yourr entire body. He plunged deeper into you while you arched your back off the bed.

Orlando lowers his head to pepper warm kisses on the sides of your neck and sinks his teeth into your neck gently, leaving hickeys on your brown skin while he gyrated into you making your toes curl in the air, "Talk to me, tell me how good it feels.." Orlando lulled to you, you gasped at the sensation of his tongue swiveling around your erect nipple while his other hand gently kneaded your other breast and the wet sounds of your skin colliding filled the room.

Orlando's mouth enveloped your nipple, the warmth of his lips sending shivers down your body. You pulled him closer, your hands moving to the back of his neck. "It's so good, Don't stop," you sputtered, pulling him closer to you as you whispered, motivating him more as he quickened his pace, your wet walls clenched around him so tightly "Damn...you're taking it so good baby.." he praised lowly, his nails digging into your hips while his middle finger circled her clit. Tilting their heads together to deepen the kiss, you moaned, "Mmhm!" unable to control the pleasure that was building inside of you.

His hips lunged faster, you could feel yourself getting closer and closer to your climax, "I'm gonna cum baby..." You gasped, He didn't slow down, instead, he pushed you over the edge with a few slow, sloppy thrusts. You cried out his name while your essence gushed around his dick, your body shaking with the intensity of your orgasm.

Orlando pulled out of you, "fuckk.." Orlando gripped the covers and laid them on their naked bodies while pulling you into his arms and he nuzzled his face into your neck, peppering kisses along your brown skin. "You're so beautiful," He hummed, his voice husky. You smiled, feeling completely content in his arms before kissing your lips tenderly again.

———————

#black!reader #black fanfiction #all american homecoming #lando johnson #orlando johnson #lando x reader

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kandyshoppe · 6 months ago

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Just some baby ideas that I (hopefully) will (eventually) draw!

Riddle as a little baby and kid was in and out of the hospital. I feel he was a premie baby, and really struggled for a few years. He’s obviously better now, but a lot of his younger years were spent in hospitals and sickly.

Trey working the counter, and younger Crewel buying something, and just fawning over the cute baby! And Trey being like “can I takes you order!” And “fank you!” As he waves at Crewel with his arms FULL of baked goods! He bought them out, just so he could stay with the baby longer!

Cater playing with a camera, I bet he LOVED being his sisters camera man much more than their dress up doll. He liked pictures cause he can go through them and remember stuff!

Deuce just being a mama’s boy. Helping carry anything and everything, though the grocery bag drags on the ground, trying to cook and burning the eggs, picking flowers for her.

Ace just following his brother like a duckling, copying whatever his big brother does! (Silver doing this with Lilia too!)

Leona also having a nice relationship with his brother, but his brother is probably a little overbearing as many kids can be. Leona is such a cat he needs his space sometimes, but Falena just loves his baby bro so much!

Ruggie helping granny with laundry, and cleaning. Also crying cause he ate all the food, and it’s gone, he knows he ate it, but he wanted more! Oh! Ruggie was probably a messy eater, sprinkles and frosting everywhere!

Jack doggy paddling, Jack chasing his tail, Jack playing with squeaky toys, just Jack being a little puppy!

Azul helping cook, and run the restaurant! I like the idea that he would make pretend food and feed the customers the “special” he cooked up! Showing people to their tables, and helping taste test food! As well as his first Father’s Day present for his step dad!

Jade And Floyd just being brothers, fighting, stealing, arguing, but also just having so much fun together. Being silly and having fun.

Kalim chewing shiny jewelry, and just being a silly baby. I also like the idea he would run through the fountain with his nice party clothes, right before the party!

Jamil probably adored having his hair done by his mama, and would try to do his sisters hair, but as a baby she had short hair and he couldn’t do much. Put bows all over her! I also be as a little little kid he was allowed to shine, and liked showing off to his sister.

Vil just being a cutie! He’s adorable no matter what he does! He probably wasn’t a big model as a kid, and his dad tried to protect him, but man! Holidays are fun, and he does share his holiday pictures with Vil. Not to mention Vil’s Halloween MEGA photo shoot, cause his dad is a Halloween lover!

Rook being in his outdoorsy family, learning to fish, and track, helping garden. I have a headcannon that as a toddler, and he was mad, he would go eat the mint plant (his mother’s favorite) as like a gotcha! He always felt bad and would help heal it, but three year olds don’t think far ahead.

Epel helping Granny in the kitchen, covered in flour, carefully carrying the eggs! I also bet he was a big helper with picking the apples! On his dad’s shoulders, reaching as high as he can for the shiniest apples!

Idia and Ortho! Idia holding baby Ortho, showing baby Ortho his favorite games, and his toys! Crying when Ortho drooled on his favorite stuffies, and his mama comforting while she dries the toys.

Malleus learning how to shift to his human body, and him having hiccups that make him blow small fires!

Silver and Lilia! Omg! So many ideas! I love the idea of Lilia struggling with baby Silver, as a new parent, exhausted from baby cries, panicking over every little thing, ect! Lilia also crying and having to be comforted by Silver on Silver’s first day of school.

Sebek with his little crocodile tail, and teething! I bet his home has a lot of teething damages on chairs and table legs. Bet he had a favorite blankie too! Oh! And him and Silver being friends!

#twisted wonderland #my writing #baby au #baby

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spicyllewyn · 1 year ago

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When you walk away.

Moon system x F ! Reader.

"When you walk away, Cut me open, take my heart So we'll never be apart Don't you let it go to waste."

Tags & warnings. NSFW, NON-CONSENSUAL. (+18)

Word count. 2.5k

Summary. You, literally, physically, cannot break with your boyfriends. (Inspired by the reddit story.)

The 4 of you were in tune, just as you had been throughout your entire relationship. Steven, Marc, and Jake were aware that this would happen at some point or another, much to their liking sooner rather than later, but sometimes there's not much you can do. Sometimes, being the keyword.

As time passed, your patience dwindled little by little. Cleaning Jake's wounds, comforting Steven's nightmares, and picking up the broken pieces of Marc's fits of anger became 'too much' when you realized that you were the one living with pain silently most of the time.

It wasn't their fault, you were aware of that, you couldn't deny that they loved you, and you didn't have the strength to lie to yourself about it, but you also knew that there was no way they would rid themselves of the title of vigilante. Khonshu didn't let them go, but they didn't fight as much as you would like either.

The sound of the door pulled you out of your thoughts, and one last time Marc's exhausted expression caused a stir in your heart. You gave him a small smile, and he, seeing that strange expression, knew that the day had come.

"What are you doing awake?" He closed the door behind him.

"I was waiting for you." When your body shifted to one side of the couch, there was space for him beside you. Marc understood, the couch creaked under his weight, he was right at the corner of it, raising his arm to the backrest to be able to touch your shoulder with his fingers in a loving gesture. "We need to talk."

He nodded silently, his breath hitched but he managed to disguise it for you.

"I can't do this anymore, Marc." Your voice broke when you said his name, and he gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze as if trying to convey the strength you needed to continue. "I love you but I think this isn't the best for either of us."

He nodded again, biting the inside of his cheek.

"I understand." He didn't make a scene, he didn't raise his voice, and he didn't plead, and even though the tears trapped in his eyes portrayed the real pain he felt, you knew he loved you too much to make this harder for you.

Marc would never turn the knife that he had already stabbed you with when he agreed to be in a relationship with you. He pulled your wrist and with a push, he brought you against his chest where you cried for a good 10 minutes until his voice caught your attention.

"I'm going to leave, okay?"

"You don't have to do it, not now." You checked the time on his watch; he still had an arm around you. "It's late."

"I need to be alone." His lips occasionally brushed against your hair, small kisses that carried the scent of your shampoo. "Please."

This time it was your turn to nod silently.

Your bodies broke the hug, and both of you felt the cold of the night hit you like a truck. You watched with crossed arms as he removed Steven and Jake's posters from the walls; he never liked putting up decorations of that kind.

He packed up what he could in some boxes, books, clothes, even a picture frame with a photo of both of you, he loaded everything into Jake's car.

He took your cheeks one last time, and you enjoyed the taste of mint in his mouth, those chewing gums he used to try to relax his anxiety, those that never worked. When Marc left, you sent a couple of messages to acquaintances to break the news because you had been together for so long that your partner could already be considered part of your family and your group of friends; you received some immediate responses.

Mostly words of encouragement, regretting that things hadn't worked out.

You went to sleep in a cold, lonely bed, but with a strange sensation, as if a weight had been lifted off your shoulders. You had the chance to start over, to live a life with fewer worries.

Things could get better.

Steven's late-night podcast woke you up around 10 in the morning on Saturday, accompanied by a delicious scent of waffles; you knew it was him because the coconut aroma always prevailed in his vegan breakfasts.

Without opening your eyes, you complained to yourself. Were they trying to change your mind now? You were ready to argue.

The feeling of discomfort caught your breath in your lungs when you opened your eyes and saw the posters back on the wall. Looking down was also a surprise; you were wearing one of Steven's shirts, your favorite for sleeping.

You could swear Marc had taken it the day before along with many of his things.

"Love?" Steven's smile slowly faded when you appeared in the kitchen, an uncomfortable expression on your face. "Is something wrong? Are you okay?" He stopped what he was doing to walk up to you, his delicate touch landing on your cheeks just as Marc had done the night before, squeezing them to get your attention.

"I think... mhm." You let him interrupt you with a kiss. "I had a bad dream." Or at least, that's what you were trying to convince yourself. There was no other explanation for this happening.

"Sorry for leaving you alone in bed, I was starving." He looked genuinely concerned as his forehead rested against yours. "I made waffles for you; I know they're your favorites."

You spent the morning with him, and Steven being as affectionate as always didn't surprise you; that simply was Steven's personality. As the day went on, you understood that you had only experienced an extremely lucid dream, so you would have to go through this again somehow.

While your boyfriend rested his head on your lap, you stretched just a bit to grab your phone, which lit up with a message arrival, and you took the opportunity to check one last time that you weren't going crazy. You scrolled through all the messages, and there was none talking about breakups or anything close; in fact, your last message had been sent to their shared phone, you saying you missed them without receiving a response.

Your other hand, almost by inertia, played with Steven's curls as you searched for any sign that told you that the previous night had indeed happened.

Nothing.

"Are you okay?" He mumbled sleepily; apparently, your fingers had tensed in his hair.

"Mhm." You swallowed hard. You couldn't do this again; it felt like a cruel joke of life. "Can we talk? Please?"

Very much against his will, he straightened his back and faced you. Those beautiful brown eyes with dark circles underneath looked at you with as much admiration as they always had, his fingers intertwined with yours, and his thumbs stroked your hands.

"What's wrong, love?"

"We can't be together anymore." It was better if you did it bluntly, as if ripping off a band-aid all at once rather than doing it slowly.

His expression gradually fell, tears filled his eyes, his brow furrowed, and a small pout appeared on his lips. His fingers slowly tightened around yours.

Your hands hurt from the way he clung to you.

"Steven, you're hurting me." You sobbed too when you saw him cry openly. When you stood up, he fell to his knees in front of you without letting go. If only your dream had been real; going through this was hurting your heart twice as much as you had ever imagined.

Another reminder that Marc and Steven were not the same person.

"Sorry, I-I'm sorry." He stuttered as you helped him to his feet. He released your hands to hug you against his chest, almost cutting off your breath with the suddenness of his movements. "I'm sorry, love."

Sorry for what? He hadn't done anything wrong in the relationship; not all breakups arose from mistakes on either side, sometimes things just didn't work out, and that was it.

He, internally, knew very well why he was apologizing to you.

"I need to be alone, Steven." You whispered when you felt him hiccup against you in pain; his shirt you were wearing felt damp by now at shoulder level.

You gently pushed him back by the chest, and he took a step back, still trembling.

"I... Y-yeah, of course, I... understand." He forced himself to take a step back.

"Jake's car keys are where they always are." With heaviness, you had to turn your back on him, or you knew he would never leave. You could feel his brown orbs glued to you for just a few seconds before the slam of the door made you startle.

You ran your hands over your face in desperation. Facing it a second time had been worse, but things were done, fortunately, and you could talk about it better later, or at least that's what you hoped, when he felt calmer.

You sent messages giving the news, unlike your dream, this time it was a way to beg that no one asked about Jake, Marc, or Steven. You didn't have the strength.

A pair of arms tightened around you strongly causing you to groan in the middle of your sleep. You snapped your eyes open, feeling suffocated by the pressure.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” You slurred as you struggled to get out of his grip.

“What's wrong, princesa?” He growled lowly as he pulled you tighter against him. He raised his head a little so he could look at you. He had barely one eye open, and thus he managed to look confused.

“Let go of me, Jake!” You were noticeably upset, his arms seemed to enclose you with increasing force as if he didn't notice that you were on the verge of a panic attack. The previous few hours hadn't been a dream, you were sure.

Your back hit his chest and you felt his breath on your neck.

“Wasn't one round enough for you?" His hips collided with yours to give emphasis to his words. “Do you want me to get you tired, amor?” One of his arms continued to take your breath away while his right hand moved down your body, stopping at one of your tits, squeezing it with his fingers almost in a playful way before continuing to crawl downwards, heading between your legs.

“Let go of me, I don't even know what the fuck you're doing here.”

Your voice cracked, breaking his heart.

But not as much as it would break him to let you go.

“I live here, tontita.” His fingers were rubbing against your pussy lips slowly. Up and down, forcing you to open your legs a little more.

“Jake, please.” Your eyes were filled with tears. This was a horrible nightmare.

“Shh, be a good girl for me, okay? I had a long day.”

You didn't even put in any strength. You didn't have it anymore. As his fingers played with you, his hips pushed against your ass, over and over, rubbing his boner against you.

He was going to admit it, even he couldn't imagine being attracted to the idea of something like this. But after your attempts to escape, this felt like a way to reaffirm that you belonged to him.

“Look how wet you are, did you miss me?” When he got tired of his fingers doing the work he forced them into your mouth, making you taste yourself.

Steven's shirt that you again didn't remember wearing made his job easier, only pushing aside your panties to insert his cock deep inside your being in a single thrust. And you no longer knew if you were sobbing from pleasure or fear.

You didn't remember him being so rough to you before. With one push he flipped you onto your stomach with him crushing your entire body, where he could thrust more comfortably with a handful of your hair tangled in his fingers.

You heard the bed creak, his gasps, and you felt your face wet from your saliva and tears filling your pillow.

“Fuck, that's just w-what I needed.” He was using you. You could recognize it, sex between you always meant pleasure for both of you, now he seemed to be using you as a thing where to leave his cum.

Between tears and kicking, deep down, you knew you were liking it.

He didn't last long, not right when he discovered how much he liked taking you this way. You slept with him next to you, with his sperm running down your legs and wishing this too had just been a dream.

You didn't search for them around the apartment the following morning; as soon as you got up, you ran straight to grab a suitcase, if you didn't escape your own damn mind was going to drive you crazy.

Three days had been enough to make it difficult for you to differentiate between reality and your lucid dreams or whatever it was you were experiencing. You bumped into Marc as you exited the room.

"Woah, what's going on?"

You didn't even respond to him; you couldn't even look him in the face after what they had done to you.

"Move!" You pushed him as hard as you could, grabbing your phone, which for the third time had not a single message about the breakup.

"Sweetheart?"

"How the hell dare you ask me what's wrong!?" You were shattered, your mind, your body, you. "Last night, Jake... "

"Huh?" He interrupted you with a furrowed brow. "We just got here, sweetheart."

No, no, no, no, he was lying to you.

He had to be lying to you. You wanted to wipe that confused expression off his face with punches and tear off the hand he was using to point at Jake's car keys in their place.

You put them there; he just threw them wherever when he arrived.

And truth be told, when you looked down between your legs, you were almost too clean.

You were going crazy.

"Fuck off, Marc." Erratically, you ripped the charger off your phone from the wall and almost ran to the front door as if he were chasing you. Which clearly he wasn't. In fact, he wasn't doing anything except looking confused. "You and Steven and Jake, leave me alone."

The slam of the door made you feel free, as did the car horns and sounds of street vendors.

That night, you searched for the farthest motel you could find; you kept your phone off after sending messages to acquaintances assuring them you were okay but didn't feel comfortable sharing your location with them at the moment.

Ah, and at least you had a good night's sleep, after a long time.

“Pancakes or waffles?”

Steven's voice made you snap your eyes open. Your head was on his arm, and you felt the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed against your back.

Tears filled your eyes when you recognized the place around you.

Your home.

When your sobs reached your boyfriend's ears, you immediately felt him place a kiss on your shoulder.

"What's wrong, honey? Did you have a bad dream?"

#jake lockley x you #jake lockley x y/n #jake lockley x reader #moon knight fanfiction #moon knight x y/n #moon knight fanfic #moon knight x reader #moon knight x you #moon knight smut #marc spector x you #marc spector x y/n #marc spector x reader #steven grant x y/n #steven grant x you #steven grant fanfiction #steven grant x reader

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blueiscoool · 11 months ago

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Three Roman Graves Uncovered in Portugal

Three burials dating to the 5th or 6th century AD have been unearthed in the ancient Roman city of Ossónoba in Faro, southern Portugal.

The Ossónoba’s first archaeological evidence dates back to the 4th century B.C., when the Phoenicians settled in the Western Mediterranean. The city was then called Ossónoba From the 2nd century B.C. until the 8th A.D. the city was under Roman and Visigoth dominance being afterwards conquered by the Muslims in 713.

A team of archaeologists from ERA Arqueologia discovered ancient Roman structures and the remains of a man, woman, and child while conducting excavations over a 5,000 square meter area that will eventually house a real estate development.

The excavations, which took place before a construction project, revealed the grave of a man whose skeleton was complete and who would have been between 39 and 45 years old, as well as a young woman under the age of 25, and a baby who would have been no more than six months old, according to archaeologist Francisco Correa.

Francisco Correia, the project’s head archaeologist, said in a statement that the discoveries were made in an old truck repair workshop and are believed to date from the 5th or 6th century.

The tombs appear to have been looted in the past to steal “small bracelets, necklaces, and rings,” according to anthropologist Cláudia Maio. The tombs indicate that the people may have had “some economic status” as they were not simply placed in open graves but instead buried in carefully built graves.

The proximity of the three people’s graves seems to indicate that they were family members, though the team cannot be certain of that. “But we cannot say anything for sure,” the anthropologist said.

To learn more, the researchers hope to be able to provide more precise answers through DNA tests and isotopic analysis techniques used to determine population movements and dietary habits from chemical traces in ancient human remains.

This latest archaeological discovery did not come as a surprise to archaeologists, who had already led similar works which resulted in the discovery of a Roman game artifact believed to date back to the first century AD in 2020.

“We know that we are in an area with archaeological potential where there is a 17th-century convent (of Santo António dos Capuchos) to the west, and to the east lies the area where the mosaic of the Ocean God (Deus Oceano), now a national treasure, was found,” he said.

What did come as a surprise to archaeologists was the location of the tombs.

“Based on previous studies, this would have been an area that was possibly residential or more linked to industrial activities. There are many traces of salterns. Largo da Madalena would have been the entrance to the urban area of the city of Ossónoba. The identified graves are in the Figuras area, near Teatro Lethes, close to the Ermida de São Sebastião and the Pavilion of Escola D. Afonso III. This area is almost within the urban fabric,” the archaeologist explained, adding that this illustrates both the “growth and decline of Ossónoba.”

The graves of the man and the woman “were sealed with limestone slabs,” believed to be reused parts from “some of the most emblematic buildings that would have been here in the area,” he believes.

According to the project manager of ERA Arqueologia, who was co-responsible for the work, in addition to the graves, hundreds of small pieces were also discovered which suggest that there may also have been a mosaic there.

The researchers also recovered Roman artifacts in the area, including ceramics, bone dice, nails, pins, a spoon, possible evidence of a dye factory, and coins minted during the reign of Constantine the Great, between A.D. 306 and 337.

Cover Photo: Roman mosaic of the god Oceanus, part of the ancient city of Ossónoba, the modern town of Faro, in Portugal.

By Leman Altuntaş.

#Three Roman Graves Uncovered in Portugal #Roman city of Ossónoba in Faro #ancient grave #ancient tomb #ancient artifacts #archeology #archeolgst #history #history news #ancient history #ancient culture #ancient civilizations #roman history #roman empire #roman art

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demonic0angel · 1 month ago

Note

Are there any Ghost Games scenes that you have that won't fit into the stories plot?

(Omg I have so many 😭 Note: Sparrow is Danny, Nightingale is Jazz, and Robin is Jason)

“Why am I Mayo?!” That was when Sparrow caught a glimpse of his white hair on a reflective nearby surface. “Oh.”

————

"Okay," Robin said. "Let's say, for example, a family of four live under one roof. There is a mom, a dad, a 3 year old toddler, and a paternal grandmother. The mom is a dentist and the dad really respects his mother and likes fruity flavors. In the home is a bowl of candies, with both hard candies and gummies flavored mint, pineapple, strawberry, lemon salt, and blue raspberry. Each candy type is equally divided. In total, there are total of 200 candies. However, after a whole week of eating them, the pineapple candies have been reduced to 10, the mint to 13, the strawberry to 12, the lemon salt to 19, and the raspberry to 15. The amount is the same for the gummies. Now using a guesstimated answer, what is the grandmother’s favorite flavor?"

"What?!" Sparrow said, gobsmacked. "What the he—" he looked at Nightingale and finished lamely, "heck."

Robin smiled. "Make an educated guess."

"How are we supposed to know which candies are her favorite if there are three other people in the house?" Sparrow complained.

Nightingale hesitated. "Is it... lemon salt?"

"Gummies or hard candy?" Robin ignored Sparrow.

".... uh. Hard candy?" She hesitated.

Robin smiled at her indulgently. "Why do you think so?"

Sparrow was silent, not having the memory or the capacity to think.

"Uh, because there were a lot of them, right?"

Robin shook his head. "Wrong." Then he smiled and didn't say anything.

Both Nightingale and Sparrow looked at each other despondently. Robin watched them struggle silently to themselves for a moment before he said, "It's the mint hard candy."

Both Nightingale and Sparrow stared at him, dumbfounded.

Robin grinned before he explained, "Knowing that there is a family of four, you can cross out several people. The three year old baby probably cannot consume candy at all. The mom, who is a dentist, would probably not eat much candy either. So that leaves the dad and the grandmother. The dad likes fruity flavors, so that eliminates strawberry, blue raspberry, and pineapple. That leaves mint and lemon salt. But if he respects his mother, that means that he'll leave those alone. Old people cant taste salt well as they age, so we can conclude that the grandmother likes the mint candy the most.”

Both Nightingale and Sparrow stared at him. Then they shouted, “Like hell it is!!”

————

“I think people with names starting with letters after P don’t deserve human rights.” Nightingale said, like an insane person. “It doesn’t even sound right in the alphabet. A, B, C, D, E, F, G, H, I, J, K, LMNOP. Q… y’know?”

Robin nodded, even though he didn’t understand what she was talking about at all. “I guess.”

He took a sip of his hot chocolate.

Then he choked on his drink. “Wait a minute! Sparrow and I have names that start with letters after P!”

Nightingale burst into giggles immediately.

————

“Are you serious right now? In front of my pasta?”

“Don’t you mean, right meow?”

“Swallow a fork.”

————

"That's right. We shouldn't dawdle,” Sparrow said.

"Dawdle?" Robin repeated with an amused raise of his eyebrows. "You sure put that dictionary to work."

"Gratitudes and much appreciations."

————

They all looked at the photo. Then Nightingale randomly zoomed in on Sparrow's face, who had a simple and cute smile.

Robin burst into laughter, while Sparrow's jaw dropped.

"What? What?? What is it??!" Sparrow asked in growing embarrassment while Robin tried to stifle his snickers and Nightingale nonchalantly zoomed out again, acting as though she had seemingly done nothing while she tried to suppress a wide smile.

"Nothing," she said, amusement in her eyes.

————

However, Sparrow didn’t flush.

Robin immediately stopped him by blocking the door and pointing to the toilet. “What are you doing?! Flush!”

He immediately defended himself. “I was trying to save water because I thought you were going to use it too!”

Robin was dumbfounded.

“WHAT?!”

————

“Uh huh,” Robin snorted. “Okay, forehead.” He took a hand and pushed up Sparrow’s hair, showing off his smooth forehead.

Sparrow gasped, flabbergasted, before he snapped, “Says you! With your fivehead looking self!” He made a move to push up Robin’s bangs too, but he dodged. Sparrow glared at them and they both pounced on one another, snapping and name calling.

Nightingale subtly pushed down her own bangs and moved away from the wrestling duo.

————

“Shut up before I shove laxatives down your throat and glue your buttcheeks together.” Robin’s eyes were like lasers.

Sparrow immediately took a step back and shrank his head into his neck. “Yes sir.”

Nightingale’s jaw dropped, speechless. However, she also took a step back and didn’t say another word.

#dpxdc #dcxdp #dp x dc #dc x dp #danny phantom x dc #dp x dc crossover #ask #jazz fenton #anon ask #danny fenton #jason todd #ghost game au #ty for the ask :3 #I love it when all three of them are weird asf

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abbysimsfun · 16 days ago

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Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 143 (The Wedding Reception)

After the newlyweds and their guests posed for photos, they had just enough remaining light to mingle before the caterers - Suri and her grandmother, Clara Bjergsen - put out the food. With permission, Ash raced into the spiral maze to take a selfie with Sophie the Snail, searching for treasures in the ferns beneath the carved stone slug.

What he found looked confusing - like a mint green box with a circle of numbers wearing earmuffs, and Ash raced back to ask his family what it was. "I think it could be a telephone," Heather guessed. "They used to be plugged into walls."

Felix smiled. "I haven't seen one of those for at least sixty years! It's a rotary dial phone. You dial the number by spinning the wheel. But people used to think this took too much time, so they invented phones with buttons and speed dials, and these fell out of use."

Ash was enthralled by what Felix knew of history. "Will it still work?"

"I don't think so. Most landlines have been discontinued because everyone uses mobile phones these days."

Ash glanced eagerly at Heather and Conrad. "Can I still keep it? It looks so cool!"

Heather smiled. "Of course you can. That's how Sophie the Snail works. Leave something for someone else to find, and whatever you find yourself is yours to keep!"

Curious Conrad looked at the old fashioned phone. "I wonder who left it there."

"Do you think it was the time traveler Emit Relevart is looking for?"

Heather shrugged. "I looked him up online after we saw the report on Simlandia National, but I didn't find out anything they weren't already reporting on the news. He loves science and technology, believes in time travel, and has blue hair."

Felix and Lilith perked up as Lavender called her mother's attention. "You saw the news report, too? I've been trying to convince Felix to take a detour to Willow Creek on our way back to Britechester to see if we can find him."

The former ghost smiled at his beloved. "After everything with Ash in Sulani, you still want to jump through time? I've told you the past wasn't nearly as wonderful as the present."

"Right, but you said it wasn't as wonderful because I wasn't there. My podcast would blow up if I could talk about what it's like to time travel! But more than the podcast, I want to see things you've seen, with you, and I bet a time traveler could help us!"

Though less enthusiastic, Felix took seriously his responsibility to make Lilith happy. Love like this was exactly what he'd stuck around for, waiting for his chance to live again. "It would be a dream to walk miles of old streets with you, Lil. We'll go to Willow Creek, find this 'Emit,' and we'll see what he knows about the future."

To make it to Willow Creek and home to Britechester before too late, Felix and Lilith left soon after food was served. Kris also returned early to San Myshuno with Betta when the four-year-old grew tired and cranky, but there were still plenty of loved ones left to enjoy the buffet-style spread, including fruit-decorated cupcakes instead of a cake, just like Lavender had requested.

They were grateful to Suri and her grandmother for providing such wonderful food. Conrad even gave Suri a huge amount of money autonomously (all of it wtf?! At least we have a money tree), calling it an investment into her takeover of the Salty Paw, and her hope to turn it from a dive bar to a slightly more upscale licensed cafe.

"I can't believe you and Heather would do that for me," said Suri with a smile and warm embrace for the groom. "My catering rates are a lot lower than this!"

"You're a great chef and we believe in your ideas. Hazel loves you, and Heather and I believe in your plans for the Salty Paw. Just try not to lose that smell about the place. We'll miss it if you really clean it up."

Suri laughed. "You're in luck. I don't think that smell would disappear even if I tore down every single wall and built from the ground up."

Heather spent extra time catching up with her sister Holly, who she hadn't spent meaningful time with since the winter holidays. "Life is busy in the city with Kris and two busy girls, but that's nothing compared to what you've been through lately."

"I really think Ash has been okay since it happened, but we're going to take him to a counselor, regardless. He has a lot of questions about everything, but he really seems like himself."

"But how are you doing? Your son was kidnapped!"

"Honestly? As long as I remind myself he's okay, I don't beat myself up with guilt. But sometimes I watch him sleep just to make sure he's still there. Conrad wants to put a sofa in his bedroom so I get enough rest for the baby."

"And his ex is definitely going to prison?"

Heather nodded. "She's not getting a jury trial and Rafa gave up details on several unsolved cases, plus the whereabouts of some weapons stockpiles around the city, so Felix is fairly confident he'll get his sentence down to a year, at most, because he was a minor for most of the stuff he's wanted for."

"He killed all those men; aren't you worried he's dangerous?"

Heather shook her head. "I used to be, but I met him. And after everything he's done, I'd trust him with my own life. We would have wanted him here for the wedding if he wasn't in custody."

As the night wore on, guests ate and chatted while Lavender occupied her doting grandparents' attention, and Heather finally found a moment to chat with Mortimer about her recent trip to Selvadorada. She'd been meaning to ask him about the medallion she and Spencer had seen at the museum, inscribed with a message from Malcolm A. Landgraab to Lady Victorine Goth, but she'd been so busy since her return.

"Lady Ravendancer was my great-great-grandmother," admitted Mortimer, his brow creased in thought. "Family rumours of her infidelity to my great-great-grandfather, Lord Samuel Goth, have carried for over a century, but the medallion would be the first piece of evidence to support it."

The writer smiled to himself as he considered the historical discoveries he might find - a dramatic story of betrayal and spellcaster magic, if they were lucky. "If my great-great-grandmother had an affair with a Landgraab, it could explain how the families became such fierce rivals in business. The Landgraabs wanted to settle the west, but the Goths wouldn't let them do it alone."

"Do you think it has anything to do with the old pirate's curse you told me about?"

Mortimer shot her a look of sympathy. "It might. I should make a trip out to visit the family archives in Willow Creek; it might give more insight into this medallion in the jungle."

She thanked him as the moon came out above the trees. Lavender curled into a ball to nap on the benches near her sleepy Aunt Hazel and Uncle River - it had been a long day and was now well past her bedtime - and the guests slowly began to wish the newlyweds well and head home. Ash made his way to the treehouse to play, changing into warmer attire as a sign the wedding festivities were drawing to a close.

Heather and Conrad had no time for a honeymoon and returned to their busy lives in Brindleton Bay, but they would cherish the memories made today for the rest of their lives. ->

<- Previous Part (Wedding Album) | Gen 2 Start | Gen 2.1 Summary

Gen 1 Start | Gen 1 Summary

NOTE: And that's it! Conther is married!! I realize this reception was a lot of just letting sims do autonomous things and didn't have any photogenic traditions like first dances and cake-cutting, but letting sims be sims gives surprising plot sometimes! It led to Conrad and Heather giving money to Suri "to invest in her upscale cafe," which I didn't plan for but it's indicative of how supportive this legacy family is, and they've accepted Suri despite the scandalous start to her relationship with Hazel, so I liked it! (After getting over the initial shock of having zero simoleons out of nowhere! This autonomous interaction is always such a jump scare, like 'where is all my money?!' 😂)

I also got to send Ash for a selfie with Sophie, to mirror the one his mother took at the statue in childhood because someone (I think @pixeldistractions? I'm sorry if I'm misremembering!) suggested making it tradition, while also tying it in to the Blast From the Past event. No he didn't really find the phone under there as part of the quests but since it's a common hiding place for some exciting things, I had to pretend he did. He really found some snowdrops, which is cool because winter just ended for the next 16 years! Nonetheless, he'll hold on to them, because my sims hoard things in their inventories like mad, just in case I can use them later.

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hyuuukais · 11 months ago

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-`♡´ - APARTMENT 143

pairing -> lee minho x fem reader

synopsis -> after a bad breakup, y/n needs to find a new place to live. although she's grateful for her best friend, up-and-coming model hwang hyunjin, for letting her stay at his, she can't keep living with him and his model roommates. so when an opening for somewhere nearby with cheap rent opens up, she jumps on it, despite knowing next to nothing about the 3 other tenants, only that one owns 3 cats. the three quickly learn of her breakup, determined to help get her back on her feet. but what happens when one of them begins to develop feelings?

warnings -> gen, food mention, guns, somewhat vague description of a robbery, blood

MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS | NEXT

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO -> BEFORE (partially written, wc: 1.0k)

"Welcome to my childhood house," you say, opening the creaky door, Minho following you through. "It's not that impressive."

With an awkward laugh, you sling your bag over a chair in the dining room to the left, kicking your shoes off in the process. There isn't much to say about where you grew up, the modest little house speaking for itself. Family photos littered the fireplace mantle in the living room, but aside from that, there wasn't much personality in shared areas. No one was home much now since you and your sister had moved out and your mother works long hours.

"Can I see your room?"

You swing around to see Minho leaning against the doorway with his head titled toward you. The action sends a small shiver down your back.

"No!" You blurt, and his eyes widen. "A girl's room is very personal."

He stares at you for a few moments before breaking into laughter. "Did you just quote 10 Things I Hate About You to me?"

"...I might have," you giggle, surprised he got your reference.

"You're wondering how I knew that, aren't you?" The way your eyebrows raise says it all. "How many times did you watch that movie again...?"

"It's amazing," you roll your eyes, a small smile forming on your lips. "You never stuck around to watch the whole thing, so I didn't think you'd know, okay?"

"What do you mean?" Minho seems genuinely confused, standing straight. "I did- ah, right, you fell asleep that time. You snore, by the way."

This makes you blush. "Everyone does."

"I'm messing with you," he sighs.

Rolling your eyes again, you walk past him and move down the hallway toward your childhood bedroom. When you open the door, you're greeted by the soft mint walls and fuzzy white rug surrounding your bed. You sit on the bed, plush blankets shifting. Minho slowly enters, walking around slowly, and suddenly you feel exposed. All of your silly phases and old hobbies out for him to see, past art awards displayed on your desk in the corner and a pile of dirty laundry in another. He stops on the other side of your bed, fingers finding the frame of your family photo, still lying face down on your nightstand, and your heart hurts.

"Don't," you whisper, not ready to see it again. Immediately, Minho pulls his hand away and looks over to where you're now sitting against the headboard, legs tucked into your body.

"What is it?" Minho nods to the frame. When you don't answer, he climbs onto your bed and pokes your side, making you jolt. "Earth to Y/n. What's the photo?"

"Just a family one," you shrug, and he's still trying to catch your eyes. "Before."

"Before what?" He questions, and you finally lock eyes with him.

"...before I got him killed?"

His eyebrows furrow at this, clearly confused. You don't object this time when he reaches over and flips the frame up. Everyone is smiling and happy, two little girls standing with their parents at some kind of theme park. You couldn't have been more than twelve when it was taken, one of the last family vacations you took.

"What happened?" Minho asks, voice low, turning his whole body to face you with the photo still in his lap.

"It was my birthday," you start slow, willing yourself not to cry. "I had just turned fifteen and I didn't get this one album I really wanted. My dad could tell I was upset and said it wasn't in stock when he went to order it, but that he could go now and check if the store had it. We could make a day out of it, and we did.

"The mall wasn't super busy that day, so we got food first. In the actual store, he asked me to go browse as he found the album and paid since he wanted the illusion of surprise still." You sniff, taking the photo in your hands. "So I left to wait outside instead. This guy bumped into me on the way out and I made some stupid comment about watching where he was going," your voice wavers. "When I turned around, I saw he had a gun. Next thing I knew, I was watching him threaten the cashier and my dad."

You pause, taking a deep breath. Minho hasn't said anything, patiently waiting for you to either finish the story or announce you were done, you didn't want to say more. But you did. This is the first time you've opened up to someone about this, not including Hyunjin or NingNing.

"I panicked and ran to my dad, but that must have freaked the guy out because he tried to attack me, but my dad jumped out in front of me and got hit instead." You look up at Minho with damp eyes, voice barely above a whisper. "I still remember the feeling of his blood seeping into my clothes. I still remember screaming, begging him to move. He bled out a lot by the time the ambulance got there."

"Thank you for telling me," Minho says when you're quiet again.

"If I hadn't..." you shake your head. "If I hadn't wanted that stupid album, he'd still be here."

"Don't do that," Minho grabs your face gently by your chin, forcing you to look at him again. "Don't blame yourself for something you couldn't have possibly predicted would happen. Y/n, that's not your fault. This is what you've been blaming yourself for?"

You nod. "If I wasn't being so stupid-"

"You were fifteen, Y/n."

And you can't hold it in anymore, sobbing and hiccupping into his shirt for the second time that evening. You stay like this for a while, and you don't know when you shifted into a lying down position, wrapping an arm across his stomach with a leg wrapped around one of his. His hand is in your hair, the other tracing lines up and down your exposed arm. Falling asleep is easy and unexpected, and when you wake up, he's been replaced with a large, purple cow plushie that was previously sitting in the corner of your room. There's a text from him on your phone waiting for you when you're about to ask where he is.

notes -> sooo....... y/n is starting to open up more to minho ! 😁 also, i will be closing the taglist at ch 25!

taglist -> @chaeryred @toplinelix @channie-143 @staysinbloom @puppyminnnie @tfshouldidohere @kangaracha @chlodavids @whitney190 @thisisnotjacinta @borahae-reads @brooklynie @gini143 @kayleigh-28 @skz-streamer @babyphotos0325 @scallywag1299 @venusmoonxnight @naomisosoup @fertiliezedtoesw @s00buwu @realrintaro @anothershorthuman @stayatinykatsy @ilovejeongin007 @btswestan @multifandomedsimp @ihrtlix @raehawthorne @euphoric-univers @catchingskzzzs @evermourning @satsuri3su @jazziwritesthings @minhwa @wyzminho @fic-for-readers @dreamerwasfound @imsiriuslyreal @lailac13 @palindrome969 @lixie-phoria @aalexyuuuhm @sunflowerbebe07 @st4rhwa @lukeys-giggle @jabmastersupriseee @judeduartewannabe @gaysontheprince @stepout-09-15

^^^ orange means i can't tag you

#-`♡´ - APARTMENT 143 #stray kids smau #skz smau #non idol au #stray kids #skz #lee know #lee know smau #lee minho smau #lee know x reader #lee minho x reader #lee know x fem reader #lee minho x fem reader #skz fanfic #stray kids fanfic #smau #social media au

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royalpicaro · 1 month ago

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So, to go off of the Fast Food AU, I got an idea from a comment by @livmightlive about a headcanon. What car does each Link drive and what state are they in? So, this is that post.

Photos included of each car.

|Time|

A Crisp 2014 Chevy Silverado 1500

Color: Blue Granite Metallic

- This truck is his baby

- It's been reliable for many years, and he's always fixed it himself.

- His knowledge of cars is standard Dad™ knowledge so he calls up Four when he doesn't know something

- He keeps it clean most of the time.

- He'll sometimes have trash in the passenger seat or on the floor of the passenger seat, but he'll grab it when he's getting out of the car to go into the store to throw in the outside trash cans.

- The bed of the truck has seen better days, but it's not in terrible shape.

- Some of the paint on the bed door is chipping off, but you can only see it if you get close enough.

- Loves taking it through the car wash

- He has those little dice that hang off of the rear view mirror.

- There's occasionally dirt caked on the bottom, but it doesn't stay there long

- The smell is nice because its from the Black Ice air freshener Malon buys and reminds Time to put in there.

- He likes it and has tried to buy other air fresheners but he likes the Black Ice one the best.

|Twilight|

A muddy 2019 Ram 1500

Color: White

- Loves this truck

- Jfc clean this poor thing(on the outside)

- The picture looks clean but in reality, the truck is muddy and it's because he always forgets to take it through the car wash or goddesses forbid he takes the hose to it.

- On the inside, it's a little dirty on the floorboards, but nothing too bad. A little shake should do them some good.

- He keeps it pretty free of trash because he likes to make sure it looks nice despite his baffling logic for the exterior.

- He definitely has a carabiner keychain that he clips to his pants everywhere he goes.

- It's no longer a thought, he just clicks that hoe on the second he takes them keys out.

- He's that shift lead that you can identify right as he comes through the door. *keychain clicking together* Bro has a precussion anthem each time he decides to move

- Carries gum with him wherever he goes.

- Perfers 5 gum but will get whatever he can grab

- Definitely sits in his trucks on his breaks

- He'd rather people not have feet on his dash

- Can parallel park as easily as a chicken can fly

- His car smells like a mix of mint and lawn clippings.

|Sky|

2019 Subaru Crosstrek

Color: Maroon Red

- This is the family car that he got as a hand me down

- It's reliable

- Sometimes, it makes a funny sound, but Sky likes to ignore it

- The aux cord is always Sky's

- It's a little dirty

- Some candy wrappers here and there

- The back seat has some books in a box that will move between the back seat and the truck back and forth

- It smells like bird feathers and some mysteriously vague cologne

- He loves bird imagery so its literally all over his car with ornaments, stickers, etc.

- Will sometimes bring his bird in the car with him(It's an african grey named Chloe who likes to sing September. He also hadls a cockatiel named Issac)

- The car's seats are ripped in places by his birds picking at them

- There's a mark on the driver side dash from when Legend let Sky smoke for the first time and he ended up wiping some of the ash off on the dash and now its just there

- Legend thinks it's hilarious

- Sky finds it embarrassing

- "Do NOT put your feet up on the dash!"

- Has slept in his car on break and will do it again

- Very comfy

|Wars|

A very well cared for 2016 Dodge Challenger 2D

Color: Baby Blue

- The love of his life

- He found this car in a used car lot and HAD to get it

- Wasn't cheap

- Likes to remind the others that it wasn't cheap when they make fun of him for it.

- He is BIG on decorating his car

- Not as much as Legend is, but he likes his car to feel nice

- Smells DIVINE(Like a really high end cologne, but just enough to not be too much)

- Has a work backpack that stays in the car

- Likes funny little things like the cupholder coasters

- Please be nice to the car

- He does drive like a maniac if he's given the chance to.

- Has constantly asked Wild to race him.

- Doesn't hang out in it on breaks

- Keeps it clean and tidy

- I'm talking he wipes down the car twice a week on the interior and takes it through a car wash once a week, two if needed

- is really proud of his car

- There's some chips and a small dent in the back bumper, but its barely noticable

- he might cry if you call it ugly

- Rarely eats in his car

- The main reason why he likes it so much is because of how the exterior looks. Its satisfying.

|Wild|

Venom x22GT 250cc

Color: Midnight Black

- Motorcycle homie 🤙

- Someone always asks who's motorcycle it is

- He's proud of it

- He loves how fast it goes and how free he feels

- He gets pulled over pretty often, but is usually apologetic

- Gets scared around bigger vehicles

- Hates being beside 18 wheelers

- Parks it where he can see it from the back door

- Is paranoid about it being stolen

- doesn't race people

- Has a bit of an ego about it

- Loves finding stickers he can put on it

- the little keychains that fit on the little bits and don't get in the way? OH! Loves em

- Overall, pretty chill about it but will try to impress someone and likely fail if they show interest in him or wanting a ride on it

|Legend|

1985 Coachman Camper(Modified)

Color: Beige and Brown

- Van lifer

- He loves being on the road, freely going where he wants, and doing what he wants

- He will camp out in the back area of his work since it's mostly a dirt area no one is using

- Will walk around to nearby areas if its a nice day because he loves exploring

- Finding new things is a hobby

- He will hang out at Warriors or Time's place if he really needs people around him.

- Loves to decorate seasonally

- Hoarder

- No literally, dude hoards so much shit that he has to give it to Ravio to keep at his place cause he doesn't want to get rid of it but has no place in the van

- I originally thought he'd have a concrete place, but I felt like it would be better this way because it fits his vibe.

- I imagine he was really closed off and stayed in the van for a long time after he lost Marin, but Warriors really helped him out by letting him crash at his place

- He decided he was going to go to van life as a change of pace after losing Marin and Ravio happened to show up just as he was about to end his lease.

- He lost Marin early in the year that he bought the van, hoping for a van life because they talked about how fun it could. He crashed with Warriors later that year.

- Ravio stayed in the place and signed the lease and now Legend is living his best life

- Will only ever invite people in if he trusts them

- Spotify 24/7

- Somehow, everyone is surprised when they find out.

|Hyrule|

A dying 2010 Honda Accord LX-P

Color: Auburn Brown

- Has been in the family since 2010

- Ol' Reliable

- Shudders when he starts it up

- Loves it anyway

- Comfortable asf

- Him decorating it in fairy aesthetic just makes so much sense to me

- It fits and he loves it and he's not ashamed

- He makes a lot of friends off of his decorating choices

- Has a satchel that he carries that has everything anyone could need.

- Pain meds? Got em. Allergy meds? He's a walking pharmacy.

- Want some acid?

- Experimental

- Hippie coded

- Like Legend is on one end of the hippie spectrum and Hyrule is on the complete opposite side

- Bro will sleep in his car and come back as if he had a moment with Hylia

- Scares him to hell and back when it starts making funny sounds

- Will go to Four as soon as he knows something is wrong.

- It's his baby 🥹 He likes the vibes he has with the car

- "I'll give up on her when she gives up on me."

- Ride or die fr

|Four|

2016 Volkswagen Jetta

Color: Pure White(the site said it and I have doubts)

- A gift

- The mechanic of the group

- He's fixed his car multiple times so he usually fixes the others cars or tells them whats wrong and how to fix it/where to go to get the best price

- Helps Time with stuff he doesn't know.

- He doesn't really decorate it cause he can never decide HOW to

- He keeps it clean though and likes to go to those car wash vaccum places

- Is a safe driver

- Not 100% of the time

- Does not like being in his car more than he has to.

- He'll eat in his car if he's really hungry

- Overall, not too crazy about his car to really do much to it.

- Is usually a good person to call if you need a last minute pick up

- The Sane One™

- Aux cord is an option

- He's a radio kind of guy

- Will hang out with Legend in his van if he just wants to destress

- HATES driving in the snow

- HATES other drivers

That's pretty much it :3

I TOTALLY didn't forget to put the name on each one like I did with Time's :D

BAAAAHHHHYYYYEEEEE!♡

#lu #linked universe time #linked universe wild #linked universe au #link #linked universe wind #linked universe #linked universe twilight #linked universe legend #linked universe sky #linked universe four #linked universe hyrule #linked universe warriors #linked universe headcanons

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fudgeez · 2 days ago

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Chapter 1: Enigmas and Echoes

Synopsis: New student Y/N's quiet observation is disrupted by encounters with student council president Yujin and a confrontational professor, revealing her sharp intellect and defiance. A cafeteria incident exposes her connection to popular Karina, who fiercely defends her, hinting at a hidden familial bond beneath Y/N's solitary facade.

navigation (next chapter)

Y/N, map loosely held, followed Karina through the verdant maze of WQ University's gardens. Karina, a whirlwind of campus lore, detailed the intricate social hierarchy, pointing out landmarks and student cliques with practiced ease. Y/N, a mask of polite disinterest veiling her sharp observation, snapped photos, each frame a meticulously composed piece of art.

"And there," Karina gestured towards a secluded rose garden, "usually a sanctuary, but..."

Their conversation abruptly ceased as they rounded a corner, colliding with a figure hidden behind a meticulously trimmed hedge. A lit cigarette, dropped in surprise, smoldered on the manicured lawn. It was Yujin, the student council president, her reputation for flawless composure and unwavering authority preceding her. A flicker of annoyance, quickly suppressed, crossed her features.

"President Yujin!" Karina exclaimed, her voice a mix of apology and deference. "We're so sorry, we didn't see you."

Y/N, her expression an unreadable tableau, merely observed Yujin. Yujin's gaze, however, lingered on Y/N, drawn by her enigmatic aura. A subtle tension crackled in the air. She noticed the phone in Y/N’s hand, the lens still faintly warm.

“May I see your phone?” Yujin requested, her tone a velvet-wrapped steel.

Karina glanced at her sister, a silent question in her eyes. "Why?"

"Because you took my picture, which could compromise my image," Yujin stated, her voice laced with a subtle threat. Y/N, unfazed, replied, "There's nothing on my phone," but Yujin’s outstretched hand remained implacable.

A discreet nudge from Karina prompted Y/N to sigh, a sound barely audible, and she surrendered her phone. Yujin meticulously examined its contents, finding no compromising photos. Instead, she discovered a collection of breathtakingly beautiful, artistically rendered images of various campus locales, each a testament to Y/N's exceptional talent.

A faint, almost imperceptible, flicker of interest sparked in Yujin’s eyes.

"You have a remarkable eye," Yujin commented, returning the phone. "Why don't you consider joining the photography club? You clearly possess a… gift."

Y/N simply shrugged, the gesture dismissive. "Not interested." A thread of defiance, subtle yet unmistakable, hung in the air.

Yujin's intended response was interrupted by Wonyoung's arrival, her presence radiating warmth and composure. "Here, Yujin, to neutralize the scent," Wonyoung said, offering a small, elegantly crafted container with a gentle, almost tender, smile.

Yujin accepted the container, consuming its contents, a small, mint-flavored confection.

"Thank you, Wonyoung," she replied, her voice softening slightly, a rare display of vulnerability.

Wonyoung's gaze, however, lingered on Y/N, a silent promise, a veiled curiosity, sparking in her eyes. The air around Y/N seemed to thicken, a subtle shift in the dynamics, a silent acknowledgment of the game that had just begun.

The first history class after the garden incident began. Y/N sat in the middle row, absorbed in her book. Chaewon, with naive enthusiasm, introduced herself.

“Hi, my name is Chaewon.” The class focused on Zeus's family, a tangle of divine relationships.

“Name’s Y/N Yu,” Y/N replied, returning to her book, a barrier erected.

Chaewon's smile faltered, a flicker of disappointment. “So, how old are you?” she asked, attempting to breach the wall.

“Twenty-four,” Y/N replied, her gaze fixed on the page, a fortress of indifference.

“Oh, we’re the same age!” Chaewon exclaimed, grasping for connection.

“Nice,” Y/N said, a curt, monosyllabic dismissal.

Y/N sought solace in isolation, her past a haunting specter. School was a refuge, a means to an end, a path to anonymity. The quiet hum of the classroom was a welcome shield, a stark contrast to the cacophony of her memories. She was a wraith, a shadow, and she intended to remain unseen.

Chaewon, her friendly persistence thwarted, was silenced by the professor’s arrival.

“Okay, tell me something about Zeus and Hades,” the professor announced, their voice a clarion call. The class commenced, and Y/N, though outwardly aloof, absorbed every detail, her sharp mind honed by adversity. The myths of gods and their capricious power held a disquieting resonance.

The professor initiated a relentless interrogation, calling on students randomly. "What was Zeus's relationship to Poseidon?" Silence, heavy and thick, permeated the room.

"Anyone?" The professor's voice, laced with a subtle menace, echoed. "If you cannot answer, you will stand for the remainder of the class." A nervous tremor rippled through the room, a collective breath held in apprehension.

Sunghoon tentatively raised his hand. "I think they're blood relatives, like father and son?" he offered, his voice wavering slightly.

"Are you answering or questioning me, Mr. Sunghoon?" the professor asked, their tone sharp. Sunghoon swallowed nervously, his gaze fixed on the floor. "Both, sir," he stammered.

The professor shook their head, declaring Sunghoon would remain standing. A wave of anxiety washed over the students.

The class dragged on for thirty minutes, with several students standing and others anxiously awaiting their turn. "Is Zeus a villain or a flawed hero?" the professor suddenly asked, breaking the tense silence.

The room fell silent. "Anyone?" the professor repeated, their eyes scanning the class.

No one dared to answer until the professor called on Y/N. "I heard we have a new student. Who is that?" Y/N raised her hand.

"Your name?" the professor asked, scrutinizing her.

"Yu Y/N," she replied.

"Are you related to Karina, the student council secretary?" the professor asked, piquing the curiosity of the entire class. "She's my sister," Y/N confirmed.

"Really? You don't look alike," the professor chuckled, eliciting nervous laughter from some students, though Chaewon frowned, confused by the relevance.

"Not all siblings need to resemble each other. According to science, basic genetic shuffling during reproduction, along with environmental impacts on gene activity, can cause big differences in how people look, even within the same family. Plus, what 'looking alike' means is really just a matter of opinion. Studies even show we tend to see more similarities than are actually there." Y/N’s voice remained calm, her tone factual.

The professor, caught off guard by the detailed yet simplified explanation, felt a flicker of annoyance. "Alright, alright,"

"Alright, nerd, answer my question," the professor said, a hint of irritation in their voice. "Is Zeus a villain or a flawed hero?" they asked Y/N.

"The answer is neither simple nor mutually exclusive," Y/N began, her voice steady. "Zeus exhibits traits of both. He's a complex figure, driven by ambition and desire, capable of both great benevolence and terrible cruelty. He’s a product of his time, reflecting the values and contradictions of the ancient Greek pantheon."

"That's a vague, textbook answer," the professor scoffed. "Give me a concrete stance. Is he good or bad?"

"To reduce a figure of such complexity to a binary of 'good' or 'bad' is a disservice to the nuances of mythology," Y/N replied, her tone unwavering.

"He's a flawed hero in his victories against the Titans, but a villain in his tyrannical rule and numerous betrayals. His actions must be contextualized within the social and cultural framework of ancient Greece."

"Contextualized?" the professor retorted, their face flushing. "We're not debating philosophy here. I asked a simple question, and you're giving me a lecture. Are you trying to embarrass me?"

"I am merely providing a comprehensive analysis of the subject matter, sir," Y/N said, her expression unchanged. "To assert a definitive answer would be to ignore the inherent ambiguities within the myths."

"Ambiguities? You're just being difficult!" the professor snapped. "You think you're so smart, don't you? Trying to show me up in front of the class."

"My intention is not to 'show you up,' sir, but to engage in a meaningful academic discussion," Y/N replied, her voice calm despite the rising tension.

"If you prefer a simplistic answer, Zeus could be considered a flawed hero with villainous tendencies, depending on the specific myth being examined. However, such a reduction fails to capture the intricate tapestry of his character."

The professor, visibly flustered, sputtered, "That's still not a straight answer! Just sit down, you're wasting everyone's time."

They turned away, muttering about "know-it-all students," while Y/N calmly returned to her book, the class watching with a mixture of awe and nervous anticipation.

Cafeteria

“Hey, Y/N, you were amazing! I didn't know you had the guts to answer the professor like that,” Chaewon gushed, trailing Y/N as they navigated the cafeteria line. Despite Y/N's attempts to maintain a semblance of solitude, Chaewon's persistent chatter filled the air, leaving Y/N with no choice but to endure her company.

“I simply answered the question,” Y/N replied, her tone clipped, as she paid the cashier. As they searched for an unoccupied table, a sudden impact struck Y/N’s head, sending her tray crashing to the floor, spilling biscuits and water.

“Oops, sorry, nerd!” a voice taunted, followed by a wave of derisive laughter. Y/N, unfazed, retrieved the water bottle and reached for the scattered biscuits, only for a foot to stomp on them.

“Oops, sorry again,” the same voice drawled.

“Yah, Felix!” A sharp cry echoed through the cafeteria, drawing everyone's attention. Felix, the perpetrator, offered a smug grin.

“Hi, Karina, you look beautiful,” he purred, his nostrils flaring.

A collective gasp filled the air as Karina launched a swift kick, sending Felix sprawling to his knees. She grabbed his hair, her eyes blazing.

“Try to bully my sister again, and I’ll ensure you don’t graduate, got it?” she hissed, her voice laced with a deadly promise.

Felix nodded frantically, his face contorted in fear. The students watched in stunned silence, realizing the mysterious, reserved Y/N was the sister of the popular and vivacious Karina, a stark contrast in personalities.

Karina, releasing Felix, stormed out of the cafeteria. Y/N, having located an empty table, sat down. Chaewon, still reeling from the scene, followed. “You know you didn’t have to do that,” Y/N stated calmly. Karina pouted.

“I just saved you, little sister.”

“Thanks, but I can handle myself,” Y/N replied, her tone dismissive. Karina shook her head, disbelieving, until her eyes landed on Chaewon. “Hi! What’s your name?”

“Chaewon Kim, Y/N’s new best friend!” Chaewon chirped enthusiastically.

“She’s lying,” Y/N interjected, picking at a shard of biscuit. Karina confiscated the broken biscuit and replaced it with a lunchbox. “Eat this, it’s your favorite dish. I made it,” she said proudly.

“That’s even more reason not to eat it,” Y/N retorted, attempting to reclaim her biscuit.

“I asked Mom to help! Please, accept my effort,” Karina pleaded, her eyes wide and imploring, which prompted Y/N to utter a rare curse.

“Stop with the puppy eyes, damn it! Give me the spoon,” Y/N demanded. Karina clapped her hands, her face lighting up, drawing further bewildered glances from the cafeteria crowd.

"See? She does have a personality!" Karina exclaimed to Chaewon. "She just saves it for her favorite sister," she added with a wink.

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